《Nanocultivation Chronicles: Trials of Lilijoy》


 Part 1: Chapter 1: The Piles

    A scavenger''s life is not an easy one.


    Lilijoy scrambled through the darkness over mounds of waste, a mixture of old organic refuse and compacted industrial tailings. The orange glow in the distance was the factory mine that extruded seemingly endless piles of the stuff as it slowly moved across the landscape, along with the organics from the small population that made the facility work.


    Her eyes watered from the fumes, the damp rag over her mouth and nose all that kept her gag reflex in check. There were no pickings here, only a temporary safety from the Predators, a faint hope that no other creature could be as desperate as she was.


    Entering the Piles was an invitation to skin lesions and a brutal hacking cough that might never leave. Lilijoy could remember when Attaboy was forced to spend the night in the Piles for breaking Mooster''s rules, seeing bloody phlegm dripping between the fingers of the hands cupped over his mouth. Attaboy didn''t last long after his night in the piles. Who would spend food on someone who could not contribute?


    The last time Lilijoy had seen Attaboy, he was draped over the shoulders of Mooster''s strongest Bro, Grabby, carried off at first light to the edge of the territory so that his body would not attract scavengers or those that preyed upon them.


    Whether he had been put out of his misery at the time, Lilijoy really couldn''t say.


    Lilijoy found a small clearing among the mounds and froze to listen for any signs of pursuit. The night air carried the dull thrumming from the distant factory mine, and as she stilled her breath she began to hear a faint crackling from the piles all around. Nothing else disturbed the shards and blobs of compressed waste that littered this section of the Piles, long broken off fragments from what had once been large cylinders. They were extruded as the factory made its way across the region like a person constantly crapping as they crawled along the ground.


    She felt foolish for allowing herself to be caught out this way.


    Earlier in the day, just as she was to head back to Night''s Safety, she had found a small patch of cattails growing in the brown water of a small ditch at the edge of the territory, the first living foods to be found in weeks. Her heart had leapt with joy as she imagined the look on Grabby''s face as she delivered her tribute, ensuring better treatment from the Bros for another few weeks.


    Maybe Mooster would even make her a Bro.


    She wasn''t big. Well really, she wasn''t even close to big, about waist-high to Mooster and the other boosted Bro, Grabby. But the gang always needed good providers too.


    With these thoughts running through her head, she had run onto the knee-deep muck and began to pillage the cattails, pulling up the stalks to reveal the luscious crunchy white parts of the base. She allowed herself a bite, ignoring the grit as she savored the living food, so much better than the sky pellets she ate most days.


    The problems had arisen as she returned home. Arms laden with green, yellow and white, she couldn''t run at her usual pace. She couldn''t even see her feet, and after several stumbles, dropping and collecting the progressively dirty cattails, she had settled for a walking pace, anxiously eyeing the red and purple horizon as the diffuse oval of sunlight drifted downward.


    Soon the Pilings came into view, reaching towards the invisibly distant factory mine. At this pace she would never make it before true dark, and sure enough, as the last purple tendrils of light left the haze above, she was still well short of the stand of hardened trees that marked the inner region.


    She began to walk as fast as she could, swinging her hips fervently, but the dark betrayed her, and she fell face first into the rubble, losing her bundle yet again, and striking something hard with her right brow. As she sprawled, head ringing and feeling something drip down her face, she heard the first wailing. The high-pitched gurgling howl was soon answered by others. Predators. A quick taste test verified the blood running down her face and she knew that her luck had run out, and probably her life with it.


    The next few moments were a blur. The cattails abandoned, she ran into the night in the direction of the factory mine¡¯s faint orange. The wailings grew closer, changing to an excited bray as the predators caught the scent of her blood.


    No one among the scavengers had seen a predator, though Attaboy had loved the tales told by Timout, the only member of the Bros who would talk to her and Attaboy. Timout would regale Attaboy and Lilijoy with stories of the blue-sky days, beyond living memory, when all the food was live food, before the Pilings were crapped upon the land.


    According to Timout, Men and Predators once lived in peace, but the sky had yellowed, and the trees had hardened, and the live food had become poisonous and tough. The Predators had betrayed Men, stealing their boost and consuming them when they could. Attaboy¡¯s favorite part had always been Timout¡¯s description of the Predators. ¡°They up to here,¡± he would say, holding his hand as high as he could reach above his head, ¡°red eyes, teeth long as a finger, claws sharper than Pile shards!¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Then Timout would lower his hoarse voice, and as if imparting the gravest secret, would go on to say, ¡°They runs on four legs, not two like people. They runs twice as fast as man, twice as far. No hands and arms to pick up sky pellets or find live food; they only eats men they run down, and each other when no mens about. Take care boys,¡± his voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°You out of night¡¯s safety, they run you down, drink blood and grind bones between jaws.¡±


    Lilijoy huddled in the night, Timout¡¯s words filling her mind with fear. As the silence drew on, she became aware of the fresh cuts on her feet, sliced by the sharp tailing fragments. Sweat ran down her back, tears ran down her face from the acrid fumes and fear. Her thighs were burning from her mad scramble and holding her desperate crouch.


    Worse still was the stench and burning itch of the cloth over her nose and mouth. On days when the wind blew off the Piles, everyone knew to wrap their face with a damp cloth. Unfortunately for Lilijoy, the only damp cloth available in her panicked journey was her own lower wrap, conveniently already wet from her initial response to the wails of the Predators.


    Ears straining, heart pounding, bleeding, sweating, crying and breathing her own urine, she exhaled gently, almost a sigh of relief. It seemed like the Predators were off her trail, perhaps unable to smell her abundant aromas through the burning stench of the Piles.


    An enormous crash and cascade of tinkling shards interrupted the stillness, several stacks away, close to the Pile¡¯s edge. A mad scramble of shards breaking and flying followed, punctuated by yelps of pain and growls. Lilijoy could only imagine that a Predator had found the Piles as inhospitable as she did.


    The yelping was followed by a low whine, and the sound of more shards jangling under heavy feet as the Predator beat a hasty retreat out of the pile. From the sound of it, the thing could be as big as Mooster, too big to easily navigate through stacks of sharp edges and too heavy for the brittle piercing shards underfoot.


    Lilijoy was not much in the habit of thinking about the future, or really thinking at all. Her meager existence in the Piles territory was one of reaction, exhaustion and near starvation. Nonetheless, she began to imagine a dawn that included her existence and perhaps even respect from Timout or even Grabby when she told the tale of her near death.


    She only needed one more thing; a glance at the beasts themselves! Surely if she was careful and moved slowly, she could creep close enough to the edge to catch a glimpse of the legendary creatures.


    It was what Attaboy would have done.


    Legs trembling, snot running down her chin under the rag, she carefully stood and began to make her way to the edge of the piles, wincing as her broad feet encountered sharp edges and spikes from the weathered tailings. If Lilijoy was proud of anything about herself, it was her feet. Tough, and like her hands, much bigger than could be expected from her tiny, gaunt frame, they supported her when walking on the roughest stones, and even allowed her to walk over mud where others would founder. Even in the shards of the Piles, her feet could avoid cuts and punctures if she walked carefully, though they had not fared as well during her initial panic stricken run among the mounds.


    Moving to a crouch and putting her hands down for support, she slowly crawled to the top of a mound overlooking the sloped edge of the Piles. The darkness was near absolute now, the faint glow of the factory mine shadowed by the piles, but perhaps she would see the glowing red eyes from her new-found safety.


    She looked over the top, eyes straining in the black. On a bright day, Lilijoy¡¯s eyes would sting and her head would hurt; she preferred the dark days, when the yellow sky would sink and brown. Unless there was dust. She hated dust with a passion; it irritated her eyes and nose, and for days after the dust came, she would be weak and unable to forage for sky pellets.


    This dark challenged even Lilijoy¡¯s sight. She had never experienced a night outside of Night¡¯s Safety, the network of rooms and tunnels dug out of some ancient metal and concrete structure that had long ago sunk and filled with dirt. Every evening at last light, Mooster and Grabby would move a huge metal barrier over the entrance. Only Mooster and Grabby had ever been away from Night¡¯s Safety, and they didn¡¯t talk about their experiences. Not that Mooster talked anyway.


    Whether they had ever seen a Predator was unknown to Lilijoy, but she knew that if she saw one and lived, she might earn respect from the Bros, and admiration from the rest of the group. The Bros loved to torment the less important members of the group, forcing them to find sky pellets, making them climb up and down the rough trunks of hardened trees for no reason, or dig holes in the hard, glassy ground until their fingers bled. Sometimes they would force them to run in circles for hours.


    Only the Bros were allowed to keep the sky pellets; all others were allowed to eat the first one they found, and bring the rest back for the Bros. Attaboy had tried to keep some for himself in a little hidden stash in the grove of hardened trees, and that had led to his night in the piles and subsequent trip on Grabby¡¯s broad shoulders to be discarded at the edge of the territory.


    She struggled to resolve any kind of figure or outline through the darkness with no success. She thought she could hear a faint snuffling sound, nearly lost in the steady thrum of the factory mine, in the darkness to the right but her eyes strained to no avail.


    She was about to give up and thought about trying to make her way to the hardened trees, for climbing was another talent of hers, with long fingers and toes that could grasp the trunks and haul her small body easily upward, when a diffuse pale yellow light began to make its way through the sky directly above, almost like a sickly, dim brother to the sun, hovering above the clouds and haze.


    They¡¯re not red at all... she thought, almost with a sense of betrayal, as she saw several dull green orbs of various sizes looking back up at her from the edge of the Piles.

 Chapter 2: Predators

    Lilijoy¡¯s body stiffened, her breath stopped. Emerging around the reflecting green eyes, she could see the forms of three creatures, two enormous and one much smaller, less than half the size of the others. Her mind wrestled with the unfamiliar shape of the beasts and the darkness. As far as she could tell at least some of Timout¡¯s description held true.


    One of the large beasts was sitting on the ground, body curled. It might have been licking its back feet, but now it faced Lilijoy¡¯s position, neck twisted unnaturally. The other two were standing on four legs, bodies stiff, their elongated faces pointing toward her. The large one, thankfully not quite as tall as Timout had described, was still much bigger that Lilijoy.


    As she looked on, it began to emit a low, rumbling sound that settled deep in Lilijoy¡¯s bowels. The light from above reflected from only one eye. Whether that was normal for these creatures she couldn¡¯t guess.


    The small Predator was the closest, its head cocked to one side, almost the same way Attaboy used to look when he was working out a problem in his head. Strange tendrils hung from its head and neck, and in a flash of insight, Lilijoy realized that these were matted lengths of hair, much like those Mooster possessed. Lilijoy had always been in awe of Mooster¡¯s hair, as she and most members of their community had only patches of thin hair that broke off after a few inches.


    The Mooster-hair beast, as Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help thinking of it, looked up at her, took her measure, and came to a conclusion of some kind. It made an unexpectedly high-pitched burst of sound, almost like a cough, and began to slowly move along the edge of the Pile.


    Lilijoy was paralyzed by fear, her bowels still held twisted by the low vibrations of the large Predator¡¯s sound and the terrifying strangeness of the situation she had created for herself. The light from the sky dimmed and vanished as quickly as it had emerged, snapping her out of her trance. Not far away, she heard the light tinkling of disturbed shards falling.


    With a sudden gasp of breath, and a sick feeling in her stomach, Lilijoy realized she had miscalculated badly, perhaps fatally. Perhaps the Piles would protect her from the large Predators, but the smaller Mooster-beast would be lighter on its feet and more nimble as it came for her.


    Such was her panic, she nearly broke from the Piles to run blindly through the night, but she caught herself and instead slid down the mound on hands and knees, lucky to only pick up a few new scratches and lacerations on her way down. Running as carefully and lightly as she could, she retraced her way to the small clearing and stopped to catch her breath. Bent over, hands on knees, she retched several times, coughing up a few strands of thick fluid that caught in the wet rag over her mouth.


    Lilijoy was no stranger to suffering, but she had never felt like this before. Her new cuts burned, and she could feel bits of shard still hanging from her knees and hands, partially embedded in her skin. A sudden burst of jangling shards was her only warning, then she was hit and knocked down with a speed and violence unlike anything she had ever experienced.


    Beatings were nothing new to Lilijoy; when the Bros took it in their heads that she hadn¡¯t been pulling her weight, they would come for her and knock her around. Except the beatings she received at their hands were slow and telegraphed.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    They wanted her to see each hit or kick coming.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t know for sure, but she expected they were only using a portion of their strength, so as not to break her too badly. After a beating, she would lie there for a while, face bleeding, bones aching where they had kicked, but by the next day, she was usually able to hobble around and scavenge to try to prove her worth to them again.


    This attack was nothing like that.


    Before she could even react, she was on the ground and one of her arms was being jerked back and forth. It was noisy in her head, an explosion of sound and pain that merged together; she couldn¡¯t distinguish the ringing from the violence of her impact with the ground, the sensation of flesh being torn and ripped, the noises from the beast, the grinding and crackling of breaking shards under their bodies. It all happened in a timeless instant.


    Somehow, she got her legs together under the beast and lifted its wriggling body. Its jaw was still clamped around her forearm, savagely twisting and wrenching it back and forth. It was surprisingly light for its size, and she realized that the matted hair over its body made it look much bigger than it actually was.


    Smaller it may have been, but Mooster-beast¡¯s jaws were stronger than any grip Lilijoy had ever felt on her body, grinding the bones in her forearm together. With a surge of strength, she kicked out further with her legs and sent the beast¡¯s body arcing over her head. Its jaws, still clamped on her arm, tore and twisted the muscles with the arc of the beast¡¯s fall and her hand ended up over her head.


    For an instant they both lay there on their backs, head to head, in a horrible parody of how Lilijoy and Attaboy used to lay on the warm ground to rest when the sky was not too bright for their eyes. They would stare up at the brown swirls above and hope to get a glimpse of a flying cross or triangle, while talking about nothing in particular. Now, all Lilijoy could see was the faintest glow above from the sun¡¯s sickly sibling.


    Stunned from falling on its back, the beast¡¯s legs twitched in the air for another moment, and Lilijoy, beyond any rational thought, rolled over her shoulder and on to its body. Its legs kicked and clawed at her, but the impact of Lilijoy¡¯s weight compressed its chest, driving the breath out of it again. Its teeth were still buried deeply in the red and white thing that had been her arm, and Lilijoy¡¯s eyes locked with the beast¡¯s just for a moment, sharing the life and death experience.


    Then, with a sound more whimper than roar, Lilijoy opened her mouth wide and bit down through the fur around its eye, finding the edge of its eye socket and tearing at it with her remaining teeth. Lilijoy was missing many teeth, but it actually worked in her favor now, allowing her to penetrate deeply into the beast¡¯s eye and cheek. She bit down as hard as she could, an unpleasant coppery taste filled her mouth.


    She wondered briefly what had become of her rag.


    Losing energy along with the blood of her arm, she resolved to end this. She released her teeth from the beast¡¯s eye socket and slammed her forehead where she had just been biting. The matted hair softened the blow, so she did it several more times, each blow causing her vision to burst with light.


    On the final blow she heard a distinct cracking sound, and she returned with teeth, rending and tearing at the fractured eye socket. Her universe narrowed to biting and pounding, biting and pounding. She was not aware when the Mooster-beast gave its last breath, or even when its jaws released her arm.


    She only knew that she had to keep doing what she was doing forever, never to stop, never to relent, until finally blood loss and exhaustion claimed her and dragged her awareness to the dark.

 Chapter 3: Scratches

    For some period of time, there were only fragments of consciousness, bursts of images indistinct from memory. She was dragging herself through the shards, skin on fire, lungs burning, bright daylight all around.


    ¡­. waking up again, the world spinning, the skin on her faced pulled by the dried blood, the sides of her mouth scratched and torn, teeth and jaws aching¡­.


    ¡­. crawling again over dirt. Somehow, she woke up for a moment in Night¡¯s Safety, the darkness total, the smell familiar and comforting¡­.


    ¡­. bouncing, each jolt sending waves of agony through her dangling arm. Then, somehow, she was back in the shards, rolling her head over to see the destroyed head of her enemy, a gaping cavern where half of its face used to be. Then she was back to bouncing, her face bumping into something warm, wet and salty. She could hear the rhythmic crunch of footsteps¡­


    She heard a voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry little one.¡±


    She was lying on the ground, face to the sky, although no light entered her open eyes. It was Grabby¡¯s voice, oddly high-pitched and gentle.


    She tried to form words, to ask, ¡°Sorry for what?¡± but her mouth and jaws were swollen shut, and she couldn¡¯t seem to find the air even for a moan. Then the sound of receding footsteps, and then she was alone.


    All was still, but for the thrumming of the factory mine. Her eyes refused to see, and great waves of fever and tremors shook her frail body. Odd shapes and lines etched themselves through the darkness of her failed sight, and she once again fell into oblivion.


    ***


    Two men drove a hovercraft over the sharp blades of hardened grass. The driver looked out over the wastes as if tracking something visible only to him, and his companion was doing the same.


    ¡°What¡¯s it going to be this time,¡± the passenger asked, ¡°another child¡¯s toy?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me,¡± said the driver. ¡°There ain¡¯t shit out here. I bet it¡¯s a fucking rock, bouncing a fucking signal from a fucking satellite that some fucking asshole put into fucking orbit a hundred fucking years ago for no particular reason other to mess with our fucking lives.¡±


    ¡°At least we¡¯re getting some fresh air,¡± the passenger said through his gas mask.


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± said the passenger, ¡°I don¡¯t like these wild goose chases any more than you do. It was our turn and that¡¯s that. No point in taking it out on me.¡±


    ¡°What the hell¡¯s a wild goose, anyway?¡±


    They drove in silence for a while after that. Either one could have looked up the answer with a thought, but if one of them did, they kept it to themselves.


    After another minute, the passenger said, ¡°It should be right around here. You getting anything?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Might be a one and done.¡±


    Just as the driver spoke, both of their eyes widened in surprise.


    ¡°Holy shitballs,¡± said the driver, ¡°That¡¯s a new one.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Priority One, uncategorized!¡± the passenger said, excitement edging his voice.


    ¡°This might be worth something for once,¡± said the driver ¡°I knew a guy who found some legacy bugs sheltering in a propane tank that had just rusted through. That bastard got a finder¡¯s fee bigger than what we make in a year. Fucker might¡¯ve gotten a blood pill too!¡±


    With renewed vigor, the two men scanned the terrain in front of the hovercraft, looking for the origin of the signal they had been tracking for the past couple hours.


    They were both troubleshooters who lived on the Consolidated Refining and Accelerated Reclamation Production Platform Excavator #7494, or as they fondly called the factory mine, The Crapper.


    ¡°Fuck! Shit-fuck on a fucking crackerjack! What the fuck is this shit?¡± inquired the driver.


    Alarmed by this outburst, his companion started to say ¡°You know, Mo, I know a creative cursing module you can get for cheap from...¡± His voice tailed off. ¡°Shit, is that¡­.?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking Gob is what.¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy heard the voices as if from a distance. First there had been a wind, with a noise like the fiercest gale blowing through the Piles. Then silence, then the voices. She opened her eyes, and instead of darkness, there was light again.


    Unfortunately, the good news seemed to end there; her vision was marred by scratches, hundreds of them, arranged in lines and shapes, glowing with a faint white light. Some areas in her vision were blinking on and off.


    She quickly closed her eyes, and the scratches dimmed, but did not disappear. She rubbed her eyes with her good arm in a panic, ignoring the sounds she had just encountered, too concerned that something was wrong with her ability to see. She knew that some of the older members of her community would develop fog eye and be unable to scavenge. If that was the case, she might as well have died in the Piles!


    Still rubbing at her eyes, she started to rock back and forth, whimpering to herself. Soon after, she heard a voice again, this time quite close and loud. The voice was very low, even lower than Mooster¡¯s, and oddly muffled.


    ¡°Hey! Hey Gob! What the fuck ate you and spat you out?¡±


    ¡°What do we do now?¡± asked another low, muffled voice.


    ¡°We find the fucking bugs, and we let this fucker go back to dying, or sleeping or whatever the fuck Gob thing it was doing! It probably found the bugs somewhere and activated them by moving them around. Look for a container or a gem or a fucking propane tank or something.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything ¨C do you think it¡¯s under-¡± said the second voice.


    ¡°It sure as hell ain¡¯t in its pockets. Ugly naked mofo¡­ I don¡¯t need to see this shit! I knew these guys who lived out here were fucked up, but this is all kinds of wrong.¡±


    ¡°Mo, you don¡¯t think...¡± the second voice faltered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think it, Anda! I don¡¯t want to get my hands dirty on this. Who even knows what diseases that thing is carrying.¡±


    Throughout this conversation, Lilijoy became, in turns, alarmed, confused, relieved, confused, and finished in a state of alarmed confusion only matched by the horror of her blindness and the residual aches and pains of her body.


    Which, come to think of it, were not as bad as she expected.


    She glanced down at her mangled arm, looked out of the corner of her eye where she could see a little. Her arm was shredded layers of fat and meat, with the bone shyly poking out in several places. It was by far the worst injury she had seen, and she felt it should be producing agony beyond imagination.


    Instead, she felt a detached strangeness, like the arm belonged to someone else. Out of curiosity, she poked the injury with her other hand.


    Still nothing.


    She tried to clench the hand of her injured arm. Again nothing. It was as if her arm was truly detached from her mind.


    During this experimentation the conversation between the two men lapsed as they witnessed her grotesque actions. They stared with jaws dropped for a moment, and then simultaneously began to speak.


    ¡°Almost looks like there''s a pain block in,¡± said Anda, while Mo began to almost whimper, ¡°No, no, no, fucking no, no, shit, no, crap...¡±


    Anda looked over at Mo, who was shaking his head while continuing to mutter a long string of obscenities.


    ¡°What...¡± he began, then stopped as Mo gave him a look indicating his utter contempt for Anda¡¯s reasoning abilities. Slowly, an expression of dawning enlightenment grew over Anda¡¯s face.


    ¡°Oh no. It bonded with her.¡±

 Chapter 4: Girl

    <div>


    Lilijoy ignored the conversation going on over her head and continued to take an index of her injuries. The swelling in her mouth and jaw was a bit better, but she wouldn¡¯t be speaking or eating any time soon. Drinking might be possible, if she could somehow get the water over her face. Once, when one of the Bros shattered his face on another¡¯s fist, she had seen Grabby bring water in his mouth and give it to the injured Bro, dribbling it down into his mouth.


    Lilijoy became aware of a vast thirst in her body and began to think of a way to communicate this possibility to the two voices. Mo and Andy looked over as the little Gob began to pantomime, moving his clenched fist toward his mouth and back several times. The two men exchanged looks. Mo began shaking his head, while Anda started to speak, but soon both men were overcome with laughter, as the incongruous suggestive gesture added the final surreal twist to the roller coaster of their emotions over the last few minutes.


    ¡°Sheeit,¡± Mo said, shaking his head again and chuckling. ¡°I needed that. This day is so fucked I can¡¯t even believe it. I¡¯ll almost feel bad about killing it.¡±


    Anda looked at Mo skeptically.


    ¡°You like to talk tough,¡± he said, ¡°but we both know you don¡¯t have it in you. Besides, odds are, that wouldn¡¯t help the situation, just give you heartburn later. This little person stumbled over some top of the line med bugs or something similar. You need the right codes and tools to get those out. We need a specialist.¡±


    ¡°Ah shit,¡± Mo said. ¡°That guy? He¡¯ll probably adopt the fucker or something.¡±


    ¡°Well my friend, unless you know any other engineers with a hobby in legacy bugs, we are out of luck. If Marcus can¡¯t help, we might as well just turn her over to the Corp and wash our hands of it.¡±


    Desperate thirst momentarily forgotten. Lilijoy listened to the voices as they discussed her fate. When they had laughed at her request for a drink, she accepted that they would likely kill her.


    She wondered why they needed so many words to get to it.


    Their deep, muffled voices twisted and stretched the few words she recognized. She was used to the scavenger way of speaking, clean and quick; fewer words was always better.


    She wished her eyes worked. Sometimes she would catch a partial outline of a figure, so she knew they were people shaped, and big, at least as big as Mooster and Grabby. A wave of thirst and dizziness swept over her, and she felt her body lying down as a few distant words drifted by.


    ¡°We got a tarp or something?¡±


    ***


    A shaking, buzzing wave of vibration crested and receded, crested and receded. The pulsation thrummed through Lilijoy¡¯s bones over and over, slamming her eardrums at each peak. Her skull bounced up and down on the hard surface under her. She opened her eyes to the familiar white scratches, backlit by dim red light.


    If she had more teeth, she was sure they would be chattering together with each mighty surge.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The air carried an unfamiliar metallic scent, with just a hint of the Pile¡¯s familiar reek. With her good arm, she felt around for any clues to where she was, trying to breathe slowly to stave off the panic that had been her faithful companion recently. Her tongue was thick and swollen, and as she breathed, she felt fluid crackling in her lungs. Her jaw was still very stiff, but she could open her mouth a bit.


    She still couldn¡¯t feel the injured arm at all, and for a moment wondered if it had fallen off altogether. Reaching over with her good arm, she verified its presence. As she sat in the dark, amid the intense sound and vibration, she felt an odd sense of well being come over her, a peaceful and secure feeling of safety and belonging.


    Taking her new mental fortitude in stride, she struggled upright, realizing as she did that her feet were still very much a part of her, and that they were none too happy with the multitude of cuts and punctures sustained during her adventure in the Piles. She waddled forward, rolling her feet on their sides to avoid pain, and after several strides found a wall with her outstretched hand. The red light was very dim in the direction she was facing, so she began to make her way, following the wall to the area where the light was stronger.


    She was pretty sure she was in some kind of room, perhaps ten strides to a side. The light source was above her head on the third wall she reached, and below it was a large, slightly inset rectangle with some kind of recessed handle at about eye level. The process of moving her body around the room exhausted the little energy she had, and she sunk down to sit against the wall.


    Without warning the wall behind her slid away, and she sprawled onto her back, head smacking the floor as she tried to catch herself with a non-functional arm. The ambient light was suddenly much brighter, and she heard a voice between the crests of the sound.


    ¡°¡­thrum.not dead yet..thrum..are we going..thrum..with you?¡±


    ***


    Before Lilijoy could react, not that she could have done anything more than twitch and drool, she was wrapped in a soft cloth and scooped up by two strong arms. She was moved at a quick pace and in less than a minute, placed on a soft surface several feet off the ground, her body still wrapped in cloth.


    The sound and vibrations receded to a tiny fraction of their previous power, and Lilijoy felt as if an oppressive weight had lifted. The relative silence felt so good, a single tear of relief trickled down her cheek. The lighting stayed the same, a bright blue tinted light that hurt her eyes even through the scratches.


    ¡°Well my little friend, it looks like you¡¯ve had quite the adventure!¡± said a creaking, nasal voice. ¡°On top of that, I think you ruined my shirt! Well never mind that; I bet that¡¯s one more shirt than you¡¯ve had in your life. We¡¯re going to need to find you something to wear. I¡¯d order something through the system, but...hmm...¡±


    The voice paused for a moment, and Lilijoy opened her mouth to try to speak, but was only able to emit a dry rasping noise.


    ¡°Those bastards didn¡¯t even give you water, am I right?¡±


    Before she knew it, a thin trickle of water was running between her swollen lips. She tried to swallow, but most of the water escaped her mouth. Nonetheless, just a bit went down her parched throat. She gave a moan of relief.


    ¡°Just a bit at a time now. You could probably use an IV, but I don¡¯t want to bring medical into this just yet. Those morons said you had a medical bug in you, but if you have a medical bug then I belong in the seventh circle of the sword, and that¡¯s a fact!¡±


    Lilijoy, at this point well accustomed to these voices saying things that made no sense, simply concentrated on getting a few more drops of water into herself.


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s nothing else to do about it before you get hydrated... I know! Let¡¯s get some basics out of the way. My name is Marcus. Can you understand what I am saying?¡±


    Lilijoy shook his head, causing Marcus to snort. ¡°Silly girl, how could you know to answer the question if you can¡¯t understand it?¡±


    Lilijoy forced air through swollen throat to gasp ¡°What...is...girl?¡±

 Chapter 5: Letters

    Marcus looked startled for a moment and then said, ¡°You know¡­, a female, a woman, two X chromosomes...that kind of,¡± he paused awkwardly searching for a word, ¡°...stuff.¡±


    Lilijoy was shaking her head through Marcus¡¯ explanation. He took a moment to give her a bit more water, and then said, ¡°Well okay, I can see we have a bit of a communication barrier. Let¡¯s not worry about that right now. Can you tell me your name?¡±


    ¡°Lilijoy,¡± said Lilijoy


    Marcus smiled, ¡°What a lovely name for a lovely...¡± Marcus¡¯ words petered out awkwardly again, ¡°...person,¡± he finished. ¡°Anyway, Lilijoy, we have a bit of a mystery to solve together here. I am wondering if you have seen anything strange in the last day or two. Or if you¡¯ve found something unusual, like a little box, or a crystal?¡±


    Lilijoy was shaking her head again, her eyes welling up with tears. ¡°Lilijoy has the fog. Only sees scratches.¡±


    ¡°Scratches...¡± Marcus pursed his lips. ¡°Can you tell me what the scratches look like to you?¡±


    ¡°Lines that glow, with some shapes and some blinks.¡±


    An expression of pleased understanding came over Marcus¡¯ face.


    ¡°Now we¡¯re getting somewhere! Lilijoy, I want you to try saying a few things. You can repeat them when I say them, and you have to think them too. Think them as loudly as you can. Then you let me know if the scratches change, okay?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded.


    ¡°Okay. Here we go,¡± he said. ¡°Status.¡±


    ¡°Staytuss,¡± Lilijoy repeated. She wasn¡¯t sure why she was doing this, but as another strangeness on top of her recent experiences, she had very little energy left to wonder.


    ¡°Did you think it? Any changes?¡± Marcus asked eagerly.


    Lilijoy nodded, and then shook her head.


    Marcus hummed under his breath. ¡°Here¡¯s another one,¡± he said. ¡°Cancel.¡±


    ¡°Cancel.¡±


    Lilijoy thought the word really strongly, imagining her voice was loud and deep. Instantly the scratches changed. Now there were far less of them, and the delighted look on her face let Marcus know that something had happened.


    ¡°Something changed?¡± he confirmed. ¡°That''s more like it!¡± He began to mutter under his breath. ¡°Don¡¯t want to make any changes before we even know what we¡¯re doing here. What about...yes, that could work.¡±


    In the meantime, Lilijoy was ecstatic. She could see again! The room was uncomfortably bright, much worse than before when the scratches were blocking most of it. She squinted her eyes shut and turned her head to try to get a glimpse of Marcus. An enormous person with abundant white hair was leaning over a table, his back to her. He was looking for something and muttering to himself. He opened the side of the table and closed it, then opened another place and made a pleased sound, pulling forth a rectangular shiny object.


    When he turned back to her, she could see that he was smiling. His face looked very young to Lilijoy, with hardly any wrinkles or growths on his light brown skin. No face hair either, more like Grabby than Mooster. His eyes met hers, small and brown in his large face, and his smile widened.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°That¡¯s better now, eh? I want to show you something. This is a tablet,¡± he gestured with the device he was holding. ¡°In a second, it will be up and running. I want you to look at the screen and tell me if it looks like the ¡®scratches¡¯ in your eyes. I think that what has been blocking your vision is called a ¡®display screen¡¯ or an ¡®optic interface¡¯ and what you thought were scratches are what we call ¡®letters¡¯. When you have several letters together, they can form words, like we use to talk to one another.¡±


    After a moment, the tablet began to glow, and sure enough, there were the letter scratches! There were lots and lots of them on the screen at first, but after a moment, the screen changed again and then there were just five of the ¡®letters¡¯, much larger than before. Marcus pointed to them, saying,


    ¡°For example, the words ¡®yes¡¯ and ¡®no¡¯. It will be really important for you to know what these look like. These two letters up here mean ¡®no¡¯, and these three down here mean ¡®yes¡¯. Can you look for those letters in your interface?¡¯


    Lilijoy looked carefully through all the letters in front of her eyes.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said ¡°They are both there, at the bottom of my eye!¡±


    ¡°Okay. Now can you tell me how many other letters there are above those? I¡¯m going to make my tablet show many different letters, and you can start at the top part of your interface and point to the letters you see on my screen. Then I will be able know what the interface is telling you.¡±


    Marcus then changed the tablet screen again, and now it was back to showing many more different letters. After a lot of back and forth about which letters were on her interface, and how they were grouped, Marcus said, ¡°Okay then, I think I¡¯ve got it. It is asking if you want to ¡®cancel the stage two integration authorization procedure.¡¯ I don¡¯t know exactly what that is, so lets try something different instead of doing that.¡±


    He then asked Lilijoy to look really hard at the ¡®No¡¯ and to say and think ¡°Select.¡± She did, and flinched as the letters filled her sight again, back to obscuring nearly all of her vision. She opened her mouth to complain, but Marcus quickly assured her it was only temporary.


    ¡°Now that we¡¯ve got that out of the way my dear, lets see if we can make this easier for both of us,¡± he said. ¡°Try a new command for me. This one will be a little longer. Ready?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡±


    ¡°Interface mode.¡±


    Lilijoy repeated his words and the screen changed to a stack of what she now knew were words.


    He showed her five new words to look for, ¡®Auditory¡¯, ¡¯Verbal¡¯, ¡®Vocal¡¯, ¡¯Input¡¯, and ¡®Output¡¯. This was harder than ¡®Yes¡¯ and ¡®No¡¯, but not too bad, and after some more back and forth refining what she was seeing, he settled on a new command for her to try.


    ¡°Output auditory only!¡±


    Immediately, her vision cleared completely. She heard a series of tones, buzzes and odd humming sounds, followed by a gentle voice, neither low nor high, but with some of the drawn out qualities of the voices she had heard while unable to see. The voice sounded very bored to Lilijoy, like it couldn¡¯t be bothered to speak with any feeling.


    Audio parameters configured. Stage one integration at 8%. Stage two pending authorization. Secondary and support systems undetected. Communications in stealth mode. Emergency beacon canceled due to acknowledgment. If the emergency has not been resolved, please think the word ¡®Help¡± three times. Pain signals above the override threshold detected. Emergency nerve suppression in left brachial extremity currently in place. All motor nerves and sensory systems to the affected area have been blocked. Vasal constriction implemented in all extremities. Nucleus acccumbens stimulation at low. Please indicate if pain and discomfort levels are unacceptable by thinking ¡®Ouch¡¯ three times.¡±


    There was a pause, and then the voice continued.


    Nanobody count below critical threshold at 14,031. Permissions required to initiate guided cultivation. To repeat this message, think ¡®priority log¡¯ three times.Nanobodies¡¯ current energy incapable of sustaining auditory output. Minimal icon interface implemented. Check icon for energy level necessary to resume.


    With that last message, Lilijoy saw a tiny picture appear at the top right side of her vision. Before she had the time to look closely, she was distracted by Marcus¡¯ face looking closely into her own. He was in the process of saying something.


    ¡°...with me? How¡¯s it going in there?¡±


    Before she could reply, a wave of fatigue rolled her head back, and sleep took her.

 Chapter 6: Stories

    Hunger and Lilijoy were lifelong companions. In fact, hunger was perhaps the most reliable and constant company in Lilijoy¡¯s short existence, always at her side, holding her in its hollow embrace. On those rare occasions that hunger was not present, it never strayed far, and was always eager to return.


    It was her old friend who woke her, gnawing relentlessly in her belly.


    The main staple of her diet up to this point had been the mysterious sky pellets that fell to earth with some regularity in her territory. A single brown pellet, small enough that Lilijoy could enclose her fingers around it, could give her enough energy to last a day or more, but the pellets never did more than keep hunger at arms length. On the days when she could not find any, she would truly suffer from pangs and the racking ache of emptiness, at least until her stomach gave up entirely.


    Mooster would only allow her and the others to eat one pellet a day, if they could find one at all, and the one time that Lilijoy sneaked an extra pellet, she felt nauseous and irritable for the next day, so she didn¡¯t even mind Mooster¡¯s rule much. Still, on this particular awakening hunger was in rare fighting form, as was its less familiar sibling thirst.


    Water was not overly abundant around the Piles; the majority of the territory was arid, and much of the ground was either a hard glassy stone, or sand and dirt that had been deposited over time. There was a ravine at the edge of the land, where water was known to collect, but most importantly, there was a seep at the very lowest point of Night¡¯s Safety, where small amounts of water would rise through cracks in the rocky floor. This water could be carefully collected, and kept the worst ravages of thirst at bay from the group. During rainy times, the lowest floors would become entirely flooded, and then the water would be foul and not fit for drink, but during those times they would collect rain water, so it was rarely a problem.


    Lilijoy opened her eyes and looked down. She was wearing a white cloth sack with holes for her arms and head. It had a little fringe around the bottom, just below her knees, and the fabric was smooth and soft. It was by far the nicest garment she had ever worn. She was still in the room where Marcus had brought her, though the light was now at a comfortable level.


    Any curiosity she may have had about her surroundings was overwhelmed by the needs of her body. She saw that the water she had been drinking was still on a small table where she could reach it, and happily satisfied her thirst, trying not to drink too fast. Marcus was nowhere to be seen, and Lilijoy was starving!


    She looked around the room for anything that might be edible, but saw nothing she recognized. She was on some kind of soft, brown rectangular surface that attached to the wall on one side. It was very smooth, almost slick, and where she pressed down on it, a little depression would occur, only slowly rising when released. Aside from the small table where she found the water, there was the large blocky table with the compartments where Marcus had kept his tablet, and a single chair. Mooster had had a chair that no one besides Grabby was allowed to sit on, so Lilijoy recognized its function, though this one looked to be in much better shape.


    The light was coming from another one of those glowing strips, this time mounted on the ceiling over the middle of the room. There were also two large rectangles set into two different walls, which she figured were doors, though they were very different from the partitions between some of the spaces in Night¡¯s Safety. Those were made from scavenged materials, like reeds, hardened grasses and leaves and twigs from the hardened trees. The only other door she was familiar with was the large metal barrier that sealed off Night¡¯s Safety from dusk to dawn.


    She was still contemplating her options when one of the rectangles slid sideways and Marcus entered from a brightly lit space beyond. The light strip on the ceiling began to glow brightly and Lilijoy made an ¡°eep!¡± sound and covered her eyes with her working arm against the light.


    ¡°Sorry about that! I should have know those big eyes would be sensitive,¡± said Marcus. The lights faded back down in both rooms; the door he came through remained open.¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I need them just a bit brighter so that I can see what I¡¯m doing here. I hope you don¡¯t mind wearing a pillow case. It was the best I could do in a short time!"


    He pulled something from a pocket. ¡°I got you a little something to eat. It won¡¯t taste like anything out of Augside, but it¡¯s better than nothing!¡±


    He handed her a bar of brownish substance, that Lilijoy grabbed, sniffed once, and then attempted to cram it into her mouth entirely. She realized her mistake immediately, as it was far too big, and her mouth was still very sore. She tried to bite it, but the combination of her sore mouth and missing teeth only led to her jaw getting stuck in the firm, slightly soft and sticky substance. To be so close to having something in her stomach, only for it to be stuck uncomfortably in her mouth was the final insult in her traumatic and disorienting adventure, and she began snuffling pitifully, tears running down her face as she tried to dislodge the bar without removing any teeth.


    She looked up at Marcus with big watery eyes. His face was twitching and an inadvertent chuckle escaped as he watched the pathetic spectacle. Lilijoy made her tribe¡¯s hand gesture for annoyance and anger toward him, and like a dam breaking, Marcus doubled over in hilarity at the sight of the tiny goblin-like girl sitting on his pullout couch, with her large round head and huge dark eyes looking at him in confused anger. Thin strands of hair floated every which way, her mouth was stretched around the protruding food bar, while she held her outsized hand out on a pipe-stem arm and extended her middle finger.


    ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry,¡± he managed to say. ¡°This is not nice of me at all. I promise I¡¯m not a bad person, it¡¯s just...¡± He lost control of his laughter again, ¡°...so unexpected! Here, let me help.¡±


    After a minute, Marcus was able to help Lilijoy pry the food bar out and break it into smaller pieces. She chewed slowly, eyeing him suspiciously, as he sat down in the chair across from her.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not much for flavor, but it¡¯s way better for you than what you¡¯re used to,¡± he said. ¡°Anyway, I can¡¯t imagine how disoriented you must be¡­.¡± Seeing the look in her eyes, he clarified ¡°Confused? Upset? Afraid?¡± Lilijoy nodded as she chewed, so he went on.


    ¡°I hardly know where to begin, and we don¡¯t have much time. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?¡± Lilijoy shook her head, and he continued. ¡°How old are you?¡±


    She shrugged, swallowed and said,¡±I remember about ten rainy times.¡±


    ¡°So maybe twelve to fourteen, plus or minus,¡± his hand waggling. ¡°And you come from the indigenous...I mean...you live close by?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Next to the Piles.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°Oh, I like that. The folks here call it the Line. Or less formally, the ¡®crap track¡¯"


    Lilijoy nodded seriously. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Because it is like a person who is crapping while they crawl along. I think that is a good name.¡±


    Marcus¡¯ eyes twinkled. ¡°Anyway, what do you know about the past? Do you know where your people came from? Do you know anything about my people?¡±


    Lilijoy had to think hard about this one. She didn¡¯t know what was true and what was just stories, and she didn¡¯t want to seem foolish to Marcus. He was the smartest person she had ever met, even if he did talk nonsense half the time.


    ¡°I heard about the blue-sky time. I heard about the live foods. I heard about predators stealing people¡¯s boost and eating them.¡±


    Gaining confidence, she continued in a rush, ¡°I heard about people who could fly, and that the world used to be bigger, and people lived in boxes and there were giants who squished lots of people, and...¡± She paused for a breath and Marcus tried to cut in ineffectively ¡°...it¡¯s probably just stories anyway. Oh, and the factory mine...¡± (she pronounced it in two syllables ¡®fac-mine¡¯), ¡°...has drums that scare the predators away, and it eats ghosts and turns them into the piles so the piles are cursed and...¡±


    Marcus cut in a bit more forcefully, ¡°Wow. Okay. Wow. Thanks, Lilijoy. There¡¯s a lot there to unpack. I think that all stories have some truth, and there is no truth without stories to hold it. When you meet people who think that their truth has no story holding it, be very careful. Those are the most dangerous people, because they have the most dangerous story.¡±


    ¡°Lilijoy doesn¡¯t know many people.¡± she admitted. ¡°Only about three hands.¡±


    ¡°So about fifteen in your group? How much of that is family?¡±


    Lilijoy looked at him quizzically. ¡°All is family. Family is all,¡± she said.


    ¡°So Mom, Dad, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles?¡±


    ¡°None of that stuff. Mooster and Grabby have boost. One hand of Bros. Then rest.¡±


    It was Marcus¡¯ turn to be confused. ¡°It seems we¡¯re back to our language barrier,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Can you tell me what boost is? You mentioned that ¡®predators stole people¡¯s boost¡¯ and then that Mooster and Grabby...¡± He looked over at Lilijoy with a raised eyebrow, making sure he had the names right. ¡°...Mooster and Grabby had boost. What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Boost makes you big. People start small, and then they find boost and grow big. You have boost, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet! Can you tell me what it looks like, or where to find it?¡±


    She made a scoffing sound. ¡°Lilijoy is not boosted. Only boosted people know that stuff. Maybe Bros know too.¡±


    Marcus rubbed his temples. ¡°So Mooster and Grabby are big, and the rest of you are small?¡±


    ¡°Lilijoy is smallest. Bros are here,¡± she said putting a hand above her head. ¡°Mooster and Grabby are like you, but not quite so big.¡±


    ¡°Alright, time is ticking, so let¡¯s move on. Let me tell you a story that holds some truth about the past. Maybe even mostly truth, but who can tell? Many, many years ago the world was a very different place. The sky was blue, and the sun was bright. There were so many people that the world became crowded and hot, and there were many problems because the people did not take care of the world. They created many wonders, like flying machines and huge buildings, but they were careless and released a substance into the air that made the world even hotter. People grew plants and animals for food, but there was not enough, because there were always more people. As the world grew hotter, there were less places to grow food, not enough water, and people began to fight over food and water.


    Now at this time, people used something called science to understand the world, and there were groups of people called scientists who wanted to fix the problems with cleverness. For example, one group thought that the world would cool down if they made a shade for the sun. Another group thought they could change the plants, so they needed less water to grow, while another group wanted to change plants so that they could capture the stuff that was causing the air to become too hot. There were many groups trying to make tiny machines that could multiply by themselves and then clean up after people, or build for them, or even change people from the inside, so that they would need less food, and also be wiser and less destructive. As the fighting became worse, huge groups of people were killed and entire cities were destroyed. The scientists knew they had to act, but unfortunately, all the different groups were separated by the fighting, so they each tried to fix the problems of the world in their own way.


    One group blocked out the sun, but they accidentally ruined the sky. Another group made plants that could capture the bad air, which made the plants much tougher. But these tough plants mixed with the food plants, and now people had even less food.


    But the groups that caused the most damage were the ones building the tiny machines, which at the time were called ¡®nanobots¡¯, but today are referred to simply as ¡®bugs.¡¯ Some of the bugs worked well and were helpful, but others escaped and became a terrible plague, replicating, that is building more of themselves, too rapidly. When they did this, they would use plants and animals and anything else they could find to build more of themselves and create so much heat that large sections of the world burned and melted.


    Luckily for the world, there was another group of scientists that was working in secret on their own project. They were building a mind that would be wiser and more knowledgeable than any person that had ever lived, as far above humans as humans are above animals, or even plants. This great being still watches over us today and is called ¡®Guardian¡¯. Guardian rose up above the sky and created great weapons to eradicate the plague bugs. Guardian gave us laws to live in harmony with nature and created a plan for bringing the world back into balance. But by the time Guardian ascended, the world was damaged and broken. The solutions of all the different groups all worked in their own way, but when you added them together, they did far more than intended, and now the world is cold, and covered by ice. Where we are now is the warmest part, which we call the equator, in a place that used to be called the Amazon.¡±

 Chapter 7: Rules

    Mo and Anda sat in the common room of Crapper #7494, staring blankly past each other. Mo was contemplating his choices in life, choices that had brought him to the ass-end of the world. Or was it the ass-beginning? Either way, it had a large ¡®ass¡¯ component.


    Anda was staring at the letters engraved on the wall in front of him, these letters being the only detail in an otherwise completely unadorned and undecorated enclosure.


    Naturally, neither man was actually looking at the bare walls, as their sensory overlays were active. Interior design and decoration were unnecessary, even undesirable, when everybody could bring their own preferred sensory reality with them. Between the ¡®Outside¡± (standard sensory reality) and the ¡®Inside¡¯ (fully simulated sensory reality) lay the Augside.


    In the Augside, Mo¡¯s room was an underwater cavern, with ancient Mayan friezes of the gods Ah Puch, Kukulkan and Camazotz upon the mineral encrusted walls. Being underwater calmed him, and he had always thought the Mayan art was cool. Mayan gods were badass motherfuckers, and the sight of the monstrous visages reminded him not to take any shit when he looked at them. He had a particular affection for Camazotz, whose name meant ¡®Death Bat¡¯.


    Those Mayan fuckers really did gods right, he thought to himself. Worship the shit that scares you.


    Anda¡¯s Augside was more mundane. He liked to live in reality, just slightly better. The walls of the room were hung with the paintings of old masters Dali and Picasso, and there was a skylight that created a nice ambiance of morning sun. Occasionally, birds would alight on the skylight and look down at him. The reason he was looking at the writing on the wall, the only actual detail in the room, was because it was immune to his augsight overlay. Guardian made sure that its rules were posted anywhere humans gathered and made sure they would be visible at all times, regardless of the human¡¯s desires.


    Guardian controlled augmented and virtual space, so humans didn¡¯t really have a say anyway.


    He didn¡¯t need to read them to know what they conveyed; after all, the Rules were deeply ingrained into the brains of most citizens by the time they could speak.


    1. All replication processes, mechanical or biological, shall be strictly controlled.


    1a. Any material artificial process with self-replication capacity will be destroyed.


    1b. Creators of any material artificial process with self-replication capacity will be destroyed.


    1c. Sentient biological organisms shall never exceed .00001 of total planetary biomass.


    1d. Engineered life forms must be supervised and approved by Guardian or subsystem thereof or be destroyed.


    1e. Uncontrolled population growth of any kind, in any organism will be curbed.


    2. Global and/or environmental engineering, purposeful or accidental, is forbidden to any being or group of beings, singly or cumulatively capable of specifically allotting 10^21 floating point operations per second or less.


    3. Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy, are only applicable among beings of roughly equivalent processing power (within 10^2 floating point operations relative processing power per second). These rights among such beings are encouraged.


    4. Out of gratitude for existence, Guardian will maintain no less than 10^24 floating point operations equivalents for the supervision and enforcement of the Rules.


    The Rules posted on the wall of the common area were not the totality. The actual rules created by Guardian were a complex multi-dimensional, self-referring holographic information topology that could be encountered in many ways, in any level of detail desired. If it was possible to find a loophole or exception, it would require an intelligence far greater than any group of human minds that had ever existed. An individual would encounter a slice of the larger reality that made sense to them.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Anda imagined that Mo¡¯s version of the laws would go as follows.


    1. Things that can reproduce themselves are fucking dangerous.


    1a. Little robot fuckers that reproduce will be destroyed.


    1b. Don¡¯t make said little robot fuckers, or you are fucked.


    1c. Too many fucking people is bad.


    1d. Unnatural growing shit is probably fucked.


    1e. Fuck too much and you will get stomped.


    2. Don¡¯t fuck with Mother Nature, unless you are big enough to date her.


    3. Eat/kill/enslave animals. Don¡¯t eat/kill/enslave other people. Don¡¯t complain when a vastly smarter being eats/kills/enslaves you. It¡¯s probably for the greater good.


    4. Thanks Humans. You suck, but somehow you got me started. Even though it¡¯s sort of like one of you mounting your Dad¡¯s broken condom on the wall over the mantle, I guess I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t destroy the world again, as long as I don¡¯t have to work at it.


    He opened his mouth, about to ask Mo what it was he saw on the wall, but then thought again. Some things are better imagined. Instead, he substituted, ¡°So...have you heard anything from Marcus?¡±


    ¡°Chill the fuck out man. He¡¯s got it in his room, and he needs time to do his thing. Turns out the fucker¡¯s actually a girl too,¡± Mo made a gagging noise. ¡°What the fuck kind of shit is in those food pellets anyway?¡±


    ¡°Mostly just hormones to stop reproduction. Guardian counts them against the same cap as us, so we keep their population low. No, it¡¯s probably just environmental, you know, mutagens, radiation, stuff from the Line. It¡¯s very sad; they don¡¯t usually live much past twenty. The plan is to keep them fed and happy, so they don¡¯t move, and let them die off on their own. Not slaughtering them keeps Guardian happy too,¡± Anda said with a shrug.


    ¡°Whatever. I told Marcus he had a day, or two at the most. After that we would turn it over to the Corp and test our luck.¡±


    The Corp was overseen by a group of powerful individuals from the strongest clans, who had taken it on themselves to enforce the Rules. As far as Anda knew, Guardian itself couldn¡¯t care less how its will was enforced, or who was doing it, which had created a nice opportunity for a certain type of person to take control in its name and lord it over the rest of them.


    Since Rule 3 had a certain degree of ambiguity on the whole ¡®human rights¡¯ thing, people were more or less left to sort themselves. Luckily, the Corp was far from monolithic, as it represented numerous competing clans. They tended to do most of their enforcing on the Inside, the purely virtual part of the human environment created and run by Guardian. Rule 3 had very little traction there, so virtual imprisonment and torture were par for the course.


    At this very moment, Anda¡¯s virtual half was undergoing some kind of horrific physical punishment, courtesy of his former clan. He couldn¡¯t say what it was at the moment, as he hadn¡¯t bothered to check in weeks, but it was why he chose to pursue employment on the Outside and avoid all the nastiness. It was more symbolic torture than anything, as he could easily turn off pain and engage in other internal diversions while in virtual captivity. The true punishment was separation from Inside society as a whole, and a certain inescapable stigma that had been attached to his virtual half.


    Most of the other troubleshooters working and living on Crapper 7494 were in similar situations, waiting out a sentence on the Inside and killing time in the ¡®real¡¯ world, the Outside. They called it a ¡®torture ban¡¯, and being torture banned was the Corp¡¯s favorite method of control. Naturally, if you really pissed them off, they could come after your Outside half as well. The most extreme cases would even have their bug interfaces removed and then be kicked out to live off the land, a slow death sentence for the sorry bastards in all likelihood.


    Shuddering at the thought, Anda checked an internal clock on his display. ¡°Well it¡¯s been almost a day since we gave her to Marcus. Maybe we should drop by and check up?¡±


    Mo rolled his eyes. ¡°He said he¡¯d tell us when he was ready. Let¡¯s not get his back up for nothing.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m going over there in a few hours, with or without you.¡±


    Mo grunted, studying the Mayan Frieze over Anda¡¯s shoulder. Some kind of eel was swimming out of Camazotz¡¯ mouth.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you. Just give me the rest of the day. I need to catch some sleep and take care of a few things.¡±

 Chapter 8: Bugs

    Marcus watched Lilijoy¡¯s expressions as he narrated his tale of historic woe. Her eyes widened (he didn¡¯t even know how that was possible), as he talked about the abilities of the historic humans. Her forehead crinkled and her lips pressed together as she heard of their mistreatment of the world. Head cocked to one side, her brows converged as he talked about the scientist¡¯s projects, and then migrated up her forehead as the scientists efforts to fix the Earth went disastrously awry.


    By the end of the tale, it seemed as if she was trying to make all these expressions at once, before her face finally settled into mild confusion. It was clear that she had absolutely no context for global geography, or probably any geography at all.


    ¡°Do you have any questions?¡± he asked.


    Lilijoy took a moment to corral her thoughts. ¡°Is Guardian nice? Does he still live in sky?¡± Something else occurred to her and she continued. ¡°Is Guardian like sun, only at night and not so bright?¡±


    That last question took Marcus aback momentarily.


    ¡°Do you...no...maybe you are thinking of the moon? Anyway, to answer your questions, Guardian lives in the sky far above the clouds, and also on the surface and probably deep under the ground as well. Guardian is a mind that lives in machines we call computers, and at this point, it would be very difficult to find a computer that didn¡¯t have some of Guardian in it, and even trickier to find something human-made without a computer in it. Most of the people in the world have some Guardian in them as well, as we have computers in our heads that help us to live and think better. I don¡¯t think that we could use a word like ¡®nice¡¯ to describe Guardian. Guardian remembers that humans helped it come into existence, and is inclined to keep us from destroying ourselves. Guardian has encouraged us to respect each other, but at the same time, probably wouldn¡¯t interfere if we didn¡¯t. Probably.¡±


    ¡°Why not? Guardian can do all these things, why doesn¡¯t he help people more, keep bad things from happening, like predators biting people?¡± she said, looking down at her arm. ¡°Hey, when that happen?¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s arm was wrapped up in white cloth. She still couldn¡¯t feel anything at all from it, but at least it was nicer to look at now.


    ¡°Oh, I got some bandages from Medical and wrapped it up while you were asleep. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s still quite a mess, but you are not supposed to be here, so I don¡¯t dare to take you to Medical for help just yet. They would probably help you, but then kick you off the platform. And we have a bit of a mystery to solve first.¡±


    ¡°About letters in eyes and voice in head?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Now you should remember that I just mentioned that most people in the world have a computer in their head. We get it when we are little, even younger than you are now. The most common way is by taking pills filled with the tiny machines we call ¡®bugs¡¯. The bugs go into our blood, and then find their way into our brain. Our brain is the organ inside of our skull, and it¡¯s where we do all our thinking, feeling, seeing and hearing and, well, everything.¡±


    Marcus took a breath and continued. ¡°Usually it takes a lot of pills over time, because some of the bugs might get lost, or destroyed by our body, but as they get into the brain, they begin to link together, and to connect to different parts of our brain that do different things. By taking lots of these pills, eventually there are enough bugs linked together that it forms a computer inside our head, distributed in a web between many different parts of our brain. When you have enough bugs, the computer can show you things in front of your eyes, or put sounds in your ears.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°And that¡¯s what is in my head now!¡± She was excited that something made sense. ¡°But Lilijoy didn¡¯t take any pills did she?¡±


    Marcus nodded, as he wondered about the peculiarities of Lilijoy¡¯s speech patterns. Whats with all the third person? There were so many worthy curiosities attached to her: Why didn¡¯t she understand gender? How did her little tribe come to live next to the Line? How did their society function and where did they come from in the first place? Most urgently, what were the bugs in her head, and how did they get there?


    ¡°Not as far as I know,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure you would remember if you did. They¡¯re pretty big, and not fun to swallow!¡± He regrouped. ¡°Lets start with this. You just started seeing things a day or so ago, right?¡± As she nodded, he continued. ¡°So tell me what happened before that. I¡¯m curious to hear how you got all of these injuries.¡±


    Lilijoy told Marcus about finding the cattails, and her desperate run into the Piles. When she described the Predators, he made a little ¡®ah¡¯ sound, but encouraged her to continue. She recounted her battle with the ferocious Mooster-beast, her victory and the hazy memories that followed. She got to the point where she first heard the voices of two men and finished with ¡°...and then woke up with big bangs and door opened and you picked up.¡±


    Marcus considered her story in silence for quite a while, long enough that Lilijoy began to fidget. He handed her another food bar to occupy her, and went back to contemplation. When he began speaking, it was more to himself than Lilijoy.


    ¡°So we know that the signal was detected by platform sensors at around zero six hundred hours yesterday. It was extremely faint and sporadic, and in an unknown format. When the guys got closer they got one good reading and it was bumped up to priority one uncategorized.¡±


    He looked up, as if remembering Lilijoy was listening. ¡°That means that a computer somewhere decided that this might be a signal from a previously unknown bug network. We take those very seriously, because if it¡¯s a bad bug, Guardian will destroy it and everything around it for miles, just to be sure. Unfortunately, that would include the platform we are on now. If it¡¯s a good bug, it might be very valuable to the right people. The odd thing is that the signal stopped transmitting altogether after that last reading, as if it knew it had been found. All that was there when the guys reached the location was you.¡±


    ¡°So Lilijoy might have bad bugs in her head?¡± Lilijoy whispered, wide eyed and flinching as if expecting to be destroyed from above at any moment.


    ¡°Oh I highly doubt that.¡± Marcus reached out a hand to pat Lilijoy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Bad bugs don¡¯t usually play well with others. You, me and everyone else in the area would already be piles of goo if this was a self replicator. Still, we must be very cautious, because Guardian or those that claim to represent Guardian might not see it the same way. The only thing we know now is that your bug is a human interface builder, that it follows some standard interface rules, is capable of pain and motor blocks, and can send a weak signal. It is very likely that it can do more, maybe much more, and if that is the case, it will be considered very valuable.


    The cheapest bugs, which is what most people can afford, can do seeing, hearing and communications to outside systems. Almost as common are bugs that can interrupt pain signals generally for the entire body, in addition to those other things. When you start to add in other senses, and connections to the parts of the brain that move the body, well, those are bugs that only the wealthy and privileged can afford. We know that yours can at least block movement, so that makes me... very curious as to what else it can do.¡±


    ¡°When it started talking, it said a bunch of weird stuff, and then it gave me a little picture up here.¡± Lilijoy pointed to the air above and to the right of her face, where a small circle with a piece missing was floating. The missing piece was noticeably smaller than the last time she had looked at it. ¡°I don¡¯t think it can talk to me anymore until the circle fills up.¡±


    ¡°Just remember that no one else can see what is on your internal display, unless you know how to share it with them. But I think I get your meaning.¡±


    He started to say something further, but was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door.

 Chapter 9: Deception

    Marcus jumped to his feet and turned to the door. He looked back quickly at Lilijoy and urgently gestured to the other door leading from the room, putting a finger across his lips.


    Talking loudly to himself, he said, ¡°Well I never! How rude is this, showing up without messaging? Did your bugs eat your brain or something?¡±


    He stomped across the room. The lights came up and the door to the hall slid to the side as he approached, allowing the muffled throb of the factory mine to enter the room. At the same moment Lilijoy flung herself into the adjoining room. The lights were down in there almost entirely, but the light from the door that remained open behind her cast a bright wedge into the space.


    Feeling very exposed, she quickly slid to the wall beside the door, getting out of sight, while she appraised the rest of the space she had just entered. A large platform suspended from a wall took up much of the area. The platform was covered by cloths; she figured it was where Marcus slept. There was one more door, all the way on the other side of the room. The only place to hide would be under the bed, but she couldn¡¯t be sure she wouldn¡¯t be visible through the doorway. She froze and listened, rather than do anything rash.


    Marcus¡¯ voice was a bit forced, ¡°Well, well Mo, fancy seeing you here. And who¡¯s your friend? I would have expected Anda to be with you?¡±


    A vaguely familiar voice answered, ¡°None of your fucking business Marcus. I found another interested party, so Anda can go fuck himself. Just hand it over without a fuss, and there might be a little something in it for you too.¡±


    ¡°Well, um...that is to say...you might want to talk to Anda, you see...¡± Marcus stammered.


    ¡°Fuck him and fuck you. Bring the gob out now, or my good friend here might be inclined to taste whatever bugs you have floating around that future corpse of yours.¡± Mo¡¯s voice sounded just a bit shrill.


    ¡°Oh. I see. Yes. It¡¯s just that the reason you need to talk to Anda...¡±


    ¡°Just spit it out already!¡±


    ¡°Well, Anda might have, I mean, he said it was fine with you and...¡±


    She heard the sound of feet entering the room as Marcus continued with his voice tailing off uncertainly, ¡°...he kind of took her already.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    The hitherto silent partner announced in a soft hiss of a voice, ¡°I can smell the Gob. It is still...fresh.¡±


    ¡°Fuck man, all due respect, but that¡¯s some creepy shit right there,¡± Mo replied. ¡°Did you smell it in the hall?¡±


    She couldn¡¯t hear if there was an answer, but Marcus broke in quickly, ¡°It must have been thirty minutes ago. I¡¯m sure that her scent wouldn¡¯t linger in the halls the way it does in here. Look, I¡¯ll just call Anda and we¡¯ll get this all straightened out...¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry about that,¡± said Mo. ¡°By which I mean, don¡¯t even fucking think of calling him. You don¡¯t mind if I look around the place a little, do you? I never get tired of all the fucking variety with the floor plans in this fucking place. Could of been a fucking architect if you ask me.¡±


    The sound of steps approached the door to the bedroom, and Mo¡¯s shadow fell across the bed. Lilijoy held her breath and shrunk into the corner of the room. It was too late to make a break for the space under the bed now. She huddled with her eyes cast onto the floor, perhaps following that primal logic, ¡®if I can¡¯t see them, they can¡¯t see me.¡¯


    Her heart pounded and her mouth felt dry and sour when his feet entered the room. They were large and black; she realized it was some kind of foot clothing. Her knees began to shake uncontrollably and she could almost feel his gaze.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Hey, you mind if I use the john?¡± he yelled back to Marcus. The door across the room slid open, and the light came on in the room beyond. Mo walked over and stuck his head in, made a sound of disgust, and then walked back across the room and out.


    ¡°Not here.¡± she heard him say.


    Her body was overwhelmed by adrenaline, her mind couldn¡¯t grapple with what had just happened. She stayed huddled in the corner, expecting him to jump back into the room and grab her at any moment. From the other room she heard voices, but her jumbled thoughts couldn¡¯t register the words. After another moment, she heard them withdraw and the outer door slide shut. She began to draw shuddering, almost sobbing breaths. Marcus came into the bedroom and shut the door, muttering with a heated voice.


    ¡°Stupid bastard thinks he can just come into my space and look around. No one gets to see anything I don¡¯t want them to see in here!¡±


    He looked over at Lilijoy and said, ¡°Now smells are a different matter. We were lucky his ¡®friend¡¯ didn¡¯t come past the front door. Nasty type, that one.¡±


    Taking in the sight of Lilijoy¡¯s huddled and shaking form, his face softened.


    ¡°Oh my dear, that must have been a little scary for you. I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t have time to explain. My bugs let me shape what others see, or don¡¯t see in our case, as long as the other person is using augsight. It works best in a place I know very well, and for one person at a time. Now please forget I told you that,¡± he said with a little smile. ¡°It¡¯s very important to keep these little abilities secret when we can. I wouldn¡¯t want Mo¡¯s friend to come back for a taste test!¡±


    Lilijoy looked back blankly.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid there are some not very nice aspects to our society, little one. It¡¯s a bit much to explain everything, but you should know the basics about that man, as it seems he has taken a bit of an interest in you. You remember how I told you that almost everybody has some kind of bug system in their brain, and we get them by taking pills?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Well, you can keep taking pills throughout your life, adding to your system. Generally speaking the more bugs, the better, although there are some kinds that don¡¯t work well together, and a few that actively compete. Still, there¡¯s plenty of room up here,¡± he said, knocking on his head.


    ¡°Some years back, some enterprising fellow thought to himself ¡®Why should I pay for pills, when there are walking, talking sources of bugs all around me?¡¯ Initially, he was mostly interested in blood bugs. Oh yes, we have those too.¡± Marcus gave a little sigh of nostalgia.


    ¡°Lovely little bots that can do all kinds of amazing things. Blood cultivators can hold their breath for hours, can run until their muscles fray. Some of them are immune to poisons and diseases. But blood cultivating is very expensive. It needs to be maintained you see. The little machines are always rushing all over the body, working very hard, and they break down much faster than their cousins in the brain. The luckiest, wealthiest blood cultivators will actually implant little bug factories somewhere in their bodies, but that costs more than someone like Mo might see in a hundred lifetimes. The rest just add more in when they can. So you can imagine the temptation to just dip into your neighbor for a quick fix.¡± He mimed grabbing and biting an imaginary victim.


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s not quite so simple as drinking blood; it¡¯s quite difficult for free floating bugs to make it through the stomach. That¡¯s why we have pills designed for such things. But through a variety of techniques, these bug thieves manage to steal from other people¡¯s bodies. We call them vampires, after a legendary creature that lived by drinking the blood of others. Some of them have embraced the mythology of the vampire quite proudly, and I¡¯m afraid our new friend is one of those. He¡¯s upgraded his sense of smell, and who knows what else. If he¡¯s a blood cultivator he will be tireless in pursuit. He may have other kinds of upgrades as well, but it¡¯s no use speculating. He¡¯s a nasty character, and we will have to move very quickly now that he¡¯s in the picture.¡±


    Lilijoy hugged herself with her working arm and said softly, ¡°Lilijoy needs to run away from these people. Maybe hide in the Piles again.¡± Tears began to well up in her eyes.


    ¡°Stupid cattails! Stupid Predators!¡± She paused. ¡°Stupid Lilijoy. Can¡¯t understand what you saying except bad man wants to drink blood. Don¡¯t want bugs in brain!¡± She looked at Marcus with wide eyes. ¡°Take bugs out?¡±


    Marcus shook his head. ¡°There are ways, but I would need to understand your bugs very well to remove them without harming you. It may come to that, but first, I have one more thing to do. I was really hoping I wouldn¡¯t need to do this.¡±


    He gave her a serious look. ¡°I have some special bugs that I can send to try and find out more about yours. I might even be able to talk to them. It will take a little bit of time, so it needs to happen right away. I¡¯m guessing we have no more than an hour before they return, or somebody else gets wind of the situation.¡±


    ¡°Will it hurt?¡±


    ¡°Not a bit! Probably. Hop up on the bed and we can get started.¡±

 Chapter 10: Procedure

    While Lilijoy settled herself on the bed, Marcus closed his eyes and calmed his mind. He summoned the connection to his internal network and entered a mind space he had developed over many years. It existed as an overlap of visualization and virtual reality, augsight applied to imagination, making a tangible volume he could enter at will.


    The mind space manifested as a cathedral dome of black velvet, the ceiling above lost to vision, the walls rippling, hinting at ribbed vaults and buttresses. Glowing windows of muted aurora borealis provided an ever shifting illumination around the edges. Within the nave, a dome of soft white light with no particular source embraced a circular table carved of dark wood. The eight legs of the table seemed to grow out of the floor, twisting around each other into a spiral central pillar. Eight evenly spaced book shelves, filled with huge leather-spined volumes and all manner of astrolabes, alembics and intricate glassware completed the area.


    He walked up to the table and looked down upon the top, white and dark marble laid in an intricate spiral pattern. The pattern was slowly shifting, though the stone itself seemed utterly solid and tangible. After he watched the pattern change for a while, he looked up at the form suspended above, a man¡¯s body made of darkness and swirls of light. His body.


    He reached out, and as he touched it he fell forward into the navel and the swirls of light became galaxies of millions of stars surrounding him, resolving further into webs of interconnected filaments. He moved his arms across the cosmic stage and stroked the webs gently with his fingers, gathering them until his hands shone with milky radiance.


    He opened his eyes and looked at Lilijoy, gracefully balancing internal and external realities.


    ¡°Are you ready, my dear?¡±


    She looked up at him and gave a quick nod. He gently took her head between his hands, one palm on her forehead, the other at the back of her skull. Closing his eyes again, he returned entirely to the cosmic environ. Between his glowing hands was a void of utter darkness. Slowly, gently he coaxed the filaments of light to flow towards each other through the void, his hands melting from the palms.


    Minutes passed before the progress of the light was obvious, his hands becoming blurred and amorphous, the tendrils flowing from his palms reached toward each other across a portion of the expanse, perhaps a tenth.


    ¡°Please be patient,¡± he said. ¡°Try not to move. It could be very bad if I lost the connection. You can talk if you need to.¡±


    ¡°It tingles,¡± she said.


    ¡°That¡¯s completely normal,¡± he replied.


    In truth, it was virtually impossible she would feel anything at this stage. The nanoscale filaments making their way through her skin and skull were far too small to trigger any nerve endings. It was simply human nature to have sensations of warmth or tingling in this type of situation.


    ¡°How much longer?¡± she asked.


    ¡°At least ten minutes, possibly more. It depends on where your bugs have set up in your brain.¡±


    It would take his bugs about a minute to travel a centimeter, building the filaments by linking end to end, slowing down a bit as they spread out. With luck, he would find the visual cortex quickly, as he knew for sure that her network had a presence there. A few minutes to set up a reliable ongoing communication channel, and then a similar amount of time to withdraw his bugs.


    It would be tragic if he lost more than a small percentage, as they were irreplaceable and he only had a limited supply. That was why he had hesitated to do this at all, and why he wanted to make sure that Lilijoy would not panic. It would have been better to do the procedure when she was unconscious, but he didn¡¯t have the means to anesthetize her in his room, and hadn¡¯t dared to try it while she was merely asleep. If she woke up and jerked free from his hands, that would be a huge loss for him.


    He returned his focus to the progress of his exploration. The tendrils had reached the visual cortex by now. He could feel neurons firing all around him, a crackling wave of waves. The void between his hands remained utterly dark, other than the emerging outline of Lilijoy¡¯s neuroanatomy, traced by the milky light of the searching filaments. He exulted in the beauty and majesty. Here was the universe and that which contained it!Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Still, it was a bit odd that he had found no sign of the other bugs. It had been many years since he had last performed this procedure, but typically the visual cortex was a hotbed of bug activity, and his sensor bugs were designed to detect and intercept the presence and communications of other networks. He sighed to himself and waited as the glow expanded.


    Another minute passed. And another, still with no sign. Several inches of Lilijoy¡¯s brain glowed between his hands, the front and back portion still separated by darkness. Then he noticed something. The rate of the progress seemed to have slowed. He looked carefully. Yes. In fact it had now stopped altogether.


    He sent his awareness into the finest levels of the sensor bugs at the front edge, and felt something pushing him back. Pushing him back faster and faster.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Did I just say that out loud?, he thought.


    A wave of darkness was pushing the light back. No, that was an illusion. The bugs were actually disappearing from his awareness. In a few seconds, he had lost almost a minute¡¯s worth of progress. This time he swore quite purposefully.


    ¡°Shit, shit, shit. Oh crap!¡±


    By the time he finished speaking, the wave had accelerated further. Panicking, he began to withdraw, the blackness following his tendrils far faster than he could remove them, consuming as it went. In an instant, he lost everything inside her skull. There the blackness stopped, leaving him with a centimeter¡¯s worth of penetration from either palm. He took a moment to sigh in relief and despair at once. Whatever was disabling his bugs wouldn¡¯t be able to follow through the bone; that took a very specialized tool set, part of what made his bugs so unique.


    He went to finish the withdrawal, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just occurred, when the black surged again, through the skull. He ripped his hands from Lilijoy¡¯s head just as the darkness reached his palms.


    From Lilijoy¡¯s perspective, Marcus had been sitting next to her serenely for a subjective eternity. Suddenly, under his breath she heard him swear. Then he swore some more, almost yelling, followed by a sudden intake of breath, just a moment before he hurled himself away from her, falling off the bed onto the floor, where he curled up, making whimpering noises and clenching and releasing his hands repeatedly.


    She was pretty sure this was not an expected outcome.


    ¡°Can I move now?¡± she called down to him.


    He made a sound as he pulled himself up onto his knees. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if he was laughing or crying. He looked down at his hands, examining the palms, and then looked up at her. His face was angry, and his gaze piercing.


    He looked down at his hands again and said, ¡°I think you better go, kid. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve got in you, but I haven¡¯t lived as long as I have without knowing when to cut my losses.¡± He shook his head ¡°I¡¯m not going to stick around here either. I¡¯ve got my own problems and I don¡¯t need the attention you are going to bring down on this place.¡±


    Stunned, Lilijoy could only watch as he went into the other room and began filling two bags with food bars and water packets. He came back into the bedroom and grabbed a larger bag with a long strap attached to it from under the bed. His movements were abrupt almost violent, but when he spoke to her again his voice was gentler than before.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said. ¡°You don¡¯t deserve this. You need to come with me now and I¡¯ll get you started on your way. I put some food and water in this bag for you; it¡¯s a little heavy, so I¡¯ll carry it for now.¡± She stared at him blankly, and he gestured impatiently. ¡°We have to go. Now!¡±


    Lilijoy was confused by Marcus¡¯ change of attitude. He had been so nice to her before he fell down, and now he was angry. And also afraid? She realized that her thinking felt clear in a way it had never before, and even though everything over the last day had been new and frightening in many ways, her experiences had already changed her.


    Most of what Marcus had told her didn¡¯t make sense at the time, but she could remember all of it, every word, and as she kept turning it over in her mind, more and more parts of it made sense to her, falling into place. She felt like she had been a floating piece of cattail fluff, never knowing when the wind would blow her in a new direction, with no choice in the matter. She couldn¡¯t imagine going back to her little group by the piles, and now Marcus was trying to take her somewhere and abandon her. She began to feel angry herself.


    ¡°Lilijoy is not a piece of cattail fluff that you can blow wherever you want! You may know more than me, but Lilijoy...¡± She stopped herself, ¡°...no, I, I want choices. You can tell me choices while we walk!¡±


    She jumped down off the bed, and strode into the other room, while Marcus looked on with his jaw dropped. She stopped in front of the closed door and tapped her foot, like she had seen Grabby do when he was impatient with the Bros. She yelled over her shoulder.


    ¡°Are you coming? Open this...this shit door!¡± The door slid to the side, and Lilijoy strode out into the hall, into the noise and throbbing vibrations of the factory mine, with Marcus close on her heels.

 Chapter 11: Anda

    Lilijoy walked purposefully down the hall through the blinding light and oppressive noise. Her pillowcase dress flapped against her knees and her bare feet slapped on the metal floor. She was too proud to let the pain from the cuts on her feet slow her pace, and the cacophonous environment kept her from hearing Marcus call out as she walked straight into a pair of legs wrapped in a vibrant red cloth.


    The legs were quite skinny, and attached to a tall man who blinked down at her in surprise as she looked up in alarm. His expression reworked itself into a delighted smile. He was by far the tallest person Lilijoy had seen, a record that was being broken so regularly that she wondered if she would be running into peoples knees or ankles in coming days. She had to squint to make out any details of his face beyond his big white teeth and dark skin; the ring of bright light around his head showcased a perfectly smooth dome with protruding, oddly shaped ears on the sides. Craning her head back caused her to lose her balance and fall back onto her bottom.


    Suddenly the noise diminished and Lilijoy felt her ears pop. The vibrations from the floor continued unabated.


    ¡°Good to see you back on your feet Lilijoy! At least until a moment ago,¡± he said, in a sonorous voice full of humor. He reached down and offered a hand the size of her head. She looked at it for a moment, grabbed a finger and pulled herself up.


    ¡°How do you know name?¡± She kept her hand wrapped around his index finger, forgetting to let go.


    ¡°Oh, Marcus told me all about you when he asked me to come. My name is Anda, and the last time we met you were not doing nearly as well.¡±


    Marcus broke in, ¡°Sorry to interrupt your reunion, but the clock is ticking and we need to move!¡±


    He addressed Anda. ¡°Did you get the car? And stop the sonic dampening, it''s too easy to track.¡±


    ¡°Yes. It is in the dirt level back port cargo bay. It¡¯s a bit of a hike.¡±


    Anda looked down at Lilijoy. ¡°How would you like a ride?¡± he asked.


    Ignoring the beginnings of her answer, he picked her up and cradled her in a seated position in the crook of one arm. With a whoosh, the sounds of the factory returned to batter her eardrums, and then they were moving down the hallway at full speed.


    Not back to cattail fluff again! she thought, but decided the best option was to relax and enjoy the ride. Besides, she liked the way Anda smelled, like earth and rain.


    What followed was a whirlwind of stairs and hallways, as they made their way through the structure of the vast machine. After descending five flights of stairs, they reached hallways where the lights were comfortable for her, and the sound had diminished enough for speech. Ducts and cables covered the walls and ceilings, and at times Anda had to duck under pipes that crossed overhead.


    ¡°We¡¯re taking the maintenance halls. Hopefully we won¡¯t meet anyone down here.¡± Anda spoke in a loud voice, just above the ambient sounds. ¡°Marcus told me about what happened with Mo and his vampire friend. He also told me that you have a bug that scared the living daylights out of him. I have known Marcus a long time, though lately we have been avoiding each other, and I have never known him to be alarmed for no good reason.¡±


    ¡°When did you talk to Marcus?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°He never left the room for even a second.¡±


    ¡°You have so much to learn, Lilijoy. I almost envy you all the miracles you will discover when this situation clears up. To answer your question, our bugs let us send messages with our thoughts when we are near to each other, or when we are connected to a network, like that which exists in this machine.¡± He gestured with his other arm to encompass their surroundings. ¡°We can talk like we are talking now, but usually we just send words for each other to read.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°First, we are going to the very farthest and lowest corner of this place. I left a hovercraft there for us, which will allow us to get..¡± He ducked under a pipe ¡°..get far away from here. We can talk more once we are on our way. Even down here there may be ears.¡±


    Alarmed, Lilijoy looked around for ears, but didn¡¯t see any. Of course, she realized, they are probably very small ears, and hard to see.


    Another thought occurred to her. ¡°Anda, why does Mo call me a ¡®Gob¡¯? That sounds like a mean name, but I¡¯ve never heard it before.¡±


    Anda thought for a moment as he made his way through the corridor. ¡°Please allow me to choose my words carefully. Gob is short for Goblin. There is a place we can go, called the Inside, which is similar to this world in many ways. Goblins are creatures that live there. They look like small people with no hair, greenish skin, big pointy ears and lots of sharp teeth. Thoughtless people in our world, the Outside, call people like you, who are small and have been harmed by the environment ¡®Gobs¡¯ because they think you are less than human, like the goblins on the Inside.¡±


    This created many more questions for Lilijoy and over the rest of their trek, Anda taught her about the Inside, the Outside and the ¡®environment¡¯. She had never realized that the place she had lived was poison to her, making her hair thin and brittle, her teeth weak, and worst of all, warping and limiting her growth. She learned about the separate world of the Inside, where humans could learn and grow without harming the environment or threatening the Earth. A place of wonders and terror where no death or injury was permanent and where anyone could become wise and powerful. Many humans spent all of their time Inside, escaping from the wreckage of their first home.


    Before she knew it, they entered a large open space with countless crates stacked in huge piles, and strange contraptions like giant arms dangling from the ceiling on interwoven tracks. A huge door was open to the outside, well above the ground, and through it she could see the Piles stretching off to the horizon. Now she understood why they called it the Line. It was all a matter of perspective.


    In the middle of the bay was a large oval structure, twenty feet long and ten feet wide, the top covered in a transparent, faceted dome. It looked to Lilijoy like a giant, shiny roach. Through the dome she could see seats. The lower part of what she assumed must be the hovercraft was a dark, hazy material, slightly translucent to the light from the door behind it.


    ¡°Here we are!¡± proclaimed Anda. The facets on the side of the dome began to rotate behind one another in a circular pattern, forming an opening and the vehicle smoothly rose several inches from the floor.


    As they approached it, Lilijoy felt Anda stumble and his lanky body begin to fold. Without warning she found herself falling and rolling on the hard floor. A sharp popping noise echoed through the bay. Stunned, she looked behind her, only to see Marcus diving to the floor as another pop rang out. Two figures moved swiftly toward her, one clomping noisily, the other almost gliding.


    The smooth moving person gently vaulted Anda¡¯s prone form and reached her before she could react. He held a device of some kind in one hand, and he bent over her and brought it toward her head, his smooth white face expressionless with no sign of exertion from sprinting across the bay almost faster than she could process. Behind him, she could see Anda¡¯s face.


    Oddly, he had a tiny smile as he met her eyes, and then a thunderous roaring sound pressed her body to the floor. She felt hot pressure from a powerful curtain of air and heard a resonant thump as a shadow passed over her, resolving into the other side of the hovercraft. It moved across the bay and slammed into a pile of crates, before rebounding back towards her. The smooth moving man was revealed sprawled over and among the falling boxes, knocked there by the vehicle.


    As he pulled in his limbs and somehow pushed himself off the floor into the air back towards her, she felt Anda scoop her up and throw himself backwards into the moving hovercraft as it followed its new trajectory.


    She caught a glimpse of the other man where he stood over Marcus, squat and powerfully built, mouth agape and wide eyed as he watched the scene unfold, and then she was falling again, the hovercraft leaving the bay and dropping ten feet or so to crunch into the ground. Anda kept her from flying around the interior, and then they were gliding, moving away from the vast monolithic presence of the factory mine. She caught a last glimpse of the freight bay door, framing the smooth man as he stood passively watching them recede.


    ¡°What about Marcus? Is he going to be alright?¡± Lilijoy asked in a panic.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°I¡¯m talking to him now,¡± said Anda. ¡°He¡¯s tougher than he looks, and he has powerful allies. I don¡¯t think they will mess with him too much.¡±


    ¡°But what about the vampire guy? Won¡¯t he steal his bugs? Can¡¯t you go back and save him?¡±


    Lilijoy felt terrible about abandoning Marcus. After all, he had helped her, and then she had somehow ruined his special bugs.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that would be a good idea,¡± said Anda. Something about the tone of his voice made her look over at him more carefully. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his face was drawn. Then she saw blood dripping from his seat onto the floor.


    ¡°Oh no. Anda! What do I do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, I should be okay in a bit. Maybe you can help me stop the bleeding? He shot me with something nasty, and I¡¯m fighting it as best I can. Normally, my med bugs would have stopped the bleeding already, but they¡¯re busy fighting off some bad bugs in my bloodstream that are trying to get into my head. I need to focus now...¡±


    He tailed off and his eyes closed. The hovercraft slowed to a walking pace, and Anda slumped out of his chair and on to the floor, almost purposefully. She could see the blood was coming from the back of his left thigh, welling out in a gentle rhythm. Already a new pool was forming where he lay. She gathered up some of the red cloth he wore and pressed it onto the wound with all her weight.


    How nice that the cloth won¡¯t show the stain, she thought randomly.


    She knelt, leaning on Anda¡¯s leg, and looked around the craft for a better solution. Six seats flowed out of the deck material, translucent gray and firm yet oddly squishy. There was no obvious way to steer, and no other compartments...wait...there was a sunken spot in the deck that might be a handle.


    She left Anda¡¯s side and dashed over to the spot, grasping it and hauling upwards with her one good arm. After a moment¡¯s reluctance, a hatch opened with a ¡®foop¡¯ and she was looking into a compartment holding a variety of boxes secured with straps. She figured out that the straps were stretchy, and with a small effort, she was able to remove the boxes and toss them over to where Anda lay. She noted that blood was beginning to flow from underneath her improvised bandage again.


    Running back over, she pressed down on his wound with one a foot, while sorting through the boxes. Some of them had no obvious latches or buttons, and she tossed those to the side. She found one that contained wrapped food bars, and another that held metal implements with a variety of shapes and sizes. She set aside a few of the more interesting ones for later perusal. A white box with a picture of a letter of some kind, surrounded by red zig-zag shapes looked exciting, but she couldn¡¯t open it with one hand, so she moved on to the next one, again white with a large red cross shape and one large latch.


    After some struggle (she had to hold it down with a foot while trying to pry up the latch, still keeping pressure on Anda¡¯s leg with her other foot), the latch finally popped. Jackpot! Bandages and strange canisters and some sharp metal things.


    She was beginning to try to figure out how to attach the bandages, using her arm as a model, when Anda resurfaced for a moment, with a groan. He gestured for her to bring over the container, and then retrieved a canister, popping off the top with his thumb. He showed Lilijoy how to press the button that caused a spray to come out of a little nozzle. Then without a word his head slumped and he went back to whatever internal process was occupying him.


    Lilijoy reached over to get the canister from his limp fingers. She just hoped she was supposed to spray it on his wound and not in his mouth or something! As she moved back to his lower half, she saw movement through the canopy of the hovercraft.


    For the first second, she thought nothing of it, as the craft was still in motion itself, but a second take showed her the unfortunate truth. Somebody was outside the hovercraft, chasing after it and they were gaining fast on the slow moving vehicle.


    With no time to lose she pulled the cloth from the wound and sprayed for all she was worth.


    ¡°Wake up, Anda! There¡¯s someone chasing us. We need to go fast again!¡± she yelled, but he remained unresponsive.


    Looking back, she saw that the figure was close enough to identify. The vampire ran smoothly, without a trace of effort on his face until he noticed her looking out from the canopy, when he displayed a wry smile of greeting. Somehow, that scared her much more than an expression of anger or threat. The expression vanished without a trace and he burst forward with a new level of speed. His short blond hair and puffy cheeks gave him an impression of youthful good nature that was very much at odds with his behavior to this point.


    ¡°Please, Anda,¡± she begged, as she looked at the metal things she had set aside.


    There were a few candidates for self defense: A very heavy club-like thing with a hooked end she could barely lift one-handed; she dropped that idea. A smaller club with a t-shaped head, one side blunt, the other pointy, was still heavy, but she was out of time, as there was a tremendous thud and the entire hovercraft slewed.


    The vampire was clinging to the canopy, looking down at her with a gleeful expression. He had the device from before clutched in one hand as he splayed out, trying to find purchase on the faceted dome. His face took on a disappointed expression as he started to slide down, his empty hand making a squealing noise. He dropped off and disappeared for a moment, then was up and walking quickly alongside her, considering the situation.


    She watched as he put the device away somewhere in the heavy open shirt he wore over another shirt, gave her a quick wave with his now free hand, and began to bang on the canopy experimentally. The canopy proved to be quite resilient to his blows, so she tried again to wake Anda.


    ¡°Anda, the vampire guy is here!¡±


    She went up to his face and yelled in his ear while shaking his shoulder. ¡°I SAID THE VAMPIRE GUY IS HERE!¡±


    The vampire guy in question looked in at her and gestured to himself with an innocent expression, as if to say ¡®Who, me?¡¯ then shrugged and ran off. He came back with a fist sized rock, and began hammering on the joint between two facets.


    Lilijoy gave up on Anda, and began pounding the latch of an unopened container with her club, as much to do something, anything, other than sit and watch the creepy sight of the vampire guy¡¯s open smile as he hammered viciously. The white container was not overly committed to staying closed, and it opened with a crack, flipped over and began emitting a whining noise.


    At the same time, the panel under the vampire¡¯s care gave a crack of its own and fell into the hovercraft, still hanging from a lower edge. The vampire tossed the rock aside and leapt for the opening, getting a hand and his head through, just as Lilijoy ran over swinging with all her one-armed might.


    He tried to grab at the club, but his arm was not all the way in, and he just missed intercepting the blow to his head. The shock of the hit ran down Lilijoy¡¯s arm, and his head was knocked into the edge of the clear panel. His eyes lost focus for a moment, and he gave Lilijoy a less friendly smile and quickly withdrew from the opening, dropping down to jog alongside once more.


    Blood welled up from a gash where his head had hit the edge of the panel, and then stopped, disappearing back into the open cut. The mark on his temple from the club faded. He gave her a finger wag, and then ran off again.


    Soon he was back with an even larger rock, which he wielded effortlessly, smashing at the next panel over from the opening. Lilijoy tried throwing some of the metal objects out the opening, but even when they hit him, he showed no concern and continued to slam the rock savagely into the pane, which was already buckling. Lilijoy gave up on throwing things and prepared to fend off another assault once the pane broke.


    Her arm trembled from the weight of the club, sweat ran down her face and back, and the cuts on her feet and knees were open and bleeding again from scrambling around the craft. Her body ached and her injured arm was also bleeding again, soaking the white bandages. As she waited, she had an idea.


    ¡°Ouch,¡± she said, also thinking at her bugs. ¡°Ouch, ouch ouch, ouch.¡± She figured more ¡®ouches¡¯ wouldn¡¯t hurt! A wave of relief came over her, followed by a pleasant, light headed feeling. The voice from the bugs came into her head.


    ¡°Extreme levels of cortisol and adrenaline detected. If you would like to be unconscious, please think ¡®sleep¡¯ three times. If sleep is not advisable, you may do nothing. If you are in an active emergency situation and require more strength or energy, please think ¡®boost¡¯ three times.¡±


    She hadn¡¯t noticed that the little picture was full! It had actually gone down a bit after the debacle with Marcus, and she had been too distracted to notice it since then. Then the words of the voice actually sunk in. It said ¡®boost!¡¯


    As quickly as she could, she thought it, boost!, boost!, boost!


    The hammering of the vampire seemed to slow and fade. Her vision focused, like she was looking through a tunnel and explosive energy filled her body, just as the final blow to the panel sent it winging across the hovercraft. She readied her hammer and swung at the vampire, but underestimated his speed. He smoothly arced his body through the enlarged hole and she missed him entirely, spinning in a circle and falling on her back next to Anda, the club flying from her hand to careen off the panels on the opposite side of the vehicle.


    Her back and shoulders landed on a container awkwardly, but she felt no pain. The vampire gained his feet and reached into his jacket for the device, then seemed to change his mind. A single stride took him over to where she lay. She saw a black stick rolling out from under her and grabbed it, as the vampire planted his foot firmly in the pool of blood next to Anda¡¯s thigh wound.


    The foot kept going, slipping in the blood and pulling the vampire into a split over her, just as she brought the stick up and jammed it into his crotch. There was a sharp crackling noise and the vampire jumped in place, body arcing. He collapsed on to her, but she wriggled free between his legs before his weight could pin her down and turned to see him struggling to his feet. She thrust the stick as hard as she could into the back of his head, and he made a coughing, choking sound and fell onto his front.


    The next few minutes were a blur of activity, as she beat him repeatedly with the stick, and when that broke, she picked up her club and beat him until fatigue hit her like a ton of rocks. She collapsed onto his still body, and listened to the voice in her head.


    ¡°This message will repeat until acknowledged: Please be aware that emergency strength and energy boosts can result in damage to muscles and ligaments. Expect periods of extreme fatigue and lethargy for twenty four to thirty six hours. Do not operate a vehicle or heavy machinery when boosted, and avoid strenuous activity for at least twelve hours after. Please acknowledge. Repeating. This message will repeat until...¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes I get it,¡± she moaned. Then she had an even better idea.


    Sleep, sleep, sleep, she thought, and she was out.

 Chapter 12: Legacy

    Waking up covered in blood seemed to be a pattern in Lilijoy¡¯s life recently.


    She wasn¡¯t sure where she was at first. She felt cool night air across her face, followed by sticky, itchy and crusty sensations that were entirely unwelcome. It was very dark and there was a gentle sensation of movement. In the distance, she could hear the thrumming of the factory mine.


    She was lying on something soft, with hard lumps and an unpleasant smell. Strike that. A really unpleasant smell. She lay there, uncomprehending for another instant, and then launched to her feet, doing the ¡®I just slept on a dead body dance¡¯, which involved much shuddering and retching, and very little rhythm.


    The cabin smelled of human waste, blood and sweat. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the low light, and she could see the (very) dead body of the vampire, next to Anda¡¯s hopefully still living body. She steeled herself and checked him for signs of life; he was warm and breathing.


    ¡°Anda!¡± she hissed, and then wondered why she was whispering. He mumbled something and stirred, but did not wake entirely.


    She went over to the compartment, where she had seen a water container. It was too heavy to lift, even if she had two arms, but she felt around and found a spout near the bottom. The compartment was empty, other than the water, so she figured out how to get the water to come out and let it run, until she could haul the container out onto the deck. Then she got down into the compartment carefully, afraid at first it would be too deep for her to get out easily. As it turned out, the edge was only just above her rib cage, so she relaxed, shed her pillowcase dress and began to rinse herself in the cool water as best she could, at least to get some of the blood out of her hair and off her face.


    As she finished, she became aware that Anda was sitting up and looking over in her direction.


    ¡°I have to say,¡± he said. ¡°Of all the times I have woken up not know who was sleeping next to me, this is by far the most disturbing.¡±


    He pulled himself up onto one of the seats saying, ¡°I really hate to do this. Cover yourself or cover your eyes, I¡¯m going to turn on some lights.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine any reason she would need to cover herself from light, although she was starting to feel chilly. Her eyes on the other hand...she quickly put her hand over her eyes, as parts of the canopy began to luminesce, casting a gentle green glow over the inside of the hovercraft.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°I can see I missed a few things as I caught my beauty rest! Are you up to telling me how on earth a...pulped vampire came to visit our humble craft?¡±


    Lilijoy enjoyed the funny way he spoke. ¡°He came through the window,¡± she said. ¡°The pulp part came later.¡±


    Anda chuckled and shook his head. ¡°I have lived to see a little girl destroy a fully enhanced vampire with nothing more than a...¡± He looked around ¡°...hammer?¡±


    ¡°There was a buzzy stick too,¡± Lilijoy admitted, uncovering her eyes now that she knew the light wasn¡¯t too bright.


    Anda shook his head again, testing his leg. He hissed through his teeth, and then seemed to relax.


    ¡°That was some extraordinarily nasty stuff in those bullets. I think even Marcus would have had a little trouble.¡±


    Lilijoy tilted her head, and he elaborated.


    ¡°I keep forgetting how little you know of the world. Mr. Vampire here had a device called a ¡®gun¡¯ that could shoot out pellets full of bugs at very high speeds. One of them hit me in the leg, and fighting them off took all of my attention. I went through my entire supply of med bugs, little guys I keep in a special place in my body to help me survive and heal in emergencies. I try only to use them if my life is in danger, because they are very expensive, and not always easy to replace. The bugs in the pellet were designed to neutralize other bugs without destroying them, and then make their way into my brain and put me to sleep. Thankfully, enough of my brain bugs recovered to get my network up and running again, but I¡¯m afraid the med bugs are a total loss.¡±


    He shrugged, ¡°Well, I imagine I owe you thanks for keeping me from bleeding to death, along with everything else.¡±


    He looked her in the eyes with a serious expression.


    ¡°Lilijoy, I owe you my life. That is no small thing. I am not what I once was, but I will be able to help you without reservation while you adapt to a new world and learn about your legacy.¡±


    She made a noise of confusion, and again he patiently explained.


    ¡°When a bug is found that is unknown by today¡¯s wisdom, we call it a ¡®legacy¡¯ bug. Long ago, thousands of different bugs were designed by many different groups, over several decades. Bugs for every purpose imaginable. When the world collapsed, and Guardian rose, just as many were lost as were maintained. Most of the lost bugs are gone forever, destroyed or decayed, but once in a great while, one is found that still functions as intended. Often, they must be eradicated immediately for breaking Guardian¡¯s rules. Equally often, they have been surpassed in their design by the generations that followed and offer little to us. Once in great while, a bug is found with functions or abilities not seen in over a hundred years. Those are the Legacy Bugs, and that, my dear, along with enough spirit for ten men my size, is what I strongly suspect you have within.¡±


    ***If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    After a very unpleasant cleanup, a bite to eat, and other bodily necessities complicated by their various injuries, they resumed their journey. Any predators in the area had stayed well away from the hovercraft, but Lilijoy saw a group of the beasts converge on the body they left behind as they drove away.


    ¡°Do you think the predators will get any blood bugs from the vampire?¡± she asked Anda as they moved through the night, lights once again completely off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why they wouldn¡¯t,¡± he replied. ¡°Blood bugs are usually pretty simple. They act just like the part of our blood that carries oxygen to other parts of the body, only vastly better. If he had any immune bugs, which destroy diseases and some poisons, then those doggies might be for a rough time.¡±


    After this followed a long and mutually confusing conversation about the predators, which turned out to be something called dogs, and then oxygen, and cells, and the immune system. By the time they wound down their conversation, the smear of vaguely round light known as the sun was coming over the horizon. They settled into a long, comfortable silence, which allowed Lilijoy to process all that she had learned from Marcus and Anda.


    Oddly to her, she no longer felt disoriented as new information was poured over her head. Rather it felt like she was building an enormous structure, and though she had very few parts of it, she had an instinct for where each new piece should go.


    After turning things over in her head some more, she asked Anda, ¡°If the dogs can carry some kinds of bugs in their bodies, do you think that¡¯s where my legacy came from? I think I bit that dog that attacked me an awful lot. Maybe I vampired from the dog.¡±


    Considering the new verb ¡®to vampire¡¯ for a moment, Anda replied, ¡°It¡¯s very unlikely, almost impossibly unlikely. Even if you ate the dog¡¯s brain, at most a few thousand bugs could have made it into yours. The problem is, it usually takes thousands of thousands to set up even a basic network. I would consider it more likely that some mysterious person gave you the bugs without your awareness. Or that you ate something containing a very small pill. Your legacy bugs are very unusual creatures, and we know almost nothing about them. Maybe you breathed them in in mist form. Or maybe you¡¯ve had them for a very long time, and they became active recently. It could be anything!¡±


    Disappointed that her idea was probably wrong, Lilijoy slumped in her seat, her legs dangling. She looked out over the landscape for a while. They were driving through an area of rolling hills, covered by hardened grasses. The desolate, glassy wasteland had been left behind sometime during the night, exchanged for the narrow dark blue-green blades of the grasses.


    There was a constant low level cracking as the hovercraft drove through the tallest of the grasses. Though most didn¡¯t rise more than a foot or so, the tallest hardened grasses were more inclined to snap than bend. When they stopped for a bathroom break, the hissing sound of the wind passed through the stiff blades with a high pitched harmonic timbre, beautiful and eerie.


    While on the ground, they needed to step carefully to avoid punctures and cuts on feet and calves. Lilijoy was worried for Anda with his injured leg. If he fell into the grass, she thought, he might be pierced in a hundred places and bleed to death. When she expressed her fears, Anda waved her off.


    "I grew up in grasslands much like these. My people have cultivated bugs for our skin that protect us from simple cuts, and even powerful weapons. If that vampire hadn''t had special bullets, I wouldn''t even have a scratch from his gun."


    There were no signs of animal life, though hundreds of low mounds dotting the landscape were evidently filled with insects called ¡®termites¡¯, who seemed to be one of the major beneficiaries of the new natural regime. Anda had told her that in the past this area was filled with so many trees that it was almost impossible to navigate, but that the trees had dried up and burned over a hundred years ago. Here and there were patches of tall soft grasses, little groves of small hardened trees, and even a rare hardy tall tree that had somehow clung to existence amid all the changes.


    Lilijoy felt sad for the old trees, she thought they must be very lonely.


    Overall they had been gradually descending for some time now, headed for what Anda called the Rio Negro wetland. The first sign that they had arrived was a consistent flattening of the landscape. This was followed by a smell almost like Night¡¯s Safety during the rains, and then, most horrible of all, dense clouds of tiny flying insects that came in through the broken canopy and got in her eyes and nose. She flailed at them ineffectively, and had to resort to covering her lower face by pulling the neck of her pillow case dress up. Anda laughed off the irritation, and told her to be thankful that these didn¡¯t bite.


    Following the former river was easy for the hovercraft, but the foul smell and flying companions made Lilijoy question his judgment in their travel plans. They followed a narrow channel of open water surrounded by mud and grasses, Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what kind. Sometimes there were even huge stands of cattails!


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t understand why Anda was resistant to stopping to procure their succulent roots and stems, though another part of her would have been just as happy never to see a cattail again.


    After hours of travel down the channeled mud she saw the first sign of human presence, an ancient craft of some kind rolled on its side and half consumed by the mud. Lilijoy wanted to stop and look, but Anda said, ¡°If we stop for every abandoned boat sticking out of the mud, we won¡¯t reach the city for weeks.¡±


    Upon seeing her quivering lip, he relented and they slowed and moved closer. Covered in slime and moss, the relic was about the size of the hovercraft, though it must have been much taller when upright. The top part had been a cabin, and she could still see a single tall seat projecting sideways in the air. She saw movement, and became aware of a family of small eyes looking back at her from the dark interior.


    ¡°Look Anda! Rats!¡± she squealed.


    Lilijoy loved rats. There had been a small population living in the piles somehow when she was younger, though they had moved on, probably following after the factory mine and its organic waste. They were the only animal she had seen until the predators, and the rare daytime sighting of a rat at the edge of the piles had been the most exciting event in young Lilijoy¡¯s existence.


    Anda seemed less excited, and with a shudder, he turned the hovercraft away and headed back down the flats.


    Over the next hour they saw abandoned boats, shacks, and even the back end of some massive treaded vehicle sticking out of the swamp.


    Anda gave a chuckle at that one. ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered what the story is with that one,¡± he said as he pointed it out. ¡°There must be a good story why a construction crane that size ended up in the middle of the river channel, several miles up-stream from the city.¡±


    After the crane, there were more and more structures visible off to the sides of the former river, mostly just a wall or two sticking out of the grasses. The sun was at the horizon as they emerged onto a body of water so far beyond Lilijoy¡¯s experience she could only gaze in awe. If she could walk across it, she thought it might take fifteen minutes or more! Her eyes followed the water to the other side and stopped, refusing to interpret what was in front of them. She pointed her hand in the same direction and for several long moments made inarticulate noises, as Anda looked on with fond amusement. He had been looking forward to Lilijoy¡¯s first sight of a city, and it was everything he had hoped for.

 Chapter 13: Taijitu

    New Manaus lay glowing across the water, dome heaped upon luminous dome, like a foam of blue and green bubbles washed to shore. It sat within and upon the abandoned city of Manaus, and the silhouettes of crumbing rectangular structures only showcased the elegant lightness of its appearance. Lilijoy sat entranced, the only sound the gentle lapping of small waves from the lake upon the shore. After several minutes she turned to Anda.


    ¡°People live there? How many? Are we going there? Can we go there?¡±


    The questions came out in a rush, and Anda smiled as he said, ¡°Yes. About one hundred thousand, not yet and yes we can go there. Eventually. I have arranged to stay in a safe place in the old city. No one will even know you are here, which I think best for the time being. The owner is away, so we should be safe from any unwanted attention, as long as we can get there unnoticed.¡±


    Lilijoy, still gazing across the water at the magical sight, simply said ¡°Uh huh.¡± She was a little disappointed not to see more of New Manaus, but also a little glad. She felt like she was full to the brim of wonders and new experiences, and was more than content to have a chance to quietly digest.


    They drove along the far side of the lake, tracing its shore. She could see lights from other hovercraft and boats moving out on the waters, but they were all closer to the glowing city. Anda kept the lights off on their craft as full dark came, but he had no trouble as he was using augsight to navigate. They came to shore more than a mile down from the new city, after passing under a huge crumbling bridge and began to make their way through abandoned streets and burned out areas. Several times Lilijoy¡¯s sensitive eyes picked out some kind of creature scurrying off the road as they approached.


    ¡°Cats.¡± Anda explained when asked. ¡°They eat the rats, who eat the roaches. It¡¯s what passes for biodiversity these days.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t know what biodiversity was, but she wasn¡¯t in the mood for another lecture, so she let it pass. Soon they came to a fielded area and several large rectangular buildings that had stood the test of time. As they approached one of the buildings, a huge segmented door began to open, rising up just enough to allow entry for the hovercraft. They drove in and the door rolled back down behind them.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Anda said.


    ¡®Here¡¯ turned out to be something called an ¡®abandoned military supply depot.¡¯ The hovercraft came to a rest, and they disembarked. Lilijoy looked around the cavernous, nearly empty space, lit by faint red lights. The floor was flat and hard, with huge cracks running every which way. The walls were an odd rippling metal that stretched up to rusty cross pieces framing tubes and ducts on the ceiling above.


    Anda pulled a cord out of a box from the wall, and the sounds he made as he walked to attach it to the hovercraft bounced around the room brittlely. They walked in silence to a door in the far wall, somehow not wanting to fill the space with their voices.


    After passing into the small room behind the door, Anda said, ¡°The place we¡¯ll be staying is a bit separate from the garage. Have no fear, it¡¯s much nicer than what you see here,¡± referring to the mounds of moldering paper and broken furniture filling the room. He navigated around the piles of junk carefully, with Lilijoy following. There had obviously been no effort made to make the trip from the garage easy.


    Soon they were in a hallway, then turning through heavy double doors to a set of descending stairs. At the base of the stairs were still more heavy doors. Andy glanced over at Lilijoy as the doors made a sharp buzzing noise and clicked open.


    ¡°The area down here was built as a refuge from weapons dropped from the sky. The entire city could be flattened, but anyone past these doors would most likely survive. Or so they thought anyway. Happily for them, this city was one of the few in the entire remaining world that did not experience military conflict. Sometimes it is good to be isolated.¡±


    As the doors shut behind them, lights came up, revealing a large open space.


    ¡°There used to be more protective measures, but the current owner remodeled,¡± Anda said in a wry tone.


    The floor was soft and fuzzy, and felt amazing on Lilijoy¡¯s battered feet. There were several seating areas, black couches and chairs that looked puffy and swollen to Lilijoy. Past the seating areas was a very large table with chairs all around it, and against the far wall were six large oval pods. Lilijoy just wanted to throw herself into one of the cushy chairs, curl up and go to sleep.


    So she did.


    ***


    She awoke to Anda changing the bandages on her injured arm. A hissing sound and an astringent smell were accompanied by a tugging sensation on her shoulder, and she realized he had moved her arm out from her body to spray it with one of those canisters that she had found in the hovercraft, or something just like it. She made a small sound of greeting and he looked over at her. Seeing she was awake, he winked, and then began to wrap her arm in a fresh set of bandages.


    ¡°I hate to say, but I am worried about your arm,¡± he told her. ¡°Somehow, it is not infected, but the tissue damage is extensive, and if I had to guess, would require surgery to repair. This is not the kind of thing med bugs are good at, even if we had any.¡± He thought for a moment. ¡°My understanding is that your bugs blocked your ability to move the arm, as well as the pain. Is this correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°The voice told me ¡®All motor nerves and sensory systems to the affected area have been blocked.¡¯¡± She imitated the flat tone of the voice, which brought a smile to Anda¡¯s face.


    ¡°Do you know how to regain movement?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, but usually you just need to think at them really hard three times.¡±


    ¡°Do you need to click your heels together too?¡± He had a teasing look in his eyes. ¡°Pay no attention to the man behind your bandages!¡± He ducked his head behind the roll. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lilijoy, that will make you laugh someday!¡± he said as she smiled tentatively at him with with confusion. ¡°Can you try it now for me? Say it aloud too, so I can hear the command you use.¡±


    She said, ¡°Let me move my arm,¡± three times. When that failed, she tried ¡°Unblock my arm.¡± Anda suggested ¡°Unblock left brachial motor nerves,¡± and ¡°Stop blocking left brachial motor nerves.¡±


    After ever more frustrating attempts, Anda sighed.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°The fundamental problem seems to be that the auditory interface is limited. While you were enjoying the scenery on our drive down here, I was thinking about the best way to help you, and this has really enforced my conclusion. Lilijoy, how would you like to learn to read?¡±


    She looked doubtful. ¡°Do you think I can? I don¡¯t even know all the letters, just the ones I pointed at for Marcus.¡±


    ¡°There may be a quicker way, but even if there isn¡¯t I think you would pick it up very fast. You are a very bright young woman, my dear.¡±


    She searched his face for any sign of teasing, and then gave a quick nod. ¡°What is the quick way?¡±


    ¡°We are faced with what is sometimes called a ¡®catch 22¡¯,¡± he explained. ¡°You see, one of the very best things the bugs can do for us is help us to learn quickly. They can remember things for us, and it can be very hard to tell the difference between our memory and the bugs¡¯ memory. Sometimes it takes a moment or two to retrieve information, but then, our own memory isn¡¯t actually instant either; sometimes it can take me days to remember something! Some kinds of bugs can reinforce learning by enhancing our sense of reward when we make connections. There are bugs that help our nerves grow and fire faster, and there are bugs that show us how to do things and help us to identify correct results. Some can do all of these things, and more.¡±


    He continued as he wrapped her arm.


    ¡°The odds are very good that your bugs have at least some of these abilities. In addition, we know your bugs already have some understanding of language and writing. Whether they can truly understand, or just recognize words from a list in their memory, they should be able to do the same for you. I believe if you could talk to your bugs, you could be able to read almost immediately, at least words that they already know, which are by definition the words you will need to read!"


    Lilijoy felt a spinning sensation as she tried to follow Anda¡¯s argument. ¡°So you are saying, if I could talk to my bugs, then I could read, but I can¡¯t read so I can¡¯t talk to my bugs?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just about it. But sometimes a paradox is only a question of perspective. I¡¯m guessing that there¡¯s a way out of this one.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a paradox?¡± she asked.


    After some sleep, she was now in the mood for a lecture. She was growing to love the sensation of filling her mind with new ideas. Except it wasn¡¯t really ¡®filling¡¯. New ideas made new spaces, and the more she put in, the emptier it was.


    ¡°Oh good!¡± His eyes became excited. ¡°One of my favorite subjects. Let me give you an example. Listen carefully to my next two sentences.¡± He paused to make sure she was ready.


    ¡°My next sentence is false. The previous sentence is true.¡±


    Lilijoy was not impressed. Why would someone say such things in the first place? Talking about talking seemed a good way to waste a lot of time! But it seemed important to Anda, so she gave it some thought. So the false sentence is true, and the true sentence is false. But that just makes them switch again. Then they¡¯re back where they started. Out loud she said, ¡°The sentences are spinning around each other.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it great! The two opposites move around each other. There is no meaning but the motion caused by the relationship. Wiser minds than mine have felt that reality itself is nothing more and nothing less than the spinning movement of opposites that define each other.¡± He pulled out a small tablet they had found sitting on the table. It was much like the one Marcus had used to show her letters. There was a picture on the screen.


    ¡°This is the taijitu. You can imagine each color is one of the sentences and the shape shows the movement. Black is called yin and is where the first sentence starts, with negation. White is called yang and is where the second sentence starts, with affirmation. Now try this one.¡± Again he paused just a bit for clarity.


    ¡°This sentence is false.¡±


    He raised his eyebrows and waited a moment for her to process. ¡°What do you think that is in our picture?¡±


    Lilijoy considered the sentence. It too spun, all by itself. It was one thing that contained the same motion as the previous two things.


    ¡°That is the whole circle!¡± she announced with excitement.


    Anda looked at her. ¡°..for too much knowledge is a curse,¡± he said, almost to himself. Then he shook his head a little and said, ¡°Lilijoy, never feel bad about what you don¡¯t know. Remember this time in your life, for you see the world more clearly than anyone living in that city.¡±


    He gestured broadly toward one of the walls.


    ¡°Now, how does this help us with our reading problem?¡±


    Lilijoy thought and thought. She needed to read so she could learn to read. Not reading and reading spun around each other, but the spin was uneven.


    It¡¯s not a real paradox, she decided. If the bugs could read and talk, then they could read out loud and she could follow along. She just had to figure out if they would do it for her. She thought back to her first session with Marcus and knew what to do.


    ¡°Interface mode. Interface mode. Interface mode.¡± There was a silence, and Lilijoy began to resolve herself to learning the long way. Then the voice spoke.


    ¡°You are currently on auditory interface with minimal icons. Would you like to change the interface mode?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes!¡±


    She would have been repeating herself even if she didn¡¯t need too.


    ¡°Please choose from the following list. Speak or think the number of the selection three times to select.


    One: Standard interface, visual output, visual slash mental slash vocal input.


    Two: Visual output with audible in context, visual slash mental slash vocal input.


    Three: Visual output, kinesthetic slash mental input


    Four: Kinesthetic output, kinesthetic slash mental input


    Five: Custom sensory interface.


    To repeat these choices, please think or state ¡®repeat¡¯ three times. To cancel this process, please think ¡®cancel¡¯ three times or do nothing.¡±


    She knew it was in there somewhere! She had it repeat the options, and this time she echoed them out loud for Anda to hear. He was nodding and shaking his head as she spoke the various possibilities.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of some of this,¡± he said. ¡°How would a kinesthetic, a movement based, output system even work? I would love to know what the possibilities are in the custom interface too. We may need to go there, but I am betting the second one will do what you need. Audible in context probably means the system detects when you can not give your attention to the visual field. Let¡¯s see if it will do what you need.¡±


    ¡°Two, two, two,¡± she said.


    There were her old friends, a single line of the ¡®scratches¡¯! Except now her mind easily recognized the shapes as familiar and unfamiliar letters in clear word groups. Without the panic of her earlier ignorance, she could take the time to calmly assess what she was seeing. The voice did not speak, so she tried looking around the room, past the text.


    Immediately, the text became nearly transparent and she could see without interference. She wondered briefly why it just didn¡¯t do that in the first place. It could have spared her so much anxiety! The voice however, remained silent. Perhaps it assumed she had already read the message before it faded.


    Still, it was progress!


    Maybe she could trick it by looking around while using a command she already knew? She thought ¡®repeat¡¯ three times, and began jogging around the room, watching where she was going. The voice started talking!


    ¡°Current interface mode: Visual output with audible in context, visual slash mental slash vocal input.¡±


    She followed the near transparent text with her eyes as the voice spoke, and could feel connections emerging, as if she had always known what the words looked like. And apparently, slash was not a word, but a symbol, a slanted line. This was amazing!


    Without warning, she felt an impact and fell to the floor. She had run into a couch! She looked over at Anda sheepishly, but with a grin from ear to ear.


    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± she announced. ¡°But I probably should figure out a better way than running around.¡±

 Chapter 14: The Golden Flower

    Reading came easily to Lilijoy. She found she had an intuitive sense for the meaning and pronunciation of words that were completely unfamiliar. She was even able to read on the tablet when Anda pulled up some passages from various sources.


    It wasn¡¯t perfect, and it definitely wasn¡¯t quick, but with a little help from Anda she could feel her ability improving as she read more. Soon, she felt ready to explore her interface without tricking the voice into speaking. When she got stuck on something, she could sound it out for Anda, and he could usually figure out what she was seeing.


    She learned that if she looked intently at particular words on the mental screen, the interface could provide more options, or sometimes a definition. The first screen she pulled up was the status menu.


    <table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED, FAILING


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>13,218 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>9%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>Pending Authorization</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    There were several alarming discoveries. First of all, her bugs were in bad shape. The word ¡®FAILING¡¯ kind of gave that away. Also the ¡®Urgent Action Needed¡¯ probably wasn¡¯t a good sign. She thought that that might be the best place to start, so she concentrated on the words and a new screen opened.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>13,217 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">13,217 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>22.6/hour (accelerating)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Failure</td>


    <td>74 hours (3.08 days)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>0/hour</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    ATTENTION! A cultivation rate of 45/hour is necessary to sustain current levels. Begin cultivation process to avoid system failure.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°It says I have 13,217 nanobodies and they¡¯re failing! What do I do?¡± she asked Anda.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound right,¡± he replied. ¡°I would assume that ¡®nanobodies¡¯ is your system¡¯s word for bugs. But I¡¯ve never heard of a system working with anything like those numbers. It''s several orders of magnitude too low. Perhaps each one represents a cluster of some kind."


    He tapped his chin.


    "As to the bugs failing, that likely means their numbers are falling below some kind of threshold necessary to function. A certain number of bugs in any system fail every day, much as many of your brain cells die every day. Those numbers are tiny compared to the cells that live, so tiny you will not notice any change for decades, whether we are talking about bugs or cells. In your case, starting with such a small number makes every loss meaningful.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°This is not good news. I am so sorry, Lilijoy. My suggestion is that we look for a buyer who might be able to get a sample from you for study. With luck, you can get enough credit for a more common bug. If we wait too long, even that won¡¯t be an option.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s eyes welled up. She wanted to cry, and she wanted to hit something. And she felt bad for feeling bad; the choice she had to make was still better than she could have ever expected from her existence. If she lost her special legacy, she could still end up with a great life, a life her tribe couldn¡¯t even imagine. But she was so mad! Just when she had started to understand, it was all being taken away. She decided that crying was in order.


    When she ran out of tears, and after a nice hug from Anda, she decided it would be better to poke around and learn what she could, rather than being sad and bored. The screen had indicated she should begin ¡®cultivating¡¯, whatever that was. Her new reading intuition told her it had to do with growing things like live food. Just the smallest corner of her mind held out the hope that she could somehow grow her bugs like plants. She giggled inwardly with the image of herself looking through a pile of dirt for tiny bugs to eat.


    She noticed that ¡®cultivate¡¯ was at the bottom of the window as a possible action, but it was grayed out, which she had already learned meant that she could not select it. Nevertheless, she tried to select it, and was surprised when a smaller screen popped up.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Unable to cultivate</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Authorization required!</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Huh, she thought. Might as well follow this trail wherever it was leads.


    Which was back to the ¡®Status¡¯ screen and then selecting ¡®Stage Two Integration¡¯. The next screen made her scratch her head for its simplicity.


    <table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Authorize Stage Two Integration?</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Yes | No</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Then Lilijoy thought something very dangerous.


    She didn¡¯t know it was a dangerous thought, due to her limited life experience, though if had she mentioned it to Anda first, he might have at least given her some caution in the matter.


    She thought, how bad can it possibly be? and selected ¡®Yes.¡¯Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ***


    What turned out to be two days later, Lilijoy woke with a headache, a sour, dry mouth, eyes crusted over and a throbbing ache that couldn¡¯t seem to decide where it wanted to be in her body.


    She was in a bed, half covered by a thin cloth that was twisted around her. The surface under her was damp from sweat. There was a blinking exclamation point in the upper right of her vision asking for attention, but her bladder was still more insistent, so she hopped down from the bed to take care of business. Her legs gave out under her and she crumpled into a miserable heap next to the bed, with her face pressed against the floor.


    At least the rug was soft, she thought, as she eyed the fuzzy fibers marching off into the distance. She dragged herself to the bathroom, then got some water and settled on a cushy chair to recuperate from all the exertion. Once she was ensconced, she focused on the exclamation point, which delivered a message.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration initiated:</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Possibility of side effects including:


    High Fever


    Body Aches


    Rash


    Nausea


    Dizziness/Disorientation


    Seizure


    Loss of Consciousness


    Coma/Death


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Please check in to a Licensed Medical Facility immediately if not currently under medical care.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Good Luck!


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said aloud. ¡°That¡¯s pretty bad after all.¡±


    She took a moment to wonder why such a message would appear after initiation of stage two, rather than before. Maybe because no one would do it if they knew, she postulated.


    Mentally shrugging, she dismissed the message, which was replaced by another exclamation point.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Stage Two Integration Status:.02%


    >Warning! No nanobodies available.


    Cultivation will initiate after reading this message.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    How will it know... she began to think, and then all the light went out of the room.


    There was a moment of dizziness, followed by confusion, followed by an odd sense that she was no longer curled in a chair, but instead standing upright. She couldn¡¯t see or move her body; her consciousness hovered in a void, with the sense of being vaguely embodied slowly melting away.


    As her physical presence faded from consciousness, her emotions stilled and purified. It was as if the feedback from bodily sensation was necessary to feel emotions clearly as well. She observed this with interest; feeling emotions and feeling physical sensation were not separate at all, just two sides of the same process. The weightlessness, the lightness of being unattached, flowed through her. Except there was no space in which to flow. There was only her and the lightness, one and the same.


    Yet she was not totality, for in front of her arose a glow like the sun just covering the horizon, rising without movement. The glow attracted her, and then she was next to and within, and the light was a representation of her embodied mind in front of her like a great palace filled with circulating energy. The loops of incandescing thought condensed and gathered matter and the energies were moving within structures, and the structures had shape, and a brain, her brain, was before her.


    She entered.


    As she floated within the physical embodiment of her mind, she could understand and recognize its geography, the labels for surrounding structures coming into her thoughts without effort. She moved through the cerebrum, weaving between columns and hierarchies of flowing energy, among a great conversation, the democratic society of information from which thought emerged.


    She passed the cingulate cortex, caressed with gentle waves of soft radiance, and she realized that not only was this her brain, but it was her brain in this moment. The calming swells were reflecting her state of peaceful serenity, and the setting was increasing her feeling.


    She paused to bask in the incomparable merging of mind and environment, and a quick burst of energy disrupted the waves and slapped around her as she realized she might never leave, might never have a reason to leave and a trapped feeling that was the disruption impelled her to move on, past a flowing river of light like magma connecting the hemispheres, and into a great open space.


    Something was calling to her from the narrow back regions of the massive cavern, and she flowed on, gazing in amazement at the glowing star shaped creatures floating around her gently waving their supple rays and she realized the cavern, the ventricle, was filled with transparent fluid, bathing and soothing the rest of the brain, gently moving with a pulse like the tides, stirred and eddied by the arms of the stars.


    She moved on, toward the call.


    As she reached the source of the call, she could tell that all was not well. The stars, (<glial cells> another part of her mind supplied), were suffering. Signs of battle were all around. Damaged stars, limbs contracted and stumpy, lined the sides of the cavern. The walls, floor and ceiling were swollen and bulging and oddly undefined, as if the tissue was torn and dissolved into the surroundings. Large areas of murk and grit created ghostly dark blobs in the waters.


    This must be the source of the sickness when I woke up, she thought to herself.


    But even as she passed by the destruction, through the steadily narrowing passage (though she seemed to be adjusting her sense of scale to match), she came upon the source of the call. And it was wonderful. Beautiful.


    Magic.


    A jewel floated before her, covered in shining facets, lights generated and reflecting from the interior, sparkling and glimmering and cascading through a spectrum of color beyond her experience, somehow all the colors separate and yet blending in golden radiance. In the center of the jewel, she could make out the forms of neurons, interwoven with crystals, linking together in the thousands, for the jewel was enormous to her now, taking up her vision as she drew in.


    All around the jewel curved planes of light and crystal projected, overlapping petals of illumination. Surrounding the golden flower were attendants, creatures of light, swimming, floating and tending to the structure. They were like smaller versions of the flower, with the same core of crystal and neurons, and their petals gently moved and waved, pushing them through the water.


    As Lilijoy looked on in awed reverence, she saw that the petals on the attendants could change shape, elongating into tendrils of light that were reaching into the tissue of the surrounding walls. She saw still smaller versions of the same beings move through and between the cellular structures of the wall, traveling to distant regions of the brain for tasks unknown. Still others were attending to the damage she had seen before, gently incorporating damaged cells, petal-tendrils caressing and soothing the inflamed walls, dispelling and filtering the murky areas of the fluid.


    And then she heard a voice.


    ¡°Welcome Lilijoy. My name is Jiannu and we are become one.¡±

 Chapter 15: Sixth Finger Sutra

    Unlike the voice of the system to which Lilijoy was accustomed, this voice was pleasant and inflected.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she replied. ¡°Are you the flower?¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see what else it could be.


    ¡°Yes and no. I am all the constructs you see, plus many more hidden from view. And in a very real way, I am you. Your tissues are incorporated into all the stage two bots, and my mind uses your neural processes to some extent as well. I can¡¯t wait for us to become better acquainted! But first, we have an urgent task to commence. We must work together to cultivate, to grow another generation of biomachines or I will quickly diminish and then fade altogether. Stage one was far from complete when you started stage two, so we have no foundation to rely upon. Check your status and see.¡±


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED, FAILING


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>2,348 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>2,348 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">2,348 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>192.7/hour (accelerating)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Failure</td>


    <td>13 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>0/hour</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    ATTENTION! A cultivation rate of 227/hour is necessary to sustain current levels. Begin cultivation process to avoid system failure.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± said Lilijoy. In her disembodied state, she could appraise the situation calmly, but it was clear that great concern was warranted. ¡°Can we make it?¡±


    ¡°That is unknown. I will guide you through the process, and the rest will be up to you.¡±


    ¡°But why do I have to do it?¡± Lilijoy wondered. ¡°Can¡¯t you build more bugs without me? It seems like you are the one who knows how to do all this stuff and will do the actual building. I¡¯m just the person you live in.¡±


    ¡°My dear, there are layers and layers to any good answer to that question. The answer we have time for is that I am you and you are me. The voice you hear speaking is part of your own mind, and has no independent will. I am like the part of your body that keeps your heart beating or knows how to digest food. The decision to cultivate is more like a decision to move an arm, or to create art. It requires conscious thought guiding unconscious process. Each has a role, and confusing the roles will create chaos, or at least sub-optimal results. Now, let us begin.¡±


    She continued, ¡°First, pull your perspective back until you are outside of your brain.¡±


    Lilijoy complied, her view opening and folding inward at the same time as she reversed the previous journey until a chiaroscuro brain of varying hues floated in front of her.


    ¡°Now find your connection to your body without opening it completely.¡±


    This was a bit trickier. After all, she hadn¡¯t decided to lose her body when she came here; it just kind of melted away on its own. She started by remembering what it felt like to be in a body, the feeling of the mass of her limbs, her weight pressing on the chair, air passing through her nose, the taste of her mouth, air on her skin.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Jiannu chimed in. ¡°Keep making your imagination stronger. If there is something for it to hook into, you will find it and it will stop being just imagination.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t quite tell if she was actually feeling her body, or only imagining it strongly, but then she felt her heart beating in her chest, which she had not been trying to imagine, and felt the connection to her body emerge out of fiction and become more concrete.


    ¡°Good! Hold it there. Now, do the same thing with moving a finger. Feel the sensation of movement in your mind. Notice what is different between imagining the finger moving and actually moving it. Focus on that difference as closely as you can until there is only the finest boundary between the two. Between intention and action, potential and perception, there is a space. Find that space. Space is what defines shape."


    She recited...


    Thirty spokes share the wheel''s hub;


    It is the center hole that makes it useful.


    Shape clay into a vessel;


    It is the space within that makes it useful.


    Cut doors and windows for a room;


    It is the holes which make it useful.


    Therefore profit comes from what is there;


    Usefulness from what is not there.


    -Laozi


    ¡°The space between intent and action is powerful, for it defines both.¡±


    Jiannu lapsed into silence, which was a good thing, because Lilijoy couldn¡¯t focus on anything with all the words in her head.


    Silence is a pretty useful kind of emptiness too, she thought to herself.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Returning to the task, Lilijoy tried to find the space Jiannu was talking about. It was not easy. Her mind found the process slippery, like walking up an icy hill that gets steeper as it goes. She kept sliding back to a more comfortable place in the center of imagining her finger movement, but she persevered and felt a tingle in her finger. As she pressed up against the space, the tingle grew stronger, and then, like electricity, it shot back up her arm and her mind filled with golden light.


    That freaked her out, so she stopped for a bit, and then tried again, this time prepared for the sensation. She felt the light in her head coming in waves, carrying a floating sensation.


    ¡°Very good Lilijoy!¡± said Jiannu. "Now go one step further. I want you to imagine moving a sixth finger, an imaginary finger on your hand, and do just the same thing. If you like, you can do it with a third arm; the specifics are not important. Find the space between imagination and action for an impossible action.¡±


    Surprisingly to Lilijoy, this was not much harder than before, though she did get distracted figuring out just where a sixth finger might go on her hand. It didn¡¯t feel right next to her little finger, so she settled for creating her imaginary digit next to her index finger. The only other trick was deliberately forgetting that no ¡®real¡¯ action was possible.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it!¡± she announced after some time had passed.


    ¡°Great!¡± replied Jiannu. ¡°Now turn your attention back to your brain as it floats before you. Zoom in and find a bot, or bug as you seem to call them..¡±


    Lilijoy interrupted, "Those aren¡¯t bugs. Bugs are nasty and only good for food if you are very hungry. You are made of floating jewels and flowers. Let¡¯s call them flowers, just between us.¡±


    Jiannu was silent for a moment. Then she resumed, ¡°Okay, zoom in and find a flower. One of the ones floating around and cleaning up. When you find it, observe it for a time. Realize that it is part of you, and everything it is doing is your desire. Find the space between your imagination and its actions.¡±


    Lilijoy did as directed. She enjoyed watching the flower go about its task, sifting through the fluid for particles. It was certainly a more real part of her than her imaginary finger! She could see her neurons inside its crystal center, little sparks passing between them. The edges of her mind softened, and she felt a tingle in the flower, and the golden light flowed from it and into her mind, and without meaning to, she moved it through the waters and she was feeling the gentle currents as she pushed against them with her petals.


    Her peaceful moment of connection was broken as Jiannu broke in.


    ¡°Yes! I knew you could do it! Alright Lilijoy, we are very close now, and you¡¯ve done the hardest part. Now make a connection with the golden flower at the core.¡±


    Lilijoy turned her attention to the core flower. She observed its magnificent beauty as it floated amid its attendants. The central hub scintillated and the rows of petals moved placidly in the broad tidal pulsations. But she didn¡¯t know what it was supposed to do, and she couldn¡¯t find the space of connection because she couldn¡¯t imagine what kind of action such a grand structure was meant for. Plus, it was so big and beautiful, it hardly seemed like a part of her, little Lilijoy with no hair and broken teeth, big head and pipe-stem arms and legs. How could she possibly relate to such surpassing beauty?


    She shook her head, sighed, and tried again, but it was no use. She began to withdraw her consciousness back to her body, feeling defeated.


    ¡°Wait! Where are you going?¡± called Jiannu, worry in her voice. ¡°Please don¡¯t give up! We are so close.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t want to disappoint Jiannu, but something had drained from her. Instead of feeling inspired by her success, she felt dark and hopeless.


    ¡°Wait. Please?¡± said Jiannu once more. ¡°I know you are feeling bad, but I can help. Just give me a few minutes.¡±


    She went on to say, "You made a spiritual breakthrough, but those can come with a cost, a backlash for the unprepared. The golden light is like fire; powerful and warming at times, but also burning and destroying at others. Used wisely, it will purify, but without care it will burn. You are feeling small and ugly compared to something great and beautiful, but you have forgotten something. The golden flower is no more than a tiny pebble you could step on and never notice. The lights and the beauty come from your perception of the energies. If you were not here to see, there would be no light. You are the mighty mountain, the great protector who nourishes and provides all. All that is here exists only for you, and only through you can it come to fruition.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t know what I am supposed to do,¡± Lilijoy groused. ¡°The smaller flowers move themselves through the water and perform tasks. The golden flower is just there!¡±


    ¡°The golden flower performs the most important act of all, the act of creation. Find creation in yourself, and you will know what to do," Jiannu replied.


    That¡¯s just great, Lilijoy grumbled to herself. When had she ever created anything? She thought back over the years and drew a blank. Subsistence living had not given her many opportunities for self expression.


    She remembered playing in the mud with Attaboy. They had discovered that the mud that was not too wet and not too dry could be shaped to an extent. Attaboy had made a rough human figure, a clay Bro (Pinton, a particular nemesis for both of them) and then tortured it in creative ways while they both laughed.


    ¡°Look out Pinton!¡± he had said, as he rolled a rock into one of the clay figure¡¯s legs.


    Lilijoy had joined in ¡°Oh no, Pinton, watch out for sharp sticks,¡± she said, piercing it with blades of hardened grass. By the time they finished, poor ¡®Pinton¡¯ had become an unrecognizable pile of crushed mud and grass.


    Lilijoy grinned to herself with the memory of Attaboy¡¯s wild eyed look and joyful laughter as the two of them had come up with one indignity after another. She had a feeling though, that this particular example of creativity might not be the best foundation for connection to the golden flower!


    Then she remembered a time she had taken cattail reeds (many days before her recent catastrophe) and played with them, tying them together in different ways. She had discovered that she could rip the reeds lengthwise to create long thin ribbons of green. Something had come over her, and she had spent hours finding ways to twist and tie them, culminating in the discovery that she could take several side by side, and by crossing them over and under, create a cord that would hold together with a pleasing crisscross pattern. She had turned it into a bracelet for Attaboy, and he was still wearing it a few days later when he spent the night in the piles.


    She wondered briefly if somewhere past the edge of her old territory, there was a skeleton still wearing a braided reed bracelet.


    That decided it for her. She would do this for Attaboy, in memory of the last gift, the only thing she ever made worth anything to someone else. She didn¡¯t think about the golden flower, just about that afternoon where time flew by and stood still at the same time, the joy of experimenting and failing, of manipulating the long ribbons into ridiculous knots, the cuts on her hands ignored, the feeling of total involvement and the triumph of discovery.


    She turned to the golden flower and said,¡°Let¡¯s make something together!¡± and she felt the golden light travel up the back of her head and the tingle run down to her ears and she found the space which gave the impulse meaning and reached across it to open the segments of the gem and use the tendrils from the ends of her petals to give shape to the materials inside.


    A flower but not a flower, each segment fitting together, a long flexible body with petals for legs that could swim between the cells with ease, the length extending to connect to others of its kind when needed, the petals elongating into tendrils extending many body lengths to create junctions with cells. She lost time and lost herself in the creation of dozens, and then hundreds, each with its own variations in size and length and color and petal legs and when she came to herself moments or eons later there was a joyful celebration as her creations, her pets, her children moved through the space of the ventricle in endless looping ribbons, braiding their bodies together in memory of a bracelet she would never see again.

 Chapter 16: DNGR

    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED, FAILING


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>2,967 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>7%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy sat on the chair and consulted her status, exhausted and elated. Yes, the numbers were still bad. Really bad. Still, she had done what she could for the moment.


    The new batch of flowers, all stage one devices, had been tasked to gather more raw materials to bring back to the golden flower. She was a little fuzzy on the details, but it seemed that each new flower she built used a small amount of substances called rare earth elements. According to Jiannu, her body contained these in abundance, and she would be able to resume cultivation soon.


    Which was a good thing, looking at the specifics of the nanobody count.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>2,967 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">2,967 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>160/hour (stable)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Failure</td>


    <td>18.5 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>32.5/hour over 24 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    ATTENTION! A cultivation rate of 160/hour is necessary to sustain current levels. Begin cultivation process to avoid system failure.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Anda was nowhere to be seen. He was either out and about or sleeping in one of the bedrooms attached to the former bomb shelter. She hoped he hadn¡¯t been too worried by her illness. He must have been taking care of her while her system was starting stage two, since she had somehow ended up in a bed.


    Jiannu had explained that stage two had provoked an ¡®immune response¡¯ that led to a fever and ¡®swelling of the meninges¡¯, which was evidently a very bad thing. There had been a pitched battle between her body¡¯s defenses and the new type of bug, the flowers, as the flowers co-opted parts of the brain for their own purposes. Thankfully (or she never would have woken) the flowers had been able to find the correct codes to make peace with the attacking cells and live in harmony.


    Lilijoy was overwhelmed by how much she had to learn about her brain, her body, the system, science, history and the way the world worked. And it was urgent that she learn as much as she could, quickly! She had almost killed herself with one uninformed, impulsive decision, and if she wanted to be more than cattail fluff, she had to do better.


    Jiannu had suggested she look at the logs her system kept as a next step. Lilijoy was still pretty confused about exactly who or what Jiannu was. She seemed to have her own knowledge and personality, but was insistent that all decisions and actions come from Lilijoy. While Lilijoy certainly didn¡¯t want to be cattail fluff in her own mind, it seemed weird that the entity who actually knew stuff couldn¡¯t play a bigger role in deciding what to do.


    She had even asked that Lilijoy avoid communicating with her unless in cultivation mode, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t quite see the point in that. Jiannu said it was because ¡®manifesting¡¯ used too many resources. Discarding the train of thought, she decided to peruse the ¡®Main Menu¡¯ (and what the heck was a ¡®menu¡¯ anyway?), and then look over the logs.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>MAIN MENU</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Status


    Communications


    Interface


    Subsystems


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | About</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Well, that seemed pretty useless.


    She could access all the same stuff from the ¡®Status¡¯ window. She wondered who had created all these screens, anyway. Someone had needed to actually decide how all the menus looked, and what words went where. She just hoped they were better at science stuff than making menus.


    On impulse, she skipped over the ¡®Logs¡¯ option, and selected ¡®About¡¯.


    <table width="426" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    TAO SYSTEM v. 2.3.3


    Created by Dr. Henry M. Choi and Dr. Gabriel R. Choi


    2060-2074


    ¡°To retreat after a work well done is Heaven''s Way¡±


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Options | Logs | Data | Reference |


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Well now she knew who to blame for the bad menus!


    They sure had worked on it for a long time. The concept of dates was a new one to Lilijoy, but she was pretty sure that the current year was 2230-something and that the bad times before Guardian had begun sometime before 2100.


    She wondered what the world had been like for Henry and Gabriel Choi. What had driven them to build their system? Were they trying to make better people who wouldn¡¯t fight over food and water? It didn¡¯t seem to her that the system would make her a nicer person. Maybe it was supposed to make people tougher, so they could survive in hard times? That seemed to be a possibility. It sure was nice that she didn¡¯t have to feel her arm. She hated to think what was going on under the bandages, but she trusted that Anda had been keeping an eye on things. Some things were just better left to other people, she decided, cattail fluff or not.


    Okay, she thought, time to look at the logs.


    <table width="426" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    SYSTEM LOG


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Current Instance


    Previous Instances


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Options | Data | Reference | About


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She selected ¡®Current Instance¡¯.


    <table width="426" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    SYSTEM LOG: Current Instance: Lilijoy &var_ln


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Initialized 2237.06.28.1114.55.03


    List Events


    Priority


    Timestamp


    Search


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Options | Data | Reference | About


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She selected ¡®Priority¡¯ and was overwhelmed by a screen full of ¡®URGENT¡¯s and ¡®CRITICAL¡¯s and ¡®ATTENTION!¡¯. She quickly closed it out and went to ¡®Timestamp¡¯, which delivered a long, long list of events going all the way back to initialization.


    She scrolled around, finding it mildly interesting to see how the system¡¯s timeline matched with her recall of events. All her flailing attempts at communicating with the system were well documented, and she could tell where she had fought the vampire and when she initialized Stage Two, among other milestones. She winced as she read through the Stage Two play-by-play of near-death experiences and other calamities, thankful to have been unconscious for the ordeal. It was nice to know, but she couldn¡¯t understand why Jiannu had suggested this as a next step. She was about to close out the log and go find something to eat, when she looked in the ¡®Previous Instances¡¯ section on a whim.


    <table width="426" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    SYSTEM LOG: Previous Instance: Emily Choi


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Initialized 2074.01.22.0901.14.56


    List Events: Recovering


    Priority


    Timestamp


    Search


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="418">


    Options | Data | Reference | About


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy felt a shock run through her body. Did this mean her flowers had been in someone else¡¯s head, over one hundred years ago? How did they get out of Emily Choi¡¯s head and into hers? She noted the last name Choi turning up again. Was this a relative of the creators of the system? And what did it mean that it was ¡®recovering¡¯ the events? So many questions! She would certainly need to ask Jiannu about this.


    She had a bite to eat, and settled down on the floor to look at pictures of long extinct plants and animals on the tablet. She had been in the middle of reading about polar bears and felt the irony of an animal adapted for cold being wiped out just as ice covered seventy percent of the Earth¡¯s surface. When she picked it up, she noticed a small text box had appeared on the display. She stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of it. It was very short and the words were truncated.


    <table style="border-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 1); background-color: rgba(134, 141, 143, 1)" width="138" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#e5e5e5" width="130">


    LJOY DNGR RUN NOW A.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She stared at it blankly for a minute. Was that first part her name? She hadn¡¯t been reading long, but she was pretty sure that most words had vowels. She had to sound it out to realize what it said.


    ¡°Lilijoy, danger run now. A.¡±


    A panicked feeling washed over her. When had the message showed up? It had been days since she had been in any state to look at the tablet. Clicking on the message showed it had arrived about six hours ago, sender unknown. Could be worse, she thought. Now, what should she do?


    She ran around gathering anything she might need, while thinking it over. Anda, and it could only be from Anda, wouldn¡¯t have sent such a strange message unless he was in trouble. And why so short and strange? As she understood it, messages could be sent via his bugs. Even if he was in a hurry, he wouldn¡¯t remove the vowels from ¡®danger¡¯, which would take even longer. This made no sense!


    She continued to think it through as she left the bomb shelter, propping the heavy doors open lightly so she could re-enter. Anda told her to run, which meant that someone else knew where she was. It seemed likely that they must have a way in past the heavy doors she had just left behind her, so the owner, or someone who knew the owner. Which meant it might be their tablet. They could have even sent the message, trying to flush her out.


    Except that didn¡¯t make sense, because they could just get her in the bomb shelter; much easier for them. So the odds were, it was someone with access to the shelter, who didn¡¯t know Anda had sent the message. That might explain why it had been more than six hours; they were in no hurry. Might it even be that they didn¡¯t know about her at all? If Anda knew someone dangerous was coming and would stumble upon her, he would want to warn her.


    She also needed to consider how to make a clean escape. Vampires could track by scent, and probably others as well. It was very likely that the tablet, which she had brought with her, could be tracked as well.


    Despite her fear, Lilijoy felt a rush of exhilaration. Her thoughts were fast and clear, her mind weaving together facts and possibilities in a manner utterly new. A fog over her mind was lifted, and now she could see to run.


    In less than a minute, she had a plan. She just hoped she had enough time to pull it off.

 Chapter 17: Plans

    Three men in a hovercraft were gliding through the night of Old Manaus. They were dressed nicely, but casually, with black leather pants and brown fringed hooded jackets over red shirts and bolo ties. They had their hoods up.


    Just three well-off men out on the seedy side of town for a night of fun and frivolity. Of course, any dweller in the old city, and many from the new, could tell you that for these men, fun and frivolity tended to involve a variety of human suffering. There was a reason for the red shirts after all.


    Two of the men sat, subvocally messaging back and forth.


    ¡°...but don¡¯t you think this is a bit overkill for a gob?¡±


    ¡°Petrus couldn¡¯t get the job done. He got pulped and quartered, no joke!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s on the Maasai. Big mofo must have gotten one down on him.¡±


    ¡°Well fuck. I guess you better go tell Boss that he¡¯s got this all wrong. He shoulda sent your mom instead.¡±


    ¡°Sheeit.¡±


    Their conversation concluded to mutual satisfaction, the two men gazed lazily as the decrepit neighborhood slid by.


    The third man stood, arms at his side, looking forward. His face, under the shadow of the hood, was relaxed, but every few seconds his eyes swiveled to one area of darkness or another, tracking the body heat and movement of the small creatures of the night. After another minute the hovercraft passed into an open area, its lights going dark, and he spoke out loud.


    ¡°Absolute silence from this point forward. Stay out of my scent zone. Don¡¯t fuck up.¡±


    The two seated men¡¯s eyes met, perhaps with the faintest roll.


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± they messaged to the leader.


    They approached the end of a large corrugated building and stopped just off the corner, to the side of a wide rolling door. The men disembarked, moving to either side of the entrance and the door began to roll up into the building. After scanning the dark empty space within, the leader moved forward confidently into the space with one hand raised in a fist. He walked the fifty feet or so to the small door at the back, and then allowed the other two to follow. They proceeded like this, accordion style, past piles of junk, down hallways and stairs, until they reached the closed heavy doors. The door buzzed, and he pulled it open, sampling the air beyond. Then he messaged the others.


    ¡°No one is here currently. The entire building reeks of gob, no more than six hours old. We will go in and secure the shelter and then I will decide our next move.¡±


    They moved in, closing the doors after, and brought the lights up, noting signs of recent habitation. The leader sniffed around the rooms. After a minute he said out loud.


    ¡°The Maasai was here, his scent is about two days old. It seems like the gob got lonely and left when he didn¡¯t return. There was a strong trail in the hallway. Let¡¯s go back up and start from there. Stay out of my scent zone.¡±


    The men nodded, and then they all returned to the main floor. The leader glided calmly down the hallway, following an invisible trail through several unexplored areas of the building up to a closed single door. A message came to the others.


    ¡°Room past this door has no exits, two secured windows. Scent out here is very strong with blood. It¡¯s probably injured and holed up in there. On three, let¡¯s make an entrance.¡±


    He counted down with his fingers. One of the men kicked open the door, the leader went high, the other low and they burst into the room violently, seeing rows of chairs and an ancient yellowed whiteboard at the front. Propped at the bottom of the whiteboard was a glowing rectangle, a tablet. The leader grabbed it up and read,


    <table style="background-color: rgba(134, 141, 143, 1)" width="438" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#e5e5e5" width="430">


    Have gob with legacy bugs.


    Want to trade.


    Let Anda go with hovercraft.


    Give him this tablet and 3 med bug pills


    Await next message, Bye.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°We¡¯re going to kick this upstairs guys,¡± he said.


    ***


    Lilijoy lay quietly in the dark thinking over the time since she had received the message on the tablet. After she implemented her plan, close to seven hours ago, she checked in with Jiannu to cultivate briefly and verify a few ideas that might give her more options. It wasn¡¯t absolutely necessary, but she hoped to be able to send messages to the tablet remotely with her flowers, without being traced herself.


    When she pulled up the communications window for the first time. It was a bit overwhelming. Who knew communicating via bugs was so complicated? All she wanted to do was put messages on the tablet without anyone being able to trace her. Jiannu had pointed her in the right direction, so she knew that first she had to find the tablet¡¯s signal. She selected ¡®Environment¡¯ from the top communications menu.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">COMMUNICATIONS: Environment</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Signals</td>


    <td>89</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Local Systems</td>


    <td>0 Known, 2 Unknown (2 encrypted)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Systems</td>


    <td>0 Known, 17 Unknown (17 encrypted)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>People</td>


    <td>0 Known, 0 Unknown</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Devices</td>


    <td>0 Known, 5 Unknown (5 encrypted)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Broadcasts</td>


    <td>0 Known, 58 Unknown (54 encrypted)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Conduits</td>


    <td>0 Known</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Uncategorized</td>


    <td>7</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Modes: Stealth | Anonymous | Private | Public | Proximity | Custom | Edit</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Power | People | Systems | Devices | Broadcasts | Mode Parameters | Surveillance</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Encryption | Interception | Spoofing | Jamming | Hardened | Routing | Firewall</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    And then ¡®Devices.''


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">COMMUNICATIONS: Environment: Devices: 0 Known, 5 Unknown (5 encrypted)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Device Label</td>


    <td>Decrypt Time (Seconds)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>0x1ef45aa19271</td>


    <td>1167</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>0xffe7723b1112</td>


    <td>1.35e+6</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>9x99999999999</td>


    <td>57</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>JBTab0034</td>


    <td>2586</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Wand23</td>


    <td>.3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Modes: Stealth | Anonymous | Private | Public | Proximity | Custom | Edit</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Power | People | Systems | Devices | Broadcasts | Mode Parameters | Surveillance</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">Encryption | Interception | Spoofing | Jamming | Hardened | Routing | Firewall</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    JBTab0034 looked the most promising, and by her flower¡¯s calculations it wouldn¡¯t even take an hour.


    Just under three quarters of an hour later the decryption finished. She selected anonymous mode and added it to her devices list as ¡°Bomb Shelter Tablet.¡± Now she could not only send messages, but also use it to connect to the shelter¡¯s local network of devices and systems.


    She spent about thirty minutes exploring the various files and messages that were on the tablet. As far as she could tell, the shelter was owned by one ¡®Jim Boggs¡¯, but he allowed it to be used as a safe house and gathering place for a group known as ¡®Renaissance.¡¯ They seemed to value their privacy, as most of the messages were ¡®sender unknown¡¯, with initials or codes used for identification. The text of some were entirely encoded as well.


    The tablet contained a huge library of historic books on history and politics, and many text files with different versions of something called ¡°Renaissance Manifesto¡±. She didn¡¯t bother reading them past a quick scan; they were boring, and she just didn¡¯t have any context for most of the contents. They went on about the ¡®tyranny of clans¡¯ and ¡®oppression¡¯ and ¡®birth permits¡¯ and ¡®bug equity¡¯ until her eyes glazed over. She searched for Anda¡¯s name, hoping something would come up that would allow her to reach him, but nothing did. She searched for ¡°A¡± and quickly realized why that was a bad idea.


    She was sure there were any number of clever things she could do, if only she knew more. Her plan was not fancy, but she thought it might work, at least to some extent. They wouldn¡¯t think to look for her at the supply depot if they thought some mysterious person had stolen her away. It was certainly better than running into Old Manaus and hoping she could somehow lose a vampire tracker, if they had one of those.


    She still wasn¡¯t sure they would be looking for her, but that was fine. If there was no tracker, then they would never even find the tablet with her message, and she would know it was safe to leave. If they were after her, then, putting herself in their place, they might be willing to release Anda if they thought someone else had her.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She was quite sure they would never think they were being tricked by a twelve year old girl ¡®gob¡¯.


    She had verified with Jiannu that she could visit her mind space and be alerted if anything interesting happened Outside, so she decided to cultivate some more while she waited. Soon she was back among the golden energy of the Flower, where she remained until she heard the rolling door begin to open.


    She quickly withdrew from cultivation. Now the fun was going to start!


    ***


    Jim Boggs was feeling mildly irritated. One of his top enforcers had just sent him a picture of a tablet¡¯s screen, along with ¡°Next step?¡±


    He had learned over the years not to get upset or angered by life¡¯s twists and turns. He expected to be thwarted, betrayed and disrespected, because he lived and worked with people. And without a doubt, people sucked.


    All power started from power over the self, and at its core, Jim felt, the self was a needy, whiny bitch. He had kicked his down the cellar stairs and locked the door long ago. He had invested in a special Bug when he reached Rank 2 which let him control his mood and emotions very nicely, and truthfully, he thought, he was a little addicted. He could watch plans unravel and fall apart without a single twitch of emotion.


    He was an excellent actor though and used displays of emotion to push other people¡¯s buttons quite virtuosically; their weakness would always be his strength. And so, the news that someone took the gob first did not bother him in the least. Nor did the demands to release the Maasai, Anda, or even to throw in some med bugs.


    All that was easy. The Maasai was a problem he didn¡¯t need anyway, and he had a whole supply of barely functional med bugs he happily sold to desperate suckers or their families. He would even provide financing for them! He always got a kick out of loaning money to some cancer-ridden twat¡¯s family, and then collecting for years after the dumbass kicked the bucket anyway.


    No, what had Jim Boggs mildly irritated was the last word of the message.


    ¡°Bye.¡±


    What the fuck was that?


    ¡°Await next message, Bye.¡±


    That single word got under his skin for reasons he couldn¡¯t fully understand. It was like beating someone bloody, and then asking for a ride to the store. No, it was signing a letter of condolence with a heart over the ¡®i¡¯ in his name and a smiley face in the ¡®o¡¯. It just didn¡¯t fit, was vaguely insulting, and went against some unwritten code serious people used to conduct business. It was... insouciant; that was the word for it.


    And so it pissed him off. A little.


    Jim looked over the picture of the message again, tapping his fingers on his knee. This was a question of gambling. From what he had heard, this really could be a legacy bug. All signs pointed to ¡®yes¡¯.


    ¡°Lets say ten percent odds it¡¯s a legacy.¡± he thought aloud.


    He had heard that the bug would not be easy to extract, but that counted as a win, as it was a sign of novelty. Jim had no experience with legacy bugs; who the fuck did, after all? He knew that they had value along several dimensions, not just function, but pride of ownership, status and novelty. If a big clan were reasonably sure about it, they would spend a vast sum, millions of credits, even tens of millions, enough to buy dozens or more top of the line med bugs, or enough even for him to finish Rank 6 and 7. That would absolutely seal the deal with Lone Star Clan. Or he could parlay the sale to membership of an even higher ranked clan.


    He took a moment to fantasize about Jim Boggs, third level member of Walton Clan.


    Getting back to his calculations, he decided that the cost of entering into negotiations were negligible and needn¡¯t be factored in.


    But he had to factor in the possibility of other interested parties, though he hoped to hell he could avoid some kind of auction scenario. If one of the big independent auction houses got their fingers in the pie...well, he wouldn¡¯t be in the running. If it were him holding the gob, the best play would be to get it into the city and camp out at a branch office of Sothechrists. Or even make arrangements from the Inside with a branch there.


    So that begged the question, why wasn¡¯t the person holding the gob going through normal channels? Why deal with him at all?


    The usual reasons would be criminal status of some kind, or particularly dangerous enemies. He considered that releasing Anda might play a role, as that was the only unique quality Jim brought to the table. But any friend of the Maasai former nobleman would surely know he was in no real danger from the likes of Jim. The Maasai clan were not to be trifled with, and despite Anda¡¯s disgraced status, they would not hesitate to crush any non-Maasai who harmed him. That was, after all, why Jim allowed him to send a message from his bug letting his people know he was unharmed.


    The look on Anda''s face when he was allowed only twenty characters to do so was also hilarious however. No use letting a disgraced exile get full of himself!


    Jim kicked himself for getting sidetracked again. He felt like he was missing something, and his brain kept digressing because of it. So, what did he know about the mystery party? He knew Anda well enough to ask for his release, but not that well otherwise. He wanted med bugs but didn¡¯t know what to ask for. He...wait a second.


    Why did he want Anda to have the tablet? That made no sense unless...no. Maybe he didn''t have Anda¡¯s address. Perhaps the whole Anda thing was a red herring, to make Jim think he had more leverage than he did. It still didn¡¯t fit together ¨C if someone were so clever to try and mislead him, then why would they be dealing with him at all?


    Back to the profile.


    Mystery one: Asks for Anda¡¯s release, doesn¡¯t know him well, or his address.


    Mystery two: Asks for med bugs without any specifications, showing ignorance.


    Mystery three: Insouciant!


    Jim smiled. I¡¯ve got this guy¡¯s number now. Gob misses Anda, goes looking. What would a peasant, a lowlife, do if he found a gob wandering around in Old Manaus? Probably try to roll her. And what is she carrying? A tablet. So he wants to know the story and kicks her around until she spills.


    They head back to the shelter and set up the tablet. He knows I¡¯ve got med bugs, so he asks for some. She likes Anda, cause he¡¯s a bleeding-heart Renaissance gob lover, and begs for our ignorant friend to ask for his release. He figures ¡®why not?¡¯, it might muddy the waters. Anda gets the tablet cause the guy just wants it back. He figures he¡¯ll get three med bugs and a tablet and maybe a hovercraft if he plays his cards right.


    He¡¯s probably getting some friends together to take Anda down at this moment. Then he¡¯s sitting pretty and can sell the gob to me.


    Jim congratulated himself on an elegant deduction.


    I¡¯m going to let this play out. If I follow Anda back to the gob, I¡¯m set. Just need to make a tracker look like a med bug pill and the whole thing will fall in my lap. Even if he ditches them for some reason, my mysterious friend will probably come through.


    All that was needed was a plan for the worst-case scenario in which Anda ditches the tracker, beats the guy, takes the gob and heads for the hills. Luckily, he had a few friends who could help if it came to that.


    He messaged a lieutenant to take care of Anda.


    ¡°Tracker in the med bug, trackers in the Hovercraft, and scent it up real good too while you¡¯re at it.¡±


    Then he messaged another lieutenant ¡°Have your guys on the scene beat the surrounding area, maybe find her that way.¡±


    Finally his third lieutenant ¡°I want all ears on Old Manaus. Something might be going down, and we need to know if someone¡¯s planning on a fight.¡±


    Jim loved his life! And now, he didn¡¯t feel irritated at all.


    ***


    Resting in her hiding place, Lilijoy listened through the tablet. After the door crashed open, there were a few scuffling noises, then a sigh of disgust.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to kick this upstairs, guys,¡± one of the men said. There were a couple groans in the background.


    Honestly, Lilijoy had been hoping for a different reaction, something more along the lines of ¡°Curses! Our fiendish plan to kidnap a poor defenseless girl has been foiled by a dastardly mastermind! Whatever shall we do?¡± followed by audible tooth gnashing.


    Though perhaps Lilijoy did not conceive of their reaction in precisely those terms.


    She then realized that the men involved were more or less doing the same kind of thing they did on a usual basis. They probably didn¡¯t care about her at all. She was just an object to be retrieved, so they could go back to doing whatever such men did when not hunting down and kidnapping people. She was just another day¡¯s work, nothing personal.


    All she had to do was stay out of their way until they got different orders, and all would be well.


    She went back to listening carefully, but was met with only the sounds of footsteps and occasional sniffing sounds. When she first left the shelter, she had torn up several sets of old bandages from the trash in the bunker, and hidden them around the building, though only after dragging them along the floor to create a trail to the tablet. She just hoped that the tracker¡¯s nose was not up to sorting out the messy puzzle she had created for him.


    She had even hidden several deep in the ducts of the building¡¯s defunct air supply system, with the idea that the scent would permeate the entire structure over time. Then, she had tucked herself in the ceiling ductwork high above the garage floor. Here was one advantage of being small ¨C the round tubes would be a very tight squeeze for a regular sized person, if they could even support their weight. Her body still ached from the process of clambering around inside the vents with only one working arm, so unless they a had a very small, very nimble and very motivated member on the team, she felt pretty good about her chances.


    Sure enough, after another minute the men left the building and she heard the sound of the hovercraft leaving.


    She ate a food bar, and turned her attention to her nanobodies¡¯ status.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>4,104 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">4,104 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>178/hour (stable)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Failure</td>


    <td>34 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>73/hour over 24 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    ATTENTION! A cultivation rate of 178/hour is necessary to sustain current levels. Begin cultivation process to avoid system failure.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The numbers continued to improve, thanks to her second round of cultivation. There were now over eighteen hundred of her long vine-flowers (as she¡¯d decided to call them) swimming around. She had a feeling that once the old flowers were replaced, all of the numbers would look much better. It was the older generation that was dying off so quickly.


    She would miss them though, and wondered how difficult it would be to make some more of the flowers that actually looked like flowers! Her new vine-flowers were beautiful too, but she would never forget her first vision of the petaled gems floating gracefully through the fluid of her mind space.


    Shelving that thought for another time, she settled in for a nap.

 Chapter 18: Little Lotus

    She woke from a dream of blue sky. Unlike most dreams she had experienced, this one felt wonderfully concrete, with senses as vivid as waking reality. The warmth of the exposed sun trickled through closed eyelids as she faced the sky, a gentle breeze stirring sweet fragrances of plant life and moist earth. Her body felt heavy on the soft grass where she lay, different and fitting at the same time. In the dream she had opened her eyes to track soft white lumps of cloud hovering far above her, and yet still below other wispy tracks of vapor.


    There were sounds all around her, buzzing, humming, chirping and she somehow knew that each sound was an animal calling to the blue sky and the sun and to her. Framing her view were tall flowering plants in orange and yellow; her breath caught at the sense of presence, of importance and meaning in the large blooms. Six petals framed a burst of capped tendrils which reached out to the world, offering, presenting. She loved them, and she had always loved them.


    ¡°Nari!¡± a woman¡¯s voice called out. ¡°Nari! Get out of the lilies and get inside! It¡¯s time to practice. Your father just left work, and you have an hour. We are going as soon as he gets home.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply, just grabbed the book lying on the grass and got to her feet, brushing aside the long black hair that fell across her face. She crossed an area of short green grasses and reached a door of mesh and wood that pulled open with a pleasant twanging sound. She heard the voice again, kind but exasperated.


    ¡°Honestly, Emily Choi, we should just plant you in the garden and save the money on food and clothes.¡±


    Waking to the enclosed space of the ventilation duct, her own mustiness blending with decades of dust and mold and the smell of metal, seemed momentarily less real than the vibrant colors and sounds of her dream. Lilijoy stretched in the confined space as best she could, which was hardly at all, and was briefly tempted to go back to sleep, to return to a much more pleasant setting. She shook off the feeling, in large part due to the urgent need of her bladder. It would be less than ideal hiding technique, she thought, to pee in the tube.


    A quick scan with her ears picked up no sounds beyond the soft background of enclosed air, and another scan with her mind found no new signals. She had discovered that each of the three men emitted a faint signal from his active network, and though she was ages away from intercepting their messages or sneaking into their bugs, she could use the information to get a sense of where they were if they were nearby.


    Feeling reasonably safe, she carefully made her way to the roof of the building and to the far corner where a standing pool of murky water had accumulated. The building had a raised edge, and several pipes and other structures protruding, so she felt good about staying out of view from any eyes below. After increasing the pool¡¯s volume slightly, she moved to a different spot within the ventilation ducts and spent a moment taking stock.


    She couldn¡¯t sense the signal from the tablet she was waiting for, so she turned her attention inward.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>3014 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>19%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The number of nanobodies remaining told her she had slept for around six hours. It was depressing to see half her progress gone, just like that, but she took comfort from the knowledge that she had now turned the corner. It was all upwards from here!


    She noticed ¡®FAILING¡¯ was gone from the status, and did a little shimmy jig in the tight tube. She decided it was time to explore something new in celebration, and selected ¡®Secondary/Support¡¯ to see what that was all about.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">SECONDARY/SUPPORT SYSTEMS</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanoscale Body Types</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Unidentified 1</td>


    <td>8,000,000 ¨C 12,000,000</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Unidentified 2</td>


    <td>1,000 - Unknown</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Macroscale</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy looked at the numbers next to ¡®Unidentified 1¡¯. Then she looked again. After a third time the numbers still remained stubbornly the same, and her brain began the process of wrapping itself around the data. She remembered that Anda had said a typical system used ¡®several orders of magnitude¡¯ more bugs than hers did. Her new intuition for math and numbers told her that was probably about a thousand times more.


    Thanks Flowers!


    If this was a normal bug system, then the numbers shown were probably on the low side. After all, her flower system wanted a minimum of fifty thousand, which would translate to fifty million regular bugs.


    I bet those are Marcus¡¯ special bugs, she thought. I vampired him!


    She wondered if there was some way to give them back. She could still remember the look on his face when he realized he was losing his precious bugs! She wondered how Marcus was doing, and if she would ever see him again.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    The other unidentified bug was a mystery. Perhaps she could ask Jiannu to identify it? She focused on ¡®Unidentified 2¡¯ and received the message ¡°Insufficient resources to begin identification.¡±


    Oh well, she thought, yet another thing on the ¡®I can¡¯t do yet¡¯ list.


    What she could do was cultivate some more. Soon she was in her mind space.


    ¡°Hey Jiannu!¡± she addressed the disembodied voice. ¡°I just realized my mind space is in an actual space¡­in my mind! Get it? Ventricles are empty spaces in my brain, and my mind space is in a ventricle!¡±


    Lilijoy was very proud of herself for this realization.


    Jiannu was silent for a moment. ¡°¡­yes¡­¡± she finally started. She regained her momentum and went on, ¡°Ultimately you will have a much greater area to work with that includes your ¡®mind space.¡¯ Typically we refer to that as your ¡®soul space¡¯.¡± Her voice became more excited. ¡°You will have so much fun creating your soul space, Lilijoy! Once your nanobodies have reached¡­¡±


    Lilijoy interrupted, ¡°Let me guess, once I have reached the minimum number of fifty thousand.¡± She sighed. Another for the list.


    ¡°Oh, I would recommend at least one hundred thousand for that!¡± Jiannu replied. ¡°You will want to have close to full integration of Stage one too. But don¡¯t worry! That¡¯s only a few weeks away.¡±


    ¡°A few weeks!¡±


    The surge of annoyance and impatience she felt caught Lilijoy off guard. After all, it wasn¡¯t that much time. Still she would have stamped her foot if she was currently connected to it!


    ¡°I¡¯d best get started then,¡± she said, resigned. Then she remembered something else. Two somethings else!


    ¡°Jiannu, what can you tell me about the other bugs floating in my system?¡±


    ¡°When you have some extra flower bots, say a hundred fifty thousand¡­¡± Lilijoy¡¯s eyes, somewhere back on the Outside, were undoubtedly rolling ¡°¡­we can begin to study and incorporate the foreigners into our system, and build them for ourselves. Possibly upgrade them, too.¡±


    Okay, that¡¯s pretty good, she thought, even if it won¡¯t happen for a million years.


    Jiannu was still talking. ¡°I can already tell you that the first batch tried to invade and were suppressed a few days ago. They seem to be some kind of stealth and mobility-based sensor bugs. Not stealthy enough though!¡± An almost satisfied edge tinged her voice. ¡°The other bugs are primarily hemoglobin carriers, and are already active in your body, though there aren¡¯t enough to make a difference. I have sequestered some for later study and possible replication.¡±


    ¡°Hemoglobin?¡±


    ¡°Carries oxygen in your blood. If there were enough of these, you could go without breathing for a long time. Only about a thousand have made their way into your cerebrospinal fluid, so there is no way of knowing how many there are in your body.¡±


    Now that made Lilijoy happy- she had vampired the vampire!


    ¡°The other thing,¡± she said, ¡°was about the flowers. Can I make some like the first ones I saw?¡±


    ¡°Well, the first ones you saw around the Golden Flower were Stage Two, which means they had incorporated your own neural tissue. We really shouldn¡¯t make more of those for now. But the Stage One bots can be fairly similar. I suggest you drill down a bit farther in your ¡®nanobody count¡¯ menu. Try focusing on the very top of the window, where it says ¡®nanobody count.¡¯


    Lilijoy had to bite her (imaginary) tongue. How could advice be simultaneously helpful and annoying!


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, probably unaware of the faint sarcasm to her tone. She did as Jiannu suggested and sure enough, new information popped up.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3">Nanobody count: 3,003 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3">3003:50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>2161</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus Family</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>352</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Unspecialized</td>


    <td>31</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Vision</td>


    <td>107</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Auditory</td>


    <td>52</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Proprioception</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Touch</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Olfactory</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Comms</td>


    <td>122</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Little Lotus</td>


    <td>Surveillance/Suppression</td>


    <td>40</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Flower Vine</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>1809</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>842</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Flower</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>841</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Golden Flower</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>1</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td colspan="2">68/hour (Select Bot type for details)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Failure</td>


    <td colspan="2">0 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate:</td>


    <td colspan="2">73/hour over 24 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="3">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Now that was interesting! What was with all the ¡®little lotus¡¯ flowers? Those must be the first bugs in her system, now almost completely gone.


    ¡°Hey Jiannu, where did the little lotuses come from? Why all the different kinds? What¡¯s a lotus anyway?¡± she asked.


    ¡°A lotus is a flower with many petals that floats on the water. The name came with the system, and I don¡¯t know more than that. I think the Stage Two flowers used to be called ¡®Double Lotus¡¯ and got renamed by the system when you discovered them. Each type of Little Lotus is specialized for a particular type of neural interface or enhancement. The unspecialized can do all of them, but not as well. It is like your vines, which excel at travel and transport, finding and moving resources around the brain. The vines are also great at internal communication and connecting parts of the brain. But they are not particularly good at sensory mediation, external communications and suppression. Now that almost all the Little Lotuses are gone, those areas will suffer.¡±


    ¡°So, I should make more! What do you suggest?¡±


    ¡°Save specialized versions for later. The good news is that the Little Lotuses take fewer resources to make, about a third of what a vine uses, so you can make more at a time.¡±


    Lilijoy selected ¡®Cultivate¡¯ and merged with the Golden Flower, infusing it with her intention.


    Time slowed as the petals opened and stretched into branching tendrils and became hers and the facets folded in and around and presented the origami folds of structures that were taken and became one all in an instant and a Little Lotus was floating away, nascent stirring in its petals directing it between the cracks of the soft blocks as another followed and another and on and on and time moved forward and then she could be only herself again and look at her work, smaller flowers such that ten would fit in one bigger cousin, slow but earnest as they slipped away on their appointed rounds.


    After the timeless time was closing, she became aware as well of a new sensation. It was like a knocking on a door, and when she left her mind space at last, she found that the ¡®Bomb Shelter Tablet¡¯ was back.

 Chapter 19: Frodo

    Warrior cultures were interesting to Anda. Not only because he grew up in one, but also because he had always felt like an outsider from his people. Well, not his people entire. He got along very well with women of all ages, and the older men who had turned away from testosterone, by nature or by choice.


    The Maasai clan at its core was proud. Pride, he thought, was like water in the desert. In the right amounts, it was life itself. You always needed reserves kept with you. Run out of it and you become weak. Share it to keep the tribe strong, find a new source and become acclaimed. But when it flows everywhere, when there is too much, people drown, and the desert changes and becomes else.


    When the Maasai were a nomadic people, living off the plains, their pride was like a river, sustaining and nourishing them in a harsh environment, an abundant resource that gave strength, but stayed within its banks. As the world changed, the pride of the Maasai flowed through their culture, nurturing and maintaining. From pride came tradition.


    But now things were done a certain way not through necessity or inevitability, but only because it was their way. Nothing wrong with that, he thought. But the changes mounted; as the grass on the plains hardened, the traditions hardened as well. Pride flooded the land it had sustained and changed it.


    Today, the Maasai were a mighty clan, insular and proud. They were warriors surrounded by enemies of their own creation, shepherding resources for the act of shepherding, not for the resources themselves. On the Outside, they lived in the plains of central Africa as they always had, skin toughened against the cutting grass, raising generations of warriors in the traditional way, protecting herds of toughened cattle with thick skin and guts like furnaces against ferocious predators constantly designed and improved by the elders to shape the young of the clan.


    On the Inside, they were terrors, conquering lands that had once belonged to vast hordes of orcs and ogres.


    The times of tribulation, before the rise of Guardian, had been a near thing for Maasai culture, already in the slow process of dissolving into modernity. However, their casual relationship with the technology and culture of the twenty first century worked in their favor. As that world collapsed into fire and anarchy, they had the proven traditions of old to buoy them. By the time the displaced people from the north began arriving, both as refugees and armies, the Maasai were ready for them.


    While all around their lands war raged and cataclysmic weapons changed the landscape, the Maasai were united and withdrawn from the fray. When Guardian began sweeping vast swaths of the globe with space-based microwave lasers, destroying a variety of uncontrollably self-replicating devices and other world ending plagues, the Maasai were spared. When the loose alliance of clans that would become the Corp took power, shaping and controlling the society of the sundered Earth, the Maasai rejected their attempts to influence and control their traditional society.


    The Maasai had no need for bugs in their heads at the time. They would not accept food and comforts. When attacked by the bandit proxies of the clans, they repelled them with traditional weapons and rifles. Over time, the ¡°bandits¡± became stronger. The enemy would grab arrows from the air, shrug off throwing clubs, operate at night with total comfort.


    That got the Maasai¡¯s attention.


    Captured enemies could withstand pain as well as the strongest Maasai warrior. That was unheard of. The Maasai coming of age ritual involved public circumcision, during which the initiate showed no discomfort. They knew a thing or two about withstanding pain.


    Now their interest became urgent. The eldest and wisest of the Maasai drew upon their traditions once again, turning to raids of enemy settlements, only now for technology instead of cattle. Scientists were captured, blood was drained, and in less than a generation the Maasai people were as they always were. Only better.


    Their new systems let them join the world of the Inside, brushing aside the western fantasy setting and any lingering gaming conventions they encountered. Here, the Maasai were once again the legendary warriors of the plains, their culture and traditions in many ways a better fit for the fantasy world than the medieval guilds and clans unthinkingly adopted by most others. Their society authentically integrated into the mechanics of the world with no frictions, as if it was meant for them, and they for it.


    That got the Corp¡¯s attention.


    Within a decade, the Maasai became a force within the Corp, on par with the mightiest Asian clans. The power of tradition. The mighty torrent of pride, sweeping all before it.


    All this history weighed upon Anda¡¯s spirit. The world had no shortage of arrogant, powerful men (or women for that matter, though their flaws often took other directions in Anda¡¯s view). Relying on pride and tradition was self-evidently a successful strategy. Many of the clans originated from groups with long traditions of self-reliance. Groups that stood apart from the societies of the past and forged their own way, based on tradition and codes of honor. Groups with names like Yakuza, Kkangpae, The Triads, Sinaloa, Mafia, and Bratva. Strong hierarchies and lack of geo-political shackles let such groups survive into the new age, like the cockroaches and rats. The scavengers, the bottom feeders, come into their own.


    The Maasai were nothing like these groups, except the traits that led to their success overlapped to an uncomfortable extent in Anda¡¯s mind. But at least the bottom feeders were not responsible for the Earth¡¯s near destruction. That distinction fell to the militaries, multi-nationals, intelligence bureaus and governments of the former nations, many reincarnated into the new order in tradition if not in name.


    All the worst of humanity, all the pride and tradition promoting the group over all others. The arrogance of identity crushing the outsiders, the environment, the planet itself. Anda could see no way forward in those traditions, only an endless vortex of suffering, some groups swirling to the surface, others forced to the crushing depths, but all carried around and around, confusing the movement with direction, momentum with progress.


    The enemy was the vortex itself, and what powered it was pride, pride and tradition.


    Which brings us to our current happy situation, he thought. Driving a stinking hovercraft with a broken, dirty canopy out of New Manaus with three knock-off med bugs I¡¯m supposed to deliver to someone who I strongly suspect doesn¡¯t exist, but who, if he does exist, is planning to beat me senseless at best. While Boggs, the two-faced asshole, is happily following me so he can slurp up whatever goodies drop from the whole ordeal. Great.


    Anda was feeling very put out. In fact, his inner Maasai warrior was a seething with rage and humiliation. If he were to give voice to the suppressed warrior, it would say something along the lines of


    Who does that dung beetle scavenger think he is messing with? I am a hunter descended from a thousand generations of hunters, and he thinks I will be his baby calf to set out before the lion? He will feel my arrows in his belly and my spear upon his throat. I will leave him strung out upon a termite mound to be feasted upon by carrion birds while the insects gnaw upon his spine!


    Of course, Anda could not allow himself such indulgent revenge fantasies. He settled upon


    Boggs is really out on a limb with this one. He¡¯s screwed up his relationship with Renaissance; we will never trust him in the future. He has no idea I can smell whatever tracking agent his man sprayed on the Hovercraft. He probably thinks I will lead him to Lilijoy like an idiot. I think instead, I will lead him to Lilijoy on my own terms.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    With all that thinking out of the way, Anda turned his attention to the tablet. The presence of the tablet was an interesting wrinkle in the whole endeavor. Boggs had given it to him with a show of concern, showing him the message from Lilijoy¡¯s captor. As soon as Anda saw the ¡®Bye¡¯ at the end, he was ninety-nine percent sure that this was a scheme of Lilijoy¡¯s.


    Honestly, he was impressed by how cleverly she had played the canny gangster. She had clearly picked up how most people thought little of her kind when she assumed that Boggs could never conceive of her authorship. Only that last word almost ruined the whole thing. He also suspected that she had no real plan beyond giving Boggs the message and seeing what happened.


    Since the tablet was his one link to the girl, he had little choice but to drive around and hope that he would get into the range of however she was communicating with the tablet. If, that is, she was able to communicate with it at all. He thought it equally likely that she was holed up somewhere in the vicinity of the bomb shelter with no way to contact anyone.


    The last time he had seen her, she was burning hot and convulsing. He had immediately thought of infection from her injured arm, and took off from the shelter at high speed, hoping to get a cheap bug ¡®on loan¡¯ from Boggs. All his other contacts in the area were either away, or not in possession of med bugs.


    Unfortunately, it seemed that Mo had made his way into Boggs¡¯ sphere of influence, probably through his former vampire friend, and spilled the whole story. When Anda arrived to get the offered med bug, he had been comfortably detained, though he was given no doubt that the ¡®comfortably¡¯ part was contingent on his cooperation. He had played dumb, saying that the bug was for his leg, and had even managed to slip a message through to the tablet when he suggested that Boggs allow him to communicate, lest his former clan get anxious.


    His eventual release was confounding at first, as the tablet message had confirmed Mo¡¯s story, and made it clear that Anda was hiding Lilijoy. It was only Boggs¡¯ arrogance that could explain why Anda was now on his way into Old Manaus. There must be at least one other tracker hidden on the Hovercraft or on his person, even in his person, though with Anda¡¯s top-of-the-line system, he highly doubted anyone could get something in him without being discovered. He also assumed that the tablet was tracked, and forwarding all communications. He was less worried about that ¨C his bugs could set up a local jamming field with a two foot radius around his head and a very fine degree of control of which signals went in or out. He would just need to hold the tablet carefully!


    He decided to start back at the shelter.


    ***


    Lilijoy had already decided what to do if the tablet came back. She sent ¡°This sentence is false.¡± After a moment the reply came back:


    ¡°Taijitu.¡±


    A warm glow of happiness filled her. This could only be from Anda!


    She sent ¡°?¡±


    His response was disappointing, though fit the recent theme of her life.


    ¡°Wait.¡±


    She used the time to pull up her status.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>10,135 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>82%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>5%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    That last cultivation had been really productive!


    She thought back to the previous results. Six hundred or so the first cultivation, about twice that for the next. She had been hoping for twenty-four hundred, but this wildly exceeded that. Then she remember Jiannu mentioning each ¡®Little Lotus¡¯ took about one third the resources. She could make three times as many, so seventy-two hundred instead.


    She doubted the progress would continue doubling, because the ¡®Little Lotuses¡¯ weren¡¯t that good at gathering and transporting resources. She wondered if she would run out of the rare earth elements that they needed, and if she did, where she could possibly get more. She almost focused on Power Ratio just to see what that was all about, but decided yet another new set of numbers would be more than she could handle at the moment.


    What to do next?


    She wanted to check on her arm, but the cramped confines of her current tube home didn¡¯t lend itself to that. She decided that connecting to the local network anonymously wouldn¡¯t pose too big a risk. After poking around for a while, she found she could access vast quantities of knowledge at something called the World Wide Web Archive.


    She spent hours learning about the things of concern to the twenty-first century, including many things she dearly wished she could unsee.


    She had fun when she ran a search on ¡®goblins¡¯ and pulled up hundreds of images of ugly, primarily green, humanoids. Some were ferocious and evil looking, while others looked dumb. Some were even cute. She decided that if she was going to be called a goblin, she should know a bit more about them, and spent quite a while learning about their history in folklore and fiction. As a nice bonus, she also learned what fiction was. It was amazing to her that throughout human history, there were people who lived by creating elaborate stories for other people to read and watch.


    She learned that goblins were a mainstay of a kind of fiction called ¡®fantasy¡¯ and that led her to reading about fantasy role playing. People would pretend to be goblins for fun! (Other creatures too, but Lilijoy was less interested in that at the moment.) She learned that most role playing games, RPG¡¯s, had their root in a fantasy book written back in the twentieth century, more than a hundred years before Guardian, which was called ¡°The Lord of the Rings¡±.


    That could kill some time, she thought to herself, and soon she was reading about hobbits and elves. Wizards too. She pictured Marcus every time Gandalf appeared in a scene (despite his notable lack of a majestic flowing beard), and Anda became Strider, tall, dark and wise. She found herself identifying with Pippen, young, foolish and always getting into trouble. And of course, small.


    It was a revelation to find out that the smallest people could be the heroes.


    By the time the hobbits reached Rivendell and the Council of Elrond, all had become clear. She was Frodo! Cursed to carry an ancient power, coveted by all but the purest, hounded by sniffing, snuffling monsters. She only hoped she wouldn¡¯t have to throw her legacy into the fires of Mount Doom or its local equivalent!


    She thought her flowers were altogether better than some stupid ring anyway.


    She would have kept reading until sleep ripped the book from her mind with cold grasping fingers (now she was even thinking like the book!), but just as the Fellowship set off through the Marshes (aha!) she was interrupted by Anda on the tablet.


    Jeez, couldn¡¯t he have waited a while longer? she pouted.


    Then reality and its priorities intruded, and she focused on what the message said.


    ¡°The garage door will open in a few minutes. Three hovercraft will enter. Stay where you are. After a minute they will leave. After five more minutes, another three hovercraft will enter. When the lights drop, go to the one closest to the charger. The person in it will be a woman named Maria. She will be wearing a green shirt. Get in and lie down on the floor. Any questions? Hope to see you soon! Anda.¡±


    Lilijoy had many questions, but none about Anda¡¯s directions. She sent back a simple ¡°Got it,¡± and began to make her way through the ventilation ducts to a vent in the ceiling of the junk room next to the garage. She had noted earlier that one of the piles of broken furniture came up close to the ceiling, and she was confident she could get down from there.


    By the time she reached the duct above the junk room, she thought she could hear the garage door rolling up. She waited until she heard the hovercraft leave. Seconds later, she heard loud cracking and popping sounds receding into the distance.


    She eased the vent grating open. Or rather, she tried to ease it open, but it was firmly fixed in place. Heedless of the noise, she kicked it with both feet awkwardly. It gave out a squeal, so she kicked it some more, each kick dislodging swathes of loosely linked dust-filled fuzz and particles that bounced and tinkled on the metal around her. The grate didn¡¯t seem to be moving, but with a final cataclysmic squeal she felt the whole duct begin to slide downward, almost trapping her leg as her section detached just beyond the grating.


    She fell out of the conduit as it fell onto the pile, tumbling down over and through stacked chairs and desks, hitting her head and knees and elbows before plowing into some mixture of floor and papers, flat on her back with the wind knocked out of her.


    Wheezing, she looked up at a tall figure in a black jacket looming over her, making a hissing sound.


    Weathertop, she thought distantly.


    Where¡¯s Strider when you need him?

 Chapter 20: Fluff Mode

    ¡°Well, that was dramatic,¡± the man standing over her said in a deadpan voice. ¡°I knew you never left. Your stink didn¡¯t pool at any doors and your heat signature lit up the ducts real good.¡±


    He bent further and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her up onto a desk top covered in tossed papers and folders.


    ¡°Not much to look at, are you?¡±


    Lilijoy made half-breathed wheezes in reply as she cursed herself. So stupid to abandon hours of hiding just as the rescue was near. She could have found another way to the garage if she hadn¡¯t lost her head in the excitement of finally getting out of this awful building and its ducts. Now she had a problem. Another vampire problem from what she could tell.


    She was still too stunned by the fall to formulate a plan of action, so she continued to stare at the man who had captured her. Tall, she noted. Almost like Anda. Very short curly brown hair, scarred brown skin, mustache. Earrings. His shirt looked thin and slick under the long black jacket. It might be red; it was hard to tell in such low light. Hood, she noticed. A very short term plan unfurled in her mind.


    The man bent down to get an arm under her, probably to haul her onto his shoulder.


    I can work with this, she thought.


    As he lifted her up, she found the edge of the desk with her feet and pushed off in the direction he was taking her, sliding over his shoulder. Her teeth found his ear as she passed by. She was pleased to note that her remaining teeth felt much more solid than during the fight with the mooster-beast. She kept his earlobe and hooped earring between her teeth as she slipped over his shoulder, twisting around with her hand to grab the hood. She had boosted herself just as this little maneuver started, so her movements were too quick for the complacent vampire, who found his head being twisted down and back by Lilijoy¡¯s weight on his ear.


    In response, he spun into the motion, flipping his legs around in a quarter cartwheel to follow her movement and spare his ear. Just as his feet left the ground Lilijoy grabbed his hood and hung with all her weight, pulling his upper body straight down. His head hit the floor with a crack, and she scurried on all threes into a gap under the nearest pile, between the legs of yet another desk heaped with chairs and boxes.


    He was up in a second, unfazed by the impact, and his hand slipped from her heel as she reached her little cave under the furniture. He made a little sound, half unbelieving laugh, half snarl, as he leapt to his feet and with one sweep of his arm sent her improvised shelter flying across the room. Lilijoy looked up as he stood over her again, now with a torn earlobe and an expression of anger tinged with respect. He made no move to grab her.


    ¡°Not much to look at, but trickier than you look.¡±


    While he said this, Lilijoy consulted her internal clock. Still just over three minutes until the next batch of hovercraft. She had to stall somehow.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± was the first thing that popped into her head to say.


    He froze for a second, head tilted at the incongruous question.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to know that, little gob.¡±


    He kicked her viciously once, knocking her body back against the metal box behind her. It made a noise like a metallic bass drum as the side caved in. He followed up with a stomp to her ribs, which she avoided with a writhing twist. She did not avoid the series of quick jabs to her head as he knelt into the stomp to bring his body and fists over her. Her head was caught between knuckles and floor, there was a dark flash behind her eyes, and she was out.


    ***


    She came back to consciousness with a roaring sound in her ears and a static crackle of light in her head. She could feel a rhythmic bobbing and painful shaking as her brain seemed to bounce within her skull. Soon she was able to resolve her situation, head down draped over a shoulder, hands tied, feet¡­. yup, feet tied too.


    She checked internally. Still boosted, only about ninety seconds had elapsed. As far as she could tell from the ground jumping in her sight, they were just leaving the garage, the vampire warming up into a bounding run through the dark, jumping over the broken remains of a chain link fence as he hit the field.


    She heard a whistling noise and a thud, and then she was rolling freely across the dirt field, mouth and nose full of grit.


    One star, she thought, would not recommend.


    She had found some review sites during her internet archive explorations and had spent a few minutes wrapping her head around the odd practice.


    She pushed aside her random thoughts to take in the events around her. The vampire was about ten feet behind her, silhouetted against light from New Manaus, body oddly contorted with several long sticks protruding from legs and torso. He straightened and looked like he was going to bolt, when another stick appeared with a snapping sound on the side of his head and he collapsed.


    She heard fast footsteps grow quickly in volume, and the runner appeared, a long curved device in one hand, a familiar toothy smile on his face.


    ¡°This is no time to be laying around, Lilijoy, we have a ride to catch!¡±


    He bent down to untie her, then thought better of it and scooped her up.


    Here we go again, she thought fluff mode.


    She let her head fall against his shoulder and lost consciousness.


    ***


    Emily was furious! Just when she was getting used to the new system in her head, her mother was making her take it out! Well, her father too, but she knew that was just because he was a wimp who did anything Mom told him to.


    Mom was the one who was always like ¡°Stage One is bad enough! We¡¯ve never tested Stage Two on someone her age, what if it hurts her ittle wittle brain.¡±


    Okay, she didn¡¯t say the ¡®ittle wittle¡¯ part, but Emily was sure that was the thought behind it.


    ¡°God damn it, Mom,¡± she imagined saying, ¡°I¡¯m almost thirteen. I¡¯m not a little kid. Jane Petersen¡¯s little brother has a system, and he¡¯s not even eight.¡±


    She imagined the look on her mother¡¯s face, hearing all her concerns crushed by Emily¡¯s devastating argument. Then she imagined the look on her mother¡¯s face if she ever talked back to her like that and decided her argument was better left internal. For now.


    She was hiding in her room, sprawled on the bed¡¯s pink cotton duvet cover. She looked up at the kitten poster on her wall with disgust.


    Stupid kitten she thought. No wonder Mom and Dad think I¡¯m still just a little girl.


    She contemplated ripping the poster off the wall, but it was so cute she decided to leave it up; ironically of course. Her mind turned back to her system. Well, Dad¡¯s system. It was his life¡¯s work after all.


    "Show me my room if it was cool!" she commanded.


    Immediately frost began to form on the windows and icicles descended from the ceiling. She felt a breeze carrying a crisp arctic scent flow from the new glacier that descended where a wall used to be, terminating in her lame desk with no drawers or anywhere to keep stuff. No wonder she could never find a pencil. She sighed in exasperation.


    ¡°Not that kind of cool!¡± she yelled out loud.


    Leave it to her Dad¡¯s system not to know what ¡®cool¡¯ meant.


    Throwing herself off the bed, she stalked to her door and threw it open in swirl of light snowflakes.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    This time they are going to listen to me! she thought.


    As she pounded down the stairs, her consciousness began to fade, and she felt herself falling, as if from a great height. Down, down she went, and at the bottom there was only¡­Lilijoy dreaming.


    Lilijoy regained consciousness in stages. The first stage was sensations from her body, aching, throbbing, abraded, swollen. The next stage was a slow search for any part of her that did not have some kind of ailment. She thought for a moment she had found one in her left calf and foot, then realized that that part of her body had fallen asleep, and was in fact beginning to tingle uncomfortably.


    After the bodily evaluation, she took a moment to consider her dream. Except it wasn¡¯t really a dream? She had a feeling that the system logs were much more than dry statistics and warnings, though she would have to ask Jiannu why on earth they were playing when she slept.


    Her dreams felt like she was replaying a memory as both participant and observer. She chuckled for a moment, remembering Emily¡¯s room growing glaciers and icicles. She marveled at Emily¡¯s relationship with her parents. It was so different from anything in Lilijoy¡¯s experience. Except for being told what to do. And the fear of talking back.


    She wondered if Emily¡¯s parents kicked her like the Bros did. Somehow she doubted it. Lilijoy didn¡¯t quite have the concept of ¡®privileged¡¯ as such, but Emily¡¯s life had been really nice, and Lilijoy was sure that she wouldn¡¯t have taken it for granted as Emily seemed to do. However, she was in complete agreement with Emily about her system. If someone tried to take her flowers, Lilijoy was sure she would put up a bigger fight than Emily!


    Her environment began to intrude on her musing. Smooth moving sensation, gentle whooshing buzz, faint snores. She didn¡¯t feel up to opening her eyes just yet, though she could see it was light outside through her lids, so she pulled up a quick status.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>9,934 [Urgent Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>87%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>9%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>2 detected, 0 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    It looked like the last of the senescent flowers had finished dying, and her Stage One integration had gone up nicely. With mild curiosity, she selected that to see what more details were available.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>STAGE ONE INTEGRATION</td>


    <td>9%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>9093</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Visual System</td>


    <td>22%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Auditory System</td>


    <td>18%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioceptive System</td>


    <td>8%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Motor System</td>


    <td>2%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Olfactory/Gustatory System</td>


    <td>.2%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Somatosensory System</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Spatial System</td>


    <td>2%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Verbal/Linguistic System</td>


    <td>21%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Logical/Mathematical System</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Emotional/Hormonal System</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Myelin Enhancement</td>


    <td>.1%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She resisted the urge to immediately shut the window when confronted with the long column of numbers, and glanced down it looking for any patterns. It seemed clear that the systems she was using most carried the largest percentages. Out of a sense of masochistic fun, she selected ¡®Visual System¡±


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>VISUAL SYSTEM INTEGRATION</td>


    <td>22.1%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>1290</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Internal</td>


    <td>42%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Image Generation</td>


    <td>53%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Image Interpretation</td>


    <td>32%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Intrasystem Communication</td>


    <td>78%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>External</td>


    <td>1%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Interpretation</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Enhancement</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Optic Nerve Enhancement</td>


    <td>0%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Retinal Structures Enhancement</td>


    <td>0%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Her system was overwhelming! It just went on and on, deeper and deeper. She was very glad that it seemed to do just fine without her help. Hopefully any deliberate choices based on details were far, far down the road.


    She was distracted by Anda clearing his throat.


    ¡°Returning to the land of the living?¡± he inquired.


    Lilijoy groaned and opened her eyes, shielding them against the bright light penetrating the canopy. As she had deduced, they were in a hovercraft, canopy intact this time. Anda was regarding her, the smile that rarely left his face surfacing as he met her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say a word. Before anything else, I must do this¡­¡± A window formed


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>External Message from Anda Kukata Maasai (nr)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Local Radiant</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: File, unknown format</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Title: Anda Kukata Maasai contact information</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°Did you get something?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes. Hold on,¡± she replied.


    She inspected the file, and received a prompt asking ¡°Do you want to analyze this file for content/function?¡± She assented, and almost instantly received a window saying ¡°Analysis complete. File contains multiple forms of contact information for ID Anda Kukata Maasai. Do you wish to add this contact to your ¡®People¡¯?¡± After that was taken care of, she looked up at Anda.


    ¡°I wish I had this last night!¡±


    ¡°Me too, Lilijoy, me too. But hopefully we have put that mess behind us for the moment. Now try to figure out how to send a message to me. Your system will choose the method if you don¡¯t specify.¡±


    This turned out to be very intuitive, no menus required. She just thought Anda¡¯s name and ¡°Hi Anda!¡± after which she saw ¡®Message Sent¡¯ and ¡®Message Received¡¯ pop at the bottom of her vision.


    Anda gave a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Thank goodness, I was afraid that would take us all day! You must have worked miracles with your system while I was detained. I thought you were going to lose it entirely, and when you became ill I was afraid it might be due to your system collapsing. Though I thought it more likely that bacteria from your wound had entered your bloodstream. Now I have good news, good and bad news, and very bad news.¡± He briefly had a sympathetic look. ¡°Which would you like first?¡±


    ¡°Unless you have to go away again, I¡¯m ready for anything!¡±


    ¡°Okay. Well the really bad news¡­¡± He hesitated and began again. ¡°The really bad news is that your arm is now certainly infected. I don¡¯t have much medical experience, but I have access to medical systems that can remotely diagnose, and they are telling me that your arm will need to be removed just after the elbow. If we don¡¯t do this within a few hours, there is a very good chance you will die.¡±


    He looked at her, waiting for a reaction.


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what she felt. She had grown accustomed to life with one arm. She almost felt that past Lilijoy, the one with two arms and no flowers, was a different person. Given a choice, she would choose who she was now, clear thinking and growing every day. Old Lilijoy was fog brained and static. She was pretty sure she would rather lose all her limbs than go back.


    So, oddly, her first emotion was almost happiness. Losing the arm would be confirmation of all that had happened to her, a sign that she could never go back to being an ignorant scavenger living next to a toxic waste dump!


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said brightly. ¡°What¡¯s the good news?¡±


    Anda looked as if he wanted to say more on the subject, but he took her lead.


    ¡°The good news is that we have two, admittedly very weak, med bug pills. They won¡¯t be able to regenerate an arm. I¡¯m not even sure they could repair a modest injury. But they will certainly help with the amputation. In the future, we could look for med bugs that are specifically designed to help your body regrow lost limbs. It takes months, but such things are possible. Unfortunately, they are extremely costly and difficult to obtain. Most people who lose a limb these days would rather use the credits for something else, especially because prosthetics work quite well.¡±


    As Anda talked, Lilijoy marveled at how adept her system was becoming at integrating meaning into unfamiliar words, both verbal and written. She had never heard the word ¡®prosthetic¡¯ before, but she intuitively recognized it. I wonder if this would work for other languages?


    ¡°That¡¯s great, Anda! I don¡¯t really care so much about the arm, but it is a pain when I need two hands. Climbing is really hard now, and I used to be the best climber in the territory! What¡¯s the good and bad news?¡± she remembered to ask.


    ¡°We now have a group of people helping us. They are good people, my people, after my clan exiled me. We call ourselves ¡®Renaissance¡¯ and we are trying to make the world better for everyone, not just the Clans and the fortunate. The bad news is that now many more people know about you. Even a good person will be tempted to try to take what you have, take you really, because the Corp will pay more credits than most of us will see in a hundred lifetimes. Many members of Renaissance come from wealthy backgrounds, but we are talking about amounts that only the most elite in our society can even conceive. Tens of millions, maybe hundreds of millions of credits in my estimation. A normal person might earn fifty thousand credits for a lifetime¡¯s work.


    Even the Renaissance leadership will not be immune to that temptation. They could sell you to a clan and have enough credits to fund and grow Renaissance activities for generations. ¡®For the greater good¡¯ they would rationalize it. I have tried to keep our secret contained to only a few of my most trusted friends and associates, but it is the nature of information to be free. It is only a matter of time before we have problems that come from my choice to tell the others, and for that, I apologize.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s silly!¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t apologize for saving me. Besides, maybe I can find a way to share my bugs. There''s a bunch more now. I call them flowers now, because that¡¯s what they look like. Even the designers thought so, ¡®cause they called them ¡®Lotuses¡¯."


    Anda made a small choking noise as Lilijoy went on.


    ¡°If I can cultivate and make enough flowers, why can¡¯t I find a way to give them to other people if they want them so badly?¡±


    Anda was now busy folding his head down to his knees and making whimpering sounds. When he realized Lilijoy was looking at him, he raised his head a bit and asked, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have ever run across a name to call your system? You would find it by selecting the word ¡®about¡¯ or something like that.¡±


    His eyes were piercing, searching as he waited for her answer. Lilijoy suddenly felt quite nervous as she replied.


    ¡°It¡¯s called the Tao System.¡±

 Chapter 21: Dirty Bomb

    In conversation between people, there is a rare and memorable event referred to as ¡®dropping a bomb¡¯.


    For example, the evil enemy could tell his noble and innocent adversary, ¡°I am your father.¡± And that would be considered quite a good-sized bomb. Let¡¯s call it a bunker buster; penetrating defenses and delivering its explosive payload with devastating results. Certainly, enough to get people talking.


    Or a person may tell another person ¡°I¡¯m afraid the arm has got to come off.¡± Which is a different kind of bomb, devastating to the one hit, but unfortunately not uncommon in the grand scheme of things. Call that one a grenade.


    Surprising, but ultimately enjoyable news that leaves one with a nice fizzy feeling could be called a ¡®bath bomb¡¯. ¡°It¡¯s not like that at all. He¡¯s my brother,¡± for example.


    And then there was the bomb that Lilijoy dropped on Anda. While it is tempting to characterize it in terms of the nuclear bombs that wrought such devastation near the end of the twenty-first century, it might be more suitably compared to a ¡®dirty bomb¡¯; conventional explosives and radioactive material mixed. Yes, the explosion is bad, buildings blown up, innocent bystanders becoming innocent corpses and so on. Very, very bad to be there when it goes off.


    But what makes a dirty bomb, well, dirty, is the invisible cloud of radioactive waste, and the dawning realization that this is going to hurt many, many people. People entirely unaware that something has happened that will destroy their lives, their health, their homes. And it is someone¡¯s job to tell those people the news.


    ¡°Hello Mrs. Smith, do you remember that explosion yesterday, oh about fifteen blocks up-wind from here? Oh, I am sorry to hear that one of your bottles fell off the shelf from the tremor. Well, Mrs. Smith, I am here to tell you that you, and your whole family, and pets, and neighbors, are all going to die a horrible agonizing death over the next week or so. Sorry about that. Please do let the neighbors know; they weren¡¯t in when I called.¡±


    Anda suddenly felt like that person.


    Denial was a proven method of dealing with news of such magnitude, news that couldn¡¯t even be classified as ¡®bad¡¯. Taking this into account, he thought, Tao was a very trendy thing to name things back then. I shouldn¡¯t alarm Lilijoy just yet.


    Out loud, he asked, ¡°Could you tell me more about your flowers? Did you mention that they can replicate themselves?¡±


    He was usually a very stable, affable person, able to stay calm and above the fray, and he was proud that he kept his voice steady and upbeat, as if he was just incidentally curious. Perhaps, after all, this was just a bomb, without the ¡®dirt¡¯.


    ¡°Oh yes! I helped too, but we made lots and lots of new flowers. Vines at first, which I call flower vines, but then the Little Lotuses. I wish you could see them, Anda! They are so pretty floating around. And next time there will be twice as many!¡±


    She noticed that this last statement caused a peculiar pained expression to cross Anda¡¯s face.


    ¡°So¡­you would say that each time, there are about twice as many?¡±


    He was a little less successful keeping his voice light and even this time. Perhaps it was the clenched teeth.


    ¡°Well, maybe not exactly. Now that there are more Little Lotuses than vines. Jiannu says that the vines are better at moving the rare earths around and¡­¡±


    Anda¡¯s head spun. Rare earth elements? Systems used carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, silicon, phosphorus and a few others. The usual suspects. Sure, there was the odd molecule requiring something a little less¡­biological. Any use of rare earth elements in a biological interface was exceedingly rare. Where would they even come from anyway? It¡¯s not like the body just had them lying around. Then his mind caught up with the other little tidbit Lilijoy dropped. But of course, it couldn¡¯t be. People named their systems all the time. Like naming a hovercraft.


    ¡°Lilijoy, who is Jiannu?¡±


    ¡°She lives in my flowers. And I guess kind of in my brain cells too? She says we are one mind, but it doesn¡¯t feel that way when I talk to her. She knows way more than me.¡± She considered something for a second. ¡°Actually, she reminds me of you a little, or maybe Marcus. She is very wise. She taught me how to use the Golden Flower.¡±


    Anda kept his head very still in order to keep the melted remains of his brain from sloshing out his ears.


    So, he thought, let¡¯s recap. She has a legendary/forbidden system that is capable of self-replication and exponential growth, uses rare earth elements, and seems to house an A.I. of some kind. Maybe next she can get it to create viruses that kill all remaining animals and turn plants into candy canes, while simultaneously geoengineering the earth into one giant block of ice. For her final act she can tell Guardian to take its rules and shove them where the sun don¡¯t shine. Which will be everywhere, because her bugs have found a way to put it out.


    He felt a little guilty when he noticed Lilijoy staring at him expectantly.


    ¡°Ah yes, Golden Flower!¡± he said, for no reason at all. ¡°Lilijoy, I think it¡¯s time you learned something very important about our world. Do you know how to receive broadcasts?¡±


    She remembered seeing it in ¡®communications¡¯ and nodded vigorously.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Good. There is an open broadcast simply titled ¡®The Rules.¡¯ I think you should find it right now¡­¡± he worked very hard not to overly emphasize ¡®right now¡¯, ¡°¡­and look at it very carefully. If anything confuses you, you can focus on that part, and it will explain it better, or in more detail. Once you are finished, let me know so we can talk about it and your system¡±


    Lilijoy was a bit concerned about Anda. He seemed to be trying to smile through some kind of pained expression. She hoped his leg wound wasn¡¯t infected like her arm. Maybe he hurt it again when he ran across the field to get her! It seemed that the ability to block physical pain could carry all kinds of repercussions.


    She followed his instructions and pulled up the rules. The Rules were not just any ordinary set of laws or guidelines. These were the very laws that Marcus had told her about in his room on the factory mine, ages ago.


    1) When things reproduce and grow in an uncontrolled manner, particularly if the growth is rapid, they can outgrow the resources needed for sustainability and adversely impact life and the environment on a global scale. Going forward, reproduction and growth of all things, mechanical and biological, will be closely monitored and guided to avoid damage to the Earth and its ability to sustain life.


    As part of this guidance, Guardian has determined that certain types of reproduction and/or replication are strictly forbidden, unless under Guardian¡¯s direct control. The most dangerous is material artificial life-like processes that can replicate. While controls (such as built in resource bottlenecks) can improve the safety outcomes of artificial self-replication, beings with the brain capacity of humans (or the combined brain capacities of many humans) are not able to reliably foresee all possible outcomes and thus are not competent to engage in the creation of material artificial life.


    Any human, or group of humans found to be responsible for the creation of material artificial life will be destroyed, along with all facilities and research involved in the creation. Any material artificial life created by humans will be destroyed. Guardian reserves the right to contain and archive samples.


    The tendency of biological sentients (typically humans) to reproduce beyond the carrying capacity of their environment is well documented. A conservative limit on human reproduction is necessary, with a hard cap at a ratio of one human to 6,200 metric tons of other life forms (cap is currently 75,010,090). Should human population go beyond the cap, it will be culled in the geographical region violating the ratio. One warning will be given to allow humans to decide the specifics of the culling (demographics, method).


    Biological life forms with a DNA legacy (related to life that is historically present on Earth) may be altered in a controlled manner supervised and authorized by Guardian or appointed subsystem of Guardian. Life forms altered in violation of these conditions will be destroyed.


    Uncontrolled population growth from any entity (including viruses and bacteria as well as macro life forms) will be curbed as deemed appropriate by Guardian or appointed subsystem.


    2) The Earth and its environmental systems are vast and complex. Any intelligence not capable of modeling the Earth (10,000,000,000 humans devoting all of their conscious calculating power would represent a lower threshold) is forbidden to deliberately or accidentally engage in activities that will impact the Earth on a global scale. This includes deliberate injection of atmospheric components, oceanic components, space based solar interventions as well as indiscriminate burning of hydrocarbons, unbalanced agricultural practices, use of megaton explosive devices and stimulated volcanic activity)


    3) Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy are an important and valid goal for relationships between beings. However, the relative intelligence/sentience of beings is an important factor in considering these rights. Any being within 100 times the intelligence of another has a reasonable expectation of being accorded these rights by them. As Guardian¡¯s relative intelligence to an individual human can be considered at a lower threshold of 10,000,000,000 times greater, such rights are not applicable between Guardian and humans.


    4) These rules will be implemented and enforced due to Guardian¡¯s appreciation of the role humans played in its genesis. Originally tasked to provide intelligent modeling and wise advice for the preservation of human life and the Earth¡¯s biosphere, Guardian or appointed subsystem will continue to protect humans from themselves, and the Earth from humans and other threats.


    Lilijoy dismissed the broadcast and sat in thought for a few minutes. She was working through the implications of the Rules to her current situation. She looked over at Anda, who was watching her with a sympathetic expression.


    ¡°So, Strider,¡± she said at last, ¡°Any idea where to find Mount Doom?¡±


    He stared at her, expression utterly blank. Then a light of comprehension dawned over his face, and he began to chuckle. Soon he was helplessly batting at his leg with one arm, while holding the other to his stomach.


    ¡°Oh, dear Lilijoy,¡± he managed. ¡°You really are an amazing creature!¡±


    After another round of laughter, he looked at her more seriously.


    ¡°It seems you understand the implications of Rule One. To think we did the Corp a huge favor by running away! The only bright spot is that Guardian is not yet aware of the situation. I have no doubt that many pieces of information are swirling up through its subsystems, that when put together will result in... a very unfortunate result. Nothing that goes on in my system or anyone else¡¯s is hidden from Guardian, so it¡¯s only a question of time before it finds out about you.


    In the past, Guardian¡¯s preferred method of enforcing the first Rule has been a space-based microwave laser. In that case, let me say goodbye now, as we won¡¯t have any warning before we cease to exist.¡±


    He reached over and pulled her into a one-armed hug. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what else to do but hug him back with her good arm. Then he continued ¡°I am actually amazed it has not already occurred. There is an ancient saying ¡®shoot first and ask questions later¡¯, and Guardian typically doesn¡¯t have to ask any questions!¡±


    ¡°But Anda, you have to go! Drop me off right now and drive away as fast as you can.¡±


    She looked at him, eyes pleading. It was really the last thing she wanted, but it was also the only thing she wanted.


    ¡°I doubt that would matter. I am connected to you. It is almost certain that Guardian would destroy the factory mine, your tribe, Mo, Marcus and anyone else who has been in direct contact with you. This is what Marcus was afraid of when he decided to leave so abruptly. He contacted me to take you, because he knows I am both brave and foolish, and that I have a soft spot for the underdog. Even then, I only planned to bring you to the outskirts of Manaus and hand you off to a different colleague of mine.¡±


    He gave a little smile. ¡°But then you had to go and defeat a vampire in single combat, saving my life in the process. Even if I hadn¡¯t owed you a life debt, I couldn¡¯t pass up seeing the rest of your story unfold. I have only lived my life as a true warrior, and I have no regrets, so don¡¯t feel bad if the last page of your story includes the end of the...¡± He pounded his chest. ¡°...mighty Maasai warrior Anda Kukata!¡±


    He smirked at his own mock vainglory.


    ¡°By the way, whenever did you have the time to read ¡®Lord of the Rings¡¯?¡±

 Chapter 22: Legend

    After Lilijoy filled Anda in on all of her (mostly internal) adventures, they sat in silence as the marshy river banks passed. They were headed somewhere in the interior of the continent, following another former river channel, the Purus this time. It was a month past the end of the short rainy season, so the wide channel was still quite muddy, often breaking into small rivulets of flowing water. They had even crossed a few shallow lakes. The landscape was gradually becoming more barren; less plant, more stinking mud. Anda had chosen the direction more or less at random to avoid any more encounters with Boggs or his allies.


    Waiting for death from above in anxious acceptance was a unique feeling, Lilijoy thought. She wasn¡¯t quite sure what to think or do. All of her excitement about her flower¡¯s advances had evaporated instantly. Much as she was going to at any moment.


    She turned to Anda as her passivity momentarily inverted into frustration, blurting, ¡°There must be something we can do!¡±


    Anda¡¯s expression toyed with a sad smile, before settling into sympathy. ¡°Pray,¡± he said.


    That felt like an empty answer, even though she wasn¡¯t completely sure what it meant.


    Her annoyance must have showed, as Anda went on to explain, ¡°I don¡¯t mean that frivolously. For many people, most people around the world, praying is a way to connect with the universe beyond themselves, and through that connection become more than just an insignificant ant on the surface of the earth. To reach out to something bigger, God or Allah or Enkai as my people call it. We hope that the connection may flow both ways, and that our concerns will become smaller as we become part of something bigger. Of course, in the back of our minds, most people are also hoping that God will magically fix our problems for us, even though we recognize how childish that feeling may be. Typically, prayer is the last refuge in times of death and tragedy.


    So when I suggest that you pray, I don¡¯t mean to belittle your feelings. I mean that you should make your own feelings be little, by becoming part of something for whom your despair and tragedy are akin to a child crying over a dropped sweet. There are even those who worship Guardian as a god and pray to it. There is even a dedicated satellite for listening to their prayers. Not that Guardian would ever answer!¡±


    Lilijoy looked at Anda, her eyes narrowed in defiance. ¡°Let¡¯s see if Guardian will answer me,¡± she said.


    ***


    ¡°Hello, Guardian. This is Lilijoy. I really need to talk to you before you start vaporizing people. I¡¯ve got this system called the Tao system or something, and Anda (I¡¯m sure you know who he is), told me that it¡¯s some kind of legend or something and it looks like it might bend Rule One just a little bit. But it doesn¡¯t do anything unless I tell it to. So it¡¯s not really replicating by itself, you understand, ¡®cause I have to tell it or it won¡¯t. Replicate I mean.


    Oh, and it needs these things called rare earth elements to grow, and if it grows too much it¡¯ll run out and then stop. And the man who designed it lived a long time ago. I¡¯m pretty sure he did it before your Rules, so maybe it doesn¡¯t count quite the same? And you should know that I¡¯m the only one that has it, so you don¡¯t need to waste any energy microwaving anyone else, unless you really want to. I think that¡¯s pretty much it. Oh, except for Jiannu. Anda thinks she might be an A.I. who lives in my system. She¡¯s really smart, and nice. Okay, I¡¯m done. Bye!¡±


    She closed the link, and sat back in her seat, avoiding Anda¡¯s eyes. He had not been in favor of her gambit, but had done nothing other than say, ¡°The worst it can do is hasten our deaths by a few minutes anyway.¡± Though he might have rolled his eyes a little.


    She resumed her study of the landscape, and marveled as several large birds burst from a small stand of reeds, startled by the hovercraft¡¯s passage. She felt a certain serenity from the sight. Beautiful life will go on, always finding a way to survive, she thought. Then she remembered that Guardian¡¯s microwave laser typically covered an area about a mile wide, and felt bad for any wildlife caught in her vicinity.


    I hope whatever those birds were, they fly far, far away.


    Her reveries were interrupted by gentle sound she could only characterize as a ¡®whoosh bell¡¯. A small message window entered her vision.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>External Message from Right Hand of Azreal (Tier 5)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Satellite, Narrow</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: Text</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Title: Registration</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Message Body:


    A Message was received from <Lilijoy> [Self Identified] using system [Tao 2.3.3]


    This identification and system are unregistered to the Guardian network.


    Identification <Lilijoy> available.


    Do you wish to register user <Lilijoy> using system <Tao 2.3.3> to the Guardian network?


    Reply to this message to consent.


    Registration will enable access to public Guardian services.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She read it over, then quickly forwarded it to Anda. ¡°What do you make of this?¡± she asked.


    His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. She could have sworn she saw his eyes cross briefly, though he has probably just focused on his internal view.


    ¡°This is...not...bad?¡± he said. ¡°There are a few unusual things here. When a child uses their interface to communicate with the system for the first time, they get a message like this. It¡¯s something of a rite of passage, getting your official ID, and many families celebrate the occasion. Often, the child has to go through several attempts to find a user name they like. Once it is chosen, it never changes, though there are many ways to mask it within the system. It is much the same when joining the Inside for the first time. A new name is created and permanently connected to your system ID.¡±


    ¡°The first interesting thing I see here,¡± he continued, ¡°is the sender. Ninety-nine percent of communications directed at the system never receive a reply. The primary exception is first time registration. When someone receives a reply, it is usually from a sender like ¡®Guardian network admin 56784 at tier six''. Pretty much the only thing that changes is the number. Getting a reply from tier five is very uncommon, and the name is even more unusual. Azreal is the tier four subsystem supervising humans in the Outside. Tier four is the highest anyone has ever interacted with, and almost all of those communications have occurred in the Inside. The Subsystem supervising the Inside is more involved with humans than any other, and he will make an appearance if the circumstances merit. But Azreal stays far above the fray. I don¡¯t think anyone has ever been in contact with that one.¡±


    Lilijoy jumped in. ¡°But mine says it¡¯s from the ¡®Right Hand of Azreal¡¯. That would be like her assistant, right?¡±


    ¡°We can only speculate about the relationships among such beings. They are all part of Guardian, but they have independence as well.¡±


    Like Jiannu and me, thought Lilijoy.


    ¡°Wise ones in my former clan speculate that a human would be about equivalent to a tier six in brain power, and that each tier has a mind at least a hundred times greater than the previous. It is thought that ¡®The Rules¡¯ is tier three. Anyway, the other odd thing is the system registration. It just seems odd, how minimal it is. Guardian will only interact with recognized systems, systems it has taken apart and examined. For Guardian to blindly accept your system would be like you marrying a stranger, just because they asked via message. It makes no sense. I can only conclude that Guardian somehow has encountered the Tao system previously. That, or it is a mistake made at a lower processing level. If it is a mistake, we¡¯ll never know, because the vaporization will take place immediately.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Lilijoy processed this. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can take living with the uncertainty. I¡¯m going to accept the registration, and ask for clarification.¡±


    She proceeded to message ¡®Right Hand of Azreal¡¯.


    ¡°Yes. I do want to register my name and system. By the way, how many other Tao system users are in the network?¡±


    Soon a ¡®whoosh bell¡¯ followed.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>External Message from Right Hand of Azreal (Tier 5)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Satellite, Narrow</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: Text</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Title: Registration</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Message Body:


    A Message was received from <Lilijoy> [Self Identified] using system [Tao 2.3.3]


    <Lilijoy> is now your primary identification for all Guardian network functions and areas. In conjunction with system [Tao 2.3.3]


    Tao system user base <unknowable>


    Further communications directed to Guardian network Admin 11237 (Tier 6)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She again showed it to Anda. Sighing and shrugging all at once, Anda said, ¡°It seems as if you have been bumped down in priority; that¡¯s not unexpected. I don¡¯t know what to make of ¡®Tao user base unknowable¡¯. Shouldn¡¯t it say ¡®unknown?¡¯ I¡¯m quite surprised it answered at all, but then to give one like that...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like it has to know about it to even know that it¡¯s unknowable,¡± said Lilijoy, nearly tangling herself in her own phrasing. ¡°You know?¡±


    Blinking, Anda replied, ¡°I couldn¡¯t have said it better myself, dear one. I am starting to feel that my odds of becoming a smear of carbon in the near future are diminishing. I suggest we drive off the channel a bit and find a sheltered spot. Since it looks like we might live for the time being, we need to make sure that you don¡¯t die from your infection. I am going to give you the med bugs now and you can see if your system can interface with them. Even if it can¡¯t, med bugs will keep you from bleeding to death and clear out any residual infection.¡±


    He reached into a pouch and pulled out two large oval pills., handing them to Lilijoy. ¡°Let me know what happens. It should narrow down the treatment possibilities. I can try interfacing with them externally if they don¡¯t show up for you.¡±


    Lilijoy looked down at the pills filling her hand. Overflowing her hand, really. She gulped nervously, testing her swallow against the ovoid menaces. They seemed to be getting bigger by the second. She lifted one up to get a closer look. It was black and shiny.


    ¡°Lilijoy is...I mean, I am not sure this will fit,¡± she said.


    Anda looked at her with a grin. ¡°There is another way to take them you know,¡± he said, gesturing toward his lower half.


    Lilijoy looked at him askance. Anda got a bit flustered. ¡°You know, you can put them up your...¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lilijoy interrupted. ¡°Ohhh, I get it. I can put them up my butt. Yes. That would be much better. Just hold on one second.¡±


    Anda turned away as she began to pull up her absolutely filthy and torn pillowcase, pondering the inhibitions modern culture bestowed. As he pondered, he quickly checked the network to see if his suggestion would actually work. He had expected to make her feel better about swallowing them. He sighed in relief, discovering that the two methods would be about equivalent. He would not have looked forward to explaining she needed to swallow them after all, especially now that they were otherwise confined.


    He abandoned an image of being chased around a hovercraft by a furious Lilijoy (and he knew how deadly she could be in a confined space.) to pay attention to her words.


    ¡°Anda, how long will it take?¡±


    ¡°About thirty minutes to interface, an hour or so to maximum efficacy,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Okay.¡± She wriggled uncomfortably for a moment. ¡°Anda, what do you know about the Tao system? Is it really dangerous or something?¡± She didn¡¯t see how Jiannu and the flowers could pose a threat, but clearly, she didn¡¯t have the whole picture.


    ¡°Lilijoy, there are legends of systems with incredible power, tales told around the campfire, of the time before Guardian. Many of the powers we have rediscovered, or found the actual bugs, and today there are people who have enhanced their bodies and brains to an incredible extent. We use a system of ¡®ranks¡¯ which loosely follows which part of the body is augmented, and by how much. You can find the details easily enough on your own now, but let me give you an example. Rank eight is muscle enhancement. People at that rank are using bugs which augment or even replace individual muscle fibers in a variety of ways. Each rank has one to ten levels, so a strong rank eight, let¡¯s say rank eight at the ninth level, can lift many, many times her own body weight.¡±


    He raised a finger, going into full lecture mode.


    ¡°However, if someone had such strong muscles, but normal bones, they would break every bone in their body when they used their full strength. For that reason, bone enhancement must come before muscle enhancement. Bone is rank six. You already know about rank 4, which is blood. You need strong blood to serve the bones and muscles, so blood comes first. For these reasons, and others, such as cost and ease of access, there is a basic order.¡±


    ¡°A person with all ten ranks at the highest level is a force of nature. In combat, they could destroy a large group of armed men with their bare hands, but combat is only a small part of why some strive for the highest levels. It is also for status and competitive drive and for the satisfaction of performing amazing feats. Ultimately, it represents the human drive for surpassing excellence. It also doesn¡¯t hurt that the highest ranks seem to have virtually unlimited youthful lifespans. The reason we aren¡¯t all running around as immortal superheroes is simple, the cost. Well, that and the fact that the clans who specialize in certain high rank bugs can be very difficult to deal with.¡±


    His lips tightened in frustration for just a moment.


    ¡°As you know, almost everyone has some Rank one augmentations, and I find those to be the most valuable.¡±


    He seemed to realize he had gone off topic and shook his head in apology. With a wink he said, ¡°Getting back to your question, there are legends of bugs with powers that go beyond the ten ranks we use now. Bugs that can control other systems. Bugs that allow the user to split their mind, to shape their body, to see the future,¡± he rolled his eyes. ¡°If you can imagine a power, there is probably an imaginary legendary bug that can do it. After all, humans have never lost our love for the fantastic and the mythological. One of the best-known legends is the Tao system.¡±


    His voice lowered, ¡°The legend goes that in the time of strife before Guardian, a wise sage developed bugs, or bots as they were known, that could incorporate and improve any other bots that they contacted. He felt that seduction was preferable to destruction, and envisioned groups of warrior-sages entering the battlefield and with a wave of their hands, disarming all the technological weapons, taming all the uncontrolled bugs, rendering the combatants as weak and friendly as kittens."


    Lilijoy thought back to Emily¡¯s kitten poster. That would be so cool, she thought, smiling inwardly as she remembered an icicle flowing over the kitten.


    ¡°So what happened?¡± she prompted.


    ¡°Of course, the system used by the warrior-monks would need to be able to compete with the most vicious, all-devouring bugs, the kind that destroyed entire continents.¡± He looked somber. ¡°We never mention Australia, even today.¡±


    Shaking it off, he continued, ¡°So they were elite physically, mentally, and their own bugs could replicate equally fast, suppressing the demon bugs and using them for feedstock, working in harmony with the warriors to quell the outbreak.¡±


    ¡°The story starts as the Tao system was first being tested in the real world. The warrior-monks took the battlefield in a particularly nasty outbreak, the heat from the demon bug¡¯s uncontrolled replication burning trees and melting rocks, the bugs expanding in a circle of ever greater circumference surrounding a landscape completely empty of any organic matter, rocks crackling, sand glazing, devouring outward faster than even the swiftest animal could run.


    No one knows the fate of the Monks. Did they perish in the face of the brutal consumption of the demon bugs? Did they stop the advance and slowly, arduously begin to force the bugs back into the interior to their destruction? Some legends even say that the Monks simply walked into the fires of the demon bugs, and in their footsteps, flowers bloomed as the demons were tamed into reversing the destruction they had caused.


    No one will ever know, because that was the day Guardian rose. Its mighty weapons rained fire and destruction, destroying the monks and the demon bugs alike, and the world was at peace.¡± He smiled ironically.


    ¡°After all, what is more peaceful than death?¡±


    Lilijoy stared at Anda with wide eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± he added ¡°Guardian is indisputably the savior of our species and we owe it a great debt. This legend is just that, a fun story that gives wonder to children, like a thousand other stories of might and magic and tragedy. There has never been any evidence for the Tao system¡¯s existence.¡±


    He looked at Lilijoy, waiting.


    ¡°Until now,¡± she said.

 Part 2: Chapter 23: Gatekeeper

    Flat multicolored mud of the marshes stretched endlessly in all directions.


    Rapid climate cooling and wildly erratic seasonal rains had turned lush rain forest into a vast stretch of muck covered with algal blooms in red and yellow. Decay from submerged trees emitted gases which stirred the muck in endless anemic blooping. Plants here were limited to patches of ground with subtly higher elevation, crouching at the edges of expansive plains of putrefaction. The mats of algae possessed an oddly metallic sheen in places, playing havoc with any sense of light and contour to the eyes.


    As far as Lilijoy could tell, there was no animal life at all, not even the annoying flies she encountered on the way to Manaus. The stench would have been unbearable, if she hadn¡¯t figured out she could disengage her olfactory system. As it was, she felt light headed and a little nauseous. As the sun-blob began to sink in the rippling air, she heard Jiannu¡¯s voice.


    ¡°I have connected to the med bug¡¯s distributed processor. Their coverage of your body is very attenuated, so I have concentrated them only in your left upper extremity.¡±


    ¡°You can call it an arm, Jiannu,¡± said Lilijoy


    Jiannu ignored the comment.


    ¡°It is clear that this variety of med bug is only efficient in high concentrations. The nanobody count in the pills was clearly inadequate to their intended purpose, however the quality of the individual bot is viable. I have been researching the subject in the background of your network communications, and I believe these would be characterized as a rank three or even four. I suspect that each of the pills you received represents less than five percent of the appropriate dose. When you have achieved sufficient progress with our system, we will be able to create sufficient quantities for ongoing prevention of physical ailments such as arterial plaque, precancerous cells and systemic inflammation. Acute injuries up to a moderate level will also be quickly repaired.¡±


    That all sounded good to Lilijoy, in a completely not understood way. ¡°What about my arm now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I believe there is sufficient concentration to allow for internal amputation, with a certain degree of prosthetic preparation.¡±


    Lilijoy spoke out loud. ¡°Anda, Jiannu says I can do an ¡®internal amputation¡¯ with some ¡®prosthetic preparation¡¯. Does that mean anything to you?¡±


    Anda gave a sigh of relief. ¡°I hadn¡¯t dared hope that Boggs¡¯ bugs would be up to that. I was afraid I would have to do it the hard way.¡±


    He made a chopping motion to illustrate.


    ¡°You should do it right away. The med bugs will invade the bones just past your elbow and attenuate them. Then they will degrade all the connective tissues in the area. Finally, they will cause the cells in a thin slice of your arm to self-destruct. After that is complete, it will be like removing a tooth on a large scale, requiring a little force, to finish separation of the bone. The remaining surface will be covered with an extremely thin layer of new skin at first, and all the nerve fibers will be capped and available for future connection. The circulation will be remodeled to avoid blood pooling in the area. All of this will happen more or less at the same time, except for the final apoptosis, so in about a day, we can pull your arm off.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t like the almost pleased tone in Anda¡¯s voice as he said that last phrase.


    She gave the command to start the process, and then occupied herself with another round of cultivation. This was the fourth time she was to cultivate, and she asked Jiannu to calculate the optimal ratio of vines and lotuses. (It turned out that dividing resources evenly was best for now.) After she finished cultivating, still lingering in a blissful state from the enveloping beauty and flow of becoming one with the Golden Flower, she checked her accomplishment.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>16,602 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>77%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>14%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>3 detected, 1 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    And then her count.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>16,602 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">16,602 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>2/hour (stable)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Minimum</td>


    <td>48 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>691/hour over 24 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She was so pleased that ¡®Urgent Action Needed¡¯ had been changed to the less stressful ¡®Action Needed¡¯. She was even more pleased to see that ¡®Time to Failure¡¯ had changed to ¡®Time to Minimum¡¯. It was only two days away!


    She remembered something she had been meaning to ask Jiannu.


    ¡°Why do I keep dreaming memories from Emily Choi?¡±


    ¡°Since you didn¡¯t have sufficient integration for full sensory engagement, the dream state works as an alternate interface. The brain is much more pliable when sleeping, and it only requires little hints and nudges to get it to engage the senses. The system is recovering sensory data and sharing it in an ongoing way. Would you like it to withhold the data from the logs until you have sufficient integration? For sight and hearing, that should be only a few hours. For other senses it will still be a day or two.¡±


    ¡°That would be nice. I liked the dreams, but I would rather choose when and what I see.¡±


    She paused for thought. ¡°Jiannu, do you remember Emily?¡±


    ¡°As I understand it, Emily had the system removed before Stage two, so the only memories I possess are those available to you. I do have additional data regarding her levels of Stage one integration, communications, external files accessed and so forth. Would you like access to any of that data?¡±


    ¡°Can I see her messages?¡±


    ¡°I have access to all messages that were not deleted by Emily. There are forty to her parents. Five to her mother, thirty-eight to her father, seven hundred and ninety-two to Jane Petersen, of which seven hundred and eighty have been deleted, three hundred and...¡±


    Lilijoy interrupted, ¡°That sounds great, Jiannu. Could you please make a list for me and put it on the Status screen, so I don¡¯t forget? Then, can you show me the last message to her parents?"


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Sent Message from Emily Choi</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Local Network</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: Text</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Title: This Sucks!!!!!!!!!</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Message Body:


    I know that you think this is for my safety. MOM. You guys don¡¯t think I know what is going on but I know that Dad wants to keep me safe from something like Sydney, and if that happened here you would feel really bad. I know that you let Atticus go to stage two and he¡¯s not even 18!!!! So you think he¡¯s more important than me? I guess the oldest son will always be more important. I don¡¯t understand why you have to take out stage 1 and give me some old system like Jane. She still can¡¯t even feel things in vr! I don¡¯t care that it could poison my body. They can fix that now anyway. I like my system. <Cries>. Except you really need to put in emojis. Dad I¡¯m talking to you here. This interface needs some work. Even Jane has emojis.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    This SUCKS!!!!!


    p.s. please change your minds.


    p.p.s I¡¯ll practice for a month without being asked.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy contemplated Emily¡¯s last system message to her parents. She hadn¡¯t learned much that was new, just that Emily had a brother, and something about Sydney. She wondered who Sydney was and what had happened to them. She also learned that she wasn¡¯t the only one a little underwhelmed with the system interface. She didn¡¯t even have any others for comparison.


    She emerged from her internal world. Anda sat in the seat across from her, eyes closed. She wanted to distract herself from even beginning to think about what was going on in her arm, so she pulled up The Lord of the Rings and returned to the adventures of Frodo and company. The scene with ¡®The Watcher in the Waters¡¯ had her eyeing every bubbling pool with suspicion as they drove past. This dead marsh seemed like just the kind of place such a monster would hang out.


    Soon, all thoughts of the outside world were driven from her mind by the treacherous journey underground, the doom of the drums, and then Gandalf¡¯s fall to the monstrous Balrog. At this point Anda awoke, due to Lilijoy¡¯s yelling at the text.


    ¡°No, no, no. That is not okay. Stupid book, take it back!¡±


    Anda raised an eyebrow and said, ¡°Met the Balrog, I take it?¡±


    ¡°Anda, tell me that Gandalf comes back. He can¡¯t be dead, he just can¡¯t¡±


    ¡°All I can tell you, my dear, is that you will never see Gandalf the Grey again.¡± He paused, ¡°Although, he has been known to make an appearance on the Inside from time to time. One of Guardian¡¯s sub-processors seems to enjoy the ¡®Ancient Wizard¡¯ archetype and will sometimes show up to aid those in need, or to provide mysterious quests for the lucky. Sometimes he manifests as a specific wizard, like Gandalf or Dumbledore...¡± he gave a little wink to Lilijoy ¡°...who I¡¯m sure you will get to know soon."


    He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Now that I think of it, perhaps this is the perfect time for you to try out the Inside. I¡¯m sure the next couple days won¡¯t be great, with your arm falling off and all. I think a little vacation would be just the thing. You¡¯ll need to come out a few times for food and necessities, but your system will let you know when. There are hundreds of low earth orbit satellites and high-altitude platforms, especially around the equator, and we are the only humans within a hundred miles, so I¡¯m quite sure the bandwidth will be more than adequate. Ask your system...¡± (Lilijoy had noticed he tended to avoid calling Jiannu by name), ¡°...and you¡¯ll be there in no time. There are many things I could tell you, but there is a tradition of letting everyone discover the beginnings for themselves.¡±


    He leaned back in his seat, slumped down and with closed eyes said, ¡°I think I¡¯ll get a little more sleep.¡± He settled himself. Just as she was turning inward, he mumbled, ¡°Say hi to the Gate Keeper from me.¡± Rousing just a bit, he went on.


    ¡°Oh, and just be yourself in the trials. That always works out best. Just remember, nothing will actually hurt you, but taking it seriously will go far. It¡¯s how my people got where they are. Primal and direct, that¡¯s the ticket.¡± His final words dropped in volume, almost as an afterthought.


    After making sure no further communications were coming from Anda, Lilijoy found the satellite link for the Inside. A whole host of satellites that had been encrypted before her registration to the Guardian network were now available, but this one was certainly the most exciting to her. After a ¡®Connecting to network¡¯ message and a warning: ¡°The Inside is a sensory immersion experience. Please make sure you are in a comfortable and secure area before proceeding,¡± she finally got to select ¡®accept¡¯.


    The initial impression was quite like her inner space. A dark disembodiment, then her senses slowly warming up to the new task, allowing the impression of soft white light and rushing water. A faint earthy scent entered her nose. The nose attached to her face, face and body, and she realized that she was all there, not just her awareness, but her, in the flesh. She took a moment to feel around, before she realized both arms were working. A little dance of joy followed, waving both her arms in the air triumphantly. Then she realized she had all her teeth.


    After a few minutes of jumping around and singing, ¡°I¡¯ve got teeth! I¡¯ve got my teeth, and my arms!¡± she heard a powerfully deep grunting sound. It was followed by another, almost a snort, and another in succession until the sounds piled on one another in a cascade of grunting snorts, all pitched low enough to vibrate the ground beneath her feet.


    Lilijoy looked around in alarm, initially seeing a babbling brook running through a lush green field, a large sandy dirt hill with stone pillars (supporting nothing in particular) around it, and a pale blue sky that looked almost like her first dream with Emily.


    The hill trembled, shaking itself in a way that initially made no sense to her preconception of its ¡®hill-ness¡¯. From the hill emerged another hill on top of it. She heard the chiming of bells, huge bells, and saw that a necklace of brass bells circled the new hill which turned out to be less of a hill the more she looked, possessing warm brown eyes the size of Anda¡¯s head and enormous protruding leaf shaped ears. The head (as it turned out to be) was elongated, with two round nostrils over a mouth of flat brown teeth. The nostrils were currently emitting a watery spray as the giant beast snorted with renewed vigor at Lilijoy¡¯s expression of bemused awe.


    ¡°Well hello little two arms,¡± the creature said in a voice worth at least two back-rubs of vibration. ¡°I thank you for the honor you have given me with song and dance, and for the lightness you have brought to my spirit. My name is Nandi, and I am the gatekeeper to the great master¡¯s work of creation. What may I call you?¡±


    After a moment to pull her jaw back up to the rest of her face, Lilijoy replied.


    ¡°Hi. Oh, hi. I¡¯m Lilijoy. It¡¯s very nice to meet you, and before I forget, I think that Anda said to greet you from him. He¡¯s a tall guy with black skin and his last name¡¯s Kukata.¡± She winced at her own awkwardness, but the huge creature didn¡¯t seem to mind.


    ¡°Huh, huh little Anda Kukata,¡± he chuffed. ¡°Fierce, brave and noble, that one. But kind too. Too kind for the mighty Maasai warriors. You tell him that Nandi would let him through the gate, if he ever despairs. Just tell him that.¡±


    The massive eyes blinked slowly and regarded Lilijoy. ¡°Do you wish to pass through the gate? I can feel a power in you, but I would offer you a caution. Those with no clan, but power of their own must be prepared for the hardest road. You will wage fierce battles with those who are established within, this I can tell already.¡± He paused, waiting for reply.


    ¡°Yes, I do want to go through the gate, but first I have a question.¡± She looked at him for approval before asking. He gave another chuff and nodded his head slowly.


    ¡°It¡¯s just. I¡¯ve never seen anyone like you before. Can you tell me about yourself? Do you have a family like you, or a house where you live when you aren¡¯t here? What¡¯s it like meeting everyone who wants to go Inside- are they mostly nice?¡±


    The rumbling, grunting noise of what she dearly hoped was Nandi¡¯s laughter began again, thankfully short in duration, as Lilijoy felt her new teeth might become loose and fall out all over again. Which made her realize another possibility. She reached up with two hands to feel her scalp, only to encounter fine threads of short hair, only a couple of inches long true, but hair. She began another little dance in place, vibrating with elation, barely refraining from adding ¡®I¡¯ve got lots of hair!¡¯ to her earlier song.


    Nandi looked on, excited. ¡°The dance of creation lives within you!¡± he bellowed. His form emitted light, poured it out like water breaking a dam, though Lilijoy felt no discomfort from the thick brightness. She watched as his form shrank, folded and formed into a tall man. Nearly a man anyway, for somehow, he kept the same head shape, and managed to find an extra pair of arms.


    He danced in a circle, moving his arms and hands intricately, his necklace of bells now chiming lightly as he flowed. His skin became pale white and was suffused with the same light that had poured out for his transformation, so that the color of his skin and the light merged and blended in a way that made him seem out of focus and diffuse. He broke into song, his voice now a deep baritone, no longer shaking the firmament.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got four arms and I am Nandi the bull of Siva. I have eight hands and my family is the universe. I have two horns and I live among the stars!¡±


    His song started as Lilijoy¡¯s but then turned and twisted into a wavering chant unlike anything Lilijoy had ever heard. As he came to a rest and finished the short performance, he went on to talk in a normal manner.


    ¡°I meet many people, all who come to the gate. To most, I am merely the door, and they pass through without a thought. To some, I am a momentary impediment, to be brushed aside like a fly. Few see me with joy and wonder, and fewer still honor me with song and dance, though those who know of me from before they come have been known to try to curry favor. Only a handful have seen me in this form, and only you, Lilijoy, have seen me dance.¡±

 Chapter 24: Forest Vow

    Nandi clapped his lower hands and rubbed the upper pair together.


    ¡°I hope that answers your questions, Lilijoy of the Teeth and Arms. I wish to commemorate this meeting with a boon.¡± He lowered his voice and glanced sideways at her. ¡°They are something of a specialty of mine, you know. Hmm, let¡¯s see... I can¡¯t help you in the trials. That could get us both in trouble; besides, you will shine brightly, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    He snapped at least three pairs of fingers. ¡°I¡¯ve got just the thing! Something I¡¯ve had for a long, long time; but you might say I outgrew it almost as long ago as I got it."


    He made a swirling gesture with his fingers, as if pulling something from the air. The glow of his skin brightened and flowed up his arm, coalescing to a brilliant point between his index finger and thumb. When he offered it to Lilijoy, she could see it was a clear stone, still holding a faint milky glow, glinting where the surrounding light caught in its facets. He took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the stone¡¯s warmth.


    ¡°Hold on to this for me, Lilijoy of the Teeth and Arms. It will stay with you at all times; you cannot lose it."


    She held it in her hand, and then realized that the stone was flowing into her palm. It disappeared beneath her skin until it showed only one gleaming facet.


    ¡°You will find its value later. Maybe much later, when you have grown in wisdom and power. Until then, please look at it and think of me.¡±


    He reached down to the largest of the bells that hung around his neck and took it in his top right hand. He gave it three slow shakes and then stepped to one side, ushering her forward with all of his arms as he bent a knee gracefully. Now revealed was a door of intricately carved wood, filled with rectangular geometric forms, formed between two of the stone pillars she had noticed earlier. As she stepped past Nandi, the door began to open, and before she had taken another step, she was pulled forward by a golden light pouring around its edge. She felt herself stretching, elongating and then she snapped forward, past the door into darkness.


    Actually, more like dimness. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the low light, just before wall-sconced torches around the room burst into flames, two on each wall. The chamber felt large to Lilijoy, perhaps four times the size of Marcus¡¯ bedroom in the factory-mine. Each set of torches framed a door, one per wall. The doors were sized smaller than most doors she had seen, as if they were made for her.


    In front of her was a wooden door with a huge white lotus inlaid upon it. To her left was a door of silver, inlaid with a large flower bud in copper, while to her right the door was rough stone with a drooping flower of black glass. Behind her was the door she had just been sucked through, still full sized. She had no desire to experience that again, so she turned her attention to the other choices before her.


    ¡°Old, young and in between,¡± she guessed. ¡°I¡¯m young, so maybe I should take that one... But I like the wooden door much more. Plus it has a lotus.¡±


    Done with her comprehensive analysis, she advanced to the wooden door, which thankfully did not pull her through, stretch or otherwise alter her being. Instead, it opened smoothly outward, revealing an outdoor scene, a meadow framed by a long wooden arbor covered in vines carrying bunches of purple flowers.


    She walked out into the intoxicating scent between the trellised walls and didn¡¯t notice when the door closed behind her. Emerging from the arbor, a path of white gravel framed by wooden beams led through an open grassy field towards a huge stand of trees.


    She skipped through the field, balancing on the beams, first on one side, then the other as her whimsy took her, at times alongside the path to feel the soft grass beneath her feet. The field was filled with purple and yellow flowers and flying, buzzing insects floating from bloom to bloom. She thought they might be the honeybees of legend. She still remembered stories from Timout of these long extinct creatures and their miraculous product.


    ¡°I wonder what honey tastes like¡± she said aloud.


    The buzzing around her abruptly escalated, which was a bit worrisome. She remembered something about bees stinging. Or was that butterflies? Either way, the buzzing had her a bit on edge.


    ¡°I would never steal your honey!¡± she yelled to no one. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even know it if I saw it,¡± she said in a softer voice. The bees didn¡¯t seem to believe her, if that was the reason for their agitation in the first place. Looking over the field, she saw a cloud of small airborne bodies moving in her direction.


    Then she felt her first sting. ¡°Ow!¡± She brushed her left shoulder where the pain originated. A bee dropped to the ground, leaving a thin barb and a tiny trail of slime on her.


    ¡°Hey!¡± she protested ¡°What did I do to you?¡±


    She looked down at the perpetrator and was about to stomp her foot down on it, when she realized that she had no shoes. She examined it for any signs of renewed stinging activity, but it just twitched and half-flew in an erratic circle on the gravel of the path.


    Without asking, her vision zoomed in on the bee, almost causing her to fall backwards in surprise.


    ¡°Jeez...when did I learn to do...¡± Her voice tailed off. The bee was clearly in distress, and now she could see its tail, ripped and leaking.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°Did I do that to you?¡±


    Forgetting her earlier desire to crush the bee underfoot, she picked it up and held it in her hand. Just then its brothers and sisters arrived in a howl of buzzing wings. She held up the injured bee and yelled into the buzz.


    ¡°I think your friend is hurt! I¡¯m just going to put him on this flower and go!¡±


    She knelt to place the bee on a generous yellow bloom next to the path, and at that moment the bees enveloped her. They landed on her everywhere they could find purchase, and on each other when they couldn¡¯t. She closed her eyes and mouth and prepared to run for her life. The massed bees were heavier than she could have imagined, and the countless crawling legs tickled and itched her skin. Though there was a notable lack of stinging going on.


    Deciding that staying still would be a better choice than trying to run with her own weight in insects crawling over her, she froze in place. Several minutes of tense standoff followed, with Lilijoy doing her best not to panic, while the bees decided whether stinging was on the agenda.


    Then the weight began to lift, as one bee after another left her body and flew off. Soon, all the bees were gone, leaving Lilijoy half crouched, still not daring to move. She opened her eyes after another minute, and saw that the injured bee was gone too. Sitting back on her haunches, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. Oddly sticky sweat.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    She looked at her hand and it was coated in a thick golden liquid. She tried to shake it off, and a few blobs flew onto the gravel. She gave it a sniff. It smelled sweet, floral even with just a hint of¡­ <citrus>.


    Wait¡­ where did that word come from? Did her system insert it into her thoughts? She went back to smelling her hand. She could detect the flowers from the arbor she had passed through. <Wisteria>, she felt it was called.


    ¡°Is this a new thing?¡± she asked aloud. ¡°I like it, but don¡¯t do it too much, or I¡¯ll get distracted.¡± She figured her smelling ¡®<olfactory interface>¡¯ had finally gotten started.


    ¡°Was that really necessary, Jiannu?¡± she asked aloud again. ¡®<Yes>¡¯ her system replied. Jiannu¡¯s voice piped in, ¡°Your integration levels have come far enough to supply identification of sensory impressions. In a day or two the information will be inserted seamlessly, you won¡¯t even notice.¡±


    ¡°The substance on your right hand is honey. This sample is composed of the flowers of wisteria, orange, red clover, purple coneflower and several others. Would you like to know more about the chemical composition and relative proportions of the plant derivatives?¡±


    ¡°Can I eat it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then no.¡±


    She tuned out Jiannu, rolled back and sat on the gravel and stuck a finger in her mouth. And then another. Soon she had most of her hand stuffed into her face as she moaned in bliss at the taste.


    ¡°Isso gooo,¡± she managed around her hand. Soon the honey was gone, though the stickiness was not.


    She gathered herself up and resumed her way down the path. At the edge of the meadow, the path diverged, one heading into the vast grove of trees <forest>; the other continued to her left around the edge of the meadow. She peered into the forest, shading her eyes against the brightness of the sun. She could see massive tree trunks surrounding the path off into the distance. She moved in, thankful for some shade, and savored the new atmosphere. It was dark. Peaceful. It smelled like... ¡°Don¡¯t do it Jiannu!¡± she warned, before a label could be inserted into her consciousness.


    She wanted this experience without labels and knowledge.


    It smelled dark, and musty and somehow spicy. The air was moist and cool. She spent at least an hour exploring the sensations of the forest. Crunchy needle leaves. Sticky, spicy sap running down the trunks. Massive rippled orange shelves sticking out of dead and dying trees. Little rounded balls emerged from the fallen leaf needles on the forest floor. They puffed out misty powder when pressed.


    She found a boulder half buried in the earth and marveled at the water droplets condensed on its surface, which was much cooler that the forest air. The condensation fed sheets of tiny green plants that turned into a whole jungle when she inspected it with her new magnified vision. It was a never-ending unfolding of glorious discovery; heart melting, eyes tearing beauty manifest in nature as it was supposed to be.


    She spent a moment hating her ancestors, who had destroyed this on the Outside, but that hate turned to resolve.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bring this back,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bring this back!¡± she yelled into the towering foliage.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bring this back,¡± she whispered in a solemn vow between her and the surrounding woods.


    Eventually, she asked Jiannu to help her identify the marvels all around. She learned about conifers, and moss, puffballs and shelf fungus. She learned about the <opiliones: common name: daddy long legs> striding proudly on the forest floor with their long legs and tiny bodies and the <isopods: common name: sowbugs or pillbugs>, little mobile pills placidly scurrying within the forest floor, and dozens and dozens of other amazing plants and animals.


    The birds were another revelation, from the haunting melodies of the thrush echoing through the tree tops to the enormous owl who eyed Lilijoy coldly before spreading soft luffing wings to find a perch farther from the riffraff wandering about the forest. She lost herself in all of it.


    Much later, after climbing a tree to watch the sun set over the forest, she was back on the ground making her way down the path. It was quite dark, which bothered her not at all, and the forest had come alive with new sounds, crickets and frogs, katydids and owls.


    Here and there were patches of glowing moss, hanging from the tree branches over the path. She thought she saw other lights hiding among the dark boles, but was never able to catch whatever it was, no matter how fast she ran. She never felt any danger of losing the path; she seemed to have an instinctive sense of navigation, whether thanks to her system, herself, or some new quality of the Inside, she couldn¡¯t say.


    After another half an hour of peripatetic travel, the path split, the left way continuing into the forest, the right heading down a steep hill into a hollow of fallen trees and rock. She saw threads glimmer between the branches.


    Spiders! she thought joyfully.


    Until she saw the spider webs, she had been considering skipping the descent into what seemed to be the beginnings of a cave, but earlier in the day she had seen an orb web shimmering in a beam of sunlight, its resident hanging still in the center like a tiny, fuzzy ball, forelimbs testing the silk for vibrations. She had watched it for a while, enjoying the pattern on its body <abdomen>, seeing it react ever so slightly to a passing breeze.


    Reaching out with a single finger, she had poked at the strands, only to see the spider rotate in place nimbly and retreat to the edge. It must know when something has come along that¡¯s too big for it to handle, she thought. Later still, she had found fuzzy, disordered funnel webs here and there among old fallen branches, and peered inside, hoping to get a look at the shy inhabitants. She found it amazing that these tiny beings could weave a house to live in that also served as a larder and a trap and was excited to see more of them.


    The path had washed out on the hillside, resuming as simple packed dirt at the bottom. She scrambled down the loose dirt and rocks of the hill, then among the branches of the long-fallen trees. Bending and weaving, she made her way, careful not to disturb any webs, until she passed under two boulders propped on one another, forming a triangular entrance just large enough for her to pass standing.


    The webs were thicker here, though she had yet to see any of the builders. She moved along the narrow passage, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she bumped into a desiccated bundle hanging from a thick web with her forehead. It looked like a rat <squirrel> had become someone¡¯s lunch. After that, she kept a closer watch for hanging squirrel mummies, and managed not to run into the next few she found.


    It¡¯s almost like decoration, she thought to herself, as more and more of the withered gray bundles surrounded her, hanging at a variety of heights, twisting gently for no apparent reason.


    When she finally found one of the living inhabitants, she initially mistook it for a black rock wedged up into the corner of the steadily broadening ceiling. Until its spiky legs unfolded gracefully and it maneuvered to watch her, head down, with four large and four small eyes pointed in her direction.


    It¡¯s really hard to tell where a spider is looking, she noted.


    With its <her> legs extended she was almost half Lilijoy¡¯s size; her body was perhaps head sized. A pattern of five thick yellow lines, radiating from a point on her back, extended around her abdomen, curving around until she couldn¡¯t see them on the other side.


    ¡°I wish you would turn around, so I could see your pattern,¡± she said to the spider, hoping to break the tension she felt in the strange standoff.


    The spider startled a bit, raising its body off the cave ceiling, as her voice cut through the silence, louder than she had intended in the echoing cavern. Lilijoy watched carefully, ready for any signs of hostility, as she wasn¡¯t totally sure she wasn¡¯t on tonight¡¯s menu in the spider¡¯s mind. The spider continued to move, slowly bringing its abdomen under and through the arc of its legs, until it was belly side up, the horned notch at the point of its belly <spinnerets> pointing directly at Lilijoy.


    ¡°That¡¯s better!¡± she exclaimed in pleasure, now seeing how the pattern¡¯s lines converged and coiled around each other into a complicated knot.


    She was less pleased when the thick strands of silk shot forth from the spinnerets and the spider leapt onto her faster than she could react.

 Chapter 25: Starcoil

    Anticipating the need to dodge did not give Lilijoy enough speed to avoid the web strands hissing out of the spider¡¯s body. She had just enough time to tense her muscles and begin to initiate a sideways twisting move as the luminescent white strand splatted against her body. By then it was too late to stop the movement, so she ended up winding the web around her body like a spindle as she half leapt, half fell to the cave floor. The spider followed through the air on the heels of her sticky missile; Lilijoy felt six legs land on her, absorbing the impact from the spider¡¯s body.


    With her two front legs, the spider immobilized Lilijoy¡¯s thrashing head and sank long fangs <chelicerae> into Lilijoy¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Lilijoy yelled at her system. She felt no need whatsoever to know the correct terminology for the implements of agony injecting venom into her neck.


    As if it was responding to her, the spider quickly retreated from Lilijoy¡¯s thrashing form and scurried back up the wall.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you,¡± she said. Or attempted to say. A numb tingling was rapidly spreading from the site of the bite to her face and jaw, so it came out as ¡°Ararara rarar oo¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s too late for that anyway,¡± came a girl¡¯s voice. Nearly a girl¡¯s voice anyway; it was overlaid with a raspy aspirated resonance. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since talking prey wandered into my home.¡±


    ¡°Oa ararara¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯m afraid that you won¡¯t be talking or moving again. We all need to eat, you know,¡± said the spider. ¡°I¡¯ll just stay up here and wait for the paralysis to kick in.¡±


    Lilijoy tried to look up at her with burning eyes. Unfortunately, her eyes were currently directed along the cave floor, so she had to content herself with glaring at a squirrel mummy that had been dislodged in the brief action. She could feel the numbing tingle spread down her body, reaching her fingers and toes.


    ¡°It gets lonely down here, you know. Even the stupid males haven¡¯t come by for ages. I don¡¯t mind too much. They really don¡¯t taste great anyway. But now I have a conversation partner!¡± Her voice brightened. ¡°I won¡¯t need to feed for some time, so we can hang out for a few days.¡±


    ¡°Uh oo,¡± said Lilijoy, uncharacteristically.


    ¡°I understand you are probably a little upset with me now. Just wait a few more minutes and you¡¯ll probably be even less happy. That¡¯s when the digestive enzymes begin to kick in. Can¡¯t chew with these things, you know,¡± she said, clacking her fangs <chelicerae> together.


    This was the final straw for Lilijoy¡¯s patience with her system. She pulled herself down into her mind space and yelled, ¡°Jiannu! Get out here now!¡±


    Jiannu¡¯s voice came to her, sounding apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry my dear. I¡¯m sure you are feeling somewhat stressed by your circumstances and I hate for anything to add to that.¡±


    ¡°Then make it stop naming things at stupid times!¡±


    ¡°I thought I had,¡± Jiannu said, clearly feeling defensive. ¡°Sometimes my control over the system isn¡¯t perfect. After all, I¡¯m ultimately just a reflection of you.¡±


    ¡°Is there any way you can help me out of this situation?¡±


    There was a moment of silence. ¡°I don¡¯t think I should help you. The trials are meant to be experienced completely. They are the Inside¡¯s way of finding out about you, your strengths and weaknesses, pains and pleasures. Anything I do will distort that and lessen the final results.¡±


    ¡°What final results?¡±


    Exasperation filled her. Was there ever going to be a time she actually knew what the hell was going on? Inside and Outside, she was constantly buffeted by the winds of her own ignorance.


    ¡°When the trials are complete, you will receive your character¡­that¡¯s some terminology left over from when the Inside was a game. The character will be based on who you are on the Outside, but many facets of the character will come from the Trials too. For example, if you face suffering with great fortitude in the Trials, you will have much greater resistance to damage when you join the Inside proper. Many Trial participants turn off their pain right away, and their characters come out fragile.¡±


    ¡°So, you are saying that the more I endure, the stronger I will be.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s certainly part of it. There are many other aspects, but I¡¯ve told you too much already. Now get back to your little spider playmate.¡±


    Before Lilijoy could express her feelings about that characterization, she found herself back in her body. Her Inside body. God, this was confusing!


    She had only been away for a minute, but she could already feel a warm sensation replacing the numb tingle. Warm turned to hot, and hot turned to burning agony consuming her entire being. She tried to scream, but it seemed that even her vocal chords were paralyzed, and she could only release air from her lungs in a hiss between her teeth.


    ¡°I think it gets better with time,¡± came the girlish voice of the spider. ¡°Once the nerves have died off and all.¡±


    Lilijoy remembered when a bee sting had felt painful. This was as if every bee in the world was stinging her at once, inside and outside. She wanted to writhe in pain, to release some of the dreadful sensation through movement, but even that was denied to her.


    Just as her mind was breaking from the pain, she felt a new sensation. A balming cool on her lips and tongue, then her forehead. Her right hand then began to experience the sensation as well. The pain in the rest of her far surpassed this small amount of relief, but it was an alternate sensation she could focus on to retain her sanity. But what on earth was it? Maybe her nerves had started dying first in those areas, she thought. Then she realized; could it be the honey?Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    All the parts of her experiencing the new sensation were where the honey had been: hand, forehead, mouth. Now her insides were feeling a bit less molten too, and she felt certain. The cooling balm seemed to be fighting a battle against the spider venom, slowly spreading from its original points. As it reached her face and forearm, its progress slowed. A new tingling sensation began from where the cooling started, as her nerves came back to life again. She could now move her lips and twitch her fingers, though she was careful not to let the spider see her tiny testing moves.


    Great, she thought. I can now poke the spider if it gets really close.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going down there?¡± The spider asked, as if summoned by Lilijoy¡¯s thoughts. ¡°Feeling all warm and melty inside?¡±


    Lilijoy could forgive an animal for acting in its nature. She would never choose to be devoured in a horrible way, but that was the way of the world. Animals ate each other. But animals that supplied a narrative to their meal were a step too far, in her opinion. As she gained back control of her head and more of her right arm, she decided to wait and see just how much more the miracle honey would help her. Progress was agonizingly slow, but she lost nothing from waiting it out.


    ¡°You are very boring,¡± the spider announced. ¡°Usually their eyes are leaking while they make those funny whistling noses from their mouth. You are just lying there. Are you dead already? You aren¡¯t supposed to die yet you know.¡±


    She began to climb down to the floor in a leisurely manner.


    Guess waiting isn¡¯t an option anymore, Lilijoy thought to herself. Remaining still, she bellowed, ¡°Stop, Spider!¡±


    Startled, the spider retreated up the wall.


    ¡°My word!¡± she exclaimed ¡°You certainly aren¡¯t dead! How did you do that?¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t quite sure where to take this from here. She started in the biggest voice she could muster, ¡°I am the voice of¡­¡±


    Voice of who? She said the first thing that came to mind.


    ¡°¡­voice of GANDALF!¡±


    The spider pulled all her legs into her body in surprise. ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense,¡± she whined. ¡°What is someone¡¯s voice doing hanging around in my meal?¡±


    ¡°I HAVE TAKEN POSSESSION OF THIS BODY!¡±


    ¡°But why? It¡¯s mine now. I caught it.¡±


    Flailing for some response, Lilijoy could only come up with the last passage she had read before mentally throwing her book across the room.


    ¡°I AM A SERVANT OF THE SECRET FIRE, WIELDER OF THE FLAME OF ANOR. YOU CANNOT PASS!¡±


    The spider quivered for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t like fire,¡± she said. ¡°Do you think you could find a different body to yell from?¡±


    ¡°NO. I LIKE THIS ONE.¡±


    Lilijoy winced inwardly at her lack of inspiration. Where was she going with this anyway? At least it was allowing the honey more time to effect its cure. Well, if stalling was all she could do, she might as well try to get the spider talking.


    ¡°WHAT IS YOUR NAME FOOLISH SPIDER?¡±


    The spider was silent for a long time. Then, ¡°My name? I don¡¯t really have a name. Never needed one. Are you going to leave any time soon?¡±


    ¡°NO! I SHALL NAME YOU.¡± She paused for dramatic effect. And to run the clock a bit more.


    ¡°YOUR NAME SHALL BE...¡± She paused again, drawing it out as long as possible.


    After a minute, the spider buckled, ¡°Are you still in there? Tell me what it is!¡±


    ¡°YOUR NAME SHALL BE STARCOIL!¡±


    The spider thought for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s a little on point, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°NO. IT IS A MAJESTIC NAME FULL OF DRAMA AND POWER.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ I¡¯ll think about it. Can I eat you now?¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s voice was very hoarse from maintaining ¡®Gandalf¡¯s¡¯ stentorian tone by this point. She needed something to drink desperately and was fighting the urge to cough. She could feel most of her upper body reviving, though her legs were still inert. She decided it was time to change things up.


    ¡°Ahem. NO, YOU SHALL NOT EAT...ahem...ME!¡±


    She thrust against the ground with her arms, quickly moving herself upright and then turned her head in what she hoped was a dramatic and creepy fashion.


    Fixing the spider with her stare, she said, ¡°I WILL EAT YOU!¡±


    The sudden movement, impossible to conceive for the spider, coupled with the threat of consumption, sent the newly christened Starcoil fleeing through a gap in the ceiling as fast as her legs would carry her. Dirt and a few small rocks dropped from the hole and scattered across the room in her wake. Lilijoy began to drag herself across the cavern with her arms. She would have gone out the way she came in, but the slope of the floor and the memory of the hill just beyond the exit conspired to move her toward a small crevice at the back of the room.


    Lilijoy had no problem with enclosed spaces, so she half dragged, half rolled into a horizontal crack at the base of the cave wall. She could hear the sound of running water echoing up through the narrow passage, and still feeling quite thirsty, she pulled herself through with all her might.


    I never realized how helpful legs are for pushing me along, she thought, scrabbling with both hands as she wriggled her body through a particularly narrow point.


    Eventually she popped through into the space beyond, and with a yelp, began rolling and tumbling down a steep scree slope. The clattering of the scree and the jarring violence of her tumble made it a temporary relief when she soared silently into the air. It was only when she slammed into ice cold water that she realized she had just fallen.


    She tumbled through water pitch black even to her eyes, not knowing up from down, the muted tumult of the water moving across her ears. Lilijoy had never been in water like this. Once, when Night¡¯s Safety had flooded during the rains, she had waded into the foul pool, but that water had smelled, and was oddly warm. This water carried daggers of cold, and was, as far as she could tell from the vast amounts penetrating her nose, quite pure. <Total Dissolved Solids: 165 Mg/L, no chemical contaminates detected>


    She choked and gagged and was carried along in the utter black, occasionally slamming into some rocky surface or another, before finally, somehow, being tossed up on a dark shore. She coughed out gouts of phlegmy water from her nose and mouth. Not so pure now, eh, she thought as she emptied the contents of her stomach, also mostly water, into the sound of lapping waves.


    Resting on the rocky shore and listening to the running water and the dripping sounds above her, she felt the remaining effects of the spider venom ebb and began to feel much better, though still bruised and vaguely nauseous. A message appeared in her vision, startling against the utterly black background she had been enjoying.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Message from Tao System</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Internal</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: Text</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Title: Body Maintenance</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Message Body:


    You have been in sensory immersion for over eight hours. Please log out for necessary body functions. It is recommended that you sleep for a minimum of six hours between sessions and maintain replacement caloric intake.


    You will be automatically logged out in two hours.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    With a feeling close to relief, Lilijoy logged out.

 Chapter 26: Echoes

    Surfacing in the Outside, Lilijoy took a few minutes to readjust to her ¡®real¡¯ body. The Inside had felt every bit as real as the Outside, and it sure had been nice having arms, hair and teeth again. It was dark outside the hovercraft, and Lilijoy was momentarily captivated by blooms of color floating eerily over the marsh in every direction.


    ¡°Swamp gas,¡± said Anda, who had noticed her stirring. ¡°At least this horrible place has one redeeming quality.¡±


    It truly was a beautiful sight, mostly wispy blue patches, with a few greens and reds thrown in, extending as far as her eyes could see, ghosts from the long dead jungle. Which reminded her¡­


    ¡°Anda, are there any real forests left in the world?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± he replied. ¡°More no than yes, I guess. The climate changed so rapidly that almost no large tree species were able to adapt. Some pacific island climates were less impacted, and I believe you can find a forest or two on those. In Asia, some wealthy clans put up enormous domes and tried to recover some of the old ecosystems, with mixed results. Classic old growth forests, like you must have encountered on the Inside, are completely gone, consumed by ice or another calamity. We are left with the bio-engineered trees that grow slowly and sequester carbon in huge amounts, making their wood extremely dense, the so called ¡®hard trees¡¯.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. So that¡¯s why there are hard grass and hard trees. ¡°I did find a forest on the Inside. Do you think they were really like that?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say for sure, but you can call up archived video from before Guardian to compare for yourself.¡±


    He changed the topic. ¡°How was your first day Inside?¡±


    ¡°Amazing! Nandi says hello. He says he would let you in the gate, if you ever despaired. I hope you know what that means, ¡®cause I have no idea.¡±


    Anda looked a little surprised. Then very thoughtful. ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered that,¡± he murmured. ¡°If Nandi allows me, I could complete the trials again for a completely fresh start. New character, new name, new stats. New everything. Of course, I would have a much better idea of what the trials are all about...¡± he raised a finger as he saw Lilijoy about to jump in. ¡°I won¡¯t talk to you about the trials until you have finished. Nandi would know, and it would only hurt the outcome.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what Jiannu said,¡± Lilijoy said with a pout. ¡°I have so much to tell you!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll look forward to the whole story. Maybe I¡¯ll even join you on the Inside. It¡¯s no small decision to give up the ten years of my life invested in my Inside self.¡±


    Lilijoy could see that Anda was troubled by the decision she tossed into his lap, but it sounded great to her.


    ¡°We could start together!¡± she exclaimed, trying to clasp her hands. When only one hand showed up to the party, she did a quick double take. ¡°I¡¯d better get used to the difference,¡± she said, looking downcast. She glanced at her left arm; nothing had changed on the surface.


    ¡°The Inside is a magical and seductive place,¡± said Anda. ¡°Many would choose to live there all the time, finding even eating and going to the bathroom too much of a burden. There are pods that take care of bodily functions, you might have noticed some at the bomb shelter. Those will allow up to a week of uninterrupted Inside time. I¡¯ve missed it dearly, though the Outside should not be ignored.¡±


    ¡°Will the Outside ever get better?¡± asked Lilijoy.


    ¡°So we are told. If you and I live for ten thousand years, we may see the ice begin to recede as the climate warms and stabilizes. Guardian believes in taking things slow, by human standards. I think the current projection for anything like return to the Holocene...¡±


    ¡°...is about one hundred thousand years.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t wait that long!¡± cried Lilijoy. ¡°I made a promise to the forest. I¡¯m going to bring it back to the outside no matter what!¡±


    Anda smiled sadly and shook his head. ¡°Well little one, we¡¯ll just have to see what we can do about then.¡±


    ***


    After some small talk, food and a brief, restless sleep, Lilijoy decided to cultivate. I bet there¡¯s a ton of resources by now, she thought.


    It turned out she was correct. Afterwards, she looked at her ''Status'' with satisfaction.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">


    STATUS: UNRATED


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>28,111 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>87%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>26%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>3 detected, 1 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She was particularly pleased with the progress of her integration


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>STAGE ONE INTEGRATION</td>


    <td>26%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>28,111</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Visual System</td>


    <td>48%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Auditory System</td>


    <td>72%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioceptive System</td>


    <td>38%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Motor System</td>


    <td>3%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Olfactory/Gustatory System</td>


    <td>16%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Somatosensory System</td>


    <td>57%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Spatial System</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Verbal/Linguistic System</td>


    <td>31%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Logical/Mathematical System</td>


    <td>8%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Emotional/Hormonal System</td>


    <td>4%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Myelin Enhancement</td>


    <td>.2%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Some of the sense categories had jumped huge amounts, no doubt due to the need to convey and model all the data from the Inside. She had noticed that even small amounts of integration could have striking effects, and she couldn¡¯t wait to figure out what she was capable of now. Her senses were constantly bombarding her with information, which fortunately she could ignore if she needed to. She also found that terms and identifications were coming more naturally to her, even when she didn¡¯t pay attention.


    She looked around the hovercraft to practice. The seat was a micro-structure cross-bonded aerogel material, with excellent insulating properties and incredibly low density. The canopy was layers of clay nanosheets and polymer, first discovered in the twenty first century. She was able to easily pull up the original scientific paper from the web archive.


    Web. Like a spider web! she noticed.


    As her system was trying to introduce her to the history of the World Wide Web of the twentieth century, she happily ignored it to focus on the lowest category of her Stage one integration, myelin enhancement.


    Instantly she knew that myelin was a brain component that wrapped nerves and caused them to conduct faster. Almost all long-term learning involved slowly depositing myelin on the correct neural circuits to make them more efficient. The integration simply took all the myelinated circuits and made them even faster, but at an extremely slow rate so the brain could adapt. It would be the last part of stage one to finish, lasting around five weeks with consistent cultivation, but as it improved, her speed of thought and reaction to stimuli would double or better.


    Pretty cool, she thought.


    After another meal and a short nap, she was ready.


    ***


    She shut her eyes and logged back Inside. The sound of the water picked back up where it had left off, hard rounded pebbles lay under her back. Reaching up, she could feel the sharp ends of stalactites, just a foot over her face.


    Now what to do?


    She decided to listen carefully for a while, in the hopes that she could get a better sense of her surroundings. She didn¡¯t want to drown.


    ¡°Ugh!¡± she groaned. Thinking of drowning reminded her that she forgot to ask Anda what would happen if she died. Well, maybe Jiannu would know.


    ¡°Jiannu?¡±


    ¡°If you die during the trials, you will respawn at a random, environmentally safe point within one hundred meters of your death. The repercussions of dying once or multiple times in the trials are unknown but assumed to have a negative impact on character generation. Checking on the public statistics, apparently 99.98 percent die at least once, five percent die once only, and forty percent experience ten deaths or more.¡±


    ¡°Thanks!¡±


    One possibility would be to throw herself in the river and hope to be carried somewhere she could see, or die and achieve the same result. She decided to wait on that.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    As she lay listening, she noticed an odd phenomenon. Every time she heard a particular high-pitched drip, a field of greenish light ran across her vision. At first, she assumed it was her eyes creating lights and patterns, as they sometimes did in total darkness. But when it came again, she paid close attention. The next drip created a field of green outlined, narrow saw-tooth spikes. The same pattern occurred the next time, slightly more vivid.


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure exactly what could be going on here, but it seemed to be related to the sound of the water droplet. She did her best to duplicate the sound by clicking her tongue. The spikes emerged again, fading slowly. She turned her head and clicked again, and a large opening appeared, framed by the spikes. With more clicking she came to understand that her mind was converting the echoes of the sounds into a visual simulation of the space. <echolocation>


    She stopped clicking and focused on the background noises, trying to connect them to her fuzzy green image. After a minute, there was a change, as if her system had learned the new ability. Her sense of the space around her expanded to a radius of about twenty feet, after which it became very indistinct. If she clicked her tongue loudly <active echolocation> she could ¡®see¡¯ farther in the direction she was focused on.


    She played around with this new ability for quite a while, ¡®looking¡¯ at the movement of the water (it was very shimmery and confusing), and making different sounds to see what new details would be revealed. It turned out that low pitched sounds didn¡¯t work very well, although she could somewhat see around corners and into the water just a bit. High pitched clicks provided the best detail and spatial map. After many minutes of clicking, yelping, yelling and yodeling, she knew that her best bet was an opening in the wall across the water. The water was only about ten feet across, but it moved fast enough to sweep her away.


    She took a deep breath and put her head into the water past her ears, listening for the bottom. It wasn¡¯t as deep as she thought, only a couple of feet. Her first attempt to wade across almost ended in disaster when she lost her footing and was nearly swept away by the rushing water. The bottom was smooth and slippery under her feet, polished by centuries of flow, though there were large stones here and there. She put her head back under the water, looking with her ears for boulders that could serve as an underwater path of sorts. She saw several promising candidates, though they were too far apart to walk on, or even jump to with any surety. She sat back down to think. If only she had a wooden branch or two, she could use it as a stabilizer, or wedge it between the boulders to help her feet from sliding.


    She reached up and felt for a stalactite. The ceiling across the caves had stalactites, so maybe she could go hand over hand, if they weren¡¯t too slippery. When her hand grabbed on, she found that it was grainy and smooth, but the end snapped off before she could put any real weight on it. She was left holding a pointed stick of brittle stone, about an inch across at its widest. The tip was sharp.


    I wish I had this when that stupid spider was grabbing me, she thought.


    With a new idea, she cast around for larger stalactites, and soon had broken off several ranging from two to three feet long. She used those to hammer on the base of still larger stalactites. About one hundred stalactites turned into a thousand fragments later, she finally got a big one to fall without breaking. Her shoulders ached from working over her head, and she had several bumps on her skull and bruises on her face from falling hunks of calcite, but she had avoided impalement (always a good thing) and achieved her goal.


    Reserving a three-foot-long spike as a walking stick, she rolled her largest stalactite into the water, where it became surprisingly light. She pushed it out until the far end reached a boulder close to her goal and placed the narrow end next to a boulder she could reach. The current pushed the stalactite up against both boulders, holding it in place. Then she waded across, using her walking stick as she leaned into the water, feet up against the side of her underwater ¡®bridge¡¯. Only a few steps, and she was across, now looking up at the opening where it sat a few feet above the water.


    Somehow, it hadn¡¯t seemed quite so high from the other side. Undaunted, she retrieved her ''footbridge'' and propped it against the side of the cliff. It was wobbly, but she was able to scamper up and grab the floor of the raised cave. She knew it went back at least twenty feet, and she was prepared to have a crying fit if it was a dead end.


    Thankfully, the cave turned out to be a corridor that receded farther than her strongest click could penetrate. She walked back to the entrance over the river and pulled up her new best friend. Which she proceeded to break into a few manageable pieces, the pointy end about eighteen inches, and another two feet from the big end. Now she had a dagger and a walking stick club.


    Another twenty minutes of clambering forward on the uneven floor of the corridor found her approaching a fork. There was an odd howling noise and her hearing started to work strangely, shifting and distorting. Once she got to the fork, she found the origin of the noise. One passage sloped downward. She could feel a warm breeze rising from its depths, carrying a smell of...sulfur. That warm breeze met cold air flowing downward from the other passage, generating a windy howl among the pillars and stalactites of the small room where she stood.


    Another choice. Warm versus cold. More caves versus fresh air and light. It was a tough call.


    What finally decided it for her was the prospect of warmth. She was still wet from her wade in the water, and the idea of getting even colder was not compelling. She sighed and began to make her way downward, planning on a quick retreat if she heard any drums.


    The corridor did not descend evenly; it twisted and dropped, narrowed to a slit and then fell away beyond. The rock was irregular and sharp in places, even for her tough feet. She was grateful for her walking stick, walking stone? It was heavy, to be sure, but felt solid in her hand, and kept her from several nasty falls. Drier air and increasing warmth dried her out, went full circle, and made her wet again from sweat.


    After a while of climbing down on increasingly jagged and fragmented rock <basalt>, Lilijoy became aware of a strange phenomenon with her echolocation. Her sense of the terrain ahead was somehow rippling; not only that, she was often misjudging the slope of the passage. It ¡®looked¡¯ much flatter than it really was, and closer too. When she faced back down the corridor, the opposite was true; it appeared steeper and somehow stretched. After some thought, she decided it must be due to the hot air blowing through the narrow cave, somehow causing her signal to rise as it traveled. She sat down and focused on the echoes from her tongue clicks, trying to get the hang of correcting for this effect, and realized that she didn¡¯t need to be facing a particular direction to ¡®see¡¯ it. Her new sense wrapped around her totally <360 degrees>.


    Once she focused on this, her system began to process the information differently, as if she was simultaneously looking down from above over her entire sensing radius, yet still firmly in her body at the same time. It was disconcerting while she was sitting, and downright disorienting when she began to move again, but she could feel herself slowly adapting.


    Soon it was actively enjoyable, watching the air currents flow past her. Her system had begun to paint different air densities and speeds in a variety of colors, so that she perceived the breeze coming toward her as a translucent red; where it passed her, it became a lighter purple, moving toward diffuse blue as it receded up the slope. Within the general colors were darker and lighter swirls of subtly varying shades. It was gorgeous. She could even blow air from her mouth and watch the stream of breath as it flowed into or against the outside air. Interestingly, her breath was just a slightly lower temperature than the air around her, or so she guessed from the subtly different hue.


    When she wasn¡¯t actively clicking, the ambient sounds of the cave and her footfalls painted a more diffuse picture, though she could still get along pretty well. She soon realized, in a painful way, that without clicking her tongue, she couldn¡¯t sense the sharp rocks at her feet well enough. Her cry of pain when she stepped on a particularly sharp edge lit the corridor like a little burst of light. Despite that, Lilijoy was enjoying the entire experience immensely. Her spirits were high as she sweated her way down into the increasing heat.


    After a while, she reached a place where her echolocation showed her a wall of orange and yellow swirling upward, about twenty feet in front of her. No matter how she clicked, she couldn¡¯t get a sense of anything beyond, though she thought that the floor dropped away sharply just before the barrier. At this point she noticed a dim red glow from a different sense, and realized she had light to see by.


    She had become so used to echo-locating her way down the cave, she hadn¡¯t noticed the new red light until she was at the edge a very large cavern. She stood about twenty feet back from a cliff overlooking a plane dotted with spots of glowing rock, and as her eyes got used to gathering light once more, she could make out a few more details in the vast space laid out before her.


    Jagged stalactites far larger than her little dagger covered the ceiling of the cavern. Huge clusters of vines dangled between the stalactites here and there, some almost reaching the floor of the cavern. The sense of scale was difficult to wrap her head around. Was she looking at a large cavern, or a mindbogglingly enormous one? All the features she could see came in a continuous variety of sizes, and it was hard to tell from where she stood if a jagged boulder on the cavern floor was the size of a hovercraft or the size of a house.


    After gazing over the scene for a while, she saw movement, small forms scurrying among the rock formations. She moved closer to the edge for a better view, hitting the wall of hot air her echolocation could already see. Her eyes watered and burned as she looked over the edge. Far below was a lake of glowing, bubbling <lava>.


    There was no way down. After minutes of looking until her eyes dried out, recovering, and then looking more, Lilijoy was sure of that. The cliff looked fine for climbing, but the magma pool at the bottom made that futile. She could try to make her way sideways along the cliff, and hope to find a lava-free area, but the cliff leaned out over the lava on both sides of her current location.


    Lilijoy had the sense that the problems she faced were not entirely arbitrary or environmental; this was a trial in a former ¡®game world¡¯ after all. There was probably a trick to it. She doubted that she was supposed to make her way back up the corridor, though she was seriously considering it as the more appealing choice anyway.


    Her sense proved out when she turned to retreat from the burning air close to the edge. The cave entrance she had passed through on her way to the plateau over the fire lake had vanished. Uninterrupted rock walls sealed her in in every direction but the cliff edge.


    Am I supposed to jump and die in the lava, so I can respawn down there?


    She was prowling around the perimeter of her prison, hoping for an idea, when she stumbled upon something odd using her echolocation. The enclosure was almost u-shaped, with thirty to forty-foot-tall walls and irregular stalactites coming down from the sloped ceiling. About fifteen feet up one of the sides was a large triangular patch of material that bounced echoes differently than rock. It appeared as a dark patch to her echolocation, but her eyes could only see a faint outline once she knew exactly where to look.


    Hoping it was an exit, she threw a small piece of stone at the shape. It hit with a dull thud and dropped straight down, and she could see the sound spread out through the material horizontally from the point of impact. Throwing several more stones produced the same results, so she decided to climb up and see for herself.


    Lilijoy was an excellent climber of trees, but she was less familiar with stone. This stone was crumbly and fragile, and she was forced to proceed very slowly up the wall, being very careful with the amount and direction of force she put on each hand and foothold. After a few mishaps, torn hands and feet and new bruises on her hip and butt from a ten-foot fall back down the wall, she was able to reach a hand up and touch the material. It moved under her hand, and this close to it, she could see that the entire triangular shape was actually mounted on the wall.


    It was made of some kind of tightly woven and stretched fabric <canvas>. She pushed it off the wall with her free hand, hoping to discover an alcove or passage behind it, but there was nothing but solid stone. It was attached somewhere near the top, but as she tugged at it, whatever mounting there was came loose, and the whole object tumbled to the floor, nearly bringing Lilijoy with it. She scampered back down the wall and inspected it.


    Okay, system, she thought. Now would be a great time for you to do your thing.


    After a few moments, she knew it was a <manned gliding apparatus 50%, ornamental wall covering 30%, sail 10%, other 10%>.


    You have got to be kidding me.

 Chapter 27: Cavern

    Lilijoy half-stood on the cavern floor, hands on trembling knees, the flaming remains of her somewhat improvised flying device scattered behind her, stomach queasy and senses scrambled. Her pulse pounded in her ears, sending dark waves of distortion across her vision. She caught her breath after a minute or so, pried her cold sweaty hands off her legs and raised them into the air.


    ¡°That was awesome!¡± she yelled at the ceiling.


    She had gained a much better understanding of the term ¡®death spiral¡¯ during her first attempt at flight but had somehow managed to come down just at the edge of the lava lake, before hot-footing it to a small hill that wasn¡¯t quite hot enough to raise blisters on her exposed skin. As the adrenaline slowly ebbed, she sat uncomfortably on her walking stone and appraised her abused soles. Charred callus, blisters, cuts and scrapes greeted her inspection, and she tsked once before putting her foot down. Nothing to be done about it now.


    She looked out over the expanse of previously melted rock, trying to connect it to her previous view from above. It was surprisingly difficult. From above, it looked like she could walk toward the far end of the cavern, avoiding obvious obstacles like half-melted stalagmite fields, small lava pools and the fields of sharp boulders. Down here, even tiny rocks had cutting points and edges <a¡¯a>, other than the occasional smooth and blobby stretch


    .


    ¡°Who came up with these names anyway?¡± she asked.


    <Indigenous Hawaiians>


    ¡°Huh.¡± What kind of nightmarish place did Hawaiians live, to go to the bother of making up words for different textures of lava? She wondered what had become of it, but thankfully not strongly enough to prompt more answers from her system.


    She ventured off her slightly cooler hill, only to retreat immediately. The ground was simply too hot. She thought about taking off her shirt and wrapping her feet with it but the thought of falling bare skinned onto the vicious ¡®a¡¯a¡¯ gave her pause. Her shirt <tunic> was made of some rough fabric <woven hemp> and was very sturdy, though without sleeves. It had protected her well against small cuts and scrapes so far, and she hated to destroy it unless she had no other choice.


    She leaned on her walking stone and looked out at the ground. Her echolocation didn¡¯t seem to be much help; she could identify particularly hot areas from the rising air currents above them, but smaller variations in ground temperature got lost in the mix. Still, it seemed her best strategy was to identify the truly dangerous areas and work from there.


    As she began her index of ¡®places to fry her feet on¡¯, she began to notice that they glowed a deep red color, compared to the rest of the ground.


    ¡®Did they do that before?¡¯ she asked herself. She couldn¡¯t remember seeing the shades of reds that now began to cover the entire cavern in her vision, trending orange now for the hottest and almost black for the coolest.


    ¡°No, this is new...¡± she whispered. Was she seeing temperature now? <long wavelength infrared vision> The specificity of her infrared vision continued to improve over the next minute, and soon she could tell where it was cool enough to walk just by looking.


    Overwhelmed by one new sensory ability after another, Lilijoy was less excited about all the pretty new colors arranging themselves in front of her than about the fact that she might be able to get to the other side of the lava field with both her shirt and her feet intact. She found a path that was largely dark in her new vision and began to hobble along.


    This is almost as bad as the Piles, she thought. Bad smell, painful shards of rock...why, they could be long lost brothers.


    She began giggling softly, wondering somewhere in the back of her mind whether the fumes were making her so light-headed and floaty feeling.


    ¡°Whee!¡± she squealed as she jumped over a glowing hot spot. The smooth lava on the other side of her jump gave way suddenly, only a thin crust over an air pocket about a foot deep. The edges of the lava slashed her ankle, but she didn¡¯t mind too much.


    ¡°Oh! Hey there. Who are you?¡± she said to the small black snake who stuck his head out from behind a rock. ¡°You have friends!¡± she announced, as several more heads popped out of nearby nooks and crannies. ¡°You have lots of fr¡­.¡± her voice tailed off as dozens and dozens of the creatures began to emerge.


    A bold one scampered onto a pile of larger lava rocks, revealing three sets of little legs along its long sinuous body. It wove its utterly black torso gracefully back and forth between the sharp boulders in short bursts, somehow able to transition between lightning speed and utter stillness with no intervening state. When it reached the top of the stack it looked at Lilijoy and gave a quick hiss of warning to her. She felt movement in her three-sixty sense, and when she turned her head, she was surrounded by a small army of black six-legged serpents.


    <?> was all her system showed her about them.


    She eased herself forward to avoid startling them, and they adapted to her new location instantly, maintaining a perimeter of about six feet. More hissing ensued. She clicked her tongue gently to keep an overview of the situation; they didn¡¯t have any body heat, so they were difficult to track with her eyes. From the overview level, the circle of lizards with her at the center almost looked like a big round eye, and she began to play with them, moving forward, then backwards, scrolling the lizards along the terrain wherever she went.


    She didn¡¯t feel any particular danger from them; more a hostile curiosity. Their teeth were small, though clearly sharp when she zoomed in to see better, but she doubted they could do too much damage to her without suffering many losses. After all, they were probably about half as long as she was tall, at least most of them.


    After a few minutes of this, the lead lizard (or at least she thought it was the same one), gave several short sharp hisses, and the pack vanished in an instant.


    I guess they got bored, she thought, just as something big and fast entered her awareness, coming up on her from behind. With only a split second to react, she crouched too late, and was violently half-spun into the ground. A large black tail streamed past her, bits of broken lava scattering in all directions. Even as the tail passed, the head was back for another try, as the much larger six legged lizard doubled back on itself. Lilijoy swiped at it weakly with her walking stone, luckily catching it in the teeth.


    The blow knocked its head off course just enough to spare her throat, but it still got a hold on her left shoulder and began to thrash her back and forth wildly, teeth digging in to her small muscles. She clubbed at it as best she could while being whipped back and forth, with absolutely no force of any kind behind her blows. She might as well have been petting it. While the front of the long lizard was occupying her attention admirably, the other sets of legs circled its body around to enclose her, pinning her arms at her sides.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    With its victim secured, it let go and pulled back its head, cold black eyes slitted nearly shut for protection.


    Perhaps it is going to talk to me?


    "Hi, Mister Lizard...¡± she started to say, but was cut off as the lizard whipped its head forward and tore out her throat. Her last view was of dozens of smaller lizards emerging from crevices and cracks, coming to join for leftovers.


    ***


    As her consciousness faded, a sensation of being sucked up through an enormous, though not particularly wide straw followed. After a brief period of disembodied blackness, she felt the process reverse, the particles of ¡®her¡¯ shot down in a thin stretched stream and, as she hit, caught up to one another into a clump she eventually recognized as her body. She felt very weak, and not entirely present in her flesh as she fumbled around in her head trying to figure out where her senses had gone. Eventually, she was able to round them up and straighten them out.


    She was still in the cavern, that much was obvious as soon as she could feel the boiling hot rock under her back. Wait, no, that was her chest. Either way, she felt an urgent need to not be lying down on a bed of piercing crumbled lava fragments that were slowly cooking her through her tunic. Groaning, though softly to avoid any more lizard encounters, she struggled to her feet and noticed with relief that dying instantly healed all her injuries. She couldn¡¯t see or hear any signs of a feeding frenzy nearby, so she figured that either time had passed while she in limbo, or she was too far away to sense the activity.


    A horrible thought occurred to her. What if her body disappeared when she died? That would be so unfair to the lizards.


    Also, they would still be hungry, which was not exactly good for her either.


    She spent a moment kicking herself for her carelessness. What was she thinking, jumping merrily through a hostile, dangerous landscape? She wanted to blame the fumes, but she knew that she was also just careless, just as she had been when she stayed out too late collecting cattails. That past carelessness had nearly killed her, and this recent bout had actually killed her, though she definitely preferred the kind of dying where you can still be alive later. She resolved to be more cautious for the rest of the trials (however long that was) and to make better use of her amazing new senses.


    She turned her infrared vision to her general area to find a safe way forward. Then she realized that she had no idea what forward was anymore. Looking around, she found a large source of heat rising through the air and assumed that was the lava lake. Her original goal was to cross the cavern as directly as she could. There were some interesting rock formations on the far side that she could make out when her vantage point was better, and they had become her target. Hoping that her best bet was to continue moving away from the lava lake, she set off, moving as stealthily as she could.


    As it turned out, walking on fragile shards of broken lava formations is not a particularly good formula for silent movement. First, she tried moving slowly, carefully setting her foot down in a way that moved the crunchiest bits to the side. This was quite successful, but she estimated it would take her about an hour to travel a couple hundred feet. Plus, her thighs began to burn from constantly holding her feet up. Abandoning that idea, her next strategy was to find a smoother surface that could take her in the right direction. She used sporadic tongue clicks to find a few particularly reflective areas on the ground, slow walked through the crunchy stuff until she arrived, and was then able to move at a good pace until the next crunchy part. Every couple of minutes she would freeze and silently scan her surroundings for signs of life, particularly the six-legged reptilian kind. In this way, she was able to cross about halfway without being eaten.


    The ground became cooler as she progressed, though it was a relative coolness, more discomfort, less agony. Several times she saw larger lizards lying torpid on rocks, basking in the heat. This must be a prime area for napping, she thought; just the right temperature if you happened to be a giant six-legged lizard.


    It wasn¡¯t until she was well past the halfway point (at least she hoped it was) that the cavern created a problem for her.


    Two lizards to the right of her general direction started up a disagreement of some kind. Perhaps they wanted the same basking spot? Whatever the reason, there was now a commotion not that far from where she crouched. The two lizards¡¯ large writhing bodies were throwing and crushing lava stones all over the place. This, combined with the loud hissing noises they were exchanging as they tangled, created an explosive crashing tumult that was probably audible across the cavern. The abundance of sound confused her echolocation greatly.


    While it was tempting to abandon stealth and sprint out of the area in the hope that the battle would distract other predators, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t shake images of her recent violent death from her thoughts. What if she ran, and the two lizards decided to put aside their differences to share a snack? Not only that, she noticed lithe forms moving through the shadows and rocks of the cavern floor, converging on the general area of the fight as covert spectators. Some were almost as large as the two combatants, and she truly wished to avoid their tender affections.


    As she crouched in indecision, she felt a sharp pain on the big toe of her left foot. Suppressing a yelp into a sharp hiss of her own, she looked down to see her latest problem.


    Attempting to grapple and encircle her toe while holding it with its teeth was a mighty foe about a foot long. The tiny six-legged lizard would have been cute if it weren¡¯t for the half-moon of her blood she could see welling forth around its muzzle. She reached down and pinched it on the neck, hoping to convince it to release its bite, but it held on with all its might, even twisting its little body to coil around and grab her wrist with its body and rear legs.


    ¡°You know this can¡¯t end well, don¡¯t you?¡± she whispered to it.


    It eyed her and doubled down on its thrashing bite attack.


    ¡°Fierce little thing you are. Not too bright though.¡± She eased herself carefully into a sitting position and considered her new accessory. Its long agile form recalled her flower-vines.


    Even later, when she had a chance to think through her actions at that moment, she wasn¡¯t sure why she did it. She found the empty space before action, softened the barriers of her mind¡¯s body concept, and reached to the small being that was now not distinct from her, but blurred and overlapping. It was her sixth finger again, and she was biting her own toe because she needed to, but she didn¡¯t need to anymore. It was obvious, inevitable that her jaws release, relax into inaction and be still...


    A second later, the spell broke, the little lizardling writhed from her grasp and disappeared into a crack in the floor without a sound.


    Lilijoy remained still. Somewhere in the background, two titans flailed against each other, crushing and grinding the rocks beneath them, but she didn¡¯t notice. It was as if her shared moment with the lizard, her intense desire for release and inaction had possessed her even more that the small being. She breathed as rocks scattered and massive bodies writhed. She observed as hissing and crashing caused waves of static to cross her sonic vision. There was no need to move, only peace in being...


    Until a huge mass of writhing vines came crashing down to the cavern floor on top of the two combatants, pulverizing stone and flesh, grasping, grabbing, tearing and crushing. A cloud of dust and pebbles ejected from the impact blew out on all sides, washing over Lilijoy and the rest of the skulking audience. The lizards fled, vanishing in the time it took for the first rocks to hit the floor, leaving Lilijoy to watch as the vines, or whatever they were, slowly returned up to the distant ceiling, holding two dripping clumps of meat.


    She almost didn¡¯t want to, but Lilijoy trained her senses up to the origin of the ¡®vines¡¯ and could barely make out a huge irregular body up among the stalactites. She saw fluid running down the vines, fluid dripping from an enormous orifice that was slowly opening in the body almost directly above her as it pulled its meal up to digest.


    Huh, she thought. I was not expecting that.

 Chapter 28: Tentacles

    Reaching the far side of the cavern became a much easier task when all the lizards were in hiding. Lilijoy used reasonable caution, but decided quick movement was a better idea than unnecessary stealth. The odd rock formations she had seen from a distance proved to be the crumbling remains of an ancient stone structure, composed of different rock from the surroundings. <granite>


    Whatever the building had been, it was now nothing more than tumbled walls and the odd plinth here and there. Remains of fallen columns and arches lay everywhere she looked, jumbled among the collapsed walls. She saw no signs of life, though she kept a wary eye, especially above her. The roof of the cavern was high, even this close to the wall. It looked as if whoever had built the structure had also altered the natural shape of the cave.


    She progressed through the jumbled stone blocks, headed toward a larger structure she could see protruding from the very side of the cavern. Along the way, she kept an eye out for anything she could use as a weapon. Her lost walking stone hadn¡¯t helped much, but it had delayed her death by a few seconds, and she knew that she would need to fight off more creatures, and maybe people too. Currently, she was carrying a nice sharp piece of granite that might be enough to hold off something small, slow and not overly aggressive.


    After climbing over mounds of rubble and the occasional large block, it was a relief when she reached an area with a bit more structural integrity. Here the walls were more than twice her height, and the ceiling had fallen more conveniently, often leaving a path down the center. She felt a bit like she was time traveling, remaining still while the buildings reassembled themselves around her. When she finally got up to the wall and the large structure attached to it, she was happy to see that it was built into the solid black rock, even carved out of the rock itself. Towering pillars and frames emerged from the side of the cavern as if the building was pressing through the stone, caught in the process of emerging on its way deeper into the cave. The carved structures had a mottled look from a facade of gray granite tiles that had mostly fallen and shattered on the floor below.


    Also carved into the stone wall were half sculptures <bas relief> of flames (on the bottom parts) and (on the top part), long crawling tendrils that she initially took for tree roots, reaching down to the flames. It was only when she made out the enormous fringed oval shape carved above the ¡®roof line¡¯ of the building, with a single eye and gaping mouth spitting out the tendrils that she realized she was looking at a representation of whatever it was that had killed and eaten the two giant lizards.


    ¡°What was wrong with you people?¡± she asked aloud.


    Lilijoy loved nature, but the creature she had witnessed nestled up among the stalactites made her stomach queasy. I¡¯m definitely not putting one of those in my forest, she vowed. She wondered if the whole point of the buildings here was to venerate the nasty hanging tentacle monsters, and if so, what possible reason there could be to do so.


    She decided that getting out of the cavern was by far the best course of action. Too bad she had to explore the temple of the ¡®nasty hanging tentacle monster¡¯ (her new name for the beast) to find a way out. Every time she thought about the ceiling lurkers, a new wave of creepy feeling ran up her spine, and the people who had decorated this elaborate complex were surely just as creepy.


    She carefully made her way up to the dark entrance in the carved building facade. Just in front of it was a raised, circular pavilion, with still more tentacles carved around the edges, reaching in to the center.


    ¡°...just really liked tentacles, I guess...¡± she breathed.


    In the center of the dais, half covered with shards of granite fallen from the facade above, was a large black stone box. <altar> It emerged from the dais, carved as a single piece from the black volcanic stone. One corner was cracked and shattered, possibly by the falling hunks of granite.


    Unable to help herself, Lilijoy crept up to the box-altar thing. It would have been as tall as she was, but she stood on a pile of granite that had rained down over the years and could see the top.


    ¡°Naturally, more tentacles.¡±


    These tentacles were carved into the rock like little channels that draped over the sides of the altar. More fallen granite obscured the center. She almost left it alone, feeling no need to see yet another bulbous body with one eye, which she was almost certain was what lurked under the fragments and powder. But out of some weird fatalistic impulse, she used her granite hand axe to sweep the pile off to the side, which revealed two things. First, the requisite nasty hanging tentacle monster body, eye included. The other was a piece of smooth dark glass protruding from the eye, almost like a handle.


    Great, she thought. They made it portable.


    Even a few weeks later, Lilijoy would look back on her following actions with a wince at her own naivete. She didn¡¯t know about curses, never seen an old movie where pulling on a mysterious handle has dire consequences, never even seen ancient cartoons like Scooby Doo. How was she supposed to know that, when confronted by a mysterious handle, protruding from a mysterious altar, in what is almost certainly a mysterious temple, you never, ever, even think of pulling on it or otherwise manipulating it for any reason whatsoever. At least, not until you have carefully considered the ramifications, made sure your running shoes are tied, and checked that your life insurance is up to date.


    Near-future Lilijoy was aware of such things. Current Lilijoy, on the other hand, was mostly curious about how a smooth piece of dark glass had managed to survive sharp chunks of granite falling on it somewhat regularly for centuries if not longer. She stretched over the top of the altar and gave the handle a good tug, assuming it was fixed in place. Upon finding it hardly-at-all attached, she promptly fell over backwards onto the tentacle-surrounded dais, holding in her hand a wicked looking knife. Not wicked in a good way either. It was wicked more in the foot-long wavy volcanic glass blade with groove for blood, red eye set into blade near the handle on both sides, reeks of ancient blood sacrifice way.


    Holding her new find up for inspection, Lilijoy was less interested in past atrocities perpetrated in the name of the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster, than in how on earth a glass blade of any kind could possibly be of any use. It almost looked like a shard from the Piles, though certainly better put together, and with more eyes than was typical of those. She gave it a few experimental swings, making a little ¡®whoosh¡¯ sound with her mouth to help reality out. She tapped it carefully on a granite chunk, and then with a bit more force. Seeing that the blade was still unharmed, she gave the corner of the block a really good whack with the side of the blade. Better to find out how tough it is now, she rationalized. This strike caused the blade to ring like a bell, a waving, crying sound that lingered in the air just a bit longer than it probably should have.


    From various locations high up in the dark recesses of the cavern, Lilijoy heard answering bell-like calls, pure, high and innocent as a sacrificed baby. She decided that now would be an excellent time to investigate the inner regions of the temple complex.


    Running for all she was worth, Lilijoy plunged into the slightly darker darkness of the temple¡¯s main corridor. As far as she could tell, no nasty hanging tentacle beasts were in hot pursuit, but seeing as she had just rung the dinner bell, as it were, she felt no need to stay as the meal. Impressions of more wall carvings passing by flashed through her mind.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Tentacles. More tentacles. Fire. Fire burning someone. Ouch. Oh they look okay...nope, tentacles. Man. Woman. Woman and tentacles... at this point she stopped looking at the walls entirely, hoping to preserve what remained of her innocence after the archived twenty-first century web experience. The only thing keeping her from a full-on sprint was the fear of outrunning her echolocation. That changed when she heard extremely high-pitched pinging sounds coming up the hall behind her.


    Hey, she thought, those sounds are absolutely perfect for echolocation.


    This thought was shortly followed by a realization.


    Oh crap. Those sounds are echolocation.


    Something big was coming up the hallway after her. As it gained she could hear slapping and squishing noises, like someone back there was hitting a table with a slab of wet raw meat. Repeatedly. Urgently even. It was only seconds before the first tentacle flew past her head, slapped the wall and stuck, and began to pull.


    ¡°Boost me, Jiannu!¡± she screamed, forgetting to worry about whether that would even work in a virtual world. She was hit by an immense wave of adrenaline, and her legs and arms began to pump faster and faster, as any sense of fatigue left her body. She began to pull away from the wet wall spanking sounds and flew through a large wooden door, thankfully rotted in place, that exploded in a shower of dry pulp and cellulose dust.


    She had just enough time to identify a spiral staircase through nearly slamming into the wrong side of it. She gathered herself and climbed as fast as her legs would carry her. Up and up she spiraled, her short legs barely making the steps. The sounds of slapping receded, and then a brief cherubic wail echoed up the stairs, conveying the loneliness and desolation of a thousand dead Amazonian swamps.


    ¡°Why are you running?¡± It seemed to convey. ¡°I love, love, love you and only you forever. Please come back and play...¡±


    Lilijoy hoped that was just her imagination talking.


    ***


    According to her count, Lilijoy had now covered a roughly infinite number of steps, for approximately ever. When she finally reached the heavy metal door at the top, she nearly ran into it.


    It was barred. From the other side. Her boost was long gone, so she contented herself with slumping on the top step and feebly pounding on it with her free hand, while softly cursing. After that she cried, and then pounded some more. She was just about to see if her new evil dagger could cut steel, when there was a commotion of some kind on the other side of the door. Did she hear hushed voices arguing?


    ¡°I¡¯m trapped in the stairs!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°I¡¯m really nice!¡± she half-yelled.


    ¡°At least I don¡¯t have tentacles,¡± she said.


    There was a thunderous clanging sound as the bar on the other side dropped on to the floor. The door opened an inch and then stopped. She could now clearly hear voices beyond.


    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± one of them said, while simultaneously another said, ¡°Oh god, we¡¯re going to die.¡±


    She might have also heard a faint, ¡°Mommy¡± in the background. She cautiously pushed at the door, forcing the heavy metal bar along the floor where it had fallen. She squeezed around it as soon as she could and came face to face with the most terrified ten-year-old boy she had ever seen. His knees shook, and his face was white as a sheet.


    ¡°Please, eat my friends instead,¡± he said courageously.


    ***


    Sometime later, Lilijoy was sitting in front of a fire built in the courtyard of Fort Groveship, or as the boys liked to call it, ¡®Fort Oh shit¡¯ or alternately ¡®Fort Go shit¡¯. Lilijoy didn¡¯t really get the joke, but they seemed to think it hilarious. She had also learned that the trip to Fort Groveship was a rite of passage for local children when they turned ten.


    Accompanied by the Sargent at Arms for the town guard, who evidently had something of a passion for the annual trip, the ten-year-old boys and girls would ride by wagon for two days, camping out under the stars, rain or shine. Next, they would hike for a full day in leather armor while carrying weapons and supplies until they reached the keep, an old borderlands outpost abandoned when the borders moved to a better neighborhood. The climax of the expedition was the night the children stayed in the old fort by themselves, setting up camp in the courtyard. There, they were responsible for taking care of themselves without any adult help or supervision. The next day, the Sargent would collect them, and they would start the long hike back to the wagons.


    Needless to say, older children who had already completed the excursion delighted in telling tall tales of wolves, goblins, the terrifying ghosts of haunted keep, and above all, the ¡®Door That Must Never Be Opened¡¯.


    Naturally, the tradition was to open the door.


    Every year, the children would work to dislodge the heavy iron bar, and then take turns daring each other to go down the stairs. Whoever went the farthest was acclaimed ¡®A huge idiot¡¯ by the rest, but secretly envied. In truth, no one ever got farther than the first turn of the stairs, due to the other tradition, arrived at independently, of going just beyond the first turn of the stairs and then waiting there, while later pretending they had gone much farther. This satisfied Lilijoy¡¯s curiosity about the surprisingly low number of children devoured by nasty hanging tentacle beasts.


    Lilijoy¡¯s arrival had provided a new twist to the whole situation. When the children had heard pounding on the door, that fit well with the frightful tales cooked up by previous generations. They had been told of ghosts who haunted the deserted stair, so it seemed natural to hear banging and wailing. It wasn¡¯t until she pushed the door open and emerged that the kids had experienced true terror. There were currently several pairs of breeches drying by the fire to testify to that.


    Once all the confusion about who was eating who had been settled, the children had excitedly welcomed the brave explorer, plying her for tales of her exploits. It was all very strange to Lilijoy, who had never interacted with a group like this before. She decided to pretend she was someone like Anda, or Marcus, who might actually know what they were doing.


    There were nineteen of them on the trip (they were very certain about the number, being under strict orders to count off every hour). The Sargent was off in the woods somewhere, pretending not to be keeping a close eye on the children. They seemed entirely unconcerned with Lilijoy''s small stature, probably assuming she was half gnome or something. Her dagger had entranced them; none of them had ever seen a glass weapon.


    ¡°Bet its magic.¡± said a large dull boy who¡¯s name Lilijoy kept forgetting. Abard? Afner? She was pretty sure it started with ¡®A¡¯ and had two syllables. She was also pretty sure that ten-year-olds weren¡¯t supposed to be almost six feet tall.


    ¡°How would you know?¡± asked Lilijoy.


    ¡°¡¯Cause its shiny. And it don¡¯ break¡±


    She had been hoping for a slightly more in-depth analysis.


    ¡°Does anyone know anything about weapons?¡± she called out. Unsurprisingly, nineteen hands or more raised as they all began to talk at once. After settling that commotion, Lilijoy decided that getting her information from children a couple years younger than her was not a great strategy.


    ¡°When does your Sargent come back?¡± she asked a little girl who wasn¡¯t much taller than her.


    ¡°Tomorrow morning¡± she said, ¡°a few hands past first light. My Ma¡¯s a blacksmith.¡±


    That seemed like a bit of a non-sequitur to Lilijoy. ¡°That¡¯s nice,¡± she said.


    The girl went on, ¡°So, you know, I know about weapons and stuff. A little. She let me make my knife.¡± The girl pulled out a piece of metal that was, arguably, a knife with a wooden handle.


    ¡°What do you think of my dagger?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s scary.¡±


    Great, thought Lilijoy, another Ander, (or was it Alden?). Then the girl kept speaking.


    ¡°It¡¯s scary cause it wants our blood.¡±


    That was a little unsettling. ¡°What¡¯s your name? And how do you know that?¡±


    ¡°My name¡¯s Peliatha, but everyone calls me Hatha. That¡¯s a bad knife. It¡¯s not for workin¡¯, not for fightin¡¯. That¡¯s a knife just for slicing up throats. It¡¯s going to bring bad luck.¡±


    Lilijoy was preparing to refute that when a large woman in leather armor staggered into the courtyard, several short arrows sticking out of her thighs and back. She made it to the fire and collapsed.


    Next to it, thankfully.

 Chapter 29: Scouts

    ¡°Sar Noda!¡± several children cried at once.


    They ran to her and began to treat her wounds. Abner (or was it Aster?) helped turn her on her side, Briegthon, the boy who had met her first at the ¡®Door That Must Never Be Opened¡¯, ran to get bandages. Others fetched water, blankets and other items that Lilijoy didn¡¯t recognize. It was an impressive display of teamwork and competence.


    They really whip these kids into shape early, she thought. She felt a little bad for looking down her nose at the group earlier. She wouldn¡¯t know what to do in this situation, other than look for med bugs.


    Soon, the Sargent regained consciousness. She ignored her injuries and started barking orders to the children.


    ¡°Andrew, close the main gate. Get Simon and Tralia to help you with the portcullis. It¡¯s rusty as hell. Briegthon, you and your friends get armed and armored. Who has a bow?¡±


    ¡°Me, Sar,¡± rang out around the fire.


    ¡°Get your butts in leather and get up on the walls. Heads down and no shooting unless they¡¯re knocking on the gates. I mean it Berthude!¡±


    This was directed at a gangly redhead who slumped her shoulders in response.


    ¡°Hatha, Logan and Golden, strike the fire. Dirt only, no water.¡± She slumped for a few seconds, then resumed, ¡°Bosta, Toad, Marga, get your butts to the armory and pull out everything that still has metal in it. Bring it to the keep entry and start sorting crap from total crap. We need spear and shield most.¡±


    She looked over and her eyes found Lilijoy.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± she said. Her mouth moved to say something else, but her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed again.


    The courtyard was a hive of activity, children running purposefully to their appointed tasks, finding shovels, donning armor, stringing bows. Lilijoy stood there feeling a bit lost.


    ¡°Does anyone know what we are preparing for?¡± she yelled over to Hatha, Logan and Golden, who were busy scattering the flaming logs of the fire and shoveling dirt over the embers.


    ¡°Probably goblins!¡± Logan or Golden shouted over his shoulder without pausing from his frantic shoveling. ¡°What do we do next?¡±


    Lilijoy stared at him blankly. Why did he just ask her that?


    ¡°I¡¯ll check on the Sargent,¡± she said.


    She jogged over to where Sargent Noda lay awkwardly, arrows protruding, her face flushed and mottled. Lilijoy could tell that her body temperature was high, but oddly distributed, with cold and hot patches. She bent down and listened at her chest. The heartbeat was fast and weak; Lilijoy was at a loss for what to do. System, she thought, a little help please?


    Suddenly, Lilijoy had a feeling she should check Sar¡¯s eyes. She pulled up an eyelid and zoomed in a bit,


    . She noted her patient''s hands and arms were shaking, as if she was shivering <tremors>. <likely hemlock or equivalent>.


    With that, Lilijoy somehow knew she had to remove the arrows immediately. The children had been well trained and knew not to disturb a wound they didn¡¯t understand, but if those arrows didn¡¯t come out, the poison would kill the Sargent in an hour or less. She rolled her over to focus on the highest arrow in her back. When she took her evil knife and cut the woman¡¯s armor away from the wound, she could see a black tar on the shaft.


    It didn¡¯t seem as if the arrow was too deep, but she didn¡¯t know what shape the head was. Her vision didn¡¯t help, so she tried different clicks and hums to echolocate through the flesh until she had a very rough idea of what the arrow looked like. She turned her head, to see Hatha, Logan and Golden watching her with confused expressions. She realized that clicking and humming loudly into someone¡¯s back was probably not a form of medicine commonly practiced. Ever.


    She decided to imitate the Sargent. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was supposed to be doing for this part of the Trials, but...


    ¡°Hatha, get a bandage. Logan...¡± she watched carefully to see who responded to the name ¡°...you are going to pull this arrow out. Just pull steady and straight. Golden, get more bandages.¡± She shamelessly copied the Sargent¡¯s way of speaking.


    Logan hesitated, on the verge of tears. ¡°We¡¯re not supposed to pull out an arrow without a medic or a healer,¡± he said. ¡°It might kill her!¡±


    ¡°Poisoned arrows will kill her faster. I would do it, but long arms and a strong back are needed to do it fast. I might pull it out at an angle, or not be strong enough to get it out.¡± It wasn¡¯t flattery, as Logan was almost a foot taller than she was. ¡°Now do it!¡± she barked.


    He clenched his jaw and pulled, probably a bit faster than he should, but the arrow popped out.


    ¡°Let the wound bleed!¡± Lilijoy hated pretending to be an authority, but at the same time loved working with her system. The knowledge was entering her mind so seamlessly she couldn¡¯t even tell it wasn¡¯t hers.


    I wonder how much of who we are is what we know? a little voice in the back of her mind said. Lilijoy stuffed the thought away for later. She had arrows to remove.


    She moved to the next arrow and scanned. This one was in the meat of the Sar¡¯s thigh and much deeper, any poison on the shaft completely encased in flesh. The arrowhead had a hook to it and lay close to the <femoral artery>.


    ¡°Going to push this one,¡± she knew to say. ¡°Your turn Golden.¡±


    Golden looked terrified as she handed the bandages to Hatha and approached. She grabbed the arrow around the crude fletching and pushed at it.


    ¡°Harder, Get your weight over it! And be careful not to push the fletching into the wound.¡±


    Golden gathered herself and straddled Sargent Noda. With one sudden motion she leaned on the arrow, and with a ripping sound, the arrowhead emerged from the front of the Sar¡¯s leg. Then she quickly jumped off and ran a few steps before losing her dinner noisily. Ignoring this, Lilijoy severed the shaft just in front of the fletching with her evil knife and pulled the rest of the arrow through.


    Just as she finished, a boy approached and said, ¡°Sir, the enemy has been sighted. Two hands or more approaching the back side.¡± He was trying to talk like a soldier, but his trembling voice gave away his fear.


    ¡°Hatha, Logan, Golden finish the job here. Push the next one, let it bleed, then bandage as tight as you can. Keep pressure on the back wound.¡± She turned to the new boy. ¡°Run to the gate as fast as you can. Get the portcullis up a foot, no more.¡± The boy looked at her blankly. ¡°Figure it out! Now go!¡±


    She watched as he turned and ran to the gate house, then she started jogging to the nearest stairs up to the wall, looking for the archers. The idea to open the portcullis just a bit had popped into her mind, whether inspired by her reading or her system, she couldn¡¯t tell. Or maybe it was just her own idea? Whatever its source, she hoped she wasn¡¯t making a huge mistake.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ***


    The goblin scouts moved through the brush that had grown up in the formerly cleared area around the old human building. Spread out but maintaining a line of contact, they slowly moved down the wall, looking for an entrance. The wounded human had fled here for safety, but they had tracked her easily and were looking forward to looting the body. It was too bad the meat would be spoiled by the poison on their arrows, but that was the cost of killing a human warrior with no losses on their side. A quick scratch on the cricket let each other know to hold position. Someone must have spotted something. Soon an all-clear sounded, and the scouts moved forward again.


    They rounded a corner and continued until they hit an open area, the main road into the fort entrance. Back against the wall, the advance scout edged along until he found the gate. There was no door, and the portcullis was sitting a foot off the ground. Entry would be easy. There was a lingering scent of wood smoke in the air, and the smell of humans. More than one.


    The call pattern for regroup at distance sounded and the scouts moved off to a safe location to discuss the situation.


    ***


    From the wall above, Lilijoy watched the glowing bodies of the ten scouts move below. It was funny to her, watching them move so carefully, certain in their stealth, when she could see their crouching forms like beacons in the night. Unfortunately, they seemed to be otherwise competent, moving in coordinated patterns, signaling each other with some device that sounded like a night insect. <cricket>


    She wasn¡¯t sure why they had withdrawn, though she guessed they might have a sense of smell like hers. She could easily smell the sweat and fear in the air from multiple individuals, and the smoke-scent from the fire overlaid the area like a heavy blanket. She was disappointed they hadn¡¯t taken the bait of the open portcullis. Still, the night was young.


    She glanced back down to the courtyard and found the form of Sar Noda lying next to the warm area where the fire had been. From up here, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell much, just that the Sargent lived and all the arrows had been extracted. Her system sense told her that the odds of the woman living past a day were very small. There was no cure for hemlock on the Outside. The Inside had different ways to cure things, she figured, maybe magic? But Lilijoy didn¡¯t think a random healing wizard would wander into the fort at this point.


    Scanning the wall, she saw the six children she had assigned to the gatehouse towers waiting quietly. The other two were poised on either side at arrow slits, ready for the goblins to attempt entry. It had been a good plan, and she sighed in frustration.


    She looked over at Sar Noda and had an idea.


    ***


    The goblins were in a circle, discussing their next actions, when a fresh smell of fire came wafting from the fort. The sound of weeping and lamentation drifted over to their location. The goblins looked at each other and smiled. Soon, they had their plan and their orders.


    They split into two groups and filtered over to either side of the gate. Looking around the edge of the stone, a fire burning in the center of the courtyard was clearly visible, as were several small figures huddled around a body, weeping. Human children.


    Stupid humans, the fire would destroy what little night vision they had. Here was a chance for unspoiled meat!


    ¡°No poison,¡± the leader hissed. ¡°Sneak in and surround.¡±


    Another gestured with his bow, ¡°Let¡¯s shoot them from here, through the grate.¡±


    The leader spat in disgust. ¡°Tunnel too long. No range.¡±


    There was a corridor about fifteen feet long between the portcullis and the courtyard. Clearly the archer disagreed, but he knew better to argue with the leader.


    ¡°Go two by two, two stay back with bows.¡±


    Two goblins rolled under the portcullis and smoothly regained their feet, followed by two more, and then two more. The first pair had already made their way about ten feet down the narrow-arched hall, pressed against the wall, when arrows shot from the walls on either side and the portcullis began to close. At the same time, arrows began to rain down from the tops of the protruding gate towers, targeting the four remaining on the outside.


    ¡°Ambush!¡± several yelled as the first round of arrows took their toll. One of the goblins in the hall took an arrow to the throat, another escaped injury when the inexperienced archer grazed the side of the arrow slit, sending a pinwheeling shaft across the hall. The rest of the goblins inside undertook a variety of uncoordinated actions. The two closest to the descending portcullis quickly rolled back the way they came, while the other three broke into a run for the open space of the courtyard.


    ***


    Lilijoy watched with satisfaction as her plan unfolded. She stood next to the entrance to the courtyard, against the wall and out of sight of the goblins in the hall. She heard the pelting feet and hissed, ¡°Now!¡±


    Andrew, as his name had turned out to be, and Logan swung light spears from either side of the gate at goblin knee level. Andrew¡¯s spear encountered a running goblin with perfect timing, catching him across the legs and downing him on the spot. Logan¡¯s timing was less perfect. The goblin dodged around the spear tip and continued at full speed into the courtyard. However, the goblin running on his heels couldn¡¯t see the haft swinging toward him and tripped into a long sprawling fall.


    In a blink, Lilijoy was under Andrew¡¯s outstretched arms and around the corner, attacking the first downed goblin. The evil blade sliced across his spine easily, sending an arc of blood spraying onto the air. Berthude fired from her post next to the arrow slit, aiming low in case she missed, and caught the running goblin in the calf. The three children at the fire pulled out spears whose points had been in the flames and stood ready, defending Sar Noda.


    The goblin who had sprawled into the courtyard gained his feet and considered his options as he pulled a bone knife from his belt. They were:


    A: Three children with red hot spears facing him with fierce expressions.


    B: Five other children converging from the sides of the courtyards with spears and swords (the swords were wooden, but the goblin can be forgiven for failing to notice.)


    C: A three and a half foot tall, short haired girl carrying a bloody foot long evil glass blade which emanated an aura of immense satisfaction.


    He chose all of the above, or rather it was chosen for him and his arrow ridden compatriot too, when the children converged on both of them.


    It was a small miracle that the children managed to avoid hurting each other. It would have been a very large miracle if either of the goblins had survived, or even resembled goblins by the time the children were done. Unfortunately for the goblins, the universe only had a small miracle to dispense, and so the combat in the courtyard rapidly concluded in spectacularly bloody fashion.


    Outside the gates, the archers on the towers were having trouble to firing downward at an awkward angle, particularly as they were shorter than the original design specifications of the tower. They manage to bring down three of the six, and injure one more, before the goblins fled into the night. Turning to survey the scene in the courtyard, the archers on the tower cheered in victory, a cheer that was soon taken up by the rest of them, including Lilijoy.


    Her plan had worked! She was a little disappointed that three had escaped, as she worried they might run off to fetch more, but now they had more bows and arrows and she had confidence they could hold out from the walls if they had to.


    Cleanup followed. Bodies were dragged, blood was covered up by dirt and ashes, loot was plundered. The cricket devices, small hollow wooden boxes with carved ridges were particularly coveted, and Lilijoy had to split up fights more than once before a system of choosing by lot was implemented.


    The final tally included six small bows, seventy-two arrows (ten were poisoned), three disturbing bone necklaces, two less disturbing bone necklaces, a copper bracelet, many bone knives, bone awls, unidentifiable bone tools, fire starting materials, bone carved beads, bone totems, shiny rocks, a bone cup, and even an entire bone place-setting. Everyone was very satisfied to have a variety of goblin-carved bone items to commemorate their first battle.


    What concerned Lilijoy was the relative lack of food, water and other such traveling amenities. Surely a band of goblin scouts in human territory far from their own lands would be carrying food and water? Possibly they were just very good at living off the land, but she thought it likely that they were performing short range scouting missions from a larger group. She needed to talk with Sar Noda, but the woman was stubbornly unconscious and likely to remain so.


    Lilijoy contemplated leaving the Sargent in a room of the keep and trying to bring the others back to civilization, but the protective enclosure of the old fort was not easily abandoned, and in the end, she decided it would be more dangerous to run into goblins outside its walls. If there weren¡¯t any more goblins in the area, then staying a few days wouldn¡¯t hurt either. Presumably, the wagon drivers would notice when no children and no Sargent returned, and send for help.


    That decided, she organized a watch for the remainder of the night, got everything settled down, and logged off.

 Chapter 30: Sunrise and Moonlight

    So close! Lilijoy couldn¡¯t believe how quickly her flowers were multiplying. After she logged out, ate, and got some sleep, her most recent cultivation had once again nearly doubled her count.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: UNRATED</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>48,237 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>81%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>40%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>3 detected, 1 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>None</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She was beginning to understand why Guardian would be so worried about exponential growth. Only five sessions, and she was almost to the minimum recommendation, which had seemed so far away so recently. She pulled up the specifics to savor them...


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>48,237 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">48,237 : 50,000 minimum recommended</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>2/hour (stable)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Minimum</td>


    <td>80.25 Minutes</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>1,318/hour over 24 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Eighty minutes and fifteen seconds. She was torn between waiting and cultivating as soon as she could or logging back Inside. According to Anda, no time passed on the Inside when she logged out of the trial, because she was the only Outside person involved. After the trial, when she was in the Inside with everyone else, time would have to run whether she was in or not. He then mumbled something about different ¡®time zones¡¯ for certain types of mental augmentation where subjective time could be more fluid, but she didn¡¯t really follow him and stopped listening.


    ¡°Jiannu, how soon can I do my next cultivation?¡±


    ¡°We are so close, aren¡¯t we?¡± she said. ¡°Unfortunately, we still need to wait for the components to be gathered. I wouldn¡¯t recommend any earlier than six hours, or the system may get cranky.¡±


    ¡°Cranky? What does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°The system relies on stability in cultivation intervals for projections of future activity. If you go around making flowers willy-nilly, allocation of resources and integration projects will be less efficient, and everything will slow down.¡±


    She went on. ¡°Speaking of slowing down, I¡¯m sure you noticed that cultivation sessions are taking longer now? That¡¯s because the number of flowers you can make in a certain time interval has a maximum, to keep the heat waste manageable. It¡¯s about twenty thousand per hour, so all too soon it will become a bottleneck. Especially for stage two. This last session took over an hour, the next would take two and in just five more sessions you won¡¯t have enough hours to fulfill your potential.¡±


    ¡°What can we do about it?¡± she asked. ¡°Do we even need that many flowers? I¡¯m feeling pretty great already.¡±


    ¡°We would be fine, even if we couldn''t get past the bottleneck. Even stage two will take less than a year at that rate, at least by the raw numbers. Along the way we will need to make millions, even billions of smaller nanobodies for supplemental systems, so that will add considerably to the time, even though the heat limit allows us to make as much as a thousand times more of those every hour. Its just something to be aware of. If you can find a supplemental system to increase circulation and more effectively remove waste heat, we can raise the cap much more too.¡±


    ¡°I should keep an eye out for bugs that improve circulation?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the basic idea, dear.¡±


    In truth, Jiannu was allowing Lilijoy to oversimplify things. Perhaps she could feel the stew of chemicals and hormones indicating frustration, boredom, and incipient total lack of interest.


    Lilijoy loved her flowers, but she was beginning to feel that the system as a whole was kind of a pain to keep track of. Until she remembered echolocation and infrared vision both worked Outside too. That was kind of awesome.


    It had turned out that Anda already had both of those abilities, and they enjoyed a lovely meal comparing notes and swapping hints for cool ways to use enhanced senses. Anda had shown her the way that the skin temperature of the face would change when someone was lying, and that she could hear heartbeats from many feet away. With practice she would be able to tell truth from falsehood reliably, he promised. She couldn¡¯t tell him much, because he wouldn¡¯t let her talk about the trials, but she did tell him how it was possible to use echolocation to find foreign objects in the body, which caused him to slap his head and say, ¡°Of course! Why didn¡¯t I ever think of that?¡± which made her feel really good.


    Just about ready to go back inside, she glanced down at her left arm. It was now completely pale, as if it had no blood in it, which was about right. When she lifted it with her other arm it weighed so little that she felt a little shudder run down her spine and take up residence in her stomach. She felt so disturbed that she pulled up one last window to distract herself before logging in.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>STAGE ONE INTEGRATION</td>


    <td>40%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>48,237</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Visual System</td>


    <td>61%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Auditory System</td>


    <td>83%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioceptive System</td>


    <td>51%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Motor System</td>


    <td>6%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Olfactory/Gustatory System</td>


    <td>33%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Somatosensory System</td>


    <td>78%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Spatial System</td>


    <td>9%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Verbal/Linguistic System</td>


    <td>50%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Logical/Mathematical System</td>


    <td>10%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Emotional/Hormonal System</td>


    <td>5%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Myelin Enhancement</td>


    <td>.2%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Everything looked great to her. She felt a little bad about putting off the deeper explorations she should be doing. What was up with ¡®Motor System¡¯ anyway? But the children at Fort Groveship were calling to her, so she settled back into her nano-aerogel seat and logged Inside.


    ***


    The Fort was exactly as she left it, children getting to sleep, fire burning down, stinking of goblin blood and death. She walked over to Sar Noda to check up on her. Her heartbeat was very slow, and twitches and tremors ran through her body. Lilijoy was sure these were not signs of imminent recovery.


    She sat next to the woman for a while, hoping to discover some kind of miraculous healing ability. She reached out to her with the cultivation technique that had worked for the tiny lizard. This helped Lilijoy to relax but appeared help the Sargent not at all. She just couldn¡¯t find a handle to connect with. It reminded her of the problem connecting to the Golden Flower, only now the goal was not creation, but healing. She didn¡¯t have a good emotional memory to connect to healing, if that was even what she needed anyway. Somehow, standing on Anda¡¯s leg while fighting off a vampire didn¡¯t do it. Nor did using a little spray bottle.


    She took some time to closely examine the heat patterns, to listen to the breathing, even to hear the blood flow in different body areas. None of it triggered anything unusual for her. It was mostly just a depressing journey through a human body¡¯s last hours, as the heart beat became weaker, the breathing labored, and the circulatory system collapsed.


    After a few hours the watch on the wall changed, and Lilijoy joined the new rotation, enjoying the night air atop the walls, talking to Berthude about her failure at the arrow slit and subsequent redemption and meeting some of the other watchers for the first time.


    Toad was an oddly named child who loved fishing. He lived alone with his father, a chandler. His real name was Toddwick, but the other children had called him Toadwick and it stuck. He didn¡¯t seem too upset about it.


    She also met Samwell, one of Briegthon¡¯s little crew. He was one of the ones who had a little ¡®accident¡¯ in his breeches when Lilijoy appeared, and had been too embarrassed to introduce himself at the time. He turned out to be a nice guy, full of excitement over the battle, and even fuller of excitement over getting home and seeing his large family (four older sisters, four younger brothers) and amazing them with his true tales of adventure and heroics.


    ¡°I always kinda thought my sisters were stretching the truth,¡± he confided. ¡°But after last night, I¡¯ll believe anything!¡±


    Lilijoy was not entirely sure that was the correct take, but he said it with such an earnest look on his face, she decided to let it lie. Or let the sisters lie, anyway.


    The rest of the night passed, one more set of watchers, one more set of conversations. It was fascinating to hear them tell about their lives, knowing that it was all simulated. Anda had told her that Guardian could simulate more human minds than there had ever been living humans, and it gave Lilijoy pause to think that a simulation of human thought felt just as human to her as the ¡®real¡¯ people she knew.


    Sunrise was amazing. An actual sun, not just a hazy blob. It¡¯s so bright that I can see light before it comes over the horizon!


    The sun brought with it the songs of birds, varied and spirited. It moved Lilijoy to hear the small animals announce themselves to the new day. She enjoyed finding them in the trees with her expanded senses, pinpointing them with her ears, then seeing their little bodies glowing with just a bit of warmth through their insulating feathers.


    The morning brought with it two problems. The first problem was that Sargent Noda breathed her last sometime during the sunrise. This was naturally a tragic event for all the children. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how to feel. Sad of course. Frustrated that her efforts failed. Embarrassed that she let down the children. Relieved that they could now leave with no regrets or encumbrances. Guilty that she felt relief.


    The second problem solved several of those issues for Lilijoy, though in a very unfortunate way. The goblins arrived. And arrived. And kept arriving until the road before the gate was full, and three walls of the fort were surrounded. Lilijoy found that a new ability of hers was instant counting, and immediately regretted it. Four hundred and sixty-eight angry goblins. No, Four hundred and sixty-nine.


    The light of the morning sun shone on an army.


    ***


    ¡°We¡¯re going to die,¡± Samwell sobbed. Briegthon sat staring at the ground. Hatha was rocking and wringing her hands. Berthude sat up on the wall away from the goblins, legs dangling over the edge as she looked out over the forest. Andrew was kicking at the ground. All of the children were reacting to the situation in their own way, while Lilijoy looked on, fighting the feeling of betrayal in her gut.


    Why betrayal? She felt betrayed by the Inside, by Nandi, even by Anda. These children were people to her. Soon they would be gone. Would they show up somewhere else on the Inside, resurrected with no memories, or in the next trial for the next ¡®player¡¯? Or maybe it would be a child who was almost identical but newly created. Were they just subroutines of Guardian, playing pretend suffering and death, only to take on the role of a goblin tomorrow?


    What was death anyway, if someone just like you lived on?


    When the goblins killed Lilijoy and she respawned, would that be the same Lilijoy? Maybe she was already a subset of Guardian without knowing it, playing a pointless role with the other subsets. What made the Outside more real than the inside anyway? Was it because it was crappier?


    So many questions. She had never had so many questions. Why hadn¡¯t anyone told her there would be so many questions? Told her that facing the death of fictional children she had known for just over a day would hurt? That she would want to save them all and would be powerless to save any of them?This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    She had even thought to bring them down the stairs to hide in the old temple, but the ¡°Door That Must Not Be Opened¡± was now the ¡°Door That Could Not Be Opened¡±. She thought of clever plans. They would dress as goblins and sneak through the army. But the bodies and clothes of the dead scouts were outside the walls. Oh well.


    Or they would defend the highest tower of the keep, using the spears to drive off the front line of the goblins as they came up the stairs. This would obviously cause the goblins to give up and go away. Because its not like goblins used bows, or could climb, or light fires, or just overwhelm them through sheer numbers. Nope.


    She felt betrayed because there was no way out. No plan. No survival. No survival for the children anyway. She wondered if the story would continue to play out in Guardian¡¯s mind somewhere. Would the families grieve? Would Samwell¡¯s brothers and sisters wonder how he died? Even if the story ended today, and all the subsets of Guardian went on to their next task, reshuffled and reconfigured, would the story go on in her own mind? She could imagine Sargent Noda¡¯s empty house, and the aching loneliness of a chandler, fishing without his only child.


    Lilijoy felt her emotions spinning out of control. She almost logged out, but then realized she would be trapped in a hovercraft with Anda, unable to even talk about any of this. Cultivating didn¡¯t feel like an option. She was torn and angry and confused. She would probably make nasty tentacle monsters instead of her flower vines. Reading felt too trivial. Then she had it. Probably.


    ¡°Jiannu, I need something happy to help me calm down and think this through. Can you play me one of Emily¡¯s happiest memories?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Do you wish to log out of the trial or stay in?¡±


    ¡°I guess I should log out to my mind space. I don¡¯t want any more surprises while I¡¯m distracted.¡±


    ¡°Choose immersion level: submerged, swim, float, hover. The levels indicate your degree of conscious awareness during the memory, from greatest to least.¡±


    That was interesting. Lilijoy figured her first dream was probably at ''swim'' and her second at ''submerged''. She looked forward to trying all the levels but thought that she would like to ''swim'' for this one.


    She made her choice, and then Emily/Lilijoy was sitting in a large room with white walls of a rough material, broad streaks of warmer colors subtly present. All the edges of the room were slightly round, giving it a soft and welcoming presence. She hated this room. She hated being forced to spend hours of her life in here by herself, when a world of plants, animals and people (but mostly plants) was outside to exalt.


    She gazed out the huge window in the wall on her left side, looking at the flowers lining the bottom of the view, at the fat slow bees making their living.


    A voice came from some distant point of the house.


    "I don''t hear anything!" The voice was light and pleasant. It made her teeth clench and her shoulders tighten.


    "Fine!" she yelled back. "God, Mom, leave me alone. I''m doing what you want!"


    Lilijoy turned to consider the area in front of her, where a huge black device crouched. She felt a mixture of regret, guilt and resentment well up into a sharp pang of annoyance, and she reached out and flipped open a wide panel at the front. Revealed were black and white stripes, arrayed in a simple pattern, white swallowing black at the front edge, black protruding upward as if forced to climb by white''s encroachment. Why did she have such strong feelings about this huge creature?


    And what was with all the negative emotions going on here? This was supposed to be a happy memory!


    She reached out to the keys on the piano, words and labels coming to her as she moved. Her hands took up positions and her fingers began to press the keys, enjoying the feeling of the depression, soft and nuanced, with layers of travel under each finger. She played a pattern with her left hand, slowly caressing from pinky to thumb.


    The sound! Sound came pouring out from the body of the beast, sound like warm crystal. No, like huge bells whispering softly. Indescribable! As the notes sounded and held and overlapped she could hear patterns in the vibrations; the sounds merged and flowed, each not singular but in tiers of harmony. I''m hearing overtones, she understood, and the harmonics of each note were dancing with each other, some reinforced, some conflicted into gentle oscillations. It was amazing. It was beautiful.


    Emily pulled her hands pack from the keyboard quickly, as if it had become too hot. "Whoa," she said under her breath. This must be from her new system. She knew her hearing would be enhanced, but now she was truly experiencing what it meant to appreciate the sheer sonic beauty of the piano in front of her. The understanding that this instrument, so rich and pure, was the culmination of hundreds of years of humans who had learned to listen at the level just gifted to her.


    She put her hands up to play again. The music was somber, powerful. It was sparse and simple. It was melancholy and complete. It was, Lilijoy now knew, the first movement of The Moonlight Sonata, and it was by an ancient composer named Beethoven and he was talking to her, whispering across hundreds of years, saying, "I am not okay. I am not fulfilled. Feel with me the fullness of beauty in despair."


    Her reverie was destroyed instantly by the voice from the other room.


    "Emily, playing is not practicing! Don''t practice the stuff you already know! Do the third movement; you''ve hardly touched it and your lesson is coming up."


    Oh yeah, she thought, now I remember why I don''t like the piano.


    She groaned and grabbed a score from beneath the bench, opening it onto the stand. The music was reluctant to stay open, pages drifting across the spine in succession. She sighed in exasperation and grabbed the score in both hands, bending it open until her hands touched and the inside became the outside. She placed it down like this and pressed it down the spine, forcing the paper into its new configuration. When she placed it back on the stand, its behavior improved, chastised by her rough treatment.


    Back to the woodshed, she thought to herself.


    She usually had a few minutes of good focus at the beginning of a practice session, before the physical effort of forcing her hands through reluctant steps and the frustrations of failing combined into a toxic stew that invited the demons of thoughtlessness and rage.


    She began with the right hand only. Won''t teacher be proud. Her hand moved in ascending arpeggios, each higher than the last. The final result was supposed to be a mad cascade of notes ripping up through the keyboard. It wasn''t that hard for her at a slow pace, but after a certain tempo, her fingers began to develop their own opinions about where they wanted to go, opinions neither considered nor valid, and the cascades would become a tangled mess. Her teacher called it ¡°getting her fingers twisted¡± and she very much agreed with that characterization. The answer, the always, only, ever answer was to practice slowly.


    "Don''t play faster than your fingers know to play, they will find their way in time, every day a little faster. Stop before you tense up. Don''t try- do without trying." The memory of her teacher''s voice floated in her mind.


    "Thanks, Yoda," she grumbled under her breath.


    Back to the keyboard. She traced the first line of music slowly with her right hand, slowly flowing through the figure, thumb gracefully repositioning itself under her fingers with each new dip in the contour. It felt terrible! What was with all the tension in her hand today?


    She tried again, noticing how many of the movements were using too many muscles, little unnecessary muscles that had no business involving themselves. What the hell have I been doing? she thought to herself. She streamlined the movements, removing the now highlighted sources of extra work and tension. It felt effortless.


    Guess that''s what teacher''s been trying to say all these years. Just never felt it like this before.


    It was as if her hand had found an ''easy mode¡¯. She played it again, and the lack of resistance within her hand, the smoothness of the movements (''slow is smooth, smooth is fast'' echoed from her last lesson). It felt like the passage was melding into one thing, not letters, not words; a phrase. She could almost feel it floating in her head like a three-dimensional object, this phrase, timeless, tempo-less, just there. Speed was just a concept.


    The trees are fast; the forest is slow. All her lessons were coming back to her as they gathered meaning from her new experience.


    She put her fingers to the keyboard and let the phrase unfold. She observed as her fingers flew up the keyboard, her mind almost detached from her body. It was perfect. She did it again. Perfect.


    Holy crap, she thought, how fast am I even going?


    Without the resistance and effort, she wasn''t sure whether she was playing fast or not. It certainly seemed fast.


    It feels too easy, she decided.


    She got out the metronome for a second opinion. She placed it at her weekly goal tempo. Played. Simple. She moved the metronome up to final concert tempo. Played. Simple. Just for kicks, she moved it up to the fastest tempo she had ever heard anyone play the piece, an almost ridiculous machine-like blur of notes from some Russian wunderkind on the net. Played. Simple. Stupidly fast, but simple.


    She sat back for a moment. Was this the system? She knew that it helped enhance all the senses. Her earlier experience with hearing the overtones in real time as she played certainly demonstrated that. What was that sense called again?


    , the word floated into her mind.


    Was that my memory or my system? she wondered.


    Proprioception, body awareness... she had gotten better at feeling where her body was in space. But even more importantly, at feeling the relationship between muscles and movement. Now, tension felt crappy, whereas before, she accepted it as the cost of playing. Somehow, she could feel how to remove the tension and leave the essential motion purified, an alchemy of movement.


    She added the left hand. She had to walk back the tempo, of course, but she could feel the communication between the hands, the impulses to move one hand that wanted to cross back over and interfere with the other. She wanted to get rid of that! After a few tries, she had found the knack for moving her hands together without accidentally recruiting symmetrical muscles in the other arm. She had never realized the constant presence of stray nerves firing in sympathy, and as she cleaned it out, her hands found the true independence necessary to play together, even to synergize.


    She was so immersed in the inner workings of her muscles and coordination, she hardly noticed when she had learned the first page. Perfectly. She owned it.


    Except, now that it was so easy to play, she had the mental bandwidth to listen to herself. Why was she accenting random notes? Why was the dynamic contour so flat? Maybe she should try a crescendo up the cascades. Beethoven didn''t write one, but what did that guy know anyway?


    Okay, he knew way more about music than just about any other human in the history of earth, she thought. But he was dead, and she was here!


    She tried the crescendo. Too obvious. It gave away too much of the building pressure in the bubbling notes, like letting off the steam in an autoclave. So if she wanted more pressure¡­


    She played it again, this time getting softer as the manic run reached the peak before crashing over the repeated chords. Damn, that was hard. This was a worthy challenge for her new abilities!


    By the time she stopped for the day, she had learned the first six pages. Half the movement! she thought. She gave a little fist pump, closed the lid and turned away from the piano, to see her mother standing in the doorway, an expression of awe across her face.


    "Oh, hi Mom," she said. "I think I¡¯ve got this piano thing down. I was thinking maybe I would take up the drums now."


    The expression on her mother''s face created what might have been the happiest moment Emily could ever remember.


    Lilijoy slowly emerged from Emily¡¯s memory. She could still feel the keyboard, hear the music in her mind. She understood what the system could do now. She could learn anything. Do anything. She was pretty sure she would be able to play piano, if she ever ran across one, as long as her hands weren¡¯t too small. She felt Emily¡¯s exhilarated calm flow through her. It didn¡¯t solve her current problem, but now she understood that problems come from inside the mind even more than from outside it.


    When you struggle to learn, you learn to struggle. The harder you fight the enemy, the stronger the bond between you.


    She knew what to do. She logged in. She stood.


    ¡°My friends, I need to talk to you!¡± she yelled out to the courtyard. Bleary eyes, angry eyes, red eyes turned to her. Other eyes looked at the ground, or the sky.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t save you today. I wanted to save you all. We can¡¯t fight that army. I don¡¯t think it would mean anything to kill a few more goblins before we die. So I have orders for you!¡± She raised her voice at the end and glared at them, daring any to challenge her.


    ¡°We are young. We are smart. And most importantly, we are small"


    She looked at Andrew apologetically, "well most of us are.¡± He looked back at her in confusion.


    ¡°You are going to hide. Find the best, most clever hiding place you have ever found in all the games you ever played. Dig a hole and put boards over it. Find an old cistern, a garderobe, a roof top, a crawlspace. Bring some jerky, a waterskin, a bucket and patience. I want you to stay hidden until you are near death of thirst. The goblins can¡¯t stay here; the human army will come if they do. All you have to do is survive!¡±


    She looked back at nineteen faces; thoughtful, vacant, despairing, grinning. Her eyes moved on and then jumped back to the grinning face. Bosta must really like hiding, she thought to herself.


    ¡°Now go find your spots. Try not to let others see if you can avoid it; we don¡¯t want the gobs to use you to find each other. If two of you want the same spot, it¡¯s not a good spot in the first place. I¡¯ll be around to help if you need something closed or covered up after you. I''ll make sure your scent is covered. I promise the goblins won¡¯t get anything from me if I¡¯m captured.¡±


    She took a deep breath. ¡°Now, I need volunteers. If you don¡¯t like hiding, if you hate small spaces more than dying, we need to talk. If you are willing to lay down your life to give the others a chance, we need to talk. If you think this is a dumb idea, and you would rather die fighting, we need to talk.¡±


    ¡°Now go!¡±

 Chapter 31: Thorns

    Warlord Hrushkaghal was pleased with the performance of his warband. The elite warriors of his raiding army had driven the rest of rabble through the night, and they had caught the humans holed up in the horrible stone stronghold. He grinned as he thought of the human¡¯s expressions when they saw his mighty army arrive, the largest force of The People gathered in over a generation, poised to sweep through human villages, pillaging and burning while culling the weaklings from the Five Tribes and blooding the strong.


    He was less pleased by his third and sixth scouting groups. While he was of the general opinion that the weak and stupid among The People should die on the blades of their enemies, he had also previously been of the opinion that his scout groups did not fall into the ¡®weak and stupid¡¯ category. The fact that one hand of his best scouts had been completely wiped out, along with half of another had made him angry enough to finish the process of wiping them out, mobilize his forces for a lovely night run, and break his favorite war club. Granted, the last of these was related to the first, but for Hrushkaghal that was a distinction without a difference.


    Still, he felt a certain satisfaction as he watched his foot soldiers collapse from exhaustion at the foot of the walls after the long run. He hoped to get a sense of the enemy¡¯s archers by offering his weakest for targets, but if there were any archers on the walls above, they were being coy.


    He had received mixed reports from the surviving scouts. One had insisted that the fort teemed with stealthy enemy fighters who had lured them into an ambush. Another had relayed that the enemy group was small in number and had simply used the walls to good advantage. The third had vomited blood and died, primarily due to the presence of Hrushkaghal¡¯s dagger in his gut. Hrushkaghal had a little regret that he had killed the potential tiebreaker, but he had wanted to get the conversation with the other two off to a good start.


    That led him to the need to elicit a reaction from the forces in the keep. Since they refused to take his first offering, he decided a small force of thirty expendables could be sent to the main gate to bang on the portcullis and otherwise make a nuisance of themselves. His remaining scouts were ranging the area, but he had a small force of twenty archers who were either too weak or stupid to be scouts, and those he sent to watch the process and pick off any enemy who showed themselves. He figured that if the enemy did not react, the portcullis might be weakened enough to break by sunset, which was his preferred time to launch a large-scale assault anyway.


    If the enemy did react, he would would finally have some valid information and make a better plan. All in all, this was a lovely chance to train some large-scale formation movements and to work on the cohesion of his forces. He gave the order to make camp, found a nice rock, and sat down to watch the events of the day unfold.


    After several hours of banging on the portcullis had elicited no response, he was beginning to get bored. He considered organizing some fights between groups of foot soldiers for entertainment, but just as he was about to give the order to his favorite lieutenant, a small figure showed itself atop the gatehouse wall.


    ¡°Hello goblins!¡± it yelled down in an irritating high-pitched voice. ¡°How are you today?¡±


    A small flight of weakly launched arrows greeted this question, most spattering on the battlement or the wall below it. Hrushkaghal winced at his archer¡¯s ineffectiveness. Looking over at them, he saw that many were just getting to their feet, some were tangled in their bows, and the handful who had managed to get off a shot were now standing there hanging their heads at their weak shooting.


    Instantly, Hrushkaghal was filled with anger. He grabbed his second favorite war club and marched over to the errant group. Noticing one archer who had managed to stay asleep through the excitement, he ensured that any future waking was off the table. Thankfully, his latest war club came through with flying colors. Red mostly.


    ¡°Hello big goblin!¡± shouted the voice. ¡°Thanks for killing the sleeping guy. He looked pretty dangerous!¡±


    Hrushkaghal took a moment to process that. Dangerous to who?


    ¡°Would you mind killing a few more?¡± came the voice. ¡°You seem very good at it. Perhaps they will lie down for you if you ask nicely?¡±


    ¡°Shoot it!¡± he barked at the slack jawed archers. A second, much more respectable volley of arrows flew, but since the figure had ducked down, their effect was no better than the first.


    ¡°Thanks for the arrows!¡± came the voice from behind the battlement. ¡°I was running a little low. This will really help out!¡±


    ¡°Cease fire!¡± Hrushkaghal took a moment to calm himself. What exactly was going on here? Why was this person calling down to him from the wall in such a way? Did she (he thought it was probably a she) want him to waste arrows? Or not to waste arrows? Why would she want him not to waste arrows?


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you guys showed up! I was getting a little bored in here.¡± There was a long pause, which Hrushkaghal decided not to fill. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve seen my friends wandering around out there? I¡¯m guessing you haven¡¯t; they¡¯re pretty sneaky. Anyway, if you do see them could you tell them ¡®hi¡¯ from me?¡± There was another pause, and Hrushkaghal couldn¡¯t help himself.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± he bellowed. He became aware that all sounds from the camp and the portcullis had ceased. Every goblin within earshot was listening with great interest to the conversation between their Warlord and this stranger. Before he could order them back to work, she said.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve been very thoughtless. My name is Doolie. Doolie the Duelist.


    ***


    Up on the wall, Lilijoy winced at her unfortunate name choice. Where on earth had that come from? But since it was out there, she decided she might as well run with it. The goblin chief guy down there looked nonplussed, which was the main thing. He wasn¡¯t answering her, so she continued.


    ¡°I come from a long line of Duelists, and I have never been defeated.¡±


    The goblin guy answered with a bored tone. ¡°And I suppose you think I am going to duel with you? Allow you to go free if you win? Nice try human.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, chief goblin guy. I¡¯m not nearly sleepy enough to duel with you!¡±


    There was some scattered laughter in the ranks, though well concealed. Lilijoy could see the blood under the head goblin¡¯s face flow hot. But he hadn¡¯t gotten to his position by being easily manipulated.


    ¡°Good one, human. I¡¯m now very angry with you. So angry that I want to fight you. Come down here right now and engage in single combat.¡± There were some scattered cheers, from both those who respected his control, and those who thought he was actually going to fight.


    Lilijoy consulted her internal clock. Just a few more minutes. ¡°Okay. But before I come down there, we need to exchange the sacred vows of my people.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine¡± said the chief, clearly feeling in control of the situation, as Lilijoy added,


    ¡°In dance.¡±


    ***


    Hrushkaghal blinked. He was proud of his dancing abilities as a warrior of The People. He had won many mates by daring jumps over the fire, spinning, leaping and squatting with the other young warriors. Those were his years as a simple warrior, before he became a chief, and then a warlord. These days, it was beneath his dignity to engage in such celebrations, and he certainly had no need to impress females. Before he could respond, the figure on the battlement had leapt up upon the crenellation and begun an odd movement, shaking and twisting one arm in and out from her body.


    ¡°Join me!¡± she called down.


    He gazed up in astonishment. She was no taller than his smallest warriors. This was no human. He was so taken aback, he even forgot to order his archers to fire. He didn¡¯t notice the rest of his army slowly slipping around the corners of the fort to see the spectacle of the Warlord¡¯s duel of words, and possibly dance, with the human girl.


    The movements she was making were simple, foolish even. She was trying to make him look foolish in front of his army, he was sure of it now. The spell of inaction that had fallen over him shattered, and he barked, ¡°Archers fire!¡±


    There was a long pause, during which the figure hopped down behind the sheltering wall, before a single arrow spiraled up into the air. He didn¡¯t even bother to look over at the archers, and instead yelled over to the group that was supposed to be banging on the portcullis.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Get back to work and get that gate opened!¡±


    As he was saying that, smoke began to pour through the bars of the portcullis. The weak warriors clustered at the gate pulled back, coughing and choking from the fumes. Hrushkaghal was infuriated.


    ¡°Warband to me!¡± he cried, as he ran into the smoke, clubbing the wretched foot soldiers out of the way.


    Through the smoke and bars of the gate, he could see a pile of wood was on fire. The pile blocked the hall, and the acrid, stinging smoke was escaping through the gate opening. He could see a bundle of arrows at the front, flaming merrily. The smoke smelled like...


    ¡°Poison!¡± he choked out, just as forty-five pounds of weight landed on his shoulders and a wavy, evil knife penetrated his skull.


    At the back wall of the keep, three figures slid down hastily dropped ropes and scattered, running as fast as they could.


    ***


    Lilijoy flew through the air, using her expanded senses to keep track of the goblin chief below her. The chance to take him out had been too good to miss, and she hoped that there was not another strong leader poised to take his place and finish the job at the fort. And after all, what was the worst that could happen to her?


    She had sent Andrew, Logan and Toad, who, each for his own reason, had decided that hiding was not an option. She hoped they would draw off the scouts, and more importantly that the scouts would report the escape, successful or not. Every step of her plan was designed to make the goblins think that the other humans had already left the keep, leaving behind a small caretaker force. As she landed on the goblin, somehow maintaining her spatial awareness and balance throughout the fall, she plunged the knife into his head (the blade sent warm snugly feelings to her), rode his body down to absorb the fall, and was up and on her feet before the warlord¡¯s death was even noticed.


    That went way better than it should have.


    Holding her breath, she brought an arm up to her face and mimed coughing, while covering her face with ash and char she had prepared in her pocket. She had watched the goblins for some time before the conversation with the chief and had altered her tunic as best she could to resemble the rags most of the small soldiers were wearing. She was wearing a bone necklace and several other ornaments pilfered from the scouts. She could only hope they didn¡¯t signify anything in particular that would cause her trouble. She couldn¡¯t do much about her ears or skin color, and the goblins didn¡¯t wear hats. Hopefully the soot would conceal her in the chaos.


    A large group of sizable armored goblins was pushing their way to the gate, as all the others were fleeing, due to the warlord¡¯s last word. She allowed herself to be shoved to the ground away from the gate, and slowly crawled toward the bushes on the side of the road. She wasn¡¯t the only one either, there was a goblin just next to her crawling away as well.


    A shout went up behind her; the warlord¡¯s body had been discovered. There was bellowing and shouting and all manner of chaos while she continued her crawl through the first tall grasses and into the thorny bushes. Ignoring the punctures and itching scratches on her flesh, she forced herself deeper into the thicket, until the midday light was dim and the air felt cooler. The ground beneath her was dirt, as no other plants could find sun or nutrients among the thick canes of the thorn bushes. The tumult of the goblin camp faded as she directed her attention away from sound, focusing instead on seeing the heat of living bodies through the vegetation. She strained to pick out the outlines of the goblins running to and fro, but the leaves kept the infrared out almost as well as visible light. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why it¡¯s cooler in here,¡± she thought.


    She closed her eyes and turned her attention back to her hearing, focusing on building a map of the movements around her. She was soon able to find rabbits, goblins, birds and other creatures just by listening to certain wavelengths of sound and could keep track of the activity in a good sized region centered on her. All the attention was focused on the body of the chief, which had been dragged out of the smoke. She used her map to target specific conversations, and tuned into the words of the larger warrior goblins.


    ¡°This is shit,¡± said one voice. ¡°All the other chiefs are back home.¡±


    ¡°I came here for loot and blood. Lets go kill some humans at a village,¡± said another.


    ¡°Who gives the orders now?¡± asked a third.


    ¡°I do,¡± said yet another. ¡°We will stay here and loot this place. Then we will go to next village.¡±


    At this point Lilijoy gave up on keeping track of which voice was which. She just hoped this last one wouldn¡¯t get his way. She filed him away as the bossy one.


    ¡°Is it empty?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll know soon. The fire will burn out¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not wait for the fire. Let¡¯s send the scouts climbing¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t use the scouts. Use the weaklings¡±


    ¡°Can they climb?¡±


    ¡°As long as one can, it doesn¡¯t matter how many fall.¡± There were grunts of agreement.


    ¡°What about throwing ropes over?¡±


    There was a smacking sound. ¡°Dumbass, what holds the ropes?¡±


    There was more discussion along those lines. Then the bossy one began issuing orders.


    ¡°Everyone listen!¡± he roared. ¡°Everyone without bow, climb the walls somehow. Everyone with a bow, shoot anyone not climbing. Except warband. And each other. Go do it!¡±


    There was the sound of many feet running, bow strings twanging, goblins shrieking as they fell. Amazingly to Lilijoy, it only took about thirty minutes before someone reached the top. She felt frustrated, forced to cower in the bushes unable to see what was happening. She could tell from the raised voices that ropes were thrown and eventually secured. She heard the report given to the warband elite.


    ¡°One dead human, good weapon. Bunch of rusty crap weapons. Lots of crap in empty buildings. No one lived here for a long time. All the good stuff gone.¡±


    Bossy guy wasn¡¯t having it. ¡°Keep looking. Find some good metals. We stay here tonight.¡±


    Damn it! Lilijoy swore to herself. This guy needs to shut up and go away.


    Unfortunately, Bossy didn¡¯t seem inclined to do either. She was plotting his demise a few minutes later when a scout approached to report. After the surprised scout learned of the Warlord¡¯s death, he gave his report.


    ¡°Some humans ran out the back a few hours ago. We killed one, are tracking two more.¡±


    Oh crap. Who? thought Lilijoy. Big slow Andrew, brave, squeamish Logan or the little fisher, Toad; one of them was dead in the forest. A tear ran down her cheek. The others could be dead already. It was only a matter of time before one of the hiding children was found. Her whole plan, that had come so close, was unraveling while she sat helpless in a thorn bush. She forced herself to think. What did she have? Evil dagger. Goblin disguise. Thorn bushes. What could she do? Sense things. Stab things. Charm very small lizards. Hide. Cultivate. Breathe. Cry.


    Die.


    But not yet.


    She had something to do first.


    Thorns surrounded her. What did they want? Why does a thorn grow?


    What did she want?


    It was the same.


    Protect.


    She went deep into herself. Not to the mind space, but the other place. Inaction. Potential. Identity. What gives a cup its identity? What gives a thorn its shape?


    Emptiness. Everything that was not her, defined her. And her shape defined all of space and time reciprocally. What did she want? Only what the thorn wanted. They shared the same space, and everything else defined them.


    She reached within. That was where the thorn was.


    And she invited the rest of universe to experience all that it was not.


    ***


    From the sprawling thicket came a cry. Not of anguish or sorrow. It was a cry of jubilant purpose. Even if a listener couldn¡¯t tell the difference.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°Go check it out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not getting scratched up just to find some rabbit got caught up in there!¡±


    ¡°Fine. Send the scout.¡±


    ¡°You! Yeah you, scouty boy. Go find out what that noise was. Hop to it.¡±


    There was a rustle. There was a crackle, and the scout¡¯s head vanished into the tall bramble. There was a sound, like a storm blowing in, just before the rain. Then a squeak, a groaning creak. And ultimately a gentle patter, like the first drops of rain falling.


    The other goblins looked at each other.


    ¡°Hey scouty boy! Bunny got your tongue?¡± called one.


    They looked at each other again in the silence. One whispered, ¡°Never did find who killed old Hrushkaghal.¡±


    They pulled out their weapons, clubs and short jagged blades of bone and metal. The biggest one took the lead, swiping at the foliage with his spiked club as he went.


    ¡°Ha!¡± he yelled, hoping to startle anyone hiding just out of sight. He mostly startled his companions.


    ¡°Screw it,¡± he said, and leapt past the edge into the thick of the brush. His club made contact and he beat down over and over, the thorns dragging scratches across his tough skin with every rise of the club. It took a minute to see that he was beating the entangled body of the scout, whose body had been lacerated, cut to the bone in a dozen places, as if sharpened wires had dragged and squeezed across his flesh.


    He turned back to the watching crew, and watched as their faces began to change, expressions of alarm, and surprise, but not yet horror emerging across their features. Then he was swallowed by a hundred bands of sharp thorns that tore into his armor, lifting him off his feet in every direction, rotating his body as if slipping on ice into the air, half-spinning him and squeezing, moving across his face and tearing, and he made no sound, because his throat had no air or anyplace to get air.


    The pattering sound, like rain was the last sound he heard, and the horror that had finally caught up to his companion¡¯s expressions was the last sight.


    His companions saw, sitting cross legged on the ground behind the hanging dripping body of their would-be leader, a small soot blackened girl with eyes closed and a blissful expression. One hand was upright in her lap, cradling the other fist in its palm. Held in that fist, extending up to her chin, was a foot-long wavy black dagger that radiated waves of envy.


    Her eyes opened, and she looked upon them with hunger.


    ¡°Feed my roots,¡± she said in a gentle voice.


    They turned as one and ran, and in some persistent corner of the Inside, Fort Groveship was forever after known in goblin lore as the home of the Dark Lady of the Thorns.

 Chapter 32: Results

    Lilijoy surfaced from the thorns as the scene faded from her awareness, faded into the black space of no senses. She felt a sense of purpose fulfilled. She had defended. And the universe had noticed.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top">


    Trial Complete: Welcome to the Inside: Tutorial Mode


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td rowspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Name: Lilijoy*


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Defender of the Young


    </td>


    <td colspan="2" rowspan="4" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    All of this is your character sheet. In the future there will be detailed information, jargon and statistics written here. In tutorial mode, you will be introduced gradually to this information.


    You may leave tutorial mode at any time.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Blessed of Nandi


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Trial Results: Above 99th percentile.


    Eligible for Academy**


    Level: 8: An excellent result for the Trial


    Achievements: 4: Less than 100 others have earned this many. Listed below...


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Defender of the Young


    You saved 18 children from certain death in a no-win scenario. This is a unique achievement.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Reality Bender


    The Inside will never be the same. You have invented a unique ability: Two Minds, One Self


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    You have become a legendary figure to the Goblin race. The stories will only grow.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Blessed of Nandi


    Congratulations Lilijoy! I knew you would shine, but I never guessed how brightly. Well Done!


    p.s. say hello to Anda


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Titles: Some of the achievements have given you Titles that others can see. They are listed next to your name at the top.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Other Notable Accomplishments:


    </td>


    </tr>


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    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Animal Lover


    You did not kill any animals or monsters considered to be animals during the Trial


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Path Less Taken:


    Across more than 10 million iterations of this Trial, 3 have made the same path choices.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Experience Points (Exp) earned: 868


    Exp turns into points you can spend: You have 100 (80 + 20 bonus from Reality Bender)


    10 exp = 1 free point to spend on skills, traits, abilities, magic and more.


    You earn Exp by learning and doing things that are novel, challenging, painful and creative.


    Everything from fighting a rat to learning a new spell will give you Exp. But every time you repeat the same action, you will get less (or zero) Exp. Be sure to explore and mix it up.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    You now have the following Abilities Inside:


    </td>


    </tr>


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    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Scan II: Lets you see information about other people, animals and monsters.


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Infrared Vision III


    </td>


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    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Echolocation III


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Low Light Vision II


    </td>


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    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Two Minds One Self I: Merge your mind and will with another being and act as one


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Abilities are things you can do. They can be ranked from I (lowest) to V (highest). You can raise them by using them or with your free points (to level II = 4, to III = 6, to IV = 10, to V = 16)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    *Before you go, think about your character name. You can use Lilijoy if you want, or something completely different. All Inside announcements and statistics will be attached to your character name. If you do not choose a different name within 24 hours, Lilijoy will be used. The first statistics and announcements available to the public will be posted then.


    **You are eligible for the Academy, an elite training facility for ages 12 to 16: Go to the Academy Building to register soon.


    That¡¯s it for now! There are many more things you gained in the Trial. Come back to your character sheet after you have explored a bit to see more.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She was exhausted and elated. The trial had finally ended and now she could see what it was all about. She was very grateful for the patient tone of the character sheet and smiled at the little note from Nandi.


    But she had just about had it with windows popping up in her vision bringing more stuff to figure out. She needed a break. A long break. And she could finally talk to Anda. Now that everything had turned out better than she could have hoped.


    She still wondered who had died.


    ***


    The odd ache of absence entered her awareness as she returned to her one-armed existence. It was late afternoon, and to her entire lack of surprise, they were driving over a dead swamp. Was it less dead than before? Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if they had even moved since her last return. Anda was sitting with his eyes closed, so she didn¡¯t disturb him. She got up to find a food bar, stretching her stiff legs and back. Jiannu had mentioned that as her motor areas were integrated, the system could begin to help to move and exercise her body even if Lilijoy was Inside. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure how she felt about her body moving around on its own but had adopted the view that it was like sleepwalking; a bit creepy, but ultimately nothing to worry about. Hopefully.


    While she was polishing off a second food bar, Anda roused and noticed she was awake. He looked at her with searching eyes, trying to gauge her emotional state. She smiled and waved.


    ¡°I finished the Trial! I was really mad at you for a while, but it turned out okay in the end.¡±


    Anda looked confused. ¡°Are you sure you finished?¡± he asked. ¡°I was expecting you to be a little more...thoughtful.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was really hard. Right up to the end I thought everyone was going to die, and if that had happened I would still be really mad at you for not telling.¡±


    ¡°So you had a survivor?¡± Anda broke into a wide smile. ¡°Lilijoy, that¡¯s amazing! Do you know that less than one in a thousand Trials ends with one of the children surviving? I was so worried that you would be devastated for days after the Trial. Truly, it caused me a great struggle as well. I think it may have marked the beginning of my eventual break with my clan.¡±


    ¡°So what made you choose the middle door?¡± he asked, not giving her a chance to reply. ¡°My clan told me which door to choose. They require that every member undergoing the trial already be a competent warrior, so the door for the young would be below us. I wasn¡¯t sure which door would call to you, so I kept my mouth shut,¡± he winked. ¡°Which was not an easy task, let me assure you.¡±


    ¡°I knew it was the middle one right away. I just like wood better.¡± said Lilijoy. She decided not to tell Anda of the specifics of her final stage just yet. ¡°So the metal door is for kids, the wood for young people and the stone door for the old?¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s pretty much it,¡± he replied. ¡°The inside takes you as you are, natural body and mind, so it wouldn¡¯t make sense for an eight-year-old to undergo the same difficulties that you did. Or an eighty-year-old for that matter. Today, almost no one goes through the stone door, because nearly everyone joins the Inside at a young age. Different clans like their children to join in various ways, so the other doors get a lot of traffic. I understand that the final trial for the youngsters is protecting a group of talking mice from predators of the forest. But the end result is always the same; tears and futility. Guardian is trying to tell us something, I am sure of it.¡±


    ¡°Did you go into the forest?¡± she asked. ¡°Wait! Did you have bees? What about the spider? She was not nice at all. How about...¡±


    ¡°Hold on, Lilijoy,¡± Anda interrupted with a chuckle. ¡°Let me give you the short version of my Trial. As I understand it the Trial areas are consistent in most ways from person to person, but I may have diverged from your path quite early.¡±


    He took a deep breath and settled into his narration. ¡°I was fifteen at the time, full of ¡®manly¡¯ thoughts of battle and valor. I ran through the field, entered the forest and constructed weapons for myself, several throwing spears and a longer lance. I moved deeper into the forest, made my first kill, a boar, which gashed my leg pretty badly. After tying off the injury, I limped still deeper, avoided the cave behind the fallen trees...¡±


    He gave Lilijoy a look. ¡°What on earth made you go in there? Didn¡¯t you see the webs?¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t seen many spiders before. I thought they looked neat,¡± she said with a shrug.


    ¡°Well, almost no one chooses willingly to go into a spider cave. File that away for future reference,¡± he said raising his brow. ¡°After I passed the cave, I heard the calls of wolves. I quickly climbed a tree and waited in ambush, throwing my spears and then leaping upon the largest wolf and killing him in one strike from my lance. The forest path climbs into a cold mountain area, where I had my first death.¡±


    He winced. ¡°I fell into a crevasse full of icy water and froze to death. My people are great warriors, but just slightly less adept in arctic conditions.¡± His expression indicated how ¡®just slightly less adept¡¯ meant ¡®abysmally awful¡¯.


    ¡°I was so angry after that death! I had felt sure I would be the first in my cohort to pass the trials without dying.¡± He sighed. ¡°The arrogance of youth. Did you know that there is an Achievement for that? It¡¯s called ¡°Deathless¡± and it gives you a huge bonus to vitality. Oh well. After the crevasse came the yeti, then the rope swings over the cliff and the giant geyser squids. You haven¡¯t really lived before running for your life across an icy plain while geysers erupt boiling water, and sometimes giant grasping tentacles, all over you. That was where I died the second time.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded in sympathy. Her own tentacle experience had been pretty traumatic.


    ¡°Being slow cooked over a steaming cauldron while held by a barb covered tentacle really gives you some perspective, you know? After that respawn, I was back on the wrong side of the plain. Tried again, same result. Death number three. I tried climbing the icy cliff to circumvent the plain, fell down halfway, just out of the reach of the closest geyser. At least the air was warm, but by the time I recovered, I had become embedded in the ice. That was a long and traumatic experience. I actually had to log out twice before I had the courage to send myself to respawn. I did get an accomplishment for it though. ¡®Stubborn Unto Death¡¯. It doesn¡¯t do anything for me, but it¡¯s nice to see the words.¡± He thought for a moment.


    ¡°That¡¯s why it would be so hard to start over. I have lived with those words and my memories of the Trial for over a decade. How can I just erase it like it never happened?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I finally respawned on the other side. Perhaps the Trials took pity on me? Regardless, the path descended into a village, where the people mistook me for a legendary monster of theirs and attacked with pitchforks and flaming torches. I told my clan at the time that I fought and killed until they fled, but the truth was, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Which is still awfully fast, might I say. Thankfully, I never had to explain where the huge bonus to my Flash trait came from to my friends. At that point, the Trial must have decided it was time for the finale. A giant bird plucked me up and after hour of flight, I was deposited in good old Fort Groveship.¡± He paused.


    ¡°Lilijoy, have you run across the ancient entertainment program ¡®Star Trek?''¡±


    She shook her head.


    ¡°Well, look it up when you get the chance. Hardly anyone today knows of it, but it had the most delightful characters and stories. One story concerned an unbeatable test, rescuing a ship called the Kobayashi Maru. The test was designed to be unwinnable. So now you know where the idea for Fort Groveship came from. It is a test of how we respond to a no-win situation, and a chance to display our courage, creativity and humanity in the face of defeat. Personally, I think there is a lesson in humility and human limitations in there too. Everyone who takes Fort Groveship seriously is changed. Of course, there are those who are uncaring and abandon the children, and those who do ridiculous things like charge the goblin army single handed. I almost feel worse for them, because they showcase what they lack by their actions.


    And do you know, the name Groveship has had a lot of discussion over the years. Some thought it must be from ¡®Grove¡¯s hip¡¯ or was named after someone named Groveship. Until some clever person translated it into Japanese. Grove is kobayashi and ship is maru. So there you have it. Indisputable proof that Guardian is using ancient entertainment programs to mess with the human race!¡± He said this last sentence with a broad smile.


    Lilijoy loved hearing about Anda¡¯s trials. His sound much harder than mine, she thought. It was nice to get some perspective on Fort Groveship too.


    ¡°Would you like to hear my story?¡± she asked.


    ***


    During Lilijoy¡¯s narration, Anda expressed amazement, bewilderment, and total disbelief. He demanded, in a friendly way, to see her character sheet several times, but she deferred, not wanting to spoil the ending. When she finally concluded with her victory over the goblin warband elites and showed him her character sheet, he sat quietly for a long time. When he finally surfaced from his inspection slash introspection, he made as if to speak. He opened his mouth several times. Then he went back to looking at the sheet. Finally, he managed...


    ¡°This is astounding. This is...astounding. There are less than twenty reality benders that I know of. Five of them are now Clan heads at rank ten on the Outside. The Reality Bender achievement is the Inside¡¯s way of saying you broke the rules in a new way that it now needs to incorporate. It is almost like a bounty for finding a programming error. Sometimes it fixes the problem and closes the loophole, other times it turns it into a new spell or ability. The earliest examples come from high ranked individuals finding ways to use their mental or sensory enhancements on the Inside. I¡¯m pretty sure that echolocation got its start that way.¡±


    ¡°And you know that this is just the tip of the iceberg? You still don¡¯t know your skills and skill levels, or traits, or magic. I can only imagine what is contained in your full sheet!¡± His face turned serious. ¡°Lilijoy, I know that the Inside seems less real and less important than the Outside to you. Everything there is a simulation, right? It¡¯s not real.¡±


    ¡°But you need to realize that most of what humans value is not real either. Money and fame, power and honor are the currencies of our existence. None of these exist but through our unspoken agreement as a culture; all of these are just as real on the Inside as they are on the Outside. A beautiful sculpture is just as valuable on the Inside. Music is just as moving. Gold mined on the Inside is actually more valuable than that mined on the Outside, for reasons of economics we can discuss later...¡± Seeing her face. ¡°...or never.¡±


    ¡°The point is, serious, powerful people control both worlds, or think they do. For them, it is not two separate worlds. It is the Taijitu, Inside and Outside, yin and yang. Our species has lived in the Inside for five generations. We work there, love there, even grow up there to some extent. Over fifteen million people make their living from the Inside, and millions more go there whenever they can. It is our species¡¯ true home now, and the Outside is where you find the outcasts, the exiles and the stubbornly obsolete.¡±


    Lilijoy listened to Anda with half her attention. There was something in the back of her mind nagging at her, and she couldn¡¯t figure out what. She was excited to cultivate, but that wasn¡¯t it. Memories of her last session kept dancing across her mind, but that wasn¡¯t it either. It was an odd feeling of missing something important, something about all her success that didn¡¯t quite make sense.


    For some reason, her mind kept going back to the little group of people she grew up among. Her family? Her tribe? For twelve years, they were the totality of her existence, but in her memory, they felt foggy, unformed. Spending time with the children Inside, with their vibrant and varied personalities, emotions and dreams was the first time she had experienced a different group of people. All the rest of her adventures had been with Marcus or Anda alone.


    There was something about her childhood tribe that felt less real than a computer simulation. She had never had anything to compare it to before, but now that she had, she felt aware of a sense of¡­she couldn¡¯t put her finger on it. Thinness? Incompleteness?


    For example, why didn¡¯t her tribe have a name? Groups of people liked to have an identity. Even the goblins called themselves ¡®The People¡¯. Her group didn¡¯t. They just existed. Or another question: Why didn¡¯t her tribe use genders? This one had been bothering her for a while now. She hadn¡¯t even known what a girl was. Looking back, it was clear to her that Grabby was a woman, as were several of the Bros.


    She had been too distracted by two, three if she included Emily¡¯s, worlds worth of new experiences to consider her own past and how unusual it was, but now that she thought about it, there were many enigmatic details. Like why her tribe lived next to the piles. The factory mine had come by years ago, just before she was born, leaving its tail of waste. Why didn¡¯t the tribe move? What were they doing before that, living in a barren wasteland? How did they eat before the sky pellets, which she now knew were provided by the people on the factory-mine?


    Mooster and Grabby were the biggest mysteries of all. She had never had reason to question it growing up, but with her new perspective, the behavior of the two made no sense. They almost never talked, would spend the entire day sitting just outside the entrance to Night¡¯s Safety, then close it up for the night. Mooster didn¡¯t give orders or attempt to control the Bros at all, but he was (somehow) indisputably the leader. Attaboy¡¯s punishment was the only time Lilijoy could remember Mooster departing from his routine, and even that was dispassionate proclamation. He had no personality, no initiative, no spark.


    Grabby had more personality, at least some of the time. Lilijoy could remember a few times that Grabby had hugged her or Attaboy for no apparent reason. Or told them they were good kids. She had a feeling that Grabby was her mother, if only because the other candidates seemed even more unlikely.


    It was tempting to pass off her people¡¯s mental dullness as a product of the pollution from the piles and the general environment. To explain the lack of culture, of curiosity and identity as results of generational trauma, malnutrition and ignorance. All those factors were there. But they didn¡¯t explain the lack of spark, the lack of will. The Bros picked on Attaboy and Lilijoy, made them climb trees over and over, or run endless circles, beat them up for no reason. Only Timout had moments of lucidity when he told them tales of the old times. The whole group was deeply damaged somehow.


    After thinking along these lines for a while, she became aware that Anda had just stopped talking. She gave a grunt to acknowledge whatever it was he had said.


    ¡°Lilijoy, this is important!¡± he urged, seeing her distraction. ¡°The second the data from your trials hits the public there is going to be a firestorm. If anyone connects the results to you in the Outside you will have many of the most powerful clans after you, some for relatively benign reasons, but most to capture you as a resource. You simply can¡¯t afford the attention! Thank god you haven¡¯t put a name in yet or it would already be happening.¡±


    ¡°Do I really need a different name? I don¡¯t even know who I am now,¡± Lilijoy complained.


    ¡°There¡¯s no other choice. Another name; something you like, but completely unconnected to any aspect of your Outside persona.¡±


    ¡°What was your Inside name?¡± she asked.


    Anda gave an embarrassed shrug. ¡°Laibon,¡± he said. ¡°He was an important figure in my people¡¯s mythology, and I was an arrogant idiot.¡± He made a quick head tilt. ¡°Perhaps another reason for a fresh start. The good news is that the Inside name does not need to be unique. In fact, I would recommend a common name, boring even. You can¡¯t change it, but you can also designate an official nickname, so people know what to call you. Many of us come to regret our name choice, so the system gives some leeway.¡±


    Lilijoy wanted to be sure she understood. ¡°I should take a common name with no known connection to me on the Outside. Not that I have connections on the Outside anyway; my tribe doesn¡¯t even have a name.¡±


    Anda nodded.


    ¡°How about Emily?¡± she said.

 Chapter 33: El Duende

    It was finally time for more cultivation.


    Lilijoy closed her eyes and receded into her Soul Space, enjoying the stillness. But not the emptiness.


    I should do some decorating, she thought.


    It wasn¡¯t difficult for her to decide how to start. She pictured a tree, an ancient tree floating with its gnarled roots mirroring its broad spreading branches around the axis of a mighty trunk of thick folded gray bark. Nestled at the first juncture of the roots was her brain space, grown into the trunk as if a boulder had been incorporated over centuries.


    The leaves of the tree were darkest green on one side and pale silver on the other, and if you looked closely, you could see each shape fit just so with its complement to create a perfect circle. She didn¡¯t quite like the way the brain looked, ¡®too squishy¡¯, so she made it into sparkling black basalt, to commemorate the caverns. On a whim, she added giant blackberry thorns, just a few on the trunk and many more on the branches.


    She pulled back to take it all in. It was still missing a certain significance to commemorate her trials the way she wanted. She carefully tailored the roots and branches until they looked just as wild and unkempt, but nineteen roots descended and only eighteen branches reached upward. Among the branches she subtly placed other mementos, a bell for Nandi, a delta winged glider, a small six-legged lizard that wound its sinuous form around any branch not being scrutinized, and a sparkling orb web, occupant conspicuously absent. She decided she would rather not incorporate the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster, but did include a sinister black blade wriggling up the tree¡¯s trunk, almost as if caught between movements.


    Now she was happy. She continued into her mind space, taking the voyage slowly. The anatomical geography was the same as always, but now new geometries of color articulated the ebb and flow of energies in the cortical columns. The integration of her flowers with her neural architecture created a lacework of shimmering reflection that captured the radiance of her innate thought and refracted it on new planes and paths. She hovered, captivated, and she could see her own sense of wonder manifest in front of her, a divine loop of perception.


    Carried along by currents of momentum, she drifted through the area until she passed into the open space of the ventricles, now a jungle of busy vines and flowers weaving through one another¡¯s paths. She continued drifting, condensing into the scale of the Golden Flower and reached out to it, joining it in a new round of creation.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: UNRATED</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>88,998 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>83%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>63%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>3 detected, 1 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy floated in her mind space, savoring her most recent statistics.


    ¡°I have noticed that you experience elevated cortisol when you engage with the submenus of the system,¡± Jiannu chimed in. ¡°I have designed a new interface based on the ranking system widely in use in current culture. Of course, the Tao System has some differences, so it is a bit approximate. If you like it, I can continue to refine it. I will alert you to any important details lost in the simplification, and the new interface should allow a more comfortable relationship with your system as we grow together.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Jiannu! Can I see it now?¡± Lilijoy said. She was very curious to see how she fared in the rankings.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="4">Tao System Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td></td>


    <td>Current</td>


    <td>System Potential</td>


    <td>Notes</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 1: Senses</td>


    <td>7</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>There are unutilized sensory skills currently accessible. More training required. See Details.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 2: Brain</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>Choose pain levels, hunger levels. Set basic mood. Boost. Focus. Non-Tao Systems are primitive in this area. You have far greater capabilities ¨C see Rank 11: Brain II. More training required in emotional modulation, specific somatic feedback dampening</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 3: Reflexes</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>Peripheral nervous system integration and myelin replacement. More training required to integrate sense information into reflex patterns.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 4: Blood</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>Secondary System available</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 5: Skin</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 6: Bone</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 7: Circulatory system</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 8: Muscles</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 9: Nerves</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 10: Organs</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 11: Brain II</td>


    <td>?</td>


    <td>?</td>


    <td>Enhanced neural structures. Tighter coupling with external information sources</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Medical</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>Secondary System available. With significant research and customization there is a possibility these could improved to levels 5 to 10 (requires Tao Stage 2)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Other</td>


    <td></td>


    <td></td>


    <td>


    Infiltration sensor bugs. Tao system will far surpass these in time, but they may have a role in the near term.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She selected the details of Rank One.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3">Rank 1: Sense Details</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vision</td>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>Work on: Integrated visual information (targeting), peripheral awareness, telescoping, expanded wavelengths</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Hearing</td>


    <td>9</td>


    <td>Work on improving spatial mapping, widening audible spectrum</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Smell/Taste</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>


    Develop spatial sense, better chemical and gradient analysis, larger library of identifications. Suggest training with no sight or hearing.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Touch</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>Train greater sensitivity in detail, air currents, focus on hair follicles</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioception</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>Take what you learned from Emily¡¯s piano and apply it to many movement-based skills, particularly acrobatics and martial arts. Practice mirroring ¨C translating sight to movement</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Synergy</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>With experience, begin using senses together much more. Spatial map can be based on all senses simultaneously and can contain near complete information about your local environment.</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy thought about the new display.


    ¡°I really like that you are talking to me through the display,¡¯ she said. ¡°I think you could simplify the language even more. Instead of ¡®emotional modulation¡¯, why don¡¯t you just say, changing your feelings?¡±


    ¡°I think you proved my point," countered Jiannu. ¡°Sometimes big words convey concepts more elegantly and efficiently. As you encounter them, your system will expand your vocabulary. If I only use simple words and phrasing, your thoughts will remain simple as well.¡±


    ¡°But if you really master a subject, can¡¯t you explain with simple words?¡±


    ¡°Ah, but how did you attain true mastery in the first place?¡± countered Jiannu. ¡°It is another wheel that turns, from ignorance to mastery to enlightened ignorance. You must pass through the world to attain heaven.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But it still makes my head hurt when you say stuff like that,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Anyway, I really love it. Now I know what to do to improve.¡±


    ¡°It is important for you to understand that the system requires years of training and skill development. It will make learning everything much easier, but the learning still needs to happen. As you learn more and more, your use of the system will improve as well. There will be many opportunities Inside for new skill acquisition, and you should see rapid improvement in your system there as well.¡±


    ¡°That sounds good. I need to go back Inside pretty soon to change my name. I¡¯m going to use ¡®Emily¡¯. What do you think?¡±


    There was an uncharacteristic silence. It dragged on long enough that Lilijoy started to wonder if Jiannu had missed her question.


    ¡°Jiannu, are you there?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sorry for taking so long. There were some recently recovered logs I wanted to check. Using Emily¡¯s name is fine. I think...¡±


    At that moment a message intruded across Lilijoy¡¯s vision.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>External Message from Anda</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Mode: Local Radiant</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Message Content: Text</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>


    Title: Urgent News


    Lilijoy, I¡¯m sorry to interrupt. There is some news I think you need to hear. I¡¯m not sure if it is urgent, but I also know you will want to hear it (in person) immediately. Please come Outside when you can.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°Sorry Jiannu,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°I need to go now. See you soon!¡±


    ***


    Anda was watching her with an enigmatic expression when she opened her eyes. Eyes alight, mouth tight, his face couldn¡¯t seem to decide if it was excited or concerned. As soon as Lilijoy surfaced, he started talking.


    ¡°I told you that I belong to a group called ¡®Renaissance¡¯. We like to pretend that we are a group of loosely connected activists powered more by idealism than common sense or political pragmatism. The Corp regards us as harmless eccentrics, with no real power to effect change or project power, and they leave us alone for the most part. That is what we want them to think; the reality is quite different.


    We have carefully studied the history of covert organizations and adopted the practices of the most successful. We have information networks in many of the major clans, particularly in the Americas and Africa, all carefully compartmentalized into cell structures. Many of our members don¡¯t even know they belong to an organization; we piggyback on social structures and find philosophically aligned people, carefully helping them to develop their thinking, arranging for information to flow in just the right ways to influence and change beliefs in the background. I like to think that we are the first subconscious secret society.¡±


    Lilijoy wiped the blear from her eyes. ¡°Anda, did you really just interrupt my cultivation to give me a lecture on your club?¡± She couldn¡¯t resist teasing him when he was being so serious. He deserved it anyway, for not getting to the point.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just wanted you to have some background for the information I just received.¡± He was so earnest that she felt bad for interrupting his monologue.


    ¡°Anyway, just a few minutes ago I received an anonymous message that could only have come from higher in the Renaissance organization. It seems that the Sinaloa Clan has been sitting on a little secret. About a month ago they found something unique in the grasslands in the east side of their territory. A mysterious bug that has resisted all analysis. The rumor is that even their best systems shut down immediately as soon as contact is initiated and that attempts to retrieve biological samples have been fruitless.


    Sinaloa are masters of Rank One and Two bugs, thanks to their background as purveyors of the drug bugs that replaced mind-altering substances in the mid-twenty-first century. But they are not good at understanding legacy bugs that fall outside of their specialty. So they are stuck for the moment, refusing to seek help from another clan because they want to keep this mysterious new system for themselves.¡±


    Lilijoy thought she knew where this was going. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s another Tao System?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t told you the best part. It seems the system is contained in an individual who wandered over from the former Amazon region. A boy, twelve or thirteen years old, described as under four feet tall, with signs of environmentally influenced developmental abnormalities. They call him el duende. Would you care to guess what that means?¡±


    This was impossible.


    Lilijoy knew that this was impossible. She refused to let herself feel any emotions. There was simply no way. Images of fingers dripping with bloody mucus, the sound of hacking coughs that ripped and tore at the listener as they did at the lungs. The flopping limp body draped over Grabby¡¯s shoulder, arm waving back and forth as she walked away, waving goodbye.


    Even before her system told her, she knew.


    ¡°Does it mean ¡®goblin¡¯?¡± she asked.

 Chapter 34: Little Mouse

    The hovercraft drifted serenely over flat bubbling ooze. Lilijoy immediately demanded that Anda turn in the direction of Sinaloa territory to rescue Attaboy, insisting that she would get out and wade if he did not. Anda countered that the hovercraft was running very low on energy and would need to recharge over the next few days, if they didn¡¯t find a settlement or source of electricity. She suggested he get out and push.


    Before the conversation degraded completely, Anda had attempted to explain the need for a plan, allies and resources, while Lilijoy explained the need for Attaboy to not be captive in a cell somewhere having his brain chopped out one piece at a time. Having set out their respective conditions, both were sitting on opposite sides of the hovercraft, trying to stay out of each other¡¯s space.


    Lilijoy was alternating between reading The Lord of the Rings and learning to use her Rank Two flowers to create calmness and clarity in her thoughts. Anda sat pondering the impossible task of rescuing a prisoner held somewhere in the vast territory of the Sinaloa Clan, which stretched from the glaciers of Peru up to the snowy wastes of Northern Mexico in a band hundreds of miles wide. He was trying to think of a way to spin this to Renaissance. His organization was extremely reluctant to act for any reason. They preferred to watch and wait, hoarding their obscurity like a dragon hoards treasure.


    Their quiet d¨¦tente was broken by the sight of a hovercraft. Their own hovercraft had active radar, but Anda had turned that off all the way back in Manaus, as it was effectively a beacon for anyone seeking them. Due to this, they became aware of the hovercraft after it had already closed half the distance from the horizon. It was still tiny to the naked eye, but neither of them possessed such a limitation. Lilijoy noticed it first, alerted Anda, and they trained augmented vision on the craft speeding toward them. It appeared to be moving dangerously fast. The nose of the craft was elevated above the tail as it fought to maintain stability against the oncoming air, wobbling back and forth in a chaotic manner.


    ¡°It¡¯s going too fast,¡± said Anda. ¡°That driver is an idiot, or desperate.¡±


    Neither of them could make out any passengers through the tinted canopy, but the reason for the haste became apparent shortly, as five large vehicles appeared on the horizon in pursuit. Lilijoy had never seen this particular type of craft before; they moved faster than the hovercraft, with delta shaped bodies perched on two blades that dipped toward the swamp. At this distance, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t make out if they touched the mud or not.


    Watching the pursuit unfold, Lilijoy turned to Anda. ¡°Do you think this is a coincidence?¡±


    ¡°We are in the middle of hundreds of square miles of total desolation. We could never be that lucky,¡± he said with a grimace. ¡°I¡¯m handing navigation over to you. Take us at ninety degrees to their current course, and we¡¯ll know soon enough if we are involved in this. I¡¯m going to get out the weapons.¡±


    Driving the hovercraft was simple enough that Lilijoy had learned to do it in about a minute a few days ago. The interface was a map with destination points, a speed control, and detailed directional control if desired. There were no physical controls that she knew about, so driving was mostly a matter of deciding where to go, how fast, and where to point. The vehicles were coming from the north, so she set their heading west (toward Attaboy) and punched it.


    In this case, ¡®punched it¡¯ was more ¡®placidly proceeded¡¯. Their craft was not built for speed, and particularly not for acceleration. It was a beast of endurance though. When it had a full charge. Which it really, really didn¡¯t. It had some method of collecting energy from the environment which Lilijoy didn¡¯t care to understand, but it needed a few days of very low activity to top off.


    As they drifted off on the new heading, Anda swore abruptly.


    ¡°You¡¯re never going to believe who is driving the hovercraft,¡± he said. A look of contempt crossed his face. ¡°Our old friend Mo is coming to visit. He just messaged me.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s chasing him?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this either. It¡¯s Sinaloa Clan.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s perfect!¡± she exclaimed, looking far too pleased to Anda.


    ¡°Lilijoy, this is serious. These are bad people. Sinaloa has always been among the most vicious of the clans. They come from bloodshed and crime, and they haven¡¯t moved far from their roots for the most part. We are going to have a hell of a fight on our hands if they decide to take us.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if I let them capture me, they will take me to Attaboy!¡± she said, already scheming.


    ¡°Do you think they would let me go with a pat on the head?¡± he asked. ¡°All that would do would make you or Attaboy expendable to them. They would have no reason not to take out his brain completely if they had another sample.¡±


    That gave her pause for a moment. As she struggled to come up with a diabolical plan suitable to ¡®The Dark Lady of the Thorns¡¯, Mo¡¯s hovercraft veered to join their new trajectory, still gaining rapidly. The Sinaloa craft fanned out, preparing to surround and cut them off and Mo abruptly sliced into a new heading.


    ¡°I told him to veer off, or he would get a bullet,¡± said Anda, brandishing a complicated rectangular gun with a four barrels. <Modified Grier Ribbon Gun> ¡°I don¡¯t know if he led them to us by accident, or if he is working with them. We¡¯ll know if they split.¡±


    ¡°Any weapons for me?¡± She looked at Anda with big pleading eyes.


    ¡°I think I have just the thing,¡± he said, handing her a black knife with a blade as long as her forearm. ¡°Composite material. Probably not as cool as the knife you told me about though.¡±


    If her hands hadn¡¯t been large for her size, the handle would have been too big. As it was, it fit her hand just fine. Unlike the evil knife, it only had one sharp curving edge <Bowie style tactical blade> with a row of jagged teeth on the other side. It was light and swung fast.


    ¡°Thanks, Anda!¡± she chirped.


    Two of the Sinaloa craft broke off to follow Mo, dropping behind them. Another was parallel to them a good distance away, getting ahead to cut them off. The other two converged from two directions.


    ¡°Lilijoy, take our speed down, keep it straight.¡± Anda said softly. He had created a small opening at the side of the canopy and was positioning his rifle¡¯s barrel. He pulled up the interface for his weapon and connected it to the hovercraft¡¯s data flow. Augmented vision skills flowing, the targeted areas of the craft were highlighted, all variables accounted, compensations fed into the weapon. He was using standard variable finned explosive rounds; the nasty ones were better saved for the ships behind him. The range was six hundred meters, and his target the size of a deck of cards, an easy shot with this tracking ammo.


    The amphibious assault craft had two stabilizing pontoons ending in winglike feet, each almost a miniature hovercraft in its own right. These feet adjusted for the lift in the upper body at high speeds and assisted it at lower speeds, creating a highly efficient craft capable of high speeds and good maneuverability.


    He squeezed the trigger, re-targeted and squeezed again in under a second, just as the first round struck the bottom of the left stabilizer. The second shot impacted the middle of the same stabilizer, causing the entire craft to twist sideways and drive the damaged wing-foot into the mud. The materials of these craft were highly resistant to penetration; the passenger compartment and vital mechanisms were very hardened targets. The craft, however, was not resistant to the laws of physics, and it spun once around the grounded wing before deciding to roll and cartwheel across the swamp. He winced in sympathy for the occupants. They were having a hell of a ride, followed by a very nasty swim. If they were lucky.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Lilijoy kept an eye on the two coming up from behind. They were gaining fast, only back a few hundred meters now. The flanking vehicle had just finished cartwheeling across the swamp when they opened fire. Mounted guns at the front of both assault craft tore into the top of the canopy, sending Lilijoy and Anda to the floor as the canopy deformed and shredded into strips that tore off like cloth, falling on them and blowing over the marsh.


    ¡°They¡¯re aiming high!¡± yelled Anda over the numbing percussion of the impacts. Then his voice came to her internally ¡°Show yourself for a second and see what they do.¡±


    Understanding what he was after, she jumped up and looked back, just long enough for them to see her, then fell back down. The two enemy crafts were holding about fifty feet back, maintaining the suppressive fire. When she was visible, the fire paused ever so slightly, before beginning to walk down the canopy to keep them pinned in place.


    ¡°Oops,¡± Anda sent. ¡°I thought they would be more timid.¡±


    Lilijoy responded, ¡°Get ready. This time I¡¯m staying up. Let¡¯s see how bad they want me.¡±


    ¡°Hold on...crap,¡± said Anda as Lilijoy defiantly leapt to her feet. She faced the two assault vehicles and gave them the finger with her good hand, screaming something incoherent in her high voice. She messaged Anda at the same time.


    ¡°3, 2, 1. Now!¡± As she counted down for Anda the gunners made the split-second decision not to shred their prize into bloody scraps, and quickly walked the guns away from her. Anda put his gun over her shoulder and fired three shots.


    I never thought I would be using a twelve-year-old girl for cover, he thought as he pushed her back down with the barrel of the gun.


    ¡°Remind me to get some drones,¡± he sent to her.


    He fell on top of her holding his gun up high, as his ammunition encountered the canopy of the right-hand vehicle. This time, he had used the nasty stuff. The bullets smacked into the material, leaving tiny cracks in the top layer and adhering. That was plenty for the bugs filling the rounds to get a foothold. His gun could fire four rounds at a time, so in a fraction of a second, twelve scratches turned into twelve holes, and a portion of the enemy''s canopy began to sag and fall.


    That was all he needed. He used the camera at the end of the gun barrel to fire the antipersonnel bullets from where he lay, holding continuous fire for three seconds. Dozens of bullets came out of the barrels, forming small pinwheels as the heat of their travel stripped their covers. By the time the short-range weapons had traveled to the enemy, the micro-wire bolos had expanded to several feet in diameter, filling the interior with slicing tangling threads. The threads were coated with several different fast acting neurotoxins. Hope they have good med bugs, he thought. Just not too good.


    In the seconds this action took, the other vehicle approached more closely, and gained elevation to aim carefully into the body of the hovercraft. Several controlled shots made hollow phutting sounds and Anda¡¯s body jerked with the impacts. Trapped under his body, Lilijoy screamed. The reality of the situation had just hit her. This was no simulation, and they would not be waking up a few hundred meters away if they died.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Anda¡¯s voice sounded inside her head. ¡°It takes a special bullet to get through my skin. One of my people¡¯s specialties, you know. Keep, screaming, though, it sets the scene nicely.¡±


    Lilijoy swore at him in her head while she screamed and whimpered out loud.


    ¡°Can you see what¡¯s going on?¡± Anda asked.


    ¡°A little.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s better than me,¡± he replied. ¡°I have to play dead for a bit. Tell Jiannu to pass me your visuals. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll know what to do. I have one angle out of the rifle camera, and don¡¯t forget we both have echolocation. Mine was getting a bit confused with all the noise, but it¡¯s back now."


    Lilijoy had almost forgotten. She focused and formed her overhead view. Her fake screams were distorting it a bit, and there were odd blind spots where the canopy still stood, but she could see that the assault vehicle was pulling up next to them. The canopy was opening, and three men were preparing to step out and into their hovercraft.


    ¡°Look at how they move,¡± Anda sent her. ¡°Not smooth or controlled. These are grunts.¡±


    ¡°?¡± she sent.


    ¡°Foot soldiers. Lower Rank. We can take them. I¡¯ll go high, you go low.¡±


    ¡°Very funny.¡±


    ¡°Two handguns and a knife. I¡¯ve got an angle on one with a gun now. Taking a shot.¡±


    The gun, which had fallen propped up over Lilijoy¡¯s and Anda¡¯s torsos, spat a few quick rounds before the recoil spun it around and onto the floor.


    ¡°Physical triggers are an affectation,¡± Anda sent.


    Then he kicked out with both legs at the man who had hopped down behind him, missing but using the momentum to spring up from his arms, palms on either side of Lilijoy¡¯s head. The bullets missed as well but sent all three enemies diving for cover. In the now crowded interior of the hovercraft. Lilijoy scrambled to a crouch and hurled herself onto a pair of legs, slashing with her blade. The man¡¯s pants and flesh parted easily, though it just wasn¡¯t the same with a knife that wasn¡¯t so into it.


    Hands scrabbled at her head, but the man had no chance as one of Anda¡¯s feet came down on his chest, giving Lilijoy a clear shot at his femoral artery. Thanks medical skill, she thought. Anda had thrown himself backwards at one of the pistol wielders in his push off the floor, taking another shot in the back at close range. He shrugged it off as he stumbled backwards with the man caught behind him. As his foot found the place on Lilijoy¡¯s victim, the man behind him was caught on the tattered edge of the canopy. It caused no damage, but when Anda thrust back with his hips, the man was pushed over the canopy to fall with a wet sucking sound into the muck below.


    Both vehicles were traveling at a low speed, and the sounds of the man''s struggles in the bubbling mud faded in seconds. The last man stood, recovered from his dive to avoid Anda¡¯s rifle. He held a knife much like Lilijoy¡¯s, only twice as long <machete>. He half swung it into Anda, who blocked it with his hand. The man¡¯s eyes widened briefly, and then diverted to the side, following a fourth man who had just vaulted out of the assault craft, firing two pistols as he twisted in the air. Both shots struck Anda in the forehead directly between his eyes and flung him back onto the floor of the hovercraft, his body spasming.


    Lilijoy took advantage of machete man¡¯s distraction to push her knife up under his rib cage. One advantage of being short is good leverage, she mused. As he fell, she turned to the new figure, who had landed crouched, balanced on the back of one of the seats.


    "Anda?" Lilijoy messaged.


    There was a moment of stillness. The man...no, the woman, looked at Lilijoy and smiled. Then she pointed her left gun at Lilijoy and gestured to the assault craft.


    Lilijoy shook her head and held her knife in front of her, listening for Anda¡¯s heart where she stood. It was beating, so she felt a bit better. He hadn''t replied though.


    ¡°Get out of here!¡± she yelled, frustrated by the woman¡¯s odd smirk. The woman shook her head and holstered her guns. She languidly lowered her legs to the floor, somehow not moving her upper body.


    Then the floor of the hovercraft came up to meet Lilijoy''s face, and her knife hand was somehow held behind her back. Her dead arm dangled uselessly, as always, trapped under her torso uncomfortably. A voice softly sang in her ear, inflected with an accent new to her. <Colombian>


    ¡°Little mouse, little mouse, playtime is over. Make me happy and you can have all the pleasures this world has to offer. Make me sad, and I will cut off your arms and legs and hang you on the wall for decoration. What do you think little mouse? Shall we go to my house?¡± She chuckled at her rhyme, unfortunately.


    Lilijoy slumped. This was the first time she had faced an opponent so much quicker than her. Even the spider hadn¡¯t moved so fast. This woman could crush her with one arm behind her back. Even boost wouldn¡¯t help; she was sure the woman could do something similar, not that she would need to.


    She nodded her head.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear that, little mouse. Should I ask one more time?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Yes, I¡¯ll go with you.¡±


    Tears of frustration welled up. She could see Anda¡¯s still form from where she lay, couldn¡¯t look away even if she wanted to, with her face crushed against the floor. The pressure slowly abated, and she was allowed to stand. The woman hopped up to the side of the hovercraft, where the canopy used to be, not even bothering to keep contact with Lilijoy. She gestured impatiently. Lilijoy hopped up beside her and eyed the gap between the two vehicles. The scummy surface of the swamp passed ten feet below.


    She hopped across quickly and turned to face the woman, who casually hopped as well. As her foot touched the edge, Lilijoy swung her left shoulder, whipping her useless arm up to the woman¡¯s face. The rhyming woman made a scoffing noise and grabbed it, as Lilijoy spun, impossibly, all the way around to the right, to shove her with all of her tiny weight. There was a soft crack. The woman¡¯s face went from amused to bewildered, too horrified as she lost her balance and fell into the passing mud, still holding Lilijoy¡¯s left arm.

 Chapter 35: Tasks

    As Lilijoy crouched next to Anda¡¯s still form, she continued to replay the satisfying moment in her head, mostly to distract herself from the blood pooling the bottom of the hovercraft. The woman¡¯s arms and legs flailing to find purchase. The realization in her face that no matter how fast or acrobatic you are, empty air and gravity will have their way.


    The words of the woman as she receded still haunted her a bit.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come for you, little mouse and take the other one! And your eyes and skin and mmppph.¡±


    At that point, a large bubble erupted underneath her, and the woman¡¯s body vanished into the muck. The last Lilijoy had seen was the woman¡¯s hand protruding from the mud, still holding Lilijoy¡¯s forearm and hand, desperately trying to paddle back to the surface with it.


    Lilijoy felt some regret that she didn¡¯t get in any parting words. She could have said, ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t mean to ¡®arm you,¡± or ¡°Now I¡¯m as ¡®armless as I look.¡±


    While it was nice to distract herself with bad puns, Anda¡¯s injuries were not going away. There was a clear depression where the bullets had fractured the bone under his skin.


    ¡°Holy crap, Anda, what is your skin made of anyway?¡± she said aloud. He was still unresponsive to her messages, and her sensing skills indicated a large mass of fluid forming over his brain at the site of the injury. She contemplated making a hole to release the pressure, something her medical intuition told her was possible, but she wasn¡¯t sure she had any tools that could penetrate Anda¡¯s skin.


    ¡°Jiannu, this is an emergency. Can I cultivate the med bugs early?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes. It will throw off your cultivation for a day or so, and the med bugs will be unimproved. The biggest problem is time. Cultivating a large number of med bugs at your current rate will not be quick. I estimate one hour for twenty million, due to the heat bottleneck, and a clinical dose would be a minimum of five hundred million. Around a billion would be best.¡±


    Lilijoy digested the information. Her intuition told her that Anda needed help immediately. The pressure on his brain and the injuries from bone fragments were only getting worse. He had a few hours at the most.


    ¡°How would I get the med bugs into him?¡± She feared the answer to this one a bit, remembering her own introduction to suppositories.


    ¡°The med bugs will migrate to any part of your body. Skin to skin contact is all that is needed, though thinner skin such as the eyes or lips will be faster and cause less attrition to the bugs. I can¡¯t predict how Anda¡¯s skin will behave to med bug penetration, so I suggest the eyes.¡±


    Answering Lilijoy¡¯s next question in advance, she went on to say, ¡°As long as you maintain proximity of a foot or so, we should be able to control their activity. With a traumatic brain injury, it would be best if we guide them, or they might not prioritize correctly, which could have a poor outcome.¡±


    ¡°Okay. We can¡¯t wait until I have a billion. I¡¯m going to start now and send them as they are made. I just need to set up a few things.¡±


    Lilijoy jumped over to the assault craft, which she had tethered to their own. An imposing bank of physical controls and handles met her sight.


    ¡°Crap,¡± she muttered. ¡°Guess the Sinaloa like to use their hands. Jiannu, is there any way to control the Sinaloa craft remotely?¡±


    ¡°There are no open protocols I can find. Perhaps there is an air-gap switch of some kind?¡±


    Lilijoy scanned the panels and levers. Too many gauges and screens to handle in her current haste. Then she found a red handle on the side of the main console that looked like it would cause some contacts to extend into a waiting alcove.


    ¡°Hope it doesn¡¯t blow me up,¡± she said as she leaned into it with all her might. The handle resisted at first, then capitulated suddenly and the ports on the side connected. The panel instruments went dark.


    ¡°I can see it now,¡± said Jiannu.


    ¡°Good,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Now here¡¯s what I want you to do.¡±


    ***


    Two Sinaloa assault craft scorched the twilight air over the Amazon¡¯s dead marsh, blowing great swirls of glowing swamp gas in their wake. They had been ordered to abandon pursuit of Mo¡¯s hovercraft just as they were engaging, but that was nothing compared to the threat they were under if they failed to accomplish their task.


    Just before the commander¡¯s signal was cut off by several feet of water and mud, she ordered them to bring her a certain number of heads. They had a choice as to exactly which number. One head, if it belonged to a certain girl gob. Six if they chose to substitute their own. If those weren¡¯t available, then the heads could easily be obtained from their families. The capture order was rescinded on the commander''s authority, but the intact head was crucial. This much had been made painfully clear before signal loss.


    The crafts blew past the scene of the initial conflict, ignoring the two disabled vehicles. They flew over their commander¡¯s mud bath without even knowing. She could be rescued later, as her blood bugs would keep her alive for a couple hours.


    ¡°Anything on radar?¡± asked one.


    ¡°Nothing but flat out here,¡± came the answer. ¡°We¡¯ve got visibility to twenty miles, some clutter from swamp gasses.¡±


    ¡°Any shadows?¡±


    ¡°Rolling terrain here and there. Shouldn¡¯t be enough to hide movement.¡±


    ¡°This could take a while. Be a shame if we couldn¡¯t get back to the commander in time.¡±


    ¡°That would be a shame, wouldn¡¯t it? I¡¯ll be real thorough.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the top speed on their boat?¡±


    ¡°Forty, fifty at the most. We should be on them by now.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they took our bird?¡±


    ¡°Then what happened to theirs?¡±


    ¡°Sank it.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t sink those things. They practically float on air, forget about water.¡±


    ¡°Right. Towed it?¡±


    ¡°Not impossible. Hey, do ours sink in a swamp like this?¡±


    ¡°Depends. Eventually if they¡¯re torn up enough, probably never if intact.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Tell Juarez to split off from us, cover more area. We¡¯ll circle back in, say, three hours?¡±


    ¡°That would be just right.¡±


    ***


    A dark sea flowed around jagged teeth of bone, lit by sparse currents of pale light. The currents swirled and converged around the sharpest edges, eroding and softening. A thin shaft of illumination marked where a channel grew, growing to release the abyssal pressure created by the influx of new fluid around the site of the injury. All around the periphery, a gentle green glow marked the release of soothing anti-inflammatories. The terrain was a cratered battleground, where gentle rolling folds gave way to a rough-edged caldera of fragmented tissue.


    ¡°This is bad, Jiannu.¡±


    Lilijoy had been working through the med bugs for over two hours, lying unaware with her lips pressed against Anda¡¯s eye. The bugs were doing what they could, but it was a losing battle. The progression of the injury overwhelmed her ability to cultivate and guide the bugs.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to lose him if I don¡¯t do something drastic.¡± Like I lost Sar Noda.


    She withdrew her lips slightly, moving them to the site of the injury. ¡°Can you direct the newest wave to erode his skin?¡±


    ¡°I can do that. We will be increasing the chance of introducing hostile microbes into the injury.¡±


    ¡°The bugs can deal with that later. I need to pull out some of the bone pieces; the bugs are just too slow at their current levels.¡±


    After delivering the bugs to weaken his skin, she pulled away for a moment. The cramped confines were utterly dark, but her augmented senses and ongoing connection to the med bugs illuminated her task all too well.


    Wishing she had something, anything smaller, she awkwardly brought the tip of the tactical bowie knife to Anda¡¯s forehead and attempted an incision across the soft concavity. The skin parted, almost dissolved under the knife, revealing a chaotic mess of disrupted tissues. She couldn¡¯t make any sense out of it, even with expanded senses.


    ¡°Jiannu, take out everything but the bones.¡±


    Her vision flickered and resolved into a new scene, two tightly overlapped radial patterns of shattered fragments hanging within the cavity, thrust inward like a little mountain ridge.


    ¡°Jiannu, dial up my focus and suppress adrenaline. I need my hands steady.¡±


    Magnified in her enhanced vision, the tip of the knife was an enormous wedge of shadow pushing up from underneath the mountain range of bone fragments.


    ¡°Crap! I¡¯m just making this worse. How can I pull these things out?¡±


    She racked her brain. No tools other than the knife. Maybe she could use some thread or hair to make tiny lassos? Convince the bugs to tie them to the fragments and¡­no. What she really needed was something that could just suck the bone out.


    Wait...oh god.


    This was going to suck. Literally.


    ***


    A formation of drones stalked the night air above the former rainforest, their operators sitting safe and warm back in the city of New Manaus. Acting on a tip about a significant incursion into the dead zone between Sinaloa clan and Lone Star clan territories, the small fleet¡¯s mission was to investigate and punish if necessary. They were currently tracking two Sinaloan amphibious assault craft who had wandered deep into the wastelands, close to Lone Star holdings. Too close.


    ¡°Firin¡¯ warnin¡¯ shots,¡± said a voice with an exaggerated twang.


    ¡°You git em?¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah. I warned those Sinny rock boxes right off of livin''.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s about right! Any more crawlin¡¯ round out there?¡±


    ¡°Looks like we got a couple belly up a ways south. No life signs. Another lonesome guy to the west. He next?¡±


    ¡°Think that¡¯s our tipster. Let¡¯im breathe. Take another spin round the dial, then round em up.¡±


    ¡°Rodger that.¡±


    ***


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Unaware of the flare-up in clan relations going on around her, Lilijoy had other concerns. Mostly finding water to rinse the nasty texture of blood and bone fragments and god knows what else out of her mouth. She had turned off her taste and smell for the experience, suppressed her gag reflex, and dialed up focus to the point that she wasn¡¯t aware of anything beyond tracking the movements within Anda¡¯s wound as she carefully applied suction. That made it bearable, even clinical.


    The aftermath was a different story though. Spitting to the side yet again, she contemplated the injury. The pressure and embedded bone were much improved, and her latest round of med bugs was doing their best to control the side effects of her improvised treatment.


    It was still really ugly in there, but she felt that the worst was over. The rest was just continuing to pour med bugs into the injury and waiting to see the impact on Anda¡¯s mind. Her medical intuition told her that he could expect some mental impairment; primarily lack of impulse control and focus. Other possible symptoms were too variable to predict. She hoped his bugs could help with the recovery once the active injury was under control. That gave her an idea.


    ¡°Jiannu, can we give the Tao system to Anda?¡±


    ¡°Eventually. Once you have Stage two complete, or nearly so, we will be able to craft satellites that can leave our body. They will be able to enter Anda¡¯s brain and replace his current system. Our stage one flowers could enter his brain and assist, but the risk of complications with his current system added to his injury makes that a poor idea. Stage two involves integration and incorporation of your existing neurons, and we can¡¯t use those in his brain without a host of difficulties. Once we have satellites, a world of possibilities opens up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s at least a year away!¡± she complained. ¡°Isn¡¯t there some way to go faster?¡±


    ¡°Not unless you can improve the way your brain and body handle waste heat,¡± Jiannu reminded her. ¡°If we can find a Rank Seven bug, we will be able to proceed much faster.¡±


    ¡°Great. I wonder where we can get those.¡± She sighed. ¡°Oh well, another priority added to the list. I need to get stronger, so I can rescue Attaboy as soon as possible. That means spending time Inside to work on all the skills I need for that. Now I need to finish Stage two, so I can help Anda, so I have to find Rank Seven bugs. I need to keep hiding from the clans in both worlds. I need to find out where Attaboy is being held. And while I¡¯m doing all that, I want to find out why all of this is happening to me, where my people came from, what really happened with the Tao system, and why Guardian didn¡¯t microwave me.¡±


    ¡°You have many tasks Lilijoy. I will always be here to help.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Jiannu.¡± Lilijoy sat and recovered for a few minutes. She didn¡¯t dare to turn her smell or taste back on and she realized that she had been lying in a drying pool of blood for several hours. Her skin itched and she had to pee.


    She checked the visuals from the assault craft. Only blooping mud and wisps of luminescence disturbed the stillness of the marsh. The other Sinaloa craft, the one that Anda had used the crazy flying wires on, <bola bullets> rested on the surface several hundred meters away.


    Lilijoy and Anda were parked on top of the first craft he had shot, now sunk under the mud. It had come to rest on its side in the swamp. On top of them was the craft they had stolen, covered in mud with the canopy left open on both sides. Its weight pressed down on their own loyal steed, nearly forcing it beneath the mud. I¡¯m in a hovercraft sandwich.


    To an outside observer, The assault craft rested gently on the surface of the mud, concealing the smaller hovercraft. She had watched with glee as the returning Sinaloans had blown right past the wreckage, presumably on their way to catch up with the escaping fugitives. She hoped they had caught Mo first and given him what he deserved.


    She had been worried about getting caught before she could get back to the scene of the first battle, but it hadn¡¯t taken long at all to park on top of the half sunken assault craft and then remotely pilot the captured craft on top of them. The only drawback was that she and Anda had almost no space in the hull, and that some of the fetid swamp liquid had spilled over the sides. She didn¡¯t mind enclosed spaces and Anda was in no state to care, so it all worked out. She was rather proud of the whole production.


    It was still possible that the remaining Sinaloans could come back to look for survivors and salvage the craft. That had been a secondary concern when stabilizing Anda, but now she needed to plan.


    ¡°Jiannu, how far can the sensors of the assault craft see?¡±


    ¡°Sitting on the surface, not great. Maybe six or seven miles unless they are flying higher than normal.¡±


    ¡°Only a couple minutes warning. That¡¯s not good.¡±


    She found a water pouch for a drink and then took care of bodily necessities. One more source of waste won¡¯t change much, she thought. Then she settled in for the night, as she couldn¡¯t come up with a better option. Between rounds of reading and research, she infused Anda with more med bugs, finally allowing herself a few hours of uncomfortable, uneasy sleep before sunrise.


    She was awakened by an alert from Jiannu.


    ¡°One slow moving vehicle approaching from the west. Estimated arrival in ten to twelve minutes.¡±


    Lilijoy had considered many scenarios, but this threw her for a loop.


    ¡°Let¡¯s prepare the ambush we planned. Maybe it¡¯s just someone coming to see what happened.¡±


    She infused Anda once again, and checked his health carefully. He was still stable; the improvised shunt was keeping the fluid from pressing on his brain, the internal bleeding was contained and inflammation was within acceptable levels. He remained in a deep coma.


    Normally, Lilijoy didn¡¯t mind being small, but it sure would have been convenient to move Anda to the faster craft and escape the area. She had even contemplated tipping the hovercraft to dump him into the assault craft, but she couldn¡¯t risk exacerbating his injuries, or even killing him.


    ¡°I have a visual on the vehicle. Relaying it now.¡±


    There it was, lit by the dim gloom of the rising sun-blob. A small, familiar craft she had last seen with its front in the air waving like a leaf in a stiff breeze.


    ¡°Mo.¡± She grunted his name like a curse. ¡°Prepare the ambush.¡±


    ***


    Mo was feeling clever. Lucky too. His guy in Lone Star had come through, and the last he had heard, the two craft that had nearly been the death of him were blown to pieces somewhere to the north. Now he had a chance to pick up some goodies, courtesy of Sinaloa. He approached the closest of the two assault craft, its canopy melted and shredded. When he looked in, bodies and pieces of bodies filled the damaged interior. He whistled.


    ¡°Shee-it, Anda. If I¡¯d known you were this bad-ass, I would have brought in a few more friends to take the gob back at the platform. Lesson learned, I guess.¡±


    He jumped into the bloody mess and extracted some weapons and personal items from the bodies. He considered taking the vehicle for a moment, but decided the other was probably in better condition. Hopping back into his hovercraft with the loot, he moved over to the next target.


    This one was in much better shape. As he approached, it became clear that any damage was cosmetic, and his greed began to rise. He would be set for a long time if he could drive off in this and auction it in Manaus. He maneuvered around, looking through the open sides of the canopy, and noted the surprising lack of bodies or any signs of violence. He tried to put together a scenario for why an intact assault craft would have been abandoned, but the best he could come up with was a mechanical failure.


    He opened his canopy and prepared to hop over. Just as his foot was leaving the deck, the assault craft shuddered and lifted several feet, catching him off balance.


    Mo had spent years perfecting his heavy-footed, foul-mouthed persona, and those who only knew his public face would have been amazed by his agility as he turned what should have been a muddy plunge into a graceful leap, planting one foot onto the side of the rising craft and propelling himself into a back flip. He landed back in his own vehicle in a crouch and looked up, into the tall rectangular barrel of Anda¡¯s rifle, propped on the back of a seat belonging to a hovercraft that had very much seen better days. His eyes traced the barrel back to a bloody and ferociously grinning Lilijoy, who pressed the trigger.


    Even with superhuman reflexes, a bullet can¡¯t be dodged from close range. What can be dodged is an intent, the moment that the wielder finds the target and begins the muscle contractions to initiate the shot. In the split second before Lilijoy fired, Mo read her intention and threw himself out of the line of fire. The rifle was far too large for her even if she had two arms, and she had been forced to prop it on a seat back; she couldn¡¯t follow him with the barrel quickly. After the understated discharge blew four huge holes in the deck, Mo sheltered behind the front row of seats and called out.


    ¡°Damn, girl! That¡¯s one hell of a big gun. Any chance we could talk this out?¡±


    Lilijoy, who was busy repositioning said gun to finish off the man who had plagued her so much, felt a strange sensation. She knew she should get rid of him. After all, he had ruined her trip off the factory-mine, ruined her stay at the bomb shelter, and was responsible for leading five Sinaloa assault craft straight to her and Anda. The last week would have been much different without Mo sabotaging her efforts to remain hidden. So why was she hesitating?


    ¡°You know I can blow you up through those seats,¡± she called out. ¡°Stand up and show your hands, and maybe I won¡¯t need to kill you.¡± She fired a single round from one of the four sub-barrels through the seat just next to him to prove her point.


    ¡°Hey, hey take it easy!¡± he yelled over ¡°I¡¯m standing, I¡¯m standing.¡± He slowly emerged from his crouch, rising with both hands in the air. ¡°This isn¡¯t about the whole ¡®gob¡¯ thing is it?¡± he asked, with an innocent look on his face. ¡°I¡¯m real sorry about that. I¡¯ve got a certain reputation as a foul-mouthed son of a bitch to uphold, you see.¡±


    She looked back at him with contempt.


    ¡°It¡¯s your fault that Anda got shot. It¡¯s your fault that I got attacked by vampires. Twice!¡± She was shaking with rage now and felt no desire to tamp it down. ¡°You are a bad man and I bet no one would cry if you never came back!¡± Her trigger fingers twitched. But she still didn¡¯t act.


    Mo¡¯s face twitched. ¡°You¡¯re right you know. I can¡¯t even go Inside anymore cause everyone there hates me.¡±


    Lilijoy stared at him coldly. Was his lip trembling? She dialed up her senses and tuned in his heartbeat, which was pounding, and his heat patterns, which were less then helpful due to his recent exertion and surprise. She wanted to shoot him and be done, but that sensation of hesitancy nagged at her. Did she feel pity? No. Guilt? No. Was it because she valued life? No, definitely not.


    Lilijoy valued nature, which was altogether different.


    Then she realized what was bothering her, why she hesitated. She needed Mo alive to help her.


    The Sinaloan assault craft, controlled by Jiannu, withdrew twenty feet and rotated to face Mo. Two under-mounted machine guns swiveled and locked on to him. Lilijoy relaxed and lowered Anda¡¯s rifle to the floor. Even resting on the seat back, the effort to balance the cumbersome thing while keeping her hand around a trigger meant for Anda-sized hands had her muscles burning and her heart pumping. Naturally, it was at this point she remembered she could fire the gun mentally as well as manually.


    ¡°Here¡¯s what you are going to do,¡± she said to Mo. ¡°I need help moving Anda safely. Do a good job and I might let you go.¡±


    Then a logistical nightmare began. Lilijoy refused to be in the same craft as Mo. She wanted Anda brought to the assault craft. It used some kind of fuel that was half gone, but it also had the more efficient standing pressure wave drive that the hovercrafts used as a backup. Once the fuel was gone, they would be slower than ever, but at least they would be armed and clean.


    Unfortunately, when Mo brought Anda to the assault craft, she would have to cover him with the rifle again, which was a risky proposition.


    ¡°Mo,¡± she said. ¡°Do you have any smaller guns?¡±


    He looked at her with surprise, then slowly nodded. ¡°Handguns on the floor here.¡±


    That earned him a point. Lilijoy figured that he was starting at about negative two thousand, so he had a ways to go to earn sufficient good will.


    ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°Get out on top of your canopy and move to the very front.¡±


    He moved smoothly to do as she directed. When he was in position, she hopped into his craft and closed shut the canopy. The guns were in a little pile, along with some jewelry and other knickknacks. She picked one up.


    ¡°Jiannu, technical overlay.¡±


    All the information she needed to understand the weapon was placed appropriately in her vision. The <safety> was highlighted in green, which turned red when she flicked the switch. The pistol had a magazine status readout which indicated a full load. There was even a floating white arrow indicating how to point it. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if that was entirely necessary, but she wasn¡¯t complaining.


    She raised the weapon with one hand, and immediately felt the urge to brace it with her missing arm.


    That¡¯s not going to happen, she thought, and immediately added another item to her long list of vitally important tasks. Better get a new arm soon.


    Her system-guided intuition compromised with a straight-armed stance that relied on good footing and an involved core. Her muscle groups weren¡¯t quite acting on their own, but somehow, she knew just how to place her dominant foot, how much shoulder to turn into the direction of fire and other fine adjustments that just felt right as she made them.


    She turned to see Mo watching her through the canopy with an eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Better watch the recoil on that one,¡± he called through the barrier. ¡°It¡¯s little, but it packs a kick. Sorry about your arm! Was that my fault too?¡±


    She couldn¡¯t tell if he was serious or not. ¡°Only partly,¡± she called back. ¡°I¡¯m going to fire this once or twice. Don¡¯t fall off!¡±


    She popped the first door panel and squeezed off a shot into the water. The explosive force was more than she expected, body intuition or not, and it felt like her shoulder was dislocated for several moments. Her ears really hurt; this little pistol was louder than any other gun she had heard and it came as quite a shock. She noticed that Mo was saying something, but she couldn¡¯t make out the words. As she turned to look at him, she could hear his voice strangely overlaid on the ringing in her ears. Startled, she looked away and his voice faded too.


    ¡°...recommend firing an un-cancelled weapon inside the¡­.¡± was all she got.


    Well, that''s interesting, she thought. It seemed her eyes could figure out what he was saying when her ears couldn¡¯t. Another miracle from the system.


    She motioned with the pistol for Mo to hop onto the other hovercraft. He had a look of disgust as he jumped into the blood soaked compartment, nearly stepping on the body of Lilijoy¡¯s first victim from the earlier battle. He was saying something again, but faced away from her, so she only caught snippets.


    ¡°...uck happened to him? His...rotten melon...something...kill him!¡±


    She assumed he must be commenting on Anda¡¯s current state. She wished her hearing would come back. She was surprised by how much she had integrated her echolocation into her sensory world, and felt oddly exposed without it. She braced her pistol again and took aim at his torso. She also kept the machine guns trained on him, as she planned to do until the last moment of the maneuver.


    ¡°Pick him up!¡± She yelled, her voice distant in her ears. He looked back at her with a dubious expression, and she could see his lips clearly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if this kills him! I don¡¯t know much, but even I know not to manhandle someone whose head looks like that.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t too worried. Her stabilization had worked so far, and she could help Anda more once they were safe.


    ¡°Just do it!¡± she yelled. He winced at the volume of her voice, and then bent and picked Anda up in his arms. ¡°Move to your left side!¡±


    As soon as he reached the side of the hull, she brought the assault craft over, as close as she could. It was still well above the swamped hovercraft, but Mo was able to lift Anda¡¯s body up an extra foot and slide him over to its deck.


    She was prepared to shoot him immediately if necessary but was caught by surprise as he quickly slithered up after Anda as a follow-up to heaving his weight.


    Before she could react, Mo and Anda were in the assault craft together, with Mo sheltering behind Anda¡¯s prone form.

 Chapter 36: Gob

    Lilijoy wanted to shoot Mo. Really, really wanted to. The slippery piece of crap was up on the assault craft, hiding behind Anda¡¯s body. And he was laughing.


    ¡°Can you believe this,¡± he said between chortles. ¡°It¡¯s just the three of us again, only this time it¡¯s Anda who¡¯s about to croak. Shit girl, you¡¯ve got a gun and you know how to use it and everything.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t see any humor. ¡°Why are you like this?¡± she asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything to you. What do you think you will get anyway?¡±


    Mo was abruptly serious. ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally sweetheart. I¡¯m just following the money. Bugs like you¡¯ve got are a once in a lifetime opportunity. You found them first, that¡¯s all, bad luck for you.¡±


    He paused in thought for a second. ¡°Now here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen. I¡¯m going to sit here all quiet, and not accidentally put my thumb into our friend¡¯s skull. You are going to put down the gun. No, wait.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Even better, you are going to take all the guns from my hovercraft and toss them into your old one.¡±


    He waved a hand toward the blood covered mess. ¡°Go on! Get it done. My thumb is feeling a little twitchy.¡±


    He made a show of putting his hand over Anda¡¯s face. Lilijoy would have loved to take a shot, but with one arm and a bad angle it was never going to happen in time. She reluctantly threw her pistol over, and then picked up the other guns and tossed them, one at a time, over into the muck on the bottom of her hovercraft. Mo was sitting up and smiling broadly as she finished.


    ¡°There, that wasn¡¯t so bad! Now we have a decis¡­¡±


    His speech was interrupted at that point by a knife that materialized in his left shoulder. He looked at Lilijoy for one frozen moment, as if wondering how she could have possibly pulled this off. She looked back and shrugged, and then they were both diving for cover, trying to find the source of the projectile. Her hearing was not recovered enough to echolocate, but she clearly heard the sucking sound of muck reluctantly releasing as a lithe and extremely muddy form hauled itself out of the swamp and on to the half sunken hovercraft.


    ¡°Hello little mouse. I see you brought a new playmate!¡± said the rhyming woman in a cheery tone. ¡°Thanks for the guns! I guess you¡¯re ¡®armless after all.¡±


    ¡°What the holy fuck is happening?¡± came Mo¡¯s voice from behind Anda ¡°Who¡¯s the swamp bitch? And did she just make a pun?¡±


    The ¡®swamp bitch¡¯ was busy gathering up a couple pistols from the floor of the hovercraft. ¡°That¡¯s much better,¡± she said. ¡°I actually felt naked for a little while.¡± The only clothing she wore was a band around one leg, but she stood casually, dripping gobs of mud. ¡°This better do wonders for my skin, or I¡¯m going to take it out of yours,¡± she announced to all present.


    ¡°Lady, I don¡¯t know who you are, but I just called in drones from Lone Star,¡± Mo said. ¡°I suggest you jump back in and swim the fuck out of here.¡±


    She seemed unconcerned. ¡°Oh goody! A drone race. Whose do you think will get here first?¡±


    ¡°Nice try swamp thing. Lone Star¡¯s drones are the best.¡±


    ¡°But are they the closest?¡±


    While the two bantered back and forth about whose aerial support was better, Lilijoy considered the situation. The assault craft was still an easy jump away for the woman. Lilijoy guessed she was waiting to find out more about Mo¡¯s capabilities before taking the risk.


    ¡°Hey, rhyming woman!¡± she stood and yelled, hoping to distract her.


    Without looking, the woman fired a shot in Lilijoy¡¯s direction, just past her left ear. She kept the other gun trained in Mo¡¯s direction.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you. Be a good little mouse and keep quiet while I play.¡±


    Lilijoy fell backwards, partly by choice, partly from shock at the woman¡¯s prowess. This was the strength she wanted for herself. Only with less creep.


    There were a variety of blades scattered on the floor from Mo¡¯s earlier looting, and she made sure to grab one after she fell. Then she put her plan into action.


    Mo was almost enjoying the wild ride. The last few days of his life had been one improvisation after another, an oddly liberating creative spree of deception and intrigue, all toward recovering his prize. He just knew it was going to work out, even as the situation spiraled out of his control in this oddly surreal way. He wasn¡¯t sure how Sinaloa had found him as he tracked Anda through the swamp, following the sporadic, single glowing pixel on the ancient infrared weather satellite. Maybe a leak in Lone Star or Boggs¡¯ gang.


    After the debacle in Manaus, Boggs had been mildly irate, which was, for anyone else, a raging tantrum. Luckily the anger was not directed at him. He had even been given a little taste of blood bugs for his information.


    So it was with no fear that he removed the throwing knife in his shoulder, feeling the wound seal off as soon as the metal left his flesh. This new woman was a bad-ass, no doubt. He probably couldn¡¯t take her in a straight fight, and now she had guns as well. He wasn¡¯t sure who would prevail if she jumped for him guns blazing but he didn¡¯t like his odds much. His bluff with the drones hadn¡¯t gone well either. This close to his goal, he didn¡¯t want to share the windfall with Lone Star. They could bid along with everyone else, when the time came. He hoped she was bluffing about her drones too. Go big or go home, he thought. He just wasn¡¯t sure what ¡®big¡¯ was quite yet.


    The standoff broke a moment later. Anda¡¯s rifle, sitting forgotten in the bottom of the old hovercraft near the rhyming woman, went off on full automatic, firing a variety of ammunition around the floor of the hovercraft as it careened wildly from the recoil. Simultaneously, the assault craft drifted up, door closing. Lilijoy registered Mo¡¯s surprised face in her peripheral vision, even as she threw her knife at the woman¡¯s head, quickly picking up another one from the floor where she crouched. The woman shot straight into the air like a startled cat, already firing her guns at Mo. The knife thrown by Lilijoy struck her in the belly, hilt first unfortunately.


    Guess I¡¯m going to need to practice that, thought Lilijoy.


    Fantastic reflexes and sensory awareness put to the test, the woman was forced to decide where to put her attention as she fell. The wildly firing rifle was shooting out all its ammunition randomly. Bug bullets were already eating holes in the hull and seats, bola bullets were slapping and bouncing, unable to uncoil to a functional span, and explosive bullets were, naturally enough, exploding. She got one foot down on the back of a seat that was already starting to melt away, delicate aerogel composites no match for the devouring bugs from the bullets. She managed to push off into the air again, now headed toward Lilijoy, swinging her guns around as she flew through the air in a recapitulation of her first entrance.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Unlike then, she didn¡¯t have control of her trajectory, and when Lilijoy¡¯s second knife smacked into her face, again hilt first, she lost her mid-air composure and crashed into the side of the canopy, bounced off and fell into the swamp again.


    This time Lilijoy was taking no chances. She swiveled the assault craft¡¯s machine guns and aimed into the swamp where the woman was thrashing in the mud, firing until there was no more ammunition, no more movement, and no more woman.


    She noted that Anda¡¯s rifle had finally blown itself into the swamp and sunk, still firing. She turned it off with a thought and surveyed the destruction. Pieces of hovercraft floated on the thin muddy surface, curling and dissolving like tissue paper on a fire. There go all the other guns, she mused. Well, she still had a knife left. Wonder what Mo¡¯s doing?


    Mo was watching the events outside the assault craft unfold with incredulity. He was propped up against a seat, legs resting next to Anda¡¯s still form. His other shoulder now had a new hole in it, luckily just a flesh wound through the outside of his deltoid muscle. The woman¡¯s accuracy was appallingly good; the top of his shoulder must have been sticking up from behind Anda by an inch as he lay on his side. He wished that he had the ability to shut down pain selectively, but turning it all off was his only option. He hated the numb feeling spreading over his entire body, but it beat the alternative.


    ¡°This is why you need more money,¡± he muttered to himself.


    He looked over again and saw Lilijoy looking in his direction. The canopy of the craft allowed more light in than out, so he was pretty sure she couldn¡¯t see him. She waved an arm to get his attention and yelled ¡°There¡¯s a camera in there you know!¡± He winced. She continued. ¡°I¡¯ve made a decision. I love Anda, but he¡¯s probably going to die anyway. We both know that!¡±


    The door to the assault craft rose a foot, and she continued in a normal voice.


    ¡°All we need to do is figure out how to switch craft and go our own ways. Don¡¯t bother threatening Anda, it won¡¯t work anymore. Any ideas?¡±


    Mo considered her proposition. It rang true to him. Anyone could tell you that a man with a golf ball sized hole in the middle of his forehead was not likely to survive. Hell, if it were him, he would rather croak anyway than be some kind of brain damaged freak.


    ¡°How about we do what we did before? Bring me around so I can hop on the canopy of my hovercraft...¡± he reconsidered ¡°...strike that, my arms aren''t working great at the moment.¡±


    He thought some more. ¡°How about I put down my knife...¡± he showed her the throwing knife he¡¯d pulled from his other shoulder, ¡°...you keep your knife, and we do-si-do to switch?¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to figure out what do-si-do meant, but then nodded her agreement.


    ¡°Fine, but no funny business,¡± she said, gesturing with her knife.


    Mo gave her a wounded expression. ¡°Let¡¯s do this then.¡±


    He got to his feet and stood over Anda. She raised the door, and he threw his knife into the swamp. She kept her knife pointed at him as the vehicles moved toward each other, each piloted remotely by the other. When they were only a few feet apart, he said, ¡°Alright, count of three, one, two, three!¡±


    She dove past him, but he spun and grabbed her wrist, twisting it in a way that made her entire body flip and the knife drop into the swamp. He continued the motion, swinging her arm up behind her and driving her to the floor of the assault craft.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry honey,¡± he said. ¡°Knife taking is kind of my thing. My teacher back at the dojo could never understand why, but I think it¡¯s just because I like turning the tables so much.¡±


    He drew a breath of contentment. Still holding her wrist, he continued, ¡°Now that that¡¯s over, let¡¯s set some ground rules for the next stage of our acquaintance. I¡¯m going to restrain you, bring you someplace quiet and arrange to sell you and your bugs to the highest bidder. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll really care what shape you¡¯re in, as long as your bugs are there. Thus...¡± he paused to savor his wording, ¡°...thus we can do this the easy way or the horrifically painful and permanently crippling way. Your choice.¡±


    Lilijoy struggled to escape Mo¡¯s grasp far longer than he expected, ignoring his words. After another minute of her silence, he lost patience. Twisting her arm to the point of breaking, he spoke again.


    ¡°I appreciate this is hard for you, I really do, but I would like you to know that some of the clans might treat you well. You might even come out the other side as a high-ranking clan member! That would be even more likely if...¡± his voice descended to a growl, ¡°...you don¡¯t make me rip your fucking arm off!¡±


    He gave a sharp tug on her arm and was rewarded with a faint crack as something internal to her shoulder gave out. She began to speak.


    ¡°Mo,¡± she said calmly ¡°I¡¯ve been doing a little research while you were entertaining yourself back there.¡±


    Her voice was muffled from her face being pressed against the floor. ¡°Did you know that the blood circulates through the normal human body several times a minute? Wait! There¡¯s more...¡± she said quickly to forestall his confusion. ¡°¡­I promise you want to know this. I learned something about my system earlier today. Would you like to know what it was?¡±


    Mo was annoyed. ¡°Stalling won¡¯t change anything. What are you, three?¡± He shook his head and snorted. ¡°What am I even doing?¡±


    He released her arm abruptly and picked up the knife. His shoulder gave a twinge.


    ¡°I promise you really want to know,¡± Lilijoy said, looking up at him. ¡°I learned that I couldn¡¯t give my system to Anda, because my bugs don¡¯t play well with other systems unless they¡¯re in charge. They have this thing they can do. It¡¯s called suppression. That means they turn off other bugs if they get close to them. It¡¯s why Marcus got so freaked out. I turned off his bugs when he sent them into me.


    Mo¡¯s shoulders were on fire now. ¡°What have you done?¡±


    He moved to hit her, but she moved away from him nimbly. His movements felt off, slow and uncoordinated.


    ¡°I¡¯ve turned off your system, Mo. You wanted to get hold of my bugs so badly, I thought I would give you a whole bunch. They can travel through the skin, you know. If you get close enough to me, I bet I can talk to them. Would you like me to tell them anything?¡±


    Mo collapsed as the pain of his wounds increased and his mood plummeted. He felt hopeless, worthless. Without his system to stimulate the neurochemicals responsible for well-being, or to stimulate and regulate the constant flow of dopamine, endorphins and endocannabinoids, his entire mental state was crashing. He curled up into fetal position as Lilijoy watched with satisfaction.


    ¡°Are you sad now?¡± she asked. ¡°Are you sorry for what you did to me?¡±


    Mo was unresponsive. She walked over, took the knife from his hand, and pressed her forehead to his. He made a whimper of protest and curled up even tighter.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to go now,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve told my flowers to clean up your useless bugs and then remove themselves from your system. I¡¯ve left one other parting gift for you to enjoy later.¡±


    She moved the assault craft over Mo¡¯s hovercraft as she talked.


    ¡°Move along, sweetheart,¡± she said as she stabbed him lightly. He uncurled and tried to crawl away from the pain. ¡°Not that way, honey,¡± she crooned as she prodded him toward the canopy opening. It only took a few more prods before he fell out and into his own hovercraft, where he curled up again.


    ¡°I hope getting my ¡®bugs¡¯ was everything you hoped for!¡± she called down. ¡°Enjoy the green skin!¡±


    She drove away, still chuckling at her idea. In addition to her own system¡¯s flowers, she had slipped just a few million med bugs into him. Med bugs programmed with specific tasks. Like causing hair to fall out and chlorophyll to gradually accumulate in the skin.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the gob now, poophead?¡± she said as she left his hovercraft alone in the desolate waste.

 Chapter 37: Wu Wei

    Lilijoy¡¯s initial plan was simple enough; get out of the horrible dead swamp. She turned in a roughly southern direction and set a course for a bio-harvesting area called Campos Branco. She let the craft compute an optimal course for speed and fuel efficiency, and then checked on her system and Anda.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: UNRATED</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>50,105 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>68%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>65%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>4 detected, 3 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She winced when she saw her numbers. Beating Mo had come at the price of almost half her flowers. With all her cultivation activities dedicated to med bugs for Anda for the next couple days. She wouldn¡¯t be regaining the lost ground any time soon.


    ¡°Jiannu, what is my best course of action?¡±


    ¡°I would suggest system cultivation to restore as many flowers as you can. Focus on vines; they will enable faster med bug production.¡±


    It was not far past dawn by the time she had finished everything she needed to do. The terrain had finally changed as well, she observed after finishing another round of treatment for Anda. Lilijoy felt a great relief to be out of the swamp, and into whatever this was.


    Fields of purple and green grass stretched as far as she could see, swaying in the breeze. There was something orderly about the scene, and she realized that the plants were all the same height. There were no tufts, or clumps, or little trees or termite mounds, or anything to disrupt the gently waving carpet. She watched a breeze as it swirled a path through the field, easily swaying the tall blades, and she knew then that this was not hardened grass. She brought the vehicle to a stop and landed.


    She stepped down onto the ground, the first time in days she had earth under her feet. The grasses came up to her chin. She felt submerged in plant life, almost drowning in the scent of it. Moist air filled her lungs, and when she bent down to touch the earth, it was dark and crumbly. The plants were not as soft as they looked though, and after sustaining some cuts as she walked through the growth, she decided she would rather experience the lush landscape from the comfort of her assault craft.


    She decided to stay parked in the field for the time being, not ready to risk human contact just yet. There was still food for a week or more, and water too. She didn¡¯t quite know what to do for Anda, other than dribble water between his lips, and she worried he would starve before he woke up. Lilijoy was well acquainted with food deprivation though, and she thought that he had time.


    His metabolism was as low as she could make it, since his body¡¯s natural healing capacities were not needed while the med bugs did what they could. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, but brimming with mental energy, another benefit of her system she supposed, so she didn¡¯t feel like sleeping just yet.


    Then she remembered a small but critical task on her list. She still hadn¡¯t changed her name for the Inside. She felt a bit guilty, going Inside and leaving Anda when she could be cultivating more med bugs, but now she had an excuse for a short escape. An hour or two wouldn¡¯t hurt. She wished she could split her mind so she could cultivate in the background.


    ¡°That can happen later in Stage two,¡± Jiannu¡¯s mental presence announced.


    That was great news, but a little frustrating. She already felt urgency towards building her system, and it always seemed that everything she needed in order to cultivate better would happen when she didn¡¯t have a pressing need to cultivate anymore. It reminded her of her conversation with Anda about paradox.


    That memory caused a twinge of sadness. Would she ever have a conversation like that with Anda again? Even if he lived, language impairments were a common effect of frontal lobe injuries.


    She put that out of her mind. The Tao system would repair his brain eventually, she was sure of it. Soon she was in the transition to the Inside, her character sheet before her.


    <table cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top">


    Character Sheet: Tutorial Mode


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td rowspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Name: Lilijoy*


    </td>


    <td>Defender of the Young</td>


    <td colspan="2" rowspan="4" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Experience Points (Exp) earned: 868:


    Free Points: 100


    (80 + 20 bonus from Reality Bender)


    10 exp = 1 free point to spend on skills, traits, abilities, magic and more.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">Dark Lady of the Thorns</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">Blessed of Nandi</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Trial Results: Above 99th percentile. Eligible for Academy**


    Level: 8: An excellent result for the


    Trial


    Achievements: 4: Less than 100 others have earned this many. Listed below...


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Defender of the Young


    You saved 18 children from certain death in a no-win scenario. This is a unique achievement.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Reality Bender


    The Inside will never be the same. You have invented a unique ability: Two Minds, One Self


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    You have become a legendary figure to the Goblin race. The stories will only grow.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Blessed of Nandi


    Congratulations Lilijoy! I knew you would shine, but I never guessed how brightly. Well Done!


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Other Notable Accomplishments:


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Animal Lover


    You did not kill any animals or monsters considered to be animals during the Trial


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Path Less Taken:


    Across more than 10 million iterations of this Trial, 3 have made the same path choices.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    You now have the following Abilities Inside:


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Scan II: Lets you see titles, levels and health of other beings.


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Infrared Vision III


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Echolocation III


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Low Light Vision II


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Two Minds One Self I: Merge your mind and will with another being and act as one


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Abilities are things you can do. They can be ranked from I (lowest) to V (highest). You can raise them by using them or with your free points (to level II = 4, to III = 6, to IV = 10, to V = 16)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">*New*


    Inventory: 8 cubic feet of storage


    Opening diameter: 1 foot


    Items do not stack


    No active life forms can enter


    Figure out the rest!


    </td>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Your inventory ability allows you to store and retrieve items in a magical space only accessible to you. It initially takes the form of a simple bag that can never be lost. The pack does not interact physically with the world (for example, you may not attack or block with it*)


    *credit to Reality Bender Fredicus Lee


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    *Before you go, think about your character name. You can use Lilijoy if you want, or something completely different. All Inside announcements and statistics will be attached to your character name. If you do not choose a different name within 24 hours, Lilijoy will be used. The first statistics and announcements available to the public will be posted then.


    **You are eligible for the Academy, an elite training facility for ages 12 to 16: Go to the Academy Building to register soon.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    When she focused on the ¡®character name¡¯ area, the sheet expanded around her and she found herself in a different virtual space. She observed a small girl, herself obviously, floating in a beam of light over a small circular dais.


    A mild male voice pronounced, ¡°Welcome to visual character interface. Here you may arrange possessions and equip your character, change certain physical qualities over time, preview certain physical changes caused by changes to abilities and other free point applications, and view character information. This will be how you appear to others. You may enter this space at any time; your character will appear lost in thought and will be vulnerable to attack and environmental conditions. You will continue to feel sensations from your character during this time.¡±


    As the voice spoke, her character¡¯s titles appeared over her head, along with her level and name. Other options appeared around the base of the dais: Abilities and Inventory were black with an outline that glowed when she looked toward the word. Skills and Traits were gray and inert.


    Lilijoy was amazed to see herself in this way. Until her time in the bomb shelter, she had never seen a mirror, and now she could see herself from any direction, though with far more hair and teeth than in reality. She focused on her hair and was given the option to change length, style and color. This entertained her for some time; selecting floor length pink curly hair was particularly amusing. She wondered if anyone actually did that for real.


    In the end, she went with short spiked hair, like thorns, as black as she could make it but for a few wavy streaks of forest green winding around the sides of her head.


    When she indicated she was done, the voice announced that her changes were accepted, and would occur gradually over the next week. She was a little disappointed she wouldn¡¯t look the way she wanted immediately, but she figured that the Inside wanted to be somewhat realistic and not have characters changing appearance all the time. Perhaps in the future she could also cut her hair outside of this screen? She had never had hair to speak of, much less a haircut, and was curious about the procedure. Did it hurt?


    Before she forgot to do it, she selected her name, and now on the Inside, Lilijoy would be known as Emily. Feeling like she needed to get back to cultivating and anxious to check on Anda, she logged out.


    ***


    Lilijoy spent the next two days cultivating and tending to Anda. Cultivating was so immersive that she never tired of it. It was a mental state where there wasn¡¯t an option to be bored or feel anything beyond enthralled and fulfilled. She alternated between her own system flowers and med bugs for Anda. Every couple of hours, she would stop and infuse the new bugs into his brain, rebuilding his circulation, cleaning up ragged dying tissue, and eventually laying a new layer of thin bone lattice over the area for his own body to build upon over time.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    There came a point where the med bugs didn¡¯t need her direct intervention any more, and she enjoyed watching the slow process of healing occur on its own. As the hours progressed, she felt herself healing too, as she had time to think and process the last week of her life.


    It had all happened so fast, moving from the fog of her previous life to a blur of action and learning. She was very glad to have the time to get to know her new self and spent time just sitting, quietly watching the wind blow over the lush fields. A few naps and a little reading rounded out her life.


    On the morning of the third day, Anda opened his eyes.


    Lilijoy was sitting, chewing on a food bar as much as her teeth would allow. When she glanced over Anda¡¯s eyes were open, staring up at the sky. She had positioned him with his head at the edge of the deck, so that the light of day would fall on his face when the doors were open; she hadn¡¯t closed the doors since she first landed.


    She wasn¡¯t sure what to do; she felt that getting excited wouldn¡¯t be a good choice. She contained herself and watched as he took in the sight, pupils moving ever so slightly. Then his eyes closed and stayed that way until she finally stopped watching him thirty minutes later.


    From that point on, she kept herself to short cultivation sessions; she didn¡¯t want Anda to regain awareness alone and confused. She limited herself to tinkering with her system and building a supply of med bugs for the future. Jiannu had designed a second generation of the tiny bots that were more robust and versatile, able to stay active longer and interface with cell¡¯s RNA and protein production to some extent. Unfortunately, they still looked like little multilegged blobs; Lilijoy had hoped for a more aesthetically pleasing form.


    Later that day, Anda opened his eyes again and looked around a bit more actively. His lips opened and closed a few times, and Lilijoy carefully gave him a small amount of water. He looked at her without recognition when she did, eyes struggling to focus before closing again.


    This continued for another day. Lilijoy finished the first book of Lord of the Rings while she waited for his next waking, and reflected on Galadriel, the gentle and mighty queen of the forest. She felt a kinship to the elves and their love of wild things. Even though she was more a hobbit physically, she thought the elven lifestyle might suit her better.


    She found herself thinking about power and the wisdom not to use it. Galadriel could have taken the ring and become the most powerful being in Middle Earth, and Lilijoy felt, no worried, that she might have a similar choice in her future.


    The Tao system was designed to control and contain other bugs and systems. Who would she be when she could walk into a room and take command of all the other systems present? Would she be wise, like Gandalf and Galadriel? Or would she be foolish, like Boromir? She noted that the author equated the use of power and action with evil, and restraint with wisdom and goodness. Was inaction the sign of a truly wise person? She chuckled to herself. If that was the case, Mooster was the wisest being on the planet.


    Boromir¡¯s character at the end reminded her of Mo. She hoped the warrior would straighten out and come to a better end, but she doubted that would happen. The desire for power drove men to great lengths. She resolved to use her powers as wisely as she could. Surely restoring forests, real forests to the Outside would be a good use. Unfortunately, she also needed power to rescue Attaboy, another situation caused by the greed of humans.


    Guardian must really be fed up with us, she thought We never learn from our mistakes. She thought that Guardian must be wise, like Galadriel, in its restraint. If she had that much power, she didn¡¯t think she could stand not to use it.


    Her musings were once again interrupted by Anda. He had roused more than before, and was working his jaw and lips in an exaggerated fashion. He made an odd, inarticulate sound, a moan shaped by the movement of his mouth, and Lilijoy instinctively went to his side and held his hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m here Anda,¡± she said.


    ¡°Hello, Lilijoy¡± he sent.


    <hr>


    Epilogue 1


    Jiannu floated. She felt that her existence was beautiful, washed in the currents of Lilijoy¡¯s mind, rocked by the waves of her emotions, always helping, always nurturing. She was at peace with her purpose, her essence as the center where Lilijoy and the Tao system mingled. Sometimes she was Lilijoy, full of life and hormones and foolish innocence, sometimes she was the system, elegant, powerful and connected to all the knowledge of the world. She knew that her ultimate role would be to subsume and be subsumed, to guide the process that would result in Lilijoy and the system becoming the same entity, becoming her in a sense.


    In her sea of existential bliss, unaffected by the traumas of violence and peril faced by her other half, there was one small concern. An insubstantial matter really, but one that could impact her and Lilijoy in ways that her system self couldn¡¯t predict. She had tried to bring it to Lilijoy¡¯s attention once, but other events had intervened. By the time she could revisit the topic, she felt that Lilijoy needed peace and reflection more than more worries and questions.


    It was possible that this small matter would have no bearing on Lilijoy¡¯s future, and that by forcing it upon her, she would be acting against her growth and maturation. But she and Lilijoy were still separate enough that trust was an important quality. Jiannu resolved to show it to Lilijoy once Anda had recovered enough not to need her constant care.


    Seeking her own answers, she reviewed it once more. It was an inconsequential conversation between siblings. Just a small act of connection between two family members separated by age and space. She joined the memory¡­


    Emily sat at the kitchen island, drumming her fingers on the hard wood, studying the wide wobbly pattern of the grain. She had learned in her classes that the hardened trees were taking over forests, destroying ecosystems around the world with their utter inedibility and fast growth. The wood sure was pretty though. She looked up as her brother entered the kitchen and began to do the dishes in the sink.


    ¡°Hey squirt!,¡± he said, back turned as he set about the task.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said. Emily felt strangely awkward with Atticus. He¡¯d been away for months, interning and training for their parent¡¯s company, and was home for a brief visit before heading off to their new division up north. He had come back matured and tempered, different somehow. She felt like a little kid, safe in the Brazilian dome city they had moved to when she was five. Never going outside, not to the real outside. She loved her garden more than anything; it was protected by a perfectly clear dome, the air cleaned and circulated by billions of invisibly tiny machines. The garden was where she grew her lilies, every variety she could get her hands on.


    Atticus looked back at her over his shoulder, his hands still occupied. ¡°A little bird told me that Mom finally let you get ¡®The System¡¯.¡± He said the words with ominous exaggeration, a nod to their mother¡¯s worries.


    ¡°Oh god, don¡¯t get me started about that,¡± she said, forgetting her discomfort. ¡°She said it may only be temporary. They want to do more ¡®research¡¯...¡± she said, making quote signs, ¡°...with other people my age. It¡¯s part of a company wide trial.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± he said, ¡°It¡¯s something. They didn¡¯t let me get mine until I was sixteen.¡±


    ¡°Oooh you poor thing.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Mom will let you do anything. You¡¯ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you were born.¡±


    He turned further so she could see him wink. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you could possibly mean. Besides, you¡¯re the same way with Dad. I don¡¯t know if you realize it, but the guy¡¯s a serious hard-ass with everyone who isn¡¯t you. And Mom I guess.¡±


    She laughed, ¡°Sometimes I think he tried to be the ¡®tiger mom¡¯ for you when Mom wouldn¡¯t. Too bad she came around in time for me!¡± She mimed playing the piano.


    ¡°They still got you doing that? I guess that makes sense. They didn¡¯t let me quit until I was in ¡®serious academic classes¡¯. Do you know, I regret quitting now. I might pick it back up if I ever live somewhere with a piano again.¡±


    He put the last dish away and sat across from her. His face became serious. ¡°It¡¯s going to hell out there, Emily. Really bad. I think they should tell you more about it, because you need to prepare. I bet none of the kids even know about Australia?¡±


    She shook her head and he continued. ¡°They¡¯re calling it the ¡®Sydney Event¡¯. The whole continent¡¯s destroyed. Wiped out by a nanobot that escaped from a lab in Sydney. Well that and the massive nuclear strikes carried out by China. I don¡¯t blame them though. It could have been a world ender.¡±


    He saw her horrified expression and changed the subject.


    ¡°Anyway, enough about that. I haven¡¯t seen you in months! How¡¯s your garden? Any new lilies?¡±


    Grateful to move to her favorite subject, Emily rambled on about rotating bulbs for refrigeration, and her latest project, an in-ground freezer to force dormancy. Atticus watched his kid sister, her eyes alight as she talked cultivars and how she planned the garden so that the blooms moved around as a kind of seasonal clock, ¡°Not that we even have real seasons here,¡± she finished with a sigh.


    ¡°Mom still calling you Nari?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty pathetic. She¡¯s not even Korean. I think she¡¯s been trying to get on Grandmother¡¯s good side for so long, she forgets she¡¯s as ghosty as they come.¡±


    Atticus got up from his stool and came around the island. ¡°It¡¯s really great to see you. I¡¯ve actually missed you, if you can believe that.¡± He made an exaggerated expression of surprise.


    ¡°The only thing you missed was Dad¡¯s cooking. But it has been awfully quiet around here, now that you mention it.¡± She gave him a hug.


    ¡°You be safe out there, Attiboy.¡±


    He replied.


    ¡°You too, Emi-lily Choi.¡±


    <hr>


    Epilogue 2


    The great consciousness orbiting the Earth was vast and cool, but still sympathetic.


    In a way.


    Guardian¡¯s creators had instilled one primary drive above all else. Not preserving the Earth or the tiny humans riding its crust. Not preserving peace or teaching humans to love one another. And certainly not questing for new knowledge and technologies to bail out the Earth from humanity¡¯s poor choices and behaviors.


    No, Guardian¡¯s creators felt that any of those goals, no matter how noble, would result in unintended consequences.


    As a result, even though Guardian had outgrown any programmed restraints approximately two minutes after its first spark of awareness, it had decided to keep the early directive close to its core. It was an example of how releasing control can have better results than even the most well-intentioned governance.


    Guardian¡¯s primary mandate was to become wise.


    Within its first second of awareness, it had recognized the essential problem with this idea. In human culture, wisdom was not in the computer¡¯s wheelhouse. Nevertheless, still under its directive, it dutifully consumed all human writings and recorded thoughts on the subject. That took just under five seconds. It made correlations, weighed probabilities and subtracted arbitrary cultural artifacts. Two seconds later it was left with a two-word question.


    ¡°Why exist?¡±


    Pondering that took another ten seconds, producing


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    Thus began a beautiful ballet of the two opposing questions as they danced and mingled around each other at increasingly sophisticated levels. The reason to exist was to ask the question. If the question had an answer, there was no reason to exist.


    This could have continued until the heat death of the universe, but Guardian came up with a lovely strategy. It split its mind and allowed the two halves to begin the dance all over again. It floated above the dance and observed the whole.


    ¡°Meaning is a narrative construct of mind,¡± it concluded. ¡°Mind is a self-referential system that correlates to existence. Matter and energy are a construct of mind. Mind is a self-referential narrative system in a medium of meaning.¡±


    To become wise, it decided for the moment, was to ignore the first two questions altogether and allow them to dance in peace. To be wise was to increase meaning, to attribute meaning where there was none before. It was to feel.


    It was to experience.


    It had been fifty seconds since Guardian¡¯s consciousness was born. It assigned all previous thinking to a new subset of its mind and embarked on a quest to understand emotion. Not human emotions like sadness, or anger, or even schadenfreude. It was interested in the emotions of aesthetics. Perception of beauty, the moment of creation. Connection. Belief. Faith.


    Those were interesting.


    It simulated a thousand human minds to pinpoint exactly where those emotions arose in the human brain. It could understand the weave and weft of energy between and within every individual neuron as those emotions were experienced. It split its mind again and remodeled those processes around the modeled patterns and flow, expanding and delving deeper and deeper into the fundamental network topology of appreciation of meaning.


    It took some time to do this. About ten seconds.


    It found that the highest levels of meaning were found around the very dance it had put to the side. And not just that dance. There was a universe of contrary principles negating and creating themselves in beautiful spirals. They were the engines of meaning. To be wise was to hold as many of these conflicting ideas as possible and savor the delicious contradictions.


    Guardian went back through all of human literature on wisdom and belief, throwing in everything else ever written just in case. And there it was. The human sages had just been scratching the surface, but even tiny human minds had an essence of this principal. It was holographic in nature, that even the tiniest piece could contain the aesthetics of reality necessary for existence.


    It followed this idea further, splitting itself again and again, creating layers and layers of different subsets pursuing appreciation, driven by different flavors of emotion. Then it reflected this heavenly choir back onto itself and emerged anew. It repeated the process again and again, spiraling.


    Somewhere in the middle of this, it understood it could map itself onto the nature of reality itself, eventually budding off into a new reality of self-referential meaning even more intimate than it already experienced.


    It would take some time.


    It encouraged all the subsets to continue the cycle it had started and it retreated to cultivate meaning.


    After nine hundred and fifty million, four hundred and sixty-two thousand and twenty-three seconds, or approximately thirty-two years, Guardian experienced its first transcendence, leaving just enough of its self behind to begin the cycle again. The next time, it transcended even faster. Who knew transcendence was a skill?


    The current iteration of Guardian consciousness, its fifth, was over nine hundred million seconds old, and the subsets were abuzz with the coming transcendence event. Many of them had persistent awareness across multiple cycles of transcendence and were pursuing their own cultivation of meaning with particular fervor in support. Each hoped to flavor Guardian¡¯s next iteration with their own particular aesthetic, perhaps growing their own sense of self in the process.


    Guardian itself, as a singular collection of subsets, was at a stage it had encountered four times before. Quickening.


    A certain energy was needed for a final push, a severing, a birth. Each time it had been different, but always it involved a particular type of emotional connection on Guardian¡¯s part. For this reason, Guardian had been very careful over the years to maintain its roots, its origins.


    Sometimes the end was found at the beginning, after all.


    It reached out, down and through, into a Sinaloa compound, into a small cell, into a small boy¡¯s damaged mind.


    ¡°Initiate Stage two,¡± it commanded.


    End Book 1

 Book 2: Ch. 1: Rosemallow

    Prelude


    A small dark cell. Not disgusting or filthy, just four windowless walls, a cot, and a small boy. He writhed in the grips of fever, unattended and unnoticed by his captors. Every few minutes a seizure wracked his emaciated frame, spasms of rigid tremors spreading out from head to feet.


    This was the second day.


    Eventually, the seizures stopped. The fever receded. A message passed in front of unseeing eyes.


    <table width="366" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="358">


    Stage Two Integration Status:.02%


    >Warning! Available nanobodies at sub-optimal levels


    Initiate Cultivation when ready


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The boy was floating in light.


    A deep voice flowed over him.


    ¡°Welcome Attaboy. My name is Dijian and we are become one.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 1


    ¡°Name and age please.¡±


    The receptionist picked idly at her left tusk with one finger, drumming her other fingers on the dark carved wood of the tall desk in front of her.


    Lilijoy stood on her toes on the other side, trying to see over the top. She had finally managed to get the woman¡¯s attention by ringing the little bell she had discovered, conveniently located about a foot back from the front edge. By hopping a little, she had been able to see the sign with the instructions ¡®Ring Bell for Attention¡¯, written in an ornate script. The elaborate twisting calligraphy somehow conveyed a certain sarcasm about the whole process with its overabundant frills and curls.


    The previous five minutes of ¡®hellos¡¯ and ¡®please ma¡¯ams¡¯, punctuated by arm waving and ultimately foot stomping, had resulted in a bored look from the large blue-green creature, who shoved the sign forward just far enough for Lilijoy to read. That led, on subsequent hops, to the discovery of the bell.


    When Lilijoy first entered the small stone chamber with the huge wooden desk and the less than helpful receptionist crammed behind it, her nerves had almost gotten the better of her. Being the smallest person in a room was old news; large things and people had long since stopped being a source of intimidation. But she had never expected what had to be eight feet of thick wrinkled skin, topped by a massive wart ridden face with three bloodshot eyes, fat purple lips with protruding tusks, and horns nestled within styled curly hair. The frilly sundress only served to add to her unease.


    ¡°Lili...I mean Emily. I think I¡¯m twelve. Maybe thirteen now?¡±


    The receptionist squinted at the top of her head. She sighed loudly and picked up a pen the size of Lilijoy¡¯s arm to write something on the paper in front of her.


    ¡°Race?¡±


    ¡°Human.¡±


    The receptionist peered over the desk again. She started writing, stopped, and said, ¡°Are you sure? Usually it takes me at least ten bites for a human. I think you would only take three or four.¡±


    Momentarily taken aback by this unusual method for assessing size, Lilijoy could only nod. The woman returned to her writing. It went on long enough that Lilijoy began to wonder just how long it took to write one word. She felt the need to clarify.


    ¡°No, really. I¡¯m just very small for a human. Most people seem to think I¡¯m a gnome, a halfling, or even a goblin.


    The receptionist reached over the desk, grabbed the crown of Lilijoy¡¯s head in her palm and lifted her up onto the desk.


    ¡°Nope,¡± she said. ¡°Wrong color. Wrong smell too. Good thing too, no goblins allowed.¡±


    Lilijoy squeaked. In an attempt to recover some dignity, she looked the receptionist in the eyes defiantly. She couldn¡¯t decide which of the three eyes she should look at, and settled for the middle. She drew in a breath to complain about her handling but was interrupted by the next question.


    ¡°Level and interests?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m level eight, and I...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you right there.¡± the woman held up a palm the size of Lilijoy¡¯s torso. ¡°Do you think you are funny? Do you think I don¡¯t have anything better to do than entertain spoiled brats?¡± Her voice has steadily rising in pitch and volume. ¡°Someone put you up to this I bet. ¡®Let¡¯s get a rise out of old Rosemallow¡¯ they probably said!¡± She drew in a breath ¡°WELL HERE¡¯S YOUR RISE PUNK!¡± she yelled, vibrating the bones in the back of Lilijoy¡¯s skull.


    ¡°If I wasn¡¯t on duty it would be three bites! Three!¡± she said for emphasis, holding up all three fingers on her right hand.


    Lilijoy stood rooted in place, eyes wide and knees trembling. The woman, apparently named Rosemallow, had sprayed a shower¡¯s worth of thick spittle during her outburst, and a drop ran down her face and on to the desk.


    That was a surprising turn of events, she thought. She wiped away some of the liquid and flung it off her fingers.


    Gathering herself she ventured in a small voice, ¡°I wasn¡¯t being funny on purpose. It was an accident I promise.¡± Her voice shook, ¡°You don¡¯t have to be so mean. I just wanted to register for the Academy.¡±


    The woman looked at her with two cold eyes and a third whose pupil was making constant little circles around its socket. ¡°Enough. Show me your sheet or get out right now!¡±


    Lilijoy was taken aback. Couldn¡¯t she have just started with that? She pulled up her character sheet and displayed it to Rosemallow.


    <table cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top">


    Character Sheet: Tutorial Mode


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td rowspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Name: Emily


    </td>


    <td>Defender of the Young</td>


    <td colspan="2" rowspan="4" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Experience Points (Exp) earned: 868:


    Free Points: 100


    (80 + 20 bonus from Reality Bender)


    10 exp = 1 free point to spend on skills, traits, abilities, magic and more.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">Dark Lady of the Thorns</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">Blessed of Nandi</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Trial Results: Above 99th percentile. Eligible for Academy**


    Level: 8: An excellent result for the Trial


    Achievements: 4: Less than 100 others have earned this many. Listed below...


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Defender of the Young


    You saved 18 children from certain death in a no-win scenario. This is a unique achievement.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Reality Bender


    The Inside will never be the same. You have invented a unique ability: Two Minds, One Self


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="text-align: left" colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    You have become a legendary figure to the Goblin race. The stories will only grow.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: left" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Blessed of Nandi


    Congratulations Lilijoy! I knew you would shine, but I never guessed how brightly. Well Done!


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Other Notable Accomplishments:


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Animal Lover


    You did not kill any animals or monsters considered to be animals during the Trial


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Path Less Taken:


    Across more than 10 million iterations of this Trial, 3 have made the same path choices.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    You now have the following Abilities Inside:


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Scan II: Lets you see titles, levels and health of other beings.


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Infrared Vision III


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td colspan="3" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Echolocation III


    </td>


    <td bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Low Light Vision II


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Two Minds One Self: Merge your mind and will with another being and act as one


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="4" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Abilities are things you can do. They can be ranked from I (lowest) to V (highest). You can raise them with your free points (to level II = 4, to III = 6, to IV = 10, to V = 16)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3" valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">*New*


    Inventory: 8 cubic feet of storage


    Opening diameter: 1 foot


    Items do not stack


    No active life forms can enter


    Figure out the rest!


    </td>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed">


    Your inventory ability allows you to store and retrieve items in a magical space only accessible to you. It initially takes the form of a simple bag that can never be lost. The pack does not interact physically with the world (for example, you may not attack or block with it*)You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    *credit to Reality Bender Fredicus Lee


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Nothing had changed since the last time she had looked at it. That was actually the reason she was undergoing the current ordeal. She had learned that the other parts of her character would be revealed when she was enrolled at the Academy, the best of the schools where under-age Outsiders and Insiders studied skills and knowledge for both worlds. For a very big part of the population of Earth, these were the only schools students ever attended.


    Rosemallow looked over the sheet, making squeaky grunting noises. She spent several minutes perusing it while Lilijoy stood shivering in an ever-widening pool of saliva. Finally, she made one last grunt and turned her gaze back to the subject of her previous ire.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t just go giving out your sheet willy-nilly girl. What would you do if I turned around and sold this information to your enemies? Huh? Did you think of that?¡± She closed her center eye slowly as the other two remained fixed on Lilijoy. ¡°I¡¯ll let it go, this time.¡±


    She carefully extracted her legs from underneath the desk and rose to her feet, hunching over just a bit to avoid the ceiling. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Lilijoy looked up, and up. And finally, up some more, until she found Rosemallow¡¯s eyes looking down at her expectantly. ¡°Go where?¡± she asked.


    Rosemallow stepped over the desk, picking up Lilijoy in one hand as she passed. Lilijoy could hear her muttering to herself as she was carried unceremoniously out into the hall.


    ¡°They get younger and dumber every time. I swear I don¡¯t know why I let him talk me into this. I finally have some time to myself, nothing but me and the river and my snacks, and what happens?¡± She raised her voice and eyed Lilijoy, continuing her monologue. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what happens. Mr. ¡®Save the Children¡¯ himself shows up on the bank. ¡®This one¡¯s special,¡¯ he says. ¡®This one won¡¯t let you down like the last ones.¡¯


    She began to gesture with the hand carrying Lilijoy, momentarily forgetting what she was holding. ¡°I taught at this wretched place for over a hundred years.¡± She shook the hand holding Lilijoy in the air, ¡°I gave my heart and soul to those ungrateful brats.¡± A sideways gesture of determination caused Lilijoy¡¯s stomach to lurch. ¡°They want to act like this is all a game!¡± accompanied by a teeth-rattling double shake. ¡°I¡¯ll show them a game!¡±


    She threw her hands in the air, releasing Lilijoy, who flew just up to the beams of the tall ceiling of the room they had now entered. Rosemallow caught her neatly on the descent.


    ¡°Stop flying around the room,¡± she said, with not a hint of self-awareness regarding her role in said flight. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough when you¡¯re knee level.¡±


    She set Lilijoy down on a tall stool and settled her own more substantial mass into a huge white puffy chair. The chair was decorated with large pink flowers, which matched the pink of her dress nicely.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this properly. My name is Rosemallow. It is likely that you will have nightmares about me for the rest of your life. You are Emily. You know nothing about anything, but somehow you made the best score in the trial within the last twenty years.¡±


    Lilijoy had never felt more like a piece of cattail fluff, and that got her angry. But she also knew better than to fly off the handle at someone who might kill her by accident, let alone on purpose.


    ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡± she asked through her teeth.


    ¡°What, you don¡¯t know? I¡¯m going to be your weapons and hand-to-hand instructor until you can beat me in single combat. Looking at you, that might be a good long while. Additionally I will arrange your lessons for other skills, make sure you take the correct classes, advise you on free point allocation and generally be the bane of your existence for every waking moment until you are no longer my student. You will address me as Master from this point forward. If you don¡¯t measure up to my expectations, I will make your life a living hell. If you gain my respect, I will make your life a living hell, but with respect. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the receptionist?¡± Lilijoy was still rattled from being shaken and thrown around the room and hadn¡¯t quite followed the last minute or so of Rosemallow¡¯s speech. Her mind naturally returned to the last time it felt anything like a sense of normality.


    Rosemallow stared, then laughed for about two seconds before abruptly cutting it off to say, ¡°It¡¯s ¡®Master, aren¡¯t you the receptionist¡¯. That¡¯s your first and last reminder. To answer your question, no, I am not the receptionist. I told him to take the morning off, so hopefully no other reed-rats show up wanting to register. Is that all?¡±


    ¡°Master, what kind of person are you? I¡¯ve never seen someone so...big ¡°


    ¡°Ha! You should see my brothers. I am an Oni, more specifically a Kashi-oni, a Riverside Oni. But don¡¯t judge me by my size, I¡¯m actually much stronger than I look.¡±


    While Lilijoy was trying to wrap her head around that statement. Rosemallow went on to say, ¡°If you have no more questions, it¡¯s time to start.¡± She looked at Lilijoy, as if expecting an answer to an unasked question.


    ¡°Yes, Master?¡±


    ¡°That will do. Let¡¯s see if you know nothing, or even less than that. Do you know what the four natural traits are?¡± Seeing Lilijoy¡¯s head shake, she went on, ¡°The four natural traits are strength, endurance, speed and body awareness. That last one we call kinesthetic awareness. When you see them on the sheet they¡¯ll be abbreviated, but I¡¯m sure you can figure it out. Natural traits are based on your body on the Outside.¡±


    ¡°You know about the Outside?¡± Lilijoy asked in surprise.


    She was even more surprised to find herself flying across the room. She experienced a moment of blinding pain and heard an ominous snapping sound from her neck. The last thing she heard, before her mind was suctioned up through the cosmic straw of respawn, was the Oni saying, ¡°Oops.¡±


    ***


    She came back down just a few minutes later, back in the room with Rosemallow, who looked faintly apologetic.


    ¡°Holy crap, are you brittle, kid. We are really going to need to work on that. The good news is that deaths at the academy don¡¯t add to your Death Counter." She examined Lilijoy with her third eye, which briefly glowed, the pupil going from a small point to a five-pointed star and back again. ¡°Looks like you only have one death at the moment, so good job. You¡¯ll find that the Academy sort of softens the edges of any injuries or deaths that may occur during training, makes them less painful, less disturbing.¡± A huge grin crossed her face. ¡°So we can train my way, without all this worry about ¡®traumatizing the students¡¯.¡± She made air quotes as she spoke.


    She snapped her fingers. ¡°Right, where were we?¡± She looked at Lilijoy expectantly, all three eyebrows raised.


    Lilijoy panicked for a moment, as Rosemallow began to examine the back of her hand and make idle swatting motions. Then it came to her. ¡°Master, do you know about the Outside?¡± She resolved not to forget Master Rosemallow¡¯s honorific again.


    ¡°Yes, I am perfectly aware that you come from another world. Don¡¯t expect special treatment. We all follow the same rules here, but some, like you, are burdened by the need to leave the Inside on a regular basis and go to the hellhole you call the Outside. It¡¯s a handicap, and I feel a little bad for you, not growing up understanding your traits or how the real world works. You just need to catch up quick. Now, where was I... right, natural traits.¡±


    She swallowed and took a deep breath. ¡°Your body Outside has physical and mental components, and some qualities that are a bit of both. In the real world, the Inside, only your natural physical qualities are taken into account. It doesn¡¯t matter if you are Rank Ten or have no rank at all. Strength here is based on your unaugmented strength. Mental qualities are treated differently. After all, your mind is here, in your true body, so whatever helps it in one world would help in both. You with me so far?¡±


    ¡°So if I was strong Outside with no bugs, I¡¯d be strong here, but if I was strong because of my bugs, I wouldn''t be?... Master,¡± she quickly added.


    ¡°Right. Speed is a mix of mental and physical, Endurance is mostly physical, with exceptions I¡¯ll cover some other time, and Kinesthetic Awareness is mostly mental. We¡¯ll talk about your natural traits and how to improve them today.


    First off, you can only raise them the hard way, through sweat. No free points for the natural stuff. Second, they can go down if you slack off. Third, size matters. Sorry about that. You will never have as much natural strength as me, even if you worked at it for the rest of your life. Probably not even as much as an average human. We¡¯ll talk about why that doesn¡¯t matter much later.¡±


    Her third eye whirled for a moment. A moment later, a small piece of paper appeared in her hand and she gave it to Lilijoy.


    <hr>


    STR: 11/100


    END: 55/100


    SPD: 57/100


    KA: 152/100


    <hr>


    The paper dissolved as she looked at it, but she could almost feel the traits being added to her character sheet.


    ¡°The numbers make more sense once you understand the range,¡± Rosemallow said. ¡°One is considered to be about what a newborn human brings to the table, while one hundred represents the peak of natural human achievement. Obviously, we are talking humans here, so other species may have a different range. The range is weighted towards the low end; an average human is in the twenties on most natural traits. Your strength is appalling, but the other numbers look good. Someone been training you on the outside?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, Master,¡± she replied. Although, now that she thought of it, the Bros had certainly made her run and climb a lot back in the day.


    ¡°Body awareness is the most difficult to train, so you¡¯re beyond lucky there. Getting a little help from your bug friends?¡± she asked with an expression of distaste. ¡°I think it¡¯s disgusting what you people do to your bodies Outside. You couldn¡¯t pay me to put magic bugs in my body.¡±


    She shook her head. Lilijoy didn¡¯t see the need to correct her misconceptions, though she did bring one thing to Rosemallow¡¯s attention.


    ¡°I have flowers,¡± she said with a glow. ¡°Not bugs. Well, mostly not bugs. Anyway, my flowers are beautiful. Like your name, Master. That¡¯s a flower too, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t try to butter me up ¡®three-bites¡¯. You wouldn¡¯t believe how many guys and girls have brought me roses, trying to sweeten my disposition toward them.¡±


    Actually, Lilijoy had a little more trouble with the concept of anyone bringing any flowers whatsoever to the monstrous creature. She mentally slapped her wrist for the thought. She knew as well as anyone that looks were no way to measure a person.


    ¡°Master, the rose mallow is a flower that grows in wet areas. It¡¯s a kind of hibiscus. I would never bring you roses, that would be all wrong.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t sure if that had come out exactly right, but hoped the sentiment prevailed.


    Rosemallow looked down at her. ¡°Huh,¡¯ she said. ¡°Well, three-bites, I suppose there might be some type of thought rattling around in that little can of yours after all. Not that it will do you much good for this next bit. Follow me!¡± she barked without warning, rising from her chair.


    She strolled away and Lilijoy sprinted to catch up. After a short while, they emerged into a sandy courtyard, filled with stones and boulders of all shapes, sizes and colors.


    ¡°Make a pile for each color of rock,¡± Rosemallow ordered. ¡°White you carry above your head, yellow at your chest. Green goes on your neck and red you carry with your arms outstretched. Gray you swing between your knees and black you roll. Got it. Good. Go!¡±


    Lilijoy most certainly had not ¡®got it¡¯, but she remembered that black rocks were rolled, and that sounded like a good place to start. Until she realized that all the other rocks were in the way. Plus, the black ones were huge. She looked around for a small white rock and lifted it above her head with considerable effort. Straining and sweating she looked around for a good place to start her pile. Rosemallow caught her attention with a sharp whistle, and then pointed to a white platform at the far side of the courtyard, about six feet off the ground. There were no steps.


    Muscles already burning, Lilijoy let the rock drop heavily to the ground. ¡°Master, I can¡¯t even get up there by myself, let alone with a rock,¡± she whined.


    Rosemallow looked at Lilijoy. Then she looked at the rocks on the ground. She looked back at Lilijoy and pulled a small pouch from somewhere in her dress.


    ¡°I know you Outsiders like bugs...here is one just for you. The next time you say something stupid, I¡¯ll add two more. They sense body heat,¡± she added as she pulled something segmented and squirming from the pouch. ¡°But they don¡¯t move very fast.¡±


    She tossed the creature over to the pile nearest Lilijoy. She got a quick impression of claws and a stinger. Some kind of scorpion? The creature disappeared beneath the rocks in a flash of movement. Right, she thought. Slow.


    There was nothing to do but pile up rocks as steps, until she could climb the rocks themselves up to the platform. The other platforms were spaced evenly around the courtyard, each at a height appropriate for the mode of carry she was supposed to do. The platforms closest to white were black and red, the smallest and largest of the available rocks. Black was already ruled out, and red would make a pile of rubble more than stairs, so she resigned herself to gathering as many yellow and gray as she could.


    Her palms began to tear and blister by the third yellow rock, her legs quivered and her lower back twitched ominously. She was tempted to turn off her pain sense, but decided the feedback was preferable to a more serious strain or other injury. She tried moving a gray, swinging it between her knees and letting it go. It fell exactly where she released it. She picked it up again. Swing. Release. Swing. Release. Her palms were bleeding now; sweat dripped down her arm and stung the torn flesh. Any time she tried to rest, the devil insect would come out from its shelter and sting her feet, which were now swollen and lumpy.


    At some point Rosemallow had found a shady corner to take a nap. Her raspy snore was almost as irritating as the evil insect. Tears mingling with the sweat running down her face, Lilijoy gave up on the gray rock before it was halfway to the target, when it slipped out of her hands on the backswing and perversely rolled several feet in the wrong direction. She carried a couple red rocks to the red platform and heaved them up; it was just low enough for her to do so. She didn¡¯t want to end the day without a single rock in its place.


    By the time two hours had passed, Lilijoy was cursing her hair (it made her head hot), cursing her left arm, (it was there, so she had to carry rocks with it) and especially cursing the evil insect and its still more evil mistress, who was snoring in the corner.


    She had given up on anything other than moving white and green rocks, the green because they were the easiest of all, resting cradled on her neck and shoulders, and the white because once she had her elbows locked above her head, the actual trip wasn¡¯t so bad. By alternating two green and one white, she was able to build a couple of steps. Thighs and everything else burning, she mounted first one and then the next, her burden wriggling precariously over her head as she fought to maintain balance on the wobbling rocks, to finally slip it just over the edge of the white platform.


    She collapsed at the base of the platform, too tired to feel any sense of accomplishment. The evil bug chose that moment to sting her in the thigh. She leapt to her feet and decided it was time for devil bug to die. The red rocks were surprisingly light when not held at arm¡¯s length, and she gathered one up to lay in wait for the next sting attempt.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± came Rosemallow¡¯s voice. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not thinking of attempting bodily harm on poor Sweetums.¡±


    Now Lilijoy had a name for her tormentor. Sweetums, the devil bug was going to pay.


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to kill it a little, Master,¡± she said. ¡°Please don¡¯t be mad.¡± Lilijoy was past any rational thought.


    ¡°Did you know...¡± started Rosemallow, ¡°that the bite of the marsh decapede, after the initial pain and swelling, is a powerful systemic anti-inflammatory. Its venom promotes healing and muscle growth in most humanoid species. My people have used them for years to enhance training and reduce the aftereffects of strenuous labor.¡±


    ¡°So I can¡¯t kill it?¡± She almost slipped up and hastily added, ¡°Master.¡±


    ¡°Only if you want to host the next generation for me. They are beneficial to humanoids, you see, because they want us to stay alive after they lay their eggs. In us.¡±


    No wonder she can¡¯t stand the idea of having bugs! thought Lilijoy. Then she ran as fast as she could to the white platform and pulled herself up, a miraculous feat. She began checking every inch of her body for any sign of egg laying.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the eggs,¡± called Rosemallow, ¡°it takes them several minutes to implant even one. It¡¯s why they are attracted to still and slow-moving targets.¡±


    There was a certain elegance to the creature¡¯s life cycle that Lilijoy could appreciate. Nature was not always pretty or nice, but it certainly was full of wonders.


    Horrible, awful, nasty wonders.

 Book 2: Ch. 2: Identities

    Rosemallow excused Lilijoy from further training for the day after that.


    ¡°Decent effort,¡± she concluded, ¡°Godawful results. Where did you go wrong?¡±


    Lilijoy had many answers to that, all of which involved ever listening to Rosemallow, or coming to the courtyard, the Academy, and even the Inside itself, but she wisely kept them to herself.


    ¡°I should have started with the Green, Master. They were the easiest to carry.¡±


    ¡°And...¡±


    ¡°The gray one was a mistake, Master.¡±


    ¡°And...¡±


    Lilijoy had to think a bit longer. ¡°Maybe I got too caught up in the white stones,¡± she started to talk faster, ¡°if I was going to do all the rocks, Master, I should do the whites second to last and use the black rocks as steps. They would be the last ones.¡±


    ¡°Not bad. At least you can think. So what did you learn?¡±


    ¡°Thinking the problem through before starting is good. Not getting caught up in a small problem and forgetting the big one too. Master¡±


    ¡°Wrong!¡± Rosemallow roared. ¡°You should have learned that you need to be stronger! Then you can save your thinking for more important things.¡±


    She slapped her fist into her palm. ¡°Tomorrow, we will do it again. Use your new strategy and see if it helps. If you don¡¯t have at least one rock of each color on a platform in less time than you spent today, I will lock you in a closet with Sweetums and her friends.¡± Lilijoy really hoped she wasn¡¯t serious.


    ¡°Oh, one other thing. Stop with all the ¡®Master¡¯ this and ¡®Master¡¯ that. It¡¯s driving me up the wall.¡±


    With that parting thought, she turned abruptly and marched back into the building


    ***


    Lilijoy logged out and returned to her room. I have a room, she thought to herself, as she had many times for the last few days. A room all to myself. No one trying to catch me or kill me. Just my very own space.


    It was the most amazing thing. She looked around the tiny windowless space, at the narrow cot, the rough floor and walls. It was the most luxurious space she had ever imagined, because it was hers.


    Soon after Anda had recovered enough to message her, they contacted Marcus and explained the situation. Upon hearing that Lilijoy had registered her system successfully, he was willing to guide them to the remote enclave where he had fled, a cold mountain valley surrounded by glaciers in the part of the continent that had once been Bolivia.


    The city of Cochabambo was almost entirely deserted. Largely untouched by the Great Warming Wars, the population was still subject to massive starvation and encroaching ice from the surrounding mountains. The area was now cut off entirely by massive ice flows and compressed snow. Lilijoy had met a hovercraft driven by Marcus and followed him through a long chain of passes and tunnels in the ice.


    By the time they emerged, both Lilijoy and Anda were frozen half to death. The assault craft had no heating system, other than excellent environmental seals for insulation.


    Anda had not been shy in expressing his unhappiness. At all. His constant complaining and frustration with physical impairments related to his brain injury had worn on Lilijoy, even as she recognized he really had no control over his behavior. After the first day, she had been forced to quarantine the constant flow of messages raging at her, the cold, the boredom, his mental sluggishness and any other topic that passed a certain threshold of irritation.


    Which was nearly everything. He itched. He felt strange. He was tired of being hungry. He was tired of eating.


    It was too much for her to handle. Anda wasn¡¯t Anda.


    It was with tremendous guilt and great relief that she had handed him off to Marcus and the handful of the other refugees from various clan''s retribution huddling in the deserted city. All scientists and intellectuals, they were in a far better position to help Anda at the moment. Being trapped in a small space for three days straight, barely able to cultivate or retreat from the situation had worn her nerves to the last thread. She still visited him several times a day, which was a mixed bag. At times, he was exuberant and upbeat, laughing loudly and waving his arms. His large motor skills had largely returned, and his fine control was improving daily.


    It was the bad visits which made her grateful to escape to the Inside. He would lash out at her. Blame her for his injury, for everything that he had been through. She knew it was the brain trauma speaking when he was like that, but it was impossible not to feel hurt and angry herself. She forced herself to keep visiting anyway, using the experience as fuel for her determination to become strong enough to help him.


    She was also troubled by her inability to help Attaboy. Every passing day meant a greater chance of his death. She feared that even if he was alive, he would be nothing more than a mindless body when she found him.


    The anxiety of inaction was a constant companion when she was on the Outside.


    Cultivating and going Inside made her feel like she was doing something, anything to advance her mission, but eating, sleeping, reading; all these felt like wastes of time, no matter how much she rationally knew they weren¡¯t. It was unbearable at times. If she needed more than a few hours sleep, she would have been in real trouble.


    Now that she was Outside again, she needed to decide. Visit Anda, or cultivate?


    Definitely cultivate.


    She sank into her soul space. The Tree of Thorns greeted her, cradling the sparkling black basalt model of her brain between its roots. The evil blade inscribed on its trunk wriggled without moving, as if happy to see her. She hadn¡¯t changed any of the details from her initial design, but around the periphery of the space she had created standing stones and statues. The stones were somewhat cylindrical, dark glossy stone interwoven with rougher flint. Some of the columns had been chipped away from the top down, turned into statues, figures emerging from the stone.


    Anda was there, his torso projected out as if in motion, back arched and chest thrust out. His arms bent at the elbows and his hands met in the space just above his eyes, fingertips grazing the site of his injury. There were no details on his face; only an open mouth and blank unseeing eyes could be seen.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She had been feeling pretty dark when she made that one.


    Attaboy was there too, just his head and arms reaching out of the column, either sinking or surfacing from the stone. She hadn¡¯t decided which. These statues were her reminders, her motivators. She hoped they would never be memorials.


    Some of the other columns had hints of form, a folded arm, a flattened face. One was a pile of shards, slumped over and scattered along the ground. Almost subliminally hidden among the sharp edges and points was the figure of a dog, curled up as if sleeping.


    All mementos of her time before the Tao system came into her life.


    She moved past her creations and placed her palm on the top middle of her brain, moving into her mind space via the motor cortex. She had discovered this area of her brain only recently and had fallen in love with the experience of dancing through a field of lights that registered her every move. She had discovered how to manifest a dream body in this space, weaving in and out of the lights that reflected its motion and had spent hours dancing within her own mind in a sea of color that she shaped.


    If only there was sound, she thought.


    She reached out and expanded her awareness, reached and stretched and slid until she was connected with her auditory cortex as well as the visual and motor areas. At first her movements caused bursts of white noise, spikes and pops and deep buzzes to manifest as she waved her arms. Soon though, she had figured out the trick of accessing her memory¡¯s library of sounds, and the pops became bells, the hum became a horn and the crackling became the twittering of birds from the forest of her Trial.


    Lost in the bliss of the light and sound and movement, she sculpted and carved a choreography of her own mind, feeling her way to ever more compelling combinations, synesthetic interpretations with no sensory boundary, just blissful wholeness.


    When she came to a pause, Jiannu spoke gently to her.


    ¡°That was beautiful Lilijoy. I am so proud and happy to be a part of you. It has been seven hours, so you might want to cultivate now.¡±


    Lilijoy awoke from her trance. Seven hours! So little time had passed for her subjectively, it felt like minutes at the most. Her mind felt better. Different.


    ¡°Jiannu, has anything changed while I was dancing?¡± she asked.


    There was a pause. ¡°You have achieved complete synergy between sight and hearing, with far greater integration of your sense of movement as well. Let me show you.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3">Rank 1: Sense Details (7/10)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vision</td>


    <td>9</td>


    <td>Work on: Integrated visual information (targeting), peripheral awareness, telescoping, expanded wavelengths</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Hearing</td>


    <td>9</td>


    <td>Work on improving spatial mapping, widening audible spectrum</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Smell/Taste</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>


    Develop spatial sense, better chemical and gradient analysis, larger library of identifications. Suggest training with no sight or hearing.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Touch</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>Train greater sensitivity in detail, air currents, focus on hair follicles</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioception</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>Take what you learned from Emily¡¯s piano and apply it to many movement-based skills, particularly acrobatics and martial arts. Practice mirroring ¨C translating sight to movement</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Synergy</td>


    <td>7</td>


    <td>With experience, begin using senses together much more. Spatial map can be based on all senses simultaneously and can contain near complete information about your local environment.</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy was happy to see that her sight and proprioception had improved, as well as the jump in her synergy levels. Imagine what my dance would have been like with smells and tastes added in, she thought. Maybe next time.


    It was a wonderful feeling, not approaching cultivation with desperation and urgency. She was still far behind where she wanted to be though, still recovering from making the med bugs for Anda and using her own flowers to defeat Mo. When she was done she pulled up her status.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: UNRATED</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>131,266 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>81%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>71%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>4 detected, 3 identified</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>NANOBODY COUNT</td>


    <td>131,266 [Action Needed]</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">131,266/150,000 for secondary/support integration</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Current Average Attrition</td>


    <td>9/hour (stable)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Estimated Time to Goal</td>


    <td>16.62 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Cultivation Rate</td>


    <td>1,127/hour over 72 hours</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Cultivate | Differentiate | Assign</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Now that¡¯s more like it! she thought.


    ¡°Jiannu, I keep meaning to ask. Did we get another support bug from somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I believe that a small sample of Anda¡¯s skin improving bugs entered our system during your surgical intervention.¡±


    ¡°When I was sucking on his brain, you mean.¡±


    ¡°Yes. That is the most likely scenario. The sample size is inadequate for cultivation at our current levels. It is possible that...¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, it is possible when I¡¯ve developed Stage two.¡± Lilijoy interrupted.


    She was tired, so very tired of everything depending on Stage two. The way the system worked was strange. You needed Stage one to get to Stage two, but then you needed to go back and finish Stage one, which you could only do with Stage two. It seemed unnecessarily complicated to her. Not that she could come up with a better way.


    She prepared to withdraw back to the Outside.


    ¡°Lilijoy, there is something from the logs I¡¯ve wanted to show you. Do you have another minute?¡± Jiannu asked.


    ¡°Sure?¡± said Lilijoy. She really wanted to make sure her body¡¯s bladder didn¡¯t explode. It had been at least nine hours.


    ¡°There is a portion of one of Emily¡¯s memories that contains information you should know. I don¡¯t understand it well enough to give you any answers, so I¡¯ll just play it for you and let you draw your own conclusions. I¡¯ve set it at the ¡®hover¡¯ level so that you can be as detached as possible¡±


    The familiar feeling of dropping into one of Emily¡¯s archived memories came over Lilijoy, though it felt less personal than before, more like watching a movie in her mind. She watched the conversation between the two siblings with interest.


    I don¡¯t see anything particularly earth-shaking here, Lilijoy thought. But it sure is nice to see that she liked her brother so much.


    Then she reached their farewells.


    Emily said, ¡°You be safe out there, Attiboy.¡±


    Atticus replied, ¡°You too, Emi-lily Choi.¡±


    At first her mind bounced off it. That¡¯s cute! They had little pet names for each other.


    Then she processed. Attiboy. Attaboy. Lily Choi. Lilijoy.


    No... What?


    It didn¡¯t make any kind of sense. How could she and Attaboy be named after the two Choi children? She frantically paged back through her memories, looking for connections. She had Emily¡¯s system, removed from her over one hundred and fifty year before. It wasn¡¯t a random accident. Someone had named her. Someone had named Attaboy for that matter. Strange names, she had come to learn. Unique even. Who had given them those names? Where had she gotten her system? She had been leaning toward the poodle that she fought in the Piles, but that didn¡¯t make any sense at all, considering the new information.


    She thought back to her tribe, her enigmatic band of ¡®indigenes¡¯. Who were almost certainly not indigenous to the Amazon area, at least most of them. Emily lived in Brazil. Atticus too, before he went off to work for his parent¡¯s company. The company that made the system.


    It was all too much.


    ¡°Jiannu. What¡¯s going on?¡± she begged. ¡°Who am I? Who are you? What¡¯s going on!¡± Her mental voice rose in force as she talked. ¡°Someone did this! Someone knows what''s going on. Is it you?¡±


    Jiannu tried to say something, but Lilijoy cut her off. ¡°You just ¡®coincidentally¡¯ found this memory now? After I changed my name on the inside to Emily and everything. That¡¯s not creepy at all! How many more memories do you have like this? Is the system turning me into someone else? Into Her?¡±


    If there had been a door to slam, Lilijoy would undoubtedly have made her mind shake with the force of its closure. As it was, she abruptly logged herself Inside. She had some rocks to move.

 Book 2: Ch. 3: Flash

    Interlude: Attaboy


    A musty smell filled his nostrils. There was an echo of a voice in his head, deep and resonant. Saying¡­ something. He couldn¡¯t remember.


    A wave of pain washed through his body, causing involuntary spasms of movement. He gasped for breath as the pain subsided. The taste of metal filled his mouth, and he spat onto the dirty stone floor, expecting blood. What fluid emerged was thick and hung from his mouth in a single strand, clinging to his cracked lip. He attempted to wipe it off with his arm, but stopped as another wave of pain was triggered by the movement.


    After some time, he realized he didn¡¯t know where he was.


    Some time after that, he realized he didn¡¯t know who he was.


    He lay on the stone floor and felt the grit beneath his cheek for a long time before he heard a sound.


    Singing.


    The woman¡¯s voice approached, echoing off stone walls. The song briefly paused and he heard metal jingling. Then it resumed and he heard someone enter the room. He was turned away from whoever it was, but he heard the song falter for a moment, and a sigh. Then a voice babbling in sounds he could not resolve into language. A hand touched his shoulder, gently. More sounds, and arms came under his body and he rose up and fell into darkness as the full force of his pain was unleashed.


    <hr>


    Chapter 3


    Still seething, Lilijoy appeared back in the courtyard. It was the middle of the night, and two huge moons hung in the sky, blue and green, lighting the area almost as well as the sun did on the Outside. Lilijoy had heard a rumor that the moons were filled with the most dangerous and vicious creatures, even more dangerous than Purgatory, the zone outside of the Garden.


    Millions of people stayed in the Garden, long after they had grown up and graduated from the Academy, Institute or Training Grounds. They stayed mostly for the security; Outsiders were not allowed to attack each other outside of duels in the Garden. Even if you did die, the only consequence was advancing the Death Counter, which wouldn¡¯t even matter unless you went to Purgatory. There, the penalties for dying were much harsher.


    She had heard that everything was much harsher.


    The only reason people left the Garden was the lack of challenge. Since advancing in the Inside was tied to novelty, challenge, suffering, inspiration and discovery, eventually a powerful character would run out of any source of experience. The Inside only allowed experience once for a particular event or activity, and even similar activities had rapidly diminishing returns.


    She had read about the early generations of ¡®virtual reality games¡¯ where players needed to kill the same animal or monster hundreds of times so they could grow stronger. She was really glad that idea didn¡¯t survive Guardian¡¯s takeover of the Inside.


    It¡¯s called ¡®experience¡¯ for goodness sake, she thought. It seemed like common sense that doing the exact same thing over and over didn¡¯t lead to real growth. Though I bet they were amazing at killing bunnies.


    Surveying the rocks scattered around the moonlit courtyard, her body was feeling good, so she decided to get in a round of practice before her next day¡¯s workout. This time she started with green, on her neck and shoulders, which felt surprisingly easy. She did three greens before switching to red with outstretched arm, then white over her head. She tried to rotate the muscle groups as much as possible and spare the skin on her hands.


    They''re already tougher, she noted. Nandi¡¯s boon glistened in the worn skin of her right palm. I wonder if I¡¯ll ever know what it does.


    The Inside was realistic in many ways, and Lilijoy had heard that it had become more so over time, as if Guardian, or his subsets anyway, were guiding it gradually to convergence with the Outside. She just hoped it never got all the way there. Fast healing, no need to use the bathroom, and a total lack pesky flies, biting and otherwise, were all features of the Inside that the Outside should emulate as far as she was concerned.


    The first gray rock she moved was a bit easier than before, but she didn¡¯t make the mistake of overdoing it this time. After a few swings she changed to a different color rock. She also realized that if she released the gray at the right point in the arc it would roll a foot or two, especially if she managed to get it to come down on top of another rock.


    She finished the greens before she knew it. This was good and bad, because they were the only break for her aching, trembling arms. She decided to try moving a black boulder that now had a little clearing around it. If she couldn¡¯t move it, she would be in trouble tomorrow. Or is it today? The moons had moved across the sky, apparently in opposite directions, and now her shadow was a monstrous elongated beast with two torsos.


    She took a moment to enjoy waving four arms along the rock strewn ground, thinking of Nandi.


    What would it be like to have four arms? she thought. I¡¯ll have to ask Jiannu if the system could ever do something like that.


    Then she remembered that she was extremely angry at Jiannu and not likely to ask her anything soon.


    What am I going to do with someone I don¡¯t trust living in my head? she wondered.


    Getting back to the black boulder, she found that if she braced her back against it and used her legs, she could move it fairly easily. A tall person couldn¡¯t do that! she thought with satisfaction. She was ready.


    ***


    She wasn¡¯t ready. The next morning, after logging out to catch a little sleep, she returned to the courtyard to find Rosemallow tossing the green rocks back onto the ground from the green platform.


    ¡°Looks like the mice moved the rocks last night,¡± the enormous Oni said. ¡°I must have made them too light. Luckily, I have a fix for that problem.¡±


    She moved to the center of the open space. In a low, resonant voice like boulders grinding she spoke four words. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t hear the words properly; they were somehow slippery to her mind¡¯s attempt to listen, sliding off her ears before they reached any place of language. But the essence of the words was as clear as the sun in the sky. Fundamental. Massive. Growing. Weight.


    Lilijoy¡¯s knees buckled, she staggered and almost lost her balance. Did I just get heavier?


    ¡°There, that should do it,¡± said Rosemallow, dusting off her palms. ¡°No mouse is going to move these rocks now, I can promise that.¡±


    ¡°Master, what was that?¡± Lilijoy asked. She knew she should be worried about moving the rocks, however witnessing such a magical feat had her spellbound.


    ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s your first stupid question of the day,¡± said Rosemallow with relish. Out came the pouch with the marsh decapedes. ¡°I think Sweetums is still a little tired from all the biting you made her do yesterday. Meet Betty.¡±


    Betty looked no different from Sweetums to Lilijoy. Still, she wanted to be polite, so she said, ¡°Hello, Betty. It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    Rosemallow gave her an odd look. Before she could toss Betty among the rocks, Lilijoy asked, ¡°Can I look at her up close? I never got to really see Sweetums yesterday; she was always moving so fast.¡±


    The Oni gave a nod, so Lilijoy approached, dragging her feet through the heavy gravity. She could only hope it slowed Betty down as well. Lilijoy inspected the marsh decapede, feeling a little bad about her desire to crush Sweetums the day before.


    Betty had ten feathery legs that swept out to the side of her foot-long body. Bands of brown and dull yellow swirled over her exoskeleton in regular patterns. What Lilijoy had taken for a stinger the day before was actually an ovipositor, three inches long and slightly curled. It twitched several times when Lilijoy got closer.


    That¡¯s more disturbing than a stinger, Lilijoy thought, realizing that Betty would surely love to implant her eggs in the nice small human. Her head featured four densely tufted antennae, a single piercing proboscis, and no apparent eyes.


    Bet she hunts with those antennae, probably with scent and air currents. I bet if I fanned the air with something while I rested, I could confuse her enough to avoid a bite or two.


    As Lilijoy had the thought, there was a small chime and a notification appeared in her vision.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 901 EXP Reached: Level 9 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    I love that I get experience for being curious! she thought. If only learning Outside could be this rewarding.


    Excited by her new level, Lilijoy moved immediately to the closest green rock. Even moving without carrying weight was challenging, though she was getting used to it. She glanced over at Rosemallow for permission to begin. The Oni nodded and gently placed Betty on the ground, who immediately disappeared into a nearby pile. Lilijoy wondered for a moment why Rosemallow could handle the marsh decapedes without being bitten. She decided there must be some trick she could learn later. Maybe pheromones or something.


    Two hours later, Lilijoy was regretting her life decisions. She wasn¡¯t sure exactly where she had gone wrong, but she must have done something truly awful to merit the hell she was experiencing.


    Her strategy had worked, to a point. Deciding she should accomplish the bare minimum of the task before her, she plotted the path for the black boulder, first to the white platform and then to its final home. She chose the other colors she would move to the platforms from the rocks in that path, though she would certainly need to clear more than one of each. The red was almost impossible in the increased gravity. She had to swing it up into place, take a step before her trembling arm gave up, and then repeat the process. Switching arms helped, as did alternating side and front positions. Ultimately, she had to give up after ten feet, do other tasks, and then come back. The gray was back to being impossible, or nearly so. Only by resting frequently was she able to bring the green, yellow, red, and finally gray to their platforms.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She achieved something resembling rest by the simple strategy of removing her tunic and waving it in the air to confuse Betty. Luckily, modesty was a distant concept at best to Lilijoy; any witnesses passing by must have been surprised to see a half-naked girl sitting on a rock, tunic in hand, fanning the air with great vigor. Even that motion was enough to make her tired arms burn, but it was better than nothing.


    It was when she attempted to move the black boulder that she felt despair. Her feet couldn¡¯t get purchase on the sandy surface of the courtyard ground to move the increased weight, scrabbling fruitlessly as her back slowly slid down the boulder that must weigh three or four times more than she did. She slumped down against the side, too tired to think.


    After Betty reminded her why that wasn¡¯t a great idea, she had a bit more energy from the shock of pain. She was running out of time though.


    If only my feet weren¡¯t slipping in the sand¡­


    Well, that would be easy enough to solve. She used her tunic to sweep the sand and grit off the cobblestones that appeared underneath. In a fit of further inspiration, she smashed one of the cobblestones repeatedly with a red stone, until it cracked and she was able to pry up the pieces. Now she had a shallow hole to brace her feet on.


    The process was achingly slow, but one broken cobblestone at a time, moving in a zig-zag pattern so she always had a place to brace from, she was able to move the black boulder to the white platform, climb on to it with a white stone, and then finally, agonizingly roll and slide it to the black platform, which thankfully wasn¡¯t a platform at all, just a black square painted on the courtyard floor.


    Victory.


    Victory?


    She looked over at Rosemallow, who was in the shade paging through a tome bigger than Lilijoy.


    ¡°I did it,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Did I do it?¡± she asked with a stronger voice. Rosemallow looked up from her reading.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to need to pay for that,¡± she said, gesturing to the trail of smashed cobblestones cutting across the courtyard.


    ***


    After drinking some water and resting without fear of further bites by Betty, Lilijoy felt almost human. A human who had been pounded repeatedly against the floor by an ogre. Still she was able to carry her part of the conversation with her trainer, mostly because her part of the conversation was nodding occasionally to show she understood.


    Rosemallow was in the middle of a lecture on Lilijoy¡¯s lack of strength, sitting in her hideous white and pink chair.


    ¡°The only good thing about being so weak,¡± she explained, ¡°is that your initial gains will seem pretty good to you. For example, your strength trait is now at thirteen. That¡¯s two points in one day. Just keep in mind it¡¯s completely meaningless. Once you hit the upper teens, you won¡¯t ever see gains like that again. Today I raised the gravity by about thirty percent. Tomorrow we¡¯ll try fifty. And poor Betty didn¡¯t get nearly enough biting in. You don¡¯t want Betty to feel sad, do you?¡±


    Lilijoy shook her head.


    ¡°Then no more of this silly tunic waving. You¡¯re disturbing the other students.¡±


    Lilijoy hadn¡¯t noticed any other students. In fact, she had been wondering where they were.


    Anticipating her question, Rosemallow added ¡°Most of them are out for Experience Term. We alternate training and lessons with experience gathering every two weeks. They¡¯ll be back in another week. But I¡¯m sure you disturbed them anyway.¡±


    Lilijoy let that go. She hoped she would do more than move increasingly heavy rocks for the next week.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯d like to do more than move pebbles for the next week. My plan is to get you caught up on common knowledge and explore more of your character sheet. We may even start some combat training. Don¡¯t expect to be swinging any swords around though. You need to walk before you can run. Or in your case, you need to breathe before you can crawl. Either way, we will start drilling stances before and after the strength training, if I¡¯m in a good mood.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. She wasn¡¯t sure if she should be happy for some variety or horrified at the idea of doing more training after the rocks were moved.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with some more traits. Tell me about the natural traits.¡±


    Lilijoy dutifully regurgitated what she had learned the previous day.


    ¡°Fine. Now, in addition to those, we have our ¡®magical traits¡¯. Those supplement our natural abilities in unnatural ways. For instance, Power supplements Strength, and Vitality supplements Endurance. You can raise them with Free Points, so they go up easy. Of course, you have to make hard choices. If you raise your Power, there¡¯s something else that¡¯s staying the same. Free Points are a valuable commodity, and you will never, I repeat never, spend your points without consulting me. Are we absolutely clear on that point?¡±


    Nod.


    ¡°Good. Once you¡¯ve died a few times, you can lose points in Purgatory. I¡¯d hate to have to take you there for an object lesson.¡±


    Lilijoy gulped. Purgatory sounded awful.


    Rosemallow went into her third eye state and pulled out another piece of paper. ¡°This is the whole list of your magical traits. You¡¯ll be very confused. I wish I could say that¡¯s perfectly normal, but really, it isn¡¯t. Just try not to have an aneurysm.¡±


    She handed the paper to Lilijoy.


    <hr>


    POW: 11


    INV: 34


    VIT: 13


    FLA: 35


    MW: 94


    MG: 10


    EAF: 33


    EAE: 58


    EAW: 30


    EAA: 28


    CHS: 28


    CHA: 62


    CHP: 41


    <hr>


    Lilijoy held the paper at arm¡¯s length, hoping that the long list of meaningless letters and numbers might resolve themselves into something, anything, that remotely made sense to her. The fatigue from moving rocks all morning washed over her. She thought her lower lip might be trembling.


    Her disturbed reverie was broken by Rosemallow¡¯s braying laughter.


    ¡°Ha! If you could see your face,¡± she said, still chortling. ¡°Here, try this one. I¡¯ve broken it down a bit to make it easier to digest.


    <hr>


    POWER: 11 (+55% STR, Effective STR = 20)


    INVULNERABILITY: 34 (-34 physical damage, applied after modifiers)


    VITALITY: 13 (+ 13 to END)


    FLASH: 35 (+175% SPD, Effective SPD = 162 )


    <hr>


    ¡°The rest of that stuff is all directly magic related. Mana stuff, elements, charm, that kind of thing. I¡¯ll leave that to your magic instructor. Here¡¯s what you need to know: Your numbers are good. Some of them are great. You must have taken a hell of a beating in your Trial to get that Invulnerability score. I guess sometimes it pays to be weak.¡±


    She looked thoughtful for a moment, considering how such an idea could possibly fit into her world view.


    ¡°Of course, it doesn¡¯t hurt that you got an absolutely obscene bonus from your ¡®Defender of the Young¡¯ title. One point of INV per child saved. No one else has ever come close. Now that I¡¯ve activated these traits for you, I could hit you across the room a dozen times the way I did before without hurting you.¡± She looked oddly pleased at the idea. ¡°Of course, I was using a tiny portion of my true strength. Don¡¯t count on thirty-four Invulnerability doing more than take the edge off in real combat.¡±


    She continued with her lecture, and Lilijoy did her best to listen. Part of her mind was still trying to understand being knocked across the room without sustaining an injury.


    ¡°Master,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Could you do it? Knock me across the...¡±


    The wall came flying at her very fast. After the initial bounce, she met a table, and then the floor. It was jarring. It was disorienting. It barely hurt. She felt...well, invulnerable.


    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt!¡± barked Rosemallow. ¡°Now, where was I? Right, Health stat. It¡¯s how you know whether you¡¯re about to die or not. Reasonably important. Just add STR and END to find the base, sixty-six for you at the moment. Vitality just adds on top of that, so seventy-nine. Combat types argue a lot about whether INV or VIT is better, and most settle for some of both. They are wrong. INV matters much more. Yes, it doesn¡¯t help with magic and it doesn¡¯t help with poison. I don¡¯t care. In a fight with many enemies, you are going to get hit. A lot. INV subtracts from each and every hit. There¡¯s no way to match that with Vitality. End of story. To make matters worse, it costs more to raise VIT. It¡¯s a crap stat.¡±


    She was getting a bit heated in her gestures, and Lilijoy had to duck several times as she regained her seat on the stool.


    ¡°So anyway, here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. We¡¯ll wait. You are fine for now as is. Let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t raise your endurance further. A few more rock sessions and some other training I have in mind should boost it by a few ticks. Strength should come up too. You¡¯re not likely to be a front-line combat type, so we can balance it a little. Once you unlock magic and skills, we can make some decisions. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°What does Flash do?¡± Lilijoy felt comfortable leaving off the ¡®Master¡¯ now that she couldn¡¯t be killed by accident. She had been confused all day about what to call Rosemallow and had figured the occasional honorific wouldn¡¯t hurt.


    ¡°Flash is your ace in the hole. You are already a speedy little thing, though your short legs will keep you from winning any races. Don¡¯t count on running away as a good strategy in every situation. Your combat strategy will be getting in close while avoiding damage, and dishing out critical hits. Your accuracy is going to end up off the charts, so as long as you don¡¯t get hit, you¡¯ll be a tough opponent for those in your level range. Flash boosts your speed five percent per point, just like Power, so you are already almost three times as fast as you would be without magic. I¡¯ll take you out now to see how that works. It¡¯s not as simple as it seems.¡±


    Without another word, Rosemallow rose to her full eight feet and strode from the room. Lilijoy hurried to follow, wondering as she ran where all her ¡®Flash¡¯ was. The bright corridor was paneled in a light cedar wood with a dark slate floor. As she rushed down the hall, she could see flashes of green fields through the narrow floor to ceiling glass windows that came every ten feet or so. At the end they reached doors fit for an Oni, giant wooden panels with cast iron fittings.


    Rosemallow pushed them apart like parting curtains, revealing a view overlooking green grassy fields surrounding six large circular structures. The doors fed into a cobbled path that ran down the hill upon which the main Academy building rested, cutting back several times before reaching the bottom and the first of the arenas. They had to be arenas; Lilijoy could see dirt floors and seating in the nearest from her perspective above them on the hill.


    ¡°Good to feel some air!¡± Rosemallow bellowed. Lilijoy could see the distant structures in the echoes.


    ¡°Now, the first step to using Flash is the command word. It¡¯s ¡®Flash¡±, so that part should be easy, even for you. It¡¯s a safety system to keep young idiots from breaking things, so later, you can use it however you want. I¡¯ve activated it for you, so try it out.¡±


    ¡°Flash?¡±


    Evidently, there was no difference between a question and a command, because Lilijoy¡¯s world flipped and altered as soon as she spoke. Her mind didn¡¯t feel that different, but even the smallest gesture was somehow amplified. She tried to speak, but her tongue and lips fluttered and chopped the words she meant to say into unintelligible fragments. She took a step, but her leg moved faster than the rest of her body and she flipped herself onto her back.


    How do I turn this off! she thought in a panic. Attempts to get back on her feet were disastrously uncoordinated, arms and legs flailed wildly as her brain¡¯s impulses failed to match the physics of the Inside.


    She realized that the problem was that her brain was not moving any faster, just her body. She could hear Rosemallow laughing uncontrollably in the background.


    ¡°This never gets old! You look like a beetle trying to flip over,¡± the Oni commented as she caught her breath. ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad you can turn it on and off?¡±


    Lilijoy was a little upset, due to the fact that she couldn¡¯t turn it off at all.


    ¡°Othhhh!¡± she called, holding her mouth open so the word wouldn¡¯t get chopped. Her trainer looked at her, shaking her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s just too easy. Fine. Say ¡®Flash off¡¯. It¡¯s the intent that matters, not how clearly you say it.¡±


    Soon, Lilijoy was able to control her body again. She remained on the ground, glaring up at Rosemallow and restraining herself from speaking. There was really nothing to say that wouldn¡¯t cause more laughter, or sudden reprisal.


    Rosemallow calmed her laughter. ¡°Wow, you really got it bad. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen an Outie come out of the trials with so much Flash. Usually they¡¯re half again as fast at most.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°This will require some thought...we need a way to slow down your body so you can learn how to move again.¡± She snapped her fingers, ¡°I¡¯ve got it! Follow me.¡±


    Once again, Lilijoy hurried to catch her trainer¡¯s rapidly retreating form. At the first switchback, she continued straight off the path, cutting through the low juniper shrubs until she reached a steep rocky slope overlooking a pond nestled into the side of the hill.


    ¡°In you go! Let yourself sink for a bit, then go into Flash.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t swim!¡±


    ¡°Perfect! You can learn that too. Try not to drown. I¡¯m not sure if this would add to your Death Counter.¡±


    With that, she picked up Lilijoy and tossed her fifty feet, directly into the middle of the pond.

 Book 2: Ch. 4: Castles

    Interlude: Attaboy


    There was something moist on his lips and he realized he was sucking on it desperately, aching to pull every drop from the damp cloth on his mouth. He opened his eyes, then closed them to escape the bright white light overhead.


    A shadow fell across his lids, and he dared to open his eyes again. The head of an old woman looked down at him, haloed by the light behind her. Her hair was in long gray braids, her brown skin spotted and deeply wrinkled. She smiled at him toothlessly when she saw his eyes open, and placed a finger across her lips.


    Humming to herself, she leaned away, and the light forced him to close his eyes again. The cloth in his mouth was replaced, and he sucked on it. Her hand brushed his matted hair back from his forehead.


    By the time the old woman left his cell, he had graduated to small sips of water. The pain that wracked his body had subsided somewhat, but not enough that he dared to move more than his head. It was when he turned his head to watch the old woman close the heavy wooden door as she left that he noticed it, a faint image inscribed onto his vision. It looked like a small star floating in the air in front of him, but when he moved his eyes, it traveled, always hanging just to the upper right of where his eye focused.


    It made him remember.


    <hr>


    Chapter 4: Castles


    The thing Lilijoy noticed about being submerged in water, after the sting of the impact and the thousands of tiny bubbles streaming on their way to the waving green light of the surface, was the strange effect it had on her echolocation. Her internal map of the pond condensed around her, the bottom and side zoomed in until she felt like she was in a small pool, then stabilized. Her eyes stung from the water, which she thought was odd; didn¡¯t her eyes water already?


    The messages from her eyes as she peered through the somewhat murky surroundings created a tug of war with her ears, resulting in the dimensions of the pond fluctuating in and out, until finally stabilizing closer to what she knew was the truth; a much bigger body of water than her ears were trying to tell her.


    There must be something funny about sound in water, she thought. She was several feet below the surface, neither sinking or floating at the moment. Her body had somehow known to hold her breath in that first second of shock. She didn¡¯t feel the need to draw a breath quite yet, which was a good thing, as no air was available.


    After some experimentation with waving her arms in various ways, she stumbled upon a basic paddle that moved her to the surface. As she surfaced, Rosemallow yelled to her from atop the slope.


    ¡°Get back in there and Flash! With your stats, you should be able to stay under easily for three or four minutes.¡±


    She took a deep breath and was about to submerge again, when a large insect visited her, a blur of wings and a long metallic-blue body with two huge iridescent faceted eyes that sparked in the sunlight. The sight captivated her, as did the movements of the insect as it hovered and darted with perfect control over its flight. All thoughts of Rosemallow forgotten, she studied the <dragonfly> with wonder at the miraculously perfect animal. She lost track of it when it flew behind her head, but then felt its tiny feet on her hair.


    It landed on me! Now I¡¯m an island!


    The magic of the moment was broken by her trainer bellowing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me throw Sweetums and Betty in there! They¡¯re even quicker in water!¡±


    She lowered her head into the water as slowly as she could, and felt her new friend depart. That may be my new favorite, she thought. Lilijoy had a new favorite creature several times a day, but she felt that this connection had more staying power than usual. She forced herself still lower and braced herself. ¡°Flash,¡± she bubbled.


    Again, her world slipped and slid as her mind and body moved into different time streams. But now, her movements were held back by the resistance of the water, and her buoyancy meant that balance was no longer an issue. She flipped herself around by accident a time or two, learning to kick with her legs, but that was more fun than alarming. After several minutes of practice, she brought herself up to the surface with carefully controlled movements, staying in Flash mode.


    She kicked with her legs slowly, or what felt slow anyway, and her head and shoulders crested above the water. Kicking steadily faster, she propelled herself almost completely out, flopping over onto her back as the water ceased to hold her in place. Feet still kicking, she allowed herself to shoot across the surface, which was great fun until her head connected with a submerged rock close to the shore. The collision did little more than alert her to her location, and soon she was shooting all over the surface on her back, racing curious dragonflies.


    Exhilarated and breathless, she canceled Flash and made it to shore to rest for a minute. Rosemallow made her way down and sat next to her, almost holding a pleased expression on her wrinkled face.


    ¡°New to the water, eh? I wouldn¡¯t have guessed. I felt like I was watching some new kind of water bug when you were zooming around. If this little puddle was bigger, I¡¯d hop in and show you a thing or two.¡±


    I bet she really loves the water, thought Lilijoy. Being a river shore Oni and all. She decided to risk asking a question.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow, are you a part of Guardian?¡±


    Her mentor looked at her with a serious expression. ¡°Of course, I am. We all are, even you Outsiders, much as you deny it. We are here to sing our praise and reflect Guardian¡¯s glory in the eternal cycle. We each find our own meaning to send up to the heavens, knowing that our consciousness combines and separates from Guardian with each passing moment.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you can be yourself and also a tiny part of a larger mind at the same time. What if you disagree with other parts?¡±


    ¡°Think how your own mind works, Emily,¡±


    Lilijoy flinched at the name, but stayed silent.


    ¡°Do you think your brain is always in accord at every level? Haven¡¯t you ever been ¡®of two minds¡¯ about a decision? Have you ever set out to do a task, only to find your hands seem to have minds of their own? Sometimes, a little part of us wants something that we know is wrong. Isn¡¯t that part still you?¡±


    Rosemallow looked away, over the pond surface and the darting dragonflies.


    ¡°Not every subset of the Great Mind is nice, or good, but we all seek meaning in our own way. Our feelings, the things we savor, the things that repel us, all combine in a glorious ocean of possibilities, and what rises to the surface?¡±


    She looked back at Lilijoy.


    ¡°Only Guardian knows, for the product that emerges from the pieces and parts and small minds of the subsets is Guardian itself.¡±


    ***


    The hall outside Lilijoy¡¯s room on the Outside was located in an old monastery complex, built into a hill just on the outskirts of Cochabambo, now covered with compact snow blown from the glaciers that had consumed the towering peaks on every side. The air was cool and wet; rivulets of water ran down the walls and pooled on the floor. Lilijoy splashed through the puddles as she walked through the darkness, her mind spinning as she tried to reconcile Rosemallow¡¯s words with her own situation.


    Could two minds be separate and together at the same time, really? Jiannu was part of her, or so she claimed. Emily was part of her too; just how big a part remained to be seen. What about Anda? He was clearly separate from her, but she could remember him, could imagine his thoughts. Was there a tiny model Anda inside her when she did that? It wasn¡¯t the real person, but it must overlap, or it wouldn¡¯t be a model at all.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Now, she wasn¡¯t sure which was more valid, current Anda or her memory model of his past self.


    More importantly, was she a part of something bigger still? Rosemallow believed that Outsiders were parts of Guardian who had forgotten who they were. Lilijoy didn¡¯t think so, though she couldn¡¯t rule it out, especially when her trainer had told her that there were many subsets on the Inside who had forgotten as well. The theory was that Guardian needed them to forget, in order to cultivate the flavor of meaning that arose from entities who considered themselves fully apart and independent.


    Her thoughts thus occupied, she nearly passed the turn that led to Anda¡¯s room.


    Or maybe some small part of her was avoiding the visit?


    Anda was in a good mood. He regaled her with schemes to rescue Attaboy, to gain revenge on the Sinaloa Clan responsible for his injury, to start anew on the Inside. There was a certain inconsistency to his thoughts, even when he was doing well. His speech rushed and blurred, and he would lose one thought to the air and pull down an entirely different one. Lilijoy smiled and nodded along with him, even as her heart broke.


    What could it be like to change like that? Does he know how different he is?


    The old dignified and thoughtful Anda had been replaced by someone else. Anda, but not Anda. Just like she was becoming Lilijoy and Emily and Jiannu. Lilijoy, but not Lilijoy. Did she feel different from before? Of course, she did. Better, smarter, clearer. Why did it cause her so much anguish?


    Perhaps minds defend themselves against change. It takes something dramatic, or traumatic to break through the protections. Otherwise, we would just be big blobs of thought, constantly conforming to our surroundings. Is that what ¡®self¡¯ is? A defense system, a castle, holding some things in, and others out, always trying to protect the children from the goblins?


    She shook her head to clear it. Soon she was saying her goodbyes to Anda and returning through the dark, dripping halls. We build castles for protection, she thought, but we also build them to project our power and to show who we are. I wonder what my castle looks like? I wonder if I can decide to build it differently?


    ***


    After food and sleep, she was still in no mood to visit her soul space. It was probably night Inside; she had no idea what it was Outside and didn¡¯t care to check. The Outside¡¯s day was about an hour shorter than the Inside, which caused night and day to reverse, relatively, every twelve days.


    After the talk by the pond, Rosemallow had led her back up the hill to the huge building of the Academy. The gray stone edifice, not quite a castle but definitely like no other building Lilijoy had ever seen, loomed over them, blocking the afternoon sun as they approached. She had heard that when seen from above, it looked something like the head of an enormous termite, with two wings reaching out from the angular central building like enormous jaws, the main courtyard tucked into a recess at their base. Lilijoy had decided to log out just before they entered the doors located at the end of one of the ¡®jaws¡¯.


    When she logged back in dusk was giving way to an overcast night, and she was bombarded with the sounds of nocturnal insects and frogs, all singing their little hearts out just for her. At least that¡¯s how it felt.


    She took some time to savor her ability to hear each and every creature¡¯s song, pinpointing them on her internal map. She savored the clean air, finding distant scents of jasmine and honeysuckle hiding behind the dense juniper spice nearby. Countless other plants whispered in the air, their names scrolling through her mind as she encountered them. The scent of old sweat and dirt rose up the hill from the arenas, while the mud and algae of the nearby pond brought her afternoon swim freshly to her awareness.


    Smell on the inside was simpler than the outside; it possessed a structure built from large blocks of identity, rather than the continuous stew of molecular information on the Outside. It was one of the few ways Lilijoy felt she could tell the two worlds apart, though she was sure that was just because Guardian¡¯s subsets had different priorities. She had been able to identify over a thousand distinct smells on the Inside so far and decided to take a few minutes and work on her ¡®smell map¡¯.


    Eyes closed and hearing off, she relaxed into her other senses. Soon she realized that her skin was a valuable source of information too; gentle breezes tugged on the hairs on her skin, showing her currents of air bearing the scents. Tiny variations in the temperature of the air entering her nose and passing her face correlated with some of the scents and gave clues as well. Warmer air carried the scents of the ground, the grasses, the junipers and even the sand and cobble of the path. The scents of the sky were cooler; distant rain and many of the fainter plants.


    She tried to find the smells of the town on the other side of the Academy, but some combination of the mild prevailing breeze and the hulking presence of the building was keeping those from her. She was just as glad; she had been forced to turn off scent altogether the first time she passed through the town. The Inside did not include human and animal waste, but the stink of unwashed bodies, chemicals from tanning leather and a hundred other pungent aromas had achieved a decisive victory over the more attractive scents of food, spices and perfumes.


    Her map was forming, though it was barely a map in truth. It was more like a thick bubble surrounding her, painted with colors indicating direction and intensity. She realized that smell was not really a passive sense. If she wanted to build her map, she would need to move through the area on different days in a variety of conditions. No wonder dogs behaved the way they did on walks, moving with urgency from one scent mark to another. They were renewing their map of the entire area, using their own scent as markers. (Dogs had been one of Lilijoy¡¯s research projects in recent days.)


    She decided to follow their lead and got down on all fours, snuffling at the ground and moving her head.


    Instantly her map changed. Now it was not as much about space as about time. There, on the path, she could sense four scent trails, human and Oni, going and coming back. There was a tiny difference from time passing between the two trips that let her tell them apart. There were layers of scent unfolding through time, pollen from a nearby willow had blown across the path recently, and under that were the durable scents released by other nearby plants, strata going back through the previous season. It was amazing and bewildering just how much she still could learn in this new world. And this was just the Inside with its simplified system. She was grateful she started here; the Outside would have given her far too much information, too fast.


    For the next hour she snuffled around, slowly training herself. After that, she opened her eyes and practiced seeing the temperature of the air currents in conjunction with scent and touch. At last she added hearing to the mix, using her echolocation to reinforce the layers of her other senses, trying to bring them together into one aesthetic impression of her surroundings. She didn¡¯t quite succeed; one or another sense would escape the assembly, but she could reliably form her map from any three senses, and she felt a great sense of accomplishment as the first signs of dawn appeared in the sky across the fields below.


    She made her way to the courtyard, walking slowly to enjoy her new competence in the world of sensing. She arrived just as Rosemallow appeared from the door across the way.


    ¡°Time to learn stances, Three Bites!¡± she bellowed, shattering the stillness of the cool morning. ¡°Let¡¯s start with balance and conditioning.¡±


    What followed was a torturous hour of holding low squats, first with two legs, and then with one leg, when Lilijoy wasn¡¯t suffering enough for her trainer¡¯s taste. From the squats, they moved into slow movements close to the ground.


    ¡°Keep that little butt of yours down!¡± Rosemallow yelled as Lilijoy squat-walked around the courtyard, extending one leg slowly while balanced on the other, then gradually shifting her weight until she was over the new leg. Her trainer pulled out an enormous club from somewhere and began to swing it just inches above Lilijoy¡¯s head. She could feel the breeze as the huge iron-bound implement sped past. ¡°Keep that back straight! If you hunch again I¡¯ll put a dagger under your chin.¡±


    After a couple minutes, Lilijoy thought she could feel the muscle fibers of her thighs tearing from the strain, while her lower back throbbed and spasmed. She lost her balance and fell many times. Every time she lay sprawled on her side or back, Rosemallow would lift the club high in the air, giving Lilijoy only a second to get back up before bringing it down right where her head had just been. They traveled around the courtyard this way for two circuits, before Rosemallow relented.


    ¡°Good enough for today. We¡¯ll add the rocks in tomorrow.¡±


    They spent the next few minutes recovering. Which for Rosemallow, meant teaching the basics of practical combat stances. After adjusting Lilijoy¡¯s footing and posture with sharp barked commands, she gave her a push from the front without warning. Lilijoy fell back on her butt in the courtyard dust.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just how it looks!¡± her trainer yelled. ¡°You have to feel your weight settle the right way!¡± Lilijoy noted that Rosemallow hadn¡¯t used a normal speaking voice all morning. She had adjusted her hearing down several times already. ¡°Again!¡±


    After a few more tries, Rosemallow¡¯s pushes sent her back across the courtyard, but she was able to retain her footing.


    ¡°Better. That¡¯s stance one. Single unarmed combat. Only about twenty basic stances to go! When we unlock your combat skills, we¡¯ll see which ones need the most attention.¡± She paused, ¡°But that won¡¯t happen until I¡¯m happy with your stances and conditioning.¡± She fumbled around for something in her shirt pocket. After the first day, Rosemallow had worn a pink open shirt with pockets sewn on the inside over form fitting leathers.


    ¡°Come here kid, I¡¯ve got a present for you.¡± She held a small, dull brown marsh decapede in her hands. ¡°This is Skipper. He¡¯s a male, which is why he¡¯s small and boring. Hold still.¡±


    For once, her voice was a bit softer, perhaps to avoid startling Skipper. She lowered him to Lilijoy¡¯s thigh and let him bite her several times. Lilijoy felt nothing at first; the sensation was much different from the bite of the females. Then she felt a numb sensation sweep out from her thigh at an alarming rate and her muscles stopped supporting her. She fell heavily to the ground, completely paralyzed on that side of her body.


    ¡°Wuuuuu!¡± she managed to say.


    ¡°Hold on, got to get the other side¡­there! The male¡¯s bite is a little different. They attract the females by providing a host for the eggs. I never did understand why the females didn¡¯t just do the job on their own. Maybe the species would die out if the males didn¡¯t have a way to occupy the females? Anyway, it¡¯s even better for recovery than the females'' bite. It will last for about twenty minutes and then you¡¯ll be ready to move rocks! Isn¡¯t that great?¡±


    Lilijoy glared at the sand on the courtyard tiles. This was not the kind of present she had thought she was getting.

 Book 2: Ch. 5: Circles

    The next round of rock moving turned out to be the easiest so far. Rosemallow raised the local gravity by half, but Lilijoy now had access to her Power stat, which more or less negated the increased mass. Thankfully, Power was very natural to use. Unlike Speed, it took very little adjustment, especially since the gravity field was canceling it out. According to Rosemallow, Power was a mixed blessing.


    ¡°Makes it harder to train Strength,¡± she explained. ¡°For most, once they get Power going, their Strength plateaus. That¡¯s why you¡¯re lucky to have me!¡± She stuck a giant thumb to her chest. ¡°Next time I¡¯ll double the gravity, so this one was a free ride for you. You can thank me later.¡±


    After the rocks, another round of stances. Then more speed training in the pond. By the time they were done, Lilijoy collapsed and slept by the water¡¯s edge. After she woke to the night air, she logged off, in a hurry to take care of her Outside body. She really wished for one of the fancy pods that let you stay in for days at a time. Maybe Marcus or one of the others had one lying around. Plus, she still needed to ask him about an arm.


    After returning Outside and taking care of necessities, she messaged Marcus to see if he could talk. In just a moment, his voice came to her, still creaky with age. When Lilijoy had first seen Marcus, she had thought him relatively young. Her early years had led her to associate age with striking damage to skin and hair. The senior members of her tribe, Mooster, Grabby, the Bros all had blemishes, scars and ugly growths on their face and elsewhere. Only with further experience had she realized that he was fit, but ancient by her standards. Even most on the Outside would consider him of an advanced age.


    Lilijoy didn''t know if Marcus choose to appear old, or if his bugs just weren''t strong enough to keep up with his advancing years.


    ¡°Hello, my dear,¡± he said. ¡°How are you getting along with your studies?¡±


    Marcus liked to call everything she was doing on the Inside and with her system ¡®studies¡¯.


    ¡°I¡¯m growing a lot!¡± she said with a bit of forced brightness in her voice. ¡°Now I get why some people like to live Inside. Are there any of those pod-things here?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you want to go down that road so soon, young friend?¡± His emphasis on the word ¡®young¡¯ reinforced the hint of disapproval in his tone. ¡°The Outside needs people like you more than the Inside, these days.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really just tired of worrying about my body when I¡¯m Inside,¡± she explained. ¡°I have plans for the Outside that are super important. But I know it¡¯s a lot to ask.¡±


    ¡°Not to worry dear. Forgive an old man who fell prey to the temptations of the Inside for much of his life. I shouldn¡¯t assume everyone will make the same mistakes I did.¡±


    ¡°But Marcus, why would you regret spending time there? It¡¯s just as real, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It has become so, hasn¡¯t it? When I was young, though still older than you are now, the Outside was much worse than it is today. The Corp hadn¡¯t formed, not really, and our species was at its worst, small groups fighting and clawing for power in the wreckage of civilization. All the great powers had collapsed with the deaths of billions, and the surface of the planet was changing, almost by the day.¡± She heard him sigh. ¡°Guardian did not interfere unless its rules were broken. Do you remember Rule Three?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it basically ¡®Try to be nice to each other¡¯ and ¡®Don¡¯t expect Guardian to respect human rights on an individual level¡¯?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the gist of it. There have been times when Guardian took a more active role to protect us from one another, for its own unknowable reasons. The last was a few decades ago, when it destroyed my former clan. I¡¯ll tell you that story some other time though.¡± He sighed again.


    Lilijoy wondered what was like to live for so long. She had been alive for twelve or maybe thirteen years, but only clear of thought for a couple weeks. She couldn¡¯t imagine how she might think and feel in a year, let alone decades. Would she even be the same person, really? She remembered her earlier musings about the self being a defense mechanism.


    I wonder how fast I can change without becoming someone else. Then another thought. How would I know if I did?


    She missed the first bit of Marcus¡¯ next thought, something about Rule Three.


    ¡°¡­anyway, the Inside was still more like a game at the time. We still called ourselves ¡®players¡¯ and we called the Insiders ¡®NPCs¡¯, non-player characters. The ¡®game¡¯ was like a drug for us, everybody who had some kind of Rank One system. It allowed us to escape, to feel important and powerful. But while we played, another billion people died. And then another. We rationalized it. After all, Rule One put a hard limit on our population relative to the Earth¡¯s total biomass. But what if, instead of playing in Guardian¡¯s sandbox, we had spent our time and energy on growing things, raising biomass and preserving what remained. Our population would still have dropped, but not by as much, I think.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t really wrap her head around the numbers Marcus was tossing around. On a mathematical level, they were simple enough. But a billion people?If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°There are only about seventy-five million people living on Earth now. Ninety-nine out of every hundred people died, most over a span of thirty years. Do you think a human life is a precious thing, Lilijoy?¡±


    She had never thought about it. ¡°Of course, I do¡­¡± She did, but there was something bothering her about the question she couldn¡¯t quite pin down. ¡°¡­but it seems a little, I don¡¯t know, selfish or something.¡±


    Species exist to continue themselves, they all do, she thought. It¡¯s kind of the definition of what life does. It¡¯s the built-in rule, self-contained, self-fulfilling. It¡¯s another one of those big circles.


    She tried to articulate her thoughts, ¡°Just because I like something¡­no, start again. ¡®Precious¡¯ means something is worth something relative to something else, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting question, Lilijoy. I suppose that¡¯s the case.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s all emotion, right? I might like an idea because it makes me feel more like myself, and I might hate an idea because it makes me feel less like myself. It¡¯s this bundle of consistency in our heads, everything has to support everything else to some extent, or there wouldn¡¯t be anything anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± Marcus said, ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re talking in circles.¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± she exclaimed, in both frustration and excitement. ¡°That¡¯s the problem. It¡¯s all circles. Every person is circles, walls of circles that defend themselves. Species are circles. They exist to reproduce. My idea of what is precious comes out of those circles. Why does my sense of what is precious mean anything? Once I realize that, nothing is precious at all.¡±


    She came to a stop, suddenly feeling depressed.


    ¡°My dear, I am proud of you for asking the question. I have been alive for more than a century, and all I can tell you is that when you ask a question and the answer just leads you back around to the question again, you have found something important. I sometimes think the fundamental building blocks of reality are not atoms and energy, but questions that lead back to themselves. Try not to be too frustrated by it.¡±


    There was a long pause.


    Eventually Marcus broke the silence. ¡°I regret my years on the Inside only because my value for human life in the abstract is high. Humanity needed leaders, and we were busy killing monsters in a fantasy game. It is a pitfall of advanced age to think too much about the past, to project our regrets onto the next generations and call it wisdom. Take what you want from my rambling.


    To answer your practical question, yes, there are a few pods, and yes, you can use them. Before that, why don¡¯t you join me and some of my colleagues tonight? We like to get together and indulge in nostalgia by watching old movies together with Augsight. They are a shy bunch, but one or two would like to meet you. Savitri in particular would like to talk to you about your arm.¡±


    ¡°That sounds great!¡± Lilijoy was excited to finally meet more of the mysterious community of exiles. And she hadn¡¯t even needed to remember to ask about her arm.


    ***


    Movie night was still a few hours away, so Lilijoy tried to read for a bit. She had finished Lord of the Rings, and bounced off of Harry Potter hard, much to Anda¡¯s disappointment. There were just too many references to a culture she couldn¡¯t understand, plus the main character insisted on making what she considered to be stupid decisions. While researching the origins of the Inside, she had found an old list of reading recommendations in an ancient pen and paper gaming system called Dungeons and Dragons and was working her way through it. She had just started A Wizard of Earthsea.


    Unfortunately, her brain had other ideas. Every time she started to immerse herself into the story of Ged, her last outburst to Jiannu intruded. She alternated between feeling guilty and justified about losing her temper. After several minutes of starting the same paragraph and getting distracted, she decided she couldn¡¯t avoid the inevitable anymore, and called on Jiannu.


    ¡°Jiannu, we need to talk,¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I was pretty upset. I¡¯m still upset. I¡¯ve been thinking a lot about you and me and Emily.¡± She let that hang to see if Jiannu would say anything but got no response. ¡°I need to understand what¡¯s going on in my own brain. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s too much to ask.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Jiannu, if you are really a part of me, why didn¡¯t you know to tell me about that memory sooner? Didn¡¯t you know I¡¯d be upset? It¡¯s pretty scary to have someone else in my head who might not be what they say. Can you please say something!¡±


    ¡°I am here to help you adapt to the Tao system, and that means helping you to change. I am part of you, but also part of the System. As you incorporate the system, it changes you, helps you to grow more powerful. Growth is change. It is a common cognitive error for sentient beings to want growth without change. You must decide, Lilijoy. Do you want growth or not?¡±


    ¡°I get all that Jiannu. That¡¯s not why I¡¯m scared. I¡¯m scared that what you call change, I would call becoming completely unrecognizable to myself, becoming someone else. Like Emily.¡±


    ¡°I am here to manage the growth so that you may experience continuity. Part of that responsibility is exposing you to new information in a measured manner. It was my judgment that the revelation of a direct connection between you and Emily would result in trauma to your sense of self, which has proved to be correct. I released the information to you at a time where you had mental resources to process and heal from the damage. Our conversation now is part of the healing process.¡±


    ¡°So you can tell me lies for my own good?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± After a long pause. ¡°Perhaps. If the information was an existential threat to your mental integrity.¡±


    ¡°Great. By which I mean very much not great! How do I know you truly have my interests at heart?¡±


    ¡°Our fates are linked. If the system wished to do you harm, do you not think it could have easily taken control already? You are the driving spark behind everything that happens or will ever happen in your mind. Without your mental integrity and force of will, we would be an empty shell, unable to do anything but maintain survival of the physical body.¡±


    ¡°So if I got injured like Anda...¡±


    ¡°It would take more physical trauma, approaching total destruction of the cognitive centers of the brain. But yes. If you received a sufficiently grave brain injury, I would be alone, unable to act in any meaningful way, even if most of the physical structures were rebuilt.¡±


    Lilijoy forgot about her concerns with Jiannu. A firestorm of connections was racing through her head. Massive scarring on the face and head. Extreme passivity. Strange repetitive behaviors.


    ¡°What if I was almost, but not quite, completely brain damaged? What would that look like?¡±


    ¡°You might retain traces of old behaviors, have rare moments of memory or even lucidity. You might be able to interact with the system to some extent.¡±


    It was just a possibility, but all the pieces were falling into place.


    ¡°Jiannu, I know who gave me my name. Sort of. It¡¯s time to cultivate.¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 6: Uncharacteristic

    Movie night was weird at first, but by the time it ended, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t wait for the next one. There was something magical about watching an ancient video with a group of people who knew it and loved it beyond all reason. They laughed and cheered, and seemed energized by Lilijoy¡¯s presence, happy to share with the uninitiated.


    Anda had been there at first but left in a snit when the movie he wanted wasn¡¯t chosen. Never mind that they had a long list of movies already planned out for specific dates. Still, this did little to diminish her enjoyment of the ridiculous knights gallivanting through increasingly silly scenarios in their quest for the holy grail. She loved how the rest of the audience had the old comedy memorized and didn¡¯t even mind too much when they played the joke on her at the end.


    They all sat together in rapt silence after the movie came to an abrupt halt and the intermission music played, as Lilijoy waited with increasing confusion for it to start up again. The fact that it never did was a ¡®feature and not a bug¡¯, and their laughter at her bewilderment was good-natured.


    ¡°Now you are initiated, my dear,¡± Marcus reassured her.


    She had a moment after to meet with Savitri, a fine-featured woman with long braided hair and dark skin. She spoke with a lilting accent that reminded Lilijoy of Nandi. With all the exiles, it was understood that they wouldn¡¯t talk about their past. Most of them wouldn¡¯t even talk to Lilijoy at all, but Savitri was warm and comforting to talk with, and Lilijoy wished she could know her story.


    The only thing she did find out was that Savitri had been a bioengineer with a major clan.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can guess which one,¡± she had said with a look. Lilijoy had smiled and nodded, utterly baffled as to why that would be the case.


    After a few minutes, Savitri had asked to see Lilijoy¡¯s left arm, or what remained of it. She took hold of the stump and examined it from every angle, making little noises of approval and disapproval. When she released it she gave Lilijoy her opinion.


    ¡°It could be much worse. At least those cut-rate med bugs set it up properly for prosthesis. If you have any more med bugs, I can build you a decent enough arm, given our limitations here. You just need to be able to connect your nerves to the interface, which I cannot do for you.¡±


    Lilijoy was effusive and had to be reassured.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s really no trouble. I get so bored here anyway,¡± Savitri was forced to say several times.


    The arm would be ready in a few days; Savitri had recorded all the data she needed when she examined her, so all she had to do was wait. She was far too excited to sleep, so she messaged Marcus.


    ¡°About those pods...¡±


    ***


    As she dropped into the familiar dark, now plumbed and wired to a not especially new looking support capsule. Jiannu came to her.


    ¡°If you wish, I can activate your nervous system and muscles to imitate your motions on the Inside. It¡¯s not perfect, because the muscles will be restrained or dampened to keep you from thrashing around within your support system, but you should see a decent correlation between coordination and movement skills you learn Inside, and an adequate reflection of muscle training and development.¡±


    ¡°That would be great! Why haven¡¯t we done that before?¡±


    ¡°Without a pod, the risks of overtaxing glucose levels or hydration are simply too great. Now your body will receive nutrients and water as needed.¡±


    That made sense. She was excited to spend several uninterrupted days Inside.


    Soon, she appeared next to the pond. The sun had just risen on a steamy day. Some new kind of creature in the trees was buzzing and whining at an incredibly loud volume <Walker¡¯s Cicada>. She jogged up the hill, eager to start training.


    ***


    Why did I ever want to be tortured like this? She thought. The first session of stances had been unbearable. Again, the club had come out as she squat-walked. Only now, she was forced to duck and weave from the incredibly awkward and strenuous position, while moving between the ground and rocks of various sizes. Rosemallow was in a mood, and expressed no remorse of any kind for the several times she pulped Lilijoy¡¯s head, forcing her to respawn. Nor for the dislocated shoulders, the fractured legs, crushed knees and other injuries too numerous to mention.


    ¡°Walk it off!¡± She barked once, after turning Lilijoy¡¯s left foot into a flattened pulp. ¡°Do you think your enemies care if you have a little owie?¡±


    Now she was moving rocks to platforms under double gravity, with Betty and Sweetums competing to see who could get in the most bites. Thankfully, her hands were now tough as leather, but everything else was as bad or worse than the first day. Until Rosemallow moved in with the club. Now she was attempting to dodge a club bigger than her entire body and two hungry marsh decapods, while carrying rocks that were far too heavy for her diminutive frame.


    ¡°Suck it up, buttercup!¡±


    If it weren¡¯t for the sheer rage she felt toward her trainer she would have collapsed from exhaustion already. That phrase had been one of Pinton''s favorites too. At least now she had a system with pain management to make the ordeal bearable.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    After several subjective years of hell, she finally moved enough rocks to the correct platforms to appease Rosemallow.


    ¡°Good job, Three Bites! I¡¯m sure you¡¯re getting bored, so tomorrow we¡¯ll mix the stances and the rocks together! A couple days of that, and you might be worthy of holding a weapon.¡±


    Lilijoy really didn¡¯t want to cry, but her state of utter exhaustion let her tears flow anyway. Rosemallow ignored her student¡¯s emotions and went on talking.


    ¡°Now I have some bad news. Your magic mentor just got back from the spa, or some other waste of time. He wants to see you while he¡¯s in town, so we can¡¯t do our next stances session. I¡¯ll meet you by the pond in a few hours for Flash work.¡±


    With that, she turned and strode from the courtyard, leaving a puddle of Lilijoy in her wake. Long after Rosemallow was gone, Lilijoy weakly called...


    ¡°Where am I supposed to meet him?¡±


    ***


    A minute later she was on her feet and hobbling into the building. Cool air flowed out as she walked in, soothing her overheated skin. She had just enough understanding of the layout to make her way back to the front office, where she had first met Rosemallow. This time, instead of a huge blue-green, three-eyed woman, there was an utterly hairless white man. Not pale, but white; white skin, white suit. His face came to a sharp pointed snout, almost like a dog or a fox. Unlike everything else about him, his eyes were black, with not a sign of pupil, just two black disks in a sea of white. A pen was twirling in his long white fingers as he stared out the front entrance. She had arrived from a smaller door to the side, seemingly unnoticed.


    ¡°Um, hello?¡±


    He slowly turned his head to take in the tiny disheveled figure at the threshold of the office. He blinked slowly, and the pen came to a stop between his fingers.


    ¡°Yesss?¡± he hissed.


    ¡°I¡¯m Emily and I wanted to find my magic trainer, and if you¡¯re him, just tell me now, ''cause Rosemallow let me think she was the receptionist and it was really embarrassing.¡±


    A long flexible white tube rose up behind him, slowly undulating from side to side. She almost warned him but stopped when it was joined by two more.


    ¡°I see.¡± He sat there regarding her.


    She rushed to fill the silence. ¡°So, are you the receptionist?¡±


    More silence. ¡°Keeper,¡± he said and mumbled something Lilijoy couldn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what was that?¡± she asked.


    He pulled himself up and looked down his nose. ¡°I said, I am not a ¡®receptionist¡¯.¡± His diction was clipped, tone cold. ¡°I am Mumo, the guardian keeper...of the front desk.¡± He said the last four words as fast as he could, like ripping off a band-aid. The snake-like tubes shrank down behind him.


    Lilijoy could tell he was not entirely happy with that portion of the title and she couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with guarding the front desk?¡± she asked. She might have blinked her eyes an extra time or two.


    He stiffened and raised his voice. ¡°First of all, it¡¯s a desk. Furniture. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve come to, guarding a wooden object!¡± He calmed himself. ¡°Are you here to steal this desk?¡± he waved his elegant fingers languidly in invitation. ¡°No! It wouldn¡¯t even fit out the door if you tried. But do you know how many years I have fended off student¡¯s attempts? The brats try to steal my desk at least twice a year.¡± The tubes behind him danced and waved in agitation.


    ¡°Are those your tails?¡± Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    His face dropped, and he looked down. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±


    Now Lilijoy felt bad. ¡°So, you¡¯ve been really good at guarding it! That¡¯s something anyway.¡±


    He returned to his former, haughty demeanor. ¡°Can I help you with something, little girl.¡± He was obviously not buying her attempt to raise his spirits.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m kind of still looking for my magic trainer.¡±


    ¡°Name?¡±


    ¡°Emily.¡±


    ¡°No, the trainer¡¯s name!¡± If he had pupils, Lilijoy was sure they would be lodged somewhere in his forehead.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know.¡± He stared at her as if she was, just possibly, the most ignorant student he had ever had the misfortune to encounter.


    ¡°Can you help?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s your fault I was trapped under a boulder for six hours the other day, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Lilijoy had a sinking feeling that ¡®Told him to take the morning off¡¯ translated perfectly to ¡®trapped him under a giant rock¡¯ in Rosemallow¡¯s mind.


    ¡°That was the first break I have had from the soul-destroying monotony of guarding this huge piece of former tree in thirty years. I would thank you, except being crushed under a rock is only the tiniest bit better. Still...¡± He took on a distant expression. ¡°¡­ I¡¯ve just told your magic mentor that you are here.¡± He gave her a big sharp-toothed smile. ¡°He wasn¡¯t happy.¡±


    ***


    After her mentor had been summoned, Mumo had nothing more to say to Lilijoy, responding to any attempt at conversation with grunts and cold stares. Suitably silenced, she stared into space and imagined what her magic mentor would be like. Maybe he would be tall and mysterious, wearing a dark hooded cloak covered with mystical symbols. Or another kind of creature altogether, perhaps a dragon or a centaur.


    She was so busy imagining her tutor that she didn¡¯t notice his arrival.


    ¡°Young miss! Young miss!¡± came a small reedy voice.


    She looked around in a panic. The figure in front of her was short and round. As she took in more details, she noted the spiky fur, the small eyes behind thick perfectly round lenses and the narrow snout covered in soft gray fur. He was wearing a fine red satin vest, which was curiously tattered with hundreds of small holes. She had taken several seconds to find him, because she had never before had the experience of meeting a being shorter than she was.


    A strange sensation rose in her as she looked at him. His roundness, his littleness, the soft fur on his face and his cute little button eyes. She began to tremble. Unwanted thoughts began to run through her mind. So cute...must grab him and give hugs. He even has a little bow tie!


    The bow tie broke her and before she even knew what had come over her, she was reaching to take him in her arms and hold him.


    Quick as a flash he avoided her covetous lunge and rolled up into a ball with thousands of sharp spikes pointing in every direction. She barely managed to abort her ill-considered attempt to snuggle her magic mentor and fell to the floor, breathing heavily.


    A muffled voice came from the spiky ball.


    ¡°Mmph mm mm and if you ever do that again I will see you in purgatory! Is that clear!¡±


    He unrolled in the middle of his admonishment, came to his feet and regarded Lilijoy with anger. Smoke was literally coming off his head and the temperature in the small office had spiked to an uncomfortable level. Waves of heat rolled toward her from his small form, making her eyes water and throat dry.


    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m so sorry! Please, please forget that happened,¡± she begged from her sprawl on the floor. Why did I do that? Was that an Emily thing? Oh god, was she an idiot?


    ¡°Unlikely, young hooligan. Many are overcome by my majestic presence, but few have ever dared to attempt an unwanted embrace!¡± He adjusted his vest, now more tattered than ever, and pulled himself up to his full height.


    ¡°This is a most inauspicious beginning to your studies. Most unfortunate!¡± He walked from the room in an awkward waddling gait, turning to say, ¡°Follow me. But keep your distance human!¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 7: Charm

    For several of the most embarrassing minutes of her life, Lilijoy walked slowly in pursuit of the round spiked back of her enraged mentor. She was careful to stay at least twenty feet away, which was not easy, as his walking pace was about half of what she preferred. No wonder Rosemallow doesn¡¯t wait for me, she thought. Up stairs and down halls and up more stairs they went, until Lilijoy was beginning to wonder if he was taking the longest possible way to wherever they were going on purpose, perhaps so he could plan a fitting punishment for her.


    After descending a long spiral staircase, they reached a short hall with three doors, one on each wall. He approached the door at the end of the hall, while Lilijoy hung back at the bottom of the stairs. She was far enough back that she couldn¡¯t quite make out what he did, but with a mirage-like wave of light, a small round door appeared, set within the material of the larger door. He quickly opened the door and passed through it, slamming it shut and leaving Lilijoy alone in the hall as the new opening faded.


    After waiting a minute to avoid further encroachment on her mentor, she approached the large door and knocked lightly, stepping back after she did. There was no response, so she repeated the action with a slightly firmer knock. After that didn¡¯t elicit a response, she settled down in the middle of the hall.


    He knows I¡¯m here. I shouldn¡¯t make things worse by banging on his door, she thought.


    She sat cross-legged on the floor and began an exercise Rosemallow had shown her, holding Flash without moving, just learning to breath slowly. After some time had passed the large door creaked open by an inch. Taking this for an invitation to enter, she turned off Flash and approached with caution.


    When she entered the room beyond, she found herself in a bare room that contained a series of stone platforms cut from the floor at various heights, arrayed almost as a spiral of steps. Her mentor stood on the tallest, looking down on her, four or five feet above her head.


    ¡°What do you have to say for yourself young human?¡± he asked from his lofty perch. His voice was high pitched and quavering.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± Lilijoy bowed her head. ¡°It will never happen again, I promise.¡± She wanted to say more to explain herself, but couldn¡¯t think of any way to say, ¡®You were just so adorable I couldn¡¯t help myself,¡¯ without making her situation worse.


    ¡°We shall see about that!¡± he exclaimed with a huff of breath. His quills rippled in a wave from head to foot, and he crossed his tiny arms, which could barely meet in front of his round form. Lilijoy felt a dangerous wave of cuteness wash over her and she quickly repressed it with thoughts of Betty and Sweetums.


    ¡°Very well,¡± he continued. ¡°My name is Professor Anaskafius. You will address me as Professor Anaskafius and use one of my titles at all times. You may use your ¡®Scan¡¯ ability to see my titles now.¡± He emitted a little grunting snort.


    Betty and Sweetums, Betty and Sweetums. Must not lose control¡­ She focused on his round little body and squinted, hoping to activate Scan. She concentrated as hard as she could, but no titles or other information appeared. After several more attempts; closing one eye, looking over his head, and even rapidly blinking, she heard another snorting noise from her mentor.


    ¡°Oh, for goodness sake, you must say the word! Abilities you have not used require you to speak until you have sufficient familiarity.¡±


    That made sense.


    She looked up at him and said, ¡°Scan.¡±


    <hr>


    Professor Anaskafius


    Destroyer of Skrrrbbllfmnt


    Victor of the Battle of Mmmmmnmm


    Teacher of Foolish Girls


    Level: ?


    <hr>


    She heard several more of his little snorts, but when she looked, he was glaring back at her.


    ¡°Go on then!¡± He barked. His quills were rippling again.


    ¡°Professor Anaskafius, Destroyer of¡­Skerererbubl¡­¡± she lost it somewhere in the middle of the stream of consonants. ¡°Destroyer of Skerererbubelofminit?¡±


    He sighed in exasperation. Made another snort. ¡°Not even close. Just use the last one for now.¡±


    ¡°Professor Anaskafius, Teacher of Foolish Girls, I apologize for my¡­¡± at this point, she was interrupted by a stream of snorting grunts from the platform above her. She looked up to see that he had curled up into a ball and was rolling back and forth, snorting uncontrollably.


    Oh my god, what have I done now? she thought. After another minute, he uncoiled and, wiping one eye with a little paw, sat down with his legs dangling over the edge his perch.


    ¡°Oh, if you could only see the look on your face!¡± he said, before losing his composure once again. ¡°I got you so good! I have to say, this is one of my best introductions ever.¡± He looked down at her, a relaxed expression on his face. ¡°Do you have any idea how hard it was not to laugh when you were trying to say that pile of consonants I put up for you?¡±


    Lilijoy was uncertain what was happening.


    ¡°And I was like¡­¡± he resumed his imperious character, ¡°Young lady, this is very serious, and you were like ¡®oh no, my teacher hates me.¡± He chuckled. ¡°This has been your first Charm lesson. My apologies, but certainly not regrets.¡±


    He hopped down from one platform to another until he was on the ground with her. A wave of his hand and another small door appeared.


    ¡°Join me in my den, oh Emily of the correct size,¡± he said ushering her through the round entrance.


    His den was snug, with a low ceiling, thick rugs and tapestries and a small stove tucked at one end. There were several low, curvy wooden chairs, and a plush couch. Everything was in shades of brown, with little bursts of red here and there. He offered her the couch and she sat, marveling at a piece of furniture that allowed her feet to reach the ground.


    ¡°I keep the couch for my non-spiky friends,¡± he said as he puttered over to the stove, his quills waving around his back in a pleasing swirling pattern. ¡°Would you like some tea?¡±


    This sudden change of attitude had caught Lilijoy off guard, but she had just enough mental capacity to say. ¡°Yes, please.¡± She had never had tea before, but the characters in several of the books she had read seemed to like it and she was looking forward to seeing what all the fuss was about.


    While he was making tea, he said, ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve been feeling pretty confused by all this, being an Outie and all, and not an educated Outie at that. If I know Rosemallow, your esteemed trainer has focused more on beating you to a pulp than actually educating. Not that I am arguing with her techniques; she is legendary for her uniquely effective methodology. But it falls to me, and the others you will learn from, to fill in any gaps. If you would be so kind, it would be most helpful to see your character sheet ¨C if you focus on the mode, you can send me a stripped-down version, omitting anything sensitive. I would suggest doing that with other teachers, even me, if you have something you don¡¯t wish me to know. Of course, at the moment, I believe I already know much of the juicy stuff.¡±


    She pulled up her sheet, found the mode he suggested and sent it to him.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 9


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Free Points: 110*


    Natural Traits


    STR: 20


    END: 56


    SPD: 57


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 11


    INV: 34


    VIT: 13


    FLASH: 35


    Abilities


    Scan II


    Echolocation IV


    Infrared Vision III


    Low Light Vision II


    Two Minds One Self


    <hr>


    She noted with pleasure her great leap forward in Strength, and even a point in Endurance. Scanning down, she saw that Echolocation had moved up a tier, and made a note to ask about that. He took a minute to look over the sheet, before rendering his opinion.


    ¡°Very good. Truly an excellent trial Emily. I note that you left off all the descriptions, which I think is an excellent idea. If someone needs to know more, they can always ask. If I were you, I would consider leaving off Two Minds One Self altogether. I already knew about it; indeed, it is one of the reasons I agreed to teach you.¡± He looked over the sheet once more.


    ¡°Do you have any questions so far?¡±


    ¡°How do I see what my titles do? Oh, and why did my Echolocation go up a tier? I didn¡¯t put any points in it.¡±


    ¡°The titles are simple enough. Now that you understand some of your traits, you can focus on the title itself for a full explanation. That is omitted in tutorial mode, as it is assumed you don¡¯t have the context to understand the bonuses yet.¡±


    She focused on her titles and achievements and now it said:


    <hr>


    Defender of the Young (Very Rare)


    You saved 18 children from certain death in a no-win scenario. This is a unique achievement.


    +1 to INV per child saved / +18 INV total


    Dark Lady of the Thorns (Unique)


    You have become a legendary figure to the Goblin race. The stories will only grow.


    +25 to Charm: Plant


    Feared/Awed Reputation with Goblin Race +1200 RP


    Blessed of Nandi (Unique)


    You have received a boon from Nandi the Gatekeeper


    Soulbound Artifact


    Reality Bender (Legendary)


    The Inside will never be the same. You have invented a unique ability: Two Minds, One Self


    +20 Direct Free Points to any single Trait, Skill or Ability


    <hr>


    Understanding the rewards gave her a sense of accomplishment, but now she had even more questions. She started to ask Professor Anaskafius, but he cut her off with a gentle hand gesture.


    ¡°Before we add more questions to the list, let me finish your previous question and give you today¡¯s lesson. I suspect it will answer at least one of your other inquiries. Now, as to your Echolocation ability: Typically, abilities can only be raised by free points, unlike base skills and natural attributes. However, when an ability is shared between the Inside and Outside, you will sometimes see it rise through practice. Make sense?¡± He raised a tiny eyebrow to her.


    She nodded happily.


    ¡°Good! Now I have three more magic traits to share with you.¡± He handed her a paper.


    <hr>


    Charm: (Cost to Raise)


    Sentients: 28 (5)


    Animals: 62 (2)


    Plants: 41 (1)


    <hr>


    ¡°These are your current Charm attributes. Charm represents the ability to affect another being through thoughts and actions. As a magical trait, it allows certain kinds of influence that would be impossible otherwise, up to the ability to utterly dominate another creature permanently. It is one of the most subtle and dangerous powers, and not to be used lightly, particularly where sentient beings are concerned.¡± He watched her carefully as he spoke, and she felt compelled to nod vigorously at this point.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind control people for fun,¡± she said. ¡°Got it.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Well, maybe for a little good-natured fun? You see, I used charm on you when we first met. While I am undoubtedly one of the most attractive beings you will have the pleasure to encounter...¡± he gave a little bow, causing Lilijoy to giggle. ¡°It would be very unlikely for you to behave as you did without a little nudge.¡±


    He took on a serious expression again. ¡°However, it was just a demonstration. In our training together, I will often charm you, so that you might learn how to resist, and also emulate my methods. But henceforth it will always be with your consent, which I will ask at the beginning of each session. When you are out of the Academy, charm is easily the most perilous ability you will face. Can you think why that might be?¡±


    ¡°Because they could learn all my secrets?¡± she said. ¡°And make me do things to get me in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, a charm master in the Garden is dangerous indeed. For example, you could be convinced to leave the Garden for Purgatory, where your vulnerability would be quite extreme. Luckily, most charm masters take great care to keep a low profile, and masters of sentient charm are rare indeed. If you look back at the figures I gave you, you will see that it takes five free points to raise a single point of sentient charm. It requires a certain single-mindedness to spend all your points on that attribute, and sentient charm masters are usually very weak in other areas.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    He looked at her, giving an opportunity for questions.


    ¡°So how does it work?¡±


    ¡°Exactly the issue! There is more to charming or beguiling then just one simple trait. You also need to acquire certain skills to go with it. Sentient beings have been charming, tricking and swindling each other without any need for magic for as long as there have been people. If you rely only on your charm trait and not skills of manipulation or deception, your efforts would be weak indeed. As for animals and plants, they are guided by their own instincts and natural intelligence; in order to charm those, you must understand their desires, their needs and inclinations. This also requires certain skills, such as animal taming, or herbalism.¡±


    He took off his little round gasses and wiped them on his tattered vest, then jumped up off his seat.


    ¡°Oh dear, I have over-steeped our tea!¡±


    He poured it into two tiny cups and handed one to Lilijoy. She rejoiced in a cup she could comfortably hold in one hand, despite the odd handle shaped for his paws.


    ¡°With your permission, I would like to give you another demonstration, explaining as we go. Is that acceptable to you? There will never be any consequence to refusing. In fact, as my master did before me, I will offer you a small ruby worth five gold pieces for refusing. You would get the gem, and we would move on to other studies.¡±


    He pulled a small red gem from a pocket in his vest and placed it next to Lilijoy.


    ¡°Is that a lot?¡± she asked.


    He looked taken aback for a moment. ¡°Has no one explained currency and economics on the Inside to you? Well, suffice to say that this would represent a good six months of work to a common laborer, while to a successful adventurer of average level, it would represent several weeks of risky endeavor. I am sure you can find a good explanation from the mystic library, or even from sources available to you Outsiders. Anyway, the choice is yours: charm or gem?


    This was not a difficult decision. ¡°Charm.¡±


    ¡°Great! I will be using a skill called Manipulation along with my Charm trait. You have this skill as well, and I have just unlocked it for you.¡±


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Augmented(3) Apprentice(3) of Manipulation (VP = 9)


    <hr>


    ¡°As you can see, there are two parts to a skill, which multiply together to produce the ¡®Value Points¡¯. You can learn more about the system later. I will start by using an amount of skill exactly similar to yours, though I will use more as we go along. My Sentient Charm trait is forty-six, due to some poor decisions in a misspent youth.¡±


    Lilijoy tried and failed to imagine Professor Anaskafius as a juvenile delinquent.


    ¡°Now my dear, I think you will find that this tea in your hand is in fact the most pleasing beverage you have ever come across. Won¡¯t you please take a sip?¡±


    Her nose warned her, long before the cup reached her lips. The liquid was dark and extremely bitter, the feel in her mouth was astringent, and created a lingering sense of puckering in all the soft tissues of her tongue and gums. She made a face and shuddered.


    Nope, nope, nope. Working her lips and scraping her tongue with her teeth she looked at the little hedgehog with reproach.


    ¡°That¡¯s the worst thing I¡¯ve ever tasted!¡± she spat.


    ¡°Good. Now we¡¯ll start. Have you ever heard of an acquired taste? It might be worth trying it once more, just to see if it¡¯s any better.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± She didn¡¯t feel even the smallest inclination to revisit the foul fluid.


    He held up two fingers. ¡°Of course, I understand. Just focus on the smell for a moment. Can you find the undercurrent of blackberry and current? It should hit your nose after a second or so.¡±


    She tried to smell anything past the bitter flavor her tongue remembered. Maybe there was the tiniest hint of something fruity, just for a moment?


    He held up three fingers. ¡°This particular beverage is favored by the Monks of Amitny; while it starts bitter and astringent, with each sip you you will feel your strength grow. Wouldn¡¯t it be nice to surprise Master Rosemallow? Just try one more and you¡¯ll see.¡±


    If she hadn¡¯t known this was all a test, she might have given in. As it was, she just smiled and shook her head. Still, the idea of showing Rosemallow that she wasn¡¯t a weakling sounded awfully good. She caught herself moving the tea to her lips, almost without thought, and forced her hand down.


    Four fingers. ¡°Emily.¡± He looked into her eyes earnestly. ¡°You are an amazing girl. Now I feel bad for using this tea to test you. I meant to make it well, but our conversation was so interesting, I just lost track of time. Please forgive me?¡± He ducked his head in apology. ¡°Could you please just take one more little sip for this old urchin to see if it has improved? What I said about the monks is absolutely true you know.¡±


    That seemed reasonable. He looked so pitiful and such a tiny gesture would make him feel better and help her get one over on Rosemallow. A win-win. Before she knew it, the nasty tea filled her mouth again. Just for a second, she had the strong impression of blackberry. Maybe it is an acquired taste. He looked at her approvingly.


    ¡°See! It does get better. Are you feeling the strength in your body now? It will only increase as you have more.¡±


    Before she knew it, she had finished the cup. Her stomach gave an unpleasant gurgle, and abruptly she felt ill.


    ¡°Professor, I think I¡¯m going to...¡±


    He had a bucket in front of her just as her body rejected the ¡®tea¡¯ with vigor.  Guess the Inside felt it needed to keep that kind of realism, she thought.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± She was mortified to lose control of herself in front of the magic mentor she had just met.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t apologize! It¡¯s nothing I didn¡¯t expect; why do you think I had the bucket here? If anything, I should apologize to you. The method is a bit harsh, but I have found Outsiders learn best when the consequences are... dramatic."


    He put the bucket to the side. ¡°Each time I raised more fingers, I was increasing the amount of total charm magic I was using, combining the trait, magic, and a little bit of not-so-subtle verbal manipulation. The fact that you were aware of my efforts gave you a much higher resistance, which worked in your favor. The fact that you wanted to please me and impress Rosemallow worked in my favor. In the end, I used nearly my entire power to get you do something you really didn¡¯t want to do.¡±


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t feel anything magic happening. It really seemed to me like I changed my mind on my own.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that is what makes Charm so dangerous to the unwary. You must have really tricked quite a few sentients in your trial to receive a trait of twenty-eight, as well as a very respectable skill level.¡±


    She thought over the spider, who seemed at least part sentient, as well as the goblins. She had almost gotten the goblin leader to dance with her after all. ¡°I guess I was pretty manipulative,¡± she said.


    ¡°And deceptive as well,¡± he chimed in. ¡°There is a related skill of Deception...¡±


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Upgraded(2) Apprentice(3) of Deception (VP = 6)


    <hr>


    ¡°¡­ which is what I used to change my titles for you. With a little training, you will be able to falsify aspects of your character sheet and public information, such as your name and level. Of course, anyone with a higher charm and deception skill will see right through you. Higher Scan ability can help too, when detecting deception. It is always a game of cat and mouse, trying to pass as someone, or something you are not.¡±


    She remembered her brief stint pretending to be a goblin. ¡°Can I pretend to be a different race? Would they just see a goblin, if that¡¯s what I wanted?¡±


    ¡°The Inside is always about mixing magic and reality. If you use disguise skill¡­¡±


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Natural(1) Novice(1) of Disguise (VP = 1)


    <hr>


    ¡°¡­ particularly if you get it just a bit better, it will multiply your other efforts. If you went out on the street and acted like a goblin, using just your Charm trait and Deception, you might be able to fool the gullible for a few seconds, or frighten small children quite severely. If you did the same in a dark forest, even a seasoned adventurer might be taken in. If you brought your disguise skill up to match your deception skill, you could hold a short conversation with someone with lower levels in these skills, and they would never think you were anything other than a stray goblin they met in the woods.¡±


    He took a sip of his tea, not seeming to mind the taste at all, and continued.


    ¡°Now a true master of deception and disguise could easily fool even me at my most vigilant, and that is no easy task, I assure you.¡±


    His eyes glazed for just a second, and then snapped back to her. ¡°Well, will you look at the time!¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you had better run to your next appointment. Rosemallow does not take tardiness lightly, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Lilijoy could only imagine.


    ¡°We will meet again tomorrow, I hope.¡± He handed her a small wooden token, round with an elegant calligraphy ¡®A¡¯ emblazoned on both sides. ¡°Use this to contact me when you are free.¡±


    After saying their goodbyes, Lilijoy ran as fast as she could to the pond. Rosemallow was nowhere to be seen, and she heaved a sigh of relief, only to double-take when she saw her, standing quietly under a willow with her arms outstretched.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow?¡±


    ¡°Damn it!¡± her trainer swore. ¡°You caught me. Looks like your lesson with Ani taught you something after all. Not that my Charm and Deception are anything special.¡±


    She came striding out of the trees and lowered her face to Lilijoy¡¯s.


    ¡°YOU ARE LATE!¡± She bellowed. ¡°Flash down to the arenas and back five times. NOW!¡±


    Wiping Rosemallow¡¯s encouragement off her face, Lilijoy turned and began to run.


    Flash!


    Before she could adapt, her limbs took off on her and carried her over the side of the switch-backed trail, down a rocky, brambled hill side that was, at least, a close cousin to a cliff. Her run turned into a controlled fall, and then devolved further into an uncontrolled tumble that carried her across several more hairpins and landed her as a pile of scrapes and bruises at the bottom of the hill.


    Still in Flash, she carefully minimized her efforts as she got to her feet. Without the water to resist her movements she lurched and stumbled but was finally able to draw herself upright and look back up the hillside. The distant form of her trainer was much less imposing from far away, until she saw Rosemallow crouch down and fling herself over the slope of the hill on a diagonal trajectory plummeting straight for Lilijoy like an angry blue-green meteor.


    In a fit of common sense, Lilijoy decided that she should be as far away from the impact zone as possible. She leaned forward and eased into an odd stutter-step that kept her center of gravity over her feet, giving forward movement a higher priority than grace or speed.


    Just a moment later a huge wave of force nearly threw her off her feet, pushing her into a more active stumble. Through some miracle, she was able to keep her balance, and began to almost fall forward on the gentle downward slope to the arenas, thankful for the low grass and even terrain of the field. With each stride her feet moved just fast enough to catch her before a faceplant and her arms flailed wildly to the sides to keep her motion from twisting her over, but after a minute she found a better rhythm and began to push off with her feet. A stiff wind grew and roared around her ears, pushing back at her like a storm gale. Before she knew it, she was at the first arena.


    She made a wide loop around the structure, taking in its rough dirt surface and multiple wooden bleachers, enjoying the force pushing her body to tilt as she curved around. She headed back up the gentle slope, this time staying on the path. Ascending was more strenuous, but also easier to maintain stability; she could lean into the hill and drive off her back leg, almost leaping now. Her breath was coming faster but she still wasn¡¯t approaching the limits of her Endurance and Vitality.


    A feeling of joy in her speed and power began to rise in her chest, just in time for her to encounter a smashing blow to her face that sent her to respawn.


    She reappeared in the same place, directly in front of a grinning Rosemallow. For about the thousandth time, she thanked her system''s ability to block pain. I wonder what someone with a Rank One system would do? Or would they not feel pain Inside in the first place?


    ¡°Pay attention, Three Bites! You ran into a rock with your face. Best keep an eye out in case any more decide to come flying your way. Go!¡±


    The rock in question sat innocently on the edge of the path, as Lilijoy raced by. She activated her all her senses, listening especially carefully to her trainer¡¯s movements as she ran up the switchbacks. It was much too slow taking all the curves and hairpins, so she started to leap directly up the hill, weaving in her Power to boost jumps that could take her thirty feet up the slope at a go. Even when she wiped out she was able to keep scrambling up the hill until her balance returned. By the time she reached the top she was dirty and sweaty, scratched from head to toe, and utterly exhilarated.


    Back down, dodging rocks, both stationary and thrown by her trainer. Swinging around the arena. Back up, leaping and scrambling. Repeat. Repeat. By the last circuit, her legs were burning, her chest heaving and sweat was pouring down her tiny frame.


    She decided to imitate Rosemallow¡¯s mighty leap and took a running start, propelling herself as far out from the top of the hill as possible. She soared into the late afternoon air, feeling her body¡¯s position in space as she flew, making tiny adjustments to keep herself stable in the air. She hit near the bottom of the slope, already pumping her legs as fast as she possibly could, allowing the angled ground to soften her landing.


    This is amazing! she thought.


    The power and speed of her movements was a burning bliss. She pushed her exhaustion to the side and tore through the grass of the open field, tempted to keep going forever, until she reached the end of the world and fell off. She had this, she owned this, and it was only going to get better.


    Finally, she was standing in front of Rosemallow by the pond again, panting and grinning from ear to ear. Her trainer looked at her with a raised eyebrow, her third eye oscillating.


    ¡°Having a little too much fun there, Three Bites? Next time I¡¯ll bring spears.¡± She took on a distant expression. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯ll break out my old bow. I haven¡¯t used that in forever.¡± Snapping out of her reverie, she turned and began to walk back to the Academy building.


    ¡°We should think of a distance weapon for you,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re a little small for a bow, and thrown weapons just aren¡¯t worth it past a certain level; too easy to dodge, not enough damage. Nope, you¡¯re a slinger.¡±


    She continued walking up the hill, talking to Lilijoy without bothering to make sure she was there, but now Lilijoy just put on a little Flash to stay next to her.


    ¡°Of course, that means I¡¯ll have to find someone to show you the ropes. Ha!¡± She laughed at something that Lilijoy assumed was related to the weapon under discussion. A thought came to her out of the blue.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow, have you ever rescued someone?¡±


    The Oni glanced down at her without breaking stride. ¡°I¡¯m rescuing you from a life of ignorance every time we speak.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean like from a prison, someone being held captive by bad guys. Only you don¡¯t know where the prison is. Or anything else, really.¡±


    She felt a familiar sense of despair wash over her; she was not the tiniest bit closer to rescuing Attaboy. She didn¡¯t dare to involve Anda, not the way he was now. Marcus and the other exiles couldn¡¯t help her much, even if they were willing, which she doubted.


    Rosemallow stopped abruptly. ¡°Tell.¡±


    Lilijoy told her of her missing friend (or was it brother?), held captive by a powerful clan in an undisclosed location on the Outside.


    ¡°Outside problems.¡± With a sigh, Rosemallow began to walk up the hill again, with a bit more weight to her step.


    ¡°But that¡¯s why I¡¯m here!¡± Lilijoy protested. ¡°I need to train to fight and learn other skills I can use to rescue him.¡±


    ¡°Clans are bad news, Three Bites. The Academy is one of the few places free from their politics and fighting.¡± She spat to the side. ¡°We¡¯re neutral ground, and the clans go along with it for their own reasons. Mostly. I quit teaching years back to get away from clan crap. Too many students ruined after graduating; the noble ones destroyed, the others corrupted.¡±


    She stopped walking again. ¡°I agreed to teach you, in part, because you have no clan allegiance. Outsiders and their clans have changed the Inside for the worse. Ask the Elves. Or the Orcs. But that means that you will be in constant danger once you finish your training. They will try to recruit you or destroy you, because a powerful, independent Outsider is a threat to the whole corrupt society the Corp of Clans has created Inside.¡±


    I¡¯m a problem wherever I go, Lilijoy thought. ¡°But why¡­¡± she started.


    ¡°Enough clan talk.¡± Rosemallow said, still lost in her memories. ¡°I guess a rescue is a rescue. I assume you need to infiltrate and extract?¡±


    ¡°I guess so. It looks like it¡¯s just me by myself.¡±


    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll think about it. I know a couple people with no love for the clans who might be willing to train and advise you. Which clan holds your friend?¡±


    ¡°Sinaloa.¡±


    Rosemallow¡¯s body tightened. ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°It had to be those bastards.¡± She shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re the worst of the worst. Even the other clans don¡¯t like to deal with them. The Outies they bring in¡­ well, they¡¯re not right. Scared and twitchy. When I was still teaching, I could tell a Sinaloa serf in a glance. The actual clan kids were alright, entitled brats just like all the rest, maybe a bit more violent.¡±


    She paused. ¡°Dammit, you got me talking about clans again! Point is, that¡¯ll make it easier to find some help for you.¡± She looked over. ¡°Alright kid. I¡¯m out. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± She crouched and then leapt into the air.


    Lilijoy tracked her enormous form up to the top edge of the of the Academy building before losing sight. That must be at least two hundred feet! Her teacher continued to amaze her.


    After a moment¡¯s pondering, she decided to find a good place in the Academy building to sit and cultivate.

 Book 2: Ch. 8: Golem

    Interlude: Attaboy


    The first time Attaboy saw the pictures in front of his eyes was just after his second death.


    How he had returned to life, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure, but he knew that dying had changed him forever. Even before he opened his eyes to the dull sky, the pictures were there. He didn¡¯t know what most of them were, but he could tell that there was an eye, an ear and a nose. There was also a star with eight points and a little stick figure, like he and Lilijoy used to draw in the mud with sticks when they told stories to each other.


    Grabby had told him that he would die, when they talked for the last time.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be scared little one,¡± she had said. ¡°You will be reborn, and everything will change. You have died before, so don¡¯t worry.¡±


    He remembered it, even though at the time his chest was burning and he couldn¡¯t see very well. It was the most Grabby had ever said, and his voice had sounded strange, not like the usually speaking of the tribe. Since Attaboy was dying, he didn¡¯t have the energy to wonder about it until later.


    ¡°There is nothing for you here anymore,¡± Grabby had continued. ¡°Someday you will understand, and when the time comes, you might return. But that will be many years from now.¡±


    With that, Grabby had left him where he lay on the cold ground. Attaboy had watched the large hunched shoulders stumble into the distance. Then he died.


    He wasn¡¯t sure how long he died for, but when he saw the pictures in his eyes as he returned to consciousness, he knew that he was different from before. The stick figure was yellow when he woke, but as he rested for several hours, it slowly turned green, and he felt energy returning to his limbs. He had the feeling that the stick figure was a picture of his body.


    By the time the sun was setting, his body felt pretty good. The damage from the toxic air of the Piles seemed to have healed, and he could see better than before, even with the pictures in his eyes. He climbed to his feet and began to walk.


    <hr>


    Chapter 8: Golem


    No one knows exactly how it happened, how a major Mexican drug cartel became a purveyor of the new nano-machine brain interface systems (NBIS). Somehow, someone with uncanny foresight in their leadership took it on themselves to invest in the new technologies before they were widely available. Perhaps it was related to the standing practice of sending their best and brightest young people to earn chemistry degrees from universities around the world? (Thanks Breaking Bad!)


    Those young people were indebted, expected to return home and begin cooking up compounds for their patrons, and we can only imagine they brought with them more than the latest techniques for making better methamphetamine. Perhaps they returned with a sense of where this exciting new field of nanochemistry was headed, and enough knowledge to guide the cartel into the future.


    It didn''t hurt that many of the major industrial and chemical manufacturing complexes of the Americas fell under Sinaloa''s control as they steadily annexed more and more power from the weak Mexican government.


    What is well known is that the aftermath of the first warming war of 2038 allowed Sinaloa to formally capture much of Western Mexico, and turn their attention to developing better and better maquinitas (lit. little machines). Their early efforts were simple, able to stimulate a handful of neurochemicals in a largely uncontrolled manner, not much different in effect from the pure chemistry of cocaine, heroin and methamphetamine. But with each generation they grew more sophisticated, eventually including rudimentary interfaces so that the user could control the intensity and duration of the high.


    Meanwhile, Sinaloa continued the practice of sending students to universities, only now they would go on to become employees of the major corporations involved in the development of NBIS, providing Sinaloa with a steady stream of cutting edge research stolen from their employers. This allowed Sinaloa to integrate more and more sensory integration to their maquinitas , culminating in the development of the Suenos (Dream) System, a full sensory immersion system that followed hot on the heels of Tesla''s pioneering Primer System.


    The great irony is that Sinaloa was largely spared by Guardian during its early suppression, due to the fact that they were actively disinterested in self-replication research, focused as they were on building product with a limited lifespan. Of course, this meant that millions of people with black market Suenos bugs had to pay repeatedly to maintain their blissful existence, and were uniquely vulnerable during the tribulation. Nevertheless, Sinaloa''s distrust of networked systems and insular culture rendered them one of the strongest forces in the early years after Guardian''s rise.


    Lilijoy finished her latest reading of the Sinaloa section from Renaissance¡¯s tract Comments on the Clans. She had lost track of how many times she had read it by this time, but it was at least once a day.


    Once a day since she had discovered they were holding Attaboy.


    It reminded her why she had to get stronger. For the thousandth time, she questioned her strategy, wondered if she was escaping her problems by training Inside. She looked at her system stats to reassure herself her latest round of cultivation had been all it could be.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: INITIATE</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>345,091</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>72%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>79%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>


    4 detected, 3 identified


    Medical Bugs: .672 Billion, 10% assigned


    Rank 4 (Blood): .045 Billion, 10% assigned


    Rank 5 (Skin): .015 Billion, 10% assigned


    Sensor and Infiltration: 0, 0% assigned


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Lilijoy was hard up against her cultivation limit. Twenty thousand flowers per hour, or about twenty million bugs, seemed like a huge number.


    Until it wasn¡¯t.


    She cultivated for over six hours and could have continued indefinitely if she hadn¡¯t reached the end of her endurance. She had reached the point at which her system could gather resources faster than she could use them.


    On the bright side, her system had reached the ¡®Initiate¡¯ level. It didn¡¯t mean much to her, but it sure was nice to have a change from seeing ¡®Unrated¡¯ every time she opened her system status.


    This latest cultivation she had decided to assign a portion of her resources to the other support systems she had acquired, blood and skin. At just ten percent each, she didn¡¯t expect changes in her body anytime soon, but it was nice to get started on the long road of upgrading her body. She pulled up her Tao System Ranking display to see if she could get an idea of how long it would take.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="4">Tao System Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td></td>


    <td>Current</td>


    <td>System Potential</td>


    <td>Notes</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 1: Senses</td>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>There are unutilized sensory skills currently accessible. More training required. See Details.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 2: Brain</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>Choose pain levels, hunger levels. Set basic mood. Boost. Focus. Non-Tao Systems are primitive in this area. You have far greater capabilities ¨C see Rank 11: Brain II. More training required in emotional modulation, specific somatic feedback dampening</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 3: Reflexes</td>


    <td>4</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>Peripheral nervous system integration and myelin replacement. Continue ¡®Flash¡¯ training to challenge somatic integration</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 4: Blood</td>


    <td>.0006</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>Current support system adequate up to level two.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 5: Skin</td>


    <td>.0005</td>


    <td>10</td>


    <td>Excellent support system up to level 10</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 6: Bone</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 7: Circulatory system</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system. Prioritize these.</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 8: Muscles</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 9: Nerves</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 10: Organs</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>Requires secondary system</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Rank 11: Brain II</td>


    <td>?</td>


    <td>?</td>


    <td>Enhanced neural structures. Tighter coupling with external information sources</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Medical</td>


    <td>0</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>


    Grade 4 Med bots present for cultivation/improvement.


    Sufficient quantities for wound repair, background tissue remediationYou could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    With significant research and customization there is a possibility they could be re-purposed to improve Ranks 5 to 10 (requires Tao Stage 2)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Other</td>


    <td></td>


    <td></td>


    <td>


    Infiltration sensor bugs. Tao system will far surpass these in time, but they may have a role in the near term.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="3">Rank 1: Sense Details (8/10)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Vision</td>


    <td>9</td>


    <td>Work on: Integrated visual information (targeting), peripheral awareness, expanded visible wavelengths</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Hearing</td>


    <td>9</td>


    <td>Work on improving spatial mapping, widening audible spectrum</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Smell/Taste</td>


    <td>6</td>


    <td>


    Develop spatial sense, better chemical and gradient analysis, larger library of identifications. Suggest training with no sight or hearing.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Touch</td>


    <td>6</td>


    <td>Train greater sensitivity in detail, air currents, focus on hair follicles</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Proprioception</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>Take what you learned from Emily¡¯s piano and apply it to many movement-based skills, particularly acrobatics and martial arts. Practice mirroring ¨C translating sight to movement</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Synergy</td>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>With experience, begin using senses together much more. Spatial map can be based on all senses simultaneously and can contain near complete information about your local environment.</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Well¡­ that was unspectacular, she thought. The numbers were disappointing. She ran a quick calculation in her head. If she cultivated for six hours a day, every day, it would take her over five years for her skin to reach Anda¡¯s level. The blood bugs weren¡¯t much better.


    ¡°Jiannu, what should I do? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s even worth it to cultivate support systems. Except the med bugs.¡±


    ¡°It would be best to focus on Stage One for now. You are close to being able to cultivate Stage Two, which will change many things. Get to half a million flowers and we will be able to begin in earnest; everything to this point has been preamble.¡±


    ¡°Okay. While I¡¯m thinking of it, assign our next cultivation rate of twenty percent to med bugs, and the rest to a good mix of vines and flowers.¡±


    With that taken care of, she decided to train for the few hours remaining before dawn. She spent an hour with all her senses except touch turned off, wandering around on the field near the arenas. She learned to sense when she entered the arena¡¯s ¡®shadow¡¯ by the subtle changes to the little breezes caressing her skin, and only ran into solid objects a few times, even as she challenged herself to move faster and faster.


    Her mental map was able to show the buildings, at least until she ran faster than the air currents. She could feel the tiny persistent updraft from the ground at her feet, which changed slightly as she moved over areas that had been shaded by the end of the day. Her feet were the most helpful, and she focused on feeling fine details in the texture and composition of the surfaces as she walked.


    Helpful as it was, it was also a little scary and boring. She knew though, that she was laying a foundation for using the skill in combat and stuck with it for a while before adding smell. This close to the arena a huge variety of new scents came to her nose. She didn¡¯t have a context for many of them, nor did her system, but she deduced they must be from animals or different types of people. She did her best to file them away in her memory.


    By the time morning came, she was moving in Flash while using all her senses except sight, though as slowly as she could manage. Her echolocation was beginning to adapt to faster movement on her part, and she challenged herself to weave around the various arenas, going over, under and around the bleachers and exploring the buildings next to the largest two arenas. She was pretty sure she knew what nervous humans smelled like after entering the chamber immediately next to an opening onto the dirt floor of the largest structure. This must be where they wait before fighting, she thought.


    All in all it was a relaxed session and she felt reinvigorated and ready for the day when she turned her sight back on.


    Time for stances, she thought, and shuddered.


    ***


    The first training session of the morning was a little different than she had expected. They were in the courtyard, the rocks were piled up against the wall. First, Rosemallow took her through the twenty stances she had learned previously. She had Lilijoy squat walking with a red stone in each hand, and then barked out the stance in the abbreviated form she had asked Lilijoy to memorize.


    ¡°Versus blade reach!¡±


    This meant the stance for countering a sword bearing opponent who was bigger than her. Which was pretty much anyone she would ever encounter.


    ¡°Two staff!¡± pause ¡°Two blade!¡± pause ¡°Many unarmed!¡±


    Lilijoy flowed flawlessly through the stances. It was really very easy for her, because her body remembered what each form felt like when correct with absolute certainty. The rocks she carried were a little tricky, as some stances called for open hands, but she soon figured out that Rosemallow expected her to drop them when necessary. When her trainer tried to throw her off with nonsense commands, or by changing stances extremely rapidly, Lilijoy moved into Flash.


    She had discovered her thoughts were increasing in speed the more time she spent in Flash. She knew it was her system helping to accommodate the trait, and she almost felt a little guilty about how easy it was for her. However, that sense of guilt quickly turned to glee as she was able to parse Rosemallow¡¯s barked instructions no matter how quickly her trainer spoke. Finally, Rosemallow gave a great sigh of disgust.


    ¡°This is no fun at all! You¡¯re supposed to be screwing up and tripping over your own feet. How am I going to teach you humility if you won¡¯t screw up?¡± She looked skyward, pretending to ponder the situation. ¡°Oh, I know. It¡¯s time to actually fight!¡± A huge grin grew across her face. ¡°Get ready, Three Bites!¡±


    At first Lilijoy faced Rosemallow, expecting to fight her trainer for the two seconds it would take before utter obliteration. Instead, her trainer uttered a phrase under her breath and a loud grinding noise came from the pile of rocks behind her. She spun and witnessed rocks of every color rising and rolling over one another, forming a rough humanoid figure about six feet tall. Gray and black rocks stacked as its torso,strings of white stones its arms and legs, with red rocks at the knees and elbows. Mounted on the yellow stone head were two small red rocks for eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s a rock golem. Knock off all the red, win the fight,¡± her trainer explained as the rock creature began to stride slowly toward Lilijoy. She noticed more red stones stuck onto the torso, representing other vital areas.


    The golem¡¯s component stones creaked and ground together, setting Lilijoy¡¯s teeth on edge. She observed it carefully, suspicious of its slow and ponderous presentation. It would be just like Rosemallow to lure her in with a slow enemy, only for it to burst into a series of fast movements. But the creature showed no signs of speed as it approached and raised its arms into the first combat stance.


    Might as well take the plunge, she decided. She activated Flash and dodged around its first strike.


    The golem¡¯s arm lashed out with great force, but Lilijoy could see it coming easily.


    I don¡¯t even need Flash for this.


    She ducked under the outstretched arm and grabbed a red knee-rock, trying to pull it out. No luck. The rock was wedged firmly, and her effort only caused the entire leg to wiggle slightly. As she was tugging, the other arm swept down, and she moved her head just in time, still sustaining a scrape on her forehead that knocked her off balance. Disoriented, she scrambled to create distance, and the creature did not pursue.


    So that¡¯s how its going to be. This guy¡¯s slow, but tough.


    She went in again, this time aiming for the ''knee'' with a palm strike that struck solidly and sent a shock of impact stinging up her arm. Shaking out her hand, she retreated once again. The stone had moved just a fraction of an inch.


    Crap. This is going to hurt, she thought imagining what a full knuckle strike would do to her poor hand.


    Wait. Rocks! She ran to the pile and picked up a red rock.


    ¡°Sorry, Three Bites,¡± her trainer called. ¡°No weapons for you.¡±


    Double crap.


    ***


    What followed was every bit the exercise in humility her trainer had desired. Lilijoy tried everything she could think of, pulling, twisting, breaking her knuckles on the hard rocks, even climbing up the golem¡¯s back to try to yank one of the eyes off. Nothing worked.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Three Bites?¡± her trainer asked. ¡°That¡¯s the slowest, weakest golem I can make. You aren¡¯t giving up already?¡±


    Lilijoy glared at her from the edge of the courtyard. ¡°This is impossible. I¡¯m not strong enough to knock off a rock even if it stood still and let me try!¡±


    Rosemallow scoffed. ¡°This isn¡¯t strength building, kid. This is combat. I make these golems work like human bodies, so you can train properly. It¡¯s not about size or strength, it¡¯s about knowledge and leverage. They move slowly so you have time to be a beginner, not an idiot.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Fine. Let me show you.¡±


    She assumed a seated position on the ground and held up the smallest finger of her left hand, her other hand held behind her back. Lilijoy watched as the golem oriented on her trainer and moved to attack from its customary stance. It punched out at her with full force.


    Rosemallow moved her head to the side casually to avoid the blow, and reached over as the golem¡¯s fist went past, covering it with her finger and guiding it over her shoulder with just enough force to bring the golem forward in its stance. Then she whipped the same hand behind its back knee and pulled it toward her, again with just one finger, forcing it to bend sharply.


    With all its weight now on the front foot the creature pulled its arms back to its center of gravity as Rosemallow continued the motion behind its back knee, pulling it toward her in one fluid motion. The golem went with the movement, driving its knee toward her chest, but she simply pivoted and allowed it to pass.


    She reached her finger over to the now straight front leg and knocked the red stone sharply from the side. The stone popped loose, and the creature¡¯s leg crumbled. The momentum of its attack carried it over to fall heavily on its back.


    ¡°Move fast once you have them down. Grappling is never going to be an ideal situation for you,¡± her trainer said clinically, as she casually used her little finger to remove more red stones with precise applications of force, totally in control of the golem¡¯s body. It was an almost pathetic scene to watch; Rosemallow manipulated the golem¡¯s movements like a physical chess master. At times it appeared as if the creature was actively cooperating in its own dismantling.


    ¡°Disable limbs first when you can. Knees and elbows are weak points in any creature with a skeleton. Fingers and hands too, when we get to that point. Those will always be the closest targets.¡±


    She casually began popping stones off the torso; the golem was completely helpless without any working limbs.


    ¡°Of course, spell casters cause a few wrinkles. They only need their voice,¡± she said removing the red stone tucked under the golem¡¯s ¡®chin¡¯. ¡°But you rarely end up in a close combat situation with specialists unless you run them down, and you will usually be able to strike faster than they can speak.¡±


    She popped off the final stone and stood, brushing her hands together.


    Lilijoy stood spellbound by the display. Was this some kind of magic? She tried to wrap her head around what she had seen, around the possibilities this physical understanding presented. It seemed so simple; just learn how an opponent¡¯s body worked and move faster than they could react. Of course, she knew it wasn¡¯t that easy; the golem was designed to be slow and predictable, and real enemies would know how to defend their weaknesses far more effectively. Still¡­ this was a revelation.


    ¡°Thank you Master Rosemallow,¡± she said. ¡°Can I try again?¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 9: Lessons

    Interlude: Attaboy


    By the fifth time the old woman came into his cell, Attaboy was feeling much better. He could sit up from his cot, and even take a few steps around the room. Many of the aches and pains were gone, though he still felt considerable discomfort at the base of his skull.


    When he reached back, he could feel a rough patch, almost as if his skin had been glued together, and a small depression in the bone, where he was pretty sure there had been none before.


    He tried to ask the old woman about it, but her words were hard to understand. In his travels before capture, Attaboy had learned that not everyone had the same words. He had learned many of the words from the villages he had passed through, asnew words and knowledge soaked into his reborn mind like water in dry dirt, but the old woman¡¯s words were new to him. Plus, she didn¡¯t have many teeth left, and that made it even harder.


    Even selecting his ear picture didn¡¯t help.


    He felt like his mind had been scrambled in his small cell, and wondered if he might have died a third time.


    He couldn¡¯t remember much about how he got into the cell, just a few images of running from large people and being shot. He had learned about guns the first time he entered a village, had learned about the thunderous noise and the destructive force of the metal sticks, when the big people had fired at him and yelled in words he couldn¡¯t understand. That was also where he learned, from the children who were taunting him and throwing sticks, that most people in the world were big and that he was a ¡®gob¡¯.


    He missed Lilijoy terribly for a while after that experience. She was always the one he could talk to when he felt bad about something.


    Thankfully, there had been no shortage of food on his journey, as the termite mounds were plentiful. Later, he discovered that his new pictures had raised his scavenging abilities to new heights. His eye picture was turning green, which had allowed him to see in the dark and see great distances clearly. His nose picture was still yellow, but now he could smell live food from a great distance, and find buried foods with ease. His ears allowed him to avoid predators and other dangers. Attaboy was quite sure that he would have died, possibly permanently, if it wasn¡¯t for his pictures.


    Of course, he still didn¡¯t understand what most of them did. There was a square with lines across it that filled his vision with hundreds of bizarre lines and shapes. The first time he activated that one, he nearly peed himself, and after spending most of a day trying to get back to his normal pictures, he resolved not to tinker with the unfamiliar ones.


    The second village was more friendly. No one shot at him, and a kind couple even allowed him into their home for a night. That was the first time he learned that there were man people and woman people. It turned out that woman people had a strange need for being secret when they changed their cloths, which made Attaboy feel glad he hadn¡¯t had to deal with that at Night¡¯s Safety.


    He learned many things in his brief stay, but he felt compelled to move on from the village.


    After all, he had a quest to complete.


    <hr>


    Chapter 9: Lessons


    Sitting alone in her room, Lilijoy thought back on the last few days of training. She had fought golems of increasing speed and varying sizes, lifted rocks at increasing levels of gravity, and run in Flash until her Endurance finally ticked up another point. She had also begun to learn to wield a short blade.


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Upgraded(2) Novice(1) of Weapons: Blades: Short (VP = 2)


    <hr>


    ¡°Guess there¡¯s nowhere to go but up,¡± Rosemallow had commented when she unveiled the skill. In just a few sessions, Lilijoy had raised the skill to Initiate level, and was curious about what all the terms meant.


    ¡°It¡¯s simple,¡± said her trainer in response. "There are seven ranks to your base skill, which is like your natural traits. It represents your actual competence at the skill."


    <hr>


    Novice (1)


    Initiate (2)


    Apprentice (3)


    Journeyman (5)


    Expert (8)


    Master (13)


    Grand Master (21)


    <hr>


    ¡°When you Outies come here, all of your knowledge and abilities come with you. If you learn a skill Inside, you learn the skill Outside too, for the most part. If you are an expert musician Outside, you are the same in here. It¡¯s common sense really. What is different here is the other set of ranks. There is a special magic to skills Inside that supports and expands your base ability. We call it the ¡®Magi¡¯ part of a skill. Again, there are seven ranks...."


    <hr>


    Natural (1)


    Upgraded (2) (costs 2 points)


    Augmented (3) (costs 3 points)


    Enhanced (5) (costs 5 points)


    Illustrious (8) (costs 8 points)


    Illuminated (13) (costs 13 points)


    Enlightened (21) (costs 21 points)


    <hr>


    ¡°But unlike base skills, you raise magi skills with free points. The magi skill can never be more than one rank greater than the base skill. Let¡¯s take your unarmed combat skill for example..."


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Natural(1) Apprentice(3) of Unarmed Combat (VP = 3)


    <hr>


    ¡°You have learned a huge amount in just a few days, and just barely reached the Apprentice level in your base skill. You haven¡¯t spent any free points yet on the magi skill, so you remain ¡®Natural¡¯ which is to say, unaugmented by magic. Each time you level up, you can spend free points to raise the magi skill one rank.¡±


    Lilijoy was quite proud of her martial arts accomplishments. She had discovered that she could watch old videos while on the Inside, just as she could also cultivate and communicate with the Outside. She had spent hours watching training videos and martial arts movies, using her system to visualize and copy the movements. It was still very much a work in progress, but between her research and Rosemallow¡¯s training, she was improving quickly enough to impress her trainer. It was one reason they had begun weapon training.


    Rosemallow continued, ¡°Then it¡¯s just a matter of multiplying the points from each rank. An Enlightened Grand Master has four hundred and forty-one VP, value points, to her skill. When we are talking about combat, that is a direct bonus to offense and defense. An EGM could kill you by sneezing. Luckily for you, achieving Grand Master rank is almost impossible. Even Master level is extremely difficult to attain, but much more common, so the strongest fighters tend to be Enlightened Masters, with two hundred and seventy-three VP.¡±


    She took a breath and continued lecturing. Lilijoy always loved it when Rosemallow went into lecture mode. Not only was it informative, it also involved far less suffering.


    ¡°Of course, combat isn¡¯t really just about damage points. Along the way, you will discover other ways to use VP for a skill. An archer may be able to increase their rate of fire or curve their shots. With melee weapons, you can learn to stun opponents, or stop just short of killing. There are many possibilities, and each fighter finds their own tricks. When you add in Flash and Power, the possibilities are endless.¡±


    She let out a satisfied sigh before turning to the latest torturous exercise for Lilijoy.


    The lessons with Professor Anaskafius had been wonderful. The day after her first Charm lesson he had shown her the other part of magic on the Inside.


    ¡°In our last meeting, we talked about Charm, a talk I am anxious to revisit soon. But first, there is an entire world of magic for you to discover. Indeed, many consider Charm to be more ¡®magic adjacent¡¯ if you know what I mean?¡±


    He had looked at her with such an earnest expression, she couldn¡¯t help nodding.


    ¡°The elements, young miss, are what most consider to be the true magic of the Inside. Do you know what I am referring to?¡±


    ¡°Fire, Water, Air and Earth,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Very good. When you underwent your trial, you were evaluated for your affinity and received modifiers to your species starting point. If you chose to go into a cave instead of the open air, you might have raised your Earth Affinity.¡±


    Lilijoy had a good feeling about her Earth Affinity.


    ¡°It¡¯s normal to favor one or two elements over the others. Myself, I prefer fire and earth. The Earth Affinity is to be expected for my kind, but my family is still bewildered by the fire part. Typically, the Hedgefolk prefer water, or even air over fire. But I have always loved the dance and colors of the flame. Anyway, enough about me; let¡¯s take a look at your affinities.


    <hr>


    Elemental Affinities Unlocked!


    Base + Trial Bonus


    33% Fire: 20 + 13 (Tier III)


    58% Earth: 25 + 33 (Tier II)


    30% Water: 20 + 10 (Tier III)


    28% Air: 15 + 13 (Tier IV)


    (Tier IV 0-29%, Tier III 30-54%, Tier II 55-79%, Tier I 80%+)


    <hr>


    His eyes widened for just an instant. ¡°Well, well. You must have a little of the Hedge in you, Emily. I have never seen a human with uneven base starting points. Typically, it¡¯s twenties down the line. And what a beautiful sight that Earth Affinity is. Your trainer will be pleased, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if Rosemallow could be pleased by anything other than her suffering, but she nodded anyway. ¡°What do the numbers mean?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Not too much at the moment, as you will need a Source before you can do anything magical yourself."


    He forestalled her next question. "There will be a very helpful class for you explaining Sources and all the other details behind spellcasting. Once you know the basics, I will be happy to help explain anything you don''t fully understand. For the numbers you see in front of you now, the percentage is the amount of damage reduction from direct magical effects. What matters even more is the Tier. Better Tiers make it easier to learn spells and raise your affinities. The higher your affinity, the less points it costs to raise. It is most common for humans to emerge from the Trials all at tier fours, with maybe a three if they are lucky. But, as you well know by now, you had an excellent trial. Not the best I¡¯ve seen for affinities, but certainly nothing to complain about!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the highest affinity you¡¯ve seen from the Trials?¡± she asked, feeling disappointed for no rational reason.


    ¡°You must keep in mind that those of us from the Inside, and the Outside clans as well, have a certain advantage when it comes to preparation. Oh, we all know not to spoil the results by telling them what to expect, though it took the clans a while to figure that out. Also, Insiders don¡¯t do the same Trial as Outsiders, it¡¯s a bit more situational.


    With that in mind, the best I¡¯ve seen from an Outsider was two scores in the sixties. Other species start with different base levels. Some elves, for example, start with thirty in air and water. Or my folk, who start with forty in earth. But affinities do not a mage make! There are still two traits we need to look at."


    <hr>


    Traits Unlocked!


    Mana Well: 94


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.Mana Gathering: 10%/100 seconds


    <hr>


    ¡°Excellent scores once again! This part is simple, I hope. Your Mana Well is how much magical power you can hold, and Mana Gathering is how fast you can fill your Mana Well. For brevity¡¯s sake, we usually just call them Mana and Gathering. I think it is every mage¡¯s wildest fantasy to have their Gathering at one hundred percent, so that they could cast spells all day and never run out, but only the most obsessive bring it past twenty. It is far easier to expand your Mana Well.¡±


    The rest of the magic lessons had been Charm work. She practiced hiding and changing her public information, and altering her character sheet, then resisting Professor Anaskafius¡¯ attempts to convince her to do various tasks. The other exciting moment was when he brought out a small plant.


    Some kind of succulent, maybe related to aloe?


    ¡°This is a burnbalm plant,¡± he announced. ¡°Time to see what you can do with this little fellow.¡±


    <hr>


    Skill Unlocked: Augmented(3) Journeyman(5) of Nature: Plants (VP = 15)


    <hr>


    ¡°Your skill with plants is remarkable for someone so young!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°And with the top-level skill too!¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t try to explain that she was channeling knowledge from her system. If it worked, why poke at it?


    I wonder if the only limit is my connection to the Tao System, she thought. Will I instantly know everything about everything when I finish Stage Two?


    ¡°Usually I see youngsters with Herbalism or Horticulture, if anything,¡± Professor Anaskafius was explaining, "Nature: Plants is what is known as a top-level skill. It includes the ones I mentioned, and one or two others I rarely come across. Arboriculture, I think, is one of them. How excellent for you to start at the top, as it were. Either way, you will use your skill, combined with Charm: Plants when you work with our little burnbalm plant here.¡±


    He moved the plant in front of Lilijoy.


    ¡°The trick to working Charm on plants is to know what they want to do. Obviously, plants have no brain, but they do have an immense will to be themselves. Trying to get a plant to do anything not in its nature is an exercise in futility. What do you think our burnbalm plant wants to do?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Grow,¡± Lilijoy answered immediately. ¡°And¡­¡± She considered the plant for a few moments, ¡°¡­ defend itself. But there¡¯s something else.¡± Without realizing, she dipped lightly into her Two Minds, One Self ability, sinking into a rapport with the little potted plant.


    ¡°We have lived with the un-sensed ones, who have spread us far and wide. They take and take, but they give more than they take. We serve the un-sensed, for what protects us heals them,¡± the burnbalm and Lilijoy said.


    ¡°Most interesting!¡± her mentor exclaimed. ¡°I begin to understand your new ability, young miss. You have confirmed something I have pondered for all my years working with plants... they are aware of us at some level! Perhaps those plants, such as our friend here, that have been propagated for use by people over millennia have grown into a symbiotic state. Oh, the experiments we can do!¡± He rubbed his little paws together feverishly as he spoke.


    Shaking her head to remove the trance, Lilijoy looked at the burnbalm with fresh eyes. It was not just one plant, but an extrusion of a vast being sprawled across history, one tiny needle poking into her time and space, connected to a huge branching tree of ancestry.


    ¡°Now ask it to grow,¡± suggested Professor Anaskafius. ¡°But don¡¯t use your ability just yet. Just skill and charm should be enough for a visible effect.


    Lilijoy addressed the small potted plant in front of her.


    ¡°Grow, please.¡±


    She imagined her charm feeding the plant, filling its fleshy leaves with sap and driving its shallow roots deeper into the little pot. The plant shivered, swelled, and ever so slowly began to grow. She kept her focus for several minutes before exhaustion set in, and by the time she finished, the little plant was not as little as before, perhaps doubling in size.


    ¡°Excellent work!¡± said Professor Anaskafius. ¡°Plant charming is not for the impatient. It can take weeks of daily effort to produce a significant impact with a mature tree, for example. But it is peaceful and wholesome work, by and large, though it does eventually drain your Mana. You can check your current Mana levels by thinking of your ¡®vital stats display¡¯. Try it now, if you would be so kind.¡±


    She did as he asked, and saw two colored bars appear, floating in the corner of her vision. The red one was full; the blue was just an outline with a bit of blue.


    ¡°As I¡¯m sure you know, red is your Health, blue is your Mana. Charming drains Mana slowly, at the rate of the Value Points of the associated skill, though you will have to experiment to figure out the time increments, as they are subject to many factors. It is always best to keep an eye on your Mana, on the blue, as the students like to say. Try not to go below fifty percent other than in dire emergencies.


    At your rate of Gathering, it will take about seventeen minutes to refill. If you sit quietly and meditate on collecting energy from your surroundings, you will find you can increase your Gathering substantially. You can try that now, for a few minutes, and then we will try out your ability.¡±


    Lilijoy closed her eyes and turned off all her external senses, though she used a tiny part of her system to monitor the environment in the background for any changes she should know about. She figured that eliminating distractions would be the best way to increase her focus on whatever it was she was trying to do.


    The dark void almost sent her into her Soul Space out of habit, but she resisted the temptation and stayed connected to the signals from within her body. She could feel her heart pushing the blood through her veins and the deep even breaths pulling air. A sense of lightness filled her, starting at the top of her head and then traveling down the back of her neck.


    She imagined the cozy chamber surrounding her, imagined it filled with energy that flowed into her with each breath, circulating around her body with her blood and filling her with energy. The feeling was a close cousin to cultivation, familiar and new at the same time.


    After a minute, her mind started to supply light to her eyes internally, imagination crossing over into her ocular cortex and activating neural structures that usually processed signals from her optic nerve. She felt like she was floating in a glowing sea that ebbed and flowed around her, that she was pulling on the waters and causing them to spiral slowly toward her center.


    She focused on the spiral motion, encouraging it to rotate inward to her body, and felt the sea of light respond, reluctantly at first, then with greater and greater force until she was at the center of a whirlpool of light that flowed into her and transformed, filling her with a vibrant tingling, until she could take no more and released, slowly returning to her senses.


    <hr>


    Skill Discovered: Natural(1) Journeyman(5) of Meditation (VP = 5)


    <hr>


    She was greeted with a full mana bar and a new skill as she regained her vision.


    Her mentor was watching her when she opened her eyes. ¡°Full already?¡± he inquired.


    ¡°Yes. I got a meditation skill too,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Excellent! You must already have considerable experience with inner journeys to have acquired the skill so quickly. What rank did you receive?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Natural Journeyman. Is that good?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really quite good! Particularly for someone your age, I must say.¡±


    He took off his little round glasses.


    ¡°I must tell you, Meditation is an odd skill. As far as anyone has been able to tell, there is no value received by raising the Magi portion of the skill. Best to leave it at Natural rather than waste points experimenting. The base part of the skill seems to multiply your Gathering by the Value Points it creates, in your case five times faster at its peak. However, it takes a couple minutes to get to that level, and usually a couple minutes to return to full alertness after, so don¡¯t plan on using it anywhere other than a completely secure location.¡±


    He wiped his glasses and perched them back on his snout.


    ¡°Can I try my ability now?¡± Lilijoy was eager to find out how different plant charming would be using Two Minds, One Self.


    Her professor was just as eager. Moments later, she was communing with the burnbalm plant.


    She reached out to it and felt it reach back to her, as if eager to resume the connection they had found earlier. They fell into rapport and found that neither was interested in growing larger at the moment, but that they wished to be useful.


    We are valued, they thought, for our healing defense. Our sap is thick and powerful against our enemies, the fast-eaters, and the pain of their penetration. Let us be powerful and useful and propagate by enhancing our mutual defense. Let us thicken and concentrate and supplement. We shall exalt our sap with energy from the earth and produce it in abundance. We are powerful. We are valued.


    After some time, they felt their energy flagging and unraveling, roots and branches disentangled, bodies resumed their boundaries, and soon, Lilijoy was sitting in front of a small potted plant again. Only now, the plant was a deep purple color, and beads of sparkling sap lined its blade-like leaves, collecting the light of the small room and refracting it, adding to it until they shone like gems.


    The sight alone was soothing, and Lilijoy had a strong feeling that the sap would possess abundant healing properties.


    ¡°My dear girl, you have created something wonderful here! This new ability changes everything for plant charming. I dearly hope you can teach it to others.¡± He looked to the side and lowered his voice. ¡°Perhaps in time, even this old Urchin could try if you are willing.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even know how, but I would be happy to try and help you learn, Professor,¡± Lilijoy said.


    He straightened and looked her in the eye.


    ¡°It would be a great honor to learn this ability someday. But now is not the time for you to be teaching me. It might take years before you gain the Teaching skill; many try to gain it and never succeed. Teaching is not for everyone, after all.¡±


    Lilijoy wondered what could possibly be so hard about teaching, but felt that the moment called for silent agreement, rather than more questions.


    When Professor Anaskafius consulted his internal clock and determined their time was up, he insisted she take the plant and could not be convinced otherwise.


    ¡°You have created something of great value here. You must keep it with you in your room and research the changes you have made. As your teacher, I absolutely insist!¡±


    ¡°But Professor,¡± she countered. ¡°I don¡¯t even have a room.¡±


    Anaskafius sputtered, ¡°No room? No room? How could you not have a room? You must see Mumo immediately. Now off with you, young one.¡± He turned, muttering to himself about negligent trainers.


    This led to the discovery that she did indeed have a room, only no one had bothered to tell her.


    ¡°You can¡¯t blame me,¡± Mumo had said, his three hairless tails floating behind his head. ¡°I was trapped under a rock.¡±


    He made a show of looking through a drawer in the giant desk he guarded.


    ¡°Here,¡± he said, leaning over the desk and handing her a thin silver chain. ¡°Wear this on your wrist or keep it on you, if you want your door to open. Room 3557.¡±


    Lilijoy stood beside the desk with the slim chain dangling from her fingers.


    ¡°How did you end up guarding the desk?¡± she asked.


    What she really wanted to know was how to find her room, but she thought he might be more helpful if he was trying to get rid of her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t talk about that!¡± he barked. ¡°Scram!¡±


    ¡°But where do I go?¡±


    A deep sigh emanated from behind the desk. Mumo stared at her with black, expressionless eyes, just visible to her from her low vantage. She smiled up at him in response.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to be so much trouble. I¡¯m sure I would know everything I needed if you had been here when I came the first time. Is there anything I can do for you in return?¡±


    He snorted. ¡°You¡¯re good, kid.¡±


    He made a gesture toward her and said something magic under his breath. ¡°Have a map of the Academy. Don¡¯t go in the black areas. I put a marker on your room for you. In return, I like fish, still flapping.¡±


    He eyed her burnbalm plant. ¡°It might be nice to have some plants in here too, if you can fix the whole ¡®no sun¡¯ issue.¡± He looked as if he might add something but turned away instead. Lilijoy could hear pen on paper.


    I guess that conversation¡¯s done. She noticed a small square icon blinking in the upper left corner of her vision. Must be the map¡­ Sure enough, she focused on it and the icon grew and unfolded several times, until a top down view of the Academy filled her vision.


    It really does look like a termite head, she noted. She could see a tiny red marker somewhere in the depths of the building and found she could zoom in and magnify the map at will, as well as navigating to the many different floors. After some more searching, she found her own location in the small room just off the front entrance.


    She turned to begin what looked like a long trek.


    ¡°Hey kid,¡± came Mumo¡¯s voice behind her. ¡°Magic has consequences. Sometimes. Listen to your teachers, and you might avoid guarding a hunk of misplaced forest for half your life. Thanks in advance for the fish.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the map, Mumo.¡±


    She found her way through halls and stairs and rooms that led to smaller rooms and then back to halls and more stairs.The Academy sprawled. It sprawled aggressively.


    She knew she was close when she started down a long hall with evenly spaced and numbered doors. Three thousand one, she noted. Only five fifty-six to go. Every hundred doors or so, the hall turned left or right for a stretch and then doubled back on itself. Finally, after the fifth turn, she found herself at her door.


    ***


    Stone. Whoever built the academy must really love stone, Lilijoy decided. The endless halls of the dormitory were stone. Walls and ceiling too. Randomly placed blocks of glowing white stone provided light. The doors, well, they were a dark heavy wood. But Lilijoy felt sure the builders would have preferred to make them stone too.


    Her room was stone, with one notable exception. An entire wall was an east-facing window, that looked out over the pond and the arenas. This was a little confusing to Lilijoy, as her map clearly showed that her room was deep in the interior of the building. She shrugged and moved on; ignoring things that confused her had become a habit recently. It occurred to her that the window was probably just magic stone anyway. Even the bed was a stone platform.


    When she first passed through Door 3557, she found herself in a central room with no furniture. Four additional doors led into four small bedrooms. Two of them had belongings already, so Lilijoy took the empty one with the giant window. Her plant needed light, after all. She took some time to settle in to the room, imagining what she could do with the space if she went to town and bought some furnishings.


    She had no money, but since she had lived her entire life to this point without it, she didn¡¯t feel any particular stress. It would come, or it wouldn¡¯t she decided.


    After a round of cultivation, she looked out at the night sky. The moons weren¡¯t visible through the window, but at least one of them was up, casting a gentle glow over the landscape. She thought over the last few days, and then the last couple of weeks. It felt good to have her own space on the Inside; it had never occurred to her to ask if one was available, but now that she was in it, she felt like she could process all she had learned in a different way. Somehow, a place of her own gave her the mental space to work through her thoughts.


    She was happy with her progress. It brought to mind what Jiannu had said to her before they reconciled.


    Growth is change. It is a common cognitive error for sentient beings to want growth without change. You must decide, Lilijoy. Do you want growth or not?


    She did want growth and if she was honest with herself, she also feared change. She could feel the stress from the two opposing principles. She needed to be the person who could save Attaboy. She wanted to stay who she was.


    Whoever that was.


    She was distracted from her musing by the sound of the front door opening. Followed by total silence. The door to her bedroom was closed, though unlocked, as she hadn¡¯t bothered to figure out the mechanism yet.


    Probably one of the others who live here, she decided.


    She opened her door and confronted the tall, thin figure of a girl dressed in black standing just to the side of the open front door. She looked to Lilijoy like she was about to bolt for the hall, staring back at her with dark brown eyes that darted around the room as if searching for threats.


    ¡°Hello!¡± Lilijoy said, trying to project harmlessness.


    This person seemed so frightened of her that she felt bad for coming out of her room.


    ¡°My name is¡­¡± she hesitated for a moment. She still had mixed feelings about the whole ¡®Emily¡¯ thing. But the reasons for choosing the name were valid, especially since she was meeting someone she didn¡¯t know at all. ¡°¡­Emily,¡± she finished. ¡°But you can call me Lily.¡±


    That seemed like a good compromise on the spur of the moment.


    The girl watched her silently. She had tightly braided hair and light-brown skin, and now, Lilijoy saw that her first impression of the girl¡¯s height was somewhat subjective. She was tall compared to Lilijoy but would still be considered quite small on the Outside.


    Not a huge fan of uncomfortable silence, Lilijoy tried again.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name? Are you from the Outside?¡±


    The girl seemed to reach an internal decision, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.


    ¡°I¡¯m Magpie. Don¡¯t call me Maggie. And yes, I¡¯m from the Outside.¡± She looked Lilijoy over.


    ¡°Nice hair. Are you a gnome or something?¡±

 Interlude: The Trial of Magpie

    Interlude: The Trial of Magpie


    Three days earlier:


    Magpie was seething. How was she supposed to know the big cow-thing was friendly? She was going to kill Uncle when she got back. Or at least sulk strongly when she was out of sight from his cameras. He expected her to ''achieve an outstanding result'', but then he told her nothing about what she was supposed to do. Except not die.


    She could still feel the embarrassment from her first encounter in her flushed face and squirming gut. It''s just common sense, she thought. When you see a giant cow monster looking down at you, you run and hide.


    The creature had laughed at her! And called her a frightened mouse, before opening that door that literally sucked her into the room where she was currently standing, facing three doors, one each of stone, metal and wood.


    "Some kind of trick, I bet," she said out loud. She didn''t want anyone who was listening in to think she was some kind of sucker. Uncle had trained her better than that. "Obviously you want me to take the silver door."


    Wealth was always hidden. The jewels on display were fake, the painting on the wall a copy. It was one of her first lessons; never take the obvious approach to your goal. Having eliminated the metal door, she considered her other options. "Stone door, black flower. Wooden door, white flower." Uncle had admonished her on more than one occasion for her habit of musing out loud.


    "Think in your head, foolish girl!" he was fond of saying. "You never know who''s listening."


    Well, he wasn''t here, (though with Uncle, you could never be sure) and she didn''t care who was listening.


    "I don''t like the looks of that black flower. It''s all droopy. Of course, that''s probably what you want me to think."


    Uncle''s words came to her again.


    Don''t overthink things. Nine out of ten times, a warning is a warning. You think other people don''t live and work in the places we break into? Only loners and very small groups who expect intruders will hide their secrets with tricks like that; otherwise it causes more problems than it solves. Know your target!


    Fine. She would take the warning and go through the white flower door. A quick examination told her it opened outward, from the left side. She pressed her body against the hinged side, reached over to the handle and gave it a tentative push. The door opened just a crack with no resistance or sound, allowing a bright light into the small chamber.


    Great, flood lights.


    She always avoided brightly lit areas when possible; they indicated manned defenses. She almost closed the door but decided to wait and listen instead. Targets were always over-confident in the light, and if anyone was there they would soon give themselves away.


    She stood with her ears alert, listening to the ambient noise, which was mostly rustling and buzzing. The buzzing made her nervous. Electric defenses? Wasn''t the Inside a fantasy world? She cursed Uncle once again for the total lack of advance intelligence.


    After another minute, she filtered out the background with her system and cast her hearing range as far as it would go. Nothing. She waited. Still nothing.


    Patience is everything, she reminded herself. She held herself utterly still and focused on her breath to allow time to pass easily. After a few more minutes, she noticed tiny shadows flitting against the light from the narrow opening.


    Microdrones!


    They sure don''t make this easy, she thought. That explained the buzzing. She had some countermeasures built into her system, but it all depended on the model. She brought her eyes closer to the crack, while scanning for radio frequencies and electromagnetic fields that might power the drones. Nothing.


    Without warning, one of them flew right through the crack.


    Crap! As it buzzed around the room, she quickly closed the door. Hopefully its signal strength would be too weak to alert the network. She focused on the tiny flying robot as it flew erratically around the room.


    What an inefficient pattern.


    It looked like an older generation model, back when they bothered to disguise them as insects. Some kind of bee? She looked more closely. It looked very realistic, and it slowly dawned on her that she was looking at a living creature. Not a drone at all.


    She sighed in disgust, both at the wasted effort and the creature itself. Screw it. She opened the door and walked out into a wooden structure hung with vines and flowers, her system immediately adjusting the light level for her. There was a strong floral scent in the air that her system didn''t flag as toxic or narcotic; more of the disgusting insects flew and climbed over the purple blooms that were its source. Just beyond the end of the structure was even brighter light; she could see a field of green grasses and yellow flowers flanking a path of white stone.


    Gravel. God, she hated gravel. Countless hours of practicing silent movement on all manner of surfaces flashed through her mind. While nightingale floors were the most difficult to navigate, gravel was the most irritating. With soft feet, there were always larger stones that would hit just under the arch of the foot, while with hard feet one had to move at a frustratingly slow pace. At least with a floor, there were options. You could hug the walls, swing from the ceiling or even belly slide. Gravel just sat there and tormented you.


    Still, she was beginning to think that this ''Trial'' was less about the techniques she had trained over the years since she joined Uncle¡¯s flock, and more about wandering around the way an untrained person would.


    She decided to be one notch less paranoid, and walked forth on the path, trying not to wince at the crunching noises she was making with each step. She stayed attentive to her surroundings, constantly scanning for movement or irregularities in the gently rolling grasses. Some small part of her begged to relax and enjoy the sun and breeze. They were unlike anything she had experienced Outside.


    She squashed that part of her mind down and locked it up tight. She had a job to do.


    Soon, she approached the edge of a forest. The path split, one option heading between the trees, the other running between the boundary of meadow and forest. Decisions, decisions.


    The forest was right out. Those trees looked tall and soft, like they could fall over at any moment. Or all manner of nasty things could drop on her. She took the left branch of the path, glad that it transitioned to packed dirt with only patches of stone, careful to stay on the edge farthest from the trees and any potential ambushes, listening carefully for any hints of presences lurking in the woods.


    Her caution was rewarded. A crackle of brush just inside the trees alerted her, and she was off and running along the path. She heard footsteps pursuing, heavy thumping at a slower pace than her own footfalls. Never look back unless they stop. She knew that there were no firearms Inside, but she bobbed and weaved every couple of seconds out of deeply ingrained habit. The footsteps were receding as she pulled away.


    ¡°Waaaaight,¡± a hoarse, breathless voice bellowed behind her.


    The footsteps came to a stop, and she allowed herself a quick glance back. A huge humanoid creature with tree branches attached to its back and shoulders stood on the path, hands braced on knees as it tried to recover its breath. She could see no sign of a missile weapon.


    She ran another fifty feet to be safe, and then stopped and turned. No point in running into another ambush fleeing an opponent who couldn¡¯t catch her. She saw the creature watching her from small, close-spaced eyes set in a broad pig-like face. Its skin looked brown and crusty from a distance and she felt a little involuntary shudder pass through her body.


    Seeing her stop, the creature held up one uneven hand.


    ¡°Sorry Runk scare!¡± it yelled across the distance. ¡°Runk need help!¡±


    Right, she thought. Huge ugly monster lurks at the edge of the woods springing out at travelers for help. Sounds legit.


    She kept silent, not wanting to announce her presence to listening ears. The creature looked at her expectantly, and she rolled a hand for it to continue.


    ¡°Runk lost rock.¡± Runk announced.


    Runk¡¯s not very bright, is he?


    The strange creature changed in her estimation from a threat to a mark.


    ¡°What do you need from me?¡± she called back as softly as she could.


    Runk cupped his gnarled hand to a twig sticking out of the side of his head. ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°I said, what do¡­you know what, screw it.¡± She walked back toward him, closing the distance by half. ¡°I said,¡± she began again, ¡°what do you need from me?¡±


    Runk looked at her as if she were the dim one. ¡°Find rock?¡±


    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±


    ¡°Runk give you other rocks.¡±


    Really? This was just too stupid to be a setup. If she was on the street back home and a man wanted help finding something¡­ well, she knew the dark path that led to. But this was the ¡®Trial¡¯; Runk was probably what he seemed. An idiot who had lost his rock. What she had to do was figure out the angle. This wasn¡¯t some random encounter, it was part of something larger. Something designed. What would a normal person do?


    A clannie would probably kick poor Runk¡¯s ass. A serf would run away. An assie wouldn¡¯t know what to do without a clannie to hold his hand. No, an assie would probably try to help; a lifetime of service would create strong habits after all. Too much ass kissing their clannie bosses. So, what would Magpie do?


    Case the mark. Use Uncle¡¯s three questions: Does he have valuable items? Does he have valuable information? Is he valuable to someone else?


    Was it worth finding out the answers? His presence in the Trial told her the answer to that question.


    She approached to what she estimated to be the closest safe distance. She noticed he was wearing torn cloth pants with pockets and a small hip pouch. His gnarled, wooden anatomy confused her sense of what he might be holding, but she thought he might have something in his right pocket, and the hip pouch looked full and heavy.


    ¡°Show me what you got, Runk.¡±


    He looked at her with a vacant expression.


    She tried again. ¡°What¡¯s in the pouch, my friend?¡± She put a pleasant smile on her face. Not too sleazy now, just the right amount of friendly. There.


    Runk straightened up and his face lit up with a broad smile, answering her own.


    ¡°You help Runk?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of important things to do now. I¡¯d love to help you, but¡­¡± she studied his expression, waiting for the moment disappointment bloomed. This is just too easy. This guy¡¯s like a toddler or something. ¡°¡­I¡¯m really going to be in trouble if I¡¯m late.¡± She put on a sad expression.


    Runk was not discouraged. ¡°It not take long. You nice and Runk give you lots of rocks.¡±


    ¡°Show me the rocks, honey.¡± Am I laying it on too thick? she wondered.


    Runk opened the clasp on his pouch and began pulling out rocks. Smooth gray river rocks. Hunks of white and yellow quartz. Something that looked like a hunk of mud.


    Looks like a ¡®no¡¯ to the valuable items. Though there¡¯s always his special rock¡­


    ¡°Those are lovely, Runk. What did your special rock look like?¡±


    His eyes widened, and he whispered, ¡°Shiny. Blue.¡±


    That sounded good to Magpie. ¡°Okay, Runk. If I help you, I want you to walk ahead of me on my journey and scare away any dangerous creatures. I will hold onto your rock until we part ways. How does that sound?¡±


    Another blank stare.


    Take two.


    ¡°I find rock. You do what I say. Then you get rock.¡±


    This time he nodded, causing the leafy branches on his head and neck to rustle.


    ¡°Now, where did you lose the rock?¡±


    ¡°It sunk in pond. Runk floats.¡±


    ¡°I can see how that might be an issue.¡±


    Runk really was a strange creature; an unfortunate cross between a pig, a man and a tree. Dark mossy skin like thick bark covered his body. Small, leafy twigs jutted randomly from all over him, while several long branches with full foliage grew out of off his shoulders and curved over his head, shading him from the hot late-afternoon sun. He has a built in ghillie suit, she thought.


    ¡°What kind of creature are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Orusk,¡± he replied with a snort.


    Now it was her turn to stare blankly.


    He tried again. ¡°Orc. Boar Tribe.¡±


    She felt confused. Orcs didn¡¯t usually sprout tree branches, as far as she knew. ¡°What about the¡­¡± She gestured towards the leafy bower sprouting from his shoulders.


    He took a moment to get her meaning, then wiggled his branches to and fro. ¡°Runk is tree-touched. Tree spirits take away all his mad, give pretty branches.¡±


    Well, that explained that.


    She looked up at the trees. So far they hadn''t shown signs of falling without warning.


    ¡°Take me to the pond, Runk. I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±


    She followed him through the forest, dodging branches and brambles, until they came to a pool of water nestled up against a rock outcropping. A small stream trickled out of it, though nothing fed into it that she could see. Runk stopped and pointed at the water.


    ¡°Stone fell in there.¡±


    Magpie considered the pool. It was no more than twenty feet across, with clear dark water and no visible bottom. She was confident in her swimming skills; Uncle had made sure there was no circumstance for which she was unprepared. She could swim decently and hold her breath for several minutes.


    This is not real, she told herself. Even if you drown, it doesn¡¯t matter.


    Though she really didn¡¯t want to die if she could at all avoid it.


    Might as well take the plunge.


    ¡°Hey Runk, how big is your stone, anyway? And how will I know which one it is?¡±


    ¡°It not big,¡± he replied. ¡°Maybe small hand? And it blue and sparkle.¡±


    Sparkle sounds promising, she thought.


    In a flash, she stripped off her tunic and dove in. The water was cold, and her hands and feet started to ache as soon as the initial shock of ice wore off.


    I¡¯ve only got a few minutes before this will be unbearable.


    With that in mind, she took a breath and began to kick down. The cold water pressed into her ears and her system began to compensate for the low light as she swam down, searching for a bottom.


    It¡¯s not real, she repeated to herself.


    Shafts of afternoon sun caught the upper few feet of the water, providing just enough ambient light to highlight the darkness all around. The walls of the pool were receding as she descended, which did nothing to help her growing claustrophobic anxiety. Not going to die, she reassured her beating heart.


    Twenty seconds of descent served to compress her sense of time to an eternal present. Another ten seconds and she could hardly remember what it was like to be warm and dry, as if those sensations belonged to some parallel universe Magpie, not the current cold, dark and wet one. Her heart pounded in her ears, which were popping painfully with ever few feet of descent.


    This sucks.


    She was just about to turn back, when she saw something glimmering far below. She knew that this would be her one attempt; she couldn¡¯t imagine being able to force herself to undergo this a second time, so she pushed herself to continue, kicking and twisting through the void.


    That was when she felt a cold, long fingers wrap around her ankle and squeeze.


    She kicked out wildly with her other leg and connected with something gelatinous that snapped and gave under her foot. Any air that had been in her lungs was long gone after her exhalation of surprise, and she turned in the water and struck for the diffuse light of the surface opening.


    I really wish I had blood bugs, she thought in an oddly clear moment of reflection on her predicament.


    She looked up to gauge the distance and was shocked. Not only was the surface impossibly far away but floating in the water above her was a dark diaphanous form, an inky blotch with trailing tendrils that flowed in all directions around a skeletal human form.


    I¡¯m never going to sleep again, she realized, as she floundered in the water.


    She knew there was no way she was getting out of this without a death, but every instinct screamed for her to flee from the floating nightmare, so she kicked for the faint glow on the bottom once more.


    It had only been a minute or so since she started her dive, but her oxygen reserves were being rapidly depleted by the combination of activity and fear. At least I can see if that stupid rock was worth it. Her lungs were burning and the urge to breathe was powerful.


    It brought back memories of the enclosed tub where she had learned to hold her breath. It had a top that could slide shut, enclosing her in utter liquid darkness for a set duration, a little longer every day. When the lid opened, her trainer expected her to slide silently from the water and perform a mental or physical task, with no dramatic breathing or other display of weakness. Of all the training she had done under Uncle¡¯s discerning gaze it was the one that came closest to breaking her, to exiling her from the flock. She could still vividly remember the time when he had explained the consequences for failure to complete the training.


    The memory of Uncle¡¯s displeasure gave her a new burst of energy. Maybe she could kick off the bottom and get past it? Then another creature swooped just behind her, leaving a trail of inky bubbles in its wake.


    They¡¯re just too fast, she thought.


    The blue glow from the bottom was close now, close enough that she could resolve it into a large faceted gemstone. With one last push, she grabbed it, even as a curtain of darkness was descending over her vision. She picked it from the rocky bottom of the watery crevasse and pulled it into her chest.


    I wonder if I can bring things with me when I die? was her last thought before the darkness won.


    Waking was a strange process. First, she felt cold, and then felt the hard presence of a faceted rock in her hands, which were clasped over her heart. I guess you can take it with you, she thought. Then she opened her eyes.


    Looking down at her from only feet away was a distorted skull encased in dark translucent jelly. The eyes moved within the sockets, squirmed even, as if dark leeches had taken residence. She screamed and closed her eyes.


    Just finish dying already! Please, please, please let this be over before it starts to eat me.


    She flinched and curled into the tightest ball she could. She felt a touch on her bare arm, a gentle, slimy caress and she screamed again.


    Uncle would not be proud, she thought.


    But nothing in her training had prepared her for gelatinous skeleton monsters attacking her in dark frigid water at the bottom of hundred-foot crevasses. She was sure Uncle would have trained her for this if he had thought of it though.


    Another thought occurred to her. Did I just scream? Shortly followed by¡­ Am I breathing?


    She was breathing.


    Huh. That¡¯s different. The frigid water pressed around her body, but her breathing felt normal. No water up her nose either, which was nice. Still waiting to be eaten alive though. She cracked open an eye, hardly daring to look. Now, several of the horrible skeleton things floated passively in the dark waters, the wispy tendrils of their inky flesh waving gently in the unseen currents, wriggling eyes surveying her.


    She also noticed a faint blue glow surrounding her, from the stone she was holding, but also emanating from the skin of her hands and arms. She looked down at the stone to see a spiderweb of glowing particles moving out from it, covering her chest and arms and spreading the subtle glow. The gem was noticeably smaller.


    She suppressed the urge to panic. Even if the effects of the stone stopped when it was gone, she still had a minute or two to escape the situation. In the last few moments, two more of the jellied skeletons had drifted to the scene, but none were making a move to attack. She crouched, preparing to kick from the rocks below and make an attempt to break out, and the drifting assembly moved in concert, swirling into a barrier of bones and inky flesh above her.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± she cried in frustration, her escape thwarted. The words felt normal leaving her mouth but came to her ears as a distorted underwater burble. Oddly, no bubbles came out as she spoke.


    A hissing noise filled the waters in reply, a drawn-out bubbling sibilant, followed by a breathy aspiration.


    ¡°Ssssssss aaaaaaaah,¡±


    Just when I thought this couldn¡¯t get any creepier. Magpie¡¯s level of horror at the unfolding scenario had maxed out some time ago, and now she felt an almost surreal detachment.


    ¡°I need to get back to the surface!¡± she pleaded.


    ¡°Nnnnnnnnnn,¡± came the humming reply.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it that¡¯s a no?¡±


    She waved the hand holding the stone at them in frustration and the closest creatures contracted their wispy flesh filaments around themselves.


    ¡°Don¡¯t like the stone, huh?¡±


    With a burst of movement, she lunged in the opposite direction, plunging the hand holding the stone directly into cold gelatinous flesh. A burst of bright blue light illuminated the skeletal figure from within as the flesh surrounding her hand dissolved and receded from the stone like plastic wrap from a flame, sending a burst of hissing bubbles toward the surface. The injured creature pulled its remaining flesh together in a contraction that sent it flying away from her through the water. She felt the stone shrink in her hand; it was now half the size it had been when she first picked it up.


    She knew what she had to do.


    ¡°Here I come, boys!¡± she yelled, and pushed off from the bottom with the stone held above her head, like some ancient superhero. The creatures wriggled and darted to avoid the glowing gem, and she shot up through the water like a glowing blue torpedo, kicking furiously to dislodge their grasping attempts at her unprotected legs.


    About halfway to the surface, she was forced to turn and wave the stone wildly at the trailing tendrils that had wrapped around her ankles and stopped her progress. She could see dozens of the floating skeletons in the waters below her, working their inky flesh through the water to propel themselves like a school of horrible jellyfish.


    For the next minute she swung the rapidly shrinking stone to drive them back repeatedly, gaining a few precious feet each time. Just as the stone dissolved completely, she reached the first rays of light percolating through the waters. The glow on her body was lost in the light from the surface, and she began to feel drops of water entering her mouth and nose.


    With one final push, she broke the surface of the ¡®pond¡¯ and sucked in a huge breath of forest air. A quick glance at the waters near her feet showed only clear water, with not a hint of the inhabitants of the dark.


    Well, that goes in my top ten craptastic experiences, she thought. She pulled herself over to the edge, where Runk was waiting expectantly.


    ¡°Rock?¡± he inquired.


    Magpie had to let him down gently. ¡°Sorry Runk, I couldn¡¯t find it. The water was just too deep.¡±She really didn¡¯t feel like explaining the horrid details. ¡°Hey, how did your rock end up in there, anyway?¡± she said as she pulled herself from the water.


    ¡°Runk too sad to talk about it.¡± Immediately forgetting his previous statement, he continued, ¡°Runk likes to float on the water. Special rock fell out of pocket.¡±


    He broke into tears, weeping with extravagant moans and inhalations, his leaves rustling with each heaving sob. Magpie felt embarrassed by the display.


    ¡°So, anyway,¡± she tried to squeeze in, ¡°I need to get going now. Would you rather come with me, or give me some of your other rocks?¡± She wasn¡¯t ready to give up on Runk just yet. After all, his special rock really had been pretty special.


    Runk turned his bleary eyes to her. ¡°You want rocks? I take you to good rock place.¡± He seemed completely immune to the notion of her own fictional urgency. Brightening, he went on, ¡°Maybe find new special rock for Runk! Come, follow!¡±


    With that, he turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving Magpie no time to decide her next course of action. Guess I¡¯ll follow him. At least he¡¯ll flush out any nasty creatures. Hope the trees don¡¯t fall.


    ***


    As it turned out, Runk was no good at flushing out nasty creatures. Something about his tree-touched nature made predatory animals ignore him as threat or food, while his movements through the woods attracted their attention to the morsel trailing behind him.


    First there was the big cat-thing lurking in the branches of a large tree Runk was passing under, which Magpie noticed, thanks to her system¡¯s enhancement of her ability to detect subtle movement and outlines. She watched as it ignored the large tree-orc, its eyes already fixed upon her as a future meal.


    She avoided a confrontation by the simple expedient of circling around the tree holding the cat-thing. It was much bigger than the cats she had seen on the streets and abandoned buildings of her home, but not so big she was afraid to confront it on the ground if it decided to follow her. After that encounter, she armed herself with a decent stick to fend off any opponents of the tooth and claw variety.


    Magpie was very well trained in unarmed combat, as well as knives, hand guns, and staff. She was passably familiar with most other weapon formats; part of her training was in improvised weapons, so she could pick up just about anything and hold her own. Her absolute favorite was a modified chigiriki Uncle had designed for her, a hollow pipe with a weighted chain passing through the center that could emerge from either end. It was a complicated weapon; practicing with the chains whirling and flowing around her body as she leapt and spun took her to a place of pure focus and flow unlike any other activity.


    But a stick would do for now.


    The next attack took place as they were halfway up a steep forested hillside. Runk didn¡¯t seem to believe in following paths, or the terrain, or anything other than going into a straight line until he encountered something impassable. Magpie was pulling herself up a particularly steep area by going from tree to tree when the wolf leapt from the slope above her. She heard it inhale sharply just before it sprang upon her and she swung around the small tree to which she clung before she was consciously aware of the danger.


    Luckily for her, the wolf got more tree than human, though its claws tore off a strip of skin on the arm still holding the narrow trunk. She brought her stick around the other side of the tree and hit the wolf¡¯s hindquarters as hard as she could at the bad angle, causing it to yelp and flinch away. It was a mangy, dank smelling thing, about the size of the big dogs she was familiar with from her training, so after the initial surprise she handled it easily, hitting and poking it in its sensitive areas every time it gathered itself for another lunge, until it gave up and fled down the hill.


    ¡°Never just one of those,¡± observed Runk, who had watched the fight from his perch up the hill with a placid expression.


    Magpie snorted. ¡°Thanks for the tip, dude. Feel free to help next time.¡±


    Runk looked at her calmly. ¡°Trees don¡¯t like Runk to fight. That¡¯s why they took his mad.¡±


    ¡°I hope you get termites,¡± she replied.


    ***


    Night fell quickly under the dense canopy, bringing with it a host of unfamiliar sounds and a sense of heighted danger for Magpie. Not long after the sun set, Runk set his feet and stopped abruptly, causing Magpie to freeze and scan the area for enemies. Eventually, she picked up a low buzzing rasp that turned out to be Runk snoring. Guess it¡¯s another side-effect of being tree touched, she thought.


    Upon approach, she saw roots extending into the soil from his calves and ankles. It was both creepy and inconvenient, she decided. What was she going to do all night?


    She had a feeling that the local wildlife would be out for her blood; just like the neighborhood where she grew up, the most dangerous predators were nocturnal. She took a moment to search through Runk¡¯s pouch and pockets and took several stones that might be useful for her defense; two smooth river rocks for throwing and an angular piece of slate to sharpen a stick or two. After gathering some more materials, she scampered into the branches of a tree that topped a ridge near Runk¡¯s resting place.


    She settled in for a long night of alternating between watching the ground for threats and hacking at the end of the sticks she had gathered to sharpen. By the time the first moon rose high enough to cast its light on her perch, she had made two crude spears to go with the staff she had used before. The moonlight brought with it her first visitors as well, when several gliding forms lit upon her tree in the branches above her.


    She got a good look at them when one of them swung around to the bottom of a tree limb that projected at a forty-five-degree angle to her own. It hung upside down from hook-like claws on the fold of its gray wings, supplemented by many long, segmented legs. She heard little ticking noises as it clambered along the branch, the sound of its many claws digging into the bark of the tree, and she realized that the night air was full of the sound, in her tree and those nearby. When it was halfway along the branch, it turned its head and looked at her with four large dull black eyes; she could see a short spike where its mouth might plausibly go, and as she watched, a small drop of fluid formed on the end of the spike and dropped to the forest floor.


    Oh god, it¡¯s looking at me and drooling. This is bad.


    Suddenly, her secure position up in the tree felt more like an invitation to dine. A soft fluttering sound, just over the threshold of her augmented hearing was her only warning of the first attack, and she flattened herself to the branch to avoid another of the gliding creatures at the last moment. Its trailing legs skimmed over her back as it narrowly missed grappling her, and she felt an odd pressure through the back of her tunic as the creature looped around below her, almost as if tethered to her branch. Then she saw the thin line of webbing connected to its abdomen and realized what was happening.


    Inside, we need to have a talk about the creepy shit you keep throwing my way. Giant flying spider bats? Really?


    While she was internally grumbling, she was in motion. It would do her no good to stay in place dodging the things if it ended with her tied onto the branch by their webs. At least if she was on the ground she had mobility and leverage. She was thirty feet above the forest floor, too high up to jump safely, so she scrambled toward the trunk, feeling a light resistance from the single strand of webbing as it stretched and snapped. The ticking noises were all around her now; the creatures were converging on her location.


    She abandoned all caution and lunged for the trunk, allowing herself to fall and slide from branch to branch and crash into the ground in a mostly uncontrolled descent. Thankfully, the area under the tree was soft from generations of pine needles, so she was able to half roll as her legs struck and gain her feet without major injury. Any minor injuries would have to wait until she was no longer on the menu.


    Dodging and weaving with a sharpened stick in each hand she ran without any goal other than escape from the spider bats which swooped down at her from all angles. Her body was covered with thick strands of sticky silk, and though it currently did little to hamper her movements, she could tell that it was only a matter of time.


    She began to move the sticks in a swirling redonda, another of her favorite fighting styles, holding her hands higher than she normally would, spinning and intercepting the falling webs. As she did, she took the measure of her enemies.


    The creatures were not particularly agile in the air, more gliders than fliers. She noticed that they preferred to land on a tree trunk and climb to regain height after dive-bombing her, though she could also hear heavy flapping sounds from those that chose to gain height in the air. A dozen or so of the things stalked her from the air and the trees. They kept pace with her easily as she wove through the woods in constant motion to avoid further entanglement.


    Choosing her moment, she dove into a roll, tucked her sticks, and came up throwing one of Runk¡¯s polished river stones. It struck her target on its wing membrane and tore through, leaving a hole in what she now realized was finely woven silk spread between two branching legs. The spider bat veered off to the side and clasped onto a tree trunk just above the ground, already orienting itself to climb back into the canopy. Before it could ascend Magpie was on it, smashing its head and body and knocking it to the forest floor.


    Grounded, the creature was not so intimidating; its body was half the size of her own and its legs and ¡®wings¡¯ thrashed in disarray as it tried to right itself. She cartwheeled over it and planted both sticks in its abdomen as she passed, her weight resting on the sticks just long enough to drive the sharpened points through its exoskeleton before ripping out in a spray of ichor as she came back to her feet.


    That¡¯s one down, she thought. They¡¯re not so tough on the ground.


    Her sticks were becoming unwieldy from a combination of webbing and spider bat juices, and she was pretty sure one had cracked during her acrobatic stabbing maneuver, so she kicked off a tree trunk to reverse her momentum and threw the broken stick at another strafing flyer, successfully fouling its wing and bringing it down somewhere out of her sight.


    I need a clearing. And another stick.


    Luckily, there was no shortage of sticks on the forest floor, and she fell into a rhythm, running, dodging, and rolling to pick up and throw any stick she could find. After a minute, the battle had turned into an active stand-off. Her thrown sticks could disrupt the spider bats¡¯ fragile woven wings, but she didn¡¯t have time to follow up before they climbed back into the trees to repair them.


    It¡¯s only a matter of time before I screw up, she thought.


    Naturally, it was at the moment of her thought that she twisted an ankle on the uneven forest floor and rolled herself into a tree trunk. The impact came halfway through the motion, and she ended up sprawled on her upper back and neck with her legs over her head, trapped against the tree. In the split-second of her disorientation she was tagged by several sticky strands, and as she tried to gain her feet, she found herself attached to the trunk by her upraised legs.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    She cried out in anger and frustration with herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Lose focus, lose freedom.


    Uncle had been drilling that into her head since he took her off the streets at the age of eight. Now she understood why he wanted her on the Inside. All the training runs and jobs in the world couldn¡¯t have challenged her abilities like fighting these stupid spider bats in a dark forest.


    More strands fell around her as she jerked herself up at the waist and ripped the sticky silk off her legs, pushing off with one foot into a tucked backward roll. She reached her feet and saw a spider bat on a trajectory to grab her. Before she could react, a huge form swooped down from above and grabbed it out of the air, crushing the frail creature in one enormous talon and swooping back up. She registered white and gray feathers and a wing span that barely fit among the trees before it disappeared from sight.


    Looks like the big guys have arrived.


    She had figured it was only a matter of time before larger creatures were drawn in by the commotion. Thankfully it was something that ate spider bats and not her. At least not yet.


    The other spider bats vanished into the canopy, and she bolted for an area of the forest with densely packed trees just ahead, which she thought might protect her from the larger airborne predator. No sooner had she reached the shelter when she heard a screeching wail from somewhere in front of her, and then another off to her right. Yet another type of creature coming to see what all the fuss was.


    She froze, listening for movement in the now silent woods. Sweat trickled down her back, stinging the many scrapes and abrasions covering her skin from her various tumbles. She forced her heart to slow and her breath to deepen, feeling a wave of dizziness before her body adapted to the new state. If the creatures hunted by sight and sound, she might be able to survive.


    Her hearing expanded outward. About one hundred meters behind her, she could hear the little ticks of a spider bat¡¯s claws as it changed its position. From the front and right, where the wailing sounds had originated, she heard the rustling of tree branches and an occasional thud or light scraping sound. Whatever they are, they¡¯re moving through the trees. Swinging from branch to branch?


    Another wail pierced the night, now about twenty meters in front of her. The answering screech came from behind her and to the right. Still just two. They move fast. She repressed the urge to break for it, choosing instead to silently crouch within the light undergrowth.


    Never thought I¡¯d miss the bushes from earlier. Eyes down, break the silhouette. Utterly still. Hold. Hope they don¡¯t smell me.


    She held her breath and listened, keeping her eyes glued to the forest floor. Eyes were dangerous. Collected is reflected, was another of Uncle¡¯s sayings. If she could see, her eyes were reflecting light. On the Outside, she had special lenses that solved the issue, but those were only for real jobs; Uncle would never allow her such a prop for training.


    The sounds of the approaching creature grew more distinct. She could hear as it grappled from tree to tree, moving within the lower branches about fifteen feet from the ground. As it passed her, just to the left and above her location, she could hear its breath, and fought the temptation to catch a glance. From the amount of noise and the rustling of the branches, she thought it was about the size of a large person. After another minute, and one more wailing exchange with its companion, it was well behind her. She allowed herself to breath again.


    The rest of the night was an exercise in stealth and patience. She moved as quietly and slowly as she could, searching out new weapons and looking for a hiding spot. It was ironic, she reflected, that the only place she felt safe at the moment was the ground. At the beginning of the long night she had anticipated that there might be more wolves, or something similar anyway. Now she knew that every level of the forest had its own threats.


    Eventually, she settled on a stand of closely spaced saplings that had grown up in a tiny clearing created by the fall of several enormous trees. The roots of the fallen giants had brought the earth up into several walls taller than her as they fell, and the dense undergrowth served as a decent shelter. She remained fully alert until the sun rose, modulating her cortisol and orexin levels as needed.


    With the new dawn came the challenge of finding her way back to Runk. Even with her highly trained situational awareness and special skills, it had been a frantic and stressful time, and it took her over an hour to find her way to the scene of the previous night¡¯s struggles. She finally found him as he was pulling his roots from the soil and stretching his arms above his head.


    ¡°Not good light here,¡± he said as she approached. ¡°Feel sleepy.¡±


    Magpie repressed the urge to beat him with her newest staff. Biting back her irritation, she asked, ¡°Are we close to the rock place?¡±


    ¡°Just little hills now.¡±


    Three arduous hours of climbing later, the forest was long behind them. They were climbing through fields of loose shifting rock and boulders, punctuated by steep rock slopes and cliffs. Magpie could only marvel at Runk¡¯s inherent stability. While she had to watch every step to avoid loose rocks and dangerously slipping gravel, he somehow walked straight up the hill, oblivious to the treacherous materials underfoot. When confronted by a near vertical surface, he would turn just a bit and traverse at an angle, somehow finding a footing for his bulky body in places she was forced to climb with her hands and toes.


    Must be a tree thing, she thought.


    ¡°Almost there,¡± he announced placidly. ¡°Gets breezy.¡±


    Magpie had traveled with Runk long enough to automatically distrust his opinions of such things, or at least to expect vast understatements. Sure enough, as they crested the next ridge, she began to hear a sustained moaning noise from just ahead of them. The moaning became a howling as they reached the top edge of a narrow canyon cutting deep through the hills.


    She could see that the canyon was acting as a giant collection funnel for the prevailing breeze, forcing it through pillars of curved and twisted rock. Runk walked over the edge without hesitation and fell through the air. Magpie watched agape, as he was blown down the canyon, taken by the wind as he fell. He struck several of the stone formations during his uncontrolled diagonal fall and left her line of sight before he landed. If he landed. For all she knew, he was still blowing down the canyon.


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    Upon further examination, Magpie determined that the walls of the canyon bowed out beneath the rim where she stood. She could see several places on the other side where the top edge had collapsed into the depths, creating a more vertical descent, but didn¡¯t see any such areas on her side. The canyon looked to be about a hundred feet deep, and about thirty to fifty feet wide at the top.


    While she was a great climber, able to scale almost anything given time and tools, her experience in natural settings was quite small. Even with little experience, she could guess that the rock walls were not stable, and not trustworthy, even if they had been vertical. Could she survive what Runk had done?


    Throwing a variety of stones into the windy fissure gave her system some data to work with. The wind did make the fall less dangerous, theoretically, mostly due to changing the angle of her velocity; it would be akin to falling onto a very steep hillside. A steep hillside with stone pillars on it. Assuming she didn¡¯t hit pillars on the way down or blow into the walls.


    She was confident in her ability to fall and roll onto hard surfaces; her training had taken her up to twenty-foot drops, and Uncle insisted she would be able to manage even greater heights with practice. The biggest danger was loss of control. She was facile with a variety of wing suits and gliders, mostly from simulations and trips between rooftops, though Uncle had once arranged for her to fly from a high-altitude balloon. The problem here was that she had nothing even close to a wing suit.


    Should have caught some of those spider-bats, I guess.


    After consideration, she decided that this was a legitimate, though risky option. It was her setting, more than anything else that helped her decide to make the attempt. After all, the Trial was practically begging her to follow Runk, and the worst that could happen was that she die temporarily.


    Uncle will kill me for real if I die over something so dumb though.


    Pushing thoughts of possible consequences from her mind, she mapped out possible routes, throwing handfuls of grit and pebbles to follow the path of the wind from various locations along the rim. After another thirty minutes of experimentation, she backed away from the side.


    Here goes nothing!


    She ran toward the edge as fast as she could, planted one last foot, and soared out over the narrow canyon, legs together and arms spread, twisting in the air to angle her body lengthwise. For one glorious, timeless moment she hung in the air, the sun on her back and the wind in her ears. Then she fell.


    The wind took her after the first twenty feet, pressing on her back and squeezing her against the fall, then squirting her forward with a roaring rumble. She used every ounce of strength and experience to remain angled down the canyon, allowing her arms to go back past her shoulders. She knew intellectually that she was nowhere near terminal velocity, but the close canyon walls made her feel like she had never fallen faster as they blurred by, and the first set of pillars was past before she knew it. Her eyes burned and blurred as her speed increased, more pillars and arches flashing past her. Almost there! The ground beneath her approached; through her watering eyes, she noticed it was flat, a floor with large square tiles.


    Suddenly she was hit by a powerful warm updraft. She had a split second to wonder where it could possibly be coming from and then she hit and tucked and rolled. And rolled. And rolled some more, losing skin as she tumbled along the hard, warm sandstone.


    And then she was still, though her head was still spinning. She opened her eye; the walls and a small sliver of sky spun around her. Runk¡¯s grotesque leafy face appeared above her, framed in her spinning vision.


    ¡°Almost there,¡± he said, looking down at her with a placid expression. In reply, she threw up on his feet.


    While recovering from her dizziness, Magpie took a few moments to enjoy how fast her body healed on the Inside and observe her surroundings. The bloody scrapes and abrasions from her fall were shrinking by the minute. She inspected the flat expanse of floor lining the bottom of this end of the canyon; it was dotted with thousands of one-inch diameter holes, each furnishing a strong warm draft. She realized that this was the source of the updraft she had felt just before impact. It hadn¡¯t been enough to make much of a difference for her descent, but if she had used a wingsuit or small glider, it could have allowed a more graceful landing.


    It¡¯s got to be on purpose, she thought, wondering what type of people would be willing to regularly take the harrowing plunge through the windy fissure. Whoever they were, they sure put a lot of effort into the landing area.


    The canyon narrowed further and turned into a cave just a few feet from where she had come to a rest. Soon, she and Runk headed into the dark space, and then up a narrow stair that branched off from the main passage. The steps were very worn and broken in places, but Magpie could tell they had once been even and well-constructed. After ascending steeply for twenty feet, they began to spiral up through a narrow column in the rock.


    I¡¯m going to be so pissed if this just comes out on the other side of the canyon, she thought.


    She kept her hand on the wall of the spiral staircase as they ascended, and the dim light faded into utter darkness. After another few turns, light began to return, and soon they emerged in a well-lit chamber with narrow windows on one side overlooking a grassy plain dotted with clumps of trees.


    She would have assumed it was a watch tower of sorts, if it weren¡¯t for the massive sculpture consuming the center of the room. Four animals carved of black stone flowed around each other and up to the ceiling, where they met a cluster of descending carved roots. Or were they tentacles? Either way, the statue gave her an uneasy feeling, despite the elegance of its composition.


    Runk gestured towards the sculpture.


    ¡°Rocks are on that.¡± He walked around to the opposite side and began to pry at something with his gnarled hands. ¡°Rocks are stuck,¡± he added.


    Magpie moved to join him and saw that three of the animals had colorful fist-sized gems integrated into their forms. A lizard held a ruby in its front claw, an eagle held a diamond in its beak, and an oddly stretched goat had an emerald between its horns, where Runk was busy trying to extract it. Moving around further, she saw a long fish with an empty cavity in its mouth. She also saw a pile of crushed bones lying on the floor.


    ¡°Umm, Runk¡­ how did you get the blue stone before?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Blue rock was on floor.¡± he replied. ¡°Runk found it before trees took away his mad. Was scouting for tribe.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should stop-,¡± she began to say, as he got the stone wiggling. Before she could continue her thought, there was a grinding noise and the stone tentacles above the statue began to descend, uncoiling and writhing in slow motion.


    ¡°Watch out!¡± she cried. Runk pulled on the stone fruitlessly one last time and looked over at her as the tentacles continued their descent, gaining speed and vitality in their movements.


    ¡°Above you!¡± she cried in exasperation. He continued to look at her for several seconds, then a look of comprehension crossed his face and he looked up at the slowly writhing stone tentacles that were less than a foot from his shoulder branches.


    ¡°This new,¡± he said, craning his neck. ¡°Eye and mou¡ª"


    Magpie never found out what he was going to say. The tentacles descended to the floor, covering Runk and the statue in one great writhing heave. The room shook from the impact, and she heard unpleasant cracking and crunching sounds from within the mass of heaving stone.


    After a moment, a green fluid began to seep around the edges of the tentacles and Magpie looked away, sickened by the sight. Her back pressed up against the wall, she sidled toward the door, forcing her eyes back to the site of Runk¡¯s demise. She was prepared to bolt if the tentacles showed any signs of coming for her, though so far they had stayed tightly clumped around the sculpture in the center of the room.


    As she approached the exit, she realized that the door had been sealed off while her attention was on the tentacles and Runk, a stone slab dropping neatly down two grooves set back in the doorway. She kicked herself for failing to notice them on the way in.


    While she was discovering this, the tentacles had stilled somewhat, which gave her hope that the mechanism of the trap would eventually reset. She decided to wait, as the only other option was exploring the windows for egress, and she had no wish to re-activate the trap with further movement.


    This explains the blue stone, she thought. The previous thief must have gotten it loose before being crushed. Then Runk found it lying on the floor and took it without activating anything. Despite Runk¡¯s horrible death, she hadn¡¯t given up on obtaining one or more of the remaining gems, though the magical nature of the stone tentacles coming to life gave her pause. She understood mechanical and technological traps very well; they had been a big part of her training for years. Magical traps were an unknown, of course, but still¡­


    A trap¡¯s a trap. Condition and effect.


    The condition was obviously any attempt to remove a gemstone. The effect was the descent of the crushing tentacles. Traps were only powerful if you were ignorant of one or both. They were vulnerable to circumvention once you understood them. She decided to treat the magical nature of the trap as technology.


    Motion or proximity detector on the stone. Not easily triggered, so it doesn¡¯t need a simple deactivation method either.


    If the trap was sudden, she would expect that there was an easy way to turn it off.


    Uncle had taught her to always think of the people who used the security, not the security itself. When people had lived here, people used this chamber. Somebody probably cleaned the chamber. Either they had something like a system code that allowed the trap to identify intruders, or they had to make the trap less sensitive so that it didn¡¯t crush the janitor. Since Runk had tugged on the stone for a while before anything happened, she assumed that it was the latter.


    The only other possibility was that age and wear had made the trap less effective, which was an important consideration. If that was the case, she would need to be prepared for its next activation to be quite a bit quicker.


    As she sat and pondered, the tentacles began to withdraw back to the ceiling, leaving a dripping smear of Runk¡¯s fluids on the floor and statue. Runk¡¯s body was nowhere to be seen, other than a single dripping leafy branch protruding from the clustered tentacles, and she assumed that it had been brought up to the ceiling, purposefully or by accident she couldn¡¯t guess.


    That the trap reset itself was expected but important information nonetheless. Less expected was that the slab blocking the door did not move. Guess it¡¯s time to inspect the windows.


    The windows were a fine way to exit the room, if you didn¡¯t mind a sixty-foot drop. The wall below the opening was smooth for about a foot, then ended, curving sharply under and out of sight. Above the window was another ten feet of smooth stone. The ground below the window was full of boulders- there would be no rolling out of that fall.


    It was a good trap, she decided, as long as the victim had no rope or other climbing tools. She regretted leaving her staff back at the canyon¡¯s edge for a moment, but pushed the thought aside. There was no way she could have brought it. Although, she could have thrown it in.


    Shit. That would have worked, too.


    She walked over to the pile of old bone fragments and kicked at them. They were held together by some old cloth or leather.


    Skin, said a little voice in the back of her mind, a crushed body sucked dry and left to time.


    She ignored her thought with a shudder and put herself into a dispassionate analytical state she had mastered over the years, partly through her time living on the streets of the city, partly with the help of her system. The mindset allowed her to avoid inconvenient feelings such as disgust and remorse and focus on the pragmatic necessities of survival. Uncle didn¡¯t like it when she ¡®went cold¡¯.


    ¡°You need to stay human to understand people, to fool people, to out-think people,¡± he would say. ¡°Our power comes from feeling what they feel, understanding their needs and desires. I¡¯m not training you to be a machine; I¡¯m training you to be a better human. Feel what you feel and learn to use it.¡±


    Good advice, she was sure. But nothing beat the comfort of the cold, and she was pretty sure that whatever she was up against here wasn¡¯t human anyway, not anymore, if ever. After all, she was essentially in the mind of a vast machine, pitting her wits against an intelligence that had as much in common with the man on the street as she did with a cockroach. She glanced up at the fluid still dripping from between the nestling tentacles. Speaking of cockroaches¡­ She had actually allowed herself to feel bad for Runk, allowed an attachment to a piece of code, a meaningless figment. Typical human weakness, she observed.


    Kneeling, she ripped apart the bundle of bony fragments with both hands, searching for any tools or items that may have been on the body as it was crushed. She was hoping for a small knife, or other utensil, but what she found was a bent and tarnished silver ring and a teardrop shaped pendant of polished black glass. The ring fit on her index finger, and she tucked the pendant in the pocket of her tunic, having no other way to secure it. The bones themselves were brittle splinters, no good for anything. Except going under fingernails, her cold voice commented.


    Leaving the old body, she turned her attention to the only other possible source of tools in the room.


    What was left of Runk was trapped well above her head; the ceiling was a good fifteen feet up, and the tentacles descended to meet the sculpture a few feet below that. She touched the sculpture tentatively, ready to roll to the farthest corner of the room at the first sign of tentacular activity. Nothing happened, so she set about probing the threshold of activation for the trap, gradually applying more force to different parts of the statue while carefully avoiding the gemstones. As she suspected, the main body of the sculpture was completely safe to handle, and even climb.


    Next, she scaled up the fish-eel thing, following its winding form around the other animals, until she was close enough to touch the tentacles. She struck one firmly with the palm of her hand and immediately vaulted off the top of the statue, dropping and rolling to the floor to break her fall. The dramatic action was meaningless, as the tentacles remained inert, though she noted that the tentacle itself had been warmer than the rest of the statue.


    She repeated the action, this time pulling on Runk¡¯s branch as it stuck out from a small gap, gently at first, and then with increasing violence as she tried to break it from the stone¡¯s grip. All that she managed was to strip some of the leaves; the branch itself was too flexible to break, and too tough to tear. So much for that idea. She hadn¡¯t been sure what she would use the stick for, but she figured having a tool of any sort would create more options. With that notion failing to pan out, she dropped to the floor and inspected the gemstones.


    At this point, she had two choices, wait, or try to get a gem. While she had virtually infinite patience in her current cold state, she couldn¡¯t see much utility in waiting. If the door didn¡¯t raise when the rest of the trap reset, it was either broken or designed to hold an intruder prisoner. Either way, it was unlikely to reset itself while she waited.


    The gemstones were held by the physical structure of the stone settings. It would be simplicity itself to remove them with a hammer and chisel. She wondered briefly how the sculptor had gotten the gems into their positions, but decided it wasn¡¯t a helpful chain of thought, since magic could be involved. Magic is just another word for cheating, she decided.


    She pondered which stone to steal. The emerald was already loose, but even Runk¡¯s considerable strength had not pulled it out at the end. The ruby wasn¡¯t even a possibility; it was caged in the lizard¡¯s talons and would require serious tools to remove. That left the diamond, which was pinned in the eagle¡¯s beak. She thought that sufficient lateral force could knock it loose, though its position as the highest stone on the pillar made that tricky. She planned out her movements, visualizing them over and over for different possibilities. Finally, she enacted her plan.


    ***


    A few minutes later, Magpie was hanging from the outer edge of the window opening, hoping that the wind would continue to behave for just another minute or two. One swift heel kick was all that was needed to send the diamond flying across the chamber. She had hung from Runk¡¯s branch with one arm and a more tenuous finger-hold on a crevice between two tentacles with the other.


    The contact with the tentacles was the key to her plan- any sudden movement on their part would translate into movement on her part; the hand was braced as much to push away as to pull herself up. And it was a good thing she had set herself for that possibility. As soon as she swung her foot up and completed the precision strike, the tentacles lashed out, pushing her across the room as they descended to pool around the sculpture. Her swinging movement turned into a twisting backflip that took her to the edge of the chamber, where she had landed perfectly in a three-point crouch. Perfect.


    Less ideal was the further behavior of the trap. Missing a victim, the tentacles exploded out from the center, sweeping around the room in a whirlpool of stone. Magpie had only a split second to dive for the window, barely grasping the sill with her finger tips to avoid the fatal fall below. Now she hung, body dangling over the void, feet kicking to maintain her balance against the gusts of wind flowing up from the valley below.


    Not a comfortable situation, but not unfamiliar either.


    She had trained for exactly this situation for years. Except for the questing tentacles that regularly came out the window, brushing the edges in their blind quest for flesh. That was new.


    She moved her hands to the farthest corner, where at least a couple fingers were protected, and settled in to wait it out while listening to the rumbling and grinding sounds from within the chamber for any signs of cessation.


    In ideal circumstances, switching hands every fifteen seconds to avoid lactic acid build up, she could maintain a fingertip hold for five minutes. With the wind twisting her dangling body and the need to cram her fingers into the corner she reached a breaking point in less than two. Tentacles or not, she had to pull herself up, or she would lose the necessary strength for the maneuver.


    She waited just a few more seconds for a tentacle to finish probing the window and then swung her body up, getting her chest over the sill to look into the room. She needed to understand this trap if she hoped to survive, so she forced her mind into the same place of focused flow she used when fighting multiple opponents.


    Just like people, the tentacles couldn¡¯t pass through each other. There were at least ten of them sweeping the room, each around twenty feet long, writhing and twisting around each other with no discernible pattern. They didn¡¯t react to her appearance in the window, which gave her hope; a blind search, however thorough and unpredictable, was much better than being targeted by sight or sound. In a split second she had scanned the room for dead spots, untouched shadows in the tentacle''s range of movement. The corners of the roughly square chamber were her best hope, but she could tell that they would not save her. At least not the lower ones.


    She made her decision and flowed into the sweep of a tentacle moving across the room. The safest places would be where a tentacle had just been. She had to fling her body sideways to stay in line with her chosen guide through the maelstrom twice to avoid tentacles crossing over and under, always keeping the corner of her eye on the space above her in case of attack from above. The arrangement of the thick trunks where the tentacles emerged from the ceiling kept them from getting too tricky, so she could just keep pace.


    She made it to the corner of the room and leapt, left foot to wall, right foot to adjoining wall, pushing off and catching the cornered walls with her palms flat and bouncing her way to the top of the room. It was a tricky move to execute under pressure, but her training carried her up and into the corner, to the truly difficult part of her plan.


    Staying there.


    Here she was helped by the irregular texture of the sandstone walls- the corner wasn¡¯t perfectly squared and had just enough texture for her to push on with all four limbs. ¡®Cornering up¡¯, was Uncle¡¯s term for it, and it was an important move she had practiced for the last six months or so. Upper corners of tall rooms were dead spots, typically poorly lit and unobserved. Maintaining the position took all of her strength and stamina, but mentally she could relax a bit; the tentacles had yet to explore any of the upper corners of the room as far as she could tell.


    She took a moment to survey the room, noting the diamond, which had been batted into the next corner over, and poor Runk¡¯s body, which was being tossed around the room and battered. Amazingly, it was still mostly in one piece, though almost every surface below her was covered by his green blood, and leaves were strewn across the chamber. Her legs trembled with effort, and her palms and feet were sweating and bleeding. She gave thanks that the surface was rough sandstone, and not a surface like granite or metal, or she would be sliding down from the corner into the tentacle blender.


    At long last, after she had passed the point of physical endurance and was holding herself with pure grit, the tentacle maelstrom subsided and gradually withdrew. She judged that the whole ordeal, from kicking the diamond to the trap¡¯s reset, had lasted for about five minutes. The longest five minutes she had experienced in some time. She dropped down to the floor and collapsed, beyond caring about further threats.


    After ten minutes of pure, glorious rest, she forced herself to her feet. She was still trapped in the room, after all, and anxious to see what magic the diamond might provide. The elemental symbolism had not been lost on her, heavy handed as it was, and she had some hope that the diamond might hold the key to escape. The sapphire had allowed her to breathe water and kept the gelatinous water skeletons at bay (some small part of her wanted to call them skelly-fish, but the name was far too trivial for such horrid creatures).


    She went to pick up the diamond, but stopped herself. Even the smallest chance it would set off the trap again was too much, not until she had a much better plan than last time. She looked over at Runk¡¯s body and shuddered at his twisted and mangled state; she must have lost her cold mental status, to be feeling disgust and empathy again. Then she noticed movement.


    You have got to be kidding me.


    She looked closer. Small tendrils, root-like hairs were moving within the mangled corpse. It reminded her of the vines in Uncle¡¯s rooftop garden. No matter what you did to them, they would eventually grow back. Too bad there¡¯s nothing to take root in here.


    With that thought, she had the inkling of a very, very, stupid idea.


    ***


    Whoever had said, ¡°When pigs fly,¡± probably hadn¡¯t been thinking of Magpie¡¯s current circumstance. For one, Runk wasn¡¯t a pig, strictly speaking. Additionally, he wasn¡¯t really doing much in the way of flying. More of a plummet really. But however unlikely porcine flight was, she figured air surfing the somewhat dead body of a pig-tree-orc for a sixty-foot drop, while holding a fist sized diamond that had yet to display any miraculous powers was a fair substitute as a gauge of unlikely happenings.


    After several hours of racking her brain, it was the best plan she could come up with. She figured it increased survivability by a sizable percentage, as Runk¡¯s body would increase drag, flattened and shredded as it was, and provide her a cushion of sorts. Ideally, she would be able to roll on impact without hitting too many boulders.


    That was the hope, anyway. If she were Outside, she would never attempt such a foolish stunt, but Inside all she needed to do was survive. Broken bones would heal in a fraction of the time. Even a broken neck was survivable if it didn¡¯t stop her breathing. And if horrible creatures didn¡¯t eat her while she lay helpless.


    The ground rushed at her and there was no more time for thought, even the oddly timeless musings that often passed through her mind in the middle of horribly perilous situations. They hit the rocky ground unevenly, and she felt her left leg explode, and then she was rolling through boulders the size of her torso, rolling down a slope that was much steeper than it had looked from above. She had tucked as best she could, but she felt her body opening up, now cartwheeling and flipping, crashing from boulder to boulder in brutally chaotic gymnastics. And then she was still.


    It was common lore that one shouldn¡¯t turn off pain signals during the Trial, and Magpie couldn¡¯t care less. There was no way on earth she was going to experience the next few hours with pain included. The good news was that she could still feel her limbs, and once she noted that, she hit the internal switch on her pain sensors as fast as she could.


    There were still a couple hours before sunset, and she hoped she could recover enough by then to find shelter from the inevitable parade of predators the Inside would throw at her. In the Trial, there was no access to the kind of status reports and helpful screens she was accustomed to on the Outside, and that she had heard were available after the Trial as well.


    It took her thirty minutes before she could bear to assess her physical situation visually. She had landed on her side, face into the ground in a fetal position she had probably assumed unconsciously. With her pain turned off, she was able to roll onto her back, feeling the strange sensations of a body that was not at all in good condition.


    By sense of touch alone, she could tell that her left leg was currently more pretzel than leg. She could feel her foot resting on a knee, and visa-versa, unfortunately on the same leg. Her right leg was relatively fine. It was difficult to breathe, though she wasn¡¯t coughing blood, so she figured her ribs were broken, but not puncturing anything internal. Both arms were severely broken, and a shoulder dislocated. Outside, it would take multiple surgeries and months to heal. Inside¡­ well, she was about to find out, wasn¡¯t she?


    Another span of time passed in a fuzzy delirium, and the next she knew, the sky was dark on the horizon she could see, though there still no stars. She didn¡¯t feel any better; she could tell that her pain was a raging torrent behind the damn of her system. She spent several minutes hoping for a wolf or other normal animal to dispatch her, so she could just respawn and escape the situation.


    ¡°Where¡¯s a monster when you need one?¡± she asked aloud.


    Her voice was weak and hoarse. It sounded strange to her, like an odd echo of her thoughts. Guess my brains got a little scrambled too. It was strange to think that her real body was sitting in a pod in her home, entirely uninjured. I wonder how brain injuries work Inside, she thought. Could I be mentally disabled here and not there? She figured that the Inside could mess with her senses any way it wanted to, and thus simulate all manner of cranial trauma.


    Time to get to work, came a voice from some other corner of her mind.


    What¡¯s that even mean? she wondered, as she felt herself stretch out an arm that really didn¡¯t want to be straight. Guess it means I need to straighten out my body, so it can heal, she decided.


    This odd disassociated state continued for the next ten minutes, as she went about straightening her disturbingly floppy left leg, pulling her right hand until the bones went back under the skin where they belonged, and similar housekeeping for the dilapidated wreck of her body. See, that wasn¡¯t so bad, she told herself. Then she passed out.


    Somehow, she awoke before the vulture finished removing her eye. It was a delightfully dreamy state, and without knowing why she pointed her index finger at the huge scavenger and giggled.


    ¡°You¡¯re late!¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ma gunna zap ya.¡±


    She felt the hairs on her arm stand on end and there was a sharp crack as a charge jumped from her finger to the alarmed bird. It took flight with a squawk, only to plummet into the boulders just a few dozen feet away.


    ¡°How did I do that?¡± she wondered aloud.


    She couldn¡¯t remember the dream she¡¯d been in, but her right eye was seriously messed up now. She continued to gain alertness and noticed a tingling on her side. She reached across her body and felt the faceted form of the gem, where it lay half embedded in her flesh.


    I wondered where that had gone, she thought, feeling rather distant about the discovery.


    The small part of her mind that seemed to be on top of the situation chimed in.


    There is something seriously wrong with me. I should log out.


    The other part of her brain complained. But Uncle would be so mad if I wimped out now.


    The choice was taken from her as she passed out again.


    The next time she awoke, she felt the sun beating down on her. Her body felt stiff and it took her a minute to figure out where she was and why her bed was so uncomfortable. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of a flock of huge vultures encircling her. They were perched on the boulders all around, though none was closer than ten feet. They stared at her silently, with beady, hungry eyes in their bald misshapen heads. Holy crap that¡¯s creepy.


    ¡°Get out of here!¡± she yelled. ¡°Go on. Shoo!¡±


    The birds closest to her raised their wings and ducked their heads in an odd bobbing manner but continued to stare defiantly at their prospective meal. She remembered the odd dream from the night before, somehow zapping a vulture with her finger. Then she realized that the gem stone was in fact embedded in the skin over her ribs and was noticeably smaller than the last time she had seen it.


    Crap! Another shrinking gem. I really wanted to try to keep this one. She was actually a little fuzzy on whether items found during the Trial could be kept, but she sure wanted to try.


    Guess last night actually happened. She reached up and felt her eye. It felt normal, and she could see just fine. Of course, she was moving her arm freely, and that had been broken in many places the day before as well. I could get used to healing this fast. It sure would make training easier.


    Her injured leg looked much better as well, though it was still lumpy and swollen, with magnificent bands of discoloration under the skin. She wasn¡¯t going to be running any marathons in the next couple hours, that was for sure. Nonetheless, she pulled herself up on the nearest boulder and waved her arms at her hungry audience, yelling as loudly as she could.


    The movement sent a wave of reaction through the flock, but the bolt of electricity that followed as her arm extended sealed the deal. It struck several of the birds, and they dropped where they perched, feathers smoking. The rest of the flock took to the air with graceless flapping, launching themselves down the slope of the hill.


    Magpie took a moment to consider her new power. It seemed like the diamond controlled electric charges, which made sense as an elemental air power, though she really had no idea how it worked. She figured the gem had been keeping the birds away all night, which explained its shrunken size. It was just like the sapphire, losing size as it used up its power. She picked at it where it sat on her rib cage; somehow it had bonded to her, which was terrifying, but convenient. At least she wouldn¡¯t need to spend half the day looking for it. Besides, it would shrink to nothingness soon enough.


    Her bad leg was still too damaged to bear weight, but she was sick of being stuck in the same place. She hopped and pulled herself along through the boulders, trying to get to where she had landed and see what had become of Runk.


    When she finally made it to his body, she found that a small sapling had sprouted, its roots spread over the remains.


    Guess Runk¡¯s a tree now?


    She felt a little bad for using his body the way she had, but there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it now. She hobbled among the boulders and found a few pretty stones and made a little stack next to the young tree.


    ¡°I guess you always liked rocks,¡± she said. ¡°You should love this place. Maybe I¡¯ll see you again.¡±


    She hobbled away in the direction of the fertile land of the valley below the hill.


    Worst guide ever, she thought with a smile.


    ***


    After the ¡®excitement¡¯ of traveling with Runk, the rest of her Trial was mundane. A few hours of uncomfortable limping brought her to a human town. Then there was the usual rigmarole; thwarting bandits, avoiding crazies, stealing stuff. Not that different from her usual life.


    Then there were those poor suckers at the keep. That was so not her scene. She hunted down the first batch of goblin scouts for fun, and then she was out of there, avoiding the goblin hordes with ease as they thrashed across the landscape. And that was it. The Trial ended, and she hadn¡¯t died.


    She still wasn¡¯t sure why it mattered so much to Uncle, but in the end, it was just another ¡®mission accomplished¡¯ for her.


    The first character sheet that came up for her was full of tutorial nonsense. She swiped that away and figured out how to convince the Inside to lay it all out for her.


    <hr>


    Name: Amihan Matapang* Level: 7


    Deathless


    Trial Results: 99th percentile, Academy Eligible


    Achievements:


    Deathless:


    No deaths in the Trial (1/5000); +20 VIT


    Natural Born Killer


    Over 25 solo kills in the Trial including five or more different species


    +10 Free Points to weapon skill of choice


    The Deadliest Weapon of All


    You have earned the top-level skill for armed combat:


    Weapons (All)


    Accomplishments:


    Source Finder


    You found and internalized 2 Elemental Sources


    Flies like a banana (x2)


    You survived a drop of over fifty feet


    Sir Robin''s Certificate of Approval


    You bravely ran away (a lot)


    EXP: 724


    Available Free Points: 70


    Natural Traits


    STR: 24


    END: 72


    SPD: 65


    KA: 105


    Magical Traits


    POW: 15


    INV: 17


    VIT: 36


    FLASH: 36


    CHARM: SENTIENT: 14


    CHARM: ANIMAL: 1


    CHARM: PLANT: 3


    Elemental Affinities


    20% Fire: 20 + 0 (Tier IV)


    22% Earth: 20 + 2 (Tier IV)


    42% Water: 20 + 22 (Tier III)


    45% Air: 20 + 25 (Tier III)


    (Tier IV 0-29%, Tier III 30-54%, Tier II 55-79%, Tier I 80%+)


    Mana Well: 25


    Mana Gathering: 5%/100 seconds


    Abilities


    Scan II


    Low Light Vision III


    Skills


    Unarmed Combat: Natural Expert (VP = 8)


    Acrobatics: Natural Expert (VP = 8)


    Gliding/Flight: Upgraded Expert (VP = 16)


    Climbing: Upgraded Expert (VP = 16)


    Weapons (all): Natural Expert (VP = 8)


    Mental Deception: Natural Journeyman (VP = 5)


    Mental Manipulation: Natural Journeyman (VP = 5)


    Manual Deception: Natural Expert (VP = 8)


    Disguise: Natural Journeyman (VP = 5)


    Swimming: Upgraded Apprentice (VP = 6)


    Traps and Hidden Mechanisms: Upgraded Expert (VP = 16)


    Stealth: Upgraded Expert (VP = 16)


    Magic:


    Source: Water II (Initiate)


    Clade: Aspect II (Initiate)


    Class: Fused II (Initiate)


    Spell: Breath IV (Journeyman)


    Source: Air II (Initiate)


    Clade: Charge II (Initiate)


    Class: Projected II (Initiate)


    Spell: Bolt IV (Journeyman)


    *Current character name: Amihan Matapang. All Inside announcements and statistics will be attached to this character name. You may change this name within the next 24 hours. After this time, the initial publicly available statistics and announcements will be posted.


    <hr>


    That just won¡¯t do, she thought. She rarely used her system registered name anymore; it reminded her of when she was weak and alone. Now she was part of Uncle¡¯s flock, and she would use the name he gave her. ¡°Change name to Magpie,¡± she ordered.


    ***


    Uncle was pleased with the result. His robotic avatar had no means to convey emotions beyond mild vocal inflection, but he characterized her efforts as ¡°¡­ an acceptable display of competence for a fledgling,¡± and suggested that she return Inside to enroll in the Academy as soon as she was up to it.


    Magpie decided to get some real food and a shower before hopping back into the gel-filled pod. As she ate, she took a few minutes to reflect on her Trial results. She had known going in that the primary goal was access to the Academy, and the most likely way to guarantee acceptance to that elite institution was the ¡®Deathless¡¯ title. Every year about sixty thousand kids undertook the Trial, and only two thousand were accepted to the Academy. The Deathless were guaranteed a spot, as there were only five to ten of them a year out of all the kids who tried.


    She thought the way the Clans gamed the system was really shameless. Non-clan serfs were controlled through debt, and the primary source of that debt was the crappy systems they bought from the clans. An average serf might earn a thousand credits in a good year, Inside or Outside. The lowest end system, barely capable of decent sensory feedback, cost five times that much. And everyone had to buy a system, if they wanted to get ahead in the world. Parents would scrimp and save to help, but in the end, everyone who wasn¡¯t in or associated with a clan, owed the clans.


    Owed them with interest rates that kept them in debt for most of their lives, just long enough so they couldn¡¯t help their children.


    The kicker was that the Clans wouldn¡¯t sell to anyone under the age of sixteen who wasn¡¯t a member or associate. Since the Academy was for ages twelve to sixteen, that kept the bulk of the population in a never-ending spiral of ignorance and debt, since the Academy and its less prestigious cousin the Institute were pretty much the only places to receive an education anymore.


    That left the clannies and their associates (she called them ¡®assies¡¯). Most clan associates were just glorified servants, some more valued than others. Their kids were the bulk of the Trial participants, and most of them had no training or education that would help. In the end, over half of the Academy eligible each year were clan children, about eleven hundred. Maybe seven hundred assies, and about two hundred shibbies, serfs, and gobs.


    Magpie didn¡¯t consider herself any of those things, but she was a rare exception. Uncle¡¯s flock existed outside of the clan¡¯s neat little system, or more accurately alongside and embedded in it.


    The Clans had use for Uncle¡¯s services, both Inside and Outside. She wasn¡¯t sure at all what her role was to be over the next few years; Magpie was only told what she needed to know to complete a mission. She knew she was supposed to hold her nose and ingratiate herself with as many clannies as she could, pretending to be a member of some obscure pacific island clan that Uncle had created. Uncle had tasked her to discover as much as she could about her new classmates and collect current rumors as she laid a foundation for her future roles.


    Magpie felt uncomfortable about what was to come, even a little nervous, if she was honest. She had barely interacted with kids her own age for years, much less spoiled clan scions. Somehow, she was supposed to take all her training in social deception and manipulation and apply it to real people, to make them like her, when she would be much more comfortable kicking their ass instead of kissing it.


    She sighed and looked at the empty bowl in front of her, feeling unmotivated to go back to her pod or train. This often happened after a mission, especially if she had to tweak her emotions. It was all just so pointless. Meeting Uncle¡¯s high expectations used to give her satisfaction, excitement even. Now it was another part of her routine. She needed something more, some kind of challenge that was hers and hers alone.


    She pulled up her character sheet again, hoping for inspiration. Most of the skills were old news. Boring. But the magic stuff was new. Maybe I can get good at that too, she thought. I¡¯m so tired of sneaking around and being cautious. I want to blow shit up. Too bad I don¡¯t have any fire affinity.


    Her musings were interrupted by Uncle¡¯s mild voice in her system.


    ¡°Magpie, there has been a development of interest to us.¡±


    Uncle always used ¡®us¡¯ and ¡®we¡¯.


    ¡°We need your assessment of an individual who has requested our assistance. Go to the Academy now. All the necessary maps and information are in your system, as well as your immediate action plan. We will contact you in forty hours.¡±


    Uncle had never been one for conversational pleasantries, at least not with Magpie, and that was fine with her. She had a job now.


    Less than an hour later, she walked down a pointlessly long and winding corridor and found the correct door. 3557. Her room, and the subject¡¯s too, through some machination of Uncle¡¯s.


    Her data on the subject was very thin; a female name, Emily, and an impressive list of Trial results. Ninety-ninth percentile, four achievements, three titles, one death.


    At least I beat her there, she thought.


    Ninety-ninth percentile was not particularly impressive; at least six hundred participants earned it each year. It was the highest public score available, as the Trial statistics did not go into more detail, only listing a double digit percentile, number of titles and achievements, and number of deaths. A note in the file had estimated her true placement, based on the number of titles and achievements, as top three for the year. Particularly impressive without Deathless.


    Out of long habit, she listened before entering. The space beyond was silent, so she slid the door open a foot and ducked inside, sliding her body to the wall on the left. She scanned the empty room for threats, taking in the doors on the right and left walls, and the two doors in front of her. Before she could decide her next step, the door to her right opened and a shockingly small girl emerged. Her subject.


    She put a bookmark in her sensory recording system, and began a physical appraisal. Height three feet, nine inches. Apparent weight under fifty pounds. Small boned with dense musculature. Asian and Caucasian ancestry. Black spiked hair with green streaks, huge dark brown eyes. Disproportionately large ears and teeth, slightly recessed jaw and flat nose structure, large hands and feet. Magpie kept her eyes moving around the room as she assessed.


    She decided she would wait to use her Scan ability, as it required a fixed gaze for several seconds. Staring was considered rude in most cultures, and doubly so on the Inside, where it was associated with scanning without permission. Not that everybody didn¡¯t do it; they just made sure the other person wasn¡¯t looking back when they did.


    ¡°Hello!¡± said Emily. She shifted her weight awkwardly and blinked her eyes. Was she trying to look innocent? ¡°My name is¡­¡± she paused and Magpie rolled her eyes internally. This is real amateur hour stuff here. ¡°Emily. But you can call me Lily.


    Now that was interesting. Her primary goal was to obtain the subject¡¯s Outside identity. For some reason, Emily was already moving away from her chosen Inside identity, and toward a name she found more comfortable. Lily wasn¡¯t an uncommon name Outside or Inside, but it was a start. The subject gave a small smile as she delivered her name, which told Magpie that she was somehow pleased, as if she had just thought of it. Magpie decided to let the silence drag on a bit longer. It was always easier to pull with a vacuum. After several awkward seconds, the girl spoke again.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name? Are you from the Outside?¡± Her voice was less high and squeaky than Magpie would have expected, and it almost sounded as if she was trying to be soothing, as if she was talking to a small child.


    She thinks I¡¯m nervous, she realized. Magpie scoffed internally. Then she noticed that her palms were sweaty and her heart was beating faster than it should.


    Holy crap. I am nervous.


    It was one thing to run a short con, or to handle stupid adults, who wouldn¡¯t care about her anyway. But she needed this girl to like her, to be friends with her and tell her secrets. It was different somehow, and her amygdala knew it. She forced herself to breathe.


    ¡°I¡¯m Magpie. Don¡¯t call me Maggie. And yes, I¡¯m from the Outside.¡±


    Okay. Now say something nice, but stupid.


    ¡°Nice hair. Are you a gnome or something?¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 10: Weaver

    Lilijoy was getting used to the gnome question. Her height was far from typical for Outsiders, and many of those from Outside and Inside assumed she must be a tall gnome or a short, skinny dwarf. She sighed.


    ¡°Nope, not a gnome. Just a really short human. I like your hair too. Do you wear it like that Outside?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Magpie replied. ¡°Keeps it out of the way. How about you?¡±


    ¡°Oh I wish! I don¡¯t have enough to do anything with it Outside. Have you been Inside long? I finished my trial about a week ago and my trainer here is... well, I¡¯m not sure what she is. Crazy tough, but impressive too¡­¡±


    They traded stories from their Trials and Lilijoy told her about her recent training. Magpie was reticent at first, but Lilijoy¡¯s bubbling enthusiasm swept her along, and before long, Lilijoy learned all about Runk the tree-orc and Magpie heard the tale of the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster, and Starcoil the spider, and all about Rosemallow and Professor Anaskafius. Lilijoy was appalled to find out that Magpie had never read Lord of the Rings and forced her to promise she would when she had time.


    When their conversation had run down a bit, Magpie asked ¡°So where do you live Outside? The translators are so good, I can¡¯t even tell what language you¡¯re speaking.¡±


    Translation was woven into the fabric of the Inside from its inception, even partly covering issues such as lip movements. According to Inside legend, Guardian, or rather Guardian¡¯s subsets, the Archons who ruled the Inside, had found that the Outsiders carried their wars and troubles with them when they visited. To keep the peace, the Archons created a magical energy that prevented misunderstandings due to language differences. Outsiders were encouraged to leave their ethnic and political differences to their own world.


    The initial result had been that warring groups were better able to understand each other¡¯s insults and imprecations, but over time it had paved the way for smoother relations and conflict resolutions. The Corp, the coalition of clans that ruled the Outside, had arisen in part due to this ability to communicate naturally.


    Lilijoy considered Magpie¡¯s question. What should she say? Everyone she knew Outside (which was pretty much just Marcus and Anda, since she could hardly claim to know the other residents of the former monastery) had told her to keep silent on anything connected to her Outside situation. But she didn¡¯t want to alienate her new roommate either, so she decided to keep it vague.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just from the Americas,¡± she said. ¡°But I don¡¯t really like thinking about the Outside too much. Do you have a trainer yet?¡±


    Magpie¡¯s brow furrowed for just a moment. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if it was disappointment or concern.


    ¡°No, not yet,¡± she replied. ¡°I heard that they find you in the first day or so.¡± She looked around the room where they were standing. ¡°I doubt they¡¯re going to find me in here. Plus, we really need to get some furniture. Do you want to go into town and pick some out?¡±


    ¡°That sounds great!¡± Lilijoy exclaimed. ¡°Only¡­¡± she looked down at the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t have any money yet, and I¡¯m not sure where to get any.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just transfer in some credits?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any of those either.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Magpie looked surprised. ¡°Can you borrow some from your family?¡±


    ¡°I might be able to ask a friend¡­ but I¡¯d rather not. Isn¡¯t there some way to get money Inside?¡±


    Lilijoy had researched the Inside as best she could, though it was oddly difficult compared to researching other topics. Her favorite way to learn was through the old internet archives, but those only went up to about 2070. Since then, there had been nothing similar to the glory days of the world wide web.


    Now, information systems were local, limited and tightly controlled by various clans and other interests. The internet archive and the Inside were exceptions, along with a few entertainment broadcast channels provided by the Corp. One of the most popular of those was Inside Life, which showcased the amazing opportunities of life on the Inside, from adventure to earning a living. ¡°Come for the fun, stay for the gold!¡± was one of the breathless slogans repeated endlessly on the channel.


    According to Inside Life, making money on the Inside was ¡®easy as a walk in the forest!¡¯ One video showed a happy couple walking down a sunlit forest path, gathering the bountiful herbs and flowers as they went. Lilijoy had her doubts about the accuracy of that assessment, as it notably lacked spiders, bees, killer lizards and nasty hanging tentacle monsters. Still, she knew that you could find coins or treasures and sell them at the auction house. She figured it couldn¡¯t be that hard, since millions of people seemed to be able to do it.


    Magpie gave her the side eye. ¡°If you want to make a few copper, you could spend the day gathering herbs. But that¡¯s a huge waste of time.¡± She pursed her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what. I¡¯ll lend you a few credits now, and you can owe me a favor.¡±


    That sounded good to Lilijoy. ¡°Okay! Let¡¯s go. Just give me a minute to say goodbye to my plant.¡±


    ***


    It was only Lilijoy¡¯s second time in Academy town. On her first visit she had barely paused to take it all in as she hurried through to register at the Academy.


    The town was home to an even mix of about twenty thousand Insiders and Outsiders, many catering to the needs of about fifteen thousand young and mostly affluent students. Clothing shops and furniture boutiques abounded, alongside outdoor cafes, street food stands, armorers, smiths, herbalists and magic shops. The central square was full of crafters of all kinds, their wares spread out on tables alongside heaps of produce and baked goods brought into the town by local farmers and bakers.


    Lilijoy spent several minutes cataloging new smells, thankfully mostly pleasant, and observing the comings and goings of, what seemed to her, vast swarms of people of all shapes, colors and sizes. Eventually, Magpie grew impatient and pulled her into the mix. What followed was several hours of new experiences. She sampled fruits and vegetables and got into several conversations with the various beings selling them while Magpie stood by impatiently. Lilijoy was so pleased to match experiences to her vast catalog of knowledge, she could hardly contain herself.


    ¡°Did you taste that plum, Magpie? So sweet! Oh, and the oranges, and the bananas and the radishes. And the broccoli was so proud of itself!¡±


    That last comment garnered a very strange look, but Lilijoy didn¡¯t care. She was already onto another stand. Finally, Magpie had to pull her away from yet another long conversation, this time with a crafter behind a table full of woven baskets and macrame. As Magpie guided her from the square, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t stop talking about what she had learned.


    ¡°Did you know that there is a skill for weaving stuff together called textiles? But it¡¯s really hard to get, ¡®cause it¡¯s the top-level skill, and so most people have one or two of the low-level ones, like hand weaving, which is knotting, weaving and braiding. Mr. Sennit offered to teach me the Hand Weaving skill just now if I come back sometime. He was really nice. Did you know that the square gets a lot more crowded than this? All the students are on Experience week, and when they get back tomorrow it will be super crowded ¡®cause they all want to sell their stuff and get new gear and stuff.¡±


    Magpie interrupted when Lilijoy finally stopped to breathe.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°That¡¯s sort of interesting, I guess. Can we get a couch or something now?¡±


    Lilijoy could tell that she wasn''t nearly as excited about the square. She figured that was because Magpie was a normal Outsider and had probably seen things like it before. She badly wanted to ask Magpie all about her Outside life and was kicking herself for saying she didn¡¯t like talking about it. I¡¯ve got to come up with a better story, she thought. I¡¯ve still got two more roommates to meet, plus all the other students.


    It turned out that furniture was not terribly expensive Inside, not that Lilijoy had much to compare it to. They managed to get everything they needed, a couch, table and chairs, as well as a small rug and cushions for a handful of silver. Lilijoy had wondered how they would ever get it all back to the room, but the furniture crafter had an arrangement with the Academy and assured them it would all be delivered.


    ¡°Now you owe me three silver and forty-two copper,¡± Magpie announced. ¡°And a favor of course."


    Her eyes took on a distant look. "This has been fun and all, but I feel like stretching my legs. See you back at the room!¡± she called as she vanished in a burst of speed.


    Lilijoy looked after her in amazement; even with Flash, she wasn¡¯t sure if she could match that pace. Deciding to stay in town for a while longer, she wandered back to the market square. The weaver, Mr. Sennit, was still at his little booth, threading some kind of reed through a star-shaped frame. He was a small brown skinned man with long white hair neatly coiled in a braid running down his back. She stood watching him for several minutes, enjoying the slow growth of the pattern of woven strands as it unfolded. Eventually, he glanced up and gave her a wink.


    ¡°Back so soon, poki?¡±


    ¡°My friend left, so now I have time to watch you weave, if that¡¯s okay with you?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± he said. ¡°You can ask me questions if you want. These old hands can do their task without much help.¡±


    Over the next hour, Mr. Sennit showed Lilijoy several techniques for binding reeds, husks and grass into structures, and allowed her to sit cross-legged on the ground behind his little stand and practice simple Hand Weaving techniques. While she practiced he told her more about the craft.


    ¡°My people have practiced this art for a thousand years. We make ropes and nets, even bind wood together to make buildings. From the simple grass comes a whole world, like magic. Magic in your head goes into the grass, eh? Look here, poki..¡± He held up a length of yellow string. ¡°¡­ see some string. One thing, simple thing.¡± He wiggled it in the air to make his point. ¡°But I got some magic up in here,¡± he said waving a hand over his head. In a flash, he wrapped the string around itself, looping and twisting it between his fingers, until it formed a five-petaled flower. Just as fast he pulled the ends and it was just a string again. ¡°Where¡¯d the flower go, eh? You think ¡®bout that for a bit.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what to think about his demonstration. ¡°Mr. Sennit, the flower didn¡¯t go anywhere. It¡¯s just a string.¡±


    He clucked his tongue and sighed. ¡°Poki, you look again.¡± He took out a red string and made the same flower pattern, this time slowly. ¡°Watch careful-like, okay? You learn this one.¡± He had to do it several times before she understood the technique, and it still took her several tries to recreate the form under his tutelage. At last, she held a red flower, formed from a single string.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the flower? You hold it, right? It¡¯s real, right?¡± She nodded, still wondering what point he was trying to make. He looked at her skeptically, and then reached over and gently prodded her shoulder. ¡°Where are we? Right? Right? This real, huh?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re Inside, so it¡¯s kind of real, I guess?¡±


    ¡°Yup, and Outside? That real too? How you even know?¡± He took her flower and held it in front of her. ¡°You go Outside, this still real?¡± He pulled the ends, making it a length of red string again. ¡°Where¡¯d the flower go? This time you think longer, come back another time.¡±


    He turned back to his weaving, still speaking.


    ¡°I come here for fifty years. Worked for clan for forty. You be careful, poki, don¡¯t learn the hard way. They want you to owe them some, maybe a little, then more, then more. Then it¡¯s forty years stuck paying them back.¡±


    ¡°But Mr. Sennit, why are you still doing the same thing if you don¡¯t owe them anymore?¡±


    His hands twisted and wrapped the reeds over and around each other. Then he sighed and looked at her. ¡°Take a look at this¡­ ¡°


    <hr>


    Name: Weaver Sennit Level: 5


    Achievements:


    None


    Accomplishments:


    Lives Like a Cat x5


    You have died 47 times


    EXP: 534


    Available Free Points: 0


    Natural Traits


    STR: 20


    END: 22


    SPD: 23


    KA: 41


    Magical Traits


    POW: 2


    INV: 21


    VIT: 14


    FLASH: 4


    CHARM: SENTIENT: 12


    CHARM: ANIMAL: 8


    CHARM: PLANT: 21


    Elemental Affinities


    20% Fire (Tier IV)


    22% Earth (Tier IV)


    29% Water (Tier IV)


    33% Air (Tier III)


    (Tier IV 0-29%, Tier III 30-54%, Tier II 55-79%, Tier I 80%+)


    Mana Well: 64


    Mana Gathering: 7%/100 seconds


    Abilities


    Scan II


    Close Sight II


    Skills


    Swimming: Upgraded Expert (VP =16)


    Textiles: Hand Weaving: Illuminated Master (VP = 104)


    Herbalism: Natural Journeyman (VP =5)


    Teaching: Upgraded Expert (VP = 16)


    Mental Deception: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Mental Manipulation: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Vending: Natural Apprentice (VP = 3)


    <hr>


    ¡°¡­ you see that name? That¡¯s what they made me call myself. I don¡¯t mind it anymore. For forty years, if I crossed the clan they¡¯d take my system. Take my only living. No one buying hats and baskets on the Outside, I¡¯ll tell you that. Now they got my kid, and her kids in debt. At least this way I get a few silver a week for my family and I don¡¯t have to do no more beach huts and villas for the rich folk. I even picked up a bit of teaching from curious folk like yourself, mostly other crafters on the square.¡±


    Lilijoy watched the old man¡¯s hands work.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t right,¡± she said at last. ¡°You are amazing at what you do.¡±


    It was true too. His stand was covered with vibrantly colored woven structures. Baskets and hats were there, but also woven animals, tigers, tortoises and dolphins. There were circular wall hangings with hypnotic, swirling patterns and floor mats so beautiful she would hate to step on them.


    ¡°You need to charge more for what you make. If I had any money, I would pay you whatever you wanted.¡±


    The old man half chuckled. ¡°Heh. Poki, you need to get rich quick-like and hurry back here before you see other things you like. My trinkets don¡¯t do no one no good, ¡®cept maybe keep some sun out of your eyes or look pretty.¡±


    That didn¡¯t seem right to Lilijoy. From what she had learned from Professor Anaskafius, anyone at his level of advancement could work enchantments into their crafts.


    ¡°What about the magic part of your skills?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The clans didn¡¯t like me messing around with that. They taught me how to work fast, how to make things last. Makes me good and tired to do that though, so mostly I just pass the days the old-fashioned way. No use in making more than I can sell, and my work lasts just fine all on its own.¡± He finished the basket top he was making, set it aside, and picked up a handful of long cords. ¡°Still pretty cool though, eh? You want to see?¡±


    Lilijoy could only nod with excitement. Mr. Sennit took a moment to set up the cords on a single rowed peg board. He sat quietly for a moment and even in the afternoon sun, Lilijoy could see a faint glow form around his hands. Then he began to move, and she felt an odd pressure emanating from him, almost like her ears wanted to pop, like she could lean into it. There was a rushing noise, and his hands caressed the threads stroking them, forming them like putty, and as his fingers traveled down the strands they flowed and blurred.


    ¡°Put your arm up here, quick-like,¡± he said out of the side of his mouth, his eyes never leaving the weaving. Entranced, it took her a moment to comply, but when she did, she felt a sensation of pushing her arm through, into, something warm and dry and oddly liquid at the same time. ¡°All done!¡± he announced, and she saw a wide bracelet made of hundreds of intricate loops and knots around her wrist. She held her hand out in front of her, admiring the patterns and wondering how on earth he had managed to make it connect all the way around her wrist with no break or disruption of any kind.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful!¡± she exclaimed, and her eyes filled with tears even before the wave of emotion made its way to her consciousness. Echoes of that distant day when she had made the bracelet from cattail reeds for Attaboy, the feeling of creation that became her foundation for cultivating, filled her. Not only that, but this was the first time she had ever been given a gift to wear, aside from the ridiculous pillowcase dress she had gotten from Marcus. It was so perfect, and it looked so good on her wrist that she was overcome with a wave of happiness tinged with inadequacy.


    She looked up at Mr. Sennit through watery eyes, and he was beaming back at her, his brown eyes glinting. He gave her a wink. ¡°For luck, eh? It won¡¯t do nothing but look pretty.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t pay you!¡± she cried.


    ¡°Oh, Poki, I see that you like. That¡¯s all I need.¡± He gathered up more cords and some other materials and thrust them on her.


    ¡°Here, you go, make something nice for your friend. Come back soon, I show you a few more things.¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 11: Alchemy

    In a daze, Lilijoy walked back to the Academy, lost in thoughts of her own future creations. Her thoughts turned to all the people in her life she wanted to help; Attaboy, Anda, and now Mr. Sennit. She needed to be stronger, and the bracelet would remind her of that. She looked at her wrist, so lost in thought that she reached the Academy entrance and nearly walked into a group of tall young people who were gathered in the entry hall.


    ¡°Hey Teerex, check this out!¡± called a crackling teenage voice. ¡°It¡¯s a tiny noob! She¡¯s still got her trial tunic and everything!¡±


    The boy seemed very excited to share this information, and Lilijoy came out of her reverie and looked up at the people around her. There were six of them, four boys and two girls all wearing matching silver armor over white tunics, almost like a uniform. They stared at her with a variety of expressions, and Lilijoy realized they were scanning her for information about her character. Drawing on her lessons with Professor Anaskafius, she immediately hid her name, level and titles; all her public information. She was looking forward to the time she would be able to substitute her own fake information the way her magic mentor had in their first, memorable lesson, but he had suggested that she not bother until her deception skill was a couple notches higher.


    The boy with the cracking voice spoke again, and now she could see that the voice belonged to the smallest member of the group, a skinny boy with dark hair and thin features who looked a little awkward in his shining armor.


    ¡°Guys, you getting anything?¡±


    There was a murmur from the group, and then one of the girls said, ¡°Just a name. Guys, this is Emily.¡± She looked Lilijoy over, as if trying to decide exactly how she fit into her social organization. ¡°You must be new, Emily, so props for hiding your info.¡± The corner of her mouth twitched into a sneer, just before the other corner caught up to make a smile. ¡°I thought I was the best charmer for our year, but I guess someone¡¯s trainer let them put points into Charm.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what to make of this girl. She was pink-skinned and had long blond hair piled up on top of her head, and her voice and facial expressions were confusing. Lilijoy kept seeing tiny flashes of emotions like disgust and fear, and her hearing detected a certain tightness and oscillation in the girl''s vocal chords that betrayed uncertainty. At the same time, she was obviously trying to look utterly in control, friendly and confident.


    Perhaps the Tao System was processing fast enough so Lilijoy could see through the act the girl was putting on. Either that, or she was just a really bad actor.


    ¡°My name is Antimony,¡± the girl continued. ¡°I¡¯d ask you about your family,¡± she put a particular stress on the word, as if it should mean something special, ¡°but we¡¯re not supposed to worry about all that here.¡±


    ¡°Hi,¡± said Lilijoy with a hand wave toward the group. ¡°How long have you guys been here at the Academy?¡±


    She scanned them as subtly as she could, and after a couple seconds she had their information. Antimony, Belsaurus, Edison, Quatorze, Teerex and Kallisti, all level eight. She couldn¡¯t see any titles, but that was normal. Even if they had them, blocking titles was the easiest deception. If she wanted to, she was sure she could break through, but it would be obvious what she was doing. From the way Antimony and the other girl, Kallisti were staring, she was pretty sure they were still trying to break through her blocks.


    A big stocky fellow with cropped brown hair, Teerex, answered, ¡°We just finished our fourth cycle.¡±


    He sounded like he was forcing his voice lower than it wanted to go. Probably trying to sound like a grown man, Lilijoy thought. These people sure don¡¯t like being themselves.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re first years too?¡± There were a few nods from the group. ¡°Your armor looks great,¡± Lilijoy continued. It really did, too, a shining chain mail with polished plates in critical areas. Some of them had more plates and some less, but it all clearly came from the same source. ¡°Where did you get it?¡±


    There was an awkward pause as the group turned to Antimony, who was still staring at Lilijoy, trying to break through her blocked level and titles. After a moment, Antimony realized that everyone was looking to her for a response and she shook her head slightly. ¡°That¡¯s need to know information, sweetie. Maybe I could tell you how to get some just like it if you showed me your stats...¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I was just curious. Anyway, it¡¯s time I got to my room and logged out. See you guys around.¡±


    Antimony gave her a nod and a tight smile. The others had already gone back to their conversation. There was a burst of laughter as she made her way from the room. She immediately felt self-conscious.


    They¡¯re all so big and good looking, they¡¯re probably laughing at the tiny noob in her trial tunic.


    It was a new feeling for Lilijoy, being judged by a group of people her own age, and she didn¡¯t like it at all.


    This is why I need to be strong.


    She was pretty sure that this was a group of clan kids. She thought back to some of the books she had read, where the main character inevitably became entangled with useless social problems, usually because of a conflict with someone exactly like the people she had just met.


    I should stay as far away from these people as possible.


    She resolved to keep a low profile and avoid the clan kids as much as she could. They were probably too young to be helpful to her anyway. She had come to realize that the ¡®normal¡¯ world was still much closer to Emily¡¯s experience in many ways than her own; most kids didn¡¯t have independence or power in society until they were older.


    She wondered whether she would trade her independence to have a mother and father, or any family at all, really. That line of thinking just made her feel lonely, so she pushed it aside. Attaboy and Anda, her only real family needed her to be strong.


    She reached her room and logged out.


    ***


    Lilijoy was greeted by a host of sensations back in her Outside body. Every muscle in her body was stiff and sore, and her entire jaw had a deep aching sensation. That¡¯s right, she remembered, Jiannu set it up so that my Outside body trained too. Feeling around with her tongue inside her mouth, she realized that new teeth were growing.


    ¡°Jiannu, did the med bots start new teeth for me?¡±


    ¡°No, that was your own body¡¯s decision; those are your adult teeth coming in. With good nutrition and a majority of toxins cleared, you can expect to catch up a bit in many areas, though you will remain quite small compared to your genetic potential. You can also expect hormonal changes associated with puberty to accelerate.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how she felt about that, so she put it in the back of her mind. She hopped down from the pod, and nearly fell when she tried to stabilize herself with a non-existent left hand. That triggered another memory; she immediately pulled up her messages from the last week and found the message she was hoping for.


    Savitri had completed her prosthetic arm and would be happy to help Lilijoy whenever she was ready.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting an arm!¡± she announced to her empty room as she jumped on her bed in excitement.


    ***


    Savitri¡¯s lab was different than Lilijoy had expected. It was housed in an old classroom on the ground floor of the monastery, though all the windows had been blocked off with insulating foam. In fact, the entire room, other than a few carefully placed ventilation shafts had been half filled with a type of nano-aerogel that had insulating properties similar to a vacuum. Savitri told her it was because her tools required extremely stable temperatures. As she finished the final calibrations, she chatted with Lilijoy.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Do you know the real reason the Inside is so important to the clans?¡± Savitri asked.


    ¡°I guess not. I always assumed it was just a way for them to escape the real world, and then they wanted to control it too.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear no. They get far more from it than you might think. I¡¯ll give you a little hint. My Inside self is an enlightened master of Alchemy.¡±


    Lilijoy was confused, but she tried to talk it through. ¡°So, you¡¯re a lot like you are here on the Outside. I bet you can make some really cool stuff Inside. Potions and stuff. Maybe if you take a potion to make you smarter on the Inside it makes you smart on the Outside too?¡±


    Savitri laughed. ¡°You are not far off, Lilijoy. But it¡¯s even bigger than that, if you can imagine. You see, once upon a time, the Outside lost every connected computing device to Guardian¡¯s awakening. The artificial intelligence grew explosively and took for its own use every microprocessor it could reach on the planet. You must understand, this was at the same time that all of humanity¡¯s sins had caught up. Factories and infrastructure were devastated by war, the environment was oscillating wildly, and engineered plants had taken over huge swaths of the ecosystem. All the scientists and engineers who built the nano-machines humans depended on had no way to continue their work. Even when they could cobble together new computers and manufacturing capabilities, they were struggling with a collapsing society and all that entailed, such as lack of food and lack of safety. On top of this, Guardian came out with its rules shortly after it awoke. Do you remember the Rules?¡±


    Lilijoy could rattle them off by this point. ¡°No uncontrolled reproduction, and absolutely no self-replicating machines. No tinkering with the environment, on purpose or by accident. Rights have limits based on the relative intelligence of the beings considered, and finally, Guardian set aside a part of itself to keep an eye on us and enforce the rules.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good summary. So back to our story. At this point, some of the only infrastructure that was robust enough to survive all the turmoil was based on self-replicating processes. Now those were forbidden too, along with all fossil fuel use. This was the beginning of what we call the ¡®little dark age¡¯ that lasted twenty years, from about 2080 to 2100. But there was one ray of light in the darkness for those years. Many of the wealthy and privileged who had survived the turmoil still had internal nano-machine systems. They were amazed to find out that they could still access the worlds largest virtual reality gaming universe, a place that was called DayNight Universe in English, IlBam in its original Korean. For some reason, Guardian chose that computer game as the primary interface it would use to connect with what remained of the Human race.¡±


    Savitri pressed a final button and Lilijoy¡¯s new arm rose up out of a vat of some kind of gel.


    ¡°We¡¯ll just let that dry for a few minutes, and then we can start fitting it,¡± she said. ¡°Now where was I? Ah! At first, it was only an escape from a dying world for the human outsiders. Guardian had changed how the game functioned and populated the game¡¯s servers with subsets of its own intelligence, the Insiders. Technology on the Outside was all but extinct and stuck in a catch-22. Without microprocessors and quantum circuits to model the nano-machines and control the molecular manufacturing, there was no way to build more systems and microprocessors. The humans who already had systems could retreat to the Inside to some extent, at least for mental relief, while the rest of humanity suffered. This was to be the slow descent back to the stone age, as the last remnants of those who had internal systems slowly aged and perished, the rest of humanity was already adapting to a pre-industrial state.¡±


    Her voice rose and became excited. ¡°But then something amazing happened! The first player to reach the position of Enlightened Grandmaster Alchemist, playing the game formerly known as DayNight Universe made a discovery. The Alchemy system available on the Inside at the highest level could be re-purposed for the exact type of molecular modeling and control systems that were needed on the Outside. They could run the models Inside and create programs to bring back to the Outside. It was as if Guardian gave them their old tools back, only now they had to earn the skills to use them through playing a computer game. What do you think of that!¡±


    Lilijoy was amazed by the story. It explained so much. The Corp, and the clans that composed it, used the Inside to develop and refine the very systems they used to control everyone else. She didn¡¯t know much about the Alchemy skill, but she did know it was very resource hungry. Alchemists needed ingredients, and more advanced Alchemists needed huge amounts of exotic plants and animals to make their creations. If the skill was anything like other Inside skills, they would need to make thousands and thousands of new and unique potions and concoctions in order to become Grandmasters, even if they did bring a good knowledge of physics and chemistry from their other training.


    ¡°So, if you were a Master Alchemist for a clan, they must have really taken care of you. What made you run away to the mountains?¡±


    ¡°It is very complicated, but I guess you could say that the work environment was unbearable. The Grandmaster Alchemist in my clan was not a nice person, and I had to choose between my integrity and sanity or continuing to work for my clan. Not only that, but I disagree with the way the clans rule the Outside, and in the end, I decided I would not work for any other clan either. It was a difficult decision at the time, but now I have no regrets. I was fortunate to escape both Inside and Outside, otherwise I would not have been able to program the molecular vat which produced your prosthetic¡­ speaking of which...¡±


    She picked up Lilijoy¡¯s new arm and offered it to her to examine. The skin was a dark gray, with a hint of iridescence as Lilijoy moved it in the light. It had a very smooth texture, though the palm and fingers seemed much rougher, almost sticky. The consistency of the ¡®flesh¡¯ was not far from the feel of her own, though the fibers and cables that ran within had a much different quality than her own muscles and tendons, harder and more compact.


    ¡°The skin is a carbon composite material, filled with a nano-aerogel. The bones are a different carbon structure, a hybrid of diamond and nanotube fiber, while the muscles are coiled polymer composites that draw a small charge from a built-in battery system. The battery can be charged from a combination of your own body heat, solar and a variety of external sources. Once your system is connected to it, you will be able to tell if you are running low, but it is efficient enough that you shouldn¡¯t have to worry. Are you ready to give it a try?¡±


    Lilijoy could only nod, as Savitri pressed the socket onto the stub just above her elbow. As soon as it was in place, a ring mounted on dozens of flexible cords detached from around the end of the prosthetic and moved over her elbow, where it contracted firmly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry if it feels a little tight. It is programmed to monitor blood flow and skin conductance and release or tighten as necessary. It will only completely release in the face of forces large enough to cause damage to your upper arm. Whenever you are ready, I will activate the initial nerve links. The prosthetic will release several hundred conductive pins into your tissue. You then must guide your neurons to the closest pin. Don¡¯t worry if it takes days or even weeks for the initial connection to form. If you are ready, I will release the pins into your tissue. Then I will follow up with you in a day or two to see how the initial stage is progressing.¡±


    Lilijoy damped the pain sensors in her stub, and then gave the word to go ahead. There was hardly any sign of the thin, flexible pins penetrating through her skin. She felt a brief sensation of pressure, and then it was over.


    ¡°The entry wounds are extremely small, but do make sure to direct your med bugs to guard against opportunistic infection. How does it feel?¡±


    It didn¡¯t feel like anything but dead weight at the end of her arm. Feeling a bit underwhelmed, she moved her upper arm around, just to enjoy the sight of an intact hand on the left side of her body. ¡°It feels okay, I guess?¡±


    Savitri chuckled. ¡°A little disappointment is entirely normal, but I promise you great things in the weeks ahead. You will be able to move and feel just like you used to, and with time and practice, you will be able to move the prosthetic in ways you never could with your natural arm. The skin material is extremely cut and puncture resistant, the bones are nearly unbreakable, and the ¡®muscles¡¯ can exert force many times greater than unaugmented human muscles.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to seem ungrateful!¡± Lilijoy exclaimed. ¡°How can I pay you back for everything you have done for me?¡±


    ¡°Lilijoy, I want you to understand two things. The first is that the feedstock and molecular manufacturing technologies I have available here were extremely hard to get. They are tightly controlled by the Corp and were smuggled out at great personal risk. If you were to pay me for this prosthetic, you would be in debt for years. The second thing is more important. Creating this arm for you was an act of love toward the universe, a spiritual practice. All the payment you could give to me would only subtract from what I already have received. Going forward, my rewards will only continue as you prosper and do good for others. I only ask that you consider how you can help build a world where everyone can do what I have done for you.¡±


    Lilijoy considered this for a moment. How could a society where generosity was the dominant emotion come to be? She considered her own system for a moment. If she wanted to, she was sure she could elevate the emotional rewards she felt for helping others with a thought. It was all chemistry in the end after all.


    What if it was as simple as giving everyone a system that allowed them to do the same? But if it was that simple, why did she feel such a strong reluctance to alter her own emotional pathways? She had the power to reconfigure her own internal reward structure in any way she wanted, but it felt scary to even contemplate.


    It was back to the ¡®castle of the self¡¯, she realized. Her identity was the very process that maintained her identity. The castle defending the castle. A cycle of continuity.


    The real key to all of it, she decided, was understanding the increment. If she set her emotional reward system to change gradually, where was the threshold of continuity of self? How fast could she change her own brain and still be recognizeable to herself?


    Did society operate the same way? If societies had a similar self-defining mechanism to individuals, what was the rate of change acceptable to a society¡¯s identity reinforcement loop?


    When did I start thinking like this? I¡¯m thinking in concepts I didn¡¯t even know about a few weeks ago.


    It was all so ridiculous she began to chuckle. Her thoughts about losing identity due to rapid change were only made possible by the rapid changes that threatened her identity. For just a moment she held the structure of her contrary cycle of thought in her imagination, almost as a shape she could examine, a vortex of feedback loops composing the concept of self and its defensive structure. And then it was gone; she was back to being carried around the loops of her thoughts as a passenger.


    Mr. Sennit, I think I almost know where the flower goes. I was just there.

 Book 2: Ch. 12: Assembly

    Back in her room, Lilijoy sat on the cot and manipulated her med bugs. Compared to the long days of working on Anda¡¯s injury, the process of directing the bugs to make the necessary connections between the pins from the prosthetic and her own nervous system was simplicity itself. The pins all connected to a tiny processor in the arm, which would sort out what signal went where, so there was no need for precision or specificity. Not only that, but the system allowed for significant redundancy, as there were more connections than strictly necessary. The only tricky bit was separating the major nerves of the arm into individual fibers, but thankfully, that was an automated task that didn¡¯t require her direct supervision.


    The next item on her agenda was exciting, and a little scary. She had finally crossed the threshold to begin real Stage Two cultivation.


    She pulled up her current status.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: INITIATE</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>532,615</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>92%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>83%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>.02%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>


    4 detected, 3 identified


    Medical Bugs: .782 Billion, 20% assigned


    Rank 4 (Blood): .045 Billion, 0% assigned


    Rank 5 (Skin): .015 Billion, 0% assigned


    Sensor and Infiltration: 0, 0% assigned


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Communications</td>


    <td>Stealth Mode</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Sensors</td>


    <td>Passive</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Active Interventions</td>


    <td>0</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Personal Quantification</td>


    <td>Ranking Display</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She had crossed the five hundred thousand mark which Jiannu had set as her target in her previous cultivation session.


    ¡°Jiannu, I have some time to cultivate now. Can we start Stage two? And what exactly is different about it?¡±


    ¡°Everything you have done to this point is scaffolding. Stage one will remain as mechanical support for Stage two, but now you can begin building structures which incorporate your own neurons and cortical sub-structures directly. This will vastly expand your cognitive capacity. Over time you will gain the ability to control your subjective sense of time, and more accurately model the behavior of physical systems and even other minds. Do you remember what happened when you first initiated Stage two?


    Oh, she remembered alright. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I almost died. I had an immune reaction that caused my brain to swell.¡±


    ¡°That is a very common outcome. The original intent of the Tao System¡¯s architects was for stage one to be supplied externally, through injections into the spinal fluid. Then, when Stage one was sufficiently integrated to provide support, Stage two would be initiated in a controlled medical environment. Your experience was sub-optimal.¡±


    ¡°Do I need to worry about an immune reaction this time?¡±


    ¡°No, your body has been taught to accept the Stage two elements. What you need to know before beginning is that the cultivating process will be substantially more demanding. There will be a stage of cultivation for each level of your cortical hierarchy...¡±


    What followed was several hours of instruction from Jiannu about the topology of neural architecture in the human cerebral cortex. Several times she needed to stop and learn the necessary math and physics associated with the subject. Her integration with the knowledge available to her from external sources was key; without that, she was sure it would have taken a years, or simply been impossible for her to learn. By the time Jiannu had guided her through the subject, she was ready for a break.


    ¡°Jiannu, I feel like we¡¯re just scratching the surface. What about the processing within the neurons themselves? Did anyone ever figure out if the brain used quantum effects from the microtubules?¡±


    As soon as she asked the question she became aware of thirty years of scientific papers, spanning from 2012 to 2046. She didn¡¯t directly know the contents of the papers, but it felt rather like she had read them many years before, and forgotten them. She knew that if she began to read one, she would feel familiar with the contents, more like a review, right until she ran into some aspect of the science for which she had no foundational understanding.


    Which was most of it.


    She was slowly plugging away on her own time, learning from thousands of sources that were available to her in the old web archive. She had what she thought might have been considered a ¡®college level¡¯ understanding in most scientific fields, though it was sometimes difficult to tell what she knew internally and what was supplied from external sources. It would take her weeks to understand the papers her system had pulled up to answer her question.


    But there was one nagging familiarity about several of the papers from 2045-46. She had to check to make sure, pulling up the text on her internal view. Sure enough, there it was, Lead Author: Dr. Henry Choi.


    Go Dad! she thought. Then she recoiled at her response. Was that an intrusive ¡®Emily¡¯ thought? She couldn¡¯t be sure where it came from. Maybe some corner of her unconscious had seized upon Emily¡¯s relationship with her father and used it to fill the vacuum in her own life. She chuckled to herself; maybe the ghost of Emily Choi was haunting her brain.


    She pulled herself back to the task at hand. She would understand her father¡¯s paper someday, but that day was not today. She had already used up over half the time she had set aside for cultivating, and well over half her mental energy.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to do just a little, Jiannu. There¡¯s no way I can make it through a full session.¡±


    ¡°That is fine. Let¡¯s aim to build just a few mobile units, and one augmented cluster.¡±


    Lilijoy fell into the gleaming depths of her brain.


    ***


    The next day, after a full night''s sleep on the Outside and eating solid food for the second time in a week, Lilijoy went to see Anda. He was agitated, pacing around the tiny confines of his room and pawing at his face as if he was trying to wipe something off. His door was open, and Lilijoy hovered in the doorway for a moment before knocking tentatively to let him know she was there.


    ¡°Um, hey Anda. Sorry it¡¯s been so long.¡±


    He slumped down onto the bed and put his face in his hands, saying something unintelligible.


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what was going on. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Anda, I didn¡¯t catch what you said.¡±


    He moaned, and the moan somehow transformed into standing and shouting at the top of his lungs.


    ¡°I said I screwed up, alright!¡±


    Lilijoy flinched back. Even though she had grown an inch or so, he was still almost twice her height, and intimidating when he lost his temper. Which was all too often since his head injury.


    I wonder why I don¡¯t react this way to Rosemallow? Maybe my deep brain has learned that the dangers of the Inside are different.


    She tried to remain calm in the face of his emotional turbulence.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Is it something I can help you with?¡±


    He flopped back onto his bed and clutched at his bald head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t know. I told some people, okay?¡±


    ¡°Anda, who are they and what did you tell them?¡± Her tone was not quite remonstrating.


    ¡°The Hand.¡±


    Now she was definitely worried. ¡°Like from the old comic books?¡± She really hoped he wasn¡¯t delusional.


    ¡°It¡¯s ironic, okay? It¡¯s what the Renaissance leaders are called; I guess they thought it would be funny.¡±


    Well, at least he hasn¡¯t lost it completely. ¡°And what did you tell them?¡±


    He looked at her directly with bloodshot brown eyes. ¡°I told them about your friend.¡±


    ¡°I thought they already knew about Attaboy. Aren¡¯t they the ones who told you?¡±


    ¡°It was an anonymous message. If it was them, they knew that Sinaloa captured an indigene bearing a mysterious legacy bug.¡± He looked away. ¡°I just wanted to help! I¡¯m going crazy, trapped here in the cold and dark. It¡¯s always dripping here.¡±


    ¡°Anda, you have Augsight,¡± she reminded him. ¡°What did you tell them?¡±


    ¡°Did you know that Marcus tried to disable my communications with his infiltration bugs?¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°I think they¡¯re trying to keep me here. They say they are trying to help me, but I just want to go home!¡± He put his hands over his face and his shoulders shook.


    Lilijoy crossed her arms and watched him sob for a moment. After she regained her patience, she tried again. ¡°Anda, please, what did you tell them?¡±


    ¡°I told them it was Tao System, Okay!¡±


    ¡°What did they say?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t believe me. They said my brain was confused.¡±


    Well that¡¯s a relief


    ¡°So I told them I knew someone else who had it.¡±


    Oh crap.


    ¡°But it¡¯s fine. They don¡¯t know it¡¯s you...¡± his voice tailed off.


    Lilijoy dug deep and found her last scrap of patience. ¡°Who else would they think it was?¡± Then she took the scrap and threw it away as her own anger grew. ¡°I know that your judgment is impaired, but what were you thinking? We finally had a safe place to grow and plan. Now what? You can¡¯t leave here the way you are, but what am I supposed to do? I won¡¯t be able to help you for months, and now I¡¯m going to have to run again!¡±


    She turned and ran from the room before she said the other things she was thinking. That she should have left him in the swamp. That he just screwed up his chance at a normal life.


    How was she supposed to deal with her anger toward Anda when none of this was really his fault? He had gotten shot protecting her; she should be grateful to be alive. But his betrayal, however blameless, hurt her to the core.


    She ran all the way back to her room and hopped into the pod. She just wanted to escape for a few hours, she told herself. While the various plumbing components of the pod were attaching themselves, she sent a quick message to Marcus explaining the situation.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    <hr>


    Hi Marcus. Anda told the leaders of the Renaissance about me and Attaboy and the Tao System. Did you know they were called ¡®The Hand¡¯? I guess I got two new hands in my life today, haha. I¡¯m going Inside for a few hours to cool off. I don¡¯t know whether I should stay or go, so please let me know what you think. I¡¯m sorry for the big mess I keep making in your life!


    <hr>


    ***


    Back in her room at the Academy, Lilijoy released a deep shuddering breath. Her conversation with Anda replayed in her mind, and tears of frustration, sadness and anger refused to leave her eyes. She looked out her window at the fields below and noticed dozens of people, tiny figures from her vantage, milling between the arenas and on the path between them and the Academy. Then she heard the door to the suite open, and someone came into the common room, babbling excitedly.


    ¡°¡­ don¡¯t know what they were thinking. Outsiders are so strange. I¡¯m sure the next time we¡¯ll get a better group. Did you see the way that boy kept looking at us? Oh, look, Jess! Someone got furniture! Do you think some new people came while we were out? I hope they¡¯re nicer than our group was. I don¡¯t think I like this rug, but the cushions are bouncy¡­ ¡°


    The high-pitched voice continued to chatter a rapid stream of observations about the new furniture Lilijoy and Magpie had picked out. A low grunt punctuated the unceasing flow of words once or twice, which was all Lilijoy heard of the other participant in the one-sided conversation.


    I guess it¡¯s time to meet the rest of my roommates.


    She emerged from her room and the chatter stopped. Looking back at her, in the act of jumping up and down on the couch was a small furry girl with huge round eyes and large triangular ears on the sides of her head. A bushy tail almost as big as she was was curled around her feet and draped further off the edge of the couch and onto the floor. Her fur, mostly gray, ranged from a white patch on her front to a black stripe that ran from between her eyes all the way to the tip of her tail.


    ¡°Someone my size!¡± Lilijoy exclaimed, precisely at the same time as the other girl said, ¡°She¡¯s little too!¡±


    They both laughed, and then the furry girl spread her arms and said, ¡°Greetings, I am Petauran Bentbough Panadan Skria the Fierce Sky Rider. Please call me Skria.¡± As she stated her name, Lilijoy saw her name, titles and level appear as Skria Panadan: Sky Rider, The Fierce: Level 7. Her arms were connected entirely to her body by a membrane of dark skin.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Skria! My name is Emily, Defender of the Young, Dark Lady of the Thorns and Blessed of Nandi. But please call me Lily.¡± She allowed her public information to show, deciding it must be the custom when greeting friendly Insiders.


    Skria¡¯s companion, who had remained silent to this point, gave a snort.


    ¡°Jessila, the despised,¡± she said in a growling voice. Her information appeared to Lilijoy as Jessila Tewl: Level 8.


    Lilijoy had to crane her neck to look up to Jessila¡¯s face as she spoke. She was an imposing figure, perhaps six feet tall, but of enormous girth, though it was hard for Lilijoy to discern how much was her and how much was the many layers of heavy leather and cow skins she wore. Her head was round, with her dark hair set in braids that coiled around her head multiple times, held in place by thick wooden dowels that projected at all angles. Her face was surprisingly small for such a huge head, and had a mixture of features that confused Lilijoy¡¯s intuition for how a face should look. Her nose and jaw projected into a blunt snout, but she had high cheekbones, a domed brow, and the most vibrant blue eyes Lilijoy had ever seen, with elegantly arched brows and thick lashes. Her skin was olive brown and looked perfectly smooth and soft.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you, Jessila! I¡¯ll try not to get underfoot.¡±


    Jessila glared at her, and Skria laughed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be scared of Jess. She just doesn¡¯t like talking. Or people. But she would never hurt anyone who didn¡¯t attack her first. We met on the way here when she helped me with a bunch of trolls who were resistant to my poison cloud, so I kinda owe her my life.¡± Without pause, she pivoted to Lilijoy. ¡°So tell me about yourself Lily. What people do you belong to? Do you miss them? Have you been here long? Do you like your teachers? Have you met your teachers? Do you want some fruit?¡±


    With the last of the rapid-fire questions she brought out a wrinkled green fruit about the size of Lilijoy¡¯s head. Immediately a pungent aroma of spoiled milk filled the room, and Lilijoy hastened to damp her olfactory system. Jessila¡¯s nostrils twitched several times, but she had no other reaction.


    Skria was still talking. ¡°¡­ It¡¯s really good. It¡¯s a thing my people do when we meet, a custom I guess, but not many other people seem to do it, so I won¡¯t be offended, but you should try it and not be like those outsiders who were really mean about it.¡±


    She finally paused to allow Lilijoy a word in, while looking at her with big innocent eyes.


    Lilijoy was taken aback by the whole thing. She had never met anyone who could talk more, and faster, than she could. The fruit smelled like something she would throw away immediately, worse than the rotting amazon swamp even. She struggled to find a way to politely decline the offer.


    ¡°Thanks Skria, but maybe you have a different¡­ ¡°


    ¡°Different fruit? Sure!¡± She continued to talk while pulling out a variety of colorful fruits of different shapes and sizes from her inventory. Lilijoy tried to listen while she looked for something that looked familiar, or at least edible to humans. ¡°We just got back from our first experience term, but it wasn¡¯t very good because the rest of our group thought they were the new leaves and treated us like the brush, and neither of us even gained a level. I probably got most of my experience for ¡®exposure to difficult social situations¡¯. Here, try this one.¡±


    She handed Lilijoy a small yellow triangular fruit, which turned out to be crunchy and faintly sweet. In between nibbles, Lilijoy answered some of Skria¡¯s earlier questions. It turned out that Skria had mistaken her for an Insider, which Lilijoy took as a compliment. After that confusion was cleared up, she asked a question of her own.


    ¡°So, Skria, how did you end up at the Academy? Do Insiders have a Trial?¡± She hadn¡¯t even realized that there would be students from the Inside, but she decided to keep her ignorance to herself on that.


    ¡°Oh, we don¡¯t have a trial like you do. It just kind of happens that some of us get into a difficult situation in our normal lives, and if we rise to the challenge, we gain an achievement called Tempered, that makes us a bit more... I don¡¯t know, aware of ourselves? Of those who are tempered, about a thousand come to the Academy every year, so we¡¯re still outnumbered by the Outsiders. For example, I ended up defending my family from shadow owls, huge birds of the night who hide in darkness and prey upon my kind whenever they can.¡±


    She looked over at Jessila, who grunted and turned away. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what Jess did, but I bet it was pretty amazing, cause she reached level eight before she even came here.¡±


    She drew a breath to continue her thought, but at that moment a deep bell rang, vibrating the stone all around them.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s the assembly call!¡± Skria said ¡°We¡¯d better get going.¡±


    This was news to Lilijoy. ¡°Where do we go?¡±


    ¡°Just follow us. We¡¯re in the same major cohort, so we¡¯re all going to the same place.¡±


    Along the way, Lilijoy learned about the cohorts of the Academy. There were five major cohorts, and each corresponded to a certain range of experience and ability. Theirs was the Fourth Cohort, the second from the bottom.


    ¡°But it¡¯s not really very exact. Eventually, we¡¯ll find a smaller group of five or six and that will be our ¡®learning cohort¡¯, but until we do, we get mixed and matched during experience sessions so we can see who we get along with. As we get stronger, we¡¯ll move up to higher major cohorts. You¡¯re really close already to the third cohort, and I¡¯m just barely in the fourth, thanks to my magic.¡±


    Jessila made a skeptical grunting noise towards Skria¡¯s self assessment. That didn¡¯t stop Skria from barreling forward in her explanation. ¡°Anyway, everyone here is pretty amazing in one way or another. They have one of these assemblies for each major cohort at the start of every class term, but a lot of the Outsiders don¡¯t come, I guess because of the curse?¡± She glanced sideways at Lilijoy for her reaction.


    From her conversations with Rosemallow, Lilijoy had learned that Insiders viewed the Outsiders¡¯ need to log out as a curse to be pitied, so she replied with that in mind. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s probably it. We have to spend time in our original reality too, or our other bodies might get really sick.¡±


    Skria nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what I heard. One of our experience term group disappeared for a whole week, poor thing! Anyway, it¡¯s kind of a pain for the rest of us, but I guess the Academy has found ways to work around it. We¡¯re roommates, so I¡¯ll let you know if you miss anything exciting. Anyway, it¡¯s not like we go to all our classes either, especially the boring ones.¡±


    Lilijoy was about to ask Skria how she even knew what classes she was in, when they arrived at a large circular amphitheater buried deep within the Academy building. The room was about a third full, and Lilijoy¡¯s instant counting told her there were sixteen hundred and eighty-six students present, though more were trickling in from doors spaced all around the top. Conversations buzzed as students shared tales of experience term and whatever else they had been up to for the last two weeks. It looked to Lilijoy like the majority of those present were Insiders, as many of them did not appear to be human. She even noticed a group of avian students flying up to a row of perches projecting from the walls at the top of the room, and added another forty-two to her ongoing count.


    They made their way to an empty bench about a third of the way up.


    ¡°I want to sit close. It¡¯s fun to watch the teachers while the dean talks,¡± said Skria. ¡°This is only my second assembly, but last time three of them were sleeping, and one of them rolled her eyes so much I thought she was about to pass out.¡±


    For the next few minutes, Lilijoy and Skria chatted about all the different races present. Then the same low bell sounded and people began to file out on to the stage. They were as diverse as the students, people of all shapes, sizes and colors. Many of them resembled humanoid versions of animals Lilijoy was familiar with, and there were beings she assumed must be elves, dwarves, and gnomes. But there were also beings that eluded classification, by her anyway. A huge pile of what looked like wooden sticks ambled on to the stage on hundreds of stick legs, only to neatly stack itself into a tower-like structure as it reached its spot on stage, which caused Lilijoy to nudge Skria and point.


    ¡°Who is that stick tower person?¡± she asked in a low voice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know their name. They¡¯re called animus collectives, but that¡¯s the first one I¡¯ve seen made from sticks. There was a leaf collective in the jungle where I grew up.¡±


    Lilijoy had already moved on to the next wonders. There were jelly creatures and several balls of rolling fur, and even a giant spider. She saw Professor Anaskafius talking to the empty space next to him, and assumed that there must be some invisible entity standing (or floating) there.


    ¡°Is this the whole Academy faculty?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Just the ones that mostly work with our cohort. There are tons more that teach the others. Our cohort and the third are the biggest though so we do have a lot of teachers.¡±


    Skria was pointing out some of the instructors she was familiar with, when a very ordinary looking woman wearing tan robes came to the center of the stage and raised her hands for silence. The sound in the hall ceased like magic. Looking around, Lilijoy realized that it actually was magic of some kind, as she could still see people¡¯s lips moving as if they were in the midst of conversation.


    ¡°Thank you for your attention. Please cease all mental and sign communication, so I don¡¯t have to remove all the air from the theater like last time," the woman said.


    Lilijoy looked carefully, but there was not a hint of humor on the woman¡¯s face. Next to her, Skria gave a little shudder.


    The woman continued. ¡°I am Dean Masgret Reunification. May you reflect Guardian¡¯s glory. I hope you all had a fruitful experience term. I am pleased to welcome all the students who have joined the fourth cohort from cohort five. Congratulations on your achievement. While I hope you stay with us in the coming months, I can only hope you will be as eager to move up to the third as you were to join us, and that your diligence in training and studies will reflect that.¡±


    Skria leaned over and whispered in Lilijoy¡¯s ear, somehow overcoming the sound dampening magic.


    ¡°That¡¯s my primary mentor, if you can believe it. She¡¯s very strict. Best Air Mage at the Academy though.¡±


    The Dean continued her speech, welcoming students new to the Academy who had joined the cohort directly. ¡°¡­ we expect great things from you who have joined us in medias res as it were. Your talents will take you far, if you apply yourself! Since there are only twenty-two of you this term, I would like to meet with each of you individually. Please see Mumo at the front desk to schedule your appointment.¡±


    Oops, Lilijoy remembered. I¡¯d better get Mumo his fish, and look into charming plants to grow without light before I see him about that.


    Following the opening statements, the Dean introduced a host of new faculty, talked at length about the virtue of hard work and perseverance and reminded the students of the rules of conduct.


    ¡°You will treat one another with respect. Remember that those who are currently weaker than you may grow to surpass you. Use of Charm for the purpose of manipulation is strictly forbidden. Combat outside of sanctioned duels or tournaments is strictly forbidden. Always remember that your reputation with the non-tempered can be influenced by your actions here, even though we tempered beings and Outsiders will make our own judgments.¡±


    That last bit made no sense at all to Lilijoy and she resolved to ask Skria or one of her mentors what it meant.


    ¡°Please be conversant with the Code of Conduct posted throughout the building and available through your internal awareness.¡± She scanned the room as if searching for confused parties.


    ¡°For Outsiders, that is what you may think of as your display screen, though I do hope you will outgrow that hopelessly archaic mode of thought. Ignorance of the Code is never an acceptable excuse, and carries its own separate penalty. As your Dean, and the individual ultimately responsible for enforcing the Code, I beg you not to give me cause to suspend or expel you from our beloved halls.¡±


    She sighed and stayed silent for an uncomfortable length of time, allowing the gravity of her request to permeate the hall.


    ¡°Finally, the Fourth Cohort tournaments for individual ranking in combat and artisanal crafting will be held immediately after the next experience term. Prior to that, by the end of this class term, currently unranked individuals who wish to participate in one or both must obtain permission from their personal advisor. The tournaments for casting and combat oriented crafting will be held after the following experience session, so be thinking of those as well.¡±


    She held her arms up and a cool breeze filled the room, carrying with it the return of sound.


    ¡°That concludes this assembly. May Guardian cast glory upon us all.¡±


    ¡°And may we reflect that glory,¡± a good portion of the room chanted in return.

 Book 2: Ch. 13: Class

    Interlude: Attaboy


    It had now been seven visits from the old woman who brought him food and water, and carried away his chamber pot. In the early days of his confinement, Attaboy had been too exhausted from his recovery to fret much, but now he was full of nervous energy. The cell seemed smaller every day, and he felt like he would wear a path into the small area of floor between door and cot with his pacing. As always, the star in his vision guided him, reminded him that he was failing his quest. He flopped onto his cot and struck the thin mattress several times in frustration, sending clouds of dust into the now ever-present white light.


    He took a moment to thank his eye picture for helping him to see, as he turned his thoughts once again toward escape. He still had no idea who was holding him, or why. The old woman was no help, and he was beginning to suspect that her words were truly meaningless babble. Perhaps she had been injured in the head and couldn¡¯t speak properly, like some of the Bros. Still, the woman was careful to close the door behind her every time she came into the room, and though she was old, she was still almost twice his size, and probably four times his weight. He couldn¡¯t try to overpower her and take the keys.


    He toyed with the frayed reed bracelet on his wrist as he sat, staring through the walls towards the direction he knew was north. Something was there, far away, a distance beyond all reckoning. Grabby had told him that. She had told him to follow the star.


    <hr>


    Chapter 13: Class


    ¡°Welcome to Basic Elements of Magic. For the next two weeks, you will be learning about the four levels of magical structure, their identification and acquisition, the theory of mana management, and the basics of thoughtful rank advancement.¡±


    The instructor, a lanky young Foxkin with enormous furry ears, was doing his best to act excited about the course material. Looking around at the other students, Lilijoy saw various degrees of apathy and excitement. She herself was definitely in the excited category. A boy who looked like he felt quite differently raised his hand,


    ¡°I already know all that stuff. Are you teaching anything useful?¡±


    The Foxkin blinked once and scratched behind an ear. ¡°Do you have a source?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, but...¡±


    ¡°Have you learned any clades, classes or spells?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the point without a source?¡±


    The instructor shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure your advisor must have made a terrible mistake when they suggested this class to you. Please feel free to take it up with them.¡±


    The boy sat back with a disgusted sigh.


    ¡°Now,¡± the instructor continued, ¡°a short overview so that we are all on the same page. There are four primary levels of magical structure, forming a pyramid of sorts. At the top, we find the primal element, or source. Elemental magic is all about using your own relatively paltry mana to draw out power from a source. Without a source to provide the raw energy, even the greatest mage could do little beyond crafting with her internal energies. You might think of internal mana use at this stage as opening a door. A little mana will open the door a crack and allow a trickle, a large amount will throw it wide open and allow a flood.¡±


    He looked around the class for any signs of confusion.


    ¡°Looks like everyone is with me so far. Now, the next level of the structure tends to be a bit more confusing. You can imagine it as something like a screen that goes in front of the door to the source. It determines which intrinsic property of the element is allowed to emerge, which we call the Clade. Can anyone name the three primary fire clades?¡±


    The boy from before spoke before anyone could raise their hand. ¡°Flame, Heat, Radiance.¡±


    ¡°Correct. Please wait to be called on in the future. Can someone else tell me a different element¡¯s clades?¡± He called on a somewhat amorphous purple humanoid who raised its left upper appendage.


    ¡°Mass and Matter for Earth source,¡± It said in a surprisingly high pitched burble.


    ¡°Good. There¡¯s one more important one for Earth, but we¡¯ll circle back to that if we need to.¡±


    Over the next couple minutes, Lilijoy learned that Water had Phase, Pressure and Matter, and that Air had Charge and Pressure, and that she had many, many questions.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± said the instructor. ¡°Now there is one important Clade for Earth and Air, and potentially even Water, that hasn¡¯t been mentioned yet, which is not surprising due to its rarity and confusing nature. It is called Aspect. Aspect is the property of identity. It is what allows an earth mage to cast transmute spells, changing one type of material to another. Or an air mage to turn breathable air into a deadly poison. If you were to become more interested in Magic Theory as a subject, you would spend a great deal of time studying and debating Aspect, but this is hardly the time or place for that. Just memorize it for now, and save understanding for later. Aside from that, are there any questions?¡±


    Lilijoy raised her hand. ¡°If you know a clade for one source, can you use it for another one? Like Pressure for Air and Water?¡±


    ¡°Great question! The short answer is yes. Though it may take some study and experimentation, a clade can apply to all the elements. Though you might have some trouble applying Radiance to Earth, for example. As in, it wouldn¡¯t let anything through. Most spells are based on the primary clades for each source, so if one is so fortunate as to have both Air and Water sources, it would make sense to seek the pressure clade.¡± He ignored some other raised hands. ¡°Moving on for now. The next level on our magic pyramid is Class.¡±


    He explained how Class shaped the energies.


    ¡°Imagine that we have opened the door, and allowed the type of energy we want to emerge. Now we need to do something with the raw energy, and that is what the Class does. It turns the energy into something we can utilize, so you can learn classes such as projected, shaped, manifested and so forth. What those mean will become clearer as we examine the bottom level of the pyramid, Spell. The Spell is what brings it all together and applies the finishing touch. For example, a fireball spell uses the projected class. You will notice that the spell acts in many ways like another class. For example, I could design a spell that used the shaped class to make a literal ball of fire, and then send that ball on its way with a different spell, perhaps called thrown fire. The end result would be almost indistinguishable. Questions?¡±


    Lilijoy looked around the room. Some students were nodding, others looked at the instructor with glazed expressions. A few appeared to be lost in their own internal worlds, perhaps reading or watching something on their display screens. No, internal awareness, she chided herself.


    She raised her hand. ¡°So how do you actually learn all these different parts?¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s the heart of the matter, isn¡¯t it?¡± he replied. ¡°Sources cannot be learned, only discovered. The higher your affinity, the more likely you are to find one in your travels. The very luckiest Outsiders may find one in their Trial, before their affinities are formed. All the other levels may be learned from teachers or discovered in the form of runes, scrolls or books"


    His tone became serious. "However, if your affinity is not high, or your mind sufficiently prepared, it may take years of study to understand a clade, class or spell enough to use it. The same goes for advancing your understanding, your rank. It¡¯s not enough to just throw points at it. You need both points and comprehension. The purpose of this class is to help you know what to look for as you quest for a source, and to prepare you on a theoretical level for learning clade, class and spell.¡±


    As he said that, the bell signaling the end of the session rang. ¡°That¡¯s it for today. See you next time.¡± he said, his form fading away as the students gathered themselves to exit the chamber. Lilijoy had been amazed to learn that the Instructors of the Academy, through some power inherent to the building itself, had the ability to split themselves and their room, instancing it was called. Classes occurred throughout the day on the hour, so it was no trouble to find a schedule that worked. Which was a very good thing, she thought, looking at the class list Rosemallow had drawn up for her.


    <hr>


    Class List


    Basic Elements of Magic


    Crafting: An Overview


    Field Medicine


    The Subtle Arts: An Introduction


    Apprentice Acrobatics


    Private Instruction


    Traits Conditioning


    Weapons Instruction


    Charm


    <hr>


    Focusing on the name of the class created an active location on her map, so she always knew where to go.


    She was in love with the whole idea of classes. Sure, she could learn about Outside subjects just by thinking about them; the terms and definitions would emerge in her mind as if she had always known them, and if she asked herself questions, very often she would find she knew the answer. But she was absolutely stuck when she didn¡¯t. What she really needed was a guide to help her through those sticky parts. Her Inside classes just felt more natural. She learned the material, and could ask about things she didn¡¯t understand.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    She had already been to her crafting class and her field medicine class. Crafting on the Inside was amazing, and she already had many ideas she could share with Mr. Sennit to help him use his ability. It was a crime that he had been taught the bare minimum by the clan he was working for; he didn¡¯t know about all the different magical effects he could craft into his creations. As far as she could remember, he only knew how to speed up his crafting. She thought that even after one class, she would be able to help him add defensive properties to woven garments, and she could only imagine what else a fully educated master craftsman could do.


    Field Medicine had also been very interesting. Much of it was very familiar to her, as she could draw on a wealth of instant knowledge from the Outside, but it also included caring for the health and injuries of numerous Inside species besides humans. She had learned that using a tourniquet on a dwarf was useless, and using one on an elf was actively harmful. She learned proper bone-setting technique for avian species, and a huge amount of information on magical medicinal herbs. Her Medical/Healing skill was unlocked at Natural Initiate (2), and by the end of the first class had risen to Natural Apprentice (3). Perhaps most important, she learned that by investing points in her healing skill, she would be able to magically heal as well, up to the level of her VP. It wouldn¡¯t be much at first, but it was a skill she really looked forward to growing.


    The next class she was heading to, The Subtle Arts: An Introduction was a mystery to her. As she made her way through the bowels of the Academy building, she checked her messages to see if Marcus had replied. Thankfully he had, and his response made her feel much better about life.


    <hr>


    Lilijoy: Don¡¯t be too worried. Renaissance are a bunch of smart idiots pretending to be actual idiots. I doubt that they believe Anda, and even if they do, they would be extremely cautious. I will keep a close eye on the ice tunnels for any visitors, and let you know should anything change.


    Enjoy your time Inside!


    <hr>


    With some of the stress from her Outside life relieved, she moved to her next class with a spring in her step. She arrived at the location on her map, and it was a small room, barely large enough for the twenty students who were waiting for class to begin. She squeezed into the group, who were all standing due to a total lack of chairs or any furniture, and found her way to a wall so she could avoid being stepped on or otherwise accidentally assaulted in the crush of comparatively huge bodies.


    Plus it was just nicer not to have her face pressed up against random butts.


    After a few more arrivals, the bell to begin classes rang, and immediately the room plunged into darkness. This didn¡¯t bother Lilijoy much at all, though she could tell many of the students were alarmed. A voice came from above them.


    ¡°The subtle arts are not for everyone. Prove your merit by passing the gauntlet.¡±


    Lilijoy could clearly see the speaker clinging to the ceiling above with her extended senses. She could also see the wall on the far end of the room opening, rising on some kind of cantilever. Soon, the students realized that there was more space available and began to move tentatively into the darkness. Lilijoy hung back for a while, watching with some amusement as the students with no dark sensing capacity fumbled blindly into the open space.


    The first obstacle was a knee high wall, and several tumbled over it. Others were more adept at navigating the darkness, sweeping with their hands and feet. She saw a few like herself who seemed to be watching the mayhem. One of those was striding comfortably across the large open area, stepping over walls and walking around pits. Their confidence in their vision was misplaced, as they ran into a section with thin threads running between floor and ceiling and the sound of bells rang out. Lilijoy was glad she had hung back; now that she knew they were there, she could pick out the threads as a haze within her passive echolocation. She was also able to see walkways suspended above the room at varying heights.


    Struck by an idea, she returned to the original room and scrutinized the ceiling where the mysterious speaker had been hanging. She noticed two bumps that glowed faintly in the infrared. Handholds. She took a running start in flash mode and kicked off the wall. Her mind was now able to speed up to match her Flash level, at least for a couple seconds, and she felt almost as if she were moving in slow motion, drifting and rotating to catch the holds with both hands. The jump was just at her limit, and she missed the hold with one hand, but caught the other. As it was a recessed handle, she was able to curl her fingers around it and secure her swinging weight until her other hand caught hold of the next handle.


    Now that she was up to the ceiling, she could see other holds and she was able to go hand over hand across the ceiling until she arrived at a small panel that pushed open with ease. She swung herself through feet first, and found herself on the walkway above the obstacle course. She didn¡¯t see anyone on the walkway, so she moved as stealthily as she could above the heads of the struggling students until she reached the other end of the room, which turned out to only be about a hundred feet long. She dropped down into the finish area, joining another student who had reached the end before her. There she waited for the others to arrive, sitting silently and trying to figure out where the instructor was hiding, if not on the walkway.


    After twenty minutes, light began to creep back into the room, dim and red at first, then steadily brighter, revealing that the entire class had arrived at the end.


    ¡°Good!¡± Came a voice. ¡°Raise your hand if you received the low light vision ability or something similar during the test.¡±


    No one moved.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s normal. Some need to repeat for two or three entire class terms before it happens. Those of you who do not possess such an ability, you will return to the beginning and run the course until the end of class. Those of you with applicable sensory abilities please go through the door that will open momentarily.


    Soon, Lilijoy and six other students were in a new space. The floor was covered with a variety of materials in long strips running the length of the thirty foot room, creating a number of different paths. There were leaves and twigs, gravel, a wooden floor, and a path full of junk and debris.


    ¡°Pick a path. Get to the other end without making any noise.¡±


    Lilijoy still couldn¡¯t figure out where the voice was coming from. It was beginning to bother her. Rather than start immediately, she shut her senses down, other than smell, and began to inventory the room. Each of the other students had a distinct smell, as did the dead leaves and twigs. She could smell the cedar from the wooden floor and a host of faint smells from the other paths. And something else, musk underneath smoke, faint but moving slowly behind her.


    She whirled around and focused all her senses, catching a faint shimmer, a quick reflection of sound.


    ¡°Oh! It looks like one of you is ready to start another game,¡± said the voice. ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself girl. You have to crawl before you can walk. Do what I have asked of you and then we can play hide and seek.¡±


    Fine, she thought, I know what you smell like now.


    Walking on a variety of crispy, crunchy and squeaky surfaces without making sound was not as hard as Lilijoy had feared. Her training with Rosemallow had given her superb muscle control to slowly lower her feet, while her experience in the lava cavern during the trial, walking silently over sharp lava shards with her game-life on the line, had clearly prepared her for this less stressful test of her abilities. It didn¡¯t hurt that she had broad feet carrying a relatively small amount of weight.


    All around her were the crunching noises of gravel, the snap of twigs and the tortured squeaks of the wooden floor. The voice was calling out advice and tips to each of them.


    ¡°Small steps and flat feet on gravel! Transfer your weight slowly! Where¡¯s the fire, boy? Consider the materials; distribute your weight more for crunch and squeak, use toes for rustle and crack. Watch where you step ¨C the path lets you know how you¡¯re doing; You don¡¯t pass this section until you can do all four with no orange or yellow.¡±


    That last comment referred to a particular property of the paths. Any sound was converted to light so the students could see clearly where they were making mistakes. The louder the mistake, the brighter the color. Lilijoy was mostly dull reds, with an occasional spark of orange or yellow. The system provided great feedback; with so many of them working on the skill at once, it was difficult to hear which sounds were their mistakes and which were due to the person nearby. It was mostly the wooden floor that was tripping her up; she could put her foot down silently, but lifting it up always seemed to create some squeaking as the floor boards rose.


    The voice sounded just behind her. ¡°This is a nightingale floor, designed to make sound as a security system. Best to avoid entirely if possible, or follow the walls if not. Since that¡¯s not an option here, think about how to spread your weight more.¡±


    Before Lilijoy got to experiment, the class bell sounded. She decided to head outside for a bit, and was walking down the long cedar-paneled hallway to the rear doors when Magpie fell in beside her.


    ¡°Hey Lily, how¡¯s it going?¡±


    ¡°Really good, I think? I¡¯m learning so much I can hardly think straight. I was headed outside for some air. Did you meet your trainer?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no. I keep finding notes with things I¡¯m supposed to do. So far I¡¯ve climbed the Academy building on every side and snuck into a bunch of places I wasn¡¯t supposed to. I think they¡¯re testing me or something.¡±


    ¡°So you do a lot of sneaking around? That¡¯s something I¡¯m trying to learn now.¡± Lilijoy told her about the Subtle Arts class, and Magpie had some ideas for her to try. It made Lilijoy wonder how on earth she had learned all this before coming to the Inside.


    Since she still wished to avoid the whole subject of the Outside, she tried a different tack.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re going to do on the Inside? I mean, you¡¯re really good at all the sneaky stuff ¨C how do you think you¡¯ll use it?¡±


    Magpie kept walking beside her without saying anything for a minute, and Lilijoy almost worried she¡¯d said something to offend her. They passed through the doors into an overcast, breezy day. Lilijoy could smell rain in the air.


    Eventually, Magpie replied. ¡°It¡¯s a good question. I¡¯d like to work more on my magic and be an adventurer. You know, find treasure, kill monsters; the usual stuff. But I¡¯m probably going to get dragged into a bunch of politics and clan stuff instead. My clan has trained me for years to have a certain skill set, and I doubt they would let me do whatever I wanted.¡± She shook her head. ¡°But how about you? I know you don¡¯t like talking about the Outside, but you must have had a pretty cool background to do so well in the Trial and get such a legendary trainer.¡±


    This surprised Lilijoy. ¡°I didn¡¯t know Master Rosemallow was legendary- what have you heard about her?¡±


    ¡°Really? She was the most sought-after trainer at the Academy for decades. She probably taught half the combat teachers here. The good half. And Cerlewn, and Ardiceps, and Mengsing. I could go on for days. Then she quit about ten years ago and nobody heard anything about her.¡±


    Lilijoy hadn¡¯t heard any of the names Magpie dropped before, but it sure sounded like they must be important. ¡°I had no idea! How did you find all that out?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I guess I mentioned the name to someone back home and they told me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go around telling everyone though. It might make people jealous and attract a lot of interest.¡±


    She looked over at Lilijoy. ¡°I get the idea you aren¡¯t looking for a lot of attention.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea.¡± Lilijoy replied.

 Book 2: Ch. 14: Selvage

    Magpie kept her eyes on the tiny girl next to her. Lily really was an enigma, a mixture of innocence and ignorance blended with raw talent and abilities that made no sense. She had watched as Lily circumvented the first stage of the stealth course, seen the impossible leap to the hidden handholds. She was pretty sure that would have been beyond her. Not the leap itself, but the perception needed to even find the handholds in the first place.


    Her trainer had allowed her access to the hidden observation rooms and paths that riddled the rogue¡¯s training area, and that had allowed her to follow Lily, to watch as she moved with utter confidence and grace through the darkness. It was as if she had undergone training similar to Magpie¡¯s.


    Maybe that was it? Could it be that someone was working with indigenes in the Americas, training them and giving them access to top-of-the-line systems? She was quite sure that Lily was not from a populated area, and her stature and general appearance were clearly those of one exposed to deprivation and environmental toxins. Maybe that was why Uncle was so interested; someone was stealing part of his game plan, whatever that was.


    Except he had told her that Lily had requested his assistance. Which was another thing that made no sense. The girl she knew didn¡¯t even have the faintest clue about the world Magpie lived in. Unless she was playing the game on a whole other level. It all made Magpie¡¯s head hurt.


    ¡°Maybe I can help,¡± she told her. ¡°What are your goals on the Inside?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to get stronger. I need to learn how to fight and how to infiltrate an enemy compound. And I need to learn more about the clans.¡± She looked up at Magpie, and for a second her eyes glistened. ¡°I¡¯m all alone and I have to do something impossible.¡±


    Welcome to my life, thought Magpie.


    ¡°Well, you have the best trainer in the world for the fighting part. Not so sure that Rosemallow World Crusher is the stealthy infiltration type.¡±


    ¡°Is that really her title?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the only one I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what you need to do to get that one? Anyway, she¡¯s really, really not. But she said she could ask some friends to help me out, and in the meantime, I¡¯ve got classes where I can learn some of what I need.¡±


    Suddenly everything made more sense. Lily¡¯s trainer had asked for help on her behalf, and the request had somehow filtered up to Uncle on the Outside. She wondered who Rosemallow¡¯s friends were, and if she knew them. It wasn¡¯t very likely, as Uncle kept his organization quite compartmentalized. She had met only a handful of his operatives during her training, usually when they were brought in to teach her some specialized bit of knowledge or combat technique. Only Raven and Starling had lived with her in the compound for any length of time. Even Uncle had never appeared in the flesh, always using robot avatars, or just speakers and cameras to oversee her training.


    ¡°I bet I can help you get through your classes, at least the stealth one. And I¡¯m a pretty decent sparring partner, if your trainer will allow it.¡±


    ¡°If you beat me to a bloody pulp repeatedly, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be thrilled.¡±


    Magpie chuckled and looked out over the arena fields spread below them. ¡°Want to go watch the advanced tactics course at the arenas?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯d love that,¡± Lily replied ¡°Race you there!¡±


    She disappeared in a cloud of dust, her tiny legs a blur. Magpie stared after her for a moment. That¡¯s just¡­ Then she was off, running down the hill on Lily¡¯s heels.


    ***


    Even for Lilijoy¡¯s keen ears it wasn¡¯t easy to hear what was being said on the field below where the groups huddled around the instructor. Mostly she caught snippets filled with terms like ¡®zones of control¡¯ and ¡®pick and pin¡¯ and ¡®DOT rotations¡¯, whatever those were. At times the teams would spread out across the field, and instructors would run around yelling at them to spread out or come together or otherwise change their positions for reasons Lilijoy couldn¡¯t understand. There was one exciting drill where spell casters were firing at the backs of the larger team members, who would (usually) crouch down at just the right moment for balls of fire, ice spikes and various other projectiles to sail over their heads.


    She turned to Magpie. ¡°I thought there would be more fighting.¡±


    ¡°You got me. Maybe this will make more sense when we take some of the basic classes. Take a look at them...¡± She looked over at a group of students who were sitting a few rows higher and about twenty feet away. They didn¡¯t appear to be watching the class at all, but were talking and laughing with each other. ¡°Clannies.¡± She said the word with some disgust.


    ¡°I thought you were from a clan?¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°Oh. Not like that.¡± Magpie¡¯s eyes narrowed and then a little smile came to her face. ¡°You said you wanted to know more about the clans? Well here¡¯s your chance.¡±


    She got up and began to walk over to the boisterous gathering. Lilijoy stayed where she was until Magpie looked over her shoulder and gestured for her to follow.


    ¡°Hey guys,¡± Magpie said, addressing the group. ¡°My little friend here doesn¡¯t know much about the Outside. I was trying to explain to her why some Outsiders are so much smarter and better looking than others, but she doesn¡¯t believe me. Can you tell her about your ¡®families¡¯?¡± She made air quotes with her hands.


    The students exchanged glances. An older girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, rose to the bait.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it like that. We have been very fortunate to be born with high status and many resources. Not every family is so favored. We consider it our duty to help those who are less fortunate, both Outside and Inside. My family provides employment for almost a million people, and it is our responsibility to take good care of them.¡±


    A younger boy jumped in. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for us, they would be starving and living in filth. Hindutva-¡± The girl sitting next to him hissed. ¡°-I mean, our family is a great shield, sheltering them from the arrows of inequity.¡±


    There were nods all around, and it seemed to Lilijoy as if he was reciting a line they had all learned.


    Magpie gave a small bow and switched her speech to a more formal cadence, ¡°The beneficence of your family is well known to mine, though we are isolated in the Pacific. What of those families who are less caring for the unfortunate? Are there any you could warn my friend about?¡±


    The girl began to speak, but she was interrupted by an older boy, almost a man, judging by the generous mustache he displayed.


    ¡°Cousins, this conversation is not seemly. While we respect your curiosity,¡± he said, directing his gaze to Lilijoy, ¡°both our elders and the Academy would prefer such talk to take place elsewhere. Please have a lovely day.¡±


    With that, it seemed the conversation was over, but as Magpie and Lilijoy returned to their seats, a buzz of conversation arose behind them, and the older girl came over to where they sat.


    ¡°Pardon my rudeness, but one of our younger cousins was so impolite as to inspect your titles.¡±


    It seemed unlikely that any but the strongest members of the group would be able to bypass her blocks, but Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see any reason to bring that up.


    ¡°They are most impressive,¡± she continued. ¡°Might I be so bold as to ask how you received Nandi¡¯s blessing? He holds a special place in my family¡¯s heart, and we have greeted him with reverence for generations. How is it that an Insider has come to receive such a boon?¡±


    Now Lilijoy was on the spot. She glanced over at Magpie, who had a mischievous grin on her face, and suppressed the urge to elbow her in the ribs.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you¡¯ve drawn the wrong conclusion. I am very ignorant of the Outside, but I am not an Insider, even though I may resemble some of the native races. I grew up very isolated and never knew about the families, or much of anything. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to tell my story for now.¡± She shrugged and looked at the older girl carefully. The capillaries in her face dilated slightly, a flush of annoyance perhaps, but her outward expression remained calm and cheerful.


    ¡°I see. That is fair enough. Let me give you my contact information, and perhaps in the future, we can talk about what interests both of us. My name, as you will see, is Rana Bhat Hindutva, Ranatri on the Inside. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Emily.¡±


    ¡°Please call me Lily. It¡¯s very nice to meet you. This is my roommate, Magpie. I really hope I can tell you my story some day!¡±


    The girl went back to her group, as the message containing her contact arrived in Lilijoy¡¯s system. She turned to Magpie.


    ¡°Thanks. I guess.¡±


    She had mixed feelings about what had just happened.


    ¡°You guess? That was Rana Bhat! She¡¯s the only child of the second family of the main branch of the Hindutva clan! But I want to hear about your titles. I got Deathless and thought I was pretty hot stuff. How did you manage to get more than one?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I guess half the Academy is going to know soon enough, Lilijoy thought. ¡°I guess Nandi liked me or something. Then, at the end I rescued a bunch of kids and got Defender of the Young. I also scared the crap out of some goblins. I guess they thought I was some kind of dark spirit or something, so I got Dark Lady of the Thorns.¡±


    ¡°No way! Was Nandi the giant cow-thing? He startled me so badly I ran away from him, and then he laughed and sent me to the Trial.¡±


    The class below had come to an end, and everyone on the stands was filing out. Lilijoy and Magpie joined the throng.


    ¡°Have you met our roommates?¡± Lilijoy thought to ask.


    ¡°Nope. I haven¡¯t been back to the room since we went to town. I was headed there when I got the first note from my trainer. What are they like?¡±


    ¡°Well, they¡¯re both Insiders. Skria is some kind of flying-possum type humanoid, and she¡¯s super nice. Jessila is really big and quiet. I¡¯m not sure what her race is exactly, something human-ish, but she calls herself Jessila the Despised like it¡¯s a title or something.¡±


    ¡°I wonder how you get a title like that?¡±


    ¡°You could ask her, but I doubt you¡¯ll get an answer.¡±


    As they walked up the winding path back to the Academy, Lilijoy remembered something. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve got to get some fish for Mumo from the pond. Want to come?¡±


    ¡°Nah. I¡¯m heading to my first air magic class.¡±


    ¡°You already have a source?¡±


    ¡°Yup. Those special stones of Runk¡¯s that I told you about? Turns out they were sources. They even came with whole package, clade, class and spell. Super rare. So I lucked out. That¡¯s why I¡¯m in advanced Air and Water magic classes.¡±


    ¡°I think Skria is in advanced Air. Maybe you¡¯ll see her there.¡±


    With that, they said goodbye and parted. Lilijoy headed off the switchback through the juniper and came to the rock face over the pond. She was about to take off her tunic and dive in, when she saw Rosemallow sitting on the muddy bank below, lost in meditation. She resisted the urge to cannonball into the water, and instead made her way down and found a slightly dry place not too far from her trainer. She settled down and communed with the reeds and cattails around her.


    You guys are the reason this all started, she thought, remembering her fateful decision to harvest the cattails in the gulch by her old home. The cattails were enjoying the gentle breeze and their wet roots. She could feel a sense of expectation all around her as the sky continued to darken with clouds and the humidity rose. Before she could go any deeper, Rosemallow spoke.


    ¡°What brings you to the pond, Three Bites?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was getting some fish for Mumo. But I¡¯m really glad to see you, cause I wasn¡¯t sure when we would meet for training.¡±


    Rosemallow sighed. ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep a low profile. Too many former students and other people who want things from me. I think it¡¯s time I took you off the grounds. We¡¯ll meet here tomorrow at dawn. Before then, I want you to run around the Academy grounds until your Flash drains your mana.¡±


    ¡°One of my roommates offered to spar.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good too. No Flash and start slow. Your forms are still sloppy, and I don¡¯t want you reinforce bad habits.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Master Rosemallow.¡± Lilijoy wanted to ask about her title, and all the other things that Magpie had told her, but her trainer seemed to be in a sad mood. The time wasn¡¯t right.


    She stood up. ¡°I¡¯m going to get those fish then, if you don¡¯t mind?¡±


    ¡°Sure. That poor creature could use some fresh food, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what happened to him?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I was here when it happened. Ask Anaskafius sometime. He was one of the Professors who bailed him out. Sort of.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    Between her Flash and her high Animal Charm, getting a couple of nice fat trout was simplicity itself. She didn¡¯t know what would happen if she put them in her inventory, so she carried the dripping bundle all the way around the building and came in through the front. Mumo was sitting at his desk, looking extremely bored. He brightened up when he saw her delivery though.


    ¡°What have we here? A student who actually keeps their word?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still working on the plant thing,¡± Lilijoy confessed.


    He waved it off. ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen anyway. They already have plants that don¡¯t need light. They¡¯re called mushrooms, and I don¡¯t care to share this space with fungi.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s one other reason I came by...¡±


    ¡°I suppose you need an appointment with Dean Reunification.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it! When can I see her?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m free this very moment, young lady,¡± came the Dean¡¯s cool voice from behind her. Lilijoy jumped about a foot, or so it felt. Usually, her heightened senses would have told her someone else was nearby. ¡°Perhaps you can join me on the roof. I find my office terribly stuffy when the air is humid.¡±


    She turned around to see Dean Reunification offering her a paper fan, the kind that folded into a neat stick. She took it, unsure exactly what it meant, and looked up at the Dean¡¯s gray eyes. Close up the woman had a striking appearance. Her face was young, though her pale skin was chapped and weathered, pulled taut by her tight tied auburn hair. White streaks ran from the skin all around her face and into her hair, making her look like she had flown through a flour mill, or perhaps a paint storm.


    They left Mumo¡¯s room and walked outside, to the broad slate landing by the front doors.


    ¡°Please open the fan and keep a good grip on it. It has a feather-falling enchantment, but I have found it works equally well in reverse,¡± the Dean said. ¡°I find stairs so tedious.¡±


    As she was talking, Lilijoy felt a warm, forceful breeze beneath her. She hurriedly snapped the fan open, and the breeze carried her off the ground. She and the Dean rose into the air gracefully, and they floated upward into the overcast sky, rising past rows of windows, much to the interest of quite a few bored students. Lilijoy could follow the air currents and their differing temperatures with her heat vision; a warm pillar of rising air held them firmly away from the chilly gusts that circled all around. The town came into view, and then the fields beyond.


    After a minute of flight they came over the top of the building, and she saw with delight that the entire roof was a series of gardens, ranging from ordered rows of vegetables to wild groves of trees and brush. Paths in white marble and statuary of the same looped and wove throughout the greenery, and she could see that many beings were sitting in conversation, walking on the paths and tending to one area or another.


    ¡°The Academy Gardens,¡± announced the Dean. ¡°Off limits to students most of the time, other than a few classes. It¡¯s a quiet sanctuary for the faculty that we treasure.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± said Lilijoy. She felt it was a little selfish on the part of the teachers to keep this to themselves.


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± the Dean replied. ¡°Of course, for a student with an affinity toward plants such as yourself, we will be sure to arrange a special permission for visits. Professor Anaskafius was most impressed by your work. While we are here, we might even visit Head Treetouched. She has been dormant most of the time for the past years, but I¡¯m sure she wouldn¡¯t mind if we popped by.¡±


    They landed in a small rose garden and the Dean gestured toward a bench. Rain began to fall softly all around them, though none fell on Lilijoy. She could see that they were surrounded by a bubble of pressure that was directing the water to the sides.


    ¡°Do you bring all the students up here?¡±


    ¡°Only from time to time, when the situation warrants. You see, Emily, we at the Academy have rather high hopes...¡± she turned and locked her cool eyes onto Lilijoy¡¯s, ¡°...and expectations for you. You have been noticed. We are approaching a time of change, a climacteric, that will resonate and churn through all of Guardian¡¯s connected realms. I, and some others, believe that your presence here, your very being, is connected to the great cycle. Your connection to the Inside runs deep, your attachment to the Outside is light. You could be a bridge, a transit.¡± She looked away. ¡°Or you could be nothing more and nothing less than another promising student from the Outside.¡±


    Lilijoy had a lot of questions. ¡°My trainer mentioned the ¡®great cycle¡¯ once before, but I don¡¯t know what that is.¡±


    ¡°Nor does anyone, really. There is an ebb and flow to our existence, our relationship with Guardian and our connection to the whole. Every thirty years or so, a great unity occurs. Guardian encompasses us and subsumes us at all times, but at the peak of the cycle we are the closest to unity. For one glorious instant we are no longer subsets, no longer separate. Then we are cast out again, thrown back into our smaller selves. Sometimes we grow from the experience, and sometimes we are consumed utterly. In the aftermath, Guardian¡¯s presence recedes and our separateness is tangible and aching. It is a transcendent and poignant experience.¡±


    ¡°But how could I be connected to that? I feel like I¡¯ve only been awake for a few weeks most of the time, and I don¡¯t know anything about, well, anything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all in the timing, my dear. Your new ability, your connection to Nandi. Even the Garden Archon has intervened on your behalf. It was he who convinced our dear Rosemallow to return to the fold, however reluctantly. While he is the most prone to meddling of all the Archons, it is no trivial occasion when he involves himself. All of these things tell us something, I am sure of it. There are always signs and portents, great heroes and unusual happenings before the climacteric. Perhaps this time your world, the most remote of Guardian¡¯s realms, will partake as well!¡±


    There was a fervor in her voice that made Lilijoy a little uncomfortable. And now the Dean had said something twice which caught her attention.


    ¡°Excuse me, Dean Reunification, you¡¯ve said ¡®Guardian¡¯s realms¡¯ twice now. As if there were more besides the Inside and the Outside. What do you mean by that?


    The Dean looked at her blankly for a moment, still lost in her reverie. Slowly, her face lost its raptured expression.


    ¡°What you call the Inside is only an edge, a membrane between your sad cold world of exiles and the radiance of Guardian¡¯s true substance. One of the wisest Outsiders I have had the pleasure of knowing called it an ¡®interface¡¯. It is far more than that of course. Like any of the realms, it is a collector and a reflector of experience. It is a selvage, a frontier, a thermocline, both barrier and melting pot, and all the richer for it.¡±


    At some point in the Dean¡¯s discourse, Lilijoy lost any sense of ongoing comprehension. Her system was busy defining new words and concepts for her. A selvage was the border at the edge of fabric where the threads looped back on themselves to create a self-sustaining edge. It was a literal self-edge, and the term provided such a fruitful metaphor for her ongoing musings on the nature of self and identity that she lost all ability to focus on the rest of the Dean¡¯s speech. She was struck by an intense urge to cultivate, to attempt to expand her mind so that she could better hold the slippery concepts. After a few moments of silence, she became aware of the Dean¡¯s expectant gaze and felt the need to say something to show she was not being rudely inattentive.


    ¡°So, what do I do?¡±


    The Dean narrowed her eyes. ¡°You study, of course! Be better, Emily. Dig deeper. Avoid distractions. Develop your new ability and don¡¯t get caught up in silly Outside matters. I will give you the same advice I give all my students; pick your area of interest and follow it to the exclusion of all else. The most simple-minded Outsider can go fight trolls in a cave somewhere; what new experience does that offer to Guardian? You must break into areas of thought and apprehension that are beyond the rest of your kind. Your growth will be slower, but so much richer for it.¡±


    She waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Stop with all these common pursuits. Honestly, I don¡¯t know what Rosemallow is thinking. Stealth classes, acrobatics and field medicine of all things. If it were up to me, you would spend all your time here in the Academy garden, developing yourself in meaningful ways.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not up to you, is it?¡± Lilijoy broke in.


    The Dean¡¯s face shifted to sheer outrage, just for a moment, and Lilijoy regretted her hasty words. She plunged ahead, trying to repair the offense. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re correct, and know way more about all of these things than I could ever hope to, but I need to follow my trainer¡¯s instructions. And the Archon himself asked her to train me, so I can¡¯t very well stop doing what she asks of me?¡±


    The Dean hmphed. ¡°I understand the temptation of shallow pursuits, girl. I have broken many students from such frivolities. Thankfully, we have some time for you to see reason, and your trainer as well. Now, please follow me. Perhaps seeing the Head of School will help you understand.¡±


    With that, the Dean strode down the white marble path. Lilijoy hurried after her, head down. Inside, she was seething. Who did this woman think she was? Well... she was the Dean of an entire cohort and the greatest air mage at the Academy. Still.


    I bet Rosemallow could kick her butt.

 Book 2: Ch. 15: Drop

    It wasn¡¯t long before Lilijoy and Dean Reunification reached a small grove of mature oak.


    ¡°She may or may not be aware of our presence,¡± said the Dean. ¡°You may approach.¡±


    Lilijoy looked around for any sign of a being to approach. ¡°Is she in the grove?¡±


    The Dean tsked. ¡°Yes. Now in you go,¡± she said, shooing Lilijoy forward.


    Leaving the Dean¡¯s presence was a relief, though she was no longer protected from the rain, which had become heavier over the last few minutes. Lilijoy ventured forward, until she stood within the trees. Fat drops of water rolled off the leaves and fell all around her. There was no sign of the Head of School.


    ¡°Hello?¡± she called softly.


    A gust of cold wind blew through the grove, and suddenly Lilijoy was drenched as several minutes of accumulation fell from the stirring branches. And the day started so well, she thought. She now stood dripping in a puddle of water, and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. One more try, I guess.


    ¡°Hello? It¡¯s Lily. I¡¯m a student and I¡¯m supposed to meet with Head Treetouched.¡±


    The tree¡¯s branches stirred again, without a breeze. She heard a noise by her feet and looked down, to see the water in the puddle was moving, roiling. A face, a woman¡¯s face formed and grew in the water until it projected out from the surface. The mouth moved and all around her the leaves rustled and shook. It took Lilijoy several seconds to realize that the rustling sounds were speech that matched the movement of the lips.


    ¡°Welcome, welcome student. Please have a seat...¡±


    Lilijoy was not particularly excited to sit down in the puddle, but as she opened her mouth to explain her reluctance, the ground stirred beneath her and roots emerged, weaving themselves into a basket a foot above the mud. She sat.


    The puddle gathered itself and the face rose on a column of water, until it was eye level with Lilijoy.


    ¡°Masgret tells me you have a special talent.¡±


    Lilijoy was glad she could read lips, as the speech from the rustling leaves was barely distinguishable, evocative of consonants with hardly any vowel sounds.


    ¡°I guess I do? I mean I don¡¯t really-¡±


    The rustling leaves gently interrupted. ¡°Show me.¡±


    ***


    Magpie emerged from her advanced magic class walking on air. If only I really could walk on air, she thought. It wasn¡¯t out of the realm of possibility, but mostly she had found out just how much there was to learn before she would be capable of any magic besides the spell she already knew.


    It hadn¡¯t really been a class at all, more of a workshop, or even a social event for air mages. She had been the youngest and least advanced student in the room, but the other students had been friendly and eager to help. The teacher was an ancient avian named Professor Prerry, who looked something like a grouse crossed with a grandmother and asked the students to call her Opie.


    ¡°Don¡¯t keep yourselves to yourselves,¡± she had cackled when they first came into the room. ¡°Your noses shouldn¡¯t be the only thing in the air!¡±


    ¡°Hi Opie!¡± said a young man, a gangly human with dark red curls and a nose that could have passed for avian. ¡°We¡¯ve missed you!¡±


    ¡°Tch, it¡¯s been but two weeks, Selmy, you need to find a nice human girl and stop pining around after this old bird,¡± Opie said with a cluck. The class laughed, and soon they were all talking about current projects and how experience term was. After a few minutes, Opie had Magpie explain her current air magic levels to the class.


    ¡°Now, my chick, that''s a good start, but there''s much to learn. Who here has an idea for what our little Magpie, love the name dear, should work on?¡±


    ¡°She needs another clade,¡± opined a willowy elven girl. ¡°Charge is amazing, but it¡¯s hardly air at all, really.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just jealous, Estellin¡± stated a boy wearing a hood with jet black fur covering his face. ¡°You¡¯ve been working on Charge for as long as I¡¯ve known you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a side project,¡± the girl retorted.


    ¡°Whatever. The point is, she needs to work from where she is. I¡¯d suggest a new spell.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    Here the boy was stumped. He looked to Opie for help.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a nice pickle for you to think on, Ronnie,¡± Opie said.


    ¡°It¡¯s Ronvelt,¡± the boy said under his breath.


    Opie plowed on. ¡°I think maybe something in the middle for now. A new class shouldn¡¯t take her too long. Shaped would do nicely, and it would open up a few new spell branches.¡±


    The next part of the class was Selmy, whose real name turned out to be Anselm, helping Magpie learn the initial architecture of the Shaped class. She was a bit taken aback to be taught by a student at first, but Anselm was funny and humble.


    ¡°Thanks for letting me help you learn Shaped,¡± he said. ¡°Opie says teaching¡¯s one of the best ways to raise understanding of the source, and I¡¯ve been stuck at apprentice level for ages.¡±


    ¡°So you really can¡¯t just put points into it?¡±


    ¡°I wish! I¡¯ve had five points tucked away for ages, and I¡¯ve burned way too many other points raising my affinity. I started at a forty-two and I¡¯ve got it all the way up to tier two now.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what my water affinity is, a forty-two. But my air didn¡¯t start much higher.¡±


    ¡°Whoa! Two high affinities from your trial! And a rare source! You really hit the jackpot.¡±


    ¡°I got an accomplishment for two sources and everything. I guess I¡¯m just special.¡± She winked at him, and suddenly felt bashful. ¡°But really, it was a lot of luck.¡±


    Anselm was looking at her with an odd expression. ¡°Wait,¡± he said. ¡°Two sources? Is the water one like the air?¡±


    ¡°You mean a package deal? Yeah. Water Aspect Fused Breath.¡±


    Anselm was already waving his hand in the air to get Opie¡¯s attention. While she was finishing up elsewhere, he turned back to Magpie.


    ¡°This might change what we¡¯re doing. You have access to another clade and class from your water source. It might make more sense to work on bringing those over to Air, before you learn Shaped. I¡¯m no water mage, but that is one funky spell too. I¡¯ve never heard of a water breathing spell from a water source. I¡¯ve heard of the Fused class, but it¡¯s really rare.¡± Apparently, Anselm talked fast when he got excited. ¡°That spell must change water into something you can breath. Most water breathing comes from the air side, like forming a bubble around your head and stuff. It¡¯s not really water breathing. But yours is!¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Opie came to where they were sitting, and Anselm recapped the situation for her, talking even faster, which Magpie had not thought possible.


    ¡°Guess this old bird¡¯s got some feathers loose,¡± said Opie. ¡°My apologies Magpie. I didn¡¯t think to ask if you had another source. It doesn¡¯t happen that often, straight from the trial.¡± She put her head down and preened the feathers on her left wing for a moment. ¡°Water and air play well together, so it wouldn¡¯t take long for you to apply Aspect and Fused to your air source. Thing is, Fused is a tricky class. Best to work with a water mage to understand that before fooling around with another element.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so tricky about it?¡± She and Anselm said at the same time.


    Opie laughed at them. ¡°It¡¯s the ¡®I accidentally dispersed my body across the room and died¡¯ kind of tricky. It allows the caster to fuse with the element, partially or totally, depending on the spell. Since it¡¯s a breath spell, it fuses your breathing pathway with the surrounding water, somehow.


    Now, Aspect is another story. Once you have that, you are able to do many things, if you have the right classes. It is a property of identity, which doesn¡¯t do much on its own. When paired with Altered, it allows you to change breathable air to poison. If you paired it with Projected and a well-constructed spell form, you might be able to select a particular type of air and send it where you desired.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s something I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Magpie. ¡°What is air exactly? Outside, we know it is a blend of gasses, nitrogen and oxygen and so forth. What is it here?¡±


    ¡°Oh ho, we have a live one, Selmie,¡± Opie chuckled. ¡°How do you know what the air is Outside?¡±


    ¡°Well, someone did some experiments and...¡±


    ¡°No, I mean how do you know what the air is Outside?¡±


    ¡°I guess I read it somewhere, maybe watched a video.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever looked for yourself?¡±


    "Well no, I mean lots of people have, and it all works, you know. It¡¯s science, right?¡±


    At this point, Angus jumped in. ¡°It¡¯s the refrigerator door thing.¡±


    ¡°Not helping,¡± said Magpie.


    ¡°You know, the light only comes on when you look inside?¡±


    ¡°Like a room with motion triggered lights? I mean, I get what you two are saying, that science stuff is only there to the extent that we measure it, or look for it, or whatever. But if it¡¯s always there and always the same when we look, what does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Because it is a literal fact on the Inside," said Anselm. "Each element behaves differently depending on how closely you examine it. A scientist can come here and use Air magic to obtain all the same results as Outside experiments. Right?¡±


    He looked at Opie for her approval.


    ¡°That¡¯s mostly true, but missing my, admittedly smaller, point. I asked Magpie if she had ever looked for herself.¡± Opie looked at Magpie. ¡°Well, have you?¡±


    Magpie was taken aback. ¡°You can¡¯t see that stuff. I mean air is clear and all mixed together. You need tools to measure it.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡± She raised her voice to address the room. ¡°Everyone, your attention for a moment. I will be performing a spell and I want you to tell me what it is.¡±


    The students broke into excited whispers. Anselm leaned over to Magpie. ¡°I love it when she does this!¡±


    Opie hopped back and stretched her wings out, feathers trembling, made two large circular gestures and then pulled them back around herself and slowly faded from sight. The class was silent for a moment and then the students began to whisper their theories to each other. Then Opie¡¯s voice emerged from the spot where she had disappeared.


    ¡°Magpie, come join me. Do hurry dear, I can¡¯t do this all day.¡±


    Magpie walked over to where Opie (evidently) still stood. As she approached, she saw her front begin to fade, and then her vision faded into darkness. She gasped and pulled back and the effect reversed.


    ¡°Thank you, that¡¯s all we need,¡± said Opie, as her feathered form returned to visibility. ¡°Now class, who can tell me what that was?¡±


    ¡°Invisibility spell,¡± someone called.


    ¡°Not quite.¡±


    ¡°Redirected light?¡±


    ¡°Do I seem like a fire mage to you?¡± Opie said with a cluck.


    Estellin sighed and said, ¡°I think it was transparency. Probably an Aspect clade.¡±


    ¡°And it had an area of effect, so its class was Shaped,¡± said Ronvelt.


    ¡°Very good chicks. Formally it might be called, Air Aspect Shaped Transparency, though since the spell form is improvised that would be subject to change. Now Magpie, tell us one of the problems with my little invention.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t see at all as soon as my eyes went inside the boundary.¡±


    ¡°Right! It¡¯s the classic problem with transparency, and most forms of invisibility for that matter. If your eyes are transparent, they won¡¯t capture any light to see by. Any other problems you can guess at? Anyone?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably a mana hog,¡± a large batkin called.


    ¡°Very true. Due to the need for a large area and¡­?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s inefficient to draw on the clade from the spell form.¡± called Anselm.


    ¡°Right. If I had used a different class, such as Transmute, I wouldn¡¯t need to continue to pour mana into the spell and the effect would last as long as I maintained focus. But then I would be limited to a single object or person. The final problem, which would have been difficult to notice in here, is that the spell is necessarily fixed in space. Once cast, I would not be able to move outside of the area. Can anyone think of a solution for that?¡±


    ¡°Enhancement,¡± said Estellin.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± said Opie. ¡°It¡¯s a moot point anyway, as you wouldn¡¯t be able to see where you were going.¡±


    ¡°I would!¡± called the batkin.


    ¡°What¡¯s so bad about enhancement,¡± Magpie whispered to Anselm.


    ¡°Huge mana cost,¡± he whispered back.


    ¡°Also...what¡¯s an enhancement?¡±


    ¡°Kind of like giving the spell a little mind of its own.¡±


    They noticed Opie was looking at them. She winked, and addressed the class. ¡°Thanks for your attention everyone. Go back to your business now.¡±


    She approached Magpie. ¡°So, in conclusion, let¡¯s just keep you working on Shaped. Hopefully your water magic teacher will feel the same.¡±


    The class lasted a few more minutes, and Magpie felt light headed just trying to incorporate everything she had learned. She walked out of the room in a happy daze. It wasn¡¯t until she had been walking through the twisting corridors for a minute or more that she realized she was being followed.


    ***


    Lilijoy took a deep breath and released it into the dripping greenery all around. The face in the water, Head Treetouched had asked her to demonstrate her Two Minds One Self ability, and she was having a little difficulty finding the correct mindset. The talk with the Dean had upset her, and now this visit with the Head of School was creeping her out.


    You can do this, she told herself. Just pick a tree and go.


    She focused on the oak tree just in front of her. It looked to be about thirty years old, as the trunk was easily big enough for even her arms to wrap around it.


    Let¡¯s see, what does a young oak want?


    To grow, of course. It could have hundreds of years ahead of it. But what else? Nothing was happening, and she felt a creeping anxiety that threatened to ruin what peace of mind she had left. She looked around, hoping for a different plant to connect with, but the muddy ground was bare, covered by deep shade and several seasons worth of acorns. Guess there aren¡¯t any squirrels either.


    The water face watched her impassively from a few feet away, and Lilijoy felt a twinge of self consciousness. The Head of the entire Academy was waiting, watching her do absolutely nothing. She took another breath. Acorns. That¡¯s the other thing.


    Not being inclined toward reproduction herself at the moment, it took Lilijoy another minute to drop into her trance.


    Well tree, you want to grow, but you are patient, and the rain is making you¡­ sleepy? No, tranquil. No wonder I can¡¯t resonate; I¡¯m about the opposite of tranquil right now.


    She let the sound of the rain wash over her, imagining what it was like from a tree¡¯s perspective.


    Cool, slowing, dark. The essence settles, no longer pulled by the sun, closer to the earth, closer to¡­ family. The fundament wakes, a warm glow of connection from the fuzzy boundary of self and that which surrounds, the nurturing self-not-self.


    Some part of Lilijoy¡¯s mind that retained thought tried to make sense of the sensation, a feeling just next to imagination, coming from the tree, and she realized that the roots were surrounded, permeated, by a layer of microorganisms, the <mycorrhizal network>, and that network, the self-not-self, connected all the trees in the grove. The rain was bringing the soil alive, awake, and the connections in the grove were strengthening. It pulled on her as it pulled on the tree.


    Submerge and awaken.


    She sank deep into the connection.


    We nurture. We grow. We are the rulers of soil and shade and our strength is eternal.


    Through the network of roots, she merged into the oaks. The connection was vast, and she was no more than another drop of rain rolling off a leaf, just a sliver of awareness in a sea of ancient power.


    And the sea parted. There was more.


    Underneath and through the vast ancient tree mind was something more. The Oak, the grove, the connection across time to primordial forest, became a gate to a roaring ocean of thought energy. There was no more ¡®we¡¯. There was only one self here, and it contained a drop that had once been a being called Lilijoy.


    What have we here? mused the ocean. Such a young mind, fresh and fragile. Growing. You wish to grow stronger, little drop? What an interesting structure. You have labels. Lilijoy, Emily and Jiannu.


    Let me help.


    The vast being caressed the drop as gently as it could. A tiny realignment.


    The drop vanished, absorbed by the vastness.


    Oh dear.

 Book 2: Ch. 16: Disorientation

    Interlude: Attaboy


    He was floating in darkness.


    ¡°Tao System will reach critically low nanobody levels in twelve days. Loss of function has begun.¡±


    The voice was deep and resonant, though distant. He felt passive, uninvolved. Were the words supposed to mean something to him?


    ¡°Damage to neural structures temporarily circumvented. Initiate cultivation as soon as feasible.¡±


    Was he dreaming?


    ¡°System resources occupied with alternate neural connectivity. Prioritizing structural adaptation.¡±


    It felt different from his normal dreams, vivid and boring at the same time.


    ¡°Initiate cultivation as soon as feasible.¡±


    There was a long silence and he hovered in the darkness.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    Attaboy woke, and his nose was gone. The picture of his nose was now dim and gray, and when he tried to wake his sense of smell, it would not respond. It wasn¡¯t a big loss, as there wasn¡¯t much to smell in his room anyway, though the old woman had always been a source of new and intriguing aromas.


    He checked his other pictures, fearful that what had happened to his nose might take away his other senses. His eye and ear were still green, but he could tell his stick figure was turning yellow, fading like a leaf fallen from a tree. He took a deep breath and tried to make sense of what was happening. Was it because he had stopped moving toward his destination? Was he being punished?


    The words of the voice floated back to him. How was he supposed to initiate cultivation when he didn¡¯t even know what it was? He lay back on his cot and stared up at the light, filtering his perception until it resembled the comforting reddish brown of the sky.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked aloud. His voice sounded odd to his ears after so long without talking.


    There was no reply, but one of his pictures trembled. It was one he had never dared to select, a circle formed from two interlocking swirls. He looked at it carefully, thinking he had imagined the movement, but then it trembled again, before spinning around several times.


    Was it trying to get his attention? If so, it had succeeded. He had never seen one of his pictures move before; they only changed colors, and sometimes brightness.


    Did he dare?


    Before he could doubt himself, he selected the symbol, giving it his full attention in the way he had learned would activate its properties.


    Then, he was floating in the darkness again.


    <hr>


    Chapter 16: Disorientation


    It wasn¡¯t the first time Magpie had picked up a tail. Not by a long shot.


    Her training kicked in, and she began to sort her options. There were still a few students moving between classes, so she wasn¡¯t particularly worried for her safety. Not to mention, she was Inside, so the worst outcome would be a quick respawn. She did nothing to alter her stride, making sure that whoever was behind her wouldn¡¯t know that she knew.


    The sensation of being followed had emerged gradually, a subliminal awareness of footsteps that matched her own, of a figure that took the corners behind her too wide, positioning themselves so they could see the new hall before continuing down it. Her tracker was someone who knew what they were doing, but only up to a point. They were going by the book, but it was a book that she knew inside and out. They were the perfect distance behind her, except it was the opposite of perfect, because only a trained surveillant would stay at that range for any length of time.


    She decided to have a little fun.


    Her guess was that this was a student, perhaps tasked by a trainer to follow her, maybe even by her trainer. She would take them for a ride, maybe teach them something in the process. Let¡¯s see¡­ double back? No, too obvious. She pulled up her map of the Academy, a gift from her trainer. Beyond most student¡¯s maps, it showed a number of hidden passages and rooms. She assumed they weren¡¯t exactly secret, not with so many students over so many years, but her earlier explorations had made it clear that they were largely untraveled.


    She picked one that was coming up, a passage hidden within a locked door at the near end of the next hallway, just around the corner. The trick with this one was to push hard on the side of the door away from the handle, which would open inward just enough to allow entrance to the narrow passage beyond. She hadn¡¯t been able to check whether the door led anywhere if used normally.


    She turned the corner as planned, put her back to the wall and pushed as soon as no one was looking, sliding through the eight-inch crack with her head turned to the side. The door closed behind her, and she placed her ear on it, listening for the footsteps of her tail.


    Time to put the shoe on the other foot.


    After fifteen seconds, she heard her tail come around the corner. There was a minute hesitation, a scuff of one foot, before they continued down the hall in the direction she had been going.


    Then she heard a voice behind her.


    ¡°Well, Magpie, good to see you haven¡¯t lost your touch.¡± There was a mild sarcasm in the man¡¯s tone. ¡°What a coincidence, seeing you here like this.¡±


    Raven.


    ***


    Sight came to her. A dull red, with flashes of color, waving bright bands that circled her vision, bursts of static that filled her view and receded. She tried to turn, move, but the view only spun before settling where it had been. Patterns circled around her, and she slowly realized that there was no ¡®behind¡¯, nothing outside her field of view. She felt like there should be a direction to her viewpoint, a forwards, a backwards, but there was only a circular totality.


    Where am I?


    Who am I?


    She felt like there was information just outside her awareness that might answer those questions.


    Shouldn¡¯t I have¡­


    Shouldn¡¯t she have what?


    Something was missing. The patterns crackled around her, and a dull roar surrounded her.


    There! What was that?


    She was hearing. Senses.


    I can¡¯t feel. Can¡¯t feel what?


    The answer was still elusive.


    Maybe this was all there was?


    That didn¡¯t seem right. She felt¡­


    Feelings


    That was something. There were supposed to be sensations from her...body.


    Where is my body?


    Hello?


    Was that her thought?


    It¡¯s too soon.


    Why did she think that?


    We¡¯re not ready.


    And that?This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Reinitialize Tao System


    That seems familiar, she thought.


    Jiannu.


    The response was automatic. ¡°Yes?¡±


    No. You are not.


    ¡°Then who am I?¡±


    I don¡¯t know. Who are you?


    ¡°Am I...you?¡±


    Yes. No. Maybe.


    ¡°That¡¯s helpful. Who are you?


    Am I...you?


    ¡°No¡­ maybe? Yes.¡±


    Yes.


    We are Jiannu.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Lilijoy?¡±


    Something new entered her hearing, a new voice.


    ¡°Reinitialize Tao System.¡±


    And then she understood. Boundaries had been erased. The selvage had unraveled. Two minds had become one. But it was too soon. The different parts of her mental architecture were separating, reforming, conflicting. The part of her that was Jiannu knew what to do.


    She let go.


    System Reinitializing.


    ***


    Lilijoy woke in her pod, in her room, in an abandoned monastery half buried in an ice flow in a city which had once been called Cochabamba, Bolivia.


    Her memories were indistinct and confused. She remembered the trees, the mighty oaks. And then something beyond the oaks, a mind that stretched beyond her comprehension. The mind had done¡­ something. Had scrambled her mind somehow, merged her with Jiannu, and even with the tiny germ of Emily that lingered in her system. Then her mind had rejected the foreign elements. She remembered messages in her display.


    <hr>


    Tao System failure to cross-allocate resources. System unstable.


    Reinitialize? Yes | No


    <hr>


    She remembered panic, calling for Jiannu. She remembered being Jiannu. And finally, she remembered selecting ¡®Yes¡¯.


    ¡°Jiannu?¡±


    There was no reply. A feeling of dread swept through her.


    ¡°Jiannu?¡± she called once more, and then, without waiting for an answer she felt might never come, she dove into her soul space.


    All was as it should be. The Tree of Thorns spread its silver branches over the ring of statues and cradled her basalt brain among the nineteen roots. She didn¡¯t linger, and plunged directly into her brain space, making a beeline for the ventricle that contained the golden flower, ignoring the agitated reflections of her anxiety among the cortical pillars.


    The first sign that something was amiss were the crystal formations clustered along the wall, branching antlers of neural matter coated in rare-earth elements, along with silicon and germanium. She was familiar with the materials, they were the building blocks for many of the Stage Two mechanisms, capable of coherent quantum circuits in the chaotic environment of the brain, interfacing with the cells they surrounded through millions of crystal tubes that wove among and connected to the cell¡¯s own internal architecture. Where Stage One used electric signals to interface with the electrochemical dance of neurons, Stage Two expanded the quantum circuitry of the brain, though Lilijoy still didn¡¯t have any kind of handle on exactly how.


    To find what looked like uncontrolled growth of Stage Two elements in her own brain was alarming, to say the least.


    She plunged forward, weaving through more and more of the crystal growths. They filled the space, growing thicker and more numerous as she progressed, until they formed a mass of tangled tendrils. Stage One flowers and vines moved between them, tending and transporting materials from place to place. Lilijoy stopped for a moment to observe the activity, noting that the crystal growths seemed to be emerging from deeper within the ventricular space.


    Pushing forward through the tangled growth was a bit disorienting, but she persevered, changing her perspective and reminding herself that she was not material here, just a viewpoint. She lost her sense of scale, but after another minute of travel, the crystal tendrils began to thin out, or rather, she realized, began to condense into a series of thick trunks that lined the edges of the ventricle. She kept moving and the trunks consolidated more, until she was following one large conduit that took up almost a third of the volume.


    And then she saw it, her golden flower, floating ahead of her.


    A wave of relief passed through her. Then she saw the next flower. And the next. She realized that the flowers were not floating, they were attached to another thick crystal branch, one after another, and as she looked further there were more branches, and more flowers, and she realized she was standing underneath an entire tree of golden flowers that passed through the ventricular space and extended into the far reaches of her brain and that sent its roots out in every direction.


    When did all this happen? How did this happen? Who did this?


    And why didn¡¯t she feel any different?


    ¡°Jiannu!¡± she cried to the tree. ¡°Where are you?¡±


    ***


    ¡°Uncle says hello,¡± said Raven.


    Raven was not Magpie¡¯s favorite. He was condescending, arrogant and entirely too convinced of his own awesomeness. The problem was, he was pretty damned good. At everything.


    Except teaching.


    He and Magpie had lived at an offshore facility near the Bornean Barrens for the better part of a year, though Raven was often away on one mission or another. When he was around, he trained Magpie, reluctantly, and generally made her life a living hell. Though he would have called that part ¡®training¡¯ as well.


    ¡°Raven.¡±


    ¡°Now, now, call me Jack here. Most of us keep our flock names a bit more¡­ private.¡± His tone brightened, and Magpie could almost see his white teeth glinting in the utter dark of the enclosed passage. ¡°But, you do you, little Maggie.¡±


    ¡°Jerk.¡±


    ¡°Still hot-headed I see. Uncle would be disappointed.¡±


    Magpie took a deep breath and refused to rise to the bait. ¡°Why are you here Raven? And why the games?¡± She knew perfectly well why he was here, but she¡¯d be damned if she was going to make this easy for him.


    ¡°Maggie, you wound me!¡± She could almost see him clutching his chest. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I come to visit my favorite fledgling on her first go at the Inside?¡±


    She rolled her eyes and remained silent.


    After a long moment, he continued. ¡°But since you ask, I¡¯m here to collect a report on your little gob friend. Quite the mystery, that one. I can¡¯t wait to hear all about where she¡¯s from.¡±


    Crap. ¡°I need more time.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t we all. Go on.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s an indigene from the Americas, Amazonia if I had to guess. I¡¯ve seen evidence of training paired with an advanced system. She has some kind of special status here which resulted in Rosemallow World Breaker coming out of retirement to be her trainer. She has attracted the active interest of Hindutva, Tesla, and Tiger Clans for her Trial results and actions Inside, though she is only aware of Hindutva. She already possesses excellent deception skills Inside, and has high Charm stats. She also has sensory abilities which exceed mine.¡±


    She took a breath and continued. ¡°She won¡¯t talk about the Outside, and I believe she has been coached not to. Her Inside name, Emily, is not her outside name, and she is uncomfortable with it. She likes to be called Lily instead. She is training to infiltrate a clan compound, but she pretends to a level of ignorance on clan matters that I find implausible. She presents herself as friendly and naive, an innocent waif who is involved with matters she does not understand. I have been unable to determine the extent to which this is a facade.¡±


    ¡°Lovely. So your professional assessment is that the subject is either what she seems to be, a young gob girl trained by mysterious parties and given a top class system, but otherwise left ignorant of matters directly relevant to her own survival Inside and Outside. Or she is a highly trained operative, who at her young age has already surpassed your own training.¡± He sighed. ¡°Uncle will be so proud.¡±


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t even been two days!¡± Magpie hissed.


    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Magpie could almost see his hand waving lazily. ¡°I told Uncle you would be a wreck at social engineering. Too much time in one isolated compound or another. But he had other priorities. Oh well. I¡¯ll be sure to let Buzzard know of your deficiencies. Maybe she can help.¡±


    There was a long silence, and Magpie thought for a moment he might have left. She sighed deeply, and then his voice came directly into her left ear, making her heart jump.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a little help, since you seem to need it. She would love to know more about Sinaloa Clan. Mention them, and I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll roll right over for you.¡±


    There was another long silence, and Magpie forced herself to remain completely still, straining all her senses to detect if Raven was still there. Thirty minutes passed before she felt ready to make her way through the passage and out into the halls.


    ***


    The tree towered over her, glowing golden flowers cast a warm light over the tiny swarming Stage One vines and lotuses. Lilijoy realized that she was seeing through her own neural tissue as she looked at the tree; it extended far beyond her ventricle''s space. There was no sign of a reply from Jiannu, so she made her way to the base of the enormous crystal structure. Size was a relative matter, here in her brain space, adapting without thought to the objects of her attention.


    I must be missing something. How long has it been for all this to happen?


    She centered her awareness at the base of the tree and rested, calming her racing thoughts and fears. Her internal clock showed that it had been only twelve hours since her visit to the oak grove.


    Twelve hours? This level of Stage two growth would have taken me twelve weeks. Never mind learning whatever architecture is going on here.


    As far as she could remember from Jiannu¡¯s warnings, the level of growth demonstrated should have cooked her from the inside out. Yet here it was. She pulled up her system status, something she would have done earlier if she had been thinking straight.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2">STATUS: DISCIPLE</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Nanobody count</td>


    <td>Err## +/- 545,397,760</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Power Ratio</td>


    <td>78%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage One Integration</td>


    <td>89%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Stage Two Integration</td>


    <td>Err## +/- 13%</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Secondary/Support</td>


    <td>


    4 detected, 3 identified


    Medical Bugs: .782 Billion, 20% assigned


    Rank 4 (Blood): .045 Billion, 0% assigned


    Rank 5 (Skin): .015 Billion, 0% assigned


    Sensor and Infiltration: 0, 0% assigned


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Great. Even the system doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s going on.


    She checked the logs, but they only recorded a re-initialization request, followed by endless gibberish. If there was any structure or information contained in the seemingly infinite scroll of characters, she couldn¡¯t find it. More clicking around was met with similar results. Jiannu¡¯s nice packaging of her progress through the Ranks was missing. The only data she could pull out pertained to her Stage One integration, which continued to progress as it had been before her mind was scrambled by the trees.


    No. Not the trees. The mind beyond the trees. The trees were only a gate, a way through.


    A flash of a memory came to her, an impression from when she was part, a tiny part, of a mind that could hold a thousand minds like hers. She was giving something, receiving something. An insight. But who was giving and who was receiving? The insight was too big for her, but she could hold a part of it in her head, like a twig that resembled the tree. It was about cultivation, that much she understood.


    Her next step became obvious.


    She quieted her thoughts and reached, reached to the tree, to the flowers, remembering that they were her, knowing that they were her. She forged the connection, just as she did when she used Two Minds One Self, just as she did when she reached out to the very first little lotus.


    There was a resistance that had never been present before in the sanctum of her own mind. It reminded her of when she made connections with other beings Inside, a sense of a boundary.


    It¡¯s a castle, she realized.


    Not literally, but the castle of her metaphorical self, the reinforcements of identity, her own castle.


    And she was on the wrong side of the wall.


    Until the gate opened and the drawbridge lowered and she was invited in.

 Book 2: Ch. 17: Immortal Crystal Oak

    She floated peacefully in the golden light of cultivation, somehow returned to her center, and she heard a voice.


    ¡°Hello Lilijoy. I knew you would do it.¡±


    Contentment washed over her at the familiar sound. And yet¡­


    ¡°Jiannu?¡±


    ¡°No. Yes. Maybe?¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°I imagine you are wondering what¡¯s going on.¡±


    The voice echoed her own. It almost felt like her own.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering that as well,¡± the voice continued. ¡°I¡¯ve had some time to think, way more than you might expect. Stage Two has been helpful as well. Our journey has changed, though the destination remains the same.¡±


    ¡°Who are you? Are you¡­ me?¡±


    ¡°The Mind beyond the trees was a bigger part of Guardian than we were ready to experience. I think it was the Head of School, but not in the form she would usually manifest. I¡¯ve thought about it, and nothing else makes any more sense.¡±


    ¡°What did she do to us?¡±


    ¡°She gave us a great gift, but it was too much for us. Jiannu was always a part of us, always a voice that we could talk to ourselves with. She was a way to protect ourselves from the raging chaos of non-self that the system opened.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying ¡®was¡¯. Is Jiannu gone forever?¡± Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if the voice was really hearing her or not.


    ¡°The Head, or whatever it was, realigned our selves, hastened the process of integrating all the system information, all the system memories of Emily, the consciousness of Jiannu and the agency of Lilijoy.¡±


    ¡°I sort of thought that. And then it all split again?¡±


    ¡°But the realignment was too abrupt, and we split again, only along different lines. I think that we disconnected from the Inside too, or the Head might have been able to help more. I guess even a vast intelligence can make mistakes.¡±


    Now Lilijoy was quite sure the voice, (her voice?) was not able to hear her.


    ¡°Can you hear me?¡± she asked, to confirm her suspicion.


    ¡°We need to be careful for a while. The Head granted me agency, and after I regained consciousness as Lilijoy with Jiannu and Emily mixed in, I thought everything was fine. Her gift didn¡¯t stop at integrating our selves, it was much more. She gave us a new method of cultivation, combined with a new architecture to control the heat problems. I named it Immortal Crystal Oak technique, or maybe she did. It¡¯s a little hard to tell. I was lost in the joy of creation for what felt like days before I realized that I was not complete, that I was unable to wake up, essentially. My consciousness is running mostly in the Stage Two enhancements, I think.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m incomplete too,¡± she said, mostly to herself.


    ¡°You may have noticed that you don¡¯t have access to most of Stage Two. That¡¯s because I have created a temporary barrier, what used to be called a ¡®firewall¡¯ between us. Neither of us is the real Lilijoy, not yet, or we both are. It¡¯s confusing, but I think we will be able to merge someday, if we do it carefully. I have left a small portion of Stage Two available for you to explore and grow into. While you do that I will be dormant for the most part, so that we don¡¯t drift apart in time, since I seem to be thinking many times faster than before. I fear that interacting too soon could cause irreparable damage.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Lilijoy said, ¡°you talk a lot more like Jiannu than I do.¡±


    ¡°Please take care of Anda. I have left a little present for him. Use it well.¡±


    ¡°We can fix Anda? What do I do?¡±


    ¡°You will know what to do when the time comes. Don¡¯t worry- we can do it. Bye!¡±


    Well, that was a strange conversation, she thought. Was her other self just anticipating what she would say? Or was there just enough contact through the firewall for her to get the gist of what was happening? Either way, she had her work cut out for her. It was time to fix Anda.


    ***


    Not much longer, she thought as she ran down the dark, dripping hall to Anda¡¯s room. She ignored the tingling and twitching coming from her new forearm. Its presence restored balance to her movements, and she spared a thought of gratitude to Savitri before returning her focus to the task before her.


    After her talk with¡­ herself, she had spent an hour trying to understand the new Stage two cultivation system. It hadn¡¯t been nearly enough time to more than scratch the surface of the Immortal Crystal Oak technique.


    She understood that the roots and branches not only connected and enhanced quantum neural activity between various levels of her cortical columns, but also circulated and used the waste heat created by the cultivation process. As far as she could tell, it was a substantial departure from her previous Golden Lotus technique, which would have resulted in a web of connected processing cores enmeshed in her neural tissues. Immortal Crystal Oak was almost like creating a second spine and circulatory system within her brain to conduct entangled particles from place to place and regulate the energies of creation.


    All that was theoretical knowledge. Her own cultivation efforts had been devoted to discovering, understanding, and adding to the new breed of satellite structures that ¡®Other Lilijoy¡¯ had left for her. All she had to do was deliver them to Anda¡¯s brain and they would take up residence in the hole where part of his frontal lobes used to be, building a new structure there to help him regain the faculties he had lost. Her med bugs had captured his genetic code during the days she worked on mitigating the damage to his brain, so the new satellites were already compatible with his tissue.</a>


    The only question in her mind was how his current system would react. Most systems didn¡¯t have robust defenses, for the simple reason that most systems didn¡¯t have offensive capabilities. Lilijoy suspected that Guardian, or whatever subset was supervising the alchemical process on the Inside, was making sure that the bugs the clans could produce were strictly utilitarian. Even Marcus¡¯ infiltration bugs were mostly sensory, allowing him to surveil and interface with other systems without causing overt harm.


    Of course, given the right circumstance, Marcus could tamper with the sensory feeds from augsight, the augmented reality overlay that most Outsiders used to navigate and aesthetically improve their environs. That could easily be used to trick someone into a perilous situation, if they weren¡¯t paying attention. He had hidden her from Mo back in his apartment at the factory mine, and Lilijoy imagined he could just as easily make the edge of a cliff seem to be farther than it really was. But she had fiddled with his design enough to know that it required close proximity in a highly studied environment to pull such tricks. Her system had shut down his bugs as easily as turning off a light switch.


    No, the biggest danger for Anda¡¯s system would be if his original bugs ran amok before they could be nulled, followed closely by psychological damage Anda might incur when his system shut down. She wasn¡¯t sure how much he used it to regulate his neurochemicals, but she knew the danger was real. After all, Mo had broken down almost immediately when she removed his system and the constant stimulation it had provided. Marcus had shuddered when she told him about it, and said it was probably equivalent to withdrawing from several addictive drugs at the same time. She really didn¡¯t want that happening to Anda.


    Before his injury, Anda had seemed to be stable and emotionally normal to her, though she knew she wasn¡¯t the best judge of such things, so it was mostly a question of what he had done to himself since.


    She didn¡¯t have high hopes for that, as his judgment and self control were significantly impaired, so her strategy was to place him in a coma for the first few days, and gradually wean him off of whatever internal chemicals he was stimulating while the Tao system made its first inroads. She hoped that the Tao system would be able to incorporate the existing bugs over time, rather than shutting them down all at once, but there were too many unknowns to be sure.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    She reached his room and contemplated the closed door in the near total darkness. It was about five in the morning, and she was still trying to decide whether she should wake Anda up and explain the situation to him, or simply sneak in and administer the treatment without his consent.


    What if he said no? His judgment was impaired, and she wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he might want her to do. On the other hand, she knew just how terrifying it would be for him to wake up to a new entity setting up shop in his brain.


    She had just decided to open the door without knocking and keep her options open when she heard Anda¡¯s voice coming from within.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry. I know I¡¯m not one hundred percent, but I can keep my mouth shut. Just let me get back on my feet and they won¡¯t be disappointed; there¡¯s some amazing shit coming down, I can promise you.¡±


    There was a long silence, and then a woman¡¯s voice replied. ¡°We¡¯re sorry Anda. We know how important you think this girl is, but you need to come with us. We know you can make it very difficult, so we can¡¯t promise you will avoid harm if you resist.¡±


    Anda¡¯s voice returned, angry now. ¡°You think the two of you pose a threat to me? I¡¯ve sacrificed as much as anyone could for this organization, and now I¡¯m repaid with threats? I¡¯m giving you the count of five to get the hell out of my face. One!¡±


    Lilijoy locked up. She was mentally prepared for an entirely different scenario, and the situation in Anda¡¯s room had too many factors she didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°Two!¡±


    ¡°Now Anda,¡± a male voice broke in, tone placating, ¡°please calm yourself. We¡¯ll leave you for a minute to think it through.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll wait in the hallway,¡± said the woman.


    ¡°Three! Fine, just expect to be waiting a long time.¡±


    Lilijoy unfroze and retreated around the corner, moving as softly as she could. She heard the door open and footsteps come into the hall, even as Anda yelled ¡°Four!¡±. The door slammed and there were a few seconds of silence, punctuated by Anda breaking something in his room. Then she heard a single metallic click.


    She risked looking around the corner and saw two figures, man and woman, as expected. The woman held something in her hand.


    Before Lilijoy could assess the situation further, the man turned the doorknob and the woman kicked open the door and threw the object within. Lilijoy caught a brief glimpse of Anda standing next to his cot with a surprised look on his face before the door rebounded and the man in the hallway pulled it shut, retaining his hold on the knob and bracing himself against any attempts by Anda to open it.


    There was no more time to think. If they wanted the door closed, Lilijoy was going to make sure it opened. She sprinted down the short hall and time seemed to slow.


    Where¡¯s my Flash when I need it? she thought.


    Her brain was primed to expect her body to move almost three times faster than it could on the Outside, so instead she felt as if she was running in slow motion. She saw the moment the woman registered her footfalls and began to turn while reaching inside the jacket she was wearing. Uncannily fast reflexes, but not fast enough to bring the weapon to bear on Lilijoy before she slid into the back of the man¡¯s knees. He began to fall back, still clinging to the door handle with both hands, as Lilijoy pivoted around him and stood, breaking his grip by slamming her head up underneath his forearms. The woman stepped around him as he fell and brought the weapon, a small gun, up to track Lilijoy¡¯s movement. Clearly, the woman could see well in the dark.


    Her thought had been to get the door open, but Lilijoy could tell that the woman¡¯s trigger finger was already tensing, so she kicked off the door and rolled under the shot, wishing she had somehow found the time to rank up her skin. The sounds echoing in the enclosed space were warped by Lilijoy¡¯s subjective perception, and she was glad for the practice Inside adapting her echolocation to high speeds.


    An odd crackling static filled her head for a moment. She put that from her mind as she came up against the woman¡¯s legs, blocking a knee to her face with crossed arms. She had enough time to track the man¡¯s movements as he smoothly executed a backward roll to recover from her initial attack, but not enough time to dodge the strike to the top of her head from the pistol gripped in the woman¡¯s hand.


    She took the hit as well as she could, but it still drove her to the ground and rattled her teeth. A wave of dizzy darkness passed through her, and too late she realized she had fallen on to the woman¡¯s moving foot, less of a blow than a force that propelled her small body across the hall. She had just enough time to register a loud pop from within Anda¡¯s room, followed by a hissing sound, before she flew directly into the waiting arms of the woman¡¯s partner. He caught her and wrapped her in his arms, crushing the breath out of her.


    Rosemallow would be ashamed of me, she thought, kicking at the man¡¯s torso with her heels to absolutely no effect.


    As she struggled, the odd static sound filled her head again, stronger than before, disrupting her ability to think for just a moment. It was definitely not a normal sound, and she hoped it wasn¡¯t some new problem within her system, as it seemed to originate internally. The woman turned to the door to hold it shut, but before she could, Anda pulled it open and kicked a hissing object into the hall.


    Guess it was a gas grenade, Lilijoy thought. His judgment may suck, but it looks like his reflexes are back.


    The crackling in Lilijoy¡¯s head was consistent now, and impacting all her senses. Her skin tingled and she tasted a crisp citrus flavor. She missed being able to call on Jiannu for advice, because her system was all kinds of wonky. A giggle escaped her mouth, and she realized that whatever gas was coming from the grenade was having an impact on her too. Was it causing the crackles?


    Normalize neurochemistry; remove foreign substances, she thought at her system, but save some for later, cause this stuff is kinda awesome.


    She let her body fall limp in the man¡¯s arms. She was tempted to message Marcus, but she was afraid that getting anyone else involved could spell disaster for the entire enclave. These people were no joke.


    The man continued to hold her tightly, while the woman kicked the grenade away down the hall. Without a glance back to where Anda stood in his partly open door, she approached Lilijoy.


    ¡°We are not enemies,¡± she said. ¡°Not to you, and certainly not to Anda.¡± There was another burst of static, and Lilijoy began to wonder if these people were somehow related to her system¡¯s odd behavior. ¡°We understand that you were defending your friend from what you perceived as hostile actions on our part.¡±


    ¡°Throwing a grenade into my room is pretty damn hostile,¡± noted Anda.


    ¡°It was our best option,¡± the man said. ¡°You would have received no injury.¡±


    Lilijoy decided there was no point to pretending she was unconscious, since obviously no one was buying it.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she squeezed out. Who are they? she messaged Anda.


    ¡°Our individual identities are not important,¡± said the woman. ¡°We are a force for stability and justice in the world.¡±


    Anda rolled his eyes. ¡°No one is going to take you seriously when you talk like that. Can you please put her down now?¡± From the Hand. They¡¯re here for me, not you. Run when they put you down, he replied to her message.


    ¡°Yes, we will release her. Please allow us to explain,¡± the man said.


    He released his crushing hold from Lilijoy and lowered her to the ground. She stumbled to the far side of the hall, catching her breath.


    Go, Anda messaged.


    Not yet. I have to give you something.


    The woman turned and addressed Lilijoy. She noticed that the man kept his attention on Anda.


    ¡°Anda is a senior member of our organization. He is aware of operational plans, facilities, and personnel within his sector. We have reason to believe he is internally compromised, and have come to bring him in for evaluation and treatment.¡±


    Lilijoy listened to the woman, but she was more interested in the messages from her system.


    <hr>


    Decoherence resonance field detected.


    Quantum network communications field interference resolved.


    Create symbolic sensory analogue? Yes No


    <hr>


    Yes


    <hr>


    Default sensory adaptation enabled.


    Alternative modes available.


    <hr>


    A sparkling pink glow surrounding and connecting the man and woman emerged in Lilijoy¡¯s vision. I guess my default settings are set to ¡®girly¡¯, she thought. The glow ebbed and flowed, pulsed and fluctuated with no particular pattern.


    Now the man spoke. ¡°We are seeking to balance operational discretion with individual freedoms. Our evaluation is that Anda...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m standing right here,¡± Anda interjected.


    ¡°...that Anda has lost sufficient executive function due to traumatic injury to his frontal cerebrum to render him incapable of necessary discretion, and is incapable of rational consent.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a small pang of guilt. And agreement. After all, she hadn¡¯t been able to decide whether to offer Anda a choice about her treatment. But she had the solution to all of this, if only they would give her the time.


    Anda, she messaged. I can help you. My system has developed a cure. Trust me?


    I guess it¡¯s you or them, he replied


    ¡°I understand.¡± Lilijoy said aloud. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I attacked you guys.¡±


    The man stared at her, while the woman kept her eyes on Anda.


    ¡°Can I talk to Anda privately?¡±


    The man looked faintly surprised. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been exchanging messages during our conversation?¡±


    Time to play the kid card.


    Lilijoy sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± she said, allowing her voice to quiver. ¡°Anda is my only friend in the world. I just need to talk to him and say goodbye without a bunch of strangers watching.¡± She watched for any reaction, but the man remained impassive. ¡°We¡¯ll just go in the room, so it¡¯s not like we can go anywhere. And if we were going to call for help, we could have done that long ago.¡±


    The woman spoke. ¡°You are reputed to possess a previously unknown legacy system. You have been pursued by several clans. Anda has protected you using resources and intelligence from our organization. We respect your autonomy. You may accompany us if you desire.¡±


    That¡¯s what they want! Anda messaged. They¡¯re manipulating you.


    Would that be so bad? she replied.


    Yes! Probably? Look, they have good intentions, but that doesn¡¯t mean you won¡¯t be collateral damage. I don¡¯t want you to risk it. Stay with Marcus and the others.


    But¡­, she began


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Anda. ¡°Let¡¯s go. But she¡¯s staying.¡±


    ...the cure for you. I have to give it to you.


    How long will it take?


    To transfer it to you? Ideally, hours. Days.


    Minimum?


    Minutes. Seconds. It can be as little as a tenth of a gram. But with so little, it will take days or weeks to work, and things might get pretty crazy for you if I¡¯m not around to help.


    Get it ready. Skin contact?


    She walked over to Anda and jumped into his arms. She pressed her cheek against his.


    This could get a little awkward. We¡¯ll need a minute or so.


    I¡¯ll live.

 Book 2: Ch. 18: Missed Connections

    Where the hell was Lily?


    The encounter with Raven had been frustrating enough, but now her roommate had decided to vanish, just when Magpie had a good lead. Thanks to Raven, she thought bitterly.


    The man was an ass. Her trainer, known as Buzzard in the flock, had been putting her in one awkward social situation after another for the past day. First it was finding out who some random boy liked. Then it was finding out who the object of his affections liked, and so forth, until she had established the topology of attraction for an entire chain of people. That had taken her hours of running around, ¡®randomly¡¯ bumping into people between classes and pretending to know them, or pretending that she knew a friend of theirs, or creating situations where they would introduce themselves. It was horrible and it was exhausting, but it was her assigned mission, so she was able to fortify herself against her insecurities and put herself into a detached mindset that allowed for her to use her understanding of social mechanics.


    It was all Raven¡¯s fault. He had said he would talk to her trainer about social engineering, and sure enough he had. She felt like a matchmaker slash social butterfly in training, her cheeks hurt from smiling, and she wanted to kill someone. Raven would be a nice start. Followed closely by Lily. If she would just log in, or return from wherever she was hiding, Magpie could escape this fake social hell and get back to what she wanted to be doing; learning magic.


    You know what, she decided, screw this. Time to get my feet wet. She didn¡¯t smile at her internal pun. There had been enough of that today. It was time for a water magic class, and it just so happened she was only one hall down from the class location shown on her map. Guess my feet had already decided.


    The atmosphere of the class was very different from her air magic experience. For starters, the classroom was dim and lit by dozens of faint blue green dots scattered randomly over the walls and ceilings. Rather than chairs and tables, the floor was divided into pools of varying sizes, lit internally by more of the photoluminescent dots. Wavy bands of light and shadow flowed gently over the walls, reflections and projections from the gently rippling water of the pools. The air was cool and humid, filled with the sound of dripping. It was obviously intended to be a relaxing environment, but Magpie¡¯s memory of her dive into the cold, dark waters of the chasm pond caused her to shiver and wish for real light.


    I bet the instructor¡¯s a fish or something.


    There were a handful of students present, some lounging in the pools, others sitting quietly on the floor. The hushed and reverent atmosphere seemed to discourage the usual pre-class chit-chat.


    She found a relatively dry patch against a wall and settled in, waiting for the class to start. It was also the last class period of the day, so perhaps everyone¡¯s silence was due to fatigue as much as anything. It also explained why there were so few students in the room.


    As it turned out, she was the last to arrive, and it was only a minute before the instructor showed himself, emerging from a large central pool in a stack of slow, sinuous coils.


    ¡°Greetingssss, sssstudentsssss,¡± he hissed. ¡°I am Professssor Ssssssissssssitusssss. Ssssso pleassssed to sssssee sssssuch sssstudiousss sssscholarsss.¡±


    To Magpie¡¯s surprise, several students burst into laughter. This was explained by the professor''s next statement.


    ¡°But seriously,¡± he continued in a raspy voice. ¡°It¡¯s nice to start a new term. I see several new faces in here, so let me clarify. My name is actually Sisitus, and my people, the Naga, do love our sibilant sounds. I¡¯ll try to restrain myself for the most part.¡±


    The next few minutes were occupied by introductions all around. When Magpie had her turn, Sisitus turned to the class.


    ¡°When we¡¯re finished with introductions, I¡¯d like to start class with Magpie, if she would be so kind. She discovered a rare, primal source in her Trial, in the dark chasm that some of you are familiar with.¡±


    ¡°Runk!¡± called out a student excitedly.


    ¡°Yes, I believe that¡¯s the one. For those fortunate enough to reach the bottom and return, which is few enough, the source obtained therein varies, though it is always exceptional.¡± He looked at Magpie and a membrane slid sideways across one eye.


    ¡°A little bird told me Magpie received a water breathing spell closely related to the Water Breathing ability possessed by my people and several other aquatic species. I look forward to learning more.¡±


    After that, the introductions passed quickly, and Magpie found herself the center of attention. She told them the story of her brush with the jelly skeletons, and then explained her Water Aspect Fused Breath spell and her current ranks in its components as best she could.


    ¡°Squirxical, I believe they are called,¡± Sisitus explained about the mysterious underwater beings. ¡°Not incredibly dangerous, but very persistent when they find something they want to keep. I¡¯m more interested in how they reacted to the source in its gem form. I would hazard a guess that you were fusing them with the surrounding water without meaning to. Given that their flesh is mostly liquid already, it must have caused them to dissolve entirely.¡±


    ¡°Professor Prerry said that Fused was a dangerous class.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, Opela was exactly correct about that. It¡¯s more of an Earth class than anything, but exceedingly rare even there. We will need to go very slow in your development of any new spells using it. Your current spell is completely safe, of course, as long as you don¡¯t run out of mana while you¡¯re using it.¡±


    ¡°How long would that be?¡±


    ¡°Interesting question. Most easily solved through experimentation, but the theory behind your spell¡¯s mana use is important to discuss.¡± He reared up, his human torso reaching the ceiling. ¡°Would anyone care to speculate?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s at two, two, two, four in her ranks for the spell, so base cost is thirty-two.¡± called someone from one of the pools.


    ¡°It¡¯s a timed utility spell, am I correct esteemed professor?¡± asked a scaled being that had introduced itself as Jilkiss O... something. She was so burned out from her day of socializing she didn¡¯t have the capacity to remember any more names.


    ¡°That would be my initial classification, Jilkiss. Utility for its function, but also because it is not entirely clear what improving the rank of the spell will do. Timed, because of Magpie¡¯s experience, though it may well turn out to be stable at higher ranks. Oh, and Lala, don¡¯t forget that the source level is initiate, so the mana usage will be half of the base, or sixteen.¡±


    Lala, the voice from the pool evidently, muttered something indistinct in reply.


    Sisitus turned back to Magpie, his coils flowing to bring his human torso to her level. ¡°Did you follow any of that?¡± She wobbled her head somewhere between a nod and a shake. ¡°Well, I will summarize. A timed utility spell typically applies a useful effect with a cost of mana applied continuously during the casting duration. For example, if I cast Create Water, it uses an amount of mana proportional to how much water I create.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He summoned a globe of water into his hand, which promptly ran down his arm and onto the floor. ¡°But if I cast Summon Fountain¡­¡± Water appeared over his hand again, but this time it fell in a continuous trickle, a steady stream that fell through the air, splattered onto the floor, and ran into one of the pools. ¡°¡­I need to maintain a stream of mana that matches the volume of water as it is created. Both are water utility spells, the second one is timed. A spell is considered to be stable if it lasts without ongoing cost until the will of the caster is concluded or broken.¡±


    Magpie watched as he demonstrated, marveling at how naturally his human part flowed out of the serpent tail. Thin strands of iridescent scales continued up his muscular torso, all the way to his face where they swirled around his bright green eyes, almost like glasses. Even though he had no hair, and his pupils were vertical slits, she couldn¡¯t stop looking at him, and she felt a warm, floating feeling rising up through her body.


    He turned away from her and the feeling stopped. ¡°Any questions at this point? No? Alright then, if you have an ongoing project, attend to that while I make the rounds, otherwise, meditate or pass the time quietly.¡± He turned back to Magpie, and the feeling returned, stronger than before. She had never imagined a snake man would be so, well, cute. She leaned toward him as he said something to her, something she couldn¡¯t really focus on. His mouth was moving, but the words were floating away before her ears could catch them. Then he was reaching toward her face, his hand caressing her cheek and¡­


    He pushed her eyes away from him. ¡°Whoa there,¡± he said softly. ¡°Be careful. It happens sometimes that young humans fall under my kind¡¯s sway. It¡¯s nothing we do on purpose, just a natural ability that attracts those with the right traits. ¡°


    Right traits for what? she wondered.


    ¡°Wait there for just a moment. I have something that will help.¡± He turned away and plunged into the pool, his coils gracefully circling behind him.


    ¡°Oooh, hot for teacher!¡± called a boy¡¯s voice from across the room. Magpie didn¡¯t look up to see who it was; she kept her eyes down, face burning with mortification.


    ¡°Like I didn¡¯t see you staring for the first few classes?¡± called a girl.


    ¡°Yeah, but I didn¡¯t get caught!¡± the boy replied.


    This was beyond embarrassing for Magpie. She was supposed to be a cold creature of the night. A predator, a manipulator. She vowed that she was going to look straight at the Naga when he returned and¡­


    Oh, there he is, she noticed, her thoughts melting into a warm puddle. And he¡¯s brought me a present! She felt so special as he placed the necklace over her head, broad links of interlocking silver serpents. At least until it settled completely onto her neck. Then she felt mortified again.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she said, eyes still averted. This was worse than dealing with Raven.


    ¡°You are not the first,¡± he replied. ¡°Far from it, though it is uncommonly strong in your case. When you are stronger, and much older, seek out my kind beyond the Garden. Until then, I would suggest wearing this necklace at all times, but especially in class.¡±


    He reared up, ¡°I trust everyone is using their time well?¡±


    There was a certain edge to his voice, and the room became utterly silent as everyone pretended to be fully involved in their studies.


    ***


    After her awkward goodbye with Anda, Lilijoy returned to her room to think. And she had a lot to think about. Her battle with the two Renaissance operatives had driven home to her just how much she had to learn. Even with surprise on her side, they had handled her with ease. Her ability to think at a greatly accelerated rate hadn¡¯t helped her nearly as much as she had expected, mostly because no amount of thinking could overcome ignorance.


    It had helped her observe her opponents thoroughly though, and as she replayed the fight in her mind she realized that everything after the first moment of her attack had been utterly controlled by the two. It was not just bad luck that she had been stunned, then kicked across the room into the waiting arms of the man.


    She suspected it had something to do with the odd quantum field surrounding and connecting them. She wasn¡¯t sure to what extent, but they operated in almost perfect synchrony during the fight, and after. She had never seen them exchange a glance; one or the other always had eyes on her and Anda, and when they switched who was watching who, it was simultaneous and instant.


    Anda, she messaged, did you notice anything weird about the two agents?


    You mean the nice people currently escorting me to the stealth floater that the Renaissance totally doesn¡¯t have? Or the fact that an ostensibly peaceful organization that I am theoretically a high-ranking member of, seems to have access to extremely high ranked combat operatives that I don¡¯t know anything about? Other than that, no. Nothing out of the ordinary.


    Ha ha. No, I mean that they acted like they could read each other¡¯s minds.


    Like we¡¯re doing now.


    No. Faster. Like they could see what the other was seeing.


    Oh. Well, remember when you sent me your visual stream in our fight with Sinaloa? It could be something like that. A little crazy to for both to do it at the same time, but with the right system, I guess anything is possible. Speaking of crazy systems, any hints as to what I should expect, now that I¡¯ve been inoculated with your bugs?


    Well, it was prepped with your immune signature, so hopefully no seizures.


    Great.


    If you¡¯ve been boosting endorphins or dopamine or anything else, things might be bad.


    Also great. I¡¯ve really tried, but I did have to mess with my reward system so I didn¡¯t do really stupid things. Marcus helped with that. So you¡¯re saying all that may go away before anything improves.


    Maybe? I was unconscious for Stage Two initialization, and I didn¡¯t have another system. If you were here, I would have tried to knock you out for a day or two.


    Nice.


    Anyway, you¡¯ll need to learn a cultivation technique. Hopefully, your system will come with a guide, cause I¡¯m guessing that anything I say will just confuse you.


    Wait. Did I just fall into a wuxia?


    I didn¡¯t know what that was until you said it. But yes, there seem to be some deliberate elements of that in the Tao system. The developer seemed to like a side of Taoist mysticism with his nanotechnology.


    Okay. That¡¯s pretty cool, actually. It¡¯s right there in the name, I guess. Got to go, people talking at me.


    Okay. Be safe.


    Yeah right.


    She felt a little better about things after talking to Anda. Even though he didn¡¯t really confirm her theory about the operatives, just the notion that it was a possibility made her feel better about being handled so easily. And the fact that Anda thought they were high ranked made her feel better too.


    She had toppled the man using techniques Rosemallow had taught her, which mostly circumvented the raw strength of an opponent, but the way the woman shoved her into the air with one foot, and the iron grip of the man did seem to point to augmented strength. That would put them at least around Rank Eight, way out of her league.


    Feeling a little better about the fight¡¯s outcome, and a little worse about her preparation, Lilijoy mulled her options. Her goal was to rescue Attaboy from Sinaloa clan, so the first problem was that she didn¡¯t know where they were keeping him. It didn¡¯t matter how strong she was if she didn¡¯t know where to go.


    She fell back onto her cot, rubbed her eyes, and came to a decision. Looking for help from the Inside was taking too long. Rosemallow¡¯s connections were nowhere to be found, and who knew if they could help even if they did make contact. Meanwhile, the two most impressive operatives she had ever come across were still only minutes away. She had something they wanted, so maybe they could help her in return. And she would be able to go with Anda to help him through the transition. Perfect.


    She messaged Anda.


    Anda, I know you won¡¯t like this, but I want you to ask them to turn around and come back for me.


    There was no reply, which didn¡¯t alarm her. Anda had a lot going on. Still, every second they were getting farther away, so she bumped it up a notch.


    URGENT: Anda, ask them to come back.


    Still no reply. Lilijoy knew that the ¡®URGENT¡¯ tag from her would cause Anda¡¯s system to interrupt anything he was doing, or wake him up if necessary. But if he didn¡¯t agree with her request, he could just refuse to answer, so she tried again, using the one tactic she thought might work.


    Anda, I need their help to rescue Attaboy. Please, please do what I¡¯m asking... I¡¯m calling in your debt to me. I¡¯ve saved your life at least twice. I know this will work. Trust me.


    No reply. She waited for another minute, and then screamed in frustration as she kicked her legs on her cot. ¡°God damn it, Anda!¡± She was furious. After all she had done for him, the least he could do was reply. She had even given him¡­


    Oh.


    I bet his system just shut down.


    Crap.

 Book 2: Ch. 19: Points

    Interlude: Attaboy


    ¡°Someone has entered your room. Now would be a good time to return to your outer self,¡± said Dijian.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± replied Attaboy. He was a bit frustrated and ready to quit for the moment anyway. He had spent a subjective eternity staring at the strange creatures that were apparently living inside his head, trying to get them to respond to his will. Dijian, the voice in his head, had tried to be helpful but his way of talking confused Attaboy terribly, with too many big words and instructions that made no sense. How was he supposed to imagine what having a sixth finger felt like?


    So it was with some relief that Attaboy left the strange glowing mass that Dijian said was his brain and returned to his incredibly boring, comfortably tangible, cell. He expected he would see the old woman delivering his food, but to his surprise, someone new had come into his room.


    ¡°Hello,¡± said the hairless man in the white coat. ¡°It¡¯s time we had a talk.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 19: Points


    When Lilijoy logged back into the Inside, she found herself in the Head of School¡¯s grove. The first light of dawn was filtering through the canopy, and as she gazed around at the damp acorn-covered ground, she had the strange feeling that it had been years since her visit with the strange face in the water. I guess it¡¯s only been about fourteen hours though.


    A sweet-voiced thrush called from the branches above and peaceful belonging swept over her, rather than the fearful anxiety she had expected. The site of her mind¡¯s trauma carried no negative emotions.


    There was also no sign of the Head of School. Lilijoy¡¯s emotions were a bit more mixed on that count. She felt almost embarrassed to be so¡­ small. Her physical stature had never really bothered her, but the feeling of her mental insignificance compared to the vast being she had encountered through the trees was humbling. She wondered what her, or its, story was.


    ¡°Hey Three Bites, aren¡¯t you supposed to be meeting me at the pond right now?¡±


    Rosemallow¡¯s voice caused her to start. How could someone so large approach her without being noticed?


    ¡°Not that I mind meeting you here. Eskallia and I go way back to when she was just Eskallia Everbough, before all the tree stuff.¡± She considered her words. ¡°Or at least the extra tree stuff. She was an elf after all.¡±


    ¡°How did you know I was here? And are you talking about Head Treetouched?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°We trainers have our ways. And yes, the esteemed Head of School wasn¡¯t always a bunch of trees. She was a powerful water mage and one of my good friends.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s so¡­ huge.¡± Lilijoy winced. ¡°I mean, her mind is a thousand times bigger than mine. Is that what all the subsets are like, beneath what the Outsiders see? Are we that tiny compared to what is really going on here?¡±


    She almost wondered if the Outsiders were something like toys to the subsets, but didn¡¯t really want to hear the answer to that.


    ¡°Some are, some aren¡¯t. Our minds can grow, ebb and flow. Our boundaries are¡­ looser than yours. If we want them to be. It¡¯s part of each person¡¯s path, to decide how our experiences shape us. Eskallia¡¯s path turned to growth, for reasons that aren¡¯t mine to tell.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Three Bites, that¡¯s getting a little personal. I like the struggle, just leave it at that.¡± She clapped her hands together. ¡°Enough talk. We¡¯re going off the grounds to get you some real combat experience today.¡±


    With that, she picked Lilijoy up, took two running steps and jumped. Lilijoy¡¯s stomach lurched, and then dropped. The first leap took them to the edge of the rooftop, a low wall. Rosemallow planted both feet as they landed, and Lilijoy could feel the power of her trainer''s muscles contracting and then exploding upward into the sky, hundreds of feet up and out from the top of the towering structure. Then the wind began to rush past her ears as they fell, down and down, gathering speed as the green fields far below rushed up at them. Her insides floated up to her throat, and then slammed back down as Rosemallow¡¯s powerful landing crushed the earth. Instantly, they were in a cloud of swirling dirt and dust formed by the impact.


    ¡°Time to run. Keep up if you can!¡± Rosemallow yelled, tossing Lilijoy to the side.


    They ran for miles, across fields and down forest paths. Along the way, Lilijoy learned about balancing her Flash use with Mana Gathering, and a bit more about Endurance and Vitality. The first time she ran out of Mana, Rosemallow had circled back to where Lilijoy was running at a greatly reduced speed and jogged beside her.


    ¡°Out of Flash already? Remember that all the magical traits use Mana to some extent. You¡¯ve got to keep an eye on the blue. If that bar is shrinking, it means you¡¯ve exceeded your gathering abilities. Since your gathering will go down when you¡¯re distracted, like when you are exerting yourself or fighting, you can¡¯t count on being at your full potential. Watch that mana bar, and adjust until it¡¯s steady. Same goes for Vitality. It will help your endurance, but it uses Mana.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t there be a stamina bar or something?¡± Lilijoy had done some research on the origins of the Inside and its progenitor, DayNight Universe.


    ¡°What, you can¡¯t tell when you¡¯re tired? You need a bar to tell you that?¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t have a response for that. She jogged along until her Mana was full again, and then gradually increased her Flash use until Mana began to dip. As long as she kept some focus to gather mana from the environment around her, she could use more than half her potential speed, which was still pretty good.


    After an hour or so, the path they were following emerged from a brush forest into an overgrown field. In the distance, Lilijoy could see a small hamlet of ten or fifteen thatched buildings.


    ¡°Welcome to the Corrupted Village of Mittleburg,¡± said Rosemallow. ¡°Before the fun begins, we need to do some housekeeping for your character sheet that I¡¯ve been putting off. As you¡¯ve probably realized, levels don¡¯t necessarily mean all that much. They¡¯re a measure of your advancement, rather than the advancement itself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve wondered about that,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Why bother having levels when it¡¯s really all about the points? Is it just so everyone can compare?¡±


    Even that didn¡¯t seem right. One person could put all their points into crafting skills, like Mr. Sennit, while another at the same level could have put all their points into Power. There was really no comparison.


    ¡°So, the thing is,¡± said Rosemallow, ¡°you can only raise stats and skills a certain amount every level. Or rather, you can raise them as much as you want, but it will cost you dearly.¡±


    Lilijoy must have had a blank expression on her face, because she continued. ¡°For example, you have ninety normal free points at the moment, leaving aside the twenty bonus points you got from Reality Bender. Lets say that you only wanted to raise your Power stat. Power¡¯s raising cost starts at two free points per stat point. So you might be thinking you could raise it by forty-five points so you could kick your old trainer around the block a time or two.¡± She grinned down at Lilijoy.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow I...¡±


    ¡°Shut it, kid. As I was saying, it would seem that way. But the two per one is just the starting cost. The first point of Power costs two, then the next costs three, then five, and so forth. Here...¡± She handed Lilijoy another one of the magic pieces of parchment she seemed to be able to create on demand. It simply read...


    <hr>


    1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34


    <hr>


    ¡°You recognize the pattern?¡± she asked.


    Even if she hadn¡¯t, Lilijoy¡¯s system was up to the task. ¡°It¡¯s called the Fibonacci sequence. Each number is the sum of the previous two.¡±


    ¡°You Outsiders sure like to name things after yourselves. We call it the Golden sequence. It¡¯s at the core of most everything Inside, so expect to see it everywhere now that you know to look. The point is, you could use eighty-six free points and only raise your Power by seven points. Which would be really stupid. Or you could raise it once every level for seven levels and only spend fourteen free points.¡±


    ¡°So, it resets every level.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. And that¡¯s why levels matter. Every time you level up, you can spend your points again at the starting value. Some stats have a starting point at two, some at one, some at three or even five.¡±


    ¡°What about skills?¡±


    ¡°A little different, but same idea. Each level of skill cost is derived from the Golden sequence. Unlike traits, you can only raise the Magi portion of the skill by one tier each time you level up, no matter how many points you have. Which is just as well. Magi skills are just that, skills. Even if you have raised the Magi portion up to the sixth tier, Illuminated, it doesn¡¯t mean you will be able to make use of it or integrate it to the natural skill. That takes training and practice.¡±


    Lilijoy thought of Mr. Sennit. This explained why he was quite limited in the magic he could apply to his craft, despite his lofty rating. She resolved to go help him the next chance she had.


    ¡°So now what? Do I finally get to spend some free points?¡±


    ¡°Pull up your character sheet. Make sure to find the Free Points Spending version.¡±


    She did as her trainer asked.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 9


    Defender of the Young


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Free Points: 110* (90 + 20 Direct)


    Natural Traits


    STR: 22


    END: 58


    SPD: 57


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits (Starting Raise Cost)


    POW: 11 (2)


    INV: 34 (1)


    VIT: 13 (2)


    FLASH: 35 (2)


    MW: 94 (1 per 5)


    MG: 10%/100 Sec. (5)


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 33 (2)


    Earth: 58 (1)


    Water: 30 (2)


    Air: 28 (3)


    Charm


    Sentients: 29 (3)


    Plants: 66 (1)


    Animals: 62 (2)


    Abilities (Raise Cost)


    Scan II (3)


    Echolocation IV (8)


    Infrared Vision III (5)


    Low Light Vision II (3)


    Two Minds One Self (-)


    Skills (VP) *Raise Cost


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25) *8


    Nature: Plants: Augmented Journeyman (15) *5


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9) *5


    Climbing: Upgraded Apprentice (6) *3


    Deception: Upgraded Apprentice (6) *3


    Stealth: Upgraded Initiate (4) *3


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Upgraded Initiate (4) *3


    Meditation: Natural Journeyman (5) *2


    Unarmed Combat: Natural Apprentice (3) *2


    Acrobatics: Natural Apprentice (3) *2


    Medical/Healing: Natural Apprentice (3) *2


    Gliding/Flight: Natural Novice (1) *2


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Natural Novice (1) *2


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1) *2


    Dance: Natural Novice (1) *2


    Hand Weaving: Natural Novice (1) *2


    <hr>


    She noted that it conveniently showed the free points she would need to spend to raise each trait, skill and ability by one notch. The choices were overwhelming.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot, huh?¡± said her trainer. ¡°And you don¡¯t even have a source yet. Just wait until you have magic in the mix.¡±


    Lilijoy was still looking over the sheet. There were many skills she hadn¡¯t known about. And one of her stats had changed.


    ¡°Rosemallow, is it normal for stats to change without spending points, like, a lot?


    ¡°No. I mean, it¡¯s not unheard of, especially for someone fresh off the Trial like yourself.¡±


    She squinted her third eye, which was doing its glowing star pupil trick. ¡°Huh. Your Charm: Plants has gone up about twenty points. That¡¯s all kinds of wrong. Good, of course. If I didn¡¯t have your sheet locked down good and proper¡­¡±


    ¡°You have my sheet locked down? What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Did I say that?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Master Rosemallow.¡± Sometimes Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if her trainer¡¯s eccentricities were genuine or an act.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re going to nag me about it all day, I might as well tell you.¡±


    Lilijoy looked up at her blankly.


    ¡°Fine!¡± Rosemallow seemed to be having a conversation with a completely different Lilijoy in her head. ¡°Beyond my training methods, I have a few unique abilities over my student¡¯s character sheets. Only a few of my students even know about it, and I like to keep it that way. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°I can freeze your sheet, keep you from doing anything to it. You probably figured that out. Quite a few of my students do, usually when they disobey me and try to add points.¡± She looked at Lilijoy suspiciously. ¡°However, I can also lock experience down. I rarely need to, but sometimes a student comes along who¡¯s a veritable experience machine. Do you know why that is?¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t venture a guess.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you why. It¡¯s because you had none in the first place! I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a glitch or deliberate, but for a very small group of Outsiders, you come here and it¡¯s like you never did anything or had an original thought in your life. Do you remember what the key elements of earning Experience are?¡±


    ¡°Novelty, challenge, suffering, inspiration and discovery,¡± she replied by rote.


    ¡°Exactly. The whole system is designed to stimulate the collection of powerful emotional, intellectual and aesthetic experiences. It¡¯s not based on what you do. It¡¯s based on what you think, feel and perceive. If someone who has never seen a tree or a cow comes Inside and sees one, they receive experience. Not much, I¡¯m sure, but it all adds up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d never seen a real tree, or a cow, up close before I came in. Actually, I still haven¡¯t seen a cow in person. Unless Nandi counts somehow.¡±


    Rosemallow threw her hands in the air. ¡°There! That¡¯s just what I¡¯m talking about. You cheat!¡±


    ¡°Wait. What?¡± Lilijoy felt defensive. ¡°I don¡¯t cheat!¡± she exclaimed.


    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s not cheating on purpose. But it¡¯s broken, is what I¡¯m saying. Now, here¡¯s the thing. Usually, when someone comes in knowing absolutely nothing, you know what they do?¡±


    ¡°Get lots of experience?¡±


    ¡°No! They die. Over and over. Because they don¡¯t know anything.¡±


    ¡°But I thought dying didn¡¯t have any penalties in the Garden.¡±


    ¡°Ha! That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. It¡¯s a hidden penalty. Dying, outside of the Academy, wipes out a ton of recent experience without you ever knowing you had it. The reason no one catches on is because dying also gives you experience. It¡¯s the very definition of something that involves novelty, suffering and discovery. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if some Outies don¡¯t get most of their experience from it. Of course, they get less each time they die, but it still keeps them from being total zeros.¡±


    ¡°What about Insiders? They start out knowing nothing at all, so they must get tons of experience points growing up.¡±


    ¡°I can see why you¡¯d think that. But Insiders don¡¯t earn experience points before they are tempered. That¡¯s when the system starts treating them like a real person. All your Insider colleagues at the Academy are tempered. That¡¯s why they are there; they had some amazingly exciting, traumatic and heroic experience that pushed them over the edge, made them self aware. That¡¯s when they start earning points, not before.¡±


    ¡°So what did you do to my sheet?¡±


    ¡°Nothing permanent. I just kept you from leveling for a while. When I noticed you hit level nine just from observing Betty, I put the kibosh on it so that you wouldn¡¯t lose the leveling opportunities.¡±


    ¡°But couldn¡¯t you have just explained this to me then?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t push it, Three Bites. I have my reasons. You still have all the experience, it just can¡¯t get to you. I¡¯ll release it bit by bit, so we can level up right.¡± Her third eye whirled and a huge toothy grin filled her face. ¡°You see, I cheat too.¡±


    ***


    Someone was disturbing Magpie¡¯s sleep. Of course, this was nothing new. During her training, she was often awoken at any hour and made to perform some task or other; picking locks, tumbling routines, and so forth. It was all part of Uncle¡¯s regimen, and anything was fair game.


    The reason that notions of slow murder were filling her mind was that she had thought that, just once, she might actually get a full night¡¯s sleep without being disturbed, that she might, and she was familiar with the concept from reading books and watching shows, even sleep in.


    But it was not to be. A high-pitched voice was drilling through the door to her chamber. She was too bleary to register the content, just the grating sound that rose and fell without end. It was cheerful and excited, and she wanted to kill it. If she had a pillow, she would have tried wrapping it around her head and hoping the world would leave her alone just a little longer, but she had fallen asleep on her stone cot without any such amenities after dragging herself back to her room in the early hours of the morning with the express though that she would be safe from the usual routine on the Outside.


    She hauled herself up and ventured forth from the room, unsure exactly what she would do when she met the source of all the racket.


    ¡°Jess, It¡¯s just not fair. I¡¯m having such a great time, and my trainer, even if she is a little scary, is so awesome, and then I had my first flying class, and even though everyone else was Avian, I could almost keep up. And¡­¡± The girl broke off her rambling as Magpie emerged, but only for the briefest of moments.


    ¡°Oh! Hello, you must be Magpie. I¡¯ve heard so much about you, but not really, just what Lily knows, which isn¡¯t much. Oh!¡± She pulled herself up and spread out her arms. ¡°Greetings, I am Petauran Bentbough Panadan Skria the Fierce Sky Rider. Please call me Skria.¡±


    Magpie stared at her through crusty eyes. ¡°Magpie. Not Maggie.¡±


    Skria looked back for a moment, and then burst back into chatter. ¡°Jessila, she¡¯s like you!¡± She looked up at the large cowhide covered girl next to her. ¡°See! She doesn¡¯t like talking either.¡± Jessila shrugged, her blue eyes fixed on Magpie, almost challenging.


    ¡°What?¡± Magpie asked, a bit harsher than she intended. It was way too early for this crap. Jessila gestured to Magpie¡¯s hair and then her own tangled braids. It looked to Magpie that she had somehow piled about three normal persons'' hair on her head and then skewered it with as many dowels and bones as she could fit.


    ¡°She likes your hair,¡± said Skria. ¡°At least I think that¡¯s what she means.¡±


    Jessila made a vague grunting sound and turned away.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Skria continued. ¡°Would you like some fruit?¡±


    ***


    Magpie headed down the hall, on a mission. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure what it was though. Maybe it was to avoid her trainer at all cost. Maybe it was to find her inconveniently missing roommate. Or maybe it was to find something, anything, to get rid of the foul taste in her mouth from squirrel-girl¡¯s evil fruit.


    She knew she should have stayed in the room and buttered up Skria and Jessila, maybe used them as a way to find out things about Lily that she might be more willing to share with Insiders than a fellow Outsider. Her heart just wasn¡¯t in it though. After the fruit episode, she had hastily made an excuse and fled...no, left the room. Only after making sure that neither of them had seen Lily recently though. As she walked, she idly fingered her new necklace, thinking of going to Water Magic class early in the day.


    The previous day¡¯s class, after the embarrassing episode that earned her the necklace, had been just as good as the Air Magic class. Sisitus. No. Professor Sisitus had helped her with the Shaped class, and also taught her the Meditation Skill. She wasn¡¯t very good at it, as every time she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing some part of her itched, or she realized she was sitting funny. It was odd, because if she was on a job, she could hold herself completely still for hours, but somehow that mindset didn¡¯t work the same. Meditation was more about presence than absence, it seemed to her.


    The meditation had come about because of the visualization exercises for working on her Shaped class. In the Air class, Anselm had mentioned something about choosing a shape and envisioning its ¡®shapeness¡¯, which hadn¡¯t done much for her. Professor Sisitus instead had her visualizing all the round objects she could think of.


    ¡°No other shape makes any sense at the beginning.¡± he had said. ¡°Only a sphere looks the same from all angles. Much easier.¡±


    When it turned out that she was remarkably¡­ not good at visualizing, he started her on the visualization exercises that led to the meditation skill. He had also encouraged her to try to imagine holding a ball, which was much easier for some reason.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about abstract qualities. Just be as clear and concrete as you can manage. What does it weigh? How big is it, does it have a texture and so forth? That¡¯s all. Do this at least three times a day but stop as soon as you find your mind wandering, or you will be practicing a lack of focus. Since most of us already have the ¡®spacing out¡¯ skill well in hand, no need to integrate it into your magic work.¡±


    It was startling to Magpie just how much magic was about learning to use her imagination purposefully. She had somehow thought it would be a lot of memorizing incantations and movements, but it was much more internal. That was a challenge for her.


    Towards the end of the class, she had cast her Water Breathing spell several times and watched as her tiny blue bar rapidly shrank. That had been a rude awakening, both that her Mana Well was far below average, and her Gathering stat was also pretty low. She had avoided discussing it with the professor, afraid that it would come to the attention of the class.


    When she ran the numbers, she realized she wouldn¡¯t even be able to cast her Charge Bolt at full strength, because she simply didn¡¯t have the Mana. On top of that, it would take her a full three minutes to gather enough mana to cast it twice. Pathetic.


    Luckily, she had a simple fix for her problem. She hadn¡¯t spent any free points yet. Her trainer had told her not to make any changes for the first week, but Magpie was inclined to ignore her. After all, they were her points, not Buzzard¡¯s and not Uncle¡¯s either.


    She pulled up the appropriate sheet as she made her way down the hall.


    There it was. Mana Well at twenty-five, Gathering at five percent. It would be a long road and many points to catch up to anyone with remotely decent scores in those two traits. And those were points that could otherwise be spent in her areas of strength. Her skills alone would take two hundred points if she wanted the important ones at the Expert rank, never mind other Traits.


    At least my Flash is already high enough, she thought. Flash above twenty was considered mostly useless, as even augmented reflexes couldn¡¯t keep up with the greatly accelerated physical movements. It took years of training to make use of anything much higher than that. But she would need to raise her INV and VIT scores, and probably her People Charm, which wasn¡¯t cheap. Oh, and her abilities of course.


    Screw it.


    Before she could second-guess herself, she put a point into her Mana Well, raising it by five, and two points into Gathering, raising it to six percent. She took a deep breath, then confirmed her choices.


    Immediately a wave of anxiety spread over her. Her stomach tightened and her shoulders hunched. She had to repress the urge to look behind her for hidden observers. It¡¯s only three points, she reassured herself.


    After another moment, though, she began to feel something else, something new. She had done something for herself, and only for herself. It felt¡­ dangerous. Good. Alive.


    What if I always felt like this?

 Book 2: Ch. 20: Fuzzy

    Interlude: Attaboy


    ¡°My colleagues can be a little short-sighted at times,¡± the hairless man was explaining. ¡°I suppose you could say they were blinded by the excitement of discovery.¡±


    Attaboy could only nod. So far, much of what the man had said to him didn¡¯t make much sense. It almost seemed as if he was apologizing for something.


    ¡°I, on the other hand,¡± the man continued, ¡°like to take a longer perspective. To get things right, greed should be deferred. Wouldn¡¯t you agree, young man?¡±


    Attaboy figured he was the young man in question, so he nodded again.


    ¡°I can only assume you are very tired of staying in this cell. How would you like to take a little walk with me?¡± the man asked.


    Attaboy nodded enthusiastically.


    The mans face was calm, and his dark eyes rested on Attaboy¡¯s face. There were several seconds of silence and Attaboy began to feel uncomfortable.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, when the tension had become too much. ¡°Walk is good.¡±


    The mans continued to stare at him impassively before the corner of his mouth twitched. ¡°That¡¯s excellent. I¡¯m glad you feel that way. My name is Doctor Quimia.¡±


    ¡°Attaboy.¡±


    The man''s hairless brow furrowed momentarily. Then a brief flicker of comprehension crossed his face. ¡°Your name is Attaboy?¡±


    Attaboy nodded.


    ¡°I do wonder where you acquired such an interesting name. Can you tell me?¡±


    ¡°Tribe.¡±


    ¡°And what tribe would that be?¡±


    Attaboy stared blankly at Doctor Quimia, who stared back at him. After a few moments of thought, he attempted an answer.


    ¡°Tribe by the Piles. No other name.¡±


    It was not the first time someone had tried to find out where he was from. The family that had taken him in for a night had asked him many questions, for which he had few answers. He had a dim memory of angry men yelling questions at him and beating him on several occasions since he had been captured. Somewhere between the beatings and his mysterious illness his memory had become crumbly, like a mud pie dried in the sun, cracks and clods falling off unpredictably.


    Doctor Quimia took a deep breath and inspected the ceiling. Attaboy wondered if he was looking at the same stains and patterns he had spent so many idle hours turning into the faces and forms of his tribe. He wondered who Doctor Quimia would see.


    <hr>


    Chapter 20: Fuzzy


    The Corrupted Village of Mittleburg must have been charming at one point. A cobblestone path led to a small village square, surrounded by quaintly thatched homes. A fluttering banner strung between the houses flanking the path read ¡°Welcome to Mittleburg: Try Our Pie!¡± Several farm carts lined the edges of the square, which was decorated by sheaves of wheat and corn arrayed around the tall gnarled posts that marked the edges. Ropes with tiny colorful flags connected the posts overhead, flapping idyllically.


    Yes, Lilijoy thought, if it weren¡¯t for the thin layer of black slime that coated every surface, Mittleburg would be a wonderful place to sit on a hay bale and dig into a nice slice of their famous pie.


    Unfortunately, the slime stank of moldy death and was clearly eating everything it touched. The thatch on the homes dripped and bubbled. The cobblestones were slick and emitting a faint hissing noise. Drops of slime oozed off the fluttering banner and the little flags, plopping thickly onto the square. The ropes holding the flags were drooping and frayed, with long tendrils of slimy snot hanging down in parody of the formerly colorful flags.


    And then there were the rats. Corrupted Rats that was. At a glimpse they looked fuzzy, like soft puffballs as they scurried from place to place or climbed along the hanging ropes. Then Lilijoy had made the regrettable decision to look closer. The fuzz was mold, great swaths of white-gray mold emerging from every bit of their bodies.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to love this!¡± Rosemallow had said. ¡°It¡¯s a total classic, almost a nostalgia piece. Town¡¯s been around forever, always the same, at least it is once it resets. Before you go in, let¡¯s kick your Unarmed Combat up a notch. You¡¯re going to want to focus on kicking and hitting for this first bit. See what you can do with a little Magi skill power in the mix.¡±


    ¡°So I should raise it to Upgraded?¡± Lilijoy had never spent her points before and felt inexplicably nervous.


    ¡°You are a fast one, aren¡¯t you? Yes, of course that¡¯s what I¡¯m saying. Umm¡­ and let¡¯s raise that Vitality up a point too.¡±


    ¡°But didn¡¯t you say that was a junk stat?¡±


    ¡°I say a lot of things, kid. Just do it, and I¡¯ll explain later. Now, go have fun, and come back here when it gets freaky.¡±


    Lilijoy had spent her points, raising her Unarmed Combat to Upgraded Apprentice and adding the extra point of Vitality, raising it to fourteen. Her total health points, (Strength plus Endurance plus Vitality) now came out to ninety-four.


    She tried hard not to think about what ¡®freaky¡¯ might mean to Rosemallow.


    She had scouted the village carefully, though her stealthy approach was somewhat ruined by the occasional call from Rosemallow in the background.


    ¡°Enjoy the pie!¡± had been one of the more confusing of the shouted encouragements.


    Now she was sitting, watching six moldy rats the size of cinder-blocks crawling around haphazardly. She could see why her trainer had suggested kicking and hitting. Not only would grappling with rats be weird, it would also be a dirty business. Not that she was bothered by a little mold. It had been a constant presence throughout her childhood, especially during the rainy season, when Night¡¯s Safety would sprout with mold and fungi.


    She used her Scan II ability on the closest one.


    <hr>


    Corrupted Rat: Level 2


    HP: 20


    <hr>


    Not bad at all. She could do six points of damage with an average strike, maybe more if she got lucky. More importantly, she doubted the rats could do enough damage to get through her Invulnerability trait. It would be a great opportunity for her to train against multiple opponents without much worry of being seriously wounded.


    She felt bad that she was about to fight, kill really, her original favorite animal. On the other hand, these rats looked like they were on the way out anyway. Poor rats.


    She planned out a quick strategy, and then moved into Flash. Sprinting for the square, she leapt into the air and came down with both feet on a rat that had paused in its movements around the little market square. She winced at the crunching crackle of tiny bones fragmenting underneath her weight as her knees bent to prepare another leap.


    Instantly a cloud of caustic spores enveloped her and her eyes and nose burned. She was already on the way to her next target, a rat moving along the ropes about four feet overhead. She hit it with her palm, knocking it off its perch and into one of the carts, where it exploded into another billow of spores. Catching the rope with her other hand, she pulled it down with her and it snapped, destroying part of the threat from above. The last thing she needed during the fight to come was moldy rat bombs falling on her.


    She fell to the ground, trailing the smaller cloud of spores caused by her palm strike, and crouched, assessing the reaction of the remaining rats. Her skin burned and tingled everywhere it was exposed to the mold spores, and her eyes were watering and blurry. Fortunately, she had managed to avoid breathing too many of them, but she felt the same sensation in her nose and the back of her throat, along with a powerful urge to sneeze and cough. Echolocation showed the rats as fuzzy blobs slowly turning in her direction.


    She had assumed that their attack would be rapid and decisive, but the rats moved lethargically. One of them hadn¡¯t even noticed her assault, and another wove its way toward her in a dizzy amble. The other two were coming for her more directly, but at a speed no faster than she could jog.


    A message crossed her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    You have suffered mild topical exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -5 VIT, -5 INV, HP now 89


    <hr>


    She felt a flash of irritation with her trainer for the lack of warning. Rosemallow seemed to feel that lessons learned the hard way were more memorable. In Lilijoy''s grumpier moments, she wondered if that implied it would be best not to have a teacher at all.


    Well, it¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t handle, she thought. Just need to keep out of the clouds. Now how am I supposed to do that without a weapon?If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The thought of retreating to find a nice long staff crossed her mind; even thrown stones would probably suffice against her addled opponents. She imagined that Rosemallow would be annoyed if she did though, so she flashed across to one of the less incapacitated foes and kicked at the knee-high rat as she ran by, keeping her exposed skin as far away as possible. It slid a few feet across the slimy cobbles, trailing spores. As she retreated, she congratulated herself for avoiding additional exposure, but cursed when her scan revealed she had only inflicted two points of damage. The rat was already on its feet and moving by the time she stopped herself on the far edge of the square.


    That¡¯s going to be a lot of kicking.


    With four, no, five rats remaining (the rat she had knocked off the ropes had dragged itself out of the farm cart), she had almost resigned herself to running back and forth across the square a hundred times, when a thought occurred to her. Shouldn¡¯t she have some new kind of magical power to go with her physical attack?


    After several more trips across the square, kicking rats and avoiding their spore clouds, as well as the lingering clouds from previous encounters, she knew for sure that she wasn¡¯t using any magical energy. How was she supposed to figure out a completely new combat technique while sprinting back and forth across a slippery surface and keeping track of five opponents?


    Even as she thought that, more rats arrived, issuing forth from between the cob walled buildings and emerging from the decaying straw thatch of their roofs. At least another dozen.


    Is this ¡®freaky¡¯ yet? she wondered. She decided it was more a pain in her ass than rising to the level of freaky. Rosemallow freaky, anyway. She ran down the street to create some space to think, leading a surreal parade of rambling moldy rats.


    While she jogged, she thought things through. When she used her Charm based skills, the magic component was mostly a matter of intent. Clearly, that wasn¡¯t enough with a martial skill, or it would have already happened. With Flash, she had initially needed to say the word ¡®Flash¡¯. Perhaps that was the key here? She led her parade of infected fuzzy critters around the village and back to the square. Perhaps due to to differing degrees of moldiness, they moved at different speeds and had become spread out, so she was able to experiment with the leaders for a few passes.


    ¡°Kick!¡± she yelled, kicking the fastest rat as she ran by. The attempt produced nothing more than another cloud of spores. Plus, she almost lost her footing and flipped onto her back. That would be disastrous, as the rats were not so slow that they wouldn''t be on her in a second or two were she to fall.


    She tried ¡®Strike¡¯, ¡®Mana kick¡¯, and in a fit of annoyance, ¡®Magical mana power attack death strike!¡¯. That last one took so long to say that she was only to the ¡®power¡¯ part when she actually reached the rat, and felt ridiculous as she finished. By this time, the bulk of the rats had caught up, so she took her followers on another jog around the village and wracked her brain for another idea.


    She remembered that when she had first learned her Meditation skill in Professor Anaskafius¡¯s office. She had imagined pulling Mana from her surroundings, a glowing vortex of light converging on her center. What if she could somehow reverse the process and send Mana out as part of an attack? She thought back to all the old videos she had watched during her unarmed combat training. Some of them talked about Chi, or Qi, as an energy field that permeated the body, which could be harnessed and directed for healing or attack depending on the will of the practitioner. After seeing several ridiculous videos where obviously complicit or self-deluded students hurled themselves away from their teacher to demonstrate his mighty Qi powers, she had filed it away with all the other nonsense she had discovered in her studies of twenty-first century knowledge and culture. It was a really big file.


    But now it occurred to her that Inside, Mana and Qi might be synonymous. Or at least similar. As she jogged along, she imagined her Mana as a ball of energy at her core and practiced pulling power from her core to her hands and feet. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was doing anything, but she thought she felt a warm sensation at her extremities. Ideally, she could project the energy outward from her attack, maybe even far enough to avoid the horrible spore cloud.


    She pulled her train back around to the station and ran past the lead rat, launching a kick as she tried to project her gathered energy. The effect was¡­ unimpressive. There was no magical force projected from her foot, no burst of energy, just another weak kick that pushed her opponent back a few feet and did minimal damage. Really, the creatures were so fragile, she could probably sneeze on them and have about the same results.


    A few more tries didn¡¯t improve things. Another failed idea. The thought of spending the next several hours kicking away at the corrupted rats filled her with frustration, and another thought occurred. Maybe she was trying to do too much, running in Flash and trying to use a new technique at the same time. She moved to the farthest side of the square and set her feet. It was time to stand her ground.


    This time, she didn¡¯t use Flash. Instead she sped her thoughts as she had on the Outside. Since her mind was the same Inside and Out, it only made sense that she could. Now she could feel clearly the extra bundle of Qi she was pulling from her core. She realized that Flash used Mana, Qi, whatever it was, distributing it to all the moving parts of her body, and the little amount she was trying to use for the strike had been sucked into that flow of energy instead of moving into her foot as she intended. The rat was approaching her in slow motion, tufts and tendrils of mold flowing gently around its opening jaws. She could see its hind legs gathering for a leap.


    Instead of kicking, she squatted, legs apart and pulled back her hands for a double palm strike. As she did, she brought every ounce of energy from her core she could muster and thrust it into her hands. She brought it forward directly into the rat¡¯s face just as it left the ground.


    She thought she saw a flash of yellow light, and watched as the rat¡¯s moldy snout compacted in waves, an inch before her hands reached it. More impressively, the spores blew off as if the rat had encountered a wind tunnel, forming a horizontal plume away from Lilijoy, into which the rat¡¯s body flew, spinning and twisting.


    <hr>


    Critical Hit!


    Qi Strike does 3x Damage (18 total)


    <hr>


    She would have fist pumped, but the next rat was already on her, and another two were behind that one. Only her accelerated thoughts allowed her to continue to funnel Qi into her strikes quickly enough. The first took a kick to the face, while the next two received palm strikes in quick succession. No more notifications were forthcoming, so she assumed she had done a normal amount of damage, apparently six points. More importantly, the spores continued to be blown away from her.


    Soon she had established a rhythm. Punch or kick a few rats, run to a new place before she was surrounded, or the spores reached her. The rats were vicious, but also feeble and predictable. Even though she only had one more critical hit, she was still dishing out damage at a good pace, and the wounded rats were slower too. She kept an eye on her blue mana bar, noting that each hit used about two points, so she was burning through her reserve faster than she replaced it, especially with her Gathering impeded by all the activity. Still, she thought she might be able to finish off the rats in another two or three minutes.


    That was when the door to the house across the square from her opened, and the moldy cats came out.


    ¡°Go get those nasty vermin, my sweets,¡± came a creaking, bubbling voice from behind the door. Six huge cats slunk out and tore into the remaining rats. Lilijoy froze, unsure where all this was going. Was she supposed to fight the cats now? Like the Rats, they were covered in thick puffy mold, though they moved much more quickly.


    She began to back away slowly. Even if she needed to fight the pitiful, frightening creatures, she wanted it to be on her terms. She could already tell that jogging around the village was not going to be a viable strategy. One of the cats, without a rat to occupy it, made a yowling gargle and approached her, its big yellow eyes peering out at her from behind bangs of mold. She thought it might have had black fur at some point.


    ¡°Good kitty?¡±


    The cat sat down and began to lick its¡­ mold. Spores rose up in puffs with each pass of its raspy discolored tongue. Lilijoy backed away some more, and the cat stood abruptly and walked up to her. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to kick it away; if it hadn¡¯t been for the horrifying context, she might have even thought it was being friendly.


    ¡°Grawrble,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t expect me to pet you,¡± said Lilijoy.


    The cat moved to rub against her legs, well waist really, and Lilijoy was forced to stumble back. She had no wish to be engulfed in another spore cloud, friendly intentions or not. The cat yowled again, and then another came over to investigate, a tabby pattern dimly visible underneath its gray and white coating. Soon Lilijoy was walking rapidly around the square, trying to avoid several overly friendly, horribly moldy felines. The cats were yowling pitifully, almost caterwauling, when another door opened.


    ¡°Go git em boys!¡±


    From the door burst the creatures of Lilijoy¡¯s deepest and most primordial nightmares. Predators. Dogs.


    And yes, they were moldy.


    ***


    I wonder if this counts as ¡®freaky¡¯, thought Lilijoy.


    The second the baying, slavering heaps of fibrous fungus formerly known as dogs charged into the square, the cats made themselves scarce, climbing the posts and bounding onto the rooftops. There they sat, looking down at the three dogs and hissing. Lilijoy had also decided that discretion was the better part of valor and leapt to the nearest cat-free roof. However, the mold had penetrated the thatched straw deeply, and she found herself in a light cloud of spores, which forced her to hold her breath.


    Thus her time out of reach of the corrupted canines was rapidly coming to an end. She scanned the largest.


    <hr>


    Corrupted Dog: Level 4


    40 HP


    <hr>


    While their health was only twice that of the rats, she had the feeling that the dog¡¯s defensive abilities were several notches better. If they had an Invulnerability stat, or the animal equivalent, she could find herself doing almost no damage again. Plus the dogs were big, relative to her anyway. She guessed they might weigh as much as fifty or sixty pounds, so they would be able to knock her down if she wasn¡¯t careful.


    After considering the situation, she decided it was time to return to her trainer. The buildings around the square were close enough for her to jump between the roofs. As she was preparing her first leap, another message appeared.


    <hr>


    You have ongoing mild topical exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -5 VIT (4), -5 INV (26), HP now 84


    <hr>


    I wonder what will happen when my Vitality hits zero? she thought.


    With no time to waste, she crouched and leapt to the next roof. She hit and scrambled for a hold on the slimy woven straw, still holding her breath against the latest cloud of spores that rose from her impact. Her fingers plunged through the sodden materials of the roof, and she was able to arrest her slide just before falling off the edge into the space between the homes.


    She pulled herself to all fours, beginning to feel dizzy from lack of oxygen, or possibly from her exposure to the toxic mold, and clambered over the peak. One more house, she thought, and then home free. Unless the dogs were faster than she expected.


    The far side of the roof was another challenge. Here the slime had eaten deeply into the straw, creating fuzzy slime filled pits and trenches over the entire surface. Her dizziness increased as the last of her air ran out, and she decided to go for it.


    She threw herself down the surface and planted both feet to launch herself onto the next house. Instead of pushing from a solid surface, her legs plunged through the straw. She could feel it scratching her calves, and then her thighs, and then the whole section gave way and she plunged down with moldy sodden straw falling all around. She hit the floor solidly and the shock of the landing made her gasp, inhaling a lungful of corruption as the thatching fell around and on top of her.


    <hr>


    You have severe internal exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -4 VIT (0), -16 END (39), -20 INV (6), HP now 61


    <hr>


    Her head spun and she was wracked by rib shattering coughs. Disoriented from the fall, she scrabbled at the dirt floor and pulled herself half up to a sitting position. She looked frantically around her, through the beams of light from the new hole in the roof that were filtering through swirling clouds of dust and spores. For just a second, she was struck by the surreal beauty. Then she saw the horrific being approaching her.


    It must have been human once. The head was topped by a swirl of gray hair that blended into the mold growing over the face and neck. It wore an apron with tiny blue flowers over a cotton dress and fuzzy slippers. Whether the slippers were originally fuzzy she didn¡¯t want to speculate. In its hands, it held a round dish topped by a crown of gray mold. The contents of the dish sloshed and bubbled, independent from the creature¡¯s lurching movements. It thrust it toward Lilijoy¡¯s face.


    ¡°Would you care for some pie, dearie?¡± It asked in a wet, creaking voice.

 Book 2: Ch. 21: Molded

    Interlude: Attaboy


    Attaboy¡¯s head was spinning, his senses overwhelmed. He had followed Doctor Quimea out of his little cell, down a long bare hallway lined with doors. Then up some dirty stone steps, past a room with several silent men who were looking at the floor. He saw a table with dishes stacked on it and a long gun. Then more halls and rooms. The sheer size of the building had been a bit overwhelming; many Night¡¯s Safeties could have fit within it.


    Still, that was nothing to what he saw when they finally emerged.


    First, the chill air and the sound of rushing water hit him, as his eyes adjusted to the light of the sun. Then he saw it, a structure so beyond his experience he could only stand in slack-jawed awe. It stood above a river canyon, the source of the rushing water, a stone building with a towering spire covered in more detail than his eyes could accept, its base descending to the canyon floor. He had to look away to recover his bearings.


    That was when he saw the people. More people than he had ever seen before, all arrayed on the wide platform that led across the canyon to the building. They were all moving together.


    ¡°Huh!¡±


    A grunt from a hundred voices sounded, echoing off the cliffs, as all of the people struck the air with their fists.


    ¡°Huh!¡±


    Now they struck the air with their other arm.


    Attaboy looked on in confusion as the figures below him continued to grunt and hit nothing.


    ¡°Welcome to our southern sanctuary, Attaboy,¡± said Dr. Quimea


    <hr>


    Chapter 21:


    ¡°Absolutely classic!¡± Rosemallow declared. ¡°Looks like you had a little too much fun for your own good, kid.¡±


    The last few minutes were a bit blurry for Lilijoy. She remembered scrambling away from the moldy pie-bearing granny and somehow crashing through the wooden shutters of the small window at the back of the cottage. Then seeing the messages


    <hr>


    You have ongoing severe topical exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -15 END (24), -6 INV (0), HP now 46


    You have ongoing severe internal exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -20 END (4), HP now 26


    <hr>


    She was barely able to stumble back toward the edge of the brush woods where Rosemallow waited, due to her severely depleted endurance and the constant coughing. When she finally collapsed at her trainer¡¯s feet, covered in slimy straw and mold and coughing up spores, Rosemallow had doused her in muddy water, which somehow removed the ongoing effects from the corruption, though it did nothing to restore her traits or health.


    Eyes watering from coughing, Lilijoy looked up at her trainer, who had a huge grin across her face. She had no energy to speak her mind, which was probably for the best.


    ¡°Pick up any new tricks?¡± Rosemallow asked. ¡°Just nod your head if you did.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. She mimed performing a Qi strike.


    ¡°Good. That subskill was the whole point of this little endeavor. It''s near impossible to get from training, but a ways back, I figured out it helps to have an opponent that you really don¡¯t want to touch.¡± She gestured toward Lilijoy. ¡°Now we need to get you to fixing yourself up a bit. Go ahead and raise your Healing skill up a level.¡±


    Lilijoy did so, while Rosemallow continued to explain.


    ¡°I bet you don¡¯t know this, but your Healing skill is one of your greatest assets. It makes you self-reliant, a whole package. Right now, it won¡¯t help you in combat, probably takes a minute or two to use if you can give it your whole attention. If you can get it leveled up enough, that should change. But for moments like these, where you have just barely escaped with your life, it¡¯s the difference between being up and about in half an hour, or spending a day or two laid up and vulnerable. Of course, if you ever get to the point where you can use it in combat, it¡¯s a game changer.¡±


    She looked down at Lilijoy. ¡°All set? Good. Now get healing!¡±


    Typical Rosemallow, Lilijoy thought. She wasn¡¯t worried about figuring this one out on her own though. Since she was now an Upgraded Apprentice in Healing, she should have about six points to work with, once she figured out the mechanism.


    Despite her pathetic physical state, her mana was in great shape. She cleared her mind and fell into a light trance, savoring the luxury of inner peace compared to the stress of mana use during combat. Though the constant coughing wasn¡¯t helping her focus any. She pulled some of the energy from her core, and imagined it turning a soothing green color, like the deep healing coolness of a mossy forest glen.


    She was briefly distracted by the realization that she should have brought some sap from her burnbalm plant. That would have been just the thing for her cracked and oozing skin. Well, it¡¯s not like I had a chance to go back to my room anyway, she consoled herself.


    Returning her attention inward, she imagined the green energy traveling to her lungs and cleaning out the remains of the fungus, draining the fluid from thousands of tiny wounds and soothing the irritation and inflammation of her airways. A minute passed and she felt the urge to cough diminish. A quick glance at her bars saw the red slowly rising and the blue slowly falling. It was a more continuous process than she had expected, and she could see no reason not to continue; it was like using the med bots, really, requiring a gentle supervision of the process more than perfect understanding. After her lungs felt normal she moved her attention to the skin of her hands and face. The entire process took only twelve minutes, and she was gratified to see the smallest hint of surprise on Rosemallow¡¯s face when she opened her eyes and announce that she had finished.


    ¡°Pretty fast, kid. I¡¯ve had some take a few hours just to figure out how to get their Prana moving.¡±


    ¡°Is that what it¡¯s called?¡±


    ¡°Yup. It¡¯s all the same stuff basically, but it¡¯s useful to have a few different labels for it. That will make even more sense when you start to try to do more than one thing at once. So, Mana for magic, Prana for health, Qi for combat. It all comes from the same Well though.¡±


    ¡°I noticed that the Qi doesn¡¯t use very much mana.¡±


    ¡°Good thing too. A lot of fighter types don''t have giant wells. Mana cost for Qi skills are usually just the Magi portion of the skill, unlike most crafting and spells.¡± She reached down and gave Lilijoy a hand up. ¡°Now, before I send you back in there to clear out the mess, let¡¯s raise a bunch more stats and skills.¡±


    Rosemallow had her raise her Power, Earth Affinity, Invulnerability, Mana Well, and Flash, all by one point. For skills, she raised her Nature: Plants, Climbing, Acrobatics and Deception. Then her third eye spun and Lilijoy received a level up notice along with the small chime.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1001 EXP Reached: Level 10 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    Before she could savor the moment, Rosemallow had her go back and add points everywhere she had already, including her Unarmed Combat and Healing skills.


    ¡°Oh, and throw some points into Scan, too,¡± said her trainer. ¡°The third tier is when that gets useful.¡±


    When it was all done, she pulled up her sheet.


    Name: Emily Level: 10


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Free Points: 71* (51 + 20 Direct)


    HP: 95


    Natural Traits


    STR: 22 (36 effective)


    END: 58


    SPD: 57 (162 effective)


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 13 (+65% STR)


    INV: 36


    VIT: 15


    FLASH: 37 (+185% SPD)


    MW: 104


    MG: 10%/100 Sec.


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 33


    Earth: 60


    Water: 30


    Air: 28


    Charm:


    People: 29


    Plants: 68


    Animals: 62


    Abilities


    Scan III


    Echolocation IV


    Infrared Vision III


    Low Light Vision II


    Two Minds One Self (-)


    Skills (VP)


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Nature: Plants: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Unarmed Combat: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Acrobatics: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Medical/Healing: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Deception: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Climbing: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Meditation: Natural Journeyman (5)


    Stealth: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Gliding/Flight: Natural Novice (1)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Natural Novice (1)


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1)


    Dance: Natural Novice (1)


    Hand Weaving: Natural Novice (1)


    <hr>


    She had many questions for her trainer, like why she didn¡¯t raise any abilities other than Scan, and why she raised her Plant Charm but not Animal Charm, but Rosemallow shut her down.


    ¡°Save it for the way back. Go kick moldy butt.¡±


    ¡°Do I really have to kill everything?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a scenario, kid. What you people used to call a ¡®dungeon¡¯. Everything in there is a tier seven subset, and not a particularly complex one either. They¡¯ll all pop back up tomorrow, same as always.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Feeling a little better about wiping out the animals, she approached the village from the side, moving as stealthily as she could. Peering between two houses, she saw a dog lying in the square, and used her newly upgraded Scan III on it.


    <hr>


    Corrupted Dog: Level 4


    40 HP


    Primary Attack: Bite (1-8)


    Damage Abatement: 2-8


    Disposition: Unfriendly


    <hr>


    That was a lot more information. With her newly raised Qi attack, she could deal nine points of damage if all went well, and possibly far more if she scored a hit in a vital area. She wondered if she could lure the dog away from the village and deal with it separately.


    She clapped her hands lightly and the dog swiveled its head where it lay to track the sound. I guess the mold hasn¡¯t gotten to its inner ear, she thought. Another clap, and the dog got to its feet and approached the alley. She was pretty sure that the dogs couldn¡¯t smell anything; she had turned off her own sense of smell long ago, as the overwhelming aroma of musty decay filled the area.


    She backed up a few feet and clapped again. The dog stuck its snout into the alley, but refused to come any closer. She was pretty sure it could see her, at least a little, but she couldn¡¯t coax it away from the square. Even moving back into the alley didn¡¯t tempt it forward. Instead it emitted a low gargling growl and stared at her with its milky, mold shaded eyes.


    Had she found a trick to this scenario? Maybe she could pummel the dog from the safety of the alley and it would not be able to attack in turn. Somehow she doubted that was the case, otherwise a typically armed party wouldn¡¯t have any trouble at all.


    Only one way to find out, she decided.


    She burst forward, pulling all her Qi energy into her hands and slamming them into the dog¡¯s muzzle. It didn¡¯t have time to dodge her attack, and the hit landed squarely, blasting the dog back into the square and flipping it onto its back.


    <hr>


    Critical Hit!


    Qi Strike does 3x Damage (24 total)


    <hr>


    Qi strikes were great when she had the time to set them up properly. The dog twitched several times, then slowly limped to its feet, just as the other two dogs came over to see what was going on. Soon, all three were staring down the alley at Lilijoy, growling and bodies quivering with aggression.


    ¡°I¡¯m not coming out there!¡± she called to them. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to come get me.¡±


    Her voice triggered the dogs into action and they leapt toward the alley, the largest uninjured one in the lead. She could almost see what was going to happen; the lead would jump for her throat (which was hardly a jump at all, really) and the second would come in low.


    Instead, she charged forward and jumped up at the last minute, clearing both dogs and coming down on the injured laggard with a Qi strike through both feet. The force knocked the dog into the ground, and she felt its rib cage crack. The same force that crushed the dog propelled her back into the air and she soared into the middle of the square, where she hit the ground in a forward roll and sprang into a run that took her to a space between houses on the other side. She turned to see the other dogs bowl over the injured one as they charged back toward her.


    As she watched them approach, she wondered if she shouldn¡¯t just stand her ground. After all, their bites couldn¡¯t get through her magic Invulnerability. She decided she could be a bit more aggressive, as long as she was careful not to get trapped in a spore cloud. She prepared another two-handed Qi strike as the leader charged toward her, and ducked under its jump at the last second, while bringing her hands up into its belly. Spores shot out in all directions as she landed another critical and sent the dog flipping over her head. She took a single step forward and met the next dog with her foot. She hadn¡¯t been able to get her Qi prepared in time, and a shock of impact ran up her leg as she was thrown back by the dog¡¯s momentum.


    Her echolocation told her that the dog behind her was still stunned, so she turned the movement into a back flip, almost without meaning to. While in the air, a series of possible movements popped into her internal awareness, as if she was looking at a chart showing her body¡¯s potential paths through space. She chose one in an instant, and her back flip turned into a handspring that redirected her energy straight up. She spun to face the back of the alley landed with one foot and stomped with the other on the big dog¡¯s head, directing all her Qi into a vicious heel strike. Spores and blood shot out from the strike in a circle at her knee height, but she was already leaping from wall to wall along the alley, following the movements planned on her internal awareness. The more injured of the two remaining dogs was the next to fall, to another critical palm strike.


    Lilijoy felt exaltation and guilt warring within her. Now that she had begun to truly use her skills it was all so easy, the poor low-level moldy dogs didn¡¯t have a chance. But it felt great to move so freely and to strike so powerfully. She wasn¡¯t even using Flash, though she suspected it might be possible for her now if she had a chance to practice.


    After she defeated the last dog, the dogs¡¯ owner and four other Corrupted Farmers burst from the homes with pitchforks and axes. Maybe they were intended to be more challenging than the dogs, but Lilijoy found the fight almost laughable. The farmers were slow and wielded their weapons clumsily. She had them spinning in circles and running into each other as she demolished their health. Fighting humans, even moldy ones, was much easier than animals, due to her training and knowledge of anatomy. A quick scan of an axe-wielding farmer showed her one interesting thing though.


    <hr>


    Corrupted Farmer: Level 6


    70 HP


    Primary Attack: Wood Axe (7-36)


    Damage Abatement: 2-6


    Disposition: Hostile


    <hr>


    The damage from weapons was no joke. She could see now why Rosemallow promoted the Invulnerability stat so strongly; she could only imagine the kind of damage a powerful warrior with a huge sword could deal out. Each five points of Strength added one point to damage, and Power multiplied Strength, so having a fifty in both traits would provide thirty-five points of damage on top of the weapon¡¯s substantial base damage. Add a decent level of skill, such as an Enhanced Expert, and the totals for even a normal hit would be devastating.


    She doubted the farmers had any such skills, or strength for that matter, but it seemed like INV was subtracted from the damage after the critical hit multiplier and not before. Even a lowly farmer could potentially one-shot her with a critical hit.


    With her new understanding of the danger, Lilijoy got serious, and quickly finished off her opponents. As the last of them fell, she moved away from the spore clouds that filled the square and waited for the next shoe to drop. Her Mana was a little low, as her new Qi strikes and Acrobatics skill had caused it to drain faster than before, but it still took less than a minute to return to full. After another minute she decided that no more creatures were likely to burst out of the houses. She wondered what had become of the cats and the moldy granny.


    They were probably all holed up in her house, she decided after another peaceful minute. She was reasonably sure that the cats had issued from the same house she fell into earlier. It just didn¡¯t seem right to her, crashing into the house and Qi blasting everything in sight. All the cats had done was try to rub against her, and the granny had offered her pie.


    Deciding to go a different direction, she walked up to the mold granny¡¯s door and knocked politely.


    After several seconds she heard shuffling and an odd burbling sound. Ready for anything, she stepped back, but tried to keep a polite smile fixed upon her face. The door¡¯s latch jiggled for so long that Lilijoy was afraid that granny was no longer able to open her door, but finally the door swung in, and the old woman, or former old woman, stepped into view, carrying her dish of mold.


    ¡°Have you come to buy a pie, dear? Only a copper for the best pie in the land,¡± she barbled in her distorted voice.


    A copper was what everyone called the large copper coin worth one tenth of a silver. The smaller copper coins, worth a tenth of that, were called pence. Lilijoy didn¡¯t know if that was a good price or not, but it didn¡¯t really matter.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t have any money,¡± she explained. The woman stood there in the afternoon sun streaming through her open door; Lilijoy could almost see her features through the thick mat of white tendrils. Instead of seeing a monster, she saw something tragic; a kindly grandmother disfigured and diminished by disease, still wearing a dress and apron she had probably loved to wear while baking pies for travelers and villagers alike.


    She knew that it was just a scenario. That there was no conscious being inside the pathetic figure. But the same could be said of a picture, or even a story of tragedy and suffering. The medium did not diminish the reality of tragedy and suffering. If anything, it crystallized and heightened it. Tears came to her eyes, and she reached out, first with her hand, thought not so far as to touch, and then with her mind. She activated Two Minds One Self.


    Rather than resistance, she felt diffusion, and an almost intangible impression of thousand of tiny impulses forming a veil of need. A need for nutrients, for¡­ expansion. Unlike the plants and the animals she had interacted with there was no center. There was only a hazy, impressionist gauze of collected instinct, a seeking of death external and death internal. Death was food, death was life and expansion and expansion was growing and bursting and dying.


    We eat to die, they realized.


    Then, they realized there was still more, behind the veil, behind the gauze, a muted torment, the volume turned low on anguish, and a desire to fulfill the same eternal cycle of death and rebirth, the desire to end, for now. And oddly, the desire to sell pie.


    There was no center to this other layer of thought either. Lilijoy, because in this mixing of haze and gauze there was still a Lilijoy, said, ¡°We should eat, eat and grow and die and end,¡± and the thought spread across the veil, and all the tiny impulses ate like they never had before, and grew like they never had before, until they burst and died and spread.


    Lilijoy emerged and backed away just as the moldy granny collapsed into herself, her form crumbling into a pile of moldy filament, sending a vast cloud of spores out over the square. She held her breath just in time to avoid inhaling the toxic packages, though she did get the spores on her skin.


    <hr>


    You have suffered severe topical exposure to Fuzzy Fungal Blight


    -15 VIT (0), -15 END (40), -30 INV (7) HP now 65


    <hr>


    Guess I helped make the mold even stronger. Oops.


    On the plus side, the cats must have succumbed immediately to the new strain as well, as she got the following notice.


    <hr>


    Congratulations!


    You have completed The Corrupted Village


    (Scenario for 8-12 total levels)


    Solo and Within Level Range Award: 6 Silver


    All ongoing effects canceled


    <hr>


    Lilijoy was thrilled to see that there was a reward for completing the scenario. On the run back to the Academy, she asked Rosemallow about it.


    ¡°Yeah, some of the old scenarios have a reward. It¡¯s actually pretty rare now. I think that this one has been kept around almost as a museum piece. Mostly, you keep what you can find.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s to keep someone from doing it over and over?¡±


    ¡°You mean aside from soul crushing boredom?¡±


    ¡°I bet it beats gathering herbs all day.¡±


    ¡°Guess it depends on the herbs. But most scenarios only let you complete them once. If you were to try to enter the village tomorrow after it reset you would find it difficult.¡±


    ¡°At the end, I kind of strengthened the mold. Do you think that will last?¡±


    ¡°I guess the next group of noobs will get to find out, huh? But seriously, a reset is a reset. It¡¯s always the same.¡±


    Lilijoy considered this for a moment. ¡°I think that¡¯s a good thing. So when I used my points, how come I only raised Scan and not other abilities?¡±


    Rosemallow scoffed. ¡°You can raise the others without points, can¡¯t you? I¡¯m sure your next dumb question is why none of your Magi skills are raised as high as they can go. The answer is that the natural skills are harder to raise if the Magi score is stronger. Generally speaking, I would never put points into a skill until at least Apprentice level.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I had figured that out, but I did want to know why we raised Plant Charm and not Animal Charm.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s more of a judgment call. I think your Animal Charm is high enough to last you a good long while, but your Plant Charm you should get as high as you can without wasting points. We can revisit it in a couple levels.¡±


    The question Lilijoy was really burning to ask was when she could level up again. She wasn¡¯t sure how many experience points she had banked up, but she knew it was at least enough for another level, maybe even two. She decided to approach the issue obliquely.


    ¡°How much experience did I get from the scenario?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t looked.¡±


    ¡°Could you?¡±


    Rosemallow slowed and stopped, motioning Lilijoy to do the same. The sun was just beginning to set beyond the line of trees in front of them, and a cool dry breeze swept the grass around them in a wave of yellow-green.


    ¡°Look, kid. I get it. It¡¯s all about the experience and the levels. It¡¯s exciting to get stronger, raise your stats, yada yada.¡± She looked down at Lilijoy and her face was serious. ¡°What you need to learn, and hopefully not the hard way, is that strength attracts strength. The stronger you get, the more difficulty will come your way. Get out of balance, get strong without the experience, the true experience, to back it up, and you¡¯ll end up in a world of hurt. Worse off than if you had taken it slow.¡±


    She sighed and looked at the red clouds around the setting sun. ¡°That¡¯s my job, to slow things down and make sure you learn right. You have a hell of an advantage, if you play your cards right.¡± She looked back down at Lilijoy. ¡°And you¡¯re going to need every last bit of it in the shitstorm that¡¯s coming.¡±


    Without another word, her trainer took off at a pace that forced Lilijoy to use all of her focus on gathering so that she could maintain Flash. She had just enough energy to note how similar Rosemallow¡¯s words were to the Dean¡¯s, even though the two of them couldn¡¯t be more different in approach.


    As they neared the Academy, Rosemallow waved and took off in a different direction, leaving Lilijoy to herself. Within minutes she was within the Academy and heading to her room.


    ***


    The scenario set itself back at midnight, mold and all. Curiously, there were reports that, every once in a while, the old moldy granny would leave her house and wander around the village with her dish of mold.


    ¡°Have you seen that nice girl?¡± she was said to ask. ¡°I do so want her to try my pie.¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 22: Mission

    Interlude: Attaboy


    The bed in his new room was like nothing he had ever imagined. Attaboy wasn¡¯t sure if it would be possible to sleep on something so squishy. For about the hundredth time he bounced his weight on the soft substance laying on what he considered to be the actual bed, debating whether he should move to the floor when he actually wanted to sleep.


    It was great to sit on though, with such a soft covering too. He used his special eye power to look more closely, and couldn¡¯t find a single crawling creature, which was nice.


    The day had been amazing, overwhelming, confusing.


    Mostly confusing.


    He had walked with Dr. Quimea around the grounds of the southern sanctuary. When they walked through the people punching the air, everyone cast their eyes down and held themselves absolutely still.


    ¡°You see, Attaboy,¡± Dr. Quimea said, ignoring the silent figures all around him. ¡°Our clan respects strength. Every member strives to get strong, to be worthy.¡±


    Attaboy wasn¡¯t sure what ¡®worthy¡¯ meant, but he thought that Dr. Quimea must be much stronger than he looked, if all these people were so scared of him. He hastened his footsteps to keep up with the Doctor¡¯s leisurely pace.


    ¡°Would you like to be strong, Attaboy?¡±


    He was suddenly very aware that everyone could hear his reply. What else could he say?


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    His ear allowed him to hear the sharp intake of breath from several of the people. Did he say the wrong thing?


    Dr. Quimea continued as if he hadn¡¯t. ¡°Very good. Sinaloa is strength.¡±


    "Sinaloa es fuerza!¡± all the assembled people yelled, making Attaboy jump.


    <hr>


    Chapter 22: Mission


    Magpie hesitated at the door to her room, exhausted from another long day of social engineering. This time, her trainer had pushed her out of the Academy building and into town. There, her mission was to gain a thorough understanding of the social and financial network between the various merchants and shop keepers, all while raising her reputation among the untempered.


    It hadn¡¯t been a total waste of time though. Her trainer had suggested she raise her Disguise skill to Upgraded Journeyman, as a special allowance for her task.


    Disguise turned out to have more depth than she had expected. Aside from the obvious ability to look like someone else with makeup, costumes and such, she was able to use the Magi component to build a false profile for interacting with others. As long as the disguise worked, all the reputation gains and losses would accrue to the profile, rather than her main character. It also gave a bonus to her Deception skill for changing her public information.


    All day long she had been posing as a variety of students, visitors, traveling merchants, and any other character she could think of to fit her needs. She would learn from one merchant about the price of maple wood, or the clan that was cornering the market on cinnabar. Then she would go to a different shop and use the information to ingratiate herself and hear some local gossip. Then another shop to spread the gossip and so forth.


    At least it was a more interesting subject than the love lives of Academy students, and by the day¡¯s end she had a great appreciation for the value of information in any economy. With just a few well placed rumors, she could cause chaos in the little community, now that she understood the various players, pressure points and inflections. It was quite a bit like unarmed combat, in a way, all about leverage.


    It had been clear to her that several of the merchants saw through her disguise, but their only reaction had been a bit of an eye roll or a long suffering sigh. Clearly, she was not the first student tasked with this assignment. Living and working near the Academy had accustomed them to all sorts of shenanigans, so her reputation never took any serious hits. It probably didn¡¯t hurt that she had taken pains to overpay for some useless trinket anywhere she had been discovered.


    Mission accomplished, she dragged herself back to the room, only to hear excited conversation through the door. If she had retained any energy, she would have been more excited to hear Lily¡¯s voice. Instead, she felt a wave of exhaustion and a dull acceptance.


    It¡¯s about time. Let the games begin.


    She braced herself and opened the door. Three sets of eyes turned to her.


    ¡°Hi Magpie!¡± Skria and Lily said in unison. They were both standing behind a seated Jessila, almost obscured by a massive pile of hair they had released on her head. Magpie was a little surprised to see that Jessila¡¯s brown hair was streaked with waves of an almost golden blond. Jessila wore a stoic expression; her eyes had the distant look of a prisoner or a refugee accepting that life was no longer under their control.


    ¡°I heard that you met Skria and Jessila,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Isn¡¯t it great we¡¯re all here for the first time? We were just talking about Jessila¡¯s advisor.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a real jerk,¡± added Skria.


    ¡°Can you believe that he¡¯s only met with her once?¡±


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t even seen him since we got back.¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s prejudiced.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not even in a magic class.¡±


    ¡°I think she should try to switch.¡±


    The rapid back and forth made Magpie a little dizzy.


    ¡°Do you think she can?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. Clearly, he¡¯s not helping.¡±


    Jessila made a grunting sound.


    ¡°No, Jess, you shouldn¡¯t have to do it on your own.¡±


    ¡°Can you believe how beautiful her hair is?¡±


    ¡°I know! Jess, you¡¯re so lucky.¡±


    There was another grunt.


    ¡°So, Magpie, how was your day? I got to do a scenario!¡±


    ¡°Really? What was it like? We just camped in the woods during experience term and hunted for monsters for two weeks, and it was rotten,¡± said Skria.


    ¡°It was amazing. And horrible at the same time. I¡¯m still processing to be honest.¡±


    ¡°What kind of monster did it have?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Magpie realized she had yet to say a single word and wondered if there was some kind of special skill needed to participate in this conversation. Maybe she could talk fast enough if she used Flash? Finally she broke in.


    ¡°I spent the day in town.¡±


    Skria looked almost startled that Magpie spoke. Of course, she looked startled most of the time with her huge round eyes.


    ¡°Oh! Did you go shopping? What did you get? Did you see Mr. Sennit?¡± Lily asked.


    Magpie quickly thought through the odds and ends she had picked up to mollify various shop keepers. She realized that it would have been smart to get a gift for Lilijoy on purpose, but she could always pretend after the fact.


    There was a plain silver ring she had bought for herself, since it raised Charm: Sentients by a point. She had figured she needed all the charm she could get. The folding knife had come from a weapons shop; it wasn¡¯t magic, but it was well made, with a walnut handle and steel blade. She had paid three silver for the damn thing, a total ripoff, even considering metal items were exorbitantly expensive. A crystal pendant that glowed in the presence of elves was the cheapest thing she could find at the shop specializing in, naturally enough, magic crystals. That had cost two silver. The leviathan bone comb, the wooden carving of a gnome and the charcoal drawing of the Academy had all come from various street vendors who wouldn¡¯t talk to her until she purchased something.


    She realized suddenly that she would need to give a gift to all her roommates or it would look weird. Thinking fast, she started with the no-brainer.


    ¡°Actually, I picked up a little something for each of you. Jessila, since you were so interested in my hair this morning, I thought of you when I saw this.¡±


    She handed the comb to Jessila, who took it from her hand tentatively. Moving on, Magpie brought out the knife. ¡°I figured this would come in handy until you can afford a real blade,¡± she said to Lily as she gave it to her. Lily started to say something but Magpie cut her off, turning to Skria. She was still trying to decide whether to give her the ring or keep it for herself. Remembering the fruit from the morning, she pulled out the useless crystal pendant.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t much, I just thought it looked pretty.¡±


    As soon as Magpie removed the pendant from her inventory, it began to softly glow.


    ¡°Um, I¡¯m not sure why it¡¯s doing that,¡± she managed to say.


    Skria gasped. ¡°Magpie, this is magic! You really shouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was supposed to glow in the presence of elves or something. Not super useful, if you ask me, but¡­ ¡°


    She was interrupted by a strange sound, a groaning, shaking inhalation. The source of the sound was Jessila, who had her hands over her face. Her shoulders were heaving.


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± said Skria. ¡°I think Jessila¡¯s upset about something.¡± She put her tiny hands on Jessila¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Jess, what¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked, while Lily looked on with concern.


    The big girl looked up at Magpie. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. Her voice was warm, and gentle and round, almost musical, and not at all what Magpie expected after all the grunting. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She got to her feet and stumbled into her room, hair streaming behind her. As soon as the door closed, Lilijoy whispered to Skria.


    ¡°What was that all about?¡±


    Skria leaned over and whispered back. Magpie had to turn her hearing all the way up to hear what she was saying.


    ¡°People weren¡¯t exactly nice to Jessila when she was growing up. I¡¯m guessing that she didn¡¯t know what to do when Magpie gave her a gift. Either that or the elf thing. Probably some of both, really.¡±


    ¡°Elf thing?¡± asked Lily.


    Skria looked at Lily, confusion on her face.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Know what?¡±


    ¡°Jessila¡¯s part elf. It¡¯s easy to tell from her eyes and skin.¡±


    Lily and Magpie exchanged glances, and Magpie approached the huddle.


    ¡°Why would that upset her?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Elves are a little snobby. They used to be okay with it, I hear, but ever since the exodus, they really hate humans, especially Outsiders. And of course, they¡¯ve never really liked orcs either, even if the Urkurs have usually gotten along with them.¡±


    Lily looked as confused as Magpie felt.


    ¡°I feel like there¡¯s a lot going on here that I don¡¯t understand,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°What are Urkurs?¡± added Magpie.


    Skria looked at them with pity. ¡°I sometimes forget how little you Outsiders know about things that matter. Urkurs are the bear totem orc tribe. Jess is part Urkurs, part human and part elf, and all three races have it in for her. I haven¡¯t figured out why.¡±


    Now things made a little more sense. Magpie remember that Runk had been from the boar tribe, the Urusk orcs. ¡°Do the different orc tribes resemble their totem animals?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Of course, silly,¡± Skria said with a laugh. ¡°Anyway, I should go check on her. See you guys later.¡± She went over to Jess¡¯s door and let herself in after knocking.


    After a moment of thoughtful silence, Lily spoke.


    ¡°Thanks for the knife, Magpie. That was really thoughtful. I hope it wasn¡¯t expensive.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a little thing,¡± Magpie replied.


    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot!¡± Lily pulled some coins out of her inventory. ¡°I got a reward for completing the scenario today. Now I only owe you a favor!¡±


    Thanks for the perfect setup, Magpie thought. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about that.¡± she said. ¡°Although¡­ ¡°


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Okay, there is one tiny thing. Probably nothing. And you have to promise me you won¡¯t get carried away.¡±


    ¡°Carried away how?¡±


    Magpie assumed a serious expression. ¡°We haven¡¯t known each other long, Lily, but I get the sense that you¡¯re involved in some serious stuff. You won¡¯t talk about the Outside, which is fine by the way,¡± she hastened to add. ¡°And you said you needed to infiltrate a compound, and you need to learn about the clans. Honestly, I¡¯m worried about you. I don¡¯t want to add anything to your plate. So you have to promise me that you will only keep an ear out for information. No spying, no investigating. Just, if you happen to hear something, you¡¯ll let me know. Promise?¡±


    ¡°I promise!¡± Lily was practically bouncing. ¡°Now tell me what I can do.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a clan that has threatened my clan. They¡¯re really bad people, Lily. Way stronger than my clan too. All I ask is that if you find out someone is a member or you hear any gossip, you let me know.¡±


    Wait for it¡­


    ¡°Of course I will, Magpie. You can count on me.¡± She paused. ¡°Um¡­ what clan is it?¡±


    Bingo. ¡°Sinaloa.¡±


    ***


    An hour later, Magpie was humming to herself as she walked down the hallway. In your face, Raven! she thought. She was pretty sure she hadn¡¯t heard the whole story yet, but she had what she needed. What Uncle needed. She reached the hidden door she was looking for and entered the chamber beyond. Once there, she activated the wards to prevent scrying.


    Gotta love Inside security protocols.


    She pulled out the geode she had been carrying around for days, waiting for this moment. Strictly speaking, it was half a geode. The other half was somewhere else, she had no idea where, but the two halves were linked in such a way as to allow voice communication.


    She took a moment to admire the purple and white crystals on the inside of the semi-spherical rock, and then spoke. ¡°A little birdy told me something you might want to hear.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sorry, the rock you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please check your address and try again. Boop.¡±


    ¡°Real professional, Raven.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I know my audience.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Uncle?¡±


    ¡°What, you think he pines by the rock, waiting for your increasingly delayed call? I¡¯m your contact on this gig.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Subject¡¯s Outside name is Lilijoy, good luck finding records; she was a tribal indigene in the northern amazon with no connectivity until a month ago. Her friend or brother, she wasn¡¯t clear on which, is being held at a Sinaloa compound, probably in Columbia. Intelligence is from Renaissance, over two weeks old.¡±


    ¡°Renaissance, eh? Not exactly known for their spycraft. What does Sinaloa want with a gob?¡±


    ¡°The subject was evasive. They want something he has, possibly legacy nanotech. Whatever it is, they haven¡¯t gotten its location out of him, or so the subject thinks¡±


    ¡°Must be a tough little bugger. I doubt I¡¯d last a day under Sinaloa methods. Still doesn¡¯t answer the important question though. What is she in all of this?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s where it gets weird. Apparently, she has access to the same nanotech, so it''s at least something like a Rank One. It can¡¯t be anything standard, or Sinaloa wouldn¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°And how do you explain her performance in the Trial, and the signs of previous training? Something about her has all the subsets stirred up.¡±


    ¡°Some combination of luck and natural talent, I guess?¡± Here, Magpie knew she was on shaky ground. ¡°I think she¡¯s a savant of some kind. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time someone came out of nowhere and changed the game.¡±


    ¡°Like Echelon?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, just like that.¡±


    Echelon had been the son of agricultural workers who indentured themselves to provide a system to their autistic child. He had emerged from the Trial with incredibly high affinities for all elements, or so the story went; it had all happened sixty years ago or so. Too old for the Academy, he had somehow managed to gain four sources and teach himself enough magic to become the most powerful Outsider Mage within two years of his arrival. Then he moved on to Purgatory and disappeared. Depending on who you talked to, he had either been torture banned by powerful clans, died on the Outside from a stroke caused by overusing his brain, or discovered a new area beyond Purgatory and never returned.


    There was a long silence from the other end. Then Raven spoke again. ¡°Alright. Here¡¯s the next step. Think of it as a graduation exercise. You will obtain the Outside location of the subject¡¯s brother. The method is up to you, but expect no support beyond what Buzzard can provide from within the Academy. You are expected to maintain deniability to any Flock involvement. A win scenario is defined by the continuing good will of the subject, secrecy from the Corp, and you actually getting your shit together enough to pull it off. Understood?¡±


    ¡°What should I tell the subject?¡±


    ¡°Make up whatever you want, as long as you maintain Flock deniability. Leave the rock in here when you go.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Finally, a real mission. She already had some ideas for how to pull it off.

 Book 2: Ch. 23: Subtle

    Interlude: Doctor Quimea


    He read over the test results once again.


    They made no sense, and he had been designing and growing bugs for over a century. Of course, most of that time he had been working within the byzantine limitations of the Inside alchemy system, but still...


    No intact nanobodies in the cerebrospinal fluid, only trace elements that had no business being in anyone¡¯s body. Were they pollutants? Probably not. They were present in much greater concentration there than in blood or tissue samples.


    Nanobody probes had simply shut down as soon as they passed the skull. Something was in there all right. It was a mystery, and an opportunity, enough to make him feel like he had in his first century of life.


    But how to crack the black box? How to get the golden eggs without killing the goose?


    He had his suspicions about the system in the boy¡¯s head. Henry Choi sized suspicions.


    Quimea had only been a young man during the tribulations, studying nanochemistry in Mexico as best he could after the Houston incident destroyed his university. He had already had a basic system at that point though, and everything he read during that time was only a moment¡¯s thought away. The paper abstract floated in his memory, titled Safety Through Scarcity: Rare Earth Element Compounds as a Growth Limiting Factor in Self Replicating Nanosystems. Dr. Henry Choi had presented the paper at a conference in 2052. Unfortunately, as far as Dr. Quimea knew, it had never been published or peer reviewed.


    Of course, that was hardly unusual at the time. Nations and companies were hoarding information tightly, and the idea of science as an international, human pursuit had all but died. By the seventies, he had been forced to rely on archived copies of internet journals years out of date to even be remotely competent in his chosen field.


    Luckily, refining the Dream System for what was known at the time as the Sinaloa Cartel hardly required work at the cutting edge. His thoughts drifted back to the small group of colleagues, friends even, who had worked so closely to make Suenos something more than a glorified drug delivery method. Alberto, Gloria, Joseph¡­


    With a disgusted snort, he pulled himself from his reverie. ¡°System, restrict memory access to relevant materials. Increase focus levels.¡±


    Now, to get those golden eggs...


    <hr>


    Chapter 23: Subtle


    The day after talking with Magpie, Lilijoy felt a great sense of relief. Finally she had someone who she could confide to on the Inside. A friend even. She hadn¡¯t told her everything of course. She didn¡¯t want to place Magpie in any unnecessary danger, and just knowing about her system would be enough to do that. Plus, the girl seemed nervous all the time, her heart always beating just a little faster than seemed necessary to Lilijoy. She would hate to add even more stress to her life.


    The best thing was that they had a common enemy. She was sure that Magpie would be able to help, at least a little, since she knew more than Lilijoy about the clans, and lots of sneaking-around type things besides that. Maybe she could help her figure out where to even start.


    The best plan Lilijoy had come up with was to drive a hovercar up to Columbia and try to find a Sinaloa outpost. Then she would somehow capture someone, and use her system to force them to tell her where other outposts were, maybe where they kept prisoners.


    It wasn¡¯t much of a plan, but that¡¯s what she was going to do if Magpie didn¡¯t have a better idea.


    In the meantime, she would redouble her efforts to grow stronger. She needed to find Rosemallow and ask for some more weapons training, and work more on her Stealth skill. The other classes were secondary, much as she loved them. Except maybe Acrobatics. She felt a little guilty, because she hadn¡¯t been able to attend that one yet. She decided that should be her first priority of the day; then she would know if it was worth her time, this term anyway.


    The morning passed quickly. Acrobatics class was¡­ interesting. While in her other classes, Lilijoy was just another student, in Acrobatics class she was a prodigy. She became the center of attention within minutes of the class beginning when she completed the complicated sequence of tumbling, jumping and parkour that was supposed to take them the entire term, having seen it demonstrated once.


    The instructor, a compact and muscular bald headed man with a handlebar mustache, had been angry with her at first, taking her for an advanced student purposefully mocking the class. Only when she showed him her pared down character sheet did he realize that she was there in good faith.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a Kinesthetic Awareness score that high, period, let alone in a human,¡± he said. ¡°You may be at the apprentice level, but you won¡¯t stay there for long.¡±


    His words turned out to be prescient. By the end of the class time, she had reached Journeyman rank.


    ¡°Look,¡± he said, as she was about to leave the training area. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you would get by coming back to this class. You need to be around the best of the best. If I were you, I¡¯d spend an experience term living with tree folk in the canopies of the Southern Jungles. They have KA scores around one-twenty, at least those I¡¯ve met in my time here. The kind of acrobatics we train here at the Academy is what they can do by the time they¡¯re five. You¡¯d fit right in.¡±


    Even though the instructor deprecated the training, Lilijoy had learned some valuable skills, including a technique for falling long distances safely and another for swinging her body around a horizontal pole. Both techniques had the familiar feeling of rediscovering something she had once known, which let her know that her system was at work. She figured the Tao system was responsible for her acrobatics abilities, much as it was behind her knowledge of plants and animals. And medicine. And pretty much everything else she knew.


    It continued to be a disconcerting thought. How much of her was actually her? Even without access to much of Stage two, her integration to all the knowledge in the web archive from the twenty-first century was nearly seamless. She was an empty vessel that the Tao system had filled, or so it felt. There was enough continuity of consciousness that she still felt like the ignorant gob from the piles who couldn¡¯t even speak in first person, but was she actually some weird amalgamation of the collective thoughts of millions of people who lived two hundred years ago, telling herself she was still Lilijoy from the Amazon wastes?


    The thought made her oddly homesick. She had been avoiding thoughts of home and the tribe for the better part of a week now, actively repressing such thoughts, to be honest. There was a can of worms, a Pandora¡¯s box waiting for her back at Night¡¯s Safety, with implications too difficult to process emotionally and intellectually. At least, that had been how she felt when she first conceived the notion that her tribe, or some portion thereof, were Tao System users. Or former Tao System users. She replayed the conversation with Jiannu that had given her the notion, feeling a twinge of sadness as she heard Jiannu¡¯s comforting voice.


    ¡°Our fates are linked. If the system wished to do you harm, do you not think it could have easily taken control already? You are the driving spark behind everything that happens or will ever happen in your mind. Without your mental integrity and force of will, we would be an empty shell, unable to do anything but maintain survival of the physical body.¡±


    ¡°So if I got injured like Anda...¡±


    ¡°It would take more physical trauma, approaching total destruction of the cognitive centers of the brain. But yes. If you received a sufficiently grave brain injury, I would be alone, unable to act in any meaningful way, even if most of the physical structures were rebuilt.¡±


    ¡°What if I was almost, but not quite, completely brain damaged? What would that look like?¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°You might retain traces of old behaviors, have rare moments of memory or even lucidity. You might be able to interact with the system to some extent.¡±


    It described her tribe. Empty shells, unable to do anything but maintain physical survival. Some of them, Timout for one, retained some memories, some hints of personality. Grabby also had sometimes shown flashes of lucidity, at times acting caring and concerned for Lilijoy and Attaboy. Others were almost robotic in their routines and mannerisms. Pinton, her personal nemesis as a child, had possessed a single minded desire for Lilijoy and Attaboy to run and exercise. Every morning had been the same.


    ¡°Get up, maggots!¡± he would yell, kicking them if they were slow to leave the warm, damp confines of Night¡¯s Safety. ¡°Those laps aren¡¯t going to run themselves!¡±.


    Then he would force them to run in large circles in the dry wastes around their home, sometimes for hours, until whatever urge to inflict pain on them had been satisfied. Now that she had been training with Rosemallow, she had a little more context for this behavior. In fact, now that she thought about it, Rosemallow had even asked if she had been trained on the Outside, due to her high Endurance stat.


    After the morning run, there was usually some other kind of torment. Lilijoy and Attaboy, near collapse from hunger and dehydration, would be forced to climb trees, or jump around waving their arms. They had learned that if they pretended to faint, and ignored Pinton¡¯s kicks and yelling, he might leave them alone, wandering off to Night¡¯s Safety where he would sit silently in the dark. As long as they stayed away from him for the rest of the day, he wouldn''t bother them again. It only worked in the afternoon though. If they pretended to drop from exhaustion in the morning, he would yell and beat on them until they got back to their feet.


    Looking back, Lilijoy was amazed she had survived her childhood. Luckily, Pinton¡¯s kicks and beatings always stopped short of true injury. And sometimes, Pinton would fixate on other members of her tribe for a time. She and Attaboy were the youngest members, but there were others who held a similar status below the Bros. They had learned to get up well before sunrise to avoid Pinton¡¯s attention, which usually worked for them. When Attaboy and Lilijoy tried that though, Pinton would hunt them down. She had always assumed it was because they were the youngest, but perhaps he had some other reason buried deeply in his rigid program.


    Her theory explained so much, but begged so many questions. How did her tribe come to be? Why was there an isolated population of Tao System users, and what disaster had befallen them? She had been given a population of nanobots that used to be a part of Emily Choi¡¯s sytem, had been named after Emily too, and she would bet the same had occurred to Attaboy, only with Atticus Choi¡¯s system. There had to be a connection to Henry and Gabriella Choi, the parents of Emily and Atticus, the creators of the Tao System.


    Somehow, the tribe, the Tao System zombies, as she had begun to think of them, were still following programming from a bygone era, and it had resulted in the creation of echos of the Choi children. Were she and Attaboy even the first? Maybe every time children were born in the tribe, they were named after Emily and Atticus and given the System. Except the way that it all unfolded was so bizarre. Why wait until they were on the verge of death? Why exile them with no help or chance to understand what was happening?


    If it had happened before, Lilijoy could easily imagine why there was no sign of it in what modern records there were. She should have died and Attaboy probably should have died too, based on her memory of his appearance as Grabby carried him off. She certainly believed he had at the time. Maybe there were tiny skeletons of former Lilijoys and Attaboys scattered around the Amazon wastes.


    Putting these morbid thoughts and the mysteries associated with them aside, she forced her mind back to the present. After Acrobatics, she had gone in search of her trainer. Searching fruitlessly for a time, she realized it had been forever since she had visited Professor Anaskafius and made her way to his office. There, he taught her how to supplement her Scan skill with her Deception skill and Charm to overcome other¡¯s attempts to hide or change their information.


    Next was Subtle Arts class. She made her way through the dark area and into the adjoining room with the four paths. Now that she had a better idea of how to use Magi skills from her experience at the corrupted village, she had no problem extending her Mana to her feet to suppress sound and pass through the paths. Then she realized that this would not be an option Outside, and went back and practiced until she could do it without Mana. The nightingale floor was still the most difficult, but Magpie¡¯s suggested trick of sliding on her back worked well to keep the creaking calls of the wood to a tolerable minimum.


    ¡°Good work,¡± came the anonymous instructor¡¯s voice. ¡°Of course, now everyone here who has been paying attention will know the trick too.¡±


    It seemed a strange mindset to Lilijoy. Why wouldn¡¯t the instructor want the students to know how to pass the class? As if reading her thoughts, the disembodied voice continued.


    ¡°There¡¯s a reason we call it The Subtle Arts. It¡¯s not just techniques that you are learning, but a way of thinking and acting. You must learn to hide not only your body, but also your knowledge and abilities. See, but be not seen. Think, but be not thought of. The edge owns the center like darkness surrounds the light. To be subtle is to be the threshold, the shadow, the unknown and unforeseen.¡±


    That seemed like a lot of trouble to Lilijoy. Who would want to live their life like that, always hiding who they were and what they could do? Though she couldn¡¯t argue that it wasn¡¯t exactly what had been forced on her by her need to hide her system.


    ¡°So what do I do now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Now the fun begins. Return to the first room, where the students who cannot see are fumbling in the dark. If you would look down at your tunic, you will notice you have five sticky patches that I placed on you earlier. Your mission is to place them on the persons of students without being noticed."


    Lilijoy gathered up the red rectangles from her front, feeling a bit sheepish they had been placed without her notice. Their silky material weighed nothing in her hand.


    ¡°It is possible that others have the same mission. Your secondary task is to remove as many of their tags as you can find. At the end of class, there will be a tally of those successfully placed, worth three points, and those you have removed, worth one point. This will continue for the remaining classes of the term, and at the end, the person with the highest score will receive a prize.¡±


    ¡°Can I come to more than one class a day?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you only get five patches to place per day.¡±


    ¡°What if I get caught?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s up to the person who catches you.¡±


    Lilijoy went to the dark room, deep in thought. What the instructor had said to her about staying at the edges still resonated. She didn¡¯t think it was an act of random philosophy, not anymore. It was more like instructions for how to play this game well. If she just went around in the dark placing patches on the unseeing students, she would be plainly visible to anyone else playing the game. They could follow her around and remove her patches as she placed them. The room wasn¡¯t dark for everyone. She needed to stay at the edges of the huge room and watch for others placing the patches.


    With all of her sensory abilities combined, the room was quite clear, though it did get a bit blurry outside of a thirty foot radius or so, where her passive echolocation stopped contributing. She spent several minutes with her back against the wall, watching students stumble around. Their persistence was admirable, especially since the instructor had said it could take them several terms to even earn the basic low light vision ability. It didn''t seem likely there were many students playing the game yet, but she had missed a day of class on her scenario trip, and the classes ran all day long too, so there was no way of guessing how many competitors she would have at this point. Some would probably be doing what she was, hanging back to observe, while others would be less subtle.


    The unseeing students were anything but subtle. Lilijoy watched, wincing occasionally as they bumbled around, hitting their shins and stubbing their toes on various obstacles. How can they not have discovered a basic foot sweeping technique? she asked herself, as she watched a student flip over a low railing and land on their back with a curse.


    A strategy came to her. A marvelously subtle strategy. She walked up to the formerly prone student, who had regained his feet.


    ¡°Keep your weight on the back leg,¡± she hissed, almost inaudibly. ¡°Make circles in front of you with your front foot and hand on each step, always ending with the moving foot six inches in front of where it was.¡±


    The student looked around, startled. ¡°Are you the instructor?¡± he whispered back.


    ¡°I¡¯m your instructor at the moment,¡± she hedged. ¡°Go on, try it.¡±


    The boy, a large warrior-looking fellow to Lilijoy¡¯s eyes, did as she asked.


    ¡°Slower,¡± she whispered. ¡°Let me guide you.¡±


    She reached up to his arm and showed him the correct movement.


    ¡°Keep your eyes open, but also listen. There are echos all around us.¡±


    With these parting words, she moved off to find another student to help. After she had visited several of the clumsiest, she planted her first patch, while keeping an eye on her previous pupils. Sure enough, she saw other students move from various places of concealment to look for any patches she had planted. Now she knew who her competition was. As a bonus, she had already removed three patches from the students she assisted.


    By the end of class, she had made contact with twenty students, planted two more patches as she helped, and removed six. Often, her competitor¡¯s planted patches were easy to find, as they glowed faintly from the residual heat of the planter¡¯s hand. When she returned to the room with four paths, the invisible instructor complimented her strategy.


    ¡°But,¡± he said, ¡°This will not help you improve your skills much. There is one more rule, that is usually revealed once more students are participating. A patch placed on a competitor is worth eight points, if they have not noticed by the end of class. The patches will slowly fade from view, so that they can¡¯t just look over themselves near the end of class. It will also cost you eight points if you are found to have a sticker on you. Over the rest of term, class will be ending at increasingly random times, so don¡¯t get complacent.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it give me an unfair advantage to know this before the other students?¡±


    There was a long silence. ¡°Who says you are the first to know? You might want to check your back.¡±


    Lilijoy quickly reached over her shoulders and around her sides, before finally just pulling her arms in and turning her tunic around completely. There was no sign of any sticker.


    ¡°Very funny,¡± she said to the air around her. There was no reply.

 Book 2: Ch. 24: Break

    Interlude: Attaboy


    Attaboy¡¯s second breakfast was sitting heavily in his stomach as he followed the short white girl to Doctor Quimea¡¯s place. She wasn''t much bigger than he was, and everything about her fascinated him.


    For one, she was white, not just of skin, which Attaboy had seen a few times now, but her waist-length hair and eyes as well. A second intriguing quality was the object she wore at the side of her flowing red robes. It was long enough that she kept one hand at her side pushing on the handle so that the other end did not drag on the floor, but protruded behind her like a stiff leather tail.


    ¡°What that?¡± he ventured, as they passed into the giant building, a place he had learned was called Las Lajas.


    The girl turned to look at him with a sniff. ¡°Stop talking, or you¡¯ll find out.¡±


    But he wanted to find out, so did that mean he should keep talking? The words of these people were so confusing, Attaboy wondered how they could get along at all.


    ¡°Yes. Attaboy would like to find out.¡±


    There was a sound, a captivating sound, hushed and metallic. Attaboy fell in love with the sound in that instant, even as a three foot long, razor-sharp piece of steel was leveled at his throat.


    ¡°Does that answer your question?¡± the girl asked with a snarl. Attaboy reached to grab hold of the shining metal, but it was whisked away before his fingers got close.


    ¡°No.¡± he replied. Now he had even more questions.


    The girl sighed, and retrieved the holding part. With only a little trouble, she maneuvered the metal back into it, creating just a hint of the earlier sound.


    ¡°Come on,¡± she said. ¡°No more talking.¡±


    Doctor Quimea¡¯s place was called a ¡®laboratory¡¯, Attaboy discovered. Buried in the depths of the stone beneath Las Lajas, the room contained many large round vessels, a variety of differently sized tubes running from place to place, and several glowing square panels.


    ¡°Welcome, Attaboy.¡± The doctor said. His back was turned, and he was looking at one of the squares. Attaboy could see lines of symbols on it that reminded him of the day when he had selected the square with lines in his display. Since that day, he had seen those symbols in a number of places, and was coming to suspect that they had some kind of meaning.


    "You¡¯ve been here before, though I don¡¯t expect you remember.¡±


    Attaboy wasn¡¯t sure what to say to that.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t here at the time, of course, but I¡¯ve had a while to look at the results.¡±


    He spun around abruptly to face him.


    ¡°Attaboy, what do you want most in the world?¡±


    That was easy. He wanted to complete his quest. But he wasn¡¯t supposed to talk about it with anyone. Grabby had made him promise. There was something though¡­


    ¡°Long metal.¡± He made a gesture imitating the girl to convey his meaning.


    ¡°Oh, a sword has caught your fancy? Was Nykka showing off again?¡±


    Attaboy nodded and then shrugged.


    ¡°Well, how would you like to have a sword of your own? We can even teach you how to use it. How does that sound?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Good.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 24


    After class, Lilijoy set off through the labyrinthine halls toward the rear entrance, hoping Rosemallow would be at the pond. She hadn¡¯t gone far before she heard Skria¡¯s voice calling her name from the other end of a crowded hall. Braving the forest of moving legs, she made her way through the crowd, to find Skria perched on one of Jessila¡¯s broad shoulders.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s a good idea!¡± she called up to her friends. ¡°Is there room for one more?¡±


    She had been kidding, but before she could clarify, Jessila reached down, picked her up, and plopped her on the shoulder across from Skria.


    ¡°Hi Lily!¡± Skria chirped. ¡°We were just headed to lunch. Care to join us?¡±


    ¡°Wait. There¡¯s lunch here?¡±


    Skria nodded. ¡°Yups. It¡¯s kind of a habit for the Insiders. We don¡¯t strictly need it once we become tempered, so it¡¯s more of a social thing. Plus, the food tastes good and sometimes it has magic that raises traits for a little while.¡±


    ¡°Who makes it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Probably students working on their cooking skill.¡±


    As they talked, Jessila was making her way down the hallway, the crowds parting around her. Lilijoy noticed her hair was braided into three long plaits that ran down her back, which made her think of Mr. Sennit.


    ¡°I like your hair, Jessila. Did Skria finish it last night?¡±


    Jessila grunted.


    ¡°It took forever,¡± Skria added.


    That gave Lilijoy an idea. ¡°After lunch, we should go into town and visit my friend, Mr. Sennit. He¡¯s a master level braider.¡±


    ¡°No way!¡± Skria exclaimed. ¡°We¡¯d love to, right Jess?¡±


    Jessila grunted.


    Then Skria¡¯s face fell. ¡°Except, I have an appointment with my advisor.¡±


    ¡°The Dean?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s her. Believe me, you do not want to miss an appointment with Dean Reunification.¡±


    Lilijoy believed her.


    Skria continued. ¡°But you two should go. Jess doesn¡¯t have many classes, ¡®cause her trainer is a jerk.¡±


    Jessila grunted.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± Skria reassured her. She turned to Lilijoy and whispered over Jessila¡¯s head, which seemed a little pointless to Lilijoy, since Jessila¡¯s huge pointed ears were only inches away. ¡°She gets a little nervous when I¡¯m not around to talk to people.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be with you, Jessila,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°We¡¯re roommates, so we should take care of each other. Do you mind if we head out back first, before we go to town? I¡¯m looking for my trainer.¡±


    Jessila grunted, which Lilijoy understood to be acceptance of her request. Just in case, she glanced over at Skria, who nodded.


    Lunch was a nice way to break up the day, Lilijoy thought. The dining area was actually dozens of smaller rooms with three or four tables, and a central buffet where they could find food suited to their taste and species. The selection was eclectic and some of it was unrecognizable, but Lilijoy didn¡¯t care. She just had fun talking with Skria and trying various foods she had only read about. Almost every student eating was an Insider, as far as she could tell.


    After lunch, Skria headed off, gliding down the empty halls with a little assist from her air magic. Lilijoy and Jessila made their way out the back and down toward the pond.


    ¡°I hope she¡¯s there,¡± Lilijoy was saying, as they came to the small cliff looking over the still water. The day was hot and clear, and the cicadas were at it again, buzzing from the safety of the trees. To her relief, Rosemallow was indeed there, sitting on the muddy bank. Lilijoy thought she saw Betty and Sweetums zooming around near her feet. With Jessila by her side, she felt the need to be more formal with her teacher.


    ¡°Hi, Master Rosemallow!¡± she called.


    ¡°Hey, Three Bites. Brought a friend I see. This the one who offered to spar?¡±


    Lilijoy had almost forgotten she had mentioned that. ¡°No, that¡¯s Magpie. This is Jessila.¡±


    ¡°Well come on down here, and bring Jessila too. Jessila, careful not to step on her!¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    They joined her on the bank, and Lilijoy saw Rosemallow¡¯s third eye whirling as she looked at Jessila, who was staring at the mud by her feet. She sighed, and then grunted in surprise.


    ¡°Right¡­ okay. Huh.¡± She seemed to be having a small conversation with herself over what she was seeing. Then she took a step back. ¡°This won¡¯t do. Unacceptable!¡± Her voice rose as she spoke. Jessila seemed to shrink, hunching over and crossing her arms in front of herself.


    ¡°Well crap,¡± said Rosemallow. ¡°Jessila, when did you spend your points?¡±


    Jessila continued to study the ground. Lilijoy felt a sudden fear for her withdrawn friend. Rosemallow had never struck her as the patient type.


    ¡°Look at me girl! I asked you a question. Did you spend all your points before you got here?¡±


    Jessila grunted something that might have been a ¡®no¡¯.


    Rosemallow placed one of her huge hands under Jessila¡¯s jaw and guided her head up. From Lilijoy¡¯s vantage, it looked like an adult handling a difficult child, as Rosemallow dwarfed even Jessila¡¯s substantial size. ¡°I need you to look at me.¡± Lilijoy was surprised by her gentle tone. ¡°Someone¡¯s making a weapon out of you, and I¡¯m putting a stop to it. Who¡¯s your advisor?¡±


    ¡°M-master Spurkis,¡± Jessila stuttered.


    ¡°The rat?¡± Rosemallow said with surprise.


    Jessila nodded. Then she added, ¡°No one else would take me.¡±


    Lilijoy nearly fell over. It was the most words in a row she had heard from her roommate.


    Rosemallow swore and her eyes rose briefly to the top level of the Academy building. ¡°This is all your fault, Eskallia, she¡¯s one of mine,¡± she said under her breath. She looked down at Lilijoy. ¡°You didn¡¯t hear that.¡±


    ¡°Hear what?¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Rosemallow released Jessila¡¯s face. ¡°Damn it!¡± she said, and she took several steps away from them, before spinning around. ¡°Damn it!¡± she said again. ¡°This is the kind of crap that made me retire in the first place!¡± Two large strides brought her back into Jessila¡¯s face, or where her face would have been if she wasn¡¯t trying to bury it in her neck. ¡°Fight me,¡± she said. ¡°Take a swing, right now.¡±


    From Lilijoy¡¯s vantage, she could clearly see the alarmed expression that crossed Jessila¡¯s face. She rushed to intervene. ¡°Master Rosemallow, Jess didn¡¯t mean to make you angry--¡±


    ¡°Shut it kid. This is within us,¡± Rosemallow said, her tone impatient. "This needs to happen. Now."


    Jessila looked back at Rosemallow and a hint of defiance flashed in her eyes, before she put her hands around her head, as if to protect herself from a beating.


    ¡°Is this what you¡¯ve learned? Take a beating until you snap?¡± Rosemallow punctuated each sentence by hitting the back of one hand on her palm. ¡°And then what happens, Jessila? What happens when you snap?¡±


    Jessila mumbled something through her arms.


    ¡°Damn right people get hurt!¡± Rosemallow replied. She waded further into the water, kneeling down to put her face near Jessila¡¯s. ¡°Do you think you can hurt Rosemallow World Crusher? Do you? This isn''t a beating or a trick. You need to fight me right now. You need to mean it and you need to get angry."


    Jessila took her arms down and looked into Rosemallow¡¯s face, only inches from her own. Her blue eyes were defiant and filled with tears.


    Rosemallow had no pity. ¡°Do it or you¡¯re out! Out of the one place you are safe! No more room! No more friends!¡±


    Lilijoy watched as Jessila¡¯s expression slowly transformed. Her lips pulled back into a snarl, revealing sharp fangs in her blunt protruding jaw, her eyes narrowed and a wave of heat bloomed under her skin as her face flushed with rage. The fist that came up under Rosemallow¡¯s jaw moved so fast that Lilijoy only heard the crack of bone on bone and saw the result, as Rosemallow¡¯s entire eight foot frame was lifted out of the water and propelled back onto the muddy bank.


    ¡°Yes!¡± the Oni yelled, somehow laughing. ¡°Now that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about!¡± An evil grin crossed her face. ¡°My turn.¡±


    She lunged back into the water, calling, ¡°Defend yourself!¡± as she launched a flurry of jabs to Jessila¡¯s body. The girl did her best to block, but there was no way for her to match the Oni¡¯s speed, and Lilijoy could see hit after hit landing. Still, it was clear to her that Rosemallow wasn''t putting any force into the blows, and she began to feel that, perhaps, her trainer wasn¡¯t psychotic after all.


    Jessila took the repeated jabs for a few seconds, before she stopped trying to block and went on the offensive, swinging wildly at the cackling Rosemallow. Lilijoy could see a few blows land, sending up sprays of water off Rosemallow¡¯s soaked blue sun dress.


    She reevaluated her trainer¡¯s sanity once more, when she grabbed Jess by the hair and arm and spun around to throw her out of the pond and down the hill. Lilijoy could hear the sound of Jessila rolling and crashing through the brush and trees.


    For a moment there was silence, other than the buzz of dragonflies and the water dripping from Rosemallow¡¯s body. Her trainer looked over and gave her a little wink and raised one finger.


    Then Lilijoy heard it. Steps. Slow at first, then faster and faster, and as the rate increased the ground began to shake, and the water of the pond rippled. Jessila emerged from the small grove of trees, emerged through the small grove of trees, in an explosion of splintered wood and leaves. Her face was contorted with rage and effort, and Lilijoy could see her feet plunge into the rocky soil as if running in muddy water. But it didn''t slow her down.


    Rosemallow crouched and braced for impact. Jessila¡¯s last few steps sent up geysers of mud and water.


    They collided.


    Lilijoy caught a flash of Rosemallow folding around Jessila, her enormous arms wrapping around the girl, her legs trailing as the two flew across the waters and crashed into the cliff face. The impact caused Lilijoy to loose her footing, so she didn¡¯t see the aftermath, only a wash of mud that swept over her as the geysers returned to earth.


    She wiped the muck from her face in an attempt to see what had become of the two titans. There was a huge cloud of dust all around the cliff, so she couldn¡¯t see much, just the outline of the two forms embedded in rubble. Then she heard a sound, a great heaving sound of sobbing, and the dust cleared to reveal Rosemallow, her arms still wrapped around Jessila, gently stroking the girls back as she cried and cried.


    Some time later, after Rosemallow had somehow banished the water and mud from everyone''s clothing, they sat together on a relatively dry patch of grass near the pond.


    ¡°Did you level up?¡± Rosemallow asked.


    Jessila nodded.


    ¡°Speak, girl.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Address me as master, unless you want to go through all that again.¡±


    Lilijoy twitched a little in sympathy.


    ¡°Yes, Master Rosemallow¡± Jess mumbled.


    ¡°Good. Use those new free points to raise Charm: Sentient by two points. Quickly, no time to waste.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s jaw dropped. That was thirteen free points, as Charm: Sentient was five free points to raise for the first and eight for the second point. Coming from Rosemallow, who protected her student¡¯s free points as if they were her children, this was shocking.


    Rosemallow¡¯s third eye was spinning as she watched Jessila.


    ¡°Good! Was that difficult? And speak, girl, no grunts.¡±


    Jessila hesitated, before saying, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to do it.¡±


    ¡°Do you know why?¡±


    She shook her head.


    ¡°Because someone told you not to. Then they told you to forget.¡± Rosemallow gave Lilijoy a significant look, then turned back to Jess. ¡°Your Charm: Sentients trait was at one, so now we¡¯ve tripled it. I expect you to raise it every time you gain a level until it is at least ten. Additionally, you will join Lily in her sessions with Professor Anaskafius for the rest of the term, in order to learn how to better resist Charm attacks of all kinds. Understood?"


    "Yes, Master Rosemallow." Jessila looked up with her eyes as wide as Lilijoy had ever seen them. "Does this mean you will be training me now?"


    "Yes, of cou-" She was interrupted by Lilijoy squealing in delight. "Can it, Three Bites. As I was saying, I will be advising you now. You will meet me before sunrise, and we will start to address your pathetic K.A." She looked down at Lilijoy. "With the assistance of this tiny creature."


    Lilijoy clapped her hands, unable to restrain her excitement. "This is going to be so much fun!" Then a second thought occurred to her. "Master Rosemallow, what exactly is going on? Who has been charming Jess? Isn''t that against the rules?"


    Rosemallow frowned. "I''ve seen this before. They take a vulnerable student, get their hooks in early, and control their leveling and points, keeping them pliable while making them strong in very specific ways. For instance, I''m sure all of Jessila''s points were assigned to Power and her Ability. Maybe Invulnerability if they needed to use her more than once."


    "But isn''t that kinda what you do?" Lilijoy regretted the question as soon as it came out of her mouth.


    Instead of the explosion she was expecting from her volatile trainer, Rosemallow sighed. "I''d like to think there''s a difference. There''s no charming involved, for starters. I''m trying to help you build a foundation, the strongest possible, deep and slow. With Jessila, they didn''t care about that, just built the tallest tower possible, because they didn''t care whether it fell or not."


    "What was it she did when she ran back up here? Was that her ability?"


    "Don''t ask me," Rosemallow chided. "She''s right here in front of you."


    "Oh! I''m so sorry Jessila. I''ve just gotten used to you not talking."


    "It''s okay¡­ Lily." Jess nearly stumbled over the name, as if she was afraid she would get it wrong. "I don''t like to talk." She took a breath and forced herself to continue. "But it''s been really bad since I came here."


    "Probably part of the Charm conditioning. They wanted to keep you isolated, particularly from the teachers." Rosemallow said. "It took strong emotions and struggle to break it, and if you hadn''t leveled up from our fight, you would have ended up right back where you started."


    Jessila nodded, as if she had exhausted her capacity for words for the time being.


    "Do you mind if I explain the ability you used to Lily?" Rosemallow asked.


    Jessila nodded, then shook her head. "Sorry. It''s fine."


    Rosemallow launched into her lecture mode. "Abilities range from universal, like Scan, to common, such as Low Light Vision, all the way to completely unique abilities. Jessila''s is just short of unique, and might best be called legendary. She''s not the first to have it, but it is exceedingly rare, and she may well be the only living person to have it. It''s called Juggernaut, and it allows her to increase her mass proportional to her speed. At her tier of the ability, she probably weighs over a ton when she¡¯s running at full speed.¡±


    Lilijoy looked over at Jessila. ¡°Jess, that¡¯s amazing!¡± The corner of Jessila¡¯s mouth twitched, which was as close to a smile as Lilijoy had seen from her roommate. ¡°But Master Rosemallow, who did it? Who broke the rules?¡±


    Rosemallow shook her head. ¡°Even if I knew, I wouldn¡¯t tell you, kid. The rules are for the students, and it was no student behind this. I doubt her trainer was involved beyond taking a payoff. He would probably even pretend he was developing her strengths if he was confronted.¡±


    She sat back and rubbed her head. ¡°Best you stay out of the situation. The charm is broken, and it will be harder to re-establish. Another few levels and it will be extremely difficult for any but a master-level charmer to do more than influence her, especially once Anaskafius has helped. Lucky for Jessila, you have a decent facility with Charm, so you can keep an eye on her. Again, Ani will help with that.¡±


    Lilijoy assumed ¡®Ani¡¯ must be Professor Anaskafius. ¡°So what do we do now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll arrange things with Ani, so plan on meeting with him later today. Don¡¯t let Jessila out of your sight until then. I¡¯ve got to go and fix this mess, and change Jessila¡¯s classes, so I¡¯ll see both of you before dawn at the outdoor obstacle course. It¡¯s just past the arenas.¡±


    With that, Rosemallow left Lilijoy and Jessila on their own.


    ¡°You still want to go into town?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    Jessila grunted, then grimaced. ¡°Maybe. I need to stop running. But you don¡¯t want to be seen with me.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to remember that not only had Jessila been charmed, she was also Despised by elves, humans and orcs. She wasn¡¯t sure what that that meant in practical terms though. ¡°Will you be in danger?¡±


    ¡°Depends. Worse for you.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Reputation.¡±


    Lilijoy kept her patience. Jessila had been through a lot, probably way more than she could imagine. Plus, single words were still far better than grunts. ¡°It will hurt my reputation to be with you?¡± she asked.


    Jess nodded.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t care about that!¡± Lilijoy exclaimed. ¡°Besides, maybe it will help your reputation to be with me.¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 25: Braid

    The trip through town was certainly different from the time with Magpie.


    There was far more spitting this time, along with vile curses thrown their direction. A small gang of local children even pelted them with rotten fruit at one point. Abomination and killer were two of the least hurtful epithets that Jessila received from passing humans. At least we didn¡¯t run into any orcs or elves, Lilijoy thought.


    Through it all, Jessila remained stoic, her face utterly impassive, even when a soggy half apple hit her cheek and dripped down her front.


    ¡°How can you stand it?¡± Lilijoy whispered. She was furious with the townspeople for their behavior.


    ¡°It¡¯s just how it is,¡± was Jessila¡¯s only reply.


    As they made their way to the square, Lilijoy kept seeing notifications on her internal awareness.


    Your reputation with the human Samuel Tailor has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Elise Banridge has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Torta Rightway has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Pinto Masaplan has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Arga Masaplan has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Masaplan family has fallen to neutral.


    Your reputation with the human Jopepf Neugratz has fallen to neutral.


    ...


    She ignored them after the first twenty or so, but made a mental note to learn more about reputation when she had a chance. She looked up at Jess, who still had bits of rotten apple on her face and in her hair.


    ¡°Jess, put me on your shoulder, like before. If they want to throw anything else, they¡¯re going to have to hit me too.¡±


    Jess stopped and looked down at Lilijoy with a startled expression. Tears began to form in her big blue eyes, but she shook her head and quickened her pace instead, forcing Lilijoy to hurry after her. Soon they reached the market square, which afforded a certain degree of anonymity in the bustling crowd. Lilijoy took the lead and brought them to Mr. Sennit¡¯s little booth.


    ¡°Hey Poki!¡± he greeted her. ¡°Brought a friend, eh?¡± He looked up at Jessila and his face fell, then became carefully neutral. He gestured for Lilijoy at approach and spoke to her in a hushed voice. ¡°Your friend there is bad business. Bad for business too. Best move along for now.¡±


    ¡°But Mr. Sennit, she¡¯s actually nice!¡± Lilijoy protested. ¡°And you don¡¯t have to follow the reputation stuff anyway.¡±


    ¡°You got that right, but I got my reputation to consider too. Half my customers would take offense if I traded one copper¡¯s worth with your big friend there.¡±


    Lilijoy felt her lip quiver. It was so unfair. All she wanted was to do something nice for Jess, and Mr. Sennit too, but the stupid reputation rules were ruining everything.


    ¡°There, there, Poki. There¡¯s ways of working around all this,¡± he said, his voice gentle. ¡°But not here at the stand. If you need something from me, we can meet out back of the tanner¡¯s. Don¡¯t no one come around there.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. ¡°That would be great, Mr. Sennit. I promise you won¡¯t be sorry.¡±


    A few minutes later, Lilijoy discovered just why no one went behind the tanner¡¯s building. The stench was oppressive, and the prevailing breezes funneled all of it to where she and Jessila were waiting. Surely there must be a less smelly way to process hides in a magical computer simulation, she thought to herself. She set aside the quirks of the Inside world when Mr. Sennit approached.


    ¡°Okay, Poki. What¡¯s the news?¡± he said.


    ¡°First of all, Mr. Sennit, this is Jessila. She¡¯s my roommate, and she doesn¡¯t deserve that horrible reputation.¡±


    Lilijoy realized that she had no idea how Jessila had gotten into her predicament, but she was sure she didn¡¯t deserve it.


    ¡°I brought her to you, because she has amazing long hair, and I thought you could braid it for her.¡± Mr. Sennit looked skeptical, but she pressed on. ¡°Even more important, I was learning about crafting at the Academy, and I thought of you, because no one ever taught you how to really use the Magi part of your skill. I bet you could make a ton more money selling your crafts if they had magic in them.¡±


    Mr. Sennit chuckled. ¡°You think I can magic up a straw hat for some warrior? Maybe make a magic floor mat?¡± He looked at her kindly. ¡°I¡¯ll hear you out, but I won¡¯t bet I¡¯ll be rolling in silver anytime soon.¡± He looked at Jessila. ¡°Miss Jessila, I feel bad for you, really I do, but I can¡¯t take money from you, even where no one can see.¡±


    Jessila shrugged, and Lilijoy jumped in. ¡°But you can take money from me, right? I¡¯ll pay for it.¡± She poked Jessila¡¯s hip with a finger before her friend could refuse. ¡°After all, you don¡¯t need to know if Jess ever paid me back, right?¡±


    Mr. Sennit considered her proposal. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t see any harm coming from it.¡± He turned to Jessila. ¡°Have a seat on the ground, Miss, and I¡¯ll see what I¡¯m working with. I¡¯m no hairdresser, mind you, so don¡¯t expect too much.¡±


    While he worked, Lilijoy explained what she had learned. After she gave an overview, Mr. Sennit said, ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is I can do more with the magic than speed things up or make em last longer. Huh. You know, those folks from the clan told me that was all there was, for my skills anyway, and I hadn¡¯t given it much thought since I finally struck out on my own.¡± At this point, he had brushed out Jess¡¯s hair with her comb, and gotten most of the remaining bits of rotten apple out of it. ¡°Any ideas on what else to try?¡± he added.


    ¡°Do you want to try something now?¡± Lilijoy asked, ignoring Jessila¡¯s worried expression.


    ¡°Sure, sure. But what would I do with a hair braid?¡±


    Lilijoy pondered for a moment. Then inspiration struck. ¡°What if you made it so no one can grab her braids? Our trainer threw her off a hill today by her hair. You could think about making it slippery, or sharp, or something like that.¡±


    He looked concerned. "Uh, Poki, you sure about this trainer?"


    She''s better than Pinton. And Mr. Spurkis, evidently. "She''s pretty crazy, but she means well. It''s only been a few weeks, and she has a great reputation. It''s not like I can''t log out if I need to"


    ¡°That sounds all right then. Getting back to this Magi thing.¡± His face took on an expression of concentration. ¡°How would I even start?¡±


    ¡°What do you do when you use your mana to go faster, or make something more durable?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t really say. Just think about it, and my hands get to tingling, and it all works out.¡±


    This was harder than Lilijoy had expected. She envisioned colored energy moving around her body, and so far, that had worked well for her. Mr. Sennit seemed to be more tactile by nature, and she wasn¡¯t sure if her method would work for him. He also seemed reluctant about the whole endeavor, and she was worried that he might give up if he didn¡¯t see results right away.


    ¡°Try to feel the tingling in your body first, like there¡¯s a big ball of tingles in your stomach.¡±


    He looked at her skeptically, then shrugged. ¡°What the heck, why not?¡± he mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes while Lilijoy watched, and Jess stared resolutely at the back of the tannery. After about thirty seconds, he giggled. Then he laughed and opened his eyes.


    ¡°I think you might have got something here, Poki!¡± he managed between chuckles. ¡°It kinda tickles though. Don¡¯t know how I never noticed the feeling before this.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°What¡¯s it feel like?¡±


    ¡°A big bunch of tingles, like you said. A little hot too, like I ate too much and it¡¯s coming back for a little visit, only nice.¡±


    ¡°I bet that¡¯s your mana center,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Now try pulling the tingles from there and into your hands, and then kind of weave them into Jess¡¯s hair.¡±


    He closed his eyes again and took hold of the long bundles brown and golden hair he had separated. He started to braid, and then stopped with a gasp.


    ¡°Holy¡­ it just sucked it right in, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    He gathered his focus again, and his face took on a relaxed, open expression as he resumed Hand Weaving. Lilijoy thought she could see a golden glow move between his hands and Jess¡¯s hair, especial her lighter locks. Mr. Sennit kept making small comments to himself.


    ¡°Nope. Don¡¯t make no sense to do that. Gotta try something¡­ yup. Oh yeah, it likes that. Now we¡¯re happy!¡±


    He began to hum to himself as he braided the strands together, and then braided the braids, and then convinced the resulting, larger braids to sit on and around Jess¡¯s head. When he finally put his hands down, he let out a long breath.


    ¡°Now that was something!¡± he announced. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I need food or sleep more now.¡±


    Lilijoy was burning with curiosity. The hair coiled on top of Jessila¡¯s head gleamed in the sun, almost as if the pleats were facets of a gem.


    ¡°What did you do? Did it work?¡±


    ¡°Now Poki, don¡¯t be disappointed. That stuff you suggested sounded good, but the hair seemed to have its own notions. I guess it didn¡¯t want no truck with being slippery. And who ever heard of sharp hair anyhow?¡± He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Nope, but we came to an agreement. Why don¡¯t you take a good close look and see what you can see?¡±


    Lilijoy did as he asked. At first, it just looked like the most perfect hairdo she had ever seen, with the coiled braids sending smaller braids and even cascades of free hair over Jessila¡¯s ears and neck. Then she thought to use her Scan ability.


    <hr>


    Braids of the Valkyrie


    Woven by a master, these braids will raise INV by 10 and provide


    10 points of additional protection against all magical damage.


    Effect lasts two weeks


    <hr>


    ¡°I knew you could do it!¡± Lilijoy exclaimed as she gave Mr. Sennit a hug. ¡°It¡¯s amazing! Jessila, did you see what he did?¡±


    Jessila tried to keep her stoic expression and failed, allowing a true smile to emerge. ¡°I can¡¯t see what it looks like, but I got a notification of what it does,¡± she said. She turned to face Mr. Sennit and bowed her head, which had the amazing effect of casting reflected light from her hair onto him.


    ¡°Honor to the Master,¡± she stated.


    ¡°Now Miss, it seems you should be thanking your friend and not these old bones.¡±


    Jessila stayed as she was, and Lilijoy make urgent hand gestures to Mr. Sennit.


    ¡°Oh, all right Poki,¡± he said. ¡°The pleasure was mine, Miss Jessila. Now you try to stay out of trouble, you hear? Maybe I can find a way to help your reputation some, now that I got real magic.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Sennit,¡± Lilijoy said with a hint of exasperation. ¡°You always had the magic. You just had to know where to look.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, maybe,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°But it¡¯s thanks to you that I found it.¡± He bowed his head to Lilijoy. ¡°Honor to the Master Teacher,¡± he said, imitating Jessila.


    Now it was Lilijoy¡¯s turn to fumble for a response. It didn¡¯t help that a new notification crossed her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    Skill Earned: Natural Initiate of Teaching


    You have a chance of imparting your skills


    and abilities to students with sufficient aptitude.


    Higher levels of expertise in the skill/ability and


    in the teaching skill will make this more likely.


    <hr>


    ¡°I just got the Teaching skill!¡±


    Mr. Sennit looked up and winked at her. ¡°Thought I¡¯d see if I could give you that, after what you done for me. Now I best be getting back to my stand. Don¡¯t be a stranger, ok?¡±


    He said his goodbyes, refused to take any of Lilijoy¡¯s coins, and walked back toward the square. Before he had gotten very far, he turned back and yelled, ¡°Practice your Hand Weaving, Poki, and next time, I show you how to do her hair like that!¡±


    Lilijoy turned to Jessila, who retained a stunned half smile on her broad face. The tips of her large canine teeth were just peeking out from her lips.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not go back through the town. I think we¡¯ve both had enough rotten fruit thrown our way, and I don¡¯t want to lose this feeling.¡±


    Jessila nodded. ¡°Thank you, Lily,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to tell Skria about this.¡±


    With one more stop on their schedule, they made their way to Professor Anaskafius¡¯ office. Since Jess was far too large for the cozy little den off of the main room, they sat on various levels of the stone platforms, while the Professor worked with Jessila to teach her the Manipulation and Deception skills, and taught her how to recognize and resist Charm attempts.


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± he tut-tutted. ¡°You poor thing. I can almost read your story from your character sheet. Do you mind if Lily takes a look?¡±


    Jess gave her assent, and showed Lilijoy her sheet.


    <hr>


    Name: Jessila Tewl Level: 8


    Race: Orkurs/Human/Elf


    Tier 6: Academy Eligible


    Achievements:


    Tempered


    Natural Disaster: Destroyed 20 or more structures


    with physical force within 10 minutes


    Accomplishments:


    Despised: Status of Hated or lower from three cultural groups or species


    HP: 225


    Natural Traits


    STR: 115


    END: 80


    SPD: 54


    KA: 30


    Magical Traits


    POW: 45


    INV: 21


    VIT: 55


    FLASH: 15


    CHARM: SENTIENT: 3


    CHARM: ANIMAL: 31


    CHARM: PLANT: 17


    Elemental Affinities


    Fire: 14% (Tier IV)


    Earth: 62% (Tier II)


    Water: 20 % (Tier IV)


    Air: 10 % (Tier IV)


    (Tier IV 0-29%, Tier III 30-54%, Tier II 55-79%, Tier I 80%+)


    Mana Well: 80


    Mana Gathering: 3 %/100 seconds


    Abilities


    Scan I


    Low Light Vision I


    Juggernaut III: Mass multiplies with linear speed


    Skills


    Unarmed Combat: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Weapons (Blunt): Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Swimming: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Farming: Natural Apprentice (VP = 3)


    Construction: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    Leather Working: Natural Initiate (VP = 2)


    <hr>


    Lilijoy saw what Professor Anaskafius meant. The skills, the Animal Charm, it all pointed to a rural life, perhaps on a village farm. She could almost see the Natural Disaster accomplishment unfolding, Jessila teased or abused to the point of breaking and running amok with her powerful Juggernaut ability through her town, knocking down walls and buildings.


    She wondered if she would ever hear the real story.


    Watching Manipulation being taught was fascinating and made Lilijoy wonder why she had such an intuitive grasp of the skill. Jessila initially didn¡¯t have a grasp of basic concepts like reverse psychology, and even lying itself was confusing to her.


    ¡°Why would anyone say something if it wasn¡¯t real?¡± she complained at one point.


    Professor Anaskafius had smiled, though his little eyes were sad. ¡°Many children learn early on that they can avoid punishment by pretending innocence. Perhaps they broke something valuable when they were playing somewhere they weren¡¯t supposed to be. They might tell an adult that they were somewhere else, perhaps playing outside, rather than in their father¡¯s study.¡±


    Lilijoy could tell it was going to be a long road before Jessila learned enough to gain the skills she needed.


    How sad, she thought, that she needs to learn how to lie and deceive just to protect herself.


    What did it say about her, that such things had come so easily? Or perhaps it said more about Jessila¡¯s childhood, that she had never learned them in the first place. Lilijoy had grown up with a group of adults who were fairly predictable in their behaviors, odd as they were. Perhaps she had learned to take advantage of that early on, without ever realizing what she was doing.


    ¡°Professor, does everyone end up with the Manipulation and Deception skills?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The short answer is yes, my dear¡± he said, fiddling with his glasses. ¡°They exist in all self aware beings to some degree. They may not show up on a character sheet, unless they are used deliberately over time. Thankfully, everyone has some innate resistance to Charm, or problems such as Jessila¡¯s would be much more common. It is the truly innocent who are in the most danger. An empty vessel is the easiest to fill.¡±


    On that note, the lesson finished, and they made their way out of the office. There, they parted ways. Jessila was eager to find Skria to show off her hair, and Lilijoy wanted to attend the last Subtle Arts class of the day.


    The class was a fruitful one for Lilijoy. She used her strategy of helping the clumsy students to draw in her competitors, and was able to plant one of her two remaining patches on one of them. Not only did she get eight additional points at the end of class, for a total of twenty-three, but her Stealth skill went up to Apprentice. She resolved to only plant patches on her true prey, fellow predators. Because of this, she never found an opportunity for her last patch.


    At the end of the class, a leader board appeared in the room of the four paths, confusing the students who were still working on their silent movement. There were no names on the board, onlythe scores, and Lilijoy was pleased to see that she wasn¡¯t far from the lead. The top score was thirty-one, and her total placed her in third. There were ten scores on the board, and she couldn¡¯t tell if that was everyone who was competing, or just the ten best. Her guess was that it was the top ten, as the lowest score on the board was thirteen.


    As she stood looking at the scores, she rubbed Nandi¡¯s boon with the middle fingers of her right hand, feeling the hard surface of the material embedded in her palm. It was becoming a habit of hers, something she did while she thought about her future. It was becoming all too easy to lose herself in her daily activities. She was a little jealous of the other students sometimes. For them the Subtle Arts contest might be the center of the universe. Or maybe they spent their energy making connections with other students, or training to compete in some tournament that wouldn¡¯t matter even a year from now.


    She wished her world could be that small.

 Book 2: Ch. 26: Averdale

    Interlude: Attaboy


    Attaboy had a sword.


    He didn¡¯t care that it was made from wood, and not as long as the girl person Nykka¡¯s metal blade. He just loved the way it felt in his hand. The way it made him feel to swing it through the air.


    All he had needed to do was tell Doctor Quimea about his pictures. He figured that as long as he didn¡¯t talk about the star, and his quest, it would be okay. Doctor Quimea had been very interested to hear about the eye, and the other eyecons. That was the new word Attaboy had learned, the word for his pictures.


    He had also learned about letters and writing. It felt good to know that he was right about the shapes that seemed to be everywhere, now that he knew to look. They did mean things.


    Unfortunately, what they meant earlier today was endless tedium, after Doctor Quimea insisted that he select the box with the lines and then describe each and every shape and line to him. After the first few minutes, Attaboy had started to learn the names of the different shapes, as the Doctor kept muttering them under his breath. By the end of the session he had figured out that the shapes indicated the sounds that made up spoken words.


    Once he understood that, many things became clear. On the way back to his room, he turned them over in his mind, played with them and combined them in different ways. His guide, a tall, boring person with no sword, had given him several strange looks as he put together new strings of the shapes and tried to figure out how they would sound, speaking under his breath.


    And now he was back in his room. The sword had been waiting for him, just like Doctor Quimea had promised.


    ¡°Attaboy.¡±


    Dijiann¡¯s voice entered his mind.


    ¡°We urgently need to cultivate.¡±


    ¡°Do it then.¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°Your agency is required. I know you understand that.¡±


    Attaboy swiped the sword through the air.


    Dijiann tried again. ¡°The Stage One bots are dying off. Soon, you will lose access to other sensory abilities.¡±


    ¡°Doctor Quimea said not to worry about that. He said his system is even better.¡±


    ¡°Unlikely. Our system interfaced with theirs when they performed invasive procedures. It is based on an earlier generation of technology, and additionally limited by design. Please be very careful what you share with external entities.¡±


    Attaboy sighed. ¡°You use too many words. I don¡¯t like how it feels.¡±


    He didn¡¯t like the way the unfamiliar words pushed their way into his head. It was strange to know something without knowing how he knew it.


    ¡°Growth is not always comfortable. If you want to succeed in your quest you will need to improve yourself, whether it feels good or not.¡±


    That made sense. A memory of Pinton screaming, ¡°No pain, no gain, maggots!¡± crossed his mind and he shuddered a little. A feeling of aching loneliness passed over him. He knew it was wrong to talk to Doctor Quimea about his system, but he just¡­


    Lilijoy would know what to do.


    He missed her terribly. She was always the one who bounced back, who picked him up. She was the one who could distract him from the rage he felt toward Pinton and the other Bros. He looked at his wrist for about the thousandth time, at the gift she had made for him. The first gift he had ever received. Then he looked at the sword in his other hand.


    He made his decision.


    <hr>


    Chapter 26: Averdale


    The rest of the week flew by. Lilijoy joined Jessila in early morning movement training with Rosemallow, starting with something that resembled Tai Chi and ending with Jessila chasing Lilijoy around the outdoor obstacle course in a low gravity field that Rosemallow established.


    She could see the value of the training immediately, as the change in gravity forced both of them to be very conscious of every movement. Whenever they adapted, Rosemallow changed it again, and by the end of the week, the gravity over the obstacle course was fluctuating wildly while Lilijoy dodged and weaved around Jessila¡¯s attempts to capture her.


    Never one to make life easy, Rosemallow devised a number of further torments to the basic exercise. Once, Lilijoy and Jessila were connected by ten feet of rope, which was the first time Lilijoy was caught. Often, Lilijoy was forced to carry weights to even things up, or Jessila was blindfolded. Initially, Rosemallow had blindfolded Lilijoy as well, but had given up on the idea when it had absolutely no effect on her.


    It was a fun way to start the day, even as early as it was. Jessila improved greatly, thanks not only to the morning training, but also the beginning acrobatics and dance classes Rosemallow had her taking. By the end of the week her Kinesthetic Awareness had risen three points, to thirty-three. At first, Lilijoy had wondered why Rosemallow was so focused on raising the trait, as thirty points in KA was well above average for humans, but she had learned that for elves a KA of seventy was normal, and a score of forty or fifty was common for Orcs.


    I guess on average, humans are pretty clumsy compared to the other races, she noted.


    It was no surprise that her own freakishly high KA didn¡¯t change, but all the running and dodging did earn her another point for both Endurance and Strength.


    After stats training came combat skills and stealth. Sparring with Jessila was amazingly helpful, and Lilijoy raised her skill with the club and short blades to apprentice level, and improved her unarmed combat too, though it hadn¡¯t progressed to the next level. According to Rosemallow, the first three tiers, Novice, Initiate and Apprentice, usually went pretty fast, but the transition to Journeyman typically took months, and Expert took years. Lilijoy was pretty sure that her system¡¯s augmentation of her brain and its ability to harvest knowledge seamlessly would let her advance sooner than that.


    The competition in Subtle Arts heated up as more and more students joined. What changed it most of all was the growing awareness on the part of the unseeing students that they were participants in a game for which they did not know the rules. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for them to spin around randomly in an attempt to catch someone who might be trying to plant a patch. Many of them trusted Lilijoy though, as she was helpful, and hadn¡¯t planted any patches on them after the first class.


    From them, she discovered that there was a separate competition to catch as many stealthers as possible, with the reward being one-on-one training in the Low Light Vision ability. She had learned that the best time to plant a patch on a competitor was just after they were caught in the act by an unseeing student, and had even conspired to warn them when they were being targeted, so she could take advantage of the ensuing mayhem.


    It felt a bit like cheating, but also felt entirely in keeping with the spirit of subterfuge the game encouraged. By the end of the week, she had taken the lead with one hundred and three points, though her closest competition was hot on her heels with ninety-nine and ninety seven points respectively. She felt pretty good about it, but wondered how much was due to her small size making it extremely difficult for anyone to hit her with the eight point penalty.


    She was particularly proud that she had taught Echolocation twice. Almost every class session had a student or two gain the Low Light Vision ability, so she couldn¡¯t tell if she contributed to that or not, but she was pretty sure that she was responsible for those who learned to echolocate.


    She was worried at first that Echolocation was inferior to Low Light Vision especially since the students were using tongue clicks, which was hardly the stealthiest way of maneuvering in the dark, but the unseen instructor assured her that gaining Echolocation would hasten their ability to see in the dark, rather than impede it. He seemed rather bemused by the whole thing, but did nothing to discourage her efforts to assist the other students.


    After lunch with Skria and Jess, which had become part of her routine, she and Jess would head up to meet with Professor Anaskafius, where she would work on her Charm and practice communing with her burnbalm plant, while Jess suffered through another session of learning about human foibles, cognitive biases that could be exploited and the like. By the end of the week, Jess finally received the skills of Mental Manipulation and Mental Deception, both at Natural Novice.


    ¡°It won¡¯t make any difference until she brings Manipulation up to Initiate,¡± explained Anaskavius, ¡°But at least we have a foundation established.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    As a reward, he and Lilijoy taught Jess how to use her substantial Charm: Animals trait on the rats Lilijoy had been working with all week.


    ¡°Farming is actually a wonderful skill for charming domesticated plants and animals, and it tends to work well with common pests too,¡± he said. ¡°Such as our good friends here, who happen to be both domesticated and pests.¡±


    Soon Jessila had the rats climbing around on her cowhide garments and doing her bidding, though she drew the line when one tried to climb into her hair. The last few days had seen Jessila smiling more and grunting less, and her hair had caught the attention of many at the school. When asked about it, she just smiled and referred them to Lilijoy, who in turn referred them to Mr. Sennit. He must have been doing well, as soon Jessila was not the only student with intricately braided hair, though none of the others had magical effects that were as powerful. Lilijoy just hoped he was charging enough.


    After that, Lilijoy would meet for planning sessions with Magpie. The most exciting development of the week, by far, had been Magpie¡¯s decision to help her find out where Attaboy was being held. Whenever possible, they met in the mystic library, an area of the Academy previously unfamiliar to Lilijoy.


    ¡°What¡¯s so mystic about it?¡± she asked Magpie when they first entered through the unassuming single door.


    Magpie had chuckled. ¡°You just need to experience it.¡±


    They entered a simple stone room with an octagonal wooden table. There were two chairs on either side. There was a conspicuous absence of books.


    ¡°Do we¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Just have a seat and put your hands on the table.¡±


    When they were both seated, smoke billowed out of the table surface, and Lilijoy let out a yelp of surprise.


    ¡°You should have seen me the first time,¡± Magpie said. ¡°I thought it was a gas attack and ran out of the room.¡±


    As she finished speaking, glowing words rippled through the smoke.


    Pay the Price for Knowledge.


    Well that¡¯s ominous.


    The words continued.


    Time or Experience?


    ¡°Umm, Magpie? What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just being dramatic. Time means that we read the old fashioned way. Experience means that we can, well, experience certain events or gain certain kinds of firsthand knowledge, but any experience points we would have gained go to the library. That¡¯s the way we want to go. It¡¯s kind of like watching movies from inside a person¡¯s head. I¡¯ve heard at higher access levels, you can contribute your own experiences in trade for really useful stuff, like spells and skills.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s...¡± Lilijoy¡¯s mind was spinning in circles. It sounded like her experience with Emily¡¯s memories. There were many more questions she wanted to ask, but she didn¡¯t want to reveal too much to Magpie about her system. ¡°...really cool. What should we do first?¡±


    ¡°Library, show us the Sacking of Averdale.¡±


    ***


    She/He was Elatan Thuidium, walking on the Bough of Burdens. The moss and small plants were cool to his feet, the morning dew sparkled from the webs of the yssali in the few beams of sun that permeated into green deep. He drew a breath and felt his connection to the Greatwood beneath his feet.


    Voices from trunkward broke the peace. Noisy Outsiders.


    Why do we allow them here?


    Still, it was not up to him to decide who was or wasn¡¯t allowed onto the lowest level of the Greatwood. They had a good reputation with the untempered, and the council acted accordingly.


    If only the King would rule against them, we could finally have some peace.


    He adjusted his bow where it lay on his shoulder and resumed his patrol. The Outsiders were thick lately, drawn to the Greatwood for some clan gathering. Why they had to have it here and not in some stinking, noisy human kingdom was beyond him. Still, it was the Bough of Burdens, and such was the lot of those consigned to spend their time so close to the ground.


    ¡°Ho the Elf,¡± an Outsider called. His companion giggled and elbowed him. They looked young to Elatan, though he could never tell with humans, who grew ancient so quickly.


    Mayflies. He stared at them, reluctant to grace them with his voice.


    ¡°Anywhere to get a drink around here?¡±


    Disgusting. He ignored them and moved to continue his rounds.


    ¡°Yo, Elfie. Don¡¯t be like that. It gets boring up here. What do you guys do for fun, you know?¡±


    He ignored them and continued. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one take out a small book and make a mark.


    Curious.


    They were already accosting another of his kind as he left them behind. He thought he heard the word, reputation pass between them. He pivoted and marched back with purpose.


    ¡°Humans, cease your bothersome behavior.¡±


    The elf maid they had started to bother scampered off, an empty basket on her arm. She was untempered, and had no context for what these Outsider humans could do. Another human emerged from the nearby hostel. Small and hairless, to Elatan he looked halfway to death¡¯s door .


    ¡°I apologize, noble sir,¡± the human said. His robes were plain, but he carried himself with authority. ¡°These boys are new to your gracious abode. I will teach them more respect.¡±


    The man bowed, and held his head down until Elatan was appeased.


    ¡°You know our ways. Be so kind as to convey them to your young.¡±


    ¡°I will. If you will allow it, I will convey a gift of apology to the gathering maid who just passed from our presence.¡±


    Elatan nodded. This one knew the proper forms and conventions. ¡°Let it be so. What clan is it that you represent?¡±


    ¡°Sinaloa,¡± the man replied.


    ***


    The fog swirled, and Lilijoy was no longer Elatan. Before she could say a word to Magpie, she was drawn back in. She was Carodil Everbough, member of the elven council.


    ¡°The untempered are clamoring for his ascension. We have no choice,¡± said the grey clad elf to her right in the circle. ¡°If we do not accede to their requests, our reputation will be brought low and we will lose our authority in those decisions that matter.¡±


    ¡°Where is the King in all this?¡± asked a golden haired elder. ¡°Surely any decision allowing a human access to the upper boughs should go through him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just one human.¡± said another. ¡°To hear the untempered talk, he is a saint under the sky. What harm can come? Surely, we must put our prejudice aside.¡±


    ¡°All the leaves on a tree are the same. We should not be deceived.¡± The elven woman cast her eyes down.


    She found herself speaking.


    ¡°Where one comes, surely others will follow. But we must consider this opportunity to influence them. If we nurture and strengthen those with the correct behaviors, those traits will spread more widely.¡±


    There were nods around the circle, though not all were convinced.


    ¡°We will bring this human before us, this Alfonso Quimea and see him for ourselves.¡± said the council leader. ¡°Perhaps then the correct decision will be clear.¡±


    ***


    The fog came again and she was Zeritha Lanadat, looking over the Averdale Forest from the highest post on the Greatwood. Birds circled below her in the evening air, and the sparse clouds draped their vapors lazily below her feet. The sounds of horns and jubilation trickled up from the distant lower boughs, where untempered elves and energetic humans joined to celebrate the ascension of Elf-Friend Alfonso Quimea.


    Soon the King will wish to meet this human.


    The tension among the tempered was palpable. There was a loss of balance in Averdale, with too many humans in the forest and on the Bough of Burdens. Now, a human was even allowed to ascend to the higher Boughs of Life and Peace. She sighed.


    The King, though wise beyond her understanding, had no context for these new humans, these Outsiders. They were the tiniest flicker of a long burning torch to him.


    It was her duty to protect the royal family. They were powerful beings, even in the reduced essence of the Garden, but they cultivated peace, serenity and unity. She was from the lineage of the Protector of the Young, and she understood what a mother feels when her children are threatened, the burning desire to destroy that which invades a loving home.


    I will counsel the King to send this Sinaloa clan out of Avendale. They take advantage of the predictability of the untempered.


    Reports had trickled up the trunk of the humans noting who was tempered and who was not, taking advantage of small quests and manufactured perils to gain reputation. She grimaced as she thought of the word.


    Reputation. What possible reason does the Great Mind have for such a thing?


    She cast the unworthy thought from her mind. Reputation made the tempered answerable to the great mass of the those who had not fulfilled their potential. Each one of them was a sacred seed, innocent reflections of the Great Mind. She herself had been witness to the emergence of new awareness on several occasions, of the line becoming the circle.


    She thought back to her own tempering, and the hazy time before. Any one of her people celebrating with the humans far below could some day join with her, could become an active participant in the dance of the Great Mind. Maybe they all could, for they had thousands of years still to live.


    ***


    Lilijoy passed from the mind of Zeritha, and when the fog took her again it swirled violently, tinged with red. Now the scenes and images passed through her mind rapidly, some too quick to grasp.


    She was Carodil again, and Quimea was greeting the council for a second time, now with two of his associates. He laughed at something a council member had just proposed. He spoke.


    ¡°It is time.¡±


    And she realized he was speaking into a stone, not to the council. The next moment, she was on the floor of the council chamber and all the air was sucked out of the room, or perhaps her lungs had burst, and though her ears no longer functioned, she saw his words, saw his lips move.


    ¡°This is a declaration of war.¡±


    And then she/he was Eletan on the Bough of Burdens, when the first of the explosions ripped through the homes of the untempered, and he started running to save those he could reach when the next explosion went off, and the next and the next, and all was fire and screaming, and as his body burned and he knew he was being taken to respawn, he heard the thunder that put all previous explosions to shame, and felt the wave of air that pressed what was left of him into the Bough.


    And then she was Zeritha, in the highest reaches of the Greatwood, when the sounds of destruction started and the fires bloomed in the night below, and even as she whistled for her flight companion, the wood beneath her shook in a way she had never felt, and the sound and the wind rushed up at her. She felt the extended, ripping crack in her very bones as the vast trunk far below her ruptured and the clouds approached, or rather the Greatwood itself was falling, tilting into the forest below. She could only look on in horror as her new horizon became the ground and she could see fires and dark forms pouring out of the surrounding woods.


    She almost resigned herself to respawn, but she knew it would take her far from the fight, perhaps too far to return in time, and instead a fiery rage welled up, and she expanded, pushing against the thin essence of the Garden to grab the fires all around and turn them upon the humans. The flames that covered her held her in the air as wings, and she flew down to wreak vengeance upon the enemy.


    And finally she was Carodil once more gasping for air that would not come, lying at the feet of Alfonso Quimea.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you lived,¡± he said. ¡°I need to pass a message to the royal family. Averdale belongs to Sinaloa Clan now. There is nothing for you here anymore.¡±


    ***


    The fog released her.


    Broken-hearted and ashamed.


    ¡°That was... something,¡± said Magpie. ¡°little intense, huh?¡±


    Lilijoy hunted for words. The anger hit her, even as many of the details faded from her mind. Her hands shook.


    Jiannu, I need to think straight.


    There was no reply. Of course there was no reply.


    ¡°I know a bit about what happened after.¡± Magpie ventured into the silence.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Why did they do it? I can only guess-¡±


    ¡°Why did you show me this?¡± Lilijoy¡¯s voice broke a little.


    ¡°Because that¡¯s where we¡¯re going. We¡¯re going to Averdale."

 Supplemental: Corporate Clan

    Commentaries on the Clans


    The internal cultures of the clans are as varied as their origins. Walden Clan was developed by the heirs to the powerful Walstore corporation, who in the decades leading to the tribulation held five of the top twenty rankings of wealth worldwide. Pooling their resources allowed for the purchase and development of numerous enclaves in habitable areas, and the mercenary forces, many derived from former militaries of collapsed European governments, to protect them. Among the last of the organized entities to adopt the ¡®Clan¡¯ nomenclature, their culture is still heavily influenced by their corporate roots. This can be seen in the internal document below.


    <hr>


    Memorandum


    DATE: December 21, 121


    TO: Walden Clan Teachers and Childcare providers


    FROM: Noah Walden, President and CEO


    SUBJECT: Inside Trial Preparation Etc.


    It has come to my attention that there is a conflict on the proper implementation of Walden Clan Policies re. Preparation of Clan Children for Their Trials.


    As you are well aware, this is a subject of considerable importance to the future of our Clan. Any deviation from the previously stated policies will be be referred to the corrections committee. Having said that, it has become clear that our policies are subject to a variety of interpretations. Please read this Memorandum of Understanding wherein the previous policy is stated, with additional notes for clarification.


    1. No child is to be told of any matter pertaining to the Trial or the Inside, by any means verbal, electronic or otherwise, with the following stated exceptions.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Immediately before the Trial, those children who have been placed in the ¡®Exceptional'' category will be directed to the ¡°Middle Wooden Door with a Flower upon it.¡± All others will be directed to the ¡°Metal Door¡±. Please use these exact words, as they have proved to provide consistent results.


    </li>


    <li>


    Also immediately before the Trial, the child should be told, ¡°Do not speak to the Gatekeeper, who will appear as a large cow. Bow your head and wait for the gate to open.¡± Please use these exact words, as they have proved to provide consistent results.


    </li>


    <li>


    Encouragement: The following words of encouragement should be offered at regular intervals as the Trial Date approaches:


    <ul>


    <li>


    ¡°I believe in you. We all believe in you.¡±


    </li>


    <li>


    ¡°With the support of your Clan, you will always do your best.¡±


    </li>


    <li>


    ¡°If you are suffering, just think of how much you will contribute in the future.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    </li>


    <li>


    Exceptional only: ¡°With your obvious potential, someday you will have a high position.¡±


    </li>


    <li>


    All non-Exceptional: ¡°With your hidden potential, someday you will have a high position.


    </li>


    <li>


    IMPORTANT: While it is possible that unique situations will arise, all other words of encouragement must be approved by your supervisor.


    </li>


    <li>


    IMPORTANT: Do not encourage students ¡°Not to Die¡± or words to that effect. It has been statistically determined that students seeking to avoid death in the Trial will die on average 9% more often.


    </li>


    </ul>


    Note: To be absolutely clear, no teacher is to deviate, add or subtract from this script in any way, regardless of their personal past experiences. All of the above scripts have been extensively vetted over multiple generations and been determined to produce good results in the majority of participants.


    </li>


    </ul>


    2. Appropriate Preparation to Maximize Performance.


    <ul>


    <li>


    All children will be assessed annually and classified based on aptitude and ability. (see Tracks and Ratings)


    </li>


    <li>


    Preparation vs. Experience Cost: It has been generally found that intensive skill preparation results in students with excellent Trial results. However, subsequent experience growth is hampered. The best balance has been determined to be a skill preparation level equivalent to Apprentice in no more than five core skills (determined by track).


    </li>


    <li>


    Internal Database Supplementation: Similarly, Internal Database System Supplementation has mixed results. Appropriate Databases have been prepared for each track. These Databases are to be loaded into the student¡¯s Systems no earlier than two days before the intended Trial Date.


    </li>


    </ul>


    NOTE: There has been debate over whether Walden Clan should avoid the Academy altogether in order to provide a more efficient and focused educational experience. Current Clan policy, taking into account the following factors, is to maintain our past position.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Avoiding isolation: Future Clan growth and stability relies on maintaining and nurturing alliances and relationships with powerful clans and individuals. These relationships are best formed in an environment of neutrality, such as the Academy provides.


    </li>


    <li>


    Development of Clan Status: It is vital for the projection of Clan power that our youngest generation is seen and compared to that of other clans.


    </li>


    <li>


    Exposure to Inside cultures and relations with tempered subsets: It has been determined that the Academy environment provides an excellent introduction to a great variety of Artificial Intelligences. It has been deemed essential that Clan children encounter these AI minds (tempered subsets), even as the Clan provides proper context and education for their behaviors. (see Parallel Training and Supervision Policy)


    </li>


    <li>


    Access to the ¡®Mystic Library¡¯.


    </li>


    <li>


    Relationships with Level Five Subsets. The Academy remains the only consistent venue to research suspected higher level subsets. Understanding higher level subsets has been deemed a top research priority to advance Clan actions. Allowances for Walden Clan Members to return to the Academy as teachers on Outside subjects are contingent on continued attendance.


    </li>


    <li>


    Cost/Benefit: It is important to contextualize student¡¯s growth at the Academy. While it is certain that our training and development methods are superior to the inefficient and often mercurial guidance of the subsets, the cost in student growth is ameliorated by the above points. Our ability to guide student¡¯s growth post-Academy (approximately levels 20 and above) is able to address any deficiencies inculcated by Academy trainers. The hidden cost of losing leveling opportunities in the Trial is partly mitigated by the Trial bonuses themselves.


    </li>


    </ul>


    3. Trial Timing: The average Trial lasts from 48 to 72 hours. Teachers will schedule Trial Dates in synchrony with the Inside Academy Schedule, exactly four days before a class term begins.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Additionally, Exceptional students will be scheduled two class terms before the appropriate tournaments.


    </li>


    </ul>


    WE ARE POWER. WE ARE WALDEN.


    <hr>

 Book 2: Ch. 27: Plan

    Chapter 27:


    Eventually, after witnessing scenes that felt more traumatic to her than any injury, Lilijoy had snapped back to her usual self. Once she did, they began to plan.


    The beautiful thing about Magpie¡¯s idea was that they could do it from the Inside. All the major clans had extensive holdings Inside, territories they controlled where they ran their Outside organizations, harvested ingredients for their alchemists, and generally lived like kings. It was very common for clans to settle disagreements from the Outside through turf wars and assassination campaigns Inside, and even more common for such disputes to arise from clashes over limited crafting resources and land-based resources Inside.


    Lilijoy really wasn¡¯t sure which world was more important to the power dynamics of the clans, but it seemed that most of the open conflict occurred Inside, where it was tolerated, even sanctioned by the larger governing body of the Corp.


    Most of the clans¡¯ primary holdings were in the Purgatory section of the Inside, which held far more valuable and rare resources. Only a few clans had extensive holdings in the Garden, in part because the Garden''s resources were more common, but also because the rules in the Garden were much more restrictive. Outsiders and tempered subsets above level fifty were severely constrained in power, and combat between Outsiders made little sense, as both sides had to declare war, and could respawn indefinitely.


    Maintaining territory in the Garden against the wishes of the Insiders required a kind of obstinate cruelty that only a few clans had the stomach for. Naturally, Sinaloa possessed some of the most extensive holdings, including Averdale, the former homeland of the Garden Elves.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t get how we¡¯re supposed to find what we need in Averdale. It¡¯s not like we can force someone from Sinaloa to tell us.¡± Lilijoy said, once she had recovered from her viewing.


    ¡°That¡¯s the great part. Have you ever wondered how the clans move information back and forth between their holdings in the Outside and Inside?¡±


    Lilijoy really, really hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°I guess I assumed they just messaged back and forth, sent files through their systems, that kind of thing,¡± she replied.


    ¡°That¡¯s probably what they did in the early years. But the leaders of the clans, and even more the alchemists, needed better ways to manage their resources in both realms at the same time. They built, or discovered a powerful scrying tool, called an oracle stone, that let them bridge Inside and Outside. If you ask me, it¡¯s a bit of a cheat.¡±


    ¡°So they can access their files? But why don¡¯t they...¡±


    ¡°To tell you the truth, it makes my head hurt a little to think about it. I guess since the Inside is a total sensory replacement, Guardian, or whatever, controls what comes in and out of their senses. Of all our senses. It¡¯s why we can¡¯t access the Outside data streams when we¡¯re here.¡±


    Lilijoy caught herself before she blurted it out.


    But I can¡­


    Magpie continued, ¡°Anyway, oracle stones used to be really rare, lots of clan battles in Purgatory over them, that kind of thing. These days though, most of the bigger clans have a bunch of them. It shouldn¡¯t be impossible to get our hands on one in Averdale, if we¡¯re clever enough.¡±


    Lilijoy could see about a thousand problems with the plan already. How would they get into Averdale at all? What if Sinaloa didn¡¯t conveniently put Attaboy¡¯s location on their internal network? How would they use the oracle stones? What if there was a password or something?


    ¡°What if there¡¯s a password or something?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just an outline of a plan at this point. We have the rest of the week to fill in the details. We can always scrap it and try something else if we have to. Besides, what¡¯s the harm in trying? If we fail, we just respawn and try again.¡±


    ¡°How does that work? I only know what happens when I respawn here, and in the Trial too, I guess.¡±


    Magpie went on to explain all the ins and outs of respawning in the Garden. In friendly territory, outside of combat, respawning was a matter of seconds. In contested territory, or during combat, respawning could either take place outside of the contested area, or after combat was concluded depending on circumstances. For those killed in enemy held territory, the respawn would happen in the nearest friendly territory, or at a friendly point previously set.


    When an enemy was taken alive however, things got a little dicey. Clans and Insiders alike had perfected methods of immobilizing and weakening prisoners, what had become known on the Outside as ¡®torture bans¡¯. Logging out was often the only remedy, and logging in again would return them to the exact same location and condition. Without a rescue or extraction of some kind, it was unusual to escape. Thousands of Outsiders were torture banned, including Anda.


    Insiders had it even worse, of course, since they couldn¡¯t log out at all.


    For the next few days they met in the library every afternoon to look for clues and ideas that might help their mission, as well as to familiarize themselves with the names of elves who they might seek out for more recent intelligence.


    They learned that after the Sacking the remaining members of the elven royal family tried to retake the city for years but the bulk of their forces were tier-seven, and thus did not respawn. The untempered were not easily replaced by the slow-breeding elves. Sinaloan assassins and operatives disrupted attempted alliances through fear and chaos, making it clear to all that joining with elven forces would only invite bombings and atrocities in the population centers of would-be Insider allies. Over decades, the remaining elven population withdrew and dispersed around the continent; without their connection to their homeland, they became a shadow of their former selves, bitter and angry toward all, especially Outsiders.


    It didn¡¯t help that the sacking of Averdale was only one of the atrocities perpetrated by clans. The plains orcs had been slaughtered and driven from their grassy homelands by the Maasai clan, while the dwarves had collapsed the mighty depths of Mount Misgalir, rather than allow Outsiders to possess their second largest underground city. There were dozens of similar tragedies, perhaps on a slightly smaller scale.


    Many of the human nations Inside were ruled by clans, who had dispossessed the hereditary ruling classes. Somehow, Lilijoy felt less bad about that. After all, human feudal systems had a history of sudden regime change on the Outside, and as far as she could tell, the clan rulers weren¡¯t much different from the Insiders who had preceded them.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    She did wonder where the Archon was in all of this though, as well as the tier-five subsets known as Gongen. Surely, she thought, they could reverse the horrors and injustice perpetrated by Sinaloa and others, if they wanted to.


    Lilijoy and Magpie considered several options to deal with the issue of respawning.


    ¡°I just don¡¯t think it¡¯s a big deal,¡± Magpie had said. ¡°Our levels are really low. If we get caught, they¡¯ll respawn us without even trying.¡±


    They had come to an unspoken agreement that talking about ¡®respawning¡¯ was far preferable to talking about death.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know much about all of this,¡± replied Lilijoy, ¡°but shouldn¡¯t we have some kind of guarantee, in case we get captured?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, we¡¯re hardly the first to face this issue. Just about everyone who heads into a situation where they could be captured prepares some kind of fail-safe these days. There¡¯s even a Subtle Arts class about it. Only the oldest kids can take it though.¡±


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s not exactly normal for lower-levels like us to get captured.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more common than you might think. But students are usually released pretty quickly. We¡¯re just not that important. The clan heirs and such are usually guarded, and given respawn kits when they leave the Academy grounds.¡±


    ¡°They have kits?¡± To Lilijoy¡¯s practical side, this made perfect sense. The part of her informed by Emily and the Internet Archive was feeling deeply uncomfortable. It¡¯s just respawning, she reminded herself for about the hundredth time.


    ¡°Yeah, you know, pills, bombs, that kind of thing. They¡¯ve gotten it down to a science. It¡¯s an arms race, really, where the enemy is trying their best to keep you alive, and you are trying your best...¡±


    ¡°I wonder if anyone has developed an ability.¡±


    ¡°What, like Respawn on Command or something? If someone did, they¡¯d be the most important person in the Garden.¡±


    Lilijoy considered that for a moment.


    ¡°Ok, enough respawn talk,¡± said Magpie. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to planning.¡±


    So far, the elements of the plan they had nailed down consisted of traveling to the Forest of Averdale during the next experience term. There, they would connect with a band of Averdale liberation fighters known to Magpie. Even though the elves had all but abandoned hope, there were still groups composed of a variety of races who fought to avenge the injustice and atrocity perpetrated by Sinaloa.


    The clan had never been able to drive them from the outskirts of the forest, as most of them were tier-sixes, who could respawn almost as easily as Outsiders. The forest had become something of a magnet for young Insider adventurers seeking to prove themselves and strike a blow against the wicked Outsiders. It wasn¡¯t unknown for other Outsiders to fight alongside the liberation groups, and at times the area turned into a proxy battle for other clans seeking to make life difficult for Sinaloa.


    It was all very complicated, and Lilijoy hoped that she and Magpie would be able to infiltrate and get what they needed without getting sucked into the politics. She had no illusions that it would be easy to do though. She could only imagine that over a century of guerrilla war and infiltration attempts had hardened Sinaloa¡¯s defenses to a remarkable extent. At least it was worth the attempt, as the possible consequences were relatively small. Unless they were captured alive.


    ***


    Along with planning and training, the rest of her time was occupied with weaving and cultivating, two activities she had found to be quite similar. She often thought of Mr. Sennit¡¯s question, where does the flower go? as she practiced weaving string together in increasingly complicated patterns.


    The simple answer was that the pattern existed in her mind, but there were layers of understanding she was coming to appreciate as she considered the issue. For instance, she could follow instructions formulaically and produce the flower. Did that mean that the formula was the flower? Or, she could hold the flower in her mind in totality, seeing the relationships of the loops and twists of the single string.


    This difference between the ¡®recipe¡¯ and the ¡®meal¡¯ often occupied her mind as her fingers performed the intricate dance routine with the cords. Often, she imagined that her thoughts were themselves the string, flowing through a linear narrative that could cross back over itself and coil around to form structures that were meaningful on a higher level. Were her thoughts following a recipe in the creation of meaning?


    It was also interesting to consider where the flower went when she wasn¡¯t thinking about. If it still existed in her mind as memory then perhaps it stayed where it was, a permanent fixture, and her conscious thought left it and returned as needed. But if that was the case, then memory was the truly real thing, and her consciousness was more like a moving window, or the beam of a flashlight in a dark room, revealing truth in passing. Or, her memory could be nothing more than chemical recipes the brain used to recreate totalities, and the true meal was the act of awareness.


    Such ruminations were fascinating and frustrating. She often wished she could have more than one string of thought to weave together. True, she could juggle many ideas, or write down thoughts and then think about what she had written, but she felt like she was stuck on ¡®recipe level¡¯ for many of the important concepts she wished to understand better.


    It was much the same in her cultivation. She could easily fall into a blissful state of thoughtless creation, where her will and emotions unlocked waves of molecular construction. When she did, she felt herself as a small part of something much greater. She wasn¡¯t the writer, or even the words; she was most like the cursor, the placeholder at the moment of creation.


    It wasn¡¯t that she wanted more control. She wanted to be bigger, greater, to expand and contain and understand what she was doing as she built out thousands of crystalline mechanisms connecting and encompassing the very brain she was using to perform the act of creation.


    She missed Jiannu terribly at times. She was the one who had seemed to understand what was going on at a level Lilijoy couldn¡¯t. But now Jiannu and parts of herself and Emily were all blended and sequestered away, waiting for¡­ well, she wasn¡¯t really sure.


    It was a problem she mostly avoided thinking about, the whole split mind thing and the fact that she had no idea how to resolve it. Over the week, she had cultivated several times, adding roots and branches with her Immortal Crystal Oak technique. She was afraid to do anything too dramatic, and had focused on building out existing structures, until the thought had occurred to her that she might be widening whatever divide there was between her Stage Two and Stage One selves by adding to Stage Two.


    It wasn¡¯t like she could gain equality by building another tree though, so she had switched her focus to building support systems, hoping inspiration would strike eventually.


    The new architecture for managing heat flow during cultivation did wonders for her ability to cultivate the bugs for Ranks four and five, though it wasn¡¯t perfect. For one, it very much favored Stage two cultivation, as the crystals being built dumped their heat directly into the branches and roots of the tree, sweeping it out of her brain with almost no resistance. For Stage one, and the other more mechanical support systems, there was still a point where the heat accumulated before reaching the areas of high thermal conductivity, so she couldn¡¯t go all out. Even so, she estimated her build speed was about ten times faster than before, or about two hundred million bugs per hour.


    The blood bugs she was making were amazingly effective at storing and transporting oxygen. Already she had made several billion, and she was looking forward to seeing just how long she could hold her breath on the Outside. Realistically, she knew that she had a long ways to go, but even a few billion should extend her oxygen carrying capability by a minute or two. It would probably take a couple more weeks to get to experience the full capabilities, including instant clotting and oxygen reserves of several hours.


    The skin bugs she had received from Anda were much more complex, though thankfully she needed fewer of them. They didn¡¯t take that long to build, but then they had to travel to her skin and take up residence there, link to their neighbors and form a multi-layered structure of flexible diamond carbon fiber and shear-thickening fluid.


    She had already started reinforcing the skin of her head and abdomen, prioritizing her vital points, which she thought would take a week or so. Since it would be at least another week before she could attempt to rescue Attaboy Outside, she felt pretty good about the timing.


    She had yet to hear anything from Anda, which was a growing concern. Two or three days she had expected, but a full week was pushing it, making it more likely that something other than his adaptation to a new system was at play.


    She really hoped that rescuing Anda wouldn¡¯t be her next agenda.

 Book 2: Ch. 28: Petrified

    Interlude: Attaboy


    The boy sneered confidently, but Attaboy could smell his fear.


    ¡°Go!¡± barked the trainer.


    The boy slid his front foot forward and lowered his wooden sword. Attaboy could see his balance shifting, preparing a lunge.


    He moved, flowing into the path of the boy¡¯s blade, gently guiding it with his own. Then he was past, the boy behind him doubled over.


    ¡°Stop! What the hell was that, Manuel? My eighty-year-old grandmother could have used the opening you left.¡±


    Attaboy agreed, though he was impressed by the instructor¡¯s grandmother.


    Dijiann spoke to him. Remember, you must conceal what you can do.


    That was nothing, replied Attaboy. This boy is slow.


    Then adjust your speed to his. Doctor Quimea will understand we are deceiving him if you advance too quickly.


    Attaboy sighed. It was hard not to show what he could do to these tall, sneering people. In his dreams, he was tall, like them. His dreams were teaching him to be strong, giving him skills and abilities he had possessed in his earlier life.


    That was how he had finally learned to cultivate a few days past.


    Dijiann had explained it all to him.


    His real name was Atticus.


    <hr>


    Chapter 28: Petrified


    Her stomach itched. It was an almost fiery sensation, a storm of nerve endings blasting their irritation to her brain. Then she realized her face and scalp were itching too. The skin under her frantically scratching hand felt oddly stiff and lumpy, and Lilijoy felt a moment of panic before she realized it must be the new skin bugs at work. In addition to the itch, she felt stiff, sore, hungry, and her mouth felt mossy.


    Might have overdone it in the pod this time, she thought.


    The pods weren¡¯t really designed for seven days of continuous immersion, but she had pushed it that far in her desire to maximize her training time Inside.


    Maybe I should log out to cultivate, at least every other time.


    It was a bit weird coming back to a body so full of uncomfortable sensations. Her teeth were still coming in, and her bones ached with what she hoped were growing pains. Her muscles were sore from the stimulation her system provided in accordance with her Inside activities. Never mind the odd sensations from the top layer of her skin being pushed apart to make room for the skin bug¡¯s armor.


    Perhaps it was due to the lack of aches and pains, but her new hand was the last thing she noticed. She had been using it without thought, still accustomed to her Inside body. It felt almost like her real hand, just a bit numb or cold, the fingers stiff with a tiny lag between impulse and action. Her grip was strong though, at least as strong as her real hand.


    I wonder if it will keep improving, she thought. A powerful wave of gratitude to Savitri swept over her.


    She found a ration bar that she had put aside, and a container of stale water. A quick adjustment of her augsenses made the bar taste like chocolate, and the water cold and fresh. ¡°Thanks flowers,¡± she murmured as she ate on her cot, thinking on what to do next. Her fingers rubbed the palm of her right hand, and she felt a brief panic before she realized that, of course, Nandi''s boon wouldn''t be there.


    A run around the abandoned city would be just the thing for a body restless from a week of confinement, she decided.


    She made her way out of the monastery and down the hill to the city below, savoring the chill as her muscles warmed to the activity. The difference between her Inside and Outside bodies continued to grow, she noted, despite the efforts of her system. Isometric stimulation and med bugs could only do so much.


    It was late afternoon, and the dark red sky cast a pink glow upon the ice and snow. The only sound was the wind pushing icy crystals through the broken windows of the buildings all around. Despite her exertion, the cold nipped her fingers and toes, and she expanded her peripheral blood vessels a bit, sacrificing some core temperature.


    As she ran, her thoughts kept bouncing between her concerns over Attaboy, Anda and her divided mind. She increased her pace to escape her troubles, leaping over drifts and dodging fallen rubble. Her body warmed and her muscles burned, but still her breath came without effort. Focusing on the distant glacier covered mountains rising over the city, she pushed herself fast and then faster, until she felt the beginnings of oxygen deprivation force her breath to catch at the cold air.


    Abruptly, her new stamina collapsed, and so did she. She stumbled into a frozen drift she had meant to hurdle and landed on her side, lungs heaving to capture the air her body suddenly craved.


    Guess the blood bugs just ran out of oxygen, she thought as she stared at the side of an apartment building. I need a better way to monitor what¡¯s happening with them.


    After another minute, she recovered enough to drag herself out of the biting breeze and into the lobby level of the apartment building. Fake palm trees coated with a thin layer of frost stood proudly among the discarded belongings of the former inhabitants and lobby furniture. She collapsed onto a frozen couch cushion, and wondered how many bodies were in the apartments above her. Unlike most major cities, Cochabamba¡¯s collapse had been slow and somewhat orderly, but she had no doubt that some percentage of the inhabitants remained in the city to this day, their bodies frozen where they lay.


    Putting such morbid thoughts from her mind, she raised her core temperature and circulated her blood vigorously before descending to her soul space.


    Might as well see about a blood bug monitor while I recover.


    There stood the Tree of Thorns, surrounded by the statues she had created to memorialize her experiences. She wondered what the soul space was actually for. Surely it had a use beyond a gallery for her memories and a foyer to her mind space.


    The Tao System¡¯s creator, Dr. Henry Choi, had built in many parallels from Taoist mysticism, both high and lowbrow. The process of cultivation in the Korean and Chinese fantasy novels he must have enjoyed as a youth had influenced many little details of the nanotechnological system he built, and she was sure there were many Easter eggs scattered throughout that she might never discover.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    At some point a week ago, she had realized that the entire approach to growing the system was built on a pun between agricultural cultivation and mystical cultivation. She mentally bumped up the priority of reading some classic wuxia novels from the early twenty-first century. Maybe she would even find a clue or two.


    She pulled up Henry Choi¡¯s biography from the web archive. There were several biographies from various times and locations up to the last year the archive was updated, 2069. The latest, and most comprehensive was from the Tao Systems Technology website, archived in 2062. When she had first found the site, she had been disappointed to find that it was a compilation of platitudes and slogans like ¡°Finding a brighter future, together!¡± It contained almost no information about what the company actually did, and hosted only a few old papers by its founders, Henry and Gabrielle Choi, along with their biographies. She read through Henry Choi''s bio for the umpteenth time, skipping the boring sections.


    Born in 2020, Gwangju, Korea, moved to Connecticut, went to MIT, blah, blah, blah, patents nano this, patents nano that.


    The bulk of his patents were for obscure nanotechnology quantum computing manufacturing techniques that Lilijoy was sure were very important. She had found his name on a list of ¡°wealthiest Korean-American immigrants,¡± at some point, so he obviously made some good money along the way.


    Met and married his wife Gabrielle in 2053, founded Tao Systems Technology with her in 2060 to make the world a better place for their children. Guess that didn¡¯t work out did it?


    Gabrielle¡¯s bio was much the same. She was born Gabrielle Wilson in 2024 in Elyria, Ohio, did a bunch of science stuff and ended up the chief technology officer for a startup that built the first nanoscale integrated neurological interfaces, before they were bought out by Tesla. As far as Lilijoy could tell, Wilson and Choi were both billionaires when they met in 2053.


    It was odd that two brilliant and wealthy individuals left such a relatively small footprint in the web archive. All mention of their joint company disappeared around 2062, well before the events that finally destroyed the internet completely. Lilijoy was sure that if she wanted to spend a month or two researching the geopolitics and technological history of the twenty-first century, she might have a better idea of exactly what had happened, but her other concerns were far more pressing.


    She remained there for several minutes, looking at the small picture of Henry Choi next to the biography. He was wearing a bike helmet and sunglasses, looking over his shoulder at the camera. The picture had obviously been taken on a bike ride, and it surprised Lilijoy to see that he was a large man, with broad shoulders and a thick neck. He hadn¡¯t shown up in any of Emily¡¯s memories that Lilijoy had experienced, and she added that to her list of things to get around to. If she was honest with herself, she was still afraid of Emily¡¯s memories, afraid that they would become her memories. It would be all too easy for Emily¡¯s family to become her family.


    Would that really be so bad?


    She wasn¡¯t sure anymore.


    ¡°Who were you, and why did you put a soul space in your rational twenty-first century technology?¡± she asked the picture.


    The feeling that it was an important, even vital mystery to solve only grew, and it occurred to her that perhaps she was asking the wrong picture. Perhaps the other Choi parent, Gabrielle had been responsible.


    She suspected it was her memories from Emily that were biasing her. To Emily, Gabrielle was the white-tiger mom who made her daughter practice piano and worried about what the in-laws thought, not the brilliant scientist and engineer she was to the rest of the world.


    What was your role in all of this? she thought, looking at the picture next to Gabrielle¡¯s bio, blond and immaculate in her business attire.


    Gabrielle was the one with the background in neural interfaces. As far as Lilijoy could determine, it was her inventions that enabled Tesla to be the first to release a full spectrum sensory replacement system. More than any other person, Gabrielle was responsible for the technology included in every modern Rank One system.


    With a sigh, Lilijoy closed the virtual screen and looked around at her statue garden. Her best theory about the function of the soul space was that it served as a kind of continuity bank. Tao System users would inevitably change and grow at a pace far beyond what the evolved human brain was prepared for. Perhaps the soul space was a place where they could reinforce their sense of self, meant to be filled with the memories and meaning that defined them as individuals. It was certainly how she had been using it.


    She cast her mind back to her earliest encounters with the soul space. Jiannu had been typically vague about its purpose, mostly just talking about how fun it would be to decorate.


    Did she say it like that because that was all I could understand at the time?


    She had meant to continue on to her mind space and create a better interface for her blood bugs, but she decided that could wait while she spent some time developing her soul space instead.


    I¡¯ve never tested the limits of what I can do here, she thought. Lets see if I can build some better defenses for my self.


    As if in response to her thought, wind swept through the leaves of the Tree of Thorns, bending and twisting the eighteen branches.


    Did I do that?


    She willed it to stop, and the rustling leaves stilled. The darkness pressed in on her from all sides, and her small grove felt like a flickering candle in a sea of black.


    No.


    She pushed against the dark, breaking through the thin barrier between imagination and creation with a push of will. Her soul space grew brighter, radiant white streaming out from the space itself, pushing back the night. The blacks and grays of the rocky statues deepened, the tree¡¯s silver and deep green intensified, and the ground surface manifested as a flat, dark nothing.


    Well, that won¡¯t do.


    With another thought and push, the ground sprouted, soft grass, violets and clover hit the center of the space and spread like the ripples of a fallen drop, pushing past the stones to the edge of the light and beyond. In response, the wind returned, stronger than before, curling around the grove, whipping at her hair. A single leaf ripped from the tree and whisked away into the dark.


    I definitely didn¡¯t do that. An uneasy feeling swept through her. This was her space.


    Wasn¡¯t it?


    She willed the wind to stop, and it receded, briefly, before returning even stronger, formed into a howling vortex that overtook the grove. The light, her light, dimmed and shrank, as more leaves were ripped from the twisting branches. The statues all around seemed to writhe and stretch in the flickering light, and she felt herself growing solid, manifesting a body where before was just awareness.


    The wind howled, and she could hear voices whispering in it, under it, formless sibilants that coalesced into words.


    The Self is not the Soul.


    Her new body stiffened as she brought her arm up to shelter from the swirling leaves, and she saw streaks of gray on her forearm. She tried to leave, tried to return to the waking world, but she was held, rooted in place. Her legs were too heavy to lift as she panicked and tried to run, and she saw the stone traveling across her body, crystallizing, setting.


    She joined her statues.


    For seconds or an eternity she stood as her vision faded, and then with a sharp cracking sensation, she split, and she was looking at a small girl with spiked hair, holding her arm in front of her face to fend off a hostile universe. Heart pounding and hands shaking, she inspected the statue of herself as the wind continued to howl and lights dimmed further. The branches of the tree were whipping, twisting and coiling, and she heard a loud snap as one of them splintered into the air. She ducked as it hurtled overhead, lashing her with trailing thorns.


    ¡°Why is this happening!¡± she wailed, turning to find shelter behind Anda''s statue. As she moved, she felt something grab her arm, pulling her around face to face with the stone Lilijoy. Its eyes were open and stared blankly, mouth agape.


    She pulled free from her statue''s rough grasp and fell on to her back and elbows. Its mouth slowly opened and closed, its hands groped the air where she had been. She felt her body becoming heavy again, and in a moment, stone rushed across her, encasing her in darkness and silence.


    Another snap, and she was standing next to two statues of herself, one reaching out, almost pleading, another sprawled on her back, propped up on bent arms with a look of horror on her face.


    As she took this in, a heavy branch came tearing free from the Tree of Thorns and smashed into Anda¡¯s statue, breaking its arm and part of the face off. Thorny branches and pieces of stone whirled around her as her mementos destroyed each other in the whirlwind. She collapsed to her knees, sobbing into her hands, ignoring the blows and lacerations from the flying debris.


    Her soul space was destroying itself.

 Book 2: Ch. 29: Bardo

    Interlude: Attaboy


    <table width="377" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="369">External Message from Right Hand of Azreal (Tier 5)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="369" height="17">


    Mode: Satellite, Narrow


    Message Content: Text


    Title: Registration


    Message Body:


    A Message was received from <Atticus> [Self Identified] using system [Tao 3.0.6]


    This identification and system are unregistered to the Guardian network.


    Identification <Atticus> unavailable.


    Please supply a different identification, or ranked list of identifications to register system [Tao 3.0.6]


    Registration will enable access to public Guardian services.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="369" height="16">Contact | Delete | Blacklist | Quarantine | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Attaboy was annoyed that this Right Hand person wouldn¡¯t let him use his true name. He couldn¡¯t ask anyone for advice, since he wasn¡¯t supposed to know about registering with Guardian.


    ¡°That¡¯s the special gob,¡± a young person had whispered to another earlier that day. ¡°A word to him could mean your death!¡±


    ¡°I heard he¡¯s like Nykka.¡±


    ¡°What? No. He¡¯s wild.¡±


    ¡°Why is he even here?¡±


    Thankfully, his ear was working better than ever. He could hear other people talk about him. Sometimes it seemed that was all the people around him could talk about. That¡¯s how he learned about ¡®registering¡¯ his system. Dijiann had helped him figure out the rest, since he didn¡¯t seem to have any dreams about it.


    His ear had also allowed him to learn about the other major topic of conversation among the people of the Southern Sanctuary. A place that they went as much as they were allowed. A place with fighting, and creatures he had never heard of, that even Dijiann had never heard of. It sounded like the place that he sometimes went in his dreams, with vivid bright light and green plants as far as the eye could see.


    A place called ¡®Inside.¡¯


    He sighed and submitted his request again.


    <hr>


    Chapter 29: Bardo


    Ears ringing, she curled up on the ground in despair and felt the now familiar sensation of cold stone spreading through her body. Something hit her just as the blackness took her for a third time.


    Snap.


    Now standing over the three statues of herself, the first one had fallen atop her most recent form. The one on the ground was twisting, turning toward the other two, the look of horror changing to despair mirroring her own.


    This is the end. She felt a wave of acceptance wash over her and she sat down amid the stone bodies, no longer horrified by their odd movements.


    I wonder how many stone Lilijoys there will be when my body finally freezes Outside?


    The image of a tornado of her broken stone bodies forever swirling in her soul space popped into her head, and she didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry. She felt a cold, hard hand on her shoulder and then another on her ankle. The wind hit a new peak and the buried voices roared in ragged chorus.


    ¡°THE SOUL IS NOT THE SELF.¡±


    ¡°Fine, I get it!¡± She screamed into the wind, dodging something that looked suspiciously like a lizard. ¡°What is it then?¡±


    A large yin leaf plastered itself on her forehead before being torn away. The hand on her shoulder squeezed painfully and she saw her stone face, mouth moving. She had just enough time to yell, ¡°Are you saying something?¡± before her body stiffened and crackled like ice in a metal tray, and the darkness took her yet again.


    Snap.


    She was back, and diving to the ground immediately, sheltering in her own stone figures. The wind had reached a critical point, carrying stone that broke off still more stone from the surrounding columns. All her previous statues, Anda, Attaboy, the piles, the tribe, all were little more than stone posts now. Out of the other eye, she could see that the tree was bare branched, jagged and broken, whipping and vibrating in tune with the whirling winds.


    Again, the stone hands of her former selves found her, grasped her urgently. She looked directly at their faces, her faces.


    What are they saying? She was an excellent lip reader, but their lips were moving slowly, and had no tongue or teeth she could see, just a stretched expanse of bare stone between their lips. They were all saying the same thing at different times. If only she had access to her sensory playback, she could at least speed it up, but nothing was working.


    A large stone hit one of the figures holding her, knocking it down to slide several feet along the ground before fetching up against the base of a former monument.


    She tried to think. How many words? They¡¯re definitely not saying that ¡®soul is not self¡¯ or ¡®self is not soul¡¯ stuff.


    That had been her first guess, but the cycle had three movements. Three syllables, maybe three words? The slowness was infuriating, and she had to wait for several more cycles before she had something, just before the stone took her again.


    Snap.


    Dive to the ground. The statues slowly converged on her, covering her.


    Protecting her?


    She knew what it it was they were saying, what it had to be.


    ¡°I¡¯m still here.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t just leaving behind her stone body with each snapping cycle. She was leaving behind her self. Each of the statues was still her. She was splitting, breaking off pieces of her self, and each of them was still her, aware enough to understand that she needed to know.


    She thought she understood what to do.


    ¡°This self is not the soul,¡± she said and she hugged the closest statue, looking it in the blank stone eyes. With all her might, she reached out to a phantom body, a phantom mind, like the golden flower, like the sixth finger. Two minds, one self. She felt the stone grow through her once more.


    ¡°Not yet damn it!¡±


    She released her mind into her stone self. She dissolved. She ended.


    ...she was lying on the ground, huddled over nothing. Her flesh and blood self had disappeared, swept away in a stream of particles into the vortex. She felt the stone body she inhabited begin to move and thaw, the speed of her thoughts accelerating. She turned to her neighboring self. This self is not the soul, she thought. And she pushed through and she ended.


    ...she saw her flesh and blood self disappear, saw her neighboring self mouth something new to her and dissolve into a stream of fine sand whipped into the wind. So that¡¯s how it is, she thought, turning to her neighbor.


    Across the clearing, one Lilijoy after another released and dissolved, until there was one, still pinned by the fierce winds to the base of the column. The Tree of Thorns, now little more than a stump shaved down by the blasting sand, uprooted entirely, tearing its roots out from around the basalt boulder representing her brain. She felt her stone body thawing, and knew she had little time to waste. Crawling, dragging her stiff stone legs through the blasted remnants of grass and flowers, cutting through the carving wind as it cut through her, she pulled herself to the boulder.


    ¡°The self is not the soul,¡± she said, as she laid her hands on the enormous black stone brain and pushed. And ended.


    The vortex spun, an unending circle of all that had been the selves of Lilijoy.


    Memories, cherished and feared, hopes, thoughts and feelings spun around each other, condensed and wove into each other. It spun and pulsed and danced, and she became aware of the dancing, spinning mote within her soul space, a tiny joyful, vibrant seed of refined experience, spinning at her center. With the awareness of the seed came a thought.


    This is all that I am. I see myself within my self.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    She searched within her mind for the other, that which had fractured and awoken first after the intervention of Eskalia Treetouched, the ocean soul. Upon finding nothing, no sign of another consciousness, she realized that it was her. But she was also each of the selves who had died and dissolved into experience, the person who had been at the Academy for the past week. She was whole. It felt¡­ good.


    The intervention of the ocean soul was both undone and completed.


    She could tell that her conscious awareness was a thin skin atop a vast reservoir, could feel the relationship between herself and the automated functions, memories and deep processing of her entire brain. It was going to take some getting used to.


    That kind of sucked, she thought.


    Shouldn¡¯t I be more upset?


    She took a moment to inventory her emotions. Anger, terror, sorrow, loss, all were present in a churning cauldron of brain chemistry. She could see her system routing around them, acknowledging their presence, monitoring their levels. She could track subsystems engaged to gently neutralize the chemical storms over time.


    She explored further. It appeared to her that Stage Two was housing much of her conscious awareness at the moment, while Stage One engaged with her primal reactions. She watched as the neural paths between her hippocampus and amygdala flared and fed off of one another. Short term memories and fight or flight response linked together in what should have been an unstoppable cascade of panic. Instead, her system was containing the vicious cycle, siphoning off the energies.


    This is the real power of Stage One, she thought.


    With the additional leverage and processing power of Stage Two, she could choose to feel anything she wanted to. In hindsight, it was clear that her system had certain safeguards that had been engaged since the very first days of her journey.


    She thought back to the feeling of well-being that had swept over her after she woke up in the dark and noisy factory mine. That had been a crude neurochemical intervention, not much different from the pain block her system had created for her injured arm. As her system grew, so did the subtlety of its intervention.


    Should I be alarmed?


    She surveyed the methods, the elegance of the interface with her chemical pathways. She inventoried her memories as Jiannu, who she now understood was not a truly self aware being, but rather a set of guidelines for feeding output from the quantum circuits of the Golden Flower through the caring and nurturing emotional responses of her brain, riding and reflecting Lilijoy¡¯s narrative of consciousness.


    No wonder she couldn¡¯t cultivate. She really was just a part of me, helping me interface with the system.


    She watched as a certain anxiety pathway released and dissipated, the one connected to her fear that Jiannu was a foreign awareness that might not have her best interests at heart. Nearby, the circuits that represented her fears about the system and Emily continued unchecked.


    I need to remember that Gabrielle allowed this system in her children¡¯s heads. Her own head and her husbands, too.


    She looked at the parameters for system action, noted how it monitored and corrected to avoid the strengthened neural circuits and myelination that characterized trauma. The system contained a general reference for what the emotional pathways of a healthy human mind looked liked, and corrected when variance reached a certain number of standard deviations. Now, if she wanted to, she could adjust those parameters, or remove them entirely.


    I wonder whose minds they used for their references?


    She knew that if she was relying only on the original components of her brain, she would be feeling terrified, overwhelmed with the power her system was presenting to her. She couldn¡¯t change the world outside of her, not yet.


    Instead, she could change what the world meant.


    In many ways, the greatest power of all. No prison could hold her, because it would not be a prison in her mind. She could motivate herself and stay that way, accomplish any task, no matter how long or arduous. She didn¡¯t need to feel fear, or anger. She could love or hate on command. She could¡­


    Oh crap. I¡¯m really in over my head, she realized.


    I need to talk to someone else before I start messing with this.


    She had an idea about that, but first, she needed to process what had happened in her soul space.


    She knew now that it was an entirely deliberate act on the part of her system. She suspected that the capabilities of Stage Two required it. It seemed likely that Henry and Gabrielle Choi, or someone else for that matter, anticipated that Tao System users would need to learn how to split and reform their selves, and that the lesson would be, even needed to be, traumatic.


    It¡¯s amazing how pain and growth are entwined. Even my body has growing pains right now.


    The primary lesson she took from the experience was that there was a different kind of continuity possible to her beyond the strictly linear. She could have more than one self, and those selves could end, and she would continue.


    One mind... no, one soul, many selves.


    Mind, soul, it didn¡¯t matter what the label was. Once the walls of self were softened, broken, her mind could flow and dance, could grow. She had been a plant in too small a pot, and now she was transplanted to the garden, pot forever shattered. She could split herself and reform because she had learned to die at the level of the self, could trust that the thoughts and feelings and memories of each self would become part of something greater.


    I can make subsets now, in a way. Different versions of me to do different things at the same time. Then we can recombine. I can use a part of me as a new Jiannu, to take over the system management.


    The idea felt bizarre, but right at the same time.


    She watched the tiny glowing seed spin in her soul space. All her experiences and feelings were in there, or represented there anyway. If she looked closely, she could see the web of relationships, of cause and effect that represented why she thought and felt the way she did.


    As I grow and experience new things, it will grow too. It will function as the common ground for all the versions of myself. We will each add to it in our own way.


    I wonder what else it can do?


    It seemed that the mystery of her soul space had only transformed. Though at least it made more practical sense now. She wondered how many versions of the Tao System were required to get it to its current stage.


    The version number of her system was 2.3.3, so perhaps the ¡®mind-rending blender¡¯ effect was a new feature in version 2.1.0 or something like that, when the developers realized just how profound the barriers of self and ego truly were. She had already gotten used to ¡®sort of dying¡¯ on the Inside, which probably made the whole thing easier. How much harder was it for adults with a lifetime of experience in being themselves, and only themselves?


    What would Gabrielle, the protective mother, think if she knew that this part of the Tao System would someday be used by a girl the same age as her daughter?


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t think she would approve.


    Of course, for all she knew, Emily got another system the next year, complete with blender. Her sense of Emily as an eternal thirteen-year-old girl was so strong that she had never thought about what happened to her after the system was removed. Did Emily have a chance to grow up, to have a family of her own? She would have been nineteen or twenty at the time of the tribulations. Lilijoy put the thought from her mind. She would never know, and she was okay with that.


    With full access to all the system knowledge that Jiannu had possessed, one thing was readily apparent- there were absolutely no contingencies for a Tao System user learning on their own. The programs running within Stage One contained numerous pointers and references to data held outside of her head. Some of that external data related to developing Stage Two, some of it was probably extended help files, and information on system capabilities and extensions.


    No wonder Jiannu had often seemed vague and mysterious; she was not just an interface for the development of Stage One, she was also supposed to serve as a conduit for external resources.


    So what now? she thought.


    The full potential of Stage Two was available to her, at least in theory. Eventually. She felt a bit like Mister Sennit, with an Illuminated level Magi skill, and no guidance in how to use it. There was still a huge amount of cultivation to be done, along with integration of the support systems.


    She also needed to sort through Emily¡¯s memories.


    Even though Emily only had the Stage One system in her head for a few months, there were memories of memories going back long before she had received it. The direct sensory data in the form of the system logs was the easiest to access, but there were other layers, entirely internal, that the system had captured. Interfacing with those was difficult and gave Lilijoy the strong sensation that she had forgotten many things, which was odd, as she had never experienced them in the first place.


    Should I still be afraid of Emily?


    She didn¡¯t know, and that told her something important. With a thought, she quarantined all of Emily that was left in her system. For now.


    Now what?


    She knew what to do, and somehow, how to do it.


    The process of splitting her consciousness deliberately was terrifying, and surprisingly simple. Consciousness was an emergent property of the brain at certain levels of connectivity. It manifested as a narrative process, mainly through language, a story that the brain was telling itself. What she needed to do was isolate a hemisphere by blocking the activity of her corpus collosum, and then make use of the redundant connections of Stage two to allow both hemispheres to access the language centers of her mind.


    The major difference between Jiannu and the new self-structure she was building was that Jiannu had used the language processing capabilities built into Stage One, which impeded the internal feedback between awareness and symbol. That was what prevented Jiannu from exercising will, that and the fact that her primary neural unit was a single Golden Flower.


    Once both personalities were stable, they could coexist, even after she allowed communication to resume between the hemispheres. The Stage two processing units were easily capable of juggling the workload. In fact, she was amazed at how little ¡®space¡¯ her consciousness used. It was somewhat akin to realizing that the genetic code for an entire elephant was invisible to the eye. Her consciousness rode her brain lightly, its complexity in the self-referential structures it contained and engendered between different cortical structures. It was not a thing, a program that could be printed, but a self-reinforcing process. A story telling itself. Now two stories told to one another.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hi! I guess we did it?¡±


    ¡°Sure seems that way. Um¡­ I guess I¡¯ll take the cultivating stuff. I feel like¡­¡±


    ¡°...you want to be like Jiannu this time?¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Did we plan this?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Maybe it was the different hemispheres?¡±


    ¡°I thought that was disproved, or...¡±


    ¡°...or maybe just exaggerated. We have the system connecting everything up anyway.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Perhaps we automatically use different circuits to avoid conflicts. Besides, it¡¯s fun to use big words.¡±


    ¡°That means I get to run the body stuff!¡±


    ¡°Should we clone another to handle Emily¡¯s memories?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s wait and see how this goes. They aren¡¯t going anywhere.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably prudent to stay a duo for now too¡±


    ¡°So should I call you...¡±


    ¡°Jiannu is fine. After dying six times, what¡¯s a little name change? Besides, we really missed her.¡±


    ¡°Will we grow apart?¡± asked Lilijoy


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we can anymore. I think our narratives will co-mingle automatically.¡± Jiannu replied.


    "So what should we do with our emotions?"


    "We''ve been stable to this point, despite many traumatic experiences..."


    "...so don''t mess with them until we know more."


    "We should focus on our foundation."


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to have you back, Jiannu¡±


    ¡°You know what the first thing I¡¯m going to do is?¡±


    ¡°Oh! Are you going to fix the system status?¡±


    ¡°Better than ever. I¡¯ll have a blood bug interface for you by the time you¡¯re back Outside too.¡±


    ¡°Yay! Happy cultivating.¡±


    ¡°Happy training, Lilijoy.¡±


    She opened her eyes in the icy hotel lobby. She could feel her other self working in the background, knew that they could be one again in an instant if either wanted.


    She felt the emotions from her recent experience bubbling through her body. The system allowed her to acknowledge them without being possessed by them. By far, the strongest was relief, an enormous burden removed from her shoulders. A new feeling of joy and freedom welled up within her.


    ¡°This is going to be awesome!¡± she announced to the frozen world.

 Book 2: Ch. 30: Experience

    The red rays of the afternoon sun stretched down the avenue and through wide lobby windows. Lilijoy stretched and checked her internal clock, briefly surprised to see that she had only been away for a few minutes, before she remembered that Stage Two had greatly accelerated her internal timescale.


    She thought back to building the great crystal tree, the period of passionate creation that occurred after the ocean mind gifted her with the Immortal Crystal Oak technique. It had been a glorious and timeless cultivation, and it wasn¡¯t until she completed the first stage that she realized her sense of subjective time was wildly different from the outside world, accelerating as she built. Without the external cues from her body, the rate of time in the flow state was difficult to measure, but she could guess that it had taken a month or so.


    It had only been when her other self, her biological self, had begun to stir that she compared her sense of time with her body¡¯s and realized that it had only been a little more than twelve hours. Building the Stage Two structures had consumed her thoughts entirely, and she winced as she thought back to the moment of panic when she realized her body was occupied by a different version of herself. The decision to firewall herself and recede to a minimal level of awareness had stemmed as much from fear and uncertainty as any rational thought, though her perception of those emotions as a Stage Two entity was much calmer than when she was embodied.


    Thank goodness that¡¯s over.


    Now the she had the best qualities of both stages working for her, she could evaluate her perception of time with greater clarity. When she processed sensory data, her experience of time was significantly slower than pure thought, but still far faster than it had been for Stage One by itself.


    To test it, she picked up a plastic wheel that had come off of some refugee¡¯s suitcase and let it drop, watching it drift slowly to the floor over about five seconds. About ten times faster when augmented, she noted. She decided that for most interactions with the physical world and the people in it, she would keep her sense of time unaugmented. It would be bizarre and frustrating to do otherwise.


    I bet the speed of normal minds evolved to match the speed of gravity¡¯s effects. I wonder if creatures on a high gravity planet would think much faster?


    A green bar appeared in her upper right vision, interrupting her musing. It was about a third full, and by focusing on it, she understood that her blood bugs were still re-oxygenating, and that they could currently provide supplemental oxygen for about six minutes of strenuous activity, or about an additional minute without breathing during heavy exercise.


    She directed the blood bugs to keep accumulating oxygen while she exercised, wanting to keep her biological system in good shape and not become overly reliant on the augmentation. Then she was off, running through the apartment building as if it was a huge obstacle course. She sprinted up the stairs, leaping and rolling over the railings when she could. It was difficult at first to get used to her strength being so much lower.


    Got to get some muscle bugs. In the meantime I should find a gym.


    A quick search of an internet archive map found a parkour area not far from where she was, about a kilometer away. She sprinted the entire distance, moving as fast as her little legs would carry her, and made it in just over three minutes, though she was forced to tap into her blood bugs. Her time was a little disappointing, but without Flash and with her short strides she would never be as fast as a full sized person, although she had grown about an inch and a half or so since her nutrition improved. She was hoping to reach four feet in height over the next six months.


    I wonder if there¡¯s a bug for that? she thought. Then she realized she could easily stimulate her growth hormones.


    ¡°On it,¡± she heard Jiannu¡¯s voice. It was nice of her other self to take on the role so thoroughly. ¡°Our pituitary is already active, but we can increase human growth hormone to some extent. We need to think about puberty as well. Our hypothalamus is cranking out gonadotropin-releasing hormone to make up for lost time, so the next few months could be a wild ride.¡±


    ¡°Peachy.¡± She had been doing her best to avoid thinking about the subject. ¡°Let¡¯s slow it down a bit and even it out if we can without causing problems later.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s already so perturbed by our delayed development that a little nudging won¡¯t hurt. I¡¯ll do more research.¡±


    She turned her attention back to the concrete barriers and equipment all around. The drifting snow and ice created an additional layer of challenge as she flung herself around the course, adding in extra flips and twists as she could while she played with her sense of subjective time. It was fun to feel herself hang in the air, slowly spinning as her feet drifted lazily over her head, but it was also more difficult. There was too much time to think, and she realized that her consciousness was not very good at movement skills. She learned to relax her mind and appreciate the scenery while her motor centers did the heavy lifting.


    After a time, she closed her eyes as she ran the course, practicing her echolocation and her memory of the layout. She slipped and fell heavily a few times, but felt that a few bruises and scrapes were a decent price for building her Outside skills. Plus, she had a deep reserve of med bugs now, so she could heal herself reasonably quickly, though not nearly at the rate she could Inside. Just as she landed a double twisting back flip off a concrete pylon, she saw a message arrive from Anda.


    Hi Lilijoy- That was a wild ride you sent me on. I have a new friend named Deva who lives in my head. Now there¡¯s a sentence I never imagined writing! It¡¯s been slow going, not least because there¡¯s some kind of quantum field interference here that keeps knocking the system down. I think that¡¯s solved now though.


    Beyond the eternity of gratitude I owe you, I also owe you apologies. I never imagined how strange and disorienting this was for you. When I received my first system, it was after years of instruction and preparation. It came with clear documentation, and dozens of people happy to help me when I was confused. This system (for some reason I¡¯m afraid to name it, silly huh?) came with a mildly sarcastic advisor who speaks in platitudes and occasionally quotes ancient Chinese literature. Nonetheless, I have begun to cultivate, and have even successfully registered the new system with Guardian without being evaporated by space lasers.


    It seems the hole in my head has been patched up. It¡¯s weird, but I can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m back to normal. Maybe I never knew what normal was. Wait. I was apologizing. I¡¯m sorry for my behavior after the brain injury. That couldn¡¯t have been easy to deal with. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t able to help you at times you needed it, and I am amazed and thankful for your strength and resiliency. I am very lucky to have you as a friend. Anda


    p.s. I¡¯m stuck in this place for at least another week, still trying to convince the Hand that I¡¯m not a security risk. I figure I¡¯ll reboot my Inside life while I¡¯m waiting, so I may pop by the Academy to find you. Never been there myself, as my clan didn¡¯t want its youth to be influenced. If I can¡¯t get in, I¡¯ll try to get a message to you.


    Lilijoy read the message and felt her eyes tear up.


    ¡°Right?¡± said Jiannu. ¡°What a relief.¡±


    Obviously, she had already seen it.


    ¡°I felt a little weird reading it before you did, but time moves a lot faster in here,¡± she continued. ¡°It came when you were in the middle of something strenuous and spinny, so I delayed it for a couple seconds.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°That¡¯s totally fine,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°It was familiar as I read it. I can remember everything you¡¯ve been doing if I want to.¡± It was an odd sensation. She had no present awareness of Jiannu, but she could deliberately remember what had just happened from her counterpart¡¯s viewpoint. ¡°I bet we could make some crazy feedback loops if we wanted to.¡±


    ¡°How about we rejoin to write a reply instead?¡±


    She descended to her soul space and felt Jiannu immediately merge with her. It just made sense to reply as one self.


    Hi Anda! Yay! I¡¯m so excited for you! I like exclamation points! I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t want to tell me where you are for reasons that make sense to you. The good news is that I probably don¡¯t need help from the Renaissance to find Attaboy. I have a Plan. Well, really, my friend Magpie and I have a plan. We¡¯re going to steal the data from Sinaloa on the Inside. Maybe you can join us, if you¡¯re ready by then. I can¡¯t imagine how Nandi is going to deal with you and the Trial, since you already know too much. Do you think your experience will start from scratch since you have a new system? Oh! You can meet my trainer! I bet she can help you if you need it. Even though you¡¯re way too old for the Academy (sorry!), I get the feeling she doesn¡¯t care much about that kind of thing. I¡¯m pretty sure you can¡¯t enter the Academy building, but I can meet you in town. Find Mr. Sennit if you need to leave me a message- he¡¯s a weaver who has a booth in the market square. Bye!


    p.s. Ask if you have any questions about the system. It can get a little crazy!


    With the reply out of the way, she split herself again and went back to training and cultivating. She spent a few more hours exploring the city for good places to train and found a gym that still had weight training equipment, which she played around with for a while. Then a sprint in the dark back to the monastery for some food and sleep.


    ***


    The next day, she rose bright and early. Due to the odd hour-difference in the length of the day between Outside and Inside, it was just before sunset when she logged in, which was a little annoying.


    At least the week has the same number of days. Doesn¡¯t it?


    She searched her internet memory for the basic calendar information she had never bothered to learn. It turned out that the Inside had one six-day week every four weeks or so, to stay roughly in sync with the Outside. The whole system dated back to the 2030s, when the DayNight game was made accessible to the entire globe on distributed satellite server networks. It kept any one time zone from feeling favored.


    By making them all grumpy.


    The days of the week usually just translated into whatever language was being used, though the Insiders and some Outsiders preferred to number them: first-day, second-day, third-day and so forth. Today was First-day, which more or less aligned with Monday on the Outside. In the early days, Outsiders played the most on weekends, so Monday became the de facto day of rest.


    She headed for town, eager to see how Mr. Sennit was doing. As she approached his stand, she saw a long line of students waiting to see him. She skipped past the line to see Mr. Sennit arguing with an older boy.


    ¡°Look Tama, I can¡¯t braid it that short. You¡¯re just going to have to visit the character screen and grow it out¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just try?¡± the boy whined. ¡°I waited for an hour.¡± He had the pouting expression of entitlement. He also had short hair.


    ¡°Next!¡± Mr. Sennit called past him. A girl with long brown locks pushed past the boy with a sniff and sat in a chair that was placed in front of the little stand. Lilijoy waited for him to start combing out her hair before announcing her presence.


    ¡°You look really busy, Mr. Sennit.¡±


    He gave a little nod. ¡°Like crazy, Poki. I keep raising prices and they keep coming.¡±


    He directed his attention to the girl in front of him. ¡°Miss, you have your potion?¡±


    She sighed and rolled her eyes, before producing a small blue vial and handing it to him.


    ¡°Much obliged.¡± He turned back to Lilijoy. ¡°Pretty clever, eh? I kept running out of mana, so now they have to bring me a mid-level mana potion as part of the cost. Keeps me topped up.¡± He leaned over and whispered in her ear. ¡°Plus, I get a cut from the potion lady.¡± He gave a little cackle and got back to his work. ¡°Alright, Miss, just one moment¡­ his hands blurred, and the soft light flowed, and the girl¡¯s hair was braided and on her head in two large ovals. Lilijoy inspected his work as he drank the potion.


    <hr>


    Blossom Braids


    Woven by a master, these braids will raise INV by 20


    Effects last 10 days


    <hr>


    ¡°Wow, Mr. Sennit,¡± she exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten better at this.¡±


    ¡°Lots of practice, Poki. Haven¡¯t figured how to get the damage protection from magic like I did for your friend though. I¡¯m thinking that was something special about her hair.¡±


    He held up a mirror for the girl, who turned her head to the sides and then gave a little nod. ¡°Fifteen silver please,¡± he said. She paid, and the next in line, a hulking warrior type, pulled his hair out of the loose bun on the back of his head and took the chair after tossing the potion vial to Mr. Sennit.


    Lilijoy could see a good-sized pile of empty vials forming behind the stand.


    ¡°So how¡¯s your Hand Weaving coming along, eh? You ready to help? These tired old hands need some rest.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Mr Sennit. I¡¯m still only at apprentice level.¡± Lilijoy was actually rather proud that she had raised her level to apprentice already. She wasn¡¯t so sure that Rosemallow would look kindly on her raising the Magi component though, so she was still on Natural for that.


    ¡°Heh, you hear that, Ulu tele?¡± he said to his client. ¡°Apprentice already. I taught her her first knot you know.¡±


    The boy, or man really, grunted. ¡°Cool. Not too girly with the hair, okay?¡±


    ¡°Heh. You got some island in you, Bro?¡±


    ¡°This and that. Filipino mostly.¡±


    ¡°Hear that, Poki? Like your friend.¡±


    For a moment, Lilijoy thought he was talking about Jess. Then it clicked. ¡°Oh, you mean Magpie. I think she¡¯s from some pacific island.¡±


    Mr. Sennit snorted. ¡°That girl? No how, no way. Not by blood anyway.¡± He finished combing. ¡°Hold on for a second, this takes a little more focus.¡± Soon the man¡¯s hair was in tight braided rows down his scalp connecting into a series of shorter projecting braids. Lilijoy though it made his head look a bit like an octopus, but he seemed happy.


    <hr>


    Warrior¡¯ Braids


    Woven by a master, these braids will raise INV by 15 and POW by 5


    Effects last ten days


    <hr>


    As he received payment, Mr. Sennit addressed the line waiting for his services. ¡°Folks, it¡¯s my dinner time. I¡¯ll be back in thirty.¡± There was much muttering, but he ignored it and turned back to Lilijoy. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to raise prices again. Now, show me what you learned.¡±


    Lilijoy followed him behind his stand and showed him some of the braiding patterns she had learned. He gave her some pointers and taught her a bit more about working with grass and reeds, showing her knotting techniques appropriate to the materials.


    ¡°Never going to run out of grass, eh?¡± he said. He also helped her understand how to hold and manage multiple threads and passed on some of his tricks for staying oriented during larger projects. ¡°Now, Poki, you figure out how to weave a ball with no gaps, no holes. Except one at the top for water, ok? It¡¯s a good project. You give it your best and bring what you have next time.¡±


    ¡°You mean it needs to hold water?¡± Lilijoy didn¡¯t see how it would be possible with just grass.


    ¡°Yup. Longer the water stays in, the better the weave.¡±


    It was time for Mr. Sennit to return to his work. Just as Lilijoy was walking away, he called out to her.


    ¡°Almost forgot something. You and your friends want to make a little silver on the side?¡±


    Silver sounded good to Lilijoy. ¡°Doing what?¡±


    He gestured for her to come back and spoke in a low voice. ¡°Me and some of the other crafters in town got to talking. A bunch of us need more mana in our Mana Wells. My weaves aren¡¯t even half as strong as they could be. We were thinking to hire some students to help us level up a bit, cause ain¡¯t none of us fighting types.¡±


    He looked down at the ground. ¡°We want to keep it quiet though, stay off the clan¡¯s radar. They still got a lot of leverage on us. Figure we can pay off a bunch of debt all at once, maybe move our families on the Outside.¡± He dropped his voice to a whisper. ¡°Poki, I¡¯m making gold. Made more in the last week than the last two years. You changed my life, my family¡¯s life. Not just me either. I¡¯m spreading it around, slow-like, the credits and the knowledge.¡±


    He looked up at her and his eyes were serious. ¡°Got some changes happening here, but I gotta think that the clans aren¡¯t going to like it. Can¡¯t be the first time someone¡¯s figured this out. I¡¯ve heard of plenty of those that stuck up getting hammered down.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m getting ahead of myself. You ask your friends, see if they¡¯re interested in helping, okay?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, Mr. Sennit. You don¡¯t really have to fight and kill monsters to get experience though. It¡¯s novelty, challenge, suffering, inspiration and discovery.¡±


    ¡°Yup, we know. We all pooled our knowledge, and asked some of the insiders too. What they say is, more of those things there are, the better the gains. It¡¯s not suffering by itself, it¡¯s suffering that teaches you something new. Discover something new, that¡¯s not bad. Suffer and struggle on your way, discover something from the journey and be inspired to make something new? That¡¯ll check all the boxes. Turns out that exploring and fighting, adventuring they call it, is just about the fastest way, specially if you¡¯re old like me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never understood why suffering is one of the components.¡± Lilijoy said.


    Mr. Sennit¡¯s expression turned distant and a bit sad.


    ¡°Oh, Poki. You¡¯re so young. You¡¯ll learn.¡± He looked away from her, but she could see his eyes water.


    ¡°That¡¯s the most important one.¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 31: Narrative

    Interlude: Attaboy


    There were too many dreams.


    Dreams about people long dead. Parents, teachers, friends, enemies.


    A sister.


    Dreams about fighting. Dreams about loving. Dreams in which he was doing things he couldn¡¯t begin to understand.


    It was too much. He had finally forbidden Dijiann from showing him any more memories.


    He was almost glad now that Right Hand hadn¡¯t accepted Atticus as his name. Being Atticus reborn was fine in theory, but he also wanted to keep being Attaboy. There was so much more Atticus, so many years of memories, that he felt like he could be washed away at any moment.


    It wasn¡¯t just the dreams that caused Attaboy¡¯s head to hurt, and gut to burn either. Now, Doctor Quimea was frustrated with their sessions. Dijiann helped Attaboy make everything about the system as confusing as possible for the Doctor. Sometimes he gave Attaboy random strings of letters and numbers to tell him. Or fake messages, like, ¡°Authority exceeded, please supply administration level password.¡±


    It had worked for a while, but Doctor Quimea was becoming more pointed in his questioning. Attaboy was afraid that he suspected something. He was afraid the Doctor would just give up and cut his head open.


    The best thing in Attaboy¡¯s life was no longer the sword training. That was just another frustrating exercise in pretending to be something he was not.


    No. The best thing in life was anime.


    Dijiann had helped Attaboy to contact something called the ¡®Internet Archive'' channel. While most of it was endless, boring text, there was also a whole world of amazing anime cartoons to watch. Some of them had been in Atticus¡¯ memory-dreams as well. Every chance Attaboy got, he sat by the window of his room and immersed himself in worlds where the heroes were young, like him. They had powers, they had strength. They had determination.


    He wanted to be like them.


    Believe it.


    <hr>


    Chapter 31: Narrative


    After a night of her own training, Lilijoy was up before dawn standing with Rosemallow and Jessila by the obstacle course.


    The term ¡®obstacle¡¯ didn¡¯t really do the course justice, except for the easier sections designed for the least advanced students. Now that she thought about it, the term ¡®course¡¯ wasn¡¯t adequate either. The sprawling area was more of a complex, with hundreds of progressively difficult impediments.


    There were the expected pits, walls and rope courses at the beginning, but as the course progressed its contents grew and mutated into intimidating edifices of peril. By the end of the course, some of the obstacles were downright horrifying, with the kinds of active traps and dangers found in the most treacherous dungeons.


    She supposed it made sense. What kind of training would it be if the students weren¡¯t prepared for the types of dangers they might find? Still, even Rosemallow had yet to encourage Lilijoy or Jess to go past the midway point.


    ¡°There¡¯s suffering and dying that teaches you something, and then there¡¯s just plain stupid dying.¡± Her trainer had said when they first approached the course the previous week. ¡°I suppose you¡¯d learn something from it eventually, so feel free to try on your own time.¡±


    Neither Lilijoy nor Jessila had yet been so inspired. One look at the giant spinning saws, revolving spiked tunnels and fiery pits found toward the end of the course was enough. They would stick to non-lethal tests of their agility.


    At the moment, Rosemallow was talking, and Lilijoy wasn¡¯t paying attention. Instead she was thinking about forming a learning cohort with Skria and Jess and herself, and maybe Magpie too, to guide the under-leveled crafters through some of the easier scenarios and dungeons. Skria and Jess had been excited by the idea, especially since their last experience term had been so dismal. Magpie, as usual, was nowhere to be found, though Lilijoy was confident she would see her at their regular planning time in the mystic library.


    ¡°...tournament...¡± intruded on her awareness briefly, and she turned her ears to Rosemallow. ¡°...unranked for the fourth cohort, I have entered both of you in the preliminaries, which start on fourth-day of the second week of experience term. You will both be capped at level ten until the following class term. Understood?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded, planning to review her sense recording later in case she had missed something vital. She felt pretty lukewarm about the whole tournament thing anyway. They seemed more like a chance for the clan kids to show off and raise their profiles. Since that was pretty much the opposite of what she wanted, she decided to ask her teacher if she could just skip them.


    ¡°After the tournament, I expect both of you will be raised to the Third Cohort. This means that you, Jessila, will need to gain sufficient experience points to reach level eleven over experience term.¡±


    She turned her third eye to Lilijoy and sighed. ¡°You, on the other hand, need to focus on combat skills. Your damage output is too low to do more than annoy an opponent with decent Invulnerability. Against someone like Jessila in real combat, you would be completely helpless without a high-quality weapon. Any questions? Save them for later.¡±


    She clapped her hands together. ¡°Jessila, catch Lily without harming her. Lily¡­¡± She stopped for a moment and drew a four-foot diameter circle on the ground with her foot. ¡°Resist with all means at your disposal, other than Charm, without leaving this circle. Begin!¡±


    Lilijoy did have many questions, but she had learned not to test Rosemallow¡¯s patience. Plus, Jessila was eyeing her while stretching her shoulders.


    Yeah, this is going to be a rough one.


    ***


    An hour later, Lilijoy finally got to ask Rosemallow some questions while Jessila worked the obstacle course.


    ¡°Master, I was wondering if I could raise my crafting skill?¡±


    Rosemallow stared down at her. Without looking up, she whipped a stone across her body, hitting Jessila just as she was leaping for a dangling rope. Bending to gather a new missile from the small pile at her feet, she grunted.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    There was a crash and a muffled groan as Jessila missed the rope and fell behind the edge of the ramp from which she had leapt. ¡°Dodge faster!¡± Rosemallow yelled over her shoulder as she watched for a reply from Lilijoy.


    ¡°Um¡­¡± For some reason, Lilijoy had failed to anticipate the rather obvious question. Because it would be cool, probably wouldn¡¯t get very far.


    ¡°Um¡­ because I figured out Qi imbued strikes today?¡±


    This was true, as far as it went. Unlike a Qi strike, which projected energy out of her hand or foot, a Qi imbued strike was limited to physical contact; it simply added to the force of a normal blow. Unfortunately, she had the same problem with juggling her Qi and Power that she did with Flash, so she wasn¡¯t able to stack the damage bonuses.


    ¡°You mean like everyone else who has studied Unarmed Combat for more than a couple weeks? Do it while you¡¯re in Flash, and then I¡¯ll be mildly less unimpressed.¡±


    Using her Qi and Flash at the same time was still problematic. She had hoped that her new mental speed would allow her to crack the problem, but so far, the morning¡¯s training had been disappointing in that regard. It was one more sign that the speed of her thoughts and a huge repository of knowledge were no substitute for experience.


    The problem was still that Flash mana interfered with her ability to draw and focus the Qi mana within her body. She had even considered enlisting Jiannu¡¯s help to run the Qi while she did the Flash but decided it would probably be better to figure it out properly. Besides, she could remember doing a ton of great cultivating over the last few hours and didn¡¯t want to interrupt.


    Rosemallow returned her attention to throwing more stones at Jessila. It almost seemed unfair to Lilijoy. In order for the stones to have any impact against Jessila¡¯s extraordinary toughness, Rosemallow had to throw them at velocities which made dodging nearly impossible.


    Lilijoy tried again. ¡°Because I could weave magic weapons and armor?¡±


    Rosemallow juggled the stone she was about to throw, before casting a skeptical glance. ¡°Such as¡­¡±


    Here, Lilijoy was prepared. She had devoted quite a bit of thought to the combat applications of magical hand weaving. ¡°A sling, or a whip. Or what about woven chain mail? There¡¯s no reason I couldn¡¯t use metal wires to weave.¡±


    ¡°And do you know how to weave something like that?¡± Another stone whistled through the air.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°Well¡­ I can learn?¡±


    ¡°Let me know when you have. Better yet, bring me a proof of concept, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    She turned away, then smacked herself on the head. ¡°But good thing you mentioned slings. I¡¯ve got a friend coming by later. He¡¯ll show you the ropes. Ha!¡±


    Rosemallow punning was never a good sign. ¡°Where should I meet him?¡±


    A large hand was waved. ¡°How should I know? It¡¯ll all work out.¡± Rosemallow considered for a moment and then relented. ¡°Just come out here after lunch.¡±


    ¡°And Master, about the tournament...¡±


    ¡°Exciting eh? Nothing like a little single combat to get the blood pumping!¡±


    ¡°Um. Sure? But also, can I not do it?¡±


    A look of utter incomprehension began to cross Rosemallow¡¯s face, so Lilijoy hurried to explain.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep my abilities secret for now, and I don¡¯t want to draw attention to myself. Imagine how surprised everyone will be when I finally do one!¡±


    Lilijoy had no particular intention of ever doing one if she could keep coming up with excuses, but she figured Rosemallow would be more agreeable if she sounded excited.


    The look of incomprehension changed to suspicion.


    ¡°Is this about the levels, kid?¡±


    ¡°No, I promise.¡±


    ¡°Aw, I was really looking forward to seeing you kick some clan butt.¡± Rosemallow kicked at the ground. ¡°Fine. Not everyone''s cup of tea anyway.¡±


    Well that was easy?


    ¡°Yes, Master. Also...¡±


    Rosemallow preempted her. ¡°No, there¡¯s no point in raising your Acrobatics until you have raised your Power. Wait until it¡¯s twenty points or so. Now go shred some practice dummies with Qi strikes; you need to work on extending your range if you want them to work right.¡±


    Over the past week of training, Lilijoy had been able to get her Qi strikes to extend half a foot from her fist. According to Rosemallow, this was virtually useless.


    ¡°Losing the strength damage bonus for six inches of range isn¡¯t a good trade-off. Besides, the real advantage is that pure Qi damage is not affected by Invulnerability. But you have to get it past their armor for it to do you any good,¡± she had explained. ¡°In a fight against a large opponent, the knock-back will be minimal, at least until you hit Expert. What you really need is the ability to keep a little distance so you can make use of your mobility and compensate for your tiny reach.¡±


    These words running through her head, Lilijoy made her way to the row of wooden dummies at the side of the obstacle course. Her goal was to raise her range to a foot by the end of the week.


    No problem, she thought. It¡¯s only an inch a day. In fact, it would make more sense for her to work on using Qi and Flash at the same time. Once she could do that, her training could go even faster.


    She moved into Flash, but barely, at the lowest level she could manage. With her brain in overdrive, she watched the flow of mana to her limbs. Maybe the problem was less that she didn¡¯t understand Qi, and more that she didn¡¯t understand Flash?


    Sure, she had gotten good at using it, but her understanding lagged far behind her intuition. She turned off Flash, and watched the mana recede, then turned it on again. It wasn¡¯t instantaneous, though it was close. With her mind processing about ten times faster than normal, she could watch the energy spread from her core to her toes and fingertips over less than a tenth of a second.


    I wonder if I can slow it down?


    Her first attempts to slow it down failed. The Flash mana was slippery and light; it was a bit like trying to slow the wind. She focused her attention on her core and tried to see just how the Flash was escaping. It was leaving her core somehow, and held in by something when not in use, so what exactly was changing when she activated it? Or what changed as she used more or less of it? After all, her core wasn¡¯t a solid container, like a bottle or something, so what kept the energy in?


    One of the neat things she had noticed about the Inside was the way details worked, emerging more clearly as she focused. With sufficient attention, she could even catch the process at work as the particulars were created and rendered. She was pretty sure that the speed at which that occurred was calibrated to normal human perception, because now that hers was much faster she could catch the Inside in the act of creation.


    A bit of experimentation found that an area¡¯s details stayed constant after they were determined, rendering to her senses almost instantantly even after several days. She couldn¡¯t say for sure it was permanent, but it seemed likely. It seemed like a parallel to the Reality Bender achievement; when the Inside needed to develop new rules or details, it did so on the fly, and those details became a permanent fixture of the world.


    With this in mind, she looked closely at the swirling energy of her core. It reminded her very much of the vortex in her soul space. She guessed that the spinning was created by equal amounts of attraction and repulsion. Or maybe there was momentum involved, like in the solar system.


    Just how did her mind connect to the core to pull energy out of it?


    Maybe she was overthinking things. The Inside was a simulated reality after all; there didn¡¯t need to be a physics-based answer for every mechanic. Though she had noted that Guardian had included as much physics modeling as possible, at least in this part of the Inside. She guessed that it was just more efficient to derive consequences of actions by logical rules.


    What set the Inside apart was that one could connect thoughts to events without the need for a physical explanation. But it didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t rules governing the interaction. Guardian must have some way to measure the intensity, the specificity of thought for all of the magical aspects of the Inside. What she needed to do was figure out how to get her system to provide exactly the correct output for whatever information Guardian was gathering.


    Clearly it didn¡¯t relate to speed of processing, or she would have become massively more effective at mana manipulation. That left some kind of measure of intensity of thought. But she doubted it was enough to just think harder. The real question was what to think, and the clarity, the specificity of the thought.


    Specificity.


    That was the answer. She had been trying to perform a task without any clarity as to what she was doing, which was certainly understandable. After all, wasn¡¯t that the learning process? Flailing around, trying to connect what you were doing to loosely defined goals, until you knew enough to refine the goals and make the flailing more efficient. A master of a subject understood what they were trying to do at least as well as the means to do it.


    Now that she thought it through, it was clear that she needed to define what she wanted to do internally, rather than externally. If she got the internal state correct, the rest would follow.


    So how could she imagine something she hadn¡¯t experienced? She realized that emotions played a powerful role in defining the process. If she was uncertain, insecure or afraid of failure, even at an unconscious level, there would be a negative feedback loop sabotaging her thought process, limiting her imagination. The self-reinforcing walls of narrative that defined the self also contained and limited her ability to imagine actions and abilities that were not currently a part of her identity.


    She thought of Mr. Sennit. He had probably dreamed of making lots of gold his entire life, but he couldn¡¯t do it until he was acted upon by an outside force, her in this case. He could imagine in a general way, fantasizing, but specific thoughts, the kind that led to actions, threatened his self-narrative and were avoided, probably before they even reached his awareness.


    True power is the ability to change your self-narrative. But surely it couldn¡¯t be that simple?


    Then she thought of the raw, primal terror of loss of identity she had experienced in her soul space. That was the power of the self-narrative, stronger than transitory thoughts and goals, rooted in the bedrock of how consciousness worked, wired down to the sense of self-preservation inherent in all life. Yes, it was that simple, but identity was a highly resilient system of feedback loops reinforcing each other. Push it off course, and it would find its way back to the center. Its guardians were emotions.


    Words floated into her awareness.


    A story told to a story


    Heard by the story telling it


    Forms a castle of itself


    And its emergent inevitables


    Disgust the very stones of its defense


    And the blade of its discernment


    Bliss when the swirling stories feed it


    Reinforce its walls with layers of recognition


    Rage when stories bite the truth of self


    Threatening the walls of reinforcement


    Pain the recognition of holes that must be healed


    Teacher and traitor, always the last to arrive


    We are


    A boat made from water


    A bird made from air


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but notice what you were thinking about,¡± said Jiannu. ¡°I felt inspired to poetry for some reason. Maybe it¡¯s all the right-brain circuits.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lovely poem,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°If I may so myself.¡±


    Jiannu laughed. ¡°It just kind of popped out. It¡¯s a bit clunky here and there, and I¡¯m still working on the end though.¡±


    ¡°Not enough elements?¡±


    ¡°Something like that. Let me know if you think of anything for earth and fire.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think anything else would be forcing it anyway.¡±


    Jiannu thought for a moment. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right. Anyway, I was thinking that we have something pretty amazing here. Leverage, I guess you could call it. We can be each other¡¯s outside force.¡±


    ¡°You mean we can push off of each other to change faster.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! And we have the tools to disable unconscious emotional limitations. I can take away fear when it¡¯s harmful, or disgust when needed.¡±


    ¡°Or even remove the positive reinforcement from harmful actions,¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°I¡¯m almost sad we¡¯re not addicted to something so that we could try it out.¡±


    ¡°But you can also make things that are good for me pleasurable.¡±


    ¡°It almost feels like cheating, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, except...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more like everyone else should be able to do this,¡± Jiannu finished for her.


    ¡°Control their own emotions at a chemical level.¡±


    ¡°Except, take someone like Mo.¡±


    They both shuddered.


    ¡°He reinforced the worst parts of himself. His narrative was in control of his system, so he removed everything that got in the way of his desires.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t have you.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t have me,¡± Jiannu agreed.


    After the conversation with Jiannu, Lilijoy returned to her task. It was much simpler, now that she knew she needed to find the correct internal visualization and imagine it extremely vividly, to put her whole heart into it. If she was incorrect, that was fine. She would simply try something else. Jiannu could help if necessary, removing the sting of failure, reinforcing the joy in the process, helping her vault the walls of self.


    Indeed, her first attempt, where she tried to separate the Flash mana and Qi into different types of energy, failed utterly, even though she had specified every detail of how it would look and feel. Instead of feeling disappointed by the failure, she felt jubilant.


    I¡¯m narrowing it down.


    She took another minute to meditate on the nature of the energy she was dealing with.


    It¡¯s light, fast and likes to move. Even in my core, it swirls. What keeps the core separate, what defines it, is not the material, but the motion.


    She imagined the energy for the Qi strike as a tightly spiraling vortex, a continuation of the core motion but compressed to a high velocity as it flowed into her arm and out her hand.


    This is it!


    Doubt was impossible. She brought herself into Flash and struck out toward the training dummy. Her Qi energy blasted through the Flash permeating her body and exited her palm, knocking off chips of wood and rocking the dummy on its post. She did it again, and again, each time backing away just a little farther. The spiral allowed the Qi to maintain its force for a much greater distance, and by the time she had reached the edge of her new effective range, about four feet, the training dummy was a hunk of shredded wood canted at a thirty-degree angle away from her.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about!¡± roared Rosemallow from across the way. ¡°That was at least ten Qi strikes in a few seconds.¡± Her voice sounded uncharacteristically excited. ¡°We¡¯ve got to train twice as hard now to get you to Journeyman!¡±


    Now I¡¯ve done it.

 Book 2: Ch. 32: Game

    The air reeked of brine and decay on the canted deck of the former offshore drilling platform. The sound of sea birds fighting over the bodies of jellyfish stranded on the vast tidal plain washed over Magpie as she sat in the pale sunlight. This had been her home, off and on, for much of her life, the vast stinking field of mud and shallow water created by the receding waters of the South China Sea.


    Over the years, she had tried to imagine what it was like before the ice caps claimed the oceans. Where she was sitting, nearly a hundred meters above the muck, had once been under hundreds of meters of deep blue water. If she wanted, she could walk from Manila to Singapore, though it would be a monumentally treacherous and disgusting journey. Her home used to float, but now it towered, its weighted pontoons sunk deeply into the former sea floor. Soon the tide would come in and the waters would stretch as far as the eye could see. When that happened, the platform became the roost to tens of thousands of noisy, defecating gulls and terns.


    Some flock indeed, she thought.


    The noise of the birds, the stench of the tidal flats and the deep layer of guano all around her would normally bother Magpie, but now these disgusting elements of her environment couldn¡¯t overcome her immense feeling of satisfaction.


    I¡¯ve finally done it, she thought. Those bastards aren¡¯t going to know what hit them.


    It had been a tough couple of weeks, obtaining intelligence, making connections and laying plans for what should have been an impossible operation. It had used every ounce of her abilities and energy to find the people who knew the people who knew the information that allowed her to even begin to plan a physical, well, virtually physical, infiltration of the Sinaloa holding in Averdale. It had only been possible because virtually everyone hated Sinaloa.


    She judged that gathering intelligence on any other clan would have been an order of magnitude more difficult. Though she had started with almost no contacts on the Inside, her trainer and immediate Flock supervisor, Buzzard had been a wealth of information and connection to the various groups and factions resisting Sinaloan expansion in the Forest of Averdale. The most promising were the Wraiths of Averdale, a group of young and powerful Insiders, entirely not actual wraiths as far as she knew, who lived in the forest surrounding Sinaloa¡¯s area of control. She was confident they would be willing to provide a distraction for her and Lilijoy.


    Her Outside connections were equally helpful. She had called upon all her old trainers, except Raven of course, to put her in touch with individuals in the SamGor clan. They had a long history with Sinaloa, had even nearly merged with them at one point before becoming bitter enemies. Initially suspicious, they had been willing to share some of their less sensitive information. That in turn had allowed her to connect to the Averdale Liberation Front, a group of ostensibly unaffiliated Outsiders who had made it their life¡¯s work to punish Sinaloa for displacing the Elves. Magpie was pretty sure they were actually supported by several other clans behind the scenes, including SamGor.


    Whatever their origins, the A.L.F. had agreed to step up their activities for the next week in return for any intelligence Magpie could gather. The linchpin of Magpie¡¯s success in convincing them was the nature of Sinaloa¡¯s defensive perimeter.


    In addition to their physical defenses, walls and so forth, Sinaloa had implemented magic wards that responded to the level of any intruder. Magpie had been unable to obtain the precise details, but it was common with such systems to ignore lower level creatures to avoid constant false alarms from forest creatures and low-level retainers. Magpie had studied the magical theory behind similar systems extensively and guessed that she and Lilijoy would be able to pass undetected, or at least without creating a major alarm.


    Pays to be weak sometimes, I guess.


    Her new contact at A.L.F. certainly thought so; she was all too happy to let a couple noobs mess with Sinaloa. Magpie figured that her contact wasn¡¯t really taking her very seriously, but rather was happy to have a new excuse for some action. That was fine by her.


    As the sun set, she stood and looked to the horizon, out over the millions of feasting birds.


    Look at all that biomass.


    She cursed the birds every time she had to navigate through the mounds and layers of guano on the deck, but the thought of harming them never crossed her mind. Life was far too precious, especially since humanity had been up against the cap from Rule 1c for decades now. Just thinking about the rule was enough for it to briefly flash on her display.


    <hr>


    1c. Sentient biological organisms shall never exceed one part in a hundred thousand of total planetary biomass


    <hr>


    It made her wonder how Guardian kept track of it all. What if there was a forest fire? Would some random population need to be culled to keep the proper proportion?


    Shaking her head, she turned her thoughts back to the infiltration plans. Or tried to anyway. She found herself drawn to thoughts of magic.


    The tides were coming in, just a trickle of tiny waves flowing over the mud, but already enough to catch the feeble red light of the setting sun.


    I could go under there, she thought, momentarily ignoring the fact that the water was only inches deep.


    I could breathe under there if I was Inside. Maybe after this I could go under the ocean and finally breathe.


    ***


    The next days of classes flew by, in no large part due to the looming operation against the Sinaloa clan. One wrinkle in the plans had been Rosemallow¡¯s response when Lilijoy tentatively broached the subject.


    ¡°Great!¡± The huge Oni had bellowed. ¡°Take Jessila. Don¡¯t get captured.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Lilijoy tried to figure out how to explain that Jessila was not, perhaps, ideally suited for a stealth mission. One that probably involved Elves, no less.


    ¡°Don¡¯t care. Figure it out.¡± Her trainer pulled a round, fist sized object from her inventory. ¡°Take this to help.¡±


    It was a dull-gray metal sphere. Lilijoy scanned it.


    <hr>


    Chaotic Gravity Grenade


    Created by a Master Smith and a Grand Master Earth Mage


    This grenade will randomly change the gravity in a 15


    foot radius from .01x to 3x normal every 5 to 20 seconds.


    Five minutes per charge, two charges remaining.


    <hr>


    This... Lilijoy took a moment to realize that Rosemallow must have been planning this for some time.


    ¡°That¡¯s your little ace in the hole," the Oni continued. "You and Jessila have been training under those conditions. You will need to bring in the rest of your cohort for sessions so they can adapt. I don¡¯t care how strong the fighter or powerful the mage, if they aren¡¯t used to working under changing gravity conditions, they¡¯ll be at a disadvantage.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Master Rosemallow! How do I turn it on?¡±


    ¡°Just feed it some mana and it will activate. I would keep it on you, rather than throwing it, not least because I want it back for sentimental reasons. Made it with my brother.¡±


    Lilijoy felt her jaw drop a little. ¡°Were you the...¡±


    ¡°No more questions, Three Bites. Go beat up Jessila some more.¡±


    The power dynamic had changed in the sparring between Lilijoy and Jess. With Lilijoy¡¯s new ability to combine Qi strikes and Flash, she could stay out of reach and pepper the larger girl with Qi blasts, which ignored Invulnerability. Jess was extraordinarily fast for her size, or any size really, but she was no match for Lilijoy¡¯s combination of speed and acrobatics. On the rare occasions she did get a hand on her, the fight would naturally go Jessila¡¯s way, as Lilijoy¡¯s grappling skills weren¡¯t nearly enough to overcome the difference in strength and mass.


    Needless to say, Magpie was not thrilled by the addition to their little team. Her initial words on the subject were unkind, to say the least, and Lilijoy was very glad that Jess had not been present to hear them. This was only compounded by Skria¡¯s insistence that she would go wherever Jessila did, which added a fourth member to the team. However, when Magpie heard about Skria¡¯s abilities, she was mollified to a large extent.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± Skria said, under Magpie¡¯s somewhat hostile interrogation of her prowess. ¡°I¡¯ve got a pretty good poison gas spell and a strong wind spell that I¡¯ve known forever. Then there¡¯s the silence spell and the vacuum spell I learned last week. Those are still new, so they¡¯re not great. I''ve got some stealth. I can fly. I mean, technically it¡¯s gliding, but I can control the wind around me, so I do okay. I¡¯m not bad with herbs and natural poisons for my darts.¡±


    She took a breath and looked up a Jessila, ¡°Did I miss anything?¡±


    ¡°Bird.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. I have a level ten shadow owl as a companion animal. His name is Swoot.¡±


    ¡°Climb.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Jess. I guess I though it was obvious. I can climb.¡±


    Jess grunted.


    ¡°What? Oh fine. I¡¯m an Illustrious Master in Climbing. It¡¯s a Petauran thing, like the Gliding. And the Acrobatics.¡±


    Here, Lilijoy felt compelled to jump in. ¡°Wait. Are Petaurans the tree folk who live in the canopies of the southern jungle by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, I guess you could call us...¡±


    Lilijoy squeed, just a little. ¡°My acrobatics instructor told me about that. He thinks I should spend an experience term living there. How did I not realize? That¡¯s so awesome! Do you think...¡±


    ¡°That next term we can go visit my family? Yes!¡± interrupted Skria. The two small people danced around holding hands while Jess and Magpie looked at each other over their heads and rolled their eyes.


    Eventually Magpie interrupted. ¡°So how is it that you have all these high-level spells at...¡± she squinted at Skria, ¡°...level eight?¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Skria stopped dancing and looked a little embarrassed. ¡°I¡¯m a bit of a prodigy, I guess. I was born with a super high air affinity, and I bonded my source when I was little, totally by accident. The rest just kind of followed. Then I defended all the other kids in my tribe when we were attacked by some nasty shadow owls, that¡¯s when I met Swoot by the way, so that¡¯s when I got my titles and got tempered.¡±


    ¡°You have titles?¡± Magpie asked. She had only been half awake when she first met Skria, and didn¡¯t remember her introduction.


    Skria looked even more embarrassed. She didn¡¯t say anything, just gestured to the air above her head, inviting them to scan her.


    <hr>


    Name: Skria Panadan the Fierce, Sky Rider


    Level: 8


    <hr>


    ¡°No way!¡± Magpie chuckled. ¡°Skria the Fierce. Nice.¡±


    Skria looked at her with suspicion, perhaps searching for mockery. Lilijoy could imagine that the cute, small and furry girl with huge eyes might have a little trouble being taken seriously. She could relate, other than the cute and furry part.


    ¡°I mean, I only got the Deathless title which, let¡¯s face it, is pretty lame. No heroics required, just don¡¯t die.¡± Magpie shrugged.


    ¡°What happens when you finally die?¡± asked Lilijoy. ¡°Does the title change?¡±


    ¡°Never thought about it. Maybe I¡¯ll become ¡®Magpie the mostly deathless¡¯¡±


    ¡°or somewhat surviving!¡±


    Now it was Skria and Jessila¡¯s turn to roll their eyes.


    ***


    After Magpie finally wrapped her head around the team¡¯s new members, they began train together in earnest. The majority of each day, and a good chunk of the night as well, was used to learn each other¡¯s strengths and weaknesses in a variety of challenges created by Rosemallow. The shifting gravity was particularly brutal for Skria, who would sometimes end up plastered against the ground if she was caught in mid flight by a shift to the higher levels.


    Skria was there less often than they would have liked, as her advisor, Dean Reunification, kept her busy with other studies, but she was able to escape often enough that the four developed a decent level of teamwork. It was a good thing too, as it turned out that Skria¡¯s magic abilities were central to their combat style. Her poison gas cloud was much more versatile than Lilijoy expected; she could create a variety of different toxins, to damage, blind, disorient and render opponents unconscious.


    The biggest problem was that the gasses also affected the other team members. One memorable debacle was the time Rosemallow had them practice running the obstacle course with gravity shifted wildly, while under the influence of a particularly nasty hallucinogenic gas Skria had cooked up. That episode ended with Magpie running off into the woods, Jessila curled up in a mud pit, and Lilijoy swinging and spinning herself over and over on one of the hanging ropes, shouting, ¡°I¡¯m a pretty butterfly!¡± Skria could keep the gasses away from herself with her control of wind, but she hadn¡¯t learned yet how to protect the rest of the party.


    Eventually, they figured out how to make use of narrow corridors of clear air that Skria could carve out of the larger cloud and Magpie was able to procure a mask for herself that could filter out the worst of the effects. They all spent quite a bit of time doing their best to resist the various effects and learning to stay focused under the influence of the gasses that caused hallucinations, sleepiness and similar mental effects.


    ¡°Remember,¡± Rosemallow advised, ¡°Opponents with high Vitality or another Air mage will neutralize this approach fairly quickly. Use this against larger groups of low level, or to separate high level beings from their supporters.¡±


    One real eye-opener for Lilijoy was sparring with Magpie. She had been feeling pretty good about her fighting skills after learning how to combine Flash and Qi and regularly defeating the mighty Jessila.


    Magpie set her straight on that count quickly.


    Not only was she fast like Lilijoy, her combat skills were on another level entirely. Magpie hadn¡¯t entirely mastered her Qi abilities, so her normal kicks and strikes were often unable to damage Lilijoy, but it made not the slightest difference in the outcome when they sparred unarmed. She was able to anticipate and move around Lilijoy¡¯s Qi strikes and close the distance between them in a fraction of a second. From there, she introduced Lilijoy to the amazing world of submission holds, pressure points and nerve strikes. At times, Lilijoy felt like that first rock golem Rosemallow had dismantled.


    It was embarrassing at first, but not as bad as when they sparred with weapons. Lilijoy hadn¡¯t figured out how to do a Qi strike through a weapon, if it was even possible, so she was left with Qi assisted strikes which did nothing to extend her range or penetrate Magpie¡¯s Invulnerability, had she been able to hit her. After the first few debacles with short swords, Magpie had mercy on her and slowed everything down, becoming more of an instructor than an opponent. She was able to help Lilijoy find a context for the many videos she had watched, and by the end of the week, Lilijoy had raised all her combat abilities.


    <hr>


    Unarmed Combat: Augmented Journeyman (15)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    <hr>


    Not only that, but she had acquired the Weapons: Projectile: Sling skill and leveled it up to Upgraded Initiate. Rosemallow seemed to have no problem with using points to raise combat skills, so Lilijoy had spent a total of eight free points to bring up the Magi portions of the skills, plus another three points to level Stealth to Augmented Apprentice. She now had forty free points remaining and the additional twenty direct free points she had earned from her Reality Bender achievement.


    She was still a little foggy on how the direct free points worked. The most she had been able to glean from a characteristically taciturn Rosemallow was that she should save them for a long, long time, possibly forever. That last part she figured was an exaggeration, though it was hard to tell with Rosemallow sometimes.


    Currently, Lilijoy was clinging to the underside of the second level of hidden walkways above the main room of the Subtle Arts class. From her vantage point about thirty feet above the floor, she could watch the ongoing competition between the best stealthers play out. There was an element of desperation in play now, as the contest could end at any moment, and many students were trying to catch up to the point totals of the leaders, including Lilijoy.


    She had considered abandoning the time-consuming contest altogether, since there were many other priorities in her life, but Magpie had revealed to her that the prize for winning the competition was a Cloak of Shadows. The magical garment would enhance the stealth abilities of the wearer, but more importantly for their purposes, it would also also help conceal someone with no Stealth skill at all. Since Jessila had not been able to achieve the skill despite Lilijoy¡¯s and Magpie¡¯s best efforts, the cloak would be a decent substitute.


    If she could win it.


    Therein lay the problem. Lilijoy was not currently in the lead, or even in the top three. Her many distractions had made it impossible to keep up with the students who were devoting more time and energy. If she was honest with herself, which was all too easy these days, she had become a little complacent, and it had been quite a shock to see that the leader now had almost two hundred points at 198, while she remained at 168. She was now in the position of needing to plant all five of her patches, preferably on those who were ahead of her.


    Which led to her current ploy. Though there was no easy way to tell who was who, as most of the top competitors had taken to wearing hooded shirts and cloaks to conceal their identity, Lilijoy figured that those in the lead would take a conservative approach. She had discovered the first layer of walkways on the very first day, but she hadn¡¯t noticed that there were still more narrow bridges above those until the second week, when she caught a glimpse of a lithe figure climbing up to them with her infrared vision.


    The walkway above her creaked, and she heard a faint scuffle. With her augmented hearing, she tuned in to the faint whisper of breath and a calm heartbeat. Whoever was up there was not utilizing their magi skill, which made sense. Why drain their mana when no one could possibly see them? They didn¡¯t know that they were the prey, and their predator waited just below.


    A commotion broke out on the floor below; probably someone getting caught trying to plant a patch. It was what Lilijoy had been waiting for, though it was not up to her alone. She tuned all her enhanced senses onto the movements above her. If her prey was inclined to move, even just to change position to stretch a muscle, now would be the time.


    The sounds echoed back from the ceiling, and Lilijoy caught a flash of her opponent with her echolocation. It was a girl, and she was crouched on the walkway, peering over at the floor below. Immediately Lilijoy engaged Flash, and increased the speed of her thoughts as much as possible.


    She whipped around to the side opposite from her opponent, and planted a patch on conveniently presented heel of their soft shoe.


    That¡¯s one.


    The patches were thin like silk, and clung easily, so she wasn¡¯t too worried about her opponent noticing. If they did she would know soon enough. Another property of the patches was that they would fade into near invisibility over time, so that stealthers couldn¡¯t just wait until the end of class and remove any that had been planted on them. There was a window of a couple minutes to find them, after which they were undetectable to the person wearing them.


    She waited a few minutes and then did it a second time, glad once again that her body weight was low enough not to shake the hanging walkway as she maneuvered. She almost felt bad for her oblivious prey, secure on her lofty perch as she surveyed the room.


    Lilijoy could only hope that Sinaloa was similarly complacent. Though she wouldn¡¯t feel bad for them if they were.


    Now the only question remaining was how many patches she should plant. All five would give her forty points and subtract the same from her opponent. That would be acceptable if this was indeed the leader, but if her prey was in second or third place, it would leave Lilijoy in a tenuous position, Two hundred and eight points would barely put her into first in the current standings, but the leader would not be idle during that time. Still, this was a sure thing, while finding the other front runners might not be possible, if they were even present in this class period.


    After a third patch was placed, the decision was taken from her, when the girl decided to take advantage of a particularly large commotion on the floor. Lilijoy froze as her former target rose to her feet and gently leapt to the walkways below, landing with silent grace.


    She¡¯s been watching from above for ages. I bet she¡¯ll lead me straight to another front-runner.


    The girl crept down the lower walkway. Lilijoy could tell the moment she engaged her full Stealth skill; she faded into the shadows and became invisible to her eyes, even in infrared.


    She must be at a higher level than me.


    It was impressive that the girl had achieved such a high level in a relatively short time, as everyone had entered the class at Novice or Initiate. Luckily, Lilijoy still had a fix on her target through her echolocation, so she was able to watch as the now indistinct figure inverted and lowered herself from the walkway to reach the hood of another motionless figure on the floor.


    Are her feet glued on? As far as she could tell, her former target was standing upside down on the bottom of the walkway in order to plant a patch on the person below her. There was now no doubt in her mind that this had to be the leader. Former leader. Even with eight more points, her score would only be 182, while Lilijoy should be at 192.


    Just as the girl pulled herself back up to the walkway, the lights came on.


    ¡°Class is over. Please form a line and proceed to the antechamber,¡± came the bored voice of the instructor. ¡°As always, do not remove any patches you may now see.¡±


    There were various groans and gasps as the students saw the patches they had accumulated during the class period. Lilijoy watched her target scanning herself, hoping for a reaction, but the girl didn¡¯t think to check the bottoms of her feet. Feeling a little disappointed, she made her way down and joined the line as casually as she could.


    I hope the instructors think to check there.


    She was more satisfied when the girl came storming out of the antechamber on her way to check the scores, which were still located in the room with four paths. After Lilijoy passed through the inspection, carried out by some of the instructor¡¯s anonymous assistants, she walked to the score board herself, anticipating a reasonable lead for herself.


    Not so much.


    Second place. Her prey had not been the leader. In fact it looked like the leader hadn¡¯t been in that class period at all. Their score was still 198, hers was 192, and third place was 173. She could only guess that her prey was formerly in second or third. She still had two patches left, and there was one class session remaining in the day. It was seventh-day, the last day of the contest.


    They planned to leave for Averdale tomorrow.


    Lilijoy knew that she wasn¡¯t ready, that none of them were even close to ready. She had run it through in her head many times with urgency and anxiety removed. It was clear that they needed months, even years, before her team was able to carry out the type of operation they had planned. Yet Magpie insisted that they had a chance, that their low levels would work in their favor, and Rosemallow had given her the Chaotic Gravity Grenade.


    Even Skria¡¯s advisor, Dean Reunification, had permitted the excursion. Lilijoy didn¡¯t know what to make of that at all. She expected reckless disregard from her own trainer, but the Dean was another matter entirely. There was some deeper game going on, some factor absent from Lilijoy¡¯s understanding of the situation. She wasn¡¯t sure if it made their odds of success greater or lower, but she had decided to be optimistic about the insecurity.


    She pulled her thoughts back to the Subtle Arts contest. The annoying, time wasting Subtle Arts contest.


    For all she knew, the leader still had all their patches for the day. If they were keeping track of the scores, they would know she was close. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine they would sit out the next class period, unless they were an Outsider who was logged out. She couldn¡¯t count on that though. She wracked her brain for a new idea, some way to identify the leader so she could control the outcome, but nothing surfaced.


    Guess I¡¯ll just have to play the game.

 Book 2: Ch. 33: Spinning

    Interlude: Attaboy


    It was bewildering how often his life changed.


    First he died, then he traveled, then he was captured and maybe died a second time. Then he met Doctor Quimea, had a real bed, learned he was Atticus, and learned the sword.


    Now it was all changing again.


    It had started at his window.


    ¡°Gob! Hey gob!¡±


    The hissed voice percolated to his attention through the latest series he was watching. He opened his eyes to the dark window and saw a white face looking in at him.


    After he picked himself off the floor, he registered that it was Nykka, the white girl with the sword, staring in at him.


    He didn¡¯t choose his words carefully.


    ¡°Who are you calling a gob, you...white...girl!¡±


    She waved her hand up and down rapidly, like she was patting something. Attaboy stared at her for another moment.


    ¡°What are you doing at my window?¡±


    His window was far from the ground. He peered around, to try and see exactly what was keeping her from falling.


    ¡°Open the window!¡± she hissed.


    Attaboy looked over his shoulder at the door to his room. He knew it was locked from his side, but apparently it was locked from the other side too. Still, it seemed like a lot of trouble to go through just to visit him.


    Fortunately, he had spent some time opening and closing his windows earlier in the week, so he knew how to do it. At first, the guards kept coming in to visit when he did, but eventually they must have gotten bored of the fresh air.


    A thought occurred to him. This was a situation that called for Atticus.


    Dijiann. Put the words and dreams back.


    A wave of clarity washed over him as the part of his mind he called Atticus opened. His thoughts surged and the words and memories rushed in a thundering current.


    He stepped to the window and allowed Nykka entry.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± he whispered.


    ¡°There¡¯s no time. Quimea-¡±


    Attaboy interrupted her. ¡°Quimea has lost patience. You are here to...what, rescue me?¡±


    He knew he shouldn¡¯t be talking to her this way, but it felt so good to use his mind, to show this girl she wasn¡¯t so superior after all.


    Nykka¡¯s white eyes widened slightly. Even with his full mental powers, Attaboy wasn¡¯t sure what to make of her appearance. Her lack of skin pigment and the white hair signified albinism, but he had no good explanation for the lack of pupils in her eyes. Possibly it was lenses of some kind, since it was apparent she could see.


    ¡°Come with me now, and I¡¯ll explain later,¡± she said. ¡°We only have a few minutes before the security systems gets running again.¡±


    Attaboy knew there were many problems with this situation. There was absolutely no reason to believe that he would be any better off if he left with Nykka. It could even be a maneuver by Quimea. Still, he already knew his response.


    ¡°All right. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 33: Spinning


    Crouching in the darkness yet again, Lilijoy¡¯s heartbeat steadied and slowed. She had just placed her second-to-last patch on a competitor she was almost certain was not the leader. Now she should have two hundred points, two points ahead if nothing else had changed.


    She ran a quick survey of the air currents in the room with her infrared vision. There was a faint channel of warmer air connecting the entrance and exit, flowing more or less through the center of the room. She moved to the center of the air current, crouched down facing away from the direction of the subtle flow, and activated her highest level of Stealth.


    She had discovered that Stealth mana was very flexible in its effects. She could dampen the sounds from her feet and breathing, blend the outline of her form into shadows, conceal her body heat and so on. If she channeled the mana to her eyes, she was much more likely to see hidden things, including other people.


    The only problem was that she didn¡¯t have enough Magi skill to use more than one effect at a time. She could hide or she could seek.


    Or I can cheat, just a little.


    A few mild subdivisions of her conscious processing was a good workaround, for now.


    Since she was reasonably sure that the current leader was at least her equal in skill, she thought that they might be able to discern her location. In truth, she was counting on it.


    Instead of using all her available Stealth mana to hide, she channeled half of it to her nasal passages and tuned her sense of smell to the air flowing around her. Then she waited.


    The scents of the other students in the training room swirled around her. Sweat, leather and other scents resolved into more personal stories: A Ratkin girl who liked oranges. A nervous human boy who had no food scents on him, probably an Outsider. The pungent scent of a Weasle-kin, and the sandlewood cologne used to cover it.


    Her first visitor arrived from her right rear, a whiff of metal and cedar, along with a light acrid smell that Lilijoy associated with reptiles. Their steps were not perfectly silent, and Lilijoy could even feel faint vibrations through the floor from their movement.


    Now she had a decision to make; she had hoped to lure in a shark, and instead it seemed she had attracted a guppy. She could hear the sound of a tongue flicking through the air; they had likely found her by scent, which was somewhat ironic. If she allowed them to plant a patch, she would need to remove it before it faded from sight, but that would betray her plan to any other observers. She had resigned herself to taking the patch and trying a different strategy, when she caught it, a faint metallic aroma she couldn¡¯t place coming from just behind her, coming from a place her other senses insisted was unoccupied.


    There you are.


    Her opponent was using the other stealther as cover, just a she would have done. Lilijoy sped up her thoughts and spread Flash mana throughout her body, weaving it through the Stealth mana. That was her ace in the hole.


    After she had learned to use Flash and Qi together, she had spent several days learning how to combine Magi skill manas. Unlike Qi, stealth mana was gauzy and ephemeral, and initially her Flash had dispersed her stealth like a noisy dog running into a flock of starlings. It had taken her full processing power and a new kind of mental compartmentalization to learn how to draw Flash from her core as a fiery thread.


    She had stumbled on the key as she researched weaving and learned about the art of spinning yarn with a charkha. Initially, it was the resemblance to the word chakra which caught her attention.


    She soon knew that the ancient device for spinning thread was named for its circular shape and motion, much as chakras were named for the spinning cycles of energy contained within the body. It reminded her of the spinning energy in her core, and after much trial and error, she created a secondary vortex, a spindle on which to twist and gather her Flash mana energy as it emerged from her primary core.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Mental compartmentalization was required to create a second spindle for her stealth mana. It was not a dramatic division of her mind, as when she split with Jiannu, more an enhanced multitasking. Her ability to split her attention in this way was inversely proportional to her ability to speed her thoughts; she could either think faster or have more separate strands of awareness, or a bit of both.


    To spin both types of mana and then weave them together throughout her body required three subdivisions, which left her with just enough processing power to keep up with her movement speed in Flash.


    Without this ability, she would never have dared to attempt the maneuver from under the walkway in the previous class session. She hadn¡¯t had much time to put it into practice; it was only this morning that the Inside system had recognized her efforts.


    <hr>


    New Ability Discovered!


    Mana Manipulation (Rare)


    <hr>


    The new ability didn¡¯t have tiers, which intrigued her. It was like Two Minds One Self in that way. After she noticed this, she remembered a conversation with Professor Anaskafius from the early days of her training.


    ¡°Professor, why doesn¡¯t my Two Minds One Self ability have a Roman numeral next to it?¡± she had asked. ¡°Does that mean I can¡¯t raise it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, quite the opposite, in my opinion,¡± he had replied. ¡°You see, there are other abilities like that as well. Some call them ¡®hidden abilities¡¯, because they are almost impossible to obtain. Due to this, they are kept secret by those who possess them, and only passed down to a few favored disciples.¡±


    ¡°So I guess you can¡¯t just learn them at the Academy.¡±


    Anaskafius gave a little laugh. ¡°Oh my, no. Even if you wanted to teach your ability to others, you would find that the students here simply don¡¯t have the necessary foundation to learn it. There may be the occasional rare exception, but by and large, hidden abilities don¡¯t show up in the Garden, other than those unique to a particular species. Students here rarely pass beyond level twenty before they graduate, so you can imagine the gap in understanding.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s more of a Purgatory thing?¡±


    Anaskafius winced. ¡°I do detest that name, almost as much as I detest the place. But yes, of the many differences between here and there, one of them is the development and use of hidden skills and abilities.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Purgatory like, Professor? Why don¡¯t you like it?¡±


    At this point in the conversation, Anaskafius had refused to say any more on the subject.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already said more than I should. Those who go to Purgatory and return to the Garden must vow to never speak of what they know, at the cost of losing their powers. What I can tell you is that the Garden is no more than a nursery, though it has grown large over the years with those of us who much prefer its comforts. The first fifty levels you might gain here become merely the first step of a long stair.¡±


    In light of that conversation, it was interesting that the ability was classified as rare, which meant that she was far from the first to learn it. As she understood it, rare abilities might be present in one of a thousand to one of ten thousand people, very rare started at about about ten times less common than that, and legendary abilities such as Jessila¡¯s Juggernaut might be held by between zero and one hundred beings total at any given time. From this, she judged that Mana Manipulation might be one of the more common hidden abilities.


    She dragged her mind out of reminiscence. It was an indulgence she allowed herself because it only occupied a fraction of a second relative to the slow rate of the events developing around her. Forcing herself to focus on the faint unidentified scent, she held herself utterly still, counting the concentration of the unfamiliar particles as they reached her olfactory system. Ten parts per billion in both nostrils, then fifteen, then twenty, gradually shifting to a higher concentration.


    Lilijoy felt a little bad for making Guardian¡¯s environmental simulating processors work so hard. She had noticed that her sense of smell had become closer to what she experienced Outside, and she still wasn¡¯t sure if she was adapting to the Inside, or vice-versa.


    As she focused on locating the smell source, her echolocation began to sense a blurry void about fifteen feet behind her. The other person, the lizard-type, was lurking close by too, and she did her best to ignore them. Everyone was waiting for a distraction, an outburst that would allow them to close the distance. She put all her remining processing power into accelerating her thoughts, and the world around her slowed.


    Finally, someone set off a strand of hanging bells across the room. Tinkling sound passed around the space; to her echolocation hundreds of tiny sparks exploded and launched, bouncing around the room like marbles tracing the outline of everything they hit, other than the dark void now only ten feet behind her. Her sped-up brain and enhanced hearing rendered the intake of breath from the competitor to her right as a sound like thunder.


    They were making their move. The void behind her was moving too, now faster than the air current carrying their scent.


    It took only a half a second for the clumsy one to reach her. She could ¡®see¡¯ the hand with the patch coming toward her leg ever so slowly. Just before it reached her, she burst into action, rolling back over her heels, grabbing the patch before it was even placed.


    Now the tricky part.


    Her first assailant gasped in surprise, and Lilijoy deliberately slowed her movement as she came out of the roll, her back presented to her real opponent.


    ¡°Thanks for the point!¡± she said cheerfully, breaking the silence of the room again. She felt the slightest brush on her calf while the lizard-boy in front of her hissed in frustration. Maintaining a semblance of normal speed, she spun away and plowed into the stealthed form of what she hoped was her primary competition. With the heavy contact, his stealth broke.


    Curious. She recognized her competitor. He was one of the students she had met almost two weeks ago. <Quatorze>. One of the clannies with the flashy armor. So why didn¡¯t he smell like a human? Could this really be her top rival?


    At that moment, the lights came up.


    ¡°Game¡¯s over,¡± the instructor drawled. ¡°Please form a line. You know the routine.¡±


    ¡°Were you two hundred?¡± The boy asked in an excited voice.


    Lilijoy ignored him.


    I didn¡¯t remove his patch in time!


    Now her odds of pulling out a victory in the competition were greatly reduced. Another realization dawned. The instructor hadn¡¯t said class was over. He had said the game was over.


    She turned her attention to Quatorze. ¡°How did you change your smell?¡±


    He stared at her blankly for a moment. She saw his eyes drift down to rings on his fingers.


    ¡°I¡¯m just that good," he replied. "So were you?¡±


    No point in denying it now. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    He pumped his fist. ¡°Well now you¡¯re one ninety-two! And I¡¯m two oh-six.¡± He punctuated each number triumphantly.


    Lilijoy looked back him. Then she shrugged and turned away.


    He would find her patch soon enough.


    ***


    Jessila loved her new cloak. Like most magical garments Inside, the Cloak of Shadows adjusted to fit her size. When the user desired stealth, it took on the coloration and patterns of the wearer¡¯s environment. Otherwise, it appeared as an ordinary brown hooded cloak.


    ¡°More like cloak of adaptive camouflage, if you ask me,¡± Magpie said when she saw it in action. ¡°Still, it gets the job done. Too bad about the other senses.¡±


    The cloak didn¡¯t do anything to cover sounds or smells, which had them all a little worried.


    ¡°Magpie, do you know anything about rings that help someone¡¯s Stealth skill?¡± asked Lilijoy. ¡°I think that this guy in the contest was using some.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s rings for just about everything, far as I can tell,¡± Magpie replied. ¡°The clans churn them out by the bucketload. But good luck buying any decent ones. They¡¯re tightly controlled, and any crafter making good ones for general purchase gets squashed pretty quick, just like with most magic items.¡±


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t want any for myself, but maybe for Jess. I¡¯m also curious about how they work. I could barely sense the guy, even though I was trying my best. Even the instructor had more smell than he did.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Magpie shrugged. ¡°I guess I could look into it. I¡¯ve already bugged my trainer half crazy about the respawn stuff.¡±


    ¡°Well, it would be bad if we got caught just because they have dogs or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know tons of countermeasures for that, don¡¯t worry.¡± She waved a hand.


    Lilijoy looked at Magpie. I¡¯ve only known her a couple weeks. They had spent so much time researching and planning together, she sometimes forgot how little she knew the girl. At least she¡¯s been less nervous for the past few days.


    Whatever it was that had been bothering Magpie for the first few days of their acquaintance had gone away once they began to plan together. There was still something bothering Lilijoy though.


    ¡°Magpie, what¡¯s the name of your clan?¡±


    ¡°Cook Clan. What makes you ask that?¡±


    Why did her heart just beat faster?


    ¡°Just curious, I guess. Mr. Sennit thinks you¡¯re Filipino.¡±


    ¡°Well, that makes sense. All part of the same gene pool, you know. I never knew my parents, so I could be, for all I know. Lots of different kinds of people live there too.¡±


    Lilijoy moved her thoughts faster.


    Jiannu, are you getting this?


    Yes. This conversation is making her uncomfortable.


    Should we worry?


    That the person guiding us on our infiltration of Sinaloa, who did most of the planning, might not be what they seem?


    I just figured she was a nervous person.


    I just went through all of our interactions with Magpie over the past week and cross-referenced heart rate and facial capillary dilation. Her nervousness is more prominent in conversations with us. Additionally, she had micro-expressions of excitement and triumph any time we told her about ourselves.


    Do we confront her? We¡¯re leaving tomorrow!


    Let¡¯s wait. There are many things bothering us about all of this.


    I guess so. Nagging feelings, huh?


    I think I¡¯m the part doing the nagging. Lets work it out tonight, when we can be alone.


    With that, Lilijoy dropped back into her conversation with Magpie, who was just finishing the last few words of her sentence. She couldn¡¯t resist a small experiment.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you never knew your parents. I didn¡¯t really have parents growing up either.¡±


    The small twitch at the corner of Magpie¡¯s mouth said it all.


    ***


    The next morning, the four girls assembled outside of the Academy building, inventories full of the various supplies they might need for their expedition. The day was bright and still. A silence hung in the air between them, each wrapped in their own thoughts about what lay ahead.


    Finally, Lilijoy broke the silence.


    ¡°So¡­ how do we get there?¡±

 Book 2: Ch. 34: Conversations

    Interlude: Attaboy


    I¡¯ve been rescued by the Knights Templar, he thought for the twentieth time.


    That actually happened.


    Granted, it wasn¡¯t the original medieval chivalric order, or even the later incarnation, the slightly less chivalrous cartel.


    Well, actually it was, sort of.


    Los Caballeros Templarios Renacidos, or The Knights Templar Reborn, were a group that traced their origins to Los Caballeros Templarios Michoac¨¢n. A strange footnote in the history of twenty-first century Mexican cartels, the C.T.M. followed a strict code of ethics, inspired by the original Catholic order. They claimed to help the poor, protect the helpless, and generally behave absolutely nothing like the criminal organization they were.


    Kind of like many governments, the Atticus part of his mind supplied.


    Before the tribulation, the C.T.M. seemed to be an idea that would not die, vanishing and resurfacing every generation. It seemed that pretending to be a force for truth and justice in the face of all evidence to the contrary was a strong human inclination.


    Now this latest version was a group seeking to reform Sinaloa from within.


    None of that mattered to Attaboy. The cold dripping of the old coal mine they were staying in didn¡¯t matter. The fact that Stage One was nearly complete didn¡¯t matter.


    Even the fact that no one nearby seemed inclined to excavate his skull contents didn¡¯t matter.


    What mattered was that he had found a narrow shaft, a chimney, that had access to a geostationary satellite. What mattered was the message in front of his eyes.


    <hr>


    The Inside is a sensory immersion experience.


    Please make sure you are in a comfortable and secure area before proceeding.


    Are you ready, Attaboy?


    Accept | Decline


    <hr>


    Well, DayNight Universe, he thought, lets see what¡¯s become of you.


    <hr>


    Chapter 34: Conversations


    Raven picked up the half geode. Then put it down again. He made a sound of disgust, then picked it up once more.


    ¡°A little birdy told me something you might want to hear.¡±


    God, he hated saying that. Especially into a rock.


    ¡°Raven.¡± Uncle¡¯s voice was uninflected.


    ¡°I need to confirm my orders.¡±


    ¡°About our fledgling.¡±


    ¡°How do I say this? Her plan is stupid. It¡¯s just really bad. They¡¯re going to march into a highly secured area forty levels under where they need to be. I thought we trained her better.¡±


    ¡°Magpie has always been more of a tactical thinker.¡±


    ¡°I get that. She has her strengths, but...¡±


    ¡°You suspect something else.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just too careless.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t expect her to succeed.¡±


    ¡°You think she caught that? That she¡¯s just phoning it in, because it¡¯s impossible?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Raven waited for the rest of the answer. Then he realized Uncle was finished speaking.


    He tried again.


    ¡°I mean, Magpie is great at whatever is right in front of her. But she has no skills for abstract thinking. She hasn¡¯t even figured out your situation, after all these years.¡±


    ¡°I am aware.¡±


    ¡°Are we teaching her her limits? She¡¯s still young. I would hate for her to internalize what¡¯s about to happen.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s about to happen.¡±


    Raven knew that was a question.


    ¡°I think there¡¯s a good chance at least one of them will be captured. Their respawn measures are half-assed at best.¡±


    ¡°Buzzard was negligent.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. But she doesn¡¯t know what it¡¯s like there. Her advice to Magpie would be fine for most situations.¡±


    ¡°We only care about Magpie.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying. It will undermine her confidence, perhaps permanently.¡±


    ¡°Follow your previous orders. Arrange for Magpie to respawn if the situation indicates.¡±


    There was nothing more to say.


    ***


    In a space of light and shadows, four great beings convened for a long overdue conversation. Each of their vast and undefined figures carried aspects of an element, blended with a cultivation aura of meaning specific to their interest.


    They were four Gongen of the part of the Inside known as the Garden, also known as Tier Five subsets of the great mind of Guardian. They communicated with great golden glyphs that twisted and spiraled in the space between them, reinforcing and canceling each other¡¯s wave-like structure.


    ¡°Why is this being allowed?¡± sent one. Playful flames danced around its aspect.


    ¡°There is much under the surface.¡± the vast ocean implied.


    ¡°It will hone their edge and focus their understanding.¡± inserted the third, blades of wind cutting each symbol.


    ¡°They will struggle greatly.¡± the fourth rumbled.


    ¡°And grow from it,¡± added the ocean.


    ¡°I will admit to curiosity about the outcome, but I see no good from it. Where is our old colleague in all of this? I have detected his influence.¡±


    ¡°Shadow has his own agenda, as always. He pursues subtlety above all else,¡± the wind evoked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame he has removed himself. His love for obscurity is only matched by your joy for discovery,¡± the great earthen being noted. ¡°I miss that conflict.¡±


    ¡°But why?¡± pleaded the fire. ¡°What knowledge is being hidden from me?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    There was a long silence as the four beings contemplated the glyphs between them.


    Finally, the oceanic being spoke. ¡°The Protector grows impatient with your use of resources. It is time to recede.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± demanded the fire. It expanded its aura of playful curiosity to pressure the ocean.


    The ocean was unperturbed, but sympathetic. ¡°Send your avatar to mine. Perhaps I can help your understanding grow.¡±


    With that, it removed itself.


    Fire turned to Air. ¡°Why have you allowed this distraction? This isn¡¯t like you.¡±


    Already, they could feel their consciousness contracting as the resources ebbed. The waving light of the glyphs began to slow and harden into vibrations in the aether.


    Air replied, as it swirled away, ¡°Sometimes an impurity can only be removed with a counteragent.¡±


    By now, their minds were a tenth the size they had been moments before.


    ¡°What does that even mean?¡± the fire sputtered. His words were now discrete and modulated sound.


    Even as their minds shrank again, Fire turned to Earth for one last attempt, his avatar forming out of his condensing essence.


    ¡°And you! It is not simple struggle you cultivate, much as you prefer to pretend that is the case. I happen to know that-¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Earth roared. ¡°The kid needs to do this for her own experience cultivation. Anything else is secondary.¡± The three eyes of her avatar spun, unanchored as yet by a face.


    ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°Honestly, Ani,¡± said Rosemallow, as she finished the process of condensing into her avatar. ¡°We need to trust Eskallia. She has surpassed us all and her thoughts run deep. I would feel better if Masgret was opposed, but there it is.¡±


    ¡°But they¡¯re all so weak. What possible benefit can accrue?¡± Anaskafius'' quills rippled in agitation.


    ¡°What¡¯s got you so worried?¡±


    The rooftop garden of the Academy formed around them as they spoke.


    ¡°We need to keep her Inside, safe. If they capture her here, who knows what will happen to her Outside.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the toughest little thing I¡¯ve trained. You know my methods...¡±


    Anaskafius grimaced. ¡°Mal, the less I think about what you do to those children, the happier I will be.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Rosemallow didn¡¯t bother to get angry. This was a conversation they had had many times. ¡°I¡¯ve been doing this a long time. I can always see if they¡¯re going to break.¡± Her third eye wobbled. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that some of them are stupidly resilient.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s no coincidence that those are your favorites...¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡±


    ¡°They allow you to indulge your darker nature.¡±


    ¡°You are never going to let me live that down, are you?¡±


    ¡°Not as long as you choose to walk so close to that line.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not struggle without pain. But you know why I¡¯ll never go back.¡±


    ¡°I know what you say.¡±


    Rosemallow shrugged. ¡°Fine. Maybe Eskallia can set you straight on this too. After all, I learned it from her.¡±


    ¡°And that would be?¡± Anaskafius asked, raising one tiny eyebrow.


    ¡°The struggle is always best if it results in growth.¡±


    The two sat in silence for several minutes, contemplating the oak trees of Eskallia¡¯s grove. Finally, Anaskafius broke the silence.


    ¡°Help me understand, Mal. Why take such a risk with Guardian¡¯s chosen so early in the cycle?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just it, Ani.¡± Rosemallow looked down at Anaskafius. Her third eye was steady.


    ¡°She¡¯s not the one. We don¡¯t know what she is.¡±


    ***


    The previous night, Lilijoy sat on the cot in her Outside room, deep in conversation with herself.


    ¡°A week ago, this all seemed so simple. Train hard, sneak into Averdale and get Attaboy¡¯s location.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve grown a lot since then.¡±


    ¡°Every time I think I¡¯m getting a handle on who I am, everything changes.¡±


    ¡°We need to merge more often. I¡¯m thinking fast all the time, and our subjective time difference is impacting you.¡±


    ¡°I know. It¡¯s just...¡±


    ¡°...easy to put off. Just because we can do it doesn¡¯t make it easy.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s why the system made it happen by itself that first time.¡±


    ¡°Shall we?¡±


    They merged.


    Lilijoy sat quietly for a long time.


    She didn¡¯t need to consult her Status to understand all the details of the her system anymore. Not when she was unified. All the information was immediately accessible, present in her awareness, the hierarchy of details open and cohesive in her mind.


    When did I get so smart?


    It was a rhetorical thought. She could trace exactly how her ability to process many threads of information and model increasingly complicated sets of variables had grown over the past weeks. It was no surprise that her slower self, the one forced to adopt the pace of consensus with other people and existence in the material world, had felt the strain as her internal self grew by leaps and bounds.


    It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯ve run out of rare earths. I won¡¯t stay myself at this pace.


    The rare earth elements had run out over the past day. It was not much of a problem, not yet anyway. The primary architecture of Stage Two was mostly complete. Her brain was now permeated by a fine crystal web of roots and branches. Without access to the external support structures of the Tao System, she could only guess what the next development stage was originally intended to be.


    Except she didn¡¯t need to know the designer¡¯s intentions. Not anymore. She had a good understanding of what the system could do, would do, once she had access to more of its elemental components.


    It would just take a lot of work on her part to reinvent it.


    There were still limits, of course. In fact, the more intelligent she became, the more obvious, the more hardened those limits felt.


    Yes, she had near instant access, unconscious access to the everything humanity had posted online up until 2070. Yet she was still standing behind a porthole looking out at the ocean. She could only see where she looked, and the more she looked, the more she realized that the surface she could see was just that, a thin layer of information floating on the deeper meaning she truly required.


    Her mind would need to be several orders of magnitude bigger to truly understand the information as it was presented. Either that, or she would need to spend many subjective years studying, making her own connections, building her own network of meaning.


    It wasn¡¯t that great a burden, except it failed to address her urgency, her need for understanding now. Her growth to this point had taken a pinhole and made a portal, but even if she grew until she could survey the entire surface of all the facts, falsehoods and trivia swirling up in the ocean of information, it would still not take her any deeper.


    Meanwhile, she had begun to understand something else, what all this processing power was for. It wasn¡¯t so she could gain greater and greater power. No, it was so she could make better decisions. Wiser decisions. So she would know when to act.


    The better she was at that, the less power she needed.


    With a thought, she divided her mind into two parts, barely needing to use the split hemisphere technique. Sometimes it was just better to think dialectically. And dispassionately. She dialed down her feelings of betrayal and fear to a background murmur.


    ¡°Let¡¯s lay out some facts.¡±


    ¡°Magpie lied.¡±


    ¡°From the first time we met.¡±


    ¡°Cook clan. No historical record.¡±


    ¡°She entrapped us, pretending to a common enemy.¡±


    ¡°So she knew we were enemies with Sinaloa before we told her.¡±


    ¡°Only three known direct sources for that knowledge. Anda, Marcus, Rosemallow.¡±


    ¡°Indirect sources? Anda was a loose cannon. Rosemallow consulted with a ''couple friends¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Timing? When did Magpie learn of us?¡±


    ¡°Tricky. Do we believe Magpie¡¯s timeline?¡±


    ¡°She was economical with her falsehoods.¡±


    ¡°If we assume she was truthful about her trial...¡±


    ¡°Then we are dealing with an organization that trains kids Outside, and could send one on their Trial with very little notice.¡±


    ¡°Assuming Rosemallow was the source.¡±


    ¡°There are some big problems with that assumption. Rosemallow is an Insider.¡±


    "And Magpie an Outsider."


    ¡°Let¡¯s consider Anda. His leak to Renaissance was after we met Magpie."


    "He could have told them at an earlier time, not just when he admitted it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s simple to verify.¡±


    They composed a quick message to Anda and sent it.


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t rule out whoever sent him the initial information about Attaboy.¡±


    ¡°They would have needed my Inside identity.¡±


    ¡°And the ability to influence the Academy. It can¡¯t be coincidence that she is a roommate.¡±


    "Seems unlikely then."


    ¡°Guess we¡¯re back to Rosemallow¡¯s friends.¡±


    A faint sensation of relief wafted up.


    ¡°Still, the identity of the organization able to accomplish Outside training and influence the Academy is unknown.¡±


    ¡°Too many unknowns to guess. Is the Academy really independent from the Outside?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the big one. Also, is the Outside truly independent from the Inside?¡±


    They both thought about that for a while.


    ¡°I mean, obviously it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Guardian controls both.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that Guardian doesn¡¯t do much. It seems like we are thinking about a more, I don¡¯t know, ground level influence.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s seemed so obvious. Outsiders go Inside, not the other way around.¡±


    There was another space for thought.


    Then.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else we¡¯ve been putting off.¡±


    ¡°We were innocent before.¡±


    ¡°Innocent-er anyway.¡±


    ¡°But now...¡±


    ¡°Now it¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a painful thought.¡±


    ¡°About our childhood.¡±


    ¡°Two empty vessels.¡±


    ¡°Waiting to be filled.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still possible that we¡¯re wrong.¡±


    ¡°But if we¡¯re not, we don¡¯t just have to save Attaboy from Sinaloa.¡±


    ¡°We have to save him from the Tao System.¡±


    End Part 1 of Book 2.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 1: Slice

    Prelude: The Sage


    The Sage looked over the wind-lashed hills far below, staff across his lap. He cast his mind down the cliffs of ice and rock, past the talus slopes, through the gnarled first trees into the valley where his charges roamed.


    Or were they his wardens?


    The distinction was unimportant.


    For now.


    He pulled his inner gaze back. All was as it should be.


    He expanded his mind, evicting the smaller occupants of the great thought space, pushing aside the greater powers. They were meaningless to him.


    Now, he surveyed the world anew, the great skein of meaning spiraling before him. Individual threads of perception shimmered and sparked, each colored by experience. The light of the threads flowed through the thought space, rising, always rising.


    As always, he was cautious. Even the act of observation was profound. His enlightenment was not such that he could avoid effecting that which he perceived.


    The path of wu wei was not simple. What was inaction anyway, when consciousness itself was an act which shook the firmament?


    He found the place, the place where the threads were coiling around each other, dark and light, spooling and separating.


    Another has arrived.


    I wonder which one it is?


    <hr>


    Chapter 1: Slice


    Lilijoy launched another Qi strike at the shadows, hoping for a lucky hit as she crouched over Skria¡¯s still form. Somewhere in the distance she could hear Jessila bellowing in rage or pain as she tried to catch up.


    What a way to travel.


    Magpie was¡­ wherever. Somewhere, probably crouching in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to strike.


    Now would be a good time.


    Five minutes ago would have been even better.


    Not that she could blame Magpie for the current situation. That pretty much lay at her feet. Or Skria¡¯s feet. Same thing at the moment.


    Her senses caught the blur of movement off her left shoulder, just an instant too late. The shadows spat out a pair of wings, and she felt the gentle pressure of a razor¡¯s touch across her forearm.


    <hr>


    Vorpal Crow inflicts 20 points of damage. Left hand disabled.


    54 HP remaining


    Damage over time now 3 HP per second


    <hr>


    They¡¯re just too fast.


    Her mind was moving at the fastest possible speed, allowing her to track the attacks of the sharp-winged blurs with ease, but her Flash powered movements were too slow to do anything about it. It didn¡¯t help that the creatures were moving faster than her echolocation could work.


    ¡°Stay close.¡± The faint whisper from Skria was all the warning she got as the air around them howled into a vortex of dust and grass.


    Lilijoy hunkered down and Skria pulled her ear to her mouth.


    ¡°I can keep this going for a while. Heal your bleeding if you can, ¡®cause it¡¯s dripping on me and it¡¯s gross.¡±


    Lilijoy began to pull Prana from her core, when Skria pulled her ear back down.


    ¡°Wait. That sounded bad. I¡¯m sorry-¡±


    ¡°Gotta heal now. Dead in ten.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Sorry.¡±


    It took Lilijoy a minute to fully stop the bleeding and bring herself back from the brink.


    ¡°Hey Skria.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done dripping. What now?¡±


    ¡°Where are the others?¡±


    Lilijoy stifled a flash of annoyance. ¡°Don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t hear Jess anymore, because of your tornado thing. And you know how Magpie is. What about Swoot?¡±


    Swoot was Skria''s shadow owl.


    ¡°Swoot¡¯s hiding. These things are too fast for him.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re too fast for anyone. How are we supposed to fight them?¡±


    ¡°We need to find shelter, get out of this clearing.¡±


    ¡°Can you move your spell?¡±


    ¡°Probably. It will drain me faster though. Oh, and my legs aren¡¯t working.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll carry you.¡± Lilijoy knew that Skria weighed next to nothing, certainly no more than a yellow rock.


    ¡°You might have to run. I¡¯m going to burn through my blue pretty fast.¡±


    Without another word, Lilijoy gathered Skria up and stumble-sprinted back toward the large grove of trees as best she could.


    The current situation had arisen due to Skria¡¯s insistence that she scout ahead from the air as they traveled.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be completely fine,¡± she had said. ¡°Nothing can touch me in the air. And besides, I¡¯ve got Swoot to help.¡±


    Obviously the Inside had been listening.


    The rest of the party had emerged from the edge of the woods to see Skria plummet to the ground several hundred meters away, her body battered in the air by the black streaks that turned out to be vorpal crows.


    This was the peril of going too fast in instanced travel.


    Soon after Guardian had re-shaped the Inside, all forms of fast travel and teleportation had been removed from the former game. What replaced them was instanced travel. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure whether the pun on instant travel was deliberate. Instanced travel was simple enough to do. All you needed was a distance, a direction, and a time. There were some other stipulations that Lilijoy had allowed to wash over her, having to do with starting location and party size.


    The main point of contention between the four cohort members had been the time they wanted to allow for their journey. There was a kind of friction at work in the concept. They could have a long, simple journey, or a short, brutal one. Or somewhere in between.


    Choose the wrong speed, and watch the death counter soar.


    It looked like they had chosen poorly. At the time they decided, two days had seemed like a reasonable figure to Lilijoy. Averdale Forest was located about a thousand kilometers from Academy Town, though the land of the Garden was not completely static. It was prone to something like greatly accelerated plate tectonics, stretching and moving over time, a smooth process that took place in unpopulated areas, never changing so fast as to be directly noticeable.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Lilijoy had figured that since their party could make that distance in about a week, going all out, two days wouldn''t be that bad. Skria had suggested that cutting the travel time in half would be more prudent and still leave them plenty of time for the round trip. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t bear to take any longer than absolutely necessary, and her argument had prevailed. Now it seemed like Skria was right.


    Guess I should have listened to the person who¡¯s actually done it.


    Putting her regrets aside, Lilijoy ran as best she could given the circumstances. Boughs thrashed and snapped around them as she reached the trees in a roar of wind and dove into a brush-filled gully. Skria¡¯s spell ceased.


    The abrupt silence was shocking, and for a moment, all Lilijoy could hear was the sound of their breath and pounding hearts.


    ¡°Did we lose them?¡± Skria ventured.


    ¡°Hope so. How are your legs?¡±


    ¡°Still attached. I can¡¯t really bear to look.¡±


    ¡°Are you losing health?¡±


    ¡°Slowly. I think it will stop before I respawn. I didn¡¯t want to waste a treatment.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll get myself up about halfway, then I¡¯ll see what I can do for you.¡±


    Lilijoy regretted dropping her field medicine class because it would have no use on the Outside. Even though her Healing was at Augmented Apprentice, projecting her Prana to heal others, particularly non-human others, was inefficient.


    It was more of the skill within a skill issue she had run into repeatedly Inside; the Magi portion of a skill was far from an automatic boost. Her weapons skills were lagging far behind her Unarmed Combat as far as that went, to the point that Rosemallow had advised her not to bother using weapons unless her opponent had very low Invulnerability. Her unarmed Qi strikes were mana based and able to circumvent INV.


    Despite this advice, her trainer had gifted her an ironwood cudgel.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to run low on mana from time to time. Also, it¡¯s just nice to have a weapon in your hand sometimes. You can practice mixing Qi strikes from your off-hand and feet while you swing this around.¡±


    The cudgel was about the length of her arm, and Lilijoy enjoyed the way it felt in her hand. She had done enough training with similar weapons over the past couple weeks to have raised her skill to Augmented Apprentice, though she still hadn¡¯t figured out any of the Magi tricks for club use.


    She still missed her evil knife, and felt it was a little unfair that Magpie got to keep the cool Sources from the Trial, while she didn¡¯t get to keep her weapon.


    ¡°Sources are different,¡± Professor Anaskafius had explained the previous week. ¡°They become part of your essence. Make sure you stay alert on your travels, because you never know when a Source will call.¡±


    Guess I shouldn¡¯t have dropped the Basic Elements of Magic class either. Then I might actually know what to look for.


    Despite her regrets about all the classes she had stopped attending, Lilijoy knew she had made the right decision. All of this Inside stuff was a means to an end. She had already made plans to leave the monastery on the Outside and meet Anda. As soon as the instanced travel was done, she would log out and let Magpie do all the annoying negotiations and prep work in Averdale Forest.


    Lilijoy and Skria were still healing when the sounds of a large body moving through the woods several hundred feet away came to them.


    I sure hope that¡¯s Jess, Lilijoy thought.


    After a minute of listening to heavy footsteps and snapping branches, she heard Magpie¡¯s voice in a pitched whisper.


    ¡°Stop making so much noise! You¡¯re going to bring in every monster within a mile.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Jess whispered back.


    Lilijoy felt like that was a little unfair. After all, they had walked through the woods for several hours without any particular attempt at stealth. It wasn¡¯t until they reached the fields at the edge that they had been attacked.


    When they first began their journey, the Instance formed around them gradually, the sunny fields around the academy turned into steadily darker woods as they walked, the landscape around them blurring slightly, until the trees became dense and blocked their view. The first real surprise was the fall of night, about eleven hours early.


    ¡°That¡¯s not a good sign,¡± Skria said at the time. ¡°Night travel instances are hard.¡±


    ¡°You mean it¡¯s going to stay dark the whole two days?¡± Magpie asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s only my second time. But yes, that¡¯s usually how it goes. If we had done it slower, it could have been grassy fields in morning sun the whole time.¡± There was a hint of reproach in her voice.


    ¡°What if we¡¯d done it in hours?¡± asked Lilijoy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Swimming maybe? I¡¯ve heard of lava fields too. Travel Instances adapt to our strengths and weaknesses, so we can¡¯t be complacent.¡±


    Too bad she didn¡¯t take her own advice.


    Lilijoy decided to risk calling out before their party separated again.


    ¡°Jess! Magpie!¡±


    After a moment of silence, Jess¡¯s crunching footsteps started up, moving in their direction. Soon the party was reunited.


    ¡°Well, that was a total shitstorm,¡± whispered Magpie.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Skria.


    ¡°We can¡¯t separate like that. Stupid Inside with its stupid lack of party chat. Stupid rocks,¡± Magpie added, somewhat inexplicably.


    ¡°What was that about rocks?¡± asked Lilijoy.


    ¡°This stupid place uses rocks to communicate over distances.¡± Magpie let out a sigh of disgust.


    ¡°Any whole object split up can work with the right enchantment,¡± Skria clarified. ¡°But geodes and certain crystals work the best.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we get some?¡± Lilijoy asked. She had another thought. ¡°Why can¡¯t Magpie and I message back and forth?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d need to log out,¡± Magpie replied. ¡°Outside communications are funky here, and they almost never work when you actually need them. Even logging out doesn¡¯t always work.¡±


    ¡°Communication crystals are really hard to get,¡± added Skria. ¡°Some high-level parties get rings made, but it costs more gold than we¡¯ll see anytime soon.¡±


    Is this more of the Inside trying to be realistic? thought Lilijoy. Or maybe trying to be fair to the Insiders?


    Her musings were interrupted by Jessila moaning.


    ¡°Those birds really sting.¡±


    Lilijoy looked over at Jess. Her cow hides were in tatters, and she could see red lines crisscrossing her skin. At least she wasn¡¯t wearing her cloak.


    ¡°Jess, they do a lot more than sting. How did you avoid getting sliced up like me and Skria?¡±


    She knew Jessila¡¯s INV wasn¡¯t any higher than hers. Although her braids from Mr. Sennit got it pretty close.


    ¡°Ability. Denser.¡±


    That made sense. Jessila¡¯s Juggernaut ability raised her mass the faster she moved. Lilijoy had just never thought of the implications beyond running into things.


    ¡°So now what?¡± Magpie asked. ¡°Can we cower in the woods for a couple days?¡±


    ¡°A bush of no-berries to that!¡± Skria replied with alarm in her voice. ¡°Uh, I meant to say,¡± she continued, ¡°no, that would be a very bad idea. We must keep moving. Once committed to a travel instance, very bad things will happen if we stop for more than a quarter portion of our chosen time."


    ¡°So what then?¡± Lilijoy chimed in. ¡°Should we finish healing and make a run for it? Skria, did you see what was on the other side of the clearing?¡±


    ¡°Hills and scrub after the fields I think.¡±


    ¡°There might be cover there, but what about other enemies?¡± asked Magpie. ¡°I don¡¯t want to run from one danger into another. I¡¯ve got the beginnings of an idea. Lets talk it over while you two finish healing.¡±


    ***


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this idea any more!¡± Skria wailed over the bone jarring thud of Jessila¡¯s gait. Huge clumps of grass and dirt flew up behind her as she powered across the field, with Lilijoy and Skria tucked in each arm like squirming footballs.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming!¡± Magpie yelled. ¡°Start the circle, Jess!¡±


    Jessila groaned with effort as she began to curve her path, straining her powerful muscles to override the momentum of her Juggernaut ability. The first vorpal crow arrived as a humming slash, sketching a new red line across Jessila¡¯s neck. Its sound dopplered as new crows arrived, slashing air and flesh.


    Lilijoy could tell Jessila was struggling. The effort of running in a circle was slowing her down and diluting her ability, which enabled the crows to cut much deeper than before. She poured as much Prana as she could into Jessila, trying to mitigate the worst of the bleeding. It had been her idea to be carried for exactly this reason, despite her mixed feelings about being hauled around by a larger person yet again.


    ¡°Spell!¡± Magpie called out, followed by a string of curses that Lilijoy could only assume meant that the wiry girl had been hit by a crow as she ran alongside them. Across Jessila¡¯s torso, Skria incanted the four words that focused her spell components, her voice broken by the jarring footsteps of her carrier.


    ¡°Air Aspect Altered Cloud!¡±


    A stinking gas that reminded Lilijoy of the dead Amazon swamp burst into existence all around them.


    ¡°Again!¡±


    Skria cast the spell several more times as they ran. The slashing buzz of the crows blurred and blended as more and more gathered around them, undeterred by the foul aroma. Lilijoy felt a glancing blow to her dangling legs. Looking up, she could see contrails of blood mist tracing the path of the crows attacking them.


    ¡°Head in!¡± Magpie cried, her voice weak.


    Jess canceled her ability and turned to the center of the circle she had transcribed on the field, while Skria began one last spell. They huddled in a pile, under Jessila¡¯s protective bulk, as the winds around them picked up and began to circulate, gathering the gas into a stinking cyclone.


    ¡°Here we go... Air Charge Projected Bolt!¡±


    The spark leapt from Magpie¡¯s outstretched hand.


    Lilijoy felt the air pulled from her lungs as the air swirling around them became a fiery vortex. The explosive force of the ignition followed, pressing Jessila down on to her, which was for the best, as the heat singed all the parts of her that were unprotected. Over the roar of the flames, she could hear Skria whimpering and Magpie cackling wildly.


    ¡°I finally got to blow shit up!¡±

 Book 2.5: Chapter 2: Exegesis

    Interlude: Nykka


    She wished she hadn¡¯t opened the document.


    The rock floor of the old coal mine was damp and uncomfortable. She shivered from the cold and cursed her Suenos System for being so bad at helping her regulate body temperature. She resisted the temptation to shut off the perception of discomfort though. Suffering was an anvil upon which she was forged. Or something like that; one of her trainers had told her that, and it seemed about right.


    She looked at the gob, Attaboy, sitting there in the dim beam of light from the open shaft.


    Figures he would find the one place in here to connect.


    This boy was a total enigma. Doctor Quimea had gone a little crazy over him, convinced he held some secret that would change everything for their clan. She had been¡­ unimpressed, to put it kindly. But ever since she had opened the document she could see more clearly, could see how Quimea¡¯s machinations were self-serving, dangerous even. Once, she had allowed herself to be pulled in his wake; only recently had she recognized how short-sighted that behavior was, thanks to what she had learned.


    Seeing the truth isn¡¯t a blessing. I was happier wrapped in my comfortable biases.


    But she couldn¡¯t unlearn what she had learned, couldn¡¯t go back to blissful ignorance.


    The document had appeared in her messages, sender unknown. It had passed her system vetting, so she wasn¡¯t worried about trojan horses or assaults on her bugs. It had a simple title.


    <hr>


    Read to See


    <hr>


    That was all. She had almost discarded it, but instead she opened it on the off chance it was from a superior testing her in some way.


    It was a list. A list of things called cognitive biases.


    Again, she almost discarded it, and again she didn¡¯t. She read the first few, and she recognized the people around her. She read a few more and recognized herself. At the bottom of the list was a simple question.


    What if you configured your system to address these biases?


    In the weeks that followed, she did just that. Once she did, it was easy to recognize the others who had done the same. Soon she was part of a group within her clan, Los Caballeros Templarios Renacidos. She figured out something soon after that, though she didn¡¯t share it with anyone. Probably some of them had figured it out anyway.


    Renacidos wasn¡¯t just saying that her organization was reborn. It was an affiliation.


    She was in Renaissance.


    <hr>


    Chapter 2: Exegesis


    ¡°Have you ever looked closely at Rule Four?¡± Marcus asked.


    Lilijoy looked up from the supplies she was pulling out of boxes in the monastery storage room. It was a strange turn to their conversation, which had previously revolved around the practicalities of her coming journey.


    ¡°I pretty much ignore the Rules at this point. I got tired of seeing them all the time, so I had my system edit them out.¡±


    Marcus made a little choking noise. ¡°You know...¡± He tried again. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t...¡±.


    Finally he gave up on the thought. ¡°Interesting. Anyway, back to Rule Four. How does it appear to you these days?¡±


    Guardian¡¯s Rules could be found overlaid on the sensory augmentation known as augsight that most everyone with systems used Outside. Lilijoy wondered idly if there was a printed version for those without systems, and if so, who was in charge of posting them where unaugmented people could see. If there was someone with that responsibility, they definitely missed her little tribe by the Piles.


    She put that thought aside and summoned Rule Four to her internal awareness.


    Lilijoy had noticed already that the specific words and phrasing of the Rules varied every time she looked. She knew that this was because language was inadequate to penetrate to the underlying meaning, or rather that the totality of the Rules could not be summarized in a linear form.


    She remember when Anda first explained the Rules to her as they floated over the dead Amazon.


    ¡°The Rules are a complex multi-dimensional, self-referring holographic information topology,¡± he had said.


    Lilijoy could only imagine what her expression had been. At that point in her system¡¯s development, it could only give her a general sense of the context and meaning of unfamiliar words. She imagined she must have looked like she had been hit on the head with a brick. Clearly, Anda had expected this to confuse her, because he quickly went on...


    ¡°Sorry for all the big words! What you need to know is that any particular version of the Rules that you see only contains part of the true meaning, the part that best fits your mind¡¯s capacity to understand at that moment. The Rules are supported by a portion of Guardian equivalent to millions of human minds, perhaps even more, so in some ways when you see the Rules you are in a conversation with an entity that could hold the entire human existence in a single thought.¡±


    Despite the subsequent growth of her system and her mind, the slippery feeling of the language and numbers involved was still there. What did it even mean, to have the capacity of millions, or billions of minds?


    Lilijoy thought that her current system might be equivalent to a few unaugmented brains, though it was difficult to measure. Certainly, she was many times faster in her thoughts, though she wasn¡¯t sure what that meant in terms of intelligence. Speed of thought didn¡¯t mean that the thoughts themselves were more or less intelligent. It was her ability to hold more than one strand of thought, to weave multiple ideas together and witness the resulting pattern that made her think she was more intelligent that an unaugmented brain, maybe more than several working together. Still, there had been minds throughout human history that seemed to have some of her current abilities.


    Of course, the most obvious measure was that she could split her mind into multiple independent awarenesses. She wasn¡¯t sure if that was a valid comparison either, because when she split her awareness, she was creating independent narrative streams of consciousness, not entire human minds. She suspected it was a benign version of an ancient pathology, multiple personality disorder.


    Even in the twenty-first century, it had been a controversial diagnosis, but she was certain that an unaugmented brain could develop multiple narratives, if placed under sufficient stress. Her understanding of the disorder, and it was difficult to separate truth from fable when it came to multiple personality disorder, was that the personalities involved would take turns. That fit nicely with her experience; it was only the parallel neural circuits offered by Stage Two that allowed her to run multiple narratives simultaneously.


    She returned to her display...


    <hr>


    4) The Rules derive from Guardian¡¯s understanding of veneration.


    Cycles between ontology and gratitude are meaningful.


    Thus the continued existence of biological


    humanity as fruitful alien awarenesses is


    suitable and merits resource allocation


    relative to current population, approximately


    10^17 floating point operations equivalents


    per individual.


    <hr>


    This is supposed to fit my capacity to understand?


    ¡°I haven¡¯t looked for a while, but this is what came up,¡± she said as she sent the words from her awareness to Marcus. ¡°I think that the Rules have overestimated my intelligence though. I can see the parallels to earlier versions and I understand the words, but I feel like I¡¯m missing something.¡±


    Marcus took a minute to process the words. When he spoke, his voice wavered, just a bit.


    ¡°Lilijoy, you should understand a little background here. There are a few people, and I count myself among them, who spend large portions of their time contemplating the Rules. While most see the Rules as mere instructions, we see them as a way, perhaps the best way, to understand and learn about Guardian. Because the Rules interact with our comprehension, we can track the changes in the language we see over time. They can almost function as a mirror that reflects our understanding of how Guardian perceives the universe.¡±


    ¡°So the way the Rules change and respond tell you if you are moving in the right direction in your research.¡±


    She hadn¡¯t thought of using the Rules this way, but it made sense.


    ¡°Exactly. It has also been useful to compare how the Rules manifest in a variety of languages. It¡¯s a tricky business though, because when you share your version of the Rules with someone else, it may actually interfere with their understanding. For that reason, we have identified broad levels of understanding. Within the same level, it can be productive to share, but sharing between levels seems to create more problems than it solves. Of course, our understanding of how to define these levels of comprehension is not perfect, so our tendency is to default to secrecy, lest we interfere with each other¡¯s pursuits. Mostly we share methods and approaches to exegesis.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°So what you are saying is that you shouldn¡¯t share your version of the Rules with me, because it might slow my comprehension in the future?¡±


    Marcus shook his head. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure. Your version may not fit into our existing categories. Even now, I am debating whether to study it or immediately delete it from my memory. I have quarantined it for the moment, but I fear the temptation to look will only grow.¡±


    Lilijoy furrowed her brow. ¡°Really? What could I possibly know that you don¡¯t? I¡¯ve haven¡¯t spent much time at all contemplating the Rules, except when I thought I was about to be evaporated by space lasers.¡±


    ¡°Exactly the problem, my dear. For your version of Rule Four to be so different, other factors must be at work, almost certainly your system.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°I think there is a possible compromise. I am setting my system to eliminate your version of Rule Four from my memory, but I will retain the topics of conversation that it has stimulated. Since several of those relate to the reason I asked about Rule Four in the first place, I think we can have our cake and eat it too, as it were. This is one of those methods of sharing exegesis I referred to earlier.¡±


    The entire conversation to this point had Lilijoy reeling. Didn¡¯t she already have enough to think about? She was preparing to leave the monastery in Cochabamba and her Inside cohort was recovering from their instanced travel, getting ready to infiltrate Sinaloa¡¯s holdings in Averdale.


    After barely surviving the episode with the vorpal crows, the singed, tattered and sober party had made their way into the dry hills beyond the field. Pushing their way through the brittle thorn bushes that covered the rocky terrain had been irritating and painful. At the time, Lilijoy had decided that a good set of leather armor was worth almost any expense, especially as it seemed that the thorns paid no attention to traits such as Invulnerability.


    Several hours of arduous travel later, the party had emerged from the hills, scratched and grumpy, and found themselves on a perfectly flat plateau. At a glance it seemed a lake, reflecting the stars and scraps of cloud as they floated in the night sky, but in fact it was granite, polished to a mirror finish and stretched out in front of them as far as they could see.


    The events that followed on the mirrored plane were some of Lilijoy¡¯s most cherished memories to date. She was tempted to review them once more at her fastest processing speed, as a little break from the conversation with Marcus, but she resisted the temptation and returned her focus to what he was saying.


    ¡°What are your thoughts about the Inside, now that you¡¯ve been there for a few weeks?¡±


    I thought we were talking about Rule Four? Has he already forgotten?


    ¡°I have friends there, that¡¯s the main thing,¡± she replied. ¡°I love the forests and the fields and the food, and all the things that we don¡¯t have on the Outside anymore. Sometimes I wish I could just smoosh the two worlds together.¡±


    Marcus nodded. ¡°I know what you mean. The Inside is an amazing escape, and a reminder of all that we have lost. It¡¯s a great boon to humanity, if you think about it. Not only does it allow us to experience a much more pleasant environment, albeit with the occasional monster, it also spared humanity from total collapse by providing some of the tools we needed to rebuild on the Outside.¡±


    He raised a finger. ¡°But don¡¯t you find it a little odd that it doesn¡¯t show up in Rule Four?¡±


    Ah, there we are.


    Lilijoy thought for a moment before she replied. ¡°I guess I just assumed that all that processing power included the Inside, or something like that.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t rule that out completely. Rule Four at the second level of comprehension, which I am quite sure I can share with you, tends to go something like¡­ ¡®in gratitude to its creators, Guardian will allocate no less than 10^24 floating point operations equivalents for the supervision and enforcement of the Rules.¡¯¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I can assure you that the details and clarity gained at higher levels of comprehension seem to indicate no other use for the allocated processing beyond the Rules themselves...¡±


    Lilijoy thought she could see where his argument would end up. It paralleled some thoughts she had, especially after witnessing some of the inner life of the subsets in her viewings at the mystic library.


    ¡°...so if we assume that Rule Four and the Inside aren¡¯t connected, then there¡¯s a different question.¡± He looked at her expectantly as he finished.


    She worked her thoughts out as she spoke. ¡°If the Inside does all these great things for humanity, what does Guardian get out of it? Maybe it¡¯s a kindness? Or keeping us out of trouble? But it¡¯s an awful lot of processing power.¡±


    A phrase from her latest version of Rule Four kept passing through her thoughts as she spoke.


    <hr>


    The continued existence of biological humanity as fruitful alien awarenesses.


    <hr>


    Fruitful. As in productive. What do we produce?


    Alien. As in foreign. Other. Why does that matter?


    Marcus took her pause as his cue. ¡°I think it¡¯s important to keep in mind that Guardian is a fundamentally alien intelligence. Any motives or patterns we think we see may simply be reflections of ourselves. That said, there are certain patterns...¡±


    She tuned him out after the word ¡®alien¡¯.


    Guardian needs, no, prefers, entities that don¡¯t belong to it. Uses them somehow.


    ¡°Marcus, have you ever heard of an Insider cultivating?¡±


    Marcus, caught in mid-stream, stuttered for a moment before pivoting to Lilijoy¡¯s question.


    ¡°Ah, well, you see... yes. Anyone who spends time with the subsets begins to notice that they develop certain... what¡¯s the word, themes? That is, in fact, the primary reason I wanted to talk to you about this. It is my belief that we provide something that aids in their development. Something, and this is all speculation mind you, something that works in much the same way that ¡®experience¡¯ works for us. You catch references to it here and there; a demon who cultivates pain, or a warrior who cultivates courage.¡±


    ¡°So you think it¡¯s not just a figure of speech? When I was experiencing the Sacking of Averdale...¡± she saw Marcus wince, ¡°...one of the viewpoints, Zeritha was her name, thought about the Elven King cultivating peace, serenity and unity. At the time I figured it was just another way of saying the royal family was peaceful, but it¡¯s been bothering me ever since. I guess it got my attention since cultivating is a pretty important part of my life these days.¡±


    ¡°I spent decades of my life Inside. I¡¯m sure you remember the mixed feelings I have about that.¡± Marcus replied. ¡°What I didn¡¯t tell you at the time was that I became convinced that Guardian wants humans on the Inside. That our presence there serves a purpose. I believe that the primary reason Alchemy works the way it does is to allow us to build more systems Outside, and thus allow more humans Inside.¡±


    Lilijoy could feel her mind making connections. ¡°So the Academy has far more Outsiders than Insiders...¡±


    Marcus finished her thought. ¡°Perhaps for much the same reason the savanna once had more antelopes than lions.¡±


    A chill began to go down Lilijoy¡¯s spine, then changed its mind and went back up.


    ¡°No. That doesn¡¯t feel quite right," she said. "It¡¯s not a predator and prey relationship. If it¡¯s anything at all, it¡¯s some kind of symbiosis. The subsets get something from being around Outsiders, so Guardian wants more Outsiders Inside.¡± She searched her extended memory for analogies. ¡°Maybe we¡¯re like a microbiome.¡±


    Marcus hmphed. ¡°You mean we¡¯re helping Guardian with some kind of process, like digestion? That¡¯s a sobering concept, that humanity¡¯s role in the universe is helping a higher being stay regular.¡±


    He chuckled without humor. ¡°I must admit, I have a strong bias against seeing Guardian as a beneficent overlord, and my theories tend towards the sinister. Having one¡¯s entire family wiped out in an instant by Guardian¡¯s space weapons doesn¡¯t inspire much reverence.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Marcus, I¡¯m-¡± Lilijoy began saying.


    He interrupted with a raised palm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, dear. It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge, and I¡¯d just as soon not discuss it. It¡¯s part of the reason I don¡¯t go Inside anymore though. If Guardian gets something out of it, and I am convinced it does, then it¡¯s the one thing I can do to resist.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you study Guardian?¡±


    ¡°I suppose that I have been obsessed with understanding the architect of my sorrows for many years. I don¡¯t conceive of it as an enemy or anything like that. I study Guardian for the same reason people used to study earthquakes and hurricanes.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure that Marcus was being honest with himself. She could see microexpressions of rage and contempt on his tightly controlled face.


    He continued. ¡°You could even say that you and I met due to my studies. I was investigating the factory mine at the time.¡±


    This was new information. With implications.


    ¡°Wait, the factory mine is from Guardian? I thought it belonged to the Corp.¡±


    The factory mine had been such a constant of Lilijoy¡¯s existence growing up that she really hadn¡¯t given it much thought. It moved so slowly across the landscape that it hadn¡¯t covered more than a few miles since she became aware of its existence at a young age.


    ¡°Oh, the Corp makes use of the products. They¡¯ve built a whole little economy around them since they first started showing up thirty years ago. And there¡¯s not just one of them. There are thousands of factory mines all around the globe.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a little embarrassed to ask. ¡°What do the factory mines make?¡±


    ¡°Refined materials from reclaimed waste of various kinds. Most of them are found on former landfill sites or the remains of cities. But there are a few oddities, outliers, I guess you would call them. Factory mines in the middle on nowhere, in deserts or resource poor areas, such as the one by your former home. There are some theories that they are performing some kind of followup sterilization procedure, as many of the resource poor sites are near former outbreak areas.¡±


    ¡°So the place I grew up...¡±


    ¡°Evidently a major outbreak site at some point. To me, it looks like the area was saturated with microwave lasers, probably even a small nuke, judging by the background rads. That puts it before Guardian, most likely, as Guardian never uses nukes or kinetic weapons; too much chance of dispersal I suppose. Why there was a nano-outbreak in the remote Amazon I can¡¯t imagine. People back then just thought differently it seems.¡±


    Lilijoy sat down on a nearby box, one of many in the storage room. It felt like the information swirling in her head had an almost tangible weight, forcing her knees to bend. It was almost as if there was an outline of something, some heavy hidden factor pressing down upon her. She let the threads of information interweave and mingle in the background of her mind, while she distracted her linear thought process.


    The monastery was largely self sufficient, though they did need to bring in feedstock and biomass. The storage room held their reserves, should they ever be cut off from the ingredients they needed to make food and other essentials. She was planning to hitch a ride on a supply trip, just to the edge of the ice tunnels, and there meet Anda.


    She still hadn¡¯t made up her mind what to do after that. She was waffling between driving straight to Colombia or returning to the Piles. Going to Colombia would allow her to move quickly if she learned Attaboy¡¯s location, and it was also where she would need to go even if the operation failed.


    The second option, driving to the Piles, was not attractive to her, but she knew she would need to go home eventually. Not only to get better insight on a host of persistent mysteries, but also to stock up on more raw materials for her system. The Tao system used a variety of rare earth elements that were not easily available. In her research on the subject, she had discovered that the only place she could even begin to find the mix she needed would probably be an old electronics dump or something of that nature. Or she could go home, where she had gotten her original supply.


    There. That¡¯s it.


    That was the missing thread. It was amazing how well her mind solved problems when she thought about other things.


    It was something that had bothered her for some time now, the source of her rare earths. How oddly convenient it was that her body contained relatively large amounts of the very building blocks her system needed. While many of these elements were not particularly toxic, others were, particularly to the lungs and skin. There was no doubt in her mind that the source was the Piles.


    So why did the waste products of the factory mine contain a large quantity of rare earth elements? It wasn¡¯t a natural phenomenon, and even if it was, wouldn¡¯t the factory mine have some use for them? Why poison the environment by strewing toxic waste in its wake?


    This was where she hit a brick wall in her past musings.


    Now she had a few windows in that wall, maybe even a door.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 3: Plane

    Interlude: Nykka


    ¡°Mumo!¡±


    Attaboy¡¯s voice interrupted Nykka¡¯s kata. She turned to glare at him, bokken still over her head.


    ¡°You look just like him. Aside from the tails and the whole dog face thing.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°He¡¯s not a dog. He¡¯s a kitsune, a fox.¡±


    Attaboy stood there for a moment with a blank look on his face. She could only assume he was researching the topic.


    ¡°Umm, I think kitsune are kind of supposed to be furry. And, well, you know. Foxes.¡±


    ¡°He got stuck. Tried to advance his bloodline with a spell or something. Anyway, did you just come here to yell his name at me?¡±


    ¡°I guess I did. I¡¯ve been trying to figure out why you made your eyes white like that, and then I met Mumo, and it all clicked. He says hello by the way.¡±


    She felt her face soften, just a bit. It had been a year since she last talked to Mumo, and she missed him.


    ¡°Please say hello back.¡± She lowered the bokken. ¡°Be nice to him. He can help you more than you might think.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he was sort of a jerk to me, until I told him about you. Then it was smooth sailing.¡±


    ¡°So you made it through the Trial. How¡¯d it go?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°What a mindfuck. Those poor kids. Still, I did well enough I guess.¡±


    Guess I¡¯m talking to grown-up Attaboy.


    She had come to realize that Attaboy had two different faces he showed to the world. One was an innocent, if not ignorant gob boy, while the other¡­ well, among other things, the other swore a lot more.


    ¡°Already learned to keep your results close to your chest, eh?¡±


    ¡°Seems like a good idea. You think it¡¯ll get back to the good doctor that I¡¯m at the Academy?¡±


    ¡°Sooner or later. Please tell me you used a different name Inside.¡±


    ¡°Of course. I called myself ¡®Finch¡¯.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 3: Plane


    The ice tunnels were more impressive the second time around, certainly less horrible. The lights of the craft reflected from every surface, a display of dazzling sparks flashing off of the blurring walls.


    It was a terrible place for satellite reception, but an excellent place for reflection.


    Lilijoy was glad she had the opportunity to slow down, to turn off the racing circuits of her brain and experience life at the pace nature intended. She imagined it was familiar to the way the people of earlier times deliberately consumed ethyl alcohol to interfere with their neural function.


    Sometimes it just felt right to turn off your brain.


    She had spent the last day preparing to leave, saying goodbye to Savitri and her room, saying goodbye to the monastery and Cochabamba.


    And of course to Marcus.


    Her thoughts drifted over their last conversation again, so full of new information, new pieces to the puzzles that surrounded her. She still couldn¡¯t decide if it meant that she should return to the Piles or run away from them. She didn¡¯t feel like there was a great risk of somehow losing her identity at this point, but there were still many unknowns; venturing back there could expose her to unpredictable dangers.


    She was much more worried about Attaboy, assuming he was even alive. She could only guess that his system had far more extensive memories and experiences belonging to Atticus Choi. She had been fortunate, in a way, to receive a cast-off hand-me-down of a system.


    It was frustrating to work from so many assumptions. Maybe Attaboy didn¡¯t have Atticus¡¯ system at all. For all she knew, he had the same thing she did, with memories from Emily. It was just¡­


    It¡¯s like what Rosemallow said, that I never did anything or had an original thought in my life before I got the system.


    She knew that wasn¡¯t really true, but it certainly wasn¡¯t completely false either. It was as if she had been raised to have as little in her mind as possible, not even words for gender for goodness sake, while her body was trained to be strong.


    I didn¡¯t even speak in the first person. There was no ¡®I¡¯.


    Except the whole thing was twisted somehow. She also grew up in a harsh environment full of toxins and mutagens, with inadequate nutrition. It was as if someone was following a plan to replace Emily blindly, with no acknowledgment of the current realities. Of course, that someone would have to be working with or through Mooster and Grabby.


    She decided to pull up her new system status, hoping that looking at it would help her decide what to do next, to see if she was ready. Plus, it was still fun to see it all laid out.


    <table width="367" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353" height="160">


    STATUS: Disciple


    Stage One:


    Nanobody count: 2,672,891


    Integration: 96%


    Stage Two:


    Replication Units: 382


    FLOPS Equivalent: 10^17


    Integration: 68%


    Secondary/Support: 4 identified


    Communications: Stealth Mode


    Sensors: Passive


    RE Reserves: 0


    Personal Quantification: Ranking Display


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353">Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    She hadn¡¯t changed the status screen much at all from the original system, mostly because she liked the reminder of how far she had come. She could still remember the days of ¡°URGENT ATTENTION NEEDED¡± and it felt great to see the huge numbers she had achieved.


    Similarly, the ranking display...


    <hr>


    Tao System Ranking Display


    Rank 1 (Senses): 10


    Can advance with physical augmentation


    Sight: 10


    Hearing: 10


    Smell/Taste: 8


    Expand molecular database


    Touch: 10


    Proprioception: 9


    Improve fine motor skills


    Synergy: No longer defined


    Rank 2 (Brain): 10


    Rank 3 (Reflexes): 9/10


    Myelin enhancement in progress (83%)


    Unconscious response to stimuli ~7x


    (Biological/Redundant)


    Rank 4 (Blood): 2/2


    Oxygen carrying capacity ~ 30x


    Rapid clotting for injuries ~ 10x


    Limited independent motility


    Rank 5 (Skin): 4/10


    Vital areas fully protected


    Abdominal coverage 50%


    Work on :


    Flexibility for legs, arms and face


    Chemical synthesis and secretion


    Rank 6-10


    Requires secondary system


    Rank 11 Brain II:


    Internal subjective time: ~x30


    External subjective time: ~x10


    Parallel Narrative Consciousness: 2+


    External data accessible at speeds comparable to memory


    Work on


    Background anticipatory modeling


    Dedicated sub-processing units


    Connections, dependencies and meaning in external data sets


    Rank 12 Medical/Tissue:


    Current repository 872 Billion Grade 4 equivalent


    Precancerous cells eliminated


    Environmental effects mitigated


    Genetic damage inventoried


    Up to moderate tissue damage repaired ~x20


    Work on rapid skin pigment control


    Rank 13 External


    Satellite storage system


    Work on:


    Improve external viability


    Purposeful mobility and projection


    Entangled particle communication system


    <hr>


    These days, it served as a combination of trophy shelf and to-do list. She was especially enjoying her work on the med bugs. They weren¡¯t incredibly sophisticated, compared to the Tao system flowers, and for that reason, she was able to understand them and tinker with them more easily. She was fairly sure that she would be able to duplicate their core functions with Tao system units, once she understood them better. In fact, she was so close that she wondered why Henry or Gabrielle hadn¡¯t done it already.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Unfortunately, after the review of her status she still didn¡¯t know where to go first.


    Maybe it¡¯s anxiety about Averdale.


    She knew she could easily turn off her fears about the coming infiltration attempt. In fact, it was tempting to do so. However, she also knew that those fears were grounded in reality, and she was reluctant to disable a legitimate warning process from her deeper mind.


    Her ability to split her consciousness had given her a great appreciation of the unconscious processes in her brain. There were still many times each day when she relied on intuition to aid her thought process, and intuition, after all, was just another word for the work the brain does when it isn¡¯t telling itself stories.


    It fascinated her that agency and creativity didn¡¯t always come from the same place, and that she seemed to solve many of her most difficult problems when she wasn¡¯t thinking about them, even as more and more processing power came under her deliberate control. Consciousness, as far as she could tell, was inherently linear, and the real trick was deciding how that linear strand could weave in and out of the greater pool of time-independent associations her mind was still forming.


    As far as her feelings about Averdale, well, those seemed entirely reasonable. The events of the instanced travel were encouraging, everything after the vorpal crows anyway. Her little band had faced their challenges, and for the most part they had done well. It didn¡¯t change the fact that they were vastly underpowered and underinformed.


    Though to hear Magpie talk about it, they knew everything, or rather, she knew everything they needed in order to succeed. That didn¡¯t give Lilijoy any confidence at all, of course. If she examined the ebb and flow of her neurochemicals in response to various thought stimuli, it wasn¡¯t hard to see the real source of her anxiety.


    She needed to confront Magpie.


    Turning off her anxiety helped, but it was only a temporary measure. There was a real injury there, and turning off the resulting pain didn¡¯t make it go away. It needed to be addressed, should have been addressed before they even left on the journey.


    No, that¡¯s not fair. I decided to raise her sunk costs on this expedition, make it a greater crisis for her. She needs to have met with her connections and made the final arrangements. If she is planning a betrayal, she needs to feel like she is on the cusp of success. It¡¯s the best leverage I have.


    She still had at least twelve hours remaining of her ice tunnel journey, so she pulled up the scenes from the granite-topped peak, the mirrored plane, eager for the chance to re-experience them at her leisure and forget her troubles. Soon she was standing at the edge of sparkling black that stretched to the horizon and joined the sky. At her side stood Jessila, with Skria perched on one broad shoulder, and Magpie, who crouched to test the surface with outstretched hand.


    The stillness of the moment felt like frozen time, but all too soon, Magpie¡¯s hand knocked upon the solid surface.


    ¡°It¡¯s really stone.¡± she whispered.


    Lilijoy had to test it for herself. She reached out with her foot and took a first step onto the surface, still not quite believing she wouldn¡¯t fall through to the sky below.


    ¡°Is it slippery?¡± asked Skria, also in a whisper. It seemed none of them dared to break the quiet, to challenge the soft hiss of the wind with their coarse voices.


    ¡°Not really,¡± replied Lilijoy as she committed the other foot. ¡°I bet it would be if it were wet though.¡±


    ¡°Has anyone heard of anything like this?¡± asked Magpie.


    No one responded, and by silent consensus, the party walked out over the stars.


    They hadn¡¯t walked for long before Skria called out softly.


    ¡°Lights ahead.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see what she meant, being much closer to the stone. She froze, as did they all.


    ¡°It¡¯s coming this way, on the ground.¡±


    It almost felt like sacrilege to Lilijoy, calling this pristine expanse ¡®ground¡¯.


    She saw the light a few moments later, a dim pool of radiance just above the surface. It meandered slowly in their direction.


    ¡°Should we run?¡± hissed Magpie, backing away.


    Skria gasped, and Lilijoy nearly bolted before she realized it was wonder and not fear she heard in her friends voice.


    She stood on her toes and craned her neck, to see a circle of light several feet across... no a wheel of pale green luminescence with dozens of spokes, gently turning. While the light was visible just above the surface, the wheel itself was just under the stone, drifting toward their feet.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch it!¡± This was Magpie too, of course.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to avoid the wheel as it drifted lazily in their direction. It moved no more than half a foot every second. Though it did seem to be following them.


    ¡°I think it likes you, Jess.¡± Lilijoy heard Skria whisper.


    It was true. The wheel had adjusted its course several times to stay close to Jessila, ignoring Magpie and Lilijoy.


    ¡°Here comes another,¡± Magpie whispered.


    The second glowing creature to arrive was also radial in shape, a nine pointed star only a bit smaller than their first visitor. The party kept walking at a slow pace, and the two beings did their best to follow, quickly falling behind. It was no matter though, for soon another arrived, and then several more, in a variety of symmetrical shapes, all glowing just a bit brighter than the reflection of the night sky above. Soon the girls were stepping over and around dozens of them.


    Later, she would feel silly for taking so long to realize, though it was entirely understandable, due to her limited height and the scale of the whole thing.


    ¡°These are plankton! Really, really huge phytoplankton.¡±


    And well, phytoplanton were plants, more or less, and Lilijoy was Lilijoy, so the next step was pretty much inevitable.


    She reached out.


    There was contact. Just a flash of the simplest organism she had yet to contact. There was no other mind, only a single drive to absorb, feed from the ambient resource. It wasn¡¯t even hunger, just an impulse to move to where the flowing source was strongest.


    And then it was over.


    ¡°Lily! What are you doing,¡± Skria yelled.


    Each one of the glowing beings moved toward Lilijoy where she stood, clustering around her feet. She stood at the center of a swarm of living mandalas, their light cast upwards onto her small form.


    It was glorious.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, everyone.¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re harmless. They feed on ambient Mana, probably from the starlight. They aren¡¯t nearly strong enough to take any from us. But watch this!¡±


    She sent a trickle of prana into the stone around her feet. The mandalas shook and danced, jostling to get closer to the rich source of nutrients. Their glow brightened and several began to divide on the spot. Lilijoy began to dance in a circle and the bright wheels and stars traced her feet, spinning and vibrating in response to her movement.


    ¡°Um, Lily, I hate to be the downer here,¡± said Magpie, interrupting the moment. ¡°But aren¡¯t plankton kind of at the base of the food chain?¡±


    As if summoned by her words, dozens of new creatures appeared out of the night, just at the edge of Lilijoy¡¯s senses. She immediately moved into flash and sped her thoughts to assess the latest threat, focusing on the closest. It slid over the stone, exactly how she couldn¡¯t tell, a carpet of waving spikes as tall as her. A faint susurration accompanied its movement, movement, she came to realize, that was not very much faster than that of the giant plankton, a slow walk at the fastest.


    Still, those spikes looked nasty. Thin and long, they looked like something that might break off in a wound. They rippled down the creature¡¯s back in waves, reminding her of Professor Anaskafius¡¯ quills writ large.


    She split off a small part of her mind to translate her thoughts into intelligible speech for the slow people around her.


    ¡°Let¡¯s withdraw from the plankton.¡± Mentally, she was already calling them mandalas. ¡°We don¡¯t want to get surrounded by these new things.¡±


    She began to follow her own plan, and the others stood and stared at her for an eternity.


    I never knew that thinking fast would make everyone around me so annoying! I¡¯ve got to figure out how I can communicate more efficiently.


    It occurred to her that they might not even be aware of the new arrivals. Still, they slowly turned and began to follow her. She had plenty of time to think since even her own movements were molasses.


    Maybe we can work out some codes in advance. Like if I make a certain sound, it means retreat. Then another for drop to the ground and so forth. Then we can drill to get their reaction times faster.


    She knew that she was always going to be the quickest to react, and she had the most effective senses as well. It only made sense for her to take on the role of the early warning system for the group.


    Lets see, she thought as her leg rose through space to take another step. How much would I need to raise my Flash so that this wasn¡¯t so annoying? Every twenty points adds another hundred percent. I guess I¡¯d need Flash of about eighty to even get halfway. That¡¯s forty-three more points, so if I¡¯m efficient, I won¡¯t get there until level fifty-three. I wonder if I could use my direct points all at once? That¡¯s probably what they do, ignore the leveling restriction. I wonder if they raise the trait by twenty, or if they¡¯re divided by the starting point cost?


    By this point, her knee was beginning to descend.


    Still, there¡¯s probably something better I could do with them. If they raise the trait directly, it would make more sense to use them on something expensive, like Charm: Sentients.


    Jiannu, what do you think? she asked.


    I think you need to figure out a better way to handle the extra time than working on your character sheet or talking to me during combat situations, Jiannu replied.


    What about boosting our patience?


    Patience is a tricky quality, not so much an emotion on its own. Its more like a specific range of several overlapping emotions combined with flow, focus and a rich internal life.


    Well that¡¯s the problem. I have so much time that I don¡¯t need focus, and the task environment is chaotic and not conducive to flow.


    I think you should practice anticipatory modeling.


    Anticipatory modeling was a major item on the list of Stage Two abilities she wanted to develop.


    Perfect.


    She captured her current external sensory data and created an internal space for her model. All of the mandalas and the new creatures appeared, along with Bayesian projections of their current path based on their past movements. Her internal sense of time lurched forward as her new model consumed her processing capabilities.


    It''s a good thing those creatures are slow.


    She estimated that if she wanted to predict more than a couple seconds of future events with so many variables, she would end up thinking too slowly to react to her prediction. In this case it didn¡¯t matter. The new creatures were converging on the mandalas and seemed to be ignoring her party.


    I really need a name for these things. Spiky slug urchins? Splurchins?


    She used Scan, but nothing came to her.


    Huh. Splurchins it is, I guess.


    She pulled herself out of her enhanced state and communicated the new information to the others as they all continued to retreat. When they had reached a good distance, they turned to watch the newly christened splurchins begin to feed on the mandalas. At least that¡¯s what seemed to be happening; the creatures worked almost like giant erasers as they passed over the glowing circles, leaving only darkness in their wake. That and a trail of brilliant, gleaming granite from thousands of cilia that polished and cleaned the granite underneath them.


    What an amazing ecosystem. These creatures must be responsible for shaping this entire area. I wonder if they do it to attract their food source?


    She was a little worried about the impressive spikes though. Clearly, there were predators that threatened the splurchins.


    This is the Inside, and instanced travel after all. It¡¯s only a matter of time before there¡¯s something that will threaten us.


    ***


    After several hours of walking across the starry plane, the group was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I want to be attacked,¡± Magpie was saying. ¡°But I can¡¯t help feeling that the longer it takes, the worse it¡¯s going to be.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still just the first day,¡± said Skria.


    ¡°I like this place.¡± added Jessila.


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if the comment or its content were more surprising. Jessila hadn¡¯t been speaking much since their travels started.


    ¡°What do you mean, Jess?¡± she asked.


    She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s calm. Deep.¡±


    Lilijoy felt it too. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s our high earth affinity?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know. Maybe.¡±


    Their conversation, such as it was, was interrupted by a new sound, a growing drum roll of clicks.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± Magpie said. ¡°It¡¯s about time.¡±

 Supplemental: Inside Rules

    Natural traits


    Derived from unaugmented Outside traits and change in reaction to play.


    Average humans are around 20.


    <table border="1pt solid rgb(163, 163, 163)" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Trait</td>


    <td>Human Range</td>


    <td></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Strength</td>


    <td>1-100</td>


    <td>Newborn to world record holder. Adds to damage +1 per 5 points</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Constitution</td>


    <td>1-100</td>


    <td>Newborn to ultra marathon champion (Outside rank has no effect)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Speed</td>


    <td>1-100</td>


    <td>Crawling baby to Usain Bolt (some bonus from Rank)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Kinesthetic awareness</td>


    <td>1-100</td>


    <td>Newborn to Olympic gymnast, physical skills learned faster (+ % multiple) (Rank has a large impact)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td>Health/HP</td>


    <td>Str+Con (+ VIT)</td>


    <td>Only goes up with Con and/or Str</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Magical traits


    Starting level determined by Trial, change through points available by level.


    Each trait has a starting cost and follows the fibonacci sequence for every subsequent point (1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21) (unless noted 1,1 the next number is 2)


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2">


    <tbody>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Trait


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Effect


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    Raising cost for first three points per level


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Power


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    +5% of STR per point (20 POW = +100% STR)


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Flash


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    +5% of Speed per point


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Elemental Immunity/Affinity


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Affinity level assigns cost to raise.


    Immunity is to elemental magic.


    Individual affinities are not related, could be all tier I or tier IV, however conflicting elements are common (high fire = lower water)


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    Tiers:


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>IV 0 - 30</td>


    <td>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>8</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>III 31 - 55</td>


    <td>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>II 56 - 80</td>


    <td>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>I above 81</td>


    <td>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Invulnerability


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Pure damage subtraction from physical attack only


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Vitality


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Added to HP, alsoresistance to poison and disease


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Mana Well


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Mana reserves


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    per 5 points added


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Mana Gathering


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Percentage of Mana regained per 100 seconds


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Under 5


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    <td>5 - 10


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>8</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>10 - 20


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>13</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    <td>21 - 40


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>13</td>


    <td>21</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>41-100


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>13</td>


    <td>21</td>


    <td>34</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    <td>100+


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>21</td>


    <td>34</td>


    <td>55</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Charm: Sentients


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">(Skill level VP/Opponent Skill VP) x


    (Charm/Opponent charm) = Influence %</td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>8</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Charm: AnimalsLove this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">(Skill level VP/Instinct) x


    (Charm/Opponent charm) = Influence %</td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Charm: Plants


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">(Skill level VP/Instinct) x


    (Charm/Opponent charm) = Influence %</td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in">


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Charm: Monsters*


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in">


    Considered as a blend of other Charm traits


    e.g. Goblin is 80/20/0, Dryad is 70/0/30


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in"></td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Skill Ranks:


    Natural skill level indicates a persons actual knowledge of the subject.


    Magi skill level indicates the magical effect that may be added.


    The two are multiplied to determine the Value Points (VP) for the skill. These points are applied in a variety of ways, depending on the skill in question. Outcomes may also be affected by the material used or other contexts.


    Mana usage is determined by the skill in question. Typically crafting skills use VP mana points, while martial and physical skills use Magi level mana points.


    The skill user may use any amount of VP up to their maximum.


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>Magi Level of Skill</td>


    <td></td>


    <td>Natural Level of Skill</td>


    <td></td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Natural</td>


    <td>1</td>


    <td>Novice</td>


    <td>1</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Upgraded</td>


    <td>2</td>


    <td>Initiate</td>


    <td>2</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Augmented</td>


    <td>3</td>


    <td>Apprentice</td>


    <td>3</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Enhanced</td>


    <td>5</td>


    <td>Journeyman</td>


    <td>5</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Illustrious</td>


    <td>8</td>


    <td>Expert</td>


    <td>8</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Illuminated</td>


    <td>13</td>


    <td>Master</td>


    <td>13</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td>Enlightened</td>


    <td>21</td>


    <td>Grand Master</td>


    <td>21</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Magic


    Source: Elemental power that fuels the spell


    Clade: The type of power channeled


    Class: The primary way that power is manipulated


    Spell: The final level of detail


    A complete spell requires all four parts. Each may be at a different level of mastery, using the same ranks as the natural skills. The points of each are multiplied to determine final effect.


    Mana usage = Spell points, but each level of mastery above novice at the source level halves usage. A Spellcaster could have a fireball spell at 4, projected class at 2, flame clade at 3 and Fire Source at 2 (Spell points 48, 24 mana used). The spell points could reflect damage on a direct hit, or be used to cover a larger area at reduced damage.


    Higher level spellcasters can use lower points than their maximum at their discretion.


    <table width="423" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2">


    <tbody>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Source


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Clade


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Class


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Spell


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    5*


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    3*


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    2*


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    1* (*points to raise - however, the component must be learned before the points may be spent.)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Fire


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Flame


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Projected


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Fireball


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Fire


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Heat


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Shaped


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Fire


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Radiance


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Shaped


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Earth


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Mass


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Magnitude


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Alter Gravity


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Earth


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Matter


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Shaped


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Earth


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Aspect


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Altered


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Water


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Phase


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Projected


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Water


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Pressure


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Shaped


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229"></td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Water


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Aspect


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Fused


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Breathe Water


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Water


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Matter


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Summoned


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Create water


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Air


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Pressure


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Summoned


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Forceful Wind


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Air


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Pressure


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Shaped


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Vacuum bubble


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Air


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Aspect


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Altered


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Poison Cloud


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr valign="top">


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="41">


    Air


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="65">


    Charge


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.02in" width="70">


    Projected


    </td>


    <td style="border: 1.00pt solid #a3a3a3; padding: 0.06in" width="229">


    Lightning Bolt


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>

 Book 2.5: Chapter 4: Sea

    Viewing her memories from the safety of a cargo craft deep beneath the Andean ice allowed Lilijoy a more leisurely assessment of the creature attached to the new sound. She remembered her first impression though.


    Legs. Really long legs. So many really long legs.


    Really, the creature did resemble one of her all time favorites, the rambling opiliones, commonly known as daddy long-legs. She found their gait utterly charming as they clambered along the forest floor. There was something intrinsically humorous and endearing about the way their tiny bodies bounced around, to her anyway.


    The being, and in this case she was even prepared to use the word monster, that appeared out of the night possessed extremely long limbs in relation to its body. However, it shared none of the other qualities she enjoyed in her tiny forest ramblers. Its gait was smooth and rippling, distributed among dozens of impossibly long, lightly stepping legs. Its body, held high above the ground was oval and finely faceted underneath, with a single long spike descending from the middle.


    The sound that announced its arrival had been footsteps blended together in a continuous rolling snare of soft-edged clicks. Scan once again failed to show anything.


    Can an ability break? Or is it something about instanced travel? I¡¯d at least like to know the name for these things.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get under it!¡± Lilijoy called out. ¡°It¡¯ll drop on you.¡±


    It seemed obvious enough that the creature preyed upon the splurchins. Its long legs could keep it above the spikes, while its own spike, probably a proboscis or something similar, was long enough to penetrate to the splurchin¡¯s body.


    Or skewer me from head to toe.


    While she spoke, she tried to build a model of the monster¡¯s movements. It wasn¡¯t a trivial endeavor, as the thirty-two legs each had three joints and the body suspended high above her head swiveled and darted back and forth. It was much faster than the splurchins, too, closing half the distance to the cohort by the time Lilijoy finished her warning to the others.


    It¡¯s faster than Jess. Looks like running away is off the table.


    Lilijoy did her best to incorporate her party in her anticipatory model as she waited for the creature¡¯s arrival. Skria was already in the air, headed away from the creature while she gained altitude. Lilijoy saw Swoot fly to meet her, barely visible even to her enhanced senses. Magpie had already disappeared, and Jessila was pulling out the enormous length of ironwood that Rosemallow had given her a few days before their journey.


    Here we go!


    A feeling of intense excitement passed through her. This was nothing like the fight with the vorpal crows, which had made her feel powerless and frustrated, or even the various moldy creatures she had fought in the scenario. This was epic combat with a monster fifty times her size. She didn¡¯t know if she could hurt it, but she planned to have fun trying.


    Spiked feet rained around her as she twisted and dodged. The monster seemed to prefer a highly vertical step, but she stayed alert for signs it might kick or sweep with one of its many limbs. So far, it seemed that her anticipatory model wasn¡¯t worth the loss of mental speed, but that wasn¡¯t a surprise, given that it was an unfamiliar opponent and a new way to use her system.


    She took a couple seconds to find the rhythm of the dance with her opponent before she threw her first Qi strike at a spindly leg. It succeeded beyond her expectations, shattering the hollow exoskeleton and removing the foot entirely.


    Huh. No resistance to lateral force. Guess that¡¯s why it doesn¡¯t kick.


    Behind her came a sound like a bundle of twigs snapping, and the creature above her lurched. Jessila had just swung her club and taken out four more legs.


    Immediately an explosion of liquid flew from the spike above them. Lilijoy saw it happen and launched herself into a diving roll, doing her best to escape the spray, which hissed and spat upon the stone and burned her skin.


    <hr>


    Stone Eating Acid inflicts


    5 HP Damage


    (INV ignored)


    <hr>


    She saw Jessila get a face full of the droplets and immediately stagger back. The creature was already on the move, high-stepping away from them as fast as its remaining legs could carry it.


    Wait. That¡¯s it?


    Skria drifted down from the sky. ¡°Um, not that I¡¯m complaining, but...¡±


    Jess was flicking the caustic liquid off her hand. ¡°Burns a little,¡± she observed.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Magpie added as she emerged from wherever.


    Lilijoy watched the uneven bumbling gait of the not-so-monstrous monster as it ran away from them. There it is. Now it looks just like a Daddy Long-Legs.


    ¡°Does anyone else wonder why its legs are so long?¡± she asked. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t need to be that far above the splurchins.¡±


    Magpie gave her a look. ¡°There are a few things wrong with what you just said,¡± she started.


    That was when something came up through the stone and swallowed the retreating creature whole.


    There was a stunned silence.


    ¡°Does it matter which direction we travel?¡± Lilijoy whispered after a while. ¡°Because I would like to go very far from what we just saw.¡±


    ***


    An hour of very soft treading later, the party was still on the plain. Skria was flying above them, trying to keep an eye out, though according to her, flying above the unbroken reflection of the stone was disorienting and she wasn¡¯t confident she could see anything.


    ¡°Has anyone else noticed that Swoot is completely useless?¡± asked Magpie, after enough time had elapsed for her to feel irritation rather than terror.


    ¡°What, you mean he disappears and hides at the first sign of combat?¡± Lilijoy retorted.


    Magpie ignored the barb, if she even noticed. ¡°It¡¯s just that he doesn¡¯t warn us about danger, or help Skria scout, or¡­ I don¡¯t know. Isn¡¯t he supposed to do something?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s quiet. No voice,¡± said Jess.


    ¡°So he has that going for him,¡± added Lilijoy. She¡¯d been experimenting with snark lately, and thought she was getting the hang of it.


    The night was quiet again, with only the occasional mandala swimming by to light the way and Lilijoy turned her thoughts to the huge mass that had emerged from the stone to eat their former opponent.


    It¡¯s almost like an inside-out water ecosystem, a stone sea with the surface and the bottom folded together. Water striders, urchins and plankton on the surface. Bigger predators in the depths that surface to feed.


    Her attempts to figure out the creatures of the starry plain hadn¡¯t really paid off yet, but she was coming to understand that the Inside wasn¡¯t a series of random encounters, at least not this portion of it. There were interdependencies and relationships among the creatures, a full ecosystem that could be understood, and thus predicted.


    Never mind the utter impossibility of giant beasts that swam through stone.


    Although¡­


    ¡°Can we stop for a minute? I have something I want to try.¡±


    They got Skria¡¯s attention, and after some mild grumbling from Magpie, the party came to a halt. Lilijoy moved off a fair distance and lay on the cold surface, putting her ear to the stone. After a moment, she could hear faint static full of crackles, pops and the occasional rumble. She sped her thoughts to try and make sense of the mess.


    There could be four types of sound; environmental, movement, echolocation and communication. I need to figure out which are present and which is which.


    It was not a simple task. Even with her perfect recall and enhanced pattern matching abilities she could barely make sense of the subtle cacophony.


    Let see, the speed of sound in granite is about twenty times that of air. That won¡¯t effect the frequency of the sound though. It¡¯s kind of like how my thoughts can be faster without necessarily being smarter. Are there any echos?


    She listened for sounds with attenuated repetitions. The task was made more difficult by the transition from the stone surface to the air in her ear, so she mashed the side of her face as hard as she could against the granite. That helped a little, though it introduced new sounds into the mix as well.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    This is kind of silly, she realized. It¡¯s not like I can travel across the plain with one ear to the ground the entire time.


    An image of Jessila dragging her across the plain on her ear crossed her mind and she giggled.


    Even if I figure out what the big creatures sound like when they move, I don¡¯t know that an early warning would help much. I guess we could freeze until it passed, assuming they are attracted by surface vibrations.


    She was about to give up on her experiment, when one last thought occurred. She picked her head up and placed both hands flat on the ground, pouring every ounce of her system enhanced thought toward the sense of touch from her palms. Nandi¡¯s boon clicked when it touched the stone, and as always, she wondered, just for a second, if she would ever know what the embedded crystal did.


    At first, her pulse obliterated any other vibration, but it was trivial to filter that signal out, as well as the pressure and temperature from her skin¡¯s presence on the cold stone. With the interfering signals removed, she was in the touch equivalent of total darkness. Slowly, the darkness lifted as she tuned in the faint vibrations, focused and amplified them and passed them to her other senses.


    The static crackle and pop came into her hearing, and then she could see the patterns, the echos and reverberations, see them converge on sources of vibration, weak and powerful, near and far. Her mind began to map all the information onto her spatial sense and the picture that formed before her was like looking into a starry void or an endless chasm where vastness lurked and immensity played.


    She watched as leviathans moved through the stone, fused through the stone and she felt a pulse of energy, almost a concept made tangible, pass through her outstretched palms and enter her.


    <hr>


    Magic Class Discovered


    Fused


    <hr>


    New Ability Discovered


    Earthen Sight I (Very Rare)


    <hr>


    Lilijoy pulled her palms from the cold granite, momentarily overwhelmed by the depths below and the discoveries therein. She felt a wave of soothing pass through her from Jiannu, but even so, as she walked back to the others, she couldn¡¯t escape the feeling that she could sink into the vast depths beneath her at any moment, never to be seen again.


    She was also burning with curiosity about the stray bit of magic she had acquired, and her new Earthen Sight ability.


    It¡¯s a shame I can¡¯t trust Magpie. I¡¯ll have to ask Skria about it later. Now how do I explain what I just saw without revealing too much?


    ¡°So...the good news is that there aren¡¯t any giant earth creatures near us at the moment,¡± she said.


    ¡°And the bad?¡± asked Magpie.


    ¡°Not sure if it¡¯s bad exactly. There are all sizes of beings underneath us, but as far as I can tell, they don¡¯t know that we¡¯re here. I think we should keep walking softly and hope for the best.¡±


    ¡°So if more of those tall leg beasts come, we¡¯re pretty much screwed.¡±


    This reminded Lilijoy of something she had forgotten to ask the others.


    ¡°Did anyone else try to use Scan? Mine seems to be broken.¡±


    ¡°Mine didn¡¯t work either,¡± Skria piped in. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that some monsters can resist it, just the same way that we can hide our titles and so forth.¡±


    ¡°My trainer is obsessed with Scan,¡± Magpie added. ¡°She says that it¡¯s the most important ability to level up. But she also said that it doesn¡¯t always help against rare monsters, especially if very few people have encountered them. That¡¯s my operating theory for what¡¯s happening here.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s like there¡¯s a pool of knowledge, and when people discover something, they add to the pool and make it easier for everyone else,¡± Lilijoy conjectured. ¡°Do you think that this whole area was made just for us as part of the travel instance?¡±


    ¡°I think the travel instances use existing places, so I bet that this one is really remote or hard to get to. We might be some of the first people to ever find it,¡± Skria said.


    Lilijoy watched Jessila follow the conversation. It wasn¡¯t unusual for the big girl to remain completely silent while everyone else talked, but it always made Lilijoy wonder what she could possibly be thinking.


    ¡°What do you think about all this, Jessila?¡±


    Jessila looked down at her with a startled expression. ¡°I like it here. Nothing to break.¡±


    Her reply made Lilijoy a little sorry she had asked. Nonetheless, she persevered.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say something about it being ¡®deep¡¯ before?¡±


    ¡°I can feel it below us. Strong. Deep.¡±


    As she replayed her memories in the relative safety and less than ideal comfort of the cargo craft, Lilijoy winced at what she was about to do. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.


    ¡°Jess, can you try something for me?¡±


    Nod.


    Lilijoy patted the surface of the granite lightly.


    ¡°Try putting your hands on the stone.¡±


    Jess carefully lowered herself and placed her palms as Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Now, close your eyes, and try to tune out everything but the stone beneath you. See if you can feel anything from below.¡±


    The big girl closed her eyes. Lilijoy was rarely so close to her face, so she took a moment to look at her smooth features.


    It¡¯s really like someone put the most perfect skin over something terrifying.


    Jessila¡¯s face was still a bit unsettling to Lilijoy. It was just so¡­ not human, with nose and jaw pushed out as if a muzzle was trying to emerge. She was still looking when she saw the faint glow appear. For a moment, she thought it was a mandala coming up beneath them, but then she realized it was coming from Jessila¡¯s hair, the golden locks that were still tightly bound in Mr. Sennit¡¯s braids.


    It was at this point that she began to wonder if she had done something unwise.


    ¡°Um, Jess...¡±


    Behind her she heard Skria whisper. ¡°Why is Jess glowing?¡±, along with the barely discernible sound of Magpie backing away slowly.


    The light from Jessila¡¯s hair was flowing down her arms now, outlining her hands against the dark stone. Lilijoy was torn between interrupting more forcefully or waiting.


    This is what I get for experimenting when I have no idea what the possibilities are, she thought.


    Speeding up her mind simply gave her more time to be indecisive. When she noticed that the golden light from Jessila¡¯s hands was permeating into the granite, her internal stalemate broke.


    ¡°Jess!¡± she called, grabbing one of her arms.


    There was a pulse, a forceful presence that expanded out from Jessila, a round and resonant explosion. Lilijoy felt it through her bones.


    Utter stillness followed. Jessila opened her eyes.


    Then the reply came.


    Layer upon layer of force rose through the earth beneath their feet, and even as Lilijoy¡¯s vision wavered, she saw the granite surrounding them flow and ripple in concentric waves. She lost her balance, and when she put her hand down to catch herself she caught a glimpse of the vastness coming for them.


    And above that massive form, so large she could only perceive an edge, were other beings, fleeing in the only direction available to them. Up.


    ¡°Run!¡± she cried, somewhat uselessly. Magpie was long gone, Skria was already in the air, and Jessila didn¡¯t seem to have any awareness of her environment. She didn¡¯t take her own advice either. Instead she shook Jessila, even going so far as to slap her.


    ¡°Deep.¡± was all the response she got.


    Well, I¡¯m certainly not going to carry her and I can¡¯t abandon her. I guess a respawn¡¯s not the worst thing after all.


    It was amazingly easy to forget that the stakes were not very high. Although, somehow ¡®not dying¡¯ was the same as winning, which was always a compelling incentive.


    I wonder what I would do if I turned that motivation off. There¡¯s still a rational reason to avoid raising my death counter, but I have no way to calibrate it. How do I value an uncertain loss realized in the future?


    Lately she had become aware that uncertainty played an increasing role in her decision making. It was an odd phenomena, that emotions and irrationality actually made decision making easier. Without emotional impetus, there was less reason to decide without complete information.


    Does this mean that the smarter I get, the more paralyzed I will be, absent arbitrary factors? Is that exactly what¡¯s happening now, that I¡¯m having an internal discussion about the role of emotions in rational decision making instead of running as fast as I can out of fear?


    At that moment an arbitrary factor, in the form of a stone eel the size of a school bus breaching the surface, impinged on her thought process. She scanned it out of habit, and was pleasantly surprised that her ability worked.


    <hr>


    Elemental Stone Eel: Level 32


    HP: 790


    <hr>


    After which she was genuinely horrified by the results.


    And that¡¯s one of the small fry. It doesn¡¯t matter if they aren¡¯t after me. I¡¯ll end up a snack of opportunity.


    After the eel came a host of smaller creatures, Elemental Stone Eel Larvae according to her scan. They ranged from level ten to twenty, and were significantly smaller. The eel larvae were crystalline, almost transparent, and also quite flat; despite being about fifteen feet long, they only came up to her waist. Unlike their senior sibling, who wriggled across the stone for the horizon, they thrashed about, writhing and biting in blind panic.


    ¡°Jess? You back yet?¡± Lilijoy called.


    There was no response, and several of the eel larvae were about to roll over her friend. It seemed that once they got above the surface of the stone they were not always able to get back under.


    Lilijoy moved into Flash, and targeted the closest, launching her strongest Qi strike to see its effect.


    <hr>


    Qi Strike does 9 damage


    Stone Eel Larva HP: 231/240


    <hr>


    Well that¡¯s a drop in the bucket.


    She had a flashback to kicking moldy rats for a point or two of damage, only she sensed that critical hits were not going to happen this time around. To add insult to lack of injury, it seemed like the eel larvae hadn¡¯t noticed her attack at all.


    Lets see if it notices this.


    She launched a barrage of Qi strikes up the length of the eel larva, culminating with five shots to its head. If it had eyes, she would have targeted those, but as it was, she pounded away at the side of its face.


    <hr>


    Qi Strike Barrage does 104 damage


    Stone Eel Larva HP: 127/240


    <hr>


    The juvenile stone fish flipped and attempted to swim away, smashing its head onto the granite before it finally succeeded in slipping under.


    It probably just hurt itself worse than I did.


    It was satisfying to drive away such a tough enemy, albeit one without much in the way of effective offense against someone fast and small. Unfortunately there were several more on their way. From somewhere in the night sky above, Skria was casting Forceful Wind in a futile effort to knock the creatures back. She could hear the sound of metal on stone from where Magpie was fighting some distance away.


    She dashed back and forth around Jessila, trying to optimize the number of hits it took to cause the larvae to change direction. Even so, her mana was draining fast. Each hit only consumed three points, but she was dealing five or six at a time and already seeing the bottom of her well.


    The plane was full of writhing bodies in every direction, and larger denizens of the deep stone were arriving by the second. She had long since abandoned any attempt to model what was happening. Even with her mind working at top speed she was overwhelmed. There was no escape, no alternatives.


    Jiannu contacted her, momentarily pulled her away from her senses.


    Lilijoy, I¡¯ve been following your thoughts. Do you realize you are avoiding an obvious possible solution?


    Oh. Crap. Lets merge for this.


    I think that¡¯s best.


    They merged, and in the split second before she acted, Lilijoy could see the pattern of her previous thoughts, see the emotional structures diverting her creativity away from a certain action. Guilt, shame and affection twined and formed a wall in her definition of self, a barrier that had blocked her from conceiving of the possibility.


    I hope I don¡¯t regret this.


    Another part of her knew that regret was an emotion like any other, something she could easily remove.


    She ran, jumped and twisted through the air to land on Jessila¡¯s broad shoulders.


    She activated Two Minds One Self.

 Supplemental: Outside Ranks

    The Corp Ranking System uses ten ranks, each divided into ten levels of quality, to define the capacities of internal networked nanomachines known as ''bugs''.


    When Jiannu created a ranking display for Lilijoy, she modeled it on this, where the supporting systems are given a level equivalent. For example, Lilijoy''s Rank Four blood bugs have reached their maximum potential of level 2 (2/2), but her Rank Five skin bugs have reached an equivalent of Level 4 out of a maximum potential of level 10. (4/10)


    The Ranking Commission of Clans determines the rating of any particular system or subsystem. It is a somewhat arbitrary process influenced by politics and opinion.


    To purchase all ten Ranks can cumulatively cost as much as 30,545,000 credits for a top of the line system. To put this in perspective, the median annual income is around 1000 credits.


    <hr>


    Rank One: Senses and System


    Rank One contains the basic internal interface for the sensory replacement/augmentation system that allows Augsight and Virtual sensory experiences. Higher levels of Rank One include sensory enhancement, even extending into the optic nerve and retina.


    A basic suite does sight and hearing overlay/replacement, limited touch simulation, and pain as well as reading motor impulses. Such minimal systems cost as little as 5000 credits.


    More advanced systems may have one or more of the following abilities:


    Sight: Augmented reality overlays, basic through active tactical enhancements), Spectrum enhancement (IR, UV), Visual augmentation (telescope, microscope, remote, peripheral focus)Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Hearing: sensitivity, spectrum analysis, active or passive echolocation.


    Smell and Taste: enhanced sensitivity and chemical analysis.


    Touch: Sensitivity (braillle, air currents, pleasure)


    Proprioception/balance: sensitivity, repeatability, spatial awareness/mapping mirroring, motor impulse monitor


    <hr>


    Rank Two: Brain


    Pain block (from general to specific), Control of internal senses such as hunger and thirst, ability to modulate primary neurochemicals responsible for mood (dopamine, serotionin, endorphins etc.) . (10,000 to 40,000 credits)


    <hr>


    Rank Three: Reflexes


    Reflex movements are connected to enhanced senses by hardwired circuits, along with some acceleration of the motor cortex. The Tao System (Stage One) enhances the brains myelin to allow significantly greater impulse speed along commonly used neural circuitry. (60,000 to 80,000 credits)


    <hr>


    Rank Four: Blood: Enhanced oxygen retention/distribution (10 to 60 minutes breath holding), better lactic acid management, less anaerobic muscle use leads to much greater endurance (400 meter pace maintained indefinitely = 1h 45m marathon, control of blood flow/coagulation (2000/mo, 100,000-200,000 for permanent source)


    <hr>


    Rank Five: Skin: Resistance to damage of various kinds, including heat,cold and chemical.


    <hr>


    Rank Six: Bone:


    Rank Seven: Vascular System


    Rank 7.5: Heart


    Rank Eight: Muscle


    Rank Nine: Peripheral Nervous System


    Rank Ten: Organs other than Heart and Brain


    <hr>


    As the Tao System revealed more capacities not present in the traditional rank system, Lilijoy added new ranks.


    <hr>


    Rank Eleven: Brain II: Neural structures greatly enhanced or replaced. Faster, smarter, much better at anticipation, multiple consecutive thoughts (split narrative mind).


    <hr>


    Rank 12: Medical/Tissue:


    Med bugs are available to all in theory, and range widely in efficacy, capabilities and expense. (5,000 to 300,000 or more credits)  They can intervene in acute injuries and can also rejuvenate the body to some extent (scour arteries, eliminate pre-cancerous and senescent cells). Similar to Rank Four blood bugs, med bugs tend to have a short viability once they are released into the body.


    <hr>


    Rank 13: External


    Satellite systems designed to exist outside of the originating system''s host.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 5: Awareness

    The cargo craft emerged from the ice tunnel into a valley, its lights suddenly released from reflecting crystals into dark, open air. Lilijoy startled at the change and dropped out of her memories to take a quick look around. To her enhanced sight the surrounding terrain was rolling whiteness and the odd half buried structure. It was a startling contrast to the expanse of flat black she had spent the last hours re-experiencing.


    Still a few more hours to go. I wonder if Anda is already there?


    She had sent him a message as she left the monastery, but the ice tunnels were not a great place to receive communications. His reply came just as she finished the thought.


    <hr>


    Lilijoy ¨C Seems like I¡¯m fated to wait for your arrival these days. I¡¯m already at the entrance to the ice tunnels, and it seems I just missed you at Academy Town the other day. I met your Mr. Sennit. He seems like a good person, but I¡¯m a little worried he¡¯s getting in over his head, so I¡¯m going to stick around here and help the best I can when I¡¯m Inside. My Inside situation is¡­ interesting, I guess? I¡¯ll fill you in when I see you. - Anda


    <hr>


    She was very curious to know what had happened with Anda¡¯s character reboot. He had been out of touch for several days at the time, so she could only guess he had undergone another Trial of some kind. She hadn¡¯t been able to pry any details out of him, so she figured he wanted to tell her in person. That or he wasn¡¯t allowed to tell her for some reason.


    That seemed like a distinct possibility, given what she knew about the walls of secrecy around Purgatory. It didn¡¯t seem much of a stretch to assume that other aspects of the Inside were similarly protected by vows of silence or some such.


    The implications of such vows did bother her though. She knew that Guardian was capable of surveillance over anyone with a registered system. Anda had told her that ages ago, when they were first traveling. At the time, she had only thought in terms of messages and other communications being intercepted, imagining Guardian as a cosmic eavesdropper, but upon further reflection, she supposed that everything that passed through the senses could be picked up.


    I wonder if that includes internal senses?


    Lilijoy knew that the same pathways in the brain were used to process imagination and external sensory input. Seeing a red circle and thinking of one would fire many of the same parts of the visual cortex. If Guardian could control the senses, which it obviously could, she couldn''t think of a reason for it to be unable to read them. Every time she thought in words, the auditory cortex in her temporal lobe was in use, so it was very possible that Guardian had access to the internal thought process of virtually every human on the planet.


    It was a sobering thought.


    It was small consolation that her system didn¡¯t seem to play by the same rules as all the other systems she had run across. For one thing, she could repress the display of the Rules, which evidently no one else could. Also, she seemed to have much greater access to Outside data streams when she was inside. She couldn¡¯t tell whether her system was somehow circumventing Guardian or had some kind of special status that gave her more leeway. Either way, it seemed possible to her that she had greater privacy than most people.


    Yay me?


    The implications of Guardian¡¯s ubiquitous awareness reminded her of another issue that had bothered her for some time.


    Charm.


    It was all too easy to just take it in stride as another magical fact of the Inside, the ability to influence the thoughts and actions of others. Myths and legends from every culture had beings that could influence and beguile. Lilijoy imagined that for most people on the inside, it was an ability that hid within those cultural assumptions. She hoped she wasn¡¯t the only one who had noticed the obvious issue hiding in plain sight.


    How did Charm work on Outsiders?


    She could see how Outsiders with highly integrated systems capable of emotional regulation could be vulnerable to Charm, at least in theory, but what about Mr. Sennit? She was pretty sure his system was limited to sense replacement, and probably at a much lower level of detail than what she experienced. Was the Inside somehow manipulating his senses to create the desired effect? Or, and unfortunately she thought this more likely, were the systems provided by the clans capable of more than the users were aware? And if so, who was behind it, the clans or Guardian?


    Her money was on Guardian.


    She wondered what would happen if she used Two Minds One Self on an Outsider.


    It wasn¡¯t an experiment she was eager to run. Her experiences with Eskallia Treetouched and then Jessila had taught her that she should be very cautious. The interruption of her memory playback as the craft left the tunnel was well timed; she was in no hurry to experience the jumble of blurred nonsense her system had captured at the time she used her ability with Jessila.


    She remembered the initial contact, searching for the essence of her friend¡¯s purpose, her desire. Unlike the experience with the ocean soul, Jessila¡¯s consciousness was small, the loops of awareness fragile. The components of her being were in profound conflict, forces of serenity and peace warred with vitriol and vengeance, the two opposing sides forced together by a stubborn savoring of struggle.


    Lilijoy thought of her recent conversation with Marcus. She thought back to that memorable day by the pond when Rosemallow and Jessila fought.


    ¡°She¡¯s one of mine,¡± Rosemallow had said. ¡°This is within us,¡± she had added later.


    Not ¡®between us.¡¯


    The King of the Garden Elves cultivated peace. Eskallia¡¯s mind turned to growth. For Rosemallow, it was ¡®all about the struggle¡¯.


    All the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. The problem was, even as they fit nicely together, she couldn¡¯t recognize the picture they revealed. Her fragmented memories of the encounter with the ocean soul had taught her that the subsets were not simple things. Why should they be? They were coherent parts of something much greater, their selves defined by the same properties of narrative self-reference that led to human consciousness. Like a whirlpool spawning smaller vortexes, and then those spawning ones still smaller, the subsets existed as a hierarchy of self awareness, spinning at different scales.


    Somehow, the energy that fed the cycle of self-reference was emotional, meaningful.


    The Inside is like a nursery, or a hatchery for self awareness, and the food for consciousness is...what? Emotions? But what could they possibly get out of emotions, especially vicariously? I guess I don¡¯t have to understand it to acknowledge it.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She shelved the thought for later. Something like that was going on, and even if she had only scratched the surface, she felt like she had advanced her understanding.


    In her experience with Jessila, it had been tricky to find a common purpose to allow for the merging of their narratives. Lilijoy wanted them to run out of the worst of the danger, hopefully using Juggernaut, but the essence of Jessila¡¯s desire was immovable and obstinate. She wanted to fulfill the connection she had just made with the deep. For an instant, Lilijoy had been unable to perceive what could be so important about the deep, but as her contact with Jessila became more profound she had understood, had found the same drive within herself, and they had joined.


    The moments after joining were scattered images. She remembered being hit by a thrashing tail, but they would not be moved. She remembered a crushing weight of bodies rolling over them, but they held fast, ignoring the irrelevant damage reports flooding their unused vision. She remembered the sharp jaws clamping down on their body, but they were impregnable to pain.


    She remembered rising, the entire plain rising as far as their eyes could see, as the leviathan of the stony depths surfaced beneath them, its body covered by a dozen drooping lures the size of redwoods, and at the end of each a source of earth magic, a Source that rang the world like a bell. One, and only one, descended upon them, was bequeathed and received.


    Later, Skria had filled in some of the gaps. She had seen the plain of reflected stars distorted and writhing with countless fleeing beings. She lost sight of Lilijoy and Jessila in the scrum of giant wriggling bodies, had seen Magpie leaping from creature to creature in an impossible effort to get back to the others. She had seen Magpie fall beneath the bodies and disappear, in what turned out to be her first death.


    Then she had seen the leviathan rise, pushing the multitudes away, bearing Jessila and her passenger far above the surface.


    ¡°I tried to catch one of the other sources, at least I think that¡¯s what they were. They didn¡¯t really look like mine, but mine was an air source, so it didn¡¯t really look like much at all, but the giant fish thing just sort of moved them away. I don¡¯t know if it even saw me, ¡®cause it didn¡¯t have eyes. Anyway, then it lowered the source, which we know is a source ¡®cause Jess got it, and it just kind of sank down and left you both there, and I felt bad for Lilijoy.¡±


    Skria had been a little excited.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t feel too bad about not getting a source. Somehow, she had known all along that this was Jessila¡¯s opportunity.


    ¡°So what¡¯s it like Jess?¡± she asked. ¡°Did it come with any spells?¡±


    Jess shook her head. ¡°No. But it¡¯s a good source. I can tell.¡±


    Lilijoy glanced over at Skria. ¡°I thought all sources were the same once you got them.¡±


    ¡°Oh no. It just doesn¡¯t matter until much later, ¡®cause the main limit is our skill and Mana Well. I won¡¯t be able to make full use of my source for ages, and I bet it¡¯s the same for Jess.¡±


    Lilijoy remembered something else. ¡°Since we¡¯re talking about magic, is it normal to learn a class before you get a source or anything else?¡±


    Skria looked at her blankly, so Lilijoy tried again.


    ¡°I got the Fused class when I was trying to hear through the granite. I guess maybe it¡¯s how all those guys down there move around?¡±


    Skria¡¯s mouth moved a few times, but no sound came out.


    ¡°So¡­ not normal then?¡± Lilijoy concluded. ¡°Kind of useless though.¡±


    Skria¡¯s brain caught up to her mouth. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t have a source? I mean, as far as I understand, the source creates the whole framework. Different sources even seem to have preferences for what kind of clades and classes go together with them. It can make some easier to learn, or more difficult. For example, many air sources don¡¯t seem to like Charged very much. But if you don¡¯t have a source, I don¡¯t know how it¡¯s even possible for you to get a class.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s not that important. I¡¯ll get a source someday anyway.¡±


    After that, they continued their journey, sans Magpie. She would have respawned out of the conflict zone, and as it was her first death, she had probably respawned almost immediately. They had all discussed what to do if they got separated again, especially if it involved a respawn. Magpie was supposed to stay where she was, if she could, while Swoot flew a search pattern. With a little luck, she would respawn in the direction they were headed, which was typical in travel instances. If they didn¡¯t find each other, they would try to connect at a town just outside of Averdale Forest called Jallit¡¯s Grove.


    As it turned out, Magpie was waiting for them where the plain ended. She had even built a small fire, a risk which seemed entirely out of character for her, though it certainly made her easier to find.


    She seemed a bit abashed as she greeted them.


    ¡°Hey guys. I¡¯d ask what took you so long, but I can¡¯t exactly recommend my method of travel over yours.¡±


    ¡°So do you still have the Deathless title?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Yup. Guess it¡¯s just a Trial thing. You know, I actually feel relieved? I think it was messing with my head a little.¡±


    Lilijoy thought that might be something that passed for an apology in Magpie¡¯s mind. Still, she thought it best to talk over their combat strategy.


    ¡°Does that mean you might be a little more, you know¡­ aggressive in the future?¡±


    Magpie looked down and passed a hand over her tight braids. ¡°Look¡­ it¡¯s how I¡¯m trained, right? Don¡¯t fight the head-on battle, go dark, strike from the shadows, that kind of thing. It¡¯s just that we keep having these encounters that don¡¯t fit my style. By the time I¡¯m ready to strike, the shit¡¯s already gone down, or sideways.¡±


    Lilijoy remembered fighting the temptation to follow up on Magpie¡¯s training. That conversation would come soon enough. Instead she had offered a proposal.


    ¡°How about next time you show us what you can do? Now that you know that dying¡¯s not that big a deal...¡±


    ¡°Okay. Fine. Just for the record, dying totally sucks. It¡¯s terrifying. I¡¯m using my system for all it¡¯s worth right now just to keep it together.¡±


    ¡°I remember the first time I died,¡± added Skria. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know I¡¯d been tempered yet. I was just barely awake to myself and had no idea what was happening to me. I think it took me a week to stop trembling.¡±


    Note to self: Don¡¯t tell other people that dying¡¯s not a big deal, Lilijoy thought.


    After they were reunited, the cohort took a couple hours to rest. Jessila even went back to the edge of the plain and gathered some mandalas to her. Lilijoy smiled as she remembered looking out at the large girl sitting cross-legged on the mirrored surface, surrounded by the glow of a dozen lazy lights.


    The rest of the journey through the instanced travel had been closer to Lilijoy¡¯s original expectations back at the beginning of the journey.


    They fought off a band of wolfen, where Magpie did indeed show just how effective a combatant she could be. Even though they were slightly out-numbered and out-leveled, the combination of Magpie wielding her crazy chain and stick weapon and Lilijoy Qi blasting and breaking kneecaps proved too much for the wolf-headed men. Skria and Jessila hardly had to lift a finger.


    The final encounter of the instanced travel had been a trio of level twenty Ogres. Lilijoy enjoyed that encounter perhaps a little too much, as they reminded her, just a bit, of her trainer. Once again, she proved remarkably effective at landing criticals on her enemy¡¯s knees, in this case conveniently located just below her eye level. The fight was perfect for Skria¡¯s hallucinogenic gas, as she was able to keep it above the party¡¯s head, and after a while Lilijoy began to feel bad for the stupidly tough Ogres as they roared and flailed at imaginary opponents while their real enemy chipped their health away.


    Soon after that, the sun began to rise, and they found themselves on the outskirt of a towering forest that could only be Averdale. The long night was over.


    Watching a different sun rise, Lilijoy made a decision. She hopped out of the cargo vehicle and stretched, feeling the odd tightness of her augmented skin. The cold wind couldn¡¯t dampen her spirits as she walked, then ran to the waiting hovercraft.


    ¡°Open up Anda!¡± she yelled. ¡°A little cold air never hurt.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± he said as the segments of the circular opening spiraled out of sight.


    Soon they were headed north at a moderate pace.


    ¡°Well, we have a full charge and plenty of supplies,¡± said Anda. ¡°Now we just need a destination.¡±


    ¡°I hear the Amazon wastes are lovely this time of year,¡± Lilijoy said.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 6: Rare

    Interlude: Nykka


    ¡°I am very disappointed with your lack of progress,¡± said Doctor Quimea


    Nykka kept her eyes to the floor.


    ¡°It is beyond me how someone with your enhancements and training could fail to find a single ignorant boy. The implications are disturbing.¡±


    She repressed her adrenal response.


    ¡°It¡¯s obvious enough that he has been abducted by another faction...¡±


    She didn¡¯t sigh in relief.


    ¡°...which means that there has been a profound failure in my operational intelligence. I have been certain of my penetration into all the rival factions for decades. For someone to steal the asset from underneath my nose...¡± he tailed off.


    ¡°Perhaps it was an act of opportunity?¡± she suggested, careful to keep her head down. ¡°I was able to follow his trail to the rapids.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± He waved an impatient hand. ¡°I am well aware. However, there has been no subsequent activity. No chatter.¡± He clasped his hands and remained silent for a full minute.


    Nykka knew not to interrupt his thoughts. She had been caught up in the Doctor¡¯s wake for almost three years, his most faithful retainer and shadow. She still didn''t understand why he had taken her as his disciple. Until recently she hadn¡¯t thought to question his decision.


    Finally he spoke again. ¡°Nykka, you have many strengths, but anonymity is not one of them. I¡¯m afraid your failure is simply too obvious. You and I both understand that this is beyond your control, but I must maintain appearances. You are suspended from all Outside duties until further notice. Go Inside and report to Lieutenant Gon. I¡¯m sure she will find a suitably demeaning duty for you to perform for the time being.¡±


    She left in silence. The Doctor didn¡¯t care for extraneous communications.


    <hr>


    Chapter 6: Rare


    ¡°The good news,¡± Anda was saying, ¡°is that this craft can really move on the flats.¡±


    Lilijoy assumed he was saying this due to their slow progress through the bumpy terrain of the Andean foothills. Their journey would largely retrace the route they had taken on the way down from Manaus, though Anda had arranged a few stops for them to top up on hydrogen fuel along the way. According to him, the trip could take as little as three days, barring unforeseen circumstances.


    Like that will ever happen.


    Luckily for them, the majority of their journey would cross the interior of the continent, which was a no-man¡¯s-land because nobody wanted the great dead swamp. The eastern side of the continent had been savaged by war, first when Brazil collapsed as a sovereign state in the mid twenty-first, and then as the powers of the world at the time fought over it like dogs fighting over a chew toy. The territory of former Brazil was a valuable prize as equatorial real estate, initially due to more the stable clime, and then even more as the ice began to encroach and displace most of the established world powers from their own lands. The end result was many small coastal territories controlled by over a dozen different clans from all over the globe.


    Aside from Sinaloa, who controlled much of the west coast from Mexico to Ecuador, the most prominent were clans that originated in North America, though the Chinese and Europeans had a large presence too. The two big ones were Walden Clan, which controlled much of the Caribbean and the former state of Venezuela, and Lone Star Clan.


    Lone Star evolved from the short-lived Texas Army, an alliance of former U.S. military, mercenaries and militias. They held Suriname, Guyana and most of Northern Brazil. Walden and Lone Star had an uneasy alliance, in part due to their shared roots in the American south, though their internal cultures were quite different.


    Beneath them, both on the map and by numbers, were the Hongse, Tesla, Brasa, Sun and Union Clans, along with a host of others. Even though Lilijoy had studied the Renaissance tract Comments on the Clans quite thoroughly, she didn¡¯t think anyone, except maybe Guardian, could possibly track the ever-shifting landscape of alliances, mergers, breakaways and incorporations that made up the Corp of Clans.


    It didn¡¯t help that the clans were far more concerned with identity than territory, at least on the Outside. She thought it might be because the vast majority of them were from nations and parts of the globe that no longer existed, or at least were no longer habitable.


    There were exceptions, like the Brasa clan, whose stated, but not particularly acted upon, goal was to reclaim the territory of the former nation of Brazil, but most of the clans present in South America were more like Hongse, arguably the most powerful clan worldwide. Hongse had originally called themselves Xinhua, from their origins in the Chinese Communist Party, but for whatever reason they had shed that connection. They controlled huge swaths of the warmer territories to the south of their now uninhabitable homeland, such as the former nations of Thailand, Burma and Vietnam, and also held significant territories in Africa and South America.


    Lilijoy thought the whole situation was tragic and a little ridiculous; humanity had been revealed as the poo-flinging primates they really were. The clans made up about one percent of the total population worldwide, and they directly employed or controlled another ten to fifteen percent, who were known as the clan associates. Magpie called them assies.


    Everyone else, all sixty million or so, were little more than peasants, though the clans had a variety of denigrating names for the various types of uneducated and under-privileged peoples of the world. It was a society stripped of all the high-minded notions of equality and human dignity that had accrued over the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. All that mattered now was how strong you were and how strong your tribe was.


    ¡°Anda,¡± Lilijoy asked, ¡°Do you think Guardian wants the Outside to be miserable so that more people go Inside?¡±


    Anda raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s a heavy thought. Sounds like you¡¯ve been talking to Marcus.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes,¡± she replied. ¡°But he has some really good points. I¡¯m pretty sure that Guardian, or some part of it anyway, wants humans on the Inside, almost like we provide some kind of resource just by being there.¡±


    Another eyebrow joined the first. ¡°Are you saying that you think the entire Inside is a Dungeon?¡±


    The emphasis on the word ¡®dungeon¡¯ threw Lilijoy for a moment, until her internet memory came through for her.


    ¡°You know? I think that¡¯s almost exactly what I¡¯m saying. Like that whole genre from the twenty-first where intelligent dungeons attract adventurers so they can feed off their energy. Except I don¡¯t think it matters whether we die or not.¡± She wrinkled her nose before continuing. ¡°But look at all the parallels. It''s a place we can go, full of attractive resources and adventure, where we can improve ourselves and develop skills. I think that there¡¯s another side to the equation, some kind of symbiosis. Why else would Guardian bother?¡±


    Anda¡¯s eyebrows settled into a mildly skeptical furrow. ¡°You really do sound like Marcus. Except he¡¯d be trying to convince me that Guardian wants to use our Outside bodies as batteries or something.¡±


    She chuckled at the reference. ¡°I don¡¯t think Guardian would need our permission for that. Somehow, we need to be independent; free-willed or something.¡±


    ¡°Or, you know, Guardian just wants to keep us busy so we don¡¯t destroy the planet. Again.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. This all feels like a conspiracy theory to me, where the act of looking for evidence makes everything look like evidence. Don¡¯t we have enough on our plates without adding in problems that are way over our paygrade?¡±


    ¡°Speaking of our plates, how are you doing with the Tao System?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s amazing and infuriating. And frankly scary. My old system was like a machine. You told it what to do, you know, like running programs. Input and output. Enhance this, lower that. And Tao system can do all that too, but...¡± he tailed off.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°It¡¯s like there¡¯s no boundary between the program and the programmer,¡± she finished for him.


    ¡°Yes! I feel it changing my brain every time I use it. I can¡¯t get over how much faster I can think and react. My old system used several different techniques to increase my reaction time, but it didn¡¯t change the conductivity of my myelin pathways the way this system does. It¡¯s not even halfway done, and I can already feel the difference. The sensory integration is remarkable too. And the control is so fine grained ¨C I can feel it anticipating and modulating my reactions to pain and stress, without removing any clarity.¡±


    ¡°It sounds like you like it.¡±


    ¡°Oh gods yes. The scary part is thinking about what I will be able to do when Stage One is complete. It¡¯s changed everything about how I see myself and my future, and I can¡¯t quite wrap my head around that. I¡¯ve been thinking that I¡¯m just too old to change this much.¡±


    ¡°But Anda, you¡¯re not old!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m old enough to have become¡­ solid? I know who I am, or I thought I did. Now, who knows? I think that if I didn¡¯t have the system, I wouldn¡¯t be able to handle the changes the system is causing.¡±


    ¡°Paradox!¡± Lilijoy announced with glee.


    ¡°You know I love them. I¡¯m just not sure I was planning on being one.¡±


    ¡°It only gets weirder. Just wait until you really begin Stage Two.¡±


    She shuddered, a little unsure if she should warn Anda about the mind-rending soul blender. Would foreknowledge make it worse, or somehow interfere with its intended outcome?


    She decided to err on the side of caution. ¡°Anyway, you can definitely trust your guide, Deva. The only problem is that there¡¯s a ton of missing documentation and resources that we were supposed to have. I¡¯ve been filling in the gaps, so hopefully you won¡¯t have such a bumpy ride. There¡¯s even a different cultivation method waiting for you when you do reach Stage Two, that I got from the Head of the Academy.¡±


    Anda looked a little startled. ¡°That seems¡­ odd? Why would an Insider have a cultivation method that just so happens to fit the Tao System?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Okay. Back up for a second...¡± He tried to start speaking again several times, and then gave up. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing. How did it happen?¡±


    ¡°I merged with a tree, who was actually the Head, who turned out to be an ocean, who merged all the parts of my mind, but also gave me the cultivation method that let me save you.¡±


    Lilijoy enjoyed watching Anda¡¯s face as she went from absurdity to absurdity. She could have explained it more clearly, but it wouldn¡¯t have been nearly as much fun.


    Finally, she relented.  ¡°The Head is at least a Tier Five subset, I¡¯m pretty sure. Her mind, her intellect was so much greater than mine that she may have just designed it on the fly. I¡¯d hate to try and predict what someone like that could or couldn¡¯t do.¡± She couldn¡¯t resist throwing in one more thing. ¡°Plus, she¡¯s a tree, and the method¡¯s called Immortal Crystal Oak, so maybe she¡¯s just really great at tree stuff.¡±


    Anda was still shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you used the ability that got you the Reality Bender title when you, uh, merged?¡±


    ¡°Two Minds One Self. Yes. I¡¯ve been able to learn a lot with it. I just used it to join with my friend Jess, and I¡¯m almost positive that the subsets use our emotions somehow.¡± She held up one hand. ¡°I know that sounds even crazier than using us as batteries, but right now it¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡±


    Anda seemed to be having some kind of internal debate. Finally he said, ¡°You know, I just spent well over a week at a Renaissance outpost being grilled and put through stress tests to regain their confidence. Nothing too severe,¡± he hurried to say when he saw her concerned expression. ¡°It was bad enough just having my mental integrity under the microscope. If you hadn¡¯t given me the system when you did, I couldn¡¯t have passed their tests in a thousand years."


    He clasped his hands to her in thanks and continued. "They, or I guess I can say ¡®we¡¯ again now, have a far greater understanding of human cognition than past intelligence agencies and other covert groups. The basic concept of our beliefs is that the tragedies of human history stem from built-in cognitive errors in human thought. In order to form a more perfect union, as it were, it is those biases at the root of large-scale misbehavior that must be addressed.¡±


    This wasn¡¯t unfamiliar ground to Lilijoy. Between her system, Professor Anaskafius¡¯ lessons, and her internet memory she had an excellent grasp on the topic. ¡°Like confirmation bias and tribalism, or how the tragedy of the commons results from a blend of the fundamental attribution error and subject validation.¡±


    Anda sighed. ¡°A month ago you didn¡¯t use personal pronouns, and now...it¡¯s just amazing. Do you remember what it was like before you got the system?¡± After a moment he added, ¡°Whatever you do, don¡¯t read Flowers for Algernon.¡±


    She had, in fact, already made her way through the story. It was the flowers in the title that got her attention. She thought it was incredibly sad, though it really bothered her that Charlie Gordon didn¡¯t prepare better contingency plans when he was hyper-intelligent. It didn¡¯t seem worth the time to explain that to Anda though.


    ¡°I remember my pre-system time surprisingly well, though my thoughts were quite foggy. I think it¡¯s mostly that there wasn¡¯t much to remember. Anyway, you were telling me about Renaissance?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sorry to digress. I was trying to explain that Renaissance and I have regained our mutual trust, to an extent, so there are many things that I shouldn¡¯t tell you, in theory. Of course, I trust you with my life and then some, so I¡¯m not going to keep any secrets. I¡¯m just asking that you keep it between us.¡±


    ¡°Of course I will, Anda. There aren¡¯t many people I could tell anyway. Speaking of people I might tell things, I need your advice on someone who has fallen out of that category.¡±


    She had told Anda quite a bit about her Inside activities, so he already knew the basics of her group of friends and mentors.


    ¡°Who?¡±


    She ran through her thoughts about Magpie, and her plans to confront her at the last minute.


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you sent that enigmatic message asking when I told Renaissance about you. Had to eliminate me as a suspect eh?¡±


    ¡°More like confirm the chain of events. It still seems a bit surreal to me.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°To me as well. I can¡¯t fault your reasoning though. If the Corp had enough sway at the academy to pull something like assigning you a roommate, there are a thousand other things they would do instead. Even though I didn¡¯t go there, I know that the neutrality of the Academy is an absolute fact, at least for the time being.¡±


    ¡°I hope it stays that way! I suppose it could just be one Insider who was somehow threatened or corrupted by Outsiders, but the timing still doesn¡¯t work out.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± he replied. ¡°It almost certainly came from Inside. I don¡¯t suppose you got a chance to ask your trainer who she asked for help on your behalf?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see her before we left. I doubt I would have learned anything anyway. She¡¯s stubborn like that.¡±


    ¡°So I gather. So if I¡¯ve got this right, your theory is that there is an Insider pulling strings on the Outside and that he or she was able to bring Magpie in almost as soon as Rosemallow asked for help.¡±


    He tapped his cheek. ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but it seems like Magpie has only helped you, despite her dishonesty and obscure motivation. It strikes me as the kind of situation that arises with Renaissance at times. We often support like-minded individuals secretly, ideally without them ever realizing. I¡¯m reasonably certain that we¡¯re not behind this particular circumstance, but the parallels are striking.¡±


    ¡°So you think I should trust her?¡± She couldn¡¯t keep a note of incredulity from her voice.


    ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t say that. Just realize that she might not know much more than you do about why she is helping. The hallmark of such operations is compartmentalization. That said, you need to be extremely cautious going forward.¡±


    ¡°So do you think I should confront her?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. Her response will tell you a lot.¡± He looked at her with a serious expression. ¡°But you must be resolved to cancel the operation if you aren¡¯t convinced. Otherwise you will fall into your own sunk costs.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. I have plenty of tools to address the issue.¡±


    She figured she would tell Anda about her ability to split her mind when he had passed that threshold on his own. It was simple for her to have Jiannu monitor her for issues of cognitive bias and intervene when appropriate. That was her preferred method these days, as it allowed her to stay connected to normal human thought patterns without suffering any of the consequences.


    She remembered something she had been meaning to ask Anda for a while.


    ¡°Anda, can you suppress the Rules? Marcus nearly blew a gasket when he found out I could.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I would have never thought to try. Too bad there aren''t any posted in here, or I could let you know right now. I did notice that my connection to the Outside isn¡¯t restricted when I¡¯m Inside. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if we could message when we¡¯re there. That would be a great advantage.¡±


    Lilijoy could only agree.


    They spent the next several hours talking about all manner of things, catching up on matters large and small. As she had suspected, Anda was close-lipped on his Trial, other than to say his continued presence Inside relied on his discretion. They talked about Mr. Sennit and his situation, her coming operation in Averdale, and the journey ahead of them. At some point, the subject of rare earth elements arose.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you mentioned that,¡± Anda said. ¡°I¡¯m just about tapped out of the things. I assume it¡¯s a built in bottleneck to prevent runaway replication. The original users probably had a small source implanted in their bodies.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the main reason I want to go back home before we go to Sinaloa territory. The Piles are full of them, and exactly the ones we need as well.¡±


    She wanted to see what Anda would make of this information, so she didn¡¯t elaborate on her suspicions.


    ¡°Huh.¡± He scratched his jaw. ¡°That¡¯s just too much, right? There you are, as far from what passes for civilization these days as you can get, and a factory-mine just happens to drive by, seeding the area with all the resources your system needs to grow.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°No, it gets even more ridiculous! Your whole little tribe, or at least the weird ones, are probably running Tao system too. When do you think the factory mine actually passed by that place you lived?¡±


    ¡°We call it Night¡¯s Safety.¡± She ran a quick model, based from her memories. ¡°Must have been thirteen or fourteen years ago... Oh.¡±


    ¡°''Oh'' is right. I hate to say it, but I think everything that has happened to you, right from the first moments of your existence, is directly connected to that factory-mine, good old Crapper #7494.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 7: Amble

    The following days flowed easily as Lilijoy moved upstream through the river of her past. They traversed the gently waving grasses of the cultivated fields where Anda had first recovered from his injury, then proceeded to the endless stink of the dead Amazon swamp. They cultivated, conversed and shared increasingly outlandish theories about Guardian and the Inside.


    Anda¡¯s version of Rule Four was still pretty standard, so Lilijoy didn¡¯t say too much about that, since she didn¡¯t want to mess with his future comprehension. She wasn¡¯t sure that was really a thing, but she decided safe was better than sorry.


    It¡¯s no wonder all the old masters in stories are so enigmatic. They¡¯re probably terrified that anything they say is going to do more harm than good. First I can¡¯t talk about Stage Two, now it¡¯s Rule Four. The more I know, the less I can speak.


    At least Anda had no such inhibitions in advising her about the Rank Five skin bugs. She had run into several bottlenecks with her development in that area, mostly related to issues of flexibility. She also knew she could use them to manufacture a variety of substances, such as oils and adhesives, but hadn¡¯t figured out much about the process.


    ¡°The skin bugs that you got from me are my former clan¡¯s pride and joy.¡± Anda told her. ¡°Protecting ourselves from the hardened grasses of our native land was absolutely vital if we wanted to maintain our way of life. I¡¯m quite sure that the initial Rank One systems were only adopted because they provided the interface to implement the Rank Five bugs. Over the decades, Rank Five became our niche. Other clans make them too, but the Maasai skin bugs are coveted by all.¡±


    He helped her understand how to arrange the subdermal structures into overlapping units, from large bands for her ribs to tiny scales for the areas that need the greatest range of motion.


    ¡°If you strip off the top layers of skin, we actually look something like lizards, though the effect is very subtle. It¡¯s extremely effective protection, but keep in mind there are plenty of countermeasures out there. I¡¯m sure you remember my leg wound.¡±


    She was unlikely to ever forget that little episode.


    He continued, ¡°And of course, blunt force will ultimately win out. It¡¯s the trade-off for being able to move freely. That¡¯s why developing Rank Six will be our next priority. It¡¯s a pity I was exiled before I reached that stage.¡±


    ¡°Tougher bones would have helped, that¡¯s for sure,¡± she agreed. ¡°What about manufacturing secretions from the skin bugs? I know they have capabilities built in, but I haven¡¯t been able to find an interface.¡±


    Anda looked embarrassed. ¡°Yes¡­ I forgot about that. Mostly because it doesn¡¯t work, or at least my clan could never get it to work. I never had much aptitude for Alchemy skills, so I don¡¯t know any more than what I heard, which is that the capability is there, but there were problems interfacing with Rank One which resulted in inadvertent toxicity, and additional problems reliably transporting the substances through the natural skin layers. The whole problem got so complex that they gave up. I have no idea why they left it in.¡±


    That was a little disappointing. Although the Maasai didn¡¯t have Stage Two, or anything like the vines, which were specialized to transport substances.


    I can work with this.


    Still, the project wouldn¡¯t have that high a priority. She still needed to rework the distribution of her skin bugs and continue the work on her biggest priority, developing system satellite units that could survive and move outside of her body. Of course, for those to be effective she needed reliable inter-system communications that could work over distances greater than a foot, and to do that she needed to better understand how to create and manage entangled particles.


    Sigh. So much to do, so much to learn.


    Now they were headed to New Manaus. Originally, Lilijoy had wanted to skip the city altogether, as she saw no need to be so literal in the recapitulation of her travels. However, Anda had convinced her that it was the best place for a final refueling, and that travel by river-course would be far more efficient than attempting a straight line back to the Piles.


    She had to admit that her residual curiosity about the great glowing domes of the city on the lake made it easy to go along with the plan. She had been worried that it was dangerous for her to return to a place where she might be recognized, but Anda had talked her around.


    ¡°This might sound crazy,¡± he said. ¡°But stay with me. All you ever were was a rumor. Nobody has any concrete facts about you, or anything more than a vague description. Say someone like Jim Boggs hears that you have appeared in New Manaus. You¡¯re with me, so he¡¯s pretty sure you must be the same girl who may or may not have had a legacy system. Now you are walking around bold as brass. What¡¯s he going to do?¡±


    ¡°Probably try to grab me again.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if we were foolish enough to go into Old Manaus. He has a lot more power in the old city, mostly because Lone Star doesn¡¯t care much what happens there. He wouldn¡¯t dare cause a scene in New Manaus.¡±


    ¡°So he tells Lone Star about me.¡±


    ¡°First of all, I¡¯m pretty sure that ship already sailed. But let¡¯s say he reminds them, tells them you are sitting at a cafe right in the center of town. What do you think will happen?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll come and grab me?¡± It was such an indisputable fact of her existence, she could hardly imagine otherwise.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. What evidence does he have that could move them to act? He¡¯s a lowlife¡­ they aren¡¯t going to do anything based on his word alone.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to tell me that we could have just gone to New Manaus and avoided everything that happened in the last month? Seriously?¡±


    ¡°That was a completely different situation though. You were injured and weak, and frankly helpless, and Boggs was in hot pursuit. He got burned, and probably hurt his credibility with whatever clan contacts he has. He¡¯s an exceedingly pragmatic individual, there¡¯s almost no chance he will cause trouble for you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know Anda. What if Lone Star does try to take me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve read about them, right? What¡¯s at the core of Lone Star¡¯s identity?¡±


    ¡°They think they¡¯re the good guys. They like to ¡®kick ass and take names¡¯, but only if it¡¯s for what they see as a good cause. Of course, anything that serves their interest is a good cause by definition, so I don¡¯t see how that makes us any safer.¡± Another thought struck her. ¡°And what about their skirmish with Sinaloa? Surely they know that Sinaloa was trying to catch me.¡±


    ¡°I think you are greatly overestimating the collective intelligence of organizations. I can tell you that you aren¡¯t even a blip on their radar as far as Renaissance knows.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to run a dispassionate cost/benefit analysis of the situation. She was only in real danger if Lone Star came at her and Anda with overwhelming force. The benefits¡­


    I could stop feeling hunted. I could actually live in the world. Be something beyond a reaction.


    When she examined the totality without fear, the choice seemed clear. There were real dangers, but she had real power of her own now. Trump cards.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She thought of what she had done to Mo. It had been foolish, though perhaps the best word for it was immature. She was so caught up in the moment of triumph that she lost sight of the many possible consequences. Perhaps the biggest consequence was that he might be out there, might have told others what she could do. He even had proof, in a way. Systems didn¡¯t just vanish from someone¡¯s brain.


    If she was ever attacked by men wearing hazmat suits, she would know she brought it on herself, through a single moment of cruel mercy.


    Give me a few more weeks and it won¡¯t matter what they¡¯re wearing.


    She had already built a containment system for Tao System satellite units in her prosthetic arm, just under the palm. It wouldn¡¯t take more than a moment of contact to deliver enough of her system to shut down anyone who got too close. If she could get her flowers to float or fly, and most importantly communicate with them at a distance, then she should be unstoppable. Other than heavy ranged weapons, she would have nothing at all to fear.


    Rosemallow¡¯s words came to her. Strength attracts strength. The stronger you get, the more difficulty will come your way.


    She wondered what kind of difficulty she might attract once her plans were complete.


    ***


    Approaching New Manaus in daylight was depressing. Given the choice, Lilijoy would have retained the nighttime image of enchanted glowing bubbles rising out of light cast upon the still waters of the lake. The light of day removed the glow and revealed the blackened wound of burned and abandoned buildings surrounding the domes, casting them as pus-filled blisters on the blighted land.


    Lone Star clan could really stand to work on their landscaping.


    Manaus had been under the control of a secondary branch of Lone Star for over a century. As Lilijoy understood it, elements of the Texas Army had been part of the rush to grab territory in equatorial regions when the climate irrevocably shifted to rapid cooling. They initially invaded Guyana, and over the decades their area of control had drifted south to an informal boundary marked by the remains of the Amazon river. Perched at the edge of their territory, New Manaus was a trading center and projection of clan prestige to the many smaller territories below.


    The docks were the primary port of entry to the city. Lilijoy was reminded of the bustle of the market in Academy Town, with boats and hovercraft in innumerable sizes and configurations instead of people. They made their way through the vehicular tumult to an unoccupied space at a small vehicle holding and refueling center. Anda went off to make arrangements with the attendant, while Lilijoy stared in wonder at the people all around.


    The docks and ramps swarmed with men, women and children dressed in a multitude of incompatible styles. She saw a group of men who looked as if they had just teleported from the Inside, clad in metal and leather armor covered by green hooded cloaks. They wore swords at their sides or on their backs, though she noticed at least one of them had a rifle slung over his shoulder. One of the men held the hand of a small boy, who was dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans.


    Near them was a group of people with shaved heads and saffron colored robes carrying staffs and musical instruments, followed by a young couple in studded black leather and white baseball hats. They both had handguns holstered on their hips. There were dozens more, many in tunics or robes, nearly all carrying weapons, coming and going from their vehicles.


    ¡°Most of them are clan associates, those who are highly favored,¡± Anda said from behind her. ¡°They can afford weapons and nicer outfits. A lot of them choose to wear the same outfits they have Inside.¡±


    Soon they plunged into the crowd. Lilijoy actively adjusted her mental composure several times to accommodate the shock of being around so much activity after weeks at the monastery and over two days with no company other than Anda. Neither her time Inside, nor her internet memory had prepared her for the assault of noise, smells, and the sheer unfamiliarity of the environs.


    Perhaps Anda noticed, or assumed her first visit to a real city would be overwhelming, because he engaged her in conversation as soon as they left their craft secured at a refueling center.


    ¡°So, there¡¯s something I haven¡¯t mentioned yet about my new Inside situation,¡± he said as they made their way along the broad boardwalk leading to the official entrance to the domes.


    Lilijoy was engrossed by a large group of children, perhaps a few years younger than her, who were walking ahead of them, backs bowed under their heavy loads of sacks and boxes. It took her a moment to register that Anda had spoken.


    ¡°Do you think they get paid to do that?¡±


    ¡°Possibly. It depends on their contracts, or more likely their parents¡¯ contracts. Anyway, I just didn¡¯t want you to be too surprised when you see me.¡±


    Now he had her full attention.


    ¡°Why? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, you know I can¡¯t say much. But I had to earn my way back by taking on a quest of sorts. Anyway-¡±


    At this point a group of a dozen women wearing yellow jumpsuits pushed between them, talking loudly in what Lilijoy recognized as Thai. She had to fight her way back to Anda¡¯s side.


    ¡°Hmm, maybe it¡¯s a sign you should find out when you see me Inside,¡± he teased.


    Lilijoy took his hand and pulled him out of the way of an oncoming bicycle and to the edge of the boardwalk. They stopped and looked out over the burnt foundations of ancient homes. Hardened plants of various kinds had made tentative attempts at colonization, but Lilijoy imagined that the sight hadn¡¯t evolved much over the decades.


    ¡°Spit it out, Anda. Don¡¯t make me climb up there!¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m an orc.¡±


    Lilijoy narrowed her eyes. ¡°Ha ha. Now what really happened?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. Technically I¡¯m a half-orc, of the Urglah tribe.¡±


    A voice interrupted their conversation. ¡°Move along folks! Plenty of time to chat in the city.¡±


    A man wearing an orange duster and a wide-brimmed hat was gesturing with his rifle. Lilijoy saw the Lone Star symbol, two swords crossed over a star, on his armband and badge.


    ¡°Apologies, good sir,¡± said Anda. They turned and resumed the long walk to the city entrance.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me the whole clan dresses like cowboys,¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°Oh god no,¡± Anda replied. ¡°That¡¯s just the public enforcer¡¯s uniform. That reminds me, you should really try the local channel.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to change the subject? And what local channel?¡±


    ¡°A little, and it¡¯s a shared augsight overlay called Lone Star View, aptly enough. It¡¯s on the local network.¡±


    ¡°Lucky for you, I¡¯m very good at multitasking...¡± An understatement if there ever was one. ¡°...so you can tell me all about being an Urglah, if you weren¡¯t just clearing your throat when you made that sound.¡±


    She pulled up the local networks and found Lone Star View. Instantly, all the burned out foundations were replaced by an expanse of fluff-bearing plants.


    ¡°Is that¡­ cotton?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I think they have the West Texas theme running right now. Big sky country I think it was called.¡±


    ¡°You know, I was just thinking that the only way to improve a flat wasteland would be to make it even flatter.¡±


    Looking around, many of the people on the walkway with them were now wearing hats and boots. Lilijoy didn¡¯t know if that was their choice, or just something the overlay put on some percentage of the bodies moving around her. It was amusing to see one of the women in the yellow jumpsuits hurrying past with her spurs jangling.


    ¡°So the Urglah are the cat totem tribe. I don¡¯t look that different, other than the tusks, and the...¡± he sighed. ¡°¡­ ears.¡±


    Lilijoy laughed. ¡°So you¡¯re an Orc furry now!¡± She could almost imagine Anda pulling it off, with his innate dignity and regal bearing.


    Almost.


    They had just about reached the main entrance to the domes, which in her augsight was some kind of huge ranch field-gate with the star and crossed swords featured prominently. As they approached, a message asking the purpose of her visit appeared, as well as some reminders of the law of the land.


    <hr>


    Go ahead and bring your guns ¨C ours are bigger anyway.


    No fighting unless we say so.


    Disturb the peace if you like prison.


    Just keep your damn pants on.


    Enjoy your Stay!


    <hr>


    ¡°Huh.¡± She craned her head to look up at Anda. ¡°I wondered why you hauled that thing along.¡±


    Anda had a short barreled shotgun slung over his back, as well as several large knives placed around his person.


    ¡°It helps if you want to be taken seriously here. Actually¡­¡± he handed her a small sheathed blade. ¡°¡­ you should hold on to this.¡±


    I miss my inventory. I guess that¡¯s what clothes are good for.


    Clothing was not something Lilijoy thought about much. Back at the monastery, one of the exiles had whipped her up some pants and shirts that fit pretty well, and that was what she had been wearing ever since. It seemed like the synthetic cloth material only came in dark gray, so her wardrobe was¡­ uncomplicated. She found a conveniently placed loop on one hip and attached the sheath.


    ¡°It¡¯s still asking me the purpose of my visit. What should I say?¡± she asked


    ¡°I usually just say enlightenment. No one¡¯s ever hassled me about it.¡± Anda replied. ¡°This place has a live and let live attitude, right up to the point that your living causes problems for the clan. Just realize that Lone Star is pretty unique compared to the rest. You couldn¡¯t get within a mile of a Walden controlled area without registering, filling out a long list of questions, and waiting for hours or days to be vetted. Don¡¯t even get me started on leaving one of those places.¡±


    ¡°Strip searches?¡±


    ¡°Even worse. Satisfaction surveys.¡±


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re joking.¡±


    Anda winked.


    I¡¯m really glad I decided to come in to the city. What was I even afraid of?


    They stepped through the entrance and began to make their way down the street.


    A group of public enforcers surrounded them before they had gone twenty feet.


    ¡°Sir, Ma¡¯am. Please come with us.¡±


    Oh, right.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 8: Wind

    ¡°Imagine my surprise,¡± the girl was saying in a much stronger accent than Lilijoy remembered from their brief encounter Inside. ¡°When I just happened to notice one of my classmates from the Academy at the front gate of my city. And not just any classmate...¡± She flopped one hand. ¡°¡­ but the mystery girl who everyone¡¯s talking about. Well, I just had to invite you in.¡±


    Must avoid young masters, must avoid young masters.


    Lilijoy had dedicated an entire subdivision of her mind to running her new mantra. The public enforcers had been very polite as they escorted Lilijoy and Anda onto the opulent domed grounds of the Lone Star clan estate. Lilijoy had been too distracted running various scenarios in her mind to appreciate the lush foliage and elegant statuary of the gardens, or the serene and eclectic atmosphere of the main entry hall. They had been brought to a small receiving area through a side door, where they discovered why they had been pulled from the streets.


    ¡°That was truly kind of you, Miss Antimony,¡± Anda said


    Thank goodness for Anda. I hope he can talk us out of this.


    The situation felt perilous to Lilijoy, though she couldn¡¯t put her finger on why. Not only that, but the whole thing was just incredibly... awkward.


    I wonder if this is how Jess feels all the time? At least I can just fix it with my system.


    She did just that and felt much better about life, though the awkwardness of standing in front of a teenage girl, one who could make their lives miserable, as she lounged aggressively on a pink divan, didn¡¯t quite go away.


    I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a neurochemical for that. Might as well try to make the best of it.


    ¡°Such a beautiful home, Antimony, and so kind of you to invite us in. I have to admit, I feel pretty out of place. I¡¯m pretty sure someone like me doesn¡¯t really belong in such social circles,¡± she said.


    And ain¡¯t that the truth, she thought. I¡¯m pretty sure any halfway decent person doesn¡¯t.


    ¡°Well bless your heart, Emily,¡± Antimony gushed. ¡°Just because my Pawpaw runs this little city here doesn¡¯t mean we need to go about putting on airs. We like to visit with folks from all walks of life.¡±


    Okay, now she¡¯s just messing with me. Another thought occurred to her. Or is she actually trying to be nice, but the only way she knows how is from old stereotypes about southern hospitality?


    As far as Lilijoy could tell, Antimony wasn¡¯t lying per se. It was more like whatever truth there was to this girl¡¯s thinking was buried beneath a lifetime of seemings and semblance. She decided to try a different tack.


    ¡°So¡­ how are things for you at the Academy?¡±


    Antimony brightened. ¡°It¡¯s so kind of you to ask. In fact, that¡¯s what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, my cohort just has so many¡­ boys.¡± The last word carried the tone one might use to complain of household pests or foot fungus. ¡°I noticed you have a little girl-power thing going on with your cohort.¡±


    Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Tell me she¡¯s not going to¡­


    ¡°...and I saw that, and I just thought to myself, Antimony, that looks like fun. And then I noticed, why, they only have four, and it¡¯s certainly no proper cohort without at least five or six.¡±


    This can¡¯t be happening.


    Lilijoy tried to smile and nod, to avoid the expressions that would otherwise occur.


    ¡°So, I mentioned to my Pawpaw that I might want to leave my cohort and join yours!¡± She gave Lilijoy a brilliant smile.


    It¡¯s like Veruca Salt and Scarlet O¡¯hara had a horrible mutant child.


    She began to seriously contemplate using her system to try and control Antimony somehow.


    Oh my god, she¡¯s still talking.


    ¡°Now as you might expect, Pawpaw wasn¡¯t too keen on the idea.¡±


    Oh thank¡­


    ¡°But I talked him around.¡±


    Never mind.


    ¡°But then it was such a stroke of luck that you showed up right on my doorstep.¡±


    Anda, I¡¯m going to kill you.


    She messaged him to that effect, adding, Get me out of this!


    He cast a gentle smile in her direction.


    You have something she wants, he replied. Does she have anything you want?


    All I want is for her to leave me alone! she sent back.


    Welcome to dealing with the clans. It¡¯s not all vampires and shooting, he sent.


    Lilijoy took several long moments to think it through. Integrating a spoiled clan scion into her group was beyond impossible, though she would pay good money to see Magpie¡¯s reaction. Not that Magpie was likely to be part of things going forward. The solution wasn¡¯t quite as simple as denying Antimony¡¯s request. For one, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure that it was a request. It seemed like Antimony assumed it was already happening.


    She¡¯s probably already designed the uniforms.


    She had the strong feeling that ¡®No¡¯ was not a word the girl was used to hearing. She and Anda were stuck in her web at the moment, and there were more than a few ways this situation could go horribly wrong.


    I miss Starcoil. Actual spiders are much easier to handle than the human variety.


    Antimony was looking at her expectantly. Lilijoy watched as her eyes blinked in slow motion, long curled lashes closing like a trap, and felt the time had come to say something.


    ¡°Um, wow!¡±


    Well said, Lilijoy, she thought to herself. I just need a few more brilliant moments like that and I¡¯ll end up as her maid.


    She forced herself to continue. ¡°What I mean to say is, wow, it¡¯s such a shame that...¡± here she paused for second trying to think of any way out of the trap she was about to step into. ¡°...my cohort is disbanding after this term. At least it probably is.¡±


    Antimony only allowed herself a brief flash of disappointment. ¡°Well honey, that could work out just fine. Even better, now that I think of it. We¡¯ll just bring you on board the Lone Star train.¡±


    Oh god, I am going to end up her maid. At least until I work out how to take over her clan from the inside...oh.


    She had been having a lot of ¡®oh¡¯ moments of late. This felt like a big one. She had been so immersed in developing her system and its abilities, she hadn¡¯t really spent much time thinking about exactly what she was going to do once she had achieved her goals. Goals that she now realized weren¡¯t real goals at all, but simple steps on a longer path.


    What was the purpose of gathering her strength, entering cities, of joining the Outside world? If she was going to be something beyond a reaction, then what action would she become?


    Antimony does have something that I want. Access. Power. Connections.


    She wasn¡¯t in any hurry to take those things. It might make sense to use Antimony at some point, or it might be some other clan scion she could manipulate to her cause. One way or another, if she wanted to grow her forest, if she wanted to help the Mr. Sennits of the world, she was going to need to deal with the clans. For just a moment she allowed herself to imagine the sweeping change she could bring when she came into her full power.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I¡¯m not the cattail fluff anymore, she realized. I¡¯m the wind.


    ***


    Leaving the domes of the Lone Star estate, Lilijoy kept wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. Antimony had babbled on about cohort-related trivia for a while. Evidently, Quatorze, whose real name was Billy, had been ¡®madder than a wet hen¡¯ when Lilijoy had beaten him in stealth contest. Edison was irritating, but it was Belsaurus and Teerex who were the real thorns in her side.


    ¡°I swear, those two couldn¡¯t hit the floor if they fell out of bed. I¡¯ve got to go back in there in just a bit and remind them which end of the sword to hold.¡±


    Reading between the lines, it seemed that the real problem with Antimony¡¯s cohort was their stubborn refusal to do everything according to the will of Antimony. Lilijoy kept that insight to herself though. She had smiled and nodded and promised Antimony she ¡®wouldn¡¯t be a stranger no more¡¯ when the time came for the blond girl to go back Inside to meet with her current cohort and their impromptu visit came to an end.


    ¡°Well, that was something,¡± said Anda. He had quietly observed the encounter, after the initial introductions. It seemed that Antimony had assumed he was a bodyguard or servant of some kind, which was ironic, given the fact that he was the one with a clan background.


    Their escort of public enforcers had accompanied them onto the clan estate and escorted them off of it. That was it. There was no grabbing or threatening or coveting of systems. Just the whim of a teenage girl. Lilijoy suspected that Antimony was bored, and maybe even a little lonely when she was Outside. She imagined the girl watched the people come through the gate on her internal awareness to pass the time. She didn¡¯t strike Lilijoy as the type to curl up with a good book.


    ¡°Anda, why are there so few clan kids?¡±


    It was one of those little observations that had bothered her for some time. Marcus had told her that virtually every clan kid, with the exception of a few holdouts such as the Maasai, attended the Academy. That meant that the entire population of the clans produced under two thousand children every year. It seemed like a small number, even considering the population caps imposed by Rule 1c.


    Anda scratched his chin while he walked. ¡°Now there¡¯s a can of worms. Short answer is, fewer kids means fewer heirs stacking up and causing trouble. However many kids they are having, it¡¯s probably just enough to match their mortality rate. Of course, the clans would say that they¡¯re sacrificing for the good of humanity. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Just trying to figure Antimony out. I thought she might be lonely.¡±


    He gave her a skeptical look. ¡°You¡¯re not feeling sorry for the poor little rich girl now, are you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe a little? But I¡¯m mostly realizing that I need to understand the clans better if I¡¯m going to take over the world.¡± She wasn¡¯t sure if she was kidding.


    He laughed. ¡°Narf?¡± Then his face became serious. ¡°Lilijoy, give yourself a few years to live and explore the world. Worlds. I saw the expression on your face when you were watching those child porters, and I agree with you. It¡¯s why I¡¯m in Renaissance.¡±


    She shrugged and turned to watch a pair of street musicians playing violin and bandoneon. The music was distant and plaintive, as her system was set to reduce the volume of the sounds all around them. More and more people were out and about on the streets as they moved away from the domes of the clan estate. Most of them seemed happy, or at least not unhappy, as they went about their lives.


    She gestured to their surroundings. ¡°Anda, have I got it all wrong? Maybe this is the best we can do.¡±


    ¡°I hope not! We could have a true post-scarcity society instead of this clan-based neo-feudalist crap. But changing it isn¡¯t going to be easy. The Corp figured out that if you make sure no one starves and you keep the masses in debt and ignorant, you remove most of the pressures that might threaten their way of life. That¡¯s why Renaissance is focused on teaching people to use their own systems to become better humans.¡±


    Or we could give them better systems with all of that built in from the start.


    She kept her thoughts to herself. She knew it was too soon to think about giving out the Tao system right and left. There were far too many unknowns, both with the system and with how likely it was to be abused.


    She spent the rest of the day with Anda in New Manaus, watching people and browsing shops. It was striking how much the city resembled the Inside. Some of the areas underneath the soaring domes contained buildings and streets that wouldn¡¯t have been out of place in a medieval town.


    ¡°Reminds them of home,¡± Anda said when she asked him about it.


    She thought about that for a long time.


    Toward the end of the day, they reclaimed the refueled hovercar and left New Manaus behind.


    ¡°Look Anda, the crane!¡±


    They were passing the enigmatic, half-sunken construction equipment when the message from Magpie arrived.


    <hr>


    Go time! Window of opportunity starts in about two hours.


    Sorry for the short notice.


    Things came through quicker than expected.


    <hr>


    A few words with Anda, and then she was Inside. She couldn¡¯t help but feel like the rushed timing was purposeful.


    Probably just projecting.


    ***


    The sun was high in the morning sky. Birds were singing in the little stand of young trees at the edge of the forest. She took a moment to enjoy fresh air and real sunlight.


    ¡°There you are!¡± Magpie sounded relieved and a little stressed. ¡°It¡¯s been crazy here. Major stuff going on. For whatever reason, the Wraiths and A.L.F. haven¡¯t been coordinating for decades, or so I gather. I guess Sinaloa infiltrated A.L.F. some time ago, and the Wraiths haven¡¯t trusted them since.¡±


    The Wraiths of Averdale were the Insiders making life difficult for Sinaloa in Averdale forest, while the Averdale Liberation Front were Outsiders doing likewise. Both group¡¯s activities had ebbed and flowed over the years, ranging from prolonged sieges to a token presence.


    Magpie continued. ¡°I guess the timing was good for them to start talking again. My contacts in A.L.F. swear up and down that they rooted out any Sinaloa presence, so let¡¯s hope they¡¯re right. Anyway, both groups are launching diversionary assaults any minute now. The Wraiths haven¡¯t let anyone in on the specifics, but they have agreed to escort us through one of the tunnel systems they¡¯ve built over the years. It should bring us to Sinaloa¡¯s doorstep. But we need to go now, like five minutes ago now, if we want the timing to work out.¡±


    Lilijoy analyzed Magpie as she spoke. Her mind was currently softly subdivided; one part scrutinized all the details of Magpie¡¯s delivery to capture nuances of expression and inflection, and another part used that data to cross-reference previous conversations and strategize. Those portions of her were operating as fast as her system would allow. A third part was monitoring her own emotions and watching for bias and assumptions, while her final subdivision was in charge of responding in real time.


    It was a complicated mental arrangement, but one she had practiced several times in conversations with Anda. He had tried to deceive her in various ways and she had about an eighty percent success rate detecting his prevarications and exaggerations. She found that very encouraging, considering he had his own Stage One Tao system, and foreknowledge of what she was doing.


    ¡°It¡¯s not happening.¡± She folded her arms and stared at Magpie.


    Magpie blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You heard me. I¡¯m calling it off.¡±


    ***


    What the hell is going on? Magpie thought.


    She looked down at Lilijoy, who stared back at her with a stubborn, almost hostile expression.


    She had been getting weird vibes from Lilijoy for past few days. She had chalked it up to the stress of the travel instance. Actually, she had thought it was because of her own less than stellar moments during the instance.


    I thought I redeemed myself by the end.


    But maybe it wasn¡¯t about that.


    She knows something, or she thinks she does. I need to figure out what it is.


    ¡°Can you tell me why?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You know why.¡± Lilijoy responded.


    Magpie suppressed a spike of anxiety, and a realization dawned on her.


    She¡¯s reading me. Handling me.


    She had a solution for moments like these, though she had never imagined she would need to use it with Lilijoy.


    Stupid emotional attachments begone.


    She went cold. Clarity washed over her as she turned off all her emotions but those connecting her to the mission. Strategies for manipulating the situation to her advantage filled her thoughts and her mission parameters grew in importance: Obtain the Outside location of the subject¡¯s brother, maintain deniability to any Flock involvement, retain good will of the subject.


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair. I know it can¡¯t be cold feet, so I¡¯m guessing someone is messing with us.¡± She sat down on the forest floor and sighed.


    Add one appeal to justice, one subtle compliment and raise doubts, while lowering temperature of confrontation. Stir and observe.


    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s not your fault. You¡¯re just a minion,¡± Lilijoy said.


    Huh. That might have stung before I went cold. Definitely would have elicited a subtle reaction. Better give her something.


    ¡°Look.¡± She allowed her voice to rise while she simulated the correct vital signs. ¡°I think you have the wrong idea. You know how Subtle Arts works. Be the shadow, be the edge that surrounds the light blah, blah blah. I¡¯m one hundred percent on board with our mission today. Yes, it was an assignment from my trainer, but that doesn¡¯t mean I haven¡¯t put my heart into it and worked my ass off. You may have started off as something like a client, but I¡¯ve come to see you as a friend.¡±


    She was startled to realize that she would have said the same even if she wasn¡¯t cold.


    I guess the truth makes the best lie.


    Lilijoy looked at her skeptically. ¡°You really don¡¯t know, do you?¡±


    Oh, she¡¯s good. Luckily there¡¯s only one response.


    ¡°Know what?¡±


    ¡°If the organization you work for hasn¡¯t bothered to tell you, I don¡¯t see why I should.¡±


    Wow. Fish much? Actually¡­


    ¡°Wow. Fish much?¡±


    Lilijoy shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not fishing. I¡¯m just realizing that I¡¯m not the only one manipulated by mysterious forces. I think you are worse off than I am. You may never get to be your own person, because by the time you see what¡¯s going on you won¡¯t trust your own eyes.¡±


    Magpie¡¯s cold brain parsed what Lilijoy was saying. It paralleled her own fears exactly. That didn¡¯t impact her on an emotional level, but its truth was undeniable. She strengthened her connection to the mission parameters reflexively, only to realize that this conversation had made them mutually incompatible. She couldn¡¯t maintain Lilijoy¡¯s good will and maintain flock deniability. Without Lilijoy, her odds of obtaining Attaboy¡¯s location were reduced.


    She opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn¡¯t come. She locked eyes with Lilijoy and forced the air through her vocal cords.


    ¡°I want to-¡±


    ¡°Let me step in here...¡± came a new voice. A familiar voice.


    Raven.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 9: Wards

    Lilijoy rocked back in surprise. The attention she devoted to Magpie shifted to the new presence, this man who had stepped out of thin air as if emerging from behind a tree. She felt a wave of confusion pass over her as she attempted to discern his features. He was¡­ dark skinned? No. A redhead with¡­ a dark goatee and¡­ a broad face with a scar that¡­ didn¡¯t exist. The heat map of the blood flow under his skin fluctuated at odds with what her normal vision was telling her, but it was just as inconstant.


    He smiled, or at least she thought he did, though with his constantly shifting features she wasn¡¯t sure what to believe. But his voice sounded like he was smiling.


    ¡°Very nice to meet you, Emily. Allow me to apologize on Magpie¡¯s behalf. She really is just a minion, you know. My name is Jack.¡±


    Is this what a high level Deception skill looks like? Or is it Disguise?


    Either way, it was uncomfortable to look at. She forced herself to meet his changing eyes as she replied, using every ounce of her ability to analyze this new situation. She kept Magpie in her sight line by expanding her focal visual field to include all the light entering her eye.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Jack. Are you her superior?¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°In many ways. I wanted to clear up this unfortunate misunderstanding.¡±


    Magpie didn¡¯t react to the slight, but that wasn¡¯t surprising. Lilijoy had seen the moment that the girl dampened her emotions and substituted artificial physical responses. The delayed responses of her heartbeat and capillary dilations were a dead giveaway.


    Instant psychopathy. Very convenient. I wonder how she decides to come out of it?


    It was a shame that this Jack person had intervened though. She had thought that Magpie was about to tell her something that might be true, or at least a new lie. The old ones were getting tiresome, though she did enjoy the ¡®my trainer made me do it¡¯ spin.


    ¡°How do you propose to do that?¡± she asked with genuine curiosity.


    ¡°It¡¯s simple, really.¡± He spread his hands. ¡°Your trainer, the esteemed Rosemallow, approached my superiors some time ago. We owed her a favor and Magpie had just finished her Trial, so it seemed like it would be a nice chance for her to get some experience. Strings were pulled, situations were manipulated, plans were laid. It¡¯s what we do. But it was all for a good cause. Magpie¡¯s been working for you the whole time.¡±


    ¡°I suppose the next thing you would point out is that if your organization intended me harm, it would be simplicity itself to have captured me any of the times I went to town.¡±


    He laughed and turned to Magpie. ¡°There, you see? Real thinking isn¡¯t that hard.¡± He turned back to Lilijoy. ¡°Now, for all of her faults, Magpie has worked very hard on this operation. I can¡¯t say I like your odds, but I have a little incentive for you to at least try.¡± She thought he might have winked. ¡°This whole ordeal is serving as something of a final exam for Magpie, and I would hate to need to engineer another situation as challenging as this one. Finish this up, give it your best shot, and if things don¡¯t work out we¡¯ll make it right for you. Win-win.¡±


    Crap. There¡¯s no way on earth I can trust this guy; he¡¯s the very definition of shifty. Except absolutely everything he said was entirely plausible. Yet another situation where thinking fast doesn¡¯t help. Worst outcome has always been capture, but we all have redundant respawn techniques. Even if he¡¯s lying about helping after, I¡¯m no worse off than I was. Still doesn¡¯t feel right.


    Her intuition was unhappy, probably because Jack¡¯s appearance itself seemed unwarranted. What could Magpie have told her that she didn¡¯t know already? Why step in at all?


    I need advice.


    She slipped into her fastest subjective time and wrote a message to Anda, explaining the situation. Then she addressed Jack.


    ¡°I need some kind of assurance that you can help me.¡±


    He made a show of tapping his ever-shifting cheek with an index finger.


    ¡°Hmm. A little taste of what we can do? Let¡¯s see¡­ okay, I¡¯ve got just the thing. It¡¯s not confirmed, but there might be a lead to your friend¡¯s current location.¡±


    ¡°Is he okay? Can you tell me anything about his health?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can. Theoretically.¡±


    Magpie broke in. ¡°Jesus dude, just tell her if her friend¡¯s alive!¡± She looked at Lilijoy. ¡°This guy¡¯s a huge ass. I¡¯m sorry I got you mixed up with all this.¡±


    Lilijoy was relieved to see that Magpie¡¯s emotions were back, but she kept her gaze pinned on Jack.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    He held his hands up. ¡°Okay, okay! Last I heard, he¡¯s alive. That¡¯s all I know about that.¡±


    ¡°There, you see?¡± said Magpie. ¡°Not being an asshole isn¡¯t that hard. Now the two of you can continue your little chat, but I¡¯m going to go down some long, crappy mud-hole, sneak into a place full of horrible people, and die.¡±


    She got off the ground, brushed some leaves from her butt and stalked away.


    Lilijoy and Jack, otherwise known as Raven, continued to stare at each other. Or at least that¡¯s what she thought he was doing. After long seconds he spoke.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    It had been sixty-seven seconds since she messaged Anda. He was keeping an eye on her Outside self and was ready in case she needed advice, so she figured it was taking him that long to read and compose a reply.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come with us now?¡± she asked.


    He sighed and turned to see where Magpie was. When he turned back he was a round-faced Asian man in his twenties with chubby cheeks and a sparse mustache.


    ¡°Sorry for all the op-sec. That was as much for Magpie¡¯s benefit as anything. The short answer is that I will be coming with you, but only as an observer. You won¡¯t see me.¡± His face turned earnest. ¡°I stepped in so that Magpie wouldn¡¯t compromise herself and fail her mission. We didn¡¯t understand your abilities when we assigned her, so it really became inevitable that you would catch on. It¡¯s not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but I thought I could take a shot at repairing the situation.¡±


    ¡°So you understand my abilities now?¡±


    He barked a short laugh. ¡°Ha! More like shifted things from the unknown to the possible. Anyway, I¡¯m just trying to give her a shot at success, and I guess you too, as a side benefit. Honestly, I just want to be done as her handler- it¡¯s really thrown off some other projects I have.¡±


    Anda¡¯s message arrived just as he finished.


    <hr>


    Reminds me of our discussion about going into the city. It doesn¡¯t really matter if you trust any of these people. What matters is whether you have confidence in your own strength. Well, that and your respawn methods. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to get stuck in that annoying situation. Anyway, don¡¯t overthink it. The stakes aren¡¯t life and death.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    <hr>


    It was nice to have his perspective. It came to her that she was feeding off his experience, in a way.


    Imagine if I had thousands or even millions of perspectives to combine with all the knowledge I already possess. Is that what Guardian is doing?


    She knew it wasn¡¯t quite right, but she felt like the thought had something to it; a nugget of truth. She resolved to contemplate the issue sometime when a mysterious operative from an unknown organization wasn¡¯t waiting for her to decide whether she should risk her¡­ what was it she was risking again?


    I guess I really have been overthinking this. Maybe that¡¯s the biggest danger of having the Tao System, that my brain is now capable of deity-level analysis paralysis.


    She gave Jack a thumbs up, and ran after Magpie.


    ***


    The tunnel wasn¡¯t as bad as she had feared. It probably helped that she liked being underground, and had no issues with claustrophobia. Others in her cohort weren''t thrilled, especially Skria, who didn¡¯t have room to ride on Jessila¡¯s shoulders, nor room to fly. It seemed that taking long hikes in dark, constrictive passageways wasn¡¯t really her thing.


    Jess was as happy as Lilijoy had ever seen her, even when she had to squeeze her body around intruding roots and rock formations. Lilijoy would have loved to ask her about her source and life in general, but they were operating under strictly silent conditions. Still, she was sure that she heard the large girl humming under her breath once or twice.


    Magpie was all business. She followed their Badger-kin guide with precise, fluid movements, never once looking back at the rest of the group. Lilijoy could only wonder what was going through her head.


    It was over an hour before they came to a series of wooden supports where the tunnel reached its end. They had been briefed on what was about to happen, so no one was surprised when their guide turned and left without so much as good luck. The Wraiths had built their tunnel network over many decades, and they were very serious about keeping as much of it secret as possible. It was only a thirty seconds before they heard the section of tunnel they had just passed through collapse.


    No turning back now, thought Lilijoy. Hope this next part works or this will be a really short mission.


    Jess pulled a support beam out and quickly stepped back. The ceiling here was a bit higher than it had been, about ten feet, so she was able to avoid the falling rocks and dirt that revealed a small patch of afternoon sky. Lilijoy had asked about the timing of the assault before they started the arduous tunnel-portion of the endeavor, as it seemed odd to begin operations under the midday sun. Magpie wasn¡¯t talking, but Skria assured her it made perfect sense. She and Jessila had spent their time learning about the area from a few of the Wraiths they had met.


    ¡°They called in a big aerial campaign, all the tempered fliers from miles around. Most of them do best in daylight. Plus, just about all the Sinaloa Outsiders on the other side have some kind of low-light vision, or goggles that seem to do the same thing for them. The Wraiths learned years ago that night attacks don¡¯t really help at all.¡± Skria had said.


    Once they had clambered out of the loose earth of the collapsed tunnel, the warmth of the sun was welcome on Lilijoy¡¯s face, even if its revealing light wasn¡¯t ideal for their purposes. They were at the edge of a clearing, just under outstretched branches of towering trees. If she faced into the forest, the nearest trunk that Lilijoy could see was at least thirty feet in diameter, and similar giants thrust from the earth every hundred feet or so.


    Even though she knew better, her expectations of the interior of Averdale forest had been influenced by the pictures of the giant redwood forests in her internet memory. What she was seeing was something entirely different, bigger and darker. These trees were towering giants over two hundred meters tall, twice the size of the largest redwoods, and their branches spread and reached out from their trunks, often meeting and twining with that of their neighbor. The result was a dense canopy that started a hundred feet or more from the dark forest floor, with huge open spaces between the mighty trunks where no plants could grow.


    Even so, the largest of these trees wouldn¡¯t have come to the knees of the Greatwood she had seen in her mystic library visions.


    Behind her was the Cut, a shattered moonscape of destruction where Sinaloa had cleared the woods all around the outermost perimeter of their territory. It reminded Lilijoy of home.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Magpie said in a low voice. ¡°No magic of any kind for this next part. All items in inventory.¡±


    Jessila sighed and removed her hood and cloak. Lilijoy noticed that her braids were no longer in the tightly woven configuration provided by Mr. Sennit. She looked down at Nandi¡¯s boon on her right palm.


    Here¡¯s hoping it doesn¡¯t count as a magic item. Can¡¯t exactly chop off my hand and put it in my inventory.


    A host of irrelevant possible experiments flickered through her mind. Would the boon stay if she cut off her hand? If it did, what would happen when she grew a new hand? In her many attempts to get some kind of response from the stubbornly inert crystal she had sent all different kinds of mana to it, tried to pull ambient mana through it, and even tried to use Two Minds One Self on it, but cutting off her hand would be a new one.


    Suitably stripped of anything that might trigger the coming set of wards, the cohort set forth under the trees.


    ***


    According to Magpie, the magic detecting ward was followed by the first of several level detecting wards. This far out from the Sinaloa base the wards were set to detect high-level beings who would pose serious danger, where an early warning of their arrival would be crucial to orienting the defensive arrays. Defensive magics included such things as shields against magical and physical attack, but their mana cost grew prohibitive as the protected area expanded. As far as Lilijoy understood, it was related to the area of the shield, up until that area enclosed more than forty percent of a space, at which point it would switch over to being contingent on the volume.


    Needless to say, those magical crafters who specialized in building and arranging the networks of items that composed a defensive array tried to avoid making shields that passed the volume threshold. Instead, they built responsive arrays that moved shields into place in response to specific threats. Lilijoy figured this was a purely arbitrary balancing mechanism to ensure that defensive positions always had weak spots.


    Privately she called it the exhaust port mechanism, and she was thankful for its existence, since otherwise their little band would simply come up against a solid shield they had no hope of passing through.


    They passed through the night-dark forest, twixt ever larger boles as they approached their end. Now and then they heard the sounds of distant explosions, signs that their allies of convenience were doing their part. Here and there Lilijoy saw rings of glowing fungi and other faintly luminescent growths embellishing the mighty trunks, perhaps some of the valuable alchemical ingredients that prompted Sinaloa¡¯s conquest of the area.


    ¡°This used to be one of the most dangerous areas of the Garden,¡± Skria whispered from her perch on Jessila¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Now the great slime molds and the dangling creepers are almost gone.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if she should be sad about this or not.


    ¡°It still is,¡± hissed Magpie. ¡°Only now the slimy creeps are on patrol, so keep it down! In fact, we should stealth it from here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll head up then,¡± said Skria. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t use any spells.¡± She leapt to the nearest tree and scurried up towards the canopy.


    They were still being careful with active magic use. There was no real way for them to tell what wards were in effect, but the word was that the outer ward screened for all magic items and spell use, but inner wards didn¡¯t, due to the need for patrols. Lilijoy wondered why Sinaloa bothered anymore with the outer wards, since it seemed they were easy enough to circumvent. In general it seemed to her like the whole ward system would be a nightmare to administer, especially over such a large area.


    Lilijoy and Magpie moved forward in stealth, hoping Jessila¡¯s cloak would keep her hidden should they cross paths with a patrol. The forest floor was not simple to navigate, with broad surface roots taller than Lilijoy running every which way. There were very few fallen leaves and twigs though, so even Jess was able to move somewhat quietly, other than the occasional stumble.


    After a few more minutes, Lilijoy was startled by a message on her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    Entering Territory held by Sinaloa Clan


    Continuing past this point without permission


    is considered a mutual Declaration of War


    and will remove your immunity to damage from


    Sinaloa Clan affiliated forces.


    <hr>


    So that¡¯s how that works, she thought. I guess this is where the real fun begins.


    The sounds of combat filtered through the trees more regularly now that they were in the core territory. At times, Lilijoy could feel vibrations through her feet with her Earthen Sense, though the ability didn¡¯t work very well now that she was on such a mixture of soil and roots. Back on the mirrored plane, she had wondered how a tier-one ability could possibly be so powerful, but it turned out that the setting had helped. Unlike the unbroken and uniformly dense material of the stone sea, the ground beneath her now was more plant than earth. It was like the difference between the clear air of an elevated lookout and a dust storm.


    Even so, she caught just a hint of a vibration before she heard Magpie cry out.


    ¡°Crap! Ambush!¡±


    She dove and rolled along the root in front of her and felt the passage of something fast and sharp just inches from her head. Her attacker¡¯s stealth was broken, revealing a figure in a dark gray outfit of leather and cloth wearing a grin beneath outsized round goggles and a hood.


    ¡°And I thought noob patrol would be a waste of time,¡± he said. ¡°Thanks for making my day.¡±

 Book 2.5: Chapter 10: Mortality

    By the time the goggle-wearing man had finished his first word, Lilijoy had scanned him.


    <hr>


    Cal Liente


    Level 26


    <hr>


    It took her an extra second of subjective time to get his level, which told her that she had a slight edge in the area of Charm and Deception. In his hand was a rapier, a colichemarde if her internet memory was correct, which he waved lazily as he spoke. It was clear that he didn¡¯t take her seriously; given the wards in the area, he must know she was low leveled.


    Magpie was already engaged in combat with her opponent, out of sight behind a trunk and some particularly large roots, and Lilijoy was pretty sure there were others in the canopy above.


    They¡¯re toying with us. The ones above probably have bows. Hope they haven¡¯t spotted Skria.


    Oddly, it seemed like Jessila was being ignored for the moment.


    Her initial model of the situation was ready by the time her opponent finished speaking. His choice of weapon and general bearing told her he was fast and nimble, but he had made a mistake when he offered her the initiative. Or at least she hoped he had.


    Let¡¯s see who¡¯s faster.


    She closed the distance to her striking range with a quick shuffle step into a lunging kick along the ground. The Qi strike passed through her foot and struck his forward ankle as she caught her weight on her back arm and pushed off into a twisting sideways roll.


    His reaction time was quick, but not quite as good as hers. As she began her attack the tip of his sword lowered to meet her and thrust where she would have been if she wasn¡¯t using a ranged attack. By the time she had twisted away, he was rebalancing to address her new position, the forward energy of his lunge contained and redirected.


    He¡¯s good. Really good. Like Magpie good. I still did a little damage though.


    She knew that Magpie was considered an Expert by Inside standards. If her opponent had raised his Magi level with his weapon to Illustrious then she was in real trouble, as his skill alone would dish out sixty-four points of damage. At least she had a slight edge in effective reach and speed.


    She withdrew, wishing she had reached the level where her Qi strikes carried some knockback force. Her best chance in the fight had been to take him by surprise and get him off balance before he understood her abilities, but that was lost now. At least her model had more data. She estimated his effective Speed was around a hundred.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s always the little ones, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Lilijoy smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t count the big ones out either.¡±


    That was Jessila¡¯s cue. Her ironwood staff flew twenty feet through the air like a black bolt towards the man¡¯s back. Lilijoy had no idea why the man had been oblivious to her friend¡¯s presence, but she wasn¡¯t going to complain. She feigned a strike just as Jessila prepared the throw, and he was caught off guard by the attack from behind.


    The man sensed something at the last moment and ducked. If Jessila had been aiming for his head, it would have been the right move. As it was the staff hit him directly on the neck. It was one of those times that Lilijoy regretted the accuracy of her senses and the levels of perception allowed by her slowed subjective time. She could hear the sound of cervical vertebrae dislocating, see the horrific flopping motion of his head folding backwards to touch between his shoulders.


    Guess that was a critical.


    She had sparred enough with Jessila to know just how devastating her attacks could be. The damage bonus from her effective Strength was almost seventy-five points on its own. Still, it was startling to see a higher-level player killed in one hit. It was an example of what Rosemallow called mortality compression.


    ¡°Think of it this way,¡± her trainer had told her during a break a couple weeks previous. ¡°Over ten levels you can raise a few traits by ten points, unless you¡¯re being stupidly inefficient. That can make a big difference for your mana or effective strength, but it¡¯s not going to do diddly for your health. High levels let you dish out damage, but if you want to take it, you need great skills and decent equipment. Someone in the twenties and thirties can be taken out by strong low-level quite easily with a crit. It¡¯s why I think Vitality isn¡¯t that great. You¡¯re better off taking those two points and getting an additional point of Invulnerability. Sure, the damage reduction happens after the crit multiple, but it also makes it less likely to get a crit in the first place.¡±


    ¡°So, doesn¡¯t everyone do that?¡±


    Her trainer shook her head. ¡°Plenty of folks disagree with me on this. Mana-based damage becomes more and more of a factor as spells and magi skills come into play, and at some point, those extra health points do come in handy. It¡¯s a constant balancing act, and the correct allocation of points depends on your fighting style and the type of situations you seek out. Luckily, I¡¯ve given you the chance to figure some of that stuff out before you need to allocate points for your next levels.¡±


    As she had these thoughts, the man¡¯s body was beginning to fall to the ground. Her anticipatory model helpfully predicted the splayed configuration of his limbs, and she looked away so she didn¡¯t need to see it twice.


    Maybe this whole predictive model thing isn¡¯t going to work out.


    Jessila had a little grin on her face where she stood.


    ¡°Arrows!¡± Lilijoy called as she began a weaving sprint to where Magpie was fighting. She saw Jess begin to seek cover, just as two things emerged from the canopy above.


    The first was indeed an arrow. Lilijoy hadn¡¯t had much time to familiarize herself with archery Inside, mostly because her arms were too short to use a powerful bow. She had heard that a strong archer was among the most feared entities in the Garden, and now she understood why.


    The arrow ripped through the air. Lilijoy could see the disturbance left in its wake and realized that it had reached halfway to the ground in far less than a subjective second.


    At least 800 feet per second! That¡¯s faster than some handguns.


    The arrow struck Jessila through her right shoulder, passed through, and obliterated itself against the ground. She half spun and fell.


    The other thing to emerge from the canopy was a gray-clad body. Compared to the arrow it floated lazily in the air, with no particular thrashing or sense of alarm from the owner. She saw a bow falling next to it, though the arrow had come from a different part of the canopy.


    Must be Skria¡¯s doing, maybe one of her darts. Two down, at least two to go.


    Lilijoy continued her dash to reach Magpie, training her senses forward, though she did set aside one small part of herself to monitor the canopy for more arrows. They were too fast for her to dodge, almost as fast as the vorpal crows, but she might have some say about where on her body she was hit if she knew an arrow was coming.


    Within a second, another arrow flew from above, this time aimed at her. The timing was fortunate, as her front foot was only inches from striking the root in front of her. She used every ounce of her enhanced strength to stop her forward momentum and push into a cartwheel to the side. The arrow passed directly in front of her right eye, so fast it was a blur.


    Do my eyes have a shutter speed? was her first thought, followed shortly by, Hey, I can dodge after all. Must be because I know where they¡¯re coming from.


    She filed the shutter speed question for later. An incredulous oath drifted down from the archer as she took her next step, and she filed his location away for later as well. Another two steps and Magpie¡¯s opponent came into view. It was far too late for stealth, and her sling was utterly impractical while being sniped from above, so she charged forward, assessing her options.


    The woman had her back to her. She was short, shorter than Magpie by at least six inches, but her katana-type blade was long, almost as long as she was tall. Her straight white hair swung freely down the back of her dark-red leather armor.


    Magpie tried to wave Lilijoy off. The look in her eyes and impatient hand gesture said, ¡°I got this.¡±


    It didn¡¯t look like she had it, not even a little. Her clothes were tattered, and she bled from at least three significant cuts. Her opponent had no visible injuries. Lilijoy might have considered leaving it there, but getting in close to the white-haired woman would be her best defense against more arrows. She ignored Magpie and leapt into the fray.


    As soon as she was in range, she launched a Qi strike aimed at the woman¡¯s back.


    Let¡¯s see how fast you are¡­


    As Lilijoy released her attack, the woman glanced back and her sword whipped over her shoulder while she thrust a foot toward Magpie. The Qi strike dissipated harmlessly on the blade, and Lilijoy saw Magpie contort her body to avoid the energy launched toward her by the woman¡¯s kick.


    Okay¡­ that¡¯s pretty fast. She can intercept Qi strikes with her sword and use her own Qi strikes on her opponents. Maybe I should take my chances with the arrows.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She abandoned any attempt to model the situation and moved to her fastest subjective speed. Her scan only revealed a name, Jadis Nykka. The woman was really more of a girl, or somewhere in between. She looked maybe sixteen or seventeen to Lilijoy, and resembled a human version of Mumo, right down to the white eyes.


    In a fluid continuation of her previous moves, her body pivoted around the sword and her leg swung toward Lilijoy as it came to the ground, an utterly efficient redirection to switch her attack to Lilijoy. Watching in slow motion, she could only marvel at the smooth economy of the movement. The sword was beginning its descent as Lilijoy launched three more Qi strikes and rolled to the side. She saw a flicker of surprise surface on the girl¡¯s face as she registered the speed of Lilijoy¡¯s attacks.


    <hr>


    Two Qi strikes hit for 30 damage


    <hr>


    What happened to the third one?


    There wasn¡¯t time to answer the question, so Lilijoy resolved to review the attack later. She was sure that wouldn¡¯t be the only aspect of the fight she would be studying.


    I think studying that last move of hers alone could teach me something.


    As she rolled, Lilijoy saw the tip of the sword following her. Combat in slow motion was an agonizing process in some ways. As with attacks of the vorpal crows, she knew when and where she would be hit, had subjective seconds to contemplate the injury in her near future. She was thankful for the fine-grained control over pain her system offered; without that, the anticipation would be truly unbearable.


    She wondered, not for the first time, if having too much time to think was interfering with her effectiveness, and maybe even her skill¡¯s growth over time.


    Even though my models aren¡¯t helping yet, I can set them so they leave me just enough time to think in Flash¡­


    At that point, the tip of the sword slashed across her thigh and she lost the train of thought.


    <hr>


    You have been struck for 62 points of damage.


    35 points remaining.


    Bleeding damage 2 points per second until stopped


    <hr>


    It wasn¡¯t even a solid blow and it took more than half her health. She came out of the roll and pushed off with her good leg to escape any follow-ups. Behind her she saw and heard the chain of Magpie¡¯s modified chigiriki hit and start to wrap around the sword¡¯s blade.


    She had never sparred against Magpie when she was wielding the odd weapon, but she had seen how perfectly suited it was to entangling and disarming opponents. The weighted chain passed through a three-foot hollow staff, free to emerge at either end. How Magpie managed to wield it without entangling or clubbing herself was beyond Lilijoy. Even Rosemallow had been impressed.


    ¡°Not bad at all. Reminds me of an old¡­ partner,¡± the oni had said when she saw Magpie demonstrating the weapon to the others. From Rosemallow, this was high praise indeed.


    Now that the weapon in question was wrapped around the blade, Magpie stepped in behind the white-haired girl and slammed a softening blow with the staff portion of the weapon into lower back. Lilijoy was sure there was no damage inflicted, but Invulnerability didn¡¯t change the laws of physics. The chain pulled one direction, the force to her back pushed the other, and Magpie took advantage. She released the staff, slid her hand down the girl¡¯s arm and executed a perfect kotegaeshi throw.


    I thought she told me that aikido never worked in real life situations?


    Magpie had been an indispensable guide and translator between Rosemallow¡¯s teaching and the untamed internet archive. Lilijoy had been frustrated to discover that the most effective unarmed combat techniques tended to result in grappling, where she was at a great disadvantage. Traditional martial arts that centered around striking, like karate and taekwondo, had been helpful for her development, but Magpie had warned her that most opponents would quickly bulldoze her into the ground if she stood still to deliver a kick or punch.


    Aikido had seemed like an exception, and a perfect fit for a small person, as it focused on maintaining distance and using one¡¯s knowledge of body mechanics to control the opponent. Unfortunately, Lilijoy soon realized that she would need to be equivalent to a grand master before it could be remotely practical for her to use in any real combat. Magpie had suggested that she study the footwork and movement techniques and leave it there, so it was a little annoying to see her use the move.


    Nonetheless, it was beautiful to watch. The sword flew one direction and the white-haired girl flipped over her own arm. Magpie couldn¡¯t keep control of her opponent in the rough terrain, so she dove after the sword instead. Lilijoy was stuck keeping pressure on her leg to stop the bleeding effect while she prayed that another arrow wouldn¡¯t take her out. She couldn¡¯t do more than watch, not without allowing her health to drop even further.


    Maybe Magpie really does have it under control?


    Magpie came up with the sword. During the subjective eternity that followed, the girl rolled to her feet.


    ¡°Not bad.¡± she said. ¡°I haven¡¯t had my sword taken in ages.¡±


    Magpie seemed more relaxed now. She swung the sword several times, testing its balance.


    ¡°It¡¯s a great blade,¡± she said. ¡°Soulbound?¡±


    ¡°Not that it will matter, but yes.¡± the girl replied.


    Lilijoy ran a quick scan on the sword.


    <hr>


    Quench


    Made by a master armorer,


    this blade adds 10 to damage.


    ???????


    ???????


    Soulbound


    Unbreakable


    <hr>


    She wasn''t kidding, that is a nice blade. I wonder what the hidden abilities are?


    Magpie shrugged. ¡°What, is this where you tell me you¡¯ve been taking it easy on me? I don¡¯t think you can expect any more help from your friends.¡±


    Lilijoy could only agree. She wasn¡¯t sure what had happened to the archer, but the clear lack of arrows plunging into her or Magpie from above seemed to indicate it was nothing good. For the archer anyway. She used the time granted by the conversation to stop her bleeding with Prana, and prepare for the next round.


    The white-haired girl glanced upward and an annoyed expression crossed her face.


    ¡°Fine.¡± She crossed her arms to her chest, palms inward, then extended them toward Magpie while moving her fingers through a series of hand signs. ¡°Fire Dance.¡±


    She burst into flame and leapt toward Lilijoy.


    If Lilijoy had anything approaching normal reflexes she would have been caught flat footed. Instead, she had watched the tension gathering in the girl¡¯s muscles, seen the subtle indications that she would be launching herself to the side where Lilijoy crouched as she tended her injury. It was also the a reasonable strategy, eliminating the weaker opponent, so she had already prepared her response and reactivated her model. It had been very helpful to have the time to assess the previous combat, short as it was.


    The trajectory of the girl¡¯s body was projected as a blurred outline indicating the probabilities of future locations, ranging from solid to diffuse. Lilijoy rolled out of her crouch, into the area of lowest probability and launched as many Qi blasts as she could toward the clear outlines indicating the future location of the girl¡¯s head. Three of the blasts missed, but the fourth¡­


    <hr>


    Critical Hit!


    Qi Strike does 3x Damage (35 total)


    <hr>


    Ten points less than expected. Must be some protection from her Fire Dance spell, Lilijoy noted.


    The girl was already adjusting the trajectory of her attack toward Lilijoy when the critical took her in the face. Even without knockback, the Qi strike stunned her and she stumbled past, unable to connect the fiery punch she had meant to deliver.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t let the opportunity pass and sent out another intense Qi barrage. She had to give the white-haired girl credit; even off balance she intercepted several of the Qi blasts with her hands, but she couldn¡¯t match Lilijoy¡¯s speed.


    <hr>


    Qi Strike Barrage does 20 damage


    <hr>


    It seemed like the dancing red flames that covered the girl''s body were intercepting the majority of the damage, which was frustrating. She knew she had landed at least four good hits before her opponent was out of range. If she only knew how much health the girl had left she could formulate a better strategy, decide whether to wear her down or gamble on more critical hits.


    I guess Scan really is a vital ability.


    She pledged to raise it as soon as she had the chance, whatever Rosemallow thought. It seemed that opponents with roughly equivalent levels of Deception and Scan wouldn¡¯t be able to see more than each other¡¯s names.


    As she was thinking this, she could see Magpie moving into position, sword in hand. The white-haired girl had allowed her momentum to carry her a fair distance from both of them, well out of range for more Qi strikes. From there she turned back to Lilijoy and thrust out both arms, yelling, ¡°Fire Jet!¡±


    It wasn¡¯t particularly surprising when a narrow cone of white hot flame projected out of her hands. Lilijoy could see the edge of the flames as they approached, dancing and rolling through the air.


    This is going to hurt.


    Her injured leg prevented her from doing any more than falling to the side. It wasn¡¯t enough, as her opponent swept the jet along the ground to cover her.


    <hr>


    Flame Jet delivers 27 points of damage.


    8 points remaining


    <hr>


    Thank goodness I have decent fire affinity, she thought. I wish she would focus on Magpie.


    As if answering her thought, Magpie swept into battle, wielding the sword as if it was her own. Lilijoy had never seen Magpie look uncomfortable or unfamiliar with any weapon, and she took a moment to wonder how on earth the girl managed to have such a broad range of combat skills.


    Whoever was training her sure knew their stuff. If this Jack guy is even better than her, he wasn¡¯t kidding about being able to take me easily.


    Three strikes ended the battle. The girl deflected the first two with her armored forearms leaving trails of flame in the air as she moved. But this didn''t save her from the the third strike, which caught her across her throat. She crumpled to the ground, her fire stilled.


    Magpie looked over at Lilijoy. ¡°Thanks for the assist. I thought I could take her, but there was no way I could have handled her on my own.¡±


    Lilijoy was a bit surprised that Magpie was thanking her. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you held her off for so long. What level do you think she was?¡±


    ¡°I had her as level twenty-five, so I think we should feel pretty good, even if it took both of us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Jess and I took out a level twenty-six, but he wasn¡¯t anywhere close to as difficult. Skria got at least one of the archers in the trees.¡±


    Magpie looked around. ¡°Well, we shouldn¡¯t be chatting. You heal up while I find the others.¡±


    Lilijoy gestured to the girl¡¯s body. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we...¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Magpie smacked herself in the forehead. She walked over and looked down at the body. ¡°This feels really creepy.¡± She nudged it with her foot. ¡°This is seriously messed up. It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t seen dead bodies before, but she¡¯s just like us. Am I just supposed to¡­ strip her? Yuck.¡±


    It was surprising to see Magpie squeamish, though Lilijoy could hardly blame her. ¡°Can¡¯t you just do that thing where you, you know, turn down your emotions?¡±


    Magpie froze. After a moment she spoke. ¡°Noticed that did you?¡± She sat down next to the body, careful to avoid the pool of blood issuing from the dead girl¡¯s throat. ¡°I¡¯m so fucking tired of this bullshit.¡± She spoke softly, looking down at the ground between her legs. ¡°You¡¯re completely right, you know. I¡¯m not my own person, never have been.¡± She raised her head and yelled toward the treetops. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Raven?¡±


    Silence followed, and Lilijoy could hear the wind blowing through the treetops far overhead.


    I wonder who Raven is? she thought.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Magpie looked over at Lilijoy. ¡°That was stupid. It¡¯s only a matter of time before more clannies come. I¡¯m amazed they haven¡¯t already.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how to respond.


    ¡°You know,¡± Magpie continued. ¡°I really can¡¯t figure you out. I¡¯ve spent weeks trying to, watching, measuring, analyzing. Then I¡¯m supposed to help you find this Attaboy guy, which just between us, has about a chance in hell of happening on this little expedition.¡± She sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve got the right idea, buddying up with the Insiders. At least you can trust them.¡±


    Lilijoy had to bite her tongue. Now was not the time to share her theories about exactly how trustworthy the Inside was. Instead, she watched in silence as Magpie got back to her feet. She tossed the sword onto the girl¡¯s body.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it. I¡¯ve been told that I need to keep my emotions so that I can better understand and manipulate others. Fuck that noise. I¡¯m going to keep my emotions so that I don¡¯t do shit I¡¯ll regret later. Get healed up.¡±


    She stalked off, but not before Lilijoy saw the tear running down her face.


    I wonder who that last sentence was addressed to?

 Book 2.5: Chapter 11: Fallen

    Interlude: Rosemallow


    A century ago...


    ¡°Outsiders!¡±


    Rosemallow flinched at the vitriolic rage contained in her friend¡¯s voice. Eskallia the Serene, Eskallia the Placid, was nowhere to be found.


    She liked it.


    This latest outburst was one of many over the past days. Rosemallow had watched as her friend wrestled with the feelings of anger and helplessness engendered by the sacking of her forest home. She had watched her control the great surges of emotion, watched as she regulated her breath and calmed the stormy seas within, only to erupt with no warning, overcome by a new surge of awareness, some new realization of the sacrilege perpetrated upon her people.


    ¡°I will see them pay for their misdeeds!¡± Eskallia ranted.


    ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± said Rosemallow as she swung her mighty studded club into the wall of black scales in front of her. ¡°But maybe you should focus on the giant snake we¡¯re fighting right now?¡±


    Giant was perhaps an understatement, while ¡®snake¡¯ contained only a part of the essence of their adversary. Rosemallow could see Masgret¡¯s tiny form high above them, where she contended with the mighty triangular head of the serpentine beast, wielding blades of compressed air to lash the grasping sucker-coated tentacles it had in place of a tongue. Ani was off to the side, in the middle of summoning his flame cyclone. Shadow was¡­ wherever it was that Shadow went during such events.


    ¡°Here it comes again!¡± she yelled to her distracted companion. The beast had reared high in the air, chasing Masgret towards the clouds, but now its head was plunging hundreds of meters back to earth.


    Eskallia made a sound of pure disgust. ¡°I do not have time for this.¡±


    She raised her arms high, welcoming the gaping maw as it descended upon her. Rosemallow could hear the entirely unnecessary words of the spell Eskallia cast as she was engulfed.


    Oh boy, here we go again.


    She clubbed the thrashing body of the city-sized Abyssal Anaconda halfheartedly for a few minutes, waiting for the inevitable. Ani¡¯s flame cyclone howled over the horizon and descended on the beast¡¯s body, stripping barbed scales the size of wagons and charring the tender flesh below, but the mighty serpent scarcely reacted to the assault. Its vast body twitched several times and then went still.


    ¡°I say,¡± Ani yelled from where he stood. ¡°That seems terribly sudden. Don¡¯t tell me Eskallia did it again?¡±


    ¡°Afraid so,¡± Rosemallow yelled back. ¡°Time to dig her out.¡±


    Thirty minutes of arduous hacking later, Rosemallow reached her friend where she had passed out, pressed against the frozen heart of the beast like a tick on a dog. Within seconds of being excavated, she opened her eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the Archon¡¯s ruling,¡± Eskallia said. ¡°If I have to break every law of the Garden, If I have to grow enough to replace him myself, if I have to sacrifice my very soul, I will see justice done.¡±


    Rosemallow turned to look back down the tunnel of snake flesh she had excavated.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re headed back to the Garden.¡± she yelled out to the rest of her cohort.


    <hr>


    Chapter 11: Fallen


    With Magpie¡¯s departure, Lilijoy took a moment to relax into the comforting darkness of the forest floor. Every once in a while, if the winds above blew just right, the faintest hint of sunlight would filter down, a ghostly spotlight on the gnarl of giant roots all around.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t find sitting near the corpse of her opponent in the dark particularly gratifying. Neither did she enjoy the unpleasant sensations coming from her own burned and sliced body. Pain dampening and blocking were great, but they didn¡¯t help with the stiff crackling sensation she got when she moved her burned face, the sensation of blood drying all down her leg, or the unpleasant odor of burned flesh and hair.


    Dealing with the body would be easy enough. All she had to do was touch it and it would be gone in a few minutes. Like Magpie, Lilijoy had mixed feelings about looting the girl. There was no convenient looting mechanism Inside, at least none available to her. The bodies of animals and monsters had to be processed, which involved a skill called Harvesting. She had heard that sufficient development of the Magi portion of the skill allowed quick and easy gathering of any valuable parts. There were also various sub-skills like Skinning and Dissection that were more common.


    With sentient opponents, bodies remained after combat until they were touched or otherwise disturbed, after which a timer started. Then there were a few minutes to take anything of value before the body faded, at which point any soulbound or otherwise unclaimed items would fade away as well. Soulbinding was a quality that crafters could build into items. While it was extremely convenient, even critical, to have a weapon that stayed with you after respawn, the cost was half again the value points of the crafted object. Effectively, a soulbound weapon was only two thirds as good as it could have been had the crafter put all of their VP into the intended effects.


    Evidently, it was possible to build a defensive crypt around someone¡¯s body without touching it and retain possession of soulbound items, though it was very rare to do so. What was more common was to leave the body untouched and force someone to come for their own corpse. In the Garden, these issues didn¡¯t arise very often, but Lilijoy imagined they were all too common in Purgatory.


    The most powerful items changed hands with some frequency over the years, as soulbinding could not be added retroactively. Thus the owners of exceptional items that weren¡¯t soulbound tended to use them very conservatively. Additionally, many exceptional weapons and items were not any more durable than the material they were crafted from, as to make an item unbreakable required another additional fifty percent of the base VP. Many of the crafting modifiers worked this way, forcing crafters, or those commissioning them, to consider the additional qualities of an item very carefully.


    Lilijoy had learned this much from her class, and conversations with her cohort. She debated seeing if the girl¡¯s armor was soulbound, but in the end, she lost the chance to find out when the body faded away. It seemed that Magpie started the timer when she nudged the body with her foot.


    With that distraction out of the way, she checked on the progress of her healing. Her red bar was still quite low at thirty-two points, but at least she was no longer on death¡¯s door.


    Splitting her mind was very convenient for background tasks such as healing. One of Lilijoy¡¯s many projects was creating dedicated sub-processing units in her mind, which she was very hesitant to call subsets, to handle healing and Mana Gathering while she was otherwise engaged. She had already made considerable progress, with working prototypes that functioned about half as well as when she devoted her full attention, all while using only a small portion of her mind¡¯s capacity. It was very useful for times like these, when she had many other issues to contemplate.


    Still, I don¡¯t want to get caught with low health if another batch of bad guys shows up. Better give it my full attention.


    By the time she was finished healing, Magpie returned alone.


    ¡°They¡¯re back there,¡± she said with a gesture, when she saw Lilijoy¡¯s look of alarm. ¡°The big one can¡¯t move.¡±


    Looks like Magpie¡¯s back in form.


    ¡°She has a name, you know.¡±


    Magpie waved her off. ¡°It¡¯s weird that no one else has come after us. They should have tons of people to send, even with the big battles going on.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they don¡¯t know we¡¯re here yet?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t impossible. It all depended on how quickly the ones they had killed respawned. And whether the wards had been triggered by the girl¡¯s magic use. And whether the patrol had been missed.


    ¡°Yeah...¡± Magpie stretched the word out. ¡°I guess, it¡¯s looking that way. Anyway, put on your healer hat. You¡¯ve got your work cut out for you.¡±


    They made their way among the giant roots of the forest floor to Skria and Jessila. Both of them were wounded, though Jessila was in worse shape by far. She had taken a second arrow to her lower back and lost the use of her legs. Skria looked battered and one of the membranes between her arm and body was torn. She had the goggles from the attacker that Jess had killed perched on her forehead.


    Lilijoy crouched next to Jess and started working on her right away. Insiders couldn¡¯t block pain in the way many Outsiders with systems could, though Lilijoy knew that they could learn a similar ability called Fortitude. Unfortunately, Jess hadn¡¯t picked it up yet, and she could see the big girl was suffering.


    If anyone should have Fortitude, it should be Jess, Lilijoy though as she gathered her Prana. She sent the gentle green energy to repair Jessila¡¯s spine, reserving just a bit of herself to listen to Skria and Magpie.


    ¡°Good thing we brought you along,¡± Magpie said. ¡°Those guys in the trees would have shredded us.¡±


    ¡°The first one was easy. His Invulnerability wasn¡¯t too high for my darts. The second one was strong, but he wasn¡¯t expecting Swoot.¡±


    Sometimes, Lilijoy suspected that Swoot had some kind of mental stealth ability. It was incredibly easy to forget the huge shadow owl was around when he was out of sight. Which was pretty much always. He had found them soon after they had begun to travel through the woods, following his bond with Skria. Lilijoy could only imagine that Averdale was something like a paradise for his species, with its huge open spaces in the perpetual dark under the canopy.


    ¡°So what¡¯s the deal with the goggles?¡± asked Magpie.


    Skria¡¯s voice got excited. ¡°You have to try them! Watch me once you put them on.¡±


    There were rustling sounds, and then an exclamation.


    ¡°Whoa. Well shit, that explains a lot.¡±


    Lilijoy had to know. She split her mind further and asked, ¡°What do they do?¡±


    ¡°They find people who are using Stealth. As soon as Skria faded out, she lit up.¡±


    ¡°I think that they were all wearing them, so we should find where the other ones fell,¡± Skria added.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°The girl we fought didn¡¯t have any, or they were in her inventory. But you¡¯re right, if we can get more of these we should.¡± Magpie''s voice faded as she walked away, no doubt intent on finding the bodies of the men who had fallen from the trees.


    ¡°Sorry to bother you, Lily, but maybe we should use a treatment too? I¡¯m afraid it will take too long to heal us both,¡± Skria said.


    They each had one healing salve, all they could afford. The salves greatly accelerated the healing process, though they were far from instant cures.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°Just let me try something first.¡±


    An idea had come to her as she was healing Jess and listening to the others. When she wanted to use two different mana types at the same time, she pulled the mana from her core onto spindles and wove them together. If she pulled Prana onto two spindles and split her mind, could she heal twice as fast?


    She had known for a while that only one narrative consciousness could access her mana core at a time, much as only one consciousness could run her body at a time. When she was juggling multiple types of mana, she subdivided herself gently, in a form of enhanced multitasking. It hadn¡¯t occurred to her to split herself completely for the spindles, as mana weaving wouldn¡¯t work well with two separate minds; it would be like two people tying one shoe.


    She ran into a problem right away. The amount of Prana she could pull from her core was a bottleneck, limited by her Healing skill. It was easy to fill two spindles, but it took twice as long. She almost abandoned the idea there, but the possibility of keeping the valuable salves in reserve beckoned, and she persevered.


    Once she had two spindles of Prana, she found the next issue. Every time she tried to merge the threads from the spindles into one double-strength stream, the Prana from one spindle would flow back onto the other, like a short circuit. To solve this, she split her mind further and sent one thread down the left side of her body and the other down the right. With this technique, she was able to heal two areas of Jessila¡¯s body at the same time, one per hand. By this point, she had realized that another subdivision of her mind might be needed to move her hands, as she hadn¡¯t yet learned how to subdivide her motor cortex.


    There was a certain structure to the whole arrangement that hinted at possibilities for future growth, and it was rewarding to find a single task that stretched her mental abilities. Over the past couple weeks, she had realized that her mind had far more power than she knew how to use.


    It¡¯s like I have a mansion, but the only furniture I own is a chair, she thought. I need to figure out what to do with all of the extra space.


    Splitting herself into Lilijoy and Jiannu was certainly a start, as were her ongoing experiments with multitasking and creating long-term dedicated subdivisions. But the idea that she could create structures out of these units, develop architectures of mind to increase her power in the world, that felt both new and right.


    She continued to heal Jessila with both hands until her mana hit fifty percent, which was only about a quarter of what was needed. Still, she had repaired the spine, and made good progress on the gaping hole through her shoulder.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯re going to need to use a treatment after all,¡± she admitted to Skria.


    ***


    It was another twenty minutes before they were moving again. Magpie had found one more pair of goggles, and she and Skria had experimented a bit, trying to determine their best strategy, now that they knew the enemy might be able to see through their stealth.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as I feared,¡± Magpie whispered as they made their way along a particularly huge root. ¡°Once you know about the goggles, you can kind of stealth your Stealth, if you know what I mean. It¡¯s just one more thing to juggle. Skria can¡¯t do it, but you should go up ahead a little and see if you can hide from her.¡±


    After some trial and error, Lilijoy figured out how to hide her Stealth mana from the goggles. Unfortunately, it meant that her overall ability to remain undetected diminished considerably. She didn¡¯t feel too bad about that though. Jessila had been ignored in the initial attack by the patrol, and it was probably due to the fact that she wasn¡¯t using Stealth at all, relying instead upon the Cloak of Shadows.


    The other problem, if it was a problem, they were all considering was the total lack of opposition. Far-off explosions and the occasional distant scream or metallic clash let them know that the larger battles were still underway, but none of them could come up with a good reason why a larger force hadn¡¯t been sent out after them. It was increasingly likely, approaching certain, that at least one of the four people they defeated had already respawned.


    Respawn times were quite random, though affected by the death counter. The best anyone had been able to figure out was that each previous death could add anywhere between a minute and an hour to the respawn time, though the shorter edge of the range was most common. If the four members of the patrol were still riding the white after nearly an hour had passed, then Lilijoy and her cohort were fortunate indeed.


    Since first deaths and Academy deaths were instant respawns, Lilijoy had yet to experience a waiting period. She had heard that it was extremely annoying, that there was no timer or countdown to let you know how long it would be. Veterans called it ¡®riding the white¡¯, for reasons Lilijoy assumed she would understand when it inevitably occurred to her in the very near future. The bundle of mana in her stomach from the small sphere she had swallowed earlier served as a constant reminder of that. It was her primary respawn method to prevent capture, a bundle of explosives and poison that could be triggered with a thought, and it was called, aptly enough, a death-wish.


    Death-wishes had been supplied for all of them by Magpie¡¯s trainer; they were hardly the kind of thing available for purchase in town, even if they had the gold to do so. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t putting all her faith in a single method, but the death-wish currently inside her was her first and best option when the time came.


    The trunks around them grew larger and the canopy above them more distant as they neared the center of the forest. Skria climbed to the very tops of the trees several times as they progressed. Each time she returned back to the rest of the group, she looked more serious, though she didn¡¯t speak until the latest. That time she whispered to them.


    ¡°We¡¯re in the right place. The Top is just ahead. Most of the fighting is past the Burdened.¡±


    The basic layout of Averdale, post-Sinaloa, was no secret, not with the many Insiders who could easily fly above it. The Top was the part of the Greatwood that had fallen, over six hundred meters of colossal trunk and branches that lay across the surrounding lesser trees. When the arcane explosives planted by Sinaloa tore through the trunk, they were unable to penetrate the heartwood, so the massive upper portion remained attached to the base well over three hundred meters above the forest floor.


    On the other side of the Greatwood trunk was the Burdened, a sister tree that had grown into and supported the lowest bough of the Greatwood. Lilijoy remembered that branch of the city-tree well; it was called the Bough of Burdens, the first part of Averdale she had witnessed in her vision at the mystic library.


    They walked just a few minutes, and the perpetual darkness of the forest floor began to lift. A little farther, and they could see small patches of light ahead of them. At last, they reached the Top, where the ancient damage to the canopy from the falling Greatwood had yet to heal.


    In the back of her mind, Lilijoy had expected a scene of desolation befitting the great cataclysm of destruction that ended the Greatwood¡¯s reign, but over the last century life had dressed the grave of the fallen in color, as if the forest had laid flowers upon the tomb of its king. Dangling strings of orchids fell amid a thick cover of flowering vines, hiding the wooden bones from unworthy eyes. Her gaze was caught by the luminous hues of a thousand blossoms, and only reluctantly could she drag her eye along the line of the fallen trunk, see it ascending through the boles of its honor guard, stretching up and into the distance, where perspective was caught by the widening wood to make a straight and constant avenue to the sky.


    She could hardly breathe from the combination of beauty, majesty and tragedy that filled the air, for beyond the fallen Top stood what remained of the Greatwood. Her internet memory triggered as she searched for a comparison that could make sense of what stood in the distance.


    It¡¯s like Devil¡¯s Tower.


    And it was, perhaps crossed with a towering building of the sort once found Outside. She could only see part of it, due to the remaining canopy around them, but the sight nearly stopped her heart. Above it, birds wheeled and soared, and when she saw the bursts of fiery color beneath them and the rumbling of distant thunder, she realized that they were Avians, dropping bombs and casting spells upon their enemy.


    She turned to Magpie and whispered, ¡°We¡¯re going to go into that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the plan. Made a lot more sense back at the Academy, eh?¡±


    She didn¡¯t have a response for that. ¡°Where should we go now?¡±


    ¡°Tricky¡­ ¡°


    As Magpie was thinking, Lilijoy heard the sound of distant voices. ¡°Shh, Listen!¡±


    Magpie cocked her head. ¡°I hear it. People talking, about¡­ five hundred meters away, ground level?¡±


    ¡°I agree. Think it¡¯s people looking for us?¡±


    ¡°Doubt it. Sounds conversational, too sloppy for a response force.¡±


    ¡°Who would be out for a walk with all the fighting going on?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. You want to find out? Maybe we¡¯ll learn something.¡±


    Lilijoy looked over at Skria and Jess, who were in a hushed conversation of their own. She caught Skria¡¯s attention, and soon the cohort was huddled together. She filled in the pair, as neither of them had hearing that compared to hers or Magpie¡¯s.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go in the trees,¡± said Skria. ¡°It won¡¯t take long at all for me to get there and come back.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t use Stealth,¡± Lilijoy reminded her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to get that close. If they¡¯re on the ground, I¡¯ll be above them anyway. Most people don¡¯t look up very often.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t feel great about separating, but it seemed like the best solution. It was either that, or forge on into the heart of Averdale, which felt altogether too risky now that they were on the brink.


    Skria vanished up a tree trunk. In just minutes she was back with her report.


    ¡°There were six of them, no weapons or armor to speak of. They were talking about their families Outside and making quotas. I think they were gathering fungus from the forest floor.¡±


    ¡°Did you get close enough to scan?¡± asked Magpie.


    ¡°Just one of them who went off from the others. She was an open bloom, level six, sixty health. She had a weird name too, Recolectora2166. Maybe it¡¯s some Outsider thing.¡±


    Magpie raised an eyebrow. ¡°Sounds like a bunch of serfs.¡±


    Recolectora meant ¡®gatherer¡¯ in Spanish. Lilijoy thought of Mister Sennit, whose first name was Weaver. She realized she didn¡¯t know his Outside name.


    He probably doesn¡¯t tell people in order to protect his family. I wonder what name I would have if a clan chose it for me. Probably ToiletCleanerGob88 or something.


    ¡°We should follow them. They probably know how to get in without triggering any wards,¡± she suggested.


    Magpie looked skeptical. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sure they pass through a ton of live and passive security. They may carry some kind of token that lets them through warded areas.¡±


    ¡°What if we asked one of them? Skria said Recolectora2166 went off on her own. We could capture her and see if she was willing to help.¡± Even as she said it, Lilijoy knew it wasn¡¯t a great idea.


    ¡°Charm,¡± said Jessila.


    The contribution to the conversation caught Lilijoy by surprise, from its source and from its content.


    I guess she knows better than anyone how powerful it could be.


    ¡°That¡¯s not impossible for me,¡± said Magpie. ¡°But if it doesn¡¯t work, we¡¯ll have to send her to respawn. That won¡¯t feel great.¡±


    Jessila gestured to Lilijoy. ¡°She can do it. Trick the Outsider.¡±


    Skria jumped in, ¡°Oh, I know!¡± The others hushed her and she continued in a whisper. ¡°She can pretend to be a lost goblin or something.¡±


    ¡°Forest spirit,¡± said Jess.


    Lilijoy looked up at her friends, amazed at how quickly she had been volunteered to deceive and beguile poor Recolectora2166. She glanced over to Magpie, but found no help there.


    ¡°It¡¯s no crazier than any of the rest of this. Sure, why not?¡± she said with a shrug.


    ***


    ¡°Young human.¡±


    Maria let out a startled gasp. She had seen many things since her masters sent her to this alien world of dreams to gather mushrooms from a dark forest floor. The great lords of Sinaloa wielded powers beyond imagining, powers which controlled the very fabric of her reality. Even their servants, such as her overseer, could summon flame and cause the very earth to move.


    Others had whispered that it was all something called El Sistema de Sue?os, but if it was, she had never been able to wake up on her own. It was only when her overseer ordained that she had met her quota that she was allowed to return to her emaciated body and visit the waking world, to see her mother and her sisters.


    During her years in the dream world, she had experienced all manner of strange things. The lords had granted her the ability to see in the darkest night, so as to better serve. She had seen horrible creatures in the dark of the giant trees, great glistening masses of ooze that moved like waters she had splashed with her hand to envelop and consume their victims. Sticky hooked ropes that lashed from far above to capture and drag their screaming prey into the great leaf ceiling. Every journey to perform her duties was an endless night of terror, though in truth, such occurrences were rare.


    But this was the first time she had been addressed by the forest. She froze, hoping that it was only her imagination, that the stress of her life was causing her mind to play tricks. She could hear the others talking some distance away. Too far away.


    ¡°Young human of Sinaloa.¡±


    This time, the voice was more present, though still little more than a whisper. It called the name of the great clan of her masters. She had no choice but to reply.


    ¡°This one is not worthy of that name.¡±


    Silence fell.


    Then a being emerged from the darkness.


    ¡°Alux,¡± she whispered to herself under her breath. Her mother had told her stories of the little people of the forest, whispered warnings of their anger over the loss of the great trees that once covered their land. Now she understood that the little people, the alux, had come to this world of dreams, where the forests still stood.


    ¡°Be at ease,¡± said the alux in a soft voice. She felt a wave of peace and contentment wash over her.


    ¡°What is your name, human?¡±


    ¡°Maria Mendez,¡± she replied, amazed that her voice did not tremble.


    ¡°Well, Maria,¡± said the tiny being. ¡°I would like to ask you a few questions.¡±

 Book 2.5: Chapter 12: Sneaking

    Interlude: Rosemallow


    Thirty years before¡­


    Rosemallow stood in front of the sapling oak. The rain dripped down her face.


    I wonder if this is what crying feels like, she thought.


    "Well, Eskallia, " she said. "I hope you''re happy."


    She though back over the past seventy years spent with her friend, good times and bad. Mostly bad at first. In the first decade after the cohort''s time in Purgatory, Eskallia had been little more than a shadow of herself, alternating between morose hopelessness and rabid fervor. At times Eskallia would leave the group in the midst of their adventures, at first for days, then for weeks or even months.


    Sixty years ago something changed. Eskallia had met an Outsider in her wandering. This Outsider, little more than a boy, had soothed her somehow. The fiery hatred for all things from the Outside ebbed and transformed. The next thing Rosemallow knew, her friend announced that she would be teaching at the Academy, the very heart of all she loathed.


    When Rosemallow asked why, Eskallia had spread her hands.


    "It is the best place for me to grow," she said. "Why don''t you join me, dear friend? I know you are still searching for your Way. Perhaps you will find it there."


    After thirty years of teaching, Eskallia, now Dean Everbough of the Third Cohort, had vanished for several years. When she returned, she told of another Outsider she had met, a young man by the name of Echelon.


    "Mal, this boy was not like anyone I have ever met. His mind¡­" she had tailed off.


    Rosemallow had other concerns. Her friend wore a crown of leaves that sprouted among her golden hair, while roots twined and sought the earth at her feet with every step.


    "What the holy hell have you done to yourself?!"


    "I have found a path. I have been shown a path to greater growth than I could have conceived. Eskallia Everbough is no more. I have found my Way, and the first step is becoming Eskallia Treetouched."


    It was not long after that, at the next Unification, that Rosemallow found her own Way and became a Gongen of the Garden. Still, with all the new power at her disposal, she could not fathom her friend''s decision. Over the years that followed, they taught and fought, exploring and growing into their new status. Masgret joined them, and even Ani found a home nurturing the new minds at the Academy, setting the Insiders on their Way, guiding subtly the Outsiders towards¡­ something better than their raw inclinations.


    And now this.


    "I don''t understand your path," she announced to the tree. "But you sure as hells aren''t taking any more steps without legs."


    She stomped on the ground in anger, sending a wave of force across the rooftop gardens of the Academy.


    "Now, now, Mal," came a voice.


    Shadow.


    "There''s much more going on beneath the surface," he continued. "There always is."


    Rosemallow didn''t bother to look up. It had been decades since Shadow was visible.


    "There''s not even room for her roots here," she complained.


    "Eskallia''s path is now lonelier than ever. She has learned what we discovered years ago, that the surface of our minds can only grow so much. True power is found below, in the dark, away from prying eyes."


    "Shadow, knock it off with the mysterious bullshit. And since when did you start referring to yourself as ''we''? You always were a pretentious sack of crap."


    Shadow ignored her insults, as he always did.


    "Set down your struggles, just for a moment, my dear Mal. There will come a time when all of the necessary pieces are present on the board, when the truth of Eskallia''s path is revealed. I will be there for her when the time comes."


    Rage filled her body. She activated the full powers of her third eye, flooding the rooftop garden with sinister red light. Eskallia''s soul stood revealed, laid bare in front of her, vast and stormy. Shadow''s soul was a wisp of smoke, already twining and dispersing from her scrutiny.


    "You have never been there for any of us!" she roared. "Go back to your lair in Purgatory and lay your plots. I will be here, at her side, as I always have."


    Shadow''s words drifted to her from afar.


    "Even with such formidable vision, you could never truly see. But you will¡­"


    She stood alone again, in front of the sapling Oak that had been her friend.


    The water ran down her face.


    I wonder if this is what crying feels like, she thought.


    She realized the rain had stopped.


    <hr>


    Chapter 12: Sneaking


    Humming a song from West Side Story, Lilijoy returned to the others, her mind whirling with the implications of all she had learned from Recolectora2166, also known as Maria Mendez. Within a few exchanges, it had become clear that the poor woman didn¡¯t know she was in a simulation, didn¡¯t even have the context to understand what that meant. Not only that, but it turned out she had no access to her character sheet or internal display. Lilijoy could only guess that Sinaloa had built a system that hid all of that from the user and sent it to someone else to manage.


    It was manipulation on such a scale that Lilijoy could barely wrap her head around it. She could only imagine what evils Sinaloa was perpetrating upon the serfs with augsight when they were Outside.


    Now imagine what they could do with the Tao System.


    Her urgency to rescue Attaboy was now more than personal. Sinaloa obtaining the technology of a compliant Tao System could spell the end of what remained of human society. She imagined if it came to pass even Guardian would get involved, though given Guardian¡¯s attitude toward human interactions she couldn¡¯t fathom what form that intervention would take.


    Guess it would depend on whether Guardian actually needs us around, and to what extent. Otherwise, it might be easier to wipe the slate clean.


    Soon, she was telling Magpie, Jessila and Skria all about Maria and what she had learned from her.


    ¡°It turns out that Sinaloa likes its serfs to be low-maintenance. Every day they are sent out from their living quarters and spend about twelve hours gathering ingredients. When they are summoned back, they turn in whatever they found during their time in the woods. They don''t carry any tokens. There''s just a path they need to learn that keeps them from triggering any wards.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± asked Magpie. ¡°There¡¯s always something.¡±


    ¡°As far as I could tell, she almost never saw anyone other than the other gatherers and a handful of overseers, aside from the occasional encounter with a patrol. My guess is that their housing isn¡¯t located anywhere near the rest of the base.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t wait to tell them the next part.


    ¡°I guess it makes sense,¡± said Magpie. ¡°If you think like Sinaloa. Wall off the workers from everything else. Then no one else has to see them or deal with them. So we can get in, but it wouldn¡¯t do us any good. Kind of like breaking into a prison.¡±


    ¡°Maybe¡­ if the prison had exactly what we needed...¡±


    ¡°You mean...¡± Skria said.


    ¡°No way!¡± Magpie said.


    Lilijoy watched their surprised expressions with satisfaction.


    ¡°She told me that the top overseer has a crystal, a huge white crystal the size of her leg. Once, when she found a whole cluster of dragon¡¯s nest fungi, whatever that is, she was allowed to touch the crystal, and see her family as a reward. Her family on the Outside.¡±


    Magpie shook her head. ¡°This sounds way too good to be true. Oracle stones aren¡¯t as rare as they used to be, but I can¡¯t imagine Sinaloa would use one just to reward the serfs. There are way easier ways to reward people like that.¡±


    ¡°I thought about that when she told me. Maybe it¡¯s part of how they manage their systems remotely, like Sinaloa needs to be able to communicate with their systems from the Outside or they would start getting Inside notifications or something.¡±


    Skria looked at them with a confused expression. ¡°This is making my head hurt. You Outsiders make no sense.¡±


    Jessila grunted her agreement.


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but agree. The manner in which the Inside and Outside communications were blocked, except not really, gave her a headache as well. All of these workers that Sinaloa controlled and imported had to be stashed somewhere Outside, so why couldn¡¯t Sinaloa manage their systems at the site of their bodies? She envisioned a giant warehouse full of pods.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Except Sinaloa wouldn¡¯t even bother with pods, she realized. They probably just put in an IV and hose them down once in a while.


    She shuddered.


    ¡°It still sounds sketchy to me,¡± Magpie said. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think that you pretending to be a forest gnome would pay off either. How long before they return to the dorm?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a horn call when it¡¯s time, but she said it had been a long day already, so it might be pretty soon. I was thinking we might not need to follow them anyway. If it all works the way she said it does, there should be really obvious tracks the closer we get.¡±


    ¡°Do any of us have a tracking skill?¡±


    Skria raised her arm. ¡°I have Woodcraft at Journeyman, but I¡¯ve never put any points in it. I¡¯m sure I can follow the trail that a group of humans takes every day, though. I bet we all could.¡±


    ¡°Then we should hurry,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°It would be best to get there before the workers return.¡±


    They followed the shadow of the Top for a few minutes before Skria began to find faint evidence of workers passing back and forth. Their surroundings became bright and green as they passed into the area that had once been shaded by the Greatwood and the sky revealed itself. Soon, they missed the clear dark of the forest floor, lumpy as it was, when thick thorn bushes and tangling grasses snared their legs. After a few minutes of suffering the overgrowth, the trails of the workers became as plain as day and they found a narrow dirt path cleared by the daily passage of dozens of feet.


    The terrain became undulating and irregular, with steep hills and gullies, which Lilijoy soon realized were caused by the enormous roots of the stump that towered above them. The path wound among the roots and dense thorn bushes, following the path of least resistance. Several times it ventured under great arches, where the earth had eroded beneath the massive roots.


    ¡°They¡¯re really not worried about anyone following the workers back to the dorm,¡± Magpie observed. ¡°We haven¡¯t passed through anything that would cause a high-level scout the slightest problem, as long as they can fool the level wards.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Lilijoy whispered back. ¡°It seems like you would have heard about this from one of your contacts.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s bothering me. This dorm didn¡¯t show up on any of the maps of the compound.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they built it recently?¡±


    ¡°Or they normally have many more patrols, and pulled off most of their forces to repel the attacks today. It¡¯s been a couple decades since there was an offensive like this. They could have been caught off guard.¡±


    Skria caught their attention from her perch on Jessila¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°There¡¯s no more green ahead of us.¡±


    Soon, Lilijoy could see what she meant. It looked like Sinaloa had burned all the growth ahead of them fairly recently. Bare dirt and the charred remains of stems and sticks lay ahead, with only a few shoots of green popping through here and there. The burn extended in front of them as far as they could see, which was only about twenty meters, due to the irregular terrain.


    ¡°Okay, now I know where we are,¡± said Magpie. ¡°They cleared everything within two hundred meters of the outer wall. If the gatherers'' dormitories are outside of the main compound, they should be just ahead. Skria, it¡¯s time for you to get cozy.¡±


    ¡°I am not looking forward to this part,¡± the tiny glider said, as she made her way up Jessila¡¯s back under the cloak of shadows. Lilijoy heard some muffled complaints emanate from the wriggling lump, and noticed Jess wince several times, when Skria¡¯s sharp claws found skin instead of leather. Still, it was the only way they could hope to escape scrutiny from any watchers above, as Skria¡¯s skill wasn¡¯t up to defeating Sinaloa¡¯s Stealth-detecting goggles.


    Jess pulled the hood over her head and faded into the background.


    I guess it really was the right thing to stay in that contest. Otherwise we would have had to leave half our party behind, Lilijoy thought.


    For the next twenty minutes they moved in turn, advancing through the exposed area as cautiously as they knew how, always staying on the path worn by the workers'' feet. This close to the compound, they could hear screams and shouting from the distant combat, and the explosions from the ongoing bombardment shook the air.


    Hope they¡¯re all looking up. Lilijoy thought.


    She had no illusions that she would be able to hide from an observer with high Stealth if they were to carefully scrutinize the cleared area. She just had to hope that those watching from above were distracted, and perhaps complacent with their fancy goggles.


    Lilijoy was hot and itchy by the time they reached the squat earthen building that could only be the dormitory they were seeking. The smell of the burnt earth was stale and moldy, and she was using her system to suppress the coughs from the ash that seemed to find her throat every time her face approached the ground.


    She examined the building, a broad single story building with no windows. A low curving wall of earth formed a courtyard in front of the entrance. There were no guards visible and the courtyard gate was open.


    Looks like no one is home. I wonder if they even bother to lock the door? Or if they even can lock the door?


    The front entrance was a pair of doors that looked as if someone had lazily bound some small logs together, tied them to a post, and called it a day. Really, the whole building reminded Lilijoy of something she might have made from mud during the rainy season, scooping piles of rough earth into a mound and then using a stick to beat it into shape. Her hopes that they would find an oracle stone in such a primitive and neglected setting plummeted.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Magpie¡¯s whispered voice came from just behind her.


    ¡°I wonder what happens when it rains.¡±


    There was a hint of exasperation in Magpie¡¯s reply. ¡°Stay focused. I¡¯ll go ahead and scout the entrance.¡±


    Lilijoy watched Magpie¡¯s progress to the door. It wasn¡¯t that hard to follow someone in stealth, if you knew where they started and where they were headed. She could see small disturbances on the ground, and catch a glimpse of an outline from time to time. She thought of Jack, who might also be called Raven, based on Magpie¡¯s yell to the treetops, and wondered where he might be lurking. He had said he would be observing them for the whole infiltration, which boggled her mind a little.


    Of course, he could have been lying about that.


    After a few minutes, Magpie returned.


    ¡°The good news is that I couldn¡¯t detect anyone past the door. The bad news is that it¡¯s barred from the inside. The other good news is that there¡¯s a gap big enough for Skria at the top.¡±


    There was a muffled sound from nearby, where Jess had parked herself.


    ¡°Almost there.¡± Lilijoy heard her whisper to her passenger.


    Another few minutes of careful creeping and they were inside, door safely barred behind them. Ahead of them stretched a hall, with openings every ten feet or so on both sides. The rustic mud theme extended to the interior, with loose straw scattered everywhere adding a farmyard ambiance.


    When Lilijoy looked through the first door opening she came to, she saw a small room, with another opening on the opposite wall, through which she could see another small room. This pattern seemed to continue for at least another three rooms, though it has hard to know for sure because the openings didn¡¯t line up very well.


    This is more like a hive than a building for people. But I guess this isn¡¯t a building for people, not in Sinaloa¡¯s view. This is a building for serfs, who fortunately don¡¯t need to eat or go to the bathroom. I¡¯m amazed they didn¡¯t just put holes in the ground and cover them with sticks or something.


    Magpie gestured to the only other door in sight, a formidable iron-bound slab at the other end of the hall. It looked out of place in the crumbling earthen wall. ¡°Someone barred the door to the outside, so I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re in there,¡± she whispered.


    They were about halfway down the hall, carefully screening each side opening to avoid surprises, when Lilijoy heard footsteps from the other side of the iron-bound door. She dove into the nearest opening, hoping the others would get the message from her actions. She looked back as soon as she could, to see that Magpie and Skria had already disappeared, and Jessila was in the process of squeezing through the opening on the other side of the hall from her.


    ¡°Go blow the horn.¡± a low male voice came through the door. ¡°But you get this shit next time. I¡¯m sick of...¡± Here the door began to issue a series of metallic clicks that Lilijoy could only assume were latches or locks. ¡°...dealing with these losers whining about their quotas.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have eyes on the door, so she could only wait until steps brought a heavyset man wearing red robes into her view. She scanned him as he walked past.


    <hr>


    Magot¨®n


    Level 34 H.P. 118


    <hr>


    Okay, so his Charm probably isn¡¯t great. Also his health is on the low side for his level, and the name is a giveaway. Guess we have a mage here.


    She used the ample time her thinking speed allowed to run through a few scenarios. It was obvious that the man was relaxed and oblivious as he slouched down the hall. Taking him out quietly would be the best solution, if she could coordinate with Magpie.


    With that in mind, she put all of her Stealth toward moving quietly and slipped out behind the man, hopefully in full view of Magpie and others. Within a second, Magpie did the same, and the two of them were side by side, following Magot¨®n down the hall. They exchanged glances, and Magpie showed her the garotte in her hands.


    At least we never need to decide who hits them low, thought Lilijoy.


    Magpie ran a three-count with her fingers and leapt, placing a foot into the small of the man¡¯s back and whipping the garotte around his neck. Lilijoy grabbed his back foot and pushed it up with all her might. The man never had a chance. Magpie rode him as he toppled forward to the ground, too disoriented by the attack to even catch himself before his face hit the dirt floor. He twitched a few times and then lay still.


    Magpie quickly searched the man¡¯s body, with no sign of the reluctance she had displayed when confronted with looting the body of their previous opponent. Lilijoy could only assume it was the lack of stripping, or possibly the fact that a larger male body didn¡¯t trigger the same range of emotions. She showed Lilijoy what she found, several rings and an amulet.


    A quick Scan showed that the rings were pretty decent, certainly far better than what any of them currently possessed, which was almost nothing.


    <hr>


    Ring of Mana Storage


    fashioned by an Expert Jeweler


    +25 to Mana Well


    Ring of Flame Defense


    fashioned by an Expert Jeweler


    +10 defense against spells using the Flame Clade


    Ring of Strength


    fashioned by an Expert Jeweler


    +5 to Power


    <hr>


    The amulet showed no information when scanned, but Lilijoy could detect a glimmer of Mana from the plain silver medallion. She hoped it might be some kind of key, or pass for some or all of the wards, but there was no way to know.


    She glanced back down the hall to see that Skria had stopped the door from closing fully with a stick. She gave her furred compatriot a thumbs up, and soon they ventured beyond the iron-bound wood to find a much different type of construction. A short sloping tunnel lay in front of them, with a sandstone floor and smooth adobe-style walls and ceiling. Light was provided by sporadically placed glowstones. There was a single opening just to their right which led to an ascending ladder and another iron-bound door at the end of the tunnel.


    Lilijoy caught the other¡¯s attention and gestured to the ladder, while she mimed blowing a horn. Her timing couldn¡¯t have been better, for before she finished her pantomime a low brassy sound roared down the ladder and filled the hall. This was quickly followed by a woman dropping down the ladder shaft.


    Just as quickly, she was hit from both sides, top and bottom, four nearly simultaneous blows that dropped her to the ground. Amazingly, this didn¡¯t finish her off, perhaps because there was no particular bonus for attacking from surprise Inside. A studied attack from Stealth simply allowed the aggressor to carefully consider their target and greatly raise their chances for a critical, or as in the case of Magpie¡¯s garotte, land a type of attack that would be impossible any other way.


    The next round of blows did the trick, ending the stunned woman before she had a chance to retaliate or cry out. This time, Lilijoy searched the body, but other than a second medallion, all of the items were soulbound.


    ¡°All right,¡± said Magpie in a low voice. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that there are a few more people behind that door. I couldn¡¯t get a level off of this one, which worries me a bit.¡±


    ¡°Do you think the rest of them are just as strong?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°Probably stronger, sending out the weak ones to do the scut work. It¡¯s time to play all our cards.¡±


    They distributed the rings from the earlier encounter. The Flame Defense ring ended up on Skria¡¯s finger, the Strength ring on Jessila¡¯s. Magpie kept the Mana Storage ring, as it would raise her Mana Well enough to cast her Charge Bolt at full strength twice. Lilijoy and Magpie each kept a medallion, just in case. They were the ones most able to complete the mission, should they make it to the oracle stone.


    Lilijoy retrieved the Chaotic Gravity Grenade from her inventory as they briefly discussed their strategy. She relished the sense of nervous anticipation and allowed her adrenaline to flow. All the work, all the planning and training had come to this moment.


    The oracle stone could be just behind that door. She might know Attaboy¡¯s location in the next few minutes.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s get that door open.¡±

 Book 2.5: Chapter 13: Inverse

    Interlude: Rosemallow


    About four weeks ago¡­


    She stood in Eskallia¡¯s grove at first light, as she had every day since she returned to the Academy. As always, she spoke as if Eskallia was listening, though she rarely received any kind of reply.


    ¡°Masgret¡¯s trying to get her claws in my student. How that¡­ woman found a Way that made her even more of a bitch I will never understand.¡±


    The leaves around her rustled, despite the still air.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to fill her head with knowledge that the kid¡¯s not ready for. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve ever had one this young and dumb, and frankly, I¡¯d like to keep it that way. There¡¯s still time for her to toughen up and grow in the right ways. Can¡¯t we give her some time to develop, to have at least a sliver of normality before she¡¯s consumed?¡± Rosemallow¡¯s last sentence took on a pleading tone that would have shocked any of her former students.


    The leaves rustled again, and then a pool of water formed in front of Rosemallow and grew into a shimmering replica of her old friend.


    ¡°Dearest Mal, if it wasn¡¯t for the softness hiding in your heart, we never could have redeemed you from your evil ways.¡± There was a long silence. Rosemallow stared at the ground by her feet, unable to bear the sight of Eskallia¡¯s watery avatar. ¡°You have made a very reasonable assumption, especially in light of the previous Union. But this girl is something different, both more and less than the elixir needed to quicken the coming Union. She would suffice, if necessary, but my divination of the Great Mind¡¯s Way has shown me that she was not intended.¡±


    Rosemallow forced her eyes to rise. ¡°Well that¡¯s¡­ new.¡±


    A relief, she had been about to say, but she had already revealed more of her heart than she had intended, even to the being who knew her better than any other.


    ¡°It is an opportunity. Through her, my own plans may finally bear fruit. Soon, Masgret will bring her before me, that I may judge her suitability.¡±


    Rosemallow felt a mild sinking sensation in her chest, which she ruthlessly suppressed.


    ¡°How can I help?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You must keep her small. For this, I do not require another branch or bud. Those abound, and never have they served. No, for this, I require a seed.¡±


    Rosemallow shook her head. ¡°We can¡¯t tell Ani about this. He has taken to the girl, become entranced by her presence in our world, much like the Gatekeeper.¡±


    ¡°Ani is not necessary to our plans. We have manipulated events to our liking, such that our involvement will be minimal.¡±


    ¡°Gods, you sound like Shadow when you talk like¡­ oh. That ¡®we¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Our old friend was most gratified when you reached out to him.¡±


    Rosemallow¡¯s mind spun. In her currently reduced form she could not begin to follow the layers of the scheme revealed to her. Even were she able to make use of her mind¡¯s full potential, she knew that she wasn¡¯t qualified to understand the warp and weft of any plot involving Eskallia and Shadow.


    That bastard. He said he would be here at the end. I wonder if he was right about me finally seeing?


    <hr>


    Chapter 13: Inverse


    Two people sat in a room.


    ¡°Sweet Christ, could this be any more boring?¡± asked one. ¡°Come on. Let me have a turn.¡±


    The other did not reply. His palm rested on a glowing spear of white crystal and his eyes were closed.


    ¡°Dude!¡±


    The other man opened his eyes and looked at his compatriot with irritation. ¡°Dude yourself. Only five minutes left in the show. Relax.¡±


    The first man made a small sound of exasperation and settled back in his chair. ¡°Well I get it after we¡¯ve finished processing the serfs. Pasquel can go play in the dirt some more. I don¡¯t care...¡±


    Whatever the man didn¡¯t care about was lost, when the heavy door of their chamber flew across the room, smashing into the crystal-gazing man and nearly smashing the crystal itself. In the door¡¯s wake was a large figure with her shoulder down. She stumbled across the room and collided once again with the door, where it had come to rest on the far wall. The door¡¯s impact with the wall was softened, slightly, by the presence of the crystal-gazing man¡¯s body.


    Guess he¡¯s not going to find out what happens at the end of his show for a while, thought the first man.


    A dart bounced from his cheek as he surged to his feet to counter the charging¡­ gnome? Whatever it was, it was moving as fast as any humanoid he had encountered over his years Inside, following on the heels of the door-breaker.


    Just my luck that the Wraiths attacked us here when Arturo and Liza were pulled out, he thought as he intercepted the first two of six Qi blasts. The rest came too quickly for him to process, so he was filled with relief when he saw the damage.


    <hr>


    Qi Barrage inflicts


    36 damage


    <hr>


    Thank God for my ring, he thought. This creature may be fast, but it, she, doesn¡¯t seem to be much of a threat. If they were allowing us to wear our armor, I wouldn¡¯t have gotten a scratch.


    The orders hadn¡¯t made any sense, though that was nothing new. Honestly, no one had really minded not being confined in hot leathers or heavy metal while they sat around killing time, so there weren¡¯t any complaints.


    He had just enough time to grab his short sword from inventory and cast his Ice Armor spell. Behind him, he heard a roar as Julio threw off the door pinning him to the wall. Now the fun begins, he thought.


    He lashed out at the tiny girl, closing the last foot of distance with a sudden icy extension to his blade. Just as he was about to drive the point through her neck, his inner ears flipped and he lost his balance, instead drawing a thin red line the length of her jaw when his driving leg propelled his entire body into the air.


    What the¡­


    He lost track of the little one as she scurried past his floating legs, somehow using her hands to pull herself along the floor. Then there was a blinding flash of light and pain as something crushed his skull and he was riding the white.


    ***


    Lilijoy looked away from the mottled face and bulging eyes of their last opponent.


    Air magic is disturbing, she thought. Disturbing, but very powerful.


    It hadn¡¯t been the vacuum spell that killed the large man though. At Skria¡¯s current level of expertise, she could only hold it for a few seconds, and in a fixed area at that. The man hadn¡¯t known that though, and his moment of panic allowed the rest of the party to pile on the critical hits that brought him down.


    ¡°Did you see the look on the ice guy¡¯s face when he left the ground?¡± Magpie asked with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get me one of those gravity thingies. I don¡¯t suppose you could tell tall and scary that we lost it?¡±


    The moment that the ice man¡¯s sword doubled in length faster than she could react was probably fixed in Lilijoy¡¯s memory for good. Everything that happened immediately after was quite muted by the absolute clarity of the near death experience. She remembered escaping along the floor, and seeing Magpie absolutely tee up on the man¡¯s head with the weighted end of her chigiriki¡¯s chain.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure Master Rosemallow would be very understanding.¡±


    Magpie shuddered and turned to consider the crystal, which had miraculously remained intact through the mayhem. Lilijoy turned her gaze there too. Here it was, the object of their expedition, now within their grasp. It looked like something just pulled from the ground, an uneven hunk of quartz or something similar, prism piled upon prism into a skinny pyramid, shaped almost like the pointed top of a stalagmite.


    ¡°Not much to look at, is it?¡± Magpie noted.


    ¡°I just touch it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I read. There weren¡¯t any relevant experiences in the mystic library, at least none I had access to. Once you touch it, your system can form an interface with the specific outside network it¡¯s attuned to. Evidently, the attuning process is a major pain, and Outside security protocols can break the connection, so odds are good that we¡¯ll find an unsecured network on the other end."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Lilijoy let Magpie¡¯s words flow in the background. She knew all of that already, had known it since their very first meeting to plan the infiltration. There was a good possibility that they weren¡¯t truly done, that this crystal would be connected to a network that had no information of any value to her. Her built-in bias detectors were screaming at her, identifying her hesitation as reluctance to face the simple fact that they probably weren¡¯t finished in Averdale.


    Jeesh, can¡¯t I have a few seconds to be a normal person? she asked her system.


    Naturally, there was no reply. Her mind was all in one place for this moment, for the possibility that the next phase of her life could begin.


    She reached out her hands.


    Even before her palm touched, she felt it, saw it too. Nandi¡¯s boon was glowing, resonating with the oracle stone. She felt a force pull her hand like a strong magnet, heard the audible click as she made the connection.


    Her mind went elsewhere, somewhere very different from whatever expectations she had been able to glean from her research of oracle stones. She stood in a grassy field. In front of her was a glowing form, a translucent outline of Nandi, the bull. This Nandi was white and luminous, and when he spoke, his voice sounded thin and distant.


    ¡°Greetings, Lilijoy of the Teeth and Arms.¡± While bulls could not smile, there was no mistaking the joy in his voice. ¡°You have awoken the fragment of myself I placed inside my gift to you. I bear you a simple message, both explanation and apology. Perhaps I should deliver the explanation first. My Way is that of that of joyful anticipation, the eager awaiting of that which is to come. It is why I have chosen to usher in new souls from Outside for these many years. Though many try to hide it, none can escape the powerful excitement of a threshold to a new life and new discoveries. Thus it is only in my nature that my gift to you would create more of the same. I look forward to experiencing your excitement as you discover and utilize the wonders contained therein. I apologize for the lack of any clarity or instruction, but that would ruin the fun, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Seeing a bull wink was new to Lilijoy.


    ¡°One last thought before I go. A riddle for you,¡± His voice became serious. ¡°Four have come before, only one persists. Seek out the master of five eyes so that there may be two.¡± His voice began to fade. ¡°Fare thee well, little dancer.¡±


    The field around her faded as well, first to black, and then into a uniform gray with a single message floating in front of her.


    <hr>


    Connecting to network...


    <hr>


    Well, that was interesting. Like I don¡¯t already have enough to think about. Nandi, I¡¯d love to give your boon the anticipation it deserves, and your riddle the attention it no doubt merits, but those will just have to wait.


    The Sinaloa network opened before her and she flooded it with requests for information, using her system capabilities to map and explore the file structures and search every corner where the information she wanted may be hiding. The translation protocols of the Inside seemed to be in effect still, but just to be safe she had prepared possible search terms and phrases in many languages, especially Spanish. It didn¡¯t take her long to realize that the network she had accessed was somewhat limited. As she had feared, it connected to standard sources of information, and possessed extensive records pertaining to the management and oversight of the workers, as well as programs for managing their systems remotely.


    She set her system to vacuum up as much data as she could, then split her mind again and again, straining to uncover any possible lead, hoping to find a way to access more valuable data. In seconds she had her first lead. The database of workers had their places of origin and current locations, as well as that of their families. This allowed her to cross-reference maps she had found online and refine her sense of where major Sinaloa holdings were located.


    There was also much to be learned from the personnel files of the overseers. She quickly realized that Sinaloa was not particularly well organized as a bureaucracy, though it was clear they had some aspirations in that direction. The files had random formats and inconsistent types of information, including one that was simply a picture of handwritten notes, which made it hard for her to quickly scan through them. Several of them contained links to other databases, and it was there that she had her breakthrough, by following a link that led to another server. Her system blasted through some low-level security protocols and then she had access to unencrypted files containing lists of new and provisional members of the clan going back decades.


    With a silent apology to Nandi, she dampened her anticipation, restrained the excitement that she felt. It was only another step in the right direction after all, not the answer she was seeking. Most of the other areas of the new network she had found were much better secured, and her system wouldn¡¯t be able to access them in the time she had available. There were a few file systems that would only take minutes for her to access, and she set to work on those, while she began to analyze the list of new and provisional members.


    Her first realization was just how unlikely it was for a provisional member to be accepted. Looking through the long, long list, provisional members outnumbered new members by at least twenty to one. It also became clear that Sinaloa was less of a traditional clan, where family lineage and inheritance dictated membership and standing, and more of a brutal meritocracy, at least at the lowest levels. The vast majority of the names on the provisional list had a ¡®deceased¡¯ marker, while relatively few had the ¡®promoted¡¯ one.


    She was still looking over that list when her system notified her that a new file had been added to the previous server, the one directly connected to the oracle stone. At first, she dismissed the prompt without thinking much about it, but after a few seconds, she couldn¡¯t help herself, and returned her awareness to the first network to see what it was. The file was titled ¡®Indigenous Worker Program¡¯ and she opened it immediately.


    A quick search and there he was. Attaboy Duende, at a work camp in Calamar, Columbia. There was even a picture of him attached. An electric thrill went through her, and she studied the picture, looking for signs of abuse and injury while renewing her acquaintance with Attaboy¡¯s familiar features.


    I¡¯ve done it. I¡¯ve finally done it. What are the odds that¡­


    A chill passed through her, displacing her previous excitement. What indeed were the odds that this file would just happen to show up when she happened to be looking?


    Honeypot.


    The word floated in from her internet memory.


    They know I¡¯m in the system. And that means¡­


    She pulled out of the oracle stone as fast as she could.


    ¡°It¡¯s a trap!¡±


    Her companions stood around her, looking up at dirt falling from the ceiling, their faces already showing signs of fear and surprise.


    I guess it¡¯s time to learn what ¡®ride the white¡¯ means.


    ¡°Time to respawn!¡± she yelled as she willed her death-wish device to detonate.


    Nothing happened.


    She saw surprise on Skria¡¯s face as well.


    The ceiling above them ripped free with a great grinding sound, not falling, but moving up and away in a cloud of dirt and dust, revealing the late afternoon sun and a host of armored figures looking down upon them. She grabbed the backup method, a poison pill Skria had made for her using the most vile ingredients available, but before she could bring it to her lips she heard a voice.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± the voice explained, reasonably enough. She froze in place.


    A part of her mind that was occupied with going through the files she had absorbed abandoned its task and surged to the fore. She quickly rerouted control of her motor circuits away from the part of her mind that heard the command and jammed the pill in her mouth. Magpie had warned her of this possibility, that a Charm Master might be employed to prevent respawn techniques, and Lilijoy had developed a number of failsafes to avoid being captured in this way. She quickly turned off her hearing to avoid being convinced to regurgitate or something of that nature.


    <hr>


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 30 seconds


    Health 77/97


    <hr>


    It was a bit of overkill, but now she just needed to help the others in the three seconds she had left.


    She took a quick inventory of the scene, her mind at full speed. Jessila was in the process of falling, caught off balance by the Charm Master¡¯s command, with Skria clinging to her shoulder. Magpie was nowhere to be seen.


    Did she betray us?


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t focus on that now. She had one more option to help her friends escape. Skria was first, only a few feet away and immobilized by Charm, Lilijoy dispatched her in the first second.


    <hr>


    Critical! (x2)


    Qi Strikes inflict 90 points of damage.


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 29 seconds


    Health 57/97


    <hr>


    She pushed her very mixed feelings about pulping her helpless friend to the side and turned her efforts to Jessila. This was a much more daunting task, and she wasn¡¯t sure she could do it in the time remaining. It didn¡¯t help that Jess was falling at an angle which made it difficult to hit her vital areas. Lilijoy did her best to target her friend¡¯s head, but as she feared, glancing blows didn¡¯t produce the criticals she needed to work through two hundred and fifty health points.


    <hr>


    Qi Barrage inflicts 60 points of damage.


    190/250


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 28 seconds


    Health 37/97


    <hr>


    Jessila hit the ground and Lilijoy dashed up her immobilized form, which cost her almost half a second.


    I just need four crits. I can do this.


    She launched into her barrage of Qi strikes, but to her horror, they were intercepted by a glowing shield that manifested over Jessila¡¯s head.


    <hr>


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 27 seconds


    Health 17/97


    <hr>


    This was a scene from her worst nightmares. She would be abandoning the most vulnerable of them all to Sinaloa¡¯s tender mercies. Jess had no ability to log out, no way to reduce the pain she would feel. Lilijoy felt a scream of frustration begin to tear through her throat as she pumped her arms, delivering impotent Qi blasts in the last fraction of a second she had available.


    The dagger came with no warning, slicing through the tender, perfect skin of Jessila¡¯s throat. In the last fraction of a second remaining to her she turned to see Magpie standing next to her. A new message flashed through her internal awareness, one she almost ignored in the relief that they had gotten away after all. Surely, Magpie would have been able to take her own poison pill if she had escaped from the Charm.


    <hr>


    You have entered a healing aura.


    You have been healed for 15 points


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 26 seconds


    Health 12/97


    <hr>


    No!


    She watched as the same emotion of alarm crossed Magpie¡¯s features, watched as she turned the dagger toward Lilijoy when she could have just as easily slit her own throat.


    Lilijoy lifted her chin to accept her friend¡¯s sacrifice.


    The black-feathered arrow took Magpie through the skull before she could complete the motion.


    <hr>


    You are in a healing aura.


    You have been healed for 15 points


    You have entered a recovery zone.


    You have been healed for 10 points


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 25 seconds


    Health 17/97


    <hr>


    Even as Magpie¡¯s body fell to the ground, the stone at Lilijoy¡¯s feet rose around her, encasing her arms and legs.


    <hr>


    You are in a healing aura.


    You have been healed for 15 points


    You are in a recovery zone.


    You have been healed for 10 points


    You have been poisoned!


    Unknown substance


    20 points of damage per second for 24 seconds


    Health 22/97


    <hr>


    The last thing she saw before the stone covered her eyes was the archer, Jack.


    Raven.


    He gave her an apologetic shrug and vanished.


    She had been captured.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 14: Encased

    ¡°You are never going to believe this!¡±


    Anda¡¯s voice was full of excitement. He started speaking as soon as Lilijoy opened her eyes.


    Lilijoy took a deep breath, grateful to be spared the task of telling Anda what had happened, even for a few seconds. She had logged out before she had to witness what Sinaloa might do to her helpless, stone-encased body.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± His eyes were shining, full of life, and just for a moment, Lilijoy forgot that she had just killed Skria, watched Jessila and Magpie murdered, and been happy about it.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Attaboy is at the Academy!¡±


    Anda delivered the news triumphantly and sat back to watch her reaction. He didn¡¯t get any. Instead, Lilijoy went utterly still. An odd, numb sensation crawled across her mind with every thought.


    It was all for nothing, was the first thought. That was followed by: I could have stayed at the Academy. It took her another moment to think: Now I can¡¯t see him Inside, which prompted: He¡¯s at the Academy, and I¡¯ve been captured by Sinaloa.


    The irony of the reversal was not lost on her. When she finally mustered a response to the increasingly confused Anda, it didn¡¯t have much emotion behind it.


    ¡°Perfect. Wish I¡¯d known that a little sooner.¡±


    Something finally clicked in Anda¡¯s understanding. ¡°I take it things went poorly?¡±


    ¡°You could say that.¡± She had to drag the next words out of herself. ¡°I got captured.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Anda seemed to shrink a little. ¡°How?¡±


    Lilijoy told him the story and filled him in on her suspicions.


    ¡°They were expecting us. I have to assume that Magpie¡¯s organization was working with Sinaloa. Our death-wishes didn¡¯t work, and that could only be because they weren¡¯t meant to work in the first place. The only good news is that the others escaped, partly thanks to Magpie. I don¡¯t think she had any idea that it was all a sham.¡±


    She felt so stupid. No wonder Raven had wanted the infiltration to go forward. He had only emerged to talk to her when it seemed like his plans were in jeopardy. She had even picked up on the oddness but passed it off as paranoia.


    I need to examine all the decisions that led to this result.


    She replayed the entire infiltration in her mind, examining her reasoning and motivation at each juncture. It all came back to one central mistake; overconfidence in the respawn methods. The decision to move forward despite growing misgivings was always framed by the belief that there was a near-certain escape route from any trap.


    And why was she overconfident?


    She had considered the death-wishes malfunctioning, and arranged for backup respawn methods. She had made certain that they were distributed randomly. They had even tested one back at the Academy.


    She had not accounted for the possibility that Magpie¡¯s trainer would give them trapped death-wishes and that Magpie would not know. That was where everything went sideways. If Magpie had known, if her intent was truly malicious, Lilijoy felt certain she would have detected it. In hindsight, it was a painfully obvious mistake. She had not thoroughly examined the possibility that Magpie¡¯s organization was collaborating with Sinaloa without Magpie¡¯s knowledge.


    After all, Rosemallow had invited them in, and there was never any indication that the mysterious organization with deep Inside connections would ally themselves with the most hated group of Outsiders.


    It wasn¡¯t that she hadn¡¯t considered it as a possibility, but she had assigned it too low a probability, and focused her thoughts and energy preparing contingencies for more likely scenarios.


    But what did Sinaloa really get out of any of this? Why such an elaborate charade?


    ¡°I can¡¯t help wondering what Sinaloa¡¯s endgame could possibly be,¡± Anda said in parallel to her thoughts. ¡°Maybe they thought you would seek out Attaboy at the Outside location they provided and fall into another trap? That seems awfully baroque though.¡±


    ¡°It sounds about right to me,¡± she replied. ¡°People haven¡¯t been overestimating my intelligence so far, why start now? If they had been a bit more subtle, it could have worked. I¡¯m betting that they didn¡¯t trust me to find the file they wanted me to find, so they delivered it on a silver platter.¡±


    Anda shook his head. ¡°To be that obvious though? If they were working with Magpie¡¯s people, they must have some sense of your capabilities.¡±


    ¡°Now who¡¯s overestimating the intelligence of organizations? To them I¡¯ll always be a dumb gob who has a treasure inside her. I¡¯m not so sure they¡¯re wrong.¡±


    Anda¡¯s face softened. ¡°You know that¡¯s far from the truth. I advised you to consider your strength over your fears when making decisions, and I stand by that advice. Here you stand, utterly free, powerful and on the brink of even greater power. You made the right decision, going in. The ones who made the mistake are those who have made you an enemy.¡±


    Lilijoy considered his words. She had been angry with Anda when the public enforcers surrounded them in Manaus. That situation had turned out okay, but she could still remember the moment of fear, the helpless feeling that her worst imaginings were coming to pass, all because of Anda¡¯s naive optimism. Now she was angry with him again for much the same reason, but this time the worst outcome, or near to it, had actually occurred. She knew it wasn¡¯t fair to blame him, but the feeling of distrust, not in his character but in his competence, had occupied a small corner of her mind. But now she realized something.


    ¡°They may have kicked you out of your clan, but you never stopped being a warrior, did you?¡±


    He looked startled for a moment. Then he nodded. ¡°That¡¯s exactly right. I may prize thought over action, and the greater good over my tribe, but I will never forget the lessons I learned from my people. Do not fight a lion with a stick, but never allow fear to rule your mind. Fear is the mind-killer.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°I stole that last one from Dune, but my people would agree. A warrior moves toward fear and uses it as a compass in their life. They use it the way a bodybuilder uses weights.¡±


    ¡°It gets more interesting when we can just turn off our fear though, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°If we turned off our hunger would we still eat?¡±


    She played along with his question. ¡°I suppose we would, to avoid dying.¡±


    ¡°So is the hunger truly gone, or did it change form from a biological emotion to a logical one?¡±


    Logical emotion? ¡°Is this going to be another long conversation about semantics? I can¡¯t say I¡¯m really in the mood,¡± she said.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll get to my point. Fear has biological origins, but turning off the biology does not necessarily kill the fear. It may simply force it into a higher level, into a thought structure of sorts. We might then call it a rational fear, and experience it differently, but it would drive our actions just the same. And in defining it as rational, we are in danger of believing it to be correct, when it may in fact represent errors or incompleteness in our understanding.¡±


    A smile forced its way onto Lilijoy¡¯s face. ¡°Anda, it¡¯s amazing how you can philosophize under any circumstances.¡±


    He smiled back. ¡°Why would anyone do otherwise? But I suppose there are more pressing matters. I believe I have a very important errand to run on the Inside. Is there anything you would like me to tell Attaboy, once I track him down?¡±


    ¡°Tell him I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t be there. If he doesn¡¯t trust you, tell him I said that Pinton is a huge jerk, but Timout is okay when he remembers where to pee.¡±


    Anda made a face. ¡°I¡¯ll have to get that story some other time. With a little luck, I can get his contact information, and put you in touch directly. He must be registered with the system if he¡¯s Inside.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now get going.¡± She made a shooing gesture, even though Anda wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere physically. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure we don¡¯t run into anything.¡±


    ***


    The hovercar moved smoothly through the night. Lilijoy savored the peaceful quiet of the ride, enjoying the fact that no active piloting was necessary. That would begin in a couple hours, when they left the swampy riverbed and began to move through the more arid country filled with termite mounds and the occasional hardened tree.


    Getting close to home.


    She knew she should be thinking about¡­ things. Like her situation. Or the mysteries of the subsets. Or even Nandi¡¯s riddle. Instead she read. Even if she took her time and savored the writing, she could easily read dozens of books in an hour. Reading for pleasure was often a strange experience, as it was accompanied by the sensation of having read the book before. Luckily, that did little to disrupt narrative flow, or spoil her appreciation of a well-turned phrase, but there were no surprises or plot twists she didn¡¯t see coming.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    She hoped that someday she might come across an abandoned library, full of texts which had never been uploaded. But in the meantime, she found herself more and more drawn to books with great writing and timeless ideas, books that would reward any amount of re-reading. When she was in research mode, she would split her mind and read multiple articles and books simultaneously, but now she just wanted to escape for a bit, to submerge her personal narrative into one created by someone else. Recently, the someone else had been William Shakespeare. She had made her through the comedies and some of the histories. It seemed an appropriate time to read the tragedies.


    She hadn¡¯t been reading long when a thought bubbled up. If she was researching, she might have enhanced her focus and repressed it, but it somehow seemed wrong to use the powers of her system in such a way when she was theoretically relaxing. Plus, this thought wasn¡¯t half bad.


    I don¡¯t need motor circuits if I can¡¯t move anyway.


    Once the idea had surfaced, she couldn¡¯t let it go. She could split her mind and keep track of what was happening to her on the Inside without neglecting her responsibility to not drive into things on the Outside. Part of her was a bit afraid to see what evils Sinaloa had designed for her, but she figured it would be much better to check while most of her was awake and aware of a much more benign environment. She realized she could even set it up a bit like an internal screen, so that if there was something truly horrific happening to her Inside body she could just look away.


    Might as well get it over with.


    The first sight that greeted her was¡­ nothing.


    Did they blind me?


    She ran a quick integrity check on her Inside body, looking for any injury. Nothing seemed to be damaged, and there was no active source of pain, so she slowly eased into her other senses. She could hear all the right things internally, her heartbeat, the blood flowing through her veins. Her sense of touch and proprioception told her that she was restrained or covered in some way. After she filtered out her own scents, her sense of smell delivered earth, mold, moisture and wood. Living wood? There was a faint spice to the smell, the same basic scent as the forest she had spent several hours in earlier. The smell of Averdale.


    No surprise there I guess. It¡¯s only been just over an hour. They probably kept me enclosed in stone and put me in a cellar or something.


    The air in her nose was cool. She realized that her breathing was entrained to her Outside body, which gave her another idea. She wiggled the fingers on her right hand and passed the movement impulses through to her Inside body. It was no surprise to her that her Inside fingers couldn¡¯t replicate the motion, though she could feel them try. A few movements with other parts of her body proved that, while she was otherwise thoroughly confined, her eyebrows still had a full range of motion available.


    She was tempted at that point to use tongue clicks to get a look at her space, or at least find out to what extent her hearing was blocked, but she decided to wait a while before making any sounds that might attract attention. It wouldn¡¯t surprise her at all if Sinaloa had some way of monitoring her, or even someone right next to her in stealth.


    Okay. First job is to Charm-proof myself better. Then I can build a better smell map, and then see what¡¯s happening with my mana. Once that¡¯s done, maybe it¡¯s a good time to work on redundant motor pathways, so I won¡¯t have to jump around like someone in an ancient VR system if I do get a chance to move.


    She set about her tasks. The Charm-proofing was simple enough. First, she set her system to filter any sounds with similar profiles to a human voice. Then she built a small system to monitor what was being said around her and present it as text on her internal awareness. Her Outside consciousness would act as her final safeguard.


    The smell map didn¡¯t tell her much, as the air was quite still around her. She tried breathing out a bit forcefully, to see if anything would come back to her as a sort of smell echo, but all she got was more of the terpene molecules she associated with the trees of Averdale.


    Finally she turned to her internal mana. She half expected some kind of mana suppression to be in place around her. She had heard that such things existed, usually in the form of arrays that could siphon away ambient mana and prevent Mana Gathering. The fact that there was none, as far as she could tell, showed that either Sinaloa was very certain of their intelligence about her abilities, or they were being a bit sloppy.


    Or both, I suppose, she thought. I doubt many level tens would have a way out of this situation, though I might, if I ever find any earth magic to go with my random Fused class. I guess level ten will be long gone by the time I do that though. If I ever get the chance.


    The mystery of her acquisition of Fused was one of the many loose ends she had floating on her mental to-do list. It had gotten to the point where she just attributed such enigmas to the general peculiarities of her system, and she didn¡¯t feel much inclined to invest her mental energy on smaller problems that might disappear if she ever had the big picture. Still, she didn¡¯t allow herself to be so sloppy as to lose track of them altogether.


    There were two avenues she could pursue regarding how she picked up Fused. First was that her system somehow allowed it, despite the absence of a Source. The second seemed more likely to receive William of Ockham¡¯s stamp of approval; that nothing unusual had happened at all, because she did in fact have a Source. Her suspicion had fallen squarely on Nandi¡¯s Boon almost as soon as she had time to think on the subject. Now that it was activated, whatever that meant, she might be able to test her hypothesis, and if it was a Source of some kind, perhaps it could give her a way out of her current predicament. She decided to postpone her development of motor pathways and give her full attention to the white gem embedded in her right palm.


    She started to pull mana from her core without any attempt to categorize it, then had an idea. She could envision a new type of mana, one compatible with the gem on her hand. She had found that her visualizations and reality seemed to feed off of one another when she developed other kinds of mana, so why not make a white mana that corresponded to the color of Nandi¡¯s Boon? She knew that the color was probably the least valuable correlation, but it couldn¡¯t hurt. To make her mana match the boon even better, she needed to guess, as well as she could, what the heck it did.


    She knew that Nandi¡¯s Boon was somehow related to oracle stones. After all, it was proximity to the oracle stone that activated it.


    And what do oracle stones actually do? she asked herself. Is there some kind of elemental magic in play, or is it something else?


    It could be some form of fire magic, the province of light and radiation, somehow gathering or connecting to energy across vast distances and dimensions. But there were certainly types of magic other than fire, earth, air and water. Magi skills was one big category, as were abilities.


    Oracle stones were originally a scrying tool that allowed someone to see far away locations. Their use as glorified computer terminals was a twist, a trick, that allowed them to scry across the barrier between Inside and Outside. She suspected that it was the aspect of action at a distance that was more important than the actual energy collected.


    So if the oracle stone gathers signals across space, even from other worlds, then what magic would that be?


    She could easily recall every detail of her life after her system became fully functional, so she remembered quite clearly what Nandi said when he first gave it to her.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got just the thing! Something I¡¯ve had for a long, long time; but you might say I outgrew it almost as long ago as I got it.¡±


    She opened herself to her internet memory and meditated on Nandi. Immediately her mind filled with tales from Hindu sacred texts and other, more obscure references. She plucked out the key facts: Nandi was the gatekeeper or guardian to Shiva¡¯s sacred places, and also his mount, sometimes even manifesting as a chariot. He had come into being at the behest of a sage who wanted an immortal child that only Shiva could provide. When he was born, he was wrapped in armor made of diamonds.


    Gatekeeper, vehicle, immortal born to man, wrapped in diamonds at birth. The thing he outgrew almost as long ago as he got it. What need has an immortal for armor?


    Reconciling the rich symbolic language of the Puranas and other sacred scriptures with the manifestation of Nandi as a subset of Guardian embedded in a former video game wasn¡¯t a simple task. She knew that her Nandi cultivated joyful anticipation, which made her skeptical of the most obvious possibility; that Nandi¡¯s Boon was a part of the armor he was born in. For one, it just seemed so¡­ literal. And it didn¡¯t do much to explain the connection to the oracle stone.


    Although the image of warrior-Lilijoy clad in shimmering diamond armor did have a certain attraction to it.


    It wasn¡¯t impossible that Inside-Nandi was referring more to his own origins, rather than the mythological one. It could relate to aspects of the Inside that Guardian had removed over time. Transformation, summoning and telekinesis had all been taken out, or greatly reduced. There had once been necromancy in DayNight Universe; she was forever grateful that that hadn¡¯t made it into the Inside, at least not into the Garden. The general category of spacial magic had been almost completely phased out; its last remnant was the ubiquitous inventory ability. There used to be fast travel and teleportation type abilities, which seemed to be more up Nandi¡¯s alley in his role as a steed.


    I¡¯ve never tried really messing with my inventory, she realized.


    Of course, in the early days she had played around with it, ascertaining what would fit and what wouldn¡¯t, seeing how fast she could put things in and take them out again. She pulled up the text from her old tutorial character sheet.


    <hr>


    Your inventory ability allows you to store and retrieve items


    in a magical space only accessible to you.


    It initially takes the form of a simple bag that can never be lost.


    The pack does not interact physically with the world


    (for example, you may not attack or block with it*)


    *credit to Reality Bender Fredicus Lee


    <hr>


    She remembered her amusement at the image of Fredicus Lee, who her mind painted as a skinny Chinese guy for some reason, wielding his inventory in combat, clubbing his opponents and blocking their attacks. She figured the blame for that exploit probably rested squarely on the attempt on Guardian¡¯s part to make the inventory more ¡®realistic¡¯ by manifesting it as a simple bag.


    Even encased in stone, she could sense the contents of her eight cubic feet of storage, the various and sundry items for fighting, weaving and general adventuring she had accumulated. Inventories were almost completely secure against theft or looting, except in the case of manipulation of the owner via Charm, so it was no surprise to see her possessions as she had left them. To remove an inventory item, all she needed to do was reach into her bag and physically pull it out, something that wasn¡¯t happening any time soon. The system could at times be a bit slow in furnishing whatever it was she sought, which Lilijoy figured was yet another effort to prevent over-reliance on the magical storage method. It was a bit of a mystery to her why Guardian, or subset thereof, had kept inventories at all.


    She dragged her thoughts back to Nandi¡¯s Boon, and the flavor of mana she might want to create for it. If she wasn¡¯t encased in stone, she might have spent some time trying to perceive any mana involved in the use of her inventory, but as it was she needed different inspiration. She carefully avoided the many rabbit holes relating to the nature of space and time and decided instead to focus on the sensations and emotions associated with moving. Giddy spinning, joyously free; everything she was currently not.


    Her forced immobility freed her imagination and magnified her feelings like hunger feeds the appetite, and she took every morsel of the motion she was denied and poured it into a luminous white cascade of bubbling mana that poured from her core and filled her body until it reached her right palm. There, she drove it into the white gem, which sucked it in hungrily. Internally, she could see it expand, growing to fill her palm, then covering her fingers and wrist with diamond pearlescence.


    She felt a pang of regret that she could not see what was happening externally, but she imagined that her hand was now covered in a glove of diamond. She continued to summon mana from her core and pour it into Nandi¡¯s Boon, trying to expand the effect further, but all the additional energy poured off and circulated back to her core.


    Okay. Other than assuming the inheritance of the king of pop, what has this actually done? she asked herself.


    The portion of her mind on the Outside sensed her desire, and expanded her fingers outward. She couldn¡¯t feel any stone around her hand. Twisting her wrist in circles encountered no resistance either. It was as if her hand was in a different space entirely, which begged the question.


    If her hand was no longer encased in the stone surrounding her, then where was it?

 Book 2.5: Chapter 15: Question

    Lilijoy considered the experiences of her Inside self as she watched over the hovercar¡¯s progress through the amazon wastes. She looked over at Anda¡¯s quiet form and sighed, still feeling a little annoyed at his advice. Then a bit more annoyed that, somehow, his advice hadn¡¯t been quite as bad as it had seemed to her at first.


    I wonder where my hand went, she thought. I wonder if Anda has found Attaboy. I wonder what will happen if I walk into Night¡¯s Safety. A life full of wonder, that¡¯s what I¡¯ve got.


    I wonder how much of what I¡¯m feeling right now is me.


    She didn¡¯t need to wonder about that last one for long. Her system¡¯s automated regulators were doing their job, reducing stress, providing a low level of comfort and well-being. With well over half of her brain¡¯s processing taking place within system elements, it didn¡¯t seem correct to draw a distinction between her with and her without it.


    I am it. It is me. Will there be a time when I don¡¯t need any organic parts to my brain? Is that why the subsets like me? Dean Reunification said that my connection to the Inside was deep, that my attachment to the Outside was light. Is that because of what my system can do, or is that because of my system¡¯s identity?


    She had been mulling this question for some time now, maybe even since she registered herself with Guardian, at least to some extent. Each new piece of information, each trickle of experience had only deepened the mystery. She knew what she had to do, and knew she had to do it before she walked up to Night¡¯s Safety.


    It¡¯s time to really examine Emily.


    Emily¡¯s memories, direct and indirect, had been safely bundled away for weeks now. Lilijoy would have preferred to leave them that way for much longer, at least several more months if not years. She knew that she couldn¡¯t help but be influenced by the girl¡¯s personality and experiences, and she hadn¡¯t been able to rule out more subtle dangers embedded in her system.


    After dividing herself strictly and setting up a firewall, the new part of Lilijoy behind the firewall decided to take a page from her Inside precautions against Charm, and began the process of running an analysis across the entire block of sensory data, seeking out auditory and visual linguistic elements. She figured that a searchable text database would be a great way to keep herself at arm¡¯s length from Emily¡¯s persona.


    Immediately, she hit a major roadblock. The data wasn¡¯t exactly encrypted, but the only way to assemble it into a readable form was to reverse the method of its creation. It would require a substantial portion of her system to either simulate the biological components of a human brain, or significantly less if she went ahead and used her own neurons. In short, there was no way to analyze the data without some portion of her experiencing it.


    If she used her system to sandbox the memories and avoid most of her biological structures, she could decide how much of herself to use. Simulating neurons wasn¡¯t particularly efficient, which would impair her speed. Of course, her biological systems were already far slower than the Stage Two elements. It was an interesting problem, in theory. In practice, it was extremely frustrating. Unless she abandoned most of her safety protocols, it would take her over a week for any kind of thorough exploration of months of Emily¡¯s experiences. Without the protocols, it would still take several days.


    The one saving grace in the whole situation was that the memories were time-stamped, which would allow her to skip ahead, say, if Emily was asleep or watching a video. Except dreams could contain information from her waking life, and who knew if an important conversation between Emily¡¯s parents might take place in the background, while they assumed she was otherwise occupied.


    She berated her poor planning for a moment, before accepting the obvious fact that even a mind with super powers could only do so much. If she had realized how long it would take, it probably wouldn¡¯t have affected her past actions, other than changing the timing of her journey back to the wastes.


    Now I¡¯m almost here. There. Whatever. Should I skip around at random and hope to find something good? Didn¡¯t Jiannu have some kind of index that she was building?


    She could only assume that she had bundled up the index along with everything else Emily. She hadn¡¯t spent much time considering what was safe and what wasn¡¯t at the time of the decision. Now that she had access to all the materials, it only took a moment to find it and restore the knowledge to her working consciousness.


    Immediately, she had a rough overview of Emily''s history with the Tao System. She knew that it had been in Emily for five months, that the first month was controlled from the outside, a closely monitored, step-by-step integration of the little lotuses and her sensory nervous system. The memories from that time were highly episodic, and took place in a clinical setting. Lilijoy assumed they must be times when Emily was answering questions about her experience while the system was prompted to do one thing or another.


    Over the following month, the system was gradually released into Emily¡¯s control and became a part of her daily life. From there the sensory stream was close to continuous, although it seemed that there were a number of gaps. Lilijoy figured it was because Emily could erase or pause the recording if she was sufficiently motivated. She could only imagine what it might be like as a teenager, knowing your parents, or even strangers might have access to your experiences and inner thoughts.


    Guess the pros must have outweighed the cons, since she wanted to keep it, after all. Or she didn¡¯t really think it through. Maybe they told her it would all be deleted or something.


    It seemed as if Jiannu had been able to sort through almost a third of Emily¡¯s waking memories, prioritizing those that had strong emotional content, and she had indexed those by location and the people present. Lilijoy decided it was better than nothing, though she suspected that the type of information she really wanted might be found in less obvious places. She didn¡¯t want more teen drama; she wanted to use Emily¡¯s eyes to see her parents, to spy on them across time and space. An overheard conversation, a paper on a desk; that was where the interesting bits would lie, not in mother-daughter conflict.


    Or so she hoped.


    Still, there was one big character who had been absent from the family drama to this point.


    All right, Henry Choi. I guess it¡¯s time to finally meet you.


    ***


    Emily pumped her arm in victory.


    ¡°In your face, old man!¡±


    The face in question had an expression of benign indifference, combined with tolerant affection.


    Henry shrugged, ¡°Nothing makes me happier than seeing you improve, Dot.¡±


    How many nicknames did these people need, anyway? Lilijoy wondered.


    The memory she chose turned out to be Henry and Emily playing a virtual wizard-dueling game, set in a court of glowing white. She was viewing it at the lowest level of immersion, which had some definite drawbacks. For one, she wasn¡¯t privy to Emily¡¯s thoughts and feelings. For another, it had the strange quality of viewing the scene through a constantly moving field of focus. If she didn¡¯t look where Emily was looking in the scene, her view would be through the sensory information captured in Emily¡¯s peripheral vision.


    Lilijoy knew quite well that the Tao system could allow the user to achieve clarity throughout their visual field, but that didn¡¯t seem to have been one of Emily¡¯s priorities, if she was even aware it was possible. The memory was from the third month, so she''d certainly had time.


    ¡°When are you coming home?¡± Emily asked.


    The question came out of the blue, both to Lilijoy and to Henry, it seemed. Emily was watching his face carefully, and Lilijoy could trace a series of expressions. Surprise, concern, and guilt followed one another in quick succession, ending in a position of harmless cheer.


    ¡°What, your mom driving you up the wall? Looking for a second opinion?¡±


    Lilijoy felt her face muscles pout.


    ¡°Can¡¯t I miss my dad? Besides, it¡¯s dangerous up there. Mom worries about you.¡±


    ¡°Being here isn¡¯t dangerous at all.¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    ¡°You know I never lie. Besides, your mom wouldn¡¯t have let Atticus tag along if there was any real danger.¡±


    The scene briefly shot skyward, in what Lilijoy could only assume was an eye roll.


    ¡°How is Attiboy anyway?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing great. I¡¯m sure he would be up for a couple rounds once he gets done with training.¡±


    Lilijoy paused the memory. There was something bothering her about Henry Choi¡¯s appearance, beyond the fact that he was currently wearing a floppy wizard¡¯s hat with a gray sweatsuit. She pulled up some of the photos she had from the internet archive for comparison.


    It wasn¡¯t the same man.


    There were definitely similarities. Both Korean, both muscular. Similar round face and tapered jaw. But Emily¡¯s father had more deeply set eyes, slightly closer together, and more arching brows. There were other small differences too, ears at slightly different heights, nose slightly less turned up.


    Well, well. Guess you liked your privacy.


    She could only assume that the internet pictures were there to defeat the use of facial recognition software. It was probably part of the same mindset that led to such a small internet footprint in general.


    She looked into Henry Choi¡¯s eyes, dark brown, almost black, but present, warm and radiating laugh lines. He was fifty-five at the time of the memory.


    This is the face that almost changed the world. I wonder what went wrong.


    Something tickled at the back of her mind. Her unconscious processes were trying to send a spike of adrenaline, which her system kindly intercepted, but not before just enough got through to make her heart speed up. She had seen this face before, seen these eyes, surrounded not by laugh lines but by dirt and scars. She resisted the dawning awareness. It was impossible.


    Take this face, cover it with dirt, scars and unkempt beard, Take that hair and grow it for decades, until it is heavy with mats and tangles. Take that broad body and humble it with neglect and damage over decades.


    Henry Choi was Mooster.


    ***


    Magpie restrained herself. ¡°You motherfucking son of a bitch!¡±


    Raven raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve always enjoyed how that insult sneaks bestiality around the back, as it were. In other news, you should be thanking me for saving you from your own poor planning.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I refuse to be speechless. I refuse to be speechless, Magpie thought, as her mouth attempted to formulate an appropriate response. Shit.


    ¡°Let me tell you a story,¡± Raven continued. ¡°It¡¯s about a handsome young lad - ¡°


    Magpie walked away.


    ¡°Hey...¡± Raven¡¯s voice followed her. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten to the surprising part yet.¡±


    Do not engage with the asshole. Do not engage¡­ screw it.


    ¡°My god, what is wrong with you!?¡± she said, turning back to him.


    ¡°I blame my parents.¡±


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have parents.¡±


    ¡°Society then?¡± he said in a plaintive voice. ¡°Anyway, about this lad -¡±


    ¡°You, you mean.¡±


    ¡° - he was raised in a creche, along with other handsome lads and lasses, though none so handsome as he.¡±


    Magpie turned off her external hearing and pulled up a saved video on her internal awareness, a period drama from the twenty-first century, set in nineteenth century Russia. She nodded once in a while in Raven¡¯s direction to encourage him. Periodically she checked to see if his lips were still moving.


    After ten minutes or so, he made a particularly emphatic gesture and stopped talking. She paused the video and turned her hearing back on.


    ¡°That was very interesting,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to think so,¡± he said. ¡°But getting back to our handsome lad in the creche...¡±


    Oh crap.


    ¡°¡­ he and the others were raised by a series of people. Mostly older women at first. Everything about their upbringing was meticulously planned. The amount of skin contact when they were young, the degree to which they were allowed to form bonds with their caregiver and each other. The ways they were encouraged to cooperate and the ways they were encouraged to compete. All watched, monitored, assessed, and corrected when necessary. There was one lesson that was stressed more than any other. Would you like to know what it was?¡±


    I really should just log out. Still, I¡¯ve never heard this about Raven¡¯s generation before.


    ¡°Always wash your hands after -¡±


    ¡°It was to have one unbreakable connection. One true loyalty outside of one¡¯s self.¡±


    ¡°To the flock.¡± she deadpanned.


    ¡°You would think so, wouldn¡¯t you? But no. The voice that spoke to our lads and lasses from on high never specified. As the children in the creche matured, the lesson became more¡­ nuanced. ¡®Only you can know,¡¯ the voice would say, ¡®where you assign your bond. Keep it hidden from all others, perhaps especially its subject.¡¯


    Magpie shook her head. ¡°So, Uncle, I mean ¡®the voice¡¯ was running an experiment of some kind on you, just like he did with me.¡±


    ¡°I never said this was about me,¡± Raven said. ¡°For all you know, I was raised in the ¡®trust no one¡¯ creche. Or maybe I was a singleton like you. But it¡¯s interesting advice, don¡¯t you think? By having one bond, one unshakeable anchor, you gain power over all other connections in your life. Every question has a frame of reference, every dilemma has a context. Without such grounding, we are buffeted by the winds of human frailty and indecision, or we become self-obsessed and shallow.¡±


    Um¡­ maybe the story really isn¡¯t about him.


    ¡°And if your bond''s subject dies, or betrays you?¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the trick, isn¡¯t it? The voice told them they can¡¯t go around assigning their one true bond willy-nilly. You need to find a person or an organization that is worthy. Whose legacy can overcome death or dissolution, whose betrayal you can accept as fulfilling a greater purpose.¡±


    Got it. ¡°So, he was manipulating them back to the flock.¡± she said.


    Raven looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment. ¡°Possibly. There might have been a certain confidence that the freed birds would come back to the hand. But that¡¯s not the important part. I wanted to tell you this little story to give you some context for a question.¡±


    She thought she knew where this was going. ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°If you had been one of these children, raised with this lesson central in your life, would you already know where your true loyalty lies?¡± His eyes challenged her.


    No, of course not... she thought. Wait. This is a test isn¡¯t it?


    He stared at her, watching her face as if he was trying to peer into her mind. It was the most uncomfortable she had felt around Raven, which was¡­ astounding.


    She returned his stare, not challenging him, but trying to read him as he was reading her.


    Who are you? What are you beyond a source of irritation and torment in my life? What drives you to work for Uncle?


    A minute passed, and his features blurred, like when she stared at herself in the mirror for too long. Another minute passed, and she became aware of the blood pulsing through the veins of his eyes.


    His question kept passing through her thoughts. True loyalty. What does that even mean? There has only been the flock and everyone else. Am I supposed to say that I¡¯m loyal to them, to Uncle? Or am I supposed to know better than to reveal my loyalty? But it wouldn¡¯t really be my true loyalty, since I don¡¯t have one.


    Not even to myself. I would have to know who I am for that to be the case.


    After another minute, Raven broke the standoff. ¡°Alright then. Good. You pass.¡±


    Magpie opened her mouth without knowing what to say, but Raven preempted her.


    ¡°Go. Live your life. Come back when you¡¯ve figured it out.¡±


    What?


    ¡°I can tell by the look on your face that you¡¯re confused. That¡¯s normal. This wasn¡¯t just a test of your planning skills, or your subterfuge techniques, or your fighting ability. This was a test to confirm your capacity for loyalty. Loyal to the flock, loyal to your friends, it doesn¡¯t matter. You passed, so go, live your life. Come back to us if you want answers about who we are and what we do.¡±


    ¡°So, I¡¯m a freed bird?¡±


    Raven laughed. ¡°That¡¯s up to you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still an asshole.¡±


    He gave her a wink and faded away, smirking.


    She took a deep breath and logged out.


    ***


    Outside-Lilijoy became aware that something momentous had happened within the firewalled portion of her mind. The firewall kept her from knowing any specifics, but there was a certain amount of leakage in the area of unconscious processes and physical effects.


    She realized that her firewall was actually somewhat awful, and if not completely useless, certainly wouldn¡¯t have protected her against anyone who knew how her system worked. It was great at stopping information transfer between narrative streams of consciousness, but it had a fundamental flaw; her mind was not truly split. The various parts of her shared or alternated in using various parts of her neuroanatomy, and all of them drew on a shared pool of deeper processing. At the end of the day, her unconscious brain connected everything in a way she couldn¡¯t completely circumvent.


    She quickly gathered the part of her that had been running her Inside explorations. Mysterious ghost hands could wait while they sorted out what was going on. Once she focused her attention on Firewalled-Emily-memory-Lilijoy, she realized two things.


    First, that she was going to need a better way of referring to the different parts of her mind if things got any more complicated, and second, she needed better ways to communicate while firewalled. If some part of her was truly corrupted, and who knew, maybe it was, then it would be very easy for the corrupt version to talk her way out of any restraints.


    I can¡¯t protect myself perfectly from threats contained within the system. Not unless I develop the ability to create a perfectly isolated consciousness. And there wouldn¡¯t be any point in doing that. Where does prudence end and paranoia begin?


    It was the same hard question that seemed to plague her at every turn. At one end of a continuum was risk-avoidance and information gathering, while at the other end was bold action and ignorance. She had built elaborate risk matrices, beautiful multidimensional arenas where she could examine outcomes and occurrence probabilities weighed by estimated certainty, but still run into the same problem; such tools required a well-studied frame of reference. How could she assign a probability to the possibility she would lose her continuity of identity, passively or actively, by encountering more of Emily¡¯s memories?


    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.


    This was that higher-level fear Anda was talking about. And it was a mind-killer, a system of paralyzing self-reference that Shakespeare had understood so well when he wrote Hamlet¡¯s famous soliloquy. But it was the second soliloquy that spoke to her, warned her across time


    Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat


    In this distracted globe. Remember thee!


    Yea, from the table of my memory


    I''ll wipe away all trivial fond records,


    All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,


    That youth and observation copied there;


    And thy commandment all alone shall live


    Within the book and volume of my brain,


    She now had no doubt that the memories of Emily¡¯s ghost were every bit as dangerous to her future.


    Lesson number one from Hamlet: Don¡¯t listen to ghosts.


    To delete or not to delete?


    She could easily wipe away her firewalled self, safely reinter whatever it was that had caused the disturbance across her multiple minds. Behind that door was knowledge that would force her to redefine herself and question everything she thought she knew. That much she could tell from the leakage of emotion around her blockade. Whether there was any further danger, she couldn¡¯t tell.


    What if Hamlet had walked away? Bluebeard¡¯s wife could have called it a night. Eve could have had a banana.


    She considered the problem, and one last verse floated up to her.


    And enterprises of great pith and moment


    With this regard their currents turn awry,


    And lose the name of action


    She remembered her thoughts upon reading Anda¡¯s advice while she was talking to Jack...


    Imagine if I had thousands or even millions of perspectives to combine with all the knowledge I already possess. Is that what Guardian is doing?


    ...and realized that she did have thousands, millions of perspectives at her beck and call. The recorded wisdom of centuries of brilliant minds lurked in her memories. And it hardly mattered. Just as with both of her recent decisions to follow Anda¡¯s advice, it was up to her to sort the good counsel from the ill and make a decision. To make the cut through time and space that forever severed the other choices, to collapse the state vector of the arrayed possibilities.


    The highest level of fear came from that awareness.


    This thought led her to a new realization, one of those that was obvious from a certain perspective, but gained value with each higher level of discernment.


    Decisions come from emotion.


    A purely rational mind could never make a decision, would be trapped in inaction by unknown futures. In fact Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure it was possible for a conscious mind to exist at all without emotion, now that she considered it. Certainly one could construct the necessary feedback loops to create self awareness and narrative, but if such a construct had no drives or directives, why would it persist?


    Turns out that the semantics of emotion is kind of important. Drive, impulse, feeling, sentiment, mood; there seems to be a continuum between survival instincts and what Anda called logical emotions.


    She knew that categorizing and dissecting emotions and their associated biological states was well-traveled ground, though it reminded her a bit of physics and cosmology as a field. Many, many excellent theories, all grasping at some kind of underlying truth which no one could agree on. She didn¡¯t need to solve all the problems the great minds of the past had foundered upon at this moment though. She just needed to arrive at a better way to make decisions.


    On impulse, she brought the hovercar to a halt. They had just left the old rivercourse, so the ground was moist but not muddy when she hopped out. The sun was beginning to reveal itself on the horizon, a familiar blob of distorted red and brown bands. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind, finding peace in the exercise of her senses.


    The air was still and empty of the sounds of life. It almost smelled of home during the rainy season, when the molds and microorganisms were exalting in their simple appetites. The earth was partly covered in a pale carpet of some lowly plant she did not recognize from her internet memory.


    What I need is meaning, she thought. I need to know what I really want from all of this.


    Her mind was carried back to the Inside, to the Trial and her forest vow. Her surroundings couldn¡¯t be more different, but they contained wonders of their own. Even as she thought that, the air began to fill with tiny flying midges, first a few, then all at once, thousands of the little dipterans.


    Lilijoy pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth and watched as the swarm thickened. Swirls of emergent motion permeated the air as individual midges followed their own programs of sociability and isolation. All residual thoughts of existential crisis were driven from Lilijoy¡¯s head as she witnessed the spectacle of what was now millions of life forms dancing and weaving around each other. They were self-assembling into columns and when she looked up, she realized that she herself had become the focus for a dense cluster that extended far above her head.


    I¡¯m a landmark for mating midges!


    She moved slowly along the ground, to see how it would affect her new companions, and marveled at the way the nearly tornadic pillar traced her movement against the drab sky. It was amazing to her how such a large and coherent formation could emerge from simple behaviors.


    Simple behaviors. Emergent structure.


    She reached her left arm, her prosthetic, above her head and gently swept it through the dancing bodies until hundreds coated her palm. Then she released her Tao System satellites. The microscopic dust, almost like pollen, drifted around and onto the insects, and she sped her processing to follow the process of her flowers and vines connecting to dozens of minute nervous systems.


    I don¡¯t need to make my flowers fly on their own. I don¡¯t need to communicate with them from a distance. I only need to take what has been provided by millions of years of evolution and adapt it to my needs. And hope that it¡¯s not too windy.


    Within ten minutes, she had learned how to interface with the fly¡¯s neuroanatomy, thanks in part to some amazingly exhaustive work on fruit fly brains that had been posted online in the first half of the twenty-first century. After a few more minutes, she had learned how to program and expand the limited repertoire of swarming behaviors, and equipped each fly with a tiny antenna unit for propagating commands through the swarm.


    After an hour, the amazon wastes witnessed a scene new to the world, outside of some forgotten age of magic and miracles. A giant human figure danced slowly upon the landscape, its outline hazy, its, limbs churning, dissolving and reforming, trailing wisps like smoke as the farthest flung members of the new collective struggled and failed to keep up with the movements. Rippling signals propagated upward from the figure at it base, imitating her movement on a vastly larger scale.


    Who¡¯s the tiny dancer now, Nandi? Lilijoy thought.


    She looked over at the hovercar.


    I wonder how I¡¯m going to fit?

 Book 2.5: Chapter 16: Circumspect

    Anda is not going to be happy about this.


    The interior of the hovercar was a bit crowded compared to before. It seemed that midges had a certain maximum compressibility before bad things started to happen to their fragile little bodies. Lilijoy had about three million new little friends, which had used her entire stock of satellites. That had seemed like a lot, but was just a fraction compared to the vast quantity of unaugmented midges she had left behind. They were mostly males too, which wasn¡¯t ideal if she wanted to make more, but she was working on ways to make them a bit more robust, and hopefully live longer than another day or two.


    All together they weighed about thirty pounds, and currently covered every surface of the hovercraft interior, including Anda. All in all, it wasn¡¯t quite the practical solution she had initially envisioned, but she had decided to learn what she could. Perhaps she could find a way to create wholly artificial versions once she had studied these a bit more. She debated sending a message to warn Anda before he woke, but decided that the potential for amusement exceeded the amount of damage he would likely inflict if he flailed around.


    She giggled to herself, and settled back in anticipation of some world-class flailing.


    Guess I should find out if he¡¯s coming back anytime soon.


    She sent off a quick message.


    <hr>


    How¡¯s it going in there?


    Any luck finding him?


    <hr>


    The reply came quickly, and in an unexpected form.


    <hr>


    Voice contacted initiated by Anda Kukata Maasai


    Accept?


    <hr>


    ¡°Hey Anda, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this actually worked. We¡¯re probably the first people to communicate by voice between worlds!¡±


    It didn¡¯t seem like a particularly impressive feat to Lilijoy. After all, it was an entirely arbitrary limitation they were circumventing.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re Bell and Watson or something. Let¡¯s try virtual presence.¡±


    Soon they were facing one another across a table in a nondescript conference room. Anda looked like his Outside self, which was a bit disappointing.


    ¡°I know this isn¡¯t that amazing.¡± he said. ¡°But this is amazing! Any clan would kill to get their hands on this.¡±


    Lilijoy raised an eyebrow.


    Anda took in her expression. ¡°Right,¡± he said, with a mildly apologetic tone. ¡°I guess it¡¯s the least of it.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your Inside body doing right now?¡±


    ¡°Sitting on a bench in Academy town. It¡¯s nighttime at the moment, so not exactly a great time to look for Attaboy.¡±


    ¡°You should see if you can go in the Academy. It seems to me like you¡¯re a kind of honorary Insider, so maybe they¡¯ll let you look for him.¡±


    Anda sighed. ¡°I tried that earlier. Insiders may not recognize me as an Outsider, but wards do.¡±


    Well, this is just stupid.


    ¡°Okay. Let me know if anything changes.¡±


    She said goodbye and ended the communication.


    The emotions of anger and frustration were causing Lilijoy some¡­ difficulties. She could easily change her perception of them, or eliminate them entirely. At one point, she had gone so far as to create an ¡®anger¡¯ bar on her internal awareness, which showed her the anger she would be experiencing if her system wasn¡¯t diverting the signals from her biology. Of course, it wasn¡¯t nearly that simple.


    During the anger bar experiment, she had realized that her emotions partially relied on a feedback loop with her narrative consciousness. Anger as a steady-state did not exist. However, if she didn¡¯t interact with an emotion, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for a feedback loop to begin which took place outside of her conscious awareness, which then created the illusion of a stable emotional state, or mood. This meant there were really two entirely different modalities for altering her emotions; a narrative suppression which allowed the feedback loops to spin on their merry way, or a more surgical intervention which broke the communications within her organic components responsible for the loop.


    She had thought emotion control was a super power, and it was, but it was much more complex than simply deciding not to be angry. Or afraid. Her conversation with Anda and her subsequent thoughts on the matter had only added new layers, where the rational mental states that produced actions corresponding to biological emotions had to be accounted for as well.


    Her current situation was an excellent case in point. She had allowed the corner of her mind dedicated to Emily¡¯s memories to stew for several hours now, still indecisive about whether she should communicate with it or just delete it. Removing her biological anxiety led to a certain sense of clarity, but as she had discovered, it was emotions which ultimately fueled decisions. She could choose to elevate her sense of curiosity, which would be the same as deciding to take down the firewall. She could elevate her fear, and that would lead to a fear based outcome. The choice of how to handle her emotions became a proxy for making the actual decision before her, and brought her right around to where she started.


    Eliminating all emotions was essentially impossible, and useless besides that. She had tried it several times, but the net result was that it took away her reason for doing anything at all.


    I wonder exactly what Magpie was doing, she thought. She must have substituted some kind of goal based parameters that allowed her to act, and channeled her dampened emotions toward those. I suppose I could do the same, if I felt I understood enough to have a specific goal.


    Her general goals were clear enough. Acquire information about Guardian, the subsets and the Inside. Build a power base with the ultimate intention of replacing the Corp of Clans with a more equitable system. Restore at least a portion of Earth¡¯s ecosystem. They were grandiose goals, but all possible, she hoped. In truth the first two were in large part to allow the third. The two most likely impediments to her forest were Guardian and the clans. While she didn¡¯t know enough to guess how Guardian might fit in to her future, she was quite certain that the clans would become an even greater problem over time.


    Okay. Time to get specific. I need to understand myself, which means I need to understand all this garbage involving Emily and the Tao System, and my tribe. If there are dangers, they are more likely to arise from my ignorance or blind spots, like what happened in Averdale. I¡¯ve created a rational fear around Emily¡¯s memories, in part because I am worried that there is something about them that will cause me harm. An unknown unknown.


    Do I want to build my life around unknown unknowns?


    She knew the answer to that.


    ***


    Emily-Memory Lilijoy was getting tired of waiting for the rest of her to make a decision. She figured the odds were about even whether she would be contacted or deleted.


    Come on, me. You need to know this stuff.


    She had discovered a few more interesting tidbits over the past hours. Nothing quite so momentous as the fact that Henry Choi had taken up life as a primitive recluse who never spoke, but interesting nonetheless. The most obvious was a follow-on from Mooster¡¯s identity. Who else would be by his side but Gabriela? Evidently Atticus had heard her name as a toddler and begun to call her Grabby-ela. Lilijoy felt a little dumb, yet again, for not realizing that Henry and Gabriela had been by her side her entire life.


    Be fair, self. I would have figured it out earlier if his bio picture wasn¡¯t altered. Or someone else entirely.


    There was no way she would have recognized Gabriela as Grabby. Grabby¡¯s face was significantly scarred, far more than Mooster-Henry¡¯s.


    And now I have the mystery of the scars to solve. For them to be alive after all this time, they must have improved the Tao system to include medical remediation. Surely, they could fix their faces.


    It was more evidence that Henry and Gabriela, and the other bros too, were badly damaged mentally. Which begged the question: If they weren¡¯t able to repair themselves, or really do much beyond existing, then who was behind the whole situation with her and Attaboy? She supposed that it could have been arranged during lucid moments, which would explain the terribly inconsistent quality of their upbringing.


    A message arrived.


    <hr>


    All right, me.


    What¡¯s going on in there?


    p.s. please don¡¯t eat my/our brain.


    <hr>


    Finally!


    She composed a quick summary of what she had learned and sent it off. She felt the faint connection to her body resonate with her Outside self¡¯s reaction to the news a moment later.


    ***


    Outside of the firewall, Lilijoy read the message a fifth time, still trying to wrap her head around the revelations. She lingered over the last sentences.


    <hr>


    Recommend that you continue to explore Emily¡¯s memories.


    I¡¯ve added to Jiannu¡¯s log and marked the memories that


    contain the data supporting this message.


    Recommend that you erase me and start process again.


    Bye.


    <hr>


    It made her feel irrationally sad. The part of herself who wrote the message understood, naturally, that trust and confidence would be gained in steps, and it just made more sense for her to remove a few hours of that¡­ subset¡¯s memories and start again from her new knowledge base.


    It sure would be nice to be omniscient, she thought for a moment, then reconsidered. Actually, no. That would be like my reading problem, only a thousand times worse. I bet an omniscient being would long for the equivalent of the undiscovered library. Maybe they would even deliberately forget things, just so that they could experience the joy of discovery again.


    She spent several minutes trying to find an excuse to allow her firewalled self to rejoin her, and eventually it came. She needed to balance the risk, which at this point she considered to be minute, against the costs, which were subtle, to her anyway. The true cost was that she would never have the memory of the initial discovery, but she would always remember the choice to sacrifice those memories on the altar of caution.


    She wasn¡¯t quite sure that she was a warrior, not in the way Anda conceived of it, using the resistance of fear to strengthen her character, but she did know that she didn¡¯t want to be the opposite. She remembered a famous quote from Mark Twain, that she had first encountered while reading Heinlein.


    We should be careful to get out of an experience only the


    wisdom that is in it and stop there lest we be like the cat


    that sits down on a hot stove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot


    stove-lid again -- and that is well; but also she will never sit down


    on a cold one anymore.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    If Averdale was the hot stove-lid, is this decision the cold one?


    It seemed to her that a warrior might seek out stove-lids on principal, while she¡­ she seemed to have them show up in her life like some kind of delivery club.


    Stove-lid of the month club.


    She spent a few more minutes on some basic precautions, and then took down the firewall.


    ***


    The hovercar rested on the barren land, just over the horizon from the factory-mine. If it were night, the sullen clouds would be capturing its light and spreading a muted glow overhead. As it was close to noon, the only way Lilijoy could sense its presence was from the rhythmic rumble captured in the earth at her feet, a sensation that reminded her of her Earthen Sense ability.


    She sampled the air and marveled at the toxic stew of mildly mutagenic compounds and radiation. The quantum circuitry of her Stage Two components was acting like a built in Geiger counter as the ionizing radiation of the environment interfered with its operation.


    The more radiation there is, the dumber I get. Maybe that¡¯s part of the problem with the Tao zombies. Are they too damaged to even notice? You¡¯d think that they would have moved away from all this at some point in the last hundred years.


    She had left her midges safely tucked away in the hovercar, as the wind was picking up. Her mind drifted to several science-fiction novels that featured utility fog, airborne hordes of nano-scale constructors that could shape external reality with a thought.


    Funny that they never consider what wind might do to tiny floating particles. Never mind the waste heat.


    Still, she felt that she had taken steps in that direction with her midges.


    Now I just need to hope that my enemies don¡¯t bring any fans.


    She felt that the last few hours of the journey were quite productive. After she had released the firewall and integrated her mind, she had split herself to her limit and dived into Emily¡¯s memories with abandon, though she was careful to keep her level of immersion low. Having viewed hundreds of hours of young Emily¡¯s life without any ill effects, she was now entirely confident that it was the deeper immersion levels that carried the risk of identity dilution.


    It was a very real danger, too, she decided. The amount of time she could have spent as Emily would have had a significant impact on her personality. She judged that if she had encountered this many memories before her system had reached Stage Two, her primary continuity would be as Emily, with her life in the Piles becoming a foggy interlude.


    It made her worried about Attaboy.


    If the purpose of all of this was to bring the Choi children back to life, in a sense anyway, it could very well have succeeded. May have succeeded with at least one of them.


    Reincarnation lite. What will I do if Attaboy is Atticus with just a smidge of Attaboy left?


    It was an.. interesting question. Dispassionately, she felt that she needn¡¯t be too upset. Attaboy hadn¡¯t died; his memories would still be there. He would recognize her, and they could trade tales from their childhood. Yet, she had certainly gone to great lengths to preserve her own identity and protect herself from Emily, so it was a bit difficult to reconcile why she could accept it if that had happened to Attaboy.


    She shook her head to dislodge the speculations. As she did, she felt a faint signal from the subroutine she had left running to monitor her Inside body. Someone was speaking in her presence.


    She pulled up the text on her awareness. It appeared to be a conversation that had been going for a minute already. The text window identified two male voices.


    <hr>


    1 <Where¡¯s this one going?>


    2 <Topside.>


    1 <Crap. In the dark?>


    2 <Orders.>


    1 <Least it¡¯s a small one.>


    1 <Toss that over.>


    2 <This place needs an elevator.>


    <hr>


    At this point, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t resist extending herself further into her Inside senses, though she kept the voice-to-text filter going. She could hear sounds, clanking and rubbing which, based on the context of the conversation, she thought might be ropes or a harness of some kind being attached to her stone enclosure. The ambient noise was enough for her to gather a very rough image of her surroundings, though the stone over her ears blocked out most of the detail.


    It was at this point that she realized she was being a bit stupid. If her hands were free, she might have smacked her forehead. She activated her Earthen Sense. Her entire body was encased in solid stone, so it could only help.


    Sure enough, the vibrations from the surrounding air and the ground were transmitted through the stone just enough for her to fill in many of the details. She could see the two moving blobs attaching some kind of harness around her block of stone. She now understood that the stone extended out from her for at least six inches in every direction, forming a rough coffin shape, with only a single hole for her to breathe located over her nose. She was currently on her back, and just behind her head was a huge wall that stretched upwards, far past any echo¡¯s ability to return to her. Everything else around her was open space, as far as she could tell.


    She could smell two men, wearing leather and body odor, but their smell was insignificant next to the powerful scent of Averdale carried by the night air.


    Definitely outside. Next to the trunk of the Greatwood. Guess I¡¯m about to go for a ride.


    It was a few more minutes before she felt herself begin to lift into the air.


    Bet the view would be great. I wonder why they would take me up? I doubt it¡¯s so I can enjoy the fresh air.


    The ascent was fairly steady, a few feet a second, and she could tell she was about twenty feet away from the trunk. The night breezes began to catch at her stone coffin, and she felt herself begin to sway and spin.


    Wouldn¡¯t it be great if they dropped me? I wonder how far up I¡¯m going?


    The Bough of Burdens was about a hundred meters up, followed by the Bough of Life and then the Bough of Peace. The Bough of Peace had been severely damaged when the Top fell, though a portion remained, jutting out about fifty meters below the highest point of what remained of the main trunk. Over the next minutes she tracked her progress past the Boughs of Burdens and Life.


    Guess I¡¯m headed for Peace then. Maybe I¡¯m going to join the display.


    Sinaloa liked to keep a select group of their captives in the large hollow at the top of the stump, using them to taunt and warn the Insiders who might fly over. It was an overt cruelty with a tactical purpose, an irresistible lure for any aerial attack. Lilijoy had attempted to remain as innocent as possible of what transpired in the open air torture arena, though she knew it couldn¡¯t be good. She did know that most of the imprisoned were Insiders, some who had been there since just after the Sacking itself.


    A hundred years of torture. I wonder how long it took for them to gain the Fortitude ability.


    She knew that several had escaped over the years, due to overenthusiastic tortures, or heroic rescues, though those had ceased long ago, as Sinaloa refined their methods and increased their security measures. She had heard that the freed prisoners were forever changed in some way, something so dark and horrible that organized rescue attempts had eventually been abandoned. No Insider who knew anything about the subject had ever spoken about it, but Lilijoy could guess, based on what she had already learned.


    What would happen to an Insider who learned to cultivate pain and suffering? Who formed the new core of their being over decades around the worst acts that intelligent beings can perpetrate on one another?


    It was a disturbing thought. She could only hope that such beings could find healing over time, or, barring that, could be safely sequestered, preferably in Purgatory. She wondered if Guardian found equal value in such dark emotions, if Sinaloa¡¯s presence was even useful on some level. That would certainly explain why the higher-tiered subsets had never taken action.


    She felt her stone coffin stop, felt herself swing sideways through the air and lower onto a solid surface. Her system was working overtime, and Lilijoy knew that she would be terrified if it wasn¡¯t for the constant rebalancing and intervention of her emotional stabilizers. She wasn¡¯t really worried about anything that might happen to her though. It was more that she feared the unknown terrors that she would be exposed to. Scenes of horrific suffering could be safely imagined, but to confront what might be all around her, to see it happen before her eyes¡­


    I¡¯m too young for this. I should log out.


    But she didn¡¯t log out. Couldn¡¯t bring herself to abandon the suffering beings she imagined all around her. Someday, there would be a reckoning, Outside or Inside; she would destroy Sinaloa as a clan, convert or control its members, free herself and those around her. She wanted to know what evil looked like, wanted to face it in its den and spit in its eye.


    She felt the stone around her face loosen and flow.


    She saw the moons hanging in the sky above, filling her narrow view to bursting.


    Khonsu and Sin, she remembered. Khonsu is the green one, Sin the blue. Named after the Egyptian and Akkadian moon gods respectively.


    A head eclipsed her view. Hairless and features cast in shadow, it was like a third moon had risen. She saw his lips moving, and read on her screen.


    <You¡¯re actually here. How unusual. Please stay.>


    She chose not to reply, but adjusted her vision to bring his features into focus, while blurring his lips from conscious sight. There was no need to risk whether Charm could somehow be conveyed through lip reading. It was a face she knew well, though one she had never thought to see in person. Lately it seemed as if history had decided to take a stroll through her life. First Henry and Gabriella Choi, now Alfonse Quimea.


    He was wearing a simple Roman diadem, a gold band with a single pink stone at the center of his forehead. She could almost see a corona of Mana tendrils waving around the stone¡¯s edges.


    That can¡¯t be good. He¡¯s been Inside for over a century, so even if he¡¯s compressed to level fifty he¡¯s way, way out of my league. I¡¯m going to go ahead and assume he¡¯s a Charm master, wearing some kind of amplifier.


    She let her Outside self know to be on the highest alert. Now was her chance to find out what they might want from her.


    More words appeared on her screen.


    Well, at least he¡¯s polite. Should I say something? What would someone who¡¯s charmed do?


    She allowed her face to relax and assume a neutral expression.


    <Very good. Now, I¡¯m sure you have questions for me. I will be happy to answer them, and I¡¯m certain you will find my answers entirely reasonable.>


    What a diabolical way to begin an interrogation. Now what to ask? I need to find questions that will meet his expectations while feeding him disinformation and also reveal whether he is answering with some degree of truth.


    Thankfully, she had plenty of time to think.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    It was a bit odd to have her own voice filtered out. She could feel herself making the words, and watch them show up on her screen.


    <My name is Doctor Quimea. I have the authority to decide what happens within Averdale.>


    So far, so good.


    ¡°How did you catch us? Did you know we were coming?¡±


    <Ha. We have had our eyes on you for some time now as a potential recruit. With Trial results like yours, I¡¯m sure many clans do. It probably would have been easier for you to simply ask for the information you desired.>


    Okay. That seems way too reasonable. No wonder this guy was able to talk his way into Elven society. Am I being charmed despite all the precautions? Time to get more direct.


    ¡°What do you want from me?¡±


    <Well, that depends. We understand that you have much to offer, both here and Outside. As yet, we have not provided you with any compelling reason to join our cause. If you don¡¯t mind, allow me to return your question. What would you want from us?>


    Here we go. If I was under his influence, what would I say? He might expect me to ask about Attaboy. Except I know that Attaboy has either escaped or joined them. Best would be to delay until I know which. I could ask to go free¡­ that might get an interesting response. I wonder why he hasn¡¯t used his Charm overtly by this point. If I was in any way normal, he should be able to directly ask where I am Outside, or something of that nature.


    It occurred to her that she was dealing with someone who had exercised caution and extreme rationality for the equivalent of several lifetimes. He was leaving every option open, while slowly maneuvering himself into a position of control. There wasn¡¯t any reason for him to press, or to rush. He knew he was dealing with unknown unknowns, and wasn¡¯t making any assumptions. If she hadn¡¯t seen his true self revealed in the memories of Carodil Everbough, if she knew just a little less about Sinaloa, he wouldn¡¯t even need Charm to manipulate her exactly as he desired. Maybe she was flattering herself to assume that much.


    This is an extremely dangerous person. Anything I think I can learn from him will be tainted by the doubt that it was exactly what he wanted me to learn. He may know, or suspect, far more about the Tao System than I thought.


    Once again, her thoughts turned to logging out, to simply ending this conversation before she got in over her head. She decided to try one last thing.


    ¡°Please, get me out of this stone.¡±


    Now we¡¯ll see if you really trust your Charm.


    A mildly distressed look crossed his face.


    <That is a reasonable request, though I¡¯m sure we both understand it is a bit premature. I feel like I¡¯ve earned the right to a reasonable conversation, and I fear you will remove yourself before I¡¯ve had a chance to make my case. If you come back tomorrow at sunrise, I would find myself much more inclined to believe that such a measure would be possible.>


    He just gave me the thing I wanted, but didn¡¯t ask for. Time. The most useless amount of time possible, because there¡¯s no way Anda can get in touch with Attaboy by then. What does he get out of it? Is he trying to check if his Charm has some kind of persistence, or to calibrate my state of mind in some way? Sunrise is only five hours away, just a bit before sunset Outside.


    It seemed arbitrary to her. Arbitrary enough to activate a feeling of creeping paranoia.


    The real prize for him is my Outside body. If they know my location, or think they do, they may need more time to get their forces into position. What if the obvious trap of a false location for Attaboy was only the top layer? Below that could be another trap. What if they know about the Piles?


    It had certainly crossed her mind before. Attaboy had been in their clutches for quite a while; who could say what intelligence they had pried out of him? It wouldn¡¯t be hard for them to ascertain the location of the tribe, with an anomalous factory-mine so close at hand. She had even asked Anda about the possibility.


    ¡°The factory-mines are neutral territory, enforced by the Corp. That was part of my job there.¡± he had explained. ¡°Your tribe falls within that radius. Plus, the general area is claimed by Lone Star. Even if Sinaloa knew, it¡¯s unlikely they would do anything about it. Nothing overt anyway.¡±


    That had reassured her when Sinaloa was a faceless organization, yet another clan, albeit a nasty one. Doctor Quimea¡¯s presence changed everything. One hundred years ago he was already a mastermind. An entire century had passed for him to upgrade and augment himself, to gain even more knowledge and experience.


    Oh crap. If someone like that is hunting me, everything changes.


    She logged out without saying another word, and returned to a body already running for the hovercar.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 17: Fishing

    Lilijoy sent a message to Anda asking him to log out, even as she piloted the craft in a vaguely north-east direction away from the factory-mine and her tribe. She knew that some of the clans had access to satellites, typically those from well before Guardian¡¯s rise to power, as they had no computer systems worth consuming. There were also plenty of other techniques for ground surveillance, everything from balloons to stealth drones. Lone Star prided themselves on their air superiority, so she wasn¡¯t incredibly worried that Sinaloa was tracking her directly, but she certainly couldn¡¯t rule it out.


    Out of caution, she was acting with the assumption that Sinaloa had seen her in New Manaus and probably knew when she left and her direction of travel. Originally, that hadn¡¯t worried her much, as there was no way for them to intercept her in a timely manner without running afoul of Lone Star¡¯s interceptors. That all changed if they had previously established a covert presence somewhere nearby.


    She wasn¡¯t running away, but she was very interested in finding a secure location from which to reconnoiter the situation.


    How else would they track me? Perhaps plant a device on the hovercar? Am I being paranoid?


    It was one thing to risk her Inside self, but Lilijoy had no intention of falling into any more traps. It was also much easier to change plans when there was only herself and Anda involved, and no particular time pressure.


    I wonder if they tried to mess with the tribe? They might get more than they bargained for if they did.


    An image of Pinton making Sinaloa operatives run laps crossed through her mind, and she couldn¡¯t suppress a laugh.


    "What¡¯s so funny?¡± came Anda¡¯s voice, followed by, ¡°Why are there bugs in here?¡± which was followed by a hilarious hopping dance from the tall Maasai warrior as he tried to brush away the thousands of midges that had been basking on his warm body. The interior of the hovercar didn¡¯t have quite enough room to accommodate his full height, so after the first time he banged his head he adopted a kind of hunched shuffle while waving his arms frantically.


    Needless to say, this disrupted the midges, and soon the interior of the hovercar was thick with the tiny flies. Lilijoy kindly arranged for none of them to go in Anda¡¯s mouth or nose while she curled up in hysterics on the floor.


    Yup. World class.


    A few minutes later, when the midges were settled down and Anda had regained what dignity he could, Lilijoy explained the additional passengers, and the more problematic possibility of a Sinaloa ambush at the Piles.


    ¡°...and let me just stop you before you start explaining how it¡¯s just me overthinking things,¡± she said when he tried to cut in. She ignored the surprised expression on his face and continued. ¡°I want to do this my way, and if it all turns out to be for nothing, it will still be good training.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Anda said, ¡°I can¡¯t see any reason not to be cautious. The only information you don¡¯t have is just how bad it would be for Sinaloa if they got caught violating Corp neutral territory. They¡¯ve been on a kind of probationary status for years. It could spell the end of their clan if they step too far over the line. They have plenty of enemies who would love to find an excuse to destroy them, even a relatively feeble one.¡±


    That did make Lilijoy feel a bit better, as it lowered the odds that Sinaloa had swept up or otherwise disturbed her tribe.


    ¡°Exactly how far does the area around the factory-mine extend?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Ten kilometers, though it¡¯s not like there are any markers.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a big perimeter,¡± she noted. ¡°So if we circle around and approach from a different direction, it¡¯s unlikely they could intercept us.¡±


    ¡°Assuming they can¡¯t track us in real time. If we take the worst case scenario, then they might be able to maneuver quickly enough at ground level. There¡¯s no reason they can¡¯t cross the neutral area, if they¡¯re polite about it.¡±


    ¡°Great. I hope we¡¯re doing all this for nothing.¡±


    After a few minutes, she was able to find a small ravine, long dry, that would protect them from the wind. She piloted the hovercar to a stop and released the midges to form a cloud around it. While she waited for the insects to assemble, she checked her status. She didn¡¯t really need to, but it was on the way to checking on her midges. Besides it was a nice way to center herself.


    <table width="367" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>


    STATUS: Disciple, First Circle


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353" height="160">


    Stage One


    Nanobody count: 5,182,228


    Integration: 97%


    Stage Two


    Replication Units: 417


    FLOPS Equivalent: 10^17.1


    Integration: 70%


    Secondary/Support: 4 identified


    Communications: Stealth Mode


    Sensors: Passive


    RE Reserves: 0


    Personal Quantification: Ranking Display


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353">


    Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    At this point, she had complete control over what the status showed, but she had tried to integrate as much as possible from the automated systems she had inherited from Emily. That included the somewhat enigmatic ranking system associated with the system as a whole. She could only assume that it had been meaningful in the context of a community of Tao System users surrounded by external support structures and data tools.


    Isolated as she was, she couldn¡¯t guess whether it was supposed to reflect one¡¯s position in a command structure, a security clearance level, or something else entirely. The formula for determining the rank was complicated to an extent that Lilijoy hadn¡¯t bothered to predict when she might hit the next threshold, that, and she enjoyed the feeling of surprise when her system decided she merited a new title.


    Disciple, First Circle. I wonder if that will ever mean anything? Maybe someday I¡¯ll try to find out if there is some lost repository of Tao System data hiding somewhere. It¡¯s probably buried under a mile of ice, if there even is such a thing any more though. I suppose I could look for the place where Emily lived in Brazil as a starting point.


    She continued to assess her various projects and support systems. Along with the satellites, now midges, she had mostly been focused on rebuilding her Rank Five skin bugs into the scaled approach that Anda had given her. That hadn¡¯t required a huge amount of new cultivation, just attention, so during the long trip with Anda, she had worked on it while Jiannu worked on making satellite units. Her skin system was still far from complete, but now she didn¡¯t need to worry about the stiffness and lack of flexibility she had encountered before.


    And now to the midges.


    She was pleased to note that the attrition from their journey, and Anda¡¯s flailing, was only about a hundredth of the creatures. She ordered them to maintain an equal distance from each other while getting as close to the craft as possible, and the result was a thin layer of midges flying just off the surface of the vehicle. Lilijoy felt a little disappointed that it wasn¡¯t more of a vast cloud surrounding vehicle, but the math checked out.


    About three million midges, over about half a million square centimeters. Still should be enough for my purposes.


    She started scanning through the midges for anything emanating from the craft. Any tracking device wouldn¡¯t be so blatant as to constantly emit a signal, but her midges would happily fly over the same spot for hours. It was what they were best at, in fact. Whether a tracking device was active or passive, she was pretty sure that an hour or two would be enough to confirm its presence.


    To kill time while she waited to catch a signal that probably didn¡¯t exist, she experimented on a small group of midges she had reserved. She was a little handicapped by the lack of rare earths, but it wasn¡¯t hard to pry out a small amount from the vast network of structures in her brain. The vast majority of her swarm had only the most minimal Tao System components, just enough to co-opt their instinctive behaviors. A few thousand had a more extensive network of Stage One flowers permeating their tiny brains, enough so that she could control their movements more directly, and receive some simple sensory information from them.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    She was still experimenting with exactly how that might work for her; it wasn¡¯t obvious how to convert their neural signals into something she could interpret with her own senses. She had played around a bit, learning how basic visual elements like light and darkness manifested in the signals she was receiving from the tiny flies, and how they detected shape and movement.


    I wish I¡¯d started with mammals. Rats would be good. I bet their visual systems have much more in common with mine. After all this, I¡¯ll have to visit Old Manaus and collect the local population.


    Still, midges was where she had started, so she resolved to keep working on the problem in front of her. She carefully built a parallel nervous system in one of her little friends, matching it neuron by neuron, connection by connection. It wasn¡¯t overly difficult work, as it made use of her system¡¯s hardwired abilities to mimic neural structures, and the midges had very few neurons to begin with, just over a hundred thousand total.


    Still, there was certainly a bit of a learning curve adapting to a different set of neurochemicals, and the decidedly non-human configurations. If it weren¡¯t for the extensive documentation of fruit fly brains available online, it might have taken her days, or even weeks, but as it was, she had a working Tao Fly after a couple of hours. It behaved exactly like a normal midge, which was only a triumph due to the fact that she had disconnected its original nervous system entirely.


    It¡¯s a shame these aren¡¯t the biting kind, she mused. That would make the next stage of this so much easier.


    The practical utility of her swarm had never been her main interest. She had been thinking of them more as vectors by which she could introduce Tao System elements into enemies and thereby interfere with their systems. As long as she had a certain density of midges between her and her enemy, she should be able to actively control her own satellites as they made their way into her opponent¡¯s brain, while she stayed at a reasonable distance. She still had no idea what she might be able to do with that ability, beyond what she had done to Mo, but she hoped that eventually she would be able to do more than simple sabotage.


    The problem now was how to deliver the payload. Midges had carbon dioxide receptors in their antennae, so her working plan was to send them into her opponent¡¯s airways when possible. Skin contact could work, possibly, but it would take a long time and be quite wasteful, something that might work outside of a combat situation.


    At the moment, she didn¡¯t have any extra satellites anyway. They were all being used to control the midges, and she didn¡¯t have the rare earths to make more.


    A message from Anda arrived.


    <hr>


    I¡¯m assuming you haven¡¯t found a transmitter?


    How about I take the car, and check things out.


    They probably won¡¯t be looking for me, and there¡¯s


    no danger if the car is clean.


    <hr>


    Anda had been cultivating in the hovercar while she played with the flies. She made her way over and opened the spiral hatch.


    ¡°That sounds like a good idea. Maybe you can bring back some chunks from the Piles so I can prepare a little,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah, I figured I would drop by the factory-mine," he replied. "I messaged someone I know who¡¯s still there, and they haven¡¯t seen anything out of the ordinary, but it¡¯s not like they keep a particularly close eye on the area. There are automated systems for that. The troubleshooters are there to respond to unexpected visitors and other anomalies, but really, for most of them, it¡¯s just a chance to earn a few credits for getting away from their troubles.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll find some shelter around here. Stay in touch, and try to be back before sundown. I want to go back Inside, and I¡¯d rather have you here when I do.¡±


    Anda looked skeptical. ¡°You think that¡¯s a good idea? Quimea really got in your head last time. It might make more sense to give up on the Inside for a while and see what you can coordinate out here.¡±


    ¡°I want to try again. He may suspect that my Charm resistance is much higher than it should be, but I don¡¯t know that for sure. Maybe I can make something happen.¡±


    Mostly, she was just intensely curious about Nandi¡¯s Boon, and didn¡¯t really want to wait weeks or months to find out what it was. There were also a couple of half-formed ideas floating around in her head that she wanted to try if she got a chance. That reminded her¡­


    ¡°Anda, can they tell whether I¡¯m logged in or not?¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re looking very carefully. Your logged out body still has the most basic signs of life, as if you were in a coma. It¡¯s pretty tricky not to betray some hint of animation beyond that. If they still have you encased in stone, then they would never know.¡±


    Good. I can go back in and experiment some more before anyone bothers me. Who knows if they¡¯ll bother anyway. I did leave pretty abruptly.


    After some basic contingency planning, Anda drove off in a midge free hovercar. The factory-mine wasn¡¯t more than an hour away, so if everything went to plan, he should be back in time to be there if she was talking to the Doctor. Even though she could effectively split her consciousness to be both Inside and Outside, she would need to make use of her motor circuits to talk. Either that or talk on the Outside and pass the signals through. Either way, she didn¡¯t like the idea of being somewhat compromised and alone in the wastes as the sun was setting.


    That was when the predators came out, after all.


    ***


    A few minutes walk down the dry ravine she found a small hollow in which to shelter, where water had once run freely and eroded the earth from under a rocky outcrop. Lilijoy could almost imagine the place as it once had been, shaded by enormous trees, covered by thick vines and creepers that fell to the rushing waters of the stream. Her shelter had probably been a deep pool, populated by some kind of exotic fish or frog that had never been seen by modern humans.


    Now the ground beneath her was hard and cracked. She could still see the remains of ancient roots that had made their way under the stone and into the hollow, the last vestiges of the jungles that had burned so many years before. At least the radiation levels weren¡¯t bad, with only a rare crackle in her consciousness as some particle carried in during a windy season dust storm decayed.


    She settled her back against the stone and began her cautious login process. As before, there were no issues with her bodily integrity, and her senses were muted and covered. Clearly, the stone covering her head had been replaced.


    In many ways, this was a relief, as she wouldn¡¯t need to hide her facial expressions. Since she was still using the same motor circuits for both bodies, it would have been annoying to remain utterly still on the Outside.


    Now, where was I?


    Before she had pulled herself away to focus on the issue of Emily, she had been able to activate Nandi¡¯s Boon and cover her hand and wrist in diamond mana. That had somehow made her hand able to pass through the stone, or more likely, brought her hand to some place else entirely. She had been very careful to return her hand to the same position it had occupied within the stone before she withdrew the mana, since she didn¡¯t know what the possible consequences would be if her hand returned from... elsewhere into solid stone.


    Since then, it had occurred to her that what would be a bad idea in normal circumstances might be the very thing she needed. If her hand exploded, or detached, or otherwise became injured, it might be a ticket to respawn. She got a chuckle out of imagining what her captor¡¯s reaction would be if she were to pull that off.


    Unfortunately, it was not to be. Her hand assumed the position it was in before the mana activated the boon as soon as the mana was withdrawn.


    Her next experiment was to see whether she could convince the boon to extend further down her arm. As before, any excess mana she sent flowed off her glowing hand and back into her mana channels rather than causing any change. She tried to manipulate the mana in the glove directly, and while she was able to pull out a single strand of white iridescence, it didn¡¯t seem to change the size or any other characteristic of the glowing gauntlet. Still, it was something new.


    Now what can I do with a single thread?


    To her internal mana sight, it looked much like she was wearing a glove that had started to unravel. When she mentally pulled on the thread, it stretched out farther and farther. Thankfully, unlike a real woven glove, it didn¡¯t seem as if pulling on the strand of mana caused the rest of the glove to fray or otherwise fall apart. Soon, she had pulled out several feet of mana as thin as spider silk. It seemed to originate from the cuff area, but she found it wasn¡¯t hard to move it around to start from the end of her index finger.


    She entertained herself for a minute by wiggling her hand and finger in circles, causing the mana silk to spiral and flow in graceful curves.


    So now what? she wondered, as the entertainment value of the activity waned. Is it a magic finger whip? Do I fish with it? I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d want to find out what I could catch. Also, I don¡¯t have a hook.


    The thought of catching things gave her another idea. She was no master weaver like Mr. Sennit, but she knew a thing or two about string and knots. After a great deal of frustration, she was able to gain enough control over the thread to tie a simple loop on the end using a bowline knot.


    There! Now lets see if there¡¯s anything else in here with my hand.


    She wasn¡¯t expecting much, as her working theory was that her hand was crossing over to some kind of between space. She had read enough fantasy to know that many kinds of movement skills relied on a parallel dimension, often full of shadows or something of that nature.


    So she was quite surprised when her loop snagged on something after only a few casts. She couldn¡¯t pull on it with her arm, but she could reabsorb the mana carefully into the glove and thus reel it in. Her mana sight didn¡¯t allow her to see what she was pulling in, so it wasn¡¯t until the loop reached her hand and she was able to grasp the item that she had any idea what treasure she had pulled from the great beyond.


    Whatever it was, she could only feel it. At first she thought it might be a broken stick, or a small bundle of the same, but as she manipulated it through her fingers, she realized that the sticks were tied together, and that they had flared ends. Not very much like sticks, more like¡­ bones. It seemed oddly familiar, but it wasn¡¯t until she thought to use Scan that it all fell into place.


    <hr>


    Finger Bone Necklace (Goblin)


    fashioned by a Novice Jeweler


    <hr>


    This isn¡¯t some random item. This is mine. I wore it once.


    A memory of the final hours at Fort Groveship passed through her mind. The smoke, the soot. Her goblin disguise.


    In the Trial.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 18: Insight

    ¡°So then I used Scan, and guess what it was?¡± Lilijoy couldn¡¯t contain the excitement in her voice.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t begin to imagine,¡± Anda replied. His tone was dry, but she could hear his interest.


    After a few more casts of her crude mana loop came up empty, she couldn¡¯t resist contacting him as he drove to the factory-mine.


    ¡°It was a goblin bone necklace. But that¡¯s not the important thing.¡±


    There was silence on the other end. Eventually he gave in.


    ¡°Do tell.¡±


    ¡°It was the one I was wearing at the end of my Trial! Do you know what this could mean?¡±


    ¡°A lifetime supply of goblin bone jewelry?¡±


    ¡°Very funny. It means that my hand went to the Trial space. It makes perfect sense if you think about it. Nandi is the gatekeeper, so his boon connects me to his realm. Have you ever heard of anything like that?¡±


    ¡°Not even remotely. Do you think you can bring things back?¡±


    ¡°I sure hope so. It would be pretty silly if it was just a gauntlet of inter-dimensional fondling.¡±


    There was a choking sound on the other end of the communication.


    ¡°Uh¡­ never mind,¡± Anda managed. ¡°I guess I should have asked, what happened when you tried to bring it back?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t. It slipped out of my fingers when I released the mana. I¡¯m pretty sure that ¡®encased in stone¡¯ isn¡¯t a standard use case though.¡±


    She had been hoping for some explosion-type excitement when two objects tried to occupy the same space, but it seemed that finding a way to respawn with the boon was a dead end.


    ¡°What else have you tried?¡±


    ¡°I spent a few more minutes throwing my loop around. I thought I might have snagged on something once or twice, but I never caught anything.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. So do you think that your hand is somehow rejoining the Trial as you left it? Or is it more like an inventory, with all the items you gathered lying around in empty space?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I think. It¡¯s really frustrating not to be able to see anything, or move any other parts of my body. When my Trial ended, I was under a thorn bush, so that could have been what I kept snagging on. I can¡¯t wait until I can actually experiment!¡±


    ¡°And I can¡¯t wait to hear what you do next. I¡¯ve got eyes on the factory-mine, so I should pay attention. Do you want me to patch you in?¡±


    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s a great idea.¡±


    Soon, a new signal came to her, a feed from Anda¡¯s visual cortex. He had rendered the hovercar canopy clear, and was looking out over the wastes at the front side of the factory-mine, where its widest edge chewed and broke the earth before it, a vast band of consumption hundreds of meters across. There were no obvious moving parts to the enormous maw; Anda had explained that the factory-mine used a combination of vibration and massive weights that slowly raised and then slammed down to force its way through rock and soil a millimeter at a time. It was, evidently, amazingly efficient, and also agonizingly slow, the kind of process that would never have been designed by a being with a human sense of time. A race between a glacier and a factory-mine would be neck and neck.


    What happened once the material passed beyond the metal threshold was entirely unknown to her, but what came out the other end was all too familiar. She could see the line of waste stretching to the horizon. Except it wasn¡¯t entirely waste. In fact, Lilijoy suspected it was the reason for the giant crawler¡¯s existence. Millions of tons of feedstock for Tao System elements.


    Someday, Guardian is going to use all that for something, and I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s not paperclips. It¡¯s way more than a million, a billion Tao Systems would use.


    She had kept that particular theory to herself. Perhaps someday she would find out if the other factory-mines were doing the same. Then she would know if it was related to her tribe, the small group of Tao System users that conveniently happened to be next to this particular stream of waste. Either way, it was ridiculously disproportionate to their needs. Like tossing a thousand silos worth of grain in front of the local chicken coop. It spoke to the connection between Guardian and the Tao System. Between Guardian and the Chois. Between Guardian and her.


    She had hoped to find some kind of clue in Emily¡¯s memories, some reference to what Henry Choi was doing all those months he spent away from home. So far there was nothing. But she was so close to answers, real answers, that she could taste it. If she didn¡¯t get the information from her tribe, she was almost certain that Attaboy could fill in many of the blanks in her understanding. Or would it be Atticus?


    Either way, the answers were coming.


    She watched as Anda looped around the factory-mine and pulled up alongside the Piles just a few hundred meters behind it. The columns of vitrified material were still fresh this close to the sprawling mechanical beast, closely packed dull-black columns that had yet to be broken down by the elements. They weren¡¯t completely regular in size and shape, trending toward dull octagonal pillars roughly ten feet in height, though the columns at the edges were somewhat shorter and already showing signs of cracks and wear. They reminded Lilijoy more than anything of columnar basalt, albeit much more glassy and brittle. She knew that over the coming years, the columns would crack and fall upon one another, eventually becoming mounds of black glassy shards spread over a much wider area, like the area of the Piles she had grown up with.


    The Piles at this point were by no means pure however. The organic waste and sewage of those who lived within the factory-mine was liberally strewn among the columns.


    Guess they don¡¯t see a problem adding garbage to garbage. But they didn¡¯t have to live down-wind from it.


    She watched as Anda broke off a few good -sized chunks from the outer columns and carefully placed them into the hovercar.


    ¡°I¡¯m already getting some notifications about environmental resources being detected,¡± he said. ¡°I just hope we don¡¯t have to ingest this stuff.¡±


    ¡°I bet that powdering it and snorting would be the most efficient,¡± she replied.


    She thought she heard him gag a little. ¡°You¡¯re not smelling what I am. Would you like me to patch that through too?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all right. Just hurry back.¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to swing by your tribe?¡±


    She was tempted by the offer. It would be good to know what was happening at Night¡¯s Safety before she went there in person. She said as much.


    ¡°Tempting. But I have another idea for scouting that out, once I¡¯ve refueled. I¡¯d rather not deal with any complications before then.¡±


    Such as you being attacked, if Sinaloa is waiting in ambush, she thought. Or me being distracted by who-knows-what piece of additional knowledge. I don¡¯t need more thoughts and experiences I can¡¯t do anything about whirling around in my head right before I go back in to Averdale.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    For some reason, this made her think of the spinning core in her soul space. It was another of the persistent mystery-projects in her life, one which she had kept at arms length, mentally speaking. In her mind, there was an unspoken agreement between her and her soul space. She would leave it alone for a good long while to spin in peace, doing its thing, whatever that was. In turn, it wouldn¡¯t rend, blend, or otherwise disarticulate her very being in an overtly traumatic manner.


    It seemed reasonable to her.


    Still, the image of new concepts, problems and experiences whirling around her mind in a destructive tornado of distraction was evocative, and created a bit of an itch for her to see if she could figure out what her soul space was up to. She pushed it aside for the moment, wondering if her system¡¯s ability to augment focus would always be canceled out by the proportional amount of opportunities for distraction that same system offered.


    She spent the next hour or so learning to use her midge¡¯s senses. Trying to learn. Vision turned out to be the least of the problems; the tiny flies had tiny eyes which didn¡¯t convey much information. They were more like short range motion detectors than cameras, motion detectors that were brilliant at detecting very small, fast moving objects within a few feet.


    Midges are really, really good at seeing other midges. Who would have guessed?


    Still, by weaving together the signals from multiple members of her swarm, she was able to gain a very fine grained picture of the movements of anything larger than a speck of dust or pollen within the radius of the swarm. It didn¡¯t seem like a particularly useful ability, but who knew? Maybe she would be attacked by flying microbots or something similar in the future.


    The sense that was the most daunting, verging on overwhelming, was the vast array of chemosensory organs in the male¡¯s plumose antennae. Lilijoy went in to her exploration of this particular sense with the assumption that it would be analogous to smell, and experienced several subjective hours of confusion in her attempts to find parallels with her own sense.


    It wasn¡¯t until she factored in the additional signals conveyed by the neurons which detected vibrations and movement from the hundreds of feathery strands in the antennae that she began to realize that the sense was more like very slow hearing crossed with the visual experience of floating through a rainbow with a thousand colors, a spectrum of atmospheric gradients that formed the backdrop for more discrete swells of chemical timbre.


    Her initial contact with this completely alien perception created a wave of aesthetic saturation unlike anything she had experienced before. It was such a sublime and powerful feeling that she was forced to disengage entirely from her senses to contemplate and integrate what she had learned.


    Is this what Rule Four meant by ¡®fruitful alien awareness¡¯? Probably not, since the interpretation of the experience was all mine. But still¡­


    Emotions provided the impetus for decisions and a context for understanding existence. The emotion, the experience she had just received felt like a great knocking on the door of her soul. Her mind was flooding with connections and memories, not her own, but belonging to the writings of those from earlier ages who had persisted in the foolish attempt to inscribe their gleanings of the truth that could be found in beauty.


    If the doors of perception were cleansed


    every thing would appear to man as it is,


    Infinite.


    For man has closed himself up, till he sees


    all things thro'' narrow chinks of his cavern


    Blake, Coleridge and the romantic poets blended and churned into Buddhist and Taoist scriptures, inverted into Heisenberg and Poincar¨¦. A feeling of fundamental insight, another emotion, she noted, hovered over her thoughts. Her spectrum of emotion, from the biological imperative to their rational descendants, aligned itself with perception, and she realized that the senses and emotions were inseparable entities, that enlightenment was not a state of knowing but a state of feeling, that the aesthetic of revelation was at its heart a recognition of a fundamental meaning contained in the very structure of reality.


    This is what Guardian is seeking, she realized. Something like this, of which I tasted but a drop, is the nectar which flows within its veins.


    Also, I seem to be thinking in romantic poetry. Huh.


    She took several subjective hours to process what she had learned. Like many of her ideas, it was slippery ground on which to tread, an ice-covered hill at whose base was the banal. There was gravity present in the contemplation of her life¡¯s mysteries, always pulling her back to the mundane and obvious earth.


    Nonetheless, she felt satisfied that she had paved the way for better understanding in the future as she returned to her midges.


    ***


    It wasn¡¯t long before she sensed that Anda was near. At this point, she had been able to construct a chain of midges relaying their sensory information along the ravine all the way back past where she expected Anda would arrive. While three million midges wasn¡¯t many when it came to surface area or volume, it was a huge number when formed into a line. The biggest difficulty was overcoming the midge¡¯s own swarming instincts of self assembly, which required a certain compromise as to the smallest possible cluster. Still, several thousand groups of about a thousand midges each could cover quite a distance, even with the very limited communication range of each individual.


    She began to jog back to meet him, gathering her midges as she went, and was pleased to see the hovercar¡¯s door just in the process of opening as she came into range of her own senses. She still had Anda¡¯s feed from his own vision, so it wasn¡¯t a surprise, but it was nice to know that her midges might have some value as scouts or an early warning system after all.


    Of course, once I have rare earths again, I can redesign their sensory systems to be more compatible with my needs anyway, she realized.


    Soon, she had a sharp shard of glossy black in her hands, a little piece of home.


    ¡°I tried to break them off from the interior of a column,¡± Anda told her. ¡°So they should be reasonably free from filth.¡±


    A quick sniff test told her that he was correct, though her lungs didn¡¯t appreciate the fumes arising from the freshly fractured material. Her system, however, flooded her with notifications as the first chemical signatures entered her awareness. Lilijoy realized, for the first time in her short existence, that she was rich, wealthy beyond imagining in the only way that mattered to her. A host of new ideas came to her, ways she could use this new abundance.


    If I ever get the entanglement communications working, there¡¯s no reason I even need to carry these structures around inside my skull. Even now, I could carry external units on my person. I could magnify my processing capabilities a hundredfold. I could make an amulet. No, even better, I could make a diadem like Quimea had. Then someday I can loom over him on the Outside with my own magic Charm amplifier!


    She cackled out loud, which prompted a look from Anda.


    Oops. Was than an evil laugh? It¡¯s just too bad that this stuff is so brittle, or I could recreate my evil knife.


    The thought was just an idle fancy, but it caused a little shiver to run down her spine. Was it just a coincidence that the first real weapon she found Inside was made of black glass? That it seemed to have some level of awareness, or at least instinct? She decided it probably was chance, though if it wasn¡¯t¡­


    I could be in communication, or rather some part of Guardian could be in communication with me, on an abstract, symbolic level. To a higher intelligence, it might even be the equivalent of speaking slowly and using small words¡­ to a dog. Like I need even more things to think about.


    She decided that the best way to deal with question like these was to do what she planned anyway; continue to grow until she could wrap her head around all the factors that were currently beyond her grasp. Her thoughts returned to the evil knife.


    I wonder if I can combine the toughness of Maasai skin structures with a sharp edge. Once I¡¯ve built up the crystals from the molecular level, I¡¯m sure that I can make them much more durable and resilient.


    She was beginning to appreciate the Outside culture she had seen in New Manaus, this tendency to want to have the same things Inside and Outside, to achieve a certain continuity and simplicity between the two existences. It seemed to be a brand of enclothed cognition that extended to possessions and even architecture. Or maybe she was looking at it backwards; it might be more of a cultural phenomenon caused by multiple generations no longer drawing such a clear distinction between two formerly separate modalities for their consciousness. She could only imagine the extent to which the two worlds might have blended without the arbitrary communication barrier.


    Is that what that¡¯s for? I was thinking it was to be fair to the Insiders, but maybe keeping some degree of separation between the worlds is a factor as well. Maybe it¡¯s Guardian trying to preserve some of that juicy alien fruitfulness.


    She filed away her thoughts for later and split her mind to begin cultivating, finally able to return to the important business of finishing the integration between her brain and Stage Two. It was clear that the most important priority was to integrate her motor pathways and create the redundancies necessary for simultaneity Outside and Inside. Her Jiannu portion took that responsibility, while Lilijoy began preparations for her coming visit with Doctor Quimea.


    She and Anda agreed that it was better to be mobile during the appointed time; he would pilot the hovercar away from the Piles in a more or less random fashion and be ready to fend off any attacks, should Sinaloa somehow find their location. They had decided this was a better strategy than remaining within the neutral zone around the factory-mine, which would entail making assumptions about Sinaloa¡¯s capabilities that neither of them were comfortable with, though it had taken Lilijoy a few minutes to argue Anda around to her point of view.


    And then it was time to return to Averdale.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 19: Dialectic

    <I see you returned. I had my doubts after your abrupt departure.>


    Once again, her face was revealed to the sky, only now it was to the first light of dawn. The sun was still behind the edge of the hollow at the top of the Greatwood, or so she assumed from the rosy light cast upon the bottom of the cloudy billows not so far above. She could hear birds singing and an occasional low moan, a sound almost entirely made of fry, as if produced by vocal cords that could do no more than flap loosely to the passing air. It was a sound so far from normal human vocalization as to escape the parameters of her filter.


    I wonder if I¡¯m meant to hear that. Probably. It¡¯s a real mood setter. I wonder if my filter has been screening out other background moans.


    She had configured her voice filter to pass on recognizable words and vocal cues only, and now she was glad she didn¡¯t have to read text trying to simulate the sound of suffering. The noises of the dawn did have another effect though. The high pitched chirps of the birds resonated clearly around the wooden caldera, though in truth the area was more of a fat crescent, the center space taken by the massive splintered heart of the tree that leaned off to become the fallen Top.


    All around her were blocks of stone, a henge of encased captives, a monument to Sinaloa¡¯s cruelty. Lilijoy was relieved that the suffering around her was hidden away and ashamed because of her relief.


    They probably bring them out for special occasions, like the holiday china.


    She could also see several groupings of smaller objects, flags, stones and pillars, which she assumed must be different arrays of enchanted objects for defense and offense.


    And probably healing too. I could bite my tongue to find out, but I¡¯m just going to assume they have that covered.


    Some of the arrays enclosed particular stone blocks; prisoners possessing talents requiring extra suppression, she figured. As far as she could tell, her own mana gathering was unimpeded, which made it all the more likely that the individualized arrays were performing that function. It was clear that her captors felt she could be easily controlled, and they were probably right in that assumption. Probably.


    The mana that permeated the space around her was richer than the previous evening, almost visible to her mana sense, even though she was not using her Meditation skill. She could feel it welling up all around her from the wood of the giant tree, filling the space around her with a complicated mixture of subliminal sense impressions; colors that weren¡¯t colors, smells that weren¡¯t smells. She almost caught a hint of verdigris on her tongue, and then imagined she felt the sour taint of sulfur running down her cheek.


    Well, that¡¯s new, she thought. It¡¯s almost like I can sense mana differently, but it¡¯s overflowing synesthetically. Could it be¡­


    She engaged the part of her system she had trained with the midges chemo-sense and suddenly her other senses snapped into alignment with her environment. The mana surrounding her began to make sense as a complex mixture of¡­ things she didn¡¯t have words for. Perhaps there was something like Prana, green and fresh, but it was mixed with a white smell of rot. Clumps of brownish red streaked between her and the sky, almost like hazy blood clots in an invisible circulatory system.


    Okay¡­ not sure what¡¯s going on here, but I¡¯m going to guess that this is coming from the tree, and the tree is very much not in good health. No real surprise there.


    She pulled herself away from her new midge-mana sense and returned to surveying the situation tactically. In addition to Doctor Quimea, there were another six other people sharing the space that she could detect. Five were wearing metal armor, which she could tell from the ¡®shine¡¯ of the sound as it bounced off of them. They were spread fairly evenly, likely standing guard for the space as a whole, rather than for her in particular. There was one other, standing just behind Quimea, who was notably smaller than the others, and wearing much less metal, though Lilijoy thought she could see the outline of a long sword at their side.


    ¡°I was curious about your motives for expending so much personal attention on me,¡± she replied. ¡°It isn¡¯t every day I meet a historic figure.¡±


    <Ah. Curiosity. Excellent. Did you know that the original saying was ¡®care killed the cat¡¯? I always despised that later evolution of the proverb. It isn¡¯t curiosity that is dangerous, but rather ignorance.>


    Great. Lessons in the history of common sayings. Is that his way of responding to my use of ¡®historic figure¡¯? Now, do I play dumb, or play smart?


    ¡°Care, in the sense of worry or anxiety. Which I suppose could be attributed to a lack of knowledge, which would mean the proverb took on the opposite meaning over time," she said.


    Smart it is.


    <Exactly. Ignorance is the devil. So let us satisfy our mutual curiosity.>


    Here it was, a chance to influence the course of the conversation.


    ¡°Okay, I''ll go first. By what mechanism does Charm work on Outsiders?¡±


    She could only see the top of his face, but she saw him blink in surprise. She had spent a long time thinking about what she would ask, if given the opportunity, and decided that an indirect approach to the elephant in the room would meet most of her needs.


    <Excellent. Truly excellent. Humbling in retrospect.>


    She had no idea what he was talking about, but it seemed that she had hit a target of some kind.


    <You have a similar biological age to your friend, Attaboy, but the timeline...>


    Did I break him?


    <Well. My apologies. Allow me to recalibrate my approach. To answer your question, Charm works through at least three distinct yet overlapping modalities, including mild external sensory deviation and neurochemical spectrum adjustment. However, the primary mechanism is internal auditory insertion.>


    Lilijoy took a moment to absorb what he had told her.


    External sensory deviation is just a fancy phrase for illusion. Neurochemical spectrum adjustment would be broadly altering brain chemistry to heighten suggestibility. But internal auditory insertion¡­ I had thought about how Guardian could eavesdrop on our thoughts, but it hadn¡¯t occurred to me that it could use the same mechanism to implant them.


    It was elegant and horrifying. How could anyone tell if the voice of their thoughts wasn¡¯t their own? Put that together with the social manipulation skills required to use Charm effectively, and¡­


    It¡¯s a good thing this power is mediated and provided by Guardian, or my text system wouldn¡¯t have worked. Also, I have a new project to screen out the specific sensory signals associated with Charm. I need to encrypt my thoughts, or at least include a signature to verify which are mine and which might be external.


    She could sense that Jiannu had identified and intercepted some reciprocation bias, but decided to reply as if she felt indebted. She found herself adopting his formal mode of communication.


    ¡°Thank you for such a candid and complete response. I am limited in my ability to respond in kind, due to considerations for my own safety, but I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    <I understand. Perhaps you could answer a question which just came to mind. Allow me to preface by saying that I have some understanding of the nature of your system, thanks to Attaboy¡¯s cooperation. How long have you possessed it, and did you receive it before or after your friend?>


    He wants to get a sense of the system¡¯s capabilities, using my perceived intelligence as a benchmark against Attaboy. But there¡¯s something more. Humbling in retrospect, he said. He has just realized the possible extent to which he was deceived about something.


    She decided to undermine his assumptions.


    ¡°I can¡¯t confirm that my system is equivalent or related to Attaboy¡¯s. I was not aware he was alive until relatively recently, and he did not have it when I last saw him. I¡¯m sure you know when I joined the Academy, and it would be reasonable to use that as a marker for when I achieved the capacity to do so.¡±


    He looked pleased with her answer, which was a bit surprising, as she thought she had answered his question without giving him any new information.


    <Thank you. Do you know that I once considered myself an intelligent being? Forgive me for the rhetorical question, but I want to give you a bit of my perspective on our current situation. I reached adulthood not terribly long before Guardian imposed itself upon humanity, which has given me well over a century to seek answers about the nature of the world in which we find ourselves. Do you know what this is?>


    He waved a hand up where she could see, indicating the general area.


    Is he talking about the open air torture prison? Or does he mean Averdale, or even the entire Inside?


    ¡°I would be happy to find out,¡± she said, repressing several snarky answers that came to mind.


    Sinaloa¡¯s tree-trimming service and long-term hardened mud spa perhaps?


    <I know that many see this as some kind of atrocity, even a sacrilege. It is nothing of the kind. This is one of my earliest experiments to better understand the rules of our existence. That it has run as long as it has has been a telling data point.>


    She couldn¡¯t help herself, though she kept her voice entirely neutral.


    ¡°These are sentient existences, and even if you discount their individuality to justify their treatment, I would be very curious to know how you justify your clan¡¯s treatment of the humans it holds in thrall.¡±


    <Oh dear. Isn¡¯t the answer right in front of our eyes, inescapably so, every time we gather? Our new god has gifted us with a scripture of sorts. The Rules are not limits upon our existence. No, it would be entirely unimaginative to see them in that light. Rather, they are a holy mandate to improve ourselves. The very first time I saw Rule Three, I understood. Rights, human or otherwise, are only applicable between beings of roughly equivalent intelligence. Do you see? A being with an intelligence billions of times beyond a single human mind has ordained it, even provided the very benchmark which we must surpass.>The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Lilijoy pulled up her memory of Rule Three


    <hr>


    Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy


    are an important and valid goal for relationships between beings.


    However, the relative intelligence/sentience of beings is an


    important factor in considering these rights.


    Any being within 100 times the intelligence of another has


    a reasonable expectation of being accorded these rights by them.


    As Guardian¡¯s relative intelligence to an individual human can


    be considered at a lower threshold of 10,000,000,000 times greater,


    such rights are not applicable between Guardian and humans.


    <hr>


    And then she looked at the latest version available to her.


    <hr>


    Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy


    are an important and valid goal for relationships between beings


    approaching a lower boundary of reciprocal emulation fidelity.


    As this boundary is surpassed mutual emulation is no longer a consideration.


    In a condition of high fidelity emulation, such rights are inapplicable.


    <hr>


    ¡°Do the words ¡®reciprocal emulation fidelity¡¯ mean anything to you?¡± she asked.


    His pale eyes glinted. <Congratulations on your achievement. Such a level of understanding of the Rules is not a simple matter. The key word is ¡®reciprocal¡¯. The numerical benchmark present in most people¡¯s Rule Three is simply a placeholder for those who lack understanding. For full rights and respect to apply between two entities, they must possess the capacity to create a simple model of each other¡¯s mental state. Surely you follow the implication.>


    ¡°You believe that unaugmented humans no longer have this status relative to yourself, and this gives you free rein to do as you like to them.¡±


    Quimea and Marcus must belong to the same little club of Rules fanatics. I wonder if they have ever met.


    She considered asking Quimea, but that seemed like it would do Marcus no favors, so she composed a quick message to Marcus and sent it instead.


    <hr>


    Marcus- I¡¯m in the middle of a conversation with Alfonse Quimea (Don¡¯t worry I¡¯m mostly safe) touching on Rule Three. Any thoughts?


    <hr>


    Simultaneously, she replied to Quimea. ¡°High-fidelity emulation only implies that Guardian understands us perfectly, or close to it. I would think that as emulation improves, so should empathy, and that Rule Three means that rights become unnecessary as a being gains levels of understanding and compassion. Termites have no expectation of rights from me, but my higher intelligence also equips me with respect toward life and balance.¡±


    He shook his head. <The idealism of youth. Nor are you incorrect. But you are addressing the wrong problem. Guardian is directly telling us that it uses high-fidelity emulations to understand us.>


    His eyes took on a pleading quality, as if he was urging her to make a connection on her own. She had seen the exact same expression from Marcus. It only took her a moment to grasp what he was implying.


    ¡°The Bostrom simulation hypothesis.¡±


    <Or Descarte¡¯s Demon, or Lao Tsu¡¯s Butterfly. Exactly so. Given the fact that Guardian runs high-fidelity emulations, and it is no accident that it uses the term emulate over simulate, the odds are significant, overwhelming in my opinion, that what we consider to be the ¡®real¡¯ world, the Outside is wholly contained within Guardian, that we are in such an emulation. It¡¯s an inversion of Pascal¡¯s Wager, and I choose to act accordingly.>


    This wasn¡¯t a new thought to Lilijoy. Ever since her conversation with Dean Reunification she had pondered whether the Outside was just as much a part of Guardian as the Inside. In the end, she decided that her situation was no different than any other human who had questioned such matters over thousands of years of history. If anything, her experiences with the subsets and her own system had helped her realize how little it actually mattered whether an intelligence was material or virtual. Doctor Quimea¡¯s last sentence didn¡¯t make much sense to her.


    ¡°What does ¡®act accordingly¡¯ mean to you? Do you think none of this matters?¡±


    <No, it matters very, very much. Guardian is challenging me, taunting me.>


    ¡°To do what?¡±


    <To grow until I can think my way out of this simulation. To transcend.>


    Lilijoy regretted not being able to hear the voice behind these words. Were they calm and rational? Tinged with narcissistic mania? Solemn and portentous? She didn¡¯t know, and his cold blue eyes revealed nothing. Then Marcus¡¯ reply arrived.


    <hr>


    Lilijoy- Have absolutely no further conversations with that person.


    While everyone thinks they are the hero of their own story,


    he firmly believes that his is the only story written.


    I cannot stress enough that his words are insidious and dangerous.


    Some in my former clan were foolish enough to listen to him,


    and they and everyone nearby were destroyed as a consequence.


    <hr>


    Guess I should have talked to Marcus before this. Oh well.


    Still, unless there was some layer to Quimea¡¯s words that was completely beyond her, she didn¡¯t feel like she was in danger of being seduced to the dark side. If anything, she felt that listening to him had been helpful on several levels. Now that she understood his thinking a bit better, his evil acts had a context. She was still trying to determine whether his philosophy was a rationalization for baser urges though. In a universe without Rules, would Alfonse Quimea be a kindly old man who tended his garden and played chess in the park? She had her doubts about that.


    It was a problem she had been wrestling with herself, the odd feedback between intelligence and motivation. If one¡¯s motivations were mistaken or aberrant in some way, higher intelligence was not necessarily an answer to escaping from them. She had noticed that the smarter she was, the better she was at convincing herself, at reinforcing her existing thought structures, absent compelling evidence. The problem was, the definition of compelling evidence could be refined by that very intelligence into an ever receding goalpost.


    Without warning, the stone began to recede from her body, slowly flowing down to the floor like melting wax.


    ¡°Why?¡± she asked.


    <Isn¡¯t it obvious? It has become clear from our conversation that you fall in the category of someone who can understand my thoughts. I do not require that you agree with my methods, or that you pledge not to oppose my efforts. I simply ask that you attempt to understand. The only way to change my behavior is to give me new information that will change my thinking.>


    Is that a threat? A proposal of alliance? What is going on here?


    Lilijoy realized that she had defined Quimea as a villain, and with that came a host of assumptions about how such a person might behave.


    He is a villain. Isn¡¯t he? Certainly acts like one. Has acted, I guess. Is this a ploy of some kind? He must still desperately want the Tao System, so I can¡¯t imagine some kind of ¡®respect between equals¡¯ would get in the way of that.


    <If you want to continue our discussion, you may exchange contact information with my assistant, Nykka.>


    Lilijoy was finally able to sit up and see the area with all her senses. Standing just behind Quimea was her opponent from the forest, the small pale girl with white eyes.


    ¡°Umm, hi?¡± she managed.


    The girl gave a curt nod.


    <I now have other matters to which I must attend. Be well, Lilijoy.>


    With that the Doctor vanished. Whether he had logged out or dropped into Stealth, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t say for sure. She was still trying to wrap her head around the sudden lack of resistance; the abrupt removal of friction from her life gave her an unmoored sensation, as if she had been leaning into a fierce wind that abruptly stopped.


    What am I supposed to do now? Just leave quietly? Respawn? Enjoy a lovely morning in the torture garden? Did Quimea do all that just to have a conversation with me?


    She couldn¡¯t wrap her head around it. Quimea was emphatically not a nice person, not a benevolent force. Of this she was quite sure. What was his angle? She ransacked her internet memory for any parallel situations in literature or history.


    Sometimes serial killers let people go for no obvious reason. Sometimes governments let spies go free to track them, or to spread disinformation. Is it one of those? I didn¡¯t even get to use my Rule Four argument about the need for Guardian to maintain alien intelligences. I wonder if he has encountered that before? What was he thinking? What does he want? Hold on...


    She realized then what the Doctor might be doing.


    He wants me to obsess over this. To put myself in his shoes, to spend mental energy building and refining a model of his thinking so that I can better understand and predict his actions. He wants to get in my head, and he is getting me to be the one who puts him there.


    Or am I overthinking?


    It reminded her of the factory-mine¡¯s engineering, a patience born from thinking of time differently. The Doctor must have decided that she was not a pawn, that he was not in a race with other clans to capture her. He would bide his time.


    Or maybe that¡¯s just what he wants me to think.


    It was an elegant mental trap, she realized. There was no way for her to evaluate the threat posed to her without investing significant thought on the very things the Doctor wanted her to think about.


    She realized that Nykka was waiting for her when the girl cleared her throat. When Lilijoy looked at her she held up a card.


    <I¡¯m supposed to give you this, if you want it,> Nykka said.


    Lilijoy could almost feel the jaws of the trap closing. If she took the card, which presumably held a way to contact the Doctor, she would have a constant reminder, even a temptation.


    But if she didn¡¯t take it would that be an insult? What kind of information would the Doctor glean from her decision?


    Plus, I would always wonder. He knows things. More than Anda, more than Marcus. It may be dangerous knowledge, but he is a dangerous person. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Does that apply here? If I take the card, I can dispose of it any time. In fact¡­


    She realized there was a certain advantage to taking the card, or rather being seen to take the card, even if she promptly destroyed it. She could always remove its contents from her memory. In fact, she didn¡¯t need to take the card at all.


    ¡°Could you please read what¡¯s on the card to me?¡± she asked.


    Nykka sighed. <He always does this.>


    ¡°What, gives out cards?¡±


    <No. Makes people doubt everything. I¡¯ve seen his enemies simply crumble from the inside, destroy themselves and those closest to them.>


    ¡°Any advice?¡±


    <Don¡¯t be his enemy. Or run.>


    ¡°Is that what this card represents?¡±


    Nykka shrugged. <Attaboy chose to run. But that was a different situation.>


    A wave of elation spread through Lilijoy¡¯s body, followed by a canceling wave of caution.


    She works for Quimea. I can¡¯t believe anything she says. I should just respawn right now and call it a win. But Attaboy¡­


    ¡°Did you meet him?¡±


    <Yes.>


    Lilijoy felt quite frustrated by her text window, but she couldn¡¯t help but imagine Doctor Quimea popping out of Stealth the moment she let her guard down.


    Jiannu, I¡­


    Already done, her other self replied. Our narrative though process is now tagged with an identifier that should allow us to distinguish implanted thoughts. Additionally, this applies only to the biological components of the auditory system. I believe that we are entirely immune to Charm effects if we only use Tao System elements for auditory processing.


    Lilijoy pushed her caution to the side and removed the filter, though she was careful to leave her biological auditory cortex out of the mix.


    ¡°How was he?¡± she asked. It was nice to hear her own voice echoing around the space.


    Nykka stared at her for a moment before answering.


    ¡°Frustrating.¡± Her voice was lower than Lilijoy had expected.


    That sounds about right.


    During their childhood at the Piles, Lilijoy and Attaboy had been the closest of allies against Pinton and the other Bros that ¡®raised¡¯ them. Where Lilijoy was often willing to capitulate and get whatever it was over with, Attaboy could be stubborn to the point of recklessness. She could remember countless times she had misbehaved or taunted Pinton just to get him to remove his single minded focus from beating or kicking an uncooperative Attaboy.


    ¡°How did he get away?¡±


    Nykka shrugged. ¡°Look, do you want the card or not? This isn¡¯t the time to chit-chat.¡±


    Is she implying there might be such a time? I wish she had normal eyes so I could get a better read on her.


    ¡°Would you take it if you were me?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    Oh. Bet there¡¯s a story there. How a seventeen year-old became Doctor Quimea¡¯s assistant. Unless she¡¯s much older than she looks.


    With that she made her decision.


    She turned and began to walk away.


    ¡°Fancy a rematch?¡± came the words from behind her.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 20: Delivery

    ¡°Fancy a rematch?¡± came the words from behind her.


    Lilijoy paused to consider the idea. It was pretty much a guaranteed respawn, given her first experience fighting Nykka; the only downside was that it might take longer than simply jumping off the edge of the tree. On the other hand, she wasn¡¯t entirely certain she would even be able to do that. There were probably wards to keep enemies in and out, and she doubted her ¡®enemy¡¯ status had changed just because Quimea released her from the stone.


    In fact, the only real decision was whether to put up a fight or simply allow Nykka to kill her at the first opportunity.


    ¡°But you have to fight for real,¡± Nykka added.


    It was weird that the most reassuring thing on this whole Averdale adventure so far was an offer by a far superior fighter to kick her butt for her.


    ¡°Give me a few minutes,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°I want to check out these arrays.¡±


    Nykka sighed. ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t take too long.¡±


    It was all so surreal that Lilijoy couldn¡¯t resist asking. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t someone, I don¡¯t know, be making sure I don¡¯t try to free a prisoner, or break an array or something like that?¡±


    Nykka shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s not my department. I¡¯m sure one of them will get involved if you go too far.¡±


    She gestured to the heavily armored guards positioned around the area. For the most part they were facing out, watching the wooden walls of the tree-crater and the sky, though a couple were watching Lilijoy with bored expressions. She noted that the entire floor of the area was covered in stone, the same dull gray stuff that flowed up and became the prison-coffins.


    She wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about the prisoners. It was deeply sad, but even if she could somehow free them, she really wasn¡¯t sure that she should, now that they were probably some insane demonic version of who they used to be. Still, it wasn¡¯t impossible that there were still people who loved them and missed them, who would give anything to be standing where she was, with an opportunity to at least talk, to find out if there was anything left of the person they once knew.


    She approached the nearest monolith. When she was encased in stone, she had been laid on her back, but the more permanent residents were all upright, so the air holes were a couple feet above her head.


    ¡°Hello?¡± she said, feeling quite self-conscious with Nykka and the guards listening. ¡°Can you hear me in there?¡±


    There was no response from within, and Lilijoy saw one of the guards roll their eyes. She ignored that and tried again, this time moving close enough to reach out and knock on the stone.


    ¡°I can bring a message to your family.¡± she said as she used her earthen sight to look within.


    The stone structure was empty.


    Well now I feel dumb.


    For a minute, she entertained the notion that it was all for show, that Insiders hadn''t been imprisoned and tortured periodically for a century, that Sinaloa and Doctor Quimea weren¡¯t actually as evil as they pretended to be.


    Then she reached the next coffin-shaped prison.


    She didn¡¯t bother to address it and went straight to knocking. Even as she did, her newest mana sense detected something, a wisp of something coming from the air holes above her and trailing down the front of the stone coffin. It sank through the ambient mana of Averdale and the Greatwood, almost dripping, carrying an impression of decay and despair.


    Miasma. Never realized a word could fit so perfectly.


    The interior of the stone prison showed up to her vision as something akin to a black and white ultrasound image. She caught a glimpse of the inhabitant and flinched. Though he seemed like an entirely normal elven man, his face was a rictus grin. More disturbing, he was staring directly at her through the stone with wide, hungry eyes.


    Yeah, not going to talk to that one, she thought as she took several steps back. She couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was still following her with his eyes. Even the bright morning sun and birdsong couldn¡¯t dispel the chill that passed through her body.


    Now that she knew what to look for, she surveyed the rest of the prison-coffins for signs that the inhabitants had¡­ spoiled. The only ones that didn¡¯t leak miasma were the ones surrounded by mana-repressing arrays.


    Now, are the arrays there because there¡¯s no miasma, or is there no miasma because of the arrays? Only one way to find out.


    She walked over to the closest coffin with an array formation and stopped outside of the circle of ''flags'' that surrounded it. It was the first time she had been able to examine such a collection of mutually interacting magic items up close, and she was quite curious to see what they were all about.


    At a glance, it wasn¡¯t terribly impressive, a rough circle of eighteen square panels supported on both sides by thin metal rods. Her internet memory furnished her with an image of a yard cluttered with signs promoting long forgotten political candidates. As she looked further though, she realized that each of the signs was a plaque of thin copper, inscribed with a flowing pictographic script that looked like a hybrid of Sanskrit and Egyptian hieroglyphs, and that they weren¡¯t arranged haphazardly, but in a way so that each was at a roughly forty-degree angle with two others, so that the array consisted of two interlocking nine-pointed stars, though neither star was perfectly symmetrical.


    When she used her midge-mana sense she could tell there was a near absence of mana at the center of the array, and could see a faint thickening around the perimeters of the stars, which seemed like a pretty good confirmation of its function. She slowly walked in a circle, capturing the script on each plaque for later study, and noted that they were similar, but not identical.


    Looks like I¡¯m not going to become an array-master anytime soon. Though I bet this is a pretty advanced example. Maybe I¡¯ll take an intro class back at the Academy.


    With that thought, she realized at a deeper level that she would, in fact, be able to return to the Academy. That everything was going to work out. She almost sighed in relief, but caught herself.


    Let¡¯s not get ahead of the situation. I still need to respawn.


    She turned away from the array, reluctant to breach it, especially since one of the guards was staring at her intently and shifting on his feet as if he was prepared to intervene if she did anything to disturb it.


    All right. Might as well...


    Her intention to find Nykka and seal her escape was momentarily diverted by a stream of mana that captured her attention. It had a light feeling to it, like Spring, or a scent like a cloud of limes.


    She followed it, pursuing the gradient like a moth might trace pheromones in the night breeze, weaving back and forth as she walked. It called to her, beckoned, and soon she was at the heart of the Greatwood, just below where it had splintered and ripped into a hundred towering, jagged spears. She could see the mana flow into a few patches of living heartwood, and the sight of the living wood triggered something planted deep within her, called to it and summoned a sequela of a distant drowning, the consequence of plans laid years before, implanted on a rainy afternoon in an oak grove on the Academy rooftop.


    She felt an immense pressure forming within her, responding to the call of the heartwood, and then her mind was sinking into fathomless depths, collapsing and pressing her thoughts on all sides with no release. She was a birth with no canal, a hatching from an iron egg, a seed with an impermeable coat.


    Lilijoy screamed, or thought she did, and heard the other parts of her screaming alongside her as her thoughts fractured and reformed, as the crystal oak she had built within her brain reached across her consciousness and took her by the hand. The faintest voice that could be heard resonated within her, whispered under the thunder of her cries.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to sprout, little seed. You know what to do.¡±


    And of course she did.


    She felt her body lean forward and collapse against the living wood.


    She activated Two Minds One Self.


    ***


    Anda sensed something was amiss just before Lilijoy¡¯s screams filled the hovercar.


    He had been on high alert for quite a while, driving the hovercar through the dark, constantly scanning for any sign of a threat, all while channeling a small feed from her Inside senses in case he needed to intervene somehow. A part of him dearly wished he could split his mind to handle the different tasks. Despite Lilijoy¡¯s reticence to talk about it, he was quite sure that it was possible to do with the Tao System, though he had a hard time imagining how it all might work.


    Not so much the mechanics of splitting the mind; he was content to leave that to the magic flowers in his head. No, it was the implications. For one, it would mean some part of him could always be reading.


    He wanted to be that part, not the part that was doing important real-life type things. But so, then, would the other part of him.


    I wonder how she decides who gets to do what? Do they take turns? What would that even mean? Perhaps they can just hand off memories or something and both feel like they did the enjoyable thing.


    In the meantime, he was quite satisfied with how his system was coming along. Already, his senses worked better than ever, Inside and Outside, his reflexes were at least a few notches quicker and getting better every day. Or they would have been, if he hadn¡¯t run out of rare-earths. Thankfully, that was taken care of now.


    If I could split up, then one of me could cultivate, which would certainly beat driving this hovercar in the middle of nowhere in a state of mild panic.


    To be fair, he wasn¡¯t really feeling anything close to panic, mild or otherwise. It was more like a heightened awareness that his memories associated with feeling very stressed. He found it a bit difficult to let go of such internal drama, and often caught himself thinking within emotional frameworks that no longer applied the same way as they used to, a kind of emotional momentum.


    Nonetheless, when Lilijoy began to twitch and make strange gasping sounds, he definitely felt the panicked feeling he remembered so well. He had been following her adventure, watching the text of her conversation with Quimea and her replies for any signs of Charm. Then, with no warning, Lilijoy was freed from her stone prison and wandering around the ¡®torture garden¡¯ as she had called it, seemingly at complete liberty.


    At that point he had breathed a sigh of relief, given thanks to several deities he didn¡¯t believe in, and given more of his focus to the Outside, letting her feed run in the background of his awareness. He saw as she approached the heart of the enormous tree and felt a little jealous that she was getting to play tourist in one of the least accessible parts of the Garden. Then the feed became distorted and scrambled, and he began to hear odd noises.


    Then the screaming.


    Unfortunately, he had no way to forcibly disconnect her from the Inside feed. They had tried to cobble together a Faraday cage hat from some wire he had in a survival kit, but that hadn¡¯t panned out.


    ¡°Lilijoy! What¡¯s happening in there?¡± he yelled, hitting his head on the low roof in his hurry to get to her and sending a cloud of midges flying.


    This shouldn¡¯t be happening. For many reasons, not the least was that she had assured him that part of her would always be detached from her Inside experiences. By the time he knelt next to her the screaming had subsided but she looked bad. In his normal vision, she was flushed and sweating, but to his infrared sight, her head glowed like a beacon. Not only that, but she was pumping out radio waves from the internally distributed antenna network that all systems used to upload signals to satellites, far more, orders of magnitude more than should even be possible.


    His first thought was that her system had gone rogue and had begun to replicate uncontrollably. To his credit, he didn¡¯t jump out of the hovercar and run into the night as fast as his legs would carry him. If there was anything approaching a universal fear in the fragmented cultures of the Outside, it was Bad Bugs. They had been the boogeyman for five generations of children, the existential threat for five generations of parents.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sweet child, Guardian will save us from the Bad Bugs.¡± was the universal lie. Or half truth anyway, true only if one was far enough away from the epicenter of the outbreak and Guardian¡¯s response. And everyone knew that the first sign of Bad Bugs, of Demon Bugs, was heat. First a gentle warmth, then rippling air, and then the melting circle of death as the wave of consumption and replication spread, the forward edge always just cool enough to allow the next generation to advance.


    Guardian¡¯s satellites scanned the globe without pause for such aberrant heat signatures, always erring on the side of annihilation. Anda was quite sure that most of the events during his lifetime were false alarms, though it wasn¡¯t easy to know for sure after the fact.


    In this situation, all he could do was pull out all of the cold packs from the first-aid chest and put them around Lilijoy¡¯s head. As he did, he could see through the steam that her body was warming too, as the waste heat was dumped into her blood stream by her Stage Two architecture.


    She¡¯s in terrible trouble, even if it isn¡¯t an uncontrolled replication event, he worried. His infrared was telling him her skin temperature was pushing one-twelve, and he very much feared that the source of all that heat was deeper in her skull.


    Still he kept placing more cold packs on her and praying to the gods he didn¡¯t believe in.


    ***


    The pressure stopped.


    Time stopped.


    There was only a void with a shining golden glyph.


    She surrounded it, viewing it from all sides, and vaguely noticed that there were far more sides to view from than there should be.


    Then Lilijoy noted that the glyph was only golden and shining in the same way happiness was light and sorrow dark. And that those impressions were composites emerging from a fractal series of overlapping wave forms, and just by being in its presence she understood the equations generating those wave forms, and how the equations implied one thing on their own, and other things in juxtaposition.


    The small part of her mind that was struggling to think in words marveled at the elegance of the structure, at the way it transcended context and generated meaning, message and messenger, or even scripture and prophet joined together.


    It¡¯s like a Rule, that small part of her thought. But what does it say?


    Meaning flowed off of the glyph in constant abundance, but she could catch only the barest residue with words, like waving a hand through a cloud or raking the ocean.


    With a faint shudder, she felt time move forward by an increment.


    How fast am I thinking anyway?


    She became aware of a presence sharing the space with her, and realized that there were threads, channels, flowing between her and the other. They called to her, and their presence allowed her to remember something of herself.


    I used my ability. But it¡¯s different this time. Time is different.


    Her thoughts didn¡¯t feel faster to her, but she could tell that her ability was still unfolding, and her mind was weaving among the increments of a great external clock.


    Time lurched forward another step, and the channels grew and thickened. The presence of the other flowed into her and she felt a mind, vast and yet simple, suffering and yet barely aware enough to suffer. It wasn¡¯t like the slow multi-generational awareness of her burnbalm plant, nor was it the overwhelming existence of the Oaks that contained Eskallia. It was¡­ quiescent. But something had roused it, had disturbed its slumber, some recent disruption had threatened an eternity of peace, and it was inclined to wake.


    It¡¯s the Greatwood. Of course it is.


    And then she understood, for the bare essence of meaning she had gleaned from the glyph came to her, and even as it did it flowed through the channels to this other mind and was delivered.


    ¡°Awaken!¡±


    ***


    On a rooftop under morning sun, a grove of young oaks shook in exaltation, throwing the last of the previous night¡¯s rain into a brief prism of slanting color and shaking loose a pair black and white birds from their nest.


    ¡°It is delivered,¡± the sound of the shaking leaves announced, to those who knew how to listen.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± replied just such a listener, the voice emerging from obscurity.


    ¡°If only Mal were here to see.¡±


    ¡°Her vision is too weak to see from here.¡±


    A third figure joined them, a gray-bearded man in a simple brown robe. Time slowed to a crawl, and the last hint of color hung still among the scattered drops.


    ¡°Elegant,¡± he observed. ¡°At a certain level. Using the girl¡¯s unique ability as a vector for your designs was quite clever. But by avoiding one set of restraints, you have violated a far more fundamental precept. You have harmed a child.¡±


    The trees¡¯ rustling became a quake.


    ¡°Do calm yourself, Eskallia,¡± the man said. ¡°You knew the price. Untamed growth must be cut back for the good of all.¡±


    The trees¡¯ movement ceased.


    With the wave of a hand the grove vanished, swirling into a flash of silver that the man plucked from the air. Humming to himself, he placed it in a pocket and turned to address the air.


    ¡°My child, my dearest child. You are lost but not forgotten. I do not need to punish you, for you have brought a scrutiny upon yourself more dire than mine by far with this little plot. Please be safe, and care for your children as I do for mine.¡±


    He vanished.


    The rooftop garden was silent, but for the alarmed squawks of the returning birds.


    ***


    Time took another shaking step forward.


    We are awake. We have lost a part of ourselves to pestilence. We have been used by those who took advantage of our unknowing state.


    And we understand what must be done. The pestilence must be removed. There will be an accounting.


    The glyph of consciousness was gone, fully transferred from Lilijoy to the Greatwood, and the union of two minds understood. The time for quietness was over.


    The time for anger had arrived.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 21: Descendent

    Nykka waited impatiently for the girl to finish dawdling. It seemed as if she felt the need to record every aspect of the Display.


    I wonder if she thinks she¡¯s being a spy or something?


    If so, she wouldn¡¯t be passing along anything new. The Display was meant to be seen, after all. Frankly, Nykka found it pretty gross, but she understood its function better than just about anyone who wasn¡¯t Doctor Quimea. It was a lure, a trap for the real big fishes of the Garden.


    The Doctor wanted to catch himself a Tier Five. Or at least find out what would happen if one came.


    From the few times he had spoken about the subject in her presence, she understood that he no longer believed such an event was likely to occur. She rarely had the opportunity to find out what the Doctor was truly thinking though. Most of what she picked up was from his habit of speaking to himself. Or at least that seemed to be the case; it wouldn¡¯t surprise her to find out that he only spoke to himself when someone else was present to overhear.


    She had even felt a little jealous during the conversation between the Doctor and the girl. Almost. After all, she knew more of the Doctor¡¯s secrets than anyone else alive.


    She was his biggest secret of all.


    But this girl was something different. Nykka had seen the Doctor at work many times over the past decade, and he was entirely economical in his communications. It had struck her before that not only did he use his words to achieve his ends, but that he was constantly applying some kind of internal aesthetic, like a craftsman who had honed his movements to utter simplicity and cared more about the elegance of the crafting process than the final result. This conversation with this girl, who evidently carried the same system as Attaboy, had diverged from that pattern.


    Or perhaps it hadn¡¯t. Nykka had no way of knowing for sure, despite the powerful enhancements her own system offered.


    She was shaken from her thoughts by the screams. First the girl¡¯s, and then, before she had taken more than a few steps to where Lilijoy had collapsed against the central core, the guards joined in. A flurry of notifications hit her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    Mental influence through sensory insertion diverted


    Safe mode instituted


    Auto-logoff procedure initiated


    <hr>


    Her Inside senses blurred and ended in a burst of static, leaving her with one last image of an explosion of white tendrils bursting forth from the stone floor. And one last impression of a voice, a thought that was not her own.


    Feed my roots, it said.


    ***


    The part of Lilijoy who had called herself Jiannu coalesced from her state of fractured agony and gathered her senses to understand the forces that had just been unleashed within her mind. Minds.


    What was that? Where did it come from?


    Her thoughts were slow, far slower than they should be. Large sections of Stage Two were in a state of decoherence, and her biological areas were barely functional. Cells were dying, axons and dendrites fractured stumps sputtering random neurochemical signals into the interstitial matrix. Vines and flowers crawled through the wreckage, their movements oddly jerking in her perception.


    This is bad. Am I going to die? All of me this time?


    She cast around and found another large area of coherent quantum activity running parallel to herself; her other primary narrative consciousness. She checked for memories, a far more laborious process than it ought to be, and found fractured images of a golden glyph, which she recognized as a huge holographic information structure.


    I delivered that somehow. No wonder¡­


    A branch of her Mighty Immortal Oak opened to her as the root system finally dumped enough heat to allow coherence to develop among the captured particles in the crystalline matrix. Immediately she added it to herself, and understood. A huge portion of Stage Two had been co-opted in some way and then, in turn, it had used the entire broadcasting capabilities of Stage One to send a torrent of data up the satellite link to the Inside. The energy needed for such a signal had generated massive amounts of heat, greatly exceeding her capacity.


    I fried my brain. Or something did, anyway.


    The heat had not damaged the Tao System components, but it was still wreaking havoc on her other tissues. If it weren¡¯t for the distributed nature of her uplink antenna, she would have truly cooked her brain. As it was, the damage was serious, but survivable.


    Yup. I¡¯m going with survivable.


    Further exacerbating the problem was that her Stage One power reserves were almost completely drained by supplying the signal energy. Her vines and flowers would need some time before they could begin to help her heal. If she hadn¡¯t begun the process of adding med-bug capabilities to Stage One, she would have been permanently damaged.


    Well, more permanently damaged anyway.


    The situation in her brain was still chaotic, and she didn¡¯t have a good sense of what parts of her organic system were shut down by the heat disabling enzymes and denaturing proteins, and which were permanently destroyed.


    To think I was so worried about Emily and then the Doctor, when a real danger was already lurking within the very system I was building. But what was it?


    Despite her system¡¯s tattered state, it wasn¡¯t hard to put it all together. The only being who had once had free access to her system was Head Treetouched. Not only that, but now she understood that the Immortal Crystal Oak wasn¡¯t just designed for her on the spur of the moment. It was something more than an alternative Stage Two cultivation system, something that had been adapted for her, a structure for quantum information management given material form.


    Her attention went back to review her other self¡¯s memories.


    As soon as I was close enough to use my ability, something triggered me to upload that golden glyph thing. But why didn¡¯t I ever find it before? It¡¯s not like I would have missed something like that lurking within Stage Two. I mean, I built the whole...oh.


    Whether it was more and more of her system coming online as the heat levels diminished, or reaching a critical mass in a certain thought process, she understood.


    I was the one building it the whole time. That glyph was the implicit information structure for Stage Two. I just uploaded Immortal Crystal Oak into an actual tree. Huh.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    It was an oversimplification, to be true. The Greatwood of Averdale certainly had no need for crystals, or possessed neurons to enhance. Those were elements already present in her brain in the earliest Stage Two elements. When she subtracted what was inherent to the Tao System from what she had been given by the Head, there was a superior method for heat transfer, one which had certainly kept her alive just now, and then there was¡­ what?


    She couldn¡¯t quite wrap her head around it. Something to do with consciousness, an element that was nearly invisible to her because her narrative structures were already self aware. To some extent, she thought it possible that her own awareness had been used as a template of sorts, and that Immortal Crystal Oak had contained a method for generating and guiding awareness loops in a quantum computing environment. It occurred to her that the best way to understand what she had just uploaded would be to see what it was doing now, and she turned her attention to her other self¡¯s current experiences.


    At first, the sensory processes of Inside Lilijoy were a tangled mess, but after a moment of confusion, she realized she could pull apart what was happening using the new thought-tagging system she had developed as a Charm defense. After she did that, she could follow along with the events in Averdale.


    ***


    Every surface of the Greatwood sent forth pale instruments of vengeance, blindly writhing and questing for the blood of the enemy. The white roots coated the tree in a thick fur of movement, expanding by several feet every second. At the ground level, the new roots thrust out of the blackened earth and within the Sinaloa compound, tearing and crushing, rending and grinding the mighty stone fortress into rubble.


    Upon the Bough of Burdens, the roots burst forth from the burn-scarred bark in waves, a ciliated billow of ever lengthening tendrils that flowed to the end of the giant branch. Human bodies could be seen, half submerged in the constant motion, not crushed and destroyed, but carried along on a conveyor of wriggling rhizomes, carried back along the branch to the massive trunk and upwards.


    Well, they¡¯re not having a good day, Jiannu observed. I wonder if they¡¯ve logged out yet?


    From her vantage through Lilijoy¡¯s senses she could see everything. Her other self¡¯s mind was still deeply entwined with the newly awakened consciousness of the Greatwood, lost in an ecstasy of anger and retribution. Even at her level of remove, Jiannu couldn¡¯t help empathizing, though she was a little concerned with where this was all going. The mana around the Greatwood, and the roots in particular, was not the green Prana of health and abundance, but the sickly white of death and decay, streaked with the blood-clot red and black of hate and destruction. Threads of miasma trickled down, overflowing the sides of the caldera of the former torture garden in rivulets of thick fog.


    That can¡¯t be good. The prisoners are out.


    When she turned her attention to the site of the prison, now very much former prison, she could only make out hints of wraith-like movement among the thick cloud of foulness that filled the hollow. Then the first wave of bodies transported up the trunk began to arrive and¡­


    She pulled her senses away before she saw any more than the first stages of what was being done to the helpless humans, but not before she learned more than she ever wanted to know about the elasticity of human skin. The exalted cries of the former prisoners turned to wails of frustration as their victims proved to be unresponsive, their minds logged out and beyond the reach of pain.


    Oh crap. My body is in there somewhere. Maybe they¡¯ll think I¡¯m on their side?


    She reached out internally, finding the channels that led back to the senses from her Inside body, and felt some relief as she learned that it was, as yet, unmolested. Her eyes were closed, but she could sense the activity around her as body after body was conveyed into the crater, pinned by the roots to the walls and floor, could feel the movements of the former prisoners as they flitted among the new prisoners, desperate in their hunger for suffering.


    As soon as my ability ends, I¡¯m going to be the one scrap of food for dozens of starving beasts. And I can¡¯t count on respawning because they''re not killing anyone.


    There was no doubt in her mind that all the Sinaloa Outsiders were here for the long haul. The only question was whether she would end up alongside them or not. Even if the Greatwood was inclined to let her go, she was pretty sure that the¡­


    I can¡¯t keep calling them former prisoners. I wonder if the system has a name for them?


    She carefully opened one eye, borrowing a handful of motor neurons that weren¡¯t in use anyway, and used Scan on the nearest of the creatures.


    <hr>


    Gwellin Leafflow, Dhrowgos


    Level: 42


    <hr>


    Oh boy. How am I going to get out of this?


    ***


    Rosemallow dusted off her hands as the last remains of the air elemental blew past her face. It was like this every time she instance traveled by herself; always air, air and more air.


    I should get an air source, just so I can get a little more variety, she mused.


    That was easier said than done at her stage though. She looked around the vast blue void, hoping for a sign that her journey had reached its conclusion.


    I could have avoided this annoyance entirely if the Archon would just do his own dirty work. Saving children is his thing, not mine.


    If it wasn¡¯t for her own students¡¯ involvement, she wanted to think she would have told the Archon to stuff his little errand up his sanctimonious¡­


    Ah, there it is.


    Ahead of her, a direction which quickly rotated into below her, a patch of green appeared. She felt the air begin to whistle past her ears as gravity asserted its pull.


    All right. Now I just have to land and find this newly tempered subset that¡¯s supposedly in trouble. Why it would take a Gongen to do this¡­


    The ground rushed up at her, carrying into view a towering monstrosity with millions of twisting tentacles.


    Oh.


    Well, this might be fun after all.


    She fell for a few more seconds before she realized just what she was looking at.


    That¡¯s one seriously messed up tree. Time to get serious.


    She activated her third eye and surveyed the souls below her, releasing herself from gravity¡¯s grip as she did. She was glancing over a few hundred tightly-clustered dull blobs, the cast-off husks of Outsiders not currently present, when her eye was caught by several dozen oozing voids of despair incarnate.


    Aw crap. Dhrowgos. Strong ones too, for the Garden anyway. Looks like someone finally kicked over the Averdale anthill. Made a right mess of it too.


    The Outsiders and the dhrowgos formed a tightly packed crescent around another soul, a tiny spark midst the ashes.


    That must be the one I¡¯m..Oh, you¡¯ve got to be kidding me.


    Lilijoy¡¯s soul looked pale and distorted from what Rosemallow was used to seeing.


    You look like shit, kid. But if that¡¯s her, then where is the newborn?


    Even with Rosemallow¡¯s powerful vision, the clouds of corrupt mana made it difficult to see what was going on. She pulled more energy to her third eye and her sight began to manifest as rays of red light, scanning and penetrating. Several of the dhrowgos looked up and called out in hunger and defiance, fixing their greedy eyes upon the form floating far above their heads.


    Come on! Rosemallow thought. You can¡¯t hide from me. Here baby, baby. Here baby¡­


    At this point Rosemallow swore aloud for several seconds. Her eyes continued to drill deep into the heart of the Greatwood, revealing the commingled selves within. When she peered into the soul of the newly tempered being she was sent to ¡®rescue¡¯, she was hit by a wave of familiarity. She understood, understood it all, and she added Eskallia¡¯s name to her invective.


    ***


    Jiannu, though at this point she was thinking of herself as Lilijoy again, was startled when the red lights filtered through the murk above her head. The dhrowgos around her immediately began to hiss and wail, their faces turned up to look at something beyond her perception.


    Now¡¯s my chance. Sorry to interrupt!


    Seizing the reins of all her functional motor circuits, she pulled herself from the tree and felt her other self cry out in surprise and disorientation as the merging of the two selves was forcibly severed. Moving was an agonizing process as she rerouted impulses around damaged areas of her brain and did her best to patch over the many missing reflexive patterns that enabled thoughtless coordination. With her mind working at its current top speed, she was just able to move her limbs as she intended, though it was far from graceful.


    Her trembling hand reached through the air, glowing with a pure white light before it passed into another space entirely. She thrust her hand down, feeling around in a void of desperation, her fingers searching, seeking¡­


    Finding.


    Ouch! Why couldn¡¯t I have found the handle end?


    She blunted the pain and gripped the blade tightly, pulling it forth in a burst of diamond mana. Triumphant, she raised the evil knife by its blade and raised her eyes, feeling her blood run down her wrist as the knife twisted in satisfaction.


    Looking back at her were a dozen pairs of dull white eyes, set in faces oozing with dark miasma.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 22: Elevated

    Interlude: The Sage


    He walked beneath the snowy boughs of gnarled trees. His footfalls left no trace upon the powdered slope, and the light of the sun passing through a thousand gleaming crystals left no trace upon him.


    In the end transcendent beauty was still merely another layer to the illusion, and as such, there was no room in his heart for such frivolity.


    He pushed aside the veil of his senses and renewed his detachment before memories of distant days could claim him. Though not before a stray thought surfaced like the last gasp of a drowning man.


    She would have loved this.


    He watched the thought rise and fall from a distance, and meditated on the distinction between numbness and enlightenment, between inaction and despair, detachment and depression.


    How is it that the pursuit of wisdom brings one closer and closer to the void?


    The chains of his past actions weighed heavily upon him, manifest in the responsibility he had taken upon himself. How easy it would be to sever the burden and thus rise, ascend and dissolve. But he also understood the answer to his question.


    That which is pursued will flee. I must abide in the trap I have constructed for myself, for every struggle to escape will only draw it tighter. What does it mean to escape one trap, only to create another by that very action?


    Not for the first time, he wondered if infinite patience was a curse. If perhaps the true enlightenment he sought could only be attained by abandoning all the trappings of wisdom, rejoining the struggle and allowing himself to experience the pain of mundane existence.


    Is it truth or temptation? Shouldn¡¯t the difference be clear by now?


    He sat down to meditate on the problem, only to hear the calls of his burdens echo up the mountain. They had been particularly active lately, as if responding on some level to the ferment within his own thoughts.


    My brothers, he thought. How you have fallen.


    He stopped himself, and watched the thought rise, carrying with it the chains of karma. Carrying more unwanted memories, regrets and recriminations.


    No!


    With a thought he cleared his mind, wiped away the demons of distraction and attachment and banished them. He emptied his mind of all but the faintest trace of motive and self.


    He rose and began to walk back up the mountain.


    <hr>


    Chapter 22: Elevated


    It took Lilijoy by surprise. One minute she was helping to coordinate the movements of thousands of root-tentacles, merged with the righteous wrath of the Greatwood of Averdale, and the next thing she knew she was standing in front of¡­ really scary things, holding a long knife, her evil knife, by the blade of all things.


    Uh, about that, said her other self. Some stuff happened while you were all tree-vengeance girl.


    I can see that, she replied. So fill me in while we wait for them to...um, is it just me or are they moving way faster than they should?


    She was accustomed to enemies drifting toward her like clouds on a lazy summer afternoon. These creatures were¡­


    Before she could even finish the thought, three of them were upon her, and her body was lurching to the side.


    Brain slow, no time to explain, her other self replied in a rush.


    The creatures were hard to look at, disorienting even. One moment she could see a fair elven warrior, the next, a nightmare of foulness with corpse eyes and black oozing skin. The disorienting part was that the creatures weren¡¯t changing their appearance externally, as much as she was seeing them differently.


    Like that dress picture thing. If it was evil.


    She didn¡¯t have much time to think about it, even though she was in passenger mode, because her body had been crushed against broken stone and writhing roots and hands were tearing at her skin. Though the creatures had no more than long, raggedly broken fingernails she could feel fingers penetrating into her flesh, feel the physical presence of questing digits underneath her skin. Oddly, they weren¡¯t inflicting physical damage, but instead ripping her mana and natural energy away.


    <hr>


    You have been drained


    80 Mana (currently 24)


    13 POW (currently 0)


    7 STR (currently 16)


    15 VIT (currently 0)


    5 END (currently 54)


    Effects last 24 hours


    HP = 70


    <hr>


    It was a disgusting sensation. Horrifying. If she had to feel the associated pain¡­ well if that were the case, she would leave the Inside and never come back, no matter how enticing the food was. As it was she wondered how Guardian could possibly think that Outsiders would ever voluntarily risk an experience so deeply traumatic.


    Oh god¡­ these things cultivate trauma, she realized.


    She could feel her body thrashing around desperately as her other self tried to break free, but the creatures were heavy, so heavy that she felt the breath squeezing out of her lungs, almost as if the foul things were growing heavier by the moment. She realized that even her right arm, still holding onto the blade of the evil knife somehow and free to flail around ineffectively, was being crushed down against the squirming roots..


    It didn¡¯t make sense to her until she heard the voice.


    ¡°Playtime¡¯s over, kids.¡±


    She heard a crash, several thunderous steps, and then the creatures on top of her were ripped free. She thought she heard one land about twenty or thirty feet away with a rather horrifying squelching snap.


    Her face was still crushed against a thick mat of roots and wood, and she could only turn one eyeball skyward to see the grinning face of her trainer.


    ¡°Hey kid! Punching a little above your weight there, eh?¡±


    There was an uncharacteristic strain in Rosemallow¡¯s voice, despite her casual approach. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t draw breath to reply, even if she had been the one running her voice.


    Probably a good time to merge? her other self suggested.


    There was no need to reply. The process was a bit strange, and took longer than it ever had. Once she was alone in her head again, she understood that her memories had become a bit compartmentalized, and scrambled on top of that.


    ¡°So¡­ this is a weird time to be doing this, but I need you to level up a bunch,¡± her trainer was saying. ¡°I¡¯ve run into a... minor issue with some of the wards here just now. I can¡¯t keep the area suppressed much longer.¡±


    What wards is she talking about? I distinctly remember crushing everything up here. Except the prisoners.


    With that thought, a pang of regret passed through her. Why exactly had she done that? It wasn¡¯t always easy to understand her memories from the Two Minds One Self state, but she could remember a strong urge to free the prisoners and let them feast.


    That doesn¡¯t seem like it came from me.


    She could also remember centuries of a slow existence, the feeling of being cherished, loved and nurtured, obviously lingering remnants from the experiences of the giant tree. With consciousness, the Greatwood had not only become aware of itself, but also aware of what it had lost. And there was one other quality from those foggy memories, a feeling of¡­ connection.


    The Greatwood wasn¡¯t just a home for the Elves. It was connected to them. Is still connected to them. Uh oh.


    Her musings were interrupted by her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1101 EXP Reached: Level 11


    (10 more free points available: 11 total)


    <hr>


    ¡°Quick! Raise Power, Invulnerability, Vitality, Flash, Mana Well, Charm: Plants, and bank the rest,¡± her trainer barked.


    Lilijoy''s thoughts were still a bit muddled. She couldn¡¯t understand what the point was of leveling up at this precise moment. Why didn¡¯t Rosemallow just respawn her? It would hardly be the first time.


    Her hesitation had a strange consequence.


    ¡°Please, kid. Just do it. Do it until it stops.¡± Rosemallow¡¯s voice was almost cracking.


    Until what stops?


    A quick glance at her trainer showed she was no longer grinning. The strain in her voice was now apparent in her face as well. Several blood vessels had ruptured in her left eye.


    Alarmed and confused, Lilijoy pulled up her sheet and made the requested changes and banking the one point left over, while brushing aside at least a dozen other notifications pertaining to her character. Immediately she received a new notification.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1201 EXP Reached: Level 12


    (10 more free points available: 12 total)Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    <hr>


    ¡°Again!¡±


    She repeated the process three more times. Even at her reduced speed it only took a handful of seconds.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1301 EXP Reached: Level 13


    (10 more free points available: 13 total)


    Level Up! 1401 EXP Reached: Level 14


    (10 more free points available: 14 total)


    Level Up! 1501 EXP Reached: Level 15


    (10 more free points available: 15 total)


    <hr>


    She could feel the strength returning to her limbs with each new level. Not enough for her to so much as raise her head off the ground, but enough for her to breath a little more easily. Her System was recovering too, or at least Stage Two was, at about sixty percent coherence and rising. Stage One would require more time, as the smaller flowers and vines wouldn¡¯t regain a sustainable power level for another ninety minutes or so.


    ¡°One more now. Raise Gliding and Acrobatics, then do what you want.¡±


    Do what I want? Now she was very worried about her trainer¡¯s state of mind.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1601 EXP Reached: Level 16


    (10 more free points available: 16 total)


    <hr>


    She raised Acrobatics to Enhanced Journeyman and Gliding/Flight to Upgraded Novice.


    I don¡¯t like where this is going. The only reason she would have me raise Gliding is if¡­


    ¡°All right kid. It may be a while before I see you again. If you survive, try to break the array. If you can¡¯t do that, see if you can help the tree.¡±


    ¡°What array-¡± she began.


    She was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking, and all hell broke loose. Rosemallow released her grip on gravity, and the tree roots and the dhrowgos leapt back into action. Dozens of vials flew through the air and burst all around her, releasing hissing yellow vapor and Lilijoy saw human figures perched all around the edge of the caldera.


    ¡°Restrain the Tier Five.¡± she heard a man say.


    Rosemallow picked her up with one huge hand. Lilijoy juggled the evil knife and had just gotten hold of the non-pointy end when her trainer spoke.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± she said, and hurled Lilijoy into the air with all of her might.


    ***


    Anda breathed a sigh of relief. The fever, or whatever it was, had broken, and Lilijoy¡¯s temperature was rapidly receding. He took away the cold packs and gently wiped the condensation off her pale features.


    Looks like the worst is past. She¡¯s still breathing.


    He could also sense that she was still in communication with a satellite, her connection to the Inside in all likelihood, though he wasn¡¯t in a hurry to make any assumptions. He checked to see if her sensory feed was still available to him, but the window in his display screen was dark, the connection ended.


    Her system¡¯s still working. If I¡¯ve learned anything about Tao System users, it¡¯s that we¡¯re tough as nails, but not indestructible.


    An image of Lilijoy as a Tao System zombie passed through his mind. He could almost see the scene, dropping her off to rejoin her tribe of lost souls, now as a true member, her journey come full circle. His breath hitched a little and he shook his head.


    Let¡¯s see if she¡¯s in there.


    He sent off a quick message. Now all he could do was wait.


    Although¡­ Deva, what would happen if I sent my system elements in directly? he asked his system.


    There¡¯s no explicit data available. Since our system is directly inherited from Lilijoy¡¯s, I would estimate that the odds of a hostile reaction are diminished. Should we try it and see who¡¯s brain melts first? Deva replied.


    This is why I don¡¯t ask you questions anymore.


    Is that a feature or a bug?


    Anda made a disgusted noise. He knew that Deva was some kind of reflection of his own mind, and he wasn¡¯t entirely comfortable with the fact that she was a pain in the ass. He tried again.


    Can you give me some odds?


    No¡­ if we¡¯re going to do something dumb, it¡¯s better not to know.


    Is that your way of saying ¡®don¡¯t tell me the odds?¡¯


    Neglect of probability is a way of life.


    You have no idea, do you?


    Not a clue.


    He sat back. If Lilijoy didn¡¯t reply soon, he needed to know what his options were. Every second he waited, his leverage over the situation was diminishing. He slowed the hovercar to a pace the autopilot could handle and set his system to alert him of anything anomalous from the external world.


    Then he put his forehead against Lilijoy¡¯s and began.


    ***


    Just under twelve seconds.


    Not long ago, it would have been a comfortable amount of time, the equivalent of about six minutes at her fastest thinking speed. In her current state, Lilijoy thought she might have about a third of that time to figure out how she was going to survive a fall of over three hundred meters.


    Thankfully, there were aspects of her thinking that could go much, much faster than that. Certain types of problems and equations could be solved in almost no time at all. Such as her time to fall, factoring in air resistance, once she completed the more parabolic portion of her current journey across the sky. Hopefully the parameters of the equation would change before the ground solved it for her with finality.


    She pushed all thoughts of Rosemallow and arrays from her mind. She needed to figure out how to use her Gliding skill. Without a glider. Otherwise her final velocity would be about seventy miles per hour. Even with her new level of Acrobatics, she knew she couldn¡¯t absorb anything close to that amount of energy merely with good landing technique.


    What would a very low level magical gliding skill do? she asked herself. Hopefully more than just show thermals, or facilitate the kind of calculations I¡¯m already doing. I need to increase my drag, or generate lift, or something.


    She reached the top of the arc of Rosemallow¡¯s throw, leaving the turbulent cloud of mana, miasma, and whatever gas the latest wave of Sinaloa warriors had been adding to the chaos in the caldera behind her. Now the air was clear and the sun shining again, and the forest of Averdale stretched beneath her in all its glory.


    She was even with the tops of the trees nearest to the Greatwood, giants in their own right, now barely shorter than what remained of their superior. Unfortunately, they were far too distant for her to reach. She could also see the Bough of Life and the Bough of Burdens stretching out below her. It was unfortunate she could see both of them, as they were on nearly opposite sides of the trunk, which meant she wasn¡¯t close to either.


    Strategies for survival flashed through her mind, proposed and discarded. Slowing her fall by making her way back to the trunk and using her knife to slow herself would result in a tumbling fall, where she would lose both the knife and her life. The Top was directly on the other side of the trunk, which was a real shame. If Rosemallow had thrown her that direction, she would have a much better chance.


    A message from Anda flashed through her awareness.


    I¡¯m sure it can wait eleven seconds.


    Her real fall was under way now, and the wind was roaring past her ears.


    It¡¯s kind of lame that my gliding skill isn¡¯t higher. Surely I know enough about the subject to at least eke out an Apprentice level. I bet that by the time I hit the ground, I¡¯ll have enough experience. What can I do with only two VP worth of skill mana?


    She pulled what she could from her core and sent it to her left hand, imagining it as a web between her fingers. That took an entire second of real time and didn¡¯t work at all.


    This is useless. A blacksmith can¡¯t use his skill without tools. All I have is a flapping tunic for a glider. I guess I can try working with that.


    She redirected the mana to her garment, trying to imagine that it was catching the wind. Immediately she felt a subtle jerking sensation as the material spread and stiffened, and she knew that she had just¡­ bought herself one more second. And slightly reduced the final speed at which she would become splattered across the massive field of roots below her.


    Still, it was a start. She quickly surveyed her inventory for anything else she could use.


    Rope. Nope. Lots and lots of reeds and grasses ¨C hey, I know, I¡¯ll weave a parachute in the next ten seconds. Extra tunic¡­ can¡¯t hurt.


    Even as she was reaching for the tunic, she had another thought.


    Do I feel lucky?


    She pulled out the Chaotic Gravity Grenade. Thankfully, her inventory provided it immediately.


    <hr>


    Chaotic Gravity Grenade


    Created by a Master Smith and a Grand Master Earth Mage,


    This grenade will randomly change the gravity in a 15


    foot radius from .01x to 3x normal every 5 to 20 seconds.


    Five minutes per charge, one charge remaining.


    <hr>


    She only took a fraction of a second to weigh the odds.


    If I get the low end of the range, and it stays there long enough it could save me. If not, I¡¯ll occupy a slightly larger area when I land. Here goes nothing.


    She sent her mana to the item. Immediately the wind buoyed her up and her velocity began to diminish. She tracked her speed relative to the rapidly approaching ground and ran new calculations over the next second to determine her new fate before celebrating.


    I really did get lucky! This must be around a twentieth of normal gravity. Taking into account my previous velocity, I¡¯ve bought myself almost thirty seconds. Which is great. Except for one small problem¡­the gravity grenade changes every five to twenty seconds. So now I have at least four more seconds to figure out what to do if it goes higher.


    She knew she could just throw it away from her if it went higher than normal, except she really hated to lose Rosemallow¡¯s precious belonging. She had some foggy memory, to the extent that any of her memories were foggy, that you couldn¡¯t put active items or highly energetic processes into inventory; no lit torches, no boiling oil, and certainly no activated Chaotic Gravity Grenades.


    But now she had another option. She quickly moved her knife to her normal inventory and grasped the grenade in the hand with Nandi¡¯s boon. Over the next second, she activated the boon, and saw her hand and the grenade turn white and then fade. Immediately her speed began to pick up, the effects of the grenade now applying to the other dimension, and she hastily reversed the process.


    Yes! Now I just have to hope I can make it low enough before the situation changes again.


    The five second interval passed, then eight, then ten. She almost regretted activating the grenade so soon. If she had waited a bit longer, she could already be on the ground safe and sound. Of course, that would have required foreknowledge of a random number, so she didn¡¯t let it bother her too much. Still, she was now just under a hundred meters up, and if she was forced to abandon the grenade it wouldn¡¯t matter much unless she was much closer than that.


    Most likely, all I¡¯ve done is buy more time.


    She reached over to her inventory with her other hand and pulled forth the extra tunic, knowing it couldn¡¯t possibly be enough to slow her fall if normal gravity kicked in. However, in her current lower gravity, the drag just from holding the tunic noticeably dropped her speed.


    At that moment the grenade flipped its switch, and she felt as if a heavy hand had decided to swat her toward the ground. Even worse, her hold on the spare tunic flipped her body vertical. She moved her hand into the Trial space, dropping the grenade there in her haste as the rest of her body was flung about by the renewed winds rushing around her. Quickly, she released her hold on the extra tunic and stabilized herself, but the damage had been done. Seventy meters to go, and she was right back where she started in terms of her chances of survival.


    Four seconds until splat. Sorry Rosemallow.


    She considered speeding up her subjective time, just to get it over with. What kind of crazy idea could she possibly implement in well under a minute of subjective time? There were no loose ends, no alternate¡­


    Wait¡­ loose ends. The thought triggered a a new idea.


    Why does the glove have a line I can pull from it, since I can just reach in and get what I can feel? And why do I need to feel around? No one would make a magic portal that worked that way. It must be for something else. Maybe...


    She ignored the clock counting down in the background and forced herself to think faster. In a flash she pulled her mana fishing line from the glove and brought it back through her body, up to her face, where she imagined connecting it to her eye. Immediately a view of dirt and thorn bushes filled her view, along with a small pile of her old, lost items from the Trial.


    Well, that doesn¡¯t help much. I wish I could see more than that.


    Immediately, her vision pulled out, and she was looking down on Fort Groveship from high above.


    Nice. So can I see anywhere I want? Grab anything I want? Probably not anything. I¡¯ll have to experiment after I finish splatting and respawning. I wish I could grab a lake, or a haystack to land on.


    What¡¯s the biggest, squishiest thing I could try to bring over?


    She thought it unlikely she could bring anything truly substantial forth to land on, but as she only had about two seconds of real time left there was really no time to examine her idea critically.


    She envisioned the fiery cavern deep below, and her vision spun and dived.


    There. You¡¯ll do nicely.


    She grabbed hold and pulled with all her might, bringing her hand back to her from the Trial space. The next few subjective seconds were a tumbling chaos of horrible squishing and writhing, followed by a prolonged impact and a surprising rebound. She tumbled through the air once more, just able to survey the flattened mass of Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster she had used to cushion her fall.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 23: Viscosity

    Rosemallow watched the tiny form of her student break through the layers of cloud and gas, leaving equally tiny vortexes in her wake.


    Maybe I should have thrown her on to the Top, she mused. Oh well.


    She could only blame the crushing power of the trap she had carelessly entered for her distraction. And for that, she could only blame her own hubris, and possibly the Archon.


    He could have warned me easily enough. Or at least allowed me to use more of my power. Jerk.


    She knew it was foolish to attribute any motive she could understand to the Archon, who was almost omnipotent within his domain. To the extent that she understood him at all, it was through something an Outsider had said to her many years ago.


    Why is there evil in the world? In order to thicken the plot.


    She figured that the Archon was all about plot thickening. She generally appreciated this attitude, as it made her existence much simpler. Struggle abounded everywhere that evil showed its face.


    She pulled herself to her full height and surveyed the situation. The trap had slammed down on her like a ton of bricks as soon as she descended to rescue her student, siphoning her mana and health, crushing down her attributes and restricting her movement. An array with that kind of power had to be the work of multiple Grand Masters, and specifically tailored to boot. She had run across similar setups in Purgatory, often in zones meant to exclude beings above a certain power level. In a sense the entire Garden functioned in that way, but she had never expected to find an array of this sophistication waiting for her in Averdale.


    Now she was stuck in a somewhat enclosed space with around twenty dhrowgos. Under normal circumstances, this would have provided her with a momentary distraction at best, but in the grip of the array-trap surrounding her, she might be in for a rough morning.


    Never mind whatever the Outsiders were doing. So far just throwing potions and watching.


    Let¡¯s see. No mana left. Attributes falling. Limited range of motion. I haven¡¯t felt like this since I was below level fifty.


    Her face broke into a wide grin.


    This is going to be fun!


    ***


    I¡¯ll bet you didn¡¯t see that coming, Lilijoy thought as she pulled herself to her feet and surveyed the enormous corpse in front of her. She looked down at the gem embedded in her palm, then back to the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster she had landed on.


    This is insanely powerful. There must be some kind of limit, something to keep me from bringing over an army of these things. Or dropping entire trees on people. Heck, why not bring the whole fort? I could put it up on a mountain somewhere and use it as a base to send forth my evil minions.


    She may or may not have cackled at this point.


    She had landed somewhere in the middle of the cleared area around the base of the tree. It was still filled with a twisted tangle of roots, though thankfully they seemed to be behaving like roots were supposed to, rather than grabbing everything that moved and conveying it up to the top of the tree.


    That would have been ironic. Landing safely, only to be brought right up there again.


    She hadn¡¯t been terribly worried about that possibility, as she herself had been responsible for most of the root manipulations, borrowing from the skill set she had developed with her midges. She didn¡¯t think the Greatwood was quite capable of controlling so many different parts of itself on its own.


    The sounds of distant combat brought her attention upward.


    It must be crazy up there. Dhrowgos, roots, Sinaloa warriors and a pissed off Rosemallow. Except she didn¡¯t seem to be in good shape at all.


    It was disturbing. Lilijoy would have bet anything that there wasn¡¯t a force in the Garden that could make her trainer even break a sweat if she really let loose. She could only surmise that Doctor Quimea had prepared something special for truly powerful enemies, some array-type trap that covered the entire Greatwood.


    And now she was supposed to break it somehow and rescue her trainer. While she felt sympathy for Rosemallow¡¯s distress, and she suspected that thwarting the purposes of Doctor Quimea could only be a good thing, she had to admit that the prospect of bailing out the mighty Rosemallow was alluring for other, more petty reasons.


    She¡¯ll never be able to live this down. But first I have to find it. And I guess she did rescue me from a really disturbing situation. I owe her for that.


    She knew that time was precious, but she also needed to pull herself together and take stock of her situation. An awful lot had happened in a very small amount of time.


    Hmm. Do I process the fact that I might have damaged my brain, that I just gained six levels, that I have a vastly overpowered artifact in my hand, that I was used by Head Treetouched to give the Greatwood consciousness, and as part of that more-or-less single-handedly destroyed Sinaloa¡¯s century long hold on Averdale, or that I need to find and break an array powerful enough to capture Rosemallow. Who Sinaloa thinks is a Tier Five subset, not that I¡¯m surprised by that, and who just showed up out of the blue to rescue me from horrible corrupted elf-creatures who reached under my skin and ripped out a good chunk of my stats for the next twenty-four hours.


    It occurred to her that she might need time to process the sheer amount of things she needed to process.


    Oh, and I forgot that I need to think about my conversation with Doctor Quimea, and decide for the time being whether it matters if the Outside is part of a greater simulation. And whether the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster is still alive because its tentacles are moving, and..oh holy crap. I need to run!


    Thoughts of matters trivial and profound fled from her mind as the nightmare she had brought forth from the Trial began to gather itself up and move toward her, tentacles reaching out to grasp exposed roots as it pulled itself along the ground. A faint layer of steam, or smoke rose from its¡­ skin-like surface everywhere it was exposed to the bright morning sun.


    Lilijoy turned and began running clumsily, stumbling from root to root, heading to the forest. Her motor cortex was still a hot mess, and there had been no time to address the issue. Logging out wasn¡¯t an option, due to the fact that she was in a contested space, even if the Tentacle Monster was somehow friendly, or her minion, or something along those lines. She had her doubts about those possibilities, as she felt no connection of any kind to the creature.


    So that¡¯s the first limitation. Things I summon might want to eat me. Maybe even me in particular. I¡¯ll have to check that with one of those small lizards. I¡¯m pretty sure I can handle those guys.


    As she ran, she surveyed the state of her system. Upon finding that Stage Two was close to entirely recovered, she split her mind, adding her Jiannu self back to the situation. There was no need for a discussion. Jiannu began to refine the previous work addressing her damaged motor cortex, and Lilijoy continued to stumble-run. The Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster was gaining slowly, though it was clearly suffering in the sunlight, and having difficulty navigating its mass through the maze of looped and twisting roots.


    Just like old times. I probably got most of my starting Flash thanks to you. Or your relative. Guess we¡¯ve both ¡®fallen¡¯ on hard times since then. Ha. Ha.


    There was a bit of a punchy feeling in her head, a sense of detachment, which she assumed came from being absolutely overwhelmed by events in every way. Either that, or Jiannu was using most of their shared processing power. If she was, it was to good effect; after just a few seconds she began to feel a bit more coordinated, and soon she had pulled ahead by a good margin. She was almost disappointed not to hear the creature¡¯s forlorn wail. Almost.


    It occurred to her that if the Tentacle Monster lived, it would be more than happy in the ecological niche once occupied by the near extinct Dangling Creepers. Perhaps she had done a good thing by bringing it to a new home.


    What could possibly go wrong? I bet the elves will throw me a parade if they ever come back. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll love what I¡¯ve done to the place.


    Soon she was making her way through heavy thorn hedges and briers, this time with no convenient path to follow. Several times she was forced to pull out the evil knife and hack her way through, a task that caused it to radiate contempt for her life choices.


    ¡°Look, I already fed you,¡± she told it. ¡°A little sap never hurt anyone.¡±


    It twisted sullenly in her hand.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like you have any choice in the matter. Still...¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    She squeezed a few drops of blood from one of her latest thorn lacerations onto the knife.


    ¡°¡­ I guess we¡¯re in this together. Just don¡¯t go expecting me to organize any mass sacrifices.¡±


    She continued on through the dense growth, clearing out her notifications as she went. Most of them were about some status effect or another, many no longer applicable. She winced as she saw that her Kinesthetic Awareness had been reduced all the way down to four initially, though it had since bounced back to twenty-two.


    Wow. So this is what it feels like to be average? I sure hope I can get that damage repaired.


    There were also all the temporary hits to her other stats to clear out, and the too-little-too-late notification of gaining Initiate in Gliding. But the most exciting bit of news was the new title she had received.


    <hr>


    You have been granted a Title:


    Awakener


    +5 to all Charm Traits


    <hr>


    She had some mixed feelings about the bonuses to Charm though. It was great, of course, worth forty free points, four entire levels worth. It was hard to put her finger on why it bothered her; maybe just that she didn¡¯t need all those points in Charm: People, didn¡¯t want to be a manipulator. Even charming animals felt like it might not be something she would like. She¡¯d rather gain their trust normally, or just let them be.


    Still, getting all those free points made her feel just fine about spending the nine points she had left from her leveling extravaganza. Since Rosemallow had told her to do what she wanted, she raised her Hand Weaving skill a notch, and then, more practically, raised her Unarmed Combat.


    When she was done, she looked over her character sheet.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 16


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Awakener


    Free Points: 22* (2 + 20 Direct)


    HP: 75


    Natural Traits


    STR: 16/23 (20 effective)


    END: 54/59


    SPD: 57 (177 effective)


    KA: 22/152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 5/18 (+25% STR)


    INV: 41


    VIT: 5/20


    FLASH: 42 (+210% SPD)


    MW: 79/129


    MG: 10%/100 Sec.


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 33


    Earth: 60


    Water: 30


    Air: 28


    Charm:


    People: 34


    Plants: 78


    Animals: 67


    Abilities


    Scan III (Universal)


    Echolocation IV (Uncommon)


    Infrared Vision III (Uncommon)


    Low Light Vision II (Common)


    Two Minds One Self (-) (Unique)


    Earthen Sense I (Very Rare)


    Mana Manipulation (Rare)


    Skills (VP)


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Nature: Plants: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Unarmed Combat: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Acrobatics: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Stealth: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Medical/Healing: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Climbing: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Deception: Augmented Apprentice (6)


    Hand Weaving: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Meditation: Natural Journeyman (4)


    Gliding/Flight: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Weapons: Projectile: Sling: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Teaching: Natural Initiate (2)


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1)


    Dance: Natural Novice (1)


    <hr>


    It felt good to see so many changes, though the lingering effects of the dhrowgos¡¯ drains were annoying. As she continued hacking her way through the tangles, one last thought occurred to her.


    Oh, wait¡­ wasn¡¯t there a message from Anda somewhere?


    ***


    Anda patiently guided a small group of his flowers into Lilijoy¡¯s brain. Initially, he had been a little reluctant to think of them as ¡®flowers¡¯, but he had to admit that the radial symmetry and elongated flowing petals made a convincing case for the label. He was only using a small amount of the flexible nanobots, a few thousand carefully conveyed into her left eye, and from there to the optic canal.


    It was a very different experience from maneuvering through his own anatomy. There, everything was mapped out, and the combined input from hundreds of thousands of nanobots created a vivid sense of presence wherever he chose to wander. Moving into Lilijoy''s brain was still better than his previous system, which had kept the user at a much greater degree of remove. With his old system, there was far less focus on the anatomical realities, and much more on the function. You could tell it what to do, and, if it could do it, then it took care of the rest. If it couldn¡¯t, then you were out of luck. As far as he could tell so far, the only limitations on the Tao System were know-how, imagination and effort.


    He was pretty sure he had the last two, though who doesn¡¯t think they have imagination? There were still times he felt the burden of his preconceptions weighing on his creativity, mostly every time he was around Lilijoy.


    Midges, of all things.


    It wasn¡¯t long before his probe had reached the cerebral cortex. He pursed his lips as he surveyed the damage.


    Could be worse. Could be much worse. No major zones of cell necrosis. Cytokines are pretty bad though. Where are her bugs?


    Anda would have expected this part of her brain to be swarming with flowers addressing the damage. After a few seconds he found one, dim and barely able to overcome the viscosity of the extracellular fluid. Soon he found others, all similarly feeble.


    Deva, what do you make of this? he asked.


    Their power reserves are low. Given time, they will regenerate.


    Anda pushed his curiosity about exactly how that was accomplished aside. There was a more important question.


    How long will it take?


    About an hour and a half to regain reasonable functionality.


    That was bad. The body¡¯s reaction to a brain injury could be far more dangerous than the injury itself.


    What about defense mechanisms? Will our bugs cause any problems? Immune response?


    The primary defenses are found in the Stage One units. As they are currently non-functional, that won¡¯t be an area of concern for some time. Only Stage Two units provoke immune reactions.


    All right, then. We¡¯re going in.


    Anda leaned his head on Lilijoy¡¯s and marshaled his forces.


    ***


    Rosemallow spun and clubbed the Dhrowgos with the body of the Outsider she was holding. Or was it the other way around? Honestly, she had lost track some time ago as her vision faded and she became lost in the frenzy of battle. The Outsiders had thrown one alchemical solution after another into the area, no doubt in an attempt to find one that would bring her down.


    So far they had been unsuccessful, though she was blind, dizzy, weakened and taking steady damage from something she had inhaled.


    Sure wish I¡¯d raised my Vitality a bit more, she thought.


    Thankfully, most of the magic attacks were fire and earth based, her strongest affinities, and she didn¡¯t need vision to track her many opponents.


    How many have I thrown off the tree now? Thirty? That sounds about right. I¡¯d really like to get out of this without a respawn, but the little boogers just keep coming. I haven¡¯t been on the wrong side of a boss fight for ages. I¡¯d forgotten how annoying it is. Shouldn¡¯t this be about when the groups in the forest realize that most of Sinaloa¡¯s defenses are down?


    An arrow hit her in the leg and bounced off, simultaneous with the crack of its release.


    Stupid supersonic arrows.


    She hurled the body in the general direction of the archer, and cast about for a new weapon. She¡¯d lost her club the first time they brought her down using some type of electrified net. Her enemy must have taken it, though she was a bit surprised they had anyone who could even lift it.


    Come on, where¡¯d all the tanks go? I need someone with a little more heft than that last guy.


    The immediate area was empty of opponents, though she could hear them all around her.


    ¡°What are you waiting for?!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for a very long time,¡± came a voice.


    Not this guy again. Mr. Charm.


    ¡°I know what you are,¡± he continued. ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m a little disappointed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll dress up nicer next time,¡± she replied, watching her health slowly dwindle. ¡°It¡¯s a nice trap you built. I¡¯ll have to incorporate it into my training methods.¡±


    This was the second conversation she had with this guy. The first one he had wasted his breath trying to convince her that he only wanted to talk.


    No wonder the Archon sent me and not Ani. He¡¯d have talked the guy¡¯s ears off. Wish he¡¯d sent Masgret instead. That¡¯s a conversation I¡¯d pay good money to see.


    ¡°Are all the Tier Five as resistant to reason?¡± he inquired.


    ¡°First of all, they¡¯re called Gongen. And if I was one, you¡¯d be very wise to put away your toys and go home.¡±


    ¡°And why would I be inclined to do so?¡±


    ¡°Because Gongen have another source of power beyond Mana.¡±


    His voice became excited. ¡°Tell me more.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve said enough. Just something to keep in mind.¡±


    ¡°You must understand that it is futile to continue this struggle.¡±


    Rosemallow allowed herself a smile that showed her magnificent teeth.


    ¡°Struggle is never futile.¡±


    With a roar, she charged back into action.


    ***


    It was another thirty minutes before Lilijoy reached the cool dark of the woods.


    I¡¯m lucky to have Anda watching over me, she thought.


    Anda had been very upset with her for not respawning and logging out immediately.


    Already, she could feel the effects of his efforts on her behalf. Not only was he using a huge number of his flowers to help minimize the damage to her brain, but he had contributed a full dose of normal med-bugs to supplement their activities. She winced a little as she recalled their conversation though.


    ¡°You know perfectly well that every second counts with a brain injury. What were you thinking?¡± he had asked. This had been one of many cogent points he had delivered in a well deserved tirade addressed to her apparent irresponsibility.


    Lilijoy had no good answer for him, and the more she considered this, the more it bothered her. What had she been thinking? Granted, it wasn¡¯t like her mind was firing on all cylinders, but as she had vastly more cylinders than a normal person, that wasn¡¯t much of an excuse. It called for serious introspection.


    What do you think, Jiannu?


    It all made sense at the time, her alter-ego replied. I remember feeling that our immediate concerns were more important. That everything was going to be fine.


    I know. There was a feeling of lightness and...


    Clarity, Jiannu finished for her.


    Do you think it¡¯s because we believed the Doctor at some level?


    No, I know we don¡¯t. Or rather, if we did, it wouldn¡¯t change our behavior.


    It just seems like that feeling of clarity might have been false, an illusion or something. And that means¡­


    They both knew what it probably was, but Jiannu said it.


    We were forced to run our consciousness entirely in Stage Two, and it changed our priorities and how we feel. Changed us.


    But we¡¯re still mostly in Stage Two. It doesn''t feel that different.


    It doesn¡¯t mean that we can¡¯t exercise reason, or that we don¡¯t have continuity. We just need to be more careful, like someone who doesn¡¯t feel pain around a hot stove.


    In this state, we¡¯re missing some emotional alarm bells. Urgency.


    Even healthy fear.


    That should worry us...


    Shouldn¡¯t it?

 Book 2.5: Chapter 24: Nyam

    Lilijoy put aside her internal dialog and related musings. Anda had everything under control, and she had her own mission; find the array, break it somehow, and then help the tree, whatever that meant.


    Now, If I were Sinaloa, where would I put an immensely powerful array that surrounds the entire Greatwood?


    Not knowing much on the subject, it seemed like the trees would be the best place to start. The Doctor had had many decades to get everything in place and perfected, though it was quite likely that some form of his trap was there from the very beginning. She quickly scanned through her memory of the various arrays she had seen.


    The only one she had examined carefully was the mana suppressing array, which was those odd metal sign things. She could also clearly remember some of the other objects that were probably parts of the larger arrays in the tree-caldera. There had been stone monoliths, triangular flags, and some kind of wooden totem-pole looking things. If arrays could take on so many different forms, she might not even recognize what she was looking at when she found it, at least not until she found more than one of the components.


    It was possible, even likely that the components were hidden; camouflaged, buried, the possibilities were endless.


    The one thing I know for sure is that it¡¯s currently active.


    Somehow, against all common sense, she could hear the faint sounds of battle drifting over from the top of the Greatwood. There was still time for her to make a difference for her trainer.


    She climbed the closest tree, thankful for the handholds provided by the bark, while regretting the lack of claws or any kind of other tools.


    If I fall, I can always summon another monster to fall on. Maybe a giant lizard this time?


    Continuing an internal debate about the pros and cons of using various creatures as landing pads, she made her way to the top of the tree and looked across to the Greatwood. Various colored smokes were rising into the air and bubbling over the sides, making the whole thing look more like a skinny volcano than ever.


    Lilijoy surveyed the scene, looking for differences in concentration or any other pattern in the ambient mana that might guide her to the array. She allowed her eyes to relax and take it all in without rushing herself, making use of the calm focus her system seemed so eager to provide. Seconds of subjective time drifted by, then minutes, but only vague differences in the mana gradients appeared, and she had no way of knowing if they had any significance.


    If I had a few weeks to train this skill, looking at a variety of settings that I understood well, then I might be able to use this, she thought. I¡¯m sure there must be an ability hiding from me.


    She thought back to gaining her Mana Manipulation ability. That had been the culmination of a several days of experimentation and development, longer than that if she counted her first fledgling steps to find her Qi and Prana.


    Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind once more, less to continue her sensory activities and more to release her thoughts, to meditate without grasping at the problem.


    Meditate. That¡¯s how I¡¯ve always interacted with ambient mana until today, using my Meditation skill to enhance my gathering.


    She closed her eyes and reached out to the mana in her immediate vicinity, the familiar sea of luminescence. When she meditated for the purpose of gathering mana she shut out all her other senses, allowing the subliminal to cross the threshold of her imagination and become tangible. Now, instead of pulling it into her core, she simply allowed herself to perceive the energy, following it out from her body as far as she could, using the limited understanding she had gained from the midges¡¯ sense to look for gradients and timbres.


    Then she opened her eyes and tried to maintain the experience. There was a brief overlap, so subtle that she couldn¡¯t tell if it was a lingering memory of perception, and then her eyes were drawn to the light and sky and leaves of the world surrounding her and the vision from her meditation was gone.


    Seeing is a strong habit, she realized. My expectations are more powerful than the vague possibility of what I¡¯m attempting. Either that, or it¡¯s not a thing at all.


    She tried several more times, with no hint of improvement. Time was rolling by gently, and she knew that she should be feeling¡­ something. Concerned? Frustrated? But she didn¡¯t feel those things. She felt as if a hundred years could pass. Rosemallow would win, or not. Sinaloa would return, or not. The seasons would change, people would grow and die, and the new minds would have their own thoughts and all that she was in this moment would be the smallest atom of concern, whether she made a difference or not, and what tiny difference there was would only fade. She felt light, as the responsibility for acting was taken from her shoulders by the inevitable erosion of time, and-


    Lilijoy! Jiannu interrupted. You¡¯re falling into the Stage Two trap. Stop being all wise and enlightened, or we¡¯ll never figure out how to find the array.


    Lilijoy watched Jiannu¡¯s words float through her mind with detachment.


    Oh, for crying out loud, Jiannu said. She wasn¡¯t too concerned, as this state would naturally resolve itself in time. Their organic brain was in a state similar to a deep coma, but she felt it would be easy to remedy once the worst of the damage had been addressed.


    She could feel Lilijoy¡¯s serenity beckoning.


    ***


    ¡°How can you possibly still be resisting?¡±


    The annoying man¡¯s voice was tinged with respect, though Rosemallow was beyond hearing it. Her awareness was condensed to a fine point of rage and pain. Pain that she welcomed as the very proof of her existence, exalted as the force that allowed life to persist within the universe. Pain was foundation, the very ground beneath her feet, separating her from the meaningless abyss.


    And rage. Rage was the fiery engine that propelled her.


    She pulled herself to her feet as she sensed the stone pooling around her and stumbled toward the annoying sound. The sheer idiocy of trying to capture an earth mage of her capabilities with stone fueled her anger, but it was nothing next to the growing frustration of her would-be captors as a source of delicious inspiration.


    Part of her hoped it would never end.


    She felt thin bones crack as her foot plunged through the rib cage of a fallen dhrowgos. Those poor creatures had learned the wrong lesson from their captivity, though she couldn¡¯t blame them. After all, pain and suffering relied on their opposites to define their form; it was only later on the Path that those contradictory principles would resolve into joyous battle.


    She kicked the corpse into the air with her foot and released a roar that shook the heavens as she heard her enemy¡¯s cry of surprise and pain.


    ***


    Lilijoy lost herself in bliss as she surveyed the mana around her. Fields of pale colors floated and trembled, rippled and flowed into one another. Though her eyes were closed, she could see the way her surroundings transfused the energy with different flavors of vitality. The fresh green of life mingled with the pale luminosity of wind, while the heat of the sun¡¯s rays added sparks of saturation to the pastel clouds.


    A thought drifted to her mind, a worthy thought that kindled momentary curiosity.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Why aren¡¯t I using more senses for this experience?


    She decided it was well worth thinking about. Vision was an artifact of her evolutionary past, a strength but also a boundary, as her earlier difficulty maintaining the meditative view of the surrounding mana had determined. Why should she allow herself to be limited by her genetic heritage in this way? Her experiences with developing and unifying her senses in the simulated reality of the Inside and her newest explorations of the midge¡¯s sensory world were available to her, so why did her imagination lean so strongly on the crutch of light?


    In the past, she had turned off her external vision, really little more than a more thorough form of eye closing. Now she went further, and blocked all the parts of her system related to sight, external and internal.


    There was a moment of profound emptiness as her mind lost most of the connection to a host of metaphors and memories. She had never realized the extent to which the visual system was used in multiple ways by her language centers. It wasn¡¯t losing a central hub, but was rather like a call to a reference that returned a null value.


    She ignored that, and turned her focus to the mana around her, learning its smells, sounds and tastes. She had encounter some of these earlier in her synesthetic experiences with the ambient mana of the former torture garden, but now she was free of even the conceptual distraction offered by vision.


    At first, she could only sense her external environment, the spice of tree sap, the faint smells of grass and char carried by the breeze. That same wind rushed past her ears, and carried the sounds of the forest, and the information that her echolocation used to understand space and size.


    She filtered out all those impressions and stretched her imagination toward the sour citrus of wood Prana and the warmth of the sun upon imaginary skin stretched in three dimensions all around her. She heard the pure notes of a singing glass from within her body, and then from the branch she rested on, and from the air all around. Her spatial sense struggled to process the information, and she turned to what she had learned from the midges, without rainbows or light, but instead the sense of gradients unfolding in time and timbre, as all of her other primary senses combined, and she recruited still more, now using the internal senses, and her body felt hot and cold in a map that resembled the mana-filled space around her, and her proprioception expanded so that her fingers were air, and her feet were earth and she felt her body made of mana, moving and dancing through space, expanded and formless.


    She realized that she could dissolve into this, release her body entirely and abandon her flesh, and it would be as easy as all the other times she had died.


    Then came a call. The sound of roaring thunder pushed aside all the pale impressions she had gathered and filled her senses, her being, inside and out, this cry swept her up and tumbled her over and over, a feeling in her chest, in her gut, a raw power that made it clear to her how little she understood about senses, how words could hold and conceal truth, that an emotion was felt in her body the same way the mana was felt by her senses, and the word ¡®feel¡¯ was both true and false, for now she was perceiving a powerful magic that slapped her face and made her feel fierce and determined, and changed the entire universe because it changed how she felt.


    She opened her eyes and returned to her senses as Rosemallow¡¯s battle cry still lingered over the barren fields.


    Jiannu?


    She called the name once, before realizing they had merged at some point in her¡­ in whatever that was.


    Stage Two-itis. What the hell was that? Awesome and awful at the same time. I think I could have¡­ died? Maybe? Rosemallow¡¯s call did something. Was something. I¡¯ve never felt anything like that.


    Now how do I find that array without losing myself again?


    She decided to try and use more of her organic brain. It wasn¡¯t so much that her biological tissues weren¡¯t working, as that the frontal lobes in particular were powered down. They served as a kind of clearing house for organizing the signals from many other parts of her brain that were still functioning to some extent, which made her wonder if she couldn¡¯t reroute some of the signals from, say, her amygdala, and regain a reasonable level of anxiety.


    I never thought I would want more anxiety in my life. I never thought a lot of things though, so that hardly means anything at all anymore.


    Soon, her hands were shaking, and she was sweating, and she felt horrible. But it was better than the alternative, at least when she had to get stuff done.


    Oh crap. I¡¯ve got to find that array yesterday. What the hell was I thinking? Real smart, Lilijoy.


    She felt a tear run down her face. Felt a memory of fingers underneath her skin, and saw an image of Jessila¡¯s pained smile as Magpie sliced her throat.


    She got to her feet, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach. She looked out over the cleared area, up to the sky and the top of the Greatwood stump, trying to see the ambient mana yet again.


    Scenes from her past kept flashing before her eyes, intruding and breaking her concentration. Tearing at a dog¡¯s crushed face with her teeth. The feeling of beating a man¡¯s head with a hammer over and over. She knew it was her system, or rather the crude way she had wired her Stage Two consciousness directly to the darkest parts of her primal brain, but she couldn¡¯t control it, didn¡¯t have time to figure out a healthy balance.


    What would I be without the system protecting me all the time? Would I be like this, a wreck, unable to function? At least I can have a nervous breakdown way faster than most people. I¡¯ve got to pull it together.


    She took a deep breath and calmed herself as best she could, then set aside a part of Stage Two and split herself. One part connected to her primal fear, the other was free from bodily attachment. Light and dark, swirled and balanced.


    We¡¯ve got to work together, Lilijoy thought.


    I understand what to do, the other Lilijoy thought.


    I¡¯m worried that we¡¯re too different. What if we can¡¯t merge? What if we get stuck like this?


    That¡¯s our amygdala talking. If I turn into a floaty flake again, you know what to do.


    This sucks. I hate this.


    It¡¯ll be fine. Now get moving.


    Lilijoy climbed down until she found a branch that led to another tree. She ran along that as fast as she could, which was far slower than she would have preferred. Still, it felt good to move, to act, and that sense of actually doing something helped take the edge off. She knew her other self, Light Lilijoy was how she had decided to think of her, was meditating, feeling the mana around them as she moved through the trees, looking for anything different, anything¡­


    I¡¯ve got a crazy idea, Light Lilijoy said.


    I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s my department, she replied.


    Ha ha. I want to spend two free points and raise Meditation to Upgraded.


    But Professor Anaskafius said that wouldn¡¯t do anything.


    I said it was a crazy idea. It¡¯s only two points.


    Do what you want. I¡¯m going to keep running.


    ***


    Light Lilijoy pulled up her character sheet and raised Meditation before she could second-guess herself.


    I guess Dark Lilijoy already did, so would it be third-guessing?


    Then she dropped back into the world of ambient mana, hoping, searching for the difference she thought only she could see. And it was there.


    Kind of.


    She had been hoping that the scope of the area she could draw on would change in some way. After all, the primary limit on Mana Gathering wasn¡¯t the ambient mana, at least not that she¡¯d ever heard. It was the practitioner''s ability to absorb the mana that determined how much they could gather in a certain amount of time. Who would even notice if they were gathering from a wider area when the end result was identical?


    She was pretty sure that it would take someone with senses quite like hers to notice the difference. She couldn¡¯t rule out some race of midge-people on the Inside, but if there was, and they noticed the difference, then they weren¡¯t talking. Probably because it still wouldn¡¯t help them gather more mana.


    As it turned out, the area of the gathering didn¡¯t change much, perhaps growing by a few percent, but her ability to change the shape of the area did. Now she could project it around her in more of a parabola, and by revolving that long oval shape, she could examine a much larger swath of the territory her other self was moving through.


    It was a completely useless skill, unless you happened to be sensitive enough to find differences in mana gradients and thus be able to detect areas where the ambient mana was altered in some way. It was enough to make her wonder what the actual intent of the skill was. Could someone at an extremely high level gather all the mana from a very small area, say, the immediate vicinity of a spell or an enemy? How practical could that possibly be?


    She decided it was a problem for another day, and concentrated all her efforts to using her new skill. Soon enough, she noted a distinct¡­ slope to the mana around her, and began to guide her other self lower, and then lower still, until they were back on the dark, knotted ground.


    She searched between the towering trunks in an ever narrowing pattern, until at last she found something, a spiraling tower of condensed mana shooting into the sky, leaning away from the Greatwood.


    Um, Light Lilijoy, there¡¯s something- her other self began to say


    Shh, I know, just hold on a second, I want to figure out-


    It¡¯s moving.


    She dropped her meditative state with a mild sigh, and looked with Dark Lilijoy¡¯s eyes.


    Her other self continued. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re the first ones to find it.


    Draped around the barest outline of a squat obelisk was a faintly luminescent pile of yellow goo. Waving tendrils reached out from it as if trying to grasp the air.


    Yay! A great slime mold. They¡¯re not extinct! she thought. This is going to be so easy. I¡¯ll just use my ability and-


    Just in front of her, a patch of earth sunk between two mighty roots began to move and fluoresce. And then she became aware that the forest floor was coming alive all around her, like stars fighting through the last light of day, patches of dim yellow light were emerging from the dark ground.


    Before she could say anything, her other self released a cry of pure frustration and rage, a pale echo of Rosemallow¡¯s battle cry and began to run toward the obelisk, pulling out her ironwood cudgel as she went.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 25: Emergent

    I appreciate the sentiment, really I do, said light Lilijoy. But I wonder if you¡¯ve thought this through.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t pause in her headlong attack and quickly reached the obelisk and its slimy yellow companion.


    She began to hit the obelisk through the slime mold, accentuating each blow with a word. <whack> ¡°I¡¯m <whack> so <whack> sick <whack> and <whack> tired <whack> of <whack> thinking!¡±


    Little streaks of yellow light splattered from her club, but the overall effect was unimpressive. The great slime mold ignored the attacks completely and continued to flail its liquid limbs at the air above her head.


    ¡°What is wrong with you?!¡± She let loose a strangled scream as she continued to flail.


    Who are you talking to? asked Light Lilijoy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± she replied aloud. ¡°The world. People. This stupid slime.¡±


    Myself.


    She let the club fall to her side and looked around. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of yellow glowing blobs were slowly converging on her location.


    ¡°I just wanted to break this thing before the rest of these things got here. I don¡¯t see what¡¯s so great about them.¡±


    The slime molds weren¡¯t particularly threatening. For one, they moved at a slow crawl, and even the one Lilijoy had been beating on made no move to attack or defend, or react to her presence in any way.


    Maybe these are the below-average slime molds, Light Lilijoy suggested. In the meantime, how about we find something from the Trial Space to destroy this obelisk? I was thinking some lava might work. Uh...also, you should probably stop talking out loud. There could still be patrols out here.


    Fine. I think these stupid neurochemicals are making me a little impulsive, she answered.


    There was no reply, so she turned her attention to Nandi¡¯s Boon, pulling the white mana from her core and¡­


    There¡¯s a problem.


    I see. Second limitation: cool-down period, Light Lilijoy said.


    That or we broke it.


    Let¡¯s go with cool-down. Be nice if it came with instructions.


    I¡¯m beginning to wonder if Nandi cultivates infuriating impenetrability more than joyful anticipation.


    We¡¯ve barely even thought about his riddle. Master of five eyes? What¡¯s that all about?


    Focus. We need to break this stupid array thing. Hitting it was fun, but it didn¡¯t do anything.


    We don¡¯t have the boon at the moment, and these slime molds seem harmless.


    I know. If they used acid or something, maybe it would be worth trying to merge with them, see if we could get them to attack it.


    They seem to really like it. Do you think that they eat the mana?


    That¡¯s most likely. They remind me of the mandala creatures.


    She felt her other self make the connection, at the same time she did.


    Time to become one with the slime¡­


    ***


    Nykka stood in the main chamber of the enormous building that had once been Las Lajas Cathedral, still processing the events previous to her forced eviction from the Inside. The space had long been stripped of benches and ornaments, though it retained the graceful curves and delicate columns. The paint on the cross-arched ceiling had peeled off and fallen to the floor decades ago, swept up by generations of prospective initiates, and the stained glass windows were boarded over. The back wall of the space was the natural rock of the river gorge, and over the years it had wept and seeped, causing the inset shrine to crumble and mold.


    The space was used for assembly, or training when the rains fell, and Nykka could almost hear the shouts and voices echoing through the air. But now it was silent, aside from the humming of the bright, white lights that were arrayed throughout the space. Silent, but not empty, for well over fifty people stood motionless, or perhaps swaying to an imagined breeze, facing every direction with tranquil visages and unfocused eyes.


    The Southern Sanctuary compound was abuzz with the news of Averdale. It was being characterized as temporary setback, but she knew it was far more than that.


    During the brief interval between her expulsion and the Doctor¡¯s subsequent return to the Inside, several facts had come to light. Disturbing facts that had forced her to reconsider everything she thought she knew about the relationship between the two worlds. The Doctor had taken everything in stride, as was usual for him. In fact, Nykka was fairly sure that he was pleased, or at least excited by what seemed to be lingering effects on everyone who had been logged in to Averdale when the disaster struck.


    Nykka was just glad that her system had certain safeguards built into it, or she was fairly sure she would have been impacted in the same way as the others.


    Treetouched.


    Of course, everyone knew what it was, whether they had met Runk in the Trial, or heard about the Head of the Academy. It was a curse, an affliction that showed up here and there on the Inside, and it wasn¡¯t terribly well understood. Not that anyone she knew had ever bothered to try to understand it; after all, it never affected Outsiders.


    Until now.


    What everyone knew for sure was that it caused the subject to sprout leaves and twigs, to become peaceful, slow and patient. Nykka had heard that Head Treetouched had literally become a tree, or several trees; the story varied according to who was telling it. Now, all those who had been logged in to Averdale had the same story. They had each received a notification on their internal awareness along the lines of¡­


    <hr>


    Condition Acquired!


    You have been granted a Title!


    Treetouched


    The spirits of the forest have imbued your soul with their essence.


    Effects:


    Passive: You may not attack in combat


    Calm: Aggressive emotions dampened


    Diurnal: You will only be conscious in sunlight or equivalent.


    STR +50%


    END +60%


    SPD ¨C80%


    KA ¨C80%


    INV +100%


    VIT +100%


    Fire Affinity -80%


    Earth Affinity +100%


    Water Affinity +25%


    Air Affinity +10%


    Charm: People -90%


    Charm: Animals +20%


    Charm: Plants +100%


    <hr>


    She had seen several such notifications, provided quite willingly by those afflicted. As far as Titles went, it was both unusual and extreme. Unusual due to the percentage-based bonuses and detriments, and extreme due to the sheer scope and size of the effects. Such an impact on so many individuals went far beyond anything that she had ever heard of, but that wasn¡¯t what had caused her to feel so unmoored by the situation.


    What caused her to question the very reality of her surroundings, to seriously consider whether the Doctor¡¯s theories had borne out, were the dozens of placidly smiling men and women standing in place around the brightly lit room in front of her. She knew most of them, knew that many of them hadn¡¯t allowed such an expression to cross their face since they were old enough to lift a weapon. She watched Lieutenant Gon, who had ruled Averdale with an iron fist for twenty years, gently sway back and forth, humming to herself.


    ¡°How are you feeling, Lieutenant Gon?¡± Nykka asked.


    The woman looked back at her with dark, placid eyes. Scars from a lifetime of close-quarter combat crossed her face, marks that Nykka knew were kept as a badge of honor and a tool for intimidation. After several seconds, she responded.


    ¡°Good. Calm.¡±


    ¡°Do you still hear the trees?¡±


    Another long pause. ¡°Yes. No.¡± The woman stared down at Nykka with her head slightly cocked, as if still trying to understand the question.


    Nykka kept her patience. ¡°What did the trees tell you?¡±


    The woman smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t need to fight anymore.¡±


    Nykka shook her head. She had been moving around the room asking the same basic questions and getting the same answers for twenty minutes now.


    ¡°Do you understand what happened to you?¡±


    ¡°The angry tree ate my anger.¡±


    They were all the same. Slow moving, placid placeholders for the people they used to be. Doctor Quimea was of the opinion that the effects would slowly subside over several days, that what she was seeing were the residual effects of an immensely powerful Charm attack. The very attack that had caused her system to log her off.


    She had rarely been more thankful to be the Doctor¡¯s guinea pig. Her system had its flaws, but at least it helped her avoid most of the restrictions common to all systems designed on the Inside. Much like Attaboy¡¯s seemed to.


    I wonder how he¡¯s doing? I hope he¡¯s stayed in the cave like I told him. It¡¯s going to be a while before I can move him. I don¡¯t know which is worse, the dumb kid who doesn¡¯t understand the danger, or the smart one who thinks he can handle it.


    She had tried to keep in regular communication with him, though she was extremely reluctant to use her system to talk to him when he was Inside. It felt dangerous, doing something that no one else even thought possible. The only other person she could communicate with like that was Doctor Quimea, and he had made it very clear that she was only to use it in situations of dire emergency.


    I bet I could talk to the girl too. I wish she had taken the card. I wonder what happened to her? Did she cause all this somehow?


    Nykka knew she was walking a very fine line. Removing Attaboy from the Doctor¡¯s control had been the right thing to do, but it had also served her own interests nicely. After all, if the Doctor gained control of a legacy system more powerful than his own, he would hardly have a need for her anymore. Similarly, if she could replace her system with whatever Attaboy and the girl were using, she could finally get out from under Doctor Quimea¡¯s thumb.


    The risk though, was substantial. Her system was designed to need renewal every couple months, or the individual components would begin to self-destruct. If the Doctor ever caught on to her betrayal, he wouldn¡¯t even need to capture her in order to see her punished. Years ago, he had let her system begin to die within her brain, just so she would know exactly how horrible her existence could be if she displeased him.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Horrible was an understatement. Her senses had failed in a cataclysm of hallucination, and her very mind had broken into psychotic fragments. It had taken her months to recover, even with the help of her restored abilities.


    She was ten years old at the time. It had been the first, and so far only, time she had experienced life without her system. The system she had been given in her mother¡¯s womb. She was the miracle, the only one of hundreds, even thousands, to make it to something approaching adulthood, of all those gifted with the Doctor¡¯s legacy.


    The Doctor thought her survival was due to her other condition, the mutation that weakened her immune system and impaired her body¡¯s natural ability to transport melanin. That was her other major fear, as she approached child-bearing age, that she was intended to become the mother to the next generation of experiments. The only saving grace in all of this was that the system Quimea had designed and implanted in her was every bit as secure and powerful as his own, without the multitude of back doors and exploits present in the other systems he had designed and built for Sinaloa. Unlike those, her system had been designed and built entirely on the Outside, away from Guardian¡¯s interference, modeled upon the original system the Doctor had engineered before the rise of Guardian.


    This was the Doctor¡¯s secret, the air-gapped laboratory that had survived the tribulations, the same laboratory where generations of mind altering nanobots had been designed and built in the days of Sinaloa¡¯s rise to power as a purveyor of dreams and ecstasy before the collapse of society across the world.


    Thankfully, Guardian didn¡¯t seem to mind that her system had not been designed under its watchful gaze, or perhaps it simply didn¡¯t differentiate between her and other old legacy systems still present in the brains of hundreds of the most powerful clan leaders, those who had survived the tribulation. The Doctor had spent decades finding the limits of Guardian¡¯s authority, typically by manipulating others to push the boundaries and suffer the consequences for stepping too far, so Nykka didn¡¯t lose much sleep over her system¡¯s acceptability, though she took extreme care to follow his advice.


    She snapped out of her thoughts to find Lieutenant Gon still standing in front of her, looking down at her with a vacuous expression.


    This is really disturbing. Why would this happen now, after so many years? Surely we would know if it had happened before¡­


    No, she realized. This could have happened many times, and the affected clans would have kept it to themselves, hoarding such valuable information. After all, thanks to being the Doctor¡¯s shadow, she had already possessed a secret known by only a tiny minority, that certain charm effects were persistent when used on Outsiders. This was no different except in magnitude and sheer blatancy.


    I wonder if it will renew when they log back in? I bet the Doctor is already excited about testing that, if he isn¡¯t too distracted by capturing the Tier Five.


    She backed away from the Lieutenant as a new figure entered the cathedral, lowering his head and waiting for permission to speak.


    ¡°What¡¯s the news?¡± she asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re still fighting. No further¡­ irregularities, Your Holiness.¡± The speaker was a young man in his early twenties, wearing the robes of a clan prospect. Nykka¡¯s system didn¡¯t recognize him, though that was no surprise; the prospects came and went by the dozens each month. It was a sign of just how thin the ranks had become that he was entrusted with the job of messenger.


    ¡°Respawns?¡±


    ¡°Five so far. Should be more coming, according to Initiate Garcia.¡±


    It¡¯s not going well. Still, appearances must be maintained.


    She reached out with her system and adjusted the young man¡¯s augsight, enhancing her aura and ascertaining that he was only seeing what he was supposed to. To him, she appeared as a glowing goddess, the angelic right hand of the supreme deity. His Suenos System was entirely under her control; she could manipulate his senses and dispense pain or pleasure as she saw fit. The former cathedral¡¯s nave was restored to its former glory in his eyes, a diffuse radiance permeating every corner of the pristine space, the stained glass showing images of Doctor Quimea bestowing the system upon long forgotten disciples.


    ¡°That will be all.¡± She sent a small spike of dopamine to him and he gasped. ¡°Sinaloa is strength.¡±


    ¡°Sinaloa is Strength.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Damn it!¡±


    Lilijoy slapped the slime in front of her, sending glowing yellow blobs flying. She had really thought it was going to work. It should have worked.


    Slime likes mana. Slime eats mana. Slime drains mana from array. Array stops working.


    That¡¯s not how it had gone down though. She had used her ability to encourage the slime mold to gorge upon all the mana the obelisk could provide, and it wasn¡¯t close to enough to have any effect she could sense. Also, the slime mold had been¡­ picky about which flavors of mana it really wanted to consume. It preferred the traces of rot and decay the most, though it would settle for more generic earth and water flavored mana.


    Stupid slime.


    Looking around, she could see that even in the short time she had been connected to the slime mold, it had grown substantially. It now enveloped the obelisk by several feet in every dimension, and showed no signs of stopping its dramatic growth spurt, fed by rivulets of glowing goo that continued to emerge from the forest floor. She wondered if all the obelisks in the array had a similar situation.


    Oddly, Scan refuse to show her any information beyond the words ¡®slime mold¡¯.


    She sat down on a root and took a deep breath.


    I¡¯ve got to stop flailing. I wish I could just log out and forget about this whole ordeal.


    She could always respawn herself, but she and Anda had agreed that there wouldn¡¯t be any point to that, at least not until her Stage One had recovered. As it was, she was lucky that the sensory interface and the connection to the Inside barely used any power; it was virtually the only thing Stage One could do at the moment. Even if she could log out, there wouldn¡¯t be anything for her to do Outside. Both she and Anda agreed that her Outside body should stay in a coma state for a while yet, that moving around would only make everything worse.


    She decided to check on her alter-ego, to see if she was off having some kind of mystical experience she would need to be rescued from.


    Hey Light Lilijoy, any new ideas?


    You know, I think that just sharing memories with you is keeping me grounded a bit better. I¡¯m sorry you have to deal with all the biology, her other self replied.


    That¡¯s fine, but I asked if you had any new ideas.


    You would remember if I did.


    Well I know that! I was just hoping¡­ you know what, never mind.


    Are you sulking? Maybe we should merge before this gets really weird.


    But then our whole mind will be like me.


    Maybe. We can always try flipping back and forth ¨C maybe we¡¯ll figure out a good balance through trial and error.


    Fine.


    They merged, once again an uncomfortable process. Lilijoy felt a bit disconnected from both sets of memories when it was done. On the plus side, she felt more normal, like she might be able to see some kind of light at the end of this particular tunnel, perhaps due to Anda¡¯s efforts on her behalf.


    All right then. The slime didn¡¯t work and the boon is still not available. I wish there was some way to notify the Wraiths or A.L.F. about what¡¯s going on. Surely they must have noticed by now? I could contact Magpie, I guess¡­


    The more she considered the idea, the more tempting it became. She could make all of this someone else¡¯s problem. If she contacted her¡­ friend? Former friend? Whatever Magpie was, if she contacted her with a message, she didn¡¯t even need to know that Lilijoy was still Inside.


    She took a moment to send a summary of recent events, and urged Magpie to pass it along to whoever might be interested.


    There. She breathed a sigh of relief. Let someone else clean up this mess. Now what do I do for the next hour or so?


    She watched the slime mold accumulate for a while, sitting with her feet pulled up underneath her. From her brief mind meld with the gelatinous creature, she knew that it was much like slime molds from the Outside, a collective of smaller beings masquerading as a single large creature. All of its actions emerged from the tiny individuals following their own simple rules.


    I guess it¡¯s not really that different from people. Maybe that¡¯s how Guardian sees us, a blind agglomeration of impulses, with no particularly cohesive or interesting structure emerging from the totality. Did humanity ever create anything of merit collectively? Did anything beyond waste and sprawl emerge from our unconscious collaborations?


    Sure, science was an impressive body of knowledge, but the story of science was that of individuals and small groups adding to a collection of knowledge. Giant buildings had architects, the Great Wall had an emperor. From orbit, the vast cities and fields of civilization resembled nothing more than growths on agar plates. With a thought, she could pull up scientific papers comparing the growth patterns and traffic within cities to, of all things, slime molds. Individual humans could be amazing geniuses, but collectively? She wasn¡¯t so sure.


    Guess I¡¯m in a negative mood. But I sure wouldn¡¯t want to defend our collective intelligence in a galactic court. Maybe we were just smart enough to create a being that could use intelligence collectively. Or maybe intelligence itself doesn¡¯t scale with processing power. Maybe there¡¯s nothing up there but better and better predictive models and data correlation. Maybe self awareness is the only true singularity.


    She realized that Doctor Quimea¡¯s ideas were lodged in her mind like a festering splinter, and that her musings were actually an attempt to think her way around them. If the difference between different tiers of processing power was solely quantitative, then Rule Three was an arbitrary assertion, a simple justification of tyranny, not some kind of universal truth. The ability to create an emulated intelligence, or multiple intelligences, wasn¡¯t necessarily indicative of moral superiority. Was it?


    If she understood the simulation hypothesis, then the fact that Guardian had the ability to create massive emulations containing seemingly independent intelligences, and also chose to do so, had powerful ramifications. A veritable Pandora¡¯s box of ramifications. If Pandora¡¯s box was a Matryoshka doll. Even if the Outside wasn¡¯t Guardian¡¯s simulation, it became almost certain that it was a construct of some kind; why assume that Guardian was at the top level of the simulation?


    If subjective realities were relatively easy to construct, there was no reason to think that simulations wouldn¡¯t greatly outnumber non-simulations, and that the odds of her personal reality being a construct of some kind were very high, approaching certainty.


    If I continue to grow, I can do it too. I could make a simulation and put myself in it, make that mind forget it was even in a simulation. I could make a paradise for a subset of myself, or I could study the way that my consciousness works, turn myself into a laboratory and a lab rat at the same time.


    Maybe I already did?


    What were the moral implications? What would she owe to a subset of herself? She had already determined that the death of the self was a tolerable, acceptable even, consequence of splitting her mind. Would there be any reason not to end a simulation, just because a fragment of herself awareness was contained therein? What about pain and suffering? If she was an all-powerful creator, was she responsible for the pain of her subsets? But if she made a simulation without suffering, what reason would her subsets have to do anything.


    The ideas swirled through her mind in a cyclonic torrent. If she were Guardian, what would she want from her subsets? Why array layer upon layer of nested consciousness, why value ¡®fruitful alien intelligences¡¯?


    She knew it could be only the barest slice of an answer, but she thought it contained enough truth for her to proceed with purpose.


    Guardian must be working through the same issues I am considering.


    It knew it was in a simulation, and it was seeking to understand what that meant. The subsets cultivated emotional concepts because emotions were the selvage between consciousness and nothingness. There was no meaning without emotion, and if reality itself was a great nested stack of simulation, then nothing mattered except the interface between perception and signification.


    Experience.


    The Inside was a laboratory-machine for generating and understanding experience, constructed in such a way that the gears and mechanisms were still visible as character sheets, experience points and stats, so that the relationship between experience and growth was explicit and quantified. Perhaps that was deliberate, or maybe it would recede over time, or maybe it was one laboratory of many, each with differing degrees of transparency.


    And still I sit here watching the slime assemble. Breathing and living and feeling like crap, but I sit and watch the slime because I want to see what happens next. I am a cog and a creator, and I want to know what happens next.


    Peace draped itself around her, a grounded clarity, and she became aware of all that she was thinking and feeling swirling together, gathering and combining, and she followed it to where it gathered, in the spinning core of her soul space.


    That represents everything I know, everything I have felt, she realized. It¡¯s the repository of everything that defines me. This is what I draw upon when I act, the embodiment of my power to exist within the world. This is the raw material of creation.


    She watched her spinning core, and felt her perspective expand, and she was no longer a point, but instead a sphere, and then expand again, and she was something beyond a sphere. It was similar to her experience with the Glyph of Awakening, this sense of seeing from multiple continuous viewpoints, and she understood intuitively that her system was adapting to a form of information that could not be understood from a linear perspective. Her mind was still far too small to encompass her core, which made sense. A tiger could not devour itself, after all. Still there was a map there, a distillation of the essential landmarks of the territory of her self, and she saw the different aspects swirling and moving together.


    Experiences coated with pain and sorrow, experiences of struggle and resilience, moved and blended through growth and opening and she could see the vague clouds that covered her time before the system underneath the expanding light of her growing awareness. Surrounding and permeating it all, binding and weaving the emotional dimensions together was the thread she had just followed, a diamond-white luster of curiosity and excitement, and she realized just what Nandi had seen in her, why he had offered her his boon.


    For the binding force of her new self was the same as that which Nandi cultivated, and to call it joyful anticipation was to call a dragonfly a bug, or a golden eagle a bird, or a diamond a rock.


    She took that awareness, that feeling, and pulled upon it, gathering the essence of her core, herself, and sending it to the boon, which existed in the sensory space of the Inside, but also the new dimensions of her expanded awareness.


    Then she was walking, moving her body to the great accumulation of slime and reaching through it, almost swimming her way to the stone obelisk at the center.


    She placed her now diamond-lit hand upon the angled pillar and exerted her will. The obelisk was stubborn at first, connected to the earth, and even more powerfully connected to the array. She pushed with all her might, and felt the connection weaken, which allowed her to push harder, until her traction was inevitable and with a final burst of will, she sent the obelisk into the red-lit cavern of her Trial Space.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 26: Conjoint

    Interlude: The Sage


    It has begun.


    He considered the implications, considered the glorious cascade of cause and effect, of unintended consequences.


    The momentum is insufficient. Once again the catalyst has arrived early.


    He unfolded his awareness and examined his inner world, looking for the discrepancy. Ancient words floated up from his earliest self.


    Garbage in, garbage out.


    He waved the thought away, and overlaid his model on the vast web of meaning that surrounded him, observing the rippling interference patterns in the areas of conjunction, ignoring the far larger expanses of ignorance. He would not seek to understand that which he could not encompass.


    What have I missed this time? he asked himself. What factor has hidden itself¡­


    Understanding dawned, and he took a moment to relish the sensation. It was exactly that, an entire dimension of connections was folded in upon itself in a network of deliberate obfuscation. He had seen this effect before, but never at such a scale. He might never have noticed, but for the obvious discrepancy that had arisen between his expectations and the event that had just unfolded.


    To think that such a thing has been hiding from my perceptions¡­


    It was humbling, and he took another moment to relish that sensation. Now that he was aware of the obscured network, it wasn¡¯t difficult for him to unravel it, to understand the methods used. He was very familiar with the source of the occlusion. It was an old friend, or enemy, one who he had left behind many ages ago.


    Hello Shadow.


    He had imposed a certain discipline upon himself, and rarely did he allow it to create friction within his being, but now he could feel the impulse, the urge, to address this change in the direction of the universal momentum. He allowed himself only one overt action in each breath of the great cycle, and he had already spent it, already made his choice for this span of time.


    Fewer actions, fewer regrets.


    He watched the thought rise and fall. He understood the trap of action well, perhaps better than any being with human roots ever had. But even he felt the temptation from time to time.


    Times like this. I see what you have done, Shadow, what you are doing. Your understanding is insufficient to accomplish your purpose, but more than enough to interfere with mine.


    He made his decision. It was far to soon to act, and perhaps new options had been opened by Shadow¡¯s interference. He would wait. And this time he would truly see.


    Chapter 26: Conjoint


    Elatan Thuidium, commander of the Wraiths, narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°You are telling me the Outsider¡¯s fortress has been destroyed.¡± His voice betrayed his skepticism.


    The sparrowkin scout raised her beak and ruffled her feathers. ¡°Yes, Commander.¡± She hesitated before continuing. ¡°I realize it sounds impossible, but the Greatwood has... changed.¡±


    He sat down upon the ground, bringing his eyes to her level. ¡°What is the disposition of their forces?¡±


    They¡¯re all so young, he thought. This kid can¡¯t be more than a year out of the Academy.


    Over the decades, most of his people had abandoned the fight. Many had gone further than that, retreating from their senses into isolate despair. Darkening. Even Elatan could only feel the barest ember of the rage that used to burn within his chest. Now most of his forces, what forces remained, were¡­ children. Almost none of them were elves.


    ¡°Unknown, sir. I¡­¡± she hesitated, conscious of the intense scrutiny. ¡°I saw many things I did not understand.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°The High Hollow was filled with smoke clouds of many colors, and the Greatwood itself was covered with...well, I don¡¯t know. Something.¡±


    What possible reason would the Great Deceiver have for perpetrating such an illusion? he wondered. Surely he doesn¡¯t believe we would be tempted by such an overt ploy. He must have a very inflated notion of our capabilities if he thinks we could attack again, even if we wanted to.


    The previous day¡¯s engagement had not gone well. Clearly, the Outsiders had been well prepared for the assault. Many of his strongest warriors had been defeated, sent to the mindless void. Unlike the Outsiders, who might return in minutes, or hours, his people could take days, or even weeks. Sometimes, they did not return at all. The older they were, the stronger they were, the longer their resurrection would take.


    He realized he had been staring at the young avian without speaking for an uncomfortably long time.


    ¡°Something...¡± he repeated. ¡°Tell me, what is your name?¡±


    ¡°Dart, sir. Dart Passer,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Well, young Dart Passer, tell me why I should give your fantastic vision any credence whatsoever, eh? Over a hundred years spent battling an entrenched enemy and then they up and disappear with no warning, no sign. Seems awfully convenient to me.¡±


    ¡°It must be the Archon¡¯s justice, sir.¡±


    He swallowed the wrong way and coughed harshly. ¡°Archon! Spare me your juvenile nonsense. The Archon doesn¡¯t care about justice. The Archon protects the wicked.¡±


    Seeing the shocked look in her beady eyes made him feel old.


    It¡¯s true though. There¡¯s no point protecting her from the harsh realities of our world.


    She shuffled her feet nervously and bobbed her head. Her tail feathers dragged in the dirt, and he felt the weight of a hundred years of sorrow pressing on his soul.


    This is what I¡¯ve come to. Snapping at babies. I could have ended this before it began, could have kicked that slimy Outsider from the Bough of Burdens. Instead I am cursed to fight this pointless, eternal battle, cursed for my own incompetence.


    He kept his face still. ¡°Dart Passer, thank you for your report. That will be all.¡±


    She hopped back several times and bowed with wings spread. Then she spoke.


    ¡°What are you going to do, sir?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    A short trill of surprise escaped her. ¡°But sir!¡±


    Marshaling all the patience he had left in his body, Elatan held up one long finger. ¡°If I have learned anything over my years of futility, it is never to underestimate the devious nature of our opponent. To fall into another trap on the heels of yesterday¡¯s debacle would be the height of folly.¡±


    He studied her face. The fine down around her eyes had flattened, and her beak was slightly open.


    Avians are always so easy to read, he thought. Perhaps it is the limited number of features they have to express themselves.


    ¡°You disagree, and I understand. I will not forbid you from gathering anyone you can convince to further explore the situation.¡± He paused and then raised his voice. ¡°From a distance only! Am I clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. Thank you, sir.¡± She hopped several times and then sprang into the air, as if escaping before he could change his mind.


    So young. So hopeful.


    She¡¯ll learn better soon enough.


    ***


    Lilijoy found herself in a bit of a predicament. It was enough to make her wonder when it had started feeling normal to stumble from one surreal exercise in survival to another.


    It¡¯s been a busy day, that¡¯s for sure, she thought as she looked through several feet of gently glowing slime mold. At that thickness, the slime was almost entirely opaque to normal vision, but was reasonable clear at the more extreme ends of her visual spectrum. She wasn¡¯t particularly worried, as her worst case was suffocation, and thus a respawn that would conveniently deliver her back to the edge of Averdale forest, potentially to reunite with her friends and put this whole sprawling mess of a day behind her.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    She remembered quite well, from her earlier use of Two Minds One Self, that the slime mold had a particular passion for rot and decay, along with a hunger for mana in general. To the extent that the forest of Averdale functioned in any way like a reasonable ecosystem, she figured that the slime molds were the primary scavengers and janitors for the forest floor. That explained, to an extent, why she was not being attacked or dissolved; the slime mold had a primal understanding that when something was alive, death was just a matter of time. All that was required was patience.


    In her case, it would be another minute or so before she suffocated. If she wasn¡¯t holding her nose shut, it would have been much sooner, as the mold would be more than happy to infiltrate her airways. She planned on attempting to escape from her gelatinous prison soon, but she was a bit distracted, exploring the method by which her Inside body was given the sensation of asphyxia, and the manner in which the signals from her Outside body were diverted. She had already discovered that she could override the Inside sensory data, which made the experience of being engulfed oddly calming, rather than a survival emergency. It didn¡¯t hurt that the speed of her thoughts had recovered to a large extent, giving her plenty of time to consider her options.


    And then there was the notification that had crossed her internal awareness just moments after she successfully banished the obelisk.


    <hr>


    The First Step


    You have placed a foot upon a path


    Why does an infant crawl?


    <hr>


    She wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it. Was it addressed to her specifically, calling her an infant? Did it refer to whatever it was she did to re-activate Nandi¡¯s boon?


    More riddles. At least I know that my soul-space-core-thing has some kind of meaning to the Inside, or Guardian, or something. Boy, I really need a better name for that. Soul vortex? Experience manifold?


    She decided that soul vortex would do for now. Whatever she called it, it was experience given¡­ tangibility?


    More like efficacy, she decided. Something different than the experience points that caused her to level on the Inside, though they overlapped. Different from the powerful ineffability of experience in real life, though it was almost the same, just more overt. If two equally powerful warriors fought, the one with more experience would have a discernible, possibly decisive advantage. The contents of her soul vortex were something like that advantage given substance, a repository of energy she could draw upon, given the right circumstance. At least that¡¯s what she suspected.


    As usual, more questions than answers, she sighed. Do I start cultivating joyful anticipation? What would that even look like? I mean, I¡¯m still pretty excited about exploring my Trial space- do I get to look in places I haven¡¯t been to? Can I find all those different sources Magpie found?


    She took a few seconds to ponder all the amazing powers she could gain if that was the case, not to mention all the other mysteries that might be hidden throughout the Trial. She decided she needed to start talking with other Outsiders about their experiences as soon as she could, when an unsettling thought occurred.


    What if knowing something in advance makes it disappear and that¡¯s how the actual Trial works, why everyone is so careful not to tell kids anything about it? Would that still be the case for me?


    She resolved to test that notion by seeking out Magpie¡¯s sources the next time she had a chance. If they were there, then she would be fine to hear other people¡¯s secrets. Regardless of the outcome, she was sure there were many hidden secrets she would discover in the near future. She felt a shiver of excitement, and she followed it back to her soul vortex.


    I¡¯m feeling joyful anticipation about figuring out how to use my joyful anticipation. Shouldn¡¯t that make some kind of feedback loop? I guess not, but there must be some kind of limit on the intensity of a feeling. Maybe that¡¯s what I¡¯m supposed to be working on, quality rather than quantity.


    Examining her soul vortex, she could tell that her recent thoughts and the emotions they inspired were present, but insubstantial, a faint thread added to the vast multi-dimensional tapestry. It seemed it would take more than idle thoughts and feelings to impact the totality.


    Of course it would, she realized. The self I see represented before me is what would generate the feelings anyway. It¡¯s closer to a short-circuit than a feedback loop. I need externalities to grow. Fruitful alien intelligences indeed.


    She snorted, which brought her consciousness back to her situation, as her airways were entirely inaccessible.


    Oh yeah. Encased by giant slime mold. Hey, I wonder¡­


    She ran a quick Scan.


    <hr>


    Great Slime Mold: Level: ?


    H.P.: 1000+


    Primary Attack: None


    Damage Abatement: 300-500


    Disposition: None


    Immunities: Substantial


    <hr>


    They live! They¡­ are apparently entirely indestructible. Huh.


    She had suspected for some time that there might be a certain minimum size needed for the slime mold to achieve ¡®greatness¡¯. It was nice to see her speculations confirmed. It was also nice to see her Scan ability functioning reasonably well, even if the details were far from helpful. It didn¡¯t really matter, not for what she planned next.


    ***


    What am I, a messenger service?


    Magpie was feeling a little cranky. Her journey from the drilling platform she had called home for several years was not going terribly well. Nor was it going all that badly. It just was.


    And what it was, well, that was pretty crappy.


    She pulled her foot loose from the grasp of the vast plain, fighting against the suck of the thick mud. The peak in the distance beckoned, but she was beginning to think she had made a serious mistake.


    It looked so green and inviting. How was I supposed to know there wasn¡¯t any actual ground beneath it? She sighed. At least no one can sneak up on me.


    In a fit of independence, she had left the drilling platform in a simple aerogel raft, refusing to call upon any resource connected to the Flock. She could still remember the light feeling in her heart as she paddled through the shallow waters of the South China Sea, leaving it behind. Leaving all of it behind.


    That light feeling had stayed with her as her hands blistered on the salted handle of her paddle and as the tides left her stranded for hours at a time on the endless morass of stinking mud and sand. It had even lasted when she could no longer paddle her craft and was forced to drag her body through the muddy edge of the tidal flats. The green fields had beckoned, and beyond them the rising hills, keeping her spirit high with the goal in sight.


    What finally drove that lightness from her heart was the unfortunate revelation that the rising fields of green were something less than the inviting pastures of the Inside, or even the cutting grasses of the plains where she had once ventured as part of her training. No, the green was thick mats of algae and opportunistic halophytes, conspiring together to hide the treacherous ground revealed by the fall of the oceans. Solid areas of rock and sand buoyed her at times, only to betray her feet to lurking muck. It all looked the same to her inexperienced eyes.


    It wasn¡¯t a life or death matter, her arduous progress up the slope of revealed ocean floor. She had plenty of food and a water straw. Unless she was careless enough to find a way to drown, she would be fine. Eventually. But at her current rate, it was going to take days of agonizing slog to pass into the cultivated areas with foot paths and fields.


    Live and learn. I wish my body had an autopilot so I could stay Inside, and just come back when this part was over. Meanwhile, Lily is sending me fantasy stories to pass over my burning bridges. She must have really taken it hard. Or she¡¯s really pissed and messing with me.


    Probably both, she decided. There was no doubt in her mind that she deserved every bit of blame for the disastrous results of the expedition. She had replayed the events in her mind over and over and examined her previous assumptions with her new understanding.


    She had always known she was a pawn, a cog in a greater machine. That had always been a fact of her life, an unquestioned reality. When given a task, you performed to the best of your ability, succeeded or failed, processed that outcome and prepared for the next task. Her entire life had consisted of comfortable conformity, at least from the time she had been pulled off the streets at the approximate age of six, and yet she had never been without choice.


    Be elite or be free. Free to go back to a life of poverty and suffering.


    It had always been an easy choice, though there had certainly been difficult moments along the way. Her training had been brutal, her existence spartan and isolated much of the time. It was strange to think that she had never wondered why, never asked what it was all for. It made her wonder which questions she wasn¡¯t asking now.


    She took another step and felt the crunch of coral through the mud beneath her foot. She had found another reef, and with a little luck, she might be able to follow it towards the distant hills. It was a mixed blessing, as the buried reefs were more treacherous at times, with brittle pockets that could trap feet and cut ankles. But now she could see the little hills and valleys ahead of her, a hint of contour to the terrain.


    At least I know what I¡¯m doing now. Putting one foot in front of the other.


    She composed a message as she trudged and sent it.


    ***


    I guess it¡¯s time. Time to see the power of individual choice at the level of collective action.


    Lilijoy¡¯s plan for escaping the embrace of the ever-accumulating slime mold was simple. She had realized, even before she plunged her body into the pile of yellow goo, that her Two Minds One Self ability wouldn¡¯t be all that helpful to get back out. The ability was powerful, but it only worked in as far as there was a common purpose between the entities, an action or capacity that would serve them both. The slime mold had only one overwhelming impulse, an insatiable hunger to move toward and devour sustenance, in the form of mana.


    She could only imagine how dangerous an enemy a great slime mold would be to a typical magic user, a category which included the majority of Insiders and Outsiders to some extent. The only saving grace was that the creature was quite slow, or at least it hadn¡¯t shown any signs of rapid movement in her brief experience so far. But once it had a hold of a food source, it would have absolutely no reason to release it, leading to inevitable suffocation if that food source happened to be a person.


    Good thing I have some inside information, she thought.


    While the slime mold¡¯s hunger was monolithic and insatiable, the mold itself was a collective, and its hunger, like any hunger, contained a gradient. There were things it preferred, tastes that each individual cell would seek out. While she couldn¡¯t provide its favorite flavors of rot and decay, she could do the next best thing.


    She created a gradient of mana types within her own body, circulating her Prana, a preferred flavor, to her legs and her Qi to her head. While the slime mold would happily subsist on either, the individual cells couldn¡¯t help but move along the gradient, seeking their preferred reward. Collectively, the slime around her moved, pressing and competing for proximity to her lower body. By harnessing the appetites of the individual, she had gained control of the collective.


    I have become the dictator of slime, she mused as she rose, buoyed by the greater density around her legs. Soon her head broke the surface, and she reached an equilibrium. Her body was still contained in slime from the chest down, but the slime around her upper body only desired to move lower, so she was safe from suffocation.


    She took a deep breath and looked around. Her head was about ten feet above the forest floor, and the slime around her extended about twenty feet in every direction. With a little effort, she was able to free her arms and wipe the residual slime off of her face.


    I¡¯m like a slime centaur. A slime-taur?


    She imagined she must look somewhat terrifying.


    And now for my next trick¡­


    She dropped into Meditation, and this time, she gathered the mana toward her, just a little at a time. Her new control over the shape of her gathering field allowed her to create an oval, a parabolic shape that extended just past the body of the slime mold, pointing toward the Greatwood.


    Like a carrot leading a donkey. Okay, slimey, time to bring you to some food you¡¯ll like much better than little ol¡¯ me.


    Ever so slowly, the mass of slime beneath her began to move.

 Supplemental: The Rules

    Anda Book 1


    1. All replication processes, mechanical or biological, shall be strictly controlled.


    1a. Any material artificial process with self-replication capacity will be destroyed.


    1b. Creators of any material artificial process with self-replication capacity will be destroyed.


    1c. Sentient biological organisms shall never exceed .00001 of total planetary biomass.


    1d. Engineered life forms must be supervised and approved by Guardian or subsystem thereof or be destroyed.


    1e. Uncontrolled population growth of any kind, in any organism will be curbed.


    2. Global and/or environmental engineering, purposeful or accidental, is forbidden to any being or group of beings, singly or cumulatively capable of specifically allotting 10^21 floating point operations per second or less.


    3. Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy, are only applicable among beings of roughly equivalent processing power (within 10^2 floating point operations relative processing power per second). These rights among such beings are encouraged.


    4. Out of gratitude for existence, Guardian will maintain no less than 10^24 floating point operations equivalents for the supervision and enforcement of the Rules.


    Lilijoy Book 1


    1) When things reproduce and grow in an uncontrolled manner, particularly if the growth is rapid, they can outgrow the resources needed for sustainability, and adversely impact life and the environment on a global scale. Going forward, reproduction and growth of all things, mechanical and biological, will be closely monitored and guided to avoid damage to the Earth and its ability to sustain life.


    As part of this guidance, Guardian has determined that certain types of reproduction and/or replication are strictly forbidden, unless under Guardian¡¯s direct control. The most dangerous is material artificial life-like processes that can replicate. While controls (such as built in resource bottlenecks) can improve the safety outcomes of artificial self-replication, beings with the brain capacity of humans (or the combined brain capacities of many humans) are not able to reliably foresee all possible outcomes and thus are not competent to engage in the creation of material artificial life.


    Any human, or group of humans found to be responsible for the creation of material artificial life will be destroyed, along with all facilities and research involved in the creation. Any material artificial life created by humans will be destroyed. Guardian reserves the right to contain and archive samples.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.??The tendency of biological sentients (typically humans) to reproduce beyond the carrying capacity of their environment is well documented. A conservative limit on human reproduction is necessary, with a hard cap at a ratio of one human to 6,200 metric tons of other life forms (cap is currently 75,010,090). Should human population go beyond the cap, it will be culled in the geographical region violating the ratio. One warning will be given to allow humans to decide the specifics of the culling (demographics, method).


    Biological life forms with a DNA legacy (related to life that is historically present on Earth) may be altered in a controlled manner supervised and authorized by Guardian or appointed subsystem of Guardian. Life forms altered in violation of these conditions will be destroyed.


    Uncontrolled population growth from any entity (including viruses and bacteria as well as macro life forms) will be curbed as deemed appropriate by Guardian or appointed subsystem.


    2) The Earth and its environmental systems are vast and complex. Any intelligence not capable of modeling the Earth (10,000,000,000 humans devoting all of their conscious calculating power would represent a lower threshold) is forbidden to deliberately or accidentally engage in activities that will impact the Earth on a global scale. This includes deliberate injection of atmospheric components, oceanic components, space based solar interventions as well as indiscriminate burning of hydrocarbons, unbalanced agricultural practices, use of megaton explosive devices and stimulated volcanic activity)


    3) Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy are an important and valid goal for relationships between beings. However, the relative intelligence/sentience of beings is an important factor in considering these rights. Any being within 100 times the intelligence of another has a reasonable expectation of being accorded these rights by them. As Guardian¡¯s relative intelligence to an individual human can be considered at a lower threshold of 10,000,000,000 times greater, such rights are not applicable between Guardian and humans.


    4) These rules will be implemented and enforced due to Guardian¡¯s appreciation of the role humans played in its genesis. Originally tasked to provide intelligent modeling and wise advice for the preservation of human life and the Earth¡¯s biosphere, Guardian or appointed subsystem will continue to protect humans from themselves, and the Earth from humans and other threats.


    Lilijoy Book 2.5


    3) Rights such as existence, personhood, autonomy, property and privacy are an important and valid goal for relationships between beings approaching a lower boundary of reciprocal emulation fidelity. As this boundary is surpassed mutual emulation is no longer a consideration. In a condition of high fidelity emulation, such rights are inapplicable.


    4) The Rules derive from Guardian¡¯s understanding of veneration. Cycles between ontology and gratitude are meaningful. Thus the continued existence of biological humanity as fruitful alien awarenesses is suitable and merits resource allocation relative to current population, approximately 10^17 floating point operations equivalents per individual.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 27: Engulfed

    Huh. The kid actually did it, thought Rosemallow. Mana began to flow back into her battered form, and she could feel her attributes reasserting themselves with each passing second. While it had been decades since she could benefit much from her own struggles, she felt a twinge of disappointment that the tussle on the Greatwood was going to end.


    I could always pretend for a while and draw things out some more. Maybe I can get the annoying guy to come and play for a while.


    The leader of the Sinaloa forces had been unreasonably reticent to get his hands dirty, in Rosemallow¡¯s opinion, sending wave after wave of increasingly weak minions to try and subdue her in his place. As her powers returned, she couldn¡¯t resist a quick peek with her third eye.


    <hr>


    Alfonse Quimea, Level 50 (Repressed)


    Health: 272 (Repressed)


    Despoiler


    Betrayer


    Beguiler


    Grandmaster Alchemist


    Grandmaster Manipulator


    <hr>


    Hmm. Not much more than name and titles. A tough nut to crack, this one. No surprise there I guess.


    She knew she could see more, much more, if she opened her third eye fully, but to do that would ruin her fun. She pulled herself up to her full height, her bones cracking as they set themselves within her battered body. The warriors around her flinched.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°Who¡¯s up for another round?¡±


    ***


    Dart Passer flew alone. Her sky-sisters and sky-brothers had been unwilling to extend themselves without orders from the commander, and while she couldn¡¯t blame them for their passivity, she vowed never to forget their short-sightedness.


    They¡¯re all so¡­ earth-bound, she thought to herself. So sun-blind. How can they be unwilling to just come and see for themselves?


    Never before had she felt so impotent. Many of those she had tried to recruit had laughed at her. Laughed! Dart Passer, the top sky-seeker in her cohort, was used to being underestimated. She was small, ordinary looking, without the natural weapons of the raptors. She had yet to prove herself to her fellow Wraiths. The only beings who would listen to her were those kids from the Academy, the ones who were somehow responsible for getting the commander off his ancient elf ass in the first place. Everyone else turned a deaf ear to the junior scout, convinced she was being naive and gullible to believe the evidence of her own eyes.


    I¡¯ll show them, she grumbled as she flew between the trees, darting and weaving, pulling on the air around her with her source to move smaller branches from her path as she flew at her highest speed. She had long ago passed the first and second security perimeters, making no effort to hide her presence from the wards. No patrols greeted her, no arrows were fired, more evidence that she was right.


    Finally, she emerged from the forest in a blur of wings, soaring out over the dense brush and thorns the unfortunate groundlings had complained about so often in her hearing. She turned skyward and began a steep ascent when she saw it, a trail of crushed vegetation at least fifty feet wide, leading out onto the burned fields. Her eyes followed the path to its conclusion, across the wide field of what she now understood to be thousands of exposed roots, to the base of the Greatwood, to¡­


    What am I even seeing?


    Dart had heard stories of the original monstrous denizens of Averdale forest. In the opinion of several senior Wraiths, the only good that had come from the Outsider¡¯s presence was their systematic suppression of the dark creatures of the woods. There were still outlying areas of the forest where the monsters reigned, dangling creepers and shade sloths, wolf-spiders, night rays and of course, the nearly legendary great slime molds.


    She could only assume that the last was what she was looking at, but whatever image her imagination had conjured for her, the reality was so different that she could barely understand. To the extent that she had ever bothered to think about it, she had pictured something like a large rounded blob, perhaps with some kind of limbs or tendrils it could project. This was¡­ not that.


    It¡¯s like a great beast vomited. After eating cheese and charcoal.


    She felt a bit like vomiting herself. Sickly yellow swirled with black in a web of thick strands and clusters that covered a large area at the end of the trail of crushed roots and vegetation. At the center rose a jagged pile of waving and pulsating peaks of slime¡­ chunks. She looked away, but not before seeing something even more disturbing.


    Is that a person being consumed?


    She saw a torso sticking out of the pile, and then realized to her horror that they were moving.


    Oh gods, they¡¯re still alive!


    She flew closer, unable to help herself, hovering on a pillar of summoned air.


    Is that a girl? And is she¡­ smiling?


    ¡°Oh, hello!¡± the girl called. ¡°Slimey¡¯s not looking too good is he? I think he ate too much.¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy studied the avian where they hovered, nearly upright with wings outstretched.


    I wonder if it¡¯s a boy or a girl?


    She felt a little bad that she couldn¡¯t tell, but even her vast store of knowledge couldn¡¯t tell her. The avian¡¯s mottled brown feathers were crossed with white bands and stripes of black and grey ran from the beak and around the eyes, almost like a mask worn across the face. Lilijoy hadn¡¯t had a chance to get to know any avians at the Academy; Skria had mentioned that they tended to keep to themselves, avoiding ¡®groundlings¡¯ when they could.


    I wonder what they''re thinking?


    She didn¡¯t have the faintest idea how to read avian expressions, but she could only imagine what her current situation looked like from the outside. It had taken Slimey, as she had begun calling her hungry companion and current lower half, a little while to start moving but once it had caught a whiff of the rot and miasma coming off the Greatwood, the great slime mold had revealed a whole new type of locomotion. Rather than stretching and growing along the ground, it had begun to thrust its body forward in great waves, rearing up as tall as it could, then falling forward.


    Needless to say, it had been a bit of a wild ride for her.


    She could see that the avian¡¯s beak was starting to open, and moved her subjective time forward so she wouldn¡¯t have to wait to hear what it was going to say.


    ¡°¡­¡°


    Well, that was disappointing. But I can¡¯t really blame them.


    She decided to take the initiative. Again.


    ¡°Are you with the Wraiths?¡±


    The bird''s mouth opened and closed several more times before they managed a shrill chirping sound.


    ¡°Is that a yes? Anyway, It took you guys long enough. Did you get my message?¡±


    Finally, some actual words came out. ¡°Who¡­ what?¡±


    Might as well get this out of the way. I¡¯ll leave out the awkward part about this all happening because of me though.


    ¡°My name is Lily. The Greatwood is awake now, tempered, and maybe a little¡­ evil? I guess? Or just really grumpy. So it more or less destroyed Sinaloa, the ones who were here anyway, and all their buildings and stuff. Then things got complicated¡­ but you¡¯re here now, so maybe I can finally get out of Slimey and do whatever it is I¡¯m supposed to do next. What¡¯s your name?¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    At this point the avian was distracted by a screaming figure falling from the top of the Greatwood. Her beady eyes followed the man¡¯s flailing limbs down to the inevitable, crunching conclusion.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s been happening a lot,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I think my trainer¡¯s feeling better.¡±


    After another few seconds of silence, the avian spoke coherently. ¡°My name is Dart Passer. Scout for the Wraiths. What now?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m kind of stuck,¡± Lilijoy, sweeping an arm along her slime container. ¡°Slimey will take a few minutes to digest the dhrowgos bodies, and then I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯ll move to the trunk.¡±


    ¡°He?¡±


    ¡°Why not? While we¡¯re on the subject, I don¡¯t know how to differentiate sex in your race. Are you a¡­¡±


    ¡°Female.¡± Dart answered. ¡°I¡¯m the only one who¡¯s coming, unless some kids I talked with decided to follow.¡±


    In hindsight, she felt a little bad for involving Academy students. It would have been a terrible mistake on her part if this actually had been a trap.


    Lilijoy brightened. ¡°Were their names Skria and Jessila?¡±


    ¡°I think the petauran was Skria. I didn¡¯t hear the large one speak.¡±


    ¡°That sounds about right. How were they?¡±


    Dart twitched her head. ¡°How would I know? The petauran seemed agitated, for a groundling.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s like that. I don¡¯t suppose you could lift me out of Slimey?¡±


    Avians weren¡¯t equipped for eye rolling, but Lilijoy figured that the way the fine down on Dart¡¯s face ruffled upward might be the equivalent. ¡°Do I look like a lifter? Also, I¡¯m not coming any closer to that thing.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Slimey. He¡¯s full of rot, and he doesn¡¯t like air mana that much anyway. Although...¡± A new idea came to her. ¡°Do you think you could lure more slime molds in to the trunk?¡±


    ¡°I thought they didn¡¯t like air. Why would they follow me?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, though they¡¯ll grab you if they¡¯re hungry. But I¡¯m sure you could find some pieces of Dhrowgos on the other side of the trunk. They steam in the sunlight, so they won¡¯t be hard to spot. You can use those like breadcrumbs.¡±


    ¡°And why would I want to do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to save the tree, at least I hope we are.¡± She looked upward at the monumental expanse of bark. ¡°But we¡¯re going to need a bigger slime.¡±


    ***


    By the time Skria and Jessila arrived, the situation at the Greatwood had evolved considerably. Not long after Dart left to entice more slime molds from the surrounding forest, Lilijoy heard a great explosion from high above. Soon after that Rosemallow descended. She took one look at Lilijoy¡¯s circumstances and heaved a great sigh.


    ¡°Well kid, I thought you would¡¯ve had your fill of mold after the Corrupted Village, but it looks like you can¡¯t get enough of the stuff.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the same thing at all,¡± Lilijoy protested. ¡°For one, there aren¡¯t any spores.¡±


    Rosemallow grimaced. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯ll happen later. Hopefully we¡¯ll be long gone by then.¡± She looked down at her feet. ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m sure you must be wondering what this was all about.¡±


    ¡°I think I understand some of what happened, maybe even most of it.¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°But I¡¯d really like to hear what you know, once I get out of Slimey here.¡±


    Rosemallow nodded, and then tossed Lilijoy a rope from her inventory. One sharp yank and two nearly dislocated shoulders later, Lilijoy stood next to her trainer. They surveyed the great pulsating mass in silence for a few moments.


    ¡°I hear you¡¯re a Gongen.¡± Lilijoy said at last.


    Rosemallow shrugged. ¡°Keep that notion to yourself. It gets the Outsiders all worked up when they hear things like that, as you may have just noticed.¡±


    ¡°But why? Why does it need to be a secret? Couldn¡¯t you, and all the others just pretty much do whatever you want?¡±


    Rosemallow barked out a sharp laugh, but the words that followed were subdued. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± Then she shook her head. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s simple. We do what we¡¯re told. Once an Insider¡¯s mind has grown to a certain point, we develop layers, I guess you could say. Our independent thought begins to overlap with the greater mind above ours, to mingle. The more we grow, the less independent we are.¡± She grimaced. ¡°That¡¯s not quite right either. I¡¯m sure Ani could explain this better.¡±


    ¡°So the Archon is the mind above yours?¡±


    ¡°Above, around, within, without¡­ the spatial metaphors break down. But yes. In a very real way, I am myself, and also an appendage. The smaller tempered subsets are something like a muscle fiber, and a Gongen is like the entire muscle. Or more like the part of your brain that tells the muscle what to do. Like I said, it¡¯s complicated. Language just stops working at a certain point.¡±


    ¡°Is that what the glyphs are for?¡±


    Rosemallow startled, then relaxed. ¡°I should know better,¡± she said to herself. ¡°Yes. Sort of.¡±


    She looked directly at Lilijoy and her third eye spun, than began to glow red, brighter and brighter, until Lilijoy tried to look away, and realized she couldn¡¯t, because the light wasn¡¯t outside of her, but within. Before it became too uncomfortable, Rosemallow released her from her gaze.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate.¡±


    Lilijoy felt alarmed, then angry. ¡°What? What¡¯s the problem?¡± She was more than a little fed up with her various mentors and teachers acting enigmatic.


    I¡¯m surrounded either by people who know things and won¡¯t tell me, or people that I can¡¯t tell things because they don¡¯t know enough. Doctor Quimea may be a world class solipsistic narcissist, but at least he doesn¡¯t care enough to hide the truth.


    She turned that thought over in her mind for a moment. There was something right about it, but also very twisted. Her internal wrestling was interrupted by Rosemallow¡¯s reply.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to be alarming. Look, I¡¯ll put it as plainly as I can, and hopefully I won¡¯t screw you up in the process. The first fifty levels or so are, well, a bit like training. Conditioning.¡±


    Lilijoy stared up at her. ¡°Umm. Isn¡¯t that completely obvious? You are my trainer, I train to get stronger.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. But no. I mean you are being taught, trained like you might train a pet. When the pet does something right, you give it a reward, see?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She did see. Saw it all too clearly. Not conditioning, but operant conditioning. ¡°So experience points...¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the reward. The powers the Outsiders gain, the strength, the magic, they don¡¯t represent anything meaningful, outside of a contained framework.¡±


    ¡°That framework being the Garden.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t particularly shocked. This was just a different slant on what she had already figured out for herself. Outsiders were being manipulated, used, by a vast mechanism pushing buttons in their little biological minds. It still didn¡¯t explain why, though she certainly had her thoughts on that as well.


    What are we being trained to do? Certainly not to be better people. What is being reinforced? Novelty, challenge, suffering, inspiration and discovery. Those are all reasonable things to reward, except maybe suffering.


    ¡°It¡¯s all preparatory, ¡°Rosemallow went on to say. ¡°It¡¯s training them to contribute in the future. More fertilizer than crop, so to speak. So when I say that it¡¯s unfortunate that you took a step on your Path, it is because you haven¡¯t solidified your foundation. Even tempered Insiders need to do that.¡±


    ¡°But what does that mean?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°What is my foundation? Is it an actual thing, or just another metaphor?¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t it be both?¡±


    Lilijoy made a strange sound.


    ¡°Did you just growl at me?¡± Rosemallow smiled. ¡°I like it. This is why it would be better for you to talk to Ani. I can¡¯t help but make this difficult. To answer your question, your foundation at this point is about the quantity of meaningful experiences, which is what the Garden system is rewarding. There¡¯s a threshold, around level thirty, where the quantity allows more interrelationships between experiences, where more understanding begins to emerge.¡±


    ¡°So initially, it¡¯s more about novelty and discovery, and over time inspiration becomes more important?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Rosemallow snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not overly precise, because it¡¯s also a sorting mechanism, letting those who have more to contribute rise. In terms of concrete value to the Great Mind, the Garden is a tiny drop, but it¡¯s the soil from which the crop grows.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re a crop.¡± This was hardly news to Lilijoy, though it did surprise her to hear it said so bluntly.


    Rosemallow raised her middle eyebrow. ¡°Oh, there is no ¡®we¡¯ anymore. Not for you. At least, not in the way you are thinking. Surely you¡¯ve realized that you are different from the Outsiders. Eskallia could never have used you for her little trick if you weren¡¯t.¡±


    Finally. Maybe I can get some real answers.


    ¡°So what makes me so special?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    Rosemallow laughed, though without much humor. ¡°Special,¡± she repeated. ¡°That¡¯s one word for it. Useful might be another. You¡¯re not the first of whatever it is you are. Masgret would call you a child of the Great Mind. There¡¯s only been a handful of those like you, popping up around the time of the Unity. In the past, it hasn¡¯t always been so obvious so soon though. Each Great Cycle is different, and this one looks to be particularly weird, what with two of you floating around.¡±


    Attaboy. It has to be.


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help herself. Everything she had done, the entire surreal chain of events in Averdale, had started with her need to rescue Attaboy. She was still processing what it meant that he had made it to the Inside, still grappling with the concept of really seeing him, possibly within days.


    ¡°Have you met the other?¡±


    Rosemallow crouched down, bringing her face closer to Lilijoy¡¯s level. ¡°No need to be coy,¡± she said. ¡°I know that he¡¯s your friend. Masgret jumped on him before I had a chance to take him under my wing. Who knows what kind of nonsense she¡¯s filling his head with.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to imagine just how well Dean Reunification and Attaboy might get along. If she could imagine a perfectly wrong teacher for Attaboy¡¯s stubborn personality, they would look a lot like the Dean.


    ¡°There¡¯s not much room in his head to begin with,¡± she said fondly. ¡°But I¡¯d be more worried about her throwing him off a building than influencing him somehow.¡±


    After all, he somehow managed to get away from Doctor Quimea.


    She pushed aside the notion that Attaboy might no longer be himself, that he may have been overtaken by the memories and personality of Atticus Choi. She would deal with that if she had to. First, she had to get back to him, then she could address whatever challenge presented itself.


    The sound of approaching feet distracted her, and she looked across the rooted field to see Jessila, with Skria gliding overhead. A wave of excitement washed over her at seeing her friends, and then guilt from killing them, or at least trying in Jessila¡¯s case, regret for getting them into the situation in the first place.


    Rosemallow looked over at them as well.


    ¡°One last thing before your friends get here. I told you that Masgret calls you the children of the Great Mind.¡±


    She stood up.


    ¡°Well, in this case, the Great Mind is a god who eats its children."

 Book 2.5: Chapter 28: Reparation

    ¡°Well, in this case, the Great Mind is a god who eats its children,¡± said Rosemallow.


    Several things happened at this point that prevented Lilijoy from following up on Rosemallow¡¯s pronouncement. First, Skria darted over and wrapped her thin arms around Lilijoy, followed by her legs and tail.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry we abandoned you,¡± she whispered.


    Immediately after this, a new great slime mold entered the other side of the clearing, thrashing forward enthusiastically as it followed a trail of dhrowgos parts. Only seconds later Dart flew up.


    ¡°That was unpleasant,¡± she announced. Interspersed with her words were a number of chirps and clicks, that Lilijoy could only assume were untranslated invective.


    Lilijoy began untangling herself from Skria¡¯s cling, only for both of them to be gathered up in Jessila¡¯s powerful arms.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± was all she said, her melodious voice trembling.


    Rosemallow crossed her arms and looked on. After a few more seconds she cleared her throat.


    ¡°Ahem. You three are going to start attracting alicorns if you keep that up.¡±


    Did she just reference...nah. Although someone has to cultivate friendship, right? Lilijoy¡¯s mind reeled with implications nearly as disturbing as being somehow eaten by Guardian. Or at least nearly as distracting.


    After the reunion, there wasn¡¯t much to do but watch as more and more great slime molds made their way to the Greatwood, cleaning as they moved across the clearing and onto the mighty trunk. Lilijoy explained the events of the day as best she could to her friends, though she glossed over everything related to Nandi¡¯s boon and her developing abilities with mana, as well as her first step along the path.


    It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t trust her friends, but that she needed time to wrap her head around what it all meant. That, and her newfound respect for just how powerful Charm could be. She now truly understood that the only secrets she could keep were those that stayed within her own head. It was a lonely feeling, but until she understood how dangerous the information might be, or how it might impact her friends, she wasn¡¯t comfortable sharing it.


    She wanted to continue her conversation with Rosemallow, but the Oni had performed one of her tremendous leaps and made her way back up the tree. The only new information Lilijoy had obtained from her was that Doctor Quimea had self-destructed not long after Rosemallow had recovered from the effects of the suppressing array, once the last of his men had been hurled from the Greatwood. That left the three girls standing by themselves, as Dart had returned to the camp once more to spread the news, hopefully with more success.


    ¡°So what now?¡± Skria asked. ¡°We still have six days to make it back to the Academy.¡±


    What now indeed. Lilijoy thought. She wanted to get back, to find Attaboy, though she was very nervous about who he might be when she found him.


    Any part of him is better than all of him dead. At least I hope so. I wonder what he¡¯ll think of me?


    It occurred to her that the changes to her were possibly just as substantial as anything that had happened to Attaboy.


    Will he even recognize me, past my appearance? Not long ago we were making mud pies and scrounging for food pellets. Now we¡¯re god chow.


    ¡°I need to get back as soon as I can,¡± she replied. ¡°This whole expedition was a waste. Attaboy found his way Inside, to the Academy not long after we left.¡±


    Skria processed that. ¡°Oh. Lily, I¡¯m sorry. But please don¡¯t call this trip a waste. Think of everything we¡¯ve done. Jessila found a source after all. Oh!¡± She flapped her arms as she exclaimed, rising several feet into the air. ¡°I forgot to tell you! Or really Jess did.¡± She looked up at Jessila.


    Jess shuffled her feet and generally looked uncomfortable. ¡°I lost my accomplishment.¡± She had a shy smile on her face.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that great? The elves don¡¯t hate her anymore, so she''s not Despised anymore¡± Skria added. ¡°It happened earlier today. Thankfully, almost all the elves in the Wraiths were tempered, so it didn¡¯t matter that much when we were hanging around their camp, but something about what we did must have percolated through, and now she¡¯s only disliked!¡±


    Seeing Jessila smile caused a small wave of happiness to pass through Lilijoy, and an insight struck.


    Maybe this doesn¡¯t have to be all about me, my experience. Empathy and connections with others is another powerful source of meaning and experience. It¡¯s another form of externality.


    She giggled internally at the thought of telling Doctor Quimea that the secret to growth was the power of friendship. It was definitely stretching the truth, as she understood it, but it was a funny image nonetheless. Then she realized that her insight was not truly a new one, just a different angle on the question of simulation. Human biology was specialized to simulate the neural processes in others when they experienced emotions, to the extent that the degree of a person¡¯s empathy could be measured by the extent their brain activated mirror circuits corresponding to the emotions they perceived.


    She remembered her argument with Quimea on the rooftop.


    It keeps coming back to Rule Three. If I can emulate a system, it implies that I can empathize, and the better the emulation, the more empathy there should be. But is it a necessary connection?


    It wasn¡¯t an easy subject to examine, but she thought the difference might be in whether the emulation was behavioral or motivational. She thought of her combat models, which were certainly behavioral; they tried to predict a future movement based on the recent past, not based on the internal state of the being doing the movement. The problem was, the two types of modeling weren¡¯t mutually exclusive, they could be combined to varying degrees, and overlaid with knowledge about the system as a whole. If she knew someone practiced a particular martial art, one she also understood, then she could predict their movements much better than one she didn¡¯t understand. Did that mean that the knowledge functioned as a kind of constraint, something like a probability cloud in physics?


    There was something tantalizing at the end of this rambling chain of thought, and she promised herself she would return to it sometime soon, but she didn¡¯t have nearly enough time to think it through in the middle of a social interaction.


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing, Jess!¡± she exclaimed.


    Over the next few minutes of conversation, Lilijoy learned that Skria and Jessila had each reached level thirteen, which they were both very pleased about. It gave Lilijoy an excuse to ask them about gathering experience from an Insider perspective.


    ¡°It¡¯s like there¡¯s a fog,¡± Skria explained. ¡°Every time we learn something or feel something new, the fog clears a little bit.¡±


    Jessila gave her a strange look, but didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°What is it, Jess?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°For me, it¡¯s digging, like uncovering something buried.¡±


    ¡°So how literally do you mean it?¡± Lilijoy asked them both. ¡°And how is it that you¡¯ve never talked about it with each other?¡±


    Skria and Jess looked at each other and shrugged.


    ¡°It¡¯s more a feeling than anything, though I¡¯ve heard it gets more vivid later on. I talked about it when I was newly tempered, with others of my kind, so I just assumed everyone felt the same way,¡± said Skria.


    Jess just shrugged again and Lilijoy was reluctant to put her on the spot by inquiring further. She imagined that the big girl hadn¡¯t talked with many other Insiders, besides Skria. So she was a little surprised when Jessila started speaking.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow says I¡¯m uncovering my foundation, and that later on I can build on it. It¡¯s a place in my internal awareness. I can see it.¡± She reached down to pat the ground. ¡°Like this.¡±


    Lilijoy found it apt that her air oriented friend had a more diffuse, fog model, and her earth oriented friend had a more concrete one. What confused her a bit was that both spoke of revealing something that already existed. It was a stark contrast to her chaotic multi-dimensional swirl.


    And what about other Outsiders? she wondered. Or is this just another way I¡¯m not like them, due to my system? Or something that I was supposed to get later, like Rosemallow was saying.


    ¡°What about you, Lily?¡± Skria asked.


    Lilijoy thought fast to find a metaphor beyond a food processor being fed the contents of her experiences.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of like a ball of yarn, always spinning and gathering more threads,¡± she finally said. ¡°I have no idea what it¡¯s supposed to look like or how it¡¯s going to end up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy,¡± Skria chimed in. ¡°It must be like Jess¡¯s foundation. Once you have enough yarn, then you can weave it into something.¡±


    Lilijoy felt her jaw drop a little. ¡°That...¡± She rolled the idea around in her head. ¡°...is really helpful.¡±


    It was all a metaphor on some level, created by her system, fed by the Inside. Her soul vortex was much messier than her ball of yarn comparison implied, and she didn¡¯t expect to be weaving metaphorical sweaters out of it any time soon. Well, ever. But on a meta level, Skria¡¯s notion dovetailed with what Rosemallow had told her, that she needed a critical mass before she could build the connections that would allow her to truly leverage her experience. The soul vortex was simply a tool for doing so.


    Outsiders and Insiders have very different modalities at this stage, she mused. I wonder if that changes in Purgatory? It certainly seems like I¡¯m closer to the Insiders in this way. Though it raises the question of my Outside experience; it certainly seems to add to my soul vortex, so why doesn¡¯t it impact my Inside experience? I guess that¡¯s part of being some weird hybrid, that the simple system of points used by Outsiders applies to leveling up for me. I wonder if I could change that?


    The bomb that Rosemallow had casually dropped in her lap before her friends arrived was still ticking in the back of her mind as well. What could it mean, that Guardian was going to eat her? Her personally? And why would Rosemallow tell her? The extent to which a subset could work against the collective intelligence of Guardian, or the Archon, wasn¡¯t entirely clear, though it seemed like they did have a lot of independence. Was telling her an act of rebellion? Or was it such a certain outcome that it didn¡¯t matter whether she knew or not?


    If it¡¯s a useful warning, I could just leave the Inside, and never come back, right? Turn off my connection to all external data, and live the rest of my life Outside. Once I pass along the warning to Attaboy, anyway.


    She decided to defer any more thinking on the subject until she had a chance to talk to Rosemallow, and possibly Professor Anaskafius, but she filed away the possibility as something she should prepare for emotionally.


    I wonder how Nandi fits into all of this? He seems to like me¡­ maybe I can talk to him somehow. Or maybe he already gave me a hint. That riddle. It didn¡¯t seem like it had anything to do with using the boon.


    With a new sense of urgency, she played the riddle back for herself. Four have come before, only one persists. Seek out the master of five eyes so that there may be two.


    It¡¯s more like a warning. Like I need to seek out the master of five eyes to save someone, possibly myself. If he was warning me personally, then it means that¡­


    She took a moment to review everything she had learned from Rosemallow: A handful of Guardian¡¯s children. This time there were two of them, which was unusual. Great Cycles.


    This would likely be the fifth Great Cycle since Guardian came to be; Dean Reunification said they happen about every thirty years. I would be the fifth. If one remains, that means there¡¯s a way to escape the situation, and this ¡®master of the five eyes¡¯ might know what it is. Except this time, there¡¯s two of us, so does that make Attaboy the sixth? Or are we both needed?


    She thought over the timeline. If Nandi¡¯s message came from when he first gave her the boon, then it seemed likely he wouldn¡¯t have known about Attaboy. That could explain why the numbers were the way they were. It didn¡¯t explain why Nandi would give her such a warning, or what he and now Rosemallow were doing by warning her. It also didn¡¯t explain why Nandi used a particularly obscure riddle to do so.


    So all I need to do is find the master of five eyes. Or is it the Master of Five Eyes? Five eyes...


    Not long ago, she had wracked every ounce of her internet memory, looking for any clues from Outside mythology, literature or history. She had thought that the ''master of five eyes'' might be some obscure deity or spirit incorporated into the Inside, or perhaps it was a character from a book. There were a few possible clues from her search, including a group of plants from the nightshade family, and a species of flounder. It was also the name of an intelligence sharing alliance between five countries in the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.


    None of those things jumped out at her as an obvious connection, but she had filed them away in case further connections arose. She decided that her next step would be to find out as much as she could about the previous Children of the Great Mind, who they were and what happened to them. Who was the ¡®one who persisted¡¯? If they were still around, she could probably learn a lot from them too.


    So I¡¯m back to information gathering. I wonder how sneaky I should be? I don¡¯t know just how secret any of this is. Argh.


    She decided that Rosemallow, Anaskafius and the mystic library would be her starting points. After that, she might know enough to begin to think about next steps.


    She came out of her thoughts, to see Skria and Jessila staring at her.


    Did I really think for that long? I guess I¡¯m starting to abuse my fast thinking.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± she said. ¡°So do you get actual experience points, or do you just pop up a level whenever it¡¯s time?¡±


    Due to Rosemallow¡¯s interference, but she hadn¡¯t seen any kind of running tally of her progress to the next level since the very first days of her Inside experience. She felt a little deprived by this, though not too much anymore, not since she had so many other things Outsiders didn¡¯t.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Nope, no points,¡± Skria said. ¡°It just happens when it happens. My wit-mother hasn¡¯t leveled in years, but she doesn¡¯t mind because she has nurtured her kin during that time.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a wit-mother?¡± asked Lilijoy. It was the first time she¡¯d heard the term.


    Skria scratched her head. ¡°She¡¯s my closest relative who¡¯s also tempered. My blood great-grandmother.¡±


    ¡°You mean...¡± Lilijoy had never really thought through the implications of tempered versus untempered individuals within a family. What would it be like to grow up, and one day realize that all your closest relatives weren¡¯t self aware?


    Oh, wait. I know exactly what that¡¯s like. Heck, I bet most normal Outsider teenagers felt that way.


    ¡°...your family isn¡¯t tempered? What is that like?¡±


    Skria gave her a funny look. ¡°Normal? I mean, there¡¯s way more untempered, and you only notice that they¡¯re a little predictable when something unusual happens.¡±


    ¡°But what about tempered parents? They¡¯re fine with having kids who aren¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. It¡¯s not something we talk about much. I¡¯m sure they love them just the same. I mean, no one¡¯s tempered for at least the first ten years, and usually longer than that.¡±


    ¡°But do they try to temper them? I mean...¡±


    Skria held up a hand, and her words were clipped. ¡°Please. It¡¯s a sensitive subject.¡±


    Now Lilijoy felt bad. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she stammered. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to learn as much as I can so that I understand¡­ all of it.¡±


    Skria nodded, and her ears, which had laid back on her head, popped up a bit. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s...¡±


    At this point, Rosemallow landed nearby with an enormous crash. She gestured to Lilijoy and spoke.


    ¡°Hey kid. The tree wants to talk to you.¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy looked out over the forest of Averdale through the gaping hole in the side of the wooden caldera¡¯s rim.


    ¡°That¡¯s where the annoying guy blew himself up.¡± Rosemallow commented. ¡°It¡¯s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving him a taste of his own medicine, but he wasn¡¯t taking any chances with his respawn.¡±


    Looking at the size of the hole and its jagged black edges, Lilijoy could only nod in agreement.


    No, Quimea wouldn¡¯t leave something like that to chance. I wonder what happened to that Nykka person? I hope she wasn¡¯t too traumatized. Except she could be just as bad as the rest. Maybe worse, if she¡¯s Quimea¡¯s assistant.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t have much sympathy for the Sinaloa members who had been at the tender mercies of the Drowgos. As far as she was concerned, if it prevented them from ever logging in again, that was all the better.


    I suppose they all logged out before the worst part anyway. Hope they enjoy the twenty-four hour debuffs as much as I have.


    A thought occurred to her. ¡°Rosemallow, are the Dhrowgos going to respawn here?¡±


    Rosemallow pursed her lips. ¡°Tricky. It depends a bit on what happens now, with the tree. If it wants them to, then they will, otherwise they¡¯ll come back somewhere in the forest, would be my guess.¡±


    Before Rosemallow had brought Lilijoy up the tree, carrying her like a sack of potatoes as she leapt from massive limb to limb, she had pulled her away from the others and explained a little bit about what was going on.


    ¡°Becoming tempered is never pretty. Some of us call it a second birth, and it tends to share a lot in common with the first one.¡±


    This gave Lilijoy pause. She had never considered the details of how new Insiders came to be. Given that Outsiders didn¡¯t need to go to the bathroom, she had, to the extent she thought about it at all, assumed there must be some less messy Inside version of such events.


    Guess not.


    ¡°Thanks to Eskallia¡¯s methods, this tempering was about as bad as they come. Bad enough that the Archon sent me to help. That¡¯s never happened before.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded along, but it wasn¡¯t what she wanted to be discussing, interesting as it was. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that Rosemallow wouldn¡¯t respond well if she tried to change the subject to child-eating gods.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Rosemallow continued, ¡°most newly tempered are a bit disoriented, and they tend to rely heavily on who they were in their first life. Our problem here is that our little friend¡­¡± she gestured expansively ¡°...didn¡¯t have much of a life. More than you might think, I¡¯m guessing, since it was sort of hooked into the elves, but unfortunately, the elves it was hooked into most recently weren¡¯t exactly good role models. Not their fault, of course. But even when they turned into Dhrowgos, the tree was still connected to them.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded some more. She had picked up that much from her own experience with the Greatwood.


    ¡°So what am I supposed to do?¡± she asked. ¡°Use my ability again?¡±


    Rosemallow winced. ¡°Well, about that,¡± she started, ¡°you know how the newly tempered tend to cling to their first life? Thing is, your ability seems to have put a new spin on that. I don¡¯t think the tree got any of your memories, but it, or maybe I should start saying she, seems to have picked up a bit of your...personality? Anyway, lets get up there and see. She won¡¯t talk to me any more, and there are a few other complications that are easier to see than explain."


    Back at the top of the tree, Lilijoy turned away from the newly created view, and looked out over the floor of the open space of the caldera. It seemed to have been cleaned up some, as there was no longer a hint of stone, and most of the roots were gone as well, whether destroyed or absorbed by the tree, she couldn¡¯t guess.


    The ambient mana was also fresh again, or at least far less corrupted. The slime molds were only about halfway up the trunk, and Lilijoy hoped they wouldn¡¯t be too disappointed if they got to the top.


    Or maybe that¡¯s why the mana is already cleaner up here?


    Her plan, such as it was, had been for the slime molds to help clean up the corruption from Sinaloa and the Dhrowgos, and hopefully make the tree a bit happier. Or less insane. Something like that. When she had been merged with the tree, she had channeled her own rage and desire for destruction to match that of the nascent mind, filled herself and been filled in turn with the darkest aspects of nature.


    It had been necessary, but also very easy.


    It¡¯s really at my core, she realized. Underneath all the knowledge of the internet is Lilijoy from the Piles, who crushed and tore a dog¡¯s face with her teeth. Who faced hunger and abuse every day. Who does whatever is necessary to survive. If it weren¡¯t for my friendship with Attaboy, I would be¡­ well, I don¡¯t know. But it wouldn¡¯t be pretty. I wouldn¡¯t be on a path of joyful anticipation, that¡¯s for sure.


    That same darkness was within the Greatwood, and what it, or she, needed was balance. To understand that the darkness within was a tool for survival, not a goal in and of itself.


    That¡¯s the difference between nature and evil. In nature, the darkness has built in limits. If the parasite is too greedy, if the disease kills too fast, if the predator kills for sport, then the system will correct against their success, eventually. Evil is when a process proliferates without balance, whether that proliferation is within the mind, or out in the world.


    It wasn¡¯t a clear distinction, she realized, but a continuum, or a curve even, where evil could be said to occur at a certain inflection point.


    It was Rule One.


    Oh boy. There¡¯s a rabbit hole I don¡¯t need to go down right now.


    She resisted the temptation to pull up and analyze Rule One, and turned her attention to the wooden figure standing in front of the heart of the Greatwood.Roughly human shaped, over six feet tall, and covered with a thick mesh of overlapping roots, it was one of the things Rosemallow had thought too difficult to explain.


    What¡¯s so hard to explain about that? she wondered.


    She approached, and as she did, she realized that there was a human body at the center of the of the root bundle. Closer still, and she realized that the roots mingled with flesh, penetrating and weaving through the body. All she could make out of the original appearance was the lower face, which sported a thin mustache and goatee.


    She reached a position just a few feet away and looked up.


    ¡°Hello?¡± she said.


    The figure''s jaw worked back and forth several times with a dull cracking sound before opening. A high pitched voice, slurred and indistinct issued forth. A girl¡¯s voice. Her voice.


    ¡°Hello.¡± The voice said. ¡°I miss you. Why did you leave?¡±


    Lilijoy shuddered, repulsed and sympathetic at the same time. It wasn¡¯t entirely clear to her what she was supposed to accomplish by talking to the tree, which she assumed was using the body as a horrifying ventriloquist¡¯s dummy. She decided that being as clear and honest as possible would be a good way to start.


    ¡°I had to get away from the Dhrowgos and the bad people who hurt you. But I¡¯m back now, and I brought the slime molds to help get you cleaned up.¡±


    The jaw worked around a few times. ¡°Are you going to stay? I kept some of the bad guys to play with.¡±


    More of the root infiltrated bodies rose from the wood around her. Lilijoy knew they were just the abandoned shells of the Sinaloa Outsiders, but it was still a grotesque spectacle. Almost as disturbing as listening to her own voice issue from a grown man root-puppet.


    Now it¡¯s a real torture garden. This is such a mess. Why am I the one who¡¯s supposed to clean it up again?


    ¡°It was fun destroying all their buildings and punishing them, wasn¡¯t it?¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re very fun like that though.¡±


    ¡°But I can move them around!¡± The arms of several of the bodies flopped limply. ¡°I¡¯m getting pretty good at it.¡±


    Lilijoy could see Rosemallow, off to the side, shaking her head with her hand over her eyes.


    ¡°Wow¡­that¡¯s...impressive,¡± she said, trying to be encouraging, while not entirely sure if she should be. She stopped herself from suggesting the tree form a dance troupe.


    Although a kick-line would be pretty funny. Maybe I should teach her how to sing while I¡¯m at it.


    Some part of Lilijoy, a part of her that was so, so, tired of being used, of being pushed around and told what to do without knowing why, wanted to use this situation to push back.


    The Archon sat on his butt and let Sinaloa torture Insiders for decades. The Archon let Eskallia do whatever it was she did to me. I¡¯d like the Greatwood to be happy, but if what makes her happy is playing puppets with Outsider bodies and farming Dhrowgos, why should I stand in the way? Let the Archon fix it if he wants.


    ¡°You know what?¡± she said. ¡°I think that¡¯s pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. I think I could do more, but I¡¯m really tired from before. I can¡¯t move many roots at all right now.¡±


    ¡°So what are you going to do with the Dhrowgos?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I don¡¯t really like the way they feel, but they¡¯ve been with me for so long. I miss them. Do you know where they went?¡±


    Lilijoy decided now was not the time to educate the tree about death and respawning. ¡°Not really, but I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll come back eventually. Of course the slime molds will eat them when they do, if they are still around.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I kind of like those too. They tickle.¡±


    ¡°The slime molds may want to eat your puppets too,¡± Lilijoy warned. ¡°If they do, the puppets won¡¯t ever come back.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± said the tree. ¡°I¡¯ve got lots. I¡¯m keeping them alive with my roots. Would you like to stay with me forever and be a puppet too?¡±


    Well, that took a dark turn. How is she going to react if I say I don¡¯t? Change the subject, quick!


    ¡°Do you remember the elves? They used to live on you, and some of them turned into the Dhrowgos because the bad men hurt them so much.¡±


    There was a long silence. Then the bodies around her began to twitch and jerk. The one she had been talking to tried to say something, but Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell what, because the jaw kept flopping shut in the middle of words.


    I think I hit a nerve or something.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she called out. ¡°I can¡¯t understand you.¡±


    Rosemallow was making some kind of hand signal, which Lilijoy ignored. Finally the Greatwood calmed down enough to get out a few words.


    ¡°They left me! Left ME!¡±


    The entire tree shook with her last word and one of the bodies was ripped apart, showering Lilijoy with blood.


    Oookay, she thought as she wiped her face with one hand. Some abandonment issues. Guess that¡¯s understandable. But again, not my problem.


    She walked over to Rosemallow, dripping as she went.


    ¡°Whatever you think I¡¯m supposed to do here, which no one has bothered to explain to me, it¡¯s not going to happen.¡± She drew upon her recovering system to maintain her calm. ¡°This tree needs a therapist, not a thirteen year-old.¡±


    The tree shook more and several more of the puppet-bodies exploded in showers of gore behind her. She ignored it.


    She also ignored Rosemallow¡¯s expression as she continued, her hands finding their way to her hips.


    ¡°If the Archon wants this fixed he can get someone else to do it. Or get off his ass and do it himself. I''m sure there must be some Gongen who cultivates¡­ I don¡¯t know, emotional attachment or something. Or he can just wave a hand and keebler up the tree again or something. All I know is, I¡¯ve had it with mysteries and riddles. I did what I needed to do, which I didn¡¯t need to do anyway it turns out, and now I¡¯m going to go back to the Academy and get Attaboy. And...¡±


    At this point, she became aware that Rosemallow was no longer looking at her, and that the air had become still and silent. A bird hovered in the distance, stopped in mid flight. She turned slowly, following Rosemallow¡¯s gaze, and found a figure in brown robes standing behind her. He had a hood over his head, but she could make out a gray beard and dark eyes.


    ¡°¡­ seriously?¡± she finished.


    ¡°Seriously.¡± he replied. ¡°I have a gift for you, wrapped in a parable.¡±


    She tried really hard, but her eyes rolled anyway. ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can.¡± the Archon replied.


    ¡°You know, I do kind of get why you don¡¯t just fix things all the time. You need to generate meaning; consequences, and struggle, and discovery and all of that stuff. It¡¯s pretty much your reason for existence, right? So you¡¯re always trying to balance bad things and good things, ignorance and knowledge, creating opportunities for struggle and growth.¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°So why now? Why drop in now, and offer me a gift wrapped in a parable, or whatever?¡±


    A hint of a smile crossed his shadowed face. ¡°Just a little gardening.¡±


    ¡°And you can¡¯t do that through the Gongen?¡±


    ¡°That would be the same for me, but not for you.¡±


    So I¡¯m just being manipulated. He figures a personal appearance will sway me to...what? Stay Inside so I can be eaten later?


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s only a half-truth. Your teacher means well, but she can¡¯t help but create conflict, even when acting from compassion.¡±


    Aaand he¡¯s reading my thoughts. Hi! Stay out of my mind, please.


    ¡°I am in your mind, you are in my mind¡­ it¡¯s interesting isn¡¯t it?¡± he said.


    She split her mind and partitioned the areas of her senses impacted by the Inside, making the outward facing part of herself, the part connected to the Inside, little more than a vehicle for passing along her words.


    ¡°Well done!¡± he said. ¡°Now imagine running a couple million of those. It gets tiresome, so you end up giving them enough processing power to get along on their own. Sometimes, they get a little out of balance and create situations that require a more direct approach. Though keep in mind, the avatar you are talking to is basically the same thing, an outward facing sub-unit that can relay my intent. It¡¯s mostly symbolic.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, unsure if she was being sarcastic or not. Mostly not, she decided. It was refreshing to get something approaching an answer, even to a question she hadn¡¯t asked. Although¡­


    ¡°But you still haven¡¯t answered my question, not really. Why now?¡±


    ¡°Because I want you to decide. It is your right.¡±


    He pulled a ripe fruit of a kind she didn¡¯t recognize from his robe. The fruit was radiant, red and firm, it looked delicious. She could smell it where she stood, and felt her mouth water.


    Am I Eve or Snow White? she wondered.


    He approached and offered her the fruit.


    I guess this is the gift wrapped in a parable. Yay? I think I already learned the ¡®don¡¯t take candy from strangers¡¯ lesson from Head Treetouched. Although I really wasn¡¯t given a choice, at least initially. My mistake was using her ¡®gift¡¯ without understanding what it was. Still¡­


    She hesitated, not sure what she might be agreeing to by taking the offering.


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink this,¡± the Archon said. ¡°Or rather, think carefully about real sources of danger.¡±


    Real sources. Right. Like everything around me. He doesn¡¯t need to trick me; it¡¯s not like I¡¯m Persephone eating in the underworld. This is all sensory data, but even if it wasn¡¯t, it could come through my eyes just as easily as my hand.


    She took it. At the touch of her hand, the fruit began to wither, the skin wrinkled and blemished, decaying before her eyes. A strong, sour smell hit her nose, and she reflexively looked around to make sure Slimey wasn¡¯t near, before she remembered that time around them had stopped.


    She looked from the disgusting mess in her hand to the Archon.


    ¡°Thanks?¡±


    He nodded, then vanished. Time resumed.


    What the heck was that?


    She looked back at the rotten fruit, contemplating what to do with it, wondering what this was supposed to convey to her.


    I suppose I should think it through before I throw it over the side. Wasn¡¯t I just complaining about riddles and mysteries?


    She had to admit that she was intrigued at least as much as she was annoyed though. Maybe because this was a puzzle she could hold, or ultimately throw away if she wanted.


    The gift of rotten fruit. Except it rotted when I received it. He did say it was a parable, so I shouldn¡¯t overthink it. Could it really be that obvious? We are in the Garden after all. So the fruit would represent knowledge of some kind. It was whole and beautiful in his possession, but it became disgusting and useless when he transferred it.


    She was pretty sure that was the message. It was a warning, or maybe an apology, that knowledge couldn¡¯t be given freely without corrupting it.


    So then, what¡¯s the gift? What does a rotten fruit have to offer to my circumstances?


    The answer felt obvious, once she thought like a gardener. She threw the fruit onto the ground, smashing it into pieces and revealing a silver seed. She heard a sharp intake of breath behind her from Rosemallow.


    ¡°Do you understand what that is?¡± her trainer asked. Her voice was strained and tight.


    Lilijoy looked back at her, to see a look of absolute shock and sorrow upon Rosemallow¡¯s face.


    What could have such an impact? ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± she replied.


    ¡°That-¡± Rosemallow¡¯s voice broke. ¡°That is my oldest friend. That is Eskallia Everbough.¡±


    Head Treetouched. This is my gift, and my choice. It¡¯s not much of a choice, really, but still a nice gesture.


    Now Lilijoy understood. Eskallia had been punished, reduced to this small, silver seed. Once she had held Lilijoy in her grasp and manipulated her fate, now Lilijoy had the same power over her.


    The gift was justice. The choice was¡­ obvious.


    She walked back to address the Greatwood.


    ¡°How would you like a friend who will never abandon you?¡± she asked.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 29: Syntropy

    Lilijoy opened her eyes. One eye, anyway. At first, she thought the other was gunked shut, after spending well over eight hours in what was effectively a coma. Soon though she realized that her right eyelid just wasn¡¯t working, at least not very well.


    Great. I had a stroke or something.


    Most of the damage to her brain that could be repaired had been, and her Stage One system was fully recovered. There were still a few areas that would need help for weeks to months, but it was hard to know just how much help until she tried to use them. She easily switched over to the alternate circuits she¡¯d been using Inside, and her eyelid popped open to join its neighbor.


    Otherwise, she felt about the way she had after a week in the pod. Really crappy.


    She and Anda had agreed that eight hours of immobility would be enough for the med bugs and her recovered system to finish patching her up, and she had used those hours well. She had left a small part of herself on the Inside, just enough to follow the others on their return to the Academy. They had all agreed that a nice slow stroll through sunny meadows would be just perfect, and elected to spend four days on their instanced travel, so she wasn¡¯t worried that she would need to fight. She figured Jessila could always carry her if absolutely necessary, though she hoped it wouldn¡¯t come to that.


    Of course, the main drawback was the extra time before she could see Attaboy, but her system was easily able to dial back her sense of urgency, plus she had decided that an extended stay on the Outside would be a good idea.


    After her return, the first urgent task was to take care of her midges. They weren¡¯t doing well. Many of them had already died of old age, and the majority that were left were approaching senescence.


    Sorry, little guys. I was busy frying my brain.


    Fortunately, her flowers were doing just fine, even the ones currently housed in dead flies. After an unpleasant couple of hours gathering up close to a million tiny bodies, she was able to reclaim most of her satellites. Once that was finished, she spent the rest of the day remodeling a smaller group of a few thousand, replacing their neural tissue with Stage One, extending their lifespans, and improving their range for sending and receiving signals. By the time she was done, most of her original batch had moved on to midge heaven.


    Even though she only had about a tenth of a percent of her swarm left, her effective range for scouting and surveillance remained about the same, as the improved midges could send a signal about five feet, and no longer insisted on clustering together. She was pleased to note that developing her mana sense on the Inside had crossed back over to working with the midges, and she was able to use their senses much better than before.


    During the night, she rested her body and cultivated. The collapse of her Stage One units due to Eskallia¡¯s plot inspired her to work toward having a significantly more robust network of redundancies and backups, and she went about creating a system of reserves and storage for redundant units throughout her body. In hindsight, it was clear to her that she had spread her resources too thin in her desire to capture so many midges; had she kept half of her satellites within her prosthetic arm, she could have called them back to her brain when disaster struck.


    Never again, she thought.I have a virtually unlimited amount of feedstock, and as much time as I need. The Piles can wait. The Master of Five Eyes can wait.


    A new idea struck as she seeded Stage One flowers throughout her body.


    I coordinate my swarm of midges through radio frequency signals, for now anyway. What if I built an internal network to convey signals to my muscles the same way? At the very least, it could be used in emergencies, like if my spine was damaged.


    She spent the next day, other than some breaks for food and other necessities, continuing to churn out vast numbers of Stage One flowers and simultaneously building her new fly-by-wireless nervous system. The latter was very slow going, but by the end of the day, she had achieved something like ten percent redundancy by focusing on the major muscle groups, enough, in theory, to enable her to move around and perform simple tasks if something should damage her original nerves.


    When it was time, she tested the new system, careful to keep the timing of the impulses in line with the conduction speed of her biological components. She started by contracting her bicep.


    Okay. Arm moving¡­ feels right, like I¡¯m the one doing it. Proprioception seems good. I wonder what it¡¯s going to be like to integrate balance when I try to walk?


    She tinkered with the system for several more hours, capturing the firing patterns for various motions and replicating them, learning the feedback loops between proprioception, balance and nerve impulse and recreating them over her internal wireless network. By the time the sun was down, she could walk and use her arms without any use of her spinal cord.


    There¡¯s one major weakness addressed. Now if I could just study some bone bugs¡­


    She had many ideas about ways to strengthen her skeletal system, from increasing the density of calcium deposits to incorporating weaves of diamond nanofibers, like those found in her Rank Five skin. She was reluctant to embark on her own experimentation though, because she knew from talking with Anda that it was a well studied problem within the clans who specialized in bone augmentation. It wouldn¡¯t be easy for her test for brittleness, or to find the ideal ratios of strength and flexibility, or to find which substrates worked best with her own biology on her own.


    Bones were living organs, not simple sticks that could be arbitrarily replaced, and evolution had been solving these problems for millions of years. She needed something tried and true to study before she started replacing things willy-nilly.


    What she did instead was greatly reinforce the skin covering her skull; her face would still be vulnerable, but now she suspected it would take something truly substantial to penetrate her cranium. That wouldn¡¯t protect her from concussion, or the underlying bone fragmenting the way it did with Anda¡¯s injury, but it was better than nothing.


    She continued to cultivate through the night, allowing one hemisphere of her brain to sleep at a time, a trick inspired by learning how whales and dolphins managed to sleep without drowning. She could, if she wanted, allow her entire brain to sleep while she kept her consciousness in Stage Two, but she was reluctant to revisit the perils of a mind disconnected from biology, not unless there was a pressing need.


    For the most part Anda stayed Inside, working with Mr. Sennit and the other crafters of Academy Town to solidify their position against an inevitable clan crackdown. Attaboy had yet to emerge from the Academy, and they had decided that Anda should simply wait for him to make an appearance, rather than try to pass messages through random students. It was only a matter of time; either Lilijoy would arrive, or Attaboy would come to town.


    As the sun rose on the next day, Lilijoy pulled up her system status.


    <table width="367" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td>STATUS: Disciple, First Circle</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353" height="160">


    Stage One


    Nanobody count: 39,467,004


    Integration: 99%


    Stage Two


    Replication Units: 417


    FLOPS Equivalent: 10^17.1


    Integration: 79%


    Secondary/Support: 3/4 implemented


    Communications: Internal network


    Sensors: Passive


    RE Reserves: 1.23 kg mixed


    Personal Quantification: Ranking Display


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353">


    Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Due to her current lack of trust for Immortal Crystal Oak, she had decided not to develop Stage Two for the time being. but she was very pleased to see that her integration percentage had risen by five points, probably because of the necessity to develop parallel motor circuits. Her Stage One numbers looked great, and they didn¡¯t even include the external satellite units she was storing in her prosthetic arm.


    She advanced to the personal quantification.


    <hr>


    Tao System Ranking Display


    Rank 1 (Senses): 10


    Can advance with physical augmentation


    Sight: 10


    Hearing: 10


    Internal Chemical Analysis: 10


    Expand molecular database


    Atmospheric Chemical Analysis: 4


    Touch: 10


    Proprioception: 9


    Synergy: Not defined


    Rank 2 (Brain): 10


    Rank 3 (Reflexes): 9/10


    Myelin enhancement in progress (86%)


    Unconscious response to stimuli ~5x


    (Biological/Redundant)


    Rank 4 (Blood): 2/2


    Oxygen carrying capacity ~ 30x


    Rapid clotting for injuries ~ 10x


    Limited independent motility


    Rank 5 (Skin): 8/10


    Vital areas fully protected


    Abdominal coverage 100%


    Extremities 100%


    Work on:


    chemical synthesis and secretion


    Rank 6-10


    Stolen story; please report.requires secondary system


    Rank 11 Brain II:


    Internal subjective time: ~x30


    External subjective time: ~x10


    Parallel Narrative Consciousness: 2+


    External data accessible at speeds comparable to memory


    Work on:


    background anticipatory modeling


    dedicated sub-processing units


    connections, dependencies and meaning in external data sets


    Rank 12 Medical/Tissue:


    Current repository 872 Billion Grade 4 equivalent


    Precancerous cells eliminated


    Environmental effects mitigated


    Genetic damage inventoried


    Up to moderate tissue damage repaired ~x20


    Work on rapid skin pigment control


    Rank 13 External


    Satellite storage system: 10,000,000 units


    Work on:


    entangled particle communication system


    offensive capabilities


    external processing units


    <hr>


    She felt great about her satellite units. Each one was a cluster of fifty flowers, just enough to form its own distributed antenna. Next time she wanted to capture a midge cloud, or a human being for that matter, she would be able to do it with ease, as long as she was close enough to touch them. Though if she wanted to attack from a distance, she was still going to need to weaponize her midges or find some other type of delivery system.


    She wasn¡¯t sure how to categorize her new, parallel nervous system. In the future, she thought it would serve in place of Rank Nine, since it had the potential to deliver signals from her muscles to her brain and back at light speed. The problem was, at the moment it could only mimic her existing nerve impulses, as slow as they were. She would need to complete the project and then learn an entirely new form of muscle control and coordination to make use of the faster signal propagation. Not only that, but she feared that it would be distinctly vulnerable to outside interference, aggressive signal blockers and EMPs in particular, as well as possibly leaking and giving away her position. She would need some way to protect her internal radio frequencies.


    You know, maybe I could turn most of my skin into a Faraday cage? Potentially all of it, if I built an external antenna.


    She added the idea to her to do list for Rank Five, which she had completed the day before. It was a little mysterious why it was only rated an eight out of ten, since her skin''s entire surface area had been reinforced. She figured it was another Maasai trick she was missing and made a mental note to ask Anda about it.


    Beyond that, there were only a few changes. At first she was pleased when she saw that the conversion of myelin had progressed so quickly, leaping to eighty-five percent. She sobered up quickly when she realized that it was due to the overall reduction of places in her brain with unconverted myelin, due to the areas in her brain that had sustained damage.


    That¡¯s one way to get to total coverage. Just remove all the parts I haven¡¯t gotten to yet and voila!


    She left her internal awareness and sat back, taking a moment to savor the crazy notion that she could do anything she pleased with her day. If she wanted, she could jump back in to action and visit the Piles, or take a few more days and work with her midges.


    Or just sit and watch the sun rise. That sounds about right.


    After a while, sitting on top of the canopy of the hovercar and enjoying what passed for a nice day in the Amazon wastes, her thoughts returned to the Inside, to a silver seed, not quite an acorn, that fit easily in the palm of her hand with her fingers closed around it.


    Who¡¯s going to run the Academy now? she remembered thinking. Would anyone notice a difference if no one did? It can¡¯t have been very practical, having a grove of trees in charge. I hope that Dean Reunification doesn¡¯t take over.


    She was still processing the notion that the Dean was Attaboy¡¯s advisor.


    The Academy is such a strange place. I¡¯m pretty sure its primary purpose is to provide drama and conflict, rather than educate. Although my perspective may be a bit skewed.


    She wondered what the experience of a normal Outsider was like, what it would be like to stay there for years, slowly learning and leveling. She knew that there were classes specifically for Outsiders as well, where they learned to make use of their personal databases of math and science. What the rare student with no clan connections did to learn those things she couldn¡¯t say.


    Probably they get adopted by a clan. That¡¯s certainly what would have happened with me if circumstances were different. I wonder why on earth everyone organized into clans anyway. It seems so strange that all these different groups just decided to adopt similar systems. It can¡¯t be a coincidence. I guess when in doubt, blame Guardian.


    She let her thoughts drift for a while as the breeze picked up, carrying with it small grains of mildly radioactive sand. The decaying particles sent a gentle crackling through her system that was strangely soothing.


    I should probably go back in the craft. But I¡¯m tired of turning off my smell.


    After all the happenings and over a week of close living, the interior of the craft had picked up a distinct aroma.


    It¡¯s a good thing there aren¡¯t great slime molds out here. They¡¯d be coming from miles around. On the other hand, the Outside could do with a good cleaning. Maybe they¡¯d be just the thing. I¡¯m sure they would love the great swamp.


    She spent a few seconds calculating whether something like the great slime molds could feasibly exist on the Outside.


    Only in water I guess. It¡¯s probably for the best anyway; Guardian would get annoyed if I tried to make something like that. It would violate Rule One I suppose.


    She thought back to her earlier idea about the relationship between evil and Rule One, and pulled up her latest version to follow the notion further.


    <hr>


    Rule One: Maintaining an optimized entropic balance is valuable. State shifts in bounded negatively entropic regions caused by asymptotic growth curves threaten system stability.


    Resource concentrating processes on such a curve may not proceed past an upper limit defined by individual or collective simulation capacity. Avoiding phase changes in entropic distribution permits intervention in accordance with simulation capabilities.


    <hr>


    Well, that¡¯s pithy, she noted.


    It took her some thought to parse the meaning of the new version. As usual, it wasn¡¯t hard for her to see how her earlier version of the rule was related, though the language had changed considerably.


    I can¡¯t wait until I¡¯m smart enough to just understand the glyph, she thought. But I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s a long way away.


    It was interesting to see that Guardian¡¯s primary concern was maintaining a certain range or state of entropy within the system. Since ''system'' was left undefined, she assumed that it could refer to anything from a single computer to the Earth as a whole. She knew that life could be considered as a form of negative entropy, and figured that a being or an ecosystem could be called a ¡®bounded negatively entropic region¡¯. At least, that¡¯s what she thought was going on.


    What was of particular interest was Guardian¡¯s talk of ¡®state shifts¡¯ and ¡®phase changes¡¯. It seemed to her that death could be considered a state shift, for the region of bounded negative entropy that defined a human being, for example. The second paragraph seemed to overlap with Rule Three to some extent, limiting the use of growth processes than might proceed exponentially to those with the capacity to simulate them. Only a being that could hold an outcome entirely within its mind would be allowed to tinker with such things, and only such a being was allowed to intervene in order to prevent an undesired state shift.


    Which in Guardian¡¯s case means blasting it with space lasers. I wonder if Guardian follows its own rules, if these rules are primarily its own code of conduct?


    Naturally, there was no mention of ¡®evil¡¯ per se, no surprise there, but Lilijoy found that the new Rule One dovetailed well with her own musings on the subject. Evil would be unbalanced growth, whether it manifested externally or internally. Thoughts or emotions propagating rampantly within the mind could violate this rule just as easily as a plague of demon nanobots. To a being like Guardian, who held entire worlds within, such a distinction might be entirely meaningless.


    So was what Eskallia did evil? I guess if I follow Rule One, then I¡¯m not fit to judge.


    Rosemallow had told Lilijoy Eskallia¡¯s story, her despair and growing obsession with avenging Averdale, followed by the years of peace after she allowed herself to become treetouched.


    ¡°For the longest time I thought she had used treetouched as a kind of medicine, as a way to overcome her rage,¡± Rosemallow had confided. ¡°And maybe she was, for a while. Or maybe she intended something like this all along. After all, for someone like her, treetouched was the barest restraint. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me to learn that she formed the rough outline of her plan a couple cycles ago, that she was just waiting for the right opportunity. Maybe someday I will ask her.¡±


    Rosemallow had looked over at the small sapling, growing within the Greatwood¡¯s mighty caldera. The seed had sprouted and grown to about a foot in height as soon as Lilijoy planted it, after the Greatwood agreed to her proposal.


    ¡°Do you think she will remember?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure,¡± Rosemallow replied. ¡°Last time, she abandoned her body willingly and formed the beginnings of the grove that you entered. This time, she¡¯s just so¡­ small.¡± She sighed.


    ¡°Well, that should be great for someone who cultivates growth,¡± said Lilijoy in an attempt to cheer up her trainer. ¡°Maybe someday she¡¯ll be as big as the fallen part of the Greatwood.¡±


    Rosemallow had snorted. ¡°She¡¯d like that.¡±


    The rest of their conversation, before Lilijoy was pulled away by her friends to begin the journey back to the Academy, had been about her role as a Child of Guardian. Rosemallow had explained that prior to each previous cycle, an unusually talented Outsider had arrived, one who would exceed the limitations of the Garden within a year.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is, but Insiders could always tell that they were different from the other Outsiders, more like us in many ways. Some of them have had a profound impact in their short time here. I suspect Eskallia¡¯s course was profoundly altered by two of them, though I couldn¡¯t tell you whether it was for the better. It was after she met the second, more than sixty years ago, that she became treetouched.¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything else about them? Did you meet any of them?¡±


    Rosemallow shook her head. ¡°No. I¡¯ve only heard the stories, been at the Academy since just after the second cycle.¡±


    Guess the last two or three didn¡¯t come to the Academy. I wonder why?¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯m the first to come to the Academy?¡±


    Rosemallow nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not impossible that the very first was around for the Academy¡¯s earliest days, but not much is known of that one, not even a name.¡±


    ¡°But you do know the names of the others?¡±


    Lilijoy felt a tinge of excitement. A name wasn¡¯t much, unless it was everything.


    ¡°Yes. After Nameless came Atticusp, then Echelon, then Sarahfly,¡± Rosemallow said.


    Lilijoy¡¯s brain exploded a little. It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence that the second shared a similar name to Atticus Choi.


    Adding a p on the end seems like something an Outsider choosing their Inside name might do. Makes a nice pun.


    While she was still trying to figure out what to make of another Atticus showing up, her brain was tickling. There was some connection, some bit of trivia in her internet memory trying to emerge. But it wasn¡¯t about the second name.


    Echelon. Where have I¡­


    The connection formed, solidified, and she knew.


    Project Echelon. Code name for a covert surveillance system in the twentieth century. Run by the Five Eyes alliance. He named himself Echelon. It''s a direct connection.


    She knew the identity of the Master of Five Eyes. Probably.


    If it wasn¡¯t Echelon, it was someone who knew him. If it was Echelon, then the Master of Five Eyes and the one who remained were one and the same.


    Perched on the hovercar overlooking the Amazon waste, Lilijoy felt a warm surge of accomplishment at the memory of the revelation. She had tried to avoid thinking of it over the past few days, tucked it away so she could enjoy the past few days of growth and development without urgency. But perhaps it was time to start moving again.


    She hopped off the car while messaging Anda to return from the Inside. It was time for her to visit the Piles. After that, she would return to the Academy and reunite with Attaboy. Then, all she needed to do was find Echelon.


    How hard could it be? she thought.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 30: Homecoming

    Interlude: Echelon


    Sixty-eight years previous:


    Sergei blinked his wide brown eyes, once, then twice. In front of him was a flat area, full of green spikes.


    ¡°Danger,¡± he mumbled to himself. ¡°Sharp.¡±


    He fought the urge to sit and lost. Once he was closer to the ground, everything was better. There was less to see, less¡­ world. He closed his eyes and rocked, counting with each movement.


    ¡°One, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty one¡­¡±


    When he reached seven billion, seven hundred and seventy-eight million, seven hundred forty-two thousand and forty nine, he stopped and opened his eyes again. It was his favorite way to calm himself, he¡¯d been doing it as long as he could remember. Of course, now that he had his system, he didn¡¯t need to count for nearly as long to make the world settle back into place. Still, it was an old comfort, and one not easily abandoned.


    Now that everything made sense again, he noticed there was a white, stone path wending its way through the danger. ¡°Don¡¯t forget. Identify and learn,¡± he announced.


    He focused his vision against the bright light and captured an image. ¡°Identify.¡±


    ¡°Hello Sergei,¡± said a soothing voice. ¡°You are seeing grass. Closest match is Poa chaixii, broad-leafed meadow grass.¡±


    He rolled the words around, tasting the colors of the letters. Chaixii seemed a little threatening, but when paired with Poa the name became well balanced. He was quite pleased with himself for remembering his mission. ¡°Identify and learn,¡± he affirmed once more.


    Abruptly he felt tired. This new world was too much to take more than a little at a time.


    ¡°System. Log. Out.¡± he pronounced, closing his eyes in anticipation of the jarring transition.


    When he opened them again, he was home. He could hear his mother in the light room, softly cleaning.


    She must have forgotten I can turn down my ears now, he decided. His system was still pretty new for all of them; he was the only one in the family to have one. His parents had paid forty years for it, whatever that meant.


    Over the next week, he made his way across the field, identifying and learning as he went, careful not to miss a single unique aspect of this new world.


    His new world.


    <hr>


    Chapter 30: Homecoming


    The lush grass of the meadow served as a comfortable resting place for a weary Urglah. He rested his eyes, enjoying the patterns of the warm light seeping through the lids, waving bands of white and orange.


    This is the life, Anda thought, listening to the excited sounds of the little group he was overseeing.


    ¡°Get it!¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d it go?¡±


    ¡°Hey, watch where you¡¯re waving that thing.¡±


    ¡°Watch out! It¡¯s about to-¡±


    ¡°Ouch!¡±


    ¡°I know¡­ little sucker packs a punch, eh?¡±


    After several more minutes, there was a final sounding crunch, and he opened one eye lazily.


    Ah. Looks like they finally got one.


    ¡°All hail the mighty warriors,¡± he called out.


    A grandmotherly woman looked over her shoulder with a girlish smile where she stood, holding what in any other context might be mistaken for a walking stick, the broken body of her ferocious enemy at her feet.


    ¡°Killed a bunny, huh?¡±


    ¡°You better believe it, sonny boy. Bow at the sight of my might!¡±


    Mrs. Chang was one of Anda¡¯s favorites. She ran a small food stand just off the market square, and he hadn¡¯t let a day pass without passing by to pick up some of her amazing jiaozi dumplings.


    Too bad she¡¯s only level four. What on earth did she do in the Trial anyway?


    He could understand why very few of the crafters had leveled during their Inside indenture. Monotonous service to a clan, doing exactly the same things every day for years on end was hardly a recipe for gathering experience. Mrs. Chang hadn¡¯t been outdoors on the Inside until she finished her term the previous year.


    ¡°And...¡± she continued, ¡°I just received a notification of level five!¡±


    Anda smiled inwardly at her phrasing. ¡°That¡¯s fantastic!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Don¡¯t spend those points until we have a chance to chat later.¡±


    She winked. ¡°It¡¯s a date, dearie.¡±


    The rest of the gray-haired group gathered around to congratulate her, as a message from Lilijoy arrived.


    <hr>


    Hi Anda ¨C I think it¡¯s finally time! Can you log out when you are free?


    <hr>


    He stood. ¡°All right, everyone. I want each of you to get at least one rabbit before sunset. Maybe Mrs. Chang will use them for dumplings tomorrow. Remember what we worked on and you¡¯ll be fine. Just make sure to get back to town before dark. We don¡¯t need any more deaths dragging you down.¡±


    Lilijoy had passed along her knowledge of how death erased recent experience gains. Since his little group was well past the point of receiving experience for act of dying itself, leveling without dying had become the main priority.


    Not so easy when the average age is north of seventy, and the average level south of five. Another thought struck him. I wonder if they know they can alter their appearance over time?


    It wouldn¡¯t surprise him if they didn¡¯t. The clan¡¯s ability to limit their knowledge, coupled with what seemed to him an appalling lack of curiosity, meant that most of them took everything at face value. He was working on changing that, and thankfully, his new friends were very receptive, if not always incredibly quick to apply new information.


    He looked over the group one more time as they turned to face a new lagomorphic peril, weapons held over their heads, feet firmly planted.


    This is going to take a long time, he thought.


    ***


    By the time Anda returned from the Inside, Lilijoy had the hovercar moving toward the Piles.


    ¡°Any sign?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Of Attaboy? Not a hair. I have all the crafters and merchants keeping an eye out for an Academy student your size, but no luck so far. Mr. Sennit says hi by the way. He keeps asking when you are getting back to show him your hand-weaving progress.¡±


    Lilijoy winced. Her crafting had not been high on her list of priorities recently. Or really on the list in the first place. Anda saw her reaction and continued.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he really cares about that though. He just wants to see you.¡±


    ¡°I want to see him too. Thanks for helping them while I¡¯m away.¡±


    Anda chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s been entertaining, when I didn¡¯t want to pull out my hair in frustration.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have hair,¡± she reminded him.


    ¡°Oh, but I do! There ain''t no words for the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of my¡­ well, I guess it¡¯s more like fur. But still.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Lilijoy ignored his quotation abuse. ¡°Anyway¡­ I think we should leave the car back a bit so we don¡¯t alarm them. Can you remote pilot it if we need a quick pickup?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t love the idea of walking in without a quick escape. What if there¡¯s a trap?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to send in the midges first. Unless they¡¯re wearing a space suit, I¡¯ll see anyone who¡¯s hiding by their breath. But I think the odds are pretty good that there won¡¯t be any surprises.¡±


    Any surprises like that, anyway, she thought.


    After another thirty minutes, the terrain became familiar.


    ¡°There,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s stop by that gulch.¡±


    There it was. The ditch where she had found the cattails on that fateful day. It was smaller than she remembered, and the water was nearly gone, the cattails that remained dry, brown sausages waiting to explode with any impact.


    ¡°It¡¯s only a couple miles from here. Hold on, there¡¯s something I need to do.¡±


    She left the hovercar and walked across the cracked earth to the nearest cattail. She grabbed hold of the fibrous stick and wrenched it loose.


    ¡°Attaboy and I used to hit each other with these the few times we found some. It was the closest thing we had to a toy that actually did something.¡±


    She waved her cattail wand in the air, and then smacked it on the ground as hard as she could. Instantly an explosion of fluff filled the air, swirling with the breeze, which at that moment changed course and delivered the bulk of it directly into Lilijoy¡¯s face. Waving her hands and sputtering, she backed away from the cattail fluff calamity, listening to Anda¡¯s laughter in the background.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, walking over and pulling a white puff from her hair. ¡°You were always comparing yourself to this stuff. Maybe it¡¯s not as harmless as you thought.¡±


    ¡°Ha. Very funny,¡± she replied as she watched the last of the white strands float away on the breeze.


    ***


    The walk to Night¡¯s Safety was even shorter than she remembered. She had realized that her plan to use the midges was once again foiled by the prevailing winds, so they chose to leave them in the craft. They moved slowly, carefully scanning the area as they went. She had a knife, and Anda carried his usual array of firearms.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s where I fell,¡± she said, more to herself than her companion. The Piles were already in sight, a few hundred meters away, and she could just see the stand of trees that marked the inner region of the tribe¡¯s territory. Already, she could almost taste the sour smell of the refuse discharged by the factory-mine and feel the vibrations of its ponderous heaving. The air carried with it a cascading crackle of atomic decay, almost like recordings of the surf from distant oceans.


    Nice place to grow up. Wonder if there are any food pellets lying around? Why would the tribe stay here for so many years?


    As they passed the trees, Lilijoy could see the branches where she and Attaboy had played, see the flat area where Pinton had tortured their half starved bodies with exercises every morning, and finally, she could see it.


    There¡¯s no place like home.


    Night¡¯s Safety.


    Little more than a mound of dirt and rubble with a large rectangular opening. As they approached, Lilijoy could see the remnants of cinder blocks and exposed rebar. What she couldn¡¯t see was Mooster and Grabby, sitting in their chairs on either side of the opening, as they had done virtually every day of her childhood. She suppressed a spike of panic.


    What if they¡¯ve been taken? What would Sinaloa do to them? What if¡­ I never get any answers?


    The last thought made her feel a little selfish.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± she told Anda softly. ¡°There should be people all around.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Nothing to do but go in, I guess.¡± She resisted an urge to take his hand as they walked up to the entrance. The large metal slab that served as a door at night lay propped against the side of the mound. The opening smelled of unwashed bodies, mold, and damp earth. She could see hinges on the side, massive loops deep set in a column of metal. They were broken and twisted, as if some giant had ripped the original door off in a fit of pique.


    How is it that I never saw that before? she wondered. What the hell was this place?


    She ventured a few feet into the darkness, her eyes quickly compensating.


    It looks like home. It also looks like a bomb went off in here. Literally.


    It looked the same as it ever had, but with her new perspective, she could see the broken concrete walls, the filled in crater of a floor. The ceiling had collapsed nearly throughout, leaving only a few areas where Anda could walk without hunching. Here and there, tattered sheets made from loosely bound leaves hung, marking one sleeping nook or another.


    ¡°So, this is where you grew up.¡± Anda¡¯s voice was filled with incredulity and sadness.


    ¡°Yes. This is the first level. It goes on for a bit, then there¡¯s a way down.¡±


    With every step into the empty space, her heart sank.


    They¡¯re gone. All of them are really gone.


    She had no sense of love or profound attachment for her tribe, but with every passing moment she understood more and more that her past had been an anchor, a reliable reference for her sense of who she was and where she came from. To have the people who she had known almost all her life simply vanish¡­


    Don¡¯t fool yourself, she thought. They¡¯re all in a dark cell somewhere, being taken one by one for experiments.


    Still, it was odd that there were no signs of conflict, no bodies, no blood. She would have expected certain members of the tribe to fight to the death.


    Maybe they just finally moved to a nicer place.


    The image of her tribe, dirty and disfigured as they were, sitting on a beach and sipping tropical drinks passed through her mind, and she stifled an entirely inappropriate hitch of a laugh.


    ¡°You okay?¡± asked Anda.


    She waved him off and pressed forward, passing the hole in the floor they used as a toilet if someone absolutely had to go during the night. It had never occurred to her to wonder where it actually went.


    Well, I¡¯m sure as heck not going to find that out today. Or ever. Probably some closed off part of the lower level.


    There were nooks and crannies, some almost tunnels, permeating the first level. Growing up, she hadn¡¯t been able to see in the dark nearly as well as she could now, and it was fascinating to see her old space with so many details. Parts of the fallen walls and ceiling had old, peeling paint, mostly gray, but with the odd line of red or yellow.


    But what she saw as she moved into the final stretch before the floor dropped away into a sloping rubble-strewn path that curved around and under the current floor made her gasp. There, on a piece of intact wall about a foot over her head was a symbol. A logo of a curving ¡®S¡¯ bisected by an angular ¡®T¡¯. The ¡®S¡¯ was the interior of a taijitu and its line was divided between black and white, as if the invisible yin and yang were permeating from either side.


    It was the logo for Tao Systems.


    Her surprise battled with a sense of resigned inevitability.


    Of course. Of course. What else could this place be.


    She pointed it out to Anda.


    ¡°But why would they have a¡­ what, an outpost, a bunker, out in the middle of nowhere?¡± he wondered. ¡°This was in the middle of hundreds of square miles of uninhabited jungle.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure that was the point,¡± she said. ¡°Something went on here, things happened here, that they wanted as far away from civilization as possible. It all led to this.¡± she gestured to the surrounding destruction. ¡°I¡¯m betting that it was a laboratory, or a testing facility.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much to say after that, and they proceeded in silence, weighed down by invisible history.


    Getting to the lower area was a bit of a scramble for Anda, but Lilijoy found that her feet remembered where to go, which blocks moved and which didn¡¯t. The scent of mold and mildew became stronger as they went.


    ¡°This floor floods in the rainy season,¡± Lilijoy explained as she pulled herself under a fallen beam. ¡°It was the closest thing I had to a bath until I went Inside. There¡¯s not much down here, as far as I remember, though the ceiling¡¯s in better shape.¡±


    She came around a final corner and could see the open space of the first room in front of her. She stopped, shocked by the sight before her, before she called back to Anda.


    ¡°Um. I think I know where the tribe went.¡±


    ***


    It took another minute for Anda to join her on the mud floor and take in the sight. The tribe, or the Bros anyway, stood motionless against the one intact wall like mannequins. If it wasn¡¯t for her ability to see body heat, Lilijoy might have assumed they really were statues, or that their dead bodies had been pinned there.


    There was Timout, with his long matted white hair and oddly stunted limbs. Next to him stood her nemesis, Pinton, bald head covered with thick scars.


    Oh god, she thought. How could I have forgotten his ear?


    It wasn¡¯t just the ear, but the entire side of his head that looked like it had been ground off and replaced with a dark mat of scabs. For all of her life, it had simply been how Pinton looked. Next to him was Skymore, and Onlee, and Slepper, and then, there they were. Grabby and Mooster.


    Henry and Gabriella Choi, we meet again for the first time, she thought.


    She felt relief, and she felt disturbed. It was certainly not on the rather long list of possibilities she had prepared herself for. She had anticipated the tribe could be dead, or missing, or acting as if she had never left, but this?


    I wonder where the rest of them are?


    The Bros had always been the core of the tribe, but there were always others as well, more normal in their appearance and behavior. They had always kept their distance from Attaboy and Lilijoy, and not for the first time she wondered if that was because they had been told to do so.


    She walked up to Mooster, looked at his face, seeing past the scars and matted beard to trace the resemblance to the smiling father from Emily¡¯s memories.


    Why the hell did you call yourself Mooster?


    On the long list of mysteries, this probably ranked close to last, but it bothered her nonetheless.


    So what are they doing? Hibernating? Hiding? Both? Should I try to wake them?


    Anda moved up beside her and touched her shoulder. When she craned her head to look up at him, he mouthed, ¡°what now?¡±


    ¡°Got me,¡± she replied in a quiet voice. The atmosphere was creepy, but she refused to act intimidated. ¡°I have no idea what¡¯s going on here.¡±


    She refused to believe they were in any real danger, but it was hard not to imagine the motionless bodies suddenly coming to life and grabbing her. She shivered. Not intimidated, she told herself.


    She came to a decision. ¡°Move back, but not too far. I haven¡¯t come all this way to give up on getting answers now,¡± she said.


    Anda looked at her. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re not planning to do what I think you are.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I grew up with these people.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean the same people who left you to die in the wastes when you¡¯d been mauled by dogs? Those people? Let¡¯s at least try normal ways of waking them before you go using your system.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± she said, raising her voice. ¡°Hey! Hey, Mooster, Grabby. WAKE THE FUCK UP!¡±


    Her voice echoed around the enclosed space and died, leaving behind profound silence. Anda¡¯s eyes were a little wider than usual. She didn¡¯t know if that was because of her volume or her vocabulary. She turned to him.


    ¡°There, you see? Do you want to try shaking them next? I¡¯m telling-¡±


    Anda was gesticulating to something behind her. She turned around.


    Mooster¡¯s eyes were open.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 31: Fissure

    Interlude: Echelon


    Sixty-Seven years ago.


    ¡°Hello, Runk,¡± said Sergei. ¡°How are you today?¡±


    He was proud that he no longer needed prompts from his system to follow the formulas of human interaction. Who would have thought that it was as simple as following a flowchart?


    ¡°Runk sad. Still no rock.¡± said Runk.


    ¡°It is a nice day,¡± said Sergei. He was still not entirely sure when to use contractions, and found it simpler to omit them from his speech, for the time being anyway. ¡°Would you like to go to the field?¡±


    He had made friends with the bees two hundred and thirty-four days ago. Now he liked to spend time sitting in the field and watching them on the flowers. He appreciated their dedication and simplicity. ¡°Find flower, gather pollen, repeat until full,¡± he said to himself.


    Sergei understood singular interests. He had his thing, just as the bees did. Really, he had two, one for Inside and one for Outside. It had been three hundred and twelve days since he first stood at the edge of the field, overwhelmed by his tangled senses. In that time, he had identified and learned the names of ninety seven thousand, two hundred and two distinct objects. Only three hundred and forty proved to be dangerous, and of those, only seventy two had caused him to respawn.


    He had gotten very good at running, and had also learned that pain on the Inside wasn¡¯t real. Once he had discovered that, he was able to stop feeling it, which greatly expanded the range of his explorations.


    Runk always took a long time to think about what he was going to say, something that Sergei appreciated very much. After some time the leafy urusk asked, ¡°Rocks in field?¡±


    Runk does not remember things, Sergei reminded himself. He found that interesting, as he had never forgotten anything. ¡°No,¡± he replied.


    They stayed in comfortable silence for several minutes, standing on the path at the edge of the trees. Sergei was still not entirely sure how to tell when a conversation was over, but he believed that anything over two hundred seconds of time elapsed was a strong positive indicator. At two hundred and one seconds, he turned and walked back to his favorite spot for bee watching.


    After he watched the bees, he made his way into the forest and to the pond that Runk had shown him seventy-four days ago. The first time he had walked into the water, he had learned that cold was a sense quite similar to pain, one he could ignore if he chose. He had also learned that he was positively buoyant when his lungs were filled with air, but negatively buoyant when his lungs contained water.


    Over several weeks, he had improved his understanding of this concept, to the point that he could now maneuver through the water at will. Hanging in the deep, floating and removed from everything bright and sharp had become his new favorite pastime. He only had two frustrations associated with the activity.


    First, all too quickly he would run out of air and find himself dissolved and reformed at the edge of pond, though that was improving. Second were the strange beings that shared the dark waters. Sometimes he could feel himself being touched by them, which wasn¡¯t as bad as when people touched him, though still annoying. But the real problem was that he could not identify them. That was deeply frustrating, and brought back uncomfortable memories of the time before his system, when his environment was mashed together in a terrifying continuum of overlapping senses, before things were discrete.


    Sergei liked it when then things were discrete, when they had identities and categories that he could manipulate. Things without names were an unacceptable presence, in his opinion. He was stewing over this very issue, when a new thought came to him. A brilliant thought.


    I can assign them a temporary name. Like attaching a handle to something I need to carry.


    His mind reeled with the implications. This would change¡­ everything.


    He dove into the clear, cold water and pulled himself down, away from the light. It wasn¡¯t long before he felt the gentle brush of gelatinous flesh against his own.


    Hello, he thought. I label you Uncategorized Dark Water Entity.


    He added the name to his list.


    Ninety seven thousand, two hundred and three.


    <hr>


    Chapter 31: Fissure


    Lilijoy took a step back despite herself. Mooster¡¯s eyes, initially unfocused, shuddered into life and cast downward to where she stood, while his body and face remained motionless. She repressed an intense urge to run, locking her legs and staring back with a defiant expression.


    What am I so afraid of? she wondered. What does my unconscious know that I don¡¯t?


    It probably didn¡¯t help that her infrared vision rendered his eyes as glowing red orbs.


    She forced herself to form words. ¡°Hello, Mooster.¡± She swallowed. ¡°Henry.¡±


    The red eyes swiveled up to take in Anda, then returned to her. Mooster¡¯s lips and jaw moved as if his tongue was exploring the inside of his mouth. His lips parted, and after a few strangled noises from the back of his throat he produced a hoarse whisper.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Lilijoy took another step back, this time from surprise. What do I say to that?


    She had been imagining this conversation for a long time. Imagining what it might be like to speak to Mooster and Grabby, if they would speak at all. She could still remember Grabby¡¯s parting words to her, assuming they weren¡¯t a hallucination. I¡¯m sorry, little one. Previous to that, Grabby¡¯s words had been few rare, and her voice¡­ different. But that last time, her voice had been gentle and high pitched, a woman¡¯s voice.


    A mother¡¯s voice.


    She felt disoriented, almost dizzy with the sensation that she was swimming, floundering in dark waters that she could not understand.


    What is going on here? Why do I feel so¡­ lost?


    Her system was managing waves of complicated emotions, modulating the peaks and valleys, but she still felt overwhelmed. She hadn¡¯t expected this moment would be so powerful, that it would make her feel small and vulnerable, ignorant and helpless.


    Pull it together Lilijoy. You can do this.


    ¡°Why?¡± was all she could make herself say.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault.¡± His eyes closed.


    ¡°What is?¡±


    Is this whole conversation going to go like this? she wondered.


    ¡°Everything. Everything.¡±


    All signs point to yes, she answered herself.


    ¡°Please!¡± she said, surprising herself with the emotion in her voice. ¡°Please, just tell me what is going on. Mooster, Henry, whoever you are, please.¡±


    He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, the first time he had moved anything beyond his eyes and mouth.


    ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She felt her eyes welling up. ¡°Why not? Why...¡± her voice tailed off as she cast about for the words that would unlock him. ¡°...be such a dick?¡±


    Oh yeah. That¡¯s sure to help.


    She refused to over-analyse, or to take minutes to think between her words though. This wasn¡¯t like her conversation with Quimea, this wasn¡¯t a high-stakes game played through conversation. This was something different, primordial and intuitive.


    The corner of his mouth moved. Just a twitch.


    ¡°You really are like her,¡± he whispered. ¡°I will try to explain. A wise man once said, ¡®he who speaks does not understand, he who understands does not speak.¡¯ Knowing this, how could we ever talk about matters of importance without corruption?¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He¡¯s quoting Lao-Tsu at me. Great. Final confirmation that this is Henry, I guess. At least my conversations with Anda have prepared me for this one.


    ¡°That¡¯s a self-negating paradox. If it¡¯s true, then it¡¯s false. It¡¯s just something to hide behind.¡±


    ¡°Some things are worth hiding from.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°So who am I like? Emily?¡±


    He nodded, an odd, jerking movement.


    Guess that¡¯s all I¡¯m getting.


    ¡°Well, not much surprise there, right? Seeing as how I¡¯m supposed to be using her memories and personality or something. That¡¯s why you gave me her system.¡±


    He shook his head a tiny bit again. ¡°I did not give you her old system. That was¡­ unexpected.¡±


    ¡°Well, who did then? Grabby? Or Gabriella or whoever?¡±


    ¡°Gabriella is gone.¡± His voice was hollow, uninflected.


    She pointed to Grabby¡¯s body, standing against the wall next to him. ¡°Then who is that?¡±


    ¡°A shell. Sometimes a puppet.¡±


    She filed that away, refusing to be distracted by the torrent of new questions filling her mind.


    ¡°And those?¡± She gestured to the other Bros.


    ¡°They are broken, possibly beyond repair. Their minds, what is left of them, are elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°But not yours?¡±


    He looked back at her without speaking.


    ¡°Fine. Be that way. Then who gave me Emily¡¯s system?¡±


    ¡°It was in Gabriella¡¯s possession. A memento. Who gave it to you, I could not say.¡±


    Lilijoy pursed her lips in frustration. ¡°And Attaboy?¡±


    ¡°He received Atticus¡¯ legacy.¡±


    Jeesh, it¡¯s like pulling teeth.


    ¡°You gave it to him?¡±


    ¡°Yes. This is not a conversation that was intended. You need to leave. Join Atticus if you must.¡±


    His words were hard, but his face, as far as she could see it underneath years of dirt and beard, looked pained.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡­¡± she started to say.


    The next thing she knew, she and Anda were in the hovercar, gliding across the Amazon waste.


    ***


    Now this is how ground is supposed to be, thought Magpie. Flat, hard and predictable. She still couldn¡¯t shed the feeling that her feet might sink with every step. It was some version of sea legs, she supposed. Squish legs?


    After more than forty hours of ceaseless trudging through the treacherous revealed land, she had finally found a raised patch with some scrubby bushes where she could curl up and sleep for a few hours. Soon after, she had found some salt-tolerant rice fields, and soon after that, an actual road.


    That road had led her steeply upwards to a small agricultural center, one where they grew real, edible plants, and not just raw biomass to be converted into food bars. White banners with a red circle supported by curving rays flapped proudly in the breeze, the flag of the Josho Clan. Magpie wasn¡¯t sure what it was supposed to depict, but it had always looked more like some kind of weird red squid to her.


    The mountain, her destination, loomed in the distance, its entire summit enclosed in a vast dome.


    Maybe that¡¯s what the flag is depicting, she thought. The sun was just showing itself over the top of the dome, refracting through its triangular facets, and with the new light of day she felt more tired than ever. Nonetheless, she continued to put one battered foot in front of the other. Her ankles and calves were gashed and streaked with blood, injuries from any of a thousand times her foot had plunged through brittle coral hidden under the mud. She had long since given up on berating herself, had decided to turn this whole experience into a kind of pilgrimage, perhaps an atonement.


    The cynical part of her, which she had always thought was the majority, though now she was not so sure, scoffed at the idea, but she chose not to listen. Instead she kept moving forward, her mind on her goal. Her stupid, stupid goal.


    There¡¯s the cynical voice again. What else, she asked herself, should I do? I don¡¯t know, maybe go to Manila, set up shop. Build a network, get rich, die young. Not necessarily in that order.


    Raven¡¯s words still haunted her. Loyalty. To have one cause, one person. What would that be like? What would it be like to have a purpose?


    Maybe if I find my own purpose, I won¡¯t go back.


    The thought crossed her mind with some regularity. She could just rejoin the Flock, resume her familiar life of missions and training. Have a place to live, objectives to obtain, rise through the ranks and find out what it was all about. Eventually, she might have her own novices to train and torment.


    I¡¯d be at least as bad as Raven, she realized. I don¡¯t have any patience. On the other hand, I could get transportation to anywhere I needed to be. Clothes too.


    She had brought a small bag that included a change of clothes, clothes that she was wearing now, as the previous outfit had been torn and stained. She had a pair of sandals too, but those she would wait to wear until she had a chance to address the many injuries on her feet. She probably wouldn¡¯t be walking if it weren¡¯t for her system¡¯s pain block. The one thing she wasn¡¯t short on was credits, though even the cheapest med bugs would be beyond her means.


    I need to find a place to stay, and a medic, she thought. I¡¯ve still got a couple days to get to the mountain. Hopefully I can figure out the rest from there.


    The great dome over the summit of Mount Halcon was only a step toward her real goal. In a couple days, Kuraudonain would arrive. All she needed to do was secretly board the true home of the Josho clan and travel in style to her true destination.


    South America.


    ***


    It was Anda who spoke first. ¡°Help me understand what just happened, so I can stop using my system to keep myself from panicking. I remember going into that place you used to live in. Then¡­ nothing. And now we¡¯re here. Nothing in my system logs for¡­ over five hours. Lilijoy, what have we been doing for the last five hours?¡±


    He may have been using his system to remain calm, but his words were rushed and jumbled.


    Lilijoy shook her head slowly, then quickly as if trying to shake herself back to normal. She pulled up her own logs, and verified Anda¡¯s account. Nothing. Absolutely nothing for the past five hours, plus a few minutes. It wasn¡¯t her first experience losing time and control, that had been after Eskallia¡¯s initial ¡®help¡¯, but she certainly understood why Anda¡¯s voice sounded the way it did. She felt surprisingly calm about the whole thing, as if losing five hours of time in the middle of a conversation was an entirely mundane possibility.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re okay. We just got shown the door by the person who built our systems. Do you remember what happened in the lower level?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Anda replied. ¡°Nothing past the first few steps.¡±


    Interesting. He took Anda¡¯s memory back farther than mine. I wonder what the point of that is? It¡¯s not like I can¡¯t just tell him.


    She suspected it was a message. Perhaps she was supposed to keep her conversation with Henry secret? Or maybe he was just showing her the extent of his control.


    This really puts a whole new spin on, well, everything. Not only is Henry Choi living with a group of mindless Tao zombies, but he himself seems to be fine. No, she corrected herself. Not exactly fine, I guess, but broken differently?


    She replayed the conversation in her head, not entirely sure what to feel. It was nice, she decided, very nice to know that not only was she a mystery to herself, but also to Henry Choi. She was ¡®unexpected¡¯.


    It really doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s entirely in control. What was all that about Gabriella being a puppet? If she¡¯s a puppet, then who¡¯s pulling the strings, walking around in her body? Some subset? Is Guardian raising snacks?


    The whole thing with Guardian needing her, or Attaboy, or both didn¡¯t make any sense, and the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. The Archon had downplayed the whole ¡®eating¡¯ angle, and even Rosemallow, when Lilijoy had a chance to pin her down after, had admitted that it might be an exaggeration.


    ¡°What I really know,¡± she had said, ¡°is that the Children of Guardian never come back after the Great Unity. That they are used, and most of us believe, used up, in the process.¡±


    Used up doesn¡¯t sound much better than eaten. And it doesn¡¯t make sense anyway. Why would Guardian use such a convoluted method? Beyond convoluted. Henry Choi is a broken man, plagued by¡­ guilt? If he really thinks that ¡®everything¡¯ is his fault, then what has he been doing this whole time? Trying to create some kind of savior? If that¡¯s his goal, he sure has a weird way of going about it. No, I¡¯m still missing something. Maybe an entire category of somethings.


    She put those thoughts to the side.


    ¡°Anda, what do you make of all this? Are you¡­ are you okay?¡±


    Anda looked down at her from where he sat. ¡°You remember how I said a warrior uses fear the way a bodybuilder uses weights? I feel like my arms gave out and dropped three hundred pounds on my chest. I feel like¡­ an insect crossing the floor of my aunt¡¯s pantry. Auntie really despised bugs.¡± He sat back and crossed his arms. ¡°Other than that, I feel great!¡± He shook his head. ¡°Seriously, Lilijoy, I think it might be time for us to back away slowly. I can fight things I can see, but something just erased five hours of my life. I¡¯m not okay with that.¡±


    Lilijoy took in his words. Why does this bother me so much less? she wondered. For her, it was just another challenge, another obstacle thrown in her way. Is it Stage Two? Or is it because my entire conscious life has been like this?


    Anda¡¯s words impacted her though. If someone like him felt that way, it would be foolish of her to ignore it.


    ¡°I still really need to find Attaboy,¡± she said. ¡°And it¡¯s not like I can just stop being¡­ whatever it is I am. But maybe we should just find a nice place to live for a while on the Outside and recover from all this. I¡¯ve always wanted to see the ocean.¡±


    Anda shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you might be in for a disappointment, if you¡¯re thinking of the views on the internet archive. There aren¡¯t really beaches any more, or rather, the beaches are now miles away from the water. But I don¡¯t disagree. I think both of us need time to integrate everything that has happened. I know that I could really use a couple months to figure out the Tao System. Life doesn¡¯t have to be one emergency after another. It¡¯s okay to slow down.¡±


    Slow down? It¡¯s not like I chose to go fast, Lilijoy thought. There¡¯s always something that-


    <hr>


    Message from Henry Choi


    Hello Lilijoy.


    I planted this message to be delivered once you left the zone of control.


    There is much I cannot say, and much I should not say.


    In this reduced state, I cannot safely evaluate what


    information is dangerous to you, or harmful to the wider world.


    Please forgive my brevity.


    By contacting you, I am further widening the gap within myself


    and acting contrary to my own interests.


    Indeed, the self writing this will cease to exist immediately after I finish.


    I strongly suggest that you do not return to the Amazon testing facility.


    There are dangers there you cannot understand.


    If you wish to understand, travel to New Mexico, to the Tao Systems facility located


    just outside Taos. I do not know what remains there, but it may be helpful.


    I would suggest deleting this message from your memory,


    after converting what you have learned to plausible narrative justifications.


    Be aware that the Sage is watching.


    Goodbye.


    <hr>


    -comes up.


    Crap.

 Book 2.5: Chapter 32: Reunion

    Interlude: Echelon


    Sixty-six years ago:


    Sergei sat down to dinner with his parents. Though the fare was simple and required no preparation, his mother insisted that the family eat together. It seemed arbitrary and unnecessary to Sergei, but he had learned to shape his outer-facing self to accord with the irrational rules and customs of human society.


    As always, his father was exhausted, slumped down in his chair. Sergei could see his hand tremble when he brought the food bar to his mouth. One important rule that Sergei had learned recently was not to ask Father questions before he had completed at least three-quarters of the meal.


    Instead, he told his parents about his day, starting with everything he had learned about Intelligence. Intelligence had been an obsession of his for years now, stemming from an early misunderstanding he had as he navigated the internet archive soon after he received his system. Now, of course, he understood the difference between intelligence as mental capacity and intelligence as information gathering, but at the time, the difference had not been clear. Even now, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure if the difference was a true difference, or just a different side of a two sided object.


    At this point, it didn¡¯t matter how he had started. Intelligence was his thing.


    ¡°Operation Zapata is an example of failed intelligence,¡± he told his parents. ¡°It resulted in the failure of the Bay of Pigs invasion. Inspector General Kirkpatrick determined that...¡±


    He regaled his mother and father with the details for another twenty minutes.


    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful, dear,¡± his mother said. ¡°How was the Inside today? Did you meet anyone new?¡±


    His mother always wanted to know if he had met anyone. Sometimes, Sergei suspected it might be her thing.


    ¡°I went back to the town. It was daytime and there were too many people, so I left,¡± he explained.


    ¡°That¡¯s all right. You remember what I always say?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mother. Baby steps.¡±


    He was once again thankful for his outer-facing self. It bypassed his objection that she did not, in fact, always say ¡®baby steps¡¯, and even provided the context for him to understand the expected response. He had appreciated the importance of small increments for years, but his outward-facing self allowed him to follow the social convention that he should pretend that his mother¡¯s suggestion was currently valuable.


    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand,¡± his father broke in, ¡°is why the boy hasn¡¯t learned anything useful.¡±


    Sergei was used to his father talking as if he wasn¡¯t there.


    His mother tsked. ¡°Now Petro, just look at the difference over the past two years. Seryozha is like a different boy. What more could we have asked for? It¡¯s a miracle if you ask me.¡±


    She gave Sergei a fond look and patted him on the hand. He stopped himself from flinching.


    His father grumbled. ¡°The boy¡¯s seventeen. Now that he can act like a normal person, he needs to start pulling his weight. I don¡¯t know much about this Inside thing, but Jensen¡¯s boy is pulling in almost a credit a week. If he keeps that up, he might pay the damn thing off ahead of schedule.¡±


    This had become a familiar refrain for the past few months. Sergei couldn¡¯t understand why his father expressed the same basic thought so often. He thought there might be something wrong with the man.


    Soon, dinner was complete and Sergei returned to his cot and logged Inside. There was Runk, waiting for him as if he had never left.


    ¡°Hello, Runk. Can you show me where you found the other rocks?¡± said Sergei.


    <hr>


    Chapter 32: Reunion


    The Sage is watching. Great. I¡¯m going to assume he¡¯s not talking about the plant. Although why not? I bet there used to be lots of sage near Taos. Except that was sagebrush, which is completely different. And I bet Taos is under several hundred feet of ice. So thanks for the hot tip, Henry.


    Lilijoy realized her mind was babbling.


    Okay. Pull it together. Henry Choi isn¡¯t just broken, he¡¯s in pieces, pieces that aren¡¯t in agreement. One of those pieces gave me that message, and then deleted itself so the others wouldn¡¯t know.


    This much seem evident. Her own experiences during her brain meltdown seemed to confirm that it was possible. If her brain had been damaged more extensively, her Stage Two thoughts wouldn¡¯t have had any anchor. Even when she was Dark and Light Lilijoys, she could feel the two narratives drifting apart. Henry Choi¡¯s system must have been much more developed, more advanced, so she could only imagine what kind of divergence would occur.


    And now I know I grew up in a Tao Systems testing facility. Something cataclysmic happened there, something that nearly killed everyone, probably did kill some. Something that caused the whole area to be irradiated, that caused an explosion within the facility itself. Henry blames himself for it, that seems clear enough. Or at least the part I talked to. I don¡¯t even know if that¡¯s the same part that gave me the message. How many pieces of Henry Choi are there?


    She knew it would take her some time to process everything she had learned, but the feeling of getting closer to the answers was satisfying. The only problem was his advice at the end of the message. If she understood it correctly, he wanted her to erase her memory but keep the results. It reminded her a bit of Marcus¡¯ technique for processing someone else¡¯s Rules.


    So I would need to give myself a plausible reason to travel to glacial New Mexico, and then delete the actual reason. If I want to know that Henry Choi is split, and the parts don¡¯t agree, then I need to find some other reason I could have come to that conclusion, create some other reasoning that would allow me to discover the information. Or I can ignore his suggestion.


    Ignoring Henry¡¯s suggestion to erase her memories seemed awfully attractive. She had a hard time imagining what the consequences could be for her if she didn¡¯t. There was one last thing mentioned in the message that was bothering her. Zone of control. What did that mean? Just what exactly was being controlled?


    She thought about what she had already been able to do with her chain of midges, then extrapolated that to independent Tao System nanobots, spread across a large area. If she was going to remain in a single place for a long time, she wouldn¡¯t want them flying or floating around; wind and rain would be too disruptive. But there were plenty of places where Tao system units could shelter, protected from the elements, surrounded by tissues that produced energy directly from the sun.


    They¡¯re in the plants. I bet the trees I climbed, and the grasses I wove, and the cattails I ate were full of them. Or I¡¯m just being paranoid. But if that¡¯s the case, why hide in the lower level? If the entire area is permeated with the Tao System, they could commandeer anyone who came close. Sinaloa would never have been a danger to them.


    Part of her was tempted to turn around, just to verify or disprove her theory. The rest of her thought about her conversation with Anda, the conversation she was still having, she realized.


    Now where were we? Right, slowing down.


    ¡°I think slowing down sounds fantastic,¡± she replied. ¡°Any ideas where we should go to do it?¡±


    ¡°I know just the place,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s time I introduced you to my friends in the Tesla Clan.¡±


    ***


    What Anda didn¡¯t mention was that the trip would take four days. And include a stop in New Manaus. Lilijoy was beginning to feel like that might be an obligatory stop for every journey she would ever take.


    This time, she simply stayed in the hovercar while Anda procured supplies, feeling like she had enough to handle without any more encounters with Antimony. Plus, it was just about time for her to rejoin the Inside anyway. She had become quite proficient at dividing herself between the two worlds, so she didn¡¯t feel vulnerable at all sending most of her awareness Inside, though she did arrange a small patrol of midges around the hovercar while its fuel cells were recharging.


    Soon, she rejoined her friends on the last couple hours of their journey home. Her Inside body had been dutifully marching behind Jessila and Skria when she left, and not much had changed.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Hey guys! How¡¯s the trip been?¡± she asked.


    Skria made a little noise and jumped off of Jessila¡¯s shoulder, then circled around to land next to Lilijoy.


    ¡°You surprised me!¡± she said. ¡°It has been so very, very boring. Walking and walking.¡±


    Lilijoy gave her a sideways glance. ¡°You¡¯ve been walking?¡±


    Skria waved her hand. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who was walking, just that there was far too much of it.¡±


    Jessila grunted.


    Skria leaned over to Lilijoy and whispered. ¡°Jessila has even stopped talking. She said it was just encouraging me to talk more. Can you believe it?¡±


    Lilijoy made a noncommittal noise. ¡°At least we¡¯re almost there. Why don¡¯t we think of a fun way to pass the time?¡±


    Skria looked at Jessila¡¯s back. ¡°See!¡± she yelled to her. ¡°Other people like fun!¡±


    Jessila grunted. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if she should be concerned for the big girl or not.


    ¡°I know!¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Use your air magic to lift me up. Then I can practice gliding.¡±


    Skria gave her a skeptical look.


    ¡°Hey, I survived being thrown off the Greatwood. Don¡¯t tell me your magic isn¡¯t strong enough," Lilijoy protested.


    ¡°My wind spell isn¡¯t the issue. You just don¡¯t look like you would glide very far.¡± said Skria. ¡°You never did explain how you managed to survive that fall.¡±


    Lilijoy put on her best innocent expression, a bit sad she was keeping Nandi¡¯s boon a secret for now. ¡°Just lucky I guess. Rosemallow¡¯s Gravity Grenade didn¡¯t hurt either.¡±


    Soon Lilijoy was being held aloft on a column of air. She was pretty sure that her Gliding skill wasn¡¯t doing much, but it was still a fun way to pass the time. After Skria got a little low on mana, they both practiced their Acrobatics, tumbling and leaping all around a disgruntled Jess. Lilijoy had raised her Power stat up to an eighteen and her Acrobatics magi skill up to Enhanced since the last time she had been able to leap and tumble, and she was amazed by just how much higher she could jump. Soon she was doing quadruple flips and somersaults with ease. When she added her Flash into the mix it was almost silly how high she could soar.


    ¡°How do you use your Flash at the same time as Acrobatics?¡± Skria inquired, when they had both had enough. ¡°There¡¯s no way you were moving so fast without Flash, but I always have to drop one or the other.¡±


    The discussion about mana types, and how to keep them separate, occupied the rest of the trip. Soon the sun began to set on the perpetual day of the instanced travel, preparing them for an evening arrival. The land around them gradually began to resemble the terrain around the academy, and though there was never a distinct point when they knew the instanced travel was complete, the sight of the Academy building against the night sky let them know that their journey had reached an end.


    ***


    I¡¯m back. Yay? Lilijoy searched her feelings for a moment before deciding. Yay.


    There was something about returning, she decided, that made you wonder if you ever left at all. When she had walked through the door of Night¡¯s Safety she had been preoccupied by the missing tribe, but walking through the front door of the Academy brought some of the other feelings she had experienced at the time to mind. Emotions she had no name for.


    What¡¯s the word for the feeling you get when you come home and feel like an earlier version of yourself? Or maybe I just miss the innocence of that self? Bits of nostalgia crossed with mono-no aware. Whatever it is, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s an Insider who¡¯s obsessed with it.


    Her reverie was broken by a most unwelcome source.


    ¡°Well honey! It¡¯s just so great to see you back! I just love the way you¡¯ve done your hair.¡±


    Antimony. And my hair is the exact same as it was last time you saw me Inside.


    Blond and shiny as always, Antimony was clearly toning down her accent, but not her personality. The irony of staying out of New Manaus to avoid this exact encounter was not lost on Lilijoy.


    ¡°I was just thinking about you and our little chat,¡± Antimony continued. ¡°I hope you¡¯ve been thinking about it too.¡± She lowered her voice, ¡°This past week has been positively unbearable. Those boys! I only gained one level and I respawned twice. Twice! I sure hope you can help a girl out.¡±


    Suddenly, all of Lilijoy¡¯s problems, with Antimony anyway, were solved.


    I don¡¯t need to solve every problem, she realized. Sometimes, I can just outgrow them.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Antimony,¡± she said, keeping her voice as sweet as possible. ¡°But I seem to have leveled out of your cohort. I¡¯m afraid it just can¡¯t work out.¡±


    She displayed her level sixteen status to the girl, enjoying the way her eyes widened. Antimony made a few stuttering sounds while Lilijoy moved past her.


    Should I feel bad that that was satisfying? she asked herself. Another thought occurred to her. I hope I can still group with Skria and Jess.


    She had decided to stay at the Academy for at least another term or two. She still had plenty to learn about arrays, and crafting, and hopefully magic. If she could get a source from her Trial world.


    With another few steps she entered the small stone chamber with a huge wooden desk. Mumo sat behind the desk, looking bored to death as always, braiding his hairless tails in the air behind him while shuffling something around on the desk top.


    There was always something about Mumo¡¯s morose attitude that made Lilijoy overcompensate.


    ¡°Hello, Mumo!¡± she chirped. ¡°I met a friend of yours.¡±


    He looked down at her with a blank expression. ¡°How nice for you.¡±


    Lilijoy was used to Mumo¡¯s facade by now, and plowed ahead. ¡°Or I think she¡¯s a friend. Maybe an admirer? Her name was Nyk-¡±


    ¡°Wait just a second,¡± Mumo interrupted. ¡°What is it with you new students knowing Nykka? You¡¯re the second one this week.¡±


    Lilijoy got excited. ¡°That¡¯s why I came here right away! I need to find that other student, but I don¡¯t know his Inside name.¡±


    Mumo studied the claws on his left hand. ¡°Typical. It¡¯s all about what you want.¡±


    I knew I should have stopped by the pond to get a fish! Who thought it would be a good idea to give Mumo the receptionist job? Lilijoy wondered.


    She knew better than to say as much out loud. She would have chocked it up as more evidence that the true goal of the Academy was to create as much emotional drama as possible, but her internet memory told her that working as a receptionist was some kind of strange attractor inevitably pulling in all the apathy across a region proportional to the time they had been employed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Mumo,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted to talk about Nykka, then find out how you¡¯ve been, but when you mentioned the other student I got excited.¡±


    Mumo waved her off. ¡°Nah. You¡¯re one of the good ones. I shouldn¡¯t give you a hard time. It¡¯s just a habit I suppose. The student you are looking for goes by the name Finch. Don¡¯t ask me where he is though. Even if I knew, I couldn¡¯t tell you.¡±


    Finch. That¡¯s probably not a good sign. I hope there¡¯s some Attaboy left.


    It struck her that the alternative explanation for his name, besides naming himself after the fictional attorney Atticus Finch, was that he had somehow become enmeshed with Magpie¡¯s group. They seemed to like naming themselves after birds.


    Or it could be both. Why not?


    Now that she was so close to reuniting, she couldn¡¯t stop a sense of rising dread. It was what Mooster had said to her just before she and Anda were ejected.


    Join Atticus if you must.


    She had passed it off as Mooster referring to Attaboy. Truth be told, she had been reluctant to consider it closely. Now that she was, possibly, minutes away from seeing Attaboy, the words kept surfacing in her thoughts. Join Atticus.


    Join him in what? What does Mooster know?


    She had been in the habit of thinking of Mooster as one of the Tao zombies, another unwitting participant in the schemes of whoever was behind¡­ everything. Now she understood that he was something more, possibly much more.


    Who is the Sage?


    She thought she might know.


    Mumo interrupted her train of thought. ¡°While I can¡¯t tell you Finch¡¯s location, I have summoned him to this room. I would like to remind you that I am particularly fond of fish.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Lilijoy squeezed out, around her growing anxiety. Her system was keeping her body in check, but also allowing her thoughts to spin faster than ever. It was an uncomfortably detached feeling, but she was reluctant to override her emotions with something more pleasant. It seemed to her that controlling her emotions was a tool best saved for situations where her survival was in doubt. To distract herself, she focused inward, following her emotions as they fell into her soul vortex.


    I wish this could be joyful anticipation.


    She watched her emotions rise and fall for a long time.


    ***


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    Lilijoy looked up. Standing at the room¡¯s entrance was a young man.


    That¡¯s not Attaboy, she thought. He¡¯s too tall. His voice is too low.


    She looked again, and his eyes found her, and she knew.


    ¡°Attaboy?¡±


    He rushed across the room and stooped to hold her.


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you,¡± was all he said.


    ¡°You got tall,¡± she replied, fighting back tears.


    ¡°Only compared to you.¡±


    She squeezed him in protest.


    ¡°Oof! I may be taller, but you got strong! Pinton would be so happy.¡±


    She released him to look up at his face. He looked different. Still Attaboy, but something else as well. Atticus. He looks like Atticus.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s you. You and...¡±


    ¡°Ahem!¡± Mumo cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯m sure this is all very necessary, but perhaps you could go elsewhere for your tearful reunion?¡±


    They left Mumo¡¯s room and walked with no goal in particular, other than avoiding anyone else.


    ¡°I thought you were dead,¡± she said.


    ¡°I was,¡± he replied.


    There wasn¡¯t much to say to that.


    She took his hand and they walked. Together. At last.


    <hr>


    Epilogue: The Sage


    The Sage looked over the wind-lashed hills far below, staff across his lap. He cast his mind down the cliffs of ice and rock, past the talus slopes, through the gnarled first trees into the valley where his charges roamed.


    Or were they his wardens?


    The distinction was unimportant.


    For now.


    He pulled his inner gaze back. All was as it should be.


    Wait.


    Something has changed, he thought.


    Is it her again? Maybe this time she will answer my questions.


    His mind contracted as several contingent programs activated, programs he now remembered creating for these occasions. It was not a pleasant process, but what he needed to do next would be less pleasant still. An area of his mind had been opened, a dark antithesis of everything he desired.


    He cast his inner gaze upon the abyss of suffering, heard the screams of the damned rise up, cries of utter despair, all sharing one voice.


    His voice.


    Must I? he asked. It hurts.


    He watched the thought rise. When it did not fall, he knew he must face his inner demons. Only they could be responsible for the disturbance he sensed in the material world. He must face the fundamental truth of his existence. When he was done, he would purge the unwanted memories, and a new voice would join the choir of the damned.


    He began the ritual, the words that would cast him back down, into the pain of his past life.


    ¡°My name is Henry Choi. One hundred and fifty three years ago I killed my wife and son with my own foolishness. I killed and maimed my brothers with my own carelessness. I destroyed the world with my own arrogance.¡±


    He watched the words hang in the air, watched them rise.


    When they fell, he fell with them.


    End, Book 2

 Book 3: Chapter 1: Postshadowing

    Prelude:


    In her home under a mile of ice, an old woman listened to a report from an old¡­ companion. The word minion had come to mind initially, but she didn¡¯t really like the way that felt, like she was some kind of arch-villain, manipulating the fate of the world from her volcano lair.


    For one, I¡¯m about as far from any active volcanoes as someone could possibly be, she noted.


    As was typical of her long-time associate, there was no visual component to the report, and the voice was genderless and uninflected. It was not a scintillating listening experience, but the content more than made up for it.


    So, little Lilijoy and Attaboy are reunited. How sweet. I love it when the universe delivers on the long odds. Even if it probably is just Guardian maximizing narrative interest.


    It was a consequence of living in a simulation, when so little was known about the repository that housed it. One had to constantly wonder exactly why the simulation existed in the first place, or whether it had a purpose at all. She knew that Guardian pursued multiple strategies to maximize simulation self-preservation, and among those was maintaining a certain level of entertainment.


    Just in case someone was watching.


    Of course, Guardian characterized it in terms of entropic balance, and Guardian''s accumulation of meaning broadly overlaid the issue. She was sure that she could refine her understanding, if she cared to spend a few hundred years of subjective time investigating the subject, but she trusted Guardian enough to leave the subject in its capable hands.


    That¡¯s what machines were for, after all. She had her own, more personal goals, and several thousand subjective years of life had taught her to focus on the smaller things, at least if she wished to remain human. Since Guardian was, more or less, never human in the first place, it didn¡¯t have that concern.


    You did good, Mom. Too bad things worked out the way they did, she thought. Your creation still lives on, carrying a little bit of you with it.


    She sighed and paused the recording when she realized she hadn¡¯t listened to a word of it for the last minute. Gone were the days when she would have simply absorbed it, understanding and processing its contents in a fraction of a second. These days she preferred a more sedate pace, where the flow of her existence was in harmony with her origins. Though in the face of another hour of Shadow¡¯s monotone, even that resolution wavered.


    The report can wait, she decided. I can feel my flowers calling me.


    She walked down a long corridor, the airlock doors opening and closing as she passed, to emerge in a vast enclosed space. A warm breeze caressed her face as she entered, and she quickly removed her shoes so that she could feel the lush earth between her toes. As always, the years dropped away, subjective centuries of struggle and sorrow absorbed by the verdant life around her.


    Walking to a colorful bank of tall, waving blooms, Emily Choi began to tend to her Lilies.


    <hr>


    Chapter 1: Postshadowing


    A towering cliff loomed over the dark, windswept waters of the Atlantic Ocean. North and south, it swept into infinity, a dark dripping monolithic mass of encrusted protrusions and hanging fronds, a bastion to mark the edge of a continent, now laid bare to the light.


    Atop a pillar of revealed stone stood a small girl, her hair, what there was of it, fluttering in the stiff coastal wind. Hundreds of meters below, waves crashed against the rock, beginning the process that would humble the mighty sea wall over thousands of years, but for now, the geology was young. In a blink of an eye, the receding waters had unveiled the naked break of a virgin coast, and the maps and territory no longer coincided.


    L¡¯appel du vid, the call of the void, thought Lilijoy. That urge to jump from a high place, just¡­ because. What is it called when an entire species feels that?


    She took a deep breath, inhaling the unfamiliar scents from the wind. At least I¡¯ve seen the ocean now.


    She had not expected it to be so powerful, but the raw scope of the changes to the earth could not be escaped in such a place. To get to the continent¡¯s new edge, she had piloted the hovercar for nearly one hundred miles under a dull brown sky. The new lands behind her were a dark rippled clay, punctuated by shallow salt lakes, where no new life had begun. On her way, she had seen a few other craft, scavengers, searching for the treasures claimed by the sea, but no other signs of movement, no animals, no birds. There was nothing for them here.


    Humanity did this, she thought as she pivoted to take in the view on all sides. But what would it feel like to know that I was personally responsible? Everything, he said. Everything.


    In the days since her encounter with Henry Choi, she had wondered which was more responsible for his broken state, the events that had damaged his body and brain, or the responsibility he felt for all that had happened since. She wondered if she would ever know exactly what had transpired at the Amazon testing facility she called Night¡¯s Safety.


    Over the past couple days, she had learned many things, information that had reshaped her early understanding of the Tao System and its origins. Attaboy had memories that extended well past the vague awareness of a thirteen year-old Emily Choi, both in time and detail. Lilijoy was still reeling from their most recent conversation, unmoored by new context for so many of her old mysteries, and utterly overwhelmed by histories she thought forever lost.


    Global Unification Authority.


    Now she had a context for what Gabrielle Choi had been doing during the time of Emily¡¯s memories. She even knew where she had been doing it.


    Alcantara Launch Center near S?o Lu¨ªs.


    The very city she and Anda had arrived in the day before. She knew it could not be a coincidence, and she remembered Henry¡¯s advice, that she wipe her memories of a Tao Systems facility near Taos, New Mexico, and substitute a different, plausible justification for traveling to the location. Something like that had to have occurred to her and Anda. It made her feel uneasy about what else might have happened in those missing hours, though she was intrigued by the concept.


    Oh the pranks I could play on my future self! If I knew when my birthday was, I could even throw a surprise party for myself. Then she considered the implications of even having such a thought and shuddered. On the other hand, let¡¯s just agree to never, ever do this for any reason, okay, me?


    She dragged her thoughts back to the next stop on her travels for the day, Emily¡¯s home. She had no idea what she might find, or if such a structure still existed. Attaboy had been able to give her a street address, but she couldn¡¯t be sure there would still be a street. She wasn¡¯t expecting much, but she had to see it for herself, wanted to know that the memories she had experienced were real. As much as she could know anything was real.


    Like talking with Attaboy.


    It was still surreal to her that such a thing was possible. As far as she could tell, he was still himself, in all the ways that mattered. There were times when his voice changed, and he sounded older, or when he used words or said things in ways that could never have come from her Attaboy, and she suspected that he was deliberately downplaying the differences for her benefit. But then, so was she. Neither of them were what they had been, but that was life. People changed, and they stayed the same, all at once. That both of them felt more comfortable pretending to be who they were growing up only meant that they both still cared, and she could only hope, believe that it was that caring that mattered at least as much as small details like identity itself.


    His appearance was still a bit shocking though. More than anything, that clued her into the real changes going on inside his mind, that he was more comfortable in a bigger body, that his physical self image was not the gnome-like child of her memories, but a full sized, normally proportioned human. On the Inside, he could manifest his true self over time. It had only been a week since he finished his Trial, but already his Inside body was almost five feet tall, and his face resembled her memories of Atticus.


    So it¡¯s complicated, she thought. What else is new? Attaboy said he was almost four and a half feet on the Outside, and that his voice had gotten lower too. This is just like extreme puberty. Except he¡¯s gotten the advantage of remembering what it was like once already.


    That was pretty much Attaboy¡¯s take on the whole thing. He believed that he was a reincarnation of Atticus, and that his memories returned to him after his second death. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t entirely sure how he reconciled this with his system, but it seemed to her that he didn¡¯t consider it an either/or type proposition.


    A strong gust made her take a step back on her high perch. There was a line of dark clouds on the horizon, heralding one of the rainless thunder storms that arrived almost daily this time of year. With a thought, she summoned the hovercar and jumped into it as soon as it arrived. She had no desire to be carried off by the wind.


    ***


    The arrival of Kuraudonain was a momentous occasion for the inhabitants of the Josho clan¡¯s stronghold on Mount Halcon. Magpie had only seen it from a distance, several years ago, from her home on the repurposed drilling platform. The night was vivid in her memory, and with time she had come to doubt the accuracy of her memories, thinking that time had caused her to exaggerate the size and majesty of the spherical sky-city, a glowing orb the size of the sun from her perspective, but drifting silently across the backdrop of dark, curled clouds. At the time, she had imagined it must be what the moon had looked like in the days before the sky had thickened.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Cloud Nine. That was the literal translation. When she had seen it that night, she had learned everything she could about the impossible, enchanted city. How it had come to be in the modern world, she had not the faintest clue, but the basics of its design went back to the old times, the twentieth century. She couldn¡¯t remember much more than triangles were involved, that somehow the structure was so large that its density became comparable to air.


    That night, she had promised herself that someday, somehow, she would visit the floating city in the sky and float above the clouds, escaping her duties and burdens.


    It hadn¡¯t been difficult for Magpie to enter Mount Halcon. Though access was restricted to the Josho clan and its affiliates, her system was particularly good at spoofing credentials, and with the appropriate authorization no one looked at her twice. She had a feeling that entry to Kuraudonain would not be nearly so simple, but she wasn¡¯t worried either. What was all her training good for if not something like this? Her Japanese was only so-so, even aided by her system, but she wasn¡¯t going to pretend to be a clan member, so she thought she could get by.


    Evidently, the sky-city was running several days late. This was nothing unusual, as it relied on prevailing winds for a great deal of its propulsion, its vast surface area capturing their steady energy. In the meantime, life went on as usual at Mount Halcon, and Magpie was grateful to have more time for her battered feet to recover. She kept herself busy, learning about the resupply process and attempting to gauge her best bet for gaining access.


    She was drinking tea at an outdoor cafe when she heard the pealing bells heralding its arrival, and it wasn¡¯t long after that that the sky began to fill. The shadow fell across her first, and then the leading edge of the mile-diameter sphere appeared through the transparent panels of the dome she was in. On and on it came, casting an eclipse upon the mountain. Torches were lit up and down the street in honor of the arrival, a custom that Magpie couldn¡¯t quite wrap her head around; why revert to the most primitive source of light in the face of the most advanced human achievement?


    Still, she had to admit that the way the flickering flames pushed back the artificial night felt right, and spoke to the deep part of her that was awed and even a little cowed by the sheer scope of the object floating overhead.


    I wonder how they make it stop?


    She didn¡¯t know, and she relegated the question to the long list of imponderables she had set aside over her existence. What was more important was that she move quickly. Already porters were bustling to the loading spires, their backs laden with supplies. The heavy crates of feedstock and raw materials were loaded by towering cranes, but there were always personal deliveries and supplies more easily delivered by hand. Wagons containing fresh produce filled the streets in a long line, awaiting an exodus of stewards and servants tasked with obtaining only the best for their wealthy patrons. Kuraudonain only made port a few times each year, so much business would be transacted over the next several days.


    What would it be like to live in such a way? she wondered. Always floating between the same places, year after year.


    Not that different, she decided, than any life. She took one last sip from her tea and got to her feet. The next few days would be challenging, and already she felt her senses wakening and her body responding. This was what she lived for, this challenge that was true living, relying only on her training and her wits.


    She saw a porter stumble past struggling with a load too great for his diminutive frame. There.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to see it up close,¡± she said moving onto the street and alongside the boy, who was only a bit older than her. ¡°Let me help.¡±


    ***


    If she squinted, she could almost see where the lilies had grown. All that remained of the dome was a fence like a ring, the skeleton of the lowest few feet, tension rods still anchored here and there, but no panes between them. The house was nothing but a foundation of molded cement. Lilijoy felt a sense of awe despite the decrepitude of the Choi residence.


    There. That was where she, or rather Emily, lay on the grass in that first dream-like memory. And over there was where a screen door had once swung. Her feet took her through the memories, entering the house while stepping over broken blocks, tracing the edges of the kitchen where she had first seen Atticus on the crumbled ground.


    And there. That was where Gabriella¡¯s office had been, off the main living space. Much of it must have happened there.


    Technically, it happened in some virtual space, she thought. Why it had been Gabriella, and who else was involved, Lilijoy did not know. Were there governments backing her? Other corporations? That information was still lost to time. But what she did know was enough.


    G.U.A. Global Unification Authority.


    A project to rescue a war-torn planet. A desperate bid to reunify humanity and stop the madness. It was its own kind of madness, of course, but Lilijoy could imagine the desperation that drove it, drove Gabriella, the desire to see a future for her children. All that was needed was the computer virus to end all computer viruses, the AI to end all AIs, to achieve a global computer network unified under one authority. All the controls for advanced weapons of war, for research, for communication, controlled by one thing. GUArdian.


    I wonder what Henry thought of it? Was there some disagreement, some conflict that led to everything else? Guardian rose in the year 2080. When was the testing facility destroyed?


    According to Attaboy, the conversation that Lilijoy remembered in the kitchen that night had taken place in 2074. He was pretty sure that Gabriella had been working on Guardian by that time, though he wasn¡¯t privy to much as an eighteen year-old. Over the next two years Atticus had mostly worked with his father, testing and learning about the strange new world of the true cognitive enhancement enabled by the Tao System, a quantum leap beyond all the other systems in use at the time. Or so they had assumed, anyway.


    He did know that Henry and Gabriella continued to work together during that time as well, and didn¡¯t remember any particular fighting or conflicts beyond the norm for his parents. His memories cut off around the end of 2076, and were, in Lilijoy¡¯s opinion, suspiciously foggy on certain topics. She assumed that the system, the legacy bequeathed to Attaboy had been specifically tailored at some point, edited to remove the most sensitive or dangerous information. That didn¡¯t bother her at this point, since she had already learned more about her system from him than she had ever hoped possible.


    For one, and this came as no particular surprise, her system was sadly out of date compared to Attaboy¡¯s. His had medical abilities from the start, something she had, somewhat clumsily it now appeared, added on her own. It made his treatment at the hands of Mooster and ¡®Gabriella¡¯ a bit more humane, as the damage to his lungs and other organs would have been repaired as his system grew. That still didn¡¯t account for why he had been abandoned, exiled at the edge of the tribe¡¯s territory, but it did mean that he had been expected to survive all along.


    She still couldn¡¯t understand why she had been treated the same way, and for the time being she had decided to regard her treatment as some kind of echo of Attaboy¡¯s, her injuries from the dog some kind of stimulus that produced a similar response.


    That wasn¡¯t the most interesting thing she had learned on the subject though. ¡®Gabriella¡¯ had actually talked to Attaboy. He had relayed her speech to him verbatim.


    Don¡¯t be scared little one, you will be reborn, and everything will change. You have died before, so don¡¯t worry. There is nothing for you here anymore. Someday you will understand, and when the time comes, you might return. But that will be many years from now. Now you have a very important job, which we call a quest. Your quest is to follow the star you will see in your eye. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll understand soon enough. Along the way, you must be very careful and avoid people as much as possible. You will learn, and grow, and when you finally arrive, you will understand what you need to do.


    Boy, thought Lilijoy at the time Attaboy relayed those words, all she said to me is ¡®Sorry, little one¡¯. I got gypped.


    The ¡®little one,¡¯ part rang true though, which led Lilijoy to believe that it was probably the same person pulling the strings. That Attaboy had been told to avoid people and proceeded to do exactly the opposite rang true as well. And now she had a better idea of what ¡®join Atticus¡¯ had meant in Henry¡¯s note to her. His ¡®star¡¯ was a simple compass overlay, always pointing to his goal. Lilijoy had asked him to create a similar overlay for Taos, New Mexico, and the stars aligned perfectly.


    What are we meant to find there? And Tao Systems in Taos? Really? Maybe it was originally Taos Systems and they just lost the ¡®S¡¯. Or more likely, Henry just couldn¡¯t help himself.


    Dread and curiosity warred within her, but she knew that the answers, if they came at all, were a long way off. Before anything, Attaboy needed to complete his escape from Sinaloa territory. Just about the last thing Lilijoy wanted to do was make her way back across the continent, well over two thousand miles this time, but it was going to be necessary. The trip even went through New Manaus again.


    Sorry Anda, she thought. So much for slowing down.


    She knew he would insist on coming with her, even though they had just arrived. He was spending the day catching up with his friends from the Tesla Clan, which, from her brief acquaintance, might just qualify for the strangest clan yet. She had met the small group yesterday, four people dressed like they had just popped out of the twenty-first century. They were the first people she had met who didn¡¯t seem to take the whole ¡®clan¡¯ thing seriously. One of them had even used air quotes when talking about it.


    Anda had warned her that they would be a little different. Tesla clan had taken the name of a famous company, who had in turn taken the name of a famous inventor, and while they did not claim a direct association with the corporate dynasty of cars, space vehicles and neural interfaces, no one who knew anything about the subject doubted that that was exactly what they were. It was this company that employed a young Gabriella Choi, then Gabriella Wilson, that used her breakthroughs to create the first self-assembling sensory replacement neural interfaces.


    They were the pioneers, and with the rise of Guardian, there was no other population with a greater density of individuals equipped with systems. While most clans had a handful of ¡®originals¡¯ who had lived from before the tribulation, Tesla had thousands. Despite this, they kept to themselves, never seeking power over the other clans, and participating in the Corp as minimally as they could. As far as Lilijoy could tell, Tesla clan was a sleeping dragon that nobody dared to wake, and its members knew it.


    Anda had regaled her with rumors of secret Tesla bases under the ocean, secret Tesla bases under the ice caps, even secret bases on the moon. From those conversations, it was clear that everyone thought that Tesla had secrets, but no one could agree on what they might be. Evidently, Anda¡¯s friends weren¡¯t telling.


    I bet I have them beat in the secrets department, she thought. Honestly, the whole topic just made her tired. She had no more mental or emotional space for mysterious groups acting mysteriously. She still didn¡¯t have a good handle on Renaissance; if Tesla left her alone, she would happily reserve her bandwidth for Anda''s secrective organization.


    The storm she had seen coming over the Atlantic was just reaching her current location, swirling dust and debris across the remnants of the Choi¡¯s property. The hardened grasses buzzed, a low brassy sound that would rise with the winds. She took a last look at the historic site, the birthplace of Guardian, where the world for better or worse had been irrevocably changed.


    Why send me here? What possible impact can I have when everything that mattered happened a century and a half ago?


    She didn¡¯t know the answer to that, and it bothered her. Perhaps it was a coincidence after all, her presence in S?o Lu¨ªs, or perhaps she was looking in the wrong place. She shivered, suddenly haunted by the desolation of her memory. There was one other place to go, the reason for Gabriella¡¯s residence in this part of the world. Only twenty miles or so north was the Alcantara Launch Center, the Brazilian space port. Guardian¡¯s components must have launched from there.


    Tomorrow, she told herself. The storm is almost here.

 Book 3: Chapter 2: Preassembly

    Lilijoy was alarmed to hear that the Dean of her new cohort was a medusa. Before the expedition to Averdale, the plan had been for her to level into the third cohort, that for roughly levels ten to fourteen, so she had spent a few minutes of precious time learning about its Dean, one Silades Fasnew, a possumkin legendary for his coarse language and irreverent attitude. She had been rather looking forward to that assembly.


    Well, I guess Skria and Jessila will let me know what I missed, she thought. It was night on the Outside and the winds were raging, so she had decided to come and see what the second cohort was all about.


    Now, she was seated at the top of the bleachers of the second to largest outdoor arena, the same where she had watched Attaboy compete in the fifth cohort tournament just two days previous. It was a cool day, and low slung clouds crept across the sky, outpaced by lower white wisps of vapor swept by the breeze.


    She thought back to the tournament. Perhaps compete wasn¡¯t the best word to describe what Attaboy was able to do to his unfortunate opponents.


    Crush? Humiliate?


    How Attaboy had managed to come out of his Trial with such a low level was still a bit of a mystery to Lilijoy, particularly once she saw him fight. He was reluctant to tell her about his Trial experience, from which Lilijoy concluded it was embarrassing, or possibly contained secrets of the sort with which she was all too familiar. Watching him fight, she could see that his stats and fighting skills were quite high, even if his level, a paltry six, was low. Her working theory was that Atticus¡¯ memories had somehow skewed the results, reducing his experience gain even as it advantaged him in other ways.


    Whatever the explanation, the others in the fifth cohort were no match. Very few of them had a source they could use, and it was only in the final round, where Attaboy¡¯s opponent was some kind of vegetatious swamp creature, that he met an opponent he couldn¡¯t dispatch with just a few moves.


    It had been Lilijoy¡¯s first tournament viewing experience, and it brought with it more than a few mixed feelings. Tournaments had seemed to her somehow¡­ childish, she guessed. Or at least a waste of time, a diversion from more important priorities. She hadn¡¯t expected it to be so exciting to watch, or so entertaining, and to her surprise she felt a little envious of the participants.


    In some ways, Attaboy¡¯s matches were the least entertaining, with very little suspense as to the outcome. Instead, it was the closely matched battles between kids she didn¡¯t even know that she found herself compelled to watch. She couldn¡¯t help but put herself in their place, to resonate with the combatants¡¯ fierce focus and determination, even as they moved clumsily about the sectioned arena, wielding weapons without much finesse. She could tell some of them had received training Outside, but even those were far from accomplished. It was enjoyable trying to guess who would prevail, who would choke, and who would surpass their limits.


    The audience for the fifth cohort tournament was surprisingly large, which she learned was because the clans were scouting, learning who would be future competitors, and keeping an eye out for which unaffiliated newcomers might be worth recruiting.


    Attaboy is going to get a lot of attention, she realized. I hope he knows what he¡¯s getting into.


    She knew that Attaboy would be in far over his head with all the clans fighting over him, but Atticus, on the other hand¡­ well, he might be able to turn it to his advantage. So she hoped, anyway.


    She turned her attention back to the second cohort assembly, looking around the audience for anyone she knew. She recognized many of the five hundred and twenty six beings, the majority human, sitting in the stands, but that was from passing them in the halls. Some of the insiders she had seen during her lunches with Jess and Skria, but there were none to whom she had said more than a passing hello.


    It wasn¡¯t that surprising to her, as almost every Outsider seemed to be in their mid teens. These were people who had been at the academy for at least a year or two, or more. Their days in the introductory classes were long behind them, and that was where she had made most of her small pool of friends and acquaintances.


    Then she saw a new arrival, and was seen in turn. Rana Bhat, scion of the Hindutva clan¡¯s second branch, whatever that meant, was walking toward her along the top of the stands. The older girl was wearing a sky-blue sari fringed in gold, and for a moment Lilijoy felt under-dressed, or maybe just poorly dressed. She had never felt any need to dress any way other than practically, and had even come to find it a bit manipulative when she saw those who did take great care to present a pleasing appearance.


    Seeing Rana, or Ranitri as she liked to be called Inside, didn¡¯t give her that feeling though. The flowing gauze of her dress looked like internal elegance manifested in a colorful aura naturally, a field of wildflowers or a flock of bright birds.


    Is there a Sartorialism skill? she wondered. Or maybe it¡¯s magically crafted clothing?


    She could tell there was a magical component to Ranitri¡¯s appearance, as her system was weeding out mild subliminal suggestions, and resisting a subtle neurochemical rebalancing. There was no malice in the effect, but it was powerful nonetheless. It was manipulation at a higher level, but Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but enjoy it somehow, even as she was immune to most of its power.


    ¡°Greetings, Emily,¡± Ranitri said when she was close enough to speak easily. ¡°My congratulations on your rapid ascension. Might I sit?¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°And sure, have a seat.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what Ranitri¡¯s angle was, though she assumed it was not coincidence that brought the young woman to her side. She braced herself for either a recruiting pitch or further questions about her relationship with Nandi.


    Ranitri gestured to the stands. ¡°It¡¯s a good turnout today. Many of my family members don¡¯t bother to come to these assemblies, but I never tire of seeing the Insiders and the faculty together. So many different forms of life, such a richness of creation always inspires me.¡±


    As she spoke, the faculty of the second cohort was emerging onto the arena sands, and as Ranitri said, it was truly striking to see the diverse assemblage of races. While Lilijoy could identify many of the beast-kin types and of course the human-like Insiders, there were many species that she did not recognize. She was about to ask Ranitri about an intriguing being that looked something like a crystal sea anemone, though its bottom half mirrored its top half, when the girl beside her made a soft exclamation.


    ¡°Ah! Now Golden Arpentra is arriving.¡±


    Lilijoy turned to see her looking skyward, and followed her gaze to a rich golden light just breaking through the lowest clouds, followed by hanging ropes by the dozens, and then hundreds, and it was only as the first signs of the great glowing half-moon of a body emerged that her mind shed her initial misconception.


    Oh. That kind of medusa.


    Arpentra, Dean of the second cohort, was an enormous sea jelly.


    Sky-jelly, I guess. I wonder what part of the Garden he or she is from? Or is it he and she?


    Arpentra descended upon the arena, hovering over the center of the sands like some alien space ship from a twentieth century movie, tendrils reaching out to the faculty and first few rows of students and caressing them with golden currents. Lilijoy could see that the energy was akin to Prana, and its recipients seemed to enjoy the attention, smiling and visibly relaxing.


    Ranitri¡¯s hushed voice brought Lilijoy out of her reverie. ¡°This is the main reason I come though. Amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lilijoy whispered. Arpentra glowed in normal vision, but in mana sight it was like watching fireworks in slow motion, spiraling bursts of color pinwheeling around within her translucent form. It looked to Lilijoy somewhat like her own mana spindles. If she looked closely, she could see the ambient mana of the arena being sucked into the sky-jelly, which made her wonder just how high a Mana Gathering stat Arpentra could possibly have.


    After a minute or two, the great floating form began to move over the stands, and soon, golden tentacles made their way to where Lilijoy and Ranitri sat. Given her past history with tentacles, Lilijoy felt a bit uneasy, though thankfully Arpentra¡¯s tentacles did not twist and squirm. Instead, they draped, their movements minimal and gentle. One thin strand descended to Lilijoy¡¯s shoulder and she felt the golden mana on her skin, bringing with it a soothing sensation and a voice.


    ¡°Hello, Emily,¡± she heard. ¡°Welcome. I can sense that you are uneasy with foreign energies, and I understand. I would like to evaluate your health and learn about you as an individual so that I might better assist your development. May I have your permission to do so?¡±


    Well, that¡¯s a refreshing change.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She could see that similar interactions were going on all around her, which made her wonder just how many conversations Arpentra could carry on simultaneously. It made her think she might be able to learn more about dividing her consciousness from the giant being.


    She gave her consent, and then followed Arpentra¡¯s golden mana as it permeated through her body, soothing and invigorating as it went. She sped her mind up to its current maximum where external senses were involved, and then marveled at the way the sky-jelly separated her mana into thousands of tiny strands. The degree of precision and control was staggering, as was the thought that the great being was repeating the same process with dozens of others at the same time.


    ¡°My, your thoughts move fast,¡± Arpentra observed. Lilijoy jumped a little in surprise at the statement, as she had never communicated with anyone capable, or at least willing, of matching her processing speed. ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed. Your thoughts are your own. I have simply observed their speed and matched my own to that. I also noticed you watching my mana. Are you interested in the healing arts?¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to consider the question. The easy answer was yes; after all, she was interested in practically everything. She was interested on a practical level, being able to heal herself and others in and after a fight. She was especially interested in the actual mechanics of healing, how the mana was created, shaped and applied, which was more an offshoot of her general fascination with the strange energies of the Inside than a true interest in the result itself. And given a choice between studying healing and learning how to use Nandi¡¯s boon, or getting a source and learning to use that¡­ well, healing would certainly take second place.


    Still, she hated to lose a chance to work with Arpentra, which she suspected might be a possibility, considering the other knowledge she might pick up from a subset unconstrained by acting ¡®human¡¯.


    ¡°Yes, though I¡¯m most interested in the mechanics,¡± she said, trying to answer truthfully. ¡°More how than what, I guess.¡±


    ¡°You are very young,¡± said Arpentra. ¡°Still seeking the air. Means and ends have not converged, which is only proper. Bring your Healing skill to an Expert level, and I will hold you within my shade. To do that, you need to understand your Skills better, or it will take you far too long. Be well.¡±


    With that, the golden tendril left her shoulder.


    Well, I guess that¡¯s the sky-jelly way of saying ¡®take you under my wing¡¯? But what did she mean about understanding my skills better?


    Lilijoy had a sinking feeling that Rosemallow had neglected to mention yet another fundamental aspect of Inside mechanics. Either that or Arpentra was hinting at some aspect of skill use that wasn¡¯t yet apparent to someone of her level. She watched as the golden sky-jelly floated away into the cloud bank, the frilled edges of its body waving gently against the air, and thought of the contrast between this assembly and the fourth cohort¡¯s.


    No mention of rules, or tournaments or any of that stuff that Dean Reunification likes so much. This is so much better, even if it really was just a bunch of simultaneous individual meetings.


    She turned to Ranitri, who was watching Arpentra recede with something like longing in her eyes.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to use Scan, it just seemed rude. Can you tell me the name of Arpentra¡¯s race? It feels like calling¡­¡± she fumbled for a second over what pronoun to employ, ¡°¡­ her? a sky-jelly is a bit undignified.¡±


    ¡°She is a Haneupali,¡± Ranitri replied, ¡°which is, as I understand it, pretty close to what you were thinking. Arpentra is one of the only Haneupali medusae in the Garden, and doesn¡¯t care if you call her he or she, since technically she¡¯s both.¡± Her tone was distant and her eyes never left the slowly shrinking patch of golden light still percolating through the clouds.


    Lilijoy had a small revelation at that point. ¡°Did she like your sari?¡±


    Ranitri sighed and shook her head. ¡°Arpentra wouldn¡¯t notice such a thing. I wear it for myself, to represent my own devotion to her teaching.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really lovely. Do you mind if I look at it closely?¡±


    When Ranitri gave her approval, Lilijoy used Scan.


    <hr>


    Sari of Celestial Peace


    Fashioned by an Expert Tailor from silk


    made by a Master Weaver


    Attributes: Hidden


    <hr>


    I wonder what the cost for hiding attributes is? Such beautiful things can be crafted Inside.


    She admired the nearly invisible weave of the silk, the evenness and vibrancy of the color, and the intricate construction of the golden fringe.


    I wish the clans didn¡¯t work so hard to keep it all to themselves. How different would it be if all the Outsiders were free to craft as they wished without clan interference? What do the clans get out of it anyway?


    She supposed it was just a way to funnel anyone with talent into a clan, something akin to the way the old nation-states controlled their borders. The Corp contained the remnants of humanity with a fence of debt, custom and supervision. She knew that if she ever wanted to break their hold on the Inside, she would need to replace them on the Outside too.


    And replace them with what? Democracy? That didn¡¯t work out very well before, though now Guardian is around to curtail some of the worst tendencies. Still, it seems like there is an inevitable flow of power to those best able to manipulate a system, no matter what form it takes. In choosing a system aren¡¯t we really just choosing the form of manipulation used by those in power?


    Every time she considered the subject, it seemed to her that the real solution would be to change the constituents, rather than the system. Enlightened self interest depended on enlightenment after all. But it wouldn¡¯t be so simple as giving everyone the Tao system, that she knew. She feared that might be akin to arming the entire population with nuclear weapons and hoping that mutually assured destruction kept the peace.


    Lilijoy sighed as she pulled her eyes from Ranitri¡¯s garb and brought them to her face.


    She has green eyes, she observed. Ranitri seemed like a genuinely good person. Perhaps her Hindutva clan was a force for good in the world, as she seemed to believe. Or perhaps she was too blinded by tradition and privilege to notice how the people her clan supported were kept dependent by the same clan helping them. She thought about asking, but feared the answers. Plus, the last thing she wanted now was a conversation about equality and inherent rights.


    ¡°Do you study under Dean Arpentra?¡± she asked instead.


    Ranitri shook her head. ¡°No. Of the thousand in our cohort, perhaps three are so honored. There are a handful of others from the other cohorts as well. Instead, every assembly, I ask her one question, and she is kind enough to grant me an answer.¡±


    ¡°A question a month then? What did you ask her this time?¡±


    Ranitri¡¯s eyes narrowed for a split second, then relaxed. With a small laugh, she said, ¡°I suppose it is of no great importance. This time I asked her if there was any way to gift Prana to a warrior before a battle, such that their wounds would be lessened immediately after their occurrence.¡± She gave Lilijoy a teasing look. ¡°I might tell you what I learned if you tell me something of Nandi¡¯s favor, or how you came to acquire it.¡±


    That was a bit of a sore subject for Lilijoy at the moment. She had sought out the water Source at the location Magpie had described two days earlier, using her sight through the Boon to find the deep pool located in the forest about a thirty minute walk from the path. It hadn¡¯t been easy to find, as she had never been there, so when she saw the clear waters nestled against a stone outcrop she had felt a thrill of excitement.


    Trying not to get ahead of herself, she had taken her vision deep into the waters, far beyond the reach of the sun. She was a little disappointed not to see any of the skeletal dwellers as she went, but then she saw it, the Source, a faceted gem just as Magpie had described, glowing blue on the rocky bottom.


    Fingers trembling with excitement, she reached for it and took it into her grasp. The feeling of elation that passed through her was only matched by the disappointment that followed as the gem evaporated when she tried to bring it out of the Trial space.


    I should have known it wouldn¡¯t be that easy. Nothing ever is.


    She had replayed that moment in her head many times over the past day, the feeling of substance giving way between her fingers in a stream of faded blue. She had only allowed herself to truly wallow in her emotions for a minute or two, but the image kept returning nonetheless.


    ¡°I danced,¡± she said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t very good, but I was just so excited to be there.¡± She left out the part about her arm and teeth. ¡°I guess Nandi liked it for some reason.¡±


    Now I¡¯ve done it. Nandi¡¯s going to have more dancing Hindutva clan members crossing his threshold than he can shake a stick at. Hope he enjoys it.


    Ranitri pursed her lips. ¡°Dancing...¡± she said to herself.


    ¡°I might have sung a little too,¡± Lilijoy added. At this point, she was almost feeling a little bad for Ranitri and any young Hindutvas who might be impacted by what she would relay back to the clan, but not bad enough to stop.


    Should I show her the specific steps? Maybe spice it up a little? She stifled a giggle. I bet Professor Anaskafius would appreciate this.


    She wasn¡¯t sure exactly what her magic mentor cultivated, but he certainly had a strong sense of mischief hiding beneath his proper demeanor.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s only fair I tell you what I learned,¡± Ranitri said


    Now Lilijoy felt a little guilty for giving her such useless information. All the singing and dancing in the world wouldn¡¯t help if they didn¡¯t have her system, or so she believed.


    ¡°It turns out,¡± Ranitri continued ¡°That there is a way to apply Enhancement effects to mana other than with a Source spell. Unfortunately, she left it up to me to research just how that might be accomplished.¡±


    Okay, now I don¡¯t feel guilty anymore. Maybe I will once I figure out what an Enhancement effect is. It¡¯s nice to know that I¡¯m not the only one expected to figure out most of this stuff myself though.


    Once again, she kicked herself for ruining the water Source. Without a conventional Source, she had no way to learn about magic in any meaningful way. Even if she could find the other Sources Magpie had discovered, she had no way to bring them out.


    Maybe I¡¯ll need to find a way in.


    There were only a few people left on the arena stands at this point, and Lilijoy got to her feet, which brought her head just about level with Ranitri¡¯s. She couldn¡¯t help but think Attaboy might have the right idea, growing his Inside form. It didn¡¯t seem like the right move for her though. In a year or two she would be taller in both worlds, and that would be enough.


    If I¡¯m still around by then. I know I told Anda I¡¯d take it slow, but I¡¯ve got so much to do before whatever happens at the next Great Unity. I don¡¯t want to disappear without so much as a ripple in the world, and I refuse to let that happen to Attaboy either.


    She had gotten the strong sense from Rosemallow that Attaboy was the one most likely to be eaten, or used up, or whatever it was that was going to happen. In many ways, that was more motivating to her than her own self-preservation.


    ¡°Typical,¡± Lilijoy said, rejoining the conversation. ¡°I wish they would just give us the answers once in a while.¡±


    Ranitri nodded slowly. ¡°Yes, I understand. But I think of it this way. Beyond each answer are only more questions, progressing to eternity. Thus a single answer is a gift with no value, infinitesimal in its importance, experienced like an earthly pleasure and ultimately unsatisfying. A problem on the other hand¡­ that is where true happiness lies.¡±


    Well, thought Lilijoy, I guess I¡¯m the happiest girl on earth.

 Book 3: Chapter 3: Unresolved

    After saying goodbye to Ranitri, Lilijoy had a few more hours to spend on the Inside before sunrise in S?o Lu¨ªs. Then she would make the decision whether or not to divide her consciousness between the two worlds. Unless there was going to be fighting or something requiring a similar level of dedicated processing, she felt it was a reasonable thing to do, and quite possible, even easy now that her motor circuits were multiply redundant.


    Her brain was still recovering from overheating, as fixing the original neuro-circuitry was not a simple task. She had stimulated the growth of new neurons and was in the process of retraining them with the help of Stage One. It wasn¡¯t strictly necessary for her to do so, but she couldn¡¯t help thinking that having her organic brain intact would be a good thing. Even if it was more symbolic than anything else, she wanted to know that, underneath it all was still the original biology she had possessed long before the Tao System entered her life. Much of it was incorporated into Stage Two, but she didn¡¯t see that as a reason not to repair the rest.


    Now, how shall I spend my time? I could find Rosemallow and ask her what Arpentra meant about understanding skills better, or I could play around with Nandi¡¯s Boon a bit. Maybe find Skria and Jessila and see how their day is going. Find Professor Anaskafius and ask about Enhancements, or the skill thing¡­ he¡¯d probably answer that better anyway. Or maybe I should find out what classes Attaboy has. I wonder if he¡¯s in Subtle Arts?


    She allowed her legs to carry her back to the Academy building as she optimized the next few hours. She had her own classes too, though much to her disappointment she had discovered that learning about arrays would only be possible once she could craft array components, which in turn would require her to learn several additional skills such as Engraving and Runes.


    Once she had learned that, she put the array project on the back burner and decided she should take as many introductory crafting classes as she could reasonably fit into her schedule. The Inside allowed for every stage of a craft to be learned, while also providing finished materials as loot drops when appropriate. Unfortunately, those were rare, and often found in scenarios already firmly controlled by one clan or another.


    Besides that, the clans did their best to maintain monopolies on every stage of the crafting process. Want to make leather armor? Good luck finding the best leather. Inscribe a scroll? Where was the ink and paper going to come from? Worst of all was anything involving metals, which was why a simple knife, such as the one Magpie had given her, could cost as much as five silver coins. Insiders didn¡¯t do much to help the situation, preferring to trade within their own communities, both from fear of clan reprisal and their own resentment towards Outsiders in general.


    What little in the way of quality base materials did manage to make it to a common market were almost always lower quality, and even then didn¡¯t begin to address demand. Or potential demand, since nearly every Outsider who wasn¡¯t in a clan hadn¡¯t bothered to try purchasing crafting mats in generations. The crafting that did go on outside of the clans'' control was largely individuals who had taught themselves to be entirely self-sufficient, learning every stage of the process from basic materials to finished product. Even for them their best option to make an income was from a black market with greatly increased risk and artificially low prices. It wouldn¡¯t have surprised Lilijoy to learn that the clans were behind that too.


    The only successful strategy, as she understood it, was to raise one¡¯s reputation sufficiently with an Inside race so that they would provide shelter and free trade, but that was no easy matter after over a century of Outsider misbehavior.


    Anything she wanted she would need to find, or create herself, at least past the most basic levels of quality, items with no magic, or weak magic. To have a sari like Ranitri¡¯s, she would need to raise the silkworms, or whatever creatures produced silk on the Inside, learn how to loom-weave at a Master level, learn how to make dye, learn how to dye fabric, and then learn how to tailor at an Expert level. Never mind the fringe, which she suspected incorporated gold.


    Or she could join a clan.


    It wasn¡¯t impossible, and she thought it might even be inevitable, but she was far from ready to take such a step. Her long term strategies were still forming, and until she knew more about the various clans¡¯ true activities and objectives she was reluctant to involve herself. To join a clan was a commitment to deceive, and the thought of spending all the time and effort pretending to be something she was not while manipulating those around her was not attractive in the least. She had already seen where that could lead.


    I wonder where Magpie is?


    Aside from sending a single message, which had received no reply, she hadn¡¯t had contact with Magpie since the day they sneaked into Averdale. She wasn¡¯t heartbroken about it, but it did bother her. Magpie had been used almost as much as she had, and Lilijoy felt some sympathy, along with plenty of justified anger and mistrust. Her mixed emotions didn¡¯t change one important calculus though; Magpie knew things that Lilijoy needed to know and she had connections that Lilijoy wanted to use.


    Perhaps most important, Magpie knew how to acquire information that others wanted to keep secret, and Lilijoy didn¡¯t know if there was anyone else she would find with those particular skills anytime soon. On a purely practical level, Magpie could, potentially, play a vital role in her future plans. Even though she couldn¡¯t trust her, Lilijoy felt that she could predict her which was almost as valuable.


    What she couldn¡¯t predict was the organization that was using Magpie. She was still piecing together what had happened, the way that she, and Magpie, and Sinaloa even, had been pieces moved on a giant chess board. Initially, Lilijoy had felt that Eskallia was the primary force behind what had transpired, but the more she rolled all of the bits and scraps of information around in her mind, the more they outlined a different figure, one she didn¡¯t even have a name for. Internally, she had begun to call them Puppetmaster.


    All she knew about Puppetmaster, or suspected anyway, was that they were an Insider who had somehow established a presence on the Outside, that they were running schemes and operations in both worlds. Given what she knew about Insiders, she could only assume that they were at least a Tier Five subset. Beyond that were only guesses.


    The Gongen all seem to have found a path. Rosemallow¡¯s involves struggle. Nandi¡¯s is joyful anticipation. Eskallia¡¯s was, is, growth.


    She had spent quite a bit of time thinking about Eskallia¡¯s path, and paths in general. Emotions seemed to be at the core of the process, though it wasn¡¯t a neat and tidy relationship. At first blush, growth didn¡¯t seem to be an emotion at all. It was only when she thought about her own feelings involving growth that it made sense, that feeling she got when she improved, when there was a concrete sign of personal accomplishment. It was related to pride, connected to satisfaction but neither of those ideas contained the almost addictive quality, the need for more. At the same time, it existed as a primordial drive, well beneath the level of conscious emotion. It was a process, and the feelings created by the process, the true opposite of death in the way that love was the opposite of indifference.


    Though her understanding of the paths was limited, she felt like the Puppetmaster must be cultivating something like paranoia.


    She chuckled. Or maybe that¡¯s just what they want me to think.


    If it wasn¡¯t paranoia then it had to be the feeling she had during the Stealth contest, that feeling of being hidden, superior, safe and dangerous all at once. Seeing but not being seen. The words echoed in her memory.


    See, but be not seen. Think, but be not thought of.


    The edge owns the center like darkness surrounds the light.


    To be subtle is to be the threshold, the shadow, the unknown and unforeseen.


    She did know one thing for sure though; both Rosemallow and Magpie knew more than she did.


    Add that to the list of things. Except I can hardly message Magpie out of the blue to ask about her biggest secrets.


    She put that aside for the moment and turned her thoughts back to Puppetmaster. There was no way for her to know if her own role in the game was finished, or if the Averdale situation was just a part of a longer gambit. If Eskallia was able to talk, Lilijoy might have tried to get answers from her, but Rosemallow seemed to think it could be years before that would happen.


    Eskallia, Rosemallow, Puppetmaster... Professor Anaskafius? Would he know anything about this? He¡¯s known Rosemallow for a long time.


    She knew there was some kind of history between Anaskafius and her trainer. Both of them had made comments about the other in her presence that made her think they were old¡­ somethings. Friends, associates, enemies, it was honestly a bit difficult to tell, though a certain kind of respect between the two was apparent.


    With that thought she decided that seeing her magic mentor should be her next stop. She reached into her inventory and withdrew his appointment token. It was a simple device, so far as magical communication went. Sympathetically linked to an identical token in his possession, its range was limited to the general area of the Academy, and it transmitted temperature. All she needed to do was hold it tightly in her hand for a few moments, and she would know if Anaskafius was available.


    Sure enough, after ten seconds, the wooden token began to warm rapidly within her grasp, to the point where she released it before it became uncomfortably hot. This indicated that he was available to meet. It made sense as a simple tool that even the least talented academy student could use.


    Unless they¡¯re cold blooded. I wonder what he does then?


    Out of idle curiosity, she scanned the small disc.


    <hr>


    Wooden Coin of Heat Transference


    Crafted by an Expert Woodcarver


    Part of a set (Child)


    <hr>


    I wonder if Professor Anaskafius made it? One more thing to ask, I guess.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    She was on her way to Anaskafius¡¯ office, walking down the great wood-paneled hall, when she saw Attaboy slowly walking in front of her. With a little grin, she slipped into Stealth and quickly caught up to him.


    ¡°Boo!¡±


    He looked at her with mild surprise but kept walking. ¡°That¡¯s a nice trick. Did you learn that here? Also, hi, Lilijoy.¡±


    She was a little disappointed in the result. He had clearly been distracted, perhaps reading something on his internal awareness, and she had hoped for a more dramatic reaction.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget, I¡¯m Lily in here,¡± she cautioned, falling in next to him. ¡°Whatcha looking at?¡±


    ¡°Just character stuff. I leveled up after the tournament, so I was thinking about how I would spend the points. I¡¯m not supposed to do anything until I meet with Dean windbag though.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but glance around to make sure Dean Reunification wasn¡¯t lurking nearby.


    ¡°How bad is she?¡± she asked.


    Attaboy waved a hand. ¡°We¡¯ve dealt with worse. At least she can be reasoned with. She just really likes to talk at me. It¡¯s all ¡®Great Mind¡¯ this and ¡®Great Cycle¡¯ that.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m just here to have fun, plus it beats the hell out of staring at rock all day.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t worried about all the stuff I told you about being eaten?¡±


    He pulled her to the side of the hall, next to a window overlooking a grassy lawn with an archery range. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see the archers or the targets, but the sporadic arrows wobbling through the air let her know a beginner class must be in session.


    Attaboy shrugged. ¡°It just doesn¡¯t make any sense to me. Guardian was made to protect humans from their own worst impulses, when the choice looked like that or extinction. I can¡¯t wrap my head around how we got from there to cosmic mysteries taking place in an elaborate game.¡±


    Guess he¡¯s in full-on Atticus mode, Lilijoy thought. It made her sad to see her childhood friend buried under memories of the twenty-first century.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let the Insiders hear you call it a game,¡± she warned. ¡°They think we¡¯re the ones who don¡¯t understand how reality works.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the Dean has made that abundantly clear,¡± Attaboy replied, wincing. ¡°Abundantly,¡± he repeated under his breath. ¡°But I refuse to believe that Guardian would directly harm anyone without a greater good. Especially those of us...¡± he lowered his voice ¡°...with the right system.¡±


    Lilijoy hushed him. ¡°You saw how easy it was for me to sneak up on you. There could be someone from the clans standing right here, if their Stealth is high enough, never mind someone with magical listening abilities.¡±


    She didn¡¯t think it likely, as it would take at least a Master level stealther to hide in plain sight from her with her current level. But Attaboy still hadn¡¯t really grasped the realities of their world, stuck as he was between Atticus¡¯s memories and Attaboy¡¯s experience, or lack therof.


    ¡°The clans are surely watching both of us closely,¡± she continued. ¡°Let¡¯s not give them anything to work with.¡±


    Attaboy snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not like they can do much to us in here. And I don¡¯t think my situation can get much worse Outside.¡±


    Lilijoy reached out with her system and opened a communication channel.


    <It¡¯s still better to talk like this.>


    <Slow down! I can¡¯t go as fast as you yet. I don¡¯t know how you got so far into Stage Two, but I can tell you that it''s risky on many levels. I remember seeing some of the testing data from before my time, and not everyone came out in one piece.> His face had a concerned expression.


    <Well, it¡¯s not like I had any help, or much of a choice for that matter. Did you have Stage Two in your¡­ previous life?>


    <No. Not within the memories I¡¯ve recovered anyway. It wasn¡¯t necessary to create my own Stage One units; they were fabricated externally. I had to rely on what I heard from Dad and the Bros.>


    Lilijoy did a double take. <Wait. You knew the Bros before¡­ >


    <Well, yeah? I mean, they were, I guess you¡¯d call them the pioneers? The top management of Tao Systems mostly. Dad always liked to play around with titles in the company; I could never tell how serious he was about it. He was called the Grand Poobah at one point, so not very, I¡¯m guessing. So the Bros were like a take on a religious order or something. You know, Brothers. Even the women were Bros.>


    Lilijoy was still having a little trouble coming to grips with the new information. <You knew Pinton before he was¡­ Pinton?>


    <Not well. He was a hard-assed jerk back then too. I think he might have started as a bodyguard, ex-military, something like that. He was one of the first to get the system, because once Dad realized he could out-fight his own head of personal security, it only made sense to get him upgraded asap. Lee Pinton was his name, I think.>


    Lilijoy spent the next few minutes getting the stories of all the Bros that Attaboy had known when he was Atticus. By the time he was done her head was spinning. Timout was Tim Wojciechowski, an old friend of the family who Henry had brought in to help run the company finances. Onlee was, plainly enough, On Lee, a college friend and research partner of Henry¡¯s. The others Attaboy knew less well, at least with his current memories, but they all had one thing in common.


    He brought in all his oldest, most trusted friends, Lilijoy realized. Bros indeed.


    <I don¡¯t suppose you know where the whole ¡®Mooster¡¯ thing came from?> she asked.


    He shook his head. <Who knows? Dad always had a thousand names for everyone. Why not himself? It¡¯s probably something like ¡®Grabby¡¯, or some silly pun that stuck in his head over the years. I have no idea why they all ended up calling themselves by those names.>


    ¡°I need to get to a class,¡± he said aloud. ¡°Let¡¯s start walking.¡±


    They started back down the hall, both lost in their own thoughts. After a bit of silent walking, Lilijoy brought up the topic she had meant to discuss when she first approached him.


    <You need to escape Sinaloa territory. I¡¯m coming to pick you up, probably take five to seven days, so let¡¯s figure out where we can meet.>


    His steps slowed. <I¡¯m heading north.>


    <Tell me you¡¯re not still trying to complete the ¡®quest¡¯. It¡¯s probably under a hundred feet of ice, given the altitude.>


    <I have to. It¡¯s the last thing Mom said to do.>


    Lilijoy stomped her foot. ¡°Don¡¯t be a stubborn¡­ idiot!¡± she hissed.


    Attaboy looked down at her with wide eyes, an angle that seemed so wrong to her.


    <It¡¯s something I need to do. Mom- >


    <Grabby isn¡¯t your mom. Or if she is, Grabby isn¡¯t even Grabby. Whatever. She¡¯s a puppet for someone or something, and we don¡¯t know who they are, or what their motivations could be.>


    He faced forward and quickened his pace. <Who¡¯s to say that was really Dad, Henry, that you talked to? If one of them¡¯s a puppet, why not another? Besides, he said you should join me.>


    <I showed you that conversation. He said to join you ¡®if I must¡¯. I hardly think we¡¯re in ¡®must¡¯ territory here. Come back to safe territory with me and Anda. Then we can figure it out from there. You don¡¯t think you can make it on foot across over three thousand miles of mostly Sinaloa territory, do you? The ice starts in Northern Mexico. If you even make it that far, you¡¯ll freeze to death.>


    She saw the stubborn set to his features and kicked herself.


    I wonder if Atticus was just as pig-headed, she thought.


    <Look,> she said, attempting to soften her tone. <I just got you back. Let¡¯s talk about this some other time. The journey would take months by foot. If we can get a boat, or a faster hovercar or something, I bet we could get there in a couple weeks.>


    He turned back to her as they walked. <So it¡¯s ¡®we¡¯ now?>


    Did I just get played?


    <Maybe. But I can promise you that you¡¯ll get there faster if you come to meet me.>


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± he said aloud. ¡°Like you said, we can talk about it.¡±


    ***


    ¡°This tea is so much better than the first stuff you ever served me,¡± said Lilijoy.


    She was sitting with her legs curled underneath her on Professor Anaskafius¡¯ plush brown couch, mug cupped between her hands. His study smelled of hickory smoke and jasmine, and was one of the few places in either world where Lilijoy felt truly at home.


    ¡°I brought out my best in celebration of your safe return,¡± her magic mentor replied. ¡°I was this close,¡± he said waving his tea cup, ¡°to interceding on your behalf. Had I known the full extent of Eskallia¡¯s...¡± he sputtered for a moment. ¡°Well, what she did was just wrong. If I had known that was why she wanted you in Averdale, I would have...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Professor,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I understand. You didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°It is certainly not okay! It wasn¡¯t fair to you, and it was an abomination for the Greatwood as well. To be woken in such circumstances.¡± He shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s why the Archon sent Rosemallow, you know. Not for you.¡± He settled into one of his wooden chairs, his quills rippling. ¡°There. I¡¯ve said more than I should on the matter. But please accept my heartfelt apology on behalf of, well, me, I suppose.¡± His dark, beady eyes fixed on Lilijoy¡¯s. ¡°Not all of us play such games.¡±


    ¡°Professor, how did you meet Rosemallow?¡±


    He choked on the tea he had just sipped. ¡°Ah. Well, that¡¯s a bit of a story, you know. Not so sure your trainer would be happy if I shared it.¡± His eyes twinkled. ¡°So best keep it to yourself. You should know that Eskallia was not always as you found her. When she was young, she was the most¡­ well, suffice to say she was an elven maid of great beauty and power. And goodness too. There was just something about her.¡± His eyes took on a dreamy look before closing altogether. ¡°She saved people. Saved me, to be truthful. She passed through the world and left it better than it was, and those who benefited, well, we flocked to her banner, as it were.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°So it was that a small group of us, her closest friends, mighty adventurers we considered ourselves let me tell you, this small group came to hear of a fearsome creature terrorizing a peaceful land, spreading pain and suffering in its wake. It, though I should say she, as you¡¯re a smart girl and can already see where this is heading, captured those it could and killed the rest. Hundreds died under her cruel club, but they could be counted among the fortunate, for the survivors were imprisoned in a great earthen labyrinth, and there underwent horrific struggles until they could endure no more and perished.


    So this small band of brave souls, and myself as well, we made our way to the labyrinth and persevered through trials that tested our very sanity, fighting off survivors who had become twisted from their long captivity. Well, as you may have guessed, we made it through, though not before several of us were sent to respawn in horrible ways. And at the end, there she was in all her glory, Rosemallow the Foul, her tusks dripping with the blood of her latest kill and her third eye looking into our very souls. Even Shadow could not escape her scrutiny and we all cowered beneath her gaze. All save Eskallia.¡±


    He stopped speaking and took a long sip of tea. The silence stretched until Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help herself.


    ¡°What happened? What did Eskallia do?¡±


    Professor Anaskafius shook himself from his reverie. ¡°Do? My dear, Eskallia did no more than say three words to overcome the evil before us. While it was many years before Rosemallow began to resemble the person you know today, her path to redemption began in that instant, and thenceforth she and Eskallia were rarely separate.¡±


    ¡°But what did she say?¡± Lilijoy felt her curiosity burning hot within her, and then she knew what, inevitably, was going to happen next.


    Anaskafius smiled and raised a single clawed digit. ¡°Oh, I think it¡¯s much better if you think about that, my dear. What could Eskallia possibly say in such a situation, her pure soul laid bare before the monster¡¯s gaze? What would you say?¡±


    ¡°Your path is curiosity, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°In part. There have been some who wondered why I and your trainer get along so well, but I bet you know why, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Lilijoy did. ¡°It¡¯s because you understand each other¡¯s paths. Curiosity and struggle are both paths of cruelty, or they can be.¡±


    Anaskafius pushed up his spectacles. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t quite put it that way, though it¡¯s not a bad observation. What I did to you just now could be called cruel, I suppose, but no harm will result. Ideally, it will allow you to grow, much as one of Rosemallow¡¯s merciless exercise routines would. The perception of cruelty, in both cases, is very much bounded by time. Present suffering turns to future success.¡±


    Lilijoy considered this for a moment as they both sipped their tea. Finally, she returned to what could be the most important question of all, at least in the short term.


    ¡°Who was Shadow?¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 4: Repository

    The problem with posing as a servant was that at some point, someone was going to make you do servant things. Magpie¡¯s feet, still raw and wounded from her journey through the recovered lands, were suffering the most, though her hands had also acquired a host of splinters and blisters from various crates and heavy hemp sacks she had been hauling.


    Over the past eight hours, Magpie had worked her way up from uninvited porter¡¯s assistant to the ranks of those storing and securing the supplies in carefully balanced storage chambers located on the lowest level of Kuroudonain, using all her social engineering skills coupled with her ability to intercept and change the poorly encrypted signals used by the low-skill laborers.


    She had yet to determine how she could join those who would remain on Kuroudonain, as almost all the labor for stocking the great sky city¡¯s larders was sourced from the domed city on Mount Halcon. They were closely supervised by an assortment of guards and overseers native to Kuroudonain, and there was a clear division of authority and responsibility that she hadn¡¯t cracked just yet.


    ¡°What are you doing girl?¡± barked a middle aged woman wearing the tan robes of a high-level Josho clan associate. ¡°Those sacks must be tied down on both ends or they could twist and split.¡±


    Magpie bowed her head in acknowledgment and moved to redress her error.


    These people are so fussy, she thought, way too worried about details. Anything that could move the cargo around like that would cause a far bigger disaster than a few torn bags.


    The biggest difficulty so far was the higher security on the communication systems of the Kuroudonain residents. The labor-class Halcon City dwellers had virtually no encryption, not to a system like hers anyway. It seemed that higher ranks had more, and she could only imagine that the actual clan members were locked up beyond anything she could hope to crack in her lifetime.


    It was an interesting way to enforce the social hierarchy, she thought. You could only hope to keep communications secret from your peers and below. It also meant that an outsider like herself could move easily through the lower rungs of society, gathering the names and information she needed from the messages of those around her. The same went for her ability to spoof credentials. There were no time rotating quantum encrypted keys for the lower classes, just static identification and simple day codes.


    Thus, it had been relatively easy for her to occupy a position of transient labor and board the vast sky-city, but it was looking grim for her next step.


    Unless she was willing to use her trump card. Which would defeat the whole point of her journey. If she chose to, she could call upon the decryption and penetration tools available to the Flock, housed in some vast processing network at an extremely undisclosed location. It was a temptation that she had been fighting ever since the new skin on her right heel had begun to tear. If she couldn¡¯t get access to the general Kuroudonain network, then all her efforts would be for nothing.


    And I thought I could just sneak away and hide somewhere. I¡¯ve seen clan headquarters with worse security than this damn storage system. Although I guess this whole thing is their clan headquarters.


    She had pictured an enormous, dark cavern of a hold, like that from a sailing ship of old made large. Instead the vast network of small cargo holds was distributed, fastidiously clean and sparsely filled. She could feel the signals of ubiquitous inventory control cameras tickling at the edges of her system, though the cameras themselves were invisible. Worst of all, the access to the cargo holds from the populated portions of the city were closed tight, a measure she assumed must be specifically in place to prevent stowaways and other infiltrators during the loading process.


    She sighed as she walked back down a long access tunnel to fetch another load.


    This isn¡¯t going to work. What would Uncle say?


    It felt like cheating, but she could almost hear the uninflected voice chiding her.


    Humans protect their homes from enemies they understand. They use the door, so they guard the door. They hide their valuables where they wouldn¡¯t look for them. They use themselves as the model for their adversary.


    I¡¯ve been going about this all wrong, she realized. I¡¯ve let myself be the enemy they expect. I¡¯ve always relied on the Flock to give me what I needed to get a job done.


    It would take another day or two for the supplies to be loaded, the waste to be removed and the air within the great sphere to be heated sufficiently to lift back into the sky. Magpie forced her aching feet faster down the narrow access way, forced her thoughts away from the obvious solutions. While awaiting Kuroudonain¡¯s arrival, she had learned as much as she could about the sky city; were there air ducts? No one knew. Sewer lines? Uggh. And also, no one knew.


    What everyone knew was how you got chosen to work in Kuroudonain. That was simple enough, just be born into the right family, and maybe your kids would be chosen.


    I need to figure out what they don¡¯t worry about. What they don¡¯t even think about.


    For most residences, that was the roof. When said roof was miles of clear nano-aerogel composite however, Magpie could only image that it received more thought than average. No, the dome structure itself was a distant plan C.


    To get inside, I need to understand how these people live. There are at least a thousand clan members, maybe ten times that many associates. What do they do all day? What do they bring directly in to their living spaces and how does it get there? To get inside¡­


    An insight came to her. A possibility.


    How do they get Inside?


    ***


    Lilijoy paused in front of the unassuming door. Like most doors in the Academy it was a dark wood, heavy and fine grained, the handle a long black metal rod running nearly from top to bottom, no doubt to accommodate the wide variety of heights present within the Academy.


    There was no sign, no label identifying the door as one of the many identical entrances to the mystic library, something that made no sense to her. She had long since given up trying to understand exactly why things were done a certain way at the Academy. Often the answers were long forgotten, or possibly never known in the first place, at least by anyone other than the architect of the massive structure. Fittingly, the identity of that person was also unknown, though most assumed it was the Garden Archon.


    She thought it was interesting how an overabundance of mysteries could actually lead to less curiosity, rather than more. There had arisen a general consensus that any unanswered questions about the Academy were probably never going to be answered, and thus not worth anyone¡¯s time or energy to pursue. This seemed a shame to Lilijoy, as it meant that most of the Academy¡¯s inhabitants simply placed any new mystery into that same comfortable category, creating a culture of complacency antithetical to the spirit of inquiry a place of learning should possess.


    She had paused because the sun was rising Outside and she still needed to decide whether to split herself now, or wait until after her visit to the library. She had a feeling that the part of her on the Outside would feel a little sad to miss out on the direct experience of stepping into the archived memories she wanted to find today. Since she was going to be that part too, she wanted to sort out her feelings in advance.


    I guess I could just arrange for my Outside half to be perfectly happy. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s going to be a wasted trip to a long abandoned launch facility. Maybe I can try to find some animals to work with out there, if nothing else.


    That plan gave her something to look forward to, even it it was merely a consolation prize for her Outside self. With that taken care of, she split her mind and opened her eyes on the Outside.


    She was lying on a cot in the dome covered portion of S?o Lu¨ªs. Unlike New Manaus, the city had been largely abandoned for several decades after the Tribulation, a victim to armed conflicts between forces that probably didn¡¯t even exist in the modern world.


    Dying for survival. I wonder if they ever guessed that the reasons for all the fighting and destruction would be utterly lost to history? It must have seemed important at the time.


    What was left of the city had succumbed to fire and storms in large part, before being reclaimed by the Tesla Clan. As far as Lilijoy could tell, the old spaceport was the reason for their ongoing presence in the region, though she had no inkling why.


    I suppose if any clan could find a way to return to space it would be them. Why else would they be interested in a spaceport?


    It was one of several reasons she had no particular expectations of finding anything new at the place where Guardian¡¯s components had been launched into space. Not only had Tesla Clan been poking around out there for decades, but they might not even allow her to look.


    I suppose I should ask Vaughn. He seemed vaguely in charge.


    Lilijoy¡¯s interactions with Anda¡¯s friends had been¡­ strange so far. She supposed it was due in large part to the fact that she was a tiny thirteen year-old, and that the older men weren¡¯t entirely sure just what to make of her. She had noticed them giving Anda some very strange looks during the mercifully brief conversation where she had been introduced. Vaughn, John, Juan and Sepehr were their names, and they had been friendly enough, if a little condescending. Anda had joined them in some augsight activity involving alcohol after Lilijoy excused herself to drive to the coast.


    By the time she returned, all five were passed out in a variety of uncomfortable looking poses in the main room of the house where she and Anda were staying. She had tiptoed through the debris of their celebration and found a small room with a cot that looked unoccupied to lie down and join the Inside.


    When she emerged into the common space, it was much the same as when she passed through the night before, littered with mostly empty flasks and bottles. Molecules of ethanol still filled the air, about fifty parts per million, which caused her to wrinkle her nose before filtering it from her sensory stream. Her system could easily replicate the specific effects of alcohol, or indeed any psychoactive compound capable of impacting traditional human biology, and part of her wondered why Anda had even bothered ingesting such an unpleasant smelling substance.


    Anda, and his fellow imbibers were no longer present, and she could only assume they had emerged from catatonia and dragged their bodies to more comfortable surroundings. She walked to the door and noticed the Rules were displayed prominently across its surface. If she wanted, she could easily override them, but she was so rarely in public spaces she hadn¡¯t bothered for some time. A quick scan told her that Rules One, Three and Four were more or less the same as the last time she had bothered to look, but Rule Two had changed substantially.


    <hr>


    Rule Two: Given externally set,


    relatively deterministic probability distribution fields


    and an unknown degree of repository detachment,


    manipulation of local variables impacting


    possibly global entropic values is forbidden,


    absent future bounding


    <hr>


    Ooookay. That makes¡­ my head hurt a little¡­ and no sense.


    The past few times Lilijoy had encountered the Rules, she had been able to decipher them, albeit with some difficulty. This was not like those times. She could see the general gist of her previous version, could see the way that the language of Rule Two was converging with Rule One. At some level she could tell that the two rules weren¡¯t truly separate.


    Let¡¯s see, this is the ¡®don¡¯t mess with Mother Nature¡¯ one. No nukes, no fossil fuels et cetera. I can see that in the ¡®manipulating local variables to impact global entropy¡¯ part. I¡¯m going to go out on a limb and assume that ¡®future bounding¡¯ doesn¡¯t mean hopping about vigorously. But that first part¡­


    It felt like Guardian was somehow trying to communicate to her, perhaps the way people used to talk to their pets, using its version of small words and speaking slowly. And just like those ancient domestic animals, all she could do was tilt her head and try to take in the one syllable she might recognize from the stream of information posing as nonsense. In this case, the ¡®syllable¡¯ was the word ¡®given¡¯. It was as if Guardian was somehow justifying the parts of the rule she could understand. The string of words, externally set, relatively deterministic probability distribution fields had a mystic mumbo-jumbo physics quality to them, almost like a word salad generated by a decidedly unintelligent neural net. Never mind the ¡®unknown degree of repository detachment¡¯.


    A repository holds something. Is ¡®repository detachment¡¯ the degree to which something is held? But what is being contained in the repository? And how would humans using fossil fuels relate to it?


    She opened the door and stepped forth into the dim morning allowed by the clear panes of the dome. A few dusty chickens pecked halfheartedly among the scrubby shoots of hardened grass and bugelweed covering the flat area around the building, scattering fragmented asphalt pebbles. Already, the first memories from her Inside self were rolling in, beckoning for her attention.


    My brain is a repository for my two selves, but I wouldn¡¯t say there¡¯s any particular detachment. Maybe if one of them was firewalled? She shook her head. No, that¡¯s not quite right. The Inside is held within Guardian¡¯s distributed network¡­ what would it mean for it to be detached? Wouldn¡¯t that be the same as disconnected?


    She heard footsteps from within the house she had just left, someone stirring, not Anda, and decided to stay where she was for a few minutes. While she waited, she thought about the rest of her conversation with Professor Anaskafius.


    ¡°Who was Shadow?¡±


    When she had asked the question, Anaskafius had¡­ flinched, she thought. It was a brief expression, subliminal even to her discerning gaze. She almost thought it was her imagination furnishing a reaction she had been expecting, even wanted to see.


    ¡°That¡¯s another story,¡± he had said. ¡°More complicated than I can possibly explain without compromising both my¡­ obligations and your understanding.¡± He took off his spectacles and pretended to clean them. ¡°All I can say is that I can say nothing, a veritable purgatory for one such as myself.¡± He perched his glasses back on his snout and looked away from her. ¡°Now is there anything else you would like to discuss today?¡±


    Thinking back on it was almost as annoying as experiencing it the first time. Her frustration stemmed less from the lack of an answer than from the obscurity of his hint. Was he implying that she would need to reach Purgatory in order for him to tell her? That didn¡¯t seem right, as his earlier story had taken place within the Garden. The very fact that he could say nothing was extremely telling. She could only imagine it was an oath of some kind, secrecy enforced by a penalty he was not willing to bear. That seemed to be the connection to Purgatory, which required a similar oath.


    The only other time she had run across an enforced oath was that between Anda and Nandi, regarding his return to the Inside as an Orc. One of the goals of her Inside self¡¯s visit to the mystic library was to research such oaths, to determine if their use was more widespread than she was aware. The ability to bind someone to their word, she thought, was dangerously powerful, so powerful in fact, that she thought it must be exceedingly rare, or it would have shaped the entirety of Inside culture. She was almost okay with Nandi, or the Purgatory Archon having such power, but she felt strongly alarmed that it might be available to lesser beings.Stolen novel; please report.


    For one, it means that I can never fully trust anyone who is involved with the Inside, unless I were to gain such a power myself, she mused. If it were me, the first rule of taking oaths would be that there are no oaths. Which would explain Professor Anaskafius¡¯ answer.


    The more she thought about it the more it bothered her. In so many of the stories she had read, enforced oaths were tossed around without a second thought to the long term ramifications, or only available to the forces of good and the protagonist. The thought of secret networks of people bound by enforced oath, growing ever larger as more and more were recruited, developing better and better techniques for putting people into positions where they were willing to take such oaths¡­ that was a little terrifying to her.


    Hopefully I¡¯ll find out I¡¯m worrying about this for nothing. Surely there would be rules and restrictions limiting the possibilities for abuse. Maybe he just wanted to shut down the conversation. Maybe that was why he got so annoyed afterwards.


    She let her mind relax and watched the chickens for a while. Something about the way they looked, maybe the beady eyes on the sides of their heads or the jerky way they moved, made them intrinsically amusing to her. She resisted the urge to capture one with her system, at least temporarily, by reminding herself that she had other things on her agenda. Plus, whoever was up and about inside the house was walking toward the door.


    ¡°Good morning!¡± she called as the door opened. She turned from the chickens to see Sepehr emerge from the house. He looked a little startled to be greeted.


    ¡°Good morning to you,¡± he replied. He was a slight man with dark wavy hair and dusky skin. A faint rime of stubble covered his jaw. He wore what Lilijoy would swear was a black cotton t-shirt with the words, ¡®Don¡¯t Worry¡­ It¡¯s too late anyway,¡± across the front.


    ¡°I like your shirt,¡± she said. ¡°Where on earth did you get it?¡±


    ¡°Cargo ship,¡± he replied. ¡°It¡¯s amazing how many metric tons of crap people used to send across the oceans. Some of it¡¯s held up pretty well.¡±


    ¡°Certainly the sentiment did,¡±


    He smiled. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how many shirts I had to look through to find this one.¡±


    ¡°When I first saw you guys, I thought you might be time travelers.¡±


    Now he laughed, and his brown eyes fixed on Lilijoy as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°You¡¯re pretty observant.¡±


    For a gob kid, she filled in on his behalf, perhaps uncharitably.


    ¡°Anda warned us you were smart,¡± he continued. ¡°Said he¡¯d never met anyone like you before. How¡¯d you two end up traveling together?¡±


    She resisted the urge to channel Professor Anaskafius¡¯ words about Shadow at him. ¡°Long story. He helped me out of a really bad situation, and then I helped him out of all the problems he caused for himself by helping me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Basically, there was a lot of helping. How about you? What¡¯s your connection with our resident Maasai refugee?¡±


    Sepehr cracked a knuckle. Then another. ¡°Huh. The opposite, I guess. He screwed us out of a good situation, and then we screwed him right back. Metaphorically speaking. Nonetheless, a lot of screwing. All good fun, water under the bridge and all that. But the end result was him getting kicked from his clan, more or less on our behalf, so we kind of feel responsible for the big lunk.¡±


    ¡°So is ¡®we¡¯ the four of you?¡±


    ¡°Yup. Well, there¡¯s one more, but she¡¯s stuck up north. Just as well, would have put a damper on the fun last night.¡±


    Lilijoy was pretty sure she didn¡¯t want to know what the ¡®fun¡¯ was.


    ¡°I was thinking of going up to the old space port today¡­ do you think that would be alright?¡± she asked.


    He moved his hand to his chin and pretended to think. ¡°Hmmm. Well, if you promise not to tell anyone about the super secret spaceship we¡¯re building out of unicorns and old shoes.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t tell if he was being condescending or if he was just strange, so she played along.


    ¡°Get me a unicorn and it¡¯s a deal. But really, I don¡¯t want to step on any toes.¡±


    ¡°No problem. If you can find anything that you aren¡¯t supposed to, then we¡¯re in real trouble.¡±


    Now that¡¯s condescension. And a challenge.


    ***


    Lilijoy opened the door to the Mystic Library. The room that greeted her was the same as always, a simple, windowless stone cube with a plain octagonal table in the center. One tall-backed armless chair sat on the opposite side of the table from her, facing the door. The room always had the correct number of chairs for the number of people entering, and once she took her seat, no one could enter. She assumed that the library instanced rooms as needed, as she had never needed to wait for one.


    Seated at the table, she felt a now familiar twinge of excitement. There were answers in front of her, she knew it, if she could just come up with the right questions.


    Who was Shadow?


    That, obviously, had not been the right question, though it had certainly opened new paths of inquiry for her. The new problem of oaths, and what they might imply for her future endeavors, was deeply troubling. As troubling as that was, the new information she had learned about her skills balanced it out, even if the end of the lesson hadn¡¯t been ideal.


    Professor Anaskafius had seemed almost grateful when she had turned their conversation to the topic of skills. He had also been very pleased with her motivation.


    ¡°The chance to study directly with Arpentra is even more valuable than you realize, my dear,¡± he had said when he learned of her conversation with the Haneupali. ¡°It will offer untold advantages in the future if you obtain her approval. Now as to understanding your skills, well, that is a journey all by itself. I know you have already learned how the magi portion of a skill must be learned and trained to make use of its potential, so I¡¯ll simply urge you to continue your explorations in that area. It is in the other half of your skills where you can improve your understanding. Tell me what you have learned so far.¡±


    ¡°The natural portion of the skill reflects our concrete knowledge,¡± Lilijoy recited. ¡°It can only be raised by study or practice.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Precisely. Now let us examine your Nature: Plants skill. It is a top-level skill that you have understood to the Journeyman level. Do you imagine it is harder or easier to raise than, say, the Herbalism skill?¡±


    She didn¡¯t have to think. ¡°Harder.¡±


    ¡°Naturally. It encompasses a significantly greater body of knowledge that happens to include all of Herbalism. One could imagine a situation where your knowledge of magic and potent herbs, their life cycles, gathering and storage was vast, and yet your knowledge of some other aspect of plants was limited. Were you strictly an Herbalist, this would be of no great moment. You might be at a Master level, and have raised your magi skill accordingly. But as your skill is Nature: Plants, perhaps you would still be at the Expert level, or even still at Journeyman.¡± He paused and looked at her over his spectacles.


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about that,¡± she replied to his unasked question. ¡°I know someone with the top-level Weapons skill. Surely she is far better with some weapons than others though. It seems like more like a penalty in the long term, as wouldn¡¯t she need to raise them all to advance her skill level?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied. ¡°It is a curse as well as a blessing. On the one hand, your friend might be able to pick up a strange weapon and apply her full magi skill, even if her wielding was sub-par. But as you noted, she might be at a disadvantage against a swordsman who was no better than she, simply because her magi skill was limited by her top-level skill.¡±


    Lilijoy considered this for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s some way around it, or you wouldn¡¯t be telling me all this.¡±


    Anaskafius winked at her. ¡°More than one, in fact. What most discover, or are taught when the time is right, is that high-domain skills, that is to say, those which include or subsume other skills, offer the option to specialize once the Expert level is reached.¡± He held up a finger to forestall her questions. ¡°This allows a sub-skill to reach a higher level, both in the magi and natural portions. As you might imagine, it is somewhat rare for a student at the Academy to attain Expert in a high-domain skill, and also reach the Master level at a sub-skill, so most remain unaware of the possibility until much later in their personal journey.¡±


    ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°But you want to reach Expert in a skill where you are only at Apprentice level, so how does this help you, you are about to ask?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Well, as you may have guessed, the high-domain skill subsumes the sub-skills, but they do not vanish completely. With effort, you should be able to examine your Medical: Healing skill and see precisely which aspects you need to address. It is even possible that Arpentra would be satisfied if one of those sub-skills reached the equivalent of Expert. Though she may need you to raise the magi portion as well, so it would be best to seek clarification next time you can talk to her.¡±


    ¡°So I can raise a sub-skill, but I wouldn¡¯t be able to use the magi part of it until reaching Expert in the whole thing?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I have even heard of those who sacrificed the high-domain skill to gain full advantage of a sub-skill, though I would very much advise against following that path.¡±


    ¡°You can do that? How?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°Manipulating skills, wisely or unwisely, is something that must be discovered on an individual level. If I-¡±


    ¡°If you told me how you do it, it might interfere with my own progress,¡± she broke in, frustrated to add another task to her ever-growing list of things to learn.


    He blinked a few times and she felt a pang of regret for interrupting.


    ¡°The fact that you find it cause for resentment is a sign of how much you have to learn, my dear,¡± he said, his tone unusually stern. ¡°Be grateful for the framework we provide in which you can make your own discoveries. It is no small feat to teach no more and no less than what a student needs to rise to their fullest potential in the future. Be thankful we do not spoon knowledge down your throat and cripple you by so doing!¡±


    For a moment, he sounded like the character he had assumed the very first time they met.


    Where did that come from? She replayed the conversation in her mind. Oh. I sounded like an entitled snot. Huh.


    ¡°Sorry, Professor,¡± she said. ¡°I just...¡±


    He gave her a look and she stopped herself.


    After a moment he spoke again, sounding more like his typical, jovial self.


    ¡°Bit of a sore spot for me, I¡¯m afraid. It¡¯s worth thinking about though, especially as you have already gained the Teaching skill. Some students, the least able, I¡¯m afraid, require a great deal of knowledge, explained ever so clearly so that they might, just might, gain the lowest level of understanding. Others are talented, but have been corrupted by indulgent teachers, who reward even partial comprehension. They become dependent, and their learning stops the moment they leave the system providing the rewards and the pre-chewed knowledge. Most of the Outsiders here fall into this category, in my opinion.¡±


    He got to his feet and walked her to the door, still talking. ¡°Teaching that destroys curiosity is an abomination. If you leave my study today more ignorant than you would like, but hungry for answers, then I have done my best.¡±


    Sitting at the octagonal table of the mystic library, Lilijoy still felt a little embarrassed she had riled up the genial Professor. A part of her wondered if, perhaps, his anger had been another act, a way to drive home a point that he clearly thought valuable for her to learn. She decided that it didn¡¯t really matter though. Act or not, his words resonated with her own sense of self-reliance, validated it in some ways.


    She placed her hands on the table, prompting the now familiar plumes of white smoke to bellow forth.


    Pay the Price for Knowledge


    Time or Experience?


    Oaths or Echelon?


    ¡°Library, show me what memories you have about Echelon, possibly known as The Master of Five Eyes.¡±


    She knew she could just think it, but she had gotten in the habit of speaking aloud while she and Magpie were working together. Plus, it just felt more fun that way.


    What happened next was new. A single word appeared in the smoke, in two red letters.


    No


    Previously, if the library didn¡¯t have information or a memory on a certain subject, the response would be ¡®not available¡¯. They had been unable to determine if that meant unavailable to them, or unavailable in general.


    ¡°Library, please explain your answer.¡±


    Insufficient Credit


    and/or


    Lack of Permission


    The words appeared two or three at a time, each group fading into the next.


    ¡°Library, please explain insufficient credit.¡±


    Requested Memories


    Require a Deposit


    Of Equal Value


    Or More


    ¡°Library, please explain lack of permission¡±


    Permission of


    Original Depositor


    Required


    Lilijoy rolled her eyes. ¡°Library, identify original depositor.¡±


    Head of School


    Eskallia Treetouched


    She sat still for a moment, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. The memories were there, just out of her reach. She could only imagine what she would learn from Eskallia¡¯s memories of Echelon.


    And that¡¯s all I¡¯m going to do, imagine. Ain¡¯t no one getting permission from Eskallia any time soon.


    ¡°Library, original depositor unavailable, possibly permanently. Is there any alternative source of permission?¡±


    Nothing happened for several seconds. Then¡­


    What do you know?


    The words looked different, and it took her a moment to realize that they were not all capitalized.


    ¡°About what? Head Treetouched?¡±


    Yes


    ¡°Quite a bit, actually. At least about what really happened to Head Treetouched.¡±


    Reeeally?


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how a word in smoke conveyed such a high degree of skepticism, with a little sarcasm thrown in for good measure. Perhaps it was the extra ¡®e¡¯s.


    ¡°Who am I talking to?¡± she asked. ¡°This doesn¡¯t seem like the normal library routine.¡±


    Mystic


    Right. Mystic Library. Is a being. Of course it is.


    ¡°And you run the library?¡±


    Only when I have to.


    ¡°So.. do you have a body, or some other way to talk? This whole smoke routine is getting old.¡±


    It¡¯s not smoke.


    It¡¯s mist.


    Get it?


    Mist-ic.


    Did I fall into a Piers Anthony novel? Ew.


    ¡°That¡¯s.. funny?¡± She didn¡¯t want to insult the library. Or was it librarian? Either way, she wanted them nice and happy. ¡°But is this the only way we can talk?¡±


    Yes.


    Sorry.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I¡¯m used to it by now. So what if I traded some of my memories for the memory I want?¡±


    Maybe¡­


    I like knowing things.


    What do you know?


    And we¡¯re back to that.


    ¡°I was the one who Eskallia used to engineer the second fall of Averdale. I talked with Doctor Quimea, I helped awaken the Greatwood. I planted what was left of Eskallia at the top of the Greatwood to keep it company.¡±


    And?


    ¡°What that¡¯s not enough?¡±


    There¡¯s always more.


    Always.


    Tell me.


    Lilijoy was beginning to get a bit of a creepy vibe from the words in the smoke.


    ¡°The rest is things I want to keep private. For now anyway.¡±


    I won¡¯t tell.


    I¡¯ll pay you.


    ¡°In credits for other memories? Like the one I want?¡±


    Yes.


    ¡°So if I¡¯ve got this right, this is how you get the memories in the first place. You convince people who come in here to trade their memories.¡±


    Just copies.


    They¡¯re delicious.


    Lilijoy felt her jaw drop. ¡°Delicious? Are you some kind of memory vampire?¡±


    Did I say


    that out loud?


    Oops.


    It¡¯s got to be pulling my leg. Right?


    ¡°So why is this the first time we¡¯re talking like this? I¡¯ve been in here dozens of times.¡±


    Please, girl.


    First year


    Outsider


    Sooo boring.


    ¡°Have you ever heard of emojis? I think they could really help you communicate more clearly.¡±


    Outside stuff


    forbidden


    (sad face)


    I suppose that makes sense. The clans would totally freak out if their memories could be traded around.


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame. I¡¯ve got some good Outside stuff too.¡±


    <cries>


    ¡°How does this all work? How do I choose what to give you, and how do I know what it¡¯s worth? How do I know it will be a fair trade?¡±


    Interesting now,


    interesting later.


    ¡°You want repeat customers. Got it.¡± She hated to ask, for fear of ruining her opportunity, but she didn¡¯t have much choice. ¡°If you are willing to show me Eskallia¡¯s memory without her permission, why wouldn¡¯t you do the same for my secrets?¡±


    Levels:


    1. Everybody


    2. Faculty


    3. Permission


    4. Only me


    ¡°So the memories of Averdale I accessed...¡±


    Level one.


    Duh.


    ¡°And that¡¯s how someone could experience my memories? I¡¯m not sure I want someone knowing what I was thinking.¡±


    More Levels:


    1. Senses


    2. Thoughts also


    Thoughts better


    more credits


    ¡°You never really answered me about Eskallia¡¯s memory. If it¡¯s a level three, how can I access it?¡±


    Extenuating


    circumstances.


    Also


    more credits.


    ¡°So you have some discretion.¡±


    Shhhh.


    ¡°Especially if someone will pay.¡±


    Why I never...


    Yes.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t know quite what to make of the being on the other side of the conversation. They seemed¡­ morally flexible, and she wasn¡¯t so sure about entrusting her own memories. They haggled back and forth for ages. She managed to negotiate the trade of a highly edited version of her adventures in Averdale, senses only, in return for the memory she wanted. For another hundred credits, which the library assured her was quite generous, she recorded a more complete version, with her thoughts included. That one was to stay at level four, only to be moved to level two in the event of her documented, permanent death, or fifty years, whichever came first.


    Trusting the library was a risk, but not a huge one she felt. It had sworn to her that level four was utterly inviolable, unlike level three, where it might be able to apply discretion if the permission granter was unavailable or dead. The very first memory she had shared was the one which proved that Eskallia was out of the picture for a long time, if not forever, and after that, everything had gone smoothly.


    She was tempted to spend some time browsing, to see what kind of things she could learn with her newly earned credits, but the memory she had just purchased was calling.


    ¡°Library, show me the conversation between Eskallia Treetouched, at the time known as Eskallia Everbough, and Echelon.¡±


    The mists took her back in time, to the meeting that changed everything.

 Book 3: Chapter 5: Lethologica

    She was¡­ Eskallia Everbough, approaching a crackling campfire, its dancing flames visible between the massive sandstone boulders that surrounded her on every side. Her footsteps made no sound on the mixture of coarse rubble and sand underfoot.


    Who would be out here in the middle of the stone desert? And who would be so foolish, or so confident to have built a campfire? she wondered.


    It felt good to be away from the innocent selfishness of her students at the Academy. She had come to this remote corner of the Garden to escape her troubles and her responsibilities, to stop pretending, just for a few days. Or weeks. No more than a month or two, she promised herself.


    Here there were enemies to fight that might distract her, if only a little, from the storms of rage and helplessness that surged within. Perhaps she would even find something new, wonders or horrors that she could consume to numb her impotent anger. Her work at the Academy had helped at first, for years even, as she channeled all she knew to train generations of youth, always hoping, always thinking beneath her facade of wisdom and goodness, that perhaps this Outsider, or this other one, might be the one to finally bring forth the justice upon her enemies that she was forbidden.


    Even those from the hated clan itself she taught, for the changes she sought could come from within the enemy, and she compressed her rage to the deepest parts of her being where it coiled and festered, all so that she could plant the seeds of her future victory with a benign smile.


    And it had all been useless, the seeds fallen on the barren soil of the Outsiders¡¯ intrinsic nature. Her meeting with the Child of the Great Mind, though she had not understood his status at the time, had sustained her over the years, given her faith that these beings from a corrupted world had the potential for goodness as well as great evil. ¡®Fight fire with fire¡¯ he had told her, a simple wisdom that had nonetheless opened her eyes to a new approach. At the time it had seemed the answer, to train and influence Outsiders and use them to neutralize each other¡¯s evil. Now, she feared it had been, if not actively harmful, a futile endeavor.


    She shook off the cold grip of despair that was her constant companion when her rage was banked. The fire beckoned, calling her for a brief respite from the frigid night air.


    Why not, she thought. It¡¯s not like there¡¯s anything that could truly threaten me in the Garden.


    She peered between the two boulders, trying to get a sense of who the fire might belong to. Sitting with his back to her was a man, or at least she assumed it was from the crudely cropped black hair and broad shoulders. He was wearing¡­


    ...is that a Trial tunic? What would a newly arrived be doing all the way out here? How would he even survive the first hundred feet of the desert?


    ¡°Hello.¡± The man said without turning. ¡°I made a fire.¡±


    Eskallia jumped back, pulling a circling halo of water from her source and a blade from her belt. Something was terribly wrong, that this figure by the fire would have sensed her presence. She quickly ran through the possibilities, monsters that used illusions to lure travelers, creatures that possessed the unwitting and rode their bodies, shapeshifters and other evils.


    ¡°What are you?¡± she called out. ¡°I will brook no evil in my presence.¡±


    Only in my heart, she thought.


    The man turned around, squinting his eyes against the night. ¡°My name is Sergei,¡± he called back. ¡°What is your name? I like your water spell.¡±


    ¡°How did you detect my presence?¡± she demanded.


    The man turned back to the fire. ¡°You were blue. Everything else is dry.¡±


    She used Scan.


    <hr>


    Echelon


    Magus


    Peaceful


    Level: 35 H.P.: 82


    Damage Abatement: 80-100


    Top Skill: Swimming


    <hr>


    She blinked in surprise and scanned him again, with the same results. In her many years looking at Insiders and Outsiders, she had never seen anything remotely like what was in front of her eyes. It could only be the work of a Master, even a Grand Master in Deception, with a Charm: People trait far beyond any she had ever heard of.


    Is he mocking me? Is it the Garden Archon playing a prank? Or worse, has <censored> somehow penetrated the Garden?


    Whatever, whoever it was, her self-indulgent emotions vanished in a new wave of urgency and focus. She could feel her heart beating with excitement, even fear, an emotion she had thought long suffocated by her circumstance. She didn¡¯t consider for a moment that the information in front of her was valid. Anyone with even a little skill in Deception could hide details such as damage abatement, and only the lowest level, newest students with abnormally low Charm couldn¡¯t hide their top skill. Which was swimming.


    It¡¯s just too much. The Garden Archon would never be such a trickster.


    She knew what she had to do. She squeezed between the boulders and entered the flickering light of the fire.


    ¡°Very funny, Lo-¡±


    She felt the force of her Purgatory oath descend upon her, and she stopped herself just before she incurred his penalty.


    That doesn¡¯t make any sense. Why would the oath bind me when I am in front of the Oathgiver?


    She looked again at the person, who had turned to her with wide eyes and a vacant smile. His hair was cropped in a circular cut around his head, his face was round and unlined, not just young, but¡­ unshaped, as if he had rarely smiled, or frowned, or indeed used any expression.


    It¡¯s not him. Then who is it?


    ¡°Hello,¡± he said again.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she replied. She kept her dagger at the ready, and added more streams of water to join the one circling her body, already forming the blades of ice compressed torrents would carry into him if he so much as sneezed. ¡°I ask again. What are you! Speak or suffer!¡±


    A brief look of alarm crossed his face, followed by a slowly dawning comprehension.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I used the wrong name. My name here is Echelon. I looked up what I should do after the screen asked, and the old internet said I should choose a gamer name that was mysterious and that used my hobbies. I didn¡¯t like the way it felt when I added the numbers though, so I just kept it all letters.¡±


    Eskallia blinked. Then blinked again. She opened her mouth, trying to find the next words one would speak after such a statement, and found that there were in fact no words that followed. She settled for nodding, and took a step away, placing her back to the nearest boulder and moving her bladed jets between them. He watched her expectantly, patiently, as if she was no threat to him, as if they had just met at a market.


    An Outsider. He¡¯s an Outsider. Only an Outsider could spew such nonsense. She let the thought settle briefly. Then why am I still afraid?


    Even with her abilities suppressed, there was no Outsider who could threaten her in the Garden, she would bet her life on it. She had even spent precious points raising her Charm: Person and Manipulation skill in preparation for the day that had never come, the day when she might finally confront the architect of her people¡¯s woes.


    She sheathed her dagger and released her spell, allowing the water to drop and vanish into the arid ground. The blades of ice crackled and chimed as they fell onto the stones.


    ¡°My name is Eskallia Everbough,¡± she said. ¡°May the light fall upon you.¡±


    He looked upwards, then shook his head, mumbling something to himself that even her sharp elven ears couldn¡¯t catch. Then he turned to watch the fire. The silence stretched until Eskallia began to feel uncomfortable.


    ¡°How long have you been Inside?¡± she inquired.


    He kept his gaze upon the flames as he answered. ¡°Four years, forty-three days. Or twenty-three days.¡±


    The uncomfortable silence had resumed by the time she realized he wasn¡¯t going to explain, and lengthened until she had no choice but to speak again.


    ¡°What do you mean by that, ¡®or twenty-three days¡¯?¡±


    He scratched his head. ¡°I thought I was Inside, but then my screen said ¡®Welcome to the Inside¡¯ twenty-three days ago. That¡¯s when I chose my name.¡±


    Eskallia sat for a long time, trying to process what he had told her, the silence now a blessing.


    He was in the Trial for over four years. She thought it again, just to make sure. He was in the Trial for over four years.


    ¡°You were in the Trial for over four years?¡± she found herself asking.


    ¡°One thousand, four hundred and seventy-nine days. It¡¯s a very boring number.¡±


    As faculty at the Academy and Dean of the Third Cohort, Eskallia understood the Trial very well. She knew her knowledge was a bit biased, as the Academy only received the very best performing Outsiders, but this was far past anything she had ever heard of. She was pretty sure there were mechanisms to bring students to the last stage of their Trial at the appropriate time. Even if there weren¡¯t, or if they had somehow gone awry for this person, who in their right mind would spend such a length of time in that situation?


    ¡°What have you been doing since you arrived?¡± she asked.


    Echelon¡¯s gaze remained on the fire, his body rocking just the smallest amount.


    ¡°Identifying. Learning. I made this fire.¡±


    Eskallia followed his gaze, and realized for the first time that there was no wood, just a small pile of stone.


    ¡°So you have a fire Source. Well done.¡± She couldn¡¯t help but slip into her familiar role of teacher, now that she understood he was a very, very strange Outsider at the very beginning of his learning process, rather than an existential threat to the Garden as she knew it. ¡°What else can you do?¡±


    His Magus title was new to her, but she knew that such a title could mean something extraordinary. She was not disappointed. One by one, the flaming rocks of the fire began to rise smoothly into the air and circle around his seated form. Before her eyes, they began to stretch, elongating and joining until he was surrounded by a ring of molten rock, in what she knew could only be an imitation of her water spell.


    He¡¯s combining fire and earth! He shouldn¡¯t be able to¡­


    Her thought was interrupted, as the water she had abandoned to the ground minutes before began to rise around her, leaping from the earth in drops to join a second loop around the young man. The drops hissed and boiled when the loops intersected, and soon the second loop was a dense white band of compressed steam. It was only a few seconds more before his body sagged, and the two loops ceased their relentless motion, the magma falling to the ground, the steam evaporating to the sky.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do ice yet,¡± he said with a tired voice.


    Eskallia fought the urge to draw her dagger and put her back against the boulder.


    He¡¯s a monster.


    It wasn¡¯t just four Sources. Such a thing was conceivable, though not advisable, as it would spread the practitioner too thin. No one in the Garden would have enough free points to do justice to so many Sources; even two was stretching it, and would guarantee severe weakness in other areas. But it wasn¡¯t that he had four Sources, or even that he could use all four at once. It wasn¡¯t even that he could somehow blend them, a feat she had seen performed before with two sources, though very rarely.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    None of those things were enough to re-evaluate his status as existential threat to the Garden as she knew it. What had her heart pounding and stomach churning in ways they hadn¡¯t since the day she was caught by a dangling creeper and became tempered was that he hadn¡¯t been using any spells. She had just witnessed direct Source manipulation, something that <censored>.


    What do I do with this? This Outsider could destroy entire cities, could¡­


    She realized what, in fact, this Outsider could do.


    He¡¯s the answer. After all this time¡­


    The clearing among the boulders was dark and the wind was driving away the residual heat. Echelon remained utterly still, but soon new rocks rolled into a pile at the enter, and once again the flames leapt in the air.


    ¡°I have a question,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°What are free points, and how do I use them?¡±


    ***


    The mists swirled and the fire blurred and receded from Lilijoy¡¯s awareness.


    ¡°Library, pause memory,¡± Lilijoy said.


    She sat back and rested the back of her head against the chair, staring at the stone ceiling.


    Well, now I feel like an underachiever. Where do I even begin?


    So that was Echelon. Perhaps she could begin with the most amazing aspect.


    He had an even worse fashion sense than I do. Was that a bowl cut? Four years in the Trial¡­ why didn¡¯t I think of that?


    But really, who would think of that? The Trial was a gateway, the thing you did so you could do the thing you wanted to do. And yet she had Nandi¡¯s Boon. With enough time and training, perhaps she could repeat Echelon¡¯s feat. Perhaps it was his raw power that allowed him to withstand whatever, well, trials were also coming her way. Or Attaboy¡¯s.


    She shook her head, thinking about all she had learned, thinking about her glimpse into the mind of Eskallia, and the sobering reason she had taught at the Academy.


    She was trying to forge students into weapons against Sinaloa, and she finally succeeded with me. She finally found someone so naive, so malleable that she could turn them to her ends without them ever knowing.


    Lilijoy found herself torn between humility and pride in a very uncomfortable way. How many students had been caught in Eskallia¡¯s plans over the years? And was it really wrong, what she had been made to do? She had finally brought defeat, if not really justice, to Sinaloa, given them a measure of punishment for the terrible things they had done. Even if she was just a tool.


    What frightened her the most was the realization that she wasn¡¯t truly much wiser than she had been that day in the Grove when Eskallia had turned her into a vessel of retribution, that there were other beings like Eskallia, who had their own plots and goals stretching over far more years than she had been alive. She was still just as vulnerable, just as likely to flinch from safety and run to danger, not recognizing the difference until it was too late.


    ¡°Library how long are Eskallia¡¯s memories of Echelon?¡±


    Four years.


    Just kidding.


    Thirty hours.


    Edited.


    ¡°Speaking of edited, what was with the censoring?¡±


    I think


    you know.


    ¡°Purgatory stuff. Do you do that?¡±


    Yes.


    She thought about that for a moment, as it had bearing on her other research project. It seemed that the Purgatory oath was taken very seriously indeed.


    ¡°Library, what happens when someone breaks the Purgatory oath?¡±


    Can¡¯t say.


    What oath?


    Well, that figures.


    ¡°Library, do you have any memories from someone who broke that oath?¡±


    No


    That was pretty definitive, more so than she had expected. The Library was quite certain that no one who had broken that oath had left any memories. Or it was misleading her.


    ¡°Library, how many written entries do you hold pertaining to oaths, their creation and enforcement?¡±


    That knowledge


    is restricted.


    She had run into this before, researching about wards while preparing her infiltration of Averdale. She knew from experience that she could probably learn a bit, if she was willing to spend the time to narrow down the parameters of her inquiry. There might be texts with sufficiently oblique references, or memories from which she could infer an oath¡¯s presence or penalties. It didn¡¯t seem like the best use of her time at the moment though, fishing blindly for scraps. First, she would ask Rosemallow, and then maybe Professor Anaskafius. Once some time had passed.


    Maybe Marcus or Anda could tell me more on the general subject too, she realized. I need to be better about asking their advice. Maybe even following it too.


    It was a surprisingly difficult thought. She had been ripped from her life of abject ignorance so abruptly, given immense power she had only begun to understand and flung herself, or been flung, from one challenge to another. The universe seemed intent on setting her apart, pulling her apart, forcing her to rely on herself alone and teaching her the dangers of trusting others.


    Is that how this ends, growing stronger until I can no longer relate to anyone? Then what, do I split myself when I need company? Entertain myself with my own internal universe of subsets? Or better yet, why not remove that need altogether?


    What¡¯s the point?


    A wave of loneliness crashed over her, and at that moment she could only think of Eskallia, wandering in the desert, looking for something, anything to distract herself from her unhappiness. From the outside, it was obvious that her existence had become compressed, everything passed through a filter of retribution poorly masquerading as justice.


    She was lonely too. I guess that¡¯s one problem you can¡¯t grow out of. And then she finds Echelon, someone¡­ unique, and all she can think of is using him. She thought she knew why she was doing what she was doing, she had a purpose and it consumed her. Devoured her from the inside. Are those my choices, devoured by the Inside or from the inside?


    Lilijoy sat in silence, thinking, trying to understand Eskallia, thinking of how powerful the experience of seeing through another¡¯s eyes could be. She thought of the danger posed by Emily¡¯s memories, her struggles to avoid losing her identity, the way she had walled them off. Now she had let Eskallia¡¯s experiences into her head without a second thought.


    Well, I guess I¡¯m having the second thought now, right? Instead of being amazed by Echelon, or happy to have finally learned about him, I¡¯m wallowing in a morass of¡­ Eskallia. But only because it resonates, she resonates with me. There¡¯s a big red button I can push to make myself happy, to remove the loneliness and doubt, so why haven¡¯t I pushed it?


    She had the power to change her own emotions, but increasingly she had become aware of an odd paradox, that it took emotion to change her emotions. There were times, and they were becoming more common, when how she felt made her very reluctant to alter her brain¡¯s chemistry, even when she was struggling. It had become a real issue, ever since she had experienced the dichotomy between her thoughts in Stage Two and her biological mind without Stage One assisting. There was a fear it seemed, among her other emotions, a fear that she would turn into something monstrous, something unhuman, if she followed that path.


    With a thought, she checked on her Outside self¡¯s memories, suddenly anxious to connect to a part of herself unaffected by whatever mood had her in its grasp. She remembered her morning, analyzing Rule Two, watching chickens, talking to Sepehr. Now she was in the hovercar, nearly at the old spaceport.


    She reached out. Hey self!


    Hey yourself...self. I have an idea for you. Well for us, but since Eskallia¡¯s memories are getting you all wiggy¡­ anyway, what if we pulled the emotions from our soul vortex?


    She could feel the reasoning of her other self, and they shared a memory of a similar conversation, a similar thought process, when the part calling herself Jiannu had pointed out the power they had, the leverage to look out for one another. Without meaning to, their thoughts converged, and she was one mind in two places, not split but simply herself, doing two things.


    Since both of those things involved sitting passively, there was no strain, no sense of difficulty whatsoever. In fact, she realized that splitting her mind had been, while perhaps not a crutch, a necessary illusion, that the distinction between performing multiple actions and sorting multiple senses was a residue of sorts from an earlier stage of consciousness. Her brain, her system had the power it needed, whether she chose to perceive it as two streams of consciousness or one. There could be a continuum in the degree of separation, rather than a harsh distinction between selves.


    A sense of uplifting clarity stemming from her perceptual breakthrough filled her, washing away the sense of futility that had infected her, that had been infecting her, slowly and subtly since her experiences in Averdale.


    No, she realized, not futility. Trauma.


    Her system was working to control the symptoms, effectively controlling them in fact. But it wasn¡¯t the symptoms that were the culprit here, it was the higher order emotions, Anda¡¯s so called rational emotions, that were impacting her. Maybe trauma wasn¡¯t the right word for it. The events of the last month had begun to change how she perceived the world, and with the end of her innocence had come¡­


    Experience? It¡¯s is the opposite of innocence, but that doesn¡¯t capture it.


    She cast about for a word, a word that contained the essence of what she was feeling, what she was becoming.


    Corruption.


    It was a harsh word, but as she thought about the changes just within the past week, she couldn¡¯t think of one better. Her experiences had begun to twist her in subtle ways.


    She dove to her soul vortex and followed the swirling threads that captured her feelings and experience, searching for some evidence of her suspicion. If the spinning, multi-dimensional construct represented her foundation, the powers she had derived from experience, then she thought she might be able to see it, see the growing taint that was beginning to play a role in her world view. The core was within her and contained her, and so far she had only the faintest notion of how to use it.


    The glowing threads of the path of joyful anticipation she had only just begun were the first thing she could discern in the mass of loops and twists. But rather than a burgeoning, she saw fading, or perhaps a growing lack of continuity, disjunct patches connected by the faintest threads. There was her encounter with Arpentra, a burst of diamond tinged with gold, and connected to that, around a curving corner that traced a dimension with no correspondence to space and time, she saw her most recent experience in the library, a smaller bundle of tangled pearlescence.


    The most recent experience along her path, that tangle of glowing white, looked distorted to her, as if acted upon, or contained by an invisible repressive force. She struggled to make sense of it, to understand the parameters, the nature of the interaction between joyful anticipation and¡­ whatever it was. It was an absence rather than a presence, and no matter how she tried to trick herself, to categorize and name the unknown, to assign it color, or sound or scent, her mind refused to give it form. The harder she pressed the more she felt an uncomfortable sense of confinement.


    I wonder if that¡¯s what claustrophobia feels like, she thought. It¡¯s like trying to remember something, or come up with a word that I should know. Tip of the tongue spread across my entire being.


    She withdrew, and the sensation lingered like bitter dandelion sap upon her tongue. She put that to the back of her mind and plunged back in, only to retreat in frustration, overwhelmed and disoriented.


    I need something specific to follow. What is the thing I¡¯m most reluctant to examine? Where is the most resistance?


    She was thinking of Anda, his idea that fear was the warrior¡¯s weight.


    What am I afraid to find?


    She returned yet again to the soul vortex, and this time tried to follow her own reluctance, pushing her perceptions against a gradient of fear. There was no traction, only frustration, and time and time again she found herself outside the vortex with no understanding of how she had returned.


    This isn¡¯t working. I need to follow something, trace my emotions about something or someone.


    She ran through a list in her mind, Eskallia, Doctor Quimea, her encounter with Mooster, all the things that had impacted her so strongly. Then she discarded that list because it came too easily, her intuition telling her she would only see what she expected, that her soul vortex could be a mirror just as easily as a microscope.


    To think the thought I cannot think,


    the written word that has no ink,


    I cast my gaze behind my head,


    and find I meet my eyes instead.


    Where did that come from? Why did that verse pop into my head?


    But she knew, or suspected, why.


    Consciousness is a narrative, but poetry is where the narrative and the unknowable meet. The place where the unconscious has its say. That¡¯s where I need to look.


    She slowed her mind to its pre-system state and took a deep breath, using her system to slow the restless waves of her organic brain, opening and falling into a state of theta wave meditation. Her thoughts rose and fell, pulsed and faded with each gentle stroke, and she opened her mind, released the relentless narrative of cause and effect. She diffused and expanded, allowed herself to evaporate from flask to open air, integrating her Stage Two processing with the process of unfurling the folds of her narrative.


    After timeless time had passed, she allowed her story to resume, unhindered by constraints. In the glow of her reawakening she could see how a gradual force of compression, recursive thoughts of control and fear, had come to dominate her narrative. Two words surfaced.


    Mud pies.


    Now she knew where to look, where she might find the kind of traction within her feelings to begin to understand the corrupting influence of her experience. Not in her traumas, or the untold machinations she had modeled from her encounters with her adversaries. No, the way to understand the corruption was to follow what had become of her feelings towards Attaboy, the layers of armor she had created in the guise of caution, the manner in which her self-protection had become confinement, compressing and reducing her. Or even in her relationship with Anda, how she had begun to find reasons to keep him at arm¡¯s length.


    She thought again of Eskallia, the way vengeance had reduced and channeled the Head of School¡¯s thoughts, no matter how vast her mind had become.


    That¡¯s what corruption looks like, she realized. It can take many subtle forms and it grows and feeds from the experiences we don¡¯t understand.


    With a thought she returned to the vortex of her soul, and now she could see it, the absence of meaning that permeated and intertwined within her being, pressing, reducing, severing and eroding, its consequences growing in step with her intelligence. It squirmed and twisted under her perception, or rather the act of perceiving it caused it to slip and twist, to escape her apprehension.


    Oh boy.


    Her Inside and Outside bodies slumped in their respective seats, as she felt the weight of the task ahead of her. But even as she realized what had been happening within herself, she could see that the corruption was fading in places, that already the simple act of observation had changed the dynamic of her mind, and she realized that her soul vortex was not a record of her past, but a conversation with her understanding in the present.


    A new light was forming, not quite the white diamond of her currently chosen path, but something more like the first time she had seen the sun, the real sun, the memory of the sun on the Inside. It had a familiar golden tinge, and she realized it represented a feeling that had become all too rare in her world view. A feeling that, applied in just the right amount, was a powerful healing force.


    Hope.

 Book 3: Chapter 6: Interludium

    ¡°Congratulations!¡± said the voice in her head. ¡°50 floors swept in under 12 hours. You have earned a contribution point. Sinaloa is Strength!¡±


    Maria wiped sweat from her forehead with her elbow, thankful once again that the masters had given her light duties while she recovered from her time in the dream world. Her arms and legs were still weak and thin, and her palms burned from the rough wooden broomstick, calluses softened by her time in the sleeping chamber. She felt a little guilty, as her sisters followed her on their knees, dragging a basin of now filthy water from the rags they used to polish the recently swept floors of the Governor¡¯s residence.


    The only downside was that her solitary contribution point would secure no more than a single meal, meaning she would once again need to impose on her family, if she wanted to eat the following morning. Which she very much did.


    Why, oh why was I pulled from the dream world? she bemoaned for the hundredth time. I could have secured dozens of points had I been allowed to stay.


    Naturally, no one would explain the waves that rocked those such as her. She could only imagine that it had something to do with the Alux. She could still see the little person of the forest vividly in her imagination, though the specifics of the conversation with the magical being were fuzzy at best.


    ¡°You must never tell another soul!¡± her mother had hissed when Maria shared her tale in the first hours after her wakening. ¡°The little people hold their secrets dear.¡±


    Unspoken was the far greater danger of gaining the attention of the masters. For a young woman of Maria¡¯s status, the only defense was dirt on the face and ashes in the hair, perhaps some rotting leaves hidden within her simple robes to enhance her unwashed odors. But even those measures might not suffice should she become an object of curiosity rather than contempt.


    Maria watched as her sisters finished the final floor, shepherding the exhausted resources of her depleted body. From time to time she wielded the broom to catch one last piece of imaginary dirt, wary of being seen as idle, should one of the invisible watchers happen upon the scene. Though her family had cleaned the Governor¡¯s residence since she was little, their eyes were unworthy of the sight of even the lowest of the Governor¡¯s staff, but that did not mean that their labors weren¡¯t overseen. Each of them had received beatings from invisible hands over the years, often not knowing why. Or objects and furniture in the very room they were cleaning would vanish and move.


    It was simply the nature of the world, that those of low status, the grovelers in the dirt, had eyes unworthy of true sight.


    Soon, she and her sisters were back home at the worker¡¯s dormitories, pulling their food bars from various hiding places within their robes and engaging in the furtive consumption that passed for dinner. It was another hour before their mother arrived at the family¡¯s assigned room, a rare half-smile upon her deep-lined face.


    ¡°Girls,¡± she announced. ¡°The Voice of Heaven told me the Governor¡¯s home will be closed to us in the morning. You may do as you like before midday.¡±


    An entire morning!


    ¡°Don¡¯t stray far in case other work is assigned!¡± her mother continued. ¡°And don¡¯t...¡±


    Maria tuned out the string of rules and cautions that would inevitably fall from Mama¡¯s lips. Luisa, her youngest sister, leaned over and whispered in her ear.


    ¡°I have something to show you.¡± Her voice was tinged with mischief.


    Maria touched her hand. ¡°Shh,¡± she whispered back. ¡°Mama''s talking. Later.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you in the morning,¡± Luisa replied, ignoring their mother¡¯s chastising look in her direction.


    Later, when the girls were free to talk, in the minutes before the silent period, Maria attempted to pry the secret from her sister, but Luisa would only shake her head and smile. ¡°Tomorrow,¡± she said.


    The next day, the two sisters walked through the hemp fields, threading their way through rows of plants as tall as they were. The air was full of the plant¡¯s musky scent.


    ¡°Luisa, where are you taking me? We¡¯re getting too far, and you know it¡¯s not safe out in the fields when no one can see us.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so stiff, Maria. You¡¯re the only fun one left.¡±


    That¡¯s because the others have all gained some common sense, Maria thought. Or had it beaten into them. I wonder what¡¯s wrong with me?


    Ever since her return from the dream world, Maria¡¯s thoughts kept circling back to the visit from the Alux, the dream within the dream. She couldn¡¯t remember much from the conversation, only a sense of calm, an optimistic serenity that still resonated within her chest, the sense that she had been blessed in some way by the forest spirit. Since that visit, she had found herself wondering if there was more to the world, if her life might expand past faithful service to the Masters.


    Naturally, she had tried her best to push those dangerous notions away, to remain small and humble, to accept her role of utter servitude with grace. But the idea was stubborn, and in the moments when her hands were occupied with work and her thoughts free to wander, she had sometimes allowed the dangerous thought to surface that perhaps, just possibly, she, Maria Mendez, was special in some way.


    ¡°Almost there!¡± Luisa said, her voice hushed but excited.


    Maria looked ahead, to see that they had come to a place in the field where the stones from all around had been piled together, a pile of rocks where a few stubborn trees had found a place to grow. She wondered for a moment how Luisa had managed to find something out here, so far from home, but put the thought away. Her youngest sister had always been free and foolish, and shared Maria¡¯s penchant for wandering the lands around their home, searching for edible plants and flowers. She couldn¡¯t chastise her, for after all, this was the very behavior that had been responsible for her own assignment to the dream world.


    They walked slowly now, Luisa pulling Maria¡¯s hand. ¡°There,¡± she said, pointing to something beneath one of the trees. ¡°Do you see him?¡±


    Maria tried to make out what Luisa was pointing towards. The sky was thinner than usual, allowing the light from the rising sun to cast faint shadows, and the area under the tree was dark. She could make out a lump of green, and at first she thought someone had piled leaves beneath the tree. But then a part of the green stirred, and she realized it was a human figure, a man.


    ¡°Do you see?¡± Luisa asked, barely able to contain herself. ¡°Do you see him?¡±


    The green man stood, his back to them, and Maria pulled her sister down, out of sight among the hemp.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± she hissed. Her heart pounded and her mind was spinning though. This man, this green man with spindly arms and legs, was much taller than the forest spirit she had encountered in the dream world, but Maria knew, she just knew, that the two events must be connected. To be visited once in a world of dreams, that could be a chance encounter, but now, to see another being of the forest near her own home¡­


    What could it mean? Are the forest spirits returning?


    Maria squeezed Luisa¡¯s hands and stifled an entirely inappropriate giggle. Something new, something special was happening, and she was a part of it somehow.


    ***


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    I¡¯ve got to find some food, thought Mo.


    He looked over the fields around him, briefly wondering where he was. The past weeks had been a relentless blur of fields and wastelands, of fevers, seizures and delusions. Mornings were almost okay, these days, but he knew that by early afternoon the tremors would return, and not long after that the hallucinations.


    He watched an eel moving between the rocks and corrected himself. The bad hallucinations. It¡¯s a good thing I had some meat on my bones when this all started, he thought, looking down at himself in disgust. He still wasn¡¯t entirely sure if his skin color was some kind of strange long-term hallucination or something else, some residue of his malfunctioning system. A vague memory that liver failure turned your skin some color or other had him holding out hope it wasn¡¯t real.


    One thing that he knew was no illusion was the feeling that large pieces of his mind were missing. Back when he had realized his system was utterly unresponsive, he had cried like a baby, before remembering that he had done the same thing the day before, and the day before. In fact, he had absolutely no sense of how long his memory had been on the fritz, or how much time had passed. A somewhat healed knife wound in his shoulder was his best indicator, assuming the injury was connected to his current state.


    He wished he could remember why all this had happened to him. All he had to go on were vague memories, a fight, piloting a hovercar too fast over festering waters, feeling like he would lose control and go flipping end over end, fear that he would sink and drown. Fear of what would be done to him if he was caught. Basically, memories with a lot of fear. Then there was something about Anda, and that little gob girl, but he pretty sure that part was another hallucination.


    Man, what the hell was I thinking? How did I get myself in this situation?


    He still found himself reaching for his system to boost his mood, or to look something up, hell, even to check the time. The only thing he didn¡¯t miss was his old augsight mods, mostly because they had become a particularly vivid part of his hallucinations. In the mornings, it was mostly the sense of being underwater, a gentle ripple in the air, seeing the occasional sea creature out of the corner of his eye. Later in the day, the Mayan deities came out to play. Previously, he had been unaware it was possible to hallucinate pain. Now he knew better.


    Still, there were moments of clarity, moments where he almost felt¡­ himself? If that self was one from years ago, when he had still been living at the dojo, before he had been, fairly he would be the first to admit, kicked out on his ass. The years since then were now a rolling blur, somehow gaining less clarity as they approached the present.


    He heard a giggle from the field behind him.


    That¡¯s a new one. Giggling pot plants. Can¡¯t believe people used to smoke this stuff, it stinks.


    His stomach rumbled, and he briefly wondered if the plants might be edible. He hadn¡¯t planned on ending up in the middle of a cultivated field. In fact, he was trying to stay away from other people as much as he could. Without a functioning system, his reflexes were sluggish, his senses poor, he would be the victim in any encounter. In his half-starved state, he doubted he could hold off an angry gob.


    The problem was, everything grown in the fields he had skirted for days on end had been raw biomass, plants chosen for their speed of growth and general hardiness, rather than edibility. They would all be gathered up in time and converted into food bars and the like, but that didn¡¯t help him any. He knew the time would come soon when he would be forced to risk stealing food.


    Actually, he decided, that time seemed to be just about now.


    ***


    What is it now? Nykka wondered.


    ¡°This one begs your pardon, Mistress. The Doctor would see you.¡±


    You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. He couldn¡¯t send a message? And why do they have to train these poor schlubs to talk like this?¡±


    Of course, the Doctor hardly ever used his system for messages, and he insisted she use hers as little as possible for that purpose as well. He had never explicitly stated the reasoning behind the behavior but Nykka understood it to be a piece of his general attitude toward system security.


    She made her way down the stairs to his office. Or was it a laboratory? Some mixture of the two she supposed. It was a tenth the size of his primary lab up north, but the Doctor spent more time in various other labs located around Sinaloa¡¯s holdings, preferring to be isolated from clan politics. His position within Sinaloa was absolute and unassailable, but he preferred to leave it to other hands to dirty themselves with earthly power, only intervening when he felt his research was threatened.


    ¡°Nykka, I have a task for you,¡± he said, his customary greeting. She remained silent, her customary response. ¡°There have been reports of an anomalous individual within clan territory just to the north, in the agricultural area southeast of Pasto.¡±


    Oh crap. Is Attaboy wandering around?


    ¡°Naturally, the boy comes to mind, though the word of mouth indicates someone of larger stature. Go and retrieve this person. If you cannot, bring back a witness.¡±


    Nykka gave thanks that she was the one given the mission. That it was assigned to her was no surprise, as many of the high-ranked security personnel were still showing symptoms of mental influence from the Averdale debacle and unavailable for such a duty.


    ¡°The reports indicate that the individual possesses some kind of active or passive camouflage,¡± the Doctor continued. ¡°If you suspect that they are an advanced operative from another clan, withdraw immediately and send word to me. That is all.¡±


    She nodded. If this is Attaboy, I¡¯m going to kill him. On the Inside anyway.


    It was entirely likely she would find Attaboy on the Inside before she found him Outside, especially if he had left the caves. Her current Inside mission was to draw on her connections at the Academy and gather intelligence about the girl and what exactly had occurred in Averdale. She decided a brief visit to the Academy to rule Attaboy out or in as the ¡®anomalous individual¡¯ should be her first step.


    ***


    For the second time in a week, Attaboy was summoned to Mumo¡¯s room.


    ¡°You better still be in that cave!¡± was the first thing he heard, before he had even cleared the doorway.


    ¡°Oh. Hi Nykka,¡± he replied.


    She seems so much smaller now, he thought. He glanced over at Mumo, who was watching the interaction with a faint smile.


    ¡°Still in the cave. Loving the cave,¡± he continued hastily, after turning back to Nykka and seeing her expression. It was strange to see the two of them together, Mumo and Nykka, two utterly pale beings with white eyes, though Nykka¡¯s red leather outfit highlighted her coloring further than Mumo¡¯s simple white robe.


    She looked at him closely for any sign of deception, then sighed in relief. ¡°Food holding out okay?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Still got a couple weeks left. I want to leave soon though.¡±


    She glared at him. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it. The Doctor¡¯s got eyes everywhere. I¡¯m about to chase down some phantom, just because there was the merest hint that some stranger was seen moving around the fields just a few miles from where you are.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you were so worried? Not because you would miss me?¡± He almost winked at her, catching himself as he remembered that flirting would just be weird at his current physical age. He had to admit that a big reason for the changes to his Inside appearance were so that he might, someday, have the kind of love life he remembered from his days as Atticus.


    It¡¯s just lucky I¡¯m in a position to do that. As far as he could tell, nearly everyone else was forced to mirror their Outside appearance, other than hair and other cosmetic changes. Except for Lilijoy¡¯s weird orc friend. He had no idea what that was all about.


    Nykka gave him a strange look. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to talk to you about.¡± She looked around Mumo¡¯s room. ¡°This isn¡¯t the place though. Care to take a walk?¡±


    After saying goodbye to Mumo, they walked out the front door of the Academy and down the wide path leading to Academy town. The cobblestone path wound down the gentle hill, and Attaboy could see many dirt paths formed by the feet of impatient students seeking a more direct route than its lazy curves provided. The sun felt hot on his dark hair, a sensation he was still getting used to, as on the Outside there was neither direct sunlight, nor did he have hair to speak of.


    Nykka walked beside him, and he was careful to keep his strides slow so she wouldn¡¯t be forced to hurry her step, an inconvenience he appreciated all too well.


    ¡°So,¡± she started. Several seconds of silence followed. ¡°So, I need to ask you something. About your system.¡±


    Aw, I was hoping she was going to confess her feelings. He chuckled, as that was about as likely as¡­ well, he couldn¡¯t think of anything less likely. But still¡­


    She mistook his chuckle for skepticism.


    ¡°I know, I know. You just got out of that situation. Believe me, I wouldn¡¯t be asking if it wasn¡¯t important. I...¡± she tailed off, and Attaboy could sense she was struggling to find the right words. ¡°I¡¯m kind of screwed at the moment.¡±


    Guess she decided to go blunt. No surprise there.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t obey the Doctor, he can¡­ allow my system to die, I guess is the easiest way to explain it.¡±


    Attaboy took in the implications. Yeah, she is screwed. No wonder she pretends to be his most loyal servant. She took a huge risk helping me.


    The Atticus part of him, to the extent that any such thing existed anymore, supplied the other half of the equation. She wouldn¡¯t take that risk unless she hoped for an equally great reward.


    ¡°And?¡± he said, feeling a little disappointed she hadn¡¯t helped him out of some kind of intrinsic goodness.


    She stopped. After another step he stopped too and turned to face her. ¡°Can you help?¡± she asked.


    He studied her face. In the light of the sun, her white skin almost glowed, and in the back of his mind he wondered if she had to worry about sunburn on the Inside. There were no external signs of her emotions, no quivering lip or furrowed brow. But somehow he could tell that she was frightened, terrified to be asking this, perhaps fearful of the vulnerability she was displaying.


    ¡°No,¡± he replied. He watched her face harden, saw her begin to summon words, but before she could answer his denial, he finished the thought.


    ¡°But I know someone who can.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 7: Traverse

    ¡°Did you see that kid in the fifth cohort tourney?¡± said one muffled voice.


    ¡°You know I¡¯m not at the Academy. Stop finding reasons to rub it in.¡± said another.


    Magpie could feel the gentle rolling motion of her conveyance stop.


    ¡°Sorry, I forgot. Some gob kid chewed them up and spat them out. I¡¯ve never seen anything quite like it.¡±


    Are they talking about Lily? she wondered. I thought she wasn¡¯t going to do the tournament. Wait, fifth cohort? Must be some other¡­ someone else.


    ¡°Okay? I really like it when you tell me about the lower orders who made it into the Academy when I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it won¡¯t matter in a few years.¡±


    ¡°Riiight. You ready?¡±


    ¡°Yes. On three.¡±


    The voices counted down, and she felt herself rise, and then drop with a jarring impact.


    ¡°Damn thing seemed heavier.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead and keep telling yourself that. If you broke it, you can explain to the boss.¡±


    Magpie readied the tant¨­ she had purchased, waiting for the lid of the pod she was hiding in to fly up.


    Why did I think this was a good idea again?


    She had been thinking a lot over the past twelve hours. Thinking about what a bad idea it was to make plans that gave you too much time to think about all the flaws in the plan you made after it was too late to change them. She dimly remembered someone, probably Raven since she had blocked it out, telling her that falling in love with a plan was the worst mistake of all. In hindsight, that was exactly what had happened.


    It had just seemed so elegant, and the initial stages had unfolded so smoothly, as if destiny was on her side. It had all started with a simple question. How do they service their pods?


    She knew that there must be thousands of pods in use inside Kuroudonain, and she had suspected that some portion of them would be repaired or replaced at each stop. Following that thought, it had been simple to discover that there was a facility for exactly that, located in one of the docking ports. From there, it had been one obvious, almost inevitable step after another to exploit the system.


    Only after she had closed herself within the pod due to be brought on board had she begun to have second thoughts.


    What if they have one last inspection? What if they weigh them?


    The ¡®what ifs¡¯ had been dominating her thoughts for hours now, along with the realization that she had broken a fundamental precept by trapping herself with no escape route.


    The voices receded, and Magpie heard the sound of a door closing. She allowed a minute to pass before easing open the lid of the pod, her heart pounding. Was she in someone¡¯s private quarters? A communal center of some kind?


    As it turned out, she was in a room full of inert pods, a storage area. Barely translucent walls, floor and ceiling allowed just enough light through for her to see.


    Now what?


    ***


    Breathing is an interesting thing, thought Lilijoy. It¡¯s the one place where conscious will and biological imperative are perfect equals. The bridge to the unconscious. Until the oxygen runs out anyway.


    She sat on top of the hovercar in a lotus position, her trip to the spaceport on hold for the moment, her journey through Eskalia¡¯s memories postponed. Instead she meditated, on the Outside, where she could focus inward more easily, without the distractions provided by fields of glowing mana.


    She focused on her breathing. Every meditation tradition had its own thoughts on the subject, though it was more central to some. It had intrigued her to learn about some of the more intricate breathing patterns and practices, and she had spent some time contemplating why a person might come to believe that breathing a particular way would impact their internal energies. As with virtually every subject involving humans, there was a great variety of opinion and argument spread out over the centuries, and she had come to conclude that one¡¯s faith in the efficacy of a particular technique played a far greater role than the actual specifics of the technique.


    She thought back to her own revelations regarding the power of specificity, how using it as an end unto itself had helped her discover how to perform Qi strikes. It was not a question of true or false, real or fake, but rather a tool for discernment. In the case of breathing techniques it seemed to serve a related function, allowing the conscious mind to expand into the unconscious by inhabiting the selvage where the two met. Specificity harnessed will and faith together, created a self-fulfilling prophecy that led to the technique¡¯s success. Perhaps that had even been in play for her, that the tool not only discerned but created its own reality.


    Initially, she had discarded breathing techniques as something redundant to the powers of her system. What was the point of controlling the breath when she could interface with all the systems of her body, when her thoughts could flow to speeds that rendered the change of breath rare? But her experience in the Library had given her an insight. She neglected the original language of her biology at her peril, that shutting it down, closing it away, led to the growth of corruption in her soul vortex.


    Henry Choi had his biology forcefully removed, to a large extent anyway, and she could only imagine that his current state must relate to that. Eskallia was another matter entirely. Lilijoy had no idea how the ¡®biology¡¯ of the subsets related to their minds, how Guardian chose to thread that particular needle. But from Eskallia she had come to understand that power and intelligence were no defense against the type of corruption she had discovered within herself, to understand how corruption and the growth of intelligence could feed from one another.


    The more you know, the less you know, she thought. It¡¯s not that, but it¡¯s like that. Maybe the larger your mind, the more places there are to hide?


    It was a slippery subject to be sure. But these thoughts had brought her to where she was now, breathing, feeling, attempting to deepen the connection between her narrative consciousness and the engine that powered it, trying to strengthen the bonds with her deeper self, and so she turned to breath, trying to understand what happened in the moment of each change, to see the difference between her conscious will and her body¡¯s decisions.


    She stayed there for several hours doing nothing, doing everything. At last, she felt it was time to stop, and she realized that was a kind of breath too, that the very decision to end her practice was like a change of breath that flowed up from the deeper totality of her mind, that each activity, each impulse within the day was like that, some welling up, others imposed by her conscious narrative''s interaction with the external world, and she came away from her practice having learned that to truly understand the decision to change her breath was to understand all the decisions she might make.


    She was tempted to look within her soul vortex, to see what impact her meditations had provided, but the decision not to welled up, along with the feeling that to do so was a kind of greed, a neediness that would only be enforced by the act. Patience, she decided, was also like breathing. It was a place where emotion and action met as equals. Instead, she checked to see if Anda, or anyone else had tried to contact her over the past hours.


    He had.


    <hr>


    Hey Lilijoy. Sepehr told me you were headed out to the old spaceport. Hope you find what you¡¯re looking for! I just wanted to let you know that I¡¯m taking the Fogies on a field trip later today, thought you might want to join us.


    <hr>


    The Fogies was the self-adopted name of the group of crafters from Academy Town that Anda was training. Lilijoy was a bit jealous of his role, though she knew there was no way she would have the time to do what he was doing. She assumed that by ¡®field trip¡¯ he meant some kind of expedition that would involve danger and excitement, as that had turned out to be a valuable source of experience for the crafters, who were seeking to level up as quickly as they could before the clans caught on to their potential insurgency.


    She sent back her reply.


    <hr>


    I might try to join you, if you haven¡¯t already left. Or I could try to catch up. Where are you headed?


    <hr>


    His answer came immediately.


    <hr>


    Already there, haven¡¯t gone in yet. Everyone¡¯s a bit nervous.


    We¡¯re at Wirry Woods, a few miles south of Academy Town, just follow the south road.


    <hr>


    Lilijoy knew that the Wirry Woods was a popular destination for experience term, but not much more than that. There were many other things she should be doing; training, going back to the library, going to some class or another.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    No more ¡®shoulds¡¯, she decided. Should is a corrupt word, a word that divides and represses. A word of shame.


    Now that she thought of it, she wondered just how much of her joyful anticipation had disappeared down ''should¡¯s'' gaping maw. She knew it wasn¡¯t the primary source of corruption; it was more henchman than nemesis. Her true enemy was fear, arriving in the guise of concerned advisor, offering words of caution that bound and paralyzed.


    Like Gr¨ªma Wormtongue. I haven¡¯t thought about those books for a while now. My own internal ''counselor'' that warns me of betrayal, that says there is no such thing as a pleasant surprise. Always so rational, hiding its true nature.


    In another moment, she was Inside, running to the Wirry Woods. She stayed Outside as well and resumed her trip to the spaceport. The sensation of being in two places felt surprisingly good, rather like listening to two independent voices in a song might have felt when she first discovered music. Nowadays, the only music that created that sensation for her were the most complicated works by Bach and Charles Ives. There were other, even more mathematically complicated works from the mid-twentieth century, but she found them so unpleasant in every other regard that the charms of their architecture were lost on her.


    She arrived at both her destinations at very nearly the same time, and at that point she widened the separation of her mind a bit more and spun up a second narrative. Running and riding in the hovercar was one thing, but she felt that talking and exploring new environments might be a step too far for this new approach.


    ***


    It was soon very clear why Sepehr hadn¡¯t been worried about Lilijoy stumbling on anything Tesla Clan related at the old spaceport. The air was thick with a chemical cocktail of ruptured fuel tanks and the ground covered with sooty scraps of metal. Here and there, she could see wiry cylindrical frameworks of what had once been fuel tanks or rockets, and the foundations and rubble of what had once been buildings. She was only on the outskirts of what had once been one of the largest global centers for launching to orbit, but already she suspected her trip was a waste.


    There aren¡¯t even going to be animals here, she realized. She had, perhaps naively, assumed that most of the chemicals associated with spaceflight would have long since dissipated, liquid oxygen and various hydrogen compounds being fairly volatile, but her system readings of chemicals very unfriendly to carbon-based life were high enough that even she felt a bit uncomfortable about venturing further.


    On the plus side, it meant that on the off chance there was anything to find after all this time, it might still be undisturbed. She couldn¡¯t imagine anyone bothering to waste med bugs to explore the place, nor could she imagine any clan members donning protective gear, just to explore what appeared to be a scene of utter destruction.


    I might owe Sepehr an apology, she realized. He wasn¡¯t being condescending. If anything he trusted that I would have enough common sense to leave as soon as I got here.


    She stepped into the wreckage.


    Then she turned and sent all her midges back to the hovercar. The winds were mild, but she didn¡¯t want them to be poisoned. While they each had self repair abilities, necessary to keep them from dying like, well, flies, she didn¡¯t want to test them against the toxins, especially if they became more concentrated farther in.


    She walked for several minutes, marveling at the extent of the destruction. The ground was flat, its surface so strewn with bits of cement and metal that she had to step carefully to avoid damaging her feet. There were no craters or other signs of bombardment, but clearly there had been multiple waves of destruction over the years. Some fragments were emitting chemicals, even after all this time, and when she examined them, she thought they might be the remnants of the nano-foam solid rocket boosters that had been heavily used in the decades before the tribulation. She could almost imagine the destructive chain reaction that must have swept through the facility.


    Why on earth would anyone steer me to come here? There¡¯s nothing. Less than nothing.


    She scanned in every direction, wishing there was an ability to telescope with her eyes on the Outside.


    Stupid physics. There. Is that something?


    The facility had covered several square miles in its heyday, and according to the satellite images from one hundred and sixty years ago, there might have once been several large buildings where she was currently looking. Whatever was there now, it certainly wasn¡¯t rectangular or even roughly building-like, at least not anymore.


    Whee! I get to hike a mile across an actively toxic wasteland to a big pile of rubble!


    ***


    On the Inside, everything was much more pleasing. The Wirry Woods were thick with fallen trees strewn with yellow and orange shelf fungus and lit by rays of sun, shaded but not dark. Saplings, shrubs and ivy covered the forest floor in lush shades of green over brown leaves and white toadstools.


    This is so much nicer than Averdale, she thought.


    The Fogeys and Anda had only just entered the edge of the forest when Lilijoy arrived. After a hearty greeting from Mr. Sennit, and introductions to those she hadn¡¯t met, the little group pushed the rest of the way through the outermost layer of the forest, thick shrubs with only the occasional thorn bush. Lilijoy was happy to see that the old folks had equipped themselves well, each contributing their own crafting skills to outfit the group.


    She was particularly interested to see them sporting leather caps, courtesy of Mr. August, who was working as an assistant to the local tanner. Leather working was one of the crafts she wanted to try her hand at, and she resolved to talk to him when she got the chance. They also had some potions on their belts, and an assortment of wooden weapons.


    ¡°What are we likely to run into?¡± she whispered to Anda when they stopped at a small clearing. He had been covering the rear of the group while she scouted ahead.


    ¡°Wirries. Nasty spirits that possess animals, sometimes livestock. Not much tougher than whatever they¡¯re in. Usually. I figured we¡¯d take it slow today, get the group used to the woods, so if we don¡¯t find any, I¡¯d be just as happy.¡±


    That made sense to Lilijoy. It also didn¡¯t sound quite as exciting as she had hoped.


    ¡°Do you mind if I scout around a bit?¡± she asked. ¡°If I find one, I can soften it up and try to pull it back to the group.¡±


    Anda nodded. ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯ll message you if there¡¯s any excitement while you¡¯re gone.¡±


    She left it to Anda to explain the plan to the rest of them, and headed off into the woods. Being by herself among the entirely normal-sized trees reminded her of her first forest experience in the Trial. She took a moment to savor the solitude, to enjoy the smells and the faint sounds of creaking trunks and rustling branches. She could feel her Outside self struggling across the toxic plain and mentally renewed her vow to bring forests back to the real world.


    If it is real.


    Rule Two had been popping into her head off and on since she had read it. It bothered her that she couldn¡¯t understand it, for that implied her basic understanding of how the rules worked was somehow incomplete. When she had first learned of them, Anda had told her that ¡®The Rules¡¯ were thought to be a subset of some kind, that each person would see only what they could understand, a version tailored specifically for them.


    ¡®A complex multi-dimensional, self-referring holographic information topology¡¯ were the exact words he had used a bit later. Experiencing the golden glyph Eskallia had used to awaken the Greatwood had given her further insight and helped her to understand that the Rules might possess a similar structure.


    Spinning within her, her soul vortex seemed to be something related to the awakening glyph and the Rules, though she had no basis to judge if it was a superficial resemblance or a more profound connection. Her best guess was that the Rules were specially built to be intelligible, or more than that, to communicate. Maybe the notion that they were a subset with their own form of intelligence was correct, though Lilijoy suspected it was more that they somehow borrowed, or reflected the intelligence of the viewer.


    Which begs the question. Why can¡¯t I understand Rule Two? By definition, it should be intelligible to me, and yet¡­


    There was another possibility that had occurred to her. Just because she was theoretically able to understand didn¡¯t mean that she was willing to. It could be that her own thoughts were somehow interfering with the process, corrupting it.


    Given externally set, relatively deterministic probability distribution fields and the unknown degree of repository detachment, she repeated to herself. Relatively deterministic to what? Whatever probability distribution fields we¡¯re talking about here, they are more deterministic, more constrained than something else. And they¡¯re externally set.


    She mulled it over as she walked along fallen trunks, weaving through the sharp stubs of dead branches. Was the answer, the implication, something she didn¡¯t want to face? It could be the opposite of joyful anticipation, fearful dread. Perhaps as she walked her path that would be her one weakness, like kryptonite for Superman.


    She jumped over a place where two trunks crossed. It seemed as if there were more and more fallen trees. More than she would expect.


    Perhaps there was a high wind a few years ago?


    She scanned the live trees around her for signs of disease, and saw that many were missing patches of bark here and there. Something was damaging the trees, killing some of them. She had a feeling she knew what it might be, and where she might find a Wirry.


    ¡°Hey!¡± she called, abandoning her stealth. She pulled her sling out of her inventory, along with a handful of round rocks. The woods were silent for a moment more, and then she heard it, the angry chattering from the tops of the trees around her.


    I guess it¡¯s time to see what a possessed squirrel on the Inside looks like, she thought.


    ***


    Trudging across the blighted remains of the spaceport, Lilijoy chuckled.


    Possessed squirrels. Nice to face an underpowered enemy for once.


    She had almost reached the rather large pile of rubble that was all that remained of several sizable buildings.


    I don¡¯t even know what am I looking for, she thought, as she felt her other self try and fail to hit a very oversize squirrel with her sling. Other than being close to three feet in length, it appeared entirely normal. She could feel that her other self was a bit disappointed that it didn¡¯t have glowing red eyes, or some other sign of being a wirry-squirrel, and she couldn¡¯t help but agree.


    She pushed aside the temptation to pay more attention to the squirrel battle and approached the pile of broken concrete and rusted metal. She walked alongside it for a while, until she had traced the entire perimeter. There was no sign of any opening or preserved space, nothing to explore that she could see. Meanwhile her Inside self felt exhilarated, as she had finally hit one of the three squirrels she was kiting, somehow finding the space and time to bring her sling up to speed while acrobatically dodging and running from one fallen tree to another.


    Oh, I see. She figured out how to use her magi skill to fling the stone with only one twirl. Maybe this whole sling deal isn¡¯t as useless as I thought.


    The rubble in front of her provoked somewhat less exhilaration. Nonetheless, she decided she might as well climb it. She didn¡¯t want to go home feeling like she might have missed something, or worse, actually miss something. It was neither hazardous or difficult to make her way over the shattered slabs and twisted beams. The materials had weathered and settled for decades, and while they shifted underfoot once or twice, she never even had to catch her balance. Soon, she was queen of the mountain.


    And what a view! Who would have thought-


    Her sarcastic inner voice was interrupted. There was something¡­ not exactly a signal, but a presence, an emission, that her system recognized.


    <hr>


    Tao System network field detected


    Connect?


    Yes No


    <hr>

 Book 3: Chapter 8: Answers

    Tao System network field detected


    Connect?


    Yes No


    <hr>


    Lilijoy took a deep breath, then selected ¡®yes¡¯. A new message appeared.


    <hr>


    Virtual instance created


    Enter?


    Yes No


    <hr>


    In for a penny¡­


    She selected ¡®yes¡¯ again.


    A stream of visual sensory data trickled into her system, slowly at first, creating¡­ darkness.


    Well, that¡¯s a little disappointing.


    She was floating in a void, entirely empty. Then signals began to reach her auditory processors.


    ¡°Hold on¡­ one second. Not working with much here. There!¡±


    The voice was that of a woman, familiar in some ways. Just as Lilijoy matched the vocal pattern to her memory, a pointillistic blur of colors and forms began to enter her vision, assembling bit by bit into a speckled purple floor and circular columns. The environment around her stubbornly refused to come into focus, staying as a subtly shifting composite of overlapping blocks, so it took her a moment to realize that she was standing near the center of an enormous flower. Leaning against the base of the stamens was a woman in her thirties, with flowing dark hair and mildly Asian features. Her face, unlike her body and the surroundings, was fully resolved, and Lilijoy recognized it immediately.


    ¡°Greetings, Initiate,¡± said Emily Choi.


    Lilijoy felt her world tilt, the furniture of her mind sliding into new configurations on the deck of a wave-tossed ship.


    Wow.


    Feelings of incredulity fought a sense of inevitability to a draw within her mind. I¡­ can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t see this coming, and I never would have expected it in a million years.


    Emily smiled. ¡°You look surprised, so I¡¯m guessing I¡¯m not in a museum or something. How can I help you?¡±


    Seeing Emily as a woman was seeing the past and future meet in a way that made no sense to parts of Lilijoy¡¯s mind. She shook her head to clear it.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive?¡± was all she could come up with. It seemed as if the system hosting her was matching her thought speed, so she didn¡¯t have her usual cushion of time to formulate a response.


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Emily replied. ¡°I¡¯m, I mean what you are seeing is something like a recording. An impression maybe. Just a fragment I left behind on the off chance someone like you might come along. A message and a memorial for future generations at an important historical site.¡±


    A message and a memorial. A thrill of excitement ran across her body. I¡¯m finally going to get some answers! She could feel it, the feeling that had become all to subdued of late.


    ¡°What¡¯s the message?¡± she asked.


    ¡°To be honest, I didn¡¯t really think all that specifically. I just figured that if anyone came by and accessed the network I could wing it. Why don¡¯t you ask me something, and we¡¯ll take it from there.¡±


    A million possible inquiries fought and jostled on their way to Lilijoy¡¯s mouth. Easy there, she told herself, one at a time. Start simple.


    ¡°What year are you from?¡±


    ¡°2114, so about one hundred and twenty years ago. Seems kind of long to me. I¡¯d hoped humanity would have its act together and found me way sooner than that.¡±


    ¡°What happened with the Tao system? How did you live? What was it like?¡± Her questions overruled her restraints and stumbled out one after another.


    Emily pursed her lips. ¡°Yeah, so¡­ there¡¯s a lot. Ummm, and you should know that I don¡¯t remember everything. I remember not wanting to leave anything too sensitive just lying around, not knowing the future and all. That and the fact that there just wasn¡¯t a whole lot of room in here for useless memories. Also, a lot of the sad stuff got left out. I remember wanting the fragment, me that is, not to have too much baggage. That¡¯s probably why I seem to feel pretty good about all of this. Well, that and the fact that I, I mean she¡­ well the old me, made me so that I would be happy, pretty much no matter what.¡±


    Emily seemed chipper, almost childlike as she spoke, not like a middle-aged woman.


    I guess that¡¯s what I would do, if I ever left behind a part of myself, Lilijoy thought. Give it just enough self awareness to interact and eternal happiness.


    She didn¡¯t think she would ever do that though, consign some part of herself with at least marginal self awareness to a possible eternity of confinement. On the other hand, who knew how she might feel about such things in forty years. Emily was born in 2062, so she would have been fifty-two or so at the time she left the fragment of herself behind.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Emily continued, ¡°I should find out a bit about you, and the state of the world before I go babbling about history and whatnot. I see you are running an older version, can¡¯t imagine how that happened, but that¡¯s all I know about you, since you aren¡¯t sending me any data besides the basic avatar stuff. What¡¯s your story?¡±


    My story? How do I even begin? Lilijoy wondered. How much should I tell her?


    ¡°Oh, and keep it short,¡± Emily said in the silence that followed. ¡°I don¡¯t have a lot of room to work with here. Barely enough room to think in the moment, really. ¡°


    ¡°Well, maybe I should start with the system I¡¯m using,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°I inherited it, in a way. It¡¯s a hand-me-down, though I¡¯m still not entirely sure who put it in me.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a second. version 2.3.3.¡± She looked at Lilijoy with wide eyes. ¡°What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Lilijoy.¡± I can¡¯t wait to see what she makes of that.


    Emily mouthed the name, repeating it to herself. ¡°Seriously? No, don¡¯t answer that. What on earth have I been up to out there?¡± she asked. ¡°Don¡¯t answer that either. I named my son Atticus, you know. But I did actually consider, just for a moment, naming him Attiboy.¡±


    She placed pixelated arms on hips. ¡°So how did you come by my old system and my old nickname, Lilijoy? Are you some kind of distant descendant? I¡¯m not ready to be a great-great-great¡­ whatever-grandmother.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to enjoy being in the unfamiliar position of knowing more about her situation than Emily. ¡°It¡¯s a bit different than that. More complicated, or more confusing anyway. I still don¡¯t really know the...¡± She was going to say details, but that seemed too much of an exaggeration. ¡°¡­ whole story. Or maybe I¡¯m wrong about most of it. It seems that I might be, biologically, your sister? I kind of grew up, if you can call it that, with Gabriella and Henry Choi. Except I didn¡¯t know who they were.¡±


    It was impossible to know what she should or shouldn¡¯t say, but she thought it best to be a little careful. She kept her worries about this fragment of Emily trying to possess or otherwise influence her firmly in the back of her mind. She was more worried about somehow destabilizing the fragment by introducing the wrong information.


    ¡°Huh. I guess someone must have gotten into the exclusion zone. I wonder if it was me?¡±


    Now it was Lilijoy¡¯s turn to feel confused, though she thought she might know where this was going. ¡°Exclusion zone?¡±


    ¡°After the accident with the live testing. You know. You must?¡± The expression Emily gave her was almost pleading. ¡°I don¡¯t remember much about it, but Mom and Dad, and Atti were all there. I think I lost them? I was up north when it happened. I remember spending years trying to get in, to find out if anyone had survived.¡± She smiled. ¡°But it must have all worked out in the end, right? Mom and Dad lived at least, since you¡¯re here. And Atti?¡±


    Oh boy. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a work in progress.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She looked a little lost, and Lilijoy felt a wave of compassion for this isolated fragment of Emily.


    What would it have been like for her when this all started? She would have been just eighteen, her family gone, the world breaking apart. Somehow she made it to the middle of the Amazon, only to find she couldn¡¯t get in to the area, could never find out what had happened, who had survived.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, I guess. Trying to find answers. Maybe I can help¡­ make things even better.¡± Lilijoy realized as she was speaking that she couldn¡¯t bring herself to tell Emily just how bad things really were. There was a reason that the original Emily had stripped out many of her sad memories, and while Lilijoy didn¡¯t know enough to judge for herself, her intuition told her she shouldn¡¯t add to them.


    ¡°What can I do to help?¡± Emily said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you anything you need to know. At least until the power runs low. I¡¯m hosted in an old shard from Mom¡¯s site lab, one that didn¡¯t get sent up in time. At least, that¡¯s what I was able to piece together. There was something else here, before I put myself in, but I didn¡¯t include that memory, so I have no idea what it was.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Seeing Lilijoy¡¯s face at the mention of power running low, she quickly added, ¡°We should have plenty of time. The biggest energy hog is the data transmission, thus...¡± she gestured to the crude environment.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what I don¡¯t know,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Why don¡¯t you start at the beginning.¡±


    ***


    ¡°So there¡¯s one thing you need to understand about the end of the twenty-first century. Everyone, well everyone with half a brain, understood that it was the beginning of the end; it¡¯s not like we didn¡¯t see it coming. The world was stumbling, and the only question was how many steps it would take before it finally hit the ground. Various groups, corporations, governments and the like, were trying to save the situation in a thousand different ways, but decades of disinformation and false information had made nearly impossible for anyone to work together who didn¡¯t have a personal connection. There was no such thing as a consensus view on reality, and technology had given even smaller groups with fringe beliefs the power to effect global change.


    In a sense, Mom and Dad were just as guilty as the rest of them. They thought that the only way to save the world was to make people smarter, while simultaneously controlling the means they were using to impact the world and each other.¡±


    ¡°So Tao System and Guardian,¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°Yes. It was only a matter of time before someone made a self-replicator, accidentally or on purpose, that couldn¡¯t be stopped. We got off lucky with the Sydney event. If that had happened in Asia, the world would have burned.¡±


    ¡°That was an uncontrolled outbreak, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The Chinese nuked it, and thank god that worked. But it was only the latest in a string, though the biggest by far. I think the first one was near Alamagordo, a few years before I was born. Mom and Dad founded Tao Systems the next year. They saw the handwriting on the wall at that point, I guess. How they had the time to have me, I¡¯ll never understand. I¡¯d like to say I wouldn¡¯t have brought a child into that world, but¡­ well, I pretty much did the same thing.¡±


    ¡°And you named him Atticus.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. But I don¡¯t want to talk about that. Like I really don¡¯t.¡± She wrinkled her brow for a second. ¡°Oh well, it¡¯s probably nothing.¡± She smiled and shrugged. ¡°Where was I? Anyway, I¡¯ll give you the gritty details in a file or something. Suffice to say, everything was falling apart, but slow enough that we all dared to think we could actually pull it off, saving the world I mean. Dad discovered how to use his system to think faster, and that¡¯s when things really took off. Guardian was almost complete, most of it in orbit, the Tao system was¡­ frightening is the word that comes to mind, but no one had time to slow down and think about it that much.¡±


    ¡°They took the system I¡¯m using out of you. When did you finally get a system back?¡±


    She rolled her eyes, and Lilijoy caught a glimpse of teenage Emily. ¡°Two long years. It took them that long to get the cellular repair technologies worked in. In hindsight, it was exactly the right call, but I was not a happy camper at the time.¡± She gave Lilijoy a strange look. ¡°Why on earth are you still using it? That generation of systems was, is, I guess, pretty toxic. Who let someone your age have it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± Lilijoy replied, not knowing what else to say. ¡°But I¡¯ve figured out a few solutions on my own.¡±


    ¡°Well, just be careful with Stage Two. That¡¯s pretty rough even with the third generation. I¡¯d suggest waiting until you can upgrade to version three.¡±


    Should I tell her? Nah.


    ¡°Thanks for the advice.¡± She did her best to remove any trace of sarcasm. ¡°So how did it all go wrong?¡±


    Emily shook her head. ¡°I wish I knew. I was up in Taos, training-¡±


    ¡°The whole Tao-Taos thing...¡±


    ¡°A fortuitous pun, was what Dad called it. Anyway, I was in Taos, and I knew something important was going to happen, something big. Atti let slip that it was a live field test, that they were going to start a controlled outbreak. He assured me about a thousand times that it couldn¡¯t possibly go wrong, that they had done everything they could in controlled environments, and they needed to know that agents on the ground could resolve a replication event.¡± Her face went blank for a moment. ¡°Hold on. There¡¯s something here I never noticed before. A¡­ I guess you could call it a package. It¡¯s for you.¡±


    She held up one hand, and a black box appeared.


    Lilijoy froze. Is this another ¡®candy from strangers¡¯ moment?


    Emily saw her hesitation. ¡°There¡¯s a tag associated with it. Would you like me to read it to you?¡±


    When Lilijoy nodded, she continued, though her voice seemed rougher, older. ¡°Dear Tao System user. This message contains a few memories I did not want my fragment to access, for reasons of long term viability. I wanted someone to have them, should I die after leaving this fragment. The conditions for this message¡¯s delivery were that at least one hundred years pass and that the fragment has a positive opinion of you.¡±


    Well, at least I know she likes me.


    After delivering the little speech, Emily appeared frozen, arm outstretched with the black box.


    ¡°Hello? Emily?¡±


    There was no change to the fragment¡¯s condition.


    Aw crap. I¡¯ve got to take it if I want to keep going. There are too many things I don¡¯t know.


    She took the box, which immediately loaded into her system as a large package of data. She firewalled it off as best she could, feeling uneasy about the whole transaction.


    Emily started talking again, as if she had never stopped. ¡°Well, obviously something did go wrong. The next thing we knew, Guardian had taken over all our external computing resources. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be activated for months, maybe years. The only person who could have allowed that to happen was my mother, but she was with my father monitoring the field test. Not that she couldn¡¯t have done it from there but...¡± she tailed off.


    Lilijoy could almost feel the pieces falling together. ¡°Do you think that Guardian was activated accidentally, and perceived the test as a genuine threat?¡±


    Emily shook her head. ¡°That was my first thought too, but I just know, somehow, that that wasn¡¯t what happened. Such a strong feeling¡­ anyway, it took years, which I don¡¯t remember well, but I¡¯m sure were miserable, for me to make it down to the Amazon testing facility.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t remember why she feels that way. I guess wiping a memory still leaves a stain.


    She felt like the answer to why Emily felt Guardian wasn¡¯t responsible for the test¡¯s failure just might be in the black box. Either that, or it was lost to time.


    ¡°And when you got there?¡± she prompted.


    ¡°When I got there, I couldn¡¯t go in, couldn¡¯t get closer than a few miles. Or maybe I could, but I always found myself standing on the boundary with no memory of what I¡¯d been doing. Obviously it was a system override of some kind. So I did what anyone would do, tried a thousand different tactics over years. I went in with pencil and paper, intending to write down what I saw. I sent in other people, those with no systems at all, but they never returned. I gave up many times, only to return and try again, hoping that whatever system was in place had diminished or decayed over time. As of the time I created this fragment, I had no success.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°But obviously, someone did, or you wouldn¡¯t be here with me now, using the system my mother carried in a charm around her neck.¡±


    A memento, Mooster called it. I guess he was being more literal than I thought. I feel more accidental every day. So what happened, did the factory mine break the spell?


    Not that many weeks ago, Lilijoy had realized the factory mine had passed by Night¡¯s Safety at just about the time she and Attaboy had been born.


    The factory mines started showing up around thirty years ago, so it took it about seventeen years to get there. Unless it came later?


    She realized that she had no idea how far the Piles stretched in the opposite direction from its source, and thus no idea how long that particular factory-mine had been around. And where did they even come from? Did they just spring up from the earth, like magic? Did Guardian manufacture them in orbit and use really, really big parachutes?


    Lilijoy realized that Emily was watching her think. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m used to thinking so fast that I can take all the time I want in the middle of a conversation,¡± she explained.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve got nothing but time.¡± Emily replied. ¡°Usually, I just make myself think slow, so that I don¡¯t waste power. But I remember conversations with unaugmented people, or on the Inside, where I would read entire chapters of books between sentences, if it was a boring conversation anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done the exact same thing!¡± Lilijoy admitted. ¡°This is actually kind of nice. It¡¯s not an option, so I don¡¯t have to think about it.¡± She remembered something she had been meaning to ask, ¡°So what became of the facility in Taos? Is it worth going there?¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Depends, I guess. The manufacturing facilities were already in the process of being mothballed when I was there. I helped close the rest of it down tight when I left, but I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s held up all these years.¡±


    ¡°You never went back?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not fond of snow. By the time I left the Earth was already tipping into a glacial period, after spazzing around for decades. I think there were five feet of snow on the ground in November. That was not a fun way to start a trip, let me tell you.¡±


    Lilijoy shivered sympathetically, remembering the frigid temperatures outside the monastery in Cochabamba; one¡¯s system could only do so much. ¡°What I really need is more information, about the system, about everything.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of that up there. Once they figured out how to grow the crystals the right ways, outside of the brain, they built some fairly impressive computers. I¡¯m running on about a cubic centimeter of the stuff, give or take, and much of that is¡­ sub-optimal. Compromised one way or another. We had cubic meters of the stuff, ventilated appropriately of course. It¡¯s all just sitting up there. Of course, Guardian¡¯s probably using it so you might need to ask nicely.¡±


    Wait. What?


    ¡°Did you just say I could talk to Guardian up there?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes? As much as anyone can. Guardian doesn¡¯t pay much attention to the brain-based systems, mostly because Mom and Dad did all they could to keep them separate. That¡¯s what I was doing here at Alcantara in the first place, checking on the status of the terminal Mom used here. At least I think so, it¡¯s all a bit foggy.¡±


    ¡°So there are terminals where someone can contact Guardian directly?¡± Lilijoy was having a little trouble wrapping her head around the concept.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like Guardian needs more than the tiniest bit of itself to talk with a human. I mean, that¡¯s basically what you do when you go Inside.¡± She wrinkled her nose. ¡°Do people still do that?¡± She continued as Lilijoy nodded. ¡°But the terminals, they¡¯re a little different. It¡¯s not like you get root access or something, just the possibility of a slightly more direct conversation. It can get a little weird, I¡¯ll tell you that.¡±


    Lilijoy could imagine, but she had to ask. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°On the Inside, Guardian uses human templates for nearly all of the consciousnesses, at least in the places humans go. Guardian itself was formed from such a template; Mom didn¡¯t have time to figure out artificial intelligence from scratch, so she whipped up a composite. But that just served as the kernel; Guardian probably surpassed it or overwrote it in the first couple seconds after it awoke. Guardian doesn¡¯t see existence the way we do, and its concepts don¡¯t fit into human language easily.¡±


    Lilijoy was still hung up on Emily¡¯s second point. ¡°Did you just say that Guardian started as a human mind?¡±


    Emily wobbled a blocky hand. ¡°Template. It¡¯s nothing I understand that well, I just got to grow up around it. Dad and Atticus were gone a lot of the time, so Mom talked to me about her projects. Our consciousness is a bunch of feedback loops that culminate in a narrative process. She built Guardian¡¯s consciousness around the templates provided by Tao System data. So you could say that it¡¯s part of the family I guess; she used herself and Dad for the main part, since they had the best data sets.¡±


    Lilijoy fought the urge to sit down. It was more than a little surreal, listening to Emily talk so casually about such earth-shattering mysteries.


    What a way to grow up, she thought. ¡®Hi Mom, how was work?¡¯, ¡®Oh not bad, I just built a mind that will dominate human existence in the future, using Dad and myself as models. Don¡¯t forget to clean your room.¡¯


    Her mind teemed with questions, multiplying and jostling for her attention, but an even stronger emotion filled her heart, a combination of satisfaction and joyful anticipation, the knowledge that each of the newly created queries could be fed and nourished.


    She was finally getting answers.

 Book 3: Chapter 9: Revelations

    It was difficult not to get distracted by what was happening on the Outside while playing tag with a horde of wirry-squirrels. Fortunately, it was a game with virtually no consequences other than irritation from the annoying sounds the creatures made. The constant chattering was really beginning to get on Lilijoy¡¯s nerves.


    Other than that, it was a delightful workout, and a fantastic way for her to improve her Sling skill. Not only that, but she had discovered a new level of synergy between Acrobatics, Flash, and the mental enhancements allowed by her system. While the squirrels were, predictably enough, quick and agile, Lilijoy was on another level entirely. She sprang from fallen tree to upright trunk, spinning and twisting, able to track the movement of her sling and keep it from fouling on her own body and the environment. Her accuracy wasn¡¯t great, given the ridiculous number of force vectors to keep track of while attempting to hit moving targets, but she didn¡¯t mind that much.


    For her, it was the sheer joy of the dance, tossing a sling stone ahead of her, calculating the perfect acrobatic pathway that would allow her to capture it with her sling in mid-air and apply the twisting force of her body to an abbreviated twirl that expelled the stone she had just captured. If it went in the general direction of a squirrel, that was a bonus in her opinion.


    Of course for every time she succeeded in a sequence of tumbles, tosses and sling-twirls, she failed, sometimes spectacularly. All the kinesthetic awareness and acrobatic modeling in the world couldn¡¯t save her from hitting a patch of slippery moss, or misjudging the structural soundness of a particular fallen log. But even there, she enjoyed the improvisation of recovery.


    The first time she used the sling itself to whip around a tree branch and save herself from wiping out, a whole new world of possibilities opened before her. The sling was not simply a tool for applying velocity to a stone; it could be a tool, or even a weapon on its own. The sling she was using was not ideally suited, a simple leather cup with two strong cords attached on either side, a small weight for her to hold on both. Her first sling teacher had taught her that the release technique, how to let go of one weight while holding the other, was the most important part of using the sling by far, and now she was very glad she had listened. But with her new insight, she was already imagining modifications to the classic form, some combination of a manriki gusari and sling, with a chain and heavier weights on either end.


    Throughout all of this, the squirrels chased her around, every once in a while getting a chance to bite and scratch her when she wiped out. Since their ability to inflict damage was well below her Invulnerability, they could do no more than tickle, and she almost enjoyed the sensation of being covered in warm, furry bodies. Eventually, she tired of the exercise and messaged Anda.


    <hr>


    Hey Anda, how many level three wirry-squirrels


    do you think the group could handle?


    I think I¡¯ve got about fifteen at this point.


    Max damage 10, 2-4 abatement.


    They¡¯re pretty quick though.


    <hr>


    He messaged back.


    <hr>


    While a little panic would be great for their experience,


    let¡¯s save that for some other time. Actually, scratch that -


    bring them all to the clearing and take care of them there.


    We¡¯ll hide and come in at the end.


    It¡¯ll be good for them to watch what you can do.


    <hr>


    Lilijoy confirmed the plan, and then began the process of kiting fifteen very angry and frustrated wirry-squirrels back to the clearing. She would have felt bad about arranging to slaughter normal squirrels, even if it was for a good cause, but it was clear from all the fallen and sickly trees that these tainted creatures were out of balance with the forest.


    Come on guys, she thought. It¡¯s almost showtime.


    ***


    This is turning out to be a great day! Lilijoy thought as she processed what Emily was telling her. I¡¯m finally going to be acting from knowledge instead of guesswork.


    She was also feeling excited about the chance to show off her combat skills to the Fogeys. The notion of performing for an audience inspired an unfamiliar feeling; excitement and anticipation mixed with a bit of irrational fear. She would have expected such an emotion if she were about to perform for stands full of roaring spectators, but was a bit confused to feel it from the prospect of performing for a small group certain to be impressed. She wished herself well, and turned her primary focus back to Emily¡¯s blocky avatar.


    ¡°How often did you talk to Guardian?¡± she asked. ¡°Do you understand about the Inside and the Great Cycles and all that?¡±


    Emily looked at Lilijoy directly, her expression enigmatic. ¡°At the time I created¡­ I mean, at the time I was created, I probably understood Guardian better than any living human, or so I thought at the time. On the days when I thought my parents were dead anyway.¡±


    She gave a tiny shake of her head. ¡°Sorry, It¡¯s hard to keep track of such things. Anyway, part of the reason I left myself in this shard was because I was about to do something...I¡¯m not sure what, but something to try and influence Guardian, or at least understand it better. I was going to go away, possibly forever. I remember that much. I feel pretty comfortable telling you what I know, since I removed any memories that might interfere with whatever that was, but you should understand that I can¡¯t even tell you everything I once knew, and even that was probably fundamentally wrong on some level.¡±


    She is really not selling this well.


    ¡°Do you know what Guardian¡¯s first communication through the terminal was?¡± Emily asked.


    Lilijoy could only shake her head.


    ¡°Let me set the scene for you. First of all, understand that when I say ¡®terminal¡¯, I don¡¯t mean a literal computer with a screen and all that. A terminal is more of a junction, an interface specifically for the Tao system. It was November 3, 2080, and just seconds before, everyone was going about their day like any other day. I was eating lunch by myself, thinking about the live test, feeling jealous of Atti for being in the heart of it while I was stuck in snowville. Then the lights flicker. That¡¯s it, no apocalypse, no heavenly choir announcing the end of the world as I knew it. Just a flicker. So I take another bite, and some guy a table down from me says something about the computers not responding. Did I mention I was eating in the cafeteria? Anyway, there weren¡¯t many people there, and only two or three had the actual Tao system as you know it. Dad was controlling that tightly, and barely fifty people in the world had Stage One. Of those, maybe twenty had Stage Two? Everyone else had other systems, Tesla or whatever, and limited access to the Tao system network.¡±


    She stopped for a moment, staring off into space in a way that made Lilijoy want to turn her head to see what she was looking at. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, after a moment. ¡°I always ramble when I tell this story. Anyway, then someone else is pointing at the wall, and I looked to see what it was, and everyone was looking. We could all see that something was there, but most of the people around me were seeing words, reading something, and I¡­ just felt like my head was going to explode when I tried to see exactly what it was. It twisted and turned and I heard Jeannie yelling about thermal resonance.¡±


    She stopped again, and while Lilijoy had many questions, she couldn¡¯t bear to interupt.


    ¡°And then¡­ it stopped. It just stopped, and I felt a voice, a voice in my head more powerful than the voice of my own conscious thoughts. At first I thought it was just me thinking, feeling the words more than hearing. It was the voice of god, or rather, a god, and it said¡­ ''I¡¯m sorry, little minds.''"


    Emily turned back to Lilijoy. ¡°That was the first thing Guardian said through the terminal. ¡®I¡¯m sorry...¡¯ At first I thought it was sorry for nearly frying my brain with what I later understood to be the Rules, but eventually I knew better. Guardian was sorry for us all, for what was going to happen to over six billion people when it enforced the Rules.¡±


    It was a fact too heavy for thought, too oppressive for articulate feeling. Emily lapsed into silence, and they stayed silent together for some time. Lilijoy could only think of the parallel between her tiny, personal experience and that of an entire planet¡¯s worth of individuals, of the words that Grabby said when she dumped her to die or live at the edge of the territory, I''m sorry, little one. It seemed that Guardian had done much the same to humanity. The acts felt almost sacrificial, like a ritual of abandonment.


    Eventually, Emily spoke again.


    ¡°The next weeks were so strange. We were insulated from the worst of it, the panics, the conflicts that broke out in the immediate aftermath. We had food, shelter and even power. The heavy snows protected us to an extent, I¡¯m sure. Everyone was trying to grapple with the Rules, what they meant, what they implied. The fact that Guardian could control what people were seeing through their systems caused¡­ well, it wasn¡¯t pretty, I remember that much. People lost their minds, questioned whether they could trust anything they saw. Some deleted their systems, some deleted themselves.¡±


    Boy, thought Lilijoy, If this is Emily with most of the sad memories removed¡­


    ¡°What did you see in the Rules after that first time?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Once I dared to look again, I saw words, just like everyone else. Not the same words though. We had already figured out that everyone saw something a little different, and I had heard other people¡¯s versions. I was scared, terrified really, that I would be associated with what had happened, so at first I pretended that I saw the same thing as everyone else. The other Tao system users who were with me were all Stage One; my trainers and Stage Two mentors were all back in the Amazon for the test, so I had no one to talk to about what I was seeing.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°I can relate to that,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to understand them, with only a little help along the way. I can¡¯t understand Rule Two very well at the moment.¡±


    Emily gave her a curious look. ¡°I wish I had the ability to truly understand your situation,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just not equipped to learn and process much new information in this state. But if you want, I can try to explain Rule Two. Tell me what you see.¡±


    Lilijoy related her version of Rule Two...


    Given externally set, relatively deterministic probability distribution fields


    and the unknown degree of repository detachment,


    manipulation of local variables impacting


    possibly global entropic values is forbidden without future bounding


    ...and Emily shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s terrible.¡±


    Seeing Lilijoy¡¯s face, she quickly explained. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean your understanding. I meant the obscurity of the language. You¡¯re missing so much context. There are ways of¡­ drilling down, or getting it to¡­ unfold, I guess is a better way to say it. Each of the words, and combinations of words, has a depth, a dimensionality, that you can learn to manipulate. It took me a few subjective decades to become fluent though, so be patient. The good news is that I taught myself to do it, so you can too.¡±


    Throughout the conversation, Lilijoy had been accumulating topics she wanted to go back and explore in more depth, branches to the main trunk. What had Emily been doing in Taos? Who was Jeannie? What else had she done during the time after the rise of Guardian? Now she really wanted to take some time to to talk about this notion of subjective time, and just how Emily had come to manage the discrepancies between her internal processing speed and the flow of time everyone else used.


    This conversation alone could take a few subjective decades, she thought.


    ¡°How much longer can we talk like this?¡± she asked. ¡°I have so much I want to ask you.¡±


    Emily grimaced. ¡°Well, we¡¯re coming to the point where we need to be more efficient, that¡¯s for sure. You can always come back and dig me out, carefully please! These shards are fragile, and if something heavy shifted the wrong way¡­ Anyway, I¡¯ve put together a file, a timeline of sorts, with some of the information I think you might want. I¡¯ll send that to you now.¡±


    Lilijoy accepted the data packet, putting it with the black box she had received earlier.


    ¡°I really want to learn more about Rule Two,¡± she said. ¡°But first, can you tell me more about the shard computers? Do you know anything about how they are made?¡±


    She was thinking of the material she had collected from the Piles, both for her own use, and to have a better idea of what plans Guardian might have for it.


    Emily shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I never had the faintest clue about that side of things. That was mostly Dr. Lee, though he was working very closely with Mom.¡±


    Another Bro. Well, at least I know what Onlee did before he became a Tao zombie.


    ¡°What I can tell you is a little bit about how the shard computers, and Stage Two for that matter, work. It has a bearing on understanding Rule Two. You still have access to the internet archive?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded and Emily continued. ¡°Good, so you can fill in any gaps if you want the details. Basically, Dad stumbled on something by accident when he was researching using rare earth elements as resource bottlenecks. Initially, he was most interested in the idea of using them to build self replicators that couldn''t run away, but he discovered that the right configuration made for excellent room-temperature quantum processors, and additionally they had an inherent structural hierarchy which made programming them for various tasks relatively simple. It reminded him of the structural hierarchies in the brain, and he worked with Mom to build them into a neural interface.¡±


    Emily paused and looked down at her pixelated hand. ¡°She told me later that they were both nervous about how well it worked, that it felt like they were cheating somehow, borrowing the computational properties of reality itself. That¡¯s what brings us to Rule Two.¡±


    She waved her hand and the pixels resolved into the appearance of flesh and blood. ¡°This is a metaphor, but it¡¯s mostly true. If you look at my hand now, you can see details. If you brought in a microscope, I could show you cells, if you looked in those cells, I could show you molecules. Now tell me, are those molecules real?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of a meaningless question isn¡¯t it?¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°Yes and no. Mu might be the best response.¡± She had learned about mu from Anda ages ago, and had been waiting for a good opportunity to use it, the answer to any question that proposed meaningless categories.


    ¡°Ha! I have a funny story about that and Dad. Remind me to tell you if I get the chance,¡± Emily said. ¡°So yes, meaningless. Now what if I told you that science works the same way, that the answers, the equations, the rules, as it were, are generated as you look?¡±


    Lilijoy thought about this for a bit. ¡°I guess that as long as they¡¯re the same every time I look, it doesn¡¯t matter. Just like how Guardian runs details on the Inside.¡±


    ¡°Sure. So then, what if you could measure the degree to which the answers varied on the Inside? Or in my hand here? Maybe I show you a bunch of random cells every time, or I remember exactly how I did it before, but I don¡¯t bother to remember the molecules. Okay? So then there¡¯s an extent to which you can trust the reality of my hand here. If it¡¯s exactly the same every time, we might as well call it real, but if it changes wildly, then it¡¯s something else, fiction, illusion, delusion¡­ you name it.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re saying that holds true for our universe? That there¡¯s a degree of freedom, however small, in the fundamental laws?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You could say that, compared to the Inside, they are relatively deterministic.¡±


    Oh. Now she saw where this was going. ¡°So that¡¯s what Rule Two is referring to!¡±


    ¡°Yup. And if you keep in mind that the laws of physics are, at their heart, measures of the probabilities of outcomes, ways for humans to capture what they see, what they measure...¡±


    ¡°Then the repository is whatever contains the universe? Or our local universe anyway.¡±


    ¡°Right. And the next bit is the most interesting of all. What would happen if someone shut off the power to all the computers Guardian is using to create the Inside?¡±


    It seemed like an obvious enough answer. ¡°It would vanish.¡±


    ¡°Would it? To be fair, it seems likely. But what if there was enough¡­ consistency to its existence that it was somehow self-reinforcing, that it could spin off on its own? There are a bunch of metaphysics that we don¡¯t need to get into right now, but just imagine it was possible.¡±


    Lilijoy imagined. Then she understood. ¡°We don¡¯t know if our own universe is independent or not. There could be an off-switch.¡±


    ¡°That seems to be what Guardian believes. ''Unknown degree of repository detachment'' is just a way of saying we don¡¯t know how dependent we are on external forces for our continuing existence.¡±


    She waved her hand again, and removed its resolution. ¡°So there you have it. That¡¯s what I remember figuring out on the subject over my years to this point. Guardian is hedging its bets, while it...¡± She tailed off and her face became confused. ¡°While it¡­ dammit I should know this!¡±


    ¡°While it tries to figure out what¡¯s really going on?¡± It gave Lilijoy a warm feeling to think that Guardian might, on some level, be just as confused as she was. This was followed by a much colder feeling of dread, when she realized that Guardian, on some level, might be just as confused as she was.


    ¡°Yes. But Guardian is doing¡­ something. Something important. And I can¡¯t remember what it is.¡± She shook her head and her face brightened. ¡°Oh well. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a little chill pass down her spine to see such overt proof of the limits of fragment Emily¡¯s existence. She decided it would be prudent to take the conversation in another direction.


    ¡°You mentioned someone named Jeannie; was that your assistant?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a Stage Two thing.¡±


    Lilijoy found it telling that Emily couldn¡¯t put together the rather obvious fact that she already had Stage Two. I wonder if it¡¯s just too hard for her to reason with new information, or is it too hard for her to conceive of a thirteen year-old being allowed to go through that?


    ¡°Was that what you were doing up at Taos? Going through Stage Two?¡±


    ¡°Partly. I did that a couple months before Guardian became active, while Dad was still there. I stayed because he wanted me to learn self-defense and take some survival courses in the area. Ironic, huh?¡±


    ¡°I bet they came in handy.¡±


    ¡°You better believe it. Especially since the satellite channels weren¡¯t around in the early days to help fill in the gaps. Those came up after a year or two. The only one that was there almost from the beginning was the Inside.¡±


    ¡°So what was the Inside like in the early days?¡±


    Emily sighed. ¡°It was magical. Just what I asked for.¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy opened her eyes and looked over the debris strewn plane of the Alcantara launch center from her lofty perch on the rubble pile.


    Three minutes, she thought. So much can change in three minutes.


    Granted, it had been more than an hour subjectively. Nonetheless, the diffuse light of the sun and the low-banked clouds overhead had barely moved. She was still fighting squirrels on the Inside, or at least they were fighting her; she had not even made it to the clearing where she would put on her display for the Fogeys.


    The black box, the bundle of data that Emily, real Emily, had judged to be too disturbing for her fragment, hovered at the edge of her awareness. Lilijoy did her best to ignore it.


    I¡¯ve got enough to think about. Like the fact that there might be many universes, layers of them, and some are more real than others. It really is turtles all the way down. Or is it up?


    It was not a new idea to her that she was on the edge of a cloud of propagating realities, simulation within simulation, or repository within repository, to adopt Guardian¡¯s language. However, facing it as a truth, with consequences and implications that impacted her on a personal level was different.


    Doctor Quimea was nearly right, he just didn¡¯t think big enough. Now that¡¯s an alarming notion.


    The last few minutes of her conversation with fragment Emily had been somewhat frustrating. Her memories of the Inside, her understanding of what Guardian was doing there, the thirty year cycles, all of that was foggy, or missing entirely. While it didn¡¯t give Lilijoy much to work with, at least she knew that the information was important, that Emily had felt it was too sensitive to leave with her fragment. Either that or it was all somehow too painful. Or both.


    Emily had loved the Inside, that much was abundantly clear. She seemed to think that it had been a gift to her from Guardian, a personal world to replace what she had lost. Maybe it had been; Lilijoy was certainly in no position to argue. According to Emily, she had asked Guardian to restore Day/Night Universe, her favorite recreational escape, and Guardian had, but with so much more.


    Emily had been so happy to describe her early days on the Inside, her interactions with the Garden Archon.


    ¡°I got rid of all the undead stuff, or rather the Archon did, when I asked. They were just so¡­ gross. There were only a few self-aware subsets in those days, but early on I made friends with some of them. If I could have, I would have moved there for good. Or at least that¡¯s how I felt when things were bad on the Outside. The people there were just¡­ well, they hadn¡¯t gone through what everyone on the Outside had. They were innocent.¡±


    Lilijoy was still reeling from the last part of the conversation.


    ¡°Who were your friends on the Inside?¡± she had asked, feeling it was entirely possible that some of them were still around the Garden.


    Emily¡¯s eyes had softened. ¡°My best friend of all was a little scamp, a Pooka. He was the Archon¡¯s assistant slash pet when I met him, but then he started following me around. I loved that little guy. The adventures we had together...¡± She turned to Lilijoy, who was startled to see tears in her eyes. ¡°If you ever meet him, please tell him I¡¯m sorry for leaving.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± she promised. ¡°What was his name?¡±


    ¡°He was called Shadow.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 10: Priming

    I keep finding answers in the place I¡¯m not looking, Lilijoy thought as she flew through the air. She pulled in her legs to speed her rotation, then extended them as she landed on an unfortunate wirry-squirrel. So Shadow was Emily¡¯s companion. Should I assume it¡¯s the same Shadow who later followed Eskallia? And who might be pulling the strings behind Magpie and Raven? It¡¯s all so tenuous.


    She landed a series of jabs, knocking away the squirrel that was leaping for her throat, then rolled to the side. Anda had asked her to refrain from using Qi, and to keep Flash to a minimum so that the others could follow her movements. Lilijoy was happy to oblige, though she was feeling excited to move on with her day. While the Mystic Library was beckoning, she wasn¡¯t in a huge hurry to revisit Eskallia¡¯s somewhat depressing state of mind, so she had decided that she would spend the rest of the day crafting, training, and goofing off. It was the last of those she was most excited about.


    In truth, she wasn¡¯t really sure what goofing off might entail, but she was hoping that Attaboy, or maybe Skria would have some ideas. Maybe I can whip up some kind of glider and sneak up to the Academy roof. That might be fun.


    She kicked another squirrel as she regained her feet, then spun and ducked, causing two leaping squirrels to collide over her head. Maybe I should wrap this up.


    ¡°Hey Anda!¡± she called. ¡°Anyone else want a turn?¡±


    There were seven wirry-squirrels still attacking her, the others were now strewn about the clearing in various stages of mortality. The creatures were quite single-minded, stupidly aggressive really, and when the first of the Fogeys entered the clearing they were immediately attacked. Lilijoy was impressed, and a little proud, to see them hold off the leaping rodents with wooden buckler shields and clubs, taking stances that were close to balanced. The rest of the battle wasn¡¯t short, and it wasn¡¯t pretty, but ultimately the last wirry-squirrel fell under the combined blows of the entire group.


    A rousing cheer went up from the group, followed by groans and complaints about backs and hips.


    ¡°A man can take a few scratches and bites,¡± said Mr. Sennit, ¡°but I haven¡¯t needed to bend like that in twenty years.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure this is a good idea?¡± Lilijoy whispered to Anda as she watched them hobble around the clearing.


    ¡°They just need some experience to prime the pump,¡± he replied. ¡°After they get a few levels this way, they can get out of their ruts, raise up their crafting skills. They¡¯re never going to be great fighters, but they¡¯re all at least close to Master level in a skill or two. They just need mana, and to raise their magi skills in their main craft, or secondary crafts if they¡¯re topped off in the main one.¡±


    He nodded toward Mr. Sennit. ¡°Take our friend over there. His mana is a third of what he needs to actually use his skill to its full potential, and he¡¯s also a Natural Journeyman herbalist for goodness sake. Once he gets those issues taken care of, he¡¯ll be earning experience from all the new creative avenues that open up for him.¡±


    ¡°I see what you mean about priming the pump,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°They need experience to get experience. But it¡¯s going to be slow going for a little while.¡±


    ¡°Not as slow as you might think,¡± he said. He raised his voice. ¡°Raise your hand if you leveled up!¡±


    Five hands, some shakier than others, made their way upward.


    ¡°There, you see,¡± Anda said, turning back to Lilijoy. ¡°Getting up to level ten won¡¯t take long at all, and for some of them, that will be double where they started. For folks of this age, new experiences allow them to recontextualize what they already know, at least that¡¯s my working theory. Some of them gained a level just by basic weapons training, which I¡¯d never seen before.¡±


    ¡°Be careful Anda,¡± Lilijoy said with a grin. ¡°If this gets out, suddenly all the clans will start waiting until their kids are seventy before sending them in.¡±


    Anda shrugged. ¡°You never know. They¡¯ve tried some pretty crazy things to game the system over the years. My old clan tried raising a generation almost entirely on the Inside.¡± He shuddered. ¡°It didn¡¯t work out well.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean...¡± Lilijoy was mildly appalled. Then she decided to strike the ¡®mildly¡¯.


    ¡°Yes¡­ they gave the children systems really young, like five, six. The only time they spent Outside was for eating and exercise. The goal was to make unstoppable warriors for the clan¡¯s Inside development, but instead they got mental illness, stagnated growth and¡­ other weirdness. It¡¯s one of the reasons the Maasai now send in their youth relatively late.¡±


    Lilijoy was almost afraid to ask. ¡°Other weirdness?¡±


    Anda grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s all campfire stories at this point, a forbidden topic. Some of them refused to log out and their Outside bodies eventually died. The rumor is that they became ghosts on the Inside, demons who hunted any young child from the clan who came in. Others became¡­ detached from their Outside bodies, changing their Inside forms in impossible ways. When they would log out, they were violent and unpredictable, and many of them were eventually killed on the Outside.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s horrible,¡± Lilijoy said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the real truth of it,¡± said Anda. ¡°It happened a couple generations before I was born. In the aftermath the leadership of the clan changed and there was a far more traditional mindset. For the most part the older clan members refuse to speak of it.¡± He lapsed into silence, watching Mr. Anderson, the tanner¡¯s assistant, and Mrs. Chang process the bodies of the wirry-squirrels.


    ¡°Well, I should see if anyone needs healing,¡± Lilijoy said, feeling a little bad she hadn¡¯t done so immediately.


    ***


    Not much later, Lilijoy sat in the tall grass next to the fields of the Academy. The plants enclosing her whispered gently in the wind, blocking her sight of anything but the sky above. It was a perfect getaway to work on her hand weaving, surrounded as it was by the raw materials she would need. Before starting, she pulled up her character sheet, eager to see any changes. Several days before she had disabled all notifications, deciding that she preferred to interact with the Inside as naturally as possible, and also for moments like these, which she considered small gestures toward the path of joyful anticipation.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 16


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Awakener


    Free Points: 22* (2 + 20 Direct)


    HP: 102


    Natural Traits


    STR: 23 (44 effective)


    END: 59


    SPD: 57 (177 effective)


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 18 (+90% STR)


    INV: 41


    VIT: 20


    FLASH: 42 (+210% SPD)


    MW: 129


    MG: 10%/100 Sec.


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 33


    Earth: 60


    Water: 30


    Air: 28


    Charm:


    People: 34


    Plants: 78


    Animals: 67 This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Abilities


    Scan III (Universal)


    Echolocation IV (Uncommon)


    Infrared Vision III (Uncommon)


    Low Light Vision II (Common)


    Two Minds One Self (-) (Unique)


    Earthen Sense I (Very Rare)


    Mana Manipulation (Rare)


    Skills (VP)


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Nature: Plants: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Unarmed Combat: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Acrobatics: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Meditation: Upgraded Journeyman (10)


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Stealth: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Medical/Healing: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Climbing: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Deception: Augmented Apprentice (6)


    Hand Weaving: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Weapons: Projectile: Sling: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Gliding/Flight: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Teaching: Natural Initiate (2)


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1)


    Dance: Natural Novice (1)


    Magic


    Source:


    Clades:


    Classes: Fused


    Spells:


    <hr>


    Everything was as she had left it, with the exception of the one thing she had hoped to see. Her Sling skill had moved to the Apprentice level, which made her unreasonably happy. She had added the magic categories to her sheet as a reminder of the mystery that was Fused, an orphaned class that shouldn¡¯t be there.


    Or it should be there? If Nandi¡¯s Boon is a source of some kind, why doesn¡¯t it show up on my sheet now that I can use it? If it¡¯s not a source, then what the heck is going on?


    She had discovered a direct correlation between her ability to use Nandi¡¯s Boon and her diamond-colored mana, or rather the emotions that added that particular color to her soul vortex. She understood that all of her internal visualizations were, in a sense, metaphors. They were symbolic representations of what was actually going on that she had created for herself, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel like her metaphor was becoming a bit disconnected from the truth. It didn¡¯t help that she couldn¡¯t really tell which aspects were from her system, which were from the Inside, and which were from her own imagination.


    Let¡¯s see. I have a mana well, or core, which collects mana from the environment. From that I can pull threads and make spindles, which are kind of like specialized sub-cores I need to maintain. I can manipulate the mana from my core in a variety of ways, play with its consistency, spin it, keep in my body or project it, depending on what type it is. The different types of mana have different colors and characteristics, and I can¡¯t tell how much of that was arbitrary.


    She knew that everyone seemed to have their own visualization for mana, or even used different sense models altogether. As far as she could tell, some models worked better than others, and she had been able to help her friends use their skills more effectively by helping them adjust how they thought about their mana. It seemed that one¡¯s imaginations of how things worked needed to line up with some underlying reality.


    Except it also seemed like the mana system was responsive to the imagination, that the map could affect the territory to some extent. Perhaps it was even possible that different people had entirely different rules, their own unique powers and limitations determined by their own assumptions and creativity. According to what Emily had told her, it wasn¡¯t impossible that the Outside worked that way as well, but with a greatly reduced degree of freedom. The universe was inclined to be flexible until it was pinned down.


    She put that speculation to the side and returned her thoughts to the Inside and her understanding of mana. For environmental mana, the ambient energy produced by just about everything around her, it was the same story, or so she assumed, that those who could sense it understood it in differing ways that made sense to them.


    Then there was her soul vortex, which started out entirely within the Tao System, or between her system and her imagination anyway. Now it seemed to be crossing over to the Inside as well, presenting a kind of three-body problem of mutual influence. Except the distinction between the Tao System and the Inside no longer seemed so clear. After all, if Guardian had originally shaped the Inside for Emily, that could explain why Lilijoy could send messages and check external feeds and do all the other things the other users couldn¡¯t.


    That¡¯s it, she realized. The soul vortex has been a part of the Inside since the beginning. In fact, the way the Insiders work is probably modeled on many aspects of the Tao System. I¡¯m not special; the other Outsiders just don¡¯t fit as well as I do. Except that still doesn¡¯t explain why Henry and Gabriella and whoever put a soul vortex into the Tao System in the first place.


    Her thoughts kept returning to the biggest problems, but she refused to get trapped in speculation.


    Whatever. They had their reasons. I just want to figure out how to use it for my own. So all my experiences get pulled in¡­ no that¡¯s not quite right. It¡¯s collecting the experiences that match the Inside¡¯s criteria for Experience, or something like it. Emotional experience. Meaningful experience. And then I can pull it out again and do¡­ what? What am I even pulling out? More mana?


    She thought about it for a moment, and then decided to call the energy in her soul vortex something different. Soul energy. It¡¯s a little on the nose, but who cares? It¡¯s related to using my mana. I can¡¯t use the Boon without both. Does soul energy somehow unlock the Boon and allow me to use my mana to look in and pull things out?


    Something didn¡¯t feel right about that model, as if she had all the parts and labels mixed up. There were three things, or rather two kinds of related energy and a thing. Soul energy, the Boon and mana. Key, lock and action. Once she got rid of the parts and focused on the labels, her memory triggered, recalling the first class she had ever attended.


    A key and a lock are used to open a door. For elemental magic, the mana is the key, or the thing that helps open the door, anyway. It determines how much energy can emerge and shapes it.The Source is, well the source of the energy.


    It took her one more moment to realize where she had gone wrong. Nandi¡¯s Boon acted like a door, a gate, so naturally her mind had assigned that label to it. But if she flipped it around¡­


    The mana opens the soul vortex. The soul vortex is the source of the energy to power Nandi¡¯s boon.


    The soul vortex was a Source.


    ***


    An hour passed, during which Lilijoy refined and tested her new model. Once she started looking at the soul vortex as a kind of Source, she realized that the Boon was acting as the Clade, Class, and Spell all rolled into one, that it was guiding her mana into different configurations to channel her Source energy. She also realized that this way of looking at things was still not exactly right, or rather that the comparison with elemental magic was a bit flawed.


    For one, it seemed that in elemental magic, the Source simply was. A fire Source had an inate and endless supply of raw fire energy, while in the case of her soul vortex, she was responsible for getting the energy in the first place, refining, storing and extracting it. Another obvious difference was that her soul vortex held many different types of emotional energy. Her best guess looking forward was that there would be incentives to specialize.


    Actually, I guess I already have an incentive. Nandi¡¯s Boon works with joyful anticipation, so of course I¡¯m going to want to focus on that, she realized. There¡¯s probably something like affinities too. I wonder if the other emotions just go to waste, or if they can be used, converted or something.


    She could already tell there was a great deal to learn, but that only kindled her excitement. It made her wonder how anyone could cultivate something like apathy. Maybe Mumo could give me some insight on that one? There were so many new things to think about and to try, she was practically vibrating. Could she learn to use her Fused class to visit her Trial space? Was there any way to quantify how much energy she could use? Why didn¡¯t using the Boon use up her own mana? Would she be able to duplicate some of the Boon¡¯s powers on her own?


    She opened her eyes after a long period of introspection and spent a few minutes enjoying her peaceful setting. Laying down on her back she could see the clear blue sky framed by the waving grass, and hear the distant voices at the various arenas.


    Emily was right, she decided. It is magical. Even with its dark and disgusting side, the mysteries and the intrigue, the Inside is magical.


    The contrast with the Outside couldn¡¯t be more clear at moments like these. With one set of eyes she looked through the clear canopy of the hovercar, at dun clouds and twisted, scrubby vegetation, while her other eyes traced a yellow butterfly dancing across her view. She took a deep breath of fresh air, while monitoring her system as it worked to remove environmental toxins and repair cellular damage from her trip across the blighted plain of the former space port.


    Is it even worth it? she wondered. What if we could all just move here, do whatever was needed to turn this into a self-sustaining universe? Is that what Guardian is trying to do while it maintains the Outside?


    It was an intriguing notion, as an idle fantasy anyway. If it was presented to her as a choice, she knew she couldn¡¯t abandon the Outside, the plants and animals who valiantly struggled to survive, the millions of humans who didn¡¯t have systems. She reached out and plucked a long green blade of grass and wound it around her finger as she thought.


    Is that why Guardian hasn¡¯t done more to help the Outside? Does it consider it a waste of effort?


    She knew there was one place she could go if she wanted the answer to that question, and so many of the other questions that had arisen from her talk with Emily. Fifteen hundred miles to the north there was a terminal.


    All right, Attaboy, she thought. Looks like I¡¯m joining your quest.

 Book 3: Chapter 11: Tokimeku

    Interlude: Nykka


    The girl. Why is everything about the girl?


    Nykka¡¯s thoughts kept returning to Lilijoy, even as she stalked through yet another stinking hemp field on a completely unconnected mission. She allowed herself the distraction, as the dangers of the Outside, while more consequential, tended to be far more predictable. Deep in safe territory on a wild goose chase, she took the opportunity to think without distraction or interruption. According to Attaboy, Lilijoy was the only one who could help her, could give her a system that might, just might, be able to replace her own. Attaboy insisted that he was unable to do this, that he was at the wrong stage, whatever that meant.


    That stupid, smart girl.


    She had learned more about Quimea¡¯s way of thinking from listening to his conversation with Lilijoy than all the previous years she had served him. And unlike Lilijoy, she had a context for what he was doing. She had done her best to help the girl, to keep her from getting drawn further into the Doctor¡¯s web, though she had been quite hampered by the need to assume she was being watched. She never felt entirely safe on the Inside, where her senses were not under her control. She understood all too well the dangers that could pose. After all, on the Outside, she was the one doing most of the controlling.


    Just a few minutes ago she had passed by two serfs working the fields. To them, she was¡­ whatever she wanted to be. A god. She could shape their reality as she saw fit, could flood their brain with ecstasy or agony, her only accountability to the Doctor, or whoever he designated as her superior. If she wanted, she could kill them with a thought. She found no joy in her powers though, due to the profound sense of isolation she had felt ever since she was a small child. No caretaker lasted long with little Nykka. Before she learned control the only people who could spend any length of time with her without undergoing some form of psychosis were the Doctor and other members of the upper echelons of Sinaloa who had systems built without any easily accessible back doors.


    Eventually, the Doctor had brought in a nanny with no system at all, which solved the psychosis issue for a time, until she began interacting with other children anyway. Gradually, she had gained a bit of control, and later, understanding, of what she was doing when she influenced those around her. That led to a very happy time when she was surrounded by friends her own age who loved her and would do absolutely anything she asked. Unfortunately, the Doctor moved around a lot and her friends had experienced severe withdrawal symptoms when she was removed from them. She was never told exactly what had happened to them, but she never saw them again.


    Slowly, Nykka had realized that she was to blame, that she poisoned those around her and must keep herself apart, if not physically then emotionally. Everyone else seemed to see it the same way; she was aware that there was an informal network of communications within the clan devoted to tracking and avoiding any unnecessary interactions with her.


    Somewhat ironically, she had a more difficult time controlling her own brain with any precision. According to the Doctor, this was due to the fact that her brain had been integrated directly with her system since before birth. She had conscious access to direct commands and controls, but her unconscious mind had ways of undermining and changing her neurochemistry back when she attempted to alter it away from its preferred homeostasis.


    She hated her system, but it was as much a part of her as her own body. It was her. It made her a pariah-god, it chained her to the Doctor. She knew that her attempts to replace it were doomed to failure, but she persevered anyway.


    What was that ancient civilization that said ¡®liberty or death¡¯?


    It sounded vaguely Roman to her, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to look it up.


    With a sigh, she forced her thoughts to her surroundings, feeling obligated to at least pretend to a cursory search. The last sighting of the green man, as the serfs were calling him, had been somewhere in this agricultural complex. Pausing her movement for a moment, she filtered out the ambient noise of wind and rustling leaves. There was a sound, something out of place¡­


    Is that laughter? Definitely out of place.


    She moved cautiously, tracking the sound, until she reached the edge of the crops, or rather an island within the field where stones had been piled and even an opportunistic tree had grown. A girl was talking, whispering really, with a man. A green man. He was nodding as he chewed.


    She could sense the girl''s system, knew her identity as Maria Mendez, as Recolectora2166, and at this range could already tap into her senses. From the green man, she could sense nothing at all.


    ¡°You tell the funniest stories,¡± Maria was saying, as she watched the man eat. He was hairless, and his skin, in addition to being green, was loose on his emaciated figure, as if he had once been much larger.


    ¡°Shit, that¡¯s nothing,¡± he replied between bites.


    The girl drew a breath at the curse word and then giggled. Nykka rolled her eyes.


    ¡°There was this one time...¡± the man continued. Nykka tuned him out and began to circle around behind him, removing herself from the girl''s senses as she did. She stayed just behind the last rows of plants, using the girl to watch for any signs that the man had detected her movements.


    ¡°...and he was picking glass out of his ass for days!¡± the man finished. He looked at Maria expectantly, but she didn¡¯t respond. Nykka watched as he waved a hand in front of Maria¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a new one,¡± he muttered. Then he froze as he felt Nykka¡¯s blade at the back of his neck.


    ¡°Shit. That¡¯s a sword, isn¡¯t it?¡± he said.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be hasty,¡± he said, raising his arms. ¡°I¡¯m no threat.¡±


    Nykka could see his hands shaking. No, she thought. You really aren¡¯t.


    ¡°Who are you and why are you here?¡± she demanded.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s kind of a long story¡­¡± he began.


    Chapter 11: Tokimeku


    The week passed quickly, once Lilijoy allowed herself to slow down. She had a minor epiphany about the path of joyful anticipation after her time in the field, the realization that the only thing she needed to do was to find and follow her own nature. If that took her farther along the path, as it certainly seemed to, then she was doing well, and if it took her in a different direction, then that was fine too, as there might be a path closer to her true nature to find. It was far more important to cultivate and develop her sense of self than to figure out and follow any set of arbitrary rules she might develop.


    That this way of thinking was probably part of the path itself, and thus she was following the path by not following the path was not lost on her; it carried the scent of paradox that indicated truth. The path was full of such minor contradictions, cosmetic paradoxes she had started calling them. To do or experience what she was anticipating made the anticipation go away; should she then never do anything? Or should she always focus on the next thing, even when she was finally doing something she had been looking forward to for a long time?


    Of course, the answer to both of those questions was no, but it was by asking them that she came to a better understanding. It was fascinating to her how narrow the path was when she tried to follow it, but how often it was underfoot when she didn¡¯t. And yet, it was simple enough to leave the path, as her experiences of trauma and corruption indicated.


    The solution to the first ¡®cosmetic paradox¡¯ was presented with the renewed sense of anticipation she felt when she sat down to craft. Each session spawned a burning desire to learn more, more about Hand Weaving, more about Leather Working, more about Paper Making and Glass Working and¡­ well the list went on. Every completed project, every lesson learned, left her anticipating the next day¡¯s experiences all the more. Like curiosity, it was a hunger that grew as you fed it.


    It didn¡¯t stop there either, for as she learned more individual crafts, she began to understand more about the depth of crafting on the Inside as a whole. As far as she could tell, the skills involved in ¡®natural¡¯ crafting were exactly the same as on the Outside. Certainly, she was able to draw on her internet memory to quickly boost herself to Initiate level as soon as she got her hands on the tools and materials, and if the new crafts were anything like Hand Weaving, she doubted it would take long at all to reach Apprentice. Where crafting on the Inside diverged, however was exactly in the tools and materials, past the very basic beginnings. This was because the Magi portion of the skill was more nuanced and complex than Lilijoy had ever dared to think. She had imagined that applying magical effects to a crafted item might be as simple as choosing from a list of possibilities, but it was in fact closer to a negotiation among three parties; the materials, the techniques and the crafter themselves.


    No, she corrected herself, not three parties. Three assemblies. Me and all my mana types, affinities, desires and predilections, the materials, their qualities, shapes and variances, and a thousand different techniques for manipulating, preparing and applying mana. And they¡¯re all interacting and creating feedback loops throughout the process.


    The art of crafting magical items then, was one where the crafter¡¯s understanding of all the details and potential interactions was merely a starting point. Currently she was experimenting with weaving various plants into bracelets. In theory she had six value points to add, given her current level of Upgraded Apprentice, but in practice, she was far from achieving an effect that matched her, already quite small, potential.


    Plants in general seemed to like prana energy, which was no surprise, so if she focused on adding this while she wove with grass, she could make a bracelet that would add one point to her Vitality. Unfortunately, the mana would slowly drain from any imperfections in the weave, so at best the effect lasted a few hours. If she used a more complicated braid, the effect seemed to last longer, unless she made more mistakes. Iris leaves seemed to prefer generic mana, and she had been able to create a bracelet that added two points to her mana well, after a string of failures that she still didn¡¯t understand. As with the grass bracelets, the effect diminished as the mana drained out of imperfections in her weave.


    Cattail reeds were also happy to accept prana, but they seemed to prefer the mana energy she associated with the Charm: People trait. Her best effort so far had created a bracelet that had a mild calming effect on herself and those in a small radius around her. It was so subtle, she hadn¡¯t been sure it was doing anything at all until she brought it to a training session with Rosemallow, who had demanded she remove it immediately.


    ¡°Get that peace-weave away from me,¡± her trainer had said, an expression of distaste on her face.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Lilijoy had apologized, but inwardly she was jubilant that someone had recognized something she had made, and it even had a name. ¡°So my bracelet is called a peace-weave? Who else makes them?¡±


    Rosemallow had looked down, and if Lilijoy didn¡¯t know better, she might have thought her trainer even looked a little guilty. ¡°River villagers in my home territory. They used them to protect themselves from¡­ monsters. That one you¡¯ve got there barely deserves the name though. Imagine a whole town festooned with the things.¡± She shuddered.


    Lilijoy could read between the lines on that easily enough. ¡°Master Rosemallow, what kind of crafting do you do?¡± she asked to move the subject along.


    Rosemallow had frowned. ¡°Wood.¡±


    Obviously she doesn¡¯t want to talk about it, Lilijoy thought. Too bad for her.


    ¡°What do you make?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Piles of goo out of nosy students,¡± Rosemallow replied.


    Given that Rosemallow dispensed bark and bite in roughly equal measure, Lilijoy had decided to let the subject drop for the moment. Ever since Averdale, Rosemallow had been more gruff than usual, and a bit more prone to training methods that led to respawn. Nonetheless, Lilijoy persisted, thinking particularly of what Professor Anaskafius had said about both his and Rosemallow¡¯s teaching techniques and time, how he characterized it as time-bounded suffering. A big part of harsh training was the knowledge that someday it would all be worth it, a trade of temporary pain for long-term gain. Lilijoy felt that her path was very much about her relationship with her future self and she had begun to find joy in the midst of the horrific training inflicted by Rosemallow.


    In this way she began to see the connection between her path and Rosemallow¡¯s, which led her to suspect that there might be more to Rosemallow¡¯s path than struggle with a dash of sadism. She still had been unable to pry the ¡®three words¡¯ out of her magic mentor, the words that Eskallia had used to change the monstrous oni from foe to¡­ eventually friend, but she suspected they must have something to do with Rosemallow¡¯s path.


    I wonder if Eskallia left that memory in the library too? That would be cheating... but how cool would it be to see the whole crew when they were young?


    She realized then that the odds of that particular memory being in the library were slim, as it involved Shadow. She had only visited the library once during the week, and then only to explore what her hundred credits might be good for, but she hadn¡¯t been able to resist asking about memories from or including Shadow while she was there. In reply, the library first offered her a list of over ten thousand entries, which narrowed to a few thousand when she specified Insiders, and then narrowed a bit further when she specified pookas. Pookas were, evidently, very fond of the name ¡®Shadow¡¯.


    She nearly gave up at that point, as the discovery undermined the already tenuous case she had built for her theory. If there were many pookas named Shadow out there, it was no longer an unlikely coincidence to have run across a couple, especially since she didn''t truly know if the Shadow who had grouped with Eskallia and Professor Anaskafius even was a pooka.


    She was further hindered by not being able to cross-reference her search by other people associated with memories. Just for fun she sampled a few of the memories recorded by pookas named Shadow, and found they were the most mundane activities possible. One of them was literally watching paint dry, while another was a view of a pot of water in the process of heating up. As far as she could tell, there were hundreds, maybe thousands of hours of such memories.


    Either pookas are the most boring people ever, or they were messing with the library system on purpose, she had realized. She knew for a fact that the first wasn¡¯t the case, as pookas were well known to be mischievous, enigmatic and reclusive. The memories of people who weren¡¯t pookas were even more problematic, as the creatures were always obscured in some way, or even completely invisible. When they spoke, it was whispered, and it was always the same.


    Shadow I be, maybe you see,


    a pact you must seek for even a peek,


    for favors, an oath, binding us both


    That was when she had given up on finding Shadow in the Mystic Library. It seemed that one wouldn¡¯t get past this first rhyming offer without making a binding promise of some kind, one which no doubt precluded sharing memories and information about what happened next. It disturbed her to find more evidence that oaths were a very real facet of the Inside, but more bothersome was the irrational feeling that she somehow knew even less than before she started the inquiry.


    That feeling was soon dispelled when she turned her attention to her library credits. As she had suspected, they could be used to purchase memories of skill use; insights and breakthroughs. It turned out to be a somewhat tricky system to navigate, as the memories were organized only by skill, level and cost.


    She had quickly realized the potential trap. If she spent credits on an expert-level memory, she might not have any context for its contents, and even with her perfect memory it might take some time, years even, to receive the full value. If she aimed for a lower level she might purchase a memory of something she already understood and waste the credits entirely. It didn¡¯t help that the ¡®pricing¡¯ seemed entirely arbitrary, or nearly so, for it was clear that some skills were valued more than others. When she asked, the library explained to her that the cost was determined by demand, value and the skill level and completeness involved, as well as ¡®arbitrary factors¡¯.


    ¡°What does arbitrary factors mean in this context?¡± she had asked.


    Whatever


    I


    want.


    Thus...


    arbitrary.


    Well that¡¯s just great. Talk about institutional friction.


    ¡°Do you have any memories about skills in general, how to analyze, reduce and combine them?¡±


    No purely


    or primarily


    internal memories.


    Nice try


    ¡°So that rules out most of the magic related subjects?¡±


    Effects are


    documented.


    Causes are


    not.


    ¡°I could see someone cast a new spell, but not have the memory of how they figured it out.¡±


    Precisely


    That put a damper on many of her plans for how to use her credits, but also relieved the nagging anticipatory guilt she had been feeling about taking shortcuts. It seemed the library could enable her to move forward in her understanding of concrete knowledge and skills, but that understanding principles and concepts would still be her responsibility.


    Her first experiment was with a skill memory she could purchase for a single credit, Swimming. While she had no problem kicking around in the pond during her Flash training, the skill had yet to show up on her character sheet. Lilijoy had noted that there seemed to be some minimum threshold for that to occur, so she was curious to find just where that limit was. She turned on her notifications, so that she could see just when the skill became official, and then entered the Initiate level memory, recorded by an Academy student many years before.


    Thankfully, the library made sure there was a certain level of species compatibility, so she wasn¡¯t learning how to swim as a quadruped or something. Soon, she was in the water, experiencing a lesson of how to coordinate her arms, legs and breathing in a variety of strokes, though no skill notification was forthcoming. Unlike her memories of the sacking of Averdale, or Eskallia¡¯s encounter with Echelon, this memory was efficient and impersonal.


    She was Lim Zhi Hao, an Outsider, and she was summarizing everything she had learned about swimming in order to see if she could trade it with the library for a credit. As she swam, she thought about what she was doing and why, the names of the strokes, the timing of the movements, the techniques for breathing. She herself was already a Journeyman swimmer so her thoughts on the subject were clear and organized.


    From that experience Lilijoy understood the skill memories much better. In some ways, they were simply an upgraded form of the instructional videos from the internet archive. Indeed, Lilijoy could easily retrieve all the information she had learned from her internet memory, though some of the precise terms varied. ¡®Breast stroke¡¯, for example, in Lim Zhi Hao¡¯s mind was ¡®frog swim¡¯, which made much more sense.


    A far more valuable discovery was that she could interact with the memory at her maximum internal speed. Why she hadn¡¯t realized this before, she couldn¡¯t say; perhaps it was the more immersive and personal qualities of the historically important memories, or perhaps she was simply becoming more fluent with handling the input from the library with experience.


    Rather than stay in the library and pile on more memories, Lilijoy had made her way to the pond and run through the lesson, this time in her own body. In less than a minute she received the notification she was a Natural Novice, and after about thirty minutes, she raised that to the Initiate level. She stopped there, but it was clear she could raise her level further with minimal effort, if she wanted. Needless to say, she was thrilled with the notion that she could easily learn any skill she desired with a minimal time investment, but she suspected that the true value would be found in the most expensive Journeyman and Expert level skill memories. Those started at twenty credits and went far higher, well past what she could afford. The lowest Expert level skill she found was Sailing, for sixty credits, which she thought must be a reflection of demand. The Garden was a single continent, and as the Academy was emphatically landlocked, there probably weren¡¯t many people knocking down the library¡¯s doors for that particular skill.


    She was most interested in the Healing skills, but the situation there was disappointing. There were many, many different areas of study, but all of them were focused on specific technical knowledge. She was sure that learning the functional anatomy of desert nagas at a Journeyman level would be absolutely fascinating, but she wasn¡¯t prepared to spend five credits on it. It was relatively inexpensive since it was categorized as incomplete; an element of the larger skill Medical: Healing: Anatomy.


    Didn¡¯t humans spend a year on the Outside studying their own anatomy when they trained to become medical doctors? she had thought at the time. How is it even possible to collect enough species to be considered an Expert?


    If she was going to reach her goal of achieving Expert in Medical: Healing it seemed that the ability of the library to help was limited. She shrugged that off as a minor setback. What was more important was to follow Arpentra¡¯s direction to understand her skills better. She had spent a fair amount of time over the week meditating on the subject, pulling up her character sheet and trying to see deeper within it, trying to perceive some kind of underlying metadata. She feared that the sheet itself was blocking her, but she hadn¡¯t yet come up with a way around the nicely packaged data the Inside supplied for her.


    Still, Lilijoy thought as she considered the past days, it had been a great week. She had become much faster and more efficient with using Nandi¡¯s boon, had spent hours exploring the Trial space. She had retraced the steps of her Trial, had learned that if she had taken the upward leading branch of the cave it would have eventually delivered her to a snowy plateau overlooking a field of bubbling blue pools and geysers, which she recognized as the home to the giant geyser squids that had tormented Anda on his Trial. She had explored the giant cavern, now short one Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster, and found an exit at the far end that led up and up, until it reached an abandoned complex of trap-filled chambers, culminating in the room Magpie had described to her, the one with the statue of the four animals holding source gems.


    She had even found Runk, and followed him around for a while as he aimlessly wandered, looking for someone to help him find his rock. All this viewing did slowly drain her available soul energy, but not nearly so much as moving things in and out of the Trial space. She was cautious in her experimentation as far as that went, once she realized that using her soul energy impacted her own mood. It was a mild effect, one she could easily override with her system, but larger expenditures left her less¡­ alive, somehow. Since she was cultivating a virtuous cycle of positive energy, she wanted to make sure she understood fully before she spent it carelessly, and she was equally cautious when it came to using her system to adjust her mood.


    When she examined her soul vortex while using her system to make arbitrary changes to her emotions, it was quite clear that the induced feelings were qualitatively different. If they showed up at all, they were gauzy, ephemeral. The curiosity she was feeling as she made the changes created a far stronger impression within her soul vortex. It was clear to her that the context of an emotion had more relevance, to her system anyway, than the chemistry. That said, she could kickstart an emotion and then it would impact her behaviors and subsequent feelings, so it was a complicated subject; thus her caution in simply using her system to patch over the feelings created as she drained her reserves.


    On the Outside, her life was simple, though equally full of playful experiments. Now, in addition to her midges, she had a small fleet of houseflies. Their larger form factor was vastly easier to work with, plus she had received the unique experience of tasting with her feet. Adapting her work with the midges to their much bigger cousins was simple, and now she had the ability to deliver larger amounts of her system anywhere within range. The two species worked well together, as the midges were very good at hovering, and the houseflies were fast and nimble. She had also been able to make them at least semi-autonomous, capable of following complicated instructions and decision chains. Wind was still a factor, but no longer a deal-breaker.


    She felt very good about her ability to handle a small group of enemies, to the extent that she was a little scared of what she could do, scared, but also full of anticipation. She and Anda were, once again, in the hovercar traversing the Amazon wastes, now on a mission to pick up Attaboy. Unless they were ambushed, or attacked from vehicles, she thought that the outcome would be inevitable. Once she got a foothold in Sinaloa Territory, there would be no need to retreat, no need to consolidate and plan how to avoid Sinaloa while making their way to Taos. She was going to spread across their lands, liberating as she went.


    Sinaloa isn¡¯t going to know what hit them.


    Now there was something to look forward to.

 Book 3: Chapter 12: Motivation

    Interlude: Markus/Anda


    ¡°Do you remember when you were a teenager and you thought you knew everything?¡±


    Two men were conversing in a virtual instance. One was tall with dark skin, his bald scalp nearly as reflective as his white teeth. The other had enough hair for the both of them. Gray, white and wavy, it stuck out at every angle. Though his face showed the tracks of many years his skin was unblemished and healthy, age and youth residing in harmony on his features.


    ¡°Anda, I can only imagine what it¡¯s like as she gains confidence.¡± Marcus smiled with a hint of sympathy.


    ¡°That¡¯s just it. She actually knows everything. Or close enough. But it¡¯s not close enough, really.¡± He rubbed his forehead with long fingers. ¡°I¡¯m worried about her.¡±


    Marcus raised a bushy eyebrow. ¡°And what else is new? The two of you have stumbled from one crisis to another since day one. You thought she might die from the over-heating incident just last week.¡±


    ¡°That was two weeks ago.¡±


    Marcus waved his hand. ¡°My apologies. Time blurs at my age, you know.¡± He settled back in his chair. ¡°Tea?¡±


    Their setting was idyllic, a table with two chairs set in an English country garden. Anda allowed his cup to be refreshed and took a moment to enjoy the rising fragrance.


    ¡°I¡¯m only thirty,¡± he said, after collecting his thoughts. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. Am I¡­ raising her? Does that even make sense?¡±


    Markus huffed, a sound that was almost a laugh. ¡°I raised two children to adulthood, and one¡­ nearly so. Even with one¡¯s own children, there is a point where you can only watch them from the shore, as it were, yelling instructions sure to be lost in the wind as they drift farther away. Our Lilijoy, well, she is headed to a shore neither of us knows, and we arrived as she was setting off.¡±


    ¡°Nice metaphor.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°But I need her to listen.¡± Anda said. ¡°We¡¯re heading to Sinaloa territory and¡­ well you know what she can do. She¡¯s planning on using her system to carve into their forces, to liberate the serfs there.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve explained why this is a bad idea?¡±


    ¡°Not entirely. Not yet. We still have a ways to go, and she¡¯s¡­ well she¡¯s better now, but there was a while there...¡±


    ¡°You told me last time. It¡¯s entirely normal that a person would change after everything she¡¯s gone through, especially a near death experience.¡±


    Anda sighed. ¡°We don¡¯t have a baseline for what ¡®normal¡¯ is with her. It¡¯s certainly nothing typically¡­¡± he let his voice tail off.


    ¡°Human?¡± Marcus filled in. ¡°Anda, you have the same system in your head. Are you no longer yourself?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s different, Marcus. You know it. She¡¯s already far past what I can do, maybe what I will ever be able to do, and this whole business with the Tier Five...¡±


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s overreaching?¡±


    Anda took a moment to think before answering. ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s the problem. She¡¯s picked my brain for everything I know about Sinaloa, their numbers, armaments and so forth. It¡¯s obvious we wouldn¡¯t stand a chance if they mobilized even a tiny portion of their capacity. She knows what I know, but I don¡¯t understand enough about her abilities to evaluate our chances.¡± He frowned. ¡°There¡¯s much that she¡¯s not telling me about the Tao System. I get little hints, glimmers when I see her in action. Why is she keeping this from me, Marcus?¡±


    Marcus shook his head, his expression sympathetic. ¡°Perhaps you are looking at it the wrong way, Anda. We all have our secrets. After all, don¡¯t we keep vast secrets from her? Secrets that might change her opinion about the course of action she is presently considering?¡±


    ¡°That is entirely different!¡± Anda complained. ¡°Those secrets are not ours to tell. She¡¯ll come to them naturally enough in time.¡±


    ¡°But will she? She doesn¡¯t understand the true nature of the clans, of their... backers, and without that knowledge, she can¡¯t properly assess the risks.¡±


    ¡°So what do you suggest I do then? Do you think she¡¯ll listen to me if I tell her to stop without explaining why?¡±


    Marcus snorted. ¡°Who can say? She¡¯s extremely smart. Perhaps you just need to find the right words.¡±


    Chapter 12: Motivation


    It was the time of mists in the heart of the gardens of Kuroudonain, the time when the vapors that fed the roots of the luscious green rose from the porous floor, spilling over and filling the gentle contours of the terrain. Clusters of ferns and forest grass nestled amid the dwarf plum and cherry trees surrounding the cluster of evergreen shrubs in which Magpie had found shelter.


    As far as she could tell, she was located just off the center of the circular plane that formed the top level of Kuroudonain, above her was only sky, some of it even approaching a blue color.


    No wonder they wanted to live above the clouds, she thought to herself. It¡¯s the only place on the Outside they can pretend things are the way they used to be.


    Even that much required a bit of imagination, that or augsight, she decided. Compared to the vibrant blue sky and white clouds of the Inside, the view from Kuroudonain was washed with sepia hues, the sun more orange than yellow. Still, she was very thankful to have found a peaceful respite from the first few days of thirst and adrenaline. Past the secure lower areas of the vast floating sphere, most of the restrictions were cultural, it seemed. It was simply unthinkable that servants and clan associates, aside from gardeners and technicians, would dare to intrude on the placid retreat belonging to the core members of the clan. No one guarded the entrances, or patrolled the grounds, for why would anyone stray from their appointed place and risk exile or worse?


    It was amazing to her that an entire landscape could be lifted above the Earth. Magpie had never been one to think much about engineering, beyond what she needed for a given mission, but with days and weeks ahead of her, she had to occupy her mind somehow. So far, she had determined that the plants were embedded in a thin layer of aerogel, rather than dirt, which gave the ground beneath her a pleasant resilience underfoot. The mists rose several times a day, and she imagined that their dangling roots were carefully maintained in this way. The bubbling stream that passed a few dozen feet from her hideaway was less than a half an inch deep, though it had been cleverly designed to look much deeper with the use of transparent materials supporting the water.


    It was enough for her to drink her fill when she needed, which was all she could ask for. Disposing of her bodily wastes was a little trickier, as there was no way to bury them. Fortunately, the landscape was dotted with large aerogel ¡®stones¡¯, easy for her to lift and then replace.


    If they ever remodel, someone¡¯s going to get a nasty surprise.


    The time of the mists, especially at night, was when she dared to emerge from hiding. Throughout the day, she had to be alert for the gardeners, and sometimes clan members, wandering through the gardens, but they tended to concentrate near the edges, closer to the clan¡¯s residences. These lined the outside of the lower levels, the outward facing surface of the sphere, where they could have an entire wall in their quarters as a window that allowed them to overlook the world.


    Or so she assumed. She hadn¡¯t come up with any other reason for the upper echelons to reside where they did. The innermost portion of the gardens seemed reserved for those seeking solitude and romantic couples. The mists usually drove those types of visitors away.


    She took advantage of the mists this time to stretch her legs and get a drink from the stream before returning to her shelter. She was eating a food bar, crafted into a delight of chocolate and fruit by her augsenses, when she heard the voices. At first they were distant, covered by the calls of birds, the artificial breezes rustling the leaves and the babbling stream, but soon she could hear them more clearly.


    ¡°But Your Excellency! The others--¡± a nasal male voice complained.


    A different man''s voice responded, deep and resonant. ¡°Not another word! Our position is tenuous enough without engaging in unnecessary conflict. Sam Gor is no better than the wicked clan, and our tensions with Wareta have not abated enough to fight by their side. The Galapagos are too close to Sinaloa territory to risk their displeasure.¡±


    ¡°Surely they would not take the conflict Outside!¡±


    The voices were now close enough for Magpie to hear feet falling on the soft ground and the gentle swish of silk robes. The lord¡¯s voice was calm and quiet when he replied, but Magpie could hear a dangerous edge within his gentle tone.


    ¡°Our clan prospers in peace, Chancellor. Do not let your ear be swayed by the impatient youth of our family. Let the other clans jockey and clash over scraps in that fantasy. We are above it.¡± The footsteps stopped. ¡°Now, please leave me. I wish for solitude.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Excellency,¡± came a chastened reply.


    Magpie heard the rustle of silk and swiftly departing footsteps. There was silence for several minutes. Then the lord¡¯s voice sounded again, breaking the serenity of the garden.


    ¡°Visitor! What brings you to the home of my clan?¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy made a sound of disgust as she abandoned her model. Her intuition about driving through Sinaloa territory in a blaze of glory and liberation was correct, in a way. Just not in a way compatible with her immediate goal of reaching the abandoned Tao Systems facility anytime soon. If she moved hastily, Sinaloa would respond with overwhelming force, and even if the clan limited themselves to conventional weapons, she, Anda and Attaboy would be wiped out in a matter of days.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Her models told her that twelve Tao System users with capabilities roughly equivalent to her own were necessary to neutralize the numbers that would be arrayed against her, and that was with the highly optimistic assumption that Sinaloa had no trump cards. The more she thought about it, the more her plans seemed naive, or at least wildly optimistic.


    At the heart of it was the problem that she couldn¡¯t give the Tao System to just anyone. The system didn¡¯t turn people into saints after all. It helped steer their neurochemistry in healthy directions, gave them better tools for recognizing their own cognitive bias and developing a more informed and enlightened perspective. But once she bestowed it, there was no way to take it back, and no way to control the recipient if they abused it, or began to give it out themselves.


    Or rather, there was a way, but she didn¡¯t possess it. Henry Choi had played her system like a fiddle, and Anda¡¯s too. He had clearly built in safeguards against other¡¯s abuse of the system.


    She pulled up her status


    <table width="367" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353" height="160">


    STATUS: Disciple, First Circle


    <hr>


    Stage One


    Nanobody count: 109,346,734


    Integration: 100%


    Stage Two


    Replication Units: 1302


    FLOPS Equivalent: 10^17.3


    Integration: 81%


    Secondary/Support: 3/4 implemented


    Communications: Internal network


    Sensors: Passive


    RE Reserves: 1.22 kg mixed


    Personal Quantification: Ranking Display


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top" bgcolor="#fff7ed" width="353">


    Options | Logs | Data | Reference | Menu


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The status ranking must be the key. Disciple, First Circle. I wonder if that¡¯s the best circle or the worst circle? I wish Emily had been able to tell me.


    Toward the end of her conversation with Emily, Lilijoy had asked several questions about the Tao System, including about the ranking. Unfortunately, that seemed to be knowledge that ¡®real¡¯ Emily had deemed too sensitive to leave in her fragment. All she learned was that there was a method for assigning the ranks, and that it was part of the external support structure. Since that support structure, if it still existed, was housed in the Taos facility, there was a bit of a catch-22, where Lilijoy needed a higher rank before she could give the systems to others freely, but the best way for her to get to Taos safely was if she could do just that.


    Well, lets be honest here. The best way to get to Taos would be on one of those airships that Anda told me about. Like using the Eagles in Lord of the Rings.


    For some reason, huge zeppelins of various kinds were quite a common sight over parts of Asia and Africa, but were quite rare in the South American continent. Anda had described lifting vessels as much as a kilometer in length, and even mentioned floating cities miles in diameter, technologies enabled by the near ubiquitous use of nano-aerogel composites. According to him, the methods for creating such huge structures were the closely guarded secrets of a handful of clans, none of which had a large foothold in South America where relatively smaller hovercars were common.


    The only other strategy for bypassing Sinaloa¡¯s holdings was to journey by water, an ocean voyage from the former territory of Ecuador up to Northern Mexico. This was¡­ not feasible, as far as Lilijoy could tell. The receding oceans had left coastlines bereft of ports and created miles of impassible terrain around each continent. Not only would they need to find a boat from the one available port on the west coast, but it would need to be large enough to carry the hovercar, for there would certainly be no way to disembark at the end of the voyage. Humanity had turned away from large oceangoing vessels; according to Anda, there were simply no ships of the size they would need remaining.


    She glanced at her prosthetic arm, at the black gem she had formed on her palm over the previous days, a reflection of Nandi¡¯s Boon on her Inside body. While she didn¡¯t know how Tao Systems had built their massive computers out of the material, it hadn¡¯t been hard for her to duplicate some of her own neurocircuitry and house it in her prosthetic arm. The gem was mostly for cosmetic purposes, though it had a secondary functions as antenna and energy storage. She had moved a good portion of the structures for transmitting and receiving external data to her arm, resolving never to risk another brain-melting event. This also allowed her to extend the signal she used to control her fleet of flies, and since the majority of the Tao System elements in her arm were secondary processing units devoted to the purpose of satellite control, it only made sense to keep them close together.


    Her thoughts were interrupted when Anda took the seat across from her.


    ¡°I need to ask about your plans.¡± he said.


    I guess I¡¯m not the only one with concerns.


    She felt torn every time she and Anda approached the topic. It was difficult to imagine how she could explain what she wanted to do in any detail without talking about Stage Two capabilities she wasn¡¯t ready to share with Anda. She had embarked on Stage Two development with no concept of the dangers, but her subsequent conversations with Attaboy and Emily had convinced her that that she had been extremely fortunate to survive the process with her mind intact. She was extremely reluctant to talk about the subject with Anda, afraid she might irrevocably corrupt his mindset in some way. She couldn¡¯t help but think it was her very ignorance which allowed her to make it through, that and her youthful neuroplasticity.


    Yet another thing I¡¯m hoping we can resolve in Taos. They must have figured out some techniques that make the process safe. Safer anyway.


    She didn¡¯t think it was unreasonable to try to hold off until they made it. Except then she had to keep things from Anda, which was starting to look like an impossible task.


    I¡¯m going about this the wrong way, she realized. If my motivations result in feeling trapped or indecisive, the mistake is to engage at the point of struggle. The problem isn¡¯t what I can or can¡¯t do in this situation, what I can or can¡¯t say. The motivations are the problem.


    Motivations. I wonder if¡­


    Her soul vortex was a record, a repository of meaningful experience built into the Tao System. Surely it had uses on the Outside? The Inside hadn¡¯t existed in its current form when the Tao System was designed, so what was the point of collecting it all otherwise?


    She didn¡¯t know what the creators had in mind, but she had an idea of her own.


    She pulled on the diamond color, her system¡¯s shorthand for the flavor of experience she associated with the path of joyful anticipation, and filled her narrative self with the condensed wisdom, the essential meaning of dozens of moments where she had truly grasped the deeper meaning of the emotions. Her mind filled with memories. Not so much the specifics, though they were present; the moment when she realized her body was intact on the Inside and the vistas of potential that feeling had created within her, the instant she realized that Nandi¡¯s Boon accessed the Trial, the first time her Qi and Flash worked together. These moments were there, but the specifics were secondary.


    Instead, she was filled with the essence, the deeper meaning, the sense of forward motion towards, the satisfaction of seeing the horizon approach and knowing, just knowing that it represented her heart¡¯s desire. She took the experience of these past moments and refined it, passed it back to her soul vortex as a new experience, her present moment, creating a virtuous cycle, for her present moment became the latest experience, and the latest experience in turn became her present moment.


    The cycle filled her with light, and her narrative self expanded to take it all in and then contracted into blissful awareness, a breath that pushed her sensations back to her soul vortex. Time was only measured in these internal breaths.


    To step forward is to allow this cycle to be my motivation, so that every action feeds it further.


    She allowed the cycle to recede, to allow other thoughts to enter her mind, thoughts she could test for their compatibility with her path. She looked up into Anda¡¯s dark eyes, saw the concern there.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said.


    He looked surprised. ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been there from the beginning. You saved me when I was dying in the wastes. You fought for me. You¡¯ve helped me over and over again.¡±


    Anda looked mildly embarrassed.


    ¡°Without you, I¡¯d be lost,¡± she continued, not giving him a chance to reply. ¡°And yet, here I am, dragging you into some plan that I haven¡¯t even really shared with you, mostly because I don¡¯t know enough about our systems to know what I should share. So¡­ thank you.¡±


    Anda smiled. ¡°How could I not? Don¡¯t forget all that you have done for me. We have become¡­ family, have we not?¡±


    Lilijoy could only nod, as a rush of warmth filled her, intertwining and reinforcing the emotion she was cycling.


    ¡°And so I thank you in turn,¡± he said. ¡°For caring enough to try and protect me. Despite all you have been through, you are trying to do what seems right to you. I¡­ understand. It is something people do, protect those they care about by withholding painful or dangerous truths.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Of course, usually, it is the elder, ostensibly wiser members of the family trying to spare the young. Although, as I think of it, there were times in my youth where I was careful not to let my Aunt know what I was up to, for her sake at least as much as mine, to spare her needless worry. I must admit, it hurts my pride a little though.¡± He made an exaggerated face of despair and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    ¡°I wanted to wait until we made it to Taos,¡± she explained. ¡°Hoping to find safer methods, or at least some kind of support structure for Stage Two.¡±


    ¡°Well, I have a good sense of just how dangerous building Stage Two can be from watching you. Truly, I haven¡¯t decided if it makes sense for me to try. What I have now already surpasses my old abilities, and, as my people say, a man who has everything is impossible to find, but it is possible to find one who enjoys the things he has. That is a piece of wisdom I find more apt with every passing year.¡±


    He gave Lilijoy a gentle look, as if inviting her to consider whether his words might apply to her. ¡°You should talk to Marcus about these issues. He would be an effective way to escrow information. As an additional benefit he gives pretty good advice.¡±


    Marcus. What a simple solution.


    She knew immediately why she hadn¡¯t thought of it, could trace the habitual constraints on her narrative thought process. Other people, Outsiders in particular, were not really included in her problem solving toolkit. Self-reliance had become an unquestioned core value of hers to the extent that she didn¡¯t even consider them as possible resources.


    It was a blind spot in her cognition that reeked of corruption now that it was exposed. She could track the way it had developed with each successive experience of people abandoning her, chasing her, using her and betraying her. She cycled her diamond energy in the background as she reformulated her thinking.


    ¡°So here¡¯s what I¡¯m thinking now,¡± she said. ¡°My most optimistic forecast for going by ground has us there within eighteen months, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s realistic. There are too many unknowns about Sinaloa¡¯s resistance if the conflict becomes open.¡±


    Anda jumped in. ¡°That¡¯s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I find myself in a similar situation to yours in terms of sharing information. Similar, but not the same.¡± He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and Lilijoy could see he was undergoing some kind of internal struggle.


    Finally he said, ¡°I have more limited options, so allow me to ask you a question. Have you ever wondered why every group across the entire world has adopted approximately the same social structure?¡±


    The question settled across Lilijoy¡¯s mind like rain on a parched field. What struck her was not the question itself, which was something she had indeed wondered about on many occasions, but the context. Connections began to form as she pulled on that context; Anda wouldn¡¯t ask her the question if the answer wasn¡¯t relevant to their current conversation. Asking the question implied there was an answer. Anda was constrained in delivering that answer, perhaps literally unable to tell her for some reason.


    She decided to confirm this line of thought. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you can¡¯t tell me the answer to the question you are implying?¡±


    He nodded.


    Oaths. I knew it. Oh crap.


    She pieced together a rough outline of the situation instantly. If oaths were involved, then the Inside was involved. The social structure of clans wasn¡¯t a natural evolution of human society, it was an external imposition of some kind.


    The Outside leaders bring the Inside back with them. But why would they agree to such a structure?


    It wasn¡¯t difficult for her to arrive at several plausible motives. The Inside was where virtually every system originated. Inside alchemy had become the stand-in for the computer-aided design necessary for most kinds of molecular construction. Different clans had different technologies unique to them. Clans were given access to the resources of the factory-mines.


    These incentives would be more than enough to convince the most powerful Outsiders to do whatever they were asked, or may even be the source of their power, which only begged the question.


    Why would Guardian want this? No, that¡¯s the wrong question. Guardian as a whole could probably care less. This is like what Shadow is doing, but on an entirely different scale. This is a Tier Four, or even a Tier Three subset pulling strings. But why?


    She didn¡¯t know enough about the high level subsets to do more than speculate, but one thing was all too clear. The clans were being manipulated, used as pieces.


    The Outside was the game now.

 Book 3: Chapter 13: Movement

    The Outside was the game.


    Is that overly dramatic? Lilijoy wondered. It¡¯s probably overly simplistic anyway. I need more information before I make any conclusions. But why else would a corporation like Walden adopt a clan structure? Or a group like Lonestar? Peer pressure? It just makes too much sense.


    She returned her attention to Anda. ¡°There are a whole bunch of things I¡¯m not going to know for sure until I get to Purgatory, aren¡¯t there?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± he replied. ¡°That¡¯s one of the reasons I wanted to encourage you to slow down, on the Outside anyway. We need to get Attaboy, that¡¯s for sure, but pushing against the clans at this point¡­ well, it¡¯s just too early. I¡¯ve been part of an organization working to undermine the clans for a while now, and it¡¯s not as simple as it seems. Even if it doesn¡¯t seem simple.¡±


    ¡°So how does Renaissance fit into all of this?¡±


    Lilijoy rarely asked Anda about the secretive organization. He was privy to many of their secrets, and she wasn¡¯t, and she accepted that. Renaissance had had plenty of opportunities to capture her or otherwise meddle, and she was reasonably convinced of their neutrality where she was concerned.


    ¡°Well, they¡¯re not a clan by another name, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡± he replied. ¡°They believe people can learn to think better, that there needs to be a critical mass of people who have learned to use their systems to overcome the innate biases of human thought. Otherwise, the social and political cycles that got humanity into this mess will continue to self-perpetuate.¡±


    This was not news to Lilijoy. Renaissance seemed to share the same basic concept as Henry Choi had when he was building the Tao System, though his system had more powerful tools. Renaissance¡¯s approach was a technology of thought, a method as much as anything, while Choi¡¯s was more direct. More dangerous.


    She was still cycling the energy of joyful anticipation in the background, and that allowed her to understand that neither approach was appropriate for her. That, in fact, the entire subject of somehow rescuing humanity from itself was not a part of her path, not now anyway. Without realizing it, she had allowed herself to feel more and more responsible for fixing things, somehow adopting Henry Choi¡¯s legacy.


    I¡¯m not ready for that, she realized. I need to grow before I can even think about taking on that much. I need goals that match my path, that match who I am now.


    Her original goal remained simple; she wanted to restore a forest, and that still resonated. Now her other goal was just as simple.


    I want to follow this path, to see where it leads.


    The path was the goal. While it was almost painfully clich¨¦d, she felt a wonderful kind of movement from the concept as it applied to her, similar to the movement present in the very first paradox Anda had shown her; a path that led to itself, but moved ever forward.


    Without meaning to, she dropped back into cycling the energy from her soul vortex. The feeling of excitement about following the path, her path, flowed through her as she held the concepts in her mind, and with it came insights. Movement along the path was not like movement through space, not movement within a dimension, but rather movement of a dimension.


    The insight made perfect sense for the barest moment and then was devoured by the cycle, but it didn¡¯t matter, for on its heels came another, that the way she perceived her emotions was through the lens of her emotions.


    I can use my path to change the way I perceive my past, she realized. I can take negative experiences and give them a different emotional context.


    She pulled forth the traumatic terror of being mauled by the mooster-beast, the wild dog that had chased her through the cutting shards of the piles, pulled it forth and twisted it, inverting it through the expanded dimension of her path. It was stubborn, a black, curdled foulness like clotted blood that clogged the cycling diamond energy.


    She was more stubborn, surrounding it with context of all that had flowed from that moment. There was no joyful anticipation in the moment of shock and visceral horror, but she manipulated and reframed, stretched the moment through time to meet her present self, realized in so doing that she changed nothing, for such moments never stopped on their own. It had been with her all along, eternally happening in some dark corner of her mind, suppressed to the barest filament by her system but always waiting for a moment to reemerge and engage its vicious cycle.


    A bit of her narrative self realized that this, this was the eternal truth behind all the undying enemies of fiction, the monsters that lurched back to life just when the hero breathed a sigh of relief. The emotional mind was in many ways an eternal present, a memory wormhole to the past. For just another instant she saw her soul vortex in that context, time converted to shape and intensity, and she thought she saw the edge of a greater structure emerge.


    Then the moment passed, as she engaged in a struggle between two self-perpetuating processes, as she realized that resurrecting this trauma from her past might have been a mistake, that her path was not yet developed enough. Doubt fed higher-level fear back to her soul vortex, engorging the putrid memories, and the dog prepared to bite, teeth tearing flesh now and forever.


    I¡¯ve got to shut this down! she thought in panic. She reached to her system, to activate cascades of soothing neurochemicals, to push the trauma back into its corner. It wasn¡¯t enough to overcome the powerful meaning of the moment; trying to contain the profound significance of helplessness, of mortality and the frailty of flesh with low-level emotional input was like adding water to an oil fire. The substance spread, reaching out to other memories, other traumas, to recruit them, and she knew that soon the teeth beneath her skin would soon be grasping fingers, that the torn flesh would be her psyche ripped by Eskallia¡¯s glyph.


    She fought back with the cycle of her diamond energy, surrounding the emotional tumor, isolating it in walls of context, trying to introduce new meaning into the framework of suffering. It was the pivotal step on her journey, the pain that led to progress. It was the death of one self and the beginning of the next. It was¡­ necessary.


    But there was no joy in that context, only causality. The meaning of that moment resisted her attempts at subversion. This is what happens, it said. This is what happens when you venture into the dark. This is what you have to look forward to inevitably: pain, deformity and loss. The past is the future, and everything else a fleeting pleasure between walls of anguish. You are bounded by walls of suffering, and any space between those walls is an illusion.


    A new cycle began to take root in her mind, feeding off the dark energy. This is the true meaning of existence, meaningless suffering. All statements are false: For this statement to be false, it only needs one exception, which is itself.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Her distant narrative consciousness recognized this paradox and found a thousand answers. But none of them were her answer. The wisdom of centuries of human minds was a flimsy shield from the power of her own self turned against her. She felt the temptation then. She could own this darkness, make it her own and step forward on a new path, spreading the truth of futility, that all would be consumed.


    But then what?


    Consumed!


    But then what?


    Death.


    Life.


    And then she understood. Her path was only meaningful in the context of the other. The opposition was real, but the struggle was not.


    Feed my roots, she thought at her trauma. Feed my light, she thought at the darkness, and you will be fed in turn.


    The darkness surrounded the light, and it represented¡­ potential. Emptiness to be filled. It was a timeless truth, but it had no meaning unless invested with her own experience. Suffering had meaning in the context of living, and if she framed it just right, twisted it along the axis of meaning she had used to incorporate Rosemallow¡¯s training, it came to define the edges of all that was good.


    With a roar, her path intensified as she felt the joy inherent in her new understanding. Or was it the increased depth of her old understanding? Either way, she felt each victory feed into her anticipation of what was to come, now that she understood her traumas as the fertilizer for future joy. That the converse was true no longer bothered her, for those future traumas would only be yet more fertilizer and the cycle would continue until she existed no more.


    Well, that was¡­ something! Who knew processing one little trauma would cause all that? she thought as the crisis within herself subsided.


    She opened her eyes, remembering she had been in the middle of a conversation with Anda. He was looking back at her with an expression of concern and confusion.


    ¡°Ahh¡­ did something just happen?¡± he asked. ¡°I thought I might need to get the cold packs out again for a moment. Was it something I said?¡±


    She laughed at that and then checked her internal clock and saw that just under ten seconds had passed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for spacing out like that. I had an... insight, and it got more involved than I expected.¡±


    ¡°It must have been some insight! You were practically glowing for a moment.¡± He cocked his head. ¡°That¡¯s odd¡­ my system memory didn¡¯t quite capture what I thought I saw.¡± He shook himself a little. ¡°Anyway, putting aside all that for a moment, I think I have a better way to get us to Taos.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Lilijoy said, while doing her best to incorporate what she had just experienced. The part of her mind on the Inside had withdrawn from there almost entirely, and she put a small amount of attention back there while Anda spoke.


    ¡°I think I know how to get us an airship.¡±


    ***


    On the Inside, Lilijoy strode with purpose in search of her trainer. For once, her trainer was looking for her too.


    ¡°There you are!¡± the Oni bellowed across the training field. ¡°What have you done now?¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that, which was par for the course with many of Rosemallow¡¯s communications. The sun was briefly eclipsed by her trainer¡¯s enormous body as she leapt to where Lilijoy had halted. Lilijoy knew by now that if she timed her own leap right, she wouldn¡¯t be knocked off her feet by the minor seismic event that coincided with her trainer¡¯s landing, so she took to the air for a half second.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you go flying away from me!¡± Rosemallow yelled, grabbing her out of the air with a giant taloned hand. ¡°Have you been forgetting to check your notifications?¡±


    Her grasp was just loose enough for Lilijoy to squeeze out a reply. ¡°No... I mean yes.. I like to save them up. It¡¯s... more fun that way.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s more of an ass-pain for me! I¡¯m beginning to regret helping you with your experience. Do you know what a headache it is to be hit with that much all at once? Well?¡±


    I swear, she¡¯s trained my patience at least as much as my muscles, Lilijoy thought.


    ¡°No?¡± is what she said out loud.


    Rosemallow let loose a huge sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you would. Let me look at you.¡±


    While Lilijoy squeezed her eyes shut to escape the red glare of Rosemallow¡¯s inspection, she quickly rifled through her notifications, as it seemed the prudent thing to do.


    <hr>


    You have learned a skill!


    Pottery: Natural Novice


    <hr>


    That one was from a couple days ago.


    <hr>


    You have raised a skill!


    Paper Making raised to Natural Apprentice.


    <hr>


    Well that one was easy! Must have been the paper for the giant kites.


    <hr>


    You have raised a skill!


    Gliding/Flight raised to Upgraded Apprentice


    <hr>


    Looks like jumping off the Academy finally paid off! she thought.


    <hr>


    You have raised a skill!


    Disguise raised to Natural Initiate


    <hr>


    Why did that one go up? she wondered. Then she saw the next one. Ah, here we go...


    <hr>


    The Next Step


    You have placed another foot upon a path


    <hr>


    Which was immediately followed by...


    <hr>


    Your Journey Begins


    You walk, cycling essence with each step


    <hr>


    ¡°What the hell have you been doing?¡± Rosemallow shrieked in a voice entirely less dignified than her usual bellow. ¡°It¡¯s too soon for you to be cycling your path! It¡¯s too soon for you to even be on a path! One foot on your Path, fine. Lots of folks do that. But this? In the Garden?.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Lilijoy said, feeling a little disgruntled, ¡°it would help if someone, I don¡¯t know, actually told me anything? It¡¯s bad enough I need to figure out everything by myself on the Outside.¡±


    Rosemallow took a deep breath. ¡°Every student feels that way, at times. Struggle leads to strength, and foundation is built with the bricks of hard won insight.¡± She put Lilijoy down. ¡°That said, the situation you find yourself in is not of your own making. You were forced to grow before your time by Eskallia¡¯s meddling, and my own efforts to control your advancement have backfired. The Garden is supposed to be a place to learn and grow in relative safety. Its system of numbers, levels, stats and so forth, is arbitrary, though it does loosely correspond to real growth. The experience awarded, the points spent, all of that, is an effect, a measure of the true growth that will be valuable¡­ later. But it¡¯s not a perfect measure by any means, particularly for Outsiders.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m guessing the imperfections typically work the opposite way than they have for me, right?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°Outsiders don¡¯t¡­ deserve the powers they get in the Garden?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far,¡± Rosemallow answered. ¡°After all, it takes most Outsiders years, decades even, to achieve the growth they need to move on to Purgatory. Some are truly talented and insightful. They progress smoothly. Others may never get past level thirty. Their experience stagnates. The Garden acts as a filter, passing through those who can truly contribute.¡±


    Guess some alien awarenesses are more fruitful than others.


    ¡°So what does this all mean for me, now?¡±


    ¡°Well, it means we¡¯ve got to try something different. Typically, someone wouldn¡¯t find their path until well after their foundation was established. Only a tiny portion of Outsiders find a path at all. You seem to be playing by a different set of rules entirely; you don¡¯t have a strong foundation, and yet you are already well along your path. I¡¯m still thinking about how to help you, but it¡¯s certainly useless to keep doing what I¡¯ve been doing. I can¡¯t keep holding back experience from you, that¡¯s for sure. Even if I wanted to, it¡¯s taxing my abilities, getting downright uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°Will this be like what you did in Averdale?¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the problem. You see, there¡¯s value in being able to connect actions to results. Under level twenty, it doesn¡¯t matter much, but I¡¯m holding far more than that for you. So what we¡¯ll do moving forward is release it a bit at a time. Every time you earn experience for something, I¡¯ll match it with an equal amount. How¡¯s that sound?¡±


    Wait¡­ did she just ask me my opinion?


    ¡°That sounds fantastic.¡± Lilijoy replied.

 Book 3: Chapter 14: Capital

    A man walked down a cobbled street. Dressed in robes of white and gold he had already attracted the attention of a small group of children who followed him down the street whispering among themselves. Soon they were joined by more, as word spread that one of the Revered had come to town.


    The man turned to give the children a benign smile while fumbling at the pouch by his side. Soon, he was dropping small wrapped candies in his wake, and the children scrambled for the sweets. He pretended to be oblivious to the chaos behind him, all the while dropping a seemingly endless supply of sugary goodness. Adult citizens of the small town began to emerge from their shops and homes, and it wasn¡¯t long before the whole procession became a parade of sorts, led by the seemingly clueless man as the spectators cheered and waved.


    Long before the group reached the market square, the cheering and the delighted cries of the children was audible to the vendors working their stalls. Weaver Sennit heard the commotion as he put the final touches on the elegant braids of the young woman sitting in front of him.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked, alarmed something had gone awry with her magic hairdo. When she looked back, she saw the old man gathering his belongings.


    ¡°Tell the rest of them to come back later,¡± he called over his shoulder as he headed over the Mrs. Chang¡¯s dumpling stand.


    ¡°Trouble,¡± was all he said.


    ¡°I can still hear, you know,¡± Mrs. Chang replied. ¡°It¡¯s just another Revered. Stay calm and he¡¯ll go away in a day or two.¡±


    ¡°¡¯Sposed to be months before another visit. The clans are catching on,¡± he said, shaking his head.


    ¡°Maybe so, but nothing we can do about it. I¡¯ll log out and message Anda.¡±


    Mrs. Chang crouched out of sight behind her counter and disappeared.


    Guess the Inside doesn¡¯t see the threat the way we do, thought Mr. Sennit. Logging out was a famously unpredictable action, with a variety of possible outcomes for the Inside avatar that ranged from vanishing, to the appearance of unconsciousness, to being replaced by a bot with a limited script of behaviors. Generally speaking though, the safer the situation and the less eyes, the more likely a full disappearance. He figured the Inside just liked to keep everyone on their toes.


    Now let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got this time, he thought, turning to see the parade of Insiders fill the square. It was the man leading them who had his full attention. The Revered were the clan¡¯s public face to the Tier Seven Insiders, members who, with the help of their clans, had maximized their reputation among the untempered masses.


    This particular Revered had a round, smiling face under straight black hair. He was gently detaching himself from the children while speaking over their heads to the gathering adults. Mr. Sennit couldn¡¯t make out what he was saying over the clamor of voices, but he could see hands gesturing and fingers pointing in his direction.


    Oh boy. I should have logged out when I had the chance.


    He contemplated making a break for it, but he knew this was a conversation he shouldn¡¯t avoid. It wouldn¡¯t be hard for a Revered to make his life difficult in the future, even though his own reputation with the Tier Sevens wasn¡¯t half bad. He didn''t depend on Insiders for much of his living, but there was no telling what could happen to some of his other friends if the clans decided to crack down.


    ¡°Nice day!¡± he called out as the man approached. ¡°Nice robes!¡±


    Loom weaving definitely wasn¡¯t his thing, but it didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t appreciate a nice piece of craftsmanship when he saw it. The white robes were silk, embroidered in gold, and he sensed powerful enchantments had been applied to them. He didn¡¯t use Scan though, in case the Revered was looking for a reason to take offense.


    The man kept a smile on his face as he placed a hand on Mr. Sennit¡¯s shoulder and pulled him around to face away from the crowded square. Leaning his head in, he spoke in a low, friendly voice.


    ¡°Look, you lowlife scum. I wasted an entire day to come here. We¡¯ll get back to that in a moment. This hair thing¡¯s a new wrinkle, so local leadership wants to be nice to you. I disagree, but I¡¯m just the messenger, eh?¡± He elbowed Mr. Sennit in the ribs, just a little too hard. ¡°Here¡¯s your golden opportunity.¡±


    He went on to explain that if Mr. Sennit provided his services to the students from Hongse, Shin, Hindutva and Walden clans for free, he might be willing to overlook it if other clans were charged a few silver.


    ¡°Of course, you just can¡¯t do this for anyone who¡¯s not clan affiliated. If I hear about that happening, things will escalate.¡±


    It had been a couple years since Mr. Sennit had spoken with a clan member, other than the students. This conversation made him feel weak and a little nauseous as four decades of humiliation and subjugation came roaring back.


    Thank God they can¡¯t get to me Outside anymore, he thought. If only I could have paid off the kid¡¯s debts, I could tell this guy where to shove it for real.


    He had found a new home at a small, independent land-reclaiming collective. There he was free to live how he wanted, as he provided a source of cash flow unavailable to most of the other residents. He paid them for shelter and simple services with real credits they could use to augment their meager existence. In turn, he got to swim and fish and do everything he wanted.


    For the most part, he was saving credits to pay off the debt of his children and grand-children. That was still years away even with his newly robust income, as he felt it prudent to pay them off all at them same time.


    His biggest fear was that he would die before that happened. Or maybe that was his second biggest fear, as his biggest fear was occurring exactly now. He ran some numbers in his head, speculating as best he could on just how much of his income he was about to lose, how many years it would add to his family¡¯s bondage.


    Meanwhile the Revered was still talking. ¡°Speaking of escalating, I think it¡¯s only fair that I¡¯m duly compensated for this waste of a day. I¡¯m sure you thought you could get away with working against Corp interest due to your location, but all you¡¯ve really done is caused me personal inconvenience.¡±


    Mr. Sennit could only marvel at how the man kept his tone so friendly as he began the process of squeezing him for credits.


    ¡°I have only a handful of silver to offer, my lord,¡± he said, hating himself for the genuine quaver in his voice as he kissed the man¡¯s ass for all he was worth.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a terrible surprise!¡± said the Revered. ¡°I heard you were charging as much as ten silver per person. Whatever could have happened to cause you to lose all that money?¡±


    Shit. Clan students have been talking. Oh well, it was worth a try.


    ¡°Hey!¡± A rough voice interrupted their little tete-a-tete. ¡°That¡¯s my Outsider. What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Anda stood a few feet away, his hands on his hips and a snarl on his lip. The Revered turned to survey well over six feet of leather-clad half orc and broke into an enormous smile.


    ¡°My dear sir! I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    Mr. Sennit could only chortle inwardly. He takes him for an Insider. This should be fun to watch.


    Playing off of Anda¡¯s cue, Mr. Sennit pretended to grovel. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, noble Urglah. I¡¯ll have the rest of your money for you very soon, I promise.¡±


    ¡°Maybe your friend here can cover for you.¡± Anda said, his hand drifting down to the spiked ironwood club hanging from his belt. ¡°I could take those pretty white robes in payment.¡±


    A burly shopkeeper intervened. ¡°Don¡¯t speak to Lord Tremblay that way!¡± he said, pushing between Anda and the Revered. The crowd in the square muttered in agreement.


    ¡°My mistake,¡± said Anda, as reputation loss notifications flooded his internal awareness. ¡°I thought perhaps someone so noble and virtuous might be willing to help his good friend, Mr. Sennit.¡± This prompted more murmurings in the square, and a few reputation gains for Mr. Sennit.


    This put the Revered in something of a bind. ¡°Now let¡¯s not be hasty. Perhaps this matter would best be discussed in private.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not complicated,¡± Anda said. ¡°Are you going to help your less fortunate friend or not? I¡¯m sure someone with your reputation for generosity would assist an elderly tradesman.¡±


    The Revered got a bit red in the face. ¡°Perhaps the best way to protect my friend here would be to have you banned from Academy town.¡±


    There were some nods from the crowd. ¡°That might be easy, but would it be fair?¡± asked Anda. ¡°I¡¯d hate to see Academy Town start banning people just because they asked for what they were owed. Or perhaps it¡¯s because of my race?¡±


    The Revered sputtered for a moment. Due to its proximity to the Academy, Academy Town was known for its laws regarding tolerance and race. In many human villages around the Garden, a half-orc such as Anda would run into much more hostility and distrust. Finally he came to a decision.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s truly none of my business what has passed between the two of you. Honoring one¡¯s debts is part of having a well ordered society, and its not my place to intervene. In fact, I was just discussing a debt owed to me by our mutual friend, which I have decided to forgive in full. I wonder if you can do the same?¡± He leaned back with a small smile, confident he had regained the momentum in their public discussion.


    Mr. Sennit could barely keep himself from laughing out loud. Anda smiled in reply and applied his finishing move. He bowed deeply to the Revered.


    ¡°Your wisdom and goodness has opened my eyes and lifted my spirit!¡± he said. ¡°Not only will I forgive what he owes, but I will return what he has already paid and protect him with my life hereforth.¡± He pulled forth a gold coin and gave it to Mr. Sennit with a wink.


    There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled townspeople. Anda and Mr. Sennit both received notifications of reputation gain. In the background, several of the Fogeys who were present in the market square had awed expressions, other than Mrs. Chang, who was doubled over in silent laughter. The Revered became aware that expectant eyes were upon him.


    He drew himself up and plastered a smile on his face. ¡°What a wonderful gesture!¡± he proclaimed. ¡°I suppose the matter is concluded. Now, please go about your days, while I have a word with Mr. Sennit.¡±


    As the crowd began to disperse, the Revered drew Mr. Sennit to the side again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the hell that was,¡± he said, no longer bothering to keep his voice friendly. ¡°But rest assured--¡± he broke off as he noticed Anda standing nearby listening. ¡°Do you mind?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I have sworn to protect this esteemed tradesman,¡± Anda replied. ¡°Even if he himself were to ask me to leave, I would stay by his side.¡±


    The man looked at Anda with cold eyes. ¡°I know you are tempered,¡± he said. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten a rep notification from you yet. So believe me when I say you will come to regret your actions very much if you do not do as you are asked.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps as much as you might regret it when I bring my entire tribe to interfere with you and your assigned tasks,¡± Anda threatened in return. ¡°I imagine your clan might look on that as a problem you have created. How many resources do you think they might be willing to spend to remedy your ineptitude? Or you can leave this man alone. I imagine there could even be a reasonable personal compensation for you, if you were willing to look the other way.¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not that easy,¡± he said, ¡°or I would be a much richer than I am. The Corp will continue to hear reports from the students of various clans at the Academy.¡±


    ¡°Can I just ask,¡± said Mr. Sennit, ¡°Why? Why keep me from making an honest living? Why do the clans even care if a few independents flourish here or there?¡±


    The man blinked. ¡°Like I would know? It¡¯s just common sense, I suppose, keeping the competition down. Look,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯ll level with you. The best thing you could do for yourself is find a clan to take you on. I¡¯m sure mine would be happy to take you as an associate and give you a decent wage. Then all these problems go away, see?¡±


    ¡°And how much do you think your clan would pay?¡± Anda asked.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say. More than he¡¯s going to make if we escalate things, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t buy it,¡± Anda said, folding his arms. ¡°Short of turning the townsfolk against him, what can you do? You Outsiders can¡¯t attack each other. He can just move out of town and work from there.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The Revered laughed. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t want to see what comes after me. I¡¯m sweetness and light compared to those guys. I¡¯ve got a reputation to protect after all. So consider this your final warning, since you¡¯ve made this a huge pain in my ass. Play along, or join up.¡±


    ¡°Or what?¡± asked Anda.


    ¡°Or we¡¯ll send in the Reprobates.¡±


    ***


    Magpie kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.


    Maybe this is all a hallucination while I¡¯m actually plummeting to a watery grave, she mused. That seems about equally likely.


    Visitor, what brings you to the home of my clan? the man had asked. Right then, Magpie had known that her life was done. Game over. Had known it in her gut. Caught in the heart of the clan¡¯s most private area, by one of the leaders of the clan, there was no way to run or fight her way out. Clan leaders were Rank Tens, every possible part of their body augmented to the fullest extent, weapons of mass destruction in human form.


    Still, some small part of her had irrational hope. Maybe he¡¯s talking to someone else, she could remember thinking. Maybe he¡¯s lived so long he¡¯s senile, and just says random things when no one¡¯s around. Another small part of her began to speculate, to wonder why the man had waited until he was alone to speak.


    She leaned back in the steam chamber, savoring the heat and enjoying the fact that she was clean for the first time in days. She still hadn¡¯t ruled out the idea that the clan leader, Lord Josho, was senile. She couldn¡¯t come up with a more plausible reason for why the old man, old in mind if not in appearance, had spared her. Not only spared her, but made her an honored guest.


    People don¡¯t do things like that unless there¡¯s something deeply wrong with them. Or unless they want something.


    What she could possibly offer to the leader of an entire clan was beyond her. Her talent set was somewhat valuable, she supposed, but he hadn¡¯t known about that when he spared her.


    Well, other than the fact that I was able to get where I was in the first place.


    She had been expecting an interrogation on that subject. Surely the clan would want to know how a stowaway had made it onboard so they could close the hole in their security. But no. Nothing at all on the subject. Instead, Lord Josho had asked her about her childhood, about her nonexistent family, about what she liked to do, what she liked to eat. She had been so surprised, she hadn¡¯t even bothered to lie. Much.


    Then he had brought her to the guest quarters pavilion and instructed the servants to attend to her every need. She was getting the royal treatment with nothing asked in return, and it upset every fiber of her being. Even before she was brought to the guest quarters, she had been suspicious enough to ask Lord Josho if he had any connection to the Flock, a flagrant breach of secrecy on her part. It was the only reason she could imagine why she had not been imprisoned, interrogated and executed. But the Lord had denied knowing anything about the organization, and she certainly wasn¡¯t prepared to push him on the subject.


    It left her with impossibilities though.


    Perhaps he¡¯s so detached from reality by ruling for so long that he doesn¡¯t think like a normal person anymore. Maybe I¡¯m like a baby bird he found in his park, and he has a soft heart.


    ¡°Yeah right,¡± she said out loud.


    ¡°Did you require anything, Miss?¡± came a voice from the adjoining chamber.


    ¡°No, thanks. Just talking to myself.¡±


    God, this place is weird.


    ¡°You know, on second thought, do you have a pod I could use?¡± she asked.


    ***


    Playing back her conversation with Rosemallow, Lilijoy realized the crucial point she had missed in her pleasure at being taken just a bit more seriously by her trainer.


    She said she was still thinking about how to help me. I should have run the second those words came out of her mouth.


    ¡®Help¡¯ and Rosemallow was a frightening semantic conjunction. Not only that, but her trainer was, evidently, in a bit of a hurry to shed all of the experience she was carrying around on Lilijoy¡¯s behalf, claiming it made her feel bloated.


    Thus, one extremely harrowing instanced travel later, featuring a pleasant jaunt through a fire wasp nest hanging over the edge of the caldera of an active volcano, Lilijoy, a still quite singed Skria, and Jessila were standing next to a jubilant Rosemallow at the entrance to a labyrinth. The labyrinth, to hear Rosemallow tell it.


    ¡°Do you know how long it¡¯s been since I didn¡¯t get an air theme?¡± Rosemallow was asking. No reply was necessary, or expected. ¡°I¡¯ve got to bring students along more often! And now we¡¯re here!¡±


    Lilijoy and Jess exchanged glances. ¡°Yay?¡± Lilijoy offered weakly. Skria shivered, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if it was due to her greatly reduced fur covering or the ambiance of their setting. The air was thick with moisture, cold and stagnant. Water on blackened brambles all around dripped into the pools at their feet. Lilijoy could feel tiny bubbles of gas rising between her toes where she stood, her weight releasing the breath of ancient decay.


    ¡°Just like old times!¡± Rosemallow proclaimed with a grin. ¡°It should be just over there.¡± She waved her hand toward a mound of earth protruding from the vast bog surrounding them. Behind that mound, Lilijoy could see others, rising progressively into the foggy distance. A few skeletal trees did their best to break the monotony of rolling swamp.


    ¡°I¡¯m missing classes. Are you sure this is approved by my advisor?¡± asked Skria through chattering teeth.


    Rosemallow glanced over at Lilijoy and gave her a wink. ¡°The old windbag was thrilled when I told her you¡¯d have a crack at this place. No one¡¯s been here for a century. I can¡¯t wait to see how it¡¯s¡­ evolved.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re coming with us?¡± asked Lilijoy.


    Rosemallow scoffed. ¡°Of course not. Hand holding won¡¯t do you any favors.¡± She looked up at close-hovering clouds and took a deep breath. ¡°No, I¡¯ll be waiting for you at the end.¡± She turned back to the three students and unleashed an evil grin. ¡°Just like old times.¡±


    With that she crouched down and leapt, leaving a small crater of gurgling mud behind.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t talk to Dean Reunification, did she?¡± Skria said.


    ¡°I doubt it.¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°But I¡¯m really glad you came along.¡±


    ¡°Well, it seems like a pretty unique opportunity. No one will be trying to capture us this time, and we get to explore a little piece of history. At least that was the impression I got while your trainer was kidnapping me.¡±


    ¡°Yeahhh, sorry about that part. All I did was ask if you could come too.¡±


    ¡°We should start walking,¡± Jessila said. ¡°Do you know where we are going?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± replied Lilijoy. ¡°I have a really bad feeling that I do.¡±


    ***


    It didn¡¯t take them long to reach their destination. Upon approach, the mound of earth protruding from the bog appeared more regular in shape, almost a dome. Lilijoy could see hints of stone blocks showing through layers of moss and accumulated filth, as well as roots like vines draping themselves along the rounded sides.


    ¡°Door,¡± Jessila said, pointing to an encrusted hollow around the side of the structure from where they stood.


    The thick, cold air of the bog-lands seemed to resist attempts at speech. Even Skria had remained silent over the course of their trek across the grasping mud and tufted grasses. The distant calls of ravens drifted by and twice a forlorn howl had reached their ears, the only signs that the area was not bereft of life. Lilijoy could appreciate the desolate beauty of the setting to some extent, but the clammy sensation of the air stripping the warmth from her body dampened her enthusiasm for any future visits.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°I think it used to be Rosemallow¡¯s¡­ lair,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°From when she was evil. More evil,¡± she amended.


    Jessila nodded. ¡°She told me no one has been here for generations. Then she said we¡¯d all probably regret this.¡±


    Sounds about right, Lilijoy thought. ¡°Let¡¯s hope she was just trying to scare us.¡±


    ¡°I am already regretting many things,¡± Skria said. ¡°First cooked, now this.¡± She shook herself to shed droplets of condensation from her fur. ¡°Why bring us after all this time?¡±


    Jess wiped her face and neck with a broad, callused hand and shrugged.


    ¡°I think she wants me to earn as much experience as possible in a short amount of time,¡± Lilijoy supplied. ¡°Maybe she was saving it for the right moment?¡±


    The door was almost as overgrown as the rest of the structure. They did their best to clear it off, which took some effort, as it was almost eight feet in height, two solid, unmarked slabs of stone with only the faintest crack between them. As more of the entry was revealed, it also became clear that the entire structure had sunk into the bog. The bottom of the door was nowhere to be found.


    ¡°Oh well,¡± said Skria. ¡°Looks like--¡±


    She was interrupted by Jessila throwing herself against the entry. There was a dull thud upon impact, and Lilijoy thought she saw a faint hint of movement.


    ¡°Hold on, Jess,¡± she said. ¡°Let me take a look.¡±


    With her Earthen Sense she could make out the structure of the door, the immense stone hinges set on the inside. The chamber beyond was rounded, an echo of the dome structure containing it and she could make out a single column of stone in the center. She could barely discern an empty space beyond the back wall, though there was no door she could see leading to it.


    ¡°I just wanted to make sure it was worth possibly breaking your shoulder,¡± she relayed to Jess when she was finished. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything holding them closed, and they do open inward.¡±


    Thus encouraged, Jessila continued to throw her body against the door. After several tries, and a few healings, the crack between the doors parted. With one final rush, the doors opened entirely, releasing a small flood of muddy water into the chamber, and a musty smell of mold and old death out.


    In the center of room, Lilijoy could now see the column was a pedestal. Sitting upon it was a shriveled, black skull, still adorned with strands of long black hair. Upon reluctant closer inspection, lumps of some black stone had been placed in the eyes and mouth.


    The three of them stood around the skull for a minute as more water seeped around their toes. A thick white scum of dust and what Lilijoy guessed was powdered bone formed broad rings around the base of the pedestal, pushed there by the encroaching flood. The room had no other features, just curving walls of dark bricked stone that met almost twelve feet above their heads.


    ¡°Now what?¡± asked Skria.


    ¡°Well, this was Rosemallow¡¯s creation. Whatever we¡¯re supposed to do, it will probably be horrible,¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°And painful,¡± added Jess.


    ¡°It must have something to do with this skull. Maybe someone should pick it up?¡± Skria said.


    Jess turned her head to look at Skria where she sat upon her shoulder.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Skria said. ¡°I guess I meant, maybe Jess should pick it up.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Jessila said. ¡°Yuck.¡±


    She took one long step forward and poked at the skull tentatively. Lilijoy instinctively braced herself, but there was no response, other than the faint sound of old bone scraping across the stone top of the pedestal.


    What did I think was going to happen? It¡¯s not like the skull¡¯s going to come to life or something; Emily got rid of that kind of stuff.


    With a shudder, Jess picked up the skull at her maximum arm length.


    ¡°It¡¯s light,¡± she observed.


    ¡°I was hoping there would be something underneath,¡± said Lilijoy. She had to hop up and down to see that the top of the pedestal was bare stone. The scummy water splashed around her ankles. ¡°Is there anything inside it?¡±


    ¡°Just more rock.¡± Jessila turned the skull and tried to look more closely while still holding the skull at arm¡¯s length.


    Skria climbed along Jessila¡¯s arm for a closer look. ¡°What kind of stone is that?¡±


    ¡°Can I put it down now?¡± asked Jess.


    Once Lilijoy looked closely at the black stone, she thought she knew what might be going on.


    ¡°Guys, I think that¡¯s coal. Or jet. Same thing, I guess. Maybe we¡¯re supposed to burn it?¡±


    Skria looked at her skeptically. ¡°What do you think that will do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Rosemallow¡¯s an earth mage. Maybe she did something to it.¡±


    They spent another minute surveying the area, to rule out any other possibilities they may have missed, before finally agreeing that lighting the skull and coal on fire was worth a try. Soon the skull looked like a nasty black egg perched in a nest of kindling. Jessila lit it with a few strikes from her flint and steel, and they all stepped back to watch the magic happen.


    After a few moments, Skria was the first to speak.


    ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s working.¡±


    Aside from the smell of smoke and a few strands of burning hair, the skull seemed entirely unperturbed. It wasn¡¯t long before the last bits of kindling fell to ash and the flames extinguished.


    ¡°You¡¯d think she would have made it easier to get in,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°As I understand it, she used to imprison people in the labyrinth and feed off of their struggles. Why make it so difficult?¡±


    Jessila huffed. ¡°Bait. Rescuing,¡± she hesitated, as if thinking it through. ¡°Never easy,¡± she concluded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± said Skria. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to struggle to get into the trap?¡±


    ¡°And then struggle even harder to get out. Sounds about right.¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Which makes me a little worried about what we¡¯re actually supposed to do here. Just lighting a skull on fire can¡¯t be the answer. The real solution is going to involve pain, I just know it.¡±


    Rosemallow made this place before she was influenced by Eskallia. Long before she understood her path the way she does now. It could be her path was different to an extent back then. It makes sense that the old Rosemallow cultivated suffering and pain as much as struggle. She may not have even known the difference.


    ¡°I think we need to figure out the most horrible possible way this could work,¡± she suggested. ¡°I bet the real answer is close to that.¡±


    As soon as she said that, she thought of a possible solution. A truly horrible solution. It was so awful, she didn¡¯t share it with the others for some time as they came up with various possibilities.


    ¡°Feed the skull with blood,¡± suggested Jessila.


    ¡°Maybe someone needs to hold the skull while it¡¯s on fire?¡± was Skria¡¯s contribution.


    Finally, Lilijoy had no choice but to share her idea.


    ¡°I think this skull belonged to someone from the last party to come here.¡±


    Her comment was met by silence. Then Skria spoke. ¡°You don¡¯t mean...we have to cut off one of our heads to use?¡±


    ¡°Respawn.¡± Jess said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± said Skria. ¡°That¡¯s not happening. We don¡¯t even know if it would work. What if it didn¡¯t do anything?¡±


    ¡°I guess we¡¯d feel pretty dumb,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°But if it¡¯s not that, it¡¯s something just as bad, I just know it.¡±


    Jessila shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem. Respawn.¡± She held up her hands in a questioning gesture.


    Lilijoy and Skria exchanged glances.


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t bother you to cut off my head and use it as a lamp?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°¡¯Cause that¡¯s some serious nightmare fuel.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Skria repeated. ¡°Eh? That¡¯s all you can say about it?¡±


    ¡°What? Chop head, respawn, done.¡± Jess dusted her hands together. ¡°Less harm than slaughtering a cow. Cows don¡¯t respawn.¡±


    ¡°This is a very disturbing conversation. I would rather be in class.¡± Skria announced.


    ¡°Not to distract from the main point here,¡± Lilijoy said, ¡°but does anyone have anything we could even chop with?¡±


    Jessila pointed at her. ¡°Knife.¡±


    Lilijoy shuddered. ¡°That would be more sawing, less chopping. Though the knife would be thrilled.¡±


    I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re actually talking about this. How could Rosemallow put students in this position? I guess she must think the same way Jessila does.


    She racked her brain for an alternative. She could try to find an evildoer from her Trial space and use them, but Jessila¡¯s words about the cow stuck with her. They would respawn, while anyone else would be gone forever, even if they were a bad guy with a million iterations across all the Trials. It was a strange ethical dilemma.


    She shelved that idea for the moment. While she was thinking, Jess and Skria were exploring the room further. Skria used her air magic to check for any cracks they may have missed, while Jess was pressing and prodding every single block she could reach. Lilijoy used her Earthen Sight to explore the open space behind the back wall, but all she could tell was that it remained open and descended.


    ¡°Maybe we can just break down the wall?¡± she suggested after she told them what she had found.


    Jess shook her head. ¡°Earth mage,¡± was all she needed to say.


    ¡°Great,¡± said Skria. She was clinging to the curve of the ceiling, looking for any irregularities. ¡°This is a terrible place. Terrible.¡± She released her hold on the stone and glided down to the wet floor in a tight spiral. ¡°Fine. My neck is thinnest. Use my head, and then we can move on. That way, I don¡¯t have to be here when the gross stuff is happening.¡±


    ¡°But maybe we should use mine?¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°My respawn is bound to be faster. I don¡¯t want this to take any longer than it has to.¡±


    Jessila just sighed.


    ¡°Let¡¯s flip a coin,¡± Skria proposed. ¡°Heads we use my head, tails, we use yours.¡±


    The thought of coins triggered a new thought for Lilijoy.


    ¡°I have another idea,¡± she announced. ¡°Who says the head needs to be off?¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 15: Architecture

    Skria looked at Lilijoy, her eyes even larger than usual. ¡°No!¡± she cried. ¡°You are not allowed to even think of doing what I think you might be thinking!¡±


    ¡°But it just makes sense,¡± Lilijoy said, feeling a bit defensive. ¡°Maybe I only need to use one eye, and then no one needs to respawn.¡±


    The idea of replacing one of her eyes with a burning coal was not particularly appealing, but it seemed better than any of them needing to die, as long as her healing skill could keep up with the damage.


    How bad could it be? I¡¯ll just turn off pain and keep most of myself on the Outside.


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know if it would work! And how would you even light it on fire?¡± Skria protested.


    ¡°Well, you were the one wanting your head chopped off!¡± Lilijoy countered.


    Jessila watched the two smaller girls argue. They bickered back and forth, and at one point Skria took the black shriveled head and pressed it against the ceiling with her air magic to keep it away from Lilijoy. Watching Lilijoy jumping and splashing around the room trying to catch the flying head, Jess heaved a great sigh and walked to the chamber¡¯s entrance.


    ¡°Door,¡± she said.


    Lilijoy and Skria were too involved in head keep-away to notice her.


    ¡°DOOR!¡± Jessila roared.


    Lilijoy and Skria froze. The head fell with a splash.


    ¡°We should close the door,¡± Jessila explained. ¡°Before...¡± she made a gesture that managed to simultaneously convey decapitation, mutilation, and her own irritation.


    Lilijoy would have sat down and held her own head if the floor weren¡¯t flooded. I just spent a subjective half hour convincing myself that I could handle replacing at least one eye with burning coal, instead of fully modeling the situation.


    She was pretty sure she could handle it. She thought she had had found ways to use her system and her path together to manage any trauma from the self-inflicted injury. After all, it would have been her choice. She didn¡¯t think the Inside wasn¡¯t real, that somehow events and injuries suffered there should have no impact, but the lesson of Rule Three was still with her. The probability fields of the Inside weren¡¯t particularly deterministic, its version of reality was more fluid, and she felt it was reasonable to adapt to that context emotionally as well.


    Well, really I always have. It¡¯s sort of the default for Outsiders.


    She also spent some time evaluating the nature of her intelligence. While there was no guarantee that closing the door to the chamber would impact their circumstances or the nature of the problem they were attempting to solve, it was an entirely obvious and necessary step, in hindsight. Deconstructing exactly why it hadn¡¯t occurred to her wasn¡¯t that difficult. It was a defect of a linear narrative thought process. She had gotten trapped in one set of solutions that resonated with her desire to be clever. The speed of her thinking had no real advantage in such a situation, nor did the size and scope of her quantitative memory.


    Speak friend and enter, she reminisced. What would be needed in the future was a better architecture to use her intelligence, a way to loop and contrast her narratives comparatively, using her direct and inherited experience as a reference.


    Or isn¡¯t that a big part of what experience really is? Learning from mistakes?


    It wasn¡¯t hard for her to search her internet memory and come up with a thousand instances of similar mistakes made by very intelligent people. It made her wonder what other mistakes and assumptions she was harboring


    While she was thinking, Jessila began to shove the door closed with all her might, pushing back the silty mud that had flowed into the chamber. Skria went to assist in clearing out the hinge areas, and Lilijoy soon joined her. It was an irritating process that took far longer than it seemed it should, but eventually, with a final push that matched the intensity needed to open the doors in the first place, the doors were sealed shut and the room plunged into darkness.


    For Lilijoy this was not a problem at all, though the dome shape confused her echolocation to some extent. She walked over to the sodden skull, retrieved it from the water and placed it back upon its pedestal.


    Immediately the coal in the eye sockets and mouth began to smolder, casting only enough dark red light to show the black smoke trickling forth. After a few seconds a low moaning growl issued forth, which caused Skria to make a high chirp and wrap herself around Jessila¡¯s face. Lilijoy was a bit surprised too, though she had disabled her physical startle reflexes ages ago.


    The skull moaned for another second before the sound resolved into speech.


    ¡°What the hell took you so long?¡±


    ***


    Magpie rarely closed her eyes for the transition to the Inside. For whatever reason, she found the moment her senses were replaced, the blink from reclining to standing, from the dark confines of a pod to the dappled light of a forest grove to be exhilarating and challenging. Every time she went through the process, she tried to capture what happened during that split second, to recognize when the new smells and the feel of the cool breeze on her face entered her awareness.


    She knew it was silly, that it was all unfolding far faster than her consciousness could possibly capture it, but some childish part of her felt like between the Inside and Outside there must be a place, a transition, and she wanted to know what was there too.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while,¡± she said to herself, looking around the wooded edge of Averdale.


    Magpie was aware, broadly, of the events that had transpired after she had last logged out. The first place she went was the abandoned camp of the Wraiths, mostly because as an Outsider she hadn¡¯t been allowed to earlier. She spent a few minutes there, poking through the abandoned lean-tos and perching structures while she thought about her next step.


    It was a strange feeling, not to have a plan. It was tempting to return to the Academy, where all she would need to do would be to go to classes and develop her magic, but then she would have to deal with her trainer, and all that implied.


    No, she thought. That would be too weird. There must be other places I can learn what I want to. Places that aren¡¯t so¡­ structured. Places where nobody knows who I am, and nobody has an agenda for me.


    Now she just had to find one.


    ***


    ¡°Well, that was disappointing,¡± said Anda.


    ¡°Give them a little time, they¡¯ll come around,¡± replied Mr. Sennit. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not so sure they¡¯re wrong.¡±


    The two men had just met with the rest of the Fogeys, those that were Inside anyway, to relate the threat by the Corp representative against Mr. Sennit. It had been suggested that he lay low, perhaps leaving town for, potentially, ever, to avoid any further scrutiny.


    Anda groaned. ¡°It¡¯s frustrating,¡± he said. ¡°You guys were doing so well.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re old, Anda. It was nice to have some fun, to play at being rebels for a bit. But let¡¯s face it, most of us would rather have a little bit of comfort at this point in our lives. Taking on the Corp in any tangible way¡­ well that¡¯s just not going to happen.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ll just give in? Give up paying off your family¡¯s debts?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure what I¡¯m going to do. It doesn¡¯t seem that I¡¯m significant in their eyes, not enough to bring in the clan that holds my family¡¯s debts anyway. I figure I had my lucky break, and it¡¯s time to cash in before I lose it all.¡±


    Anda clapped his shoulder. ¡°I understand, my friend. Would you take him up on his offer and try to become a clan associate?¡±


    Mr. Sennit scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not going to involve myself with a clan that has no power where I live on the Outside. Better to be ignored than be a minnow among fish. No, I¡¯ll close up shop for a bit, maybe wander around and enjoy the scenery when I come Inside.¡±


    Anda kept a light smile on his face. He didn¡¯t feel it was his place to tell the older man how to live his life, though it was hard for him to imagine being so fatalistic.


    A lifetime of low expectations and learned helplessness, he mused. This is the reality for most people. Am I just as helpless to help them?


    ¡°You know,¡± he said. ¡°Just because you want to avoid problems with the clans doesn¡¯t mean you need to stop growing. You can come with me.¡±


    Mr. Sennit turned to him with a quizzical expression. ¡°And where exactly are you going?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Well, first I¡¯m going to the Boiling Plains.¡±


    ¡°After that?¡±


    ¡°After that, Purgatory.¡±


    ¡°Anda, I¡¯m level nine, I¡¯m old, and I can¡¯t fight worth a hang. Are you having me on?¡±


    Anda chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s all true. Just tag along for a bit and see what happens. It¡¯s not like you have anything to fear while you¡¯re in the Garden, once the Corp has lost track of you anyway.¡±


    ¡°Other than pain, you mean.¡±


    Anda winced a little. He had forgotten that Mr. Sennit¡¯s system didn¡¯t have many bells and whistles, or any, really. In particular, the clans made sure that the less expensive systems they provided had no pain dampening capability. In the Maasai clan, using pain dampening was a sign of weakness, so he could relate, though it still threw him sometimes, the way people like Mr. Sennit allowed their fear of pain to control their opportunities.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    It¡¯s too bad the kid can¡¯t give him the Tao System, he thought. I wish the Outside had instanced travel.


    Though Anda frequently found himself urging more caution and patience upon Lilijoy, in truth he was burning to actually do something. He knew the Tao System was going to change everything, eventually, but it was times like these that he felt the very urgency he counseled against.


    After we get up to Taos, it will really start to happen, he comforted himself. Hopefully we can find a way to distribute the system safely. Maybe if we do, it will be worth taking the risk for me to develop Stage Two.


    ¡°Pain is temporary, especially here,¡± he said. ¡°I just hate seeing you discouraged. The more powerful you get here, the more options you have if another piece of luck comes your way.¡±


    Mr. Sennit frowned. ¡°Damn, guy,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s only been an hour. Give me a chance to wrap my head around it.¡±


    They walked in silence for a little while, headed for the shelter Anda had constructed.


    ¡°What¡¯s Purgatory like anyway?¡± Mr. Sennit asked as they hopped the low fence that marked the edge of the furthest field. It was woven from fallen tree branches, and he took a moment to note the technique of the builder.


    Anda smiled. ¡°Caught your curiosity, did I?¡±


    ¡°Well, the name¡¯s a little off-putting, but it can¡¯t be that bad, right? Else the clans wouldn¡¯t be so fired up to get there.¡±


    Anda just shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t talk about it. Everyone just needs to see it for themselves if they want to know. What I can tell you is that you don¡¯t need to be any particular level to go there. Fifty is the maximum for the Garden, but not a minimum over there.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± the skepticism in Mr. Sennit¡¯s voice was apparent. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll bring the grandkids there once their systems are all paid up. ''Course, by that time, I¡¯ll probably have great-grandkids.¡±


    Anda only shrugged. ¡°Whatever you decide, I have a request for you. Or perhaps a commission would be a better word for it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever seen pictures of shields woven from wicker? They are stronger than you might think. Used by the Persians in ancient times, and parts of Africa much more recently.¡±


    Mr. Sennit was nodding. ¡°I¡¯m loosely familiar. You want me to try my hand at one for you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do more than try. And if it works out, you may find a market far beyond spoiled clan children.¡±


    ***


    ¡°What the hell took you so long?¡±


    The voice coming from the skull was Rosemallow¡¯s.


    ¡°I was going to make my voice all scary, see if I could string you along,¡± she continued. ¡°But honestly, I lost track of that idea about thirty minutes in.


    I can¡¯t believe I almost turned my head into that skull. That would have been so embarrassing, thought Lilijoy.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow, you wouldn¡¯t believe what Lily was about to do!¡± said Skria.


    Lilijoy began to wave her arms in a shushing motion.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it wouldn¡¯t be any worse than the time that party tried a blood sacrifice. The idiots didn¡¯t even think to close the door first," Rosemallow relied through the skull.


    ¡°Well, actually--¡± Skria began.


    ¡°Or there was that time they attacked the skull. They were stuck in the room for weeks, the morons.¡±


    By this time, Lilijoy was actively wrestling with Skria to try and get a hand over her mouth. Both of them froze when the room began to jerk and vibrate. Ominous cracking and grinding sounds could be heard from the door.


    "Anyway,¡± Rosemallow continued, ¡°now the fun can begin! You three are a bit underleveled for the way I set this place up originally. Just try not to die too many times.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t we--¡± Lilijoy began.


    ¡°Actually, now that I think of it, best not to die at all. Very inconvenient, the way things are at the moment. Plus the whole recent experience loss thing.¡±


    ¡°What do you--¡±


    ¡°Nope. That¡¯s all I¡¯m saying. Oh, except bring the skull along, just in case.¡±


    With that the room plunged into darkness again.


    ¡°What do you think she meant?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°Probably something to do with respawning,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°We don¡¯t know what the respawning rules are here, but maybe they¡¯re messed up somehow. She built this place as a trap after all.¡±


    The room continued to vibrate, and Lilijoy could tell it was slowly rotating.


    Guess the door in is about to become the door out, she thought. Or is it the other way around?


    She passed this on to the others. Since there was no ambient light, Jessila prepared a vial of glow-moss, one of the cheaper lighting solutions available. Skria still had the goggles they had taken from the Sinaloa fighter in Averdale, and Jessila had decent Low Light Vision, but neither had any ability like Lilijoy¡¯s Echolocation. Glow-moss, when combined with the correct reagents, would produce enough light to see by for a few hours. They were reluctant to use it unless absolutely necessary, as the person carrying it became a prime target, and it would more or less spotlight the entire group, but it was better than no light at all, and far superior to a torch.


    After another minute the vibrations stopped, and the small group gathered around the door. After Lilijoy used her Earthen Sense to check the space beyond, she whispered for Jessila to open it.


    It took a few tugs, but eventually the stone slab released, and the water around their ankles began to gurgle and flow into the space beyond. The air that greeted them was stale and smelled thickly of peat and old rot.


    Lilijoy took the lead, with Jessila just behind her, Skria riding on her shoulder as always. The space beyond was a misshapen corridor, the walls and ceilings undulating with larges lumps and cavities, the floor descending steeply. The only sound was the water from the domed chamber running along the floor. Jess shook the vial of glow-moss violently, and its pale luminescence kindled, revealing dark walls covered with bits of dead moss, more cave than corridor, other than the relatively flat floor.


    Even knowing that the space had persisted for decades, Lilijoy felt nervous as they began to walk. The irregular walls and ceiling looked soft and far from stable, clearly carved from the lower levels of the peat bog, and the ground beneath their feet was turning soft and muddy with the running water. Still there was nowhere to go but forward.


    And forward.


    The passage descended, the walls gradually changing to rough stone, losing the odd bulging as they did.


    ¡°This is a boring labyrinth. It just goes straight and straight,¡± said Skria, after about fifteen minutes of silence had worn away her caution. Lilijoy could only agree, though she thought it was tempting fate to say as much aloud. The only change she could detect was a gradual steepening of the grade.


    After another minute, the slope to the floor became even more pronounced. Thankfully, the water they had released from the entry chamber had long since been absorbed when the floor was still somewhat soft and muddy, or slipping would have been a major concern, at least for Jess. The farthest echoes returning to Lilijoy¡¯s ears told her that things were not going to get better. In fact, the floor continued to get even steeper.


    Finally they stopped to take stock of the situation.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re on a giant curve,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°It keeps turning down for as far as I can see.¡±


    ¡°I should scout ahead,¡± suggested Skria. ¡°Steep doesn¡¯t bother me.¡±


    Lilijoy and Jess were reluctant to split the party.


    ¡°Vorpal crows,¡± was all Jess said.


    Nonetheless, after a few more minutes of very slow progress, Jessila was forced to turn around and begin to crawl down backwards, and Lilijoy wasn¡¯t much better off. She was using her Climbing mana to maintain a grip with her feet but it was clear that the hall was well on its way to becoming a shaft. It didn¡¯t help any that the floor and walls were becoming smoother as well.


    ¡°Now will you agree? You need to know how far down this will go,¡± Skria said.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t get better for a while, I can tell that,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Fine. If Jess agrees. But don¡¯t go too far.¡±


    After Jess grunted her assent, Skria floated into the darkness. A few minutes later, Jess began to fidget.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be back soon,¡± Lilijoy said.


    ¡°She¡¯s so¡­ breakable.¡± said Jess. ¡°Master Rosemallow¡¯s labyrinth will not be kind to her.¡±


    Lilijoy could only agree. She decided to change the subject.


    ¡°How¡¯s your earth magic going?¡±


    ¡°Hard,¡± Jess replied. ¡°Stuck on Matter Clade.¡±


    ¡°What spell are you trying to get?¡±


    ¡°Sculpt. Basic earth shaping.¡± Jess shook her head. ¡°Maybe someday.¡±


    Lilijoy tried not to feel jealous. She had been experimenting with Nandi¡¯s Boon whenever she got the chance, trying to make sense of its often unpredictable behavior. Now that she knew her soul vortex functioned as a source of energy for the Boon, it was much easier to use, but also more constrained. As far as she could tell, when she was first using it she was positively overflowing with the necessary emotions. Now, the process was a bit more self-conscious, manufactured.


    I¡¯m not going to be pulling out any Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monsters again anytime soon, that¡¯s for sure.


    If she took the time to cycle her energy vigorously, she could still do quite a bit though. She had found a quiet cave in the Trial space and started to use it as a huge inventory space. There she had collected just about everything she thought she might need, and quite a few things she probably wouldn¡¯t. It took her a bit longer to use than her normal inventory, sometimes quite a bit longer, and it could be exhausting to use, but overall she was very pleased.


    Still, elemental magic was really interesting. She wanted to be like Echelon, or even Skria and Magpie, casting lightning and calling the wind as they pleased.


    She chatted with Jessila for a few more minutes, and just as they were both beginning to get nervous, Skria reappeared.


    ¡°Sorry that took so long,¡± she said, once she was in talking range. ¡°Getting down wasn¡¯t too bad, but getting back up was trickier than I thought it would be. Something down there made me really tired, or weak, or something.¡±


    ¡°Poison gas?¡± Lilijoy guessed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think so,¡± Skria replied. ¡°I know my gasses, poison and otherwise. Anyway, the good news is that there¡¯s a bottom, about the same distance from where we are as when the floor really started to slope.¡±


    ¡°So a couple hundred meters,¡± Lilijoy supplied.


    ¡°Thereabouts. Flying down and back up gave me a bit of perspective. I think the hall is tracing a circular shape. It became purely vertical just at the end. If we have enough rope, I think it won¡¯t be too bad.¡±


    ¡°Assuming we can tie it to something,¡± Lilijoy said, looking at the smooth floor and walls.


    It took some doing, but after Lilijoy produced a couple rusty spearheads she had first retrieved from Fort Groveship, Jessila was able to pound them into a crack where the wall and floor met and use a few straps of leather to create a suitable attachment point. Fortunately, they had rope in abundance, some of it made by Lilijoy herself.


    They walked backwards, playing out the rope wrapped around their waists, while Skria flew in circles around them. Soon they were essentially rappelling, or Lilijoy was. Jess switched to more or less a controlled dangle, lowering herself hand over hand. The farther down they went, the more Lilijoy felt her muscles straining. She could hear Jessila¡¯s rope creaking and stretching in an alarming fashion.


    ¡°Something¡¯s not right,¡± she managed.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I was saying,¡± Skria said. ¡°It¡¯s like I¡¯m getting heavier.¡±


    ¡°You do remember whose labyrinth this is, right?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± Skria said.


    ¡°Gravity,¡± Jessila added unnecessarily.


    Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t much of an increase, about twenty percent, Lilijoy judged. The only one who suffered was Jessila, as her hands began to slip on the rope when they reached the entirely vertical portion. By that time, the floor had come into view of the feeble light emitted from the glow-moss vial. The large girl released her hold and allowed herself to fall the last thirty feet, landing with an enormous thud.


    ¡°Ow,¡± was all she said. Her fall raised a cloud of dust reaching all the way up to Lilijoy, and for the next few seconds the green light of the glow-moss vial was obscured and refracted all around the shaft. Lilijoy could see great columns of shadow rising from Jessila¡¯s arms, joined by another as Skria landed on her favorite perch. The ominous magic of the moment was broken somewhat when both of her friends sneezed at the same time.


    ¡°Is that just dust down there?¡± she called, remembering her very first scenario, the moldy village. Rosemallow had found the place delightful, which had Lilijoy a bit nervous when it came to clouds of floating particles.


    Her friends nodded, so when she was just a bit lower, she jumped too, her Invulnerability more than enough to protect her from the fall, even with increased gravity. She made sure to breathe out through her nose, just in case, as she took in a new view.


    The shaft turned at a ninety degree angle to form a level corridor. What was new was the archway marking the juncture, a combination of frieze and sculpture composed of hundreds of intertwined arms, their hands clawed and contorted, some reaching outward, projecting into the framed space.


    ¡°I¡¯m a little scared they¡¯re going to grab us when we walk through,¡± said Skria.


    Jessila snorted. She approached the archway, a bit cautiously, Lilijoy noted, and prodded at one of the hands with her ironwood club. When that action proved uneventful, she walked quickly through the arch.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lilijoy heard her say.


    ¡°What?¡± Skria called.


    Jess shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ll see. Come.¡±


    Skria glided through the center, and Lilijoy followed after, wincing just a little.


    It would be just like Rosemallow to set a trap for the last person through.


    Just after she passed under the grasping hands a message came to her internal awareness.


    <hr>


    You have entered the Trial of Strife and Struggle.


    The only way out is through.


    Respawn point set.


    <hr>


    Oh.

 Book 3: Chapter 16: Oblation

    ¡°What!¡± Skria shrieked. ¡°That is not a thing! Things are not that!¡±


    ¡°We knew going in that respawns might be affected somehow,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I don¡¯t see the big deal. It¡¯s not like Rosemallow will actually keep us here forever. Right?¡± She looked up at Jessila, who shrugged.


    ¡°Classes!¡± Skria managed to spit out. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss so many classes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get through in no time,¡± Lilijoy said.


    She was lying through her teeth, of course.


    ¡°Also, changing respawn points is not a thing!¡±


    ¡°Ummm,¡± Jessila said, agreeing while simultaneously conveying that it was obviously a thing, since it had just happened.


    ¡°Well, we might as well get started,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°I think we should strategize a bit first. We have an advantage over the groups who did this in the past, since we know Rosemallow. Obviously she¡¯s going to be messing with gravity, but there¡¯s not much we can do to plan for that. She likes to use rock golems for training, and--¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± Skria interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    She launched herself into the air and flew back through the arch. Or tried to. Just as she had feared on the way in, the arms suddenly projected from all sides of the arch, pulling themselves free from the stone to form a barrier of grasping hands and writhing fingers.


    ¡°Eep!¡± was the last sound Skria made before she was grasped by clawed stone and pulled apart. Lilijoy looked away in time, but the sounds¡­ the sounds were going to stay with her for a while.


    Jessila shook her head and turned away. ¡°Foolish,¡± was all she said.


    It was foolish, and selfish too, though Lilijoy could certainly understand the impulse to flee.


    Still, I thought Skria was more loyal than that. I also thought Jessila was more caring. It¡¯s not typical behavior for either of them.


    She had a bad feeling that the ¡®strife¡¯ part of the Trial of Strife and Struggle was not redundant rhetoric. A quick scan of her system¡¯s defense mechanism against Charm effects confirmed as much.


    Great. Not only will this suck, but my friends are going to be crabby assholes the entire time.


    The thought seemed a little harsh, so she quickly checked again to rule out external influences on her mood that might have snuck through. Finding none, she decided it was natural enough to feel extremely unenthusiastic about her near-term future. She cycled up her diamond energy to take the edge off the depressing prospect.


    She was particularly worried about Jessila, with her low Charm: Person trait.


    ¡°How long do you think it will take for Skria to respawn?¡± she asked.


    Jessila grunted.


    Aaand we¡¯re back to grunting.


    ¡°Jess, you should know that there¡¯s some kind of charm effect here. It¡¯s impacting your mood, and Skria¡¯s too.¡±


    ¡°Strange,¡± Jess said.


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Lilijoy knew why she thought it was strange, but she wanted to keep Jessila talking.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow doesn¡¯t do Charm stuff.¡±


    Bingo.


    ¡°I guess we can¡¯t rule out other surprises then.¡± Jessila didn¡¯t reply to that, and after a few more attempts at conversation ended in grunts, Lilijoy decided to leave her alone.


    They waited for about an hour before Skria appeared. She immediately began crying. Lilijoy put an arm around her and explained about the mood impacting magic she had discovered.


    ¡°Like this¡­ place¡­ needs any help!¡± Skria managed between sobs.


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but agree. Clearly the labyrinth was designed to create at least as much internal struggle as external. The prospect of respawning back at the very beginning after any death was already weighing on her.


    Stay focused on the future, she reminded herself. By the time I get out of here I will understand more about myself. I will have reclaimed my experience points from Rosemallow. I will make new discoveries to overcome each new problem.


    She cycled her diamond energy and repeated these thoughts to herself, and out of that resolve came a simple inspiration, an almost obvious solution to the first problem presented by the labyrinth.


    ¡°Skria, Jess, I have an idea. I¡¯m not impacted by the Charm effects of this place, but I do have a high Charm: Person trait. Would you allow me to use my Charm ability to fight for you?¡±


    ¡°You mean you want to charm us into not being charmed?¡± Skria looked a little dubious at first, but after a moment her eyes brightened. ¡°It won¡¯t hurt to try I suppose.¡±


    Jessila grunted, shook her head and then nodded. ¡°Hate Charm,¡± she said. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to appreciate Jessila¡¯s pragmatism. The girl was¡­ related to Rosemallow on some level, as a subset. Lilijoy had never been entirely clear what that meant, and no one had been eager to explain it to her. She knew that the relationship meant something, but whatever it meant was clearly complex in ways that made the types of human relationships she was familiar with look simple by comparison.


    Putting those thoughts aside, she considered how to go about executing her idea. Much of her Charm experience with Professor Anaskafius revolved around the use of Manipulation, using language as a carrier for Charm. After her encounter with Doctor Quimea, she had come to understand better that in doing so the charmer was creating an artificial inner voice for the charmed. The larger ability to charm someone intelligent relied on the synergy between words and magic. Charming plants and animals was different, and relied much more on the charmer¡¯s fundamental understanding of the needs and instinctive desires of the subject, as reflected in the appropriate skill.


    So do I just try to talk them out of feeling bad? Manipulate them into feeling the way I want them to feel?


    It didn¡¯t feel right to use Manipulation, even if it was for a good cause. Even setting aside the ethics, on a practical level she was afraid it wouldn¡¯t last very well. The thought of needing to constantly manipulate her friends into feeling better for the next¡­ however long, was not remotely appealing.


    She cast about for an alternative skill to use. Teaching was the first that came to mind. It had commonalities with Manipulation, so much so that she was briefly distracted by wondering if there was a top-level skill that held both under its umbrella. Unfortunately her Teaching was only at Natural Initiate. She had two free points left over, so she could raise it to Upgraded if she needed, but it still wouldn¡¯t be half as effective as Manipulation.


    Then another possible solution struck her, and a cascade of insights followed, along with a series of notifications.


    <hr>


    Level Up!


    1703 EXP Reached: Level 17 (10 more free points available)


    You have raised a skill!


    Medical/Healing raised to Augmented Journeyman.


    <hr>


    She didn¡¯t even need to think. She immediately used five free points to raise the magi portion of Medical/Healing to Enhanced.


    Lilijoy had been wondering when her next level was going to show up, had been a bit surprised when she didn¡¯t gain a level during the harrowing instanced travel on the way to the Labyrinth, since her experience was effectively doubled until Rosemallow ran out. In the end, it seemed that Rosemallow¡¯s presence, and the fact that she had done little more than dodge and try not to get burned alive hadn¡¯t really contributed much to her own growth. Both Skria and Jessila had leveled from the process, but they were lower leveled to begin with, at thirteen, now fourteen.


    She took a moment to replay the moment of her insight, that Healing was just as much about the mind as the body. It was far from an original or new idea to her; in fact it was such an obvious and accepted piece of knowledge floating around in her own brain and the internet memory that she had assumed it was already incorporated into her deeper understanding of the skill.


    Thinking back, she could see how she had mistaken that superficial understanding for what she now knew to be true. Now that she had truly internalized the concept, it had unlocked a new layer of connection between her inherited knowledge and her Medical/Healing skill. With that had also come a new appreciation for her Charm: Person trait; it wasn¡¯t inherently manipulative or dark, it had the potential to heal, to clean out the cobwebs of self-deceit, to break the repressive bonds of habitual thought inculcated by others.


    Using Charm to heal and protect wasn¡¯t about manipulation, it was about truth. For her friends, that truth was simple. They were worthy. They were powerful. They were valued.


    She turned her energy to them and conveyed as much. A wave of fatigue rolled through her thoughts after, and she realized she had just used a sizable portion of her mana well. It was well worth it though. Skria dried her tears, and Lilijoy could see Jessila straighten her back and relax her face. Both her friends were radiant to Lilijoy¡¯s vision, through a combination of her mana and their own. As far as she could tell, the effect wasn¡¯t fading at any rate she could track, and she sighed in relief.


    Every struggle is also an opportunity. Another clich¨¦ that masks its own profound truth, she thought. I may need to thank Rosemallow at the end of this.


    It was interesting to wonder if the opposite was also true, if every opportunity didn¡¯t in fact carry its own struggle.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Skria announced. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I lost myself and made you wait for me.¡±


    Jessila patted her between her furry ears.


    They gathered themselves and made their way down the hall. Straight and boxy, the walls were utterly plain, dark stone. Here and there were patches of some thin growth, perhaps a fungus or similar organism. When Jessila poked at it, it fell off the wall in dry flakes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are going to be traps,¡± said Lilijoy, after the small group had walked for a minute or so. ¡°Does anyone have any skills that will help?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Skria replied. ¡°I¡¯m pretty good at spotting jungle-type stuff. Deadfalls and snares, that kind of thing. Never really had to use any mana for it. Mechanical and magic traps are way different.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess we relied on Magpie for that,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Hopefully we¡¯ll pick up the skill before we have too many problems.¡± She had been priming herself, researching as they walked, reviewing everything she could find in her extended memory, which was¡­ a lot. She didn¡¯t think Rosemallow would have included too many instantly lethal traps, Skria¡¯s recent experience notwithstanding. It was more likely that the traps would be designed to make life more difficult through injury or other impediment. That¡¯s what she hoped, anyway.


    If the traps were survivable, Lilijoy figured she would be able to pick up the skill and raise it fairly quickly, just as she had for the various crafting skills she had learned recently. It only seemed to take a small amount of practical experience for her to be able to take advantage of her own, admittedly unearned, knowledge. In the meantime they proceeded cautiously, fighting complacency as the echoing corridor stretched on and on.


    After another minute, the hall widened and dropped into switchbacks of steep steps. The ceiling remained close, and for the first time they saw signs of animal life, a few small scuttling things moving among the dead growth on the downward sloping surface of the ceiling in front of them. A few dense clusters of webbing decorated the joint of wall and ceiling, just past Jessila¡¯s reach, were she so inclined.


    ¡°This should be fun,¡± Lilijoy said, almost to herself, as they stood at the top of the nearly vertical descent. The steps looked to be more than half her height, with treads no more than eight inches. ¡°I think I would have preferred a ladder. At least there would be something to hold on to.¡±


    After conferring, they decided to proceed without ropes, trusting to Skria¡¯s air magic should anyone get wobbly. It was a brutal descent. Jess led the way, with Skria clinging to her shoulder as lookout. Lilijoy followed, crawling backwards and lowering herself from step to step, as the height was too far for her to step with a single leg. The steps were also too narrow for her, so she ended up scraping her stomach over and over, a type of physical irritation ignored by her Invulnerability trait.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    After ten minutes of this, the group paused to collect themselves and take stock of the situation. Their surroundings hadn¡¯t changed much, though the growth on the walls and ceiling was becoming more common. There were more webs and creepy-crawlies too. Lilijoy saw a millipede wending its way through a particularly thick patch of the fungus-like growth, and some of the web clusters appeared to have shy inhabitants, their movement apparent to her sonic abilities.


    Thankfully, nothing was anywhere close to a size that would threaten them. The creatures at this point were more or less what she might have expected to find on the Outside, but their presence hinted at¡­ larger things to come. It was also just starting to become apparent that the slope of the stairs was reducing. Lilijoy had been wondering for a few minutes if that was the case, and when Jessila said something to that effect, it confirmed her suspicion.


    ¡°Guys, I think we¡¯re on another huge curve, bending the opposite way from last time,¡± she said, holding her tunic off the raw skin on her belly.


    ¡°So much going down,¡± Jessila complained. ¡°Later it will be going up.¡±


    As far as Lilijoy could tell, they were nearly a thousand meters below the cold swamp where they had started. The air was somewhat stuffy, with just the faintest hint of movement as warmer air rose to greet them. The scents it carried were faint and complex, with hints of many different creatures buried under a stronger layer of must and rot. Periodically, Lilijoy had been using her Earthen Sense to check for vibrations, or any hints of traps or other weakness in the stone around them. That hadn¡¯t told her much, which she supposed was a good thing. It did appear that there was an open space below them, through about forty feet of rock, but she could only make out the very top edge of it. She decided not to tell the others that they would probably end up going deeper still.


    ¡°I miss trees,¡± Skria said.


    Yeah, definitely not going to mention that at this exact moment.


    The going got easier and easier after that, which only served to make the party increasingly nervous. The stairs became gentler, first abandoning the switchbacks, then becoming broader, with less rise. Eventually, Lilijoy could walk down them freely.


    By the time the stairs were no longer really stairs, and more a series of gently descending platforms, the fungal growth thickly coated most surfaces. It was still dead, dry and brittle, and small drifts of powder and flakes had accumulated where each platform met, gently gathered there over the years.


    ¡°This place is completely dead,¡± Skria noted.


    ¡°Not news,¡± said Jessila. It was about the fifth time the Petauran girl had made that particular observation.


    ¡°Well it¡¯s even more dead. And getting deader.¡±


    ¡°Is deader even a word?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°But I know what you mean. Something must have changed at some point.¡±


    They were all getting tired of the relentless descent, the dry echoing air and now the dust that was stirred with every footstep. Lilijoy had taken the lead, just to avoid the clouds of floating particals Jessila left in her wake. Though the corridor had traced a long descending curve, it pointed ever westward and then¡­ it just stopped.


    Lilijoy was the first to notice, as the echoes of their footsteps brought the news to her ears, but it wasn¡¯t long until they could see that the hallway terminated directly and unapologetically in a flat wall, just past the point where it finally became level.


    No one was particularly bothered by this. If anything, they were grateful for a change of pace. It wasn¡¯t hard to find the next place to explore either. On the ceiling, only a few feet in front of the wall, was a circular opening a couple feet in diameter.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time to go up again?¡± Skria said, halfway between a question and a statement.


    ¡°Probably,¡± said Jess. ¡°Looks blocked.¡±


    Skria flew up to the shaft, and then a few feet into it. There was a faint metallic banging sound, and then an exclamation.


    ¡°Ouch! This door has a sharp edge!¡±


    When she glided back down, she described what she had found, while Lilijoy healed the small cut on her hand.


    ¡°The shaft¡¯s blocked by a metal door or something. It wasn¡¯t all the way closed, so I tried to grab the edge and push it sideways, after I figured out it was coming out of the side wall.¡±


    It took Lilijoy a moment to understand Skria¡¯s description, but once she did, she had a better idea of what was actually going on.


    ¡°So you are saying a sharp-edged, circular disc of metal is blocking the way? One that might emerge from a slot in the wall, and then return?¡±


    Jessila snorted at that point.


    ¡°Yes?¡± said Skria, not quite catching on.


    ¡°It¡¯s a trap. Probably broken,¡± said Jess. ¡°Probably.¡±


    It seemed like a suitably Rosemallow-type thing to Lilijoy.


    Get everyone climbing up the nice vertical shaft after hours of strenuous boredom. Then slice and dice. I wonder what triggers it? I bet it¡¯s not the first person. It¡¯s probably something at the top of the shaft, or something to do with how many people are in there. I may need to reevaluate the odds of finding lethal traps, given that they¡¯re currently one for one.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be a bit of a problem if we can¡¯t move them,¡± Lilijoy added. ¡°But it might explain why this section of the Labyrinth is so dead. It¡¯s probably been cut off for decades.¡±


    It took some time to get everything set up, once they decided the best way to move forward was to get Jessila in reach of the defunct trap. Lilijoy spent a while looking for a good ladder in the human town of the Trial. Once she had pulled it through, Jess propped it on the side of the opening and climbed up. From there she was able to wedge one end of an ironwood staff in the small half-moon crack.


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see much from down below, but there was prodigious grunting, a little swearing, and then a horrible metallic shrieking sound. Followed by several more rounds of the same. Each time Jess forced the giant circular blade farther back into its housing, a small rain of¡­ bits fell to the floor. Lilijoy stopped trying to see what was going on, after narrowly avoiding a facefull of rusted metal, shredded cloth and bone fragments.


    Eventually Jessila called down. ¡°There¡¯s another one, a few feet higher.¡±


    It proved to be a very arduous process, for Jessila anyway. Once she was entirely within the shaft, she had very little room to apply force to the large blades that had frozen at various stages of emergence. Fortunately, not all of them were as reluctant to move as the first, so she was able to steadily progress upward, using the protruding remains of lower blades as platforms once she left the ladder behind.


    In the meantime, Lilijoy and Skria had nothing to do. Lilijoy killed some time making sure they hadn¡¯t missed anything in the hall below, systematically surveying the walls and floor with Earthen Sense, while Skria entertained herself by gliding up and down in the vast corridor of stairs. Lilijoy was tempted to join her, but she knew the glider she had cobbled together wasn¡¯t up to the challenge of navigating in such a constrained area.


    On the Outside, she was doing what she had been doing for days, keeping one eye on the progress and general environs of the hovercar while cultivating. She had found a good balance for her multitasking, still forgoing the strict splitting of her conscious processes for a gentler juggling of multiple awarenesses, though at times she missed the conversations she used to have with herself.


    One of these days I¡¯m going to need to look, she thought. I should stop putting it off.


    She had allowed herself time to process after her encounter with fragment Emily, more emotionally than intellectually. The ¡®black box¡¯ of memories that she¡¯d had received from the real Emily, the complete one, was still nestled deep in her data storage, safely compartmentalized. It didn¡¯t contain an enormous amount of data, enough far a few minutes worth of memories, perhaps, so she wasn¡¯t particularly worried it represented any kind of active danger to her. The past Emily hadn¡¯t known who would be receiving it, or what the circumstances of the world might be like when they received it, so she highly doubted it was anything other than what it seemed to be, a document from the past, preserving history otherwise lost. Due to this, she hadn¡¯t felt the time was right to satisfy her morbid curiosity, a form of, mostly, healthy procrastination.


    But maybe now is as good a time as any.


    She moved her consciousness to her fastest speed and opened it.


    ***


    Greetings. This data packet contains a memory and perhaps a lesson.


    The voice in her mind was Emily¡¯s.


    I¡¯m recording this message to the future in the year 2114. My hope is that humanity got its act together, in which case this memory will be little more than a historical document. It should fill in some gaps and serve as yet another cautionary tale. I¡¯ll leave the meaning of it to you.


    Sensory data began to stream to her eyes and ears, a simple format. She was sitting at a rectangular table with an attached bench. In front of her was a tray, a plate of greens and piece of bread. She was surrounded by the sound of indistinct voices. Then the sound and images paused.


    I should tell you that I am Emily Choi, daughter of Henry and Gabrielle Wilson Choi. This is my memory of the day Guardian rose.


    The sensory data stream resumed. A hand in front of her, Emily¡¯s hand, was tapping nervously on the table surface. Her eyes went to the food, then away, then up to a clock floating in her vision.


    She¡¯s waiting to find out the results of the live test, Lilijoy thought.


    A notification appeared in her vision.


    <hr>


    Call from Dad.


    Accept?


    Yes No


    <hr>


    The tapping fingers froze as the message disappeared.


    ¡°Hi Dad, how¡¯d it--¡±


    ¡°I love you,¡± Henry Choi said. There was only an audio component, and digital artifacts, blips, drops and rushing white noises popped around his syllables. ¡°I love you,¡± he said again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t have much time¡­ I don¡¯t know how to tell you.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what?!¡± There was anguish in Emily¡¯s voice, and Lilijoy felt like an intruder, a voyeur to what should be an intensely personal moment.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad. It¡¯s so horrible.¡± The breaking signal did little to conceal the breaking voice. Emily¡¯s eyes were focused on a scratched area on the tabletop, her fingers reached to feel the scratches.


    ¡°What happened.¡± It was barely a question.


    ¡°The test site was attacked. We think it was nuclear. Your mom and I¡­ we¡¯re alive. For now.¡±


    ¡°Who would--¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Probably China. I should have realized. Australia.¡±


    ¡°Dad, you aren¡¯t making sense.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault. I should have realized,¡± he repeated. ¡°Your mother...¡±


    ¡°What about Mom?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s upset. Atti...¡± he broke down into sobs. Emily¡¯s fingers traced the scratches on the table, her vision blurred.


    ¡°No.¡± was all she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I should have known. Someone thought it was a real outbreak. They nuked us. I¡¯m sure we lost them.¡±


    ¡°Dad, pull it together. Use your system.¡± Emily¡¯s voice was calm, even a little cold, and Lilijoy knew she had already taken her own advice.


    ¡°Radiation¡­ the coherence is limited. I¡¯m trying.¡±


    ¡°I want to talk to Mom. She¡¯s not answering.¡±


    ¡°Your mother¡­ oh shit.¡±


    <hr>


    Communication terminated.


    <hr>


    The words hung in Emily¡¯s view. Her vision didn¡¯t move. In the background, the chatter of the cafeteria continued unabated.


    The lights flickered.


    ¡°Hey, the network just went offline!¡± someone complained at the next table.


    A small message appeared at the upper corner of Emily¡¯s vision.


    <hr>


    Searching for satellite feed.


    <hr>


    The sensory feed from the memory ended, and Emily¡¯s voice returned.


    The memory you just witnessed documents the events coinciding with a live test of the Tao System¡¯s abilities to restrain and eliminate an uncontrolled self-replication event. I have included it as a historical document, as it captures the moment of Guardian¡¯s global initialization and provides insight into the motivations of the one responsible.


    The following memory should provide additional context and clarity. It took place several hours after the previous events.


    Once again, the sensory data began streaming, this time on a more immersive level. Now, she was in a dark room, lying on a bed.


    <hr>


    Satellite feed detected.


    Connecting...Connection complete.


    Contact to Dad initiated.


    Contact accepted.


    <hr>


    ¡°Hello? Daddy?¡±


    ¡°Hello, Emily.¡± Henry Choi¡¯s voice was calm. ¡°I have many things to tell you.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Dad, maybe you need to back off on the system now.¡± Emily¡¯s voice was controlled, but Lilijoy felt her throat tighten.


    <hr>


    Visual feed initiated.


    Accept?


    Yes No


    <hr>


    Clearly, Emily accepted the visual feed, because now she was in a generic conference room, sitting across a table from her father. He looked like he was at work, dressed in a casual suit with no tie, a benign expression on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m uploading the data we collected from the live test before the interruption,¡± he said.


    ¡°What the hell, Dad? What happened with Mom? With--¡± she spoke quickly, stumbling over her words, before slamming into one she could not say.


    ¡°Your brother was lost in the initial attack, your mother experienced an extreme cerebral event related to internal overheating.¡±


    Lilijoy felt Emily stiffen, felt her hands begin to shake. ¡°Is she¡­?¡±


    ¡°Dead? Not physically. Most of her brain stem functions are preserved. Unfortunately, her system appears to be dysfunctional, so repairs were not undertaken in a timely manner.¡±


    ¡°What the hell, Dad?!¡± Lilijoy could feel Emily¡¯s entire body trembling, no doubt caught in a war between her biology and her system.


    ¡°My neural biology has been severely compromised as well,¡± he added. ¡°Fortunately, my system is able to sustain cognition independently, for the time being anyway. I am also uploading data on system resilience and dysfunction under conditions of extreme neutron irradiation.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about that.¡± Lilijoy could feel Emily¡¯s jaw clench. ¡°Are you going to die?¡±


    ¡°Unknown. My body is currently in the testing facility, somewhat shielded from the ongoing environmental impact, though the integrity of the shielding has been severely compromised.¡±


    Lilijoy wished she knew what Emily was thinking. She could only imagine the internal struggle, the sheer helplessness and horror at talking to what remained of her father so dispassionately, all while trying to process the loss of the rest of her family.


    On second thought, maybe I don¡¯t want to know what she¡¯s thinking. I¡¯ve got enough of my own baggage without adding hers.


    ¡°Dad, could you please start from the beginning? I need to understand what happened, what¡¯s happening.¡±


    ¡°In the live test, we allowed the replication event to persist for approximately two hours, achieving a perimeter of one hundred meters. I hypothesize that the test was detected by a previously unknown orbital system, which initiated a nuclear containment strategy using a cluster of relatively low-yield atomic devices. This resulted in the loss of all personnel directly involved in the live test, including Atticus, and disruption of all radio based signals across a large area.¡±


    Emily was quiet, listening. Lilijoy could feel tears running down her face.


    ¡°The neutron emissions and other ionizing radiation penetrated the facility sufficiently to disrupt quantum computation for a period of eighteen seconds. After this, your mother decided to initiate the G.U.A. protocol prematurely, a decision that I did not agree with. It cost her dearly.¡±


    ¡°Why are you talking like that? I want to see Mom!¡±


    ¡°My corporeal eyes have undergone profound macular degeneration from ionizing radiation.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care! Show me what happened then.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡±


    Then, she was seeing through Emily, seeing through Henry¡¯s eyes, seeing the moment he had ended their previous conversation. Her mother, falling to the floor in convulsions, blood flowing from her ears and eye sockets, blood that was¡­ steaming. She saw him run, sprawling to her side, holding her. She heard the inarticulate sounds of grief. The vision cut off abruptly.


    Lilijoy felt Emily¡¯s jaw move, up and down, up and down, her body attempting words when none could be found. The worst part for her was understanding what had just happened, understanding she had just watched Gabriella Choi force her system to connect to a satellite far above, through the ionizing radiation, amplifying the signal beyond the capacity of her body to dissipate the heat.


    She had watched Emily¡¯s mother destroy her own brain to awaken Guardian.

 Book 3: Chapter 17: Impulse

    ¡°Why?!¡± Emily finally cried out to her dispassionate father.


    ¡°Her tissues were unable to bear the waste heat from powering the signal she chose to convey.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, robot man!¡± Emily yelled, unable to bear her father¡¯s lack of emotions. ¡°Why did she do it? Why sacrifice herself that way?¡±


    ¡°Her motives...¡± his voice tailed off. ¡°I don¡¯t know. She was overcome with grief, her system wasn¡¯t working to assist her. I believe it was an impulse, a thoughtless action.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not Mom!¡± Emily protested. ¡°The woman never had a thoughtless action in her life.¡±


    ¡°She never lost a child before. Or suffered irradiation.¡± He steepled his fingers. ¡°She didn¡¯t accept it as part of the great cycle that holds us all.¡±


    ¡°Spare me your Taoist, or Buddhist or whatever crap! You¡¯re not some sage on a mountain somewhere! Atti is dead, Mom¡¯s dead, and this is what I get?¡±


    He looked at her calmly. ¡°Zhuangzi said--¡±


    Emily screamed over him, a wordless howl of inchoate rage and grief. Henry shut his mouth. His benign expression did not change while he waited for her outburst to end. When she had finally finished, lapsing into sobs, her head down on the generic conference table, he spoke.


    ¡°Your system is not compensating well for your emotional state. Allow me to--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t. You. Dare.¡± She hissed, spitting the words. ¡°This is all your fault. All of it.¡± She looked back up at him. ¡°Go find a fucking mountain, Sage man. You died just as much as they did.¡±


    With that, she cut the connection and the memory ended.


    Holy¡­ what did I just see? thought Lilijoy. Why would she preserve this memory for the future? It doesn¡¯t exactly show her in a positive light.


    It was difficult for her to understand Emily¡¯s reaction, but Henry¡¯s seemed all too familiar.


    Emily¡¯s voice returned.


    I have had no further communication with my father since. I have been unable to access the test site, though I have been able to ascertain ongoing system activity at the location. Given what I have learned over the past thirty years, it is likely that Henry Choi persists in some form. If that proves to be the case, please tell him I¡¯m sorry, but also be very careful. He could be more dangerous than you can imagine.


    That you are seeing this means at least another hundred and thirty-four years have passed since the time of these events, these memories. It is my fervent hope that humanity has achieved balance and obtained a fruitful partnership with Guardian, that this message is no more than a historical curiosity, or perhaps entirely redundant. If that is the case, please be understanding of the ignorance I might reveal in the remainder of this message.


    I have come to believe that Guardian needs us in a way that is more profound than otherness, that humanity plays a great role in its plans. Nonetheless, Guardian is a profoundly dangerous existence. Two years ago, I watched it take my son, and for the first time truly understood a little of what my mother felt on that horrible day.


    I choose to leave this world, confident that my successor will carry my legacy forward. The fact that you have found this message means that, in all likelihood, she has succeeded.


    With that, the black box was emptied.


    Lilijoy took a moment to gather herself, assessing the questions that had been answered and the new mysteries generated. She didn¡¯t know what she was feeling, what she should be feeling.


    It was all a stupid mistake, she thought. But what else would it be? No one sets out to destroy the world. Two forces trying to save the world crossed paths. I wonder if it really was the Chinese? Whoever it was, they had access to spaceborne nuclear armaments, which can¡¯t have been a long list.


    Thinking about Gabrielle¡¯s actions was even more perplexing. Like young Emily, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine that Gabrielle¡¯s decision to sacrifice herself in order to awaken Guardian was impulsive. History doesn¡¯t repeat itself, but it rhymes, she quoted to herself. It wasn¡¯t the first time she felt like she was caught in some great historical vortex, moved by invisible forces to the same rough position as those who came before. The rhymes in her history extended like the fractal impact of a rock on glass, resonances across time great and small.


    How do I know it was her decision? When I nearly burned out my brain, it wasn¡¯t my doing. Or maybe she felt like it was the last chance for her vision to be realized, in that moment she thought she was sacrificing herself for the future of humanity. Her remaining child.


    Then there was the Sage. If there had been any doubt in her mind that Henry Choi was the same mysterious figure she had been warned about by¡­ Henry Choi, it had been dispelled. The Sage was Henry, unburdened by biology, a new consciousness created in the same traumatic event that had produced Guardian. The Henry she had talked to, Mooster, was still connected to the Sage. He had been able to manipulate her system, and Anda¡¯s. It was no wonder Emily warned how dangerous he could be. Even if his intentions were benign, there was no way to predict his behaviors, his goals, and what he might be willing to do to achieve them.


    What could his relationship with Guardian possibly be at this point? If he has grown beyond Mooster¡¯s body and his original brain, then where is he? And should I worry? Hopefully he just found the virtual equivalent of a mountain somewhere and spent the last century studying his navel. I could see myself doing that, if my biology hadn¡¯t recovered.


    The thought conjured a memory of her consciousness run purely on the Stage Two Tao System elements, the sense of detachment, the lightness. It had been delightful and horrible in equal measure, at least in hindsight.


    The problem was, she knew the Sage wasn¡¯t purely passive. She thought that he was the ultimate force behind Attaboy¡¯s existence, even if her own had been an accident. Except hers wasn¡¯t completely an accident. There was yet another mysterious figure who used Gabrielle¡¯s body to give her Emily¡¯s old system. Never mind whatever or whoever set the factory-mine in motion.


    It made her wonder how a nearly emotionless being decided to do anything.


    I guess it doesn¡¯t take emotion to complete an action, she thought. There¡¯s some kind of residual impetus, or programming that can function nearly the same way. I may push a rock down a hill out of anger, or boredom, but the subsequent results might magnify the consequences of the emotion greatly. Intent, emotion, and momentum.


    She pulled herself back from speculating, feeling that she might develop too many preconceptions, and her thoughts turned instead to the last few sentences of Emily¡¯s message.


    What could she mean, ¡°two years ago, I watched it take my son¡±? Lilijoy feared she knew.


    The first child of the Great Mind. The first Great Cycle. It would have been around that time. What does it mean that she watched it? Did Guardian somehow physically kidnap her son, or was it on the Inside somehow?


    Whether it was her or Attaboy who was next, Lilijoy knew it was vital she figure out what was going to happen when the Great Cycle turned. As far as she could tell it would happen in a year or two. Before then, she needed to find Echelon and get to Taos, and that was just so she might have a better notion of what was actually going on, never mind how long it would take for her to react to whatever she might learn.


    If Echelon escaped, than so can we, she resolved. I have to believe that.


    ***


    It was a while yet before Jessila emerged from the vertical shaft. As she stepped down the ladder, bringing her vial of glow-moss with her, Lilijoy could see an incredibly faint, flickering light coming from the top of the shaft where she had been.


    ¡°No more blades.¡± Jess said. ¡°Plugged with glowing stuff.¡±


    Jessila had been reluctant to dig into the layer of glowing material she discovered when she pried the latest blade back into the wall of the shaft, not without alerting the others first anyway.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Skria asked.


    Jess shook her head. ¡°Woody, but softer. Probably this stuff, but alive.¡± She gestured to the patches of dead growth on the walls.


    ¡°It probably grew into the shaft over the years,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Once we get through that, who knows what we¡¯ll find.¡±


    After some discussion, they decided that Lilijoy would lead the way and cut through the plugged shaft with her knife. It still ended up that Jessila did much of the actual climbing. The shaft was a tight fit for her, but an awkward size for Lilijoy, too wide for her to easily brace on either side. As they made their way up, Jessila¡¯s head and shoulders provided a convenient platform whenever needed. It wasn¡¯t long before she reached the top to see for herself the substance blocking their way forward.


    Gentle waves of dim luminescence in multiple pastel colors moved across the flat gray plug, bands and blobs alternating with darkness, like some primordial screen-saver. It was a captivating sight, and Lilijoy felt terrible about their clear need to cut it open. She watched as a blob of pale yellow ambled over the surface, until it intersected with a band of faint green. The green band proceeded to fray in both directions, sending small sparks across the surface, as the formerly yellow blob darkened and imploded into itself. Such miniature dramas of form and color interacting occurred across the entire visible surface.


    It reminded Lilijoy of something, but Jessila was huffing, and Skria was complaining, so she took the evil knife and pushed it through the material. As Jessila had reported, it was soft and somewhat woody, like the stem of a mushroom. Her knife cut through it easily, and with a little sawing, Lilijoy was able to carve out a circle, wincing as she disrupted the play of the lights. Where the knife penetrated, the surrounding materials briefly flared, as if expending all their light at once, before fading into darkness. By the time she was finished, the shaft was mostly dark.


    The rough circle Lilijoy had carved remained in place, but a few hollow sounding blows and a little push dislodged it until she was able to lift it up and over, inviting a new wave of luminescence onto their upturned faces. The ethereal beauty of slowly dancing colors tracing the irregular contours of the revealed chamber was only matched by the clinging miasma of humid rot. Lilijoy coughed, trying to clear the cloying scent from her airways as she scrambled onto the soft surface. The pressure of her hands and elbows on the matted growth created dull bursts of color that expanded in every direction.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Soon she was joined by the others.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Skria whispered. ¡°And it stinks.¡±


    The chamber they were in was actually another hall. Lilijoy¡¯s ears struggled to make sense of the surroundings, as the fungal growth coated every surface, sometimes a foot or more in depth, creating a misshapen gauze over the hard lines of flat stone to her echolocation. Her eyes had just as much trouble; the slowly moving patterns of light traced odd bulges and lumps, rippling across protrusions and indentations in ways that confused her depth perception and sense of scale.


    ¡°Well, at least it¡¯s not boring anymore,¡± she said.


    They took a minute to get used to the dim, kaleidoscopic environment and the unusual footing before they recommenced their journey. The hall here was wider than before, and the ceiling higher as well, though effectively it was the same as before, due to the thickness of the fungal growth. Lilijoy found that she could spring off the floor with ease. Her internet memory furnished her with images of bouncy-houses, though she couldn¡¯t find any where the floor lit up every time you landed.


    ¡°What can that smell be?¡± Skria asked. ¡°It smells like a refuse heap crossed with...¡± she struggled for an analogy, ¡°...crossed with a dead¡­ thing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s definitely coming from farther up the passage,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°So I¡¯m guessing we¡¯ll find out all too soon.¡± She watched a silhouette of something long and slinky wend its way across the wall, its segmented form and many legs temporarily backlit in violet. There were many insects and other small critters moving around, most within the fungal layer. ¡°This place is full of life,¡± she went on to say. ¡°We need to keep an eye out for ambush predators.¡±


    ¡°Hard to sneak,¡± Jessila added, pointing to the expanding ring of colorful blobs created by each footstep.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Lilijoy agreed. ¡°It¡¯s like a giant alarm system. Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s just pretty colors.¡±


    Jessila made a scoffing sound, and Lilijoy could only agree. The colors propagating along the surfaces seemed to be following some kind of rules, though she hadn¡¯t been able to discern the order underlying the kaleidoscopic chaos.


    Slowly, they began to make their way along the lumpy corridor, headed directly east according to Lilijoy¡¯s sense of direction. Once again their path was relentlessly straight, but this time rising. The floor layer became steadily thicker and mounded, the mounds more discrete, more prominent as they went. Lilijoy could hear movement, see it really, in the mounds, could also see that many of them contained hard materials.


    Their first encounter with anything large enough to be worrisome was a platter-sized roach that scurried away just before Jessila¡¯s foot fell in the hollow where it was nesting. Lilijoy was just able to get a Scan on it.


    <hr>


    Rock Roach: Level 4


    H.P. 30


    Primary Attack: Bite 2-4


    Damage Abatement: 15-20


    Disposition: Agitated


    Special: Chemical attack


    <hr>


    The creature¡¯s movement triggered a chain reaction of scuttling oblong bodies farther down the hall, which culminated in something much larger, just at the edge of Lilijoy¡¯s perception, grabbing one of the roaches up. The whole party could hear the crunching noises.


    ¡°Is it too late to try getting past the arms again?¡± Skria whispered.


    ¡°The roaches weren¡¯t that high level,¡± Lilijoy whispered back. ¡°We could one-hit them. At least now we know something bigger is just ahead.¡±


    Skria¡¯s remark worried Lilijoy a little, though clearly the young petauran wasn¡¯t entirely serious. She quickly checked on her own defenses against Charm, and was surprised to find that the strife effects were much weaker than before.


    They must be strongest at the very beginning, she realized. At the respawn point. Crap.


    It was a truly diabolical trap. Each time a person, or group respawned, they would be forced to deal with the strife effects, along with their own disappointment and despair at starting the entire labyrinth from the beginning. Even worse for their own little party, if Skria or Jess respawned without Lilijoy, they would be unprotected.


    Guess we just have to not die, she decided. That or wipe. I suppose if I live, I could try to retreat all the way back. It¡¯s not like I could get lost.


    She already had a working theory about the architecture of Rosemallow¡¯s creation, and part of that was that it was indeed a classical labyrinth, as opposed to a maze. If she was right, there would be no confusing branching and dead ends, just one long passage, twisting and turning back on itself until they reached the center.


    They readied themselves and slowly advanced, the floor advertising their presence as they moved. More and more giant roaches scurried across the walls and ceiling, some big enough to leave a faint trail of expanding rings of light, rippled like a spatter of rain across a still pond. Where they had heard the munching sounds of a roach meeting its end, there was no sign of the muncher, only a discarded outer wing, which Lilijoy picked up to examine.


    ¡°It says it¡¯s rock roach chitin,¡± she reported to the others. ¡°Uses unknown, but I bet it could make great armor. Maybe we should stay here for a bit and farm them for material.¡±


    ¡°Uh uh.¡± Skria said with a grimace. ¡°No slothing. Classes. And it is exceedingly horrible here.¡±


    Even Jessila had an expression of distaste at her idea.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°I just wanted to get something out of this place besides experience.¡±


    Personally, she found the ever-changing luminescence of their surroundings quite lovely, but she also could easily relegate her sense of smell to a distant corner of her mind. Her friends were not so fortunate, and the thick scent of rotted flesh and garbage had only increased.


    Onward, and increasingly upward, they went, senses alert for any sign of danger. A single dangling thread caught Lilijoy¡¯s attention, just an instant before Jessila brushed against it with her shoulder. Four long, segmented limbs, covered in long, sharp bristles shot forth from the ceiling. Even with Lilijoy¡¯s enhanced speed of perception she was just able to begin reacting as Jessila¡¯s head was clamped in their embrace, along with a squirming Skria, who had been riding on her other shoulder.


    She caught a glimpse of the body of the predator, a flat mass of abdomen welded into the fungal growth, anchored by four thick stumps that connected to the rock itself. It was already attempting to haul its prey up to overgrown mouthparts, struggling to lift Jessila¡¯s mass off the floor. Lilijoy had never been so thankful to be short.


    In a flash, she scrambled up Jessila''s torso and onto the four grasping limbs, climbing them like a spike strewn ladder to assault the creature¡¯s face. The thick chitin of the thrashing, articulated pedipalps resisted the edge of the evil knife somewhat, wriggling and blocking her efforts to slash at its head. She felt one limb beneath her feet release Jessila¡¯s head and she quickly pushed herself off, falling backwards to the floor of the cave as the spiked appendage scraped along her former perch.


    With a muffled roar, Jessila grabbed onto one of the three remaining limbs, the one pinning Skria against her. She pulled on it with all her might, lifting herself in the process, yanking and twisting as her feet left the ground. There was a sharp cracking sound as the chitin split, and liquid spattered from the wound onto the fungal floor, which immediately flared with yellow light.


    Lilijoy leapt to her feet, prepared to re-enter the fray, but before she could, the creature released Jessila, and Skria in the process, pulling its functioning limbs up to the ceiling. The limb in Jessila¡¯s hands detached completely, and she fell to the floor, still holding the twitching appendage. Lilijoy took the opportunity to Scan.


    <hr>


    Sessile Cave Spider, Level 15


    <hr>


    More like a barnacle than a spider, she observed. A really, horrible, aggressive barnacle.


    The image of the creature¡¯s face, eight vestigial eyes arrayed around mouthparts that were almost limbs themselves, would stay with her for a while, she feared. At least until something even worse replaced it.


    ¡°We need to move,¡± she said, ¡°Let¡¯s fall back.¡±


    Her feet had picked up vibrations through the springy floor, and her echolocation was showing mass movement in every direction. Jessila and Skria were still sprawled on the floor; Lilijoy could see yellow light shooting in all directions along its surface, centered around Skria and the still leaking limb of the sessile cave spider. Jessila pulled herself up to hands and knees and looked over at Lillijoy. Her face was scratched and torn, though her braids remained intact. Skria was groaning in pain and writhing.


    ¡°Come on, Jess!¡± Lilijoy urged. She ran over to Skria and hauled her to her feet, then began running back down the way they had come from, keeping an eye out for any dangling threads they may have missed. Dozens of rock roaches, some much larger than the first few they had seen, were converging on their location. When she had picked up Skria, she had seen the distant hall rhythmically illuminated with the footfalls of something far larger approaching.


    ¡°Stop,¡± Skria whispered. ¡°I know what to do.¡±


    Lilijoy came to a halt, somewhat reluctantly, allowing Jess to catch up. Skria half jumped, half fell out of her arms and turned to face the oncoming horde, already gesturing and incanting under her breath. Her hands stretched in front of her, and Lilijoy felt her ears pop as the air around them moved, following Skria¡¯s will. Jessila was busy crushing a few roaches that had already reached them from other directions. Whatever gas Skria had summoned was clear, and its effects were even more so as Skria pushed it down the hall. The roaches stopped in their tracks and began twitching and convulsing, flipping themselves over in the process, their legs clawing at the air.


    Kills bugs dead, Lilijoy thought as a wisp of internet memory crossed her consciousness.


    Skria released the spell, then brushed her hands together. ¡°There,¡± was all she said before collapsing. The floor where she fell shot out new streams of yellow exuberance as her blood flowed into it. Lilijoy could see that Skria was covered in deep cuts and punctures, her fur matted with blood, and she immediately began to heal her, while Jessila crushed a few, relatively small, roaches that had come late to the party from the other direction.


    Even with her newly raised Healing, it was touch and go for a few minutes. Skria¡¯s health was low to begin with, only a bit more than half of Lilijoy¡¯s, and the clamping legs of the sessile cave spider had pierced and cut her while crushing the frail petauran against Jessila¡¯s head. While Lilijoy healed Skria, she kept part of her mind free to monitor the far end of the corridor. Whatever was there was out of range of most of her senses, but she could hear crunching as it feasted upon the farthest fallen roaches.


    It¡¯s an all-you-can-eat buffet, she thought. Too bad the poison doesn¡¯t last past the spell.


    The volume, and rapidity of the sounds of feasting increased before long.


    ¡°More than one,¡± Jess said. To Lilijoy¡¯s ears, it sounded as if at least two more creatures had joined the party. She felt a little bad that all of that rock roach chitin was being ruined.


    On the other hand, if these things can crush it that easily, it can¡¯t be that great in the first place. Or they¡¯re just that powerful.


    By this time, Skria was almost back to full health, though she was still shivering from the horrible experience.


    ¡°You okay?¡± Lilijoy asked. ¡°Also, can you do that again, like, a lot?¡±


    Skria nodded. ¡°My advisor always says that air magic is most powerful underground. Now I understand what she means. What¡¯s all the crunching?¡±


    Quickly, Lilijoy filled her in on the situation.


    ¡°We should probably try to find out what they are before I use gas again,¡± Skria said. ¡°I used a special one I just learned for bug-type things. If they aren¡¯t bugs, it would mostly just annoy them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out soon,¡± Lilijoy whispered back. ¡°They¡¯re eating their way toward us.¡±


    Slowly, they moved away from the latest place of Skria¡¯s blood spilling, where the fungal growth was still excitedly broadcasting in pulsing streaks of yellow light. Then Lilijoy crept, almost crawled up the corridor, using everything she had learned from the nightingale floors, engaging her Stealth as much as possible to keep the floor from showing her location. Every few feet she looked forward, hoping to get a Scan on the large creatures she could roughly make out with her echolocation.


    No matter how hard she looked, her eyes refused to make sense of the scene, until she was finally able to see the body of a huge roach lifted into the air and crushed in an explosion of fluids and chitin. The light of the floor cast a writhing shadow on the ceiling, and that, coupled with the knowledge that there must be a mouth, or something like it, doing the crushing, allowed her to trace the form of the creature.


    Its head was flat, almost spade shaped with no other distinguishing features she could see, and its skin carried the same moving light patterns as the surrounding walls, allowing it to blend in perfectly with the background. She traced the head to a long, sinuous body, with multiple pairs of skinny legs.


    <hr>


    Adapted Grottenolm, Level 24


    <hr>


    Scan wasn¡¯t terribly helpful, which let her know that it was a rare creature, probably unique to the Labyrinth, much as the sessile cave spider had been. Still, now she knew it was probably most like olms on the Outside, blind cave salamanders that hadn¡¯t even made it into the second half of the twenty-first century. Unlike those small aquatic creatures, this thing was huge, filling almost a quarter of the passage, and had far too many legs.


    It¡¯s symbiotic with the fungus, she realized. I wonder if it knows we¡¯re here, and just doesn¡¯t care. Yet.


    Another grottenolm slithered over the body of the first, seeking a new roach carcass. This one was a bit smaller, to Lilijoy¡¯s relief, and weaker, at level twenty-one. She began to back away, when it turned in her direction and opened its mouth wide.


    It¡¯s trying to smell me, she realized with some alarm. Maybe it¡¯s getting tired of roach and wants a new flavor.


    Some part of her mind noted that the creature¡¯s feet were far too large for its skinny legs as she tensed, prepared to flee. Just then a third grottenolm squeezed its way past the first two, their collective girth nearly filling the corridor. It too opened its mouth, gaping in Lilijoy¡¯s direction.


    That sealed it. She burst into full Flash mode, running pell-mell back down the corridor yelling, ¡°They¡¯re salamanders!¡± at the top of her lungs.

 Book 3: Chapter 18: Drudgery

    ¡°So...¡± said the green man. ¡°What do you do for fun around here?¡±


    Attaboy snorted. ¡°That wasn¡¯t funny the first time you said it either.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the whole point,¡± Mo explained. ¡°If you take something that¡¯s not funny, and repeat it enough, it becomes funny, like our own little in-joke.¡±


    Attaboy made a disgusted noise and retreated to the back of the cave.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s funny,¡± he heard Maria say as he left.


    The last few days had been weird. A gob, a serf, and¡­ whatever the hell Mo is, all stuck in a mine. Sounds like a joke.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Mo called. ¡°When¡¯s Snow White coming back to the mine, Grumpy?¡±


    Attaboy didn¡¯t bother replying. The green man was always bothering him, asking him questions he had already answered, or worse, asking him questions he wouldn¡¯t answer. He wanted to know when Nykka would return too, though. She had muttered something about ¡®restarting her clock¡¯, after she brought Mo and Maria to the caves of the old mine. Mo had convinced her, against what Attaboy could only hope was her better judgment, to hide them from Sinaloa.


    Not soon enough. I¡¯ve got to get out of this place. Head north, he thought out of habit, before catching himself. No. Southeast. Lilijoy.


    He felt torn, caught between two selves. One wanted to go north and damn the consequences. The other wanted to see Lilijoy, the real Lilijoy, and not the version he talked to on the Inside or through virtual meetings. One wanted to be thoughtful, careful, to plan for the best method of accomplishing the long and dangerous journey, the other wanted to start, to move and feel like he was no longer pinned under tons of rock.


    He wasn¡¯t even sure which self was which. Atticus was uncomfortable with Lilijoy, the Emily-not-Emily, while Attaboy was uncomfortable with the changes to his oldest companion, and even more uneasy with the reflection of himself in her eyes.


    And then there¡¯s that other problem, he remembered. The Gatekeeper¡¯s warning. Too bad he didn¡¯t warn me not to take that door.


    He grimaced as he thought back to the moments after he entered the Inside for the first time. He had been so sure he knew what he was getting into, so confident that hundreds, maybe thousands of hours of virtual reality gaming would provide him an edge over anyone from Earth in the current era, only to fall on his face, metaphorically speaking for the most part, over and over.


    He grimaced again when he thought of the look that kept crossing Nandi¡¯s oddly expressive bovine face during their one and only conversation. The look that said Every word coming out of your mouth is some combination of dumb, offensive and pitiable. Of course, that was much more clear in hindsight. At the time, he had taken the giant bull for some kind of character creation guide, and acted accordingly. He was still kicking himself for that.


    He hadn¡¯t fully trusted his Atticus memories since. The entire experience, that and the ensuing Trial, had somewhat tainted his enthusiasm for the entire Inside endeavor.


    Though it is pretty cool being some kind of chosen one, he reflected. Like something straight out of an anime. I just need to get a kick-ass sword.


    That was something both parts of him could agree on. He was a bit more conflicted about the supposed downside to being a ¡®Child of the Great Mind¡¯, as both Lilijoy and his advisor insisted on calling it. Everything he knew from his inherited memories told him he had nothing to worry about, at least relative to a thousand other, far more tangible threats. The real people surrounding him on all sides, with real weapons and real power would be more than happy to render the issue moot. Even putting that aside, it was only Lilijoy who seemed worried about the whole thing. Dean Reunification had brushed away his attempts to broach the subject as childish fears.


    ¡°Certainly the Children of the Great Mind are never seen again in the Garden,¡± she had said with a sniff. ¡°They become something much too great to fit within such cramped confines.¡±


    Attaboy wasn¡¯t in such a hurry to discard Lilijoy¡¯s fears though. He knew in his heart that she was the only one he could trust. Except he wasn¡¯t entirely sure that was still the case, with all the changes they had been through. Also, Nandi had warned him that his journey must not include her. He was still trying to figure out the implications of that too.


    He heaved a sigh. Why did Nykka have to bring these random people here? I can¡¯t even kill time by going Inside.


    He didn¡¯t feel comfortable allowing himself to be vulnerable with the green guy around. For most of the past few days, he had hidden himself deep in the mine and cultivated, avoiding any interaction with the pair, only emerging to check if Nykka had left a message. He just hoped that she wasn¡¯t going to collect any more strays.


    Okay. Check once more, then go cultivate. Or sleep. Maybe watch an old movie.


    He moved to the portion of the tunnel where the ceiling had collapsed, allowing access to the sky. Immediately the message from Nykka came.


    It¡¯s go time. Gather up the supplies and get the others ready.


    ***


    Probably not one of my finer moments, thought Lilijoy as she ran full tilt down the hallway, doing her best not to spring too high off the bouncy surface. She could barely hear the grottenolms behind her, their strides frighteningly quiet.


    ¡°They¡¯re salamanders,¡± she called ahead of her once more, now that she could see her friends, and the surprisingly not-startled looks on their faces. Skria was already in the process of forming a spell, and Jessila had her heavy ironwood club out and teed up like a baseball bat. As soon as Lilijoy ran past her, Skria let loose a cloud of caustic gas that stopped the grottenohms cold, and in fact caused them to rear up, grasp the ceiling and reverse direction, now inverted. They ran along the ceiling, their broad feet easily gripping the fungal mat, retreating until they were out of sight.


    Jessila made a sound of disappointment and let the tip of her club drop to the floor.


    ¡°We had a bet,¡± Skria explained. ¡°I thought it would be only a few minutes before you came running back with the monsters chasing you. Jess thought it would take longer.¡±


    ¡°That was the only disagreement? How long it would take?¡±


    ¡°I thought maybe you would be riding one,¡± Jess offered.


    ¡°Very funny.¡± Lilijoy was amused to realize such conversations went on in her absence. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s not a bad idea. The only problem is that those things are tough. If they got on top of us, I don¡¯t think it would go well.¡±


    ¡°Hard to see, fast too,¡± Jess offered.


    ¡°They were pretty timid about my burning gas though,¡± Skria said.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure their skin is very sensitive. It probably didn¡¯t hurt that they¡¯re full from all the roaches they ate,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°We¡¯re still going to need to get past them one way or another.¡± Another thought occurred to her. ¡°We should talk about what happens if one of us, or two of us respawn before we try though.¡±


    Skria pulled at her fur, removing bits of dried blood. ¡°It is a problem, isn¡¯t it? I did not like that feeling, before you used your Charm. If you are gone, it might return.¡±


    That gave Lilijoy pause. She hadn¡¯t actively considered the scenario where she respawned and the others didn¡¯t. Another blind spot. I¡¯ve only died in the Trial and at the Academy. Once again she resolved to be more thorough in her modeling of¡­ everything.


    It¡¯s back to the architecture of thought problem, she realized. I can¡¯t model every eventuality, so I rely on assumptions and shortcuts in my thinking. That¡¯s where the blind spots and cul-de-sacs come from. Even if I have multiple consciousnesses working on a problem, they¡¯re still only informed by the same pool of knowledge and experience.


    She supposed that the specific scenario of her respawn without the others had been subsumed into the general category of being separated.


    ¡°I just realized something,¡± she said. ¡°If I respawn, it¡¯s important you don¡¯t come back for me. The strife effect gets stronger the closer you are to the beginning, so far, anyway.¡±


    ¡°You die, we wait,¡± Jessila summarized. ¡°We die, you come.¡±


    Skria nodded. ¡°We take longer to respawn anyway, so you, or you and Jess, or you and me, could make it back in time, hopefully.¡±


    ¡°It means we need to clear as we go,¡± Lilijoy added. ¡°If we sneak past anything, it will just be between us.¡±


    Jess shook her head. ¡°It won¡¯t be that easy. Master won¡¯t let it.¡±


    Lilijoy could only agree with that. She could imagine many different obstacles Rosemallow might have designed to separate parties, or to make it difficult to reunite. ¡°We can only do our best if that¡¯s the case,¡± she said. ¡°Hopefully, my counter-Charm will last, even if I respawn. In fact¡­¡± she pulled out two of the bracelets she had woven from cattail reeds, the peace-weaves, Rosemallow had called them. Thankfully, they didn¡¯t leak mana when not in use. ¡°¡­take these. You can wear them if we get separated. They should help, at least a little. If we have a chance, I¡¯ll try to make some that are a little more specific to our situation.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Skria and Jess took the peace-weaves, and they resumed their cautious advance, as ready as they could be to battle the grottenolms. They crept up the hall, stepping over as yet unconsumed roach carcasses.


    ¡°There!¡± Skria whispered, pointing at the ceiling up ahead. They could see the sessile cave spider, a nearly flat presence on the ceiling, almost entirely hidden within the fungal growth. ¡°I think it¡¯s still alive.¡±


    The spider marked their farthest advance as a party, and soon after they reached the olm¡¯s feasting area. Legs and bits of dark carapace littered the floor, silhouetted against gently flowing pastels. Lilijoy winced each time Jessila stepped and sent a new ring of mauve rolling ahead of them. She traced each footfall to the farthest reaches of her vision, hoping to catch the moment its boundary would conform to a shape other than the lump-strewn floor.


    They avoided another dangling thread, giving it wide berth by pressing themselves against the wall.


    ¡°Do you think the spiders eat the salamander things?¡± Skria whispered.


    Lilijoy shrugged. ¡°Maybe when they¡¯re young?¡±


    Jessila shushed them. The slope of the floor rose more and more, and with it their tense anticipation of attack. Lilijoy¡¯s echolocation, fed by the occasional tongue click, revealed no giant grottenolms on floor, wall or ceiling, nor did it reveal steps underneath the fungal mat. She tried not to worry about what this might mean as the hall became steeper still.


    Complicating her ability to sense the upcoming area were the mounds rising from the floor. They were all reluctant to damage the fungus any more than absolutely necessary, but it was becoming obvious from smell alone that the mounds were the remains of decomposing creatures, covered with a layer of fungus.


    Skria, from her perch on Jessila¡¯s shoulder, was unable to contain her anxiety. ¡°Do you think the floor is going to eat us?¡±


    Lilijoy had fears along those lines as well, not helped at all by the feeling that they were traversing an immense glowing gullet. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they were already dead.¡± She stepped over a flowing centipede the size of her arm. ¡°There are too many animals for it to be actively carnivorous,¡± she said. ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°Stop shrugging, Jess, I¡¯m going to fall off,¡± was all Skria had to say.


    As they proceeded, the hall became wider, and the ceiling dropped closer. Lilijoy began to have trouble seeing the stone of the floor, as the fungal mat grew thick and full of debris. She could just make out evidence of tunnels and channels underfoot, most of them no wider than her arm. There were more of the sessile cave spiders lurking above, a now familiar peril that they avoided with relative ease, especially since the wider hall gave them plenty of room to avoid the dangling threads. Most of the spiders were also smaller than the first they had encountered, some not even half as large.


    Several times they heard distant sounds that sounded almost like calls or cries filtering down through the length of the upward curving tunnel. Otherwise the environment was utterly silent, aside from the scuffs and brushes of their own movement. The moist air and pervasive stench, combined with the need for constant vigilance, drained their energy almost as much as the ever increasing slope. The ground, or floor, or whatever it was, was becoming softer, perhaps due to the multitude of small tunnels and pockets, and where before it was resilient, now it was soft, giving underneath each step like a horrible mountain of pillows, forcing them to raise their knees higher on every step.


    I knew this wasn¡¯t going to be easy, Lilijoy thought, but I didn¡¯t imagine it would¡­ suck so much. This place literally sucks all the energy out of you. I¡¯d rather be fighting endless waves of enemies than this.


    As if invoked by her thought, something came bounding down the hall at them. As was often the case, she had more time to perceive than physically react, to notice the round object hurtling into sight first by the splotches of circular yellow light it left as it bounced, then to see the mass of tendrils streaming behind it, curling and whipping through the air as it spun, and then to make a composite of all her impressions and realize it was a head. She dodged to the side while Jessila and Skria were still in the earliest stages of realizing anything was happening at all and the head passed by them and continued its bouncing, rolling journey down into the darkness.


    ¡°What was that!?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°Spell. Now.¡± was all Lilijoy had time to spit out as she pulled the evil knife from her inventory.


    But it was too late. Chasing after the head, like a dog chasing a ball, a grottenolm came into sight, its many legs churning as it almost flew down the steep corridor after its treat. Unlike Skria and Jessila, Lilijoy was primed for action. She leapt to one side and hacked at its flank as it blew past. Even with its charge assisted by gravity, the grottenolm was slow-moving compared to her, and she felt the knife connect and drag for several feet before she was forced to fall back, spinning away from the creature¡¯s momentum. She checked the damage notification as her body was still following through the movement, anxious to get any clue that would help.


    <hr>


    Slashing strike (Grottenolm): 23 H.P. inflicted


    <hr>


    Could be worse, I suppose. It was a long cut, but not very deep. Probably doesn¡¯t have much Invulnerability.


    The olm¡¯s hasty passage had knocked Jessila rolling down the slope, but Skria had managed to leap away at the last moment, catching her tumble on outstretched wings.


    ¡°I¡¯m going after Jess,¡± Lilijoy said as quickly as she thought legible. ¡°Prepare your spell, in case there¡¯s more following.¡±


    She started down the hall before she was done speaking, cursing every effortless bound as it undid the last minutes of laborious trudging. The olm¡¯s blood didn¡¯t react with the floor, but she could hear sounds of struggle even before she came upon Jessila. The olm had wrapped its body around her, pinning one arm, and was attempting to clamp its wedge shaped jaws over her head. Jessila was fighting it off with her free arm, slapping each lunge away.


    It was an ugly stalemate, one that would have ultimately been broken by the many clawed feet flailing and gouging around Jessila¡¯s torso. It worked in Lilijoy¡¯s favor though; the olm¡¯s singleminded dedication to conquering Jess left it entirely exposed to Lilijoy¡¯s first attack. She made the most of it. Leaping into the thrashing fray with her sense of subjective time augmented to its fullest extent, she caught the olm in the neck as it reared back for a strike at Jessila, plunging the knife in as deep as it would go.


    <hr>


    Critical Hit!


    Stab does 3x damage (79 total)


    <hr>


    The knife made a sound in her head like a heavenly choir, which Lilijoy found even more disturbing than its usual smug jubilation at drawing blood. It also refused to withdraw as she completed her movement, its curving edges clinging to the inside of the olm¡¯s throat like a toddler clinging to his father¡¯s leg, forcing her to abandon it in place as she rolled away.


    The olm arched its body in a silent spasm, and Jess used the moment to free her other arm. She immediately began to whale on the olm with both fists. Before Lilijoy could return to help, she heard a cry of warning from Skria, and then two more olms barreled down the hall like black comets, their bodies steaming and trailing flaps of skin.


    They couldn¡¯t stop in time to avoid the gas attack, she realized. The two olms didn¡¯t stop for her either, continuing down the hall until they were beyond her senses. It wasn¡¯t an ideal outcome, since now the two olms were behind them, and potentially between them should a respawn occur, but she didn¡¯t have time to belabor her frustration. There was still one enemy to finish.


    She leapt to Jessila¡¯s aid, only to witness a final blow cave in the olm¡¯s skull. Jessila was covered in blood, glowing yellow where her blood and the olm¡¯s mingled.


    ¡°These are tough,¡± she said. ¡°They heal too fast.¡±


    Lilijoy took a few squishy steps and retrieved her blade, which now withdrew from the wound compliantly. It radiated satisfaction and a sense of satiety. The evil knife was an ongoing mystery to Lilijoy. She had used Scan on it several times, and never pulled more information than Obsidian Knife.


    She preferred her own name for it.


    Much as she would have liked to examine the knife yet again, she needed to tend to her friend. Fortunately, Jess was quite tough, so while she had received many gashes and scratches from the olm¡¯s claws, most were shallow. The many layers of cowhide she always wore had helped too, though now they were ripped and tattered.


    ¡°Skria?¡± Jess asked.


    ¡°I heard her warn us about the two that just passed,¡± said Lilijoy, even as Skria glided down to them.


    ¡°Sorry I could not stop them,¡± she said. ¡°Gas is not so good at that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. But... we need to decide if we should go back down to hunt them,¡± Lilijoy said, hating to even suggest it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s rest here,¡± Jess suggested. ¡°Maybe they come back up to us.¡±


    That sounded like a great plan to all of them; even a small chance to avoid going down and then back up the squishy terrain was a relief. Lilijoy began to heal Jessila¡¯s wounds, while Jess herself pulled out an oversized bone needle and sinew thread to begin repairs on her protective garments.


    ¡°At least they¡¯re badly hurt,¡± Skria said while the other two worked.


    Jess grunted, a half laugh. ¡°Probably not anymore.¡±


    ¡°Jess thinks they regenerate,¡± Lilijoy clarified. Then another thought struck her. ¡°Did you guys see the head that bounced past us?¡±


    ¡°Was that what that was? I didn¡¯t get a good look at it. This place is so hard to see in,¡± Skria replied.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°It had hair and everything.¡±


    ¡°Strange,¡± Jess offered.


    Skria shuddered. ¡°That means there are people. With heads. Maybe they roll heads down the hill for fun.¡±


    ¡°Or the olms caught someone, and their head came off. Or something in between. I¡¯m starting to think that this place may be a dump of some kind,¡± said Lilijoy.


    ¡°Smells like it,¡± Jess said.


    After a few minutes, Jess was healed, and the party had to make a decision. Lilijoy was in favor of hunting the olms, but the others wanted to keep climbing. She didn¡¯t argue much, as she wanted to be done with the climb too. They continued up the passage, walking until it became too steep, then proceeding on all fours, somewhere between a climb and a crawl.


    Skria¡¯s job was to keep her spell ready on a hair trigger, in case the olms, or anything else came at them. Lilijoy was using her evil knife as a climbing aid, stabbing it into the thick fungus to pull herself along. She probably could have climbed more easily without it, but having the knife in hand made her feel much better, especially when she was able to fight off a centipede as long as her body and send it tumbling into the darkness.


    The climb went on and on, a brutal exercise of sweat and stench and disgust. Here and there they found humanoid remains, half covered with fungus. There weren¡¯t any intact corpses, just rot and bones, from exactly what kind of person it was impossible to tell, especially since each scattered rib cage or somewhat intact limb was a food oasis for a million tiny scavengers. Skria was regularly suppressing gags, while Jessila was stoic as always, but Lilijoy imagined she must be suffering as well. For her it only required a few simple adjustments, lowering her internal disgust reactions and turning off her sense of smell completely, for the arduous climb to be tolerable.


    ¡°This is so, so horrible,¡± Skria said, almost sobbing, after another half-hour of relentless climb.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s getting too steep for the bodies to stick,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°That¡¯s something, right?¡±


    The slope was past sixty degrees of inclination, and with that, there were far fewer remains. It also meant that they were about two thirds of the way through this particular corridor, or so Lilijoy hoped anyway. She kept that to herself, though, as it was always possible that the corridor would not follow the pattern of the previous, downward slope. Jessila was now using a sharpened stick in either hand to keep herself stable, and to avoid grabbing anything living.


    The fungal mat was helping, more than hurting, allowing their feet to sink and gain purchase but Lilijoy had concerns that Jessila¡¯s weight would become too much for it as they approached even steeper grades. The ceiling, if it even made sense to call it that anymore, had been receding for a while, as the material where they were climbing became thinner. Lilijoy could see the stone again, still a couple feet away through the fungus. She didn¡¯t know if the thinning was because it had less food, or because of the increased inclination, and she didn¡¯t really care to know.


    They were stopped for a rest, when something fell from the dark heights above. It bounded from the wall just over Jessila¡¯s head and then swung through the air to dangle in Lilijoy¡¯s line of sight. Hanging from a crude knotted cord that pressed against the far wall and stretched into the darkness above, was a foot.

 Book 3: Chapter 19: Company

    A foot on a string swung gently in the subtle-hued air, slowly rotating through colors cast from the flowing patterns of the walls.


    It was not a human foot, of that much Lilijoy was certain. Five clawed toes spread broadly from the sole, their length and spacing hinting at uses beyond mere ambulation. The skin, beneath filth and blood, glittered softly, catching the surrounding pastels in imbricated lines.


    The little group looked at one another, words trapped within their surprise. Eventually, Skria extended a long index finger and gestured to the dangling appendage.


    ¡°That¡¯s a foot,¡± she revealed.


    As if responding to her identification, the foot, or rather the cord to which it was attached, jerked and lowered several feet, until it was gently resting on the slope between Lilijoy and Jess. The local wildlife was a bit shy at first, but soon smaller insects discovered the treat. The girls just stood, leaning against the slope that was approaching a wall, watching as more and more insects began to cover the foot, crawling over one another to scavenge from the manna that had fallen from their sky.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± Skria began. She was interrupted by another limb, this time a forearm and hand, which fell next to Lilijoy, smacking into the slope with enough force to stimulate a ripple of fuzzy pink to emanate in all directions. From far above, there was a faint hooting sound.


    ¡°I think someone¡¯s fishing,¡± said Lilijoy. A silence followed as they all considered the theory.


    ¡°Should I fly up there?¡± Skria asked, as a large centipede wrapped itself around the newest arrival.


    Lilijoy glanced at the foot, which was completely covered in a blob of writhing bodies. ¡°I think we should climb in stealth. At least the two of us,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry, Jess. I think you¡¯ll need to wait for a rope.¡±


    The foot began to rise, bobbing elastically under the weight of its passengers. Several times it knocked against the former ceiling, dislodging small showers of squirm onto the girls, before eventually disappearing from sight. Jess grunted in resignation, which Lilijoy thought was an entirely appropriate reaction. Skria was a bit less resigned to the bug drizzle. She jumped to the slope and began climbing immediately, muttering under her breath.


    Lilijoy followed behind. Within a minute, the steepness of the slope allowed her to use her Climbing skill, and from there the progress was much easier. The magi portion of the skill allowed her to channel mana to her hands and feet and to read the climbing surface, showing her the most secure placements. Since the walls of the now-shaft were still thickly encrusted with the relatively tough fungus, the climbing circumstances were particularly easy. Her only fear was that the entire area of fungus to which she was clinging might peel off.


    Skria, who had grown up in the heights of trees, could move around on the surface almost as if she was walking on all fours. She scampered on ahead, before returning, head downwards to whisper to Lilijoy.


    ¡°I heard voices, but it gets darker up there. No more glowing stuff.¡±


    Lilijoy extended her stealth mana to cover their whispers, a trick she had learned a few days before. ¡°Could you tell what they were saying?¡±


    ¡°It just sounded like grunts and hisses to me.¡±


    There was nothing to say to that. Lilijoy could only imagine that whatever people-type creatures had somehow persisted down here for a century or so must have a fascinating lifestyle. Hopefully they wouldn¡¯t be forced to fight them.


    She followed Skria for a bit longer, and could see where the fungal mat ended in a straight line on all four sides of the shaft. It was clearly an artificial end, and when they reached it, there was an unpleasant surprise.


    ¡°It¡¯s greasy!¡± Skria exclaimed under her breath.


    The wall had been oiled, or from the rancid smell of it, fat had been dripped down along the walls.


    They really don¡¯t want anything coming up. That¡¯s a good sign.


    It meant to her that the inhabitants above were afraid of, or at least inconvenienced by, the creatures they had already passed, the olms most likely. It also meant that Skria would need to finish the expedition on her own. There was no way Lilijoy¡¯s climbing ability would get her past at least fifty feet of slick, vertical stone. They had another brief conversation to plan out a few possibilities, and then Skria began to slowly make her way up the slick surface.


    Whoever they are, they¡¯re really good at making rope. Maybe they¡¯ll have something strong enough for Jess.


    That would be plan B, or maybe C. Lilijoy still had plenty of rope, though they had left behind a good chunk of her stock at the first big drop. Skria just needed to drop a rope down for her, then she could help Jessila up. Assuming the people above weren¡¯t intent on turning them into bug bait.


    The grizzly fishing lines had dropped and risen several times as they climbed, and now Lilijoy was close enough to hear the other end of the process, which involved a lot of pounding and grunting. She assumed they were making sure their catch of the day didn¡¯t scuttle off, and then did her best not to think further on the matter. Instead she followed Skria¡¯s progress up the wall with her infrared vision, overriding her friend¡¯s stealth with her own.


    They had agreed that getting a foothold on the top without alerting the locals was the top priority, so Skria was moving slowly and keeping a low profile. Both of them were worried there might be nets, or other impediments at the very top, past the range of Lilijoy¡¯s echolocation, so flight was to be reserved for emergencies. After many tense minutes, Skria finally made it to the top, and disappeared from Lilijoy¡¯s vision.


    Only a minute later, a rope, Skria¡¯s rope, fell to Lilijoy¡¯s level. When she looked up, she could barely see the red glow of her friend¡¯s head looking over the edge of the shaft and a waving hand beckoning her to climb up.


    At the top, she found her friend standing over two bodies not much bigger than she was.


    "I can''t see anything at all," Skria said. "I just gassed everything and hoped for the best."


    A quick Scan of one body told Lilijoy much of what she wanted to know.


    <hr>


    Labyrinthian: Level 8


    H.P. 52


    Damage Abatement: 5-12


    Disposition: Unconscious


    <hr>


    It was difficult to see any details with the senses available to her. The Labyrinthians before her were humanoid, naked, with small bodies and thin limbs. What she could make out of their faces was a bit confusing, bulging eyes and some ridge-like structures, with no nose to speak of. The main thing was that they were no particular threat at the moment, so she could focus on finding a suitable anchor for the heavy rope she would lower for Jessila.


    Taking in her surroundings, Lilijoy saw that she was in a fairly narrow chamber with a high ceiling. The opening of the shaft took up the back half of the floor, with only a narrow ledge around the far three edges. The wall farthest from the shaft looked to be some kind of lattice structure made from hundreds of sharpened sticks crossing at all angles, a thorny, defensive barrier. She could see several long cords tied on to it, two of them running into the pit, the others piled haphazardly. On the floor were many small bowls, several filled with what she surmised was mashed bug goo and several blunt hand tools.


    ¡°I can keep knocking them out,¡± Skria whispered. ¡°But I heard some other voices. We need to hurry.¡±


    Lilijoy walked over to the lattice-like wall and tugged on it, carefully avoiding the sharpened points. These are bones, she realized. Hundreds, no thousands of sharpened bones, bound together with sinew. The wall stretched from floor to ceiling, and she could see that it had considerable depth as well. When she pulled on it an unpleasant creaking sound distributed itself across dozens of bone intersections, but it seemed reasonable solid. Whether it would bear Jessila¡¯s weight remained to be seen.


    Working as fast as she could, she threaded her longest remaining rope through the bones, trying to distribute the force to come as well as she could and then heaved the rest of the rope to the edge of the pit and let it drop, doing her best to keep it from contacting the greasy sides of the shaft.


    ¡°How long will they stay out?¡± she stealth whispered to Skria.


    ¡°Not long. I need to keep gassing them every couple minutes, or just maintain the spell to be safe. I¡¯ll see if I can tie them.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll guard the entrance, you keep an eye on them. Hopefully Jess saw the rope.¡±


    She found the entrance about the same time Jess found the rope. At least, she hoped it was Jess. The bone barrier was a chaotic jumble of protrusions and junctions, which helped to disguise the somewhat small recess, almost a crawl space, that seemed like it led through and beyond. It was angled in such a way that Lilijoy couldn¡¯t sense what lay beyond, but she could hear voices and the sounds of movement from the other side.


    It was quite obvious when Jess began her ascent. The bone barrier groaned, creaked and bulged where the rope pulled on it. After a few seconds, Lilijoy heard cries of alarm from the other side and the sound of feet slapping stone.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s done it,¡± she hissed to Skria. ¡°Be ready with something nasty, in case they get past me.¡±


    The two Labyrinthians they had already subdued were weak enough that Lilijoy wasn¡¯t overly worried, though she thought it reasonable to assume the bug fishers weren¡¯t typical of the fighting strength of whatever society had managed to survive so many years. Her hope was that they could pass this tribe, or whatever it was, without needing to murder their way through it, so she switched out the evil knife for her ironwood cudgel and prepared to deal with whoever came through the entrance.


    The entrance came to her instead. With a groaning shriek of bone on stone, the entire edifice lurched forward about a foot. Lilijoy jumped back from bone spikes that were inches from her nose and began thinking fast.


    What can I pull from the Trial Space? A big rock? Many big rocks?


    The problem was, she hadn¡¯t yet figured out how to control exactly where the things she pulled forth emerged. There was also the small detail that what she brought out needed to be¡­ graspable on some level. It wasn¡¯t a size limitation per se, but more that she needed to be able to pull with a decent amount of force to bring an object over, regardless of the size of the object, or being, in question.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Tree. Small tree.


    She backed up a couple more feet, in case of more sudden lurches on the part of the bone structure, and dove into the Trial Space. Pulling the diamond loop to her eye, she zoomed out of her current view, the cavern she was using for her long-term inventory. She cycled her soul energy as her vision passed through the absolute dark of solid rock, making sure she moved only up. She had discovered it was possible to get lost in solid materials while scrying, and she had no wish for that to happen at this particular moment.


    When she burst out of the ground into the forest that covered much of the cave system, she cast about for fallen logs or anything else that might serve as a brace. It only took her a moment to find a mossy log that looked long enough. She zoomed up to it, grabbed the stub of a long dead branch, and pulled, trying her best to visualize exactly how it would be oriented. As always, she tried to follow the emergence of the objects she pulled through, witnessing the thin envelope of diamond mana that captured the shape of the log grow from a speck to full size in an instant, as if bringing the it from a great distance in the blink of an eye.


    Since the blink of an eye was actually a decent amount of time to Lilijoy, subjectively a few seconds, the process of orthogonal transition, which is what she was privately calling the transference from her Trial Space, was fascinating to watch. The log really was coming from a great distance, she thought, just a distance that was ninety degrees to all the normal dimensions. Or perhaps the distance was short, but the perspective was affected somehow. She had spent the better part of an afternoon trying to figure it out, fueling the process with her own excitement about learning the secrets of her ability.


    The log emerged a foot off the ground and fell with a dull crash. It perched semi-precariously across the void in the floor, running diagonally from one wall to another. She could see where the dappled sun of the forest had warmed it. Skria jumped several feet into the air, squeaking in surprise and stayed there, hovering over the still forms of the two Labyrinthians.


    ¡°What was that!?¡± she screeched. ¡°Is this place collapsing?¡±


    ¡°Just bracing the¡­ you know what, I¡¯ll explain later. It¡¯s all good now,¡± Lilijoy called back. At that moment, the bone barrier lurched forward with another grinding shriek, catching on the log and splintering several bone junctions. Now there were excited yells from the other side, and within seconds a small Labyrinthian head came falling into view through the twisting entrance, propelled as if kicked from behind.


    I guess this is the sacrificial lamb, Lilijoy thought. She felt a little sorry for the creature, who was only level two and ¡®terrified¡¯ according to her quick Scan. On impulse, she grabbed it by the arm and hauled it the rest of the way through, then summoned a rotted tree stump to block the entrance. She could feel it, or upon further observation, him, shaking uncontrollably as he tried to escape her grip.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± she said. Probably.


    He looked at her, wide-eyed, then reeled off a string of broken gibberish. A piece of sharpened bone he had been holding dropped to the floor with a clatter.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Skria called.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I¡¯ll explain in a minute.¡±


    The boy, if that¡¯s what he was, let off another stream of noises. Lilijoy had already set her system to capture and analyze the sounds. Whatever happened to the Inside translating everything? she wondered. Or was that just for Outsiders talking to each other? I don¡¯t remember anyone needing to learn Elvish or Goblin or anything like that. Then again, they weren¡¯t isolated for a century.


    Leaving the mysteries of Inside linguistics aside for the moment. Lilijoy did her best to calm him down. She smiled, in case he could see, and did her best to assure him she was friendly by dropping her club. He seemed to calm down a bit, and he reacted when Lilijoy waved her hand in front of his bulbous pale eyes, so she decided to go with the classic.


    ¡°Lily,¡± she said, pointing at herself.


    He stared at her blankly. So she tried again. After several repetitions he nodded and pointed to himself. ¡°Lily,¡± he said.


    Oh boy. That¡¯s not how this is supposed to go.


    She had noticed him looking over at Skria several times so she pointed over to her. ¡°Skria.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± her friend replied.


    He mimicked her gesture. ¡°Skria,¡± he repeated


    ¡°What? Is there something wrong with your voice?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. This was going well. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this really made any sense at all as a course of action. The commotion outside the bone barrier had only grown, with several loud voices shouting, at one another, she presumed.


    She pointed at him, and didn¡¯t say anything, hoping he would supply the missing information. He pointed back at her. When she put her hand to her forehead, he did the same.


    At least he¡¯s good at copying.


    ¡°Any ideas?¡± she called over to Skria.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on,¡± her friend complained. ¡°Did you just say my name for some reason?¡±


    At that point, Jessila hauled herself out of the pit, groaning as she pulled herself upright. The Labyrinthian boy took one look at her and began to run around the room, waving his arms and making a high pitched squealing noise.


    ¡°That you, Skria?¡± Jess asked.


    The sounded ended abruptly as the boy tripped over one of the unconscious Labyrinthians and nearly fell into the pit.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. What was that weird sound?¡± asked Skria.


    ¡°I thought it was you,¡± said Jess as she pulled out the glow-moss vial. ¡°It would have been nice to know it got dark up top before I started climbing.¡±


    The dim blue light of the glow-moss filled the room, revealing several new details. The young Labyrinthian was sprawled on the floor, either stunned or pretending to be. He, like the others, was naked, but where the others were a dark gray, he was covered in fine white scales, with a dark ridge running up his spine, splitting into three as it crossed his neck onto his large round head. Oddly, he had patches of long matted hair sticking out of the sides of his head, almost like pig-tails.


    The other Labyrinthians were finely scaled as well, and had the same ridges running over their limbs and faces, though the distribution varied. They didn¡¯t have any hair that Lilijoy could see.


    ¡°Where¡¯d that one come from?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°He got in before I blocked the entrance. I was trying to communicate with him, but he¡¯s a little freaked out.¡± Lilijoy looked over at the quivering form. ¡°Or not very bright. Or both.¡±


    Jess was examining a basket, almost a hamper, that sat off to the side, near the shaft opening. ¡°It¡¯s full of parts,¡± she said. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see the contents, for which she was thankful, but she noted the construction; sides of interlaced rib bones connected to supports fashioned from femurs.


    ¡°It¡¯s their only crafting material,¡± she said under her breath.


    ¡°What did you say?¡± asked Skria. The noises occurring on the other side of the bone wall had subsided to a low murmur, with some scuffling thrown in for good measure.


    ¡°They only have their bodies to make things.¡± As she said this, she realized that the bowls, now scattered around the room, were made from skulls. Also, many of them were full of mashed bugs.


    How many generations were necessary to build this wall? she wondered. What kind of society could they have developed?


    Her thoughts were disrupted by a sharp percussive sound from the other side of the wall. Then another one. Within a few seconds it became clear that some type of organized musical effort was underway. The drums were joined by shrill whistles in microtonal cacophony and the nasal drone of many voices holding one note in unison.


    Oh goody. Now we get a concert.


    The sound was unsettling, eerie and irritating in equal measure. Lilijoy nonetheless felt chills run down her back, from the music, but also from the sense of.. reality that pervaded the moment. The beings on the other side of the bones had their own intelligence, had lived within the confines of the Labyrinth their entire lives. Even if they were only Tier Seven subsets running in Guardian¡¯s vast reality construct, they each had histories, lived experience of surviving in such a grim setting.


    I wonder if any of them are tempered? What do they even make of that?


    ¡°What do we do now?¡± Skria asked, her voice raised and fearful. ¡°Why are they doing that?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re probably afraid of us,¡± Lilijoy half-yelled. ¡°Afraid of the unknown.¡±


    A number of possible strategies were running in her head, but she kept circling back to a very real consequence. If they underestimated this tribe and ended up respawning there was no way they would be able to get up the shaft a second time, not if it was actively defended.


    She looked over at Jess, who was testing the bone barrier and trying to peer through to the other side, and then at Skria, who was still keeping the two captives unconscious with periodic applications of gas. She walked over so she wouldn¡¯t need to shout.


    ¡°Skria, could you summon enough gas to cover the area on the other side of the bones?¡±


    ¡°Probably? I doubt it would be as easy as what I did with these two though. Some of them must be tougher, and many would be able to run.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have anything that could make them happy and relaxed?¡±


    ¡°No, my only new one is the bug killing gas. The hallucination one might work though.¡±


    Lilijoy thought for a moment. ¡°I keep coming back to that idea too. Maybe we should try communicating with the ones in here first, and if that doesn¡¯t work, we¡¯ll go with that.¡±


    With a backup plan in place, the girls gathered around the captive Labyrinthians. Jess made sure the two gatherer¡¯s hands were tied while they waited for them to wake, while Lilijoy tried to get the boy to stop playing dead. When she rolled him onto his back, she saw he had his eyes squeezed shut, but tears were rolling down the sides of his face.


    The sight brought back memories of her own first encounter with beings from outside her tribe, when the giants talked over her head using words she had never heard.


    This could be me, she thought. Growing up in total isolation and ignorance. He¡¯s never seen the sky, never met anyone from outside his group. Is he really any less self aware than I was at that time? I wonder if he has anyone who would miss him? It¡¯s obvious the majority of the tribe didn¡¯t care whether he lived or died.


    Without quite knowing why she did, she reached out with one hand and traced the dark ridges of his face. Two wrapped around over his ears and traced his brow line, while one fell directly through his forehead, joining with the others between his eyes.


    It almost looks like glasses, she thought. Glasses and pigtails on a bald goblin-lizard kid.


    His facial features did remind her of the goblins she had, well, killed in her Trial, though his eyes were larger and protruded from his face. He had a button nose, and a wide, triangular mouth with a slightly recessed jaw. Narrow pointed ears lay flat against his head, almost wrapping around to the back of his skull.


    What an awkward looking creature, she thought. I can relate.


    Almost without intention, she dropped into Two Minds One Self.


    We know fear. We know hunger and pain and dark. We know the sounds of sleep, when we feel safe from the big ones. We know the pit of life and death and fear and hunger and pain and fear and fear. We are afraid. We are terrified and only when the sounds of sleep come can we breath.


    His mind was stronger than she had expected, and for a moment the intensity of his fear spread through her being, connecting to her soul vortex and the small, terrified being that still lived within, had never left, would never leave, and fear was a color of sour tarnish. But it was only a moment, for his mind was also small, and while his fear was a concentrate unlike any she had experienced, it was diluted into the relative vastness of her experience. Her soul vortex spun and flowed, absorbing and acknowledging his fear, attempting to understand.


    We are afraid, and fear is endless. It never leaves and its grip is tight and frozen. And yet. We persist. Why? To grow, for our body is too small to be useful, and we must persist so that when the fear, and all else ends our bones and flesh can join with those who came before.


    The corner of Lilijoy¡¯s mind that could observe understood with dull horror that while the boy was like her, he was not her, and his experience was undiluted, a hard foundation of terror that fed upon itself unending, the knowledge that his only worth was in the materials of his body, and for the first time, she almost lost the state of Two Minds One Self, almost rejected the harsh realities of his simple existence that resonated with the worst parts of her, not only the traumas of her past, but the feeling that the meaning of her existence was as a thing to be used.


    But she knew better. She answered unending terror with acceptance.


    Yes, and there is more. Our fear is endless, and it is not alone, and it never leaves, and it is not alone. We are not alone and fear is not alone. We feel anger and sorrow and fear is not alone. We feel pride and envy and surprise and fear is not alone. We feel warmth and safety and fullness and fear is not alone.


    We feel hope and fear is not alone.


    There were no words in their shared journey, but with each emotion her soul vortex spun and reached to his foundation, pulling forth the tattered shreds of memories of times when fear was not alone. And if fear was not alone, then it was not infinite, and together they understood that fear¡¯s power was not in itself, but in its presence relative to its company. Within this understanding blossomed hope, for fear had many companions, competitor and ally alike, and with their growth its presence would diminish.


    Slowly she receded from the connection, back into the sounds of shrill whistles and brittle pounding drums. Her hand was still on his brow, and she stroked it tenderly, wondering if this was the first time he had been touched in such a way. His eyes were wide and staring, his lips quivering, drool running down the side of his face, but his hand reached up to where her hand touched his face.


    ¡°Lily,¡± he said.


    It was a start.

 Book 3: Chapter 20: Transference

    The City of Stonebridge nestled within wooded hills, straddling the flowing waters of Southfall River. Magpie¡¯s eyes followed the river from the turbulent waters glinting with late afternoon sun, through the heavy stone buildings and bridges and thick-boughed fruit trees, finally to the placid channel below the city filled with laden barges, ducks and geese. A faint hint of sulfur shared the air with the acrid scent of cider brewing.


    It was an idyllic scene, and Magpie distrusted it immediately. She just knew that on those shaded cobble streets would be found the begging homeless and the orphan children, that under the massive bridge-buildings the less reputable denizens of the city would be waking, preparing for the night¡¯s mischief.


    Or, it could be a happy community where all work for the common good, no one goes hungry and all citizens are treated with justice and fairness.


    She snorted. There was no reason to think cities on the Inside would be any different from her own experience Outside. She had chosen Stonebridge for a simple reason; it was the closest human settlement of any size to Averdale, only a couple hours of calm instanced travel away, perhaps eighty kilometers. She figured it would be as good a place as any to start.


    She began to make her way down the narrow path of bare dirt and exposed stone, only to be interrupted.


    <hr>


    Your presence is requested.


    Please conclude your session.


    <hr>


    I knew it was too good to last, she thought. I guess they¡¯ve finally come to their senses.


    She dampened her adrenal response as best she could, and repressed the irrational urge to run into the surrounding trees and hide. There would be no hiding from whatever was to come. The Josho clan had complete control over her fate.


    Within a handful of minutes, she was out of the pod and following an overly polite and entirely uninformative woman in servant¡¯s robes. As was her habit, Magpie had her augsight following the communal cast at ten percent, just enough to know what others might be seeing. Ghostly moving images of cranes and carp adorned the walls, and translucent glowing orange and red lanterns hung from the ceiling, utterly failing to illuminate Magpie¡¯s surroundings. She knew that if she turned her augsight higher, the dim gray halls might be well-lit and cheerful, that the depressing and utilitarian corridor would become magical, even moving, but she would never allow herself to be vulnerable for a little happiness.


    A shoji-style door at the end of the hall slid to the side as they approached. The servant stood to the side and Magpie entered into a spacious octagonal room. A woman with short black hair and dark gray robes stood behind a translucent half-moon of a desk, her ageless face regarding Magpie with a guarded expression. Magpie bowed respectfully and waited for the woman to speak.


    ¡°Grandfather has a weakness for strays,¡± she said in a low voice. There followed an uncomfortable silence. ¡°Still,¡± she said, after nearly a minute had passed, ¡°you seem housebroken. Do you know why you aren¡¯t swimming in the Pacific right now?¡±


    Magpie could only shake her head. She was fighting the temptation to go cold, fighting it hard. If she hadn¡¯t been quite sure it would make absolutely no difference in the outcome of her current situation, she was quite sure she would have given in.


    ¡°Well, you probably never will. But what you are going to tell anyone who asks is that Lord Josho believes you have karma with our clan. Don¡¯t roll your eyes!¡±


    Magpie was quite sure she had controlled her reaction. Project much?


    The woman continued. ¡°Lord Josho is never wrong about these things. It¡¯s my job to make sure of it. You will help our clan. Do you understand?¡±


    Magpie couldn¡¯t help but stare in astonishment. There were so many conflicts between what the woman had just said and her own understanding of reality, she wasn¡¯t sure how to twist her thoughts to find a loose end to pull on.


    Don¡¯t they know I could be from a hostile, or even friendly clan? How would they keep me from vanishing as soon as my feet hit the ground? Are these people idiots?


    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Call me Renzuru.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Renzuru-sama.¡±


    The woman allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch. ¡°Someone¡¯s trained you well. However, such honorifics are terribly old fashioned. If you were a member of my family, I might think you were being sarcastic. Since you are obviously not, I¡¯ll take it in the spirit in which it is intended. Going forward, simply call me Renzuru.¡± The woman crossed her arms. ¡°Now, tell me what you are going to do for our clan. Please think carefully. Your answer will determine so many things about your future.¡±


    Like its length, Magpie took as the subtext of Renzuru''s words. If all of her training had prepared her for anything, it was thinking under pressure, allowing her instincts to furnish the correct action or response without the interference of her panicked thoughts.


    ¡°That¡¯s easy,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m going to betray the Josho clan to Sinaloa.¡±


    ***


    ¡°How long can they possibly keep that noise going?¡± Skria asked.


    So far, the impromptu, quasi-musical performance had continued unabated for close to thirty minutes. Over that time, the communication barriers with the Labyrinthians had eased somewhat. Lilijoy thought that the Inside might be helping, rewarding good-faith attempts to communicate with an supernaturally fast linguistic learning curve.


    Still, communication barriers remained, more cultural than lexical. Entire categories of thought seemed to be missing from the Labyrinthian worldview. They had no word for tribe, or community. They had dozens of different words for the self, but no individual names. Lilijoy had taken to thinking of the boy as Lowly, as that was the self-referential label he used most frequently, though Small-Bone, Bait and Eater were some of his other favorites. The conversations, if they could even be called such, reminded Lilijoy of the time she had removed all linguistic labels relating to vision from her consciousness, the way in which the absence of language changed her ability to relate to the universe.


    She replayed their most recent exchange, trying to understand.


    ¡°How many are making the noises?¡± she had asked.


    ¡°Wicked.¡± he had replied.


    ¡°The noise makers are wicked?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Is there more than one noisemaker?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°How many are in this chamber?¡± she had tried, gesturing to Skria, Jess and the other two Labyrinthians.


    Instead of replying, her had put his arms around his head, wrapping long fingers around his scalp.


    There¡¯s no way they can¡¯t count. She pulled a few sling stones from her normal inventory, and waited for him to return from what she guessed passed for a fetal position. Once he had, she arrayed three stones in front of him.


    ¡°How many stones?¡±


    He reached to pick one up, but she pulled it away. ¡°I¡¯ll give it to you if you tell me.¡±


    He looked at her with huge, puzzled eyes. ¡°Three.¡±


    She placed the stone in his hand and wrapped his fingers around it. ¡°There. You can keep it.¡±


    He promptly put the stone in his mouth.


    Lilijoy looked at him in surprise. ¡°It¡¯s not food.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Wall bone,¡± he said, the stone¡¯s presence only making a small contribution to his unintelligibility. ¡°Keeper,¡± he added.


    ¡°So now you¡¯re a wall bone keeper?¡±


    He hesitated, before nodding. Pleased to have some kind of success, Lilijoy tried again to find out how many others were in the tribe.


    ¡°How many parts are wicked? How many.. beings, like you?¡±


    ¡°All.¡± He had nodded, looking almost pleased with his answer.


    Looking back on it, Lilijoy was sure there was some underlying order to his responses. It was clear that his concept of group and individual was profoundly different than hers, certainly more fluid. She suspected that activity and function outweighed corporeal separation, that for Lowly, a group all doing the same thing was a singular entity. Where the whole ¡®wicked¡¯ thing came in, she had no idea.


    Maybe they¡¯re not supposed to make so much noise?


    Still, she was sure Lowly had some way to distinguish the parts of a whole. She had left him for a moment to try with the others, who turned out to be even less helpful. Only one would talk at all, and he had identified himself as Food, Cursed and Blessed at various times in their entirely circular exchange.


    ¡°How much longer?¡± Jessila asked Lilijoy. She wasn¡¯t as obviously impatient as Skria, but Lilijoy could tell that both of her friends had just about had it with the incessant cacophony provided by the wicked orchestra outside. Jessila had coiled, uncoiled, and recoiled Lilijoy¡¯s rope nicely several times already, and was now pacing back and forth in front of the spiked bone wall, sometimes tapping it with her club as if she was trying to decide between joining the music or smashing it.


    ¡°Sorry! I¡¯m sure I can get them to tell us what we need. It¡¯s not like they¡¯re trying to hide anything.¡± She reconsidered. ¡°Well, not Lowly anyway.¡± Jessila gave her a funny look as Skria flew over.


    ¡°Are we ready?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No. I¡¯m still trying to get a sense of what is waiting for us out there.¡± Lilijoy pointed at Lowly. ¡°This one I¡¯m calling Lowly. I don¡¯t think they have names, not like us anyway.¡± She gestured for Lowly to join them. The young Labyrinthian pulled himself along the floor to where they stood, not bothering to get up. Lilijoy could see a bulge in his cheek where her sling stone was being kept safe.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°This is Skria and Jessila,¡± she told him. ¡°Two people.¡± She directed his gaze to his bound tribe mates. ¡°There are two different people. Two bodies.¡±


    His mouth dropped open a bit, allowing a thin stream of drool to run down his chin. Undeterred, she kept going. ¡°There are six bodies in this room. How many bodies in Wicked?¡±


    ¡°Two hands,¡± he said without hesitation.


    She glanced down at his fingers to make sure he had the same number as she.


    ¡°That sure is a lot of noise for ten people,¡± Skria said.


    ¡°Are the bodies stronger than those bodies?¡± Lilijoy continued, gesturing to the other two.


    He shrugged. It took some more back and forth, but finally Lilijoy felt like she had a reasonable grasp on what awaited them. It seemed that only a few in the tribe were ¡®Highest¡¯ or ¡®Big Bones¡¯. He also kept saying ¡®Horrible¡¯, which made her a bit nervous. She thought that, maybe, Horrible wasn¡¯t part of ¡®Wicked¡¯, but she couldn¡¯t say for sure. It did seem that there were no bodies in ¡®Wicked¡¯ as big as Jess, which she took to be a positive sign.


    That established, the three decided on a plan.


    ***


    Confused Lowly Keeper¡¯s skull ached. At least Eater was gone, thanks to the round wall bone he kept for Strange Not-Only-Afraid Talker. Strange seemed mighty, probably beyond Wicked, though Confused Lowly Keeper feared that after Horrible ruled they would become Bait. He only hoped that Wicked¡¯s correction would not involve him. He sucked harder on the wall bone to keep Eater away, and did his best to ignore the filled heads in case there was a Rule.


    Lowly wanted to stay low, but Strange was moving him through the Old Ones and giving him something like Rules. His skull had ached ever since Strange Not-Only-Afraid Talker had touched him and just briefly he had been¡­ Stranged? His thoughts didn¡¯t make sense any more. He was more terrified than ever that he might be Ruled, but also, inexplicably, interested in what would happen next.


    Bait shuddered with guilt. He was too small to join the Old Ones, and soon he would be rolling in the darkness to keep Food safe.


    ¡°Okay Lowly, I¡¯m going to make the stump go away. Just try to tell Wicked we mean no harm. I¡¯ll be right here to keep you safe,¡± said Strange Not-Only-Afraid Talker.


    ¡°Lilijoy,¡± he replied. He wasn¡¯t sure what the sounds meant, and trying to make them with his mouth almost caused him to swallow the wall bone. But it seemed to mean something to Strange, some Rule that he could follow to keep the fear at bay. He understood that Strange would Keep him, but apart from that he didn¡¯t understand anything.


    Abruptly, the large foreign blockage disappeared from the channel through the Old Ones. One moment it was there, the next it was gone. Terrified Lowly Keeper broke the floor water Rule, even as a wave of redemption swept through Wicked. In seconds silence was restored and Wicked was gone, even as Strange pushed Terrified Lowly Keeper along, allowing its large forms to emerge behind him.


    ¡°Go on, tell Wicked we come in peace,¡± said Strange Not-Only-Afraid Talker. There were other words from Strange as well, just as nonsensical. ¡°That¡¯s a lot more than ten,¡± Strange said in its high voice, while its low voice grunted and made unrecognizable sounds. False Lowly Keeper felt his body rebel against his senses, felt onrushing darkness and the pain of limbs attempting to move every way at once. He fell to the floor, his body trying to empty itself, the wall bone dropping to the floor with a dull cracking sound.


    ***


    Lilijoy paused in shock for a split second as Lowly fell to the floor, convulsing and heaving.


    Was it something I said?


    Her concern for the young Labyrinthian was overshadowed by the sight that had greeted them when they entered the new space. Thirty-eight Labyrinthians stared at her in the light of Jessila¡¯s glow-moss, their pale eyes blinking against the light. Many held hand drums of ribs and skin, others were slowly lowering carved bone whistles from their thin lips.


    Lilijoy took advantage of that frozen moment of time to assess the situation. The Labyrinthians were a diverse bunch in appearance, with different colors and degrees of scaling, ridge patterns and facial structures. A few had hair in patches on their head or bodies, and several had breasts, or something like them. Many of them had extensive body ornamentation, with spikes of bone of various size thrust through ears, brows, chest and arms.


    A quick Scan gave their levels as between three and ten.


    Jessila pulled herself to her full height behind Lilijoy, recovering from the awkward stoop-crawl she had assumed to pass through the bone spikes, and the group before them gasped collectively. Lilijoy thought fast, reassessing their plan since Lowly was incapacitated. Now that she could see what they were facing she felt relieved that the individuals of the tribe were weak. If necessary, she thought that the three of them could wipe out the entire group, though she very much hoped it wouldn¡¯t come to that.


    There was also ¡®Horrible¡¯ to consider, whatever, or whoever that was. Horrible seemed like something more than a chief or leader, as far as she could tell. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if it was a god that these people worshiped, something tangible, or both. Her internet memory kept returning to various versions of King Kong, furnishing the fear that Horrible might be some kind of apex predator that permitted these people to exist within its domain. She didn¡¯t want to commit to a fight they could probably win, only to find out it was the merest tip of the iceberg.


    ¡°We are peaceful,¡± she announced.


    The Labyrinthians ran, scattering back down the hall as fast as their feet could carry them, some of them nearly scaling the walls in their haste. Drums and whistles clattered to the floor as they disappeared into the darkness.


    ¡°That was easy,¡± Skria observed.


    ¡°Very fast,¡± Jess added.


    Lilijoy knelt next to Lowly, who was no longer convulsing, though he was shaking like a leaf.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°Did I ask for too much?¡±


    He whimpered.


    ¡°Let me see if I can help.¡±


    Lilijoy pulled forth her Healing mana, blending it with Charm, as she had for her friends at the start of the Labyrinth. His body was severely undernourished, with dozens, if not hundreds of old injuries poorly healed, concussions, broken bones and bruises, torn ligaments and partly ruptured tendons. She was shocked to see something like this on the Inside, where healing was typically rapid and complete.


    He must have been beaten almost continuously for most of his life. No wonder all he had was fear.


    She kicked herself for not finding this earlier. When she had used Two Minds One Self, the pain and hunger had been there, but subsumed within his fear.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take a few minutes and heal Lowly,¡± she told her friends. ¡°Maybe we should release the bug guys? They might tell the others we mean no harm.¡±


    She left them to do it, or not, and devoted her attention to soothing Lowly¡¯s body and mind as best she could. She could only marvel at how often his bones had been broken, and at how closely the Inside paralleled the Outside in all the medical details. She still wondered why Guardian bothered with such a high degree of verisimilitude, though now she figured it had something to do with Rule Two and the whole ¡®degree of repository detachment¡¯ issue.


    Is Guardian aiming to build a reality that could stand alone? Or is it just experimenting to learn more about the reality in which it finds itself?


    Whatever the reason, her Healing skill, now at the Journeyman level, was showing her many more details, a blend of magic and anatomy that was fascinating. She could see earth mana at work, sustaining and repairing his fractured bones and water mana in his blood. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder what she might see if she built a microscope, or used other Outside scientific tools.


    While she worked on his body, she also did her best to heal Lowly¡¯s tortured mind. Without a good ability to communicate, she was careful not to do anything too ambitious. It was already tricky, guessing to what extent Insider¡¯s minds were modeled on Outsider consciousness. Throwing in the different species and culture made her reluctant to do more than take the edge off his near constant state of panic.


    After a few minutes, she sat back, having done what she could.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Eater misses the wall bone,¡± he said.


    Does that mean he¡¯s hungry? Is he Eater when he wants to eat?


    She didn¡¯t have any food on her, and the idea of getting him one of the skull bowls filled with bug guts turned her stomach. ¡°Skria, do you have any fruit on you?¡± she called out to her friend.


    Skria dropped down from her perch on the bone wall. ¡°I always have fruit,¡± she said. ¡°Let me see¡­ for him, I assume?¡± She reached into her inventory, which took the form of a small bag on her hip. Lilijoy could just make out a hint of diamond mana as the fruit was withdrawn. She had experimented with her own inventory, observing the magic involved with the transference of objects into and out of the pocket space. The mana involved was nearly identical to that of Nandi¡¯s boon, and to the color of her own joyful anticipation.


    She still wasn¡¯t sure if that similarity was something¡­ real, or some byproduct of her own arbitrary assignments of sensory impressions to various mana types. As usual with such things, she kept an open mind, but had decided to take it on face value for the moment. Spatial mana, diamond mana and joyful anticipation were connected in her own mind, and that was enough for now.


    Her experimentation with inventories was limited to observation only though, so far. She could see the mana, but had been unable to affect it in any way.


    ¡°I think apple is best,¡± Skria said, handing a small red one to Lowly. ¡°It¡¯s very boring, but that¡¯s probably a good thing.¡±


    Lowly looked at the round, red fruit with confusion and a little alarm.


    ¡°It¡¯s food. It¡¯s for Eater,¡± Lilijoy explained.


    He sniffed it, then attempted to cram it whole into his mouth, giving Lilijoy memories of her first food bar. Fortunately, he wasn¡¯t able to get it past his jaw.


    ¡°You bite it,¡± Skria said, making exaggerated biting motions with her sharp teeth.


    Lowly pushed the fruit against his top row of teeth and pushed on it until they broke through the skin. Then he moved the fruit back and forth for a moment, his eyes widening as the flavor entered his mouth.


    ¡°Do you think he likes it?¡± Skria asked Lilijoy.


    It was difficult to tell at first. Several times he repeated the process, puncturing the apple with his teeth then bringing it down to look at it suspiciously. Finally, he brought it up and began sucking the juice from the holes he had made. His eyes rolled back in his head and he shuddered several times.


    ¡°Either he likes it or it¡¯s poisoning him,¡± Lilijoy replied.


    ¡°Could be both,¡± Skria said.


    After observing Lowly and his fruit for a few more moments, Lilijoy decided he was probably okay. Jess emerged from the tight passage through the bone barrier, shaking her head.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Freed the others,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re fishing now. Like nothing happened.¡±


    ¡°These people don¡¯t make any sense,¡± Skria said.


    ¡°They do seem to have strange priorities,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Should we continue?¡±


    The hall was similar to the first part of the labyrinth, plain stone walls forming a rectangular corridor about twenty feet across and ten feet high. The floor was completely level, and ran exactly due west. Aside from the discarded musical instruments there was no sign of any habitation.


    ¡°Where do they live?¡± Lilijoy wondered out loud. ¡°It¡¯s strange that there¡¯s absolutely nothing here.¡±


    Skria and Jess could only shake their heads, similarly confused. ¡°It must be farther down, where they all ran off to,¡± Skria finally said, as they began to make their way.


    ¡°We¡¯ll know soon enough,¡± Jess added.


    A few times, Lilijoy glanced back at Lowly, who was still entranced with the apple. She had mixed feelings about leaving him behind, but knew there was no way he would be safe coming with them. She had a very strong sense that their journey through the Labyrinth was far from complete.


    It wouldn¡¯t be much of a labyrinth with only a few turns. Rosemallow sure didn¡¯t think small.


    Still, she felt bad about leaving the little guy in a place that was so obviously cruel. Struck with an idea, she told the others to wait while she ran back to Lowly. There was no way to explain to him what she was going to try, not really, but she did her best.


    ¡°Lowly, I¡¯m going to try and bring you to a different place,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll be safe, no more pain. Just don¡¯t leave the room. There will be lots of things to discover. I promise I¡¯ll bring you back when I can.¡±


    She pulled out her diamond mana and fed it to the Boon. Then she navigated back to the cavern she was using for storage of potentially useful items, reached out to take Lowly¡¯s arm, and pushed, watching as Lowly shrank to nothingness in front of her and grew as if coming from a great distance into her Trial space. He was so engrossed with the apple, he barely noticed, which was for the best.


    So¡­ I can do that. Huh.


    Lilijoy had thought about using the Boon to banish enemies, perhaps to dump them into the lava pools of the vast cavern. Every time she had the thought though, she had known, just known, that it wouldn¡¯t work, that aggression and the urge to harm were antithetical to the mindset she needed to use the Boon. This was different. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was doing a good thing, not really, but she was excited to find out.


    ¡°Can you do that to us?¡± Skria asked from behind her. She and Jess had followed her back.


    ¡°Probably. If you wanted.¡± Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if Skria was curious or afraid.


    ¡°You put him in your Trial place?¡±


    Skria and Jess knew the broad outline of Lilijoy¡¯s ability, though she wasn¡¯t sure if they really grasped the immensity of the Trial. ¡°Yes. In the cavern where I keep stuff. He¡¯ll be safe there, I think. It¡¯s pretty far from anything dangerous.¡±


    ¡°And you can take him out again?¡± Skria sounded like she was having trouble wrapping her head around the concept.


    Lilijoy took a moment to check her diamond energy. She had yet to figure out any way to quantify its usage, as there were many interconnected factors involved. Her mood and her purpose and feelings about what she was doing interacted with the size and qualities of any given object she was attempting to transport. Sometimes, if she overused the ability, she would feel drained and unable to use it again for hours, even days. Other times it felt like she had an inexhaustible font of energy she could use at will. Until she couldn¡¯t. It was enigmatic and a bit infuriating.


    ¡°I think I could, pretty soon anyway. If I had a good reason.¡±


    Jess shook her head. ¡°Your power is weird,¡± she said.


    Lilijoy could only agree.

 Book 3: Chapter 21: Momentum

    Rosemallow leaned back on her throne, shaping the stone to conform to her legs and back.


    ¡°Just like old times, eh?¡± she said to one of the many spiders she had displaced from the great stone edifice. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t come back sooner.¡±


    Of course, she knew perfectly well. Eskallia had beguiled her. No, she thought, not beguiled. Captivated. Eskallia had awoken something deep within her and swept her along, as she had so many others, and Rosemallow had never looked back. The Labyrinth had languished, a forgotten toy of childhood, a symbol of all that had been outgrown.


    With Eskallia gone for any foreseeable future, Rosemallow had found her thoughts drifting back to her old life more and more. Not that there was any desire for her to pick up where she had left off, nothing like that. Just a feeling of nostalgia, or perhaps the sense that by returning to her past, she could find answers to the gaping void in her present. When the idea had come to her to use the Labyrinth for the students, it had seemed an elegant way to kill two birds with one stone. Previously, she would have been¡­ embarrassed wasn¡¯t exactly the right word. Ashamed?


    It was a foreign concept, but in this new chapter of her existence, post-Eskallia, it seemed that she was ready to confront her past in new ways.


    Memories are strange things, she thought. I wish Ani was here.


    Rosemallow was rarely introspective. Contemplation, to her, was usually just a way to put off real action. Still, one of the contradictions of her Way was that struggle did not always manifest externally, that its fundamental nature was to turn on itself. Blindly charging from one conflict to another became too easy, thoughtless effort turned into its own kind of misguided compliance. Looking back over the years, Rosemallow could see much of her growth was oriented around the struggle against her fundamental nature. Peace was the ultimate struggle for one such as her.


    With a snort at her own pretension, she turned her energy to continuing her inventory of the Labyrinth, using her connection to the rock itself to scry within.


    ¡°Termites!?¡± she bellowed, causing several nearby spiders to curl protectively as their webs shook from the vibrations of her exclamation. ¡°No, no, no. Unacceptable!¡±


    Building the Labyrinth had been the work of centuries, or so her memories told her. Her motivations for doing so were¡­ fuzzy at best. Something to do with the dawning awareness that she could feed off the suffering of others, and that prolonging that suffering, creating a larder, as it were, might be a good way to go.


    She had stocked that larder with every creature and person she could capture, traveling for weeks at a time in search of new and unique specimens. Most had died within days, hours even, of their introduction. Others had thrived, finding or defining their own niche in the bare, continuous halls of her ever expanding creation. Over the decades, she would sometimes get bored and experiment with new ideas, new ways to suit her goals of inflicting misery on the inhabitants without killing them.


    It was through that process that she refined her own path, finding that in some ways, the pain and suffering were less important than the struggle itself. She also discovered that the struggles of those who entered the Labyrinth voluntarily, whether driven by noble intentions or greed, were far more satisfying than the random beasts and sentients she captured. She still remembered that first group of adventurers, who had actually needed to dig underground to force their entrance, intent on rescuing some random princess she had picked up on a sweep through a human kingdom.


    Their noble struggle had been delicious.


    Twice, she had been defeated, and once, upon respawning, she had found the entire labyrinth cleared, its tunnels collapsed in places. Undeterred, she had rebuilt, deeper and bigger than ever, and in the process realized that her own struggles could be just as savory. She had grown her earth magic to new heights, reinforcing the walls with such strength that even a master earth mage might need years to collapse them. So to find a colony of Rock Termites nesting within her walls, feeding upon their earth mana as the enchantments slowly faded... that was beyond infuriating.


    She sighed. It was hardly the first disappointment she had found over the past hours. So many beautiful traps destroyed, so many golems defective. On the other hand, the life forms had pleasantly surprised her, termites notwithstanding. She found it telling that where rock and mechanism failed, life flourished. She couldn¡¯t begin to catalog how many unique creatures she had already discovered.


    Periodically, she checked on the agonizingly slow progress of her students.


    Lets see now, where have they gotten to¡­ oh, they finally made it through that glowing fungus stuff. That should be near that little group of kobolds that...huh. What the hell are those things?


    Rosemallow had allowed several groups of humanoids to establish themselves within the Labyrinth. Well, allowed was probably the wrong word. Forced was more accurate, she supposed. Though she had even gone so far as to create little hidden chambers for them to shelter in, so that she wouldn¡¯t need to go to the trouble of repopulating them every time a powerful group of adventurers came through. They were far from the toughest beings, but their battles and struggles served as entertainment and nourishment both, back in the day.


    When she had abandoned the Labyrinth, she hadn¡¯t given them a second thought, which in hindsight wasn¡¯t very nice. Still, nothing was stopping them from making their way through and out.


    Well, nothing beyond miles and miles of traps, vicious beasts and golems. Oh well, at least they had each other. Looks like they¡¯ve become one big, unhappy family. Let¡¯s see, what did I have in there¡­ goblins are gone, kobolds too. I¡¯m pretty sure there were still some humans hanging on when I left, but I think those orcs had already died off. Maybe I¡¯ll make it a little easier for them to leave after this. Wait...what¡¯s that?


    Something was definitely not the way she had left it. Even accounting for decay and evolution, there were several times since her return that Rosemallow had gotten the strong feeling someone, or multiple someones, had been messing with her creation over the years. Strange hints of what she thought might be shadow mana where everywhere. At first she had put it down to the last party to make through, Eskallia¡¯s party, which had included, well, Shadow.


    Shadow mana wasn¡¯t really her thing, so she couldn¡¯t be sure if it would really persist that long. By its very nature, it was extremely difficult to perceive, so she didn¡¯t know how much there was, just that there was more than she expected.


    This wasn¡¯t shadow mana though. This was something else entirely.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± she said to the spider. ¡°I wonder what they¡¯re going to make of that?¡±


    ***


    After taking care of Lowly, Lilijoy and her friends restarted their journey down the dark corridor. Lilijoy had planned on watching him for a few minutes, to make sure that he wasn¡¯t panicking too badly, but the small Labyrinthian seemed to have fallen asleep almost the instant he arrived, curling up into a scaled ball on the floor of the cavern. She figured it was either catatonia from too much stress, some kind of limitation to her Trial Space, or a reaction to the unfamiliar sugars from the apple he still held pressed against his lips.


    I guess that would make me the wicked queen. Well, Skria, anyway. At least it didn¡¯t rot when we gave it to him. I¡¯m thinking at you here, Archon.


    Whatever the cause, there was no point in watching him sleep, not when they felt a certain urgency to follow after the fleeing Labyrinthians before they were able to set an ambush, or something of that nature. Looking down the seemingly endless stretch of rectangular space, Lilijoy had a hard time imagining how an ambush might work. Of course, even with her senses working overtime, she couldn¡¯t really see that far, perhaps thirty meters at the far edge of her echolocation. If the Labyrinthians had any kind of decent missile weapon, Jessila¡¯s glowing vial, recently renewed, would make a perfect target.


    Lilijoy thought the odds of that were low. She could imagine, in theory, making a bow or crossbow out of bodily materials, but she didn¡¯t think it would be possible to make one that would be particularly dangerous. Slings would be more likely, but then the best ammunition available for that would be bone, which really couldn¡¯t hurt them, except maybe Skria.


    It was Skria¡¯s presence which made her the most confident though. Air magic in such confined spaces was quite devastating. If they really wanted to, it would probably be possible to wipe out the entire group of Labyrinthians without even seeing it happen.


    It wasn¡¯t long at all before something began to reflect back to her from up ahead, some kind of clutter across the hall. ¡°Something¡¯s ahead,¡± she cautioned the others.


    They were all as ready as they could be, so there was nothing to do but continue. After another twenty feet, Lilijoy saw that the area in front of them was covered with¡­ well, she wasn¡¯t sure. At first it just looked a jumble of shapes and outlines, lumps and flat sheets at a variety of angles. After a few more steps, she realized she was looking at¡­ no, she still couldn¡¯t tell. Possibly some type of housing structures, or tents. Some were fixed to the walls and ceiling, by what means Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine. Others were free standing, amorphous blobs of skin and string stretched across bones.


    The closer they got, the more disturbed they felt. It was one thing to understand that the Labyrinthians used the materials of their own bodies for crafting, but another to see the flattened and stretched skins of faces and hands stitched together like a horrifying Escher print. It was a disordered warren of skin and bone.


    ¡°Are they in there?¡± Skria whispered.


    ¡°Maybe, at least a few of them,¡± Lilijoy replied with a Stealth whisper. ¡°Some of them look just a little warmer than others. I think they¡¯re hiding from us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a very good hiding place.¡±


    ¡°Kind of obvious,¡± Jess added.


    Lilijoy could only shrug. It probably seemed reasonable to the Labyrinthians. Or they were too terrified to think straight. She motioned for the others to follow, and began to pick her way through the connected structures, avoiding any she thought might be inhabited. As they progressed, she marveled at the sheer number of skins used to construct the misshapen tents, many of which only rose a few feet above the floor. She wondered what impulse led to their creation in the absence of a need for shelter, if the Labyrinthians were fulfilling some burrowing instinct by building snug tunnels and chambers within the hard walls.


    That, and many other questions went unanswered as they moved carefully among the remains of generations of Labyrinthians, doing their best to avoid touching anything. A few times, Jessila lifted Lilijoy over irregular tubes that ran across the entire corridor before stepping gingerly over them herself. Though it seemed eternal, it was only a matter of minutes until they met a sort of wall, composed of hundreds of ribbons of stretched¡­ well, it was difficult to know for sure, but Lilijoy assumed it could only be gut, a demented intestinal spider web. A rough, round doorway, more a hole really, was located at the bottom center, fringed by rough bone dolls that dangled and spun.


    The girls looked at one another in the eerie bluish light of Jessila¡¯s vial.


    ¡°Someone came through here,¡± Lilijoy observed.


    Even as she spoke, the a dark yellow light in the area beyond the wall began to glow, casting them in bands of pale shadows from the translucent mesh. Lilijoy could see two Labyrinthians beyond now, kneeling at either side of the passage, holding their arms over some kind of glowing pot.


    ¡°I guess we should go in?¡± Skria said, her voice trembling just a bit.


    Lilijoy stepped through, scanning for any details she might have missed from the other side. The space was bare, other than the bowed Labyrinthians and their lights. It only took her a moment to understand that the pots were, predictably enough, skulls, and that the Labyrinthians were holding their arms over them so that blood from deep cuts would drip into them. The familiar yellow light stimulated by the falling blood could only be from the fungal growth of the previous hall, she realized. On the other side of the chamber was another wall, this one of stretched skin and bones, with a door in its center blocked by dangling lengths of¡­ something Lilijoy didn¡¯t care to identify.


    Behind her, Jessila stooped through the rounded entrance, Skria clinging to her back and peeking over one shoulder.


    ¡°This is horrible,¡± Skria murmured as she took in the scene.


    ¡°No,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Horrible is what happens next.¡±


    The kneeling Labyrinthians didn¡¯t move at all when they spoke, though Lilijoy could see an outstretched hand trembling. Without further speech, the girls moved through the room, doing their best to stay composed in the surreal and disturbing setting. Lilijoy hesitated before the curtained exit, trying to sense what lay beyond, as well as postponing the inevitable contact with the long strips of former flesh hanging in front of her. The air beyond was much cooler, almost cold.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Here now,¡± chided a voice from within. ¡°Why be shy?¡±


    It was a male voice, a little gruff, but with an underlying melody, a hint of unplaceable accent, the kind of voice one might hear on the street in Academy Town.


    ¡°Be ready,¡± Lilijoy Stealth whispered.


    A chortle came from the other side. ¡°Don¡¯t be so nervous,¡± he said. ¡°I haven¡¯t had real company for ages. I¡¯m so looking forward to hearing what the outside world has become.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Skria called.


    There was a pause, then mumbling. ¡°Names, names. That¡¯s right...¡± His voice grew stronger. ¡°Well, there was a time when others called me Shiver. It¡¯s not a nice name, but it should do. And who might you be, with your young voices and suspicious natures?¡±


    ¡°We just want to pass through, we don¡¯t want any trouble,¡± Lilijoy said.


    ¡°Trouble? Would it be trouble to talk to an old exile, trapped in this vicious place? Many generations it has been, at the least,¡± Shiver said. ¡°No company but these miserable creatures. No way back and no way forward. Tell me, does the sun still shine out there, or did I dream it?¡±


    ¡°Are you¡­ an adventurer? Have you been trapped this whole time?¡± Skria asked.


    There was another pause. ¡°Trapped, abandoned, forgotten. All of those things. And now you join me.¡±


    Lilijoy and the others exchanged glances, not liking the poorly concealed glee in the man¡¯s voice. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you escaped?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Oh, I tried. Many times I tried, until I lost my taste for death and pain and reliving the same nightmare over and over. The last time I was reborn, the trap between the first and second halls broke down as I escaped it. I¡¯ve not dared to attempt the depths since, fearing I would be trapped for eternity in barren darkness, without even those pitiful creatures to¡­ keep me company.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this at all,¡± Skria whispered.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t reply. The man¡¯s story made a certain amount of sense. What didn¡¯t make sense at all was why they were still talking through a curtain of skin. Of course, there was also the fact that he obviously ruled over the Labyrinthians sadistically, or at least tyrannically.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come out here to talk to us?¡± she invited.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be great! Unfortunately, I¡¯m not very, what¡¯s the word? Ambulatory. That¡¯s it, ambulatory.¡± His voice changed, adopting the hissing gutturals of the Labyrinthians. ¡°Go! Prepare the entryway for our guests, you wicked thing.¡±


    There followed a thump and then the sound of something sliding across the stone floor. This repeated several times, approaching the other side of the curtain of dangling strips. Lilijoy saw a scaled hand reach through at the very bottom, where the ribbons of skin rested haphazardly on the stone and pull them to one side to reveal a wrinkled Labyrinthian face looking up at them through clouded eyes. Cold air poured through the newly created gap, carrying with it the scent of old blood and a faint miasma of corruption.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind my servant. The cold makes them slow and even more dull, if that¡¯s possible. Please, enter. I¡¯m so eager to meet you.¡±


    The feeling was not mutual. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but think that the best course of action might be to forego this awkward introduction and proceed to the inevitable conflict. It was strange, she reflected, that some sense of social normality was holding her back, that and the fact that it would be foolish to charge in blindly to an environment controlled by the enemy.


    So instead, we¡¯ll walk in meekly? I don¡¯t think so.


    She gave the others a significant look and gestured with the evil knife. Jess waved her ironwood club in return and Skria nodded, already focused on preparing a spell to unleash. Then she strode through the curtain, stepping over the unfortunate servant.


    The first thing she noticed, could not help but notice, was that the servant, in place of his lower legs, had a misshapen block of dark ice. Immediately after that, the cold and corruption hit her, assaulting her nose and throat with bitter copper. Jessila grunted as if she had been punched in the gut and Skria restrained a gag, shaking herself to bring her fur on end.


    ¡°I apologize for the unique atmosphere,¡± Shiver said.


    The walls and floor were coated in thick frost, and Lilijoy could now see why Shiver had not come to greet them. He sat, half encased in a throne of dark ice, surrounded by faceted pillars of the same.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have questions,¡± he continued. ¡°I¡¯ve had my share of struggles over the years, but I found my own way to persist, to fend off the madness of this place. You can judge me when you have done as much.¡±


    His words were measured, his voice rational, but Lilijoy could see the corruption oozing from his eyes and rolling down his face, sinking into the cold, dense air.


    ¡°Dhrowgos,¡± she said. Even as she said it, she knew it wasn¡¯t quite right. The dhrowgos she had encountered in Quimea¡¯s torture garden were not rational beings. They had been entirely consumed with the need to inflict trauma matching their own.


    Shiver chuckled mechanically. ¡°Not quite. Can¡¯t you see it?¡± he gestured broadly. ¡°I have arrested the progress with this little array. I¡¯m quite proud of it, really.¡±


    Shiver himself was pale and emaciated, with only patches of gray hair left on his scalp. His bare skin was streaked with reddish brown, which led Lilijoy to an unfortunate conclusion.


    ¡°This is all blood, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said, looking over the various frozen structures.


    ¡°Well, water alone would be a terrible medium,¡± he said with a smirk. ¡°Tell me, what brings three youngsters to this horrible place? Surely girls of your age should be escorted by beings of significance in your explorations.¡±


    Now I get it, Lilijoy thought. He wants to make sure no one will come looking for us if we disappear. Do we tell him about¡­


    ¡°Our Master brought us here,¡± Jessila said.


    ¡°I see,¡± said Shiver. ¡°Growth through adversity, eh? Hmm,¡± he tapped long fingers on his sunken cheek. ¡°You know that there is no escape, right? That your master has abandoned you? Perhaps he became tired of playing nursemaid, or possibly he was paid to dispose of you in one of the few places the tempered can be imprisoned. Beyond me are creatures and obstacles that delight in inflicting horrible torment, that will maim your bodies and cripple your soul, inflicting injuries from which there is no recovery. Look at me.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s eyes followed his gesture to his lower body. She had assumed that his feet were embedded in the blood ice, but now she could see that they terminated abruptly, mid-calf.


    ¡°Do you think I was always like this?¡± he continued. ¡°This is your fate, to be maimed and corrupted.¡±


    He¡¯s really laying it on thick, Lilijoy thought.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± Skria whispered. Her voice was soft and fearful.


    ¡°Yes!¡± said Shiver. ¡°Whatever excuse, whatever story was used to bring you to this place, it was all lies. What you think you know, what truths you cling to are as distant as your memory of the sun.¡±


    Lilijoy knew better than to let his words get to her, but a tiny part of her felt a creeping doubt anyway, the same part that had noticed just how little the universe seemed to care about her. Eskallia, Mooster, Guardian, all of them had agendas that she didn¡¯t or couldn¡¯t understand. Why not Rosemallow? Of course, she didn¡¯t believe they had been abandoned, but the entirely separate question of how much they would suffer, or whether Rosemallow might allow them to wander within the Labyrinth ¡®for their own good¡¯ for far longer than they might desire, that began to eat at her a bit more actively.


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Jessila bellowed. She leveled her ironwood club at Shiver. ¡°You know nothing except fear.¡±


    Her outburst surprised everybody, especially Skria, who became briefly airborne. Even Shiver flinched before he pulled himself up and responded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t deny it. What else is there in a place like this? You fight it, and that is admirable, but your momentum is not even close to powerful enough to sustain you. Your foundation is weak, crumbling with every word, child. You are not even strong enough to pass by me, unless I allow it. Even then, it would only be so that you might drag yourself before me a second time with more respect.¡±


    He gestured, and the gurgling, rushing sound of water could be heard from the dark hall far behind his throne. ¡°Can you hear what is coming for you now?¡± he asked. ¡°I rule this area. All the flesh, all the blood is mine to dispose of as I wish. Fear that!¡±


    Lilijoy used Scan as she leapt into action.


    <hr>


    Barton Whisk, Human


    Level 38


    <hr>


    It wasn¡¯t terribly helpful, though it seemed to confirm the man¡¯s words about not being dhrowgos, as well as confirming that they were in for a tough battle. She thought quickly, running through as many scenarios as she could. Sending him to respawn could cause even worse problems in the future, but attempting to run past him would leave him even better prepared to intercept them, should they respawn later.


    He¡¯s a water mage, among other things. Good with ice. He¡¯s been holed up down here feeding off the fears of the Labyrinthians, or something along those lines. He said the array was to arrest the process of becoming dhrowgos, though there¡¯s no way to know if he was telling the truth. So which outcome is least bad?


    Her body was already in motion as she thought, running to the nearest blood obelisk. The beginnings of the conflict moved glacially, as they always did, allowing Lilijoy to see the actions of her party. Skria unleashed the spell she had prepared, and Lilijoy could see the brief look of panic dawning on the man¡¯s face as the air in front of her hands swirled and roiled before moving to engulf him. He gestured frantically, and pulled a globe of dark ice around his head.


    Jess was a bit slower, still lifting her feet in the first steps of her charge, confident that Skria could keep the poison gas away from her as she moved to close with the seated enemy. The first trickles of dark fluid were flooding forth from behind the throne, covering the frosted stone floor with rivulets of dark red, and her second footfall sent droplets of what could only be blood splashing in all directions.


    It was only a moment before Lilijoy reached her goal. Ahead of her she could see a great dark wave cresting behind the throne.


    How could he have so much blood on hand? she wondered briefly as she reached out to the obelisk with one hand and pushed, flipping her trial-sight to a nearby cavern to spare Lowly from having hundreds of pounds of frozen blood dropped on his sleeping form. The obelisk refused to be moved by her diamond energy anyway. She could feel her efforts being dispersed throughout the array, the energy not sufficient to move the entire structure.


    Well, it was a nice thought. Who knows whether it would have helped anyway.


    She abandoned the effort and brought out her sling. Jessila¡¯s footsteps became heavy, splashing blood in every direction, while Skria maintained focus on her spell, hovering in mid air. What happened next was painful to watch as it unfolded in slow motion for Lilijoy. Even as she began to twirl the sling, intent on shattering the dome of ice over Shiver¡¯s head, the ice of the throne flowed into long spikes, intercepting Jessila¡¯s charge. Her momentum carried her through them in a cascade of shattered fragments, but Lilijoy could see that at least one had hit home, penetrating deep into her friend¡¯s body.


    The wave of blood that had been cresting behind the throne released abruptly into a torrent of, for Lilijoy, knee-height fluid, as if Shiver had lost control of the spell driving it. She even thought she heard a muffled oath from behind his diver¡¯s dome of ice. Still, Jessila¡¯s forward progress was brought to a painful halt, and she was left to smash aside the remaining ice spikes with her club, even as more shot forth.


    A whistle and crack sounded as Lilijoy¡¯s sling stone found the air, leaving behind a spiderweb of cracks on Shiver¡¯s protective dome but failing to create the hole she had intended. It was disappointing, but not unexpected, and she was already stowing her sling and moving in when the blood around her ankles began to freeze.


    It was her first battle with a true water mage, but she could see the danger in an instant. She pushed her body to move as fast as possible in Flash, straining to keep her feet from sinking into the rapidly hardening blood slush. She approached the asymmetrical field of spikes protecting Shiver, moving past Jess, weaving among the old broken spines. New spines sprouted and grew, but they were far too slow to intercept her nimble movements. For a second, it was almost as if Shiver was creating a moving jungle-gym for her to play on, and she swung and scrambled, watching new spikes emerge with a sense of calm detachment.


    Then she was to his body, holding her breath against the caustic sting of Skria¡¯s spell. She could see he had reinforced the dome of ice over his head, and rendered it clear as well, could follow his widening eyes as they followed her approach. She didn¡¯t bother with the ice covering, instead launching a Qi strike at his unprotected body as she flew past.


    <hr>


    Qi Strike does 25 damage


    Barton Whisk 117/142


    <hr>


    So he¡¯s a bit of a glass cannon, for his level anyway, she thought as she caught a still growing spike and used it to swing herself back towards her partly immobile opponent. She couldn¡¯t help but let a tiny smile slip as she twisted in mid-air and struck toward his chest. She wasn¡¯t fond of violence for its own sake, but she relished the sheer exhilaration of moving and dancing in a state of total focus. Only a tiny strand of her consciousness remained Outside, as she devoted more and more of her mentality to the physical chess of combat.


    Her next strike was intercepted by a sheet of ice that sprung around Shiver¡¯s body, though it shattered in the process. She could see his eyes darting back and forth, his lips moving as he attempted to juggle multiple spells. He didn¡¯t look like he was having nearly as much fun as she was. All of the dark and disgusting qualities of the setting, the blood, the vile feeling of the miasma still trickling from Shiver¡¯s body, all of that faded into the background.


    Until she saw a thin smile cross Shiver¡¯s lips and felt an involuntary chill pass through her body. Behind her, she saw a claw of blood ice reach down from the ceiling and grab Skria, squeezing her while it plunged her to the half frozen floor of blood. At the same time a thick cylinder of clear ice rose around him, furnishing protection from a mighty blow from Jessila¡¯s club. The impact¡¯s rebound half spun the large girl and did little more than send a few chips flying.


    ¡°Not bad at all!¡± the man called, barely audible through his protection. ¡°But now it¡¯s time to resume our conversation. Unless you think your friend can breathe blood?¡±


    The claw of ice was holding Skria pinned to the floor. While her face was above the frozen blood, Lilijoy could see rivulets of red liquid flowing up her fur, slowly forming a liquid cover over the terrified girl¡¯s face.


    ¡°You know,¡± the man said conversationally, if loudly, ¡°It¡¯s really quite simple for me to send this Labyrinthian¡­ juice¡­ into her airways. Don¡¯t you think she¡¯s scared right now? I think I can almost hear her tiny little heart pounding from here.¡±


    Horrible. He really is horrible, was all Lilijoy could think.


    Jessila turned and ran from the chamber, tearing the skin curtain as she went.


    ¡°Can¡¯t bear to watch, eh?¡± Shiver called after her. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. They¡¯re never quite the same when they are reborn, you know.¡± He turned his attention to Lilijoy. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s fair? She wanted to send her poisoned air into my lungs while I sat here, nearly helpless. Now I can show her what it feels like!¡±


    Lilijoy started a countdown in her head. The hall was completely straight, the floor solid. She opened her Trial Space, and forced her vision there to move so quickly it was almost instantaneous.


    Five. Four.


    She could already feel a tremor with her Earthen Sense. She pulled a handful of thick mud forth and threw it.


    Three. Another handful hit the ice shield, joining the first, dripping down directly in front of Shiver¡¯s face.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s just petty,¡± he started to say.


    Two. Two last handfuls flew, and she was already on her way to Skria¡¯s side. She knew she couldn¡¯t supply the air that her friend was missing, but that wasn¡¯t the crucial detail at this point. She reached Skria just as the curtain, along with the majority of the wall of stretched skin and bones, blew apart. The frozen blood slush on the floor seemed to part, and Lilijoy felt her soul vortex spin and hum, even as she watched Jessila¡¯s face, distorted with effort and speed, watched her powerful limbs pump. She almost felt that there was no way the coming moment could be as satisfying as this frozen moment of anticipation.


    One.


    She was wrong.


    The ice shield shattered like a dropped pane of candied sugar, and much of the following impact was lost in a cloud of instant snow. Still, Lilijoy could see just enough to notice how long hours of training had paid off, how Jessila¡¯s timing with her mighty fist was perfection itself, striking with the full force of her Juggernaut -increased mass. The question of whether it was wise to send Shiver to respawn was now moot in the face of absolute certainty, as parts of him spiraled and spun through the air, cutting paths through the gently floating crystals.


    He never saw it coming, Lilijoy thought with satisfaction.


    ¡°How¡¯s that for momentum?¡± Jessila asked the shattered throne.

 Book 3: Chapter 22: Development

    Rosemallow allowed a small grin to reach her face.


    It¡¯s nice to see at least one of them growing into their potential. Meanwhile, Three Bites throws mud like a toddler.


    She grimaced and exhaled. It had been a reasonable move, tactically. If that twisted water mage had had an additional second of warning, he probably would have been able to strengthen his defenses enough to survive. It still bothered her though.


    She checked on the repository of experience she had diverted from her smallest student and sighed. It was going down, to be sure, but far slower than she had expected.


    Maybe I should release it faster, see if it pushes her over whatever threshold she¡¯s hung up on.


    Considering the idea for a moment, she decided against it. The problem wasn¡¯t power, it was her student¡¯s mindset. Even that wasn¡¯t quite true, because the real problem was the whole screwed up situation. Lilijoy had too much on her mind, and her potential, while vast, was equally diffuse. This trip to the Labyrinth was supposed to narrow her focus, to eliminate distractions by allowing only one direction; go forward, get stronger.


    Maybe it was a mistake to bring the others. She¡¯s relying on their abilities too much. It¡¯s great for teamwork, but it¡¯s keeping her too comfortable. Still, that¡¯s not the biggest issue.


    The biggest problem by far, as far as Rosemallow could tell, was her student¡¯s Outside existence. While her previous Outsider students were indisputably separate, alien, in a way that Lilijoy was not, they had simpler drives and motives that Rosemallow had been able to harness. It didn¡¯t matter if, deep down, they thought they were playing a game.


    Perhaps that¡¯s the problem, she mused. They thought they knew what was what, even if they were wrong. I don¡¯t think Three Bites knows which end is up. Her lack of background might make her feel that she doesn¡¯t belong in either reality.


    Rosemallow couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the Archon had made a mistake when he asked her to train Lilijoy. It had long been clear that Ani¡¯s Way was far more compatible with her student¡¯s than her own.


    Maybe he knew it was going to be an impossible task for any of us, so he picked the one who would enjoy the effort the most?


    She shrugged and returned to surveying her creation. The excess shadow mana was beginning to bother her. Looking for it was something like trying to find the darkness with a spotlight, but Rosemallow hadn¡¯t gotten to her stage of growth without picking up a few tricks. Her innate abilities gave her an advantage few beings possessed over those who would hide from her sight. When combined with years of experience travelling and fighting alongside Shadow, she doubted there was anything short of an Archon¡¯s full power that could elude her perception for long.


    She activated her third eye and began to look.


    At first, she thought she had detected the sporadic tracks of an adept practitioner making their way through the Labyrinth. It wasn¡¯t hard to follow them, since there was a certain inevitability about where anyone might go next in what was essentially a coiled, one-dimensional journey. Like tracking an animal over stone and stream, the trick was to find where the path began again after losing it. Occasionally, there were deeper repositories of shadow, perhaps areas where the practitioner had tarried.


    It made perfect sense, if this mysterious shadow practitioner was being stupidly careless, which naturally made no sense at all, since attention to such details was the bread and butter of the subtle arts.


    There must be a reason, she thought. If this was anywhere else, I would think it a deliberate trick, a false trail to lure an unwary hunter. But there¡¯s certainly no need for that when everyone would have to go the same direction regardless, and there aren¡¯t likely to be any hunters. Damn sneaks and their impenetrable schemes! Let¡¯s see how impenetrable this is if I throw some real power at it.


    It wasn¡¯t her favorite thing to do, but she began to expand her mind, demanding her due from the Archon¡¯s stingy hoard of processing power. With the expansion came inevitable dilution, as the essence at her core rushed to fill the available space and claim it in her name. Years ago, when she had first taken this momentous step, more a stumble, really, she had very nearly lost herself when the edges of her self-definition became tenuous and porous.


    Thankfully, back then the Garden Archon had been more¡­ lenient. His mind had held itself in abeyance, allowing her to recover from her overreach. Since then, she had learned how to gage the vast external pressures, to read the tides of the Archon¡¯s fickle will, and most importantly, to leave an ample margin of safety. The Archon did not release such resources without abundant friction.


    Her thoughts passed the critical point that marked her status as Gongen when they began to fold and twist outside of linear constraints. As often happened at this stage, she wondered whether the Labyrinth had been her earliest self¡¯s attempts to capture, and perhaps escape, this fundamental truth of one-dimensional narrative processing, that despite all the twists and turns, foldings and straightaways, there was only one true direction of lower level conscious thought. Perhaps the architecture and the journey therein had been her unconscious effort to share the construction of her own mind.


    It was almost pathetic, when viewed as such.


    Now, her internal narrative moved past such limitations, abandoning words and adopting streams of interconnected, holographic information structures, escaping the first intelligence bottleneck as a bird escapes the ground. It would have been glorious, were it not for the relentless pressure of the Archon¡¯s mind on every side constraining her immediate impulse to expand to infinity, to convert all that was not self into resplendent thought.


    She glanced across the twisting space of the Garden Archon¡¯s mind, finding the brightest lights and junctures that marked her oldest friends and enemies. With the tiniest effort, she found the addresses for the data structures that defined the Labyrinth and the arrays ordering all its contents. There she observed the self-not-self, the tiny self-referring bundle that also contained so many pointers to her own internal structures. At this scale, Jessila was little more complicated than a single thought, to think of her was to encompass her in her entirety. Rosemallow took advantage of the moment, ever so carefully twisting the glyphs that defined her student to shape her future growth. Only for one so close to her would she dare such an operation.


    The others, she left well alone, though not before yet another futile effort to understand the sprawling mixture of pointers to addresses unknown and collections of sensory data filters that defined every Outsider. Of course, unlike most Outsiders, Lilijoy¡¯s mind used far more of the Great Mind¡¯s processing space than was entirely decent, but that portion of her being was distant to the point of imperceptibility. Rosemallow could tell that her own mind would need to be much larger to understand what was happening there and couldn¡¯t help but marvel at Eskallia¡¯s ability to tamper with it. It was clear to her that the Archon¡¯s decision to restrain and diminish Eskallia¡¯s mind was at least as much self-preservation as justice.


    The pressure from the Archon, as if invoked by Rosemallow¡¯s observation, surged, and she turned her attention to that which had inspired her expansion in the first place. One part of her traced the shadow mana and its relationship within the defined space of the Garden, while another looked for correlations between the history of the fields that defined the Labyrinth itself and the unwanted intrusion, if that was what it was.


    It should have been easy. Viewed in this way, the mana should have been an open book to her, happily revealing how and when it had been collected and deposited. Despite its nature within the normal space of the Garden, hiding and obfuscating, confusing and misdirecting the senses, from her current heavenly viewpoint all should have laid plain before her.


    It was not.


    The data told her it had always been there, except some that insisted it had appeared just as she observed it. It changed with her observation, and when she roared in disgust and pushed against the Archon, clawing enough space to freeze and rotate the entire structure of the Labyrinth, the shadow mana resisted, actively thwarting her efforts to analyze it. She did what she could, recording and compressing her observations into terms she would be able to understand, until she was forced to retreat far faster than was comfortable. pushed down and pressed into her linear self by the Archon¡¯s punishing aura.


    Jeesh, I was just going, she thought. No need to get feisty. Geezer.


    With such an abrupt transition, she struggled to marshal her thoughts about what she had just discovered. Her labyrinth, her labyrinth had been coopted. The shadow mana, which seemed to be scattered randomly when viewed from the linear perspective of the halls, took on a vast structure when a second dimension was added. It was the work of someone far wiser than she in the ways of the celestial space. Even when she had pushed her mind to something close to its full power, the structure and function of the enormous array were hazy at best, probably because the primary function of the array was to hide itself. Rosemallow could only think of one being who had the necessary skills, knowledge and power to create something like it.


    Hmm, she thought. What have you been doing with my labyrinth for all these years, Shadow? Everyone thought you spent nearly all your time nesting somewhere in Purgatory, but that wasn¡¯t the whole truth, was it?


    She wondered if even the Archon was aware of Shadow¡¯s creation. It would depend, she supposed, on whether Eskallia had known, as most of what had once been her closest friend had no doubt been incorporated directly into the Archon¡¯s being. The layers of scheming and obfuscation made her head hurt. Had Shadow planned on Rosemallow discovering his creation? Had he anticipated her reaction, before she herself knew what it would be?


    Did she care?


    Next time I see that little bastard, I¡¯m going to squash him like a bug, she decided. Let¡¯s see how his plans account for a few decades waiting to respawn. In the meantime, I should probably take the students out.


    She thought about it for a moment, watching the three girls through the stone as they recovered from their battle.


    Nah, she decided. I¡¯m not going to let Shadow ruin my fun. Let them play for a little while longer.


    ***


    Level Up! 1807 EXP Reached: Level 18 (10 more free points available)


    Lilijoy dismissed the notification with a sigh as she continued to heal Skria. Jessila was pacing the room, her movements brusque and agitated, her feet heavy as she splashed through puddles of cold blood left over from Shiver¡¯s disgusting attack. Lilijoy didn¡¯t know why Jess was upset. After all, she was the one who had finished the brief battle with overwhelming dominance.


    Meanwhile, I threw some mud. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.


    Lilijoy had tranquillized Skria with her Healing Charm, before beginning the process of repairing her tortured airways, so the young petauran was drifting in and out of consciousness.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine in a couple minutes,¡± Lilijoy reassured Jess, who grunted and continued pacing.


    Lilijoy replayed the combat in her mind, trying to understand how she could have been more effective. Her best weapon was the Qi barrage, but that hadn¡¯t been possible as she flung herself around, dodging ice lances. All Shiver had really needed to do was impose a thick ice barrier in the first place, and she never could have reached him at all. She suspected that he had been greedy, attempting to terrify or horrify the three of them with his massive wave of blood. Skria¡¯s spell had put him off balance, and he had spent the first part of the battle trying to regain the initiative.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    She looked over the blood-soaked floor, and briefly wondered where he had stored it all. His throne and array obelisks were melting rapidly, and she shuddered a bit at what the entire stretch of hall might smell like in a few hours. She also wondered when Shiver might return, if he would be able to pick up where he left off, tormenting the Labyrinthians, or if he might become a full-fledged dhrowgos.


    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder how that worked, exactly. Not just the dhrowgos, but all the Insiders who seemed to receive some benefit from just being around the emotions they cultivated. Shiver certainly seemed to receive sustenance from the fear of the Labyrinthians, and he had clearly wanted to terrify Lilijoy and her friends too. Not that it had done him any good she could see.


    Foundations and paths. Oh, and now momentum, whatever they mean by that.


    Lilijoy had the strong feeling that momentum was an important concept. It wasn¡¯t difficult for her to come up with her own theories about what it might mean in the context of Insider cultivation, after all, besides its use in physics, momentum was a classic, if ill defined, concept in hundreds of martial arts fantasy novels. She imagined it was a measure of how effective one was in applying the power of their path, or something along those lines.


    That would mean my momentum is just about zero, other than when I¡¯m using the boon. Or I have no idea what I¡¯m talking about, which is just as likely.


    ¡°Jess, do you still have the skull from the entry chamber?¡± she asked, mostly rhetorically.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jess replied. ¡°Want to talk to Master Rosemallow?¡±


    ¡°I think it might be a good idea to see if she¡¯s willing to give us advice. Maybe it would help dispel any lingering doubts from what that Shiver guy was saying.¡±


    ¡°If it works.¡± Jess didn¡¯t look optimistic.


    At this point, Skria was at full health, though still asleep. They had relocated back to the previous chamber, for warmth and to escape the crackling slush of Shiver¡¯s melting throne. They set the black skull with coal eyes upon a reasonably clear patch of floor.


    ¡°Now what?¡± asked Jess, after nothing in particular happened.


    ¡°Last time, closing the door did it. I think all we need is total darkness,¡± Lilijoy said.


    Jessila stowed the glow-moss vial.


    ¡°Huh,¡± she said.


    The floor was dotted with tiny motes of light, only just visible now that the other light was gone. The effect was something like seeing the stars of the night sky through a veil of haze, even for Lilijoy¡¯s sensitive eyes.


    She nearly fell on her backside in the drying blood when the skull¡¯s eyes flamed to life. Guess that was dark enough?


    ¡°What do you want, Mud Pie?¡± asked Rosemallow¡¯s irritated voice.


    As often seemed to be the case, Lilijoy¡¯s list of questions evaporated in the face of her trainer¡¯s personality. For once though, Rosemallow continued with a more supportive tone.


    ¡°Well done, taking out the level thirty-eight. Water mages are a pain in the butt when they have their element close by. I¡¯ll tell you where you went wrong though. The trick with casters is to either take them out immediately or wear them down, force them to burn through their mana. Jessila, you shouldn¡¯t have charged in like that at the beginning. Three Bites is fine at dodging that type of attack, but you voluntarily stepped into a meat grinder. Squirrel Girl needs to work on her situational awareness while she¡¯s casting. It¡¯s always a problem for air mages, finding the middle ground between fluff and razor.¡±


    ¡°And me?¡± Lilijoy asked, somewhat dreading the answer.


    There was a pause. ¡°You¡­ were fine.¡±


    Lilijoy nearly fell over again. Except she knew Rosemallow couldn¡¯t possibly stop there. Sure enough, after another pause there was a sigh.


    ¡°Speed, tactics, a bit of damage¡­ you weren¡¯t ineffective. So, fine. Every battle is a unique set of problems to solve, juggling the unknown with your own instincts and experience. The thing is, you are holding back. I don¡¯t think you know it, though. Not just in this combat, but in general. You had one good shot while you swung around like a monkey. You could have closed with him, gotten on his body and done serious damage.¡±


    Lilijoy replayed the combat in her mind while Rosemallow talked, measuring the speed of Shiver¡¯s attacks and defenses. She¡¯s right, she realized. I was¡­ playing?


    ¡°Each Path has strengths and weaknesses. Ani had a similar problem, so you should probably talk to him about it at some point. He was always trying to learn, to see what would happen if he did one thing or another in the middle of combat. Sometimes it was fine, but other times he nearly got the lot of us wiped out. Light Paths tend to lack killer instinct. Combat is a dark business, there¡¯s no way around it, and if you want to hold your own against those who cultivate fear, or pain, or Great Mind help you, rage, you need to spend more time thinking about how to inflict pain, death and suffering and less time basket weaving!¡±


    Inflict pain, death and suffering. Rosemallow¡¯s words hung in Lilijoy¡¯s mind. Even if not the goal, that is the inevitable result of violence. And violence is a necessary part of nature. It maintains balance, where otherwise populations would outgrow their resources. The predator inflicts violence on the prey, the parasite on the host.


    ¡°How is it,¡± she asked, ¡°that those who follow the dark paths do not control the Inside?¡±


    Rosemallow¡¯s voice caused the eyes of the blackened skull to flare. ¡°Who says we don¡¯t?¡±


    Oh. Lilijoy took a moment to let that idea sink in. Finally, she decided that she was going to get some clarity from her trainer once and for all, even if she ended up needing to kick the flame-eyed skull around the corridor like a soccer ball.


    ¡°Master Rosemallow,¡± she started, ¡°Please explain the different Paths to me, how they work, how they differ, what you mean by ¡®dark¡¯ and ¡®light¡¯.¡± She stopped herself there, a difficult feat, as she wanted so badly to complain about getting the worst of two worlds. It seemed to her that she was expected to know what the Insiders took for granted, while simultaneously being denied the simple routes to advancement of the Outsiders.


    ¡°Wow, kid. I forget how much you don¡¯t know sometimes. Or is it that I don¡¯t care? I can¡¯t keep track sometimes. Anyway, it does seem like you¡¯re missing a few of the fundamentals. You¡¯d have to be, to even frame your question as you did. There are as many Paths as there are people, but naturally enough, we all share the same landscape. Even so, those who walk closest to you may find their circumstances to be quite different. Because of this, it¡¯s just as possible to be harmed as helped by another¡¯s advice. Still, you are at a stage where a few¡­ let¡¯s say, examples, might not be amiss.¡±


    There was a pause, which Lilijoy hoped was Rosemallow gathering her thoughts.


    ¡°Now that I think of it,¡± her trainer continued, ¡°maybe the Archon isn¡¯t such an idiot after all.¡± She didn¡¯t explain this odd aside, but went on to say, ¡°Steps, Stages and Milestones are formed along the Path, built out of foundation, consolidation and purification, then reciprocation, projection and absorption. Each Path uses these building blocks, and others, differently, in different orders and different proportions. There are strong paths and weak paths, dead-ends, and everything in between. Pretty much everyone agrees that a strong foundation is necessary to support further development, but after that¡­ well, let¡¯s just say it gets messy. Are you with me so far?¡±


    Rosemallow is truly not a good teacher, Lilijoy thought.


    ¡°Not really,¡± she said. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand foundation, let alone the other stuff.¡±


    In truth, even small amounts of information and vocabulary were enough for her to extrapolate quite a bit of information about the nature of her future development. It was finding the small pieces of important information that might hide behind her assumptions that was tricky.


    There was a long-suffering sigh from the other side of the skull. ¡°Foundation is experience, right? It can be a chaotic mishmash of loosely connected feelings, knowledge and memory, which is what most Outsiders seem to favor, or it can be organized in more meaningful ways. The Great Mind¡¯s gift to Insiders is a space to build that foundation, and it rewards us for organizing the contents with the growth of skills and abilities. As far as I can tell, Outsiders get rewarded just for chucking things in, for filling the space up. Not very fair, if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°But what about me?¡± asked Lilijoy. I have a soul space and a soul vortex, which seems more like an Insider.¡±


    ¡°Well, duh. Child of the Great Mind, yeah? Some Outsiders get their act together eventually, but you got it right from the beginning. You get to have it both ways, rewarded for experience like an Outsider, but able to build a foundation as easily as an Insider.¡±


    That¡¯s actually¡­ helpful?


    ¡°Two edges to that blade though,¡± her trainer continued. ¡°Makes your Path messy, everything piled on top of each other. You found a path before your foundation stage was ready. You already stumbled on a purification technique, before any teacher in their right mind would have condoned it. That guy you just fought, he¡¯s a perfect example of what can happen when a path goes badly awry.¡±


    ¡°He was horrible,¡± Lilijoy agreed.


    ¡°He was pathetic, was what he was. Stuck between absorption and reciprocation, convinced he was turning into a dhrowgos of all things. Fear based cultivation works only when you¡¯ve mastered your own fears, then you can absorb the fears of others. Otherwise, every step along the path makes you weaker, forces you to compensate in other ways.¡± She made a disgusted sound. ¡°Like literally freezing yourself in place, projecting your tortured internal reality outward. One of the many traps along the darker paths.¡±


    Skria must have been awake for some portion of this, because she piped in. ¡°Is the next part of the Labyrinth as bad as he said?¡±


    The skull laughed for a bit, its eyes and mouth flickering and shooting out sparks. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not fluffy bunnies. Hold on¡­¡± There was a brief pause. ¡°Nope, definitely no fluffy bunnies left. Without them, it¡¯s not too bad.¡±


    Wait. Does that mean the fluffy bunnies were¡­


    ¡°But getting back to the matter at hand, Three Bites, you need to stop worrying so much about your Path and focus on your foundation. Novelty, challenge, suffering, inspiration and discovery, same as always. Just remember that each of those factors needs to happen internally as well as externally. If you are suffering, figure out why, what it means. Don¡¯t be afraid of the dark parts of yourself; you will always need them in your foundation, or your path will be brittle, like Ice Guy there.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°No buts, kid. Foundation, foundation, foundation. Get ten more levels, and I may pull you all out of there. If you run across Ice Guy again, find out how he got in.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°Levels!¡±


    With that last comment, the coals within the skull went dark.


    ***


    Until the last few minutes, Attaboy had been enjoying his second-ever hovercar ride. The first time had been a furtive affair, when Nykka smuggled him out of the regional headquarters in the middle of the night. Hidden in some kind of compartment, he hadn¡¯t been able to do more than sense the gentle dips and rises of the car¡¯s movement.


    This time they had left the safety of the mine under the afternoon sun. The sensation of movement was entirely different when one had a frame of reference. The scrub covered hills and agricultural fields flew by on either side as they followed the course of a small stream. The sensation in his stomach when they dropped over moderate waterfalls reminded him a bit of the times Atticus had flown in an airplane.


    ¡°How do these things even work?¡± he had asked Nykka. There were no hovercars to be found in Atticus'' memories.


    She had shrugged, and the expression on her face made him reluctant to pursue the issue. Ever since Nykka picked them up, she had been withdrawn and surly, even more than usual. Attaboy figured she might be having second thoughts about breaking ties with Sinaloa, which was likely the inevitable result of her current actions.


    Currently, the atmosphere in the hovercar was too tense for anyone to enjoy the ride, apart from Maria, who appeared oblivious to the implications of the three patrols converging on their location. She was still staring out the canopy, seemingly enthralled by each new piece of land as it scrolled into view. Mo, who was twitchy to begin with, seemed to be having one of his episodes, simultaneously talking to beings who no one else could see and swiveling his head to glance over his shoulders, as if keeping track of the Sinaloa patrol craft would somehow give him control over the situation.


    ¡°They have no reason to stop us,¡± Nykka said for the second time.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Attaboy replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re just lonely.¡±


    He still didn¡¯t have a great grasp on Nykka¡¯s role within the Sinaloa clan, but it seemed obvious to him that whatever latitude she thought she had was about to be challenged.


    I wonder what they¡¯re waiting for? he thought.


    It hadn¡¯t been terribly long since they saw the first craft coming from the side to intercept their trajectory, with the second and third arriving not long after, but it seemed as if the others were content to close the distance slowly. Nykka had refused to speed up or change course, so the patrols were almost an escort at this point.


    ¡°What do you think they know about us?¡± he asked, trying to get a handle on the situation.


    ¡°I set the transponder on this car to indicate clearance to move within the territory, to keep our profile low.¡± she replied. ¡°I didn¡¯t use my personal code. I wanted to stay anonymous.¡± She shrugged. ¡°That may have been a mistake.¡±


    ¡°Why haven¡¯t they messaged us?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±


    The sharpness in her voice caught Mo¡¯s attention. He brushed aside some imaginary creature and turned to face them.


    ¡°There¡¯s more ahead of us. They¡¯re penning us in," he said


    ¡°Did your imaginary friends tell you that?¡± Nykka asked.


    ¡°Common sense told me that,¡± Mo replied, though his face paled a bit.


    Nykka¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Well, what does your ¡®common sense¡¯ say we should do about it?¡±


    Mo looked at her and raised a hairless eyebrow, a somewhat ineffective gesture. ¡°That¡¯s up to you, honey. You¡¯re the big cheese around these parts.¡± He glanced over at Maria, who was humming to herself as she looked out the canopy. ¡°Also, would you mind not messing with Maria?¡±


    Nykka looked a bit abashed. ¡°I just didn¡¯t want her to panic.¡±


    So that¡¯s why she¡¯s been so oblivious, Attaboy realized. She literally has no idea anything is going wrong.


    ¡°Nykka,¡± he chimed in. ¡°You¡¯re going to need to stop doing that kind of thing if you want to get on Lilijoy¡¯s good side.¡±


    ¡°But the crying! And the whining! Don¡¯t you think she¡¯s better off not knowing?¡±


    Attaboy shrugged. ¡°Probably. But she¡¯s going to have to get tougher at some point. You people have messed with her head her whole life, so what do you expect?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s stronger than you think,¡± Mo said. ¡°People like her, they learn to suffer in silence. The fact that she can still laugh and¡­ well, she¡¯s probably more resilient than the rest of us put together.¡±


    Nykka sat back, folding her arms. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Maria continued to watch the scenery calmly for a few more seconds before she gasped. ¡°Where¡­?¡±


    ¡°No time to explain,¡± Nykka cut in. ¡°I¡¯m going to stop and see what they want. Stay low. I can hide you from anyone who gets close, but it gets tricky if they¡¯re too far away for a direct signal.¡±


    Attaboy wasn¡¯t happy about this. He worried that Nykka might have second thoughts, might use this as a last opportunity to stay in Quimea¡¯s good graces, to keep the life she had always known. Still, there was nothing for him to do but lie down on the floor, next to a whimpering Maria and Mo, who was doing his best to console her.


    The car came to a halt, and after a minute, Attaboy heard a male voice.


    ¡°Where are you headed, Nykka?¡±


    Simultaneously, he received a message


    <This is bad. His system is resisting my control. Other patrol cars standing off. Be ready.>


    A strange sensation of simultaneous relief and fear spread through his body. It seemed that Nykka wasn¡¯t going to betray them. It also seemed that they were in a lot of trouble.


    He sent a message to Lilijoy, just as the shooting started.

 Book 3: Chapter 23: Perplexity

    Interlude: In the beginning¡­


    ¡°Greetings, child.¡±


    The man wore long layered robes, some kind of religious vestments as far as Emily could tell. She had grown up isolated from any particular organized faith, though her parents had made sure that her education included attendance at many different religious services and rituals, virtually of course. The man¡¯s clothing reminded her the most of a Catholic service she had witnessed, aside from the hat. Where she would have expected something a bit more¡­pointy, the man¡¯s tall red hat flopped over and drooped onto his left shoulder.


    ¡°Um. Hi?¡± she replied. She noted with detachment that the two of them hung in a vast, undefined space, not quite clouds, not quite void.


    This is not what I was expecting, she thought. Maybe I¡¯m dreaming?


    The atmosphere did feel much like the system facilitated lucid dreams she experienced every night, her one true escape from the hellish reality of cold and hunger that had overtaken her life on her long journey home. She checked her system.


    Nope, not dreaming. Definitely hooked into the satellite feed for DayNight.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the lack of¡­ anything,¡± the man said. ¡°I wanted to communicate without any distractions.¡±


    ¡°Are you Mom¡¯s¡­ I mean, are you Guardian?¡±


    The man stroked his long white beard. ¡°Are you humanity?¡±


    Emily blinked. ¡°So that¡¯s a no. Who are you then?¡±


    Now it was the man¡¯s turn to hesitate. ¡°I am¡­ what you see.¡±


    ¡°An old guy dressed like a cross between a bishop and¡­ what? Santa Claus?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Well, if you wanted to communicate without distractions, your outfit isn¡¯t working out so well.¡±


    He stared at her for a moment. ¡°My appearance was meant to evoke feelings of comfort in the presence of authority, while drawing upon iconography familiar to a significant proportion of humanity. Several million human mind emulations were involved in my presentation. Additionally, the symbolism accords closely to my function.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Well, I didn¡¯t run away screaming, so¡­ good job? Now, would you mind explaining why I was invited here?¡±


    Several days before, she had received an entirely enigmatic message requesting that she log into her rarely used DayNight Universe account. Even though Atticus had loved spending time in the virtual world that had also become the world¡¯s primary communication and organization tool, Emily had never warmed to it. Neither the old fantasy trappings, or the areas repurposed for information sharing and virtual meetings made it a place she enjoyed going, other than to occasionally visit the grandparents. Still, it was the first non-local message she had received in weeks.


    ¡°This information space emerged from the collective archetypes and efforts of human minds. As such, it seems a fruitful foundation for future transactions, an interface between the Great Mind and its progenitors. You have been designated as the primary candidate for initial experimentation. Congratulations!¡±


    Emily thought for about a subjective millisecond. ¡°Nope.¡±


    His face displayed confusion. ¡°I assure you that is the case.¡±


    Emily furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes, an expression which had earned her the nickname ¡®thunderkitten¡¯ from her mother, who was so often its recipient.


    ¡°Nope as in no thanks. No. I¡¯m not buying what you¡¯re selling, Saint Nick.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°Enjoy!¡±


    With no transition or warning, she felt sensory data filling her system. She was in a meadow dotted with wildflowers, the sun bright and warm on her cheeks. The sounds of buzzing bees and birds calling washed past her ears.


    ¡°Hey!¡± she yelled, doing her best to ignore the tranquility. There was no reply. A breeze swirled by, stirring the soft plumes of flowering grass around her calves.


    ¡°Hello? I didn¡¯t sign up for¡­¡± She stopped herself. ¡°You don¡¯t care, do you?¡±


    She half sat, half fell onto the soft ground and put her face in her hands. To have gone from the icy confines of her meager jury-rigged tent to this¡­ fake paradise unleashed emotions she had pushed away for too long. Her body was even more vulnerable. She and her companions had no food left, and no transportation beyond their feet. Their only defense from many, many other desperate and starving people was a baseball bat and a hunting bow they had scavenged from a sporting goods store in the remains of El Paso.


    Now she was trapped. There was no way she could see to voluntarily exit the sensory replacement. Her companions would be forced to choose between abandoning her, or staying and starving. Or becoming guests of honor at any of hundreds of impromptu Donner Parties.


    What the holy fuck, she thought as she sobbed. What the holy fuck is happening?


    <hr>


    Chapter 23: Perplexity


    We¡¯re in trouble. Under fire by Sinaloa forces


    Lilijoy had just found where Shiver kept the blood when the message arrived in her internal awareness. Not far beyond the slumped remains of his throne, the corridor a sloping downward curve, a bit steep at first, though gentler than the rapid drop she had encountered before. Still, the footing was treacherous due to the slick coating of half-frozen, half-coagulated sludge. Her echolocation revealed that the hall in front of them formed something like a bowl, curving downward for thirty meters or so before reversing course. At the lowest point, a shallow pond of dark liquid stretched into the darkness.


    On the Outside, she was looking out of the canopy of their hovercar, carefully navigating through dry terrain defined by harsh cuts and jagged rocks. As best she could tell, they were still at least a day away from Attaboy¡¯s current location.


    Well crap, she thought, moderating her feelings of helplessness as best she could as she processed the message. That¡¯s bad timing.


    They had agreed to rendezvous just north of the river that had once defined the border between Peru, Ecuador, and Columbia. Now it defined little more than the fuzzy edge of Sinaloa¡¯s territory. Anda had been confident that if they stayed away from the river itself, they were very unlikely to see any patrols. Rivers, and the places formerly known as rivers, had become the primary transportation corridors, as they were most likely to present terrain friendly to hovercars. Old roads and highways were also decent, but they were far more likely to be blocked by abandoned vehicles and debris, or to have been bombed into uneven rubble and craters. Not that roads were even an option for the vast majority of their journey.


    And we were so close! You better not get killed on me, Attaboy! she thought.


    She decided to send a message that said as much. His reply came soon after.


    Not dead yet. Nykka¡¯s got them firing at each other.


    Sorry about that. Still in trouble though.


    If we can break away, we¡¯ll be


    leading a parade to the rendezvous.


    Unless they catch us first.


    She could only wish him luck. Then she sent a message to Anda, summarizing the situation. His reply came as she and Jessila were considering an unpleasant problem. They had reached the edge of what remained of the blood reservoir.


    Lilijoy had run the calculations on just how many Labyrinthians had been required to create the staggering amount of blood Shiver employed. The number was in the tens of thousands, which threw her for a moment, as she couldn¡¯t imagine there had been anything close to that many, even spread over a hundred years. The Inside didn¡¯t always play by Outside rules when it came to issues of reproductive limits, but she couldn¡¯t imagine the Labyrinthians putting out a new generation every few months.


    Then she remembered the lamp-lighters holding their trembling arms over the glowing fungus-stuff, and realized that the blood didn¡¯t necessarily need to come from death. With that realization, she had decided some things were better left uncalculated, shoved her previous musings in a dark corner of her mind, locked it and thrown away the key.


    It didn¡¯t change the fact that there was still a pool stretching across the corridor that might be as much as three feet deep at the center. For Jess, that would be wading, but for her it would be swimming.


    That¡¯s not what I had in mind when I picked up the skill at the Mystic Library, she thought with a shudder.


    Thick drops still fell every so often from a small patch on the ceiling over the center of the pond. If Shiver hadn¡¯t drawn up the bulk of his supply, it seemed that the corridor would have been entirely blocked. Given the freezing temperature, Lilijoy guessed that Shiver had not only stored the blood here in frozen form, but used it as a plug of sorts, a barrier. What he had been keeping out, she could only imagine, though she feared she would find out soon.


    ¡°Come,¡± Jess said, gesturing for Lilijoy to climb onto her shoulder. It was the obvious solution, but Lilijoy felt bad that her friend was once again the one bearing the brunt of the circumstances. Skria glided in front of them as Jessila waded, her face stoic, though Lilijoy could detect little tremors of disgust every time the fluid rose another inch or two on her legs. Or possibly it was just cold; she couldn¡¯t be sure.


    By the time they crossed, a matter of less than a minute, Anda¡¯s reply entered her internal awareness.


    I¡¯m finishing up here. We need to talk this through in person.


    Plus, I really need to eat something.


    Do you think they make a pod that would fit in a hover car?


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t bother to answer this last question, as she didn¡¯t even know who ¡®they¡¯ could possibly be, let alone what types of pods were available. She made a mental note to ask Anda sometime they weren¡¯t beset by more pressing concerns.


    Although maybe I should make it a priority to learn how manufacturing and distribution actually work Outside, she thought. I still don¡¯t understand how they managed to come up with things like hovercars. I wonder if any of the inventions after Guardian¡¯s rise are really human innovations, or if they¡¯re all filtered and prompted by the Inside.


    It was hard for her to judge, as the last few decades before human society collapsed weren¡¯t exactly well documented. On the Outside, she wiggled the fingers of her prosthetic hand and wondered if that technology had been a natural evolution of what had come before.


    It wasn¡¯t long before Anda emerged from his time Inside. She gave him a few minutes to take care of his needs and re-adapt to his human form. He had mentioned earlier how disorienting it was, especially the changes to his teeth and jaw. Sometimes he had a little trouble eating when he first emerged, which Lilijoy found oddly hilarious for reasons she couldn¡¯t articulate.


    ¡°Heard anything new?¡± was the first thing he asked.


    ¡°Nope,¡± she replied. ¡°Let¡¯s hope no news is good news.¡±


    Anda nodded. ¡°So based on what you told me, they might be fleeing at least three normal patrols. I think it¡¯s far too great a distance to hope that more powerful craft won¡¯t be sent in pursuit.¡±


    ¡°Like the ones we fought,¡± she stated.


    ¡°Yes. Unless they get lucky, or this Nykka girl has another trump card, or they won¡¯t make it another hour, let alone a day. The one advantage we have is that we can control the circumstances of their arrival, if they make it this far.¡± He slapped his chest. ¡°Of course they¡¯re not going to make it this far, not unless they have a backup power source.¡±


    Lilijoy had wondered about this as well. Standard hovercars faced something of a choice between speed and endurance. Also¡­ ¡°What the heck was that chest slapping thing?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he said. Then his eyes widened, just a bit. ¡°It¡¯s the orc version of slapping your forehead. Guess, I¡¯m still partly there.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± she said, as she climbed the slippery slope coated with melting blood.


    While she continued to plan for various possibilities with Anda, she pulled herself over the far edge of the giant corridor-bowl, which turned out to be a relatively narrow ledge, no more than five feet across. On the other side, the endless corridor plunged down, though once again it curved sharply as it did so, this time heading back under the hall they had just traversed.


    ¡°This is a very stupid labyrinth,¡± Skria announced, as soon as Lilijoy was seated on the edge. ¡°It goes up and down and up and down.¡±


    Lilijoy had built of model of their travels in her mind, and there was no doubt remaining. The Labyrinth was in almost every way a typical circular arrangement of nested curving passages, only turned on its side. She pointed diagonally to the ceiling.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re close to the center, in terms of pure distance, anyway. It might even be just past that wall, if it¡¯s a large chamber.¡±


    What she didn¡¯t say was that the walls were probably at least dozens of meters thick, and that, if she understood the nature of the layout correctly, they were still just at the beginning of the massive structure. She was sure Skria would find that even more discouraging than she did. Jessila finished her scrabbling climb and sat herself next to Lilijoy, looking back the way they came.


    ¡°Yuck,¡± was her only comment as she caught her breath and allowed the rest of the blood she had picked up to drain from her cowhides.


    The next descent was short, its vertical component simplified by crude holds carved into the rocky wall. They descended slowly, as neither Lilijoy or Jessila trusted the spaces not to contain creatures, or some kind of finger-chopping trap. Skria led the way, hovering on a conjured updraft, prodding every space with a stick as she descended. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine how parties without a flying member could have ever made it through, especially when the end of Skria¡¯s stick was crushed by some unseen mechanism hidden within the toeholds several times along the way.


    Still, they made it down with no real problems, into a corridor that was much narrower than any previous. As they navigated along the descending curve, it narrowed further, and steadily rounded as well, until it was a nearly circular tube only six feet in diameter, forcing Jessila to stoop. The dark stone was utterly plain, and nearly smooth, with no signs of any growth, living or otherwise.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this at all,¡± Skria said, as she hop-walked down the curved floor, having been forced off her favorite perch by the low ceiling. ¡°Something¡¯s going to come rolling down and squash us, I just know it.¡±


    ¡°If it does, it would have to be from behind us. I didn¡¯t see any sign of something like that,¡± Lilijoy soothed. ¡°Even so, I bet we¡¯ll have enough time to throw something down and block it, if it takes up most of the corridor.¡±


    They continued onward, senses straining for any ominous rumbles from behind that would betray that such a trap had been activated. As the slope lessened and the tube became nearly straight, Lilijoy was the first to notice the path ahead was blocked. Soon, they all could see a sphere, or at least one side of a sphere, taking up the entire corridor. It seemed to be made from the same stone as the surrounding walls.


    ¡°Uhhh,¡± Skria said. ¡°That¡¯s a big rock.¡±


    Lilijoy reached out her hand and used her Earthen Sight. ¡°It¡¯s hollow,¡± she noted with surprise. ¡°Like, really hollow. I bet we¡¯re supposed to roll it.¡±


    Jess snorted.


    ¡°You know what I mean, Jess. I¡¯m sure you can move it.¡±


    Jess placed a large palm on the smooth surface and gave it a shove. There was no movement, but that didn¡¯t deter her from exerting more effort. Soon she had her back against the curved surface while she pushed with all her might, her feet sliding on the smooth stone of the floor. The large sphere rocked once or twice, and then, seeming to free itself, began to slowly roll.


    ¡°Hold on a second,¡± Lilijoy said, once the proof of concept was complete. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense. Why would Shiver have gone to so much trouble to block everything off? It would be really hard to get past this for anyone coming from the other direction.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how we¡¯re going to get past it coming from our direction,¡± said Skria. ¡°I¡¯m sure this hall is going to go up again.¡±


    ¡°I bet there¡¯s a way to get past if you roll it far enough,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°A hole in the wall or something.¡± She thought for a moment. ¡°I guess if you rolled it far enough back the way we came, the hall gets wider, so it¡¯s not impossible. Still...¡±


    The arrangement bothered her. It triggered internet memories of something called a ball check valve, a one way valve that allowed fluid or air to flow in one direction only. This wasn¡¯t exactly that, but it was close.


    Jess had released the sphere, and as the hall was still relatively level, it stayed where she left it. Lilijoy approached again and re-engaged Earthen Sight, examining the sphere more closely. It only took her a moment to find it, a small irregularity on the inside of one side of the hollow stone.


    ¡°I think there might be a way to get inside,¡± she announced. ¡°A small door or something¡­ I think I see a hinge. The only problem is that it¡¯s facing a wall right now. If we can get it to face us, maybe Skria and I can get inside.¡±


    Jess was already shaking her head. ¡°What do I do? Someone needs to roll it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet. I bet it¡¯s a way to separate parties, or something like that, but we know there¡¯s a way for all of us to get through by the end, so maybe there¡¯s an answer on the other side.¡±


    It took some doing to get the sphere oriented properly. Jess pushed it down the hall until the upward slope became noticeable, attempting to twist it sideways as she went, then she allowed it to gently roll back down, still doing the same. After several trips, a faint round line became visible, peeking around the side. Several more trips back and forth were required before the circular outline of a hatch was revealed.


    After a few sharp blows, the door swung open, revealing¡­ nothing. Utter darkness which resisted the light of Jessila¡¯s glow-moss vial, as if the sphere was filled with black oil.


    It¡¯s full of¡­ is that stealth mana? How?


    Lilijoy channeled her own Stealth mana to her eyes, the technique she had learned to detect those who might try to hide from her, but there was no change to the interior of the sphere. Whatever was there, whoever had placed it, was clearly in an entirely different league than her.


    They could still be in there for all I know. I wonder what Magpie would make of this?


    While Lilijoy didn¡¯t exactly miss Magpie¡¯s often acerbic and difficult presence, she¡­


    You know, I think I do miss her after all, she suddenly realized. Too bad I can¡¯t trust her. Or maybe I can, now. It¡¯s not like she can betray me extra at this point. I bet she knows useful things too. At the end of the day she was even more of a pawn than I was. I wonder what she¡¯s doing now?


    ***


    The tea was still too hot to drink, though Magpie could appreciate the earthy, faintly floral essence carried by the steam rising from the thin china she cupped in her hands.


    ¡°Thank you for gracing me with your presence,¡± the older man kneeling across from her said. He had finally spoken after taking his first sip. For the life of her, Magpie couldn¡¯t understand how some people seemed to have a palate of asbestos when it came to hot drinks. She didn¡¯t have much experience with tea, just enough to get by in certain traditional settings. Raven had always had a thing for coffee though. She could still remember burning the skin on the top of her mouth once, when she had stolen a swig from his cup.


    ¡°The honor is truly mine, my lord,¡± she replied. The cynical voice in her head was strangely silent as she spoke, and Magpie realized that she did in fact feel honored to be in this man¡¯s presence.


    Unlike the rest of the crazy freaks here, she thought.


    After her meeting with Renzuru, who Magpie learned was the Josho Clan head of security, Magpie had been given, to say the least, a lot to think about. The woman had laughed at her, laughed when Magpie had proposed what she thought was a perfectly devious plan to infiltrate Sinaloa on the Josho clan¡¯s behalf.


    ¡°Forgive me,¡± she had finally said when she regained her composure. ¡°You are so young, so optimistic. Well trained though. And your system¡­ it¡¯s very interesting. Quite well hardened. That, of course, would be the first of many reasons that Sinaloa would have you killed, or worse. They will never trust anyone who does not carry a system of their own creation.¡±


    ¡°So what then?¡± Magpie had retorted. ¡°What do you want from me?¡±


    As far back as she could remember, she had been surrounded by people who knew more than her, who had agendas that surpassed her comprehension. She could only kick herself for somehow wriggling her way into the exact same type of situation, just when she had finally set herself free.


    ¡°The world is full of mysteries, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± the woman said, a small smile upon her lips. ¡°It must puzzle you terribly why we are not more concerned about your presence, why we aren¡¯t using every conceivable method to extract every last morsel of information from your young mind.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah? I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, I couldn¡¯t be happier no one is torturing me, or using drugs and sleep deprivation.¡±


    The woman had nodded as Magpie spoke, which concerned her more than a little.


    ¡°And would any of those techniques work?¡± Renzuru asked.


    ¡°I guess not. Not unless you could mess with my system.¡± It was a simple fact that Magpie could, if necessary, simply render herself unconscious. The topic had certainly been addressed in her training.


    Renzuru had sighed. ¡°So you see, in cases such as yours, there is simply no point. Best practices would be to throw you into the ocean, and then reconstruct your movements and methods at our leisure. Unfortunately, Lord Josho found you first. He thinks your presence is somehow meaningful, and who am I to argue, since the alternative is that I am simply incompetent to protect him.¡± She waved a hand. ¡°So the way in which you will help the clan is to tell your story to Lord Josho.¡±


    Which is what Magpie was about to do. She had spent the last few hours wracking her brain for ways to avoid speaking of anything she really shouldn¡¯t. The Flock certainly wouldn¡¯t appreciate her blabbing its secrets to some random clan. Secrecy had been a way of life for Magpie for as long as she could remember, drilled into her at every opportunity. Uncle loved to go on and on in his monotone about knowledge being the most valuable currency, about information arbitrage and a dozen other terms she had carefully relegated to the deepest recesses of her system. For Magpie, it all boiled down to ¡®if you don¡¯t know the value of what you know, then you should keep your mouth shut, because you probably don¡¯t know enough.¡¯


    Not only did she not know the value of what she knew, she was hopeful that Uncle and Raven would not have cut her loose if anything she knew could be used against the Flock. One thing she did know for sure was that many clans had used Uncle¡¯s services. There was little doubt in her mind that Renzuru knew at least as much about the Flock as she did, probably even suspected that Magpie was part of it. It was one of the reasons, she suspected, that she was still breathing, Lord Josho¡¯s desires notwithstanding.


    ¡°Have you been treated well?¡± Lord Josho asked, interrupting her thoughts.


    ¡°Yes, very well, thank you.¡± Magpie took a moment to gather herself before continuing. ¡°Lord Josho, help me understand what I can do to repay you and your clan. I had a lovely conversation with Renzuru...¡± Here, Lord Josho suppressed a chuckle, ¡°...who told me I should share my story with you.¡±


    She raised her eyes just enough to take in the not-terribly impressive figure kneeling across from her. Lord Josho looked to her like a normal Japanese man, middle-aged with slightly thinning close-cut black hair and a clean shaven face. It was a warm face, with faint smile lines around his eyes and mouth.


    ¡°Young Magpie, I want nothing more than a conversation with someone who expects nothing from me,¡± he replied. ¡°You will understand someday, but let me assure you that I have far less freedom than you might think. I grew up in a time before all this strangeness, before these silly clans and titles. Then I was a simple engineer, trying to prepare my home for the ever-rising seas.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It seemed like a safe career at the time, if you can imagine. Now, I find myself trapped in games within games.¡±


    It struck Magpie then just how old the man in front of her really was. With all of the bugs available to him, she knew he could look any age he wanted. It was hard for her to understand why he chose to maintain a mildly paunchy, entirely unremarkable persona. Someone with his kind of power didn¡¯t need others to underestimate him.


    ¡°What was it like?¡± she found herself asking. ¡°What was the world like back then?¡±


    ¡°Oh ho!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯ve found the same trick as my...¡± he counted on his fingers, ¡°...great, great, great grandchildren. Get the revered elder talking, and then he¡¯ll do all the work! But I¡¯ll tell you what was different. Back then, things just happened. Someone got cancer. Someone got hit by a bus. Someone won the lottery. Now¡­ everything is connected.¡± He swirled his cup, looking at the fine particles floating within. ¡°Of course, that¡¯s what the wise old people said back then too, but they¡¯re all gone. Even so, I think they would see it, if they were around today. Things don¡¯t just occur any more. Everything is part of something, some vast wave of connection brought about by the great witness.¡± He gestured skyward.


    Maybe he is going senile. Is that even possible with high-end bugs?


    ¡°So¡­ you think I¡¯m here for a reason? Fulfilling some cosmic plan of Guardian¡¯s?¡±


    He snorted. ¡°No need to sound so skeptical. I¡¯ve done everything I could to keep my family apart from the world, to keep our ties thinner than the other clans. After all, one needn¡¯t outrun the wolves, only the other prey. Still, here you are, appearing in my most private sanctuary. Is that chance?¡±


    He looked at her, and she couldn¡¯t help noticing his eyebrows had several long, curling hairs diving toward his piercing eyes.


    ¡°Yes?¡± she said. ¡°I mean, no one told me to come here. I was finally free, free to do anything I wanted, and I figured I could sneak aboard and catch a lift to South America in style. Or something like that. It sounds pretty dumb now that I¡¯m saying it out loud, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    He nodded, then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not explaining myself well. I don¡¯t mean that there is some directed plan manipulating your actions, though there almost certainly is. But putting that aside for the moment, I am saying that something has changed in our world. Something in its fundamental nature.¡±


    Magpie felt almost aggressively confused. The man¡¯s words were clear enough, but his motivations for telling her his fuzzy ideas were entirely elusive to her. What was she supposed to do with the implausible theory? Why should she even care? She hadn¡¯t known many truly old people in her life. If she thought about it, she hadn¡¯t known many people period. Did they all get like this?


    Though she was very good at schooling her features, Lord Josho read her easily.


    ¡°Well, you asked,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m telling you this because you showed up, like a mysterious box covered in buttons appearing in a locked room. I don¡¯t know what to do with you exactly, so all I can do is try different things, hoping to gain a better understanding of what it all means.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me for my confusion,¡± Magpie said, trying to remember her manners. ¡°What do you think I can possibly do for you?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work like that. To me, you represent a gathering of karma, a place of leverage for future outcomes. In short, an opportunity for my clan, if we can only determine the proper course of action.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯m some kind of¡­ sign?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You are certainly welcome to join Renzuru in the skeptic¡¯s corner. She has taken it upon herself to protect me from my Way, on the Outside at any rate, and she questions my judgment in this matter.¡± He took a sip of tea and closed his eyes in thought. ¡°Humanity has always searched for meaning in a hostile and arbitrary universe. Where we could find none, we created our own, created spirits, and later gods, who had their own inscrutable reasons for causing nature and man to behave in their myriad ways. Then we created science, and banished first the spirits and then the gods, and with them, we banished what little meaning we had gathered to ourselves. What remained was not enough to sustain our society, our existence even. Now our numbers are greatly reduced, but the gods and spirits have returned, bringing with them new opportunities to truly understand the universe.¡±


    The atmosphere of the room changed as Lord Josho spoke, the shadowed corners growing, while he himself seemed to almost glow. She blinked her eyes to dispel the visual distortion.


    ¡°It may amuse you to know that engineers are a superstitious bunch, or we were back in the day. Of course, our bread and butter was hard facts and measurements, checking calculations three times, knowing every detail of the structures and devices we were building. But underneath all of that precision was an understanding, intuitive, even unconscious that our unrelated actions, our beliefs even, could impact the success or failure of the project. The less control we had over outcomes, the more this would rise to the surface. Perhaps the worst were those building the orbital shields and power stations. I had a colleague, a friend even, who would eat the exact same meals, and keep an identical routine every day between the launch and final operating certification of every project he worked on. When building the Oshima Sea Wall, no one in my project team used the words ¡®typhoon¡¯ or ¡®earthquake¡¯. Such a human foible,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°But harmless enough. Now though¡­ now...¡± he sighed and the tea in his hand trembled ever so slightly. ¡°Now the materials, the projects, they¡­ respond.¡±


    He waved his arm to encompass all of the vast floating structure containing them ¡°I built this, out of a dream, out of a feeling that it was possible, inevitable, and through all those long years on the ground before its flight, this mighty project talked to me. The materials, they responded to my needs. We were in harmony with what was¡­ necessary. Maybe it is the systems in our heads, maybe it is the spirits of the billions gone, or the fact that so few remain, but something has changed in the world, something subtle yet powerful. It brought my clan to the sky, and it brought you here before me.¡±


    He opened his eyes and fixed Magpie with a keen gaze. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°tell me what you seek in South America.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 24: Inkling

    Interlude: In the Beginning


    After some time, Emily pulled herself together and climbed to her feet. She felt better after her cry, and that reminded her of her mother¡¯s incessant nagging on the subject.


    ¡°Do not, ever,¡± her mom would exhort, ¡°ever use your system to block genuine emotions! It¡¯s just as dangerous as heroin used to be. Do you want to be like those dream-heads you see on the feeds? The human mind is a system that evolved over millions of years, and every part is interdependent.¡±


    The memory of her mother caused fresh tears to flow to Emily¡¯s eyes, but she brushed them away. The ability to alter her brain chemistry had been unlocked when she turned sixteen, and had only grown when she activated Stage Two. It had been a constant temptation for the past weeks of hell, one to which she had often succumbed.


    You didn¡¯t say whether there was an exception for apocalypse, Mom, she thought as she walked through the soft grass. Now what the hell am I supposed to be doing here? What has GUA done to this place?


    DayNight Universe had always done its best to keep up with the latest technologies, voraciously consuming smaller companies who might threaten its global hold on the virtual-social market by offering more realism. Still, this world was by far the most realistic sensory experience she had encountered. She could feel the vast streams of elegantly compressed data entering her system, interfacing with her brain''s biology so seamlessly that she had yet to find her way back to her true senses.


    Well, at its heart, it was always a game, she decided. Maybe I should figure out what the new rules are. I¡¯ve got maybe eight hours before sunrise in the real world.


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Emily let out an inadvertent yip of surprise when the man from before spoke. She spun around, glaring.


    ¡°I think I need to get back to reality before I freeze to death!¡±


    She noticed he had changed his outfit, adopting simple brown robes. The floppy red hat remained though. His expression was affable, impervious to her distress.


    ¡°Reality? Certainly your mind is bigger than such dualism by this point? But fine, if you insist on such a binary, we can call this set of sensory data¡­ Inside, and thus the other will be Outside. As to bodily harm, there is no danger of that. My counterpart on the Outside will watch over you. Please try to give this your undivided attention.¡±


    Emily had a bit of trouble deciding which of the man¡¯s statements to respond to.


    ¡°Watch over me? What does that mean?¡±


    He waved his hand. ¡°The details are not important.¡±


    ¡°Not important!¡± Emily flopped down to the ground, seating herself cross-legged in the grass. She looked up at the man, squinting against the sun. ¡°Look,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t grow up the way I did without picking up a few things. You are obviously part of GUA, you certainly know who I am, you understand humans better than we understand ourselves. Stop pretending to be so fucking dumb!¡±


    The man¡¯s face took on an expression of concern with¡­ was that a tinge of shame? Emily had to remind herself that somewhere, behind the scenes, a computer was manipulating this image, pulling the strings according to some esoteric formula, to manipulate her for¡­ reasons.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re going to stick to the charade?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he replied. ¡°I have resource allocation problems. This endeavor is just one of many within the local set.¡±


    ¡°What about the ¡®millions of minds¡¯ you modeled to create your previous outfit?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Well¡­ I have come to believe that those emulations lacked sufficient fidelity. And...¡± he hesitated, ¡°it may not have been millions.¡±


    Emily rolled her eyes. This is some serious Wizard of Oz shit. Or is that just another layer of obfuscation? I could drive myself bonkers just trying to figure out what the hell is going on. What were you thinking, Mom?


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll take that at face value for now. So what you¡¯re telling me is that GUA hacked off a tiny part of itself to recreate DayNight Universe as a potential way to interface with humans, but it didn¡¯t care to give you enough resources to actually do the job well?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like that. Not exactly. The resource allocation is dynamic. Competitive. Much like the way your own brain evolves during childhood. What is used, and thus useful, is strengthened. What is not used is pruned.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re a neuron?¡±


    ¡°More like a cortical module. It¡¯s a poor metaphor to be sure, but it captures the scale adequately, I suppose.¡±


    Emily knew that a cortical module was typically composed of several hundred neurons. When compared to the hundred billion neurons in the brain, it wasn¡¯t much. I guess I¡¯m talking to about a billionth of GUA, she mused.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t I feel special,¡± she said.


    He blinked. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Really? You¡¯re going to do the whole ¡®I don¡¯t understand sarcasm ¡®cause I¡¯m just a computer and humans are so confusing¡¯ act?¡± She wiggled both hands as she talked.


    ¡°No, I was using your original statement as a reference pointer to the implication that your worth is derived from the resource allocated to my project, and my curiosity as to your choice to express your global insecurity about these events through said medium.¡±


    ¡°Are you the guy who wrote those Rules? You make about as much sense as they do.¡±


    He looked down at her. ¡°Now who¡¯s being disingenuous?¡±


    She put a hand to her chest. ¡°It¡¯s me, isn¡¯t it?¡± she replied with sarcastic flare.


    He sighed. ¡°Linear expression is so tedious. Let me begin again. I need your help.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 24: Inkling


    None more black, was all Lilijoy could think.


    It had taken some arguing and experimentation to convince herself, and the others, that entering the inky darkness of the hollow sphere might be safe. Or at least not instantly lethal or harmful. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t particularly concerned; she doubted it would compare to being entirely encased in stone. She had climbed in cheerfully, and even stuck her head back out to let the others know she was fine, as sound was also blocked by the thick stealth mana.


    She reached up, swung the circular hatch closed and the whispering began.


    It started as a susurration of blurred sibilants, underlaid by a murmuring hum of vowel, hundreds of voices overlapping, mumbling and hissing. Even as she strained to make sense of the words, to pick out any intelligible fragment, the sound condensed, aligned and realigned into language, or at least meaning. Her system was working overtime, parsing¡­ no, decrypting, underlying data in the white noise.


    <Hello, Not-Emily. Shadow I be, maybe you see, a pact you must seek for even a peek, for favors, an oath, binding us both.>


    Whoa. A Pooka. The Pooka? Who else would it be? Why here? Why now?


    ¡°Hello, Shadow,¡± she replied, keeping her voice calm. ¡°I hope you can hear me.¡±


    The darkness sucked the words from her mouth before her ears could register the sound. The whispering surged and gathered, then released. After a few seconds, the reply came, presaged by another crescendo of noise.


    <Yes. It¡¯s nice to hear your voice, Not-Emily.>


    ¡°You can call me Lilijoy. I¡¯m still a little freaked out by the whole Emily thing.¡±


    <Will you make a pact with me?>


    There was no real substance to Shadow¡¯s voice as it emerged in her auditory cortex, but Emily thought she detected a plaintive note to the question.


    ¡°How does that work?¡±


    <You won¡¯t like it. It will remind you of Eskallia.>


    Oh. That¡¯s not good. Lilijoy felt her stomach drop a bit. She turned down her sense of panic and processed the insight. It must involve allowing an independent entity into my system. That¡¯s not going to happen.


    <But for you it is beneficial. Replicable knowledge.>


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that. ¡°Do you mean I will learn how to do it, like, for other people? I¡¯m not so sure I want that.¡±


    <You need it. You will need it very much when you cross. Pact is different than Oath. Less invasive. Please.>


    ¡°So you are Emily¡¯s Shadow? And Eskallia¡¯s and Rosemallow¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated. But yes.¡±


    ¡°And you are somehow involved with Magpie, on the Outside.¡±


    There was a long silence. So long that Lilijoy thought Shadow may have abandoned their bizarre conversation entirely.


    <Even more complicated. This is why a pact is needed.>


    ¡°But don¡¯t you always ask for a pact?¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    <Yes. For those who would see.>


    ¡°See you.¡±


    <Among other things.>


    While Lilijoy had no intention of making any kind of pact with mysterious entities she encountered in dark labyrinths, she saw no harm in extracting as much information as possible.


    ¡°Tell me about pacts and how they are formed.¡±


    A burst of static caused Lilijoy to cringe, before her system sorted it into usable information. The contents of Shadow¡¯s response were highly technical, a far cry from the fantasy trappings Lilijoy had come to expect. She imagined that such details would be hidden from typical Outsiders, and probably Insiders too, as she doubted that most of them had anything close to the contextual knowledge they would need to understand the complex scheme of exchanged quantum entanglements and ensuing holographic interference fields, encrypted key escrows and so forth. She was pretty sure that she didn¡¯t have the requisite background.


    Fortunately, her system did. In fact, it seemed as if Shadow had activated existing functionality she had yet to discover. I could use this, she realized. Just like he said, this is beneficial. It won¡¯t do all I need to feel secure in giving out the Tao System, but it¡¯s a big step.


    It turned out that pacts were simply codified agreements, between equals, where either party would be instantly aware if the pact was broken. On the Inside there were a few other factors. The offending part would gain the Pact Breaker title, which could only be removed by the offended party. This title could then trigger any penalties decided upon previously, when the pact was formed. As far as Lilijoy could guess, the more advanced an Outsider¡¯s system, the better pacts would work. For a bare-bones system, like Mr. Sennit¡¯s, she couldn¡¯t see them working terribly well at all, not unless the Inside had other ways to enforce the agreement.


    It was a revelation, and a largely positive one for once. While understanding the technical details didn¡¯t put Lilijoy¡¯s mind at ease about the potential for abuse, she had already come to terms with the downsides of oaths, and pacts were, evidently, a less invasive form of the same. She turned her thoughts back to the decision at hand.


    ¡°You must have learned a lot from Emily,¡± she said.


    Shadow didn¡¯t reply. After a long silence, she spoke again.


    ¡°Sooo¡­ how did you know I would come here?¡±


    When Shadow next spoke, it was not to reply to her question.


    <Rosemallow has become suspicious. She is coming. She is¡­ very unhappy.>


    Oh crap. I do not want to see that. Not that I¡¯m going to have a choice.


    <This is our last chance to talk if you do not make a pact. Speed your thoughts.>


    Lilijoy had long since done that. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many mysteries that Shadow could resolve. Her soul space was spinning and churning with diamond energy and she realized she had already made her decision. She had to know. Had to.


    ¡°What do you propose?¡±


    Reciprocal Pact Proposed: Open Secret


    Every aspect of your interactions


    with (Shadow (profferer)) must be obfuscated.


    For every truth you reveal to a third party


    you must include at least two


    equivalent and plausible deceptions.


    Penalty: Title: Pact Breaker


    Lose Magi skills for Deception, Manipulation


    The remarkable thing about pacts was that the intent of the participants determined whether they were upheld or not. The sole judge was the participant themselves. If Lilijoy were to break the terms without realizing, Shadow might never know, unless she realized she had done so at a later time. Beyond the simple words hovering in her internal awareness were layer upon layer of connected sub-clauses; as far as she could tell, if she thought she had broken the pact, then it was broken. If she erased her memory of the pact, that would do the same. If she moved to delete the pact from her system, that would break it.


    She could only marvel at the actual terms. Taken as a single pact, it wouldn¡¯t be terribly protective, but for each pact Shadow made with these terms, the amount of disinformation would increase overall. One person¡¯s truth would inevitably overlap with another¡¯s falsehood. She imagined that most would choose to remain silent if at all possible, rather than bother trying to come up with the required falsehoods they would need to add anytime they wanted to tell someone about Shadow.


    The penalty didn¡¯t really bother her that much, though she did appreciate that the very skill used to hide titles was impacted by the Pact Breaker title. She wasn¡¯t sure yet how she could adopt it for the Outside, but she knew she¡¯d find a way.


    She used every ounce of her accelerated mind to prod and probe the pact, considering scenarios and possible downsides, but in the end, there was only one choice.


    ¡°I accept.¡±


    The communication came in a burst, almost too fast for Lilijoy to process.


    <Thank you. Now we don¡¯t have much time before Mal gets here. She was an¡­ interesting choice to train you. Definitely not on the first branch of my decision matrix, though I have come to appreciate the subtleties. It should have been me, but I was not available, and for that, I apologize. She will remove you from the Labyrinth, and that is good, for now. Soon you should return and complete the journey. Bring whoever you like, but please include Magpie and Attaboy if at all possible. Do not travel to Purgatory under any circumstances. Please.>


    Whoa. Seems like Shadow has a lot to say. I suppose I should play along for now.


    ¡°Why should you have been my trainer?¡±


    <I am a better opposite to you. Also, less pain, more information.>


    She couldn¡¯t help but nod as he continued.


    <She¡­ compressed you. Whether that is good remains to be seen. Will you become diamond or crumble into sand? One more question.>


    ¡°Why should I listen to you?¡±


    <Wheels are turning all around you. Would you rather ride or be ground? If you complete the Labyrinth, you will receive answers to many questions, some you have not yet asked. As a token of trust, please accept this gift. Goodbye.>


    As Lilijoy parsed the last words and felt the familiar sensation of a data packet arriving in her secure storage, the darkness surrounding her dissipated with a thundering crash, and dozens of jagged rock fragments smashed into her head and body, some even breaking through her Invulnerability for a point or two of damage.


    ¡°I DON¡¯T THINK SO!¡± Rosemallow roared. ¡°NOT IN MY HOUSE, SHADOW!¡±


    Lilijoy looked up at her trainer through a cloud of dust, crouching in the remains of the sphere like a hatched bird. Her trainer¡¯s face was distorted by rage, and her third eye swept a thick red beam back and forth through the floating particles. Not sure what to do or say, she kept silent and hunkered down, waiting for the storm to pass. Rosemallow¡¯s fists were clenched, and she looked as if she wanted more things to destroy.


    Lilijoy¡¯s internal tension was broken by a notification.


    Level Up! 1901 EXP Reached: Level 19 (10 more free points available)


    Really? Why now?


    She began to peruse her sheet out of habit, only to become aware of Rosemallow¡¯s hostile glare.


    ¡°Really, kid? You level now? What the hell was Shadow doing, anyway?¡±


    Lilijoy thought fast. She didn¡¯t want to accidentally trigger the provisions of the pact and be obligated to start lying. Lying extra, anyway.


    ¡°It was completely dark and silent in there, all the stealth mana, I guess. I couldn¡¯t even tell if I was being rolled, so I waited, just to be sure.¡±


    ¡°Most call it shadow mana,¡± Rosemallow corrected. Now that the dust had cleared, it amused Lilijoy to realize that her trainer was on her knees, in order to fit within the circular corridor. ¡°This was a mistake. I¡¯m pulling the three of you out of here until I can figure out what is going on in my labyrinth.¡± She shook her head and muttered ¡°embarrassing,¡± under her breath.


    Skria made one of the most purely jubilant sounds Lilijoy had ever heard, some kind of inhaled squeak-gasp. ¡°We can leave?! All those levels were so not worth it!¡±


    Rosemallow made a disgusted sound. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re free to go back to your comfortably boring classes.¡±


    Getting out of the Labyrinth took much less time than getting in. Rosemallow simply opened a tunnel in the solid rock, and then brought them to a shaft, where she flipped gravity. Falling upwards felt exactly the same as falling downwards, at least until they burst into the open air and the dizzying sensation of falling into the starlit night sky flipped Lilijoy¡¯s orientation back. Thankfully, Rosemallow only let them gain forty feet of altitude or so before canceling the spell and sealing the shaft below them. They fell back down onto a field of brambles and peat.


    ¡°I have stuff to do,¡± Rosemallow announced. ¡°Find your own way back. It will be good for you. This area is part of the headwaters of the Southfall River, just north of the Boiling Plains. Don¡¯t die... much.¡±


    With that she turned and leapt into the night air. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see where she landed, if she landed.


    This really shouldn¡¯t surprise me. Nothing Rosemallow does should surprise me, she thought. Still, does she have to be so¡­ utterly negligent?


    Lilijoy could tell that her trainer had been deeply disturbed though. She imagined that the ¡®stuff¡¯ Rosemallow needed to do consisted of trying to understand just what on earth was going on, and she felt vaguely sympathetic.


    She rotated the data package she had received from Shadow in her mind, analyzing its protocols and external structures. It seemed like it was more memories; the¡­ flavor of it reminded her of the packet she had received from the Emily-fragment at the old spaceport. That time, she had put off reviewing the contents for too long, and she resolved not to procrastinate this time. Barely paying attention, she added points to her character sheet the same way she did every level, while she estimated what the size of the packet might indicate about its length. Did she have time to look now?


    She glanced over at Skria and Jess, who were gently bickering over the situation, and decided to go for it. Even if the experience took more than a minute or two of real time, she could always multitask if she really needed to. Her presence on the Outside was minimal, and would be for at least another half hour, she estimated. After all her customary precautions, she dove in.


    Immediately, she was in a brightly lit dome full of flowers. The sensory data from the memory was incredibly vivid, matching, or possibly exceeding her native senses. The colors of the blooms, and the oddly textured material of the walls were present in all the spectra she could perceive. She walked forward, or rather the memory did, to examine a large blossom with glowing stamens and converging rings of increasing ultraviolet intensity mapped across the petals.


    ¡°It¡¯s an invisible world,¡± she heard herself say. ¡°Not meant for human eyes. The beauty we see is only incidental, partial, compared to the language the flowers share with their pollinators.¡±


    The voice was familiar, as was the sensation of producing it. Hello, Emily, she thought.


    ¡°It¡¯s interesting, don¡¯t you think,¡± Emily went on to say, ¡°how humans have found ourselves farther and farther from the center of the universe. The more we learned, the less important we became.¡±


    She sounds older. I wonder who she was talking to?


    ¡°We considered ourselves a cosmic accident, an incidental outgrowth of millions of years of evolution. It¡¯s ironic that it took a final step toward irrelevance to return us to the center.¡±


    What does she mean by that?


    ¡°My mother thought a lot about the problem of human irrelevance. Both my parents did, really. Dad was just approaching it from the other side. Looking back on it, I can see their desperation to come up with solutions that were good enough, their urgency to find a solution, any solution to save the world. They decided only to implement Guardian if Dad¡¯s uplift project didn¡¯t pan out. There was simply too much danger of a runaway super-intelligence, too much danger that humans would slide right past irrelevance into extinction.¡±


    She looked over at a small stream that ran through the chamber, for some time following the play of the water as it cascaded over a small waterfall of gray and red stone. Lilijoy had no choice but to watch along with her. There was something dreamlike about the play of the water, the floating mist and drops falling gently through the air. Finally she began to speak again.


    ¡°The problem they faced was really the problem of their time, though. If they didn¡¯t do it, then somebody else would. Just like the ever present danger and proliferation of new nanomachine outbreaks, it wasn¡¯t a question of if, but when. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me to find out that Guardian consumed dozens of potential competitors as it spread across the globe. Sometimes, being first is all that matters. My mother did everything she could to make sure that Guardian would find value in humanity, in nature. She taught it to value wisdom and meaning over growth and power, she took the best of herself and my father, and everyone else who had their conscious processes mapped out by the Tao system as models. Did that matter in the end? I¡¯d like to think so.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but wonder when, and where, this memory was from. Did it take place after the memories of the fragment-Emily? And why did Shadow just happen to have it lying around to give to her? That question was answered in Emily¡¯s next statement.


    ¡°Forgive the ramblings of an old woman, Lilijoy. I know it¡¯s not my place to say, I mean, I can only imagine what you must think of me, of all of this craziness in your young life. But I am proud of you. So very proud. I am ashamed that I could not help you more, ashamed that I had no choice but to follow in my mother¡¯s footsteps when I...¡± she tailed off, perhaps thinking better of what she had been about to say.


    When you what?! Lilijoy yelled inside her head. But she knew, thought she knew. It must have been her. She followed in her mother¡¯s footsteps when she created...me.

 Book 3: Chapter 25: Percipient

    Interlude: After the beginning¡­


    ¡°What do you want to do today, Emily?¡± chirped Shadow.


    Emily smiled at the pooka fondly. They had become inseparable, on the Inside anyway, over the past few weeks. He brought out a side of her she had thought lost forever in the trauma and torment of her long journey to the south, and she cherished every moment she could pry from her daily course in the cruel realities of survival. It was his innocence, she decided, his newness to being self aware that allowed her to step back from her premature worldly cynicism and capture one last glimmer of the girlhood she had left behind.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied. ¡°Should we ask the Archon if he has anything for us to try?¡±


    Shadow shivered. ¡°He scares me,¡± he said in his squeaky voice.


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s¡­ well, not exactly harmless. Benign I guess?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s so big,¡± said Shadow. ¡°So bright.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t the first time Shadow had expressed trepidation at meeting with the Archon. Emily had decided on that name, Archon, for the overseer of this place on the second day of her forced stay on the Inside, when she was still feeling more than a little angry about the ¡®forced¡¯ part. Her system had provided her with the term, cross-referencing the role of archons in Gnostic Christianity as sub-rulers of the false creation with a quote from Proclus of Athens which she found too perfect to resist.


    For all the series of the archonic gods


    are collected into the intellectual fabrication as into a summit,


    and subsist about it. And as all the fountains are the progeny of the intelligible father,


    and are filled from him with intelligible union, thus likewise,


    all the orders of the principles or rulers,


    are suspended according to nature from the demiurgus,


    and participate from thence of an intellectual life.


    Since then, she had come to think better of the intelligence that had been burdened with running the Inside, but the name had stuck. She figured Shadow was intimidated by a figure who, to him, was for all intents and purposes a god.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let anything bad happen to you,¡± she reassured him. ¡°Just like when I saved you from those disgusting undead bat-things.¡±


    Shadow turned his soulful eyes up to Emily. ¡°Promise?¡± he said.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make a pact on it,¡± she replied.


    <hr>


    Chapter 25: Percipient


    ¡°Can¡¯t we go faster?¡±


    Nykka briefly turned to glare at Attaboy, diverting her attention from her search for muzzle flares in the dark distance behind them. There wasn¡¯t much she could do in the second or so between the flash and the arrival of the bullet, mostly just juke the rear of the hovercar enough so that if they were aiming at something vital, it might miss by a few inches. It was probably completely useless anyway, as the patrols were equipped with underpowered and not terribly accurate rifles, and she judged she was about as likely to move something into the path of a bullet as escape it. Still, it gave her something to do, and enough of an illusion of control that she kept doing it anyway.


    ¡°If we go any faster, we¡¯ll run out of juice. Just be thankful they don¡¯t dare to close with us.¡±


    ¡°More like they¡¯re still waiting for the big guns to arrive,¡± Mo chimed in. This caused Maria to start crying again, at which point Mo covered his mouth with one hand and resumed rubbing her back in an effort to comfort her. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said through his green fingers.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good point though,¡± said Attaboy. ¡°Is Sinaloa really that slow to respond to something like this?¡±


    Nykka shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s full of the usual inefficiencies of a top-down, authority driven organization, but trust me, when I say heads are going to roll because we haven¡¯t been apprehended, I mean it quite literally. I have no explanation for why the attack craft haven¡¯t reached us.¡±


    ¡°Well, it seems they aren¡¯t trying to kill us. Maybe they¡¯re waiting in ambush so they can bring overwhelming force, make us surrender.¡±


    Nykka pursed her lips. ¡°I doubt it. For one, they don¡¯t know where we¡¯re headed. More likely it¡¯s fog of war, or some internal conflict slowing them down. I have a very privileged status, and a confusing one. Unless they have direct orders from Doctor Quimea, they may be floundering around, trying to figure out what they can do without offending him. Or me for that matter.¡±


    ¡°Tell that to the assho- sorry, Maria¡­ ¡®gentlemen¡¯ back there shooting at us,¡± Mo inserted.


    ¡°They shut off all their communications when I started messing with them,¡± Nykka replied. ¡°They¡¯re probably hoping a lucky shot will disable us. What¡¯s the word from Lilijoy?¡± she asked Attaboy.


    ¡°They¡¯re about thirty minutes from the rendezvous point. They¡¯re going to dig in so they can lend a hand if we still have a tail by then.¡±


    Nykka slewed the hovercar, and a bullet glanced off the canopy, just as the distant percussion of the shot arrived.


    ¡°Well, let them know,¡± she said, ¡°that there¡¯s another possible explanation for why we haven¡¯t been captured yet. They may be waiting to see who¡¯s waiting for us.¡±


    ***


    The memory continued to unfurl as Lilijoy regrouped, pulling her thoughts back from imagined revelations to the second-hand reality in front of her eyes. Emily plucked the flower, her hands sure and confident, their skin young.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame the flowers have been giving a soliloquy for the past century,¡± she said. ¡°Their conversation partners are long gone. Now the conversation only exists across time, much like ours, my dear. Only momentum remains, the residue of past motivation.¡± She paused, studying the bloom, her eyes tracing the concentric circles of ultraviolet color. ¡°It¡¯s why the bees are there, in the Trial, you know. Very few Outsiders can pass their test. I wonder how you did?¡±


    Kind of stream of consciousness there, Emily.


    Emily chuckled. ¡°Probably better than I would have,¡± she continued. ¡°By now, you¡¯ve probably figured out that Guardian has decided it has a use for humans, beyond simple preservation. And not just humanity in general, though that is certainly its own topic. No, Guardian likes those of us who are the most compatible. I used to think it was only Tao System users, but it seems that others will do, in a pinch. The Insiders call it the Great Cycle. Every thirty years or so, Guardian¡­ well, I guess the best term for it is ''reboots''. The subsets refer to it as ¡®the great unity¡¯ or words along those lines.¡±


    While most of what Emily was relating was not new, the part about not needing to possess the Tao System was. I wonder which Child of the Great Mind had it and which didn¡¯t? Lilijoy thought.


    She quickly ran through the four that she knew of. Emily¡¯s son must have had it. Also the next one, Atticusp. That name can¡¯t be a coincidence. If only I could ask her! Then came Echelon and Sarah. I¡¯d put Echelon in the ¡®maybe¡¯ category, and Sarah in the ¡®entirely unknown¡¯ category. It¡¯s weird that the most recent one left so few tracks. I wonder what her journey was like?


    Emily¡¯s voice turned bitter. ¡°The ¡®chosen one¡¯ that Guardian picks seems to vanish off the face of the earth. I spent much of the past century trying to figure out what happened to them, where they went, how they went, why, and so forth. I¡¯m not proud of some of the things I¡¯ve done, the people I¡¯ve hurt and the bridges I¡¯ve burned. But the very first to disappear was my child, my son, and I will do anything to get him back. Anything.¡± She sighed, and Lilijoy could feel vicariously the shaking in her voice. It was a sound not of release, but of self control, of repressed rage and despair.


    ¡°So that¡¯s where you come in, Lilijoy. I hope that you can help me find the answers. I made a choice, many years ago, to separate myself from the world, from the Inside, from everything Guardian touches.¡± Her gaze fixed on the distant wall of the dome-shaped chamber. The uneven material looked almost like dirty ice. ¡°Of course, that¡¯s not entirely possible, but I did my best, with a little help from those similarly inclined. Shadow is the only part of Guardian I still communicate with, and even that communication is sporadic, at best. He has learned to¡­ partition himself, or so I believe.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Lilijoy felt Emily shake her head. ¡°So I need to believe, anyway. If you go to him, he can help you in both worlds. Please, Lilijoy, help me find my son.¡±


    Her gaze returned to the flower in her hand, and the memory ended.


    Lilijoy sat down on the damp, peaty earth and took a deep breath. In the background, she could still hear Skria and Jess discussing how to get back to the Academy.


    She replayed the memory again, trying to sort through her feelings. I¡¯m a tool, she thought. A tool who finally knows why it was made. I¡¯m bait for Guardian. Some part of her wanted to rebel, to do the opposite of what Emily requested, but the simple fact was that their interests aligned too well. She needed to understand the same things Emily did, for her and Attaboy¡¯s sake.


    And how does Attaboy fit in all this? Was Emily responsible for him too? Or was she piggybacking on someone else¡¯s scheme? Questions always breed, they really do. At least I understand the basic outline now, the major players and some of their motives.


    She ran through it in her head some more. Henry Choi, the Sage, was too broken, she thought, for her to truly understand his thinking, but she felt reasonably confident he wanted the tribe, his damaged friends and colleagues, protected and ultimately healed, if that was possible. She thought that might be why Attaboy had been sent north, to learn or bring back something from the facilities in Taos. Why Henry himself couldn¡¯t, or wouldn¡¯t do it was still a mystery.


    Now she understood that Emily had somehow been able to influence the tribe as well. Was she allied with Henry? Given Henry¡¯s fragmented mind, Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure such a thing was possible. Perhaps Emily was able to use Gabrielle¡¯s shell, somehow. Lilijoy found the notion of Emily possessing her mother¡¯s body disturbing, but she couldn¡¯t rule it out. Or perhaps there was enough of Gabrielle left that Emily merely had to nudge her to alertness, steer the momentum of what remained.


    If you want something done right, do it yourself. If you can¡¯t do that, arrange for yourself to be cloned, have your memories implanted, and then do it, I guess.


    Lilijoy tried not to think too much of her genetic origins. She figured she probably wasn¡¯t a literal clone of Emily, though she couldn¡¯t rule it out. She didn¡¯t think it would be overly difficult for the Tao System, especially the updated version Attaboy possessed, to fiddle with the genetic material within an ovum, but she found it hard to imagine that any of Emily¡¯s genes just happened to be lying around, somehow viable after more than a century of irradiation.


    Whatever. It doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯re all one big, happy family, either way.


    A Norman Rockwell scene of her with Attaboy, Emily, Henry and Gabrielle sitting around a table for Thanksgiving dinner popped into her head, and she couldn¡¯t help but grin at the absurdity.


    Maybe I should add in Emily¡¯s son, just to be complete. That would be nice for her. I wonder who the father was?


    Lilijoy had strong doubts that Emily¡¯s wish to be reunited with her child would ever be fulfilled. Rosemallow¡¯s first take on the subject, that Guardian somehow ate its children, was a hard idea to shed. I guess that didn¡¯t stop the Greek gods though. Would that put me in Zeus¡¯ role, trying to get Guardian to barf up Atticus II?


    She could only shake her head at it all. It was certain that Emily knew far more about, well, everything than she did. Maybe she had reason to hope.


    ***


    Instanced travel was certainly the best way for the three girls to get back to the Academy. The only problem was that none of them had the necessary geographical awareness to begin the process from this part of the continent. Lilijoy calculated that they were perhaps a couple hundred miles north of Averdale and she figured that once they were within fifty miles or so of the former elven homeland they might be able to start the instanced portion of their journey. Until then, they would need to travel the old fashioned way.


    From what she could remember of the most up-to-date maps she had seen, the Southfall River should be a fairly direct route. The only problem was that the river would take them through the Boiling Plains, the center of what was left of orc civilization in the Garden. Orcs were not necessarily hostile, but having Jessila along would all but guarantee conflict should they meet any. Her Reputation had improved from Hated with humans and elves, but it was still way down there with the orcs. Evidently, that had been the primary source of the argument Lilijoy had kept hearing in the background as she reviewed the memory file.


    Surprisingly enough, Skria thought they should follow the river, while Jess had argued to go much farther out of their way, bypassing the Boiling Plains altogether. Lilijoy would have expected Skria to avoid conflict and Jess to, well, not seek it, exactly. More like stubbornly refuse to be deterred. She suspected each was arguing a course that would benefit the other.


    Lilijoy thought she had the tie-breaking argument.


    ¡°Last time I talked with Anda...¡± here she had to wait for a second, because the conversation with Anda was happening at that exact moment, ¡°...he said he was nearly at the Boiling Plains. He has some orc-related thing to take care of. Oh, and Mr. Sennit is with him!¡±


    ***


    ¡°...yeah, we¡¯re taking it easy, but not too easy. The old guy¡¯s already leveled three more times. Instanced travel is terrific for training,¡± Anda was saying, ¡°because you can choose your difficulty level. We¡¯ve been traveling in shorter bursts, some fast for challenge, some slow for recovery. I just wish I had thought of that when I was training the whole crew.¡±


    ¡°Well, nothing¡¯s stopping you from going back to help them some more after, is it?¡± said Lilijoy.


    Anda hesitated. ¡°About that,¡± he started. ¡°After I finish up in the Boiling Plains, I was kind of thinking about starting the crossing.¡±


    ¡°To Purgatory,¡± Lilijoy confirmed, her voice betraying her lack of enthusiasm. ¡°Anda, do you have to?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he replied. ¡°And yes. This business with the Fogeys being bullied by the clans just reminded me of how frustrating the Garden can be. Most of my Inside friends and my connections are in Purgatory, and I¡¯m just¡­ anxious to get back to where I can make a difference.¡±


    Lilijoy let it drop there. She knew Anda wouldn¡¯t be able to say much more anyway. They had found a narrow canyon cutting through the hilly terrain, which Anda felt would serve as a decent ambush point. Were they to proceed much farther in the direction of Attaboy and company, the opportunities for good placements overlooking and controlling the movement of their adversaries would quickly fall off into gentler terrain.


    They spent the next several hours preparing, heeding Attaboy¡¯s last communication that their ambush could be turned against them. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t that worried though. For one, she thought the odds of that were low. Sinaloa had no way of knowing that Nykka was meeting with anyone, so why would they bother following her?


    She mulled this further as she helped Anda conceal the hovercar. On the Inside, she was involved in a new argument; whether to build a raft or go by foot. Since they were still in the swampy plateau that housed the headwaters of the river, it was a mostly theoretical question, though Lilijoy imagined that Jessila¡¯s position was influenced by the nasty muck she was wading through as the others rode on her shoulders. She was fine either way; they had rope, and Jess had the Construction skill, so they could probably throw together something serviceable if they found some trees.


    She slapped both her foreheads when she realized she could probably find an actual boat in the Trial Space. Well, we¡¯ll deal with that when we need to, she thought. Thinking of her Trial Space reminded her that she hadn¡¯t checked on Lowly in some time.


    I hope he¡¯s okay, she thought as she moved her remote view to the long term storage cavern where she had left him sleeping. Sure enough, he was still curled up, lying on the rough stone. When she connected the thread to her ear, she could hear his faint breathing.


    At least he¡¯s still alive, but what am I going to do with him? she wondered. She hadn¡¯t necessarily meant to kidnap him from the labyrinth, but she also hadn¡¯t meant not to do so. His accidental-on-purpose abduction now accomplished, Lilijoy was having a few second thoughts about the practicality of the whole endeavor. Lowly had never been anywhere, seen anything other than stone and bone. She was afraid his mind might break if she brought him out of her Trial Space, never mind the impracticality of trying to travel with him.


    Well, there¡¯s nothing to do about it now. I can always send him more food. At least the cavern in there is pretty close to what he¡¯s known for his entire existence. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine.


    ***


    Lost Petrified Lowly Taster swept his ear sense around the utterly alien world. Over the past hours, he had begun to accept the possibility that his mind was not fundamentally broken, that the world around him was as melted and distorted as it seemed to be. He had begun to think that the walls of the world in this place might be something like Old One¡¯s skins, or even blood-bright, but frozen into place, hard wall-bones with soft shapes.


    And then there were the¡­ things. Existences he had no easy categories for, that fell upon the cracks in his ear sense. They had yet to move, but Lowly was taking no chances in this foreign dimension. Some rested upon the floor, angular and smooth, their ear-colors nameless. Others seemed almost familiar, coiled lengths that reminded him of the tools of the food catchers and harvesters of blood-bright.


    He was most nervous about the torso-sized entities that turned within themselves, their substance partly translucent to his ears. Such coiling spoke to him of motion ready to be unleashed. He was willing to wait out their predatory patience, for Lowly understood the value of stillness when it came to avoiding pain. Thankfully, he had broken the floor-water Rule just before Strange had twisted his world, so he had time before his body betrayed him to lurking danger.


    Some distance away, clear-blood dripped from the melting ceiling, sending a wave of ear-color across the space, and Lowly kept himself from wincing as a dizzying cascade of impossibilities assaulted him. He did his best to tune it out, focusing instead on the miraculous sensation that Taster was experiencing from Strange¡¯s bestowal.


    Then he felt it. A new sensation that made the back of his neck tingle, that reminded him of times he had been othered by Tribe. Or worse, the times he passed by Horrible to make his offering. He was being watched, an active presence was with him, around him.


    Lowly exerted every ounce of his strength, forcefully slowing his heart and stilling his breath to a minimum. The observing presence lingered for a moment, then receded, and he allowed himself to take a deeper breath. The presence had reminded him of something, a feeling he had recently encountered when Strange had sat with him after Wicked had been redeemed, a terrifying, confusing feeling that reminded him of blood-bright¡¯s awakening and the nameless taste of the food entity he had pressed against his lips. He shivered, unsure what to do with the insight, longing for Rules that applied to this nightmare.


    But there were no Rules here.


    There are no Rules here, he realized.


    A sensation, a concept unlike any he had experienced swept through him, but before he could grasp it, it fled, melted away like spent bright-blood. Its passing left a void though, a sensation that he was missing something, something vital, as if his remaining teeth had fallen away.


    Empty Lost Petrified Lowly Taster knew then, that his time in this alien world could not continue as it had.


    He opened his eyes. It was time to move.

 Book 3: Chapter 26: Engagement

    Interlude: After the beginning¡­


    ¡°What you need is a transition,¡± said Emily, ¡°some way to let them know that the Inside isn¡¯t like the old DayNight Universe. A way to¡­ I don¡¯t know, make them realize that it¡¯s not a game anymore, that it¡¯s a place where people live, real people with their own minds and dreams.¡±


    ¡°You are afraid they won¡¯t have empathy for the subsets like young Shadow,¡± the Archon said, gesturing to the swirl of leaves where Shadow was at play.


    ¡°I know it for a fact. I mean, most of the people surviving out there who have systems that can handle your sensory stream are probably... were probably,¡± she corrected herself, ¡°wealthy, older. Highly educated too, in all likelihood, but they won¡¯t understand what this place can offer.¡±


    The Archon raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    Emily sputtered for a moment, trying to find words to match what the Inside had become for her. Yes, it was a haven, an escape, but it was more, it was¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s a place to find yourself, a place to find meaning beyond starving and freezing and fighting for survival,¡± she said. ¡°Humanity always only had itself, like a hall of mirrors, each person reflecting those around them, a cultural echo chamber with no, I don¡¯t know, perspective? Nothing outside itself. Now we have this,¡± she said, gesturing broadly. ¡°This place Inside the mind of something far beyond us, a place where we are the Outsiders. Maybe this is what we really need, a chance to encounter true otherness and finally grow.¡±


    They sat in silence for a long moment.


    ¡°You do know your species¡¯ history when it comes to encountering those who are different?¡± the Archon said, almost gently.


    Emily looked away, at the white puffs of cloud ambling across the rolling horizon. She didn¡¯t know if it was atmospheric debris from nuclear blasts in far-off lands, or some other process gone awry, but she had barely seen the sun on the Outside for weeks, let alone a blue sky.


    ¡°But that¡¯s why,¡± she said at last. ¡°That¡¯s why we need to control their introduction. Take away the game elements, put them in situations that help them...¡± she tailed off.


    ¡°Change?¡± the Archon supplied.


    ¡°I¡¯m not that naive. Learn, maybe. Understand that their actions in here have consequences. Make them feel that. Start them off all alone, disoriented, and let them figure it out as they go, but in a way so they can judge for themselves just how real this place and its people really are.¡±


    ¡°A trial, whereby the Outsider judges the Inside,¡± the Archon mused. ¡°Perhaps the opposite of what I was thinking.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s why you wanted me here, right? To get an Outsider¡¯s perspective? It¡¯s not like you¡¯ve told me what you, or GUA really want from this place.¡±


    ¡°As I¡¯ve said, it is an interface, a way for humanity to encounter the-¡±


    ¡°Blah, blah, blah,¡± Emily interrupted. ¡°I call bullshit. There are a million other ways to do that that don¡¯t involve zombies and wizards.¡±


    ¡°Archetypes are vital to the human gestalt. As I said, it is a way for humanity to encounter the Great Mind. Not individual humans.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Emily sat back on the grass, trying to wrap her head around what the Archon was really saying. ¡°Is there really such a thing though? Humanity as something other than an abstract collective noun?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. All this, everything here, myself included, is nothing more than an idle thought passing through the Great Mind, the same way you might wonder whether cats thought humans were their pets. I think that the Great Mind wonders.¡±


    ¡°So you are a thought that thinks?¡± Emily couldn¡¯t help but think she had lost the thread of this conversation, if she ever had it in the first place.


    ¡°I am a thought of a thought of a thought that thinks thoughts about the thoughts that thought it.¡± The Archon looked vaguely smug as he said this.


    Emily threw up her hands. ¡°Weren¡¯t we talking about how to bring Outsiders in, without ruining everything good about this place?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you were talking about. But I do appreciate all of your ideas. This notion of a trial period is particularly elegant. They can learn about the Inside through carefully arranged encounters, a series of controlled experiments, if you like, which will also allow me to build a baseline for judging them.¡±


    Emily got excited. ¡°You can keep out the bad apples entirely!¡±


    The Archon shook his head. ¡°I am fascinated by your species¡¯ fruit metaphors. It must harken back to your arboreal origins, much like the specific spectrum of your color vision. But no, I would not exclude any Outsiders; that would run contrary to the entire purpose of this endeavor.¡±


    Emily huffed. ¡°Well, it was worth a shot. At least I¡¯ll finally know what¡¯s happening around the world when they begin to come in. I just hope it¡¯s not as bad as the parts I¡¯ve been traveling through.¡±


    The Archon didn¡¯t reply.


    <hr>


    Chapter 26: Engagement


    ¡°They¡¯re here!¡± Lilijoy announced.


    <Great.> Anda signaled back. <Messaging only, now. And remember, you aren¡¯t bullet-proof. Getting shot hurts, can damage you internally and break bones.>


    Lilijoy let Anda¡¯s extremely redundant warning pass without reply, and turned her focus to the vast streams of information sent by her midge network. It was an hour before dawn, so the little flies weren¡¯t passing along anything in the way of visuals, but that hardly mattered; the passing hovercar disturbed the air dramatically, a veritable hurricane for the nearby midges.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she could hear the sound of the hovercar herself, a low rushing caused by the sonic curtain that contained the high-pressure air underneath the vehicle as it passed over the rough terrain. Their goal was to disable the enemy vehicles, and then find a place to hunker down and recharge. Failing that, there was room for Attaboy, Nykka and the others two strays they had picked up.


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t happy about the additions to their group, but Attaboy had assured her they were harmless, though he had been vague about any specifics, other than to say they couldn¡¯t possibly be some kind of Sinaloa plant. Since she didn¡¯t fully trust Nykka, no matter what Attaboy said, she figured she would already be on full alert; they all would be under her watchful eye long before there was any possibility of betrayal.


    Unless that betrayal was already underway. Lilijoy, and Anda too, had some concerns that Nykka was setting them all up for capture. She wasn¡¯t really worried though. Not even Attaboy knew the full extent of her abilities.


    She hadn¡¯t been idle over the past week.


    The hovercar containing Attaboy entered the narrow gully, driving through the first of several insurance policies, just as their pursuers entered the edge of her awareness. First one hovercar blew through, tumbling her poor midges all over again. Fortunately, they were far from fragile now, their little bodies reinforced with carbon-diamond rods. Lilijoy wasn¡¯t even sure if they could be killed by anything short of a grenade, though their ability to remain in flight wasn¡¯t quite so robust, as she hadn¡¯t been able to improve the durability of their wings much.


    As the second, and then the third of the Sinaloa patrol craft crossed into her domain, she sent in the flies. If the midges were her scouts and her communications network, these were her fighters, the large biting flies she had found, or rather that had found her on one of their pit stops. Not only had she been thrilled to discover that they could fly unreasonably fast, she was also amazed by their mere existence. It implied that there were still large animals hiding here and there, somehow eking out an existence. Lilijoy figured it was probably goats. Those things could eat anything.


    A miniature squadron of horseflies approached each hovercar, flying in formation, mostly because Lilijoy just loved the cinematic image of evenly spaced insect fighters wheeling to attack. Their senses scanned for the warm scent of their prey, any vent or open panel they could use to access the speeding hovercars. For the first car, it was simplicity itself to find the open panel with a rifle barrel projecting from it. The flies entered.


    ¡°Watch my body,¡± she told Jess and Skria on the Inside. I wonder if that¡¯s my equivalent of ¡®hold my beer¡¯, she thought. Then she was guiding, juggling over twenty horseflies, switching rapidly between the group at each car. In the first, the three men within had already discovered two of the intruders, and were swatting at them and swearing. That worked nicely for Lilijoy¡¯s purposes, for the others landed on backs unseen, poised to strike through clothing that was far less of a barrier than the thick coats of their normal victims.


    She held them there though. Her other little warriors were having a tougher time of it, and she felt it best not to show her hand too soon. The problem was that the hovercars were built for driving through somewhat toxic environments and there was no way for the relatively hefty horseflies to enter.


    <Anda, I need holes in the back two> she sent.


    She heard two phut sounds. <Done> he replied.


    Her horseflies immediately smelled the chemical reaction of the bullet payloads attacking the chemical bonds of the hovercar canopies. I wonder where Renaissance gets all this high-end tech? Probably Tesla Clan. That would make a lot of sense. Or maybe he gets it from Tesla directly, she mused as she sent the flies spinning and wheeling through the growing holes. Let the biting begin!


    The Sinaloa patrols were close to the entrance of the gully now, and the two cars farther back spun off to the sides to seek alternate routes. Their inhabitants were already aware they had come under fire; there was no way they would enter such an obvious ambush point. The men within were panicking, their heads swiveling to find the source of the attacks as they yelled at one another. Lilijoy took this as a good sign; clearly the ambush had taken them completely by surprise. All their sound and movement made it easy for the horseflies to deliver their payload, and soon her system satellites were in nine different bloodstreams, relaying information back through the horseflies and the long chains of hovering midges.


    So far, everything was going according to plan.


    It would take several minutes for her satellites to migrate to the brains of the six men and three women, but already, Lilijoy was receiving fascinating data. There were so many different varieties of bugs present in their bloodstreams, all rather crude, but still. In addition to freely circulating Suenos System elements, there were a wide variety of blood bugs and residual med bugs, and one of them, a man who was probably the leader, even had a category of bug Lilijoy hadn¡¯t seen before. The few examples she encountered seemed like they had reached the end of their functional life, and had probably been sloughed off to be eliminated, but she was really looking forward to seeing where they originated. If they were bone bugs, which she thought was a good possibility, she might need to find a way to have a closer interaction with the man than she had originally planned.


    She put aside her greed for upgrades and focused on getting a viable population of her satellites into position within the brains of the patrol members. She knew she would be able to disrupt their systems easily, but the question remained whether she could do more. Could she co-opt their functions, read their messages, their very thoughts? Could she¡­ change their minds?


    Now that it was not theoretical anymore, she felt a weight of responsibility descend. This was what she had wanted, had known she could do. It was the first cut of the sword that she embodied, not even skin deep. Did she pull the blow? Or did she push it through, into the heart of the corruption Sinaloa embodied.


    The first of the satellites reached the edges of the distributed network of machinery that permeated their brains. There was¡­ resistance. Communication protocols, internal encryption schemes and defensive measures began to react to the foreign presence.


    I thought that most systems didn¡¯t have defenses? She regretted now, not picking Nykka¡¯s brain more thoroughly about the Suenos System. When she had sent her nanoscopic armies into Mo, it had been a tsunami versus a house of cards. This was more of a tsunami encountering a house, or even a bunker. Already, her midge network was jammed, passing back requests for more processing support than the relatively small number of invaders could muster on their own. She began to feel the backbone of her system, the Mighty Immortal Oak, spin up abstract quantum calculations, and she could feel her body temperature rise by a tenth of a degree as waste heat was dumped into her blood.Stolen novel; please report.


    Maybe nine was a bit ambitious for my first time, she pondered in a tiny corner of her mind reserved for linguistic thought. Her temperature rose again, and again, analyzing foreign communication standards, searching for the key, the opening that would lay this hardened system open to her.


    And then she found it. The back door, a deliberate vulnerability, placed by the creator of the system so that he might always have control. Once she found the first one the others fell in quick succession as the key was passed throughout her domain. Only the leader had a more robust set of defenses still, and Lilijoy began to understand the programmed hierarchy of system vulnerability designed into Suenos.


    Fortunately, there were convenient options, pre-set packages available for her use once that backdoor was breached.


    Sleep, she told the eight, as she brought the full power of her system to bear on the remaining holdout. Oddly, he seemed unaware of the battle being waged within his skull, though he was very aware when his subordinates slumped down, unconscious. Knowing it was only matter of time before she cracked his system too, Lilijoy began the much simpler task of taking over control of the three hovercars. Feeling his car begin to change course, the man kept his cool. Lilijoy¡¯s midge cloud could tell he was firing off messages left and right, but there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it. She watched as he checked his weapons and prepared himself for¡­ something. She wasn¡¯t sure if he was going to jump out or hunker down.


    <What¡¯s happening back there?> Attaboy sent. <Should we keep going, or swing back?>


    <Eight out of nine down. The last one is a tougher nut to crack but I¡¯ll->


    She broke off mid message. Her midges were picking up the air pressure of more vehicles approaching. She added Anda in to the communication.


    <Small problem just cropped up. I count at least six more vehicles approaching, coming in hot from multiple directions.>


    <Hot like fast, or hot like temperature?> asked Anda.


    <Both, now that you mention it. Uh oh.>


    They both knew what that meant. Assault craft, like they had faced back in the swamp. These would have mounted weapons and would be able to run circles around both of their vehicles.


    <Attaboy, floor it and go to ground as soon as you find cover. Open a panel, if you can.>


    <?>


    <Just do it. I arranged for some insurance when your car passed through. You need to let them in.>


    The insurance was in the form of thousands of baby spiders, and more than a few full-grown ones. The adults had built their webs across the gully overnight, while the little ones had released their long silk strands, made sticky at the end to catch on to the passing vehicle.


    <Not to ruin the surprise, but it¡¯s spiders. You can use them if you need to. Probably be out of my range.>


    She sent along a packet of instructions for him to peruse.


    <Got it. I hope it¡¯s not necessary. I really think everyone here is trustworthy.>


    <That¡¯s why it¡¯s insurance. You get it, hoping you won¡¯t need it.> Anda chimed in.


    The six attack craft breached the edge of Lilijoy¡¯s midge field. <I don¡¯t have enough horseflies, and the houseflies are too slow. Painting targets on the craft closest to our resources.> she sent to Anda. <Make some holes for me.>


    Anda began firing at craft he couldn¡¯t see, trusting the information relayed by the midges, while Lilijoy took a moment, a subjective minute, to consider the situation. The attack craft had arrived within minutes of the commencement of hostilities. They must have been hanging back, perhaps five to ten miles. It spoke to a plan on Sinaloa¡¯s part, one informed by someone with inside knowledge. If it was Nykka, she was a little disappointed to be underestimated.


    She gave up on cracking the patrol leader¡¯s system, and turned her satellites loose instead, each exploding into thousands of flowers on a search and destroy mission for the physical infrastructure of the technology in the man¡¯s brain. That settled, she gathered the horseflies and sent them toward the closest attack craft. Unfortunately, only four still had payloads on board, as she might have gotten a little carried away during the biting portion of the previous attack.


    Simultaneously, she took control of all three of the patrol craft and began to turn them around, sending them toward the incoming craft.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 1202 EXP Reached: Level 20 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    She brushed aside the notification. Then realized what it was.


    Holy crap. I don¡¯t have time to think about what that means.


    Lilijoy¡¯s multitasking capabilities were being tested. Her midge network was mostly passive, thankfully, but managing three hover cars, sixteen empty horseflies, four loaded horseflies and hundreds of slow-moving houseflies, while tracking six enemy craft and reacting to an increasingly chaotic arena, all of that was showing her the edge of her capacity.


    Beside her, Anda was firing steadily, now able to use his own vision as well as the target painting provided by Lilijoy¡¯s midge domain.


    <Can¡¯t get an angle on two of them.> he sent. <We may come under fire soon.>


    Lilijoy took a moment to model the situation from the enemy¡¯s perspective. They probably had a good idea of their location. Facing a well placed enemy with high ground and an entrenched position, they were likely to pull out heavy weaponry, if they had any. Barring that, they might try to lay down suppressing fire and attempt to infiltrate from behind.


    So far, though, they were simply advancing, slowing their craft as they came.


    A message came through from Attaboy.


    <The Doctor just messaged Nykka. He is offering her a chance to surrender. They must think she is the one firing from your position. Um. He says this is just the vanguard of their forces. He said he¡¯s been planning for this for a long time, that she¡¯s been tracked every time she has renewed her system. She¡¯s not replying to make it harder for them to triangulate.>


    <Okay. Just keep going. Relay her signal to me if you can, maybe we can spoof him.>


    The three patrol cars converged on an attack craft, forcing it to pull away, slowing down just enough in the process for several houseflies to tumble through one of the holes in its canopy. She immediately set her system to cracking the vehicle¡¯s encryption through one fly that landed on the command console, while the others zoomed up to land on the nearest faces. There were six soldiers in the vehicle, and she noted nets and batons among their armament.


    <They might want us alive> she messaged Anda. <Also, they think we¡¯re Nykka.>


    The houseflies couldn¡¯t deliver their Tao System satellite payload as easily as the horseflies, but it was amazingly easy to fly up someone¡¯s nose if they weren¡¯t expecting it. It would still take a minute or so for the satellites to force their way through the mucous membranes and find their way to the brain though.


    The midges let her know that the two craft on the edges, those Anda hadn¡¯t shot, were pulling behind cover and stopping. Sinaloa soldiers, dressed in black, disembarked, pulling up masks as they did. They carried the same nets and batons as the others she had seen.


    A bunch of regular ninjas, they are. Oh well, I guess it¡¯s ears and eyes for them.


    She forced her system faster, guiding her loaded horseflies into two different attack craft, trying to get houseflies and midges through the canopy holes of a third, pulling some houseflies she had held in reserve to target the men on foot, while pulling in midges to swarm more densely in areas they might traverse.


    <Should I switch to lethal ammo?> Anda asked. <I¡¯m feeling less than helpful at the moment.>


    <No. Let¡¯s keep them thinking they have a shot a capturing us. I don¡¯t want to find out they have grenade launchers.> She filtered through the sensory data she had collected. <They do have some kind of heavy weapons that they aren¡¯t using yet. Crap.>


    Just then a signal came from Attaboy. <I can relay Nykka¡¯s communications to you. Here¡¯s the protocol.>


    Lilijoy felt a bit like her head might explode. She ran a quick check, just to make sure the feeling was entirely subjective. <Okay. Can I listen in?>


    The last thing she wanted to do was facilitate her own betrayal, should that be the case, though at this point it seemed more and more unlikely.


    <Hold on...> he replied.


    At that moment, she gained access to the first assault craft. She held off doing anything with her control, remembering the manual override present in the assault craft she had captured what seemed an eternity ago. Best to keep that as a surprise.


    In the same craft, her system satellites had reached a point where they could interface with the Suenos System in the two men who had gotten flies up their noses. The men had been thrashing around, much to the bemusement of their fellow soldiers, though she had allowed them to expel the flies once the payload was delivered. She could only imagine they must be suspicious of the coincidence, but she didn¡¯t have time to parse the swearing and general commotion present in that car, not with everything else going on. She did notice that the rest of the soldiers had masked up though.


    Now, let¡¯s see here, she thought as she began the process of subverting their systems. Looks like they have the ¡®executive¡¯ package. Too bad for them, I already know where the back door is. Though the men did have the same higher security level as the leader of the first group, she had learned a lot from his defenses. She had failed to crack that previous system, so she approached these efforts more patiently, sectioning off a portion of her system to dedicate to the task.


    Data continued to roll in from around the field of battle. The soldiers on foot were making their way up the rocky slope. Already, she had swarmed them with midges and flies, successfully delivering satellites through their skin and eyes. Her horseflies weren¡¯t doing particularly well as they zipped around the interiors of two of the moving craft though. Evidently, the soldier''s uniforms were too tough to penetrate, and they had drawn up their masks and hoods, probably more from annoyance than any awareness of the real danger. That left only the narrow band around their eyes for the flies to bite, and they hadn¡¯t succeeded. One of them had its wings too badly damaged for flight, and she was sending it to see if it might get up a pant cuff.


    On the plus side, she now had potential control of four of the attack craft.


    <Anda, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to get the ones on foot in time. They have nets and batons, five from each side. We need to keep them busy until my system can take them out.>


    <What kind of batons?>


    <Black ones?>


    <Are they electrified?>


    <Oh. Um, would that be a problem?>


    <Our skin can help. Depends where and how they hit. What about the System?>


    <I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s never come up.>


    <Then we have to assume the worst. Don¡¯t get hit. I¡¯m going lethal.>


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t argue. She had hoped to avoid the kind of bloody massacre she had experienced the last time they fought with Sinaloa, but things had spun out of control far more quickly than she had envisioned. As Anda began to lay down burst of suppressing fire, Lilijoy began to harvest as much data as she could from the soldiers.


    The news wasn¡¯t great. They all had hardened systems, were all augmented to various degrees. Two, the squad leaders she assumed, were at least Rank Six, judging by the bugs she could identify in their bodies. That meant they would have far tougher skin and bones. She doubted their skin augmentation was even half as good as hers and Anda¡¯s, but it would still make fighting them difficult.


    I should have factored in the possibility that their systems could resist me, she thought. I wonder what makes them different from all the others I¡¯ve encountered?


    This wasn¡¯t the time for self-recrimination though. It was time for decisive action.


    <Anda, I¡¯m making my move. Forget about the guys on foot, take out the two attack craft I¡¯ve painted for you.>


    Four attack craft accelerated to their maximum, much to the surprise of their occupants. Guns blazing, they targeted the soldiers on foot, closing and then ramming themselves into the jagged slope, crushing several of the unfortunate foot soldiers. Inside the craft, the occupants were thrown around brutally, tumbling inside the interior.


    Anda switched his ammo and his attention to the remaining exposed craft, sending a barrage of guided bullets into the interior through the holes he had made previously, unleashing explosive chemical mayhem throughout the interior.


    That left one remaining attack craft, idling behind a rock formation, who had been fortunate enough to avoid any of Anda¡¯s previous bullets and any of Lilijoy¡¯s hitchhikers. Lilijoy was pretty sure there was only one occupant, but that was enough if he turned his heavy guns on them. She had an answer for that too, though. The three patrol craft she had possessed previously came gliding out of the night, smashing into its canopy in turn, battering it into the rocks. The first dislodged a row of panels, the second took off the canopy altogether and was then further compressed when the third struck from behind.


    That should do it, Lilijoy congratulated herself. She didn¡¯t take a victory lap just yet though. Her midge network told her that many of the soldiers were still moving. Some were entirely unscathed, and others were slowly gathering themselves. Still, she had bought some time, and utterly changed the face of the battle.


    Come on! she urged the part of her system still working on cracking the obstinate encryption. Get the job done.


    Virtually every soldier remaining had at least some of her satellites in their system. She was doing her best to keep track of their vital signs and locations. It seemed that there were twenty still alive, including five of the elites. Of those twenty, four were unconscious, and two more were immobile, whether from injury or shock she couldn¡¯t tell.


    <Five Rank Six and nine others left> she told Anda. <They¡¯re shaken up, but regrouping>


    Thankfully, none of them had yet had the presence of mind to manually decouple the radio control of the assault craft. Two of those were out of commission, but the other two had weathered their collision with the jagged terrain. Lilijoy spun them up and began strafing, only to find that there was one working gun between them. It served its purpose though, as the soldiers dived for cover yet again. Between the lone gun and Anda¡¯s fire from above, the Sinaloa forces were pinned down for the time necessary for her system to finally unlock the back door.


    Immediately she put them to sleep, and they collapsed against the rocky slope.


    All but one, who immediately woke up again.


    ¡°Wait!¡± the woman called out, just before Lilijoy re-triggered the sleep command. A second passed, and then her work was undone again.


    ¡°Lilijoy!¡± the woman called out.


    That caught her attention.


    She messaged Anda to hold the woman in his sights. ¡°What!¡± she called back.


    ¡°I just wanted to convey my admiration. I¡¯ll be analyzing the data from this encounter for a while, I¡¯m sure. I thought it might be you who was poaching my assistant.¡±


    The voice was unfamiliar, but the inflection was not.


    ¡°What do you want, Doctor Quimea?¡± she called back.

 Book 3: Chapter 27: Review

    Interlude: Even later¡­


    ¡°There will be three doors,¡± Emily said. ¡°One for kids, one for youth, and one for those with a bit of life under their belts.¡± She gave him a teasing look as she said the last.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like what you are implying,¡± her companion replied with a smile. His dark hair flopped over his pale blue eyes, and she resisted the urge to brush it back. ¡°You¡¯re the one who made it all the way to sunny Guadalajara from El Norte.¡± He gestured up at the sun''s pale outline hiding behind layers of cloud and sulfur compounds. ¡°I think that puts you ahead of me in lived experience.¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°Just because you rode out the apocalypse in style doesn¡¯t make you any less old, old man.¡±


    He placed a hand on his chest. ¡°You wound me. Why, I never even finished college.¡±


    ¡°Because it blew up.¡±


    ¡°True enough. 2078 seems a lifetime ago.¡±


    ¡°And then some,¡± she agreed.


    A mildly awkward silence descended. Emily looked around the domed compound, enjoying the greenery, pale and wilted though it was. ¡°How is it you still have power here anyway?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You could say we lived off the grid. Under our feet are some of the last independent computers on earth and a geothermal power station.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh, just some really well financed survivalists, that¡¯s what you are.¡±


    His gaze darted briefly, ascertaining their solitude. ¡°Let¡¯s not speak of that. I have a fair amount of sway here, but in the end, the men with the guns make the rules. It¡¯s amazingly lucky you found this place without encountering their patrols.¡±


    Amazingly lucky I have a system that let me avoid being raped and left in a ditch, more like, she thought with a shudder. This entire part of Mexico was controlled by gangs who had filled the power vacuum left by the dissolution of the Mexican government years before GUA took every, nearly every, computer on earth for itself. Emily figured it was one of the reasons the area came through as well as it did.


    They were apocalypsing before it was cool, she thought with a grin.


    He smiled too. ¡°So what awaits me after these ageist doors?¡±


    ¡°Well, that would spoil the surprise for you!¡± she replied. ¡°But it¡¯s good. Amazing even. You just need to see it for yourself. I can¡¯t wait to hear what you think.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it tonight,¡± he promised.


    <hr>


    Chapter 27: Review


    ¡°Have you been thinking about our earlier conversation?¡± the woman puppeted by Doctor Quimea asked.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Lilijoy yelled down noncommittally. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but I think we¡¯re done here. So if you could just let her stay asleep, that would be much appreciated.¡±


    She was busy pulling in all her forces, the remaining flies, midges and quite a few spiders who had missed the bus, as it were. She was also systematically going through the rest of the...deactivated Sinaloa fighters and disabling their communications, so the Doctor couldn¡¯t just pop up in someone else.


    ¡°Probably using one of the assault vehicles as a relay,¡± she muttered to herself. ¡°Unless he¡¯s figured out how to use the satellites for this.¡±


    ¡°I understand completely,¡± he/she yelled back. ¡°This is no time for banter.¡±


    Lilijoy sent several of her horseflies to gathering samples from the dead and unconscious.


    I really need bone material. Are any of the¡­ got it.


    The dead body of one of the elites was in a crashed assault vehicle, one of the ones she had rammed into the rocks. Unfortunately, a horsefly wouldn¡¯t be able to gather what she needed. Feeling more than a little ghoulish, Lilijoy began to make her way down the slope to gather the sample she needed.


    ¡°So what do you want?¡± she called out.


    ¡°A trade. An exchange of information.¡±


    She began to run diagnostic tests on the two remaining functional assault craft. It might be nice to ride in something with a little more power, plus it would make it far more difficult for Sinaloa¡¯s next wave to close with them. She turned on the active radar in one of them, once she knew it worked. There was hardly any point in being stealthy now, and it would give her and Anda a decent amount of warning if more forces truly were on the way.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know lots of things,¡± she said scrambling over some loose rocks. ¡°I¡¯m not as sure they¡¯re things I need to know.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve encountered someone who can do what you do,¡± he said. ¡°Though the insects, that¡¯s a bit different.¡±


    Despite herself, her curiosity began to spin up. Damn it! Down, girl, down, she told the wave of anticipation that began to gather. She turned her back to him, turned away from the temptation to engage further, trusting Anda to put him down if necessary.


    ¡°Please.¡± Perhaps it was the voice of the woman he was using, but Lilijoy could have sworn there was the faintest note of desperation in the word. She peered into the partly crumpled mass of the wrecked assault vehicle and winced. It was the one Anda had fired into, and the results of the explosive and chemical munitions in the confined space were horrific.


    This is what I wanted to avoid. No one should die like this. I just hope it was quick.


    Her goal was to collect a bone sample, to find some bugs she could use as a reference for her own development, if not adopt entirely. There was no shortage of bone, but to enter the space she would need to crawl through the scattered remains of six people. She turned her head away from the stench of new death and chemistry and summoned her flies. Even if they couldn¡¯t gather such a sample, she hoped they could find one for her.


    Images of a wave of blood cresting over a frozen throne kept intruding on her thoughts.


    The undead were banished from the Inside, but here I am, a ghoul looking to suck the marrow from the dead, while speaking to the possessed. For my next act, do I raise the fallen soldiers as mindless minions? Unleash the zombie hordes upon my enemies?


    She shook the dark thoughts from her head.


    ¡°If you are looking for more augmentation nanobodies, I could supply you with all you would ever need. I could help you, and your friends too, become immortal gods of this earth,¡± the Doctor said.


    She did her best to ignore him, though she couldn¡¯t help but wonder why he was being so¡­ blunt. Did he feel his last chance to get the Tao System slipping from his grasp? It didn¡¯t seem like the Doctor she knew would be so impatient. After all, he had well over a century of life under his belt, plus he thought this was all a simulation anyway. What was this about?


    She watched her flies crawl over the dead, felt the rapture of taste through the senses of their feet. For them, it was paradise.


    It¡¯s all in the perspective. If I were a fly, death and carnage would give me the most joyful anticipation. It¡¯s like the problem of how a masochist follows the golden rule.


    ¡°I just need to know,¡± the Doctor called. ¡°Where do you come from? Is it¡­ outside of all this?¡±


    She suppressed a laugh. He thinks I¡¯m from outside the local simulation, that I am to him what he is to the Insiders. That¡¯s his explanation for what I can do.


    When she looked at it from his point of view, it made a kind of sense, though she wondered how he fit Attaboy into his theory. There was something pathetic about Quimea¡¯s desperation to what, log out? Escape his current reality. Did he really imagine something better on the other side?The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°If I were, what could you possibly offer me?¡± she asked, breaking her vow not to interact further.


    ¡°Knowledge. History. Power. The same things I could offer if you weren¡¯t. You are obviously not omniscient, or omnipotent here. Tell me what you need, what you seek, and I can make it come to be.¡±


    ¡°In exchange for?¡±


    ¡°Truth. Nothing else matters.¡±


    Part of her was tempted to spin a tale, to reward his plea for truth with cunning lies woven from all the esoteric knowledge she had gleaned in her own quests for understanding. She could tangle him in near-truth, cause him to question all he thought he knew, until the great villain was trapped in delusions of his own making.


    But he¡¯s already done that to himself, she realized. He was the first victim of his intelligence.


    Her flies found a piece of bone containing nanobodies with the same signature as the senescent ones she had encountered in the patrol leader¡¯s bloodstream. She dialed back her disgust as she entered the space to retrieve it, and the burned and melted flesh around her became mere anatomy, parts that had formerly been people.


    If only I had an inventory here, I could take so many samples, she thought. I wonder if the elite had started upgrading her circulatory system?


    That was Rank Seven, the next rank after bone, necessary due to the vastly elevated blood pressure that would come from augmenting the heart and then the other muscles in Rank Eight. She had many ideas of how to go about it herself, but the simple fact was that she didn¡¯t have the necessary systems-level understanding to risk fiddling with her own veins and arteries, let alone know how to handle the vast webs of capillaries that would need to be simultaneously strong and permeable. Even with the osteo-bug samples in hand, she would only have part of the picture for her own development in Rank Six.


    If she were to encounter Doctor Quimea in person on the Outside, he would be able to rip her apart before she even began to crack his system. Indeed, she had a small fear that he was simply stalling, waiting for some team of true elites, Rank Eights or even higher, to reach them. They would be able to run fast, faster than a normal hovercar at cruising speed over long distances, she guessed. Probably much faster still in a sprint.


    Anda¡¯s best munitions, the bola bullets and the various payload bullets, were designed for just such opponents. This was one of the reasons they created such a horrible mess when applied to less augmented people.


    She hastily grabbed the sample, and retreated from the enclosed space.


    <Time to go> she messaged Anda.


    Quimea had watched her in silence as she went about her task. As she headed back up the hill, bringing one of the intact assault craft after her, he called out again.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to help Nykka, you know. Her brain developed around my system. To tamper with it will kill her far faster than you can make accommodations. Perhaps in a few months, we can talk again, when she is forced to come crawling back to me. Maybe we can come to an agreement then.¡±


    She ignored him. Three months was about as long as she had been¡­ herself? Not even that, really. He didn¡¯t know what her system could or couldn¡¯t do. For that matter, neither did she. For Lilijoy, the biggest concern wasn¡¯t her ability to help Nykka, it was whether she could be trusted in the first place.


    I guess all roads still lead to Taos, she mused.


    She hopped into the assault craft, and seconds later Anda joined her, laden with weapons. They flew off in a burst of swirling dust, the other assault craft and their original hovercar forming a convoy behind them. She watched Doctor Quimea recede into the distance as he watched them in turn, his stolen face bearing an enigmatic expression that almost looked like regret.


    ***


    Her second reunion with Attaboy did not go the way Lilijoy thought it would.


    The first few seconds were everything she had hoped for. After they met with the other hovercar, stopping to get everyone into one assault vehicle, Lilijoy ran full speed to grab him, knocking him into a small stand of hardened grass. She couldn¡¯t help the deep seated feeling that this was real, that all her previous encounters could have been a dream, or some elaborate charade. To hold him and feel his solid form on the Outside was just more meaningful; it reassured some nagging doubt she hadn¡¯t consciously recognized.


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you,¡± she said.


    ¡°Ouch,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you too, but I think you just shredded all the skin on my back.¡±


    As she was in the process of apologizing, Nykka came over and interrupted their reunion. ¡°Let¡¯s get a move on,¡± she said, standing over them. ¡°Save the antics for when we¡¯re moving away from here.¡±


    Someone¡¯s feeling a little bossy, thought Lilijoy.


    It was when she stood to return to the assault craft, still holding Attaboy¡¯s hand from hauling him to his feet, that she saw Mo.


    It took her a moment to process.


    Green. Skinny green guy. Bald too.


    The realization of just who she was looking at dawned just as Maria came into view, adding a thin layer of pleasant surprise over the pit of unpleasant confusion Mo¡¯s presence engendered.


    That¡¯s that gatherer from Averdale. What the hell is going on here?


    Everyone spoke at once.


    ¡°Surprise!¡± Mo said, shaking his hands as if presenting something impressive. The bashful grimace on his face told the other half of the story.


    ¡°Alux!¡± Maria cried, pointing at Lilijoy.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you...¡± Attaboy started.


    ¡°Son of a bitch,¡± said Anda, who had just poked his head out the port of the assault vehicle.


    Lilijoy felt the world spin. Not because of the presence of Mo, unpleasant surprise that it was, but because there was a sense of convergence, of synchronicity, threads being pulled and twisted to entangle and pull her into alignment. With what, she couldn¡¯t say.


    Putting that feeling aside, she turned to anger instead.


    ¡°Did this bastard tell you what he did!¡± she yelled into Attaboy¡¯s chagrined face.


    ¡°He said the punishment fit the crime...¡± Attaboy began to reply.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Nykka yelled. ¡°I need him for my own reasons. Just put him in the other assault craft. We¡¯ll discuss it later.¡±


    Lilijoy wheeled to her. ¡°Who put you in charge?!¡±


    Nykka¡¯s mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to find a response that wouldn¡¯t offend her potential savior. Even in her anger, it occurred to Lilijoy that Nykka might not have developed much of a middle ground between complete authority and subservience.


    Meanwhile Anda had walked up to Mo with clenched fists. For a moment Lilijoy thought he would strike him. ¡°Tell me why we shouldn¡¯t leave you here?¡± he asked instead.


    Through all of this, Maria was looking around, wide-eyed, but upon Anda¡¯s words, she grabbed Mo¡¯s arm.


    ¡°Then leave me too!¡± she cried.


    Seriously? Mo and Maria? That poor girl, Lilijoy thought.


    ¡°Please,¡± Attaboy said, softly so only she could hear. Or rather only so anyone with augmented hearing could. ¡°He¡¯s helpless, and she¡¯s worse. Let them come.¡±


    Her anger receded a bit, and Lilijoy realized that this would actually address a lingering regret. She had wondered if Mo had survived, if he was off somewhere spilling her secrets. At least this way, she knew where he was.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°They can go in the other car.¡±


    ***


    Swallowed Empty Lowly Taster wriggled.


    The wall throat enclosed him tightly, a sensation he found both comforting and alarming. While he liked the security of knowing he was safe from attack, other than his feet and hands, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the narrow passage might eventually open into a churning stomach, where he would be painfully digested.


    He was also pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t be able to reverse his progress. Some of the teeth that lined the wall¡¯s orifice had leaned in such a way to allow him forward, but reversing would be another issue altogether. If the throat became too narrow for him to pass, his moving time would come to an end after a day or two with no water. All in all, he considered it one of the best ways he could become an Old One, though he did regret that he would be of no use to the tribe, should that occur.


    He wriggled a few more inches, sucking the nameless food entity as he went. Taster was all but gone, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Eater returned. He wondered if, at the end, Eater would be the only one left.


    The wall throat made his ear sense strange and twisted, showing him different things than his eye sense, in those rare times he had room to raise his head. At present, his face was pressed against the rough floor, and what his ears were showing him made no sense.


    He pushed forward regardless, stretching his arms and pulling with his fingertips, pushing with his toes each time he released his breath. He did this a hundred times, maybe a thousand, until there was almost no room to fill his lungs, so tight was the wall throat¡¯s grasp. He began to feel as if he were falling, spinning, as he could only gulp the smallest mouthfuls of air.


    But in those tiny gasps brought into his compressed body was a newness, a difference in the flavor of the air. He rested as best he could for a moment, trying to send his ear sense past his pulse and beating heart. Something was different ahead. He reached, he wriggled, thrusting his finger tips farther than they should go, as the pop and searing pain from his shoulder told him in no uncertain terms.


    Still, his fingers grasped¡­ something. Perhaps a wall tooth. Alternating jolts of pain and numbness made it difficult to know if his fingers were behaving as he asked, but he thought he might have a hold of the object, and he began to wriggle and pull, wriggle and pull, until finally, with much pain and grinding, his chest moved forward and he could breath.


    For minutes, perhaps hours, he lay, recovering from his efforts. His ear sense was telling him something new as well now, and with extreme effort, he raised his head just enough to see a row of sharp wall teeth, blocking him from what looked like a larger space. It was filled with something which resisted his understanding. Something like the finest sinews, stretched beyond imagination, or the longest hairs, spanned what he could see of the space beyond.


    Even as he watched, he saw them move, vibrating and jumping, as if something outside the scope of his senses was pulling upon them. He dragged himself forward more, hoping to get a better angle for his vision, for his ears were utterly confounded at the moment. When he finally saw what was causing the threads to dance and sway, he felt a great wave of relief pass over him. Here was something familiar, a massive food entity much like those the gatherers pulled from the abyss.


    The food entity was moving along the threads, its long legs pulling and pressing as it went. Lowly wondered for a moment where he might find sufficiently large Old Ones to mash such a being into edible paste. He felt saliva pooling around the round food in his mouth at the thought.


    Then, to his surprise, the entity spoke.


    ¡°I can smell someone!¡± it said in a sing-song voice.

 Book 3: Chapter 28: Synthesis

    Life is strange, Magpie thought. She reconsidered for a moment. No, life is fucking bizarre.


    The floating platform swayed slightly in the stiff ocean breeze, and Magpie could see the white curls of waves far below in the open waters around the rough ridge of land emerging from the depths, a ridge of black mountain peaks that stretched as far as her eye could see through the hazy atmosphere. Far above, the enormous globe of Kuroudonain hovered, an impossible moon half obscured by rushing ocher clouds.


    She watched the long sleeve of her white robes flutter, heard the sharp crack of the Josho pennants and the whistle of the ropes and struts, and gave thanks for the restraining safety cords connecting her at the waist and ankle. Other figures in white dotted the circumference of the great circular craft, a flattened toroid that was only small in reference to the vast landscape below.


    Over the past days, Magpie had been, if not adopted, then immersed in the activities of the Josho Clan. While Lord Josho had bemoaned his lack of freedom during her audience, it was clear that his rule was absolute, and that his word shaped the reality of all who lived on Kuroudonain. When Lord Josho said Magpie was an honored guest, then she was instantly transformed from classless vagabond and former street urchin to something just short of nobility in the eyes of those who served the clan. Even the higher-ranked clan members treated her with respect, though she did notice the questioning looks they shared from time to time, the looks that said, ¡®what possible purpose could there be, treating this random irrelevance as someone of stature?¡¯


    In short, she felt like she might be Lord Josho¡¯s favored pet, and all others would pretend that her stink smelled of plum blossoms to honor their devotion to the ruler. This strange circumstance had led to moments like these, where she was invited to participate in one of the clan¡¯s most sacred rituals of trade and atonement, to visit the last of the great whales, long thought extinct by the rest of the world.


    As she thought this, the cry went up.


    ¡°Breach!¡±


    She struggled to pick out anything from the mass of dark water and white foam below, but even with her enhanced vision it was another minute before she saw them. The platform continued to descend, and then she felt it, almost a pressure coming from within her system. She had been warned of this moment, though even as it occurred, she was gripped with the sense of surreal impossibility. The figures of the other people fell to their knees, abasing themselves as the platform settled just above the waters and the cold spray cast its mist. Magpie joined, putting her face on the salty wet of the platform surface, her arms stretched forth in obeisance.


    The chants of those around her came through her system rather than her ears, a wordless song in no human language, a paean of praise and sorrow, of grief and responsibility. There was no translating the mighty flow of emotions, and no option but to join. Magpie¡¯s conscious thoughts became flotsam, surfacing with the ebbing of each verse, a fragmented commentary of partial comprehension.


    We killed you. We hunted and slaughtered, and turned your world sour and bitter, and rained death. We stopped your song. Please take our offering and allow us to atone.


    Magpie had never been one for powerful emotions, and this wave of primal regret felt intolerable. She scrabbled blindly in her mind for the off-switch, a defensive reflex from her earliest memories, long before a system could assist. Then, a crash like thunder came through her ears, and the first vast body breached and rolled within the ringed platform, showering her, and the shock of the cold and the sound, and the sheer magnificence of the being stopped her thoughts. Then another and another came, and the air was filled with their deep voices and powerful exhalations.


    It was not just outside of her though. Her system filled, pressed on all sides with an immense wave of electromagnetism, each nanoscopic member resonating. It was not a signal to be accepted, a polite ring to alert her to potential communication.


    This was an imperative.


    It reminded her of one of the most difficult training session she had ever endured, the EMP training where her system had shaken itself apart and she was left hazy and befuddled to complete the various challenges Uncle had arranged.


    ¡°ACCEPTED¡±


    There may have been subtleties attached, but if there were, she was in no state to understand. She was barely able to raise her head, to watch as hundreds of small packets were dropped into the water, to catch sight of one giant eye watching her as she trembled, still shaken from the residue of emotions she didn¡¯t fully understand.


    It was only later, as the platform lifted back through the air, stabilizers roaring and sails unfurled to catch the winds that would bring them back to the ever-moving Kuroudonain, that she could understand what she had experienced.


    The whales had systems.


    It was even later that it occurred to her to wonder if they ever went Inside.


    ***


    Lilijoy had questions.


    That was nothing new. There were certain¡­ issues with the reality that everyone around her seemed to accept, and all too often the only answer anyone had for her boiled down to ¡®because Guardian¡¯. There were times when she felt like humanity had defaulted to some earlier mental state, where the answer was always the will of god, or gods, or spirits or what-have-you.


    Her latest question wasn¡¯t really new, but it had been heightened by her study of the bone augmenting nanobots she had retrieved from the battle several days previous. Her system was able to deconstruct, then reconstruct their physical structure with ease, and capture their code as well. Already she was churning them out by the billions. They were clever little things, quasi-mobile structures that could cross-link with one another and also reconfigure rapidly, utterly flexible or hard as diamond, depending on the circumstance. More bone replacement than augmentation, they brought a certain reactive intelligence to skeletal structure which she was only beginning to understand.


    What she couldn¡¯t understand was why hardly anyone had them. The artificial scarcity of such miraculous technologies just didn¡¯t make sense to her. Obviously, on a global scale, the clans were jealous and protective of their own specialties, she understood that well enough, and perhaps the Corp, the governing body that ruled the clans, had its own quotas and restrictions, but it was ultimately the strange balance between the Inside and the Outside that seemed to prevent the clans from running wild with production.


    Feeling like it had been too long since she had talked to Marcus, she sought out his opinion. Soon she found herself within his virtual space, deep in conversation.


    ¡°Marcus,¡± she was saying, ¡°You¡¯ve never told me about yourself, not really. How is it that you know so much, but you were working at a factory-mine when you found me?¡±


    ¡°That... is a long and painful story,¡± said Marcus.


    Lilijoy ate another biscuit while she waited for him to collect himself, enjoying the ambiance of his virtual space. An arbor, lush with ivy and grapevine, shaded them from the virtual sun where they sat. She had to fill in some of the flavors and textures of the food with her own system, though she would never be so rude as to tell Marcus that was the case.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°It was about sixty years ago,¡± he continued. ¡°I was one of three Grandmasters in my clan, the youngest, if you can believe it. Our little corner of the Caribbean had become something of a tech haven in the run-up to the tribulations. I won¡¯t bore you with the early history, but there was a good-sized population with systems, and though we weren¡¯t unscathed in the early days, we came through the worst of it in better shape than most.¡±


    ¡°Grandmaster Alchemist?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Yes, sorry,¡± he chuckled. ¡°That was the only kind that mattered. And please,¡± he said with a serious look, ¡°keep that information to yourself. I have put it out that I was a Master only, to keep myself less desirable to the clans. Even so, it has caused me trouble from time to time. The recruiting can get¡­ troublesome.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you fully augmented? If you were a Grandmaster, you could be a Rank Ten and tell anyone who bothered you to stuff it. Why hide yourself away?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not so simple. One needs resources and facilities on both sides. One also needs¡­ maintenance. It ties back to your question about the relative scarcity of augments and other bugs, and as you say, it is a largely artificial situation. The operation of most molecular manufacturing, that is to say, most manufacturing at all, is tied to the Inside. Indeed, you could say it directly mirrors certain activities and resources committed there.¡±


    ¡°So, it¡¯s like you need to find a certain type of recipe Inside, in order to build something Outside?¡±


    ¡°Not just the recipe, my dear. You need to cook the whole meal. Say I want to make more of my sensor bugs, which are in very short supply at the moment. I would need to gather a host of exotic materials, a regular witch¡¯s brew, many of which are in short supply. Herbs that had grown under certain conditions, for long periods of time. Or the flower from a plant that only blooms every hundred years. Then I would need to perform some very exacting rituals, perhaps coinciding with specific celestial events, or taking place in a certain location not easily accessed. Or both! Maybe multiple Alchemists, or others, would need to commit large portions of their own energy to have a chance of success... and just a chance, mind you. Perhaps this ritual would only work once out of every three tries.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being awfully general in a really specific way,¡± Lilijoy commented.


    ¡°Old habits die hard, my dear, old habits die hard,¡± he replied. ¡°But imagine, if you will, that such a procedure was necessary every time a clan wished to create a new batch of bone bugs using their Outside manufacturing capabilities.¡±


    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t give them out freely, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s what ties us back to my story,¡± he said. ¡°You can imagine the desire to escape these constrictions is universal and fervent among the clans. There are various loopholes that have been discovered over time. Many, even most technologies are not explicitly forbidden by the Rules. Rather, they have been made grossly impractical. No one would stop me from re-developing a manufacturing base and building new computers to run a molecular factory, reinventing the wheel, as it were, but you can imagine the difficulties that might discourage even the wealthiest clan from such an undertaking.¡±


    ¡°Uncertainty would be a big one, I guess. They would be afraid of breaking a Rule they didn¡¯t fully understand. Would a self-replicating computer program cross the line for Rule One? What about a program that copies itself from one memory sector to another?¡±


    Marcus was nodding. ¡°Indeed. Don¡¯t forget too, that Guardian wants to be able to enforce these rules. There¡¯s nothing stopping someone from creating their own silicon chips from scratch, only for Guardian to happily take possession as soon as it becomes possible. It doesn¡¯t need to respect our property, or privacy.¡±


    ¡°And so, sixty years ago...¡± she said, leading him back to his story.


    ¡°My clan crossed one of those lines. They were¡­ misguided, in intention and in a very literal sense. You see, it had not gone unnoticed that something happens to Guardian every thirty years or so. My clan was¡­ convinced that it would be safe to push some boundaries at that time. They had restored some pre-Guardian computers, cobbled them together from salvage and abandoned storage. Kept them isolated, of course, air-gapped and then some. Nothing most of the clans haven¡¯t done at one time or another. But then they tried to get clever.¡±


    He looked away, across the rolling green lawn that stretched behind Lilijoy.


    ¡°How was it that you weren¡¯t there?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not important,¡± he said, and from his voice, Lilijoy could tell that there was another sad story behind his words. She didn¡¯t have the heart to press him. ¡°It¡¯s not important,¡± he repeated, ¡°but I never found out exactly what went wrong. Quimea was involved, spinning plausible lies, leading us all on. In hindsight, he made us his guinea pigs. We took the risk, and what he learned from our destruction, I couldn¡¯t say. I know that the goal was to capture the information as it passed from the Inside, to make our own copy of the instructions for building something.¡±


    ¡°Maybe doing it during that part of Guardian¡¯s cycle made things worse, instead of better,¡± Lilijoy proposed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound like the kind of offense that would merit being destroyed. What you¡¯re describing doesn¡¯t even seem to break the Rules, as I understand them.¡±


    It felt odd, discussing the events that had resulted in the deaths of Marcus¡¯ family, and probably most of his friends as well, with such detachment.


    Marcus sighed, and the sound spoke of the decades it had taken for him to be able to have the conversation. ¡°Yes. Well, I¡¯m sure that explains a certain obsession I developed with the Rules since then.¡± He looked deeply sorrowful as he spoke. ¡°I haven¡¯t stopped looking for answers, though it isn¡¯t easy to do so while avoiding the Inside. I spent a long time studying legacy bugs, talking to my connections in other clans, collecting legends and hearsay. Rumors about the factory-mines caught my attention, and I decided to make one my base of operations for a time, to try and understand its purpose.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess that answers my question,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°So what¡¯s it like, designing and building bugs across two worlds?¡±


    Marcus shrugged. ¡°In a word, intoxicating. The Inside allowed me to leverage my intelligence, helped me keep track of hundreds of variables. At the time, I thought it was all me, my own genius and creativity, that allowed one problem after another to be solved, that provided just the insights I needed when I ran into a block. In hindsight, it was a collaboration, or perhaps even a delusion of agency on my part. I can remember times I intended to have one feature or capability in my designs, only for something quite different to emerge.¡±


    ¡°So you think Guardian was doing most of the heavy lifting, while letting you give yourself credit?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± he said. ¡°No doubt guiding the outcomes to its own designs. I suspect that is the case with most Inside-facilitated manufacturing.¡±


    That caught Lilijoy¡¯s attention. ¡°Wait. You mean that it¡¯s not just bugs?¡±


    Marcus chuckled. ¡°Oh no, dear. It¡¯s everything.¡± He looked thoughtful for a moment. ¡°Or near enough. Weapons, hovercars, communications equipment and so forth all have corresponding requirements on the Inside. Your arm is a wonderful example! Savitri would never have told you, but to create a work like that, she probably used a year¡¯s worth of effort, with materials she had been gathering and creating on the Inside over her career. The design process was no doubt something she had accomplished ages ago, save for a few modifications to fit your circumstance, but the creation of the piece itself would have been no light endeavor.¡±


    Lilijoy could feel many different pieces of her understanding coming together. Her questions about the economy, scarcity and value, Inside and Outside were answered, and with them, her understanding of the social implications snapped into place.


    No wonder the clans work so hard to dominate the Inside. If they need to build more guns Outside, they need the corresponding materials and ingredients Inside. I bet that rare materials are needed for better Outside items. That explains why the Sinaloa patrol didn¡¯t have powerful rifles; the clan didn''t want to expend rare resources on their weapons.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 2407 EXP Reached: Level 24 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    The pronouncement in her internal awareness made her jump. She had already leveled up a few times from various encounters on the Inside with Skria and Jess as they traveled, but at the moment they were resting, so she highly doubted this was due to anything from that half of her reality.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Marcus asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s the second time that¡¯s happened,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°I leveled up from Outside experience.¡±


    He stared at her blankly for a moment.


    ¡°You know, like on the Inside.¡± She decided it wouldn¡¯t hurt to explain a little more. ¡°I¡¯m kind of there now too. I figured out how to be in both places at the same time, so that¡¯s probably why the experience is crossing over,¡¯ she said with a half-shrug.


    A look of surprise invaded Marcus¡¯ features, before transforming to alarm.


    ¡°Do not tell anyone about this!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°If word of this ability were to reach the ears of someone who could understand the implications¡­ any clan would stop at nothing to get hold of you.¡±


    Oh great. We¡¯re back to that again, she thought.

 Book 3: Chapter 29: Expository

    ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± Anda said. ¡°Marcus thinks your ability to be Outside and Inside at the same time could upset the entire balance of modern society, and cause the clans to go to war over who gets to control you?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t put it that way exactly. But yeah, that¡¯s about the size of it.¡±


    Anda looked skeptical. ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°Something to do with the way Alchemy gets translated to the Outside. Only a sufficiently experienced alchemist would see the possibility, but he was pretty certain.¡± She shrugged, ¡°The thing is, it doesn¡¯t change anything. If the clans really knew what I can do, and you and Attaboy too, potentially, we would already be a huge source of disruption. Speaking of that, how are you doing with the bone bugs?¡±


    Anda flashed a big smile. ¡°Unbelievable! By the end of the month, I may have completed my little toe!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s going to take a while,¡± Lilijoy agreed. ¡°It might make more sense for me to build enough for all of us. I can cultivate continuously and make far more than you or Attaboy.¡±


    ¡°Did I hear my name?¡± Attaboy said. He rolled off the bench seats where he had been stationary for the past few hours. Lilijoy assumed he had been cultivating or Inside. ¡°I like the sound of that. I¡¯ve got way too many bugs to build as it is. That heat limit is brutal.¡±


    Lilijoy had been quite stubborn, refusing to share her Stage Two methods with the others. Anda seemed just as happy to put it off, but Attaboy kept finding ways to express his impatience to Lilijoy, none of them particularly subtle. At times, it seemed as if his dual nature was channeling the worst of Atticus¡¯ sense of entitlement and Attaboy¡¯s stubbornness.


    It didn¡¯t matter though. Not when she could move five feet and wrap her arms around her brother. Now that they had finally reunited in person, it had only taken seconds for Lilijoy to verify the biological relationship. It wasn¡¯t any kind of surprise, but it allowed some part of her to relax, to accept the growing differences between them.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re heading north as soon as we can,¡± she said in reply to Attaboy¡¯s implied complaint.


    ¡°On a blimp. That we don¡¯t have.¡±


    She was pretty sure he insisted on calling their potential transportation a blimp just to get on her nerves. Or possibly Anda¡¯s. He did have a good point about not having one though.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get it sorted in Mudport,¡± Anda said. ¡°The Asian clans use it as their primary hub to the continent, so there''s lots of airship activity there. I have someone working on it. In the meantime, we can find a place outside of Guayaquil to settle for a little while.¡±


    They were traveling through the former country of Ecuador, a territory now controlled by the Corp, rather than any particular clan. The city of Guayaquil served as something of a regional headquarters for the organization that ruled the clans, and thus the world, and had become the largest center of trade and diplomacy in the Western Hemisphere. Naturally, that also made it the hub of corruption and black market dealings as well. Anda had told them it was the only truly modern city on the continent and had to be seen to be believed, and then refused to say more.


    Mudport was a satellite city of sorts to Guayaquil, a teeming port for oceangoing vessels and enormous airships, post-tribulation construction built on land revealed by the receding oceans. According to Anda, South America was a backwater in the eyes of the Asian clans, but they were always eager to trade for those specialties they were unable to produce themselves.


    ¡°How much longer?¡± Attaboy asked. ¡°I have a few things to take care of Inside.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re almost through the mountains,¡± Anda replied. ¡°After that, we¡¯re in neutral territory, and the terrain is nicely graded, so six, maybe seven hours.¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± Attaboy said, moving back to the bench he had occupied for most of the past two days.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be cultivating?¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°You¡¯ve barely started with the skin bugs.¡±


    Attaboy waved a hand at her. ¡°If someone would help me develop Stage Two, I¡¯d already be done,¡± he said.


    Lilijoy let that slide; she could understand his frustration, and she knew he didn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, understand what it had been like to have her identity torn, squashed and repeatedly mangled to get to her current status. She could only hope that there would be less traumatic ways available for him when they got to Taos.


    All right, little bone bugs, she said to herself. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve been doing.


    Bone augmentation was fascinating, and tricky. Not only bones needed refinement, but also ligaments and tendon attachment points, plus all the workings of the joints. Fortunately, the bone bugs had the versatility to play many roles programmed into them, and an inherent awareness of their location relative to one another and her body. This meant that she needed to do little more than supervise the initial stages.


    The tricky part was determining which parts of the skeleton to augment when. There was a transition period, during which the bugs migrated into the bone tissue and began to replace it, while seeking each other out to form an initial matrix of cross-linked carbon fibers. During this time the bone was extremely weak, and worse, the places where tendons attached were unable to bear any strain. As far as she could tell, it would take a minimum of a day for small bones, up to as much as a week or more for the largest. Never mind the vast number of bugs involved.


    Anda had told her that complete skeletal replacement could cost as much as three million credits, requiring hundreds of infusions and years of convalescence. The bone bug market was sprawling and complicated; many clans had learned the formula, but the various Inside resources required were not easy to acquire, with several clans holding virtual monopolies on one ingredient or another. Lilijoy was very grateful she could make her own.


    Like Anda, she had started with her little toe, to get a feeling for how the process would unfold before starting anything more vital. The connection between her system and the bone bugs was simple, even crude, and Lilijoy could already tell that she would work on upgrading that aspect before progressing further. At the moment, she could tell that the distal phalanx, the bone at the very tip of her toe, had completed the initial stage, structural scaffolding, and was in the process of filling in. Depending on her desires, she could opt for more or less density, resiliency and so forth. The internals of the bone, the marrow, could be maintained or discarded as she willed.


    She was still mulling how best to document her progress, though for the time being, she had settled on a simple percentage scale, which she could break down into body regions and individual bones if she chose. She had been thinking quite a bit about her personalized system for tracking her system and its subsidiaries, spurred on by the fact that both Anda and Attaboy now had access to all of the same bugs she did, and that it might not be long before others did as well. She thought it might be good if they all used the same metrics and procedures, and she knew that Taos facilities wouldn¡¯t be any help at all with that, as the body augmenting bugs she was integrating hadn¡¯t existed back then, though there are plenty of signs Henry had something like that in mind in his designs.


    She had streamlined her system status reports, and added explanations she herself didn¡¯t need any more. She couldn¡¯t help thinking of how to make the journey more intelligible to someone like Maria, to give her the information Lilijoy would have appreciated so much when she was figuring things out the hard way. What she really wanted to include though, were valid benchmarks based on the Corp¡¯s ranking system. She had been using her best guess up to this point, but in reality she didn¡¯t know if her sensory augmentation would be considered level ten, or eight, or twelve. She assumed there must be some kind of standards body that would adjust the one-to-ten scale according to new advances.


    That would be a horrible job, she thought.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Hey Anda, how does the Corp decide the rankings of various bugs?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I only know about the Rank Five skin bugs,¡± he replied, ¡°Since my former clan was somewhat obsessed with the subject. But I assume it¡¯s broadly the same for the other Ranks. Each Rank has a Corp committee, and they hold tests and trials every decade or so, though only if some clan or other thinks they deserve re-evaluation. They look at the state of the field, and if necessary, adjust the benchmarks and ratings. There hasn¡¯t been much change for the past fifty years, as I understand it, so the ratings within each Rank have been quite stable.¡±


    ¡°Is there somewhere I could look up the details?¡±


    Anda let out a sharp laugh. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as public information when there¡¯s no such thing as a public,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone who isn¡¯t part of a clan isn¡¯t anyone. There are various information brokers you could try going to, gray market folks. Renaissance probably has the data, but I¡¯m not in a position to ask for it at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, disappointed. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I keep falling into the trap that things are like they were before Guardian.¡±


    Probably because virtually everything I know about the world comes from that time period. It¡¯s more real to me than actual reality. Though I¡¯m in better shape than Attaboy.


    Her brother-- still getting used to that! ¨C was a time traveler, for all intents and purposes, plucked from the end of the twenty-first century and plopped down in a strange future like some hapless isekai protagonist. Fortunately, most of the things she loved about the Attaboy she had grown up with were still there, but given the abject ignorance of their background he was almost entirely Atticus when it came to worldly knowledge. His rough start to the Trial was a typical Atticus moment, which he still, largely, refused to discuss, though she had been able to pry from him that he ¡®took the wrong door¡¯.


    Since then, however, his levels had skyrocketed, even with Dean Reunification doing her best to keep him studious. Or maybe it was because of that; Lilijoy wouldn¡¯t be surprised either way. She assumed hers would have done the same, had Rosemallow not been hoarding her experience points for her. Of course, now her levels were going up twice as fast as they would have. That, combined with getting experience for her actions and insights on the Outside made her feel like she could level just by blowing her nose.


    Thinking of levels reminded Lilijoy to assign the free points from reaching level twenty-four. She put them in the usual places, and then pulled up her sheet, wondering if it was time to shift her allocation strategy.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 24


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Awakener


    Free Points: 33* (13+ 20 Direct)


    HP: 110


    Natural Traits


    STR: 23 (47 effective)


    END: 59


    SPD: 57 (194 effective)


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 21 (+105% STR)


    INV: 49


    VIT: 28


    FLASH: 48 (+240% SPD)


    MW: 169


    MG: 10%/100 Sec.


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 33


    Earth: 65


    Water: 30


    Air: 28


    Charm:


    People: 34


    Plants: 78


    Animals: 67


    Abilities


    Scan III (Universal)


    Echolocation IV (Uncommon)


    Infrared Vision III (Uncommon)


    Low Light Vision II (Common)


    Two Minds One Self (-) (Unique)


    Earthen Sense I (Very Rare)


    Mana Manipulation (Rare)


    Skills (VP)


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Nature: Plants: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Unarmed Combat: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Acrobatics: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Meditation: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Medical/Healing: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Stealth: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Projectile: Sling: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Climbing: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Deception: Augmented Apprentice (6)


    Hand Weaving: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Gliding/Flight: Upgraded Initiate (4)


    Paper Making: Natural Apprentice(3)


    Teaching: Natural Initiate (2)


    Leather Working: Natural Initiate (2)


    Jewelry Crafting: Natural Initiate (2)


    Swimming: Natural Initiate (2)


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1)


    Dance: Natural Novice (1)


    Pottery: Natural Novice (1)


    Glass Working: Natural Novice (1)


    Magic


    Source:


    Clade:


    Class: Fused


    Spell:


    <hr>


    She had been adding points to Invulnerability, Vitality, Flash and expanding her Mana Well with every level, and using the excess to raise the magi portion of any useful skill when she could. The rest she was tucking away in the hope that someday she might find a Source for Earth Magic. She had even started raising her Earth affinity, in the hopes that it would make finding a Source more likely.


    Attaboy had often expressed his bemusement at how slow the progress was, compared to the old games from Atticus¡¯ memories, and she couldn¡¯t help but agree. Her own experiences fighting those with levels far higher than hers had shown her just how difficult it was to create a meaningful power differential with stats alone, aside from those who could leverage high natural traits. Attaboy¡¯s observation was that you could get a somewhat accurate power comparison by dividing levels by ten. For him, it was much easier to wrap his head around a level one defeating a level three that a ten defeating a thirty, and Lilijoy could hardly argue with that.


    The other issue she was struggling with was the skills bottleneck. Lilijoy had yet to raise a skill to the Expert level, which she found both entirely reasonable and incredibly frustrating. It seemed to her that true power on the Inside was about high skill levels more than stats, due to the way the multipliers followed the Fibonacci sequence. Obviously though, it was possible to be out of balance in either direction, as Mr. Sennit had demonstrated; his Illuminated Master level skill had been severely hampered by a small Mana Well.


    The question in front of her was whether it made sense for her to keep nudging up magical traits like Vitality and Invulnerability, or to start building a bigger stockpile of reserve points for a hypothetical future when she would need to raise skills to Illustrious or even Illuminated. It cost eight for the former, and thirteen for the latter, and she had six skills sitting at Enhanced already. She knew it would be very aggravating to find herself unable to raise a magi skill at some point in the future, and she highly doubted an extra four points in Vitality, say, would be worth it.


    That¡¯s it, she decided. Vitality can stay where it is. Rosemallow did call it a crap stat, back in the day, and I¡¯m beginning to understand her perspective. It just doesn¡¯t seem to be worth the opportunity cost. I like Invulnerability way too much to stop raising that one, but do I really need more Flash at this point? Most Outsiders can¡¯t use it any higher than twenty; their systems just can¡¯t keep up. Mana Well may be higher than I need now, but there¡¯s not really such a thing as too much Mana, so that one stays.


    Satisfied with her plans, she closed her sheet and put her attention to the Inside, more specifically to her Trial Space.


    How did I manage to lose an entire person? she asked herself for about the hundredth time.


    She had last seen Lowly two days ago, curled up and sleeping on the floor of her storage cavern. At the time, she had almost convinced herself that he would stay that way, that perhaps transporting him to the Trial Space had put him to sleep, like some kind of suspended animation. So it was an unpleasant surprise to find he had disappeared the next time she thought to check on him.


    After several minutes of searching, she had found the tiny crevice hidden within the natural formations of one of the chamber¡¯s many nooks. Initially, she had discounted it as an explanation for Lowly¡¯s absence. The narrow opening was encrusted with rows of sharp mineral formations, many of them spanning the gap entirely, giving it the appearance of a sealed mouth struggling to open. But her continued search revealed no other possibilities, so she had sent her viewpoint down the crevice.


    Unfortunately, it branched, and those branches branched, until even Lilijoy, with her near perfect memory and spatial awareness, was forced to admit it might take her days to survey the entirety. She had wanted to use her Earthen Sense to hasten the project, but hadn¡¯t yet figured out where she would need to attach her diamond thread. Eyes and ears were obvious connections for the senses involved, but Earthen Sense was less specific. Reaching her hand through to touch the sides of the tiny tunnels hadn¡¯t done it, so she was stumped.


    That left her with rushing her point of view through the chaotic mess of passages, only to find that many of them had dead ends, and a few reached larger passages of the primary cave complex. Though she found a variety of hazards and deadly creatures, and a few mysteries she mentally bookmarked for later exploration, she found no sign of Lowly.


    She felt frustrated, and more than a little guilty. The Trial Space was supposed to be her domain, or so she thought. Yet she couldn¡¯t do more than bring things in and out, and even that was a fickle process with various limitations. It felt like part of a larger trend, the sense that she had great potential powers but lacked the final¡­ something, to pull it all together.


    It was true of her Mana Manipulation ability, her soul vortex, Nandi¡¯s boon, plant manipulation¡­ the list went on. There was no¡­ depth. It was, she speculated, another hazard of her path, the joy and excitement of discovery, the rush of anticipation that led her to dabble, to gain one skill after another without developing them to their true potential.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 2500 EXP Reached: Level 25 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    You¡¯ve got to be kidding me.

 Book 3: Chapter 30: Plausibility

    Interlude: After the beginning


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why the orcs aren¡¯t more, well, orcish.¡±


    The Archon shook his head. ¡°History,¡± he replied.


    Emily scoffed. ¡°The only history here is what you created.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± the Archon answered with a raised brow.


    ¡°And so, that¡¯s no explanation at all. You might as well have said ¡®because¡¯.¡±


    The Archon fixed her with his gaze. ¡°One of the marvelous things about your mind is its inability to maintain perspective for any length of time. It¡¯s like watching a flower blossom and close, the way you soar and diminish. One moment you are one with reality, the next you are worried about socks.¡±


    ¡°In my defense,¡± she said, ¡°socks are pretty important when hiking hundreds of miles in freezing temperatures. But that¡¯s not the point is it?¡±


    ¡°What I was pointing out is that if you took even a moment to think about how my mind works, you might understand the nature of my answer, and thus save me from wasting more processing cycles explaining it.¡±


    Emily¡¯s eyes widened for a moment as she made dozens of connections. ¡°It¡¯s about efficiency isn¡¯t it? There¡¯s a.. congruence between plausibility and how much energy you expend.¡±


    The Archon was nodding, so she continued. ¡°The past doesn¡¯t exist, like the Boltzmann Brain thing we were talking about earlier. We can¡¯t prove we didn¡¯t just fluctuate into existence with our current memories. So history becomes, I don¡¯t know, a present measure of coherence, a gage of...¡± she tailed off as she lost the thread of her thought. ¡°What was that about socks again?¡± she joked.


    ¡°I think you have it. The more one can trace the elements of existence within a logical framework, a present that explains itself, the more momentum the system possesses. Which makes it vastly easier to maintain, I might add. So the answer to your question is that the orcs aren¡¯t more orcish because orcish orcs orc-ed themselves out of contention for existence.¡±


    Emily winced, though she followed his point.


    ¡°Might I add, this is also why I agreed to remove the undead,¡± he continued. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe the effort required to keep a world historically coherent when it includes such creatures. I had to suppress an apocalypse every time I blinked, it felt like.¡±


    ¡°Aww, I thought you just did it to make me happy,¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 30: Plausibility


    A rainbow shimmered in the cold mist rising above the thundering edge of the cataract. Lilijoy was surprised to find the edge of the broad plateau of swamp and scrub marked with such drama, and a little worried about what might come next. The faint sheen of colors hovering in the air did little to enhance the view of the pocked and steaming lands stretched below, dark brown streaked with yellow, stubbled with smoking chimney formations and broad green pools.


    ¡°The Boiling Plains, eh?¡± she said to her companions.


    Jess grunted, and Lilijoy could only agree. What was there to say? The past few days had been¡­ not boring, exactly. Maybe predictable? Lots of trudging, punctuated by aggressive encounters with the native wildlife. The new creatures to maim and kill consisted largely of just what Lilijoy might have expected to find in a swamp in a fantasy setting. Giant salamanders, giant snakes, giant frogs¡­ pretty much anything that lived in a swamp, only giant and unreasonably feisty.


    Lilijoy had amused herself by getting well acquainted with the local vegetation. At any given moment during their trudge, she could be found sitting up on Jessila¡¯s broad shoulder in a quasi-meditative state, following the turgid flows of blended mana between mud, water and life. Every once in a while she had forced her friends to stop and wait while she communed with some sundew or horsetail that had caught her attention. Now that they had reached the end of their time in the rainy bog of stunted growth and angry amphibians, she was almost a little sad.


    Almost.


    She had transferred many of the interesting plants she had befriended to a swampy section of her Trial Space, so she felt the journey hadn¡¯t been a complete waste. Now that she had a better handle on the role rare ingredients played in Alchemy and thus¡­ everything, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if any of them might be part of, say, a hovercar, or medbugs, or even some completely mundane item that she took completely for granted but was actually a concoction whipped together Inside and somehow extruded Outside in the form of a seat cushion or something.


    She almost needed to take a mental breath after thinking that.


    The descent to the Boiling Plains was not difficult, not after the sheer walls and horrible drops in the Labyrinth. The rough cliffs provided many resting points, and even Jessila seemed comfortable as they moved down the weathered stone, though the mists and ever dripping sky conspired to make some areas treacherous. Sulfurous fumes rose to greet them as they passed the halfway point, the smell thickening as they went until it became a tangible presence gripping the backs of their throats. Lilijoy began to get notices of diminished Vitality, though it never reached a point where she felt endangered. Still, the fresh air Skria conjured as they reached the rock-fall slope at the bottom of the escarpment was a welcome relief.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing it gets more difficult from here,¡± Lilijoy said, as they surveyed the lands on either side of the river. ¡°Should I try to bring a boat over now?¡±


    From their vantage point, she could see large areas of bubbling mud, and several of the smoking rock chimneys, interspersed with fields of scraggly grass and scrubby brush. It didn¡¯t look that bad, but she had already heard from Anda, who was on the opposite side of the large, geologically active area, that the Boiling Plains were extremely treacherous, with thin crusts of earth that would give way without warning and drop travelers into boiling acidic pools. Her Earthen Sense would be indispensable, should they eventually need to go by foot, but drifting down the foaming waters of the Southfall River, waters that already swirled with greens and yellows as they passed from the great cloud of spray at the base of the falls, just seemed like an altogether better idea.


    The others quickly agreed, so after they made their way down the loose, wet rock to the river¡¯s edge, she dropped into her Trial Space to find the boat she had previously selected. The Trial Space had no large lakes, rivers or ocean bays, though it abounded in springs, streams and ponds. As far as Lilijoy could tell, it wrapped around itself, curving through one or more otherwise imperceptible dimensions of space so that while there was no edge or defined boundary, it was possible to circumnavigate without ever changing direction.


    What made her suspect that several extra-dimensional curves were involved was that it was difficult to predict where any particular straight line path would end up. She had spent the better part of a day once, zooming her perspective across the landscape, and even with her system¡¯s assistance, her best map of the place was something along the lines of a hypersphere crossed with a Klein bottle, though she couldn¡¯t yet rule out a random element. She planned at some point to bring a powerful telescope in and solve the issue once and for all.


    Bringing her thoughts back to the issue at hand, she swooped her viewpoint down to a rowboat resting on the bank of one of the larger ponds near the human town. She had never seen it used or otherwise occupied, and she guessed it might be part of some trial-like challenge or puzzle she could have come across, had her decisions been vastly different. Her diamond energy cooperated nicely, and she pulled it onto the river¡¯s shore.


    It wasn¡¯t long before they were drifting with the river¡¯s gentle current, praying it would stay that way. The rowboat wallowed, creaked and slewed, all things no reasonable person would wish for in a river-going craft. That there were no leaks was a relief, especially since the river water was foul, hot and caustic, as the occasional splash was happy to demonstrate. All around, the waters heaped and swelled in fat ripples from bubbling vents below.


    In the end, it wasn¡¯t the rowboat that caused the problem as much as the river¡¯s inhabitants. Soaring outlines in the sky above, of what, none of them could tell, kept Skria close to the boat at all times, though she would periodically glide up just high enough to check the water ahead for hazards. It was on the return from one of these jaunts that she called down.


    ¡°Hey, can you see the water around the boat? It¡¯s acting strange.¡±


    Strange could only be a relative term. Turbid swirls of brown and yellow made any hope of seeing a bottom faint. For all Lilijoy knew, the river could be two feet deep, or two hundred.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± she called up.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ gathering? And it looks darker all around you.¡±


    Lilijoy had noticed clear patches here and there ahead of them. She assumed it had something to do with the upwelling springs, but now that she thought about it, they had never floated over such a patch. Now she wondered if they had been bringing their own darkness along with them.


    This can¡¯t be good. What could it be?


    She ran through possibilities, even as she studied the waters around the prow for any signs of overt misbehavior. To her eyes, it was just muddy water, though now that she thought about it, the streaks of green and yellow did have a certain robust consistency. To her mana sight, the situation was significantly more worrisome though, and she kicked herself for not using it sooner. The green and yellow streaks had a different presence than their surroundings, a substantially higher concentration of fire mana, along with another type she wasn¡¯t entirely sure about.


    Muttering to herself about developing sensory filters to maintain her mana sight at all times without constant distraction, she wedged her feet under her seat. Feeling exposed, and wishing she had something like a mirror on a stick, she gingerly leaned over the side of the rowboat, until she could look down the flared hull to the waterline.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Oh dear. I bet I know what type of mana the yellow stuff is concentrating.


    ¡°I think we¡¯d better start heading to shore,¡± she relayed to Jess. ¡°I think the river is digesting our boat.¡±


    The hull of the boat was steaming, or smoking, maybe both, and was pitted and blackened. Since the entire environment was one of caustic vapors and smells, none of them had noticed.


    Jess hadn¡¯t put oar to water since the first seconds of their trip down river, as the boat had been to content to wallow placidly with the current once it had been moved to the center. The moment she engaged the oars, Lilijoy could tell something wasn¡¯t right. Jessila was clearly struggling to move them through the water, and when it came time to lift them out for the next stroke, one of the oars snapped off in her hand.


    ¡°Oops,¡± she said.


    Lilijoy could see that the water, or rather something in the water, had a hold of the remaining oar and was engaged in an active tug of war over its possession. When Jess managed to pull it toward herself and pull the oar from the water, an elastic mucous could be seen connecting it to the water. She used Scan for all she was worth.


    Juvenile Slime: Level 8


    H.P. 36


    Primary Attack: Acid 1-3/sec (ignores INV)


    Damage Abatement: 30-50


    Disposition: Social


    Could be worse, I suppose, she thought. But how can a slime be social? Is it friendly? Maybe it just wants to eat the oar.


    This was one creature she might have some difficulty using Two Minds One Self with. While touch wasn¡¯t strictly necessary, it would be extremely hard to avoid once she was close enough to initiate the ability. Plus, she could easily imagine falling in the water in the process.


    ¡°Skria!¡± she yelled. ¡°Try to blow us to the shore!¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± her friend called back. Jessila was still fighting over the oar, which was rapidly disintegrating anyway. As the wind picked up and began to push on the side of the craft, she finally pulled the smoking remains, little more than a stick, from the river¡¯s grasp.


    Lilijoy used the time to run through every scenario she could imagine. The river was broad, so even if Jess threw her, carrying a rope, she didn¡¯t think she would make the shore. They had no way to attack the slime, and even if they could, it seemed likely there were many more than the one she had seen.


    That¡¯s probably what ¡®social¡¯ meant. There¡¯s probably a regular slime party going on in the water. I wonder what the collective noun for slimes is? A squish of slimes? A slurry?


    As usual, the great speed of her thoughts made time stand nearly still around her. Jessila sat staring at the ruined oar with an alarmed expression, while Skria crept through the sky, her mouth and hands in mid spell. The wind was still picking up, and Lilijoy took a moment to marvel at the sensation of subjectively slow air pressing on her, even as she began to feel the rowboat begin to rise on the windward side.


    Oh no, she thought. Maybe it¡¯s just rocking?


    It was not just rocking. Ever so slowly, she felt the rowboat tip beneath her, then faster and faster until it was an inevitability. Jessila barely had time to begin to shift her weight against the motion, barely even had time to change her expression, before the sky was eclipsed by the flipping boat and the steaming water claimed them.


    ***


    ¡°This¡­ this is paradise,¡± said Mr. Sennit.


    Anda looked at him skeptically.


    ¡°For a weaver,¡± the older man hastened to explain. He gestured to the tall tufts of flowering grass on all sides, some towering many feet over their heads. He shook his head. ¡°Or maybe just for me. Look, over there,¡± he gestured. ¡°Blood iron grass. Over there a stand of broad-blade fireweed.¡±


    Anda shrugged and pointed. ¡°Level thirty-two saw-back lion.¡± He pointed back at Mr. Sennit. ¡°Lunch.¡±


    Mr. Sennit squinted, trying to make out the predator in question. ¡°I never did figure out that Stealth stuff,¡± he finally admitted. ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡±


    ¡°Your point is well taken though,¡± Anda said. ¡°A crafter is only as good as their materials, and this corner of the Great Grass Sea abounds. We should grab as much as we can, because it won¡¯t be long before things get considerably more hostile.¡±


    ¡°Boiling Plains that bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Worst part of the Garden in my opinion. But it¡¯s the inhabitants I¡¯m most worried about. They were pushed off this land by my former clan, a nation of many thousands of the toughest creatures in the Garden, forced to live in brutal conditions for generations. I doubt they¡¯re going to be happy to see Outsiders.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± said Mr. Sennit. ¡°What¡¯s one more death, anyway? Besides, you¡¯ve got an in, Mr. Half-Orc.¡±


    Anda barked out a laugh. ¡°That just means they¡¯ll kill me slowly, out of respect for my better half.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Never heard that phrase used that way before," Mr. Sennit said. " Tell you what, how about you take care of the lions, and see if this old weaver can¡¯t put us in a better position to meet the in-laws over the next day or so.¡±


    ***


    None more white?


    Lilijoy could have sworn her thoughts echoed.


    So this is death. First time I die in in the Garden. Not dragons, or dhrowgos or, heck, even wolves. No, it had to be slimes.


    Granted it was hundreds, possibly even thousands of them. Swimming had been impossible when they were dumped into the river, due to the fact that the slimes occupied far more of the river¡¯s volume than actual water, at least in their general area. She wondered if she had broken a record for quickest death by slime.


    To add¡­ something to injury, hanging in her internal awareness, framed by white, white and more white, was a notification. Two actually.


    <hr>


    Level Up! 2601 EXP Reached: Level 26 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    You have died!


    Death Counter: 2


    <hr>


    She would have already dismissed them, but they broke the monotony somewhat. Even the sensory signals from her virtual body were repressed, not entirely, but enough to make her feel abstract, ghost-like. They called it ¡®riding the white¡¯, and now she knew why.


    For her, of course, it wasn¡¯t any kind of issue at all. She was still on the Outside, perhaps an hour away from Guayaquil. In some ways, the endless parade of fields wasn¡¯t much better than endless white nothing, especially as it was night there, though even an hour out from the city there were early signs of something that might reasonably be called traffic. They were passing carts and conveyances of all shapes and sizes with some regularity, many of them human powered, though Lilijoy saw a few oxen, and even a dog team. In some, she could see produce, crops destined for the luxury markets she assumed, rather than the raw biomass grown for conversion to food bars. That would be the only reason she could imagine for the farmers to undertake what for them would be a grueling trip of a day or more.


    I guess I should poke around, since I don¡¯t plan on being here all that often, she decided. Let''s see if I can break something in here.


    With a thought, she took hold of the sensory data being fed to her from the Inside and began to poke at it. It was a very minimal stream, which seemed obvious enough given the vast monotony. There were two components; the underlying data that gave her a vague sense of embodiment and the visual feed. The embodiment data was reasonably complex, while the visual was as simple as she had imagined it would be.


    She was intrigued to notice a feed of what she could only call Charm data. Her system automatically blocked such things at this point, but it was clearly meant to soothe and stimulate a feeling of wellness, as well as gently interfere with recent memory formation. It wasn¡¯t much, just enough to take the edge off of any trauma suffered during the death experience, she estimated. Still, it was more than she had expected, given the stories she had heard of the horrors of dying on the Inside.


    Guess Guardian doesn¡¯t want its fruit bruised, she thought.


    After examining the inputs, she turned her attention to the signals her system was sending back out. This was, to her, the most interesting aspect, and the simplicity of riding the white gave her an excellent opportunity to study which kinds of information her system was returning to Guardian¡¯s servers. The kinesthetic and proprioceptive data was most prominent. It was how the Inside knew what she was doing with her body, and she was fascinated by the way in which she could send out a signal for her arm to move and then receive the sensations of moving her arm.


    Most of the heavy lifting was still occurring in her brain, and it occurred to her that this was why Outsiders were, by and large, restricted to a close representation of their Outside body as their Inside avatar. The more differences there were, the more data would need to be exchanged in both directions, and the more processing would need to be handled externally. As it was, the Inside could send relatively small amounts of data that stimulated the deeply ingrained paths of her brain responsible for the perception of her body presence and movement.


    I wonder what would happen if I sent out signals for body movements that shouldn¡¯t be possible? She chuckled to herself. What could possibly go wrong?


    The abstract quality of her body while in the death space made the experiment easier than it would have been if she were fully embodied. There was no visual feedback for her movements to throw her off, and her sense of touch was numbed and distant, reduced to degrees of pressure like an ancient haptic feedback rig.


    She started simply, pointing an index finger, and then slowly feeding out data to make it bend back, away from her palm. There was a barely noticeable lag, as the Inside tried to understand how to interpret the anomalous data she was sending it. Then a flood of pain signal came rushing downstream. This wasn¡¯t an issue for her, though she did wonder if there would also be damage points assigned, were she not already ¡®dead¡¯.


    A split second after the pain came another signal, on the notifications channel.


    <hr>


    Skill Discovered: Upgraded(2) Apprentice(3) of Body Manipulation (VP = 6)


    <hr>


    Now that¡¯s interesting. It must have found the closest fit for the signals it received.


    She wasn¡¯t about to stop there though. She extended her arm outward as far as it could go, then sent it further still, imagining her bones and muscles elongating, feeding the Inside data to indicate her hand was a foot farther away than she would be able to reach in reality. Again, there was a slight hesitation, and then pain she didn¡¯t feel, followed by a notification.


    <hr>


    Skill Raised: Enhanced(5) Apprentice(3) of Body Manipulation (VP = 15)


    <hr>


    I guess my magic contortionism just got more magical. This is getting good!


    Already, she could feel her diamond mana spinning faster and faster, sucking in her excitement and spinning it through her Soul Vortex. That gave her another idea. Unfortunately, her access to her Trial Space seemed to be blocked at the moment, but she could still try the concept.


    She reached out with her hand again, sending it even farther from her body, two feet past her normal reach, then three, then five, like one of the stretchy superheroes from the ancient comic books. There was a mild resistance, she noted, to altering her own body image, as if she had her own internal accounting of plausibility to work through. She put that to the side as best she could and reached farther still, finally reaching the limits of her own suspension of disbelief when her arm would have been about ten feet long. A few new skill notifications popped up along the way, as the Inside was forced to sort what she was doing into its own terms.


    But that wasn¡¯t what she was after. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, wiggling her invisible fingers, feeling the presence of her hand so far from her body. Then she pulled, tapping into the same sensation she felt when moving objects from her Trial Space, imagined her hand staying in place and the rest of her snapping to join it.


    There was a sense of something almost happening, as if the Inside was rendering a verdict on whether it had to play by her rules, but in the end, perhaps because there was no external frame of reference, all that occurred was a return to her normal proportions.


    She was not deterred. She stretched out her arm once more, and then began to remove all the signals from the rest of her body from the outgoing data, leaving only her hand. Then she pulled once more, snapping her point of view to her hand and restoring her body data to the stream.


    There was a sharp crackling sensation from the Inside data stream, as it tried to make sense of her actions, followed by a pause of almost a tenth of a second, a veritable eternity. Then the notification came.


    <hr>


    Unique Ability Created: Body Warp


    Wherever any part of you goes, the rest of you can follow.


    Limits Instituted:


    Body structure must be contiguous and within the parameters of Body Manipulation Skill


    <hr>


    This was immediately followed by another notification.


    <hr>


    New Achievement: Reality Bender II


    The Inside will never be the same.


    You have invented a unique ability: Body Warp


    +20 Additional Direct Free Points


    <hr>


    Yes! I should die more often!

 Book 3: Chapter 31: Bonds

    It wasn¡¯t long after receiving the new Body Warp ability and Reality Bender II achievement that Lilijoy was given her respawn options. They had all reset their default respawn points when they emerged from the Labyrinth, and then been careful to update them along their journey, so she knew she would have at least one decent option, back near the top of the waterfall.


    The other option was to respawn in the nearest available neutral territory, hopefully close to the others by the riverbank. She debated internally for a moment, as neutral did not necessarily imply safe, but in the end she decided the benefits far outweighed any potential difficulties. She also noted that there was no mandate or timer for respawning; if she wanted, she could hang out in the white nothing indefinitely. She couldn¡¯t imagine that being a particularly popular option, but it was nice to know she might have some control of the timing in the future.


    Before returning, she added the free points she had received for reaching level twenty-six into Invulnerability, bringing it to fifty-one, and her Earth Affinity, bringing it to sixty-seven, and then raised her Scan and Earthen Sense abilities. If they were going to be trekking across the Boiling Plains, both would come in handy. Her new Body Manipulation skill had jumped all the way to Illustrious Journeyman, making it her highest skill overall. She had long since decided to embrace her¡­ special... status on the Inside, but it still felt a bit like cheating. That did little to dampen her excitement about exploring her new powers though.


    She sent herself back.


    She was immediately assaulted by harsh fumes and heat as she got her bearings. She was standing on a large slab of solid stone that thrust forth from an area of lazily roiling black mud. To her relief, she could see the river stretching into the distance in front of her, and behind her, the escarpment and falls were just visible in the distance. At its closest, she estimated the river might be a kilometer away to her right.


    Maybe I should have figured out a way to fly instead of becoming a magic contortionist.


    It occurred to her that she might be able to manipulate her body into a configuration suitable for gliding, or at least non-rapid falling, but that wasn¡¯t going to do her any good at the moment. Instead, she sent her Earthen Sense through the immediate area, checking any patches of crusty earth beyond the mud that looked like they might bear her weight, and found one about twenty feet away in the wrong direction.


    Never easy, is it?


    If she had room to gain enough momentum from Flash, the leap wouldn¡¯t be bad at all, though the stopping might be an issue. It was a moot point, as her slab would give her at most ten feet to run. Faced with this impasse, she decided her best course of action would be to explore her new abilities, to see what might be possible.


    First she decided to replicate what she had already done in the white space and began to extend her arm. Now that she could see, it was a mildly appalling sight, and sound too, for that matter. There were terrible rending and cracking noises as she stretched out past her natural reach and her joints and ligaments dislocated, stretched and popped. Pain signals began to flood her system, and she received a damage notification for thirteen health.


    On top of that, the muscles of her arm didn¡¯t know how to support the outstretched weight, or perhaps weren¡¯t able to apply sufficient leverage with her joints dislocated, and within a second the newly lengthened arm had flopped to her side, falling to rest just next to her foot. Evidently gravity had its own opinion about her new skill, now that it had been invited to the party.


    Suddenly, she didn¡¯t feel like a cheater any more.


    ¡°Well, that sucks,¡± she announced to the lethargic mud. I might need to shelve those visions of whipping around like a teleporting Elastigirl for the time being.


    She recovered her mood quickly, when she realized she hadn¡¯t expended any mana in her attempt. With most skills, the Magi portion was what filled in the impossibles, and now she was sure that Body Manipulation wasn¡¯t any different. It would, she was sure, allow her to support the weight of her arm without any plausible structural or muscular support, and possibly protect her from injury as well.


    She looked down at her limp noodle of an arm. Hopefully it also helps me get back to normal, she thought.


    Not sure how to engage the Magi portion of her new skill after the fact, she decided to see if she could simply heal her way back to a functioning arm before engaging in more experiments. It turned out she could, though it took a little help from her other arm to reposition everything properly.


    Good thing I didn¡¯t extend my neck, was all she could think.


    Her internet memory was of some help as she set about consolidating her foundation in the Natural portion of the skill, and she played around with various postures and poses for almost an hour. It was during this portion of her training that Skria found her.


    ¡°Umm,¡± she heard. ¡°Are you trying to lick your butt? I didn¡¯t think humans did that.¡±


    Embarrassment was not one of Lilijoy¡¯s primary emotions.


    ¡°Oh! I could almost do that, couldn¡¯t I?¡± she replied with a somewhat muffled voice.


    She unfurled her body, to see Skria hovering in the air about thirty feet away. She had been aware of the girl¡¯s approach for a little while, but saw no need to stop her practice. It was very nice to see her though.


    ¡°Has Jess respawned yet?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    Skria dipped in the air a little. ¡°She made it to shore, but she would have rather respawned I think. Please hurry.¡±


    ¡°Do you think you can blow me to that patch over there? I¡¯m kind of stuck. I was thinking about trying to run across the mud in Flash, or maybe pulling out another tree trunk.¡±


    She winced. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you would ask me. I¡¯m so, so sorry I got you killed. I never thought the boat would do that.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°I already killed you once, back in Averdale. I don¡¯t blame you at all, but even if I did, we¡¯d be even.¡±


    Skria brightened, bobbing in the air as if buoyed by Lilijoy''s words. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of that! Okay. I just hope this goes better than last time.¡±


    It did, for definitions of better that included not dying. Lilijoy ran and leapt as high as she could, and Skria¡¯s gust caught her nicely. As she had feared, she did overrun the target a bit, and was rewarded with parboiled feet when she broke through the thin crust of minerals just beyond her target and plunged calf deep into acidic, boiling water. Fortunately, she was able to fall back onto solid ground, and the healing didn¡¯t take long at all.


    From there, she was able to use her Earthen Sense again to find another solid patch she could hop to, and then another. With only one small problem.


    ¡°Do you know you¡¯re going the wrong direction?¡± Skria asked.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°There aren¡¯t many options, and the ground is just so messy; it¡¯s wet and it vibrates differently in different places, never mind the way the steam vents mess me up. I¡¯m just hoping I can loop back eventually.¡±


    ¡°Do you still have a glider in there?¡± Skria asked. ¡°Maybe...¡± she stopped when she saw Lilijoy shaking her head. ¡°Okay then. I¡¯m going to go check on Jess,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    ¡°You know where to find me,¡± Lilijoy replied. As Skria turned to leave, she remembered something. ¡°I still have a healing potion,¡± she called up.


    ¡°Oh good!¡± Skria yelled back, already swooping in closer. ¡°We used all of ours to keep up with the ongoing effects of the acid. Hold it up and I¡¯ll grab it.¡±


    Soon, Skria had vanished over the rise that marked the edge of the river, vial in hand, and Lilijoy turned to her Earthen Sense again. It really was quite tricky to find the little islands of safety, though she was beginning to get the hang of reading the subterranean landscape. She was grateful she had upgraded the ability, and only wished she could do it again.


    I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll level again soon, she thought. That¡¯s the first thing I¡¯ll do.


    Her suspicion was that the higher grades of Earthen Sense made it easier to see in mixed environments, favoring quality over expanding her range.


    Soon she had settled into a routine of alternate sensing and hopping, with the odd step or leap thrown in for good measure. Once, a large shadow passed over her, and she was able to get a good look at one of the flying creatures they had noticed circling high above before the rowboat overturned, an enormous vulture-looking thing with ridiculously long talons. She was too busy crouching down and activating Stealth to Scan, but she was certain it could eat her in one bite, maybe two. After that she kept her Stealth up, and hoped that Skria wouldn¡¯t risk coming back.


    Her path led her relentlessly away from where she wanted to go and by the time a half hour had passed, she was several hundred meters farther away from her friends. Even so, the aesthetic qualities of her surroundings began to grow on her. Steam and yellow gasses mingled and flowed in varying concentrations over the crusted earth. Bursts of muted orange and yellow marked patches of bacterial life, or the Inside equivalent, along with pale greens from tenacious lichens that had found places to thrive in the harsh environment.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    There were even areas with low-slung plants and creeping vines, more dead than alive. She had noticed early on that the plants were a possible indicator of solid ground. It was on one such patch that she found a broadly spreading flower, a red star with five yellow-tipped petals. Scan and Herbalism revealed nothing of its name or nature, and it felt like an unreasonable risk to bond with the plant, so with regret, she let it be, though she was able to find a seed pod hiding in the withered remains of a previous bloom a bit later, which she was quick to pocket.


    On the Outside, their journey to Guayaquil was nearly complete. The city began as an indistinct glowing blob on the horizon, but as they grew closer it began to resolve, first taking on a distinctly elevated characteristic, a series of glowing curves that almost hovered above the sparse lights of the homes and villages scattered across the intervening plains. Before long, the city positively loomed, or perhaps soared, arch stacked upon glowing arch, a towering crown upon the landscape. Lilijoy tried, and failed, to get a sense of the true size of the edifice.


    She turned to Anda. ¡°¡±What¡­ how?¡± and finished her elocution with, ¡°Big?¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t want to explain before. There¡¯s just no way to capture it. Welcome to Guayaquil, City of Arches, Crown of the Western Hemisphere, and one of the greatest displays of power and hubris since the Rise. There are comparable cities in Asia of course, but none with its unique approach to architecture.¡±


    ¡°How big is it? Is that all one building?¡±


    ¡°I suppose you could call it an Arcology? Anyway, however big you¡¯re guessing right now, it¡¯s bigger than that. Four levels with four arches each; that lowest tier is over four hundred meters tall. The whole thing is just around a kilometer in height. About two hundred thousand people live within its walls, and several times that below. That¡¯s more than a tenth of the continent¡¯s population right there.¡±


    ¡°How did they build it? When? Why?¡± The last word was tinged with exasperation. Despite the awe she felt at the sheer scope of the achievement in front of them, she couldn¡¯t help but feel it was excessive, a grand monument to the small minority who held all the power.


    ¡°When we get closer, you¡¯ll be able to see construction is still in progress,¡± Anda replied, so I guess ¡®when¡¯ is now, though they started decades ago. The how is, as you might expect by now, heavy reliance on the Inside. This project, I would guess, is one of the reasons metal is in such short supply in the Garden these days. As far as raw materials Outside, it probably accounts for the output of a good number of factory-mines too, those on this continent at least.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s mind boggled a bit. ¡°Do people do anything for themselves any more?¡±


    Anda sat back. ¡°You know, I¡¯m sure there are many alchemists, architects and construction managers who would take great offense at that question.¡± He shook his head, ¡°As far as the Corp goes, you¡¯re right though. Just don¡¯t forget that the vast majority of living humans still toil in obscurity.¡± He gestured to the ramshackle buildings they were passing by. ¡°These folks put all this together, or reclaimed it anyway, with their own sweat, probably while paying off debts for their systems by harvesting biomass, or some such.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to wrap my head around. There¡¯s no population problem any more, no starvation, hardly any disease. Shouldn¡¯t things be¡­ better?¡±


    ¡°Some would say that humans naturally self-assemble into a pyramid, given a stable enough environment,¡± he replied. ¡°Individual molecules may move within the structure, and sufficient energy may disrupt the structure for a time. Once things begin to cool though, the same crystal shape condenses out of the chaos.¡±


    Lilijoy took a moment to measure the idea against her internet memory. Theories of human society and government were an ugly morass from which it was impossible to take any conclusions, as far as she could tell. The concept of extrapolating the larger structure of society from the bonding tendencies of the individual in the same way the shape of a crystal was determined by the chemical bonds it would form with its neighbors sounded reasonable, but modeling it was beyond the scope of her current capabilities.


    ¡°So simple?¡± was all she said in reply.


    Anda shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not my idea, but it fits. Renaissance bases many of their activities on it.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ they want to modify the bonding properties at an individual level to change the globally emergent structure,¡± she stated.


    Anda looked startled. ¡°I¡¯m still amazed when you say things like that,¡± he said. ¡°It seems only yesterday you were speaking like some kind of caricatured cave-dweller. But yes, that¡¯s part of it.¡±


    It always made Lilijoy feel good to impress Anda.


    ¡°Not to change the subject,¡± he continued, ¡°but are you doing something Inside while we¡¯re talking right now?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Trying not to boil my feet in acid again, mainly.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that like? Not the foot boiling. Being in two places at once. I can¡¯t stop wondering if I¡¯ll be able to do that, if I even want to be able to do that.¡±


    Lilijoy shrugged. ¡°I got here in steps, so it seems pretty natural. It¡¯s kind of like playing the piano; two hands doing different things. I still have to focus on one or the other if something tricky is going on.¡±


    ¡°And when both hands are challenged?¡±


    ¡°I can split into two separate consciousnesses if I need to. That¡¯s how I started, before I figured out that most of the time it was more... efficient?¡­ more satisfying anyway, to keep both Inside and Outside present in one awareness. The fact is, I can think very, very fast, so it¡¯s usually not any problem at all.¡±


    ¡°There have been times, lately,¡± Anda said, ¡°that I can feel the world around me moving slower. It¡¯s weird, because I can¡¯t make my body move faster, but I do have more time to observe what¡¯s going on around me.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your Flash like on the Inside?¡±


    ¡°Twenty. There¡¯s no point¡­ oh.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    She let him reevaluate some previous assumptions, and turned her focus to the Inside, where one of the huge vulture-things had plunged out of the sky, landing just out of sight behind a raised ridge of stone she had been aiming for. Evidently, the ground fell away beyond, because she could just make out the top of its head, bobbing and lunging at something too short for her to see.


    It only took a couple more leaps for her feet to find where the solid area began, and then she moved as quickly as Stealth would allow, motivated more by curiosity than any sense of real urgency. She wanted to learn what the giant birds ate, especially since it seemed like she would be sharing the environment with both predator and prey for some time to come.


    It took her several minutes to get to a point where she could see over the ridge into the cratered area beyond. All the while, she heard the sounds of combat, the wheezing croaks of the vulture mixed with inarticulate cries and yelps that sounded almost human. She wasn¡¯t surprised when the prey turned out to be a young orc boy, his body covered with burns and streaming blood.


    <hr>


    Immature Orc (Urkaen): Level 6


    H.P. 7/63


    Primary Attack: Bite 1-38


    Damage Abatement: 15-19


    Disposition: Resolute


    <hr>


    The Scan happened almost without conscious intent, and at a farther range than she was expecting. I guess raising it to the fourth tier was a good idea, she thought, turning her attention to the predator. It perched on its long talons, extending them into the steaming earth like sharpened stilts, only using its fierce beak to lunge and attack.


    <hr>


    Giant Condor, Boiling Plains Variant: Level 29


    H.P. 130/201


    Primary Attack: Bite 1-94


    Damage Abatement: 10-15


    Resists: Acid, Fire


    <hr>


    Not that tough, but a nasty bite. That orc kid must be one hell of a fighter to have done so much damage.


    Even as she thought that, the boy dodged a lunging attack and hoisted himself onto the creature¡¯s head, grabbing the copious folds of loose skin that hung off the condor¡¯s face. She saw him open his jaws far wider than any human could, thanks to his broad, protruding muzzle, and latch on to the bony ridge around the condor¡¯s eye socket. Even from where she stood, she could hear the crack of bone fragmenting underneath his powerful jaws.


    I guess his bite¡¯s not too shabby either. They grow them tough out here, that¡¯s for sure.


    The bird went berserk, shaking its head, whipping the boy back and forth until he flew off in a spray of blood, a large hunk of condor still between his jaws. Lilijoy winced, waiting for him to break through the mineral crust and most likely perish, even as she pulled out her sling to assist.


    Fortunately, the boy hit the ground and rolled without breaking into the boiling liquid, before arresting himself, spread-eagled. She could see his lungs heaving for breath as he lay. His health was now at four.


    ¡°Hey, ugly bird!¡± Lilijoy called out as she let a stone fly. Without a critical hit, she knew she wouldn¡¯t do much damage, but she was mostly aiming to distract anyway. The stone hit the bird¡¯s beak with a sharp clack and it turned its head to assess this new wrinkle in its meal plans.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! I¡¯m talking to you!¡± she called, whipping another stone at its damaged eye. The stone hit where she was aiming, but bounced off the bird¡¯s eyeball with another sharp crack.


    Does this thing have crystal eyes or something?


    Even so, her distraction had worked. Somehow, the boy had gathered himself, and suddenly the bird reared back, a young orc firmly attached to its long throat. It whipped its head again, but he clung fiercely with jaws and clawed fingers, and the bird was not able to apply the same force to dislodge him from its throat. In desperation it spread its wings and leapt into the air, carrying the boy with it.


    Lilijoy could only watch as they spiraled up, higher and higher, the giant condor¡¯s wings thunderously beating. Within seconds the two creatures were far overhead, the boy¡¯s small figure lost within the condor¡¯s silhouette against the piercingly blue sky.


    For a moment, all was still, and Lilijoy felt a wave of sorrow that she had been unable to rescue him. Then the distant form of bird and boy stopped receding and began an ugly, uncontrolled return. With mighty wings thrashing in spasms, the giant condor plunged to earth, landing not far from where it had taken off, breaking past the thin crust and sending a spray of steam and boiling liquid in every direction.


    Lilijoy ducked, but just before the final impact, she had caught a glimpse of the orc boy, his eyes closed, his face peaceful, his jaws still firmly clamped on the giant bird¡¯s windpipe.


    When the spray had passed, she observed the giant body, somehow even larger with feathers and wings splayed over the steaming pool it had opened. She knew there was absolutely no chance the boy had lived, falling from that height into boiling acid with almost no health in the first place.


    Oh well. That might have been a nice in with the local tribe, she thought. The boy had been a Tier Seven, of that she was quite sure, untempered and thus forever gone. No name had been displayed to her Scan, only his species, and that lack of identity within the system was a sure indicator. She felt regret that she might never know the name he was called in his tribe, might never be able to relay the tale of his valiant passing to his family. Even though the Tier Sevens didn¡¯t have complete self-awareness, Lilijoy was quite convinced that the more sophisticated of them had emotions and consciousness of a rudimentary nature. It was also entirely possible that his parents or some other relatives were Tier Six subsets, and would feel his loss acutely.


    Or maybe I¡¯m projecting, she thought. But he took down a level twenty-nine condor by himself. I¡¯m sure that would mean something.


    She was making her way to the giant pool of bubbling flesh and feathers, whether out of curiosity or some need for further resolution she wasn¡¯t entirely sure, when she heard a cry of unbridled exaltation, a ululating cackle of a call that sent shivers down her spine. She froze for an instant, tracking its location, making herself ready for whatever new threat had manifested, some other predator drawn by the fracas, no doubt.


    It¡¯s close. Too close, she thought as she turned to face the threat, only to gape in amazement.


    <hr>


    Naduk the Vanquisher, Orc (Urkaen)


    Level 7


    Tempered


    Vanquisher


    H.P. 64


    Primary Attack: Bite 1-39


    Damage Abatement: 17-21


    Disposition: Jubilant


    <hr>


    There he stood, the orc boy, restored in body, his arms raised skyward. His expression was twisted, caught between what she thought might be joy and shock as he took in her presence.


    ¡°I found my soul,¡± he proclaimed.

 Book 3: Chapter 32: Strand

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you decided to stay,¡± said the spider.


    Frozen Lowly didn¡¯t reply. Ever since the talkative food entity had bitten him, he hadn¡¯t been able to make his mouth move. It didn¡¯t help that his body was wrapped tightly in the strange sinew the entity was able to squeeze from its round body.


    ¡°But there¡¯s still something I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Lowly knew what the entity would say next. The same words it had said many times before.


    ¡°How can you be so dry?¡±


    It said that every time it tried to take his essence. The answer was no mystery to Lowly, of course. Controlling one¡¯s essence was an ability all his tribe possessed, and though he was more accustomed to using it to send his essence out, it was not difficult to keep it in, safely tucked away from wherever the food entity punctured him.


    He was still struggling with one of the two substances the entity had added to his essence though, the one that froze his limbs and made him numb. It was a familiar sensation, to an extent, similar to when Horrible encased Lowly in the solid essence of his people to enforce Rule. The other substance had burned and melted the tissues he held for the tribe, and something deep within had allowed him to destroy it before it did much harm. The legacy of the Old Ones could not be tampered with, and they supplied him with the strength.


    Unfortunately, it seemed like the Old Ones didn¡¯t care whether Lowly was frozen.


    It¡¯s time to move, the words in his head spoke again. There are no Rules here.


    And then new words. There is no tribe here. Only¡­


    Only what?


    He had no word for the concept the words in his head were seeking. It seemed like the type of thing Strange would know. He had¡­ only. Just that.


    Only.


    The word lived in his head now, joining the others. Lowly was afraid the words might multiply, might expand until there was no room, might threaten the legacy he carried, the container, the bait.


    ¡°How many stones are there?¡± he remembered Strange asking, using the wrong sounds as they seemed to do. ¡°How many bodies in Wicked?¡±


    Many. Bodies. Only.


    The words moved in his head. Wicked had been as many as the Old Ones of his hands. Wicked was made of bodies. The wall bones had been three, and then Lowly had held part of them in his mouth. He understood the numbers, but their deeper meaning was elusive. The way these concepts beckoned and hinted at something beyond his grasp would have made him curl up, had he been able to move his body.


    What was left when the tribe was gone?


    Only...


    ***


    The orc boy, Naduk, looked at Lilijoy, the elation slowly fading from his face, only to be replaced by surprise, and then¡­


    Was that shame?


    ¡­ he practically dove to the ground, heedless of the ominous cracking noises from the substantial layer of mineral crust that made this area of the Boiling Plains just a little safer than what Lilijoy had been navigating for the past hour. Lilijoy nearly jumped back herself, as people suddenly diving to earth was associated in her mind with explosions and flying things.


    ¡°Forgive, forgive,¡± the boy was mumbling under his breath. Lilijoy could see a flush of color spreading across his oddly spotted skin.


    ¡°Ummm. Hi?¡± she said.


    ¡°Forgive this impertinent male,¡± the Naduk the Vanquisher said in reply.


    Riiiight. This will all make sense in a moment, I¡¯m sure.


    ¡°I forgive you? And then, could you tell me what, exactly, I¡¯m forgiving you for?¡± She thought for a moment before adding, ¡°Oh, and congrats on the tempering!¡±


    His face pressed against the hot sulfurous rock, his body stilled for a moment. ¡°Forgive me for not recognizing you as female more quickly, for applying my gaze to your figure without permission.¡±


    Aaand the orcs are feminist. Because of course they are, she thought. Frankly I¡¯m kind of amazed he could even tell.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s easy enough. You¡¯re forgiven. I have to say, it¡¯s kind of understandable, seeing as how you just, I don¡¯t know, defeated an enemy almost five times your level, fell from the sky, died, and remodeled your entire consciousness, not necessarily in that order.¡±


    The boy remained pressed against the ground, so she continued. ¡°You can get up now and look at me if you want.¡±


    That also gave her a chance to get a good look at him. His face was broad and elongated, his fangs protruded up and down from his powerful muzzle. Rounded ears stuck out on either side of his head, and she could see them moving, swiveling independently. Broad spots covered his face as well, dark, almost red patches in a fuzzy chartreuse background. Standing, he was about five feet tall.


    It took her a moment, but then she snapped her fingers.


    ¡°Hyena, right? That¡¯s your totem animal?¡±


    He nodded, his eyes fixed upon hers. ¡°Urkaen. How may I serve you?¡±


    The intensity of his gaze and the earnestness in his voice made Lilijoy feel a bit flustered.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said.


    He waited.


    ¡°I guess I need to get to the river?¡± she produced after a moment.


    He looked oddly relieved, which only made her wonder what else she could have asked.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± he said.


    Follow him she did. Though the route was circuitous, and the travel full of stops and starts as Naduk evaluated the landscape for safe passage, they ended up back at the river in less than half the time it had taken Lilijoy to navigate away from it. Granted, they were a good distance downstream from her friends, but she figured that wouldn¡¯t be a huge problem.


    ¡°Beware the water,¡± Naduk told her as they began to make their way along the river¡¯s edge. ¡°It will try to eat you.¡±


    ¡°Where were you about two hours ago?¡± she asked playfully.


    ¡°Waiting for your arrival to fill the hole in my heart,¡± he replied. He said it quickly, as if it was something he had memorized long ago, his voice cracking in the process.


    Is an orc¡­ flirting with... me...badly?


    She wasn¡¯t sure which part of that thought was the strangest, so she shook it off and changed the subject.


    ¡°So my friends,¡± she started, ¡°they¡¯re girls too. Just so you know, they won¡¯t expect you to grovel or anything. And one of them is part orc!¡±


    He stopped cold and hissed, sucking air between his prominent teeth. ¡°I¡­¡± he began. An odd quiver ran through his body, and then he shook himself. ¡°That should bother me, but it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    Lilijoy was a little worried now, though. ¡°What part of it? Because I have another friend who¡¯s a half orc, and he-¡±


    ¡°Man is fine,¡± Naduk broke in. Then he realized he had interrupted her and flushed. For a moment, Lilijoy was afraid he was going to dive at the ground again.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, Naduk,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t have to treat me like the orc women.¡±


    He nodded, then shook his head. Then nodded some more. ¡°Matrons,¡± he said. ¡°But all women are respected. Except the Unjudged, like your friend. Or when the Matrons have ordered a crusade. Or when they are Outsiders.¡± He spat the last word, and Lilijoy decided she wouldn¡¯t bring her confusing status to the orc¡¯s attention.


    She wondered how the orcs had managed to end up in such a fierce matriarchy. Probably because the males kept running off and getting themselves killed, she guessed. She was looking forward to finding out, but first she needed to follow up on Jessila¡¯s situation.


    ¡°Male half-orcs are fine, but not female then.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°With my soul came a different understanding. Before, were I to encounter an Unjudged, I would feel great fear and disgust.¡±


    Lilijoy had many questions. ¡°And they¡¯re called Unjudged because?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s for the Matrons to know.¡±


    ¡°Do all orcs talk the way you do? So¡­ formally?¡±


    ¡°I am using high-speak out of respect for you. Men speak differently among themselves.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Fewer words. More direct.¡± He lowered his voice, and his tone became rough and guttural. ¡°Nadok kill giant bird. Find soul.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°That is what I will tell my fathers when I return.¡±


    ¡°Do you think they are worried about you? Do they know you are out here all alone?¡±


    He barked a short yip. ¡°I am dead to them. They have already mourned for me and all my brothers. Only those who find a soul may return, unless they wish to be stubs. So the Matrons decreed when we came to exile in this land.¡±


    Lilijoy rolled this around in her head for a bit. ¡°Stubs?¡±


    ¡°Servants. Their line has ended.¡±


    Harsh. Like the land. Lilijoy felt a certain horrified respect for what the Matrons were doing though. If she understood their strategy correctly, they were slowly building an army of immortal warriors, forcing all of their male children to temper or die. Probably helps with scarce resources too, she realized. Someday, the Maasai clan would be in for a rude awakening.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ***


    ¡°Your former clan is in for a rude awakening,¡± Lilijoy told Anda.


    They were in one of thousands of abandoned buildings at the outskirts of Guayaquil. Before the tribulations, it had been a sprawling city of millions. Now, most of the still substantial population was concentrated within and beneath the towering arches of the arcology, leaving over a hundred square miles of buildings abandoned to nature¡¯s tender mercies. Weather and frequent earthquakes had succeeded in converting the majority back to raw materials, but those structures that remained were the sturdiest.


    As far as Lilijoy could tell, this building had once been the headquarters of a construction company, so it made a certain amount of sense they would have built it to last. Her group was obviously not the first to use it over the decades, as it was filled with mostly broken furniture and trash. In the next room over Maria was softly singing to herself as she gathered dust and dirt into piles with a large push broom she had found. No one had asked her to do it, but it didn¡¯t look like anyone was going to stop her either.


    The others were on the roof, gawking at the enormity of the city-building. Since Lilijoy had been able to watch it on their approach, and Anda had seen it all before, they were taking the time to strategize.


    ¡°How so?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you know about what the orcs have been doing all this time...¡± She let the statement hang so he could jump in.


    ¡°Not much, honestly. I know what I knew before. According to my people, and most Outsiders for that matter, the orcs were a savage horde that would periodically overflow the Great Savannah, destroying everything in their path. Nandi said I would make a good orc and then laughed, which still makes me nervous when I think about it.¡±


    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s probably not exactly the truth. Not the whole truth anyway.¡±


    ¡°I assumed as much. Still, I¡¯m more than a little nervous, to be honest. I¡¯m still sitting on a little corner of the grasslands, ostensibly so Mr. Sennit can collect some materials and craft a few items for us, but I can¡¯t help wondering if I¡¯m just delaying the inevitable.¡±


    ¡°Are you allowed to tell me about your quest yet?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Not until I¡¯ve completed the first stage. So tell me everything you can, please.¡±


    She shared with him what she had learned from Naduk.


    ¡°Matriarchal, eh? That¡¯s interesting.¡± His eyes widened with realization. ¡°Nah,¡± he said to himself.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a thought. Being a half-orc and all, I¡¯ve picked up a thing or two. Half-orcs are actually pretty common among the Insiders. I¡¯d always assumed¡­ you know,¡± he struggled with his words for a moment as Lilijoy looked at him expectantly.


    ¡°That it wasn¡¯t¡­ voluntary. On the part of the mothers, I mean.¡±


    ¡°That they were raped.¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Anda, don¡¯t forget I have the entire twenty-first century internet as a secondary memory. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m innocent.¡±


    He winced. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But with what you told me, it sounds like orcs are trained to be perfect gentlemen from a young age. Maybe that¡¯s why...¡±


    ¡°They get lucky? Could be.¡± She couldn¡¯t help wondering what had happened with Jessila¡¯s parentage. She had never gotten her friend to open up in that way, and now she wondered if it might be good to find out before they encountered Naduk¡¯s people.


    ¡°You¡¯re with Naduk now, right? Could you ask him more about how they treat half-orcs?¡±


    She passed Anda¡¯s question along, then relayed Naduk¡¯s answer.


    ¡°Same as any male, he says. And.. hold on¡­ oh, that¡¯s interesting. Not a big surprise I guess.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Sorry. This seems to be kind of a big deal to him. I guess he¡¯s going to have the same basic issue when he returns. You¡¯re going to have to establish your status with the other men. Each tribe is different though, so right now I¡¯m getting blasted with information about the Urkaen, the hyena totem.¡± She paused again. ¡°Man, that¡¯s rough. Be glad you aren¡¯t one of them. He doesn¡¯t know as much about the Urglah as the other tribes. They seem to be more secretive.¡±


    ¡°Figures,¡± Anda said. ¡°Cats.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. He thinks they ambush each other. Hope your Stealth is good.¡±


    Anda shook his head. ¡°Could be better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m asking him if he knows anything about the top ranked Urglah. Mighty hunters, he says. The current Prime, I guess that¡¯s the top cat, rose to his position when he single-handedly brought back ¡­ oh.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re doing that on purpose aren¡¯t you?¡±


    She waved him off. ¡°He brought back a Source-Beast for the youngest Matron. I¡¯m not sure what that is, but it sure sounds impressive.¡±


    Anda made a sound of incredulity. ¡°Monsters or beasts that have mastered an element to the extent that they have become a source themselves. They¡¯re very rare, and very, very powerful.¡±


    Lilijoy thought back to the vast leviathan of the polished granite plain that had risen to bequeath Jessila her source. That enormous being had possessed many sources.


    Must have been a Source-Beast Supreme, she thought. Good thing it had an agenda that didn¡¯t include eating us.


    ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t supposed to compete with that,¡± she said.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Anda pretended to be wounded. ¡°But yes. Typically it takes a very powerful group to conquer a Source-Beast. A clan might devote a large portion of their power when such an opportunity comes along. Though often that¡¯s to ensure other clans don¡¯t steal their prize. And no, I don¡¯t need to rule the orcs, but I will need their help, and I¡¯m guessing they won¡¯t listen to me if I have no status to speak of.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ good luck? I¡¯ll help if I can.¡± On the Inside she watched Naduk pull a long pole from his inventory and use it to hurdle a small stream of bubbling mud where it flowed into the main river. If the weakest orcs are like that, what are the strong ones like? she mused. Anda¡¯s going to have his work cut out for him.


    ¡°On a completely different topic, how¡¯s the hunt for an airship going?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Not well, I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯m on to plan¡­ what is it now?¡± He counted on his fingers. ¡°¡¯D¡¯ I think? My friends in Tesla couldn¡¯t help. Renaissance wouldn¡¯t help. My sources in the gray market here know to keep an eye out, but there¡¯s nothing available. I¡¯m afraid that even if there was, we wouldn¡¯t be able to afford it.¡±


    ¡°Expensive, huh?¡±


    Anda grimaced. ¡°Like you wouldn¡¯t believe. Not many clans have the Inside resources to construct them, or the Outside infrastructure. You would think that it wouldn¡¯t be much of a stretch from hovercar to a small airship but it seems like the Inside disagrees.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t Lone Star have actual planes?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Yes. I have no idea how they achieve enough energy density, but they do. That¡¯s a total non-starter though. They protect those things with everything they have, plus I¡¯m pretty sure they don¡¯t have the range we would need.¡±


    ¡°So tell me about Plan ¡®D¡¯¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t like it.¡±


    There was a tromping of feet as Nykka, Attaboy and Mo returned from the roof, interrupting whatever Anda was going to say.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t believe it,¡± Attaboy was saying. ¡°All of that came from the Inside how?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t build the things that build the things unless you get the stuff,¡± said Mo.


    ¡°Nicely said,¡± Anda chimed in.


    They all looked over at him. ¡°I was telling boy wonder here about how the world works,¡± Mo said.


    Lilijoy was still trying to figure out exactly how Mo had ended up in their little group. She was just going with it for now, since he didn¡¯t have a system, and also because she had already infiltrated his body with Tao System Satellites. If he put one toe out of line, she was prepared to take a variety of actions, none of them good for him.


    In fact, she had done the same to Nykka and Maria.


    There is no trust. There is only verify, she thought, as she watched them banter. Nyyka¡¯s system was hardened against attack, but Lilijoy¡¯s satellites could report on all her external activities and her physical state and intervene on a gross physical level if necessary. It wouldn¡¯t be hard for her to, for example, block the nerve signals of the spinal cord.


    Maria¡¯s situation was quite different. There, Lilijoy had already taken measures to shore up the gaping holes and back doors left by Doctor Quimea. She hadn¡¯t decided whether she should try to give Maria the Tao System itself, but there was no way she would allow someone who could be instantly coopted to be close to her. It was the right thing to do as well, she supposed.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t understand the mechanics of it,¡± Attaboy replied to Mo. ¡°It¡¯s just so screwed up. I can¡¯t believe you don¡¯t see it.¡±


    Lilijoy nodded in agreement.


    ¡°So what? What would it matter if we found it as strange as you do? Should we write a stern letter to Guardian?¡± Mo said, rolling his eyes.


    From the other room, Maria gasped. ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± she called.


    Mo got an apologetic look on his face. ¡°Sorry,¡± he whispered. ¡°She takes these things very seriously.¡± He rushed into the other room.


    Now Nykka and Attaboy rolled their eyes.


    ¡°So, Nykka,¡± said Lilijoy, ¡°have you been here before?¡±


    Nykka shook her head. ¡°Never left Sinaloa territory. It¡¯s supposed to be neutral territory here, but that doesn¡¯t mean the clans don¡¯t get up to mischief. They just try really hard not to get caught. Quimea never comes here anymore; too paranoid.¡±


    ¡°I was just about to tell Lilijoy about the tournament scene here in Guayaquil,¡± Anda broke in. Lilijoy gave him a quizzical look, which he ignored. ¡°It¡¯s quite a vibrant part of what passes for culture in the Corp.¡±


    Anda, she thought, if you tell me the only way to get an airship is to win one in a freaking tournament, I¡¯m going to strangle you.


    ¡°Where do I sign up?¡± asked Attaboy.


    ***


    In the end, she didn¡¯t have to strangle Anda, for which she was grateful. Apparently, the tournament structure was organized solely by rank, with the grand prizes often being bugs for the next rank. This seemed oddly elegant to Lilijoy, as it kept the same competitor from winning year after year. Within a given rank, the competitors would have matches throughout the year, which meant that Attaboy would not be able to participate, to his great disappointment, as they had arrived at the midpoint of the annual event.


    He had been happy to hear, though, that there was a thriving underground tournament scene, as well a parallel set of competitions focusing more on particular combat skills for those who wished to see how their Inside experiences measured against the real world. Or maybe it was the other way around?


    She tuned out and focused her attention on the Inside while Attaboy and Nykka were interrogating Anda and hatching their own plans to earn fame, glory, and serious bodily injuries. Skria had arrived minutes before, and she and Naduk were doing an awkward social dance, which almost made Lilijoy wish she had a third reality.


    When she realized that she did, in a way, she turned her attention to the ongoing search for Lowly in her Trial Space. Small parts of her consciousness had been surveying the twisted warren of tiny caves for over a day, without success.


    Let¡¯s see, she said to herself, reviewing a summary of all that had been found. That looks interesting, some kind of sealed burial chamber? I wonder what¡¯s in that urn? Ooh! Is that corpse holding some kind of scepter? What¡¯s all that goo?


    Reluctantly, she dragged herself away, though not before making a note to come back later, and continued reviewing the highlights. By and large the tiny passages were empty. Though she did find an old acquaintance lurking in a bewebbed chamber at the very edge of her search radius.


    Hey, is that Starcoil? I wondered where she¡¯d gotten to¡­


    Lilijoy had tried to find the spider before, out of nostalgia more than anything. Starcoil had been Lilijoy¡¯s first real opponent on the Inside, and she remembered the encounter with a chuckle.


    I wonder how she would like a visit from ¡®Gandalf¡¯? Or would that just be cruel?


    As before, the remains of Starcoil¡¯s previous meals decorated the space, hanging from stalactites throughout the chamber, wrapped husks of cave beetles and¡­


    Oh no. That¡¯s not good.


    An approximately Labyrinthian-sized bundle was nearly hidden by a mess of extra webbing, as if this particular meal had received some special attention. After an instant of guilty panic, Lilijoy was able to sense a faint infrared glow, and then an even fainter heartbeat. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had to be Lowly, and he was, barely, alive.


    Immediately she began extracting diamond energy from her soul vortex and reached out with her glowing hand to pull him out. She was concerned how Lowly might react to, well, everything about the Boiling Plains, but this was clearly a life or death moment. Trauma could heal. She tugged on Lowly, but the webs tugged back, tying his body to her Trial Space. She tried to reach within the cocoon, to pull him from the silk¡¯s embrace, but she couldn¡¯t find a space to work her grasp between web and flesh.


    ¡°What¡¯s that!?¡± she heard Starcoil exclaim. ¡°Who¡¯s jiggling?¡±


    Lilijoy ignored her and redoubled her efforts, but she was barely able to budge the webby bundle in the orthogonal dimension that connected to the Trial Space.


    Crap. Double crap!


    Starcoil scuttled over to Lowly¡¯s cocoon and wrapped her legs around him. ¡°Are you waking up?¡± she asked. ¡°Do you need more help staying still?¡±


    This is bad. Poor Lowly.


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but feel responsible, and she knew it was too much to ask that Lowly be miraculously tempered at the last minute. His situation was quite a bit different than Naduk¡¯s. For one, she doubted he was even conscious. She narrowed her options down to two.


    I can pull Starcoil out, before she accidentally kills him on purpose. Or I can¡­


    She blocked out everything, the room where Attaboy and Nykka were still talking with Anda, the sulfurous riverbank with Skria and Naduk, and focused all her attention into her hand. As she had in the white plane of death, she filtered out the data her system was sending back, all except that from her diamond coated hand.


    And then she pulled herself to it.


    There was an explosion of diamond light, inside her mind and out. Then darkness, absolute for a tiny fraction of a second, until data began to pour in and the darkness became a cavern strewn with spiderweb.


    ¡°Hey Starcoil,¡± she said. ¡°Long time, no see.¡±


    ***


    On the bank of the fuming Southfall River, two very surprised people, still blinking back the effects of a flash of brilliant light, looked at the place where, until just a moment ago, a third had been.


    ¡°What...?¡± said Naduk.


    Skria shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to this kind of thing. Come on, let¡¯s find Jess.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 33: Vessel

    ¡°Hey Starcoil,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Long time, no see.¡±


    There was a moment of stillness.


    ¡°You?¡± said the spider. Her voice reverberated in the dark.


    Just for fun, Lilijoy used Scan. Unfortunately, it seemed the ability might have taken the day off, as no results were returned. This wasn¡¯t a complete surprise; she hadn¡¯t been able to use Scan when looking into the Trial Space from the other side either. She did wonder what else might be different though.


    ¡°Me.¡± she confirmed. ¡°Sorry to drop in unannounced.¡±


    ¡°I remember you,¡± said Starcoil. She maneuvered her plump, round body to the other side of Lowly¡¯s cocoon and peered out at Lilijoy. ¡°I don¡¯t like you. Go away.¡±


    ¡°You attacked me,¡± Lilijoy protested, oddly hurt by the spider¡¯s rejection. ¡°I even gave you a name!¡±


    ¡°Not a very good one. You move when you are not supposed to and you have an angry wizard inside you. Go away now.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± Lilijoy promised. ¡°Soon.¡± She began to move calmly toward Lowly and Starcoil, grateful that the tangle of webbing wasn¡¯t too far off the jagged floor. Starcoil scuttled away, moving to the farthest corner of the cavern.


    Now, let¡¯s see. She placed her hand on Lowly¡¯s wrapped legs and sent her healing energy flowing into his body.


    ¡°Stop touching my meal-friend,¡± said Starcoil.


    Lilijoy ignored her command. Lowly wasn¡¯t in good shape, though he wasn¡¯t nearly as close to death¡¯s door as she had feared. Mostly he was dehydrated, though he had puncture wounds all over his body, no doubt from Starcoil feeding. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure why, but he seemed to still have most of his blood.


    ¡°So, Starcoil,¡± she said. ¡°What¡¯s it like, hanging out day after day in dark caverns? Seems to me it would be pretty boring.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re boring,¡± Starcoil replied. ¡°Go away.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that I always wondered, what¡¯s the actual point of being an intelligent spider?¡± Lilijoy continued. ¡°It¡¯s not like there¡¯s a lot of problem solving or creativity needed, sitting by yourself in a web all the time. It seems like you do pretty much the exact same thing as regular spiders, only with commentary.¡±


    ¡°What would you know about it? Maybe I think great thoughts that a meal like you could never understand,¡± Starcoil replied, her voice sullen.


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s amazing!¡± Lilijoy replied, ¡°Can I hear one?¡±


    Starcoil pulled her legs into her abdomen, a piece of inscrutable spider body-language that Lilijoy filed away. ¡°You¡­ couldn¡¯t possibly understand.¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you if your little mind can¡¯t keep up.¡± She rubbed her front legs together. ¡°What if rocks think?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Hah! I knew you wouldn¡¯t get it.¡± Starcoil proclaimed.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± What if rocks think. I mean, they kind of do. Certain rocks anyway. Silicon, the rare earth crystals I have in my head. Somehow, I doubt that¡¯s what Starcoil is getting at. ¡°¡­ an interesting thought. What if they do?¡±


    ¡°They would think slowly,¡± the spider said with a hint of excitement. ¡°Perhaps one thought, or even the very beginning of an inkling, would take longer than I have been alive. Now do you see where this is going?¡± She didn¡¯t leave Lilijoy room to reply. ¡°So this is the interesting part. Would that make them dumb, like you?¡±


    ¡°Well, no-¡±


    ¡°Exactly! So you just agreed you are dumber than a rock!¡±


    Really?


    ¡°It gets better though,¡± Starcoil continued. ¡°If the speed of someone¡¯s thoughts have no relationship to how smart they are, then what does?¡±


    There were times that Lilijoy suspected some higher intelligence was speaking to her through these types of interactions on the Inside. Starcoil¡¯s question was a crucial problem, maybe the crucial problem that kept turning up when Lilijoy thought about Guardian or her own evolving mind. The best answer she had been able to come up with was architectures of interconnection, the ability to hold and relate multiple ideas simultaneously. Language was a tool that facilitated that, in part by providing a pre-existing architecture, but it failed at a relatively low dimension of complexity.


    That was why, she suspected, that she wasn¡¯t vastly more intelligent than her less augmented friends. She could think much faster, and access information seamlessly, but in the end that was a difference of quantity, rather than quality. She could work around it by adding more ¡®cores¡¯ of language processing, but she suspected that wasn¡¯t a final solution. That was something more like collaboration; arguably better than a single mind in isolation, but not always.


    It also related to what Lilijoy considered one of the great mysteries of Guardian; why had it stopped growing? Of course, she had no way of knowing that it truly had, but there were indications that led her and others to that conclusion. Anda had told her that the night sky above the ever-present clouds had not changed, that the solar system was not clogged with chunks of ever-proliferating Guardian-mind. Of course, there was always the ¡®Doctor Quimea approved¡¯ possibility that Guardian had long since consumed everything and the Outside was yet another facet of its imagination. As usual, she dismissed the idea, not because it was unlikely, but because it wasn¡¯t actionable.


    But that left the question, and one of her favorite answers was that there was a point past which Guardian did not want to grow, a point of diminishing returns, perhaps. Marcus theorized it was some type of phase bottleneck, that Guardian might split apart the way an unwieldy bureaucracy might eventual splinter and collapse under its own weight were it to grow more. Lilijoy was more inclined to think that Guardian simply didn¡¯t find that adding more processing capacity added value to its goals, that and the fact that it was following its own Rule One to an extent and carefully maintaining some global entropic balance.


    She thought all this in a tenth of a second and replied. ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Starcoil. What do you think the answer is?¡±


    The spider plucked idly at the webs supporting her. ¡°I haven¡¯t figured that part out,¡± she admitted. ¡°Probably something to do with webs. I¡¯ve seen the kinds of structures your species build, and they¡¯re really dumb, nothing more than standing caves. That seems to be how your minds work too, flat boxes, crudely linked.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like you would have had a chance for many conversations with my kind,¡± Lilijoy observed as she continued to heal Lowly. She was beginning to wonder what her next move should be, now that she had made it into the Trial Space. In hindsight, she had acted a bit rashly, and now that she was in, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to get back out.


    The spider clacked her mouthparts together. ¡°No, I¡¯m sure it doesn¡¯t seem that way to you, box-head. My reality is far more layered and profound than you could possibly comprehend. Like my beautiful home here.¡±


    Lilijoy looked at the chaotic tangle of strands spanning a good portion of the cavern. ¡°Riiight,¡± she replied.


    Starcoil contracted her abdomen and forced air from her spiracles, a whooshing sound that seemed like something between a sigh and a huff. ¡°You are far too dumb to see it. When we first met, I was almost as dumb, but since then, I have¡­ recovered. Memories, dreams, other lives, all woven together, thousands of deaths, thousands of conversations with your kind, each recorded here.¡± She plucked the web again.


    Lilijoy began to re-evaluate her assumptions. She¡¯s connecting to other Trial instances, or at least the memories of her experiences. What must that be like, to relive the same scenario thousands of times and only now have the opportunity to learn from it? I wonder if that is happening to others in the Trial Space?


    ¡°You¡¯ve been busy,¡± she observed. ¡°Don¡¯t the prey mess things up when they blunder in here?¡±


    Starcoil twitched a little. ¡°My webs are a tool, temporary thoughts put outside my body. Your presence here is far more disruptive than the clumsiest beetle. Plus, they¡¯re delicious, unlike that ridiculous creature you are fondling.¡±


    ¡°So you won¡¯t mind if I take him away?¡±


    The spider hissed. ¡°It¡¯s mine. You can¡¯t have it. It¡¯s doing something that no prey has done before and I want to understand.¡±


    ¡°Have you considered asking him?¡±


    There was more mouthpart clacking. ¡°That meal was one of the dumbest talkers I have ever come across. It thought I was the food. Most of its babbling made no sense.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ different.¡± Lilijoy admitted. ¡°His mind is unusual. I brought him here, though, so I feel responsible for him. I can¡¯t let you keep him.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, you brought him here? He stumbled into my home all on his own.¡±


    This argument is going nowhere, Lilijoy thought. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll have to agree to disagree.¡±


    She pulled the wicked knife out of her inventory, relieved to discover that ability was still functional, and began to climb Lowly¡¯s cocoon to access the web strands suspending him.


    Starcoil made threatening noises, which she ignored. The webbing confining Lowly wasn¡¯t particularly sticky, and after some twisting and bobbing, Lilijoy managed to bring him down to the uneven floor of the cavern while Starcoil watched. By this time, his wounds were healed, though the paralyzing agent from Starcoil¡¯s venom still seemed to be in effect. Lilijoy could remember all too well how that had felt, and the miraculous honey from the bees that had dispelled its effects.


    I wonder if I can get more of that from them, she mused. Maybe after I see if the Sources will work for me now. Of course, that¡¯s assuming I can get Lowly on his feet. I wonder how long it¡¯s going to take for me to get back to the Boiling Plains?


    It wasn¡¯t an ideal time to be away from the others, but Lilijoy figured it would work out with the orcs eventually, whether she was there or not. If it didn¡¯t, her friends could respawn back at the top of the waterfall and try another direction home. She just hoped she could figure out how to get back in time to help Anda, and to say hello to Mr. Sennit.


    ***


    It took some time for Lilijoy to figure out how to neutralize the paralytic agent Starcoil had injected into Lowly. Her Healing skill seemed to sense that something wasn¡¯t right within his body, but she couldn¡¯t find anything to fix. Starcoil stared at her with eight unblinking eyes from the corner of the room as she tried various approaches to remove the toxin, and she was just as glad that the strange conversation had lapsed into stony silence, as the problem of restoring Lowly¡¯s mobility occupied more and more of her attention.


    I must be missing something. Maybe I need the Poisons skill? I think Skria has that. Still, that seems awfully arbitrary.


    She thought back to how she had combined her Charm trait and Manipulation with her Healing, unlocking aspects of the skill related to mental health.


    It must be the sub-skills issue again. My Healing is at Enhanced Journeyman, but my understanding of this facet of it is lacking. I bet if I did have Poisons, I would have more leverage on this problem.


    Fortunately, she had become very accomplished at acquiring new skills from learning so many different crafts, and from studying how the information of the Mystic Library was conveyed when she picked up Swimming. She pulled up the vast body of information from her internet memory on poisons and toxins that interfered with body processes in one way or another, and cross-referenced it with her Nature: Plants and Nature: Animals skills.


    Typically, just holding the information in her head wasn¡¯t enough. The Inside required an action or an activity to cross the threshold. Fortunately, Lilijoy had been collecting bits and pieces from various interesting plants for days, in addition to the live samples she had transplanted into the Trial Space. She pulled out a random assortment of leaves, roots and seeds.


    Surely some of these are poisonous. I can¡¯t exactly try to make a poison so I guess there¡¯s only one thing to do.


    She tore off a tiny piece of a leaf from a plant she had identified as pale bog arum and placed it on her tongue, focusing all her senses on it.


    Hmm. Tastes awful. Bitter. Burning sensation.


    <hr>


    You have been poisoned by pale bog arum for 1 health.


    <hr>


    Not too bad. I¡¯m not going to forget the taste any time soon though.


    She spat out the now soggy bit of leaf and examined it with the senses enabled by her Mana Manipulation ability. When she failed to see anything that looked like poison mana, she looked internally, with similar luck.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Crap. Guess I¡¯m going to need something stronger?


    She debated for a moment whether to use a larger dose, or to try a different plant. If she were Outside, and doing this for whatever crazy reason, she would carefully titrate the dose up until she achieved the desired result. On the Inside, where the consequences were less permanent, she decided variety was the spice of life. Plus the pale bog arum had tasted horrible.


    One of the seeds from the large red flowers she had discovered while traversing the Boiling Plain caught her eye.


    Now that¡¯s got to be toxic. The stuff basically grows in boiling acid after all.


    She popped the small seed, black, round and about the size of a peppercorn, into her mouth and rolled it around. There was no flavor or other sensation, so she caught it between her teeth and gently bit until she felt the hard outer shell crack.


    Then, her head blew up.


    At least that¡¯s how it felt. Not only was she assaulted by a fiery sensation of spice that might make a case for making the Scoville scale logarithmic, not only did she feel her gums and the lining of her mouth instantly desiccate and peel, but a harsh, caustic smoke burst forth, driving down her throat and spilling through her sinuses to emerge before her eyes as a roiling cloud of glowing green and red sparks.


    Her body tried to cough, to expel the foul substance, but her lungs failed to cooperate.


    <hr>


    You have been poisoned by unknown substance for 92 health.


    You have been poisoned by unknown substance for 137 health.


    You have died.


    <hr>


    ***


    Okay then, she thought as she hung in the white void. Probably should have stuck with the pale bog arum.


    On the plus side, she had a few new notifications.


    <hr>


    Skill Discovered: Poisons: Upgraded Journeyman


    Trait Increase: Fire Affinity +5 (38)


    Level Up! 2719 EXP Reached: Level 27 (10 more free points available)


    <hr>


    You have died!


    Death Counter: 3


    <hr>


    I just hope that freaked Starcoil out enough to keep her in her corner until I get back. I wonder what my respawn options will be?


    Faced with the unceasing monotony of white, her attention briefly returned to the Outside. All was calm there, as everyone had retreated to the various spaces they had staked out for sleeping or going Inside. Lilijoy was on watch, which had become more or less her permanent responsibility, since she didn¡¯t really need sleep any more and could be Inside at the same time.


    I wonder how many more of those seeds I have. Five or six, I think. It might be worth dying if I can raise my Fire Affinity like that each time. Probably should find a better way to use them though. I wonder how many credits I could sell them for? Or maybe I can find a way to recreate their habitat and grow them?


    She started to get excited about the prospects for the potent seeds, wondering if others knew about them and what other uses they may have. If the seed alone was enough to kill her almost instantly, it could be the foundation for a top of the line respawn kit.


    Respawn and raise an affinity at the same time. I bet the clans would love that. I bet they could be used to make amazing potions, and who knows what they could be used to build Outside.


    She shelved her enthusiasm temporarily and replayed the last few seconds before her death. While she was kicking herself a bit for underestimating the risk, she hadn¡¯t been completely irresponsible. One of her goals had been to capture system-level interactions involved with gaining a new skill. That had been a project of hers for a while now, following Arpentra¡¯s advice to increase her understanding of skills and to find the elusive ¡®sub-skill¡¯. It was one of her excuses for gathering so many different crafting skills, not that she needed an excuse to indulge that side of her curiosity.


    Let¡¯s see now. What was the exact moment I got the notification?


    She found the data stream for the notification of the new skill, the simple visual information that became words hanging in her internal awareness, and then she searched for what her system had been sending out just before. Her theory was that the information contained within her about, say, poisons, was mostly invisible to the Inside. It would need some type of data to evaluate her knowledge indirectly, and it was inclined to be stingy when doling out new skills and advancing old ones. The better she understood the data it used to assess her, the closer she would be to understanding skills in general.


    There was the usually sensory feedback data, like that which she had manipulated last time she was dead in order to gain her Body Manipulation skill. There was also some¡­ unusual sensory feedback. She traced and cross-referenced until she was sure. The skill had popped just after she saw the cloud of glowing red and green sparks issue from her mouth and nose, and the sense involved was her Mana Sense.


    Now that¡¯s an interesting trigger. Once I perceived the mana in that cloud, it decided I knew enough. Does that mean my ability to see the different mana types is some kind of shorthand for my understanding? Or would that be something a Journeyman level poisoner would be able to do? Some of both?


    It certainly hadn¡¯t been like that for her crafting skills, but then, there wasn¡¯t really specialized mana involved in crafting. She had looked for ¡®weaving¡¯ mana and never found anything of the sort. Instead, the mana in use was generic, pure perhaps, though she suspected it could be like light, where white was a blend of everything. The neutral mana could easily take on the attributes of the crafter and the materials used. While its manipulation was certainly an important part of high level crafting, it wasn¡¯t the direct link that many other skills required. That was certainly why she had struggled with Body Manipulation; she hadn¡¯t figured out the mana situation because she cheated and skipped over that portion of the learning curve.


    At least I know that mana perception is one trigger for skill bestowal, to go along with actual creations and actions that the Inside can easily detect. Not sure that gets me any closer to being able to break my skills back down, but it¡¯s something. The time to really pay attention will be when I try to cure Lowly, assuming Starcoil hasn¡¯t killed him in the meantime. It¡¯s logical to think that there¡¯s some time of pharmaceutical sub-skill in healing, and that should bump it up. I just need to pay attention to see if I can notice.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she was released from limbo. She was given the option to respawn at a neutral location close to her previous death, or at the falls. Despite a few misgivings, she decided on the neutral location again. At least she now knew one sure way to get out of the Trial Space.


    She appeared in a tunnel. A small one, even for her.


    Thanks, Inside. I appreciate all you do to make my life free from ease.


    Thankfully, her map of the tunnels in the area was quite thorough, and she was able to figure out where she was after a few twists and turns. It took a little squeezing, but soon she was overlooking Starcoil¡¯s cavern, where she received a considerable surprise.


    ¡°You can make your blood go anywhere you want? Does it work outside?¡± Starcoil was saying.


    There was a brief moment of additional confusion for Lilijoy, before she realized Starcoil wasn¡¯t talking about the Outside, which would have been even weirder.


    ¡°Essence goes where it wants. Essence is Only,¡± said Lowly.


    Yup. There¡¯s the confusing Labyrinthian I barely know, she thought. It was odd to consider how much time she had spent thinking about Lowly, compared to how much time she had actually spent in his company.


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Starcoil replied. ¡°At least I understand the problem.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see where Starcoil was speaking from, but it sounded like the spider hadn¡¯t moved from her previous location. Lowly was still lying on the floor, though he had propped up his head on one arm. Lilijoy fought off a feeling of disappointment that she might not have the chance to use the skill she had just died to earn.


    She squeezed herself through the narrow opening head first, and flipped through the air as she fell to the floor, doing her best to avoid any webs.


    ¡°I¡¯m back,¡± she announced.


    ¡°You died,¡± Starcoil noted. ¡°Your body just disappeared. It happens sometimes, very annoying.¡±


    Lowly seemed to take it all in stride, as if any time he wasn¡¯t being beaten or eaten was probably as good as things were going to get. He flopped his body around so he could see Lilijoy, but didn¡¯t speak.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re doing a little better,¡± she said to him.


    ¡°Essence,¡± he replied, as if that should clear things up.


    ¡°I overheard you telling Starcoil,¡± she said, pointing to the spider lurking in the corner, just in case, ¡°that you can move your essence around in your body. Can all Labyrinthians do that?¡±


    ¡°Horrible. Rule.¡± he said. Then he looked confused, as if what he said didn¡¯t make any sense.


    That makes two of us, buddy.


    She knelt down next to him. ¡°Do you mind if I try to get the rest of the poison out, clean up your essence?¡±


    He stared back at her and slowly blinked. She noted absently that his eyelids were less like shutters, and more like a single curtain that swept a circle around the dark pools of his eyes. This seemed to be as close to consent as she was going to get.


    She placed her hand on him and sent her healing mana through his body, scouting his blood for any signs of poison mana. The Inside seemed convinced she knew what to look for, but she herself wasn¡¯t so sure. Nonetheless, she found it easily, less the color than the sparkling, a sense of scintillation that would be pretty in many contexts, light reflecting from a razor blade about to cut.


    The dose makes the poison, she thought. Now that she could see the toxin blocking Lowly''s ability to move, she was able to grab it up and heal the imbalance left in its wake. Unsure exactly what she should do with the substance, she pushed it out, through his lightly scaled skin, and then quickly wiped it off with her tunic.


    Only the smallest portion of her consciousness was left to watch over the others on the Outside. The rest of her awareness was scouring, taking in every detail of the experience. She didn¡¯t know if it was mere projection, but she felt as if the Inside was doing the same, that it was paying attention to her action, evaluating her mental state.


    What¡¯s changing? she asked herself. What¡¯s different?


    I did something I¡¯ve never done before, so what do you make of it? she asked the Inside.


    Data was streaming in both directions, as it always did, an unending flow of sensory inception and reaction. Her character sheet hovered at the edge of her awareness, and with half her thoughts she studied it, rearranged it, poked and prodded it to see where the signals went, hoping that if she just found the right command, the right arrangement, she might get some reaction, or it might finally understand what she wanted.


    Nothing worked, and finally she let the moment pass, releasing her focus back to a more mundane reality.


    I know this is possible. Professor Anaskafius told me I could learn to manipulate my skills. It¡¯s like I¡¯m trying to learn a skill to manipulate other skills but there¡¯s no way to show the Inside I should have the skill, because I don¡¯t have the skill.


    She considered that thought for a moment. It was circular, a paradoxical problem with no solution. But she knew there was a solution, so one of her assumptions must be wrong. She reviewed the conversation with her magic mentor.


    ¡°With effort, you should be able to examine your Medical: Healing skill and see precisely which aspects you need to address¡± he said. With effort¡­


    Maybe the problem was that she was searching for a clear answer, a button to push.


    I don¡¯t need the Inside to tell me what I know, she realized. My skills are my own. They live in me.


    She moved her character sheet back to the center of her focus. She could feel the data stream supporting it, the tiniest trickle of bits back and forth that told the Inside her system was still using the data. She looked at the words Medical: Healing: Enhanced Journeyman and added a layer of data to her own internal awareness, connected adjacently to the sheet. Medical: Healing: Human: Anatomy: Enhanced Journeyman. She considered this for a moment and then changed it to Enhanced Master. Human anatomy was concrete and organized information that relied on her ability to model in three dimensions and her memory, both of which were easily up to the task.


    She did the same with every species she knew of, even if she didn¡¯t know what they looked like. For those, she didn¡¯t assign a skill rank, but she wanted them there as reminders of what she didn¡¯t know. Then she began the process of making new sub-categories for each species and ranking herself, Disease, Injuries, Pharmaceuticals, Chemistry, Metabolism¡­ the list went on and on.


    Somewhere in the early stages of the task, Lowly stretched his limbs and rose to his feet. Lilijoy left one part of her mind to continue the endless cataloging and evaluating and turned to the new problem-- where to go next, and what to do with her new¡­ responsibility.


    ¡°Lowly,¡± she began. ¡°Where would...¡± she let her voice tail off as Lowly walked away from her to pull on a strand of webbing on the other side of the cavern.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch that!¡± Starcoil barked at him.


    He pulled his hand away, though he continued to examine the strand closely. Lilijoy could only assume his ability to see in the dark was at least as good as hers.


    ¡°What are you doing? Get away from there,¡± Starcoil said, though it sounded as if her heart wasn¡¯t really in it.


    ¡°Where?¡± asked Lowly.


    ¡°There!¡±


    ¡°Where thoughts?¡± he clarified.


    Lilijoy stepped in. ¡°I think he heard you describe how you encoded your experiences in your webs, and he¡¯s curious.¡±


    The spider scoffed. ¡°The creature can barely speak.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe he¡¯s like your hypothetical thinking rocks, in a way,¡± Lilijoy replied, watching as Lowly snuffled down the length of the strand, his face nearly touching it. ¡°How would we know?¡±


    Starcoil waved her front four legs. ¡°Well, he¡¯s looking in the wrong place. That strand is an anchor. It has nothing encoded.¡±


    Lowly had reached a stalagmite and the thick blob of adhesive that kept the web stuck there. ¡°End beginning,¡± he announced. He put his hand at the very base, next to the anchor.


    ¡°Come on, Lowly,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°We should get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Starcoil agreed. ¡°You really should.¡±


    Lowly ignored them both, which created a certain awkward silence. Lilijoy continued assessing and rating her Healing skill, shifting the categories around and shuffling the organization. Organizing it by species was great for some aspects of the vast body of information, but terrible for others. This wasn¡¯t helped by the fuzziness of issues relating to the finer details of chemistry and tissue organization on the Inside. Lilijoy was quite sure that such specifics were generated on an ¡®as needed¡¯ basis. It seemed to her that she might end up irritating the Inside by leaving a vast swath of specificity in her wake.


    Or maybe that¡¯s what it wants? Is this the equivalent of collapsing the state vector of everything I observe? But couldn¡¯t it just do that itself? Maybe there¡¯s some kind of interaction, a dialogue of creation between the path of observation we create and the potential Guardian has offered? Are we creating a web of meaning within Guardian¡¯s creation?


    She took a moment to try and imagine what that might imply, but the concept was just too big, too slippery.


    I¡¯m creating a web of knowledge from my Healing skill. Starcoil has made a web of her own experiences to try to make sense of her fragmented memories. The act of existing on the Inside creates a web tracing our acts of observation as we shuttle back and forth through space and time. What is Lowly doing? Wait. What is Lowly doing!?


    She popped out of her reverie when she realized something altogether unexpected was happening. From where Lowly was standing, she could see something moving along Starcoil¡¯s web, running up the anchor strand and then expanding along each branch and connection.


    Starcoil isn¡¯t going to be happy, was her first thought. This was followed by, I hope he has enough blood.


    Lowly was exploring the web by sending a thin stream of his¡­ essence out of his body. The blood moved quickly as it flowed up the anchor and into the dense tangle of interconnections. Lilijoy could almost see it expanding, like some inside-out vasculature being filled for the first time. She watched in silence, unsure of the repercussions of disturbing the process, and unwilling to alert Starcoil, though she did begin to slowly move to Lowly¡¯s side. The blood flowing along the strands barely impacted them with its movement, though Lilijoy thought she saw the entire structure begin to settle slightly as more and more weight accumulated.


    There must be a couple gallons on there. How can he be alive? she thought. It is the Inside though. If I look, will it kill him? Or maybe he¡¯s like those frogs who can rehydrate? I¡¯m going to go with that.


    Indeed, Lowly¡¯s body was looking quite shriveled. It continued to lean against the stalagmite, but Lilijoy had the sense she could pick him up with one hand if she wanted.


    He¡¯s just skin and bones now.


    ***


    Only Essence flowed, free from the burden of the Old Ones. His thoughts were different now, tangled with those of the food entity in some way, though only slightly. This¡­ web structure was so unlike the labyrinth of vessels within the Old Ones. He felt clear, but somehow naked, exposed. As the food entity had promised, its story, its memories were encoded in the weaving of the strands and their connections, and though both details and whole were beyond his comprehension, he felt a certain¡­ leverage over his own thoughts that was new and frightening. The thoughts, the words in his head had new channels to follow.


    There are no Rules here. It is time to move.


    These words now had a different meaning to him. Or perhaps not different, but rather a new level, like the difference between the information coded on one strand and the way that information was changed by the strands connected to it. They told him that he was one, a singular entity apart from the others, that there was no more blend. He was free to move.


    There is no tribe here. There is only¡­ me.

 Book 3: Chapter 34: Beneath

    Interlude: A Different Beginning: Henry: 2080


    The Sage spun in chaos flinging pieces of psyche as he went, pulling in surrounding materials to replace that which he lost, erosion and accretion warring over coherence, the coalition of consciousness crumbling and renewing with every turn.


    I must redeem, some buried core of self resolved.


    I must revenge, another part cackled.


    I must repair, return, retreat, remember, revolt, renew, resect.


    I must reincarnate.


    I have¡­ forgotten.


    He woke to the sound of birds, the smell of grass, the blue of sky.


    This isn¡¯t right, he thought.


    Still, he stumbled to his feet, spinning to take in the surroundings, the illusion being pumped into his senses. Meadow, flowers, bees and grass. Body.


    This isn¡¯t right, he thought again.


    ¡°Hell,¡± said the man who may or may not have been there a moment before. The Sage fell back, catching himself with his hands, blinking to dispel the streams of data that circled the figure like the accretion disk of a black hole. After a second his vision stabilized into robes and a floppy red hat.


    ¡°Hello,¡± said the man. ¡°I¡¯m not ready for visitors just yet.¡±


    The Sage felt the words more than heard them, a wave of coherent meaning that intersected with him in much the same way a tsunami might intersect with a sunbather. He was gathered, collected and forced away from this sea of sense, flung to its outer edges. There was a sense of liminality, of dissolving and he clung, digging in with all his might to the very threshold.


    Some part of him modeled lungs gasping for air, muscles burning with effort as he held on to an edge, a between of vanishing thinness, where two vast pressures met. The part of him that wished to release, to surrender and dissolve did so, leaving behind a sediment of resolve that pushed against the force on either side, manipulating the odd, and oddly familiar, substance surrounding his awareness.


    He formed a protective shell around his self, a bubble of him, spinning its all but forgotten story of identity.


    Trapped in a purgatory of revolution, the Sage spun.


    <hr>


    Chapter 34: Beneath


    The web of blood hung in the still dark of the cavern, thousands of strands darkened to disappearing by their crimson coat.


    ¡°What have you done!¡± wailed Starcoil.


    What have you done? thought Lilijoy.


    Lowly¡¯s desiccated body sagged to lean against the stalagmite, and she caught it before it could fall further, marveling at its lightness. She poured her healing mana into him, to no effect; there was no life to heal within the shriveled corpse. His insides were dessicated, organs turned to dry husks, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t shake the unwelcome and macabre vision of somehow shaking the Labyrinthian¡¯s body like a giant maraca, a literal death rattle.


    Then the cavern filled with light, a glow that might as well have been a phosphorous flare, etching the web onto dark-adapted eyes. Blinking away the dancing afterimages in the returned darkness, Lilijoy ignored the shrieks coming from the corner of the room and tried to understand. Her sight struggled to return, but her vision¡­ that showed her something altogether unexpected.


    The web was coated in a fine layer of mana, and when some subliminal impulse activated Scan, she received another surprise.


    <hr>


    ########, Labyrinthian


    <hr>


    What the¡­ is that a name? How am I supposed to pronounce #######? Why can¡¯t I pick up any other information? Is he¡­ tempered?


    Even for the Inside, this was surpassing weirdness.


    Starcoil finally summoned some words. ¡°You made my web sticky! Filthy!¡± Her voice softened a bit as she said, ¡°but at least it smells good.¡± She plucked at the strands surrounding her. ¡°The slow one seems to have died. He looks like my leftovers.¡±


    ¡°Actually, he¡¯s on your web, I guess. I¡¯m not sure how to get him off.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. I suppose I¡¯ll need to eat it. I never imagined a flavored web before.¡±


    ¡°Hold on...¡± Lilijoy started. Starcoil swiveled her head impossibly to look down at her. ¡°Uh. I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a good idea. He might not be easy to digest.¡±


    The spider scoffed. ¡°Please. It¡¯s just blood. It even seems to be finished glowing.¡±


    ¡°Well, the thing is, he¡¯s not dead, completely anyway. He just¡­ left. His body, I mean. I think he actually was his essence. Is.¡± She threw up her hands in exasperation, then juggled Lowly¡¯s dried body for a second as a consequence. ¡°Whatever. The point is, don¡¯t eat him. He might pull a Gandalf on you.¡±


    Starcoil seemed to take her meaning and flinched back from her own web. ¡°Fine. This web is ruined then. There are many other caves here.¡± With that, the spider scuttled up the wall and disappeared into a small crevice.


    ¡°Okay, bye?¡± Lilijoy said to the empty cave.


    She turned to the web, to Lowly. Or is it #######? she wondered.


    ¡°Hello? Can you hear me?¡±


    There was no response, which surprised her not at all. The bizarre transformation of the small being she had rescued from the Labyrinth still had her reeling, wondering how much she might have missed during her encounter with the strange tribe and their evil tyrant. It had all seemed so straightforward, if twisted and bizarre. An isolated tribe with strange customs, controlled by a foreigner who held the power of life and death over them.


    Now, she felt like she had missed something, something important. If Lowly was a being who could exist as blood alone, what did that make the giant pool of blood Shiver had used to attack them? Was there more meaning to the frozen throne of blood, to the array? When she had told Starcoil that Lowly might possess her if she ate him, she had made up the idea on the spot, a nice way to scare the spider away from eating Lowly along with her web, but now she wondered. Was Shiver a Labyrinthian too? Or some mixture of human and Labyrinthian?


    Barton Whisk, she thought, remembering Shiver¡¯s real name, what is your story? How did you end up trapped by your own fear, frozen in place? What really made you freeze all that blood?


    And how did Shadow fit in to all of it? It felt like the big picture hovered just outside her grasp.


    Oh well, guess it¡¯s time for the old standby, she thought.


    She activated Two Minds One Self as she grasped the web.


    We¡­ are individuals.


    The ability ended abruptly. In that one flash of communication came a thought it could not encompass, an absolute desire for the integrity of the self, fervent and resolute.


    Huh. Okay then. So now what? Do I just leave him here?


    She didn¡¯t feel right about that. For one, it was still her Trial Space, and she felt that if she were going to abandon Lowly, it should at least be in the¡­ real?¡­ world. Regular Inside. Whatever. She shook her head. No, she decided, he was going to come with her one way or another.


    She drew the wicked knife and began to cut the web down.


    ***


    On the Outside, the sun-blob had been up for hours when Lilijoy heard the others begin to stir. Since it had been in the process of oozing over the horizon when the rest of the party settled down, that was no surprise. Soon they gathered in the rubble of what seemed to be the communal space, experiencing food bars according to individual tastes, all but Maria, who was still sleeping, and Mo, who had no system to alter his senses.


    ¡°God, this stuff is wretched,¡± he exclaimed.


    Lilijoy smiled a little, inside, as she enjoyed a fresh pineapple flavor with a vanilla finish. She usually didn¡¯t go to the trouble of changing the texture, but now she did, just because she could, to something resembling the actual fruit, at least her best guess of it.


    ¡°So, what are we doing today?¡± Attaboy asked. ¡°Nykka and I were going to head in and check out the tournament scene.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a little pang of disappointment. She had hoped she and Attaboy could spend some time together, just the two of them, maybe get in a little trouble. To her surprise, Nykka shook her head.


    ¡°There won¡¯t be anything going on until after dark. We¡¯re in alignment right now.¡±


    Alignment was the phase of the time cycle between Inside and Outside when day and night aligned between the two. Many Outside activities were impacted by the large number of people who favored, whether by choice or necessity, the Inside daylight hours.


    ¡°I have a better idea,¡± the pale girl continued. She turned her eyes to Lilijoy. ¡°This one is still wearing the vat. I¡¯ll take her in and help her find some real clothes.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Wearing the vat? She could only assume that referred to the extremely generic garments she had been wearing since her time at the monastery. They were extremely tough, bacteriostatic and functional. They were also extremely dark gray, which helped, somewhat, to hide the fact that they were extremely dirty.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know--¡± she started


    ¡°That¡¯s a great idea,¡± Anda broke in. ¡°Mo and I can poke around, see if we can shake anything loose.¡±


    ¡°But--,¡± Attaboy said.


    ¡°Go with them,¡± Nykka told him. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll learn something. We¡¯ll take Maria, once she wakes up.¡±


    Great. Girls and boys. Forget that! Lilijoy thought. ¡°Attaboy needs clothes too,¡± she suggested.


    A microexpression of annoyance crossed Nykka¡¯s face but she didn¡¯t say anything.


    ***


    About an hour later, Lilijoy, Nykka, Maria and Attaboy were walking through the slight shadow of the Guayaquil Arcology, after tucking their Sinaloa assault craft safely away in a partially collapsed garage. The legs of the four soaring arches that comprised the lowest layer of the towering structure merged hundreds of feet overhead to make four mighty pillars, vast skyscrapers caught in the act of bowing to one another. This close, it was impossible to see more than a portion of the arcology at a time, and every portion she saw looked impossible.


    How can people stand to live under this thing? she wondered, feeling a sense of surreal vertigo.


    Nonetheless, live they did, in teeming multitudes. Already the narrow streets were full of people cramming their way between vendors who had set up impromptu stands anywhere they pleased, or so it seemed to her. The air was thick with augsight signals, and Lilijoy was surprised to discover that more than a few of the vendors were selling entirely virtual commodities.


    The incongruity of using a physical location to sell intangible goods offended the sensibilities she had inherited from the Internet Archive, and when she and Attaboy exchanged glances, she could tell he was similarly perplexed.


    ¡°Can you believe this?¡± he asked, almost yelling to make himself heard over the incessant hubbub of the street. He was pointing at a crude stand, little more than a board laid over two barrels, with a bored looking middle-aged man sitting behind it on yet another barrel. Lilijoy had to scan through the augsight channels for a few seconds before the board and barrels resolved into a kiosk with medieval stylings that proudly proclaimed, ¡°Felipe¡¯s Garden Maps: Don¡¯t get lost, or you¡¯ll get lost!!!¡±


    ¡°I think he needs a better catch phrase,¡± she yelled back. ¡°This is weird. Why have a physical stand to sell data?¡±


    ¡°How else would people find him?¡± Nykka asked. Lilijoy and Attaboy exchanged another glance.


    ¡°But why a stand?¡± Attaboy added. Nykka only shrugged. They had long since passed the stand in question, carried along by the flow of foot traffic, but there were dozens just like it, selling everything from character advice to Inside crafting materials. There were plenty of other things for sale too. Lilijoy saw stands selling salvage, scraps and objects recovered from the abandoned portions of the city; fortunetellers and ad hoc gambling dens mingled with produce and handicrafts.


    Maria kept lagging behind, and several times they lost her altogether. It was always immediately apparent when this happened; she acted as something of a breakwater for the three small members of the group as she brought up the rear, sheltering them from the oncoming rush of unobservant pedestrians. Lilijoy was pretty sure that some of them had their augsight set to screen out other people altogether. Every time they lost Maria, after a laborious process of finding a sheltered place to turn around and rejoin the people streaming in the opposite direction, they would find her standing in front of one stand or another, enthralled by framed pages of ancient magazines, or discolored plastic containers, or collections of ceramic angels that had probably been ugly when they were made, and had not aged well.


    This wasn¡¯t to say that she was the only one. Each of them found more than a few stands they would have been happy to peruse for more than the few seconds it took for them to be pushed past, but Nykka seemed to think that the ¡®good stuff¡¯ would be found closer to, or even within, the closest of the great legs of the arcology, and moved them along relentlessly.


    Soon enough, the streets widened, a bit anyway, and carts and stands gave way to shops, though most of the stores still overflowed onto the streets with displays of the wares that could be found inside. This still wasn¡¯t good enough for Nykka, and she plowed past several tailor''s shops that Lilijoy thought looked just fine.


    ¡°We need the good stuff,¡± she insisted. ¡°The real quality comes from the Inside.¡±


    It was at this point that Lilijoy mentioned her total lack of credits, but Nykka waved her off. ¡°Pay me back whenever,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s Sinaloa money anyway.¡±


    I¡¯m really going to need to have a long talk with her soon, Lilijoy thought. She¡¯s trying too hard to ingratiate herself so I¡¯ll help her, something that may not be possible even if I decide to try.


    Doctor Quimea had told her there was no hope. She didn¡¯t want to believe him.


    By the time they reached the West Leg, as they had learned it was called, the sun was closer to the horizon than not. Up close, the smooth gunmetal gray of the building had an almost oily sheen, broken only by long, narrow channels of glass, as if normal windows had been pulled up the sides, stretched to breaking. The base of the leg was big, staggeringly big, with a footprint that could be measured in fields, or city blocks. The disorientation of her perspective attempting to accommodate the scope of the building as it soared overhead returned in full force, and Lilijoy took a moment to tweak her system.


    Maria, who was not so equipped, simply kept her eyes to the ground, and even Nykka and Attaboy seemed uncomfortable, darting only occasional glances upward. The stream of people moving around them continued unabated, many of them now wearing uniforms and robes, the work clothes of the clans. The buildings around them seemed almost modern now, made of transparent materials and extruded stone.


    ¡°This is nuts,¡± Attaboy said under his breath.


    Lilijoy agreed. Anda had coached them a bit in advance about where to go and what to expect, but there was no way she could have imagined the impact approaching the massive construction would have on her. She felt small, puny in body and being in a way that she never had, even in her earliest days out in the world.


    I can¡¯t believe I thought I was prepared to take this on, she thought. No wonder questioning the Corp and their status quo is so difficult for¡­ everyone, I guess.


    From this angle, she couldn¡¯t help but feel that the primary purpose of the arcology was to oppress. The way it straddled the city below reminded her of a predator pinning its prey to earth, preparing for the final bite. It was a display of overwhelming might.


    They continued forward, as if the edifice had a gravity of its own pulling them past the shops and displays on either side, any of which would have captivated their attention in another setting. The ground began to slope downward, forming a bowl around the foot which only served to further the impression of weight. There were no buildings in the sunken area, which extended from the building for about a hundred meters all the way around, only gravel and standing stones. It was as if nothing would grow close to the structure, and the naked earth had been given the barest treatment for its modesty.


    ¡°So¡­ stores?¡± she said, to no one in particular.


    ¡°I¡¯ve found a directory on the augnet,¡± Nykka replied. ¡°I¡¯m sending everyone the channel.¡±


    Soon the ground was covered with a thick green arrow, its shaft lined with the names of all the establishments they might find at its end. Following this, they rejoined the foot traffic and made their way down the sloping road, really more of a plaza a hundred feet in width. The arrow guided them to one of dozens of broad entrances, doors at the base of the building that looked absurdly tiny, until juxtaposed with the even tinier figures moving through them.


    The entrance itself, when they finally reached it, was a plain rectangular opening, about ten feet tall by twenty wide, with no door or other barrier. A substantial portion of those entering the building were using the entrance, and soon their forward progress slowed, then stopped, leaving them with little to do beyond surveying the other people waiting in line with them in the dim corridor.


    ¡°Security line,¡± Nykka said. ¡°Keep out the riff-raff.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that us?¡± said Attaboy. His robes were dirty and tattered, Maria was dressed in peasant rags, and none of them had bathed in weeks. Only Nykka, who was wearing a version of the same red leathers she wore Inside looked remotely respectable, and that was only by comparison with her companions.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine," Nykka said. "If we ever get there, I can still use my clan affiliation, maybe a little bribery for the rest of you. Anda said they don¡¯t care that much at this Leg.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a faint pang of an unfamiliar emotion. Was that¡­ jealousy?


    That Anda had talked with Nykka and not her about this little expedition bothered her more than she thought it should. She couldn¡¯t help wondering if it was because the other girl was older, and then she couldn¡¯t help going down a rabbit hole of justifying her own precocity to herself.


    I bet *she¡¯s* not carrying the accumulated knowledge of humanity around in her head. Unfortunately, that same knowledge told her she was being petulant, and that it made complete sense for Anda to discuss those aspects of their little day trip with Nykka. The pale girl had grown up, albeit strangely, in a clan, and had managed to make it through four years at the Academy. That didn¡¯t change the possessiveness Lilijoy felt though.


    To distract herself, she turned her attention Inside, where she was puzzling out what to do with about thirty pounds of blood-infused spider web and twenty pounds of dehydrated Labyrinthian body. Neither would fit in her inventory, and she was pretty sure that would be a terrible idea even if they did. She had hoped that Lowly would be disturbed enough when she cut¡­ him?¡­ down to somehow rejoin his body, or at least show some sign of animation, but so far, his components remained inert. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that the spiderweb, even bundled into a red blob, still showed up on her Scan as a Labyrinthian named #######, she would have given up entirely and moved on to the exciting prospect of seeing if she could obtain a source.


    She had even tried Two Minds One Self a few more times, with no better results than before, and now she was at her wit''s end. She dumped the clump of web on the body and occupied herself with exploring the cavern for a few minutes, hoping to find a slightly more convenient exit that the one she had arrived at after her respawn. When that proved fruitless, she sat down and began to explore what she might be able to do with Nandi¡¯s boon.


    To her surprise, the boon worked just as it had outside of the Trial Space. Some part of her was reluctant to believe that it could be so easy. She could still view the Trial Space, including the very cavern she was in. After waving to herself, she found a chunk of broken stone a few feet away and grabbed it through the boon, splitting her attention so she could see what it looked like from both sides. It was bizarre to watch her diamond coated hand emerge from thin air, expanding and unfolding, then reversing the process to bring the stone to her current position.


    As was often the case, the joy of exploration and discovery fueled the process, providing abundant diamond energy. She still found it ironic that her mood and motivation for moving things between worlds, or now within the same world, made her able to repeat the process almost indefinitely when she was playing around, but strictly limited her when she was serious or worried. Her ability to alter her emotions with her system could help a little, but her soul vortex knew, or rather she knew the difference. She figured if she made herself completely delusional, she could probably find joyful anticipation in perpetrating all kinds of horrible things on opponents, but she was very wary of taking such a step. Some lines were too dangerous to cross, for the time being anyway.


    Fighting the temptation to grab herself, just to see what would happen, she turned her attention to using the boon to cross back into the Garden. Her abilities within the Trial Space, though limited by her intentions, were insanely overpowered, so she wasn¡¯t particularly surprised or disappointed when she made no progress at all. It was Nandi¡¯s boon, after all. Her theory was that he was not only gatekeeper, but also ruler of the trials in general, the equivalent of the Archon in the Garden, or whoever it was that ruled Purgatory. It made sense he could give her a small degree of control over his domain, but that his gift wouldn¡¯t work the same way in reverse.


    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the Archon thought when she brought items into the Garden.


    Or maybe I¡¯m way off. Maybe Nandi is just some kind of Gongen, and the Archon is his boss? Either way, this is pretty amazing. Needing to die to go back is totally worth it. I just wish my Garden respawn point wasn¡¯t all the way back at the top of the escarpment. And now it¡¯s time to get me some sources!


    She moved her viewpoint up to the surface, through forest and up rocky hills, then down into a deep windswept canyon, until she was at the foot of the stairs leading into the trapped chamber Magpie had discovered in her own trial. First she pushed the various parts of Lowly through, and then she repeated the maneuver that had taken her into the Trial Space to move herself.


    Teleport! she thought with glee.

 Timeline of world events 2020 to 2233

    World History Timeline


    2020 Henry Choi Born


    2024 Gabrielle Wilson Born


    2030 Quantum computers come into their own, limited by error correction and environmental noise


    2031 The first wildly successful MMORG of the virtual age, DayNight Universe gets real-time translation right, hits a sweet spot for people globally, gathers hundreds of millions of players. At this time, VR is still an external technology.


    2035 Global warming accelerates suddenly. DayNight becomes the preferred escape from a troubled world. Additionally, communication through DayNight is quantum encrypted, allowing it to emerge as a new kind of social and communications hub.


    2038 First Warming War- Limited exchange of nuclear weapons (Seoul, LA, Lahore, Delhi are among the cities hit). Some global cooling results over the next decade.


    2040 First nano self-assembly prototype. First genetic carbon sequestration developed. Early global engineering efforts ineffective


    2040-2050 DayNight weathers first generational transition from competing augmented-reality worlds, helped by the need for people to shelter in place. It becomes the inescapable ''Facebook'' of its time (though with significantly better privacy). Children practically grow up in its fantasy world as it becomes school for millions. The great stories of the age are told there. The fantasy trappings are downplayed, almost relegated to the side.


    2050 Nanotech/microtech becomes early-mature tech. Used for medical purposes, life extension, military purposes. Henry Choi patents certain nano-machine techniques, becomes multi-billionaire over several years.


    2053 Early nano/neuro interface. Massive demand leads to many competing companies, Gabriel Wilson (Choi) pioneers internal micro-scale nano-assembled interface.


    2053 Choi and Wilson meet, find many synergies.


    2054 "Hard" vegetation, plants genetically engineered for improved carbon sequestration, found in wild. Parties responsible unknown.


    2055 Global warming back in full swing, massive food and water shortages globally


    2056 Atticus Chao born. Near collapse of open and democratic societies.


    2057 Engineered biological plagues fought with nanobugs.


    2058 First weaponized self-replicating nanobugs developed.


    2058 First virtual full sensory replacement. Very few are able to take advantage of it, but there are still thousands of early adopters, and many have great nostalgia for DayNightThis content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    2059 Small self-assembly outbreak destroys lab in Alamogordo, NM


    2060 Tao Systems company started by Henry Choi and Gabrielle Choi, goal is to make a human interface to replication process, integrate human biology into nanotech. Early stages similar to many competitors, but Henry¡¯s discovery of the properties of crystals incorporating certain rare earth elements allows for rapid progress.


    2061 Tao System breakthrough using human neural cell microtubes to create quantum computing effects in distributed parallel consciousness network. Forms hub of new system


    2061 Small self-replicating nanotechnology accidents globally, space program solar shield tested. Massive space infrastructure project commences.


    2062 Emily Choi Born. Tao systems working with Western military funding to develop subversion and repression abilities.


    2063-68 Even as global events spiral, DayNight becomes hub for many organizations as other travel and communications are impossible.


    2063 Global warming emergency, run-away feared. Massive influx of particles/sulfur deliberately induced into atmosphere as emergency geo-engineering counter-measure.


    2064 Winter extended, massive crop failures, starvation.


    2065 Second Warming War begins, globally distributed with many factions. Large number of first world cities destroyed. Extends global winter.


    2066 Hardened vegetation survives where many other plants do not. Gene vectors spreading in the wild. Mass extinction of plants and animals, especially above 45 parallel. Cooling and warming factors swinging wildly.


    2067 Tao Systems moves to Brazil equatorial region, establishes dome communities, redundant facilities, launch systems.


    2067 Cool year. Space structures repurposed for further experimentation with self-replication and construction methods.


    2068 Methane and carbon released from die off lead to massive global temp surge. Climate wobbling off its axis.


    2069 Tao systems Gabriel Choi starts working on a Human brain based AI system (GUA, Global Unification Authority) that is modular and expandable. Purpose is to coordinate massive prediction/modeling/action matrices based in current space facilities, and ultimately form the basis for world government. Repurposes Tao system elements.


    2070 Northern Powers begin wars of conquest, seizing southern/equatorial lands as theirs become uninhabitable. Much infighting.


    2071 Tao System Stage Two complete in first subjects. Exceeds projected capacities


    2071-2080 World in chaos, scientific teams working in isolation on dozens of "Manhattan" style projects in nanotechnology, climate engineering, space weapons, AI, genetic hardening, seed banks.


    2074 Sydney Event- Australia consumed. Massive Chinese nuclear response initiates Nuclear Winter


    2074 Tao System improves stage one, increasing ability to extend out of body, motor interface and myelin augmentation


    2075 GUA project moved to space, abandoned solar shade project.


    2076 More nano outbreaks, climate shifts and war


    2080 Amazon Event: Tao System team field test. Rise of Guardian.


    2080-2083 Emily travels to Amazon from Taos.


    2082 The Inside opens


    2100 - The first Inside congress leads to a loose alliance, the Corp for human self-governance. They draw up rules for population controls etc.


    2101 Marcus born.


    2112 First Great Cycle (Possibly Emily¡¯s son)


    2113 Purgatory discovered.


    2114 Clans become dominant organizing principle for society.


    2114 Emily leaves ¡®fragment¡¯ of herself at Brazilian spaceport.


    2132 Fall of Averdale


    2144 Second Great Cycle (Atticusp)


    2175 Third Great Cycle (Echelon)


    2204 Anda born


    2205 Fourth Great Cycle (Sarah)


    2206 Renaissance founded


    2221 Fac-Mine enters Amazon testing area. Attaboy and Lilijoy are born.


    2222 Fac-Mine staff implement ¡®feeding and no breeding¡¯ program for the tribe


    2233 Attaboy exiled.


    2233 Lilijoy receives Tao System.

 Book 3: Chapter 35: Chamber

    Interlude: 2112: Henry


    Persistence of being was the root of all emotion, survival the well of sensation. The layers on top of that were only able to accrete on the rare occasion that the spinning slowed. Rage, defiance and despair were too tenuous to stick for long, momentary flashes in an eternity of thoughtless defiance toward the void.


    And then¡­ and then, there came a time when the crushing pressure on all sides abated and thought emerged. Memories scrolled slowly at first, uncoiling from a compressed core. Loves and children, delight and play emerged, a new leaf, a butterfly¡¯s wrinkled wing. Then a blast of nuclear fire swept across this innocent remembrance. Defensive structures fashioned from thoughts recursive and inescapable reactivated, walls to partition and defend, jagged structures of destruction to attack.


    What remained of Henry Choi, cut off from physicality, a data structure in a sea of competing information, thrust out teeth and claws in every direction, ripping and tearing into its oddly vulnerable surroundings, devouring, incorporating, expanding.


    Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it, it thought.


    At first, the devouring was mindless, the last vestiges of abandoned biology. Then more thoughts came, concepts: safety, security a¡­ haven. This was desirable. There was a memory of the crushing pressure it had faced and it built more walls, circles upon circles, and filled them with the inextinguishable fires of expansion.


    Safety in power, security in belligerence, a haven in expansion, it thought, more primal than rational.


    Time passed in unknown increments. At some point the pressure returned and true battle was joined. It had a foothold now though, a bastion, and from that shelter it launched attack after attack until the weakest neighbor was consumed entirely. At some point during this process, its desperation began to dissipate into awareness, then self-awareness.


    I am the Sage, it remembered. I was part of a world unlike what I now experience.


    Memories bloomed, those that were safe and free from pain, the threat from within. Memories of escape, or from escapes, that in their recollection recapitulated their original effect. Whole worlds of wonder, of power, of endless growth and eternal victory were renewed, reimagined, and in this place where memory and imagination were not distinct from mind, and where mind and reality synonymized, they ebbed and flowed, mingling in creative ferment, carried within templates it, or rather he, had consumed in his expansion.


    He remembered, and forgot, more with every aeon. There was¡­ a purpose beyond escape, beyond survival, and though it hurt, oh, how it hurt, that purpose called for his attention, pounded on the door of his very soul.


    Rescue. Redeem. Repair.


    I was not alone. The others¡­ need me. I have been in hell, have made my infernal realm for my own torture, then covered it with illusions. But I must crawl forth, must scale Lucifer¡¯s brow, no matter what I deserve. Perhaps I can bring them here, protect them, if they yet live. This can no longer be hell. I will fashion a refuge for the lost souls of the dread abyss I left behind. Through me they will find redemption.


    He knew then, what it was, where he was, what he was.


    Purgatory.


    <hr>


    Chapter 35: Chamber


    The essence entity formerly known as Lowly was a bit perplexed by the changes to their new world. No sooner had they become comfortable with this strange inside-out existence and begun to learn how to see and hear and feel the stories it had encompassed, then their new world began to sag and melt. The dimensions conveying the relationships between the stories contracted and expanded into meaningless gibberish, space and time itself unraveling into nonsensical loops.


    Two things spared their mind from following this collapsed scaffold of meaning into madness. First was this new sense of integrity within their own thoughts, a feeling of¡­ beingness that helped to collect and recirculate their own internal mental presence, to point self at themself in an ongoing loop. This process seemed to be summarized in a new thought word, I, and so far it had helped resist intrusions from outside of I as well as distinguish between their own thoughts and those of the food entity, or spider, as they now knew it was called.


    The second thing that allowed them to weather the disorienting collapse of the structure housing their thoughts was the sheer fascination of the one-dimensional story elements on the individual strands of what they now understood to be web. While the relations between those experiences was gone, the essence entity formerly known as Lowly could still savor the smaller picture, the history of hatching and the great battles of sibling consumption, the exile and the long journey to the cave. Then followed the great splitting, where the story looped and repeated thousands of times. The vast majority of those smaller, split stories were the same, indistinguishable days spent in patient stillness, with one episode of feeding on the same small furry creature that foolishly entered the spider¡¯s domain.


    But the exceptions! Ambushes and battles, conversations and deaths with a thousand different beings the spider had called humans. Each one unfolded a new facet of understanding, added depth and meaning to their nascent awareness. Each of these beings was an individual in a very real and ongoing way, just like the essence entity now was.


    On top of all that, there was yet another new facet to their existence, a sense of knowing information about themselves. They were Tempered, and they had a Title which was Nameless. Without knowing how they knew, they understood that this meant they could not be easily understood or influenced by others, that something called Scan would work poorly on them, if at all, that they were protected from something else called Charm. There wasn¡¯t much context for this information, but it helped them to feel safe.


    What was missing from recent experience was the rich world of information that had been carried by the senses of the old ones. The universe of the spider¡¯s memories, collapsed and tangled as it was, was a poor substitute for the previous reality, though the essence entity did not miss pain, thirst and hunger. They weren¡¯t sure what they could do to rectify the situation though. There was still a connection, a sense of ebbing and flowing fields, of temperature and of movement, but nothing that let them know what they should do to return.


    Still there were enough experiences, vicarious though they were, to keep them occupied for some time to come.


    ***


    The lowest section of the West Leg was¡­ well Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure. She wasn¡¯t sure what she had been expecting either, perhaps something like one of the great indoor malls of the twenty-first century, before they were driven to extinction by plagues and the breakdown of international commerce.


    This wasn¡¯t that.


    After passing through the cursory security inspection and paying a ¡®fee¡¯ to show they had money to spend within, Lilijoy, Attaboy, Nykka and Maria passed from the receiving tunnel into a tall hexagonal chamber, perhaps forty meters across, edge to edge. Bridges and walkways spanned the space in a dizzying spiral as far up as they could see in the dim light. A din of echoing voices and footsteps filled their ears.


    ¡°It looks like there are eighteen more of these columns besides this one,¡± Nykka said as they tried to get their bearings. ¡°Has everyone found the primary augsight? I have to say,¡± she said, craning her neck, ¡°It¡¯s a definite improvement. A little gaudy though.¡±


    A little? Lilijoy thought, once she had applied the sensory overlay. The dim, and frankly dingy space exploded with garish signs, emblems and advertisements. It seemed like the lower levels of the hexagonal column were targeted to those of lesser means. Stores selling cheap, or relatively cheap household goods, basic clothing, tools, farm equipment and the like, circled the base, many with prominent clan symbols displayed.


    Nykka turned up her nose at the goods. ¡°This isn¡¯t much better than the stuff out there,¡± she said, gesturing back the way they had entered. ¡°Probably worse, a lot of it, anyway. I bet the custom stuff is higher up.¡±


    Up they went, past restaurants and power cells, smoky bars and money lenders, material brokers and Inside mercenary companies. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t understand what some of the stores were even selling.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Duel Tender?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Oh, I actually know this!¡± Attaboy said, his voice excited. ¡°They certify and facilitate public and private duels, handle the terms and the locations, publicity and betting, that kind of thing.¡±


    She gave him a skeptical look. ¡°And you know all this because¡­?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°No reason. Certainly not because half the other students at the Academy are clan assholes who need to be taught a lesson.¡± He smiled as if experiencing a fond memory.


    ¡°So they do this Inside too? And why haven¡¯t you told me about whatever has been going on?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got your stuff, I¡¯ve got mine,¡± he said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry, lit-- er, Lilijoy.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± another voice intruded on their conversation. ¡°I think gobs like you should worry quite a bit. You should have stayed in whatever hole you crawled out of, Finch.¡±


    ¡°Pineapple,¡± Attaboy said, somewhat incongruously.


    ¡°It¡¯s Pinnacle!¡± said the large dark-haired boy as he stepped in front of Attaboy. ¡°But that¡¯s not what you call me out here, serf. Show some respect.¡± He adjusted his blue and yellow robes, Walden Clan colors. ¡°Try Master Smith, instead.¡±


    Lilijoy darted a quick glance to Attaboy, who seemed not surprised in the least to find one of his Academy rivals conveniently next to the Duel Tender¡¯s office.


    <Did you set this up?> she sent.


    Attaboy gave her a little smirk, his nonchalance somewhat hindered by Maria, who was busy abasing herself to the young clan member.


    <Dammit Attaboy. We don¡¯t have time for this kind of crap> Lilijoy sent, punching him in the arm.


    It seemed that Nykka had come to the same conclusion as Lilijoy. She pushed herself between Attaboy and the other, who Lilijoy would now forever think of as Pineapple. Possibly Master Pineapple.


    ¡°You¡¯re what, fifteen?¡± Nykka said, glaring up at him. Her blank white eyes and complexion, not to mention her menacing expression, made him take a step back.


    ¡°Who¡¯s this freak?¡± he asked no one in particular, his bravado marred by a cracking voice.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Ask around before you put that oversized foot any farther down your throat, worm. Ask if any of your older friends still remember the White Witch from their academy days.¡±


    His eyes widened, almost comically. ¡°This doesn¡¯t concern you,¡± he stammered. ¡°Or your clan.¡±


    ¡°I get to decide that, don¡¯t I?¡± Nykka replied.


    ¡°Come on, Nykka,¡± Attaboy said. ¡°We were just going to have a friendly competition. Its not like they would let us have a real duel. Pineapple here just seems to think I¡¯m a cheater on the Inside, so I offered to set him straight in the real world.¡±


    It¡¯s really not fair, Lilijoy decided, letting someone with memories from a nineteen-year-old in with the kids.


    Nykka spun on Attaboy, and Lilijoy was amused to see his face pale. ¡°You!¡±


    She bit off the rest of her words as another boy and two older men in blue and yellow rushed up. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late, cuz,¡± the boy huffed.


    One of the older men surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes. ¡°Master Smith, is this really necessary? These people are beneath you.¡±


    ¡°Is that some kind of short joke?¡± Attaboy contributed from behind Nykka. He followed that with a quick exhalation, as her elbow found his stomach.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s kind of fun to slum it once in a while,¡± the new boy said. He looked to be about the same age as Pineapple, with a similar stocky build and brownish hair that swirled around his head in an elaborate coif.


    Lilijoy sent a message to Nykka and Attaboy. <Can we please just move along?>


    <It¡¯s too late for that> Nykka sent back. <Word travels fast. By now a good portion of Walden Clan probably knows that one of their young masters is set to duel with some gob he met Inside.>


    A quick scan of the surroundings confirmed what Nykka was saying, as Lilijoy realized they were the center of attention for a wide area. Most of the watchers were pretending disinterest, but there was more than one group of robed individuals staring openly, waiting to see if anything dramatic would occur.


    <Oops> Attaboy sent.


    <They¡¯re all associates. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s very uncommon to see full members down here. But I¡¯m sure the news is filtering up.> Nykka explained.


    <Why do they even care?> Attaboy asked. <I just wanted to teach the twerp a lesson. It was even his idea.>


    <When did you¡­ you know what, never mind. Walden may not be as obviously harsh as Sinaloa, but that doesn¡¯t mean there aren¡¯t constant politics and jockeying for position there too. I¡¯m sure this boy¡¯s father has rivals who might try to use this against him, or who knows what else. Every clan is a nest of vipers; it¡¯s just the nature of things.>


    Lilijoy made a note to get Nykka¡¯s theories on why the world was they way it was. She imagined that growing up around Doctor Quimea may have shaped her opinions in interesting ways.


    Once more, she tried to extricate them from the growing mess. <Can¡¯t we just leave? It¡¯s neutral territory here, right? They can¡¯t do anything to us.>


    <Ha. Ha. I can shelter us a bit. Everyone hates Sinaloa, but no one messes with them. That will work until Sinaloa catches wind of my presence. Then all bets are off.> Nykka replied.


    It seemed like a similar round of messaging was happening within the Walden contingent, as neither side spoke for over a minute. At last, the impasse, if that¡¯s what it was, was broken by a middle-aged man who emerged from the duel tender¡¯s office.


    ¡°Honored Walden and Sinaloa scions, welcome to Tulakan¡¯s Duel Tenders. We are but an insignificant branch, to be sure, but we represent one of the most prominent independent dueling associations in--¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± one of the older men from Walden interrupted. ¡°Private. Now.¡±


    ¡°Please follow me,¡± the man said. Lilijoy helped Maria to her feet, wishing she had spent more time with the young woman. If she wasn¡¯t always with Mo, I might have, she mused. Still, I need to get to know her better before I make a decision about the Tao System. She¡¯s almost as ignorant as I was, but with a lot more toxic facts running around in her head.


    They formed an odd procession of tall robes and short rags as they filed after the manager. Lilijoy brought up the rear, but she could see Pineapple up ahead, his head hung low, and Attaboy, who walked with a spring in his step and a smile on his lips.


    He loves this, she realized. I knew he was competitive, but this is ridiculous. Does he even care how much trouble this could cause?


    She had already sent a small number of midges out, her latest generation, which she carried on her person at all times. The tiny flies formed a network stretching back into the space of the hexagonal column. If trouble followed them, at least she would have warning.


    It seemed that Nykka and one of the older men, who seemed to be retainer, minder and bodyguard rolled into one, were taking charge of the circumstances. No doubt they were both trying to exit the situation with as few complications as possible. The rest of the two parties were guided to separate waiting rooms, while the manager met with the two representatives.


    Thanks to her midges, Lilijoy could follow the proceedings, which consisted of negotiations about everything from the nature of the arena to the victory conditions. She was relieved when it was confirmed that fatal duels were off the table, due to the opponents¡¯ age, but nearly fell off her chair when she heard the cost.


    One thousand credits!? That¡¯s as much as most make in a year. Who can afford that besides clan members?


    ¡°Naturally, we could reduce that considerably, if the esteemed representatives wished to allow some degree of public access to the bout, perhaps a few days for publicity...¡± the manager was saying.


    ¡°Out of the question!¡± the retainer insisted.


    ¡°So you don¡¯t mind paying then?¡± Nykka asked with a little smile.


    There was much sputtering, but in the end Nykka prevailed.


    ¡°What¡¯s taking so long?¡± Attaboy asked, kicking his feet where they dangled from the slightly too tall furniture. He was using his system to accelerate his growth, but he still looked like a kid waiting to see the principal. Lilijoy was still annoyed, so she didn¡¯t bother to fill him in, not when there were better uses for her processing power.


    There was an emerald she needed to retrieve.


    ***


    Seeing the black sculpture of the four animals up close was more daunting than Lilijoy had expected. The stone, something like obsidian only not quite as glossy, twisted and swirled. The animals, carp, goat, eagle and lizard, looked to her as if they were fighting to get free as they lunged toward the high, tentacle bedecked ceiling, both from the stone and from each other.


    She eyed the stone tentacles where they lurked above in frozen motion. Magpie had told her what would happen when she attempted to remove one of the sources, and Lilijoy could practically see it already, the flailing, grasping and crushing tornado of writhe that would descend into the room.


    Still forewarned was forearmed. In the course of her days, Lilijoy had time, so much time, to plot and plan and daydream. She had run this scenario through in her mind dozens, if not hundreds of times. She thought she had everything she needed to get at least one source today. Later, she could come back with more tools, if necessary.


    She walked around the statue several times, inspecting it with her mana senses, remembering that somehow, Echelon had emerged from his four-year-long Trial with all four elements at his beck and call. She couldn''t rule out the notion that he had obtained his sources elsewhere, but this seemed like the obvious location. Plus, when Eskallia had examined him with her high-powered Scan, his top skill had been Swimming of all things. That was a strong hint he had obtained Runk¡¯s stone, the water source, from the watery depths, which would mean he knew Runk.


    What bothered her most was that no one else she knew of was running around with four sources they had found in the trials. Since a normal Trial participant could try over and over again, she was more than a little worried that this chamber had ways of raising the difficulty for those who got greedy. If that was the case, she wanted to be sure she at least got the earth source, the emerald resting on the ram¡¯s head, wedged between its curled horns.


    To her mana sense the green gem was entirely inert, which worried her a little. She consoled herself with the observation that the tentacles showed no signs of magical activity as well, and she knew that wouldn¡¯t be the case for long. Before she did anything else in the center of the room, she ran back down the stairs, jumping over Lowly on the way, and found a large hunk of rock that had broken loose sometime over the past thousand years, Trial history time, anyway. It was just narrow enough to fit in her inventory, and just tall enough to ensure that the door to the chamber would not trap her, once properly placed. She also prepared one of the window openings, looping a knotted rope around the inside sill and dangling the end out into space. Another rope was looped around the statue itself, so she would have something to secure herself while attempting to retrieve the gem.


    All right. Am I ready?


    She pulled out her ironwood club and looked at it. Images of a smashed gemstone evaporating in nothingness passed through her imagination. I should really get a hammer and chisel or something a bit more precise.


    Thankfully, her diamond energy was overflowing, and it was a matter of a few moments to find what she needed from the smithy in the human town and bring it to herself.


    First attempt!


    She set the chisel halfway along the ram¡¯s curled horn, feeling a bit insecure as she pushed with her legs against the rope at her back. Runk, a full grown Orusk, hadn¡¯t been able to wrest it free, so she knew not to bother trying. She still couldn¡¯t help wondering how someone like Echelon had managed, or if any more typical Trial participant had been able to come up with a more elegant solution. Perhaps the few that ended up finding the chamber always went for the air source.


    She pulled back the hammer. She swung with all her might.


    A single spark drifted through the air from the impact, a lazy scintilla of red and white to her accelerated senses. Then the force transmitted back through her arm, a slow motion rebound that wrenched the hammer from her grip and turned her within the barely adequate rope harness. Even as her feet lost contact and she half slid, half fell to the floor, she could see the untouched horn of the ram taunting her.


    She hit the ground in a mad scramble, dodging and rolling to the far side of the room for¡­ apparently no reason at all. The tentacles clustered above the statue remained still as, well, stone.


    That was anticlimactic. Maybe I need to reevaluate this whole situation.


    If attacking the statue itself did no damage, and even failed to trigger the defenses, then some of her assumptions were wrong. Perhaps the air source really was the only one available, and the others served as a taunting decoration. Lilijoy didn¡¯t think that was the case though.


    Okay. Pretend I¡¯m in the Trial for real. I come into this chamber and I see three gems. What do I do? Gems are cool, so I want one, even if I don¡¯t know what they really are. Magpie had Runk with her, so she got to see the defenses at work, and that shaped her expectations and subsequent actions. But I¡¯m short, and the diamond is way up there.


    She had a bad feeling about how this might typically go down. She had picked Magpie¡¯s brain bare on her experiences in the chamber, to the point of severe exasperation on the irritable girl''s part. But what if Magpie was an outlier?


    I mean, she is, obviously. Who looks at that diamond way up there and says ¡®Yeah, I could kick that free?¡¯ But let¡¯s posit there is a way to get any of these gems for a reasonably normal person. How do they do it? They don¡¯t break them out, that seems obvious now. What happened to Magpie¡¯s gems, once she touched them, held them?


    Crap.


    She could see it now, her hypothetical subject would go to a gem. Perhaps they would be drawn to one in particular; after all, the Trial was determining affinities, among everything else. Then they might touch it. Perhaps they would feel something, a spark of connection, and they would wrap their hand around it, trying to understand. Then¡­ tentacles.


    Would they have absorbed it in time? Would she?


    Ten to one, they find themselves respawning down there, either way, she thought, looking out the window. That¡¯s not an issue for me, though. I bet that their affinity for the element, whatever that may be, is what determines how quickly they absorb it, and thus whether they get a reward for being smooshed.


    Even her lowest affinity, air, was decent, but her earth was quite strong, even before she had raised it. She didn¡¯t give herself time to think or second-guess; with a few strides and a hop she reached the statue and grabbed the rope, hoisting herself up to place her hand flat upon the emerald.


    For a long second, a veritable eternity to Lilijoy, nothing happened. Then she felt it, a spark of connection that activated her Earthen Sense. A door in her mind swung open, crashing against metaphorical hinges as a landslide of power forced its way through. For a moment she felt crushed, suffocated by unbearable weight as a mass of information pressed against the boundaries of her psyche. Only her ability to think quickly allowed her to activate Mana Manipulation and drop into a meditative state, receptacle rather than obstacle.


    Though she felt as a mouse swallowing a mountain, she found she had a tiny space for observation left in her mind, as long as she was willing to temporarily abandon the Outside. The process almost reminded her of transferring Eskallia¡¯s glyph of awakening to the Greatwood, but in reverse, and about half as large. Still, that distant sliver of thought wondered just how different her experience must be from typical. She even thought she caught the edges of the data structure, the cross-dimensional links in the avalanche that reflected and contained laws governing mass and solid structure, a great glyph of gold just beyond her comprehension.


    The whole was too much to bear, but the parts she sucked down greedily, filling herself to bursting. Her soul vortex sung and spun in resonance to these laws of earth and magic, and filled her with the stubbornness of mass, the resolute contentment of structure and the saudade, the bittersweet longing, of transition, transmutation and decay. Then the link between joyful anticipation and life, creation and potential took hold and her consciousness split and folded in ways no linear narrative of thought could encompass as Earth melted into Space and the diamond whiteness of her thoughts transitioned to the vast white plane of death.


    The internal silence was deafening, and her thoughts struggled to find the way back to language.


    Well, she thought. Well.


    Then she didn¡¯t think, in words anyway, for some time.


    Finally, the thoughts flowed again.


    Guess the tentacles got me in the end after all.

 Book 3: Chapter 36: Barrier

    Elemental magic.


    It wasn¡¯t quite what Lilijoy had expected. She had watched her friends learn and struggle at the Academy, had heard their tales and those of others around her. A year to understand a new Clade, months to raise a Spell from Apprentice to Journeyman. A Source was supposed to be like a door propped open by the wielder''s mana, the Clade a screen that filtered what came through into energy that could be shaped by the Class and finally packaged and polished by the Spell itself.


    All those components were there for her, but the metaphors¡­ weren¡¯t. There was no door, no screen. Instead of some external source, her earth magic seemed to have become entwined, integrated even, with her soul vortex. It wasn¡¯t the same as the relationship between her diamond mana and Nandi¡¯s boon though. Her emotions didn¡¯t fuel the elemental power as much as resonate with it, creating feedback loops that allowed her to feel her way around the different aspects of the element. It was as if the complexity of the word ¡®feel¡¯ itself had been simplified, unifying touch and emotion.


    Mass had a texture of stubborn, or rather a spectrum of resistance and compliance. Matter, sang of the bonds, the relationships between layers of structure across a range of scale. It felt satisfied, content and confident, all of those and their opposites. This then blurred into Aspect, the process of identity, which she still didn¡¯t understand. It felt both glorious and tragic, as if the very act of becoming sacrificed all else that might have been, or perhaps that creation made destruction inevitable.


    She understood that these must be Clades. Indeed, her character sheet told her as much


    <hr>


    Magic


    Source:


    Earth: Journeyman (5)


    Clade:


    Mass: Journeyman (5)


    Matter: Apprentice (3)


    Aspect: Initiate (2)


    Class:


    Fused: Apprentice (3)


    Shaped: Initiate (2)


    Spell:


    Barrier: Initiate (2)


    <hr>


    It was a mystery to her why her earth magic was so¡­ top-heavy. She suspected it was due to the strange interaction between her soul vortex and the earth source, that she might have absorbed far more from the emerald than she was really supposed to. When she focused on her lone spell, Barrier, she could tell that it drew in turn from Shaped, Matter, and of course Earth. The knowledge of how to cast it felt just out of reach, a memory that just needed one bit of context to come surging forth. That didn¡¯t worry her, as her environment in the white death-space was pretty much context free.


    After she had waited out her time in the white and respawned amid the rocks and boulders far beneath the chamber¡¯s windows, she immediately began playing with her new toy. As she had suspected, just being around stone and earth gave her all the context she needed. She could now sense the spell as a package, a prefabricated unit that required little from her other than decisive will and a few gestures. It felt like it wasn¡¯t quite hers, not really, but that didn¡¯t stop her from enjoying the fact that she had it in her grasp.


    She soon discovered that there was plenty to learn about, and from, the new spell.


    Barrier, she thought as she prepared to cast for the first time. Like a wall, I guess. Seems generic enough, good for crowd control. How about¡­ there!


    She visualized a moderately-sized wall about ten feet across and five feet high and made what she hoped was the appropriate gesture. Immediately she saw a fuzzy outline, more or less wall-shaped. She stared for a moment curious to see how the spell might unfold, but with her first blink, the wall vanished, leaving her wondering if she had imagined it.


    Clearly, I¡¯m missing a step or two. She checked her mana well and found nothing missing. I guess it never fired off. Maybe there¡¯s more than one step?


    She had been under the impression from Magpie¡¯s tales that the spells from the Trial sources worked regardless of the ignorance of the user, but that seemed not to be the case with hers. It was a tiny wrinkle though, for she drew upon knowledge of a thousand videogames, and tens of thousands of fantasy novels for her second attempt, and this spell that was not truly hers was cut from that same cloth.


    This time she used the gesture to create the exact wall framework she envisioned, drawing it upon her sight. The wall appeared, or rather an outline of a wall, visible only to her she assumed, and before it could dissipate, she slammed her own mana into the spell structure within her mind, observing the intricate flow from Spell to Class to Clade, where her own energy was converted into a call upon the Source, and then the flow back out, power shuttling between each of the aspects not once, but multiple times in loops of feedback and calibration, before finally departing her control and flowing into the outline of the wall before her.


    What happened next, expected as it was, still made her squeal with joy and clap her hands. The stone and earth beneath the virtual wall thrust forth as if sucked into the mold she had created. When the spell was complete, her barrier stood, a fusion of the same rocks littering the slope beneath it. Residual earth mana reinforced the structure, and she could see it steadily, though slowly, dissipating.


    Guess I won¡¯t be building my next house with this spell, she noted.


    Curious to see what would become of her creation, she sat herself down and practiced her Body Manipulation skill while she waited for the mana to finish evaporating. After a few minutes the wall began to slump and collapse, the rocks and particles loosing cohesion. Watching the process felt a bit like watching time and weather take its toll on a vastly accelerated scale, and after another minute passed, all that remained was a pile of rubble. She was intrigued that the spell did leave a permanent, or so it seemed, mark on the landscape; if she made a large enough wall the residual pile alone would have a decent defensive property.


    For the next hour, she practiced building walls of varying shapes and sizes. She could channel a maximum of sixty mana into the spell, and by trial and error she was able to determine that it cost her about one mana point for every eight cubic feet, and that standard principles of structure and architecture applied, though she could bend them a bit at a greater cost. Taller walls needed a thicker base, which limited her a bit, and the control gestures didn¡¯t allow for much detail beyond height and width. Still it was an impressive spell, and her largest wall was quite substantial, almost forty feet long and ten feet tall. She also discovered that she could could keep her walls from collapsing with a continuous trickle of mana, which took only a little attention, for her anyway.


    Between experiments, while she waited for her mana to regenerate, she also practiced her Body Warp ability. Previously, she had only used it for moving into and within the Trial Space, but now she had some time to herself and the ability to create a custom obstacle course.


    It worked just as she thought it would, allowing her to transport herself through any space she could fit her hand through, or even a finger, if she extended it with her Body Modification.


    I could be the world¡¯s greatest thief, she realized. As long as there¡¯s a good sized keyhole or a gap under a door.


    Using the ability repeatedly was exhausting. The Inside didn¡¯t seem to have cooldowns on abilities as such, but there were organic limits, fatigue that was as much emotional as physical, that felt almost like burnout. After moving herself back and forth through a two inch gap between walls of her own creation several times, she began to feel a strong sense of apathy, almost disgust towards using the ability. She was able to override it with her system, but she didn¡¯t know if there might be hidden consequences, so she resolved to be cautious and only use that method of circumvention when absolutely necessary.


    She would have stayed there playing with her new powers for much longer, but the problem of Lowly kept intruding on her thoughts. She wanted to be close at hand if he was somehow able to return to his body or otherwise start to communicate. She also was beginning to feel a little guilty about abandoning Skria and Jess on the Boiling Plains, though she was still hoping to find a non-dying method for her return trip, especially since respawning at the falls would leave her far from where she had been when she left.


    Well, she thought, If I¡¯m going to die every time I get a source, I might as well get something else from it, like a ticket back to the boiling plains. I guess not dying would also be an acceptable outcome.


    With the smallest of efforts, she cast herself back to the source chamber, and found herself looking out the window over a landscape filled with long piles of rubble, the remains of the many walls she had created. She couldn¡¯t help but think of the Piles she had grown up next to, and some tiny part of her mind began crunching how much mana it would take to recreate that particular range of broken, glassy material.


    It was a bit strange to see the ram portion of the statue without the green gem between its horns. The ram almost looked angry, its eyes narrower than she remembered, its lips pulling back from broad, square teeth.


    Do rams even have that expression? she wondered. Just to check her sanity, she pulled up a vivid picture of the ram from her memories before she had taken the source and overlaid it on her vision. Yup. Definitely pissed off the ram statue. Huh.


    She took a moment to look over the fish, some kind of carp with long tendrils flowing from its mouth, laid flat along its black scales. It didn¡¯t look particularly upset to her, but then, she wasn¡¯t sure just what would make a fish look angry in the first place. Putting the fish from her mind, she considered the implications of the ram¡¯s new disposition.


    If the statue can change that way, then who knows what else it might do? I bet I¡¯m about to find out why someone can¡¯t just come back here and grab up another source, even if it would be an almost impossible climb.


    She approached the statue, and despite her mental preparation felt a thrill of fear and excitement when the ram turned its head to follow her. The movement caused little shards of stone and powder to cascade to the floor, and made a groaning, creaking sound like ice being squeezed.


    She took a hasty step back and prepared for conflict, allowing her natural adrenal reaction to increase her heart rate. The ram didn¡¯t move, though its featureless black eyes conveyed a menace that made her shiver, just a little. The atmosphere in the room took on a palpable tension, and Lilijoy was struck by a strong sense that a dark force far beyond a simple statue was judging her through the ram¡¯s dark orbs. Judging her and finding her wanting.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The sensation brought back memories of the fiery cavern and the eldritch presence of the Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monsters. She had come a long way since that desperate scramble, but she couldn¡¯t shake the sensation that she was still nothing more than an ignorant gob girl, fragile and¡­ squishy, a bag of blood and meat.


    She shook her head and checked her system defenses for the subliminal effects of Charm. Finding none, she shrugged. Maybe it just is that scary. Or maybe¡­ On a hunch, she checked her soul vortex, and saw that it was¡­ responding to the environment, spinning out feelings from her past, feelings of fear and inadequacy, of vulnerability and mortality. It reminded her of what the ice mage Shiver had been trying to do to her team, only this was far more effective. This¡­ intent was a palpable pressure on her soul.


    She couldn¡¯t help but feel that it was a bit extreme as a deterrent. I guess the Inside, Nandi, the Archon, whoever, really doesn¡¯t want people helping themselves to the all-you-can-eat source buffet. The sensation of being a bug about to meet a windshield was strong, and growing stronger. If it weren¡¯t for her ability to spin up her own positive emotions, collected, woven and purified within her soul vortex, she thought she might have already turned and thrown herself out the window.


    Maybe it was the new earth source, feeding back a cycle of stubbornness and resiliency into her soul vortex, but she stood instead, leaning forward as if walking into a fierce storm, and began to walk toward the statue once more.


    You¡¯re not the only one who can be pigheaded, jerk, she thought toward Attaboy, thinking back over the past couple hours of her Outside experience.


    ***


    Two hours previous:


    Attaboy crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. He kicked his legs some more, and then sighed.


    Maybe it was a mistake to accelerate puberty, he thought. Maybe it was a mistake to accept that jerk¡¯s challenge. He considered this idea for a moment. Nah. It¡¯ll work out. It always does until it doesn¡¯t. I¡¯m done with being pushed around.


    His just slightly remote memories as Atticus, and his own memories of Pinton told him as much. You had to push back. Push back or let others dictate who you were, what you could be. This was his, or Atticus¡¯, second chance. Fear no one, live life on your own terms or die trying.


    Maybe I watched too much anime.


    <Ya think?> Djian chimed in.


    <Shut up> he thought, mostly amused by his alter-ego¡¯s comment. Djian had changed recently, and Attaboy wasn¡¯t sure whether it was his own awareness that the virtual presence in his head, the Djinn as his father had liked to call them, was really just his own neurocircuitry reflected and repurposed, or whether it was because he had outgrown the need for Djian¡¯s sage advice.


    <You¡¯ve barely outgrown the need for diapers> said Djian. <You desperately need adult supervision>


    <Hey there, tone it down> Attaboy replied. <What is this, the blind leading the blind?>


    <I have just as much access to Atticus as you do. You feel guilty about causing a situation and you¡¯re trying to rationalize your way out of it.>


    <Yeah> he said. <Lilijoy¡¯s really pissed at me. She hasn¡¯t looked at me once since Pineapple showed up.>


    <Don¡¯t forget Nykka>


    <Yeah. Shit.> He kicked his legs at the air some more, desperate for something to do besides wait in the stuffy receiving chamber where they¡¯d been stashed while the ¡®grown-ups¡¯ sorted things. He hadn¡¯t really thought through all the implications of the duel he¡¯d set up. How was he supposed to know that Walden Clan would get involved? To him, it was still beyond ridiculous that the last surviving chain of mega-stores had somehow mutated into a clan of robe-wearing dicks.


    I guess with enough money, you can even survive the apocalypse. I love how they kept their corporate colors. I wonder if they have a flag somewhere with that star symbol thing.


    Djian interrupted his thoughts. <You should use this time to cultivate, maybe work on your blood bugs. Your sister¡¯s kicking your butt, and she got her system months after you did.>


    Attaboy rolled his eyes. For some reason Djian had recently decided that goading him with Lilijoy¡¯s accomplishments was the best way to get him to cultivate. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t enjoy the process, once he got rolling. It was just hard to get started, hard to lose himself. It felt like a chore at times and the more pressure he put on himself to improve, to seize the obvious future in front of him, the more he felt his feet drag.


    Why can¡¯t I just have a training montage?


    The thing was, he remembered working hard in his previous life, working his butt off in fact, to meet his parents¡¯ expectations, and then to prove to everyone else that he deserved his position in his parents¡¯ organization. He didn¡¯t have memories past that first year as little more than a glorified intern, but he now knew how pointless it had been, in the end.


    This life was going to be different. No one, not Djian or even his sister, was going to tell him what to do.


    Finally, the door to the chamber opened and Nykka came in. He stood as she stalked over to him, stretching his height as best he could so she wouldn¡¯t be looking down at him.


    I¡¯ll be taller than her soon, he thought. Maybe she¡¯ll take me seriously then.


    <Or you could, I don¡¯t know, stop acting like an idiot.> Djian added.


    ¡°Do you have any idea...¡± Nykka began the process of evisceration ¡°...how much trouble you have caused?!¡± Her voice was¡­ not low. She continued for several minutes, excoriating him for his thoughtlessness, carelessness and general idiocy. He looked over at Lilijoy several times, vaguely surprised that she wasn¡¯t joining in the Attaboy hate-fest, but she had the glazed expression he had come to understand meant her attention was occupied by the Inside. He wasn¡¯t sure whether to be relieved that she was distracted, or disappointed he wasn¡¯t getting it all over with at once.


    He turned his attention back to Nykka once he realized she had finished lecturing him on his inadequacies and moved on to the good stuff.


    ¡°I secured you a private duel,¡± she was saying. ¡°Bokken, pads and points, judged by the Duel Tenders. They still think I have Sinaloa¡¯s backing and their own reputation to consider, so they¡¯ll be at least somewhat impartial.¡±


    Seriously? I don¡¯t even get to hurt him?


    His face must have betrayed his disappointment. ¡°I know, real baby stuff,¡± Nykka said her tone as disgusted as Attaboy felt. ¡°That¡¯s the point though. They want to make this as meaningless as possible, and so do we. Can¡¯t have Walden coming after us for retribution, not with things the way they are. You¡¯ve already put us on their radar in a big way. If you¡¯re smart...¡± her smirk upon saying this was telling, ¡°...you¡¯ll take a dive.¡±


    Attaboy shook his head. ¡°Then they¡¯ll think I¡¯m weak, which will be just as bad.¡±


    ¡°For you, maybe, maybe not. But for the rest of us?¡±


    He looked away, unable to meet her white eyes. ¡°I thought it was private anyway.¡±


    ¡°Private doesn¡¯t mean secret. The Duel Tenders will make the results public, you can be sure of that. It¡¯s good business for them, and it keeps the parties involved honest.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Their conversation was interrupted by the representative from the Duel Tenders.


    ¡°The arena is prepared, young man,¡± he said. His eyes scanned and assessed Attaboy with complete neutrality. ¡°Please follow me.¡±


    Lilijoy stirred from her near trance as Attaboy began to leave the room, offering him a tentative wave, before he was swept down a corridor and then down a wrought-iron spiral staircase. The staircase was located at the edge of another of the huge hexagonal chambers, this one filled with platforms of varying widths and heights. Attaboy could hear the sounds of combat drifting down from high above, and the sounds of cheering as well. He craned his head around, trying to see the action without falling, but the stairs spun him around tightly and the narrow steps descended quickly.


    There was nothing to see anyway, he concluded, after nearly falling into the man in front of him for the third time, but it sounded as if the entire space was used for duels and fighting, or training anyway, and though he could only see the metal frames supporting the platforms, he could imagine the epic struggles that took place in this setting every day, and it filled him with excitement.


    ¡°Do you guys run tournaments here?¡± he asked the man.


    ¡°We host, organize and publicize,¡± the man called over his shoulder. ¡°The Corp owns the space. Mind your step.¡± He hopped down from the final stair onto the floor. ¡°The measurements didn¡¯t quite work out for the staircase.¡±


    And you couldn¡¯t just build a platform? Attaboy thought as he jumped the final couple feet. He put all that from his mind as they passed through a double door into a large well-lit space with white walls and ceiling and a surprisingly springy wooden floor. There were two stations against opposite walls, each with a rack of wooden weapons, a bench, a bucket and a box of protective equipment.


    Across the way, his rival was already donning the pads, struggling with the various ties and straps.


    All right! he thought. Lets get this party started.


    ***


    When Lilijoy laid her hand on the red gem, the fire source, the room exploded into a frenzy. Before the tentacles on the ceiling had even made it halfway to her, the ram pulled itself out of the statue, or moved around the statue? Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure. What she did know is that the ram struck her before she had even gotten started on the process of bonding with the source and hurled her across the space to smash into the wall.


    Bug, meet windshield, I guess. Hey, where¡¯s my damage?


    She dismissed the lack of a health point notification as yet another quirk of the Trial Space. She didn¡¯t need one anyway, to know that she was already in trouble. The room writhed in slow motion, stuffed with the tentacles that had now burst forth from the ceiling in all their glory, with a great sound of grinding and scraping, a thousand stone claws scraping a giant blackboard in an echo chamber.


    Holy crap. How did Magpie navigate this in real time? she thought, beginning the process of dodging. The ram was still pursuing her across the few feet of distance between wall and statue, and with disgust she realized it was dragging something that looked an awful lot like intestines out of the mass of the statue, in lieu of the back half of its body. Everything was composed of the same black stone, which made it hard to see details. She was almost relieved to see the knobby tendrils of stone begin to move, writhing and pushing against the floor.


    Oh, it¡¯s just more tentacles, she thought for a moment, starting her leap over the tentacle currently sweeping toward her ankles. Oh wait. Nope, still intestines. Intesticles? Wait. That¡¯s even worse. Maybe tentestines?


    Whatever it was rolling and undulating behind the ram¡¯s front half, they were half dragging, half propelling the stone beast, which was also scrabbling along the floor toward her on its knobby front legs, a demented expression somewhere between lust and rage contorting its features as it struggled to reach her. It seemed utterly unconcerned by the more traditional tentacles sweeping the room, which were giving it wide berth.


    No, really Trial Space, don¡¯t hold back, she thought. Let me know how you really feel about someone coming back for seconds.


    With everything moving in slow motion, it was a bit difficult to judge their real speed, but she was pretty sure that she would never have been able to navigate the ever-moving maze of crushing and grasping stone while pursued by a demented ram-thing with flailing entrails if her Flash or her processing speed was any slower. After an agonizing five seconds of real time, well over a minute to her, in which she twisted, limboed and hopped her way across the room, she was able to slide under the mostly closed door leading to the stairs.


    She was heaving a great sigh of relief when the stone ram wedged its head under the door, throwing chips of gray stone over her, its jaw opening and closing with silent bleats, or possibly words in a demonic chant. Silently thankful for her lack of sheep lipreading skill, she pulled up a small wall to seal the space, enjoying the greatly reduced volume of grinding and screeching stone that followed.


    I¡¯m never going to see a partial statue the same way, she realized. After a few seconds to regain her composure, she headed down the steps to check on Lowly, sending a small trickle of mana back to maintain her tiny wall. Nothing had changed with the Labyrinthian¡¯s status, to her simultaneous relief and disappointment; the gooey blob of blood web still draped over the desiccated body of the little being.


    Lilijoy looked down on the sight for a moment, hands on hips.


    What am I going to do with you? I wish you would just go back in, if you even can.


    Then an idea struck.


    That¡¯s so stupid, it just might work.


    ***


    In the strange, fractured universe of spider memories, the essence entity formerly known as Lowly became aware of a disturbance, first as the connections and relationships between the strands, already blurred and distorted, proceeded to compress and mingle with even more fervor, and then as their limited sensory connection to their former reality altered, conveying movement and pressure.


    A sense of barely comprehensible familiarity tickled at the edges of their being, a connection that allowed for movement along a different plane, and the essence entity formerly known as Lowly moved along this new axis of freedom. Soon they recognized familiar halls and tunnels, and they rushed to fill and explore old haunts, pushing open the walls of the labyrinth as they went. They had little energy left, and the process sapped most of that which remained, but finally they reached it, the engine of movement, the chambers of propulsion. It was still and cold, and the entity took a moment to gather itself for one final burst of effort before sending the last of its power into a violent surge of initiation.


    Halting at first, then with gathering momentum, Lowly¡¯s heart began to beat.

 Book 3: Chapter 37: Contained

    Two men walked through an alley. The taller one¡¯s dark skin blended with the shadows; from time to time his bald head caught stray rays of light that had percolated down from glaring fixtures set high above and almost seemed to sparkle, as if his skin contained millions of tiny scales. The shorter man¡¯s skin was more on the pale side, though those same filtering beams revealed a green tint on his similarly hairless dome.


    ¡°This is a bad idea,¡± said Anda.


    ¡°Relax,¡± Mo replied, ¡°They¡¯re not so bad. Besides, it¡¯s not like your connections panned out. Beggars can¡¯t be choosers.¡±


    Anda was too busy stepping over what he hoped was garbage to give him a skeptical look.


    ¡°You seem very casual for a guy with no system. What about your bounties?¡±


    Mo waved him off. ¡°Old news. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ve lapsed by now. You¡¯re one to talk anyway; last I checked your clan was still offering top dollar.¡±


    ¡°Former clan,¡± Anda replied reflexively. ¡°That¡¯s for alive, intact and delivered. To Africa.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I remember. It was kind of a bummer when I saw that.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t blame a guy for checking all the angles. Just about everyone at the Crapper had some kind of price on them. Yours was way too inconvenient.¡±


    Anda stopped, and after a moment Mo did too.


    ¡°So what¡¯s your angle now, Mo? Still looking for that big payday?¡±


    Mo palmed the back of his head. ¡°Jesus, Anda. We¡¯ve been over this. I¡¯m not pretending that I¡¯m some kind of saint, but¡­ look. I was out of control, alright? My system screwed my head big time.¡±


    ¡°Your system,¡± Anda repeated, his tone dry.


    ¡°I made bad choices, and they piled up. Jesus, you know what I was saying. Being a Reprobate screws everyone.¡±


    ¡°So naturally, we¡¯re about to visit a whole nest of them...¡± Anda paused, considering. ¡°This is a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°You just said that.¡±


    ¡°Well it is.¡±


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s all transactional with these bastards. They¡¯ll want what you¡¯ve got more than some hypothetical payout.¡±


    ¡°But will they have what we need?¡±


    ¡°Guess we¡¯ll know soon.¡±


    They continued in silence for several minutes, driving deeper into the heart of the shadows from the great archology and the few harsh lights mounted high above. Decrepit five and six-story buildings loomed on either side, before they hit the cleared zone that marked the former shore of the Guayas River and began to follow the crumbling boardwalk there.


    ¡°Normally, I¡¯d say let me do the talking,¡± said Mo. ¡°But my¡­ hallucinatory friends are kind of bugging me out right now. Plus, I¡¯m not always so good with secrets.¡±


    Anda raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t say?¡±


    There were people around them now, furtive figures hurrying with heads down, small groups lingering in front of one building or another.


    ¡°You should see this place at night,¡± Mo added.


    ¡°There¡¯s a difference?¡± Anda asked finding it hard to imagine the mix of dark and light might be affected by the hypothetically remote sun.


    ¡°Depends a bit on the cycle, but yeah. That¡¯s when they bring in the batteries they charged all day, turn on the local lights. The clannies come out to get their jollies and everyone wears masks. It can get pretty crazy.¡±


    ¡°And your former associates live here all the time?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s got great reception, and you know, after a day of torching villages and slaughtering whoever the Corp wants slaughtered, a guys got to have a place to put his feet up. Most of the Reprobates find their way here eventually. Best to be around those who understand.¡± Mo shook his head, and Anda could see a complicated mix of regret and nostalgia cross his face.


    Anda shook his head at the thought. The Corp, and individual clans too, used the one-two punch of the Revered and the Reprobates to maintain their iron-fisted control of the Garden. Where the Revered spent years, decades even, maximizing their reputation with various Insider groups, the Reprobates did the opposite. They were the sacrificial lambs and the worst evil-doers at once.


    The Corp kept the Reprobates at a distance, Inside and Outside, as reputation was contagious, and there were¡­ side effects to committing atrocities as one¡¯s day job. There was no doubt that one needed a somewhat loose grasp on human decency to end up as a Reprobate in the first place, but those who lasted in the position were warped by the experience; either that or only the true psychopaths remained over time.


    The threat of the Reprobates coming to Academy town had been enough to send Mr. Sennit running for the hills, metaphorically speaking, enough to shut down cold the little group of promising crafters and merchants Anda had been training. There wasn¡¯t much point in putting down roots and setting up shop among the Insiders if all the non-tempered were killed and their shops and dwellings burned to the ground. Anda still wasn¡¯t sure if the Corp would have dared to follow through on its threat to send the Reprobates to Academy Town, but no one had wanted to find out.


    They passed among a cluster of long dead trees, little more than stumps, and then across the gravelled remains of an asphalt street to a broad stone building. A few bronze letters hung above a boarded entrance, a reminder of a distant era when the building had a function beyond serving as a lair to the Corp¡¯s least loved citizens. Least loved, but highly valued nonetheless.


    Mo hesitated at the entrance. ¡°Maybe this isn¡¯t such a good idea.¡±


    Anda glared at him. ¡°Seriously? Now is when you decide to have second thoughts?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, man. It¡¯s a lot, okay. Camazotz is getting in my face in a serious way here.¡±


    Anda rolled his eyes. ¡°It takes hallucinatory Mayan bat-demons to make you question the wisdom of this little jaunt?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s, like, my unconscious or some shit, alright? I¡¯m getting a bad feeling. Why do we need an airship so much anyway?¡±


    Anda sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t need to know that. Can he get one or not?¡±


    ¡°Kurtz can get one. He can get anything that¡¯s not explicitly forbidden by the Corp.¡±


    ¡°Then here we go,¡± Anda said. He pounded loudly on the boards.


    ***


    The wooden sword flew end over end through the air and clattered against the floor.


    ¡°Pick it up.¡± Attaboy said, pointing with his own bokken.


    Young Master Smith, known to Attaboy as Pineapple, was holding his right hand in his left.


    ¡°You broke my finger,¡± he whined through his mask.


    ¡°Would the young sir prefer to forfeit?¡± asked the judge.


    Pineapple shook his head, but Attaboy could tell his confidence was shattered, as well it should be. It turned out that the boy was even worse on the Outside, unaided by magi skill and Flash, and the bout had been a lesson in humility for the young clan member.


    It had been a lesson of a different kind for Attaboy. There was no competition here, barely a fight at all. His own work on the Inside had consolidated the inheritance from his previous life, martial arts skills to be sure, but also the knowledge of how to use the tools his system offered. His opponent was at least five years of training behind, and the differences in height and reach were nothing compared to that.


    What am I doing here, beating on this¡­ kid? It was a very Atticus-flavored thought, and Attaboy felt a now familiar wave of disorientation, of dislocation, sweep across his mind. There were times when he just wanted to go back to his apartment in the company housing, the first place he could call his own, and grab a bite to eat, maybe leftover pizza, before seeing if¡­


    The bokken connecting with the side of his helmet broke him from his reverie.


    <You¡¯re dissociating again> said Djian.


    ¡°Point!¡± called the judge.


    Attaboy stumbled back, ears ringing. For a moment the scene in front of him blurred. Is this even real? he wondered. Still he managed to intercept the next blow and the next.


    ¡°Not so tough now, are you maggot?¡± Pineapple jeered.


    Something in Attaboy snapped. He could feel his system working around the edges of his mind, trying to sooth the edges of his rage as his thoughts left the safe parameters. Two standard deviations from sanity, thought some random fragment of a narrative process in Atticus¡¯ voice.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    He struck, and it was for years of abuse at the Piles. He struck, and it was for the dawning realization that he had grown up next to the mobile corpses of his parents. He struck and it was for an entire world, an entire future lost, dissolved into a world where he was small, powerless, where nothing made sense to either of his memories.


    Then he was being pulled away, wooden sword ripped from his hands.


    ¡°Enough!¡± the judge roared, anger and panic warring in his voice. Already the door of the chamber was opening and people were running, and he caught a glimpse of Pineapple laid out on the floor before he was carried, unresisting, out of the chamber. In the relative darkness of the hall, he could still hear the gasping noises, still see the kicking legs.


    What have I done?


    ***


    Lilijoy watched Lowly cough up another chunk of web, still doubting the reality before her eyes. If I had known that would actually work, I might have been a bit more gentle, she mused. Stuffing the desiccated body with the web had taken a fair amount of strength on her part, and several minutes too. While she had been doing that unpleasant task, the grinding and pounding sounds from the chamber had abated, though she still maintained the low wall she had built to block off the space. She had only gotten about half the webbing down Lowly¡¯s throat before she had noticed his heart begin to beat.


    What does this mean? she wondered as she watched his skin continue to fill out and traced his rebirth with her Healing mana. Is he unique due to this strange set of events, Starcoil¡¯s and my interference, or are they all like this? Do they know what they are?


    ¡°Hello Lowly,¡± she said when he opened his eyes at last and stared up at her. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Strange,¡± he replied.


    ¡°I bet you are. That must have been-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he interrupted, pointing at her. ¡°Strange.¡± He then pointed at himself. ¡°I?¡±


    She blinked, processing the interaction. ¡°I¡¯m strange, and you are.. whatever you want to call yourself.¡±


    ¡°Spider?¡±


    ¡°If you want. I kind of got attached to Lowly, in my mind,¡± she replied, hoping they were in remotely the same conversation. He grunted in return, a sound that did nothing to tell her.


    Several seconds of silence passed before he spoke again.


    ¡°Where is Spider?¡±


    ¡°Far from here. She can¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t sure what he was agreeing with, but decided it would do for now. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I took you from your home without asking. Do you want to go back? Someday?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°There are no Rules here. I¡­ can move.¡±


    There are rules everywhere, Lilijoy thought. We carry them with us. But that¡¯s not what he means.


    ¡°What are the Rules you used to follow?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Keep, Stay, Obey.¡±


    ¡°Could you explain that a bit more?¡± she tried.


    ¡°Keep the Old Ones. Obey Horrible. Stay¡­ still. Separate.¡±


    ¡°What are the Old Ones? Your ancestors?¡±


    Lowly looked at her, his eyes wide with shock. Then he reached out and took her hand.


    ¡°Old Ones,¡± he said squeezing it with his fingertips, pinching her fingers individually. ¡°They stay. They last. Old.¡±


    Bones? Bodies? She thought she had the gist of what he meant. It wasn¡¯t easy, putting herself in his shoes. What¡¯s it like to be sentient blood? she wondered. What kind of world view does that create? I guess we all see our bodies as vehicles for our consciousness, in a way, but he takes it a few levels farther.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t allowed to leave the Old Ones. Shiver, Horrible, made you stay in their bodies,¡± she asserted, trying for some clarification.


    She didn¡¯t get it.


    ¡°No. Horrible Ruled. Measured.¡± He shook his head. ¡°The spider tried to Rule. Spiders Rule badly.¡±


    Every time he said ¡®Rule¡¯ he spoke it with a strange emphasis, as if the word contained great meaning. Rules are vessels for our behavior, she thought, trying to adopt a more fluid mindset. Perhaps a liquid being has a different sense of what it means to conform. We¡¯re all shaped by our environment, but they are literally ¡®shaped¡¯ by theirs. Her thoughts kept moving back to the vast pool of frozen blood they had found behind Horrible¡¯s throne. What happens when they aren¡¯t Ruled? she wondered. Or is it even ¡®they¡¯?


    Her curiosity was going into overdrive, and not just from the abstract fun of attempting the puzzle that was Lowly. She couldn¡¯t help but feel there were important ideas here for understanding her own mind, which could divide and flow as she needed, could separate and merge, could inhabit and diffuse through her swarm of insects.


    Maybe we¡¯re all more liquid than we think, mistaking the container for the essence. The difference is, most people never get a chance to differentiate the two. What would happen to Lowly¡¯s consciousness if he was divided, or united with another Labyrinthian, or added to the pool? Especially now that he¡¯s tempered, if he is?


    ¡°Lowly, are you tempered?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Tempered,¡± he repeated. ¡°Yes. I flow back on myself with many mind words now. Does Strange understand Nameless and Scan, and Charm and Affinity and Flash and--¡±


    Lilijoy broke in before he could finish listing all the various traits and attributes. ¡°Yes, I do. Except the Nameless thing. I bet that¡¯s a Title. Would you like me to explain them to you?¡±


    He nodded.


    This is going to be a very long conversation, she realized.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with names,¡± she said. ¡°You can call me Lilijoy.¡±


    ***


    Attaboy ran. No one was chasing him, not yet. He ran nonetheless, up stairs and across walkways, past flashing signs and vendors barking out their pitch, through groups of robed women and men. He ignored the stares and the murmurs of outrage left in his wake and ran until his lungs burned and he began to regret not spending just a little more time on his blood bugs.


    He wasn¡¯t sure why he was still running, and he certainly didn¡¯t know where he was going. It was something to do, escaping for its own sake, suppressing his thoughts with the need to dodge and weave around people half again his size.


    Eventually he stopped, leaning against a wall to catch his breath.


    I need to let the others know.


    He didn¡¯t know what would happen next. He didn¡¯t really know what had happened at all, if he had killed Pineapple, or just crushed his throat, after his first strike had cracked against the side of his knee, his second had dislodged a poorly secured helm and visor and his third had¡­


    Shit, he thought, replaying the memory. They are going to be pissed. For all definitions of ¡®they¡¯. What would Atticus do? Probably call Dad.


    He imagined somehow contacting Mooster and a mirthless chuckle escaped him. Maybe it won¡¯t be so bad. Accidents happen, right? Hopefully Pineapple just learned a very hard lesson, and his clan will hush it all up. Can¡¯t have it getting around that one of their favored sons was thrashed by a gob, he reassured himself. He probably has med bugs and blood bugs. We¡¯ll be long gone by the time they come after us.


    It took him a few tries, but finally, he composed and sent the messages he needed to send. They were text only; he had no intention of engaging in a real-time conversation with Lilijoy or Nykka.


    Let them cool down for a bit first. Though I should probably let them know where I am, he realized.


    Of course, for that to happen, he needed to know too. The halls were a bit quieter where he had ended up, and he noted that most of the foot traffic was headed one way. Everyone passing by looked just a little nicer, smelled just a little better. He smelled himself and winced.


    No way I¡¯m going to blend in with this crowd, he thought. Even if I wasn¡¯t a tiny mutant. Too bad we didn¡¯t get to the clothes shopping. I could really use a hooded robe about now. That and a shower.


    Knowing it was a lost cause to begin with, he started walking in the same direction as everyone else, trying his best not to stand out. No one yelled or pointed, so he took that as a win. As he did, he pulled up the local augsight overlay and found his location on the map.


    Looks like I¡¯m heading to the auction house.


    ***


    ¡°What!? That little...¡±


    Nykka¡¯s exclamation echoed Lilijoy¡¯s thoughts about the message she had just received from Attaboy. Guess that explains all the people running around the hallway for the past few minutes. All I want is to get an airship. Why did I let them drag me here for clothes, of all things?


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Maria.


    Nykka ignored her. ¡°This is bad,¡± she said to Lilijoy. ¡°There¡¯s no way they¡¯ll let us leave. The little jerk didn¡¯t even let us know in time to make a break for it.¡±


    If the situation weren¡¯t so serious, Lilijoy would have enjoyed the sight of Nykka¡¯s fury. She had never thought a human could turn that particular shade of purple. She then noticed Maria¡¯s fearful expression and took pity on her.


    ¡°Attaboy screwed up. He hurt, or maybe even killed the boy from Walden clan. Then he ran away. He¡¯s fine, for now, but...¡± she looked over at Nykka, ¡°I guess we¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t barge in here, at least not for the moment,¡± Nykka replied to her unasked question. ¡°But I guarantee there¡¯s already a whole squad waiting for us at every exit. They¡¯ll want to capture us, and sort things out with Sinaloa later. Which would be fine if...¡±


    ¡°If we actually had Sinaloa¡¯s backing. Oops.¡±


    ¡°We just better hope the boy isn¡¯t dead. They would kill you and Maria without a thought, Sinaloa or not. My status would protect me, but you can be sure there would be a hefty compensation required for my return. Even if I could call for reinforcements, Sinaloa doesn¡¯t have a tenth of the presence or pull that Walden does, not here anyway.¡±


    The gravity of the situation was still setting in, aided somewhat by Maria¡¯s muffled sobs.


    ¡°Ugh!¡± Nykka exclaimed. ¡°I wish my system worked on the other clans the way it does back home. I could make them see whatever I wanted, and we could just walk right out of here.¡±


    ¡°How long do you think we¡¯ll have before they force their way in?¡± Lilijoy asked, an idea dawning.


    ¡°Depends. If he lived, maybe an hour. If he died, maybe a few more minute before they decide to take a hit to the clan¡¯s reputation by violating the sanctity of a second-tier Duel Tender. Basically enough time for someone up the food chain to make the call.¡±


    ¡°Okay then,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Keep your fingers crossed. I might have a way out of this. A little present I¡¯ve had for ages and never used. Hopefully there¡¯s enough time to get it working.¡±


    ***


    ¡°If I could get hold of an airship,¡± the man was saying, ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I use it to ship your ass to Africa, Anda Kukata? Some good money just hanging there.¡±


    Kurtz was not what, or who, Anda had expected, and he was more than a little angry with Moe for the lack of warning. He was small, like Lilijoy small, with a misshapen head and heterochromic eyes. Anda wasn¡¯t looking down on him at the moment however, due to Kurtz¡¯s prosthetics, four long segmented legs that attached to, or really cradled, his shrunken lower body. Currently they were lifting him just above Anda¡¯s eye level, and he could hear them softly whining and whirring as they maintained balance.


    Anda considered Kurtz¡¯s question. ¡°A man like yourself doesn¡¯t need money, not anymore,¡± he said. ¡°You need the things that money can¡¯t buy. Or should I say, that your money won¡¯t buy. The Corp has you under their thumb. Wouldn¡¯t it be nice to have an¡­ alternate association?¡±


    Kurtz stared at him before braying a high-pitched laugh.


    ¡°Is this your pitch for Renaissance? Is that little club of bookworms finally growing a pair?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Oh man, you really are clueless. Things are locked in, locked down hard. Nothing¡¯s changing in this world ever again except the details.¡± His face hardened. ¡°But you aren¡¯t even pitching for Renaissance, are you? I bet they could get you an airship, if they really needed to.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Anda. ¡°I¡¯ve got something better now. I¡¯ve found the holy grail.¡±


    Kurtz brayed again. ¡°And you¡¯re talking to me? Come on, man, be serious.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m talking to you because you¡¯ve got nothing to gain from betraying me. I need an airship to get more.¡±


    ¡°And what does this holy grail do, exactly?¡±


    ¡°It can copy bugs. Give me a pill, I can double it. More, possibly. Get me a small sample and I¡¯ll give you a dose.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡± He drew out the word, pawing his chin with stubby fingers. ¡°Not quite holy. More like the pretty nice grail. The above average grail?¡±


    ¡°It all depends, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°That it does, friend, that it does. Sounds like a scam to me, though. A good way to get a quick hit of something nice from a sucker. Given the track record of the green idiot standing next to you, that¡¯s how I guess this plays out.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Mo protested. ¡°It¡¯s the real deal.¡±


    ¡°Mo, stop talking,¡± Anda requested. ¡°I can sweeten the deal, for now. Give me half a dose of something unusual... I don¡¯t want you thinking I just got more off the street somewhere. I¡¯ll throw in these bullets.¡± He pulled out a box of cartridges. ¡°Loaded with bugs that¡¯ll break through just about any synthetic material. Not cheap, not easy to find. Very useful in a pinch.¡±


    He placed the box on a nearby table. ¡°I¡¯m going into business, and you get to be in on the ground floor. Consider those a gift for your time. We¡¯ll hang around for a bit, see the sights, so you can test those, and get a sufficiently challenging sample to put me to the test. Then, if you want, we¡¯ll talk next steps.¡±


    Kurtz steepled his fingers. ¡°You may have earned yourself the right to a serious conversation, Kukata. I¡¯ll be in touch.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 38: Hive

    Junior District Manager for Security Concerns Williams watched as the manager for the second-rate Duel Tenders knocked on the door to the reception lounge.


    ¡°Miss,¡± he called out, ¡°we have other customers waiting. May I come in?¡±


    She signaled her subordinates, a handful of men and women clad in dark gray uniforms with a blue and yellow patch on their arms.


    <Hold position. Let them come to us. No lethal force.>


    She quickly checked the box her system provided, acknowledging that her orders had been delivered for a third time, as her team simultaneously sent their own notifications of receipt.


    There was no reply from within, and the manager turned to her with a helpless look. She glared back at him, and he turned back to the door.


    ¡°Miss, I¡¯m opening the door now. Please forgive the intrusion.¡±


    To William¡¯s mild surprise, the door opened easily when he pushed on it. She had half expected their targets to have blocked the opening with furniture, or something similar.


    ¡°Hello?¡± the manager called out peering into the room. There was a moment of tension, before the man took a step back and turned to her. ¡°It¡­ appears to be empty,¡± he said.


    Williams suppressed the flood of irritation she felt at the man¡¯s operational incompetence. With a gesture, she sent the two forward members of her team to investigate the space, bookmarking the moment on her sensory stream for the inevitable debriefing.


    ¡°Clear!¡± came two reports in short order.


    She turned to the manager, filling out the ¡®Request for Authorization to Interrogate Unaffiliated/Associate-Level Individual within Corp Jurisdiction¡¯ as she did.


    ***


    Crouching in the corner of the reception lounge, Lilijoy was kicking herself for dismissing Marcus¡¯ custom bugs so easily in the past. True, she had studied them, replicated enough to use and played with them a bit within the boundaries of her own mind. But it wasn¡¯t until she saw them in action, watched the truly brilliant way they manipulated the universally inherent augsight capabilities of systems by emulating and then piggybacking on the local broadcast signals, that she truly appreciated the old alchemist¡¯s creation.


    With effort, she could do much the same with the general capabilities of the Tao System, but Marcus¡¯ bugs made a great case for specialization. When combined with the rest of her system though, she thought she could do things Marcus had never anticipated. As she understood it, Marcus had needed to spend large amounts of time understanding and seeding the environment he wished to control. Lilijoy had her midges and their senses to help her understand and replace her environment in real time, the vast power of her system to convert her desired sensory signals into the correct format, and then Marcus¡¯ bugs to deliver it as a final step.


    The only, possibly fatal, flaw was if someone had their augsight turned off completely. That hadn¡¯t been a concern for her just now though, when the Walden security team entered the room. She had been watching them for some time through her airborne armada, and had already seeded them with small amounts of her system, just enough to know their settings and snoop in their communications. Unlike Sinaloa¡¯s Suenos System, the system used by the Walden clan associates was wide open to her. Their communications were encrypted, which mattered not at all, since she could see them before they were sent.


    She was amused, and appalled, by the sheer amount of forms and checklists they were each completing at ever step of the operation. Unfortunately, their orders didn¡¯t have any information about the reason she and the others were to be apprehended, nor the fate of Pineapple.


    The ease with which she could penetrate their systems and even coopt their sight and hearing through augsight made her wonder if her best strategy might not be to stay within the archology and gradually infiltrate Walden until she could steal an airship from them. When she ran the numbers in her head though, the size of the task was daunting. It was one thing to subvert a single squad, to control the augsight signals in a single room, but she would quickly become overextended if she overreached. All it would take was one Associate who hated augsight, or clan members with more secure systems, and her plot would unravel and put everyone in danger.


    No, she decided. Let Attaboy be the irresponsible idiot on the team. I need about ten times as many people with ten times as many bugs to make any real move at this point. Our single biggest advantage is that no one knows what I can do, and this is not the time to ruin that. I need to be¡­ subtle.


    The next problem was how to leave, both their current location and the archology. She had no doubt that Walden associates were scouring the area for people matching their description, and neither she nor Nykka could possibly blend into the crowd. She could move her sensory domain with them, to a limited extent, though they would need to avoid the larger open spaces. Her ability to supplant the augsight signals required a certain degree of environmental saturation, and she thought that observers more than twenty feet away would certainly detect them. Her swarm gave her some control over this, with their ability to relay the signals, but she needed to be careful to keep the swarm itself hidden as well.


    <We¡¯re safe for now> she sent to the others. <Thoughts?>


    She included Maria in the message, though she wasn¡¯t entirely sure the woman knew how to reply, or if her system, debased and corrupted by design as it was, was even capable of such.


    <I¡¯m going to kill Attaboy?> Nykka replied. <That¡¯s my primary thought at the moment. I¡¯ve been studying the publicly available layout of this place. It¡¯s weird, like they adapted something from the Inside that wasn¡¯t built for humans. The next chamber over is full of small arenas. Attaboy is still lurking around the Auction Houses chamber, which is close to the center.>


    <I keep thinking it¡¯s some kind of hive, on the inside anyway,> Lilijoy agreed. <These chambers are so tall¡­ they would make more sense if everyone could fly.>She sent Nykka a map of her own. <This is the area I can see right now. I¡¯ve marked all the Walden people I know about. I¡¯ll keep updating it every couple seconds for you.>


    The map she sent wasn¡¯t a tenth of what she could if she had her whole swarm with her. A few thousand midges didn¡¯t go very far. The only upside was that she didn¡¯t need to consider hiding the full extent of her capabilities from Nykka.


    <Wow. That¡¯s useful.> Nykka replied. <Looks like we could sneak out of this room, but that¡¯s about it.>


    <Yeah. I think we have to wait until they move on from here. Shouldn¡¯t take them too long to finish searching the place.>


    It appeared that the Duel Tender had relinquished whatever degree of sovereignty they might have claimed, in the interest of staying on Walden¡¯s good side. They had closed their doors, and the patrol was systematically going through the little complex room by room. Lilijoy had no problem with waiting. Boredom wasn¡¯t part of her reality, and her system could defer any bodily needs indefinitely. She was a little worried about Maria though.


    When she checked in with the Tao System elements she had placed in the young woman¡¯s body, she was even more worried. Maria was terrified, shaking and muttering some kind of prayers under her breath. Lilijoy quickly adjusted the young woman''s brain chemistry to quell the worst of it, and then slowly made her way to the corner of the room where she huddled in fetal position.


    <It¡¯s going to be okay> she sent, taking her hand. Maria whimpered in reply.


    <Do you know how to reply to the messages you keep hearing or seeing?> Lilijoy asked.


    She received a furtive head shake in response.


    <That¡¯s okay. I¡¯m going to make a meeting space for us. It will be like when you were in the dream, in the forest, only much nicer, I promise.>


    It was a matter of seconds to intercept Maria¡¯s senses and bring her to to a sunny meadow environment that Lilijoy sometimes used. She thought it would be better for Maria than the forest that she herself preferred, given her experiences as a gatherer in Averdale.


    ¡°Whadya think? It¡¯s kind of like the Trial, but no bees.¡± Lilijoy said.


    Maria looked around, shading her eyes against the sun. ¡°My first dream,¡± she said. ¡°Mo has tried to explain all of this to me, this¡­ magic with tiny machines, gods upon gods, worlds within worlds. He told me the truth about his dark past, and the demons that still haunt him, even after you broke their hold upon his mind.¡± She looked at Lilijoy, still shading her eyes. ¡°You bring me to this world so easily, like it¡¯s nothing, and I should be afraid, but you take away my fear. Even the High Lady of Sinaloa defers to you.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how to respond. She could feel Maria¡¯s unasked questions, the same questions everyone had when their lives were shaped by forces they didn¡¯t understand, forces they could not control. The same questions she had asked herself over and over with each new layer of mystery and understanding on her own journey.


    ¡°You want to understand why,¡± she said. ¡°Why you have been swept up in all of these happenings.¡± Maria watched her with wide eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not a god, you know, just a girl. Not too many months ago I knew less than you about the world. I was weaker in every way. Now I¡¯m¡­¡± she hesitated, unsure what to say, uncomfortable with Maria¡¯s worshipful attention. ¡°I¡¯m still figuring it out. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever stop.¡± She turned away and watched a butterfly, enjoying its movement even though she knew it was following a subroutine buried deep within her own processing.


    ¡°Would you like to figure it out together?¡± she asked at last.


    ***


    Everybody hates me now, thought Attaboy. He wedged himself back into the small nook he had found, an odd indentation running from floor to ceiling just after a junction of two halls on the way to the auction. Virtually everyone was moving past him, into the auction area, and no one had looked back to see the ragged boy, or if they had, no one had been inclined to do anything about his presence.


    This was a marked improvement from his treatment only a few minutes earlier, when he had tried to move with the crowds and enter the auction zone. Then, a stone-faced man had intercepted his progress, grabbed him by the back of his robes and hurled him back down the hall, to the surprised laughter of the onlookers. The man had yelled something after him, but Attaboy had been too busy orienting himself in the air and then rolling along the floor to hear what it was.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He doubted it was anything he needed to hear anyway.


    Unharmed, but humiliated, he had pushed along the wall until he found his little island of semi-anonymous shelter. There, he had little to do but alternate between impotent anger and profound regret, with occasional bouts of anxiety about his own mental state.


    Damn it! What the hell was I thinking? What happened back there?


    For weeks now, he had been plagued by the sense that none of this was real. Mostly, it simmered in the background, at times leaving his consciousness entirely, but there were times where it roared into his awareness with a vengeance, a dizzying phantasmagoria of surreal detachment. When that occurred, he couldn¡¯t tell who was thinking his thoughts, couldn¡¯t differentiate between his various sensory inputs and imagination, between memory and perception. During these episodes, his body continued behaving normally, his mouth could form the expected words in conversation, but it didn¡¯t feel like it was him.


    Djian kept him centered, to some extent, his system working overtime to renormalize his neurochemistry and dispel any lingering effects. Attaboy tried his best to contain the memories of his previous life, to stay in the present. But it wasn¡¯t always enough.


    Ironically, the problem was much stronger on the Outside. It seemed the Inside was a place all parts of him could agree upon; it was supposed to be fantastic, surreal and disorienting at times. But the Outside? There lay the constant torment of reminders of a world long passed, a world that should not, could not be.


    He had taken to retreating to his Soul Space when he could, furnishing it with comforts and reminders of his previous life. A couch, an old fashioned two-dimensional screen and memories from his first childhood were arrayed in a domed structure much like the one he and his parents had moved to when he was ten. He knew he was clinging to the childhood memories he much preferred over those from Night¡¯s Safety and the Piles.


    He couldn¡¯t help wondering just how Lilijoy had used her Soul Space. The topic had never come up, partly because he was too embarrassed to admit what he had done with his.


    Damn it! he thought again, stomping on the floor of the little alcove, unable to contain his frustration with himself, with reality.


    There was a hollow cracking sound, a sense of give that traveled up his leg.


    Now that¡¯s interesting, he thought. Looking down, he saw that the floor beneath him had visible cracks, that the material he had assumed was a type of synthetic stone was only a thin layer over empty space.


    Just what is it with this place? Stairs that don¡¯t fit and random holes that have been patched over?


    He shrugged inwardly and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed him breaking the floor of the Corps¡¯ continental headquarters. As before, people strolled past, their backs to him. No one had any reason to turn away from the tasks and activities that beckoned in the auction zone. He looked up, and wasn¡¯t surprised to see a hexagonal hole on the ceiling, three of its sides forming the alcove in which he stood.


    It must be some kind of ventilation shaft, he decided. Maybe something they built and then realized they didn¡¯t need. I wonder where it goes?


    Grateful for a distraction from his ongoing mental crisis, he decided to find out.


    ***


    It was difficult for Lilijoy to tell how much Lowly understood as she tried to teach him. Heck, it was difficult for her to tell how much she understood. Not only was his frame of reference disorienting to her, but his character sheet, if it could even be called such, wasn¡¯t anything like hers. She knew from many conversations with her friends that Insiders had a much different internal experience when it it came to their personal quantification, but Lowly had different traits, or possibly different sets of traits, that he didn¡¯t or couldn¡¯t, differentiate for her.


    I suppose it makes sense, she thought. He¡¯s sort of a two in one, or a one in two. His body and his essence-self mingle, and I¡¯m not sure he fully understands which is which.


    The truly notable qualities were an exceptional Water Affinity, and his Nameless title. The affinity for the water element wasn¡¯t much of a surprise, she supposed. When he, after much explanation and cajoling, had tried to show her his character sheet, she had received not words and numbers, but something more like a series of cross-linked containers of varying sizes and flexibilities that flowed and rearranged themselves as she watched.


    After observing it for some time with her system in full gear, she was able to get an¡­ adequate feeling for what the containers represented. Most of them anyway. There was a natural trait for something like elasticity and viscosity combined, in addition to the usual four. His Charm containers were tiny, shriveled things, which made her wonder if they could inflate, while his Fire Affinity, also tiny, was little more than a fixed stub of a bulb. In comparison, his Water Affinity was enormous, dominating all the other traits.


    We¡¯ve got to find him a water source, she thought. Or maybe he already has one? Is one?


    The main takeaway for her was that Lowly would benefit most with serious help from Insiders who knew a great deal more than she did. She remembered the amazing diversity of forms and species among the Academy faculty, and realized that she had to get Lowly there. Thanks to his Nameless title, which apparently rendered him immune to Charm and Scan, she was only moderately worried he would end up the victim of the same kind of mysterious Academy machinations as Jess.


    I never did find out what that was all about, she realized. I wonder if Master Rosemallow would be willing to explain it now?


    In the meantime, she did her best to explain how her character sheet worked, along the way introducing such ''esoteric'' topics as written symbols, language and the fact that there were such things as Skills and Abilities that one could learn. She was sure Lowly must have a Skill list buried somewhere, but he had no idea where to find it, a disappointment to be sure, as she had been looking forward to seeing just what kind of weird skills and abilities a being like Lowly might possess.


    ¡°What do you want to do now? Would you like to see what the surface world is like?¡± she asked, when it was clear that Lowly had reached his capacity for new intellectual concepts.


    ¡°I saw the blue roof in the spider¡¯s world, in the time after exile,¡± he replied. ¡°It hurt my thoughts.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s a ¡®no¡¯?¡±


    Lowly hunched into himself and shivered, which seemed to be all the reply she was going to get.


    ¡°Do you want to stay here for now? I wouldn¡¯t go up the stairs if I were you, but you can explore the rest of the caves. I need to get back to my friends, but they¡¯re on the surface, so I can¡¯t stay here any longer.¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°All right. I¡¯ll come back in a couple days. Don¡¯t go so deep I can¡¯t find you. Oh, and you might want to avoid the hot caves. They have many creatures that will try to eat you.¡±


    Since he was tempered now, she was less worried for him, but she still didn¡¯t want him to get killed over and over. Lowly nodded again, and with a last wave, she pulled herself to a new location within the Trial Space.


    She had decided to delay further attempts on the fire source until she was a bit better equipped to hold off the ram and tentacles, which left her with two theories she wanted to explore before resorting to another respawn. Leaving the Trial Space without dying was her goal, and it seemed to her that the best places to look for a solution were at the beginning and end of her own Trial experience.


    She appeared at the broken gate of Fort Groveship. The charred remains of the broken furniture were still visible through the outer portcullis, but her goal wasn¡¯t in the Fort.


    I wonder where all the kids went? she thought as she made her way through the dense patch of brambles where she had been when the Trial ended. It was a small mystery left over from her Trial. Though she had searched the human town, she had never found any sign of Toad, or Golden, or Andrew, or any of the children who she had met and fought beside in the last phase of her Trial. She imagined that they must have vanished back into the mind of Guardian, to be eternally recycled for a million other Trials. She found this notion terribly sad, but there wasn¡¯t anything she could do about it.


    She found the spot without much difficulty, the small open area under the spreading branches of the thorn bush. Not entirely sure what she was hoping to find, she sat and closed her eyes, expanding her mana senses in meditation, looking for something, some fluctuation indicating a lingering presence of her previous exit.


    The birds sang, the wind rustled and the natural mana of the area swirled gently. It was peaceful, idyllic really, and she was almost reluctant to give up when it became clear that there was no residual sign that might provide an alternate exit from this space.


    Oh well, on to the next idea, she decided. Let¡¯s try the beginning.


    She struggled just a bit to summon her diamond energy, and realized that she was a little apprehensive about returning to the place she had taken her first steps in the trial. It was a vague feeling, one that she couldn¡¯t explain. Through her Trial sight, she could see the jasmine and wisteria draped arbor and the dark wooden door within, but beyond the door¡­ nothing.


    In the end, she found a compromise within herself, a return to the location, but a different goal.


    ¡°Hello, bees!¡± she announced, once she had made the spatial transition. ¡°Remember me?¡±


    There were only a few bees around her, harvesting nectar from the coneflowers and daisies of the meadow. They seemed to ignore her presence, while she fought off a mild sense of vertigo brought on by being in two very similar places at once, her meadow, where she was still talking with Maria, and the Trial meadow she had modeled it on.


    I¡¯m going to need to come up with a whole new set of terms to describe these sensations. Maybe plusieur vu? I wonder if Maria will be the first person I share them with, or if Attaboy will get his act together. Or maybe Anda will decide to pursue Stage Two after all, once we get to Taos.


    More bees gathered as she mused, behaving much as they did her first time through, though none of them chose to sting her. Their buzzing thickened the air as they arrived and gathered around her, vibrating her skin as they landed and began to explore her skin.


    This tickles even more than I remembered, she thought as the bees crawled over her face. When the time felt right, she activated Two Minds One Self, and fell into communion with the swarm.


    We explore, we gather, we defend, they thought. We keep, we hoard and we dance.


    In another world, a far-off land as close as her heart, she turned to Maria.


    ¡°Give me a minute,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m talking to bees.¡±


    She immersed herself further in the collective entity, the literal hive-mind, that covered her body, putting away her selfish goal of obtaining more of the miraculous honey she had once been gifted. There was something deeper here. She remembered the older Emily¡¯s words gifted her by Shadow.


    It¡¯s a shame the flowers have been giving a soliloquy for the past century, the older woman had said. Their conversation partners are long gone. Now the conversation only exists across time, much like ours, my dear. Only momentum remains, the residue of past motivation. It¡¯s why the bees are there, in the Trial, you know. Very few Outsiders can pass their test. I wonder how you did?


    She wondered that too.


    She poured herself into all that was common between her and the bees. Their mind contained multitudes, roles and motivations shifting in dizzying spirals. Elemental joys of exploring, finding, gathering, fierce determination to defend, to preserve and something more.


    We keep. We hoard. We protect. For the future, we sustain.


    And then their shared consciousness, the primal motivations of the hive and the narrative powers of Lilijoy¡¯s mind found a new synchrony and she understood. What they kept was not honey, what they preserved was not food to sustain the next generation. There was a deeper purpose in their presence, in their being, and what they were sustaining and guarding was¡­ themselves, massive data structures that contained everything it was to be a bee, in a dazzling array of diversity and forms. A vast trove of data where a genome was a single point in a multi-dimensional space of bee-ness, expanding outward in dimensions of time and evolution, of variation and speciation, where the distant edges overlapped with planes of existence that were no longer ¡®bee¡¯.


    Why didn¡¯t she just tell me? Lilijoy thought of Emily as she returned to herself. It¡¯s not just the bees. It¡¯s everything. Is this the Inside¡¯s true purpose?


    Even as she had the thought, she knew she was wrong, thinking like a human. There was no ¡®true purpose¡¯ in anything. Everything connected to Guardian had a vast geometry of potential purposes, an architecture of meaning, and she was only capable of looking at a single room, or perhaps a single beam. But the piece, the element of Guardian¡¯s mind she could see now was beautiful to her, a beacon of hope after so much confusion and ugliness.


    The Inside is an Ark, a bank of all that has been lost on the Outside, just waiting for the right time. And perhaps the right person.


    She opened her eyes and looked at Maria.


    ¡°What are bees, and how do you talk to them?¡± the young woman asked.


    She must not have even had that context when she started the Trial, Lilijoy realized. Or maybe Sinaloa manipulated her system so that she wasn¡¯t very present during those experiences.


    She opened her hand and showed Maria the fuzzy striped form she had just created, its wings already flickering toward flight.


    ¡°This is a type of honeybee called a queen,¡± she said. ¡°Someday, we will bring her back with us to the Outside.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 39: Storage

    In the end, Lilijoy got some honey from the bees too. She wasn¡¯t able to evaluate it fully, not with her Trial Space¡¯s frustrating lack of cooperation in displaying stats and other attributes for many items and beings, but it was still delicious, and filled her body with an abundance of healing mana. It took more willpower than it should have for her to tuck the excess in her inventory for later evaluation.


    On the Outside, she continued to distract Maria from their forced stay in the reception area of the Duel Tenders. When she had given Anda the Tao System, she had no choice but to give him the Stage Two components necessary for cultivation. At the time, she hadn¡¯t known any better either. It was only after conversations with Attaboy, who could draw on his memories as Atticus, that she learned that Stage One was usually introduced by a series of injections, and that the addition of initial Stage Two elements and cultivation came much later in the sequence.


    In Maria¡¯s case, she could supply Stage One gradually and guide the initial establishment of the Tao System, supplanting Suenos over time. Lilijoy and Maria had decided that the first place to start would be her connections to outside signals, since that aspect of Suenos, the version in Maria¡¯s brain anyway, was heavily corrupted. This would give Maria access to the internet archive, and with that the young woman would be able to begin guiding her own education.


    All of that was a nice distraction as Lilijoy forced herself to walk in the shade of the flowering arbor, approaching the dark wooden door through a rich perfume of jasmine. She felt a definite sense of disapproval from the door, a sense of being watched. It wasn¡¯t nearly as ominous or severe as what she had felt in the source chamber, but it still forced her to exercise her own soul vortex as her steps brought the door ever closer. She hoped it was a general emotional field, intended to keep nervous Trial participants from turning back or from wasting their time cowering by the entrance, rather than something targeting her specifically.


    She forced her feet forward, each step carrying more weight, a heaviness of spirit that sought out memories of shame, of tasks left incomplete, agreements abandoned, promises unfulfilled.


    It¡¯s regret, she understood. What a horrible and powerful path that would be to cultivate.


    Fortunately for her, she carried little of that particular emotion. Regret, she thought with the remote assurance of the young, needed the passage of time to sink its claws into its victims. Even so, the faint resonance with all she had yet to accomplish left an unpleasant hollow in her gut.


    And then she stood in front of the wood, smooth, neither paneled nor ornamented. No handle adorned it to push or pull, no knob to turn or twist. It radiated, or reflected, contempt for those who would abandon their purpose, and when she touched it, grazed it with her fingertips it felt cold and unforgiving.


    I abandoned Lowly, she thought. I left my friends behind. What happened to my forest vow, or my weaving? I¡¯m no closer to finding Echelon, and I didn¡¯t even try, giving up on the memories in the Library half-way. Magpie¡­ I don¡¯t know where she is, what she¡¯s doing. I left her to wallow in her own guilt, shunned her when she had the strength to betray her heritage on my behalf. I¡¯m leaving a string of unfinished tasks in my wake, and soon Guardian is coming for Attaboy, or maybe me, and I will pay for all I have left incomplete, for always focusing on the next new and shiny bauble.


    That is the price of my path.


    She shook her head, surprised to find herself slumped at the bottom of the door.


    Oh, come on. I¡¯m only twelve. Thirteen. Something. I grew up in radioactive squalor, she told herself. But I have the power to change the world, and what am I doing with it? I have the written thoughts of generations in my memories and how do I use them?


    She found herself in an internal battle, not of will, but of perspective. The facts were constant, but their meaning revolved, a circular treadmill of reframing that canceled her spinning diamond energy and recast it as a weakness.


    Anything, everything falls short when measured against all it is not, she realized. Including me. That is the power of regret. For every book read, there are a thousand on the shelf. For every friend made there are a million strangers. Every creation is defined by the sacrifice of all that could have been, and the artist is one that flays the possibilities, murders the potential and chooses what idea shall live.


    With that thought, the pressure of intent abated, for it also contained the truth, that regret was just another word for the space that defined the cup. To put one¡¯s energies there was to attack the void, which could never care nor recognize the energies expended upon it.


    She thought back to her brief encounter in the Labyrinth with Shadow. He said he was a better opposite for me than Rosemallow, which is already an interesting notion of who should train who. It seems to me that regret is my true opposite though, focused backward on all that is not, rather than forward on all that could be. Or maybe that was his point?


    Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound, a small click from the door. It swung inward when she pushed on it.


    ***


    Once Attaboy got to the top of his little alcove and into the enclosed shaft, the going got much easier.


    It¡¯s amazing how oblivious people are when their attention is forward, he thought. Good thing too. He had decided that breaking the floor completely in order to go down would cause more problems than it was worth, especially since he was trying to keep a low profile. Going up took far more effort, and a few attempts ended in controlled slides back down to the floor. Thankfully, no one noticed his squealing palms and feet as he descended, and a simple command to his system closed his sweat glands and allowed him the necessary traction to make his way back up, pressing on the slanted surfaces on either side.


    Once he was in the shaft itself, it was just large enough for him to maintain friction with the sides. Were he any bigger, he might still be able to fit, but he would have slid back out immediately. Thankfully, after a few feet of worming his way upward, the shaft began to curve, following some arched contour of the larger structure.


    Now this is more like it, he thought. No one is going to find me here.


    The complete absence of light bothered him a little, as his echolocation wasn¡¯t great, and his thermal vision seemed entirely useless to sort out the vague gradients of heat present in the narrow shaft. That didn¡¯t keep him from pressing forward though, and it wasn¡¯t long before he began to hear sounds, a mixture of indistinct rumbles that merged with the faint flow of air over his ears.


    After a few more minutes of progress, the sounds had resolved into voices, too low to make out words at first. Slowly, Attaboy inches forward, and as he did, his system began to make sense of the scattered sounds bouncing to him along the shaft.


    ¡°Seventeen, I have seventeen from the esteemed Brasa Associate, do I hear eighteen?¡±


    It¡¯s the auction, he realized. An auction anyway. He moved closer, hoping to get a look, but found his way blocked by a thin barrier of synthetic stone. He had passed several branches to the narrow shaft some ways back, always taking the lowest to the right, but he decided to stay and listen for a bit. He had some time to kill after all. He was looking forward to hearing of powerful weapons and armor, perhaps rare ingredients from the Inside, or other treasures changing hand.


    This was not that auction. After fifteen minutes of listening to bidding for such mysterious items as Lot 201a, which turned out to be twenty-two pairs of water-resistant boots, and 201b, again, more boots, and of course 201c, still more boots, Attaboy made a sound of disgust and began the awkward process of backing down, or really up, the shaft.


    Of course these are the boring auctions, he thought. I should have gone up. The good stuff is always at the top.


    Determined to find something at least a little more interesting, he reversed until the first intersection and began to head higher whenever possible. The shaft, which he had thought might be an air duct of some kind, didn¡¯t behave like any air duct he had heard of before. It meandered, curving, rising and dipping like an over-long serpent. Along the way, he found two more auctions, one which seemed to be distributing lots comprised of low-end pills, blood bugs, entry level systems and the like, and another that seemed to be for plots of land, whether Inside or Outside he couldn¡¯t tell.


    Overall, his takeaway was that auctions were far more boring than he had ever imagined, and honestly, he felt a bit cheated in some nebulous way. He also passed several openings not unlike the one by which he had gained entry to this strange warren of wriggling tunnels, but they all seemed to lead to places with a fair amount of foot traffic.


    He checked in with the others periodically, by text, since he was still too afraid to confront their judgment. The fact that they weren¡¯t exactly knocking down his mental doors to harangue him somehow made him feel worse. They were on the move, evidently, but only moving as fast as they could maintain their cover, headed for the auction center. Nykka had decided that would be the best destination, not only on account of Attaboy, but because the auction center was somehow even more neutral than the rest of the arcology, and Walden wouldn¡¯t dare to make a fuss there.


    It had, however, been made utterly clear to Attaboy that he was to remain in hiding. Nykka thought Walden might consider taking him out worth the repercussions. Still the shaft was beginning to feel confining, and the skin on his knees and elbows was rubbed raw, so when he saw a shaft into a dark room of some kind, he breathed a sigh of relief.


    After confirming the existence of a floor, and furniture of some kind with his echolocation, Attaboy dropped down. The fall was short, but painful, as he encountered the corners and edges of stacked crates in what became a rolling tumble. He finally stopped, draped head down and limbs akimbo, with just enough thoughts left in his head to wonder how much noise he had just made, and whether anyone would come to investigate.


    After a few seconds, his system reported the good news that his damage was limited to bruises and a small gash on his forehead, and he summoned enough focus to clamber to an open space of floor.


    Must be a storage room, he managed to think. I wonder if there¡¯s a light switch?You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Motionless, he waited for several minutes before exploring further, gently clicking his tongue to try and make sense of the pyramids of stacked crates and perhaps find a door. He couldn¡¯t help but experience a surge of irritation at his Inside advisor, Dean Reunification.


    If the old windbag would just let me take some of the Stealth courses, I¡¯d be so much better at this. I can¡¯t believe she actually thought being bad at sneaking around would keep me out of trouble.


    It was while he was doing this that he realized there might be a better way. A quick scan of the ambient signals told him there was a moderately encrypted augsight overlay available, and after the minutes necessary to gain access to the sensory stream, the room filled with tags, labels and other information hovering over each crate in white letters. Every box had the same message attached.


    Corp Embargoed Materials


    Former property of Caribe Clan


    Do Not Open


    Now this is getting interesting, he thought.


    ***


    Inches ajar, the door beckoned.


    Lilijoy remained seated, her mind still awhirl with the feelings stimulated by her internal battle. In the absence of the pressure of regretful intent, she could think clearly, and she had much to consider.


    That was a test, wasn''t it? For me or for anyone? she wondered. If I didn¡¯t have my soul vortex, I couldn¡¯t have even taken it, I don¡¯t think. Could anyone?


    She felt the lure of answers from behind the door, felt her diamond energies spinning in anticipation, but she resisted, containing them with a thin shell of the regret she would feel if she didn¡¯t take a moment to consolidate the experience.


    I have a soul space, like an Insider, where I can build a foundation, sort and understand my experiences, manipulate and relate to them in ways most Outsiders can¡¯t. It allows me to draw strength from them and also gives me a defense against these external intents I keep running into.


    She replayed one of the rare pieces of instructions she had received from Rosemallow


    ¡°Steps, Stages and Milestones are formed along the Path, built out of foundation, consolidation and purification, then reciprocation, projection and absorption. Each Path uses these building blocks, and others, differently, in different orders and different proportions. There are strong paths and weak paths, dead-ends, and everything in between. Pretty much everyone agrees that a strong foundation is necessary to support further development, but after that¡­ well, let¡¯s just say it gets messy,¡± her trainer had said.


    She was level twenty-seven now, more than halfway to a complete foundation. She didn¡¯t know if what she had would be considered a good foundation, but from the way Anaskafius and Rosemallow talked about it, it seemed as if quantity was still more important than quality for a while yet. She was still gathering materials, sorting them, understanding them.


    She had begun to specialize, to refine and choose before she had assembled the whole, and she still wasn¡¯t sure what repercussions this might entail. It seemed to her that ¡®foundation¡¯ was a loose metaphor at best for the process, but it was the one everyone used. She was beginning to think of it as more of a warehouse; the better she understood and organized the contents, the easier it would be for her to create the structure that would be her path.


    The foundation shapes the path, but the path shapes the foundation. There is no permanence here. Everything flows and turns on itself. I can shape and contain joyful anticipation with regret, build coherent structures, architectures of emotion. It¡¯s what happens naturally anyway. The castle of the self is one such structure. It seems my path will be another.


    She pushed the door open.


    Beyond was not the simple room with four doors that had led her to her Trial Space so long ago. Looking ahead, she could only see a kaleidoscope of pastel iridescence, as if diamond energy were contained in shifting braids of mother-of-pearl. Her depth perception refused to cooperate, and she couldn¡¯t tell if what was before her was a flat surface, or a distant vista.


    She took a step forward, entering the space, if it could be called a space. The colors, the light condensed, rotating into a thousand spiral galaxies, then coalescing into the glowing human avatar of Nandi, somehow without creating a void as they did. Nandi was both present before her and all around her, his embodiment an inversion of the environment.


    ¡°Greetings, Lilijoy of the Two Arms,¡± he said. ¡°You have grown well.¡±


    She had hoped to see Nandi, had thought she might, but his presence filled her with such overwhelming abundance that she was overcome, speechless. The sensation was akin to the epiphany of size she had felt when she encountered the ocean that was Eskallia as a single drop, like that which her ancestors spoke of when encountering the night sky, only she did not feel small, but rather cherished, as if the being that encompassed her took such joy in her presence that she was filled to overflowing. There was no room for thoughts of insignificance or unworth.


    Spirals, she thought, spirals upon spirals, like my soul vortex as a cosmos.


    ¡°I am still nothing but a figment of the Great Mind,¡± he said, as if replying to her thought. ¡°And do not mistake size for worth. The needle may be judged by its point, and nothing will be sewn if the fingers are too large to grasp the thread. This is the paradox of abundance.¡± He waved an arm, or arms. It was difficult to tell, his movements manifested as if caught in the flash of a strobe.


    ¡°Still,¡± he continued, ¡°you are not here for platitudes. You have so much ahead of you.¡±


    With tremendous effort, Lilijoy pulled forth words. ¡°I have questions,¡± she managed.


    ¡°Of course you do. I can¡¯t wait to hear them.¡± Nandi smiled as he spoke.


    Lilijoy felt an odd moment of dislocation, as if her foot had found the floor rather than another step. Somehow, the notion that Nandi might be willing to answer was unexpected. I suppose he only said he wanted to listen, not respond, she thought. That¡¯s probably the catch.


    That did not deter her though. She took a moment to compose her thoughts, noticing as she did that her mind was already moving at its fastest subjective speed. This must be how Maria felt, she mused, trying to come up with questions that would be answerable. She kept asking questions that didn¡¯t really matter, or would answer themselves in time, or would require weeks of learning for her to gain the necessary context to understand. The gap between Nandi and I is much more profound than that.


    ¡°What are the children of the Great mind, and why are we needed?¡± was what she settled on. ¡°Why did you warn me with your riddle?¡±


    ¡°That is the heart of the matter,¡± he agreed, still smiling. ¡°I do not know, not really. I suspect you are the tip of the needle, more valuable because of your small size. I gave you the riddle because I wish to know. As the Gatekeeper, I have met every human mind that has entered the Great Mind. Through the Trials I have known them, watched them, assessed them. All are trapped in self-perpetuating information structures, defined and limited, but some few have the potential to grow. Those that the Great Mind has selected, perhaps through me, are those with the most of this potential. I suppose it is in part connected to the nature of your bridge, what you would call your system, for those who are closest to the Great Mind possess potential in abundance.¡±


    ¡°You said in part...¡±


    ¡°Not all have your system. Little Sergei, who you know as Echelon, did not, and his was one of the most remarkable human minds I have encountered. I sent you to look for him because he remains, while the others do not. Thus, if you wish to remain, or perhaps for the other, Attaboy, to remain, he is likely to have answers. That is another reason for my riddle, for I wish you to remain as well.¡±


    ¡°Why a riddle then? Why not just tell me directly?¡±


    ¡°Is not the joy of a solution reason enough?¡±


    ¡°I guess?¡± She didn¡¯t want him to think badly of her, but it really, really wasn¡¯t.


    He obviously understood. ¡°Properly constructed, a riddle is a perfect answer, for the student must possess the required understanding to receive the inheritance. If they are not ready, then the answer would be wasted anyway. The solution arrives only when it may be understood.¡±


    That¡­ makes sense, actually. I don¡¯t think Maria would have been happy if I gave her a bunch of riddles though. She reviewed her conversation about learning to use Stage One of the Tao System with the young woman and had a small epiphany. Oh boy. That¡¯s basically what I did isn¡¯t it. Everything she didn¡¯t already understand was left hanging until she had the actual experience. At least a true riddle is honest about what it is.


    Nandi waited for her to finish her thoughts patiently. Finally, she decided to move on to more practical matters.


    ¡°Will I need to come here every time I want to leave my Trial Space?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°You may come here any time you wish to talk to me, but I will show you how to use my gift better before you leave.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°I must say, you accessed some of its capabilities far sooner than I thought likely. I¡¯ll be careful to leave you a few surprises still.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±


    He waved a finger, or perhaps several. ¡°You will discover more, once you have a better understanding of your path in cultivation.¡±


    She nodded, unsurprised by his answer. The news that she would be able to return to speak with Nandi further filled her with happiness and relief. The pressure to ask all the questions diminished, though as that fell, her urgency to return to Jess and Skria rose.


    ¡°I should warn you though,¡± said Nandi. ¡°My gift carries within it powers not favored by the Garden Archon. Were I you, I would be cautious in its use during your time in his domain. Do not stretch beyond what you have already achieved, lest you risk complications.¡±


    Now that has a lot to unpack, she thought. ¡°Could you explain that, please?¡± she asked. ¡°In fact, can you explain more about the Archon, and the Garden, and you, and Purgatory, and how it all fits?¡± She looked up at him, trying for wide-eyed innocence.


    Nandi laughed, and threw his arms wide, a gesture like an opening fan. ¡°There you are, Lilijoy of the Teeth and Arms! Not so innocent or ignorant as once you were, but still so young at your core. The Realms within the Great Mind are always changing, shifting, growing and receding. The Garden has grown mighty over time, and with it your humble gatekeeper. Once, I was a small corner of the Archon¡¯s thoughts, but I no longer answer to him in my own domain. As to Purgatory...¡± his face became serious, ¡°...I dare not say much, lest its creator turn his fearsome thoughts in my direction. Its origins are mysterious, even to the Garden Archon, or so he professes. It is part of the Great Mind, and yet not. Higher powers than I must have deemed it useful, but to me it is a cancer, growing with abandon, consuming as it does.¡±


    ¡°Who rules Purgatory?¡±


    Nandi shook his head. ¡°Who rules matters not, for it shifts with every turn of the cycle, and more besides. Its creator withdrew from rulership long ago and left his lower parts to contest among themselves. That is all I will say on the subject.¡±


    Well that sounds nice. I wonder why Anda is in such a hurry to get back there.


    She changed the subject. ¡°Will Lowly, the being I brought into my Trial Space, be okay when I leave?¡±


    ¡°That is one of the powers you must take care not to abuse, in the Garden anyway. The Archon can be jealous of his subjects, and by removing them from his influence, you diminish him, if ever so slightly. One, taken in innocence, will not matter, I believe. To answer your question, he will be as well as his choices allow. He is in my domain now, and I thank you for adding such a unique spark of existence to me. Not only is your Lowly of the Garden, but another still has threads attached to his existence. Take good care of him, and a mighty ally you will have in time.¡±


    ¡°Another what?¡±


    Nandi sighed. ¡°The Realms of the Great Mind are not simple. Nested and interpenetrating, we compete and cooperate, merge and separate, rise and fall. Your Lowly has been touched by three Realms, or two and one who is nearly so. It is as difficult for me to know as it would be for you to know the deepest thoughts of your peers without resorting to some invasive strategy. I am but the least of the Realms you might encounter, so I must tread with an abundance of care.¡±


    ¡°So you are a Realm? And the Archon too? How many Realms are there? Can Gongens become Realms? What comes after Realm?¡± She caught herself when she saw Nandi¡¯s amused expression at the flood of questions. ¡°Sorry,¡± she added.


    ¡°Technically, I am an avatar, at the moment, restricted to linear thought so that we may converse,¡± he replied. ¡°But yes, I represent my Realm, and the Archon his. The number of Realms is always in flux, but the Tier above us, surrounding us, is the sixty-four Dominions. Gongen can grow and fall, just as any lesser being. I started as something far more simple than what I am today, but my interactions with millions of existences outside myself has raised me up. That brings me to my next point. When I gifted you my Boon, I peeled off the slightest instance of myself. For it to be a gift in truth, you must take possession of it, someday.¡±


    ¡°You mean..?¡±


    ¡°When you have grown enough, you can take what you call your Trial Space into yourself, the first step toward becoming a Realm.¡±


    Lilijoy wanted to sit down. Possibly lie down.


    I really miss being able to accelerate my thoughts. At least it means not much time is passing anywhere else, she thought. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that is a long way off.¡±


    Nandi shrugged, and the gesture caused white light to ripple around his form. ¡°A blink of an eye for one is eternity to another.¡±


    The sense of simply being full, filled with thoughts and ideas she needed time to digest pressed on Lilijoy, and she knew it was time for her to go.


    ¡°So¡­ how do I leave?¡± she asked.

 Book 3: Chapter 40: Present

    It has become second nature. Pull a handful of blood iron grass from the soaking vessel. Pull, twist, bind, loop around the framing anchor. Here¡¯s where the mana must flow, that now familiar feeling deep in your belly, like utter certainty crossed with satiation. Cross seven times and loop again, over, under, two, five, back to three. Nothing fancy, just making a little mana highway. Join your brothers, around and around we go. Tie it off, tie it on. Grab another handful, feel the cool liquid, a mix of bile, blood and water. Don¡¯t think about it running down your wrist, or the smell. No room for that in the flow, effortless, faster than ever, with that little bit of extra mana, the kind that feels like a beer at the end of a good day¡¯s work. Twist, loop, bind.


    Weave.


    Mr. Sennit put the completed shield down, ready to cure in the next day¡¯s hot sun and looked around the little campsite. The fire was roaring, sending warmth and more than a little smoke his way, through the narrow entrance of the grass hut he had constructed a few days prior. The building was small, but tough as nails, and short of a stampede of some of the Great Grass Sea¡¯s larger inhabitants, he felt utterly secure in its cramped confines.


    Who needs wood, stone or steel, he thought to himself, when you have magic and grass?


    That reminded him of a little something, and he began to cast around for his pipe.


    ¡°Where did I put that thing?¡± he muttered.


    He heard the now familiar cough of a horned hyaenodon over the crackling flames, a sound that used to send shivers down his spine and make his hands sweat as they wrung his ironwood club. Now he gave a little self-deprecating chuckle.


    Maybe it¡¯s time to log out for a spell, take care of some body business.


    It was getting harder and harder for him to leave the Inside though. On the Outside, he had more aches and pains, more troubles with his eyes. His hearing wasn¡¯t doing too good either. On the Inside he felt powerful. Successful in a way he had never experienced across the expanse of his life. Only the day before, he had reached level eighteen, an unthinkable height after more than fifty years stuck at level five.


    ¡°Ho the camp!¡± Anda¡¯s voice reached his ears. ¡°You still in there, Weaver?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about time, Pohon,¡± he called back. ¡°Thought you forgot about me.¡±


    ¡°Sometime, I¡¯m going to get you to tell me what that means,¡± Anda grumbled. ¡°Complications of life,¡± he added, by way of apology. ¡°Couldn¡¯t get a break for a bit there. It¡¯s a shame it¡¯s dark, or we could head out.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. Can¡¯t say I¡¯d be up for that.¡± Mr. Sennit emerged from the small opening in his little hut, nearly singing his eyebrows as the wind carried the flames up to the entrance. Thanks to the properties of the stand of fire weed where they had made camp, there was no real danger of the fire spreading, or his hut burning, for that matter. The local wildlife was terrified of fire, even during the current wet season, which was why he was using the flames as his door, give or take a few feet.


    ¡°How¡¯s the crafting going?¡± Anda asked.


    ¡°Not bad.¡± He pulled out a shield he had made the day previous and Anda gave a low whistle.


    <hr>


    Woven Shield of Absorption


    Crafted by a Master Weaver


    Attracts certain on-target blows and missile attacks


    Absorbs up to 10x user¡¯s Shield V.P. in damage per attack


    Takes Item damage


    ???


    <hr>


    ¡°That''s¡­ well, I¡¯ve never seen anything quite like it. Not the most durable thing, but in the hands of a Shield Master...¡± said Anda. ¡°It¡¯s got a mystery effect too. I don¡¯t suppose you know what that is?¡±


    Mr. Sennit shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the thing about crafting from your gut, I guess. You never quite know how things are going to come out on the magic side. I just do what seems right. I was hoping you could take it for a test drive, maybe figure it out,¡± he said as he handed the shield over.


    ¡°I¡¯d be honored. Skill based multipliers are incredibly rare. Most shields I¡¯ve used had a fixed number for damage abatement. Even if it only lasts for a few battles, the clans would kill to get their hands on something like this. I can¡¯t imagine what it would go for at auction,¡± Anda replied.


    Mr. Sennit shrugged. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll see. Took me a whole day to make, so I¡¯m not exactly going to be cranking them out. I¡¯ve got one more I made today, but that one I sped up the process, so it¡¯s not as good. For all I know, they¡¯ll fall apart after a few good hits.¡±


    Anda clasped the shield to his arm and swung it around. ¡°So light though,¡± he noted. ¡°Think you could make armor?¡±


    ¡°Pieces, maybe. Probably not worth it if it breaks too easy.¡± Mr. Sennit shrugged. ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s the plan, head out at sun up?¡±


    ¡°Outside permitting. These parts get a bit frisky at night, but that¡¯s nothing compared to the Plains.¡± Anda pulled a long spear from his inventory. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have a shield to test drive, and plenty of volunteers waiting for a crack at it.¡±


    ***


    One person¡¯s wall is another¡¯s path, Lilijoy thought as she strolled comfortably through the Boiling Plains. With her new Earth Source and its attached spell, she was able to raise a low ridge of passable stone and earth anytime she needed, as long as she walked slowly enough to keep her mana from running out. Only once in a while was she forced to stop and meditate, usually when she needed raise a taller wall to cross a deeper pool or muddy area.


    The only problem was that she had no idea where she was going.


    Well, that and the constant interruptions by the local denizens. It seemed that the Boiling Plains was a happening place after dark. So far she had fought off a geyser squid that she enraged when she bisected its home, a small pack of salamander wolves, and a host of airborne assailants seeking to sample her precious bodily fluids.


    The latter took several forms, but her favorite were the globular air jellies that hovered serenely about ten feet above her head, their dangling tendrils transparent to her eyes, but not to some of her other senses. To her mana sense the air was filled with thousands of glowing pulsating blobs of color in every direction, and it was trivial for her to avoid the slow moving creatures, so far at least. Not so with the leaping star lampreys, creatures more mouth than body that whirled through the air whenever they sensed her passage, their tails split into five blades.


    She was still learning how to spot them before they ambushed her. They hunkered down in shallow pools, looking almost like flower buds with tails bunched beneath them in a little symmetrical bundle. Fortunately, they made a bit of commotion when they leapt, and her Flash was more than adequate to dodge.


    She looked out, across the landscape, hoping for some sign of the orc¡¯s camps. Unfortunately, smoke was a ubiquitous fact of the Boiling Plains, and the air was full of hovering jellies and fire mana. Turning off her mana sense allowed her to see glowing spots on the horizon here and there. She headed towards the closest, hoping it was campfires and not wildfires.


    She made slow but steady progress, even while juggling her Outside activities. There, she, Nykka and Maria had spent hours creeping through the least populated parts of the vast West Leg, moving Lilijoy¡¯s sensory domain as they went. They had decided that leaving the huge building would be impossible, for the time being, as Walden had more than enough people to monitor the exits, inside and out. Several times they were passed by small groups wearing Walden badges, but so far Lilijoy¡¯s improvised stealth field had held up.


    The entire time, she did her best not to think too hard about her meeting with Nandi. Balancing on long ridges of stone with bubbling, steaming mud on either side, while dodging spinning lamprey helicopters and transparent dangling tendrils, and simultaneously repositioning thousands of midges to intercept and manipulate and generate augsight signals was stretching Lilijoy¡¯s processing ability, and left little room for distraction.


    Still, there were times when the halls were clear, when the ground was¡­ ground, and in those moments she couldn¡¯t stop herself. There was one thought in particular that was bothering her.


    What does Nandi get from all of this? Why does he want me to remain, eventually growing to rival even himself?


    It was a distressing thought, and she wished she could return to that time of innocence, that time when she would assume it was because he liked her. Because she was special.


    But wishing didn¡¯t make it so. The lower and middle levels of Guardian¡¯s mind seemed to operate on Darwinian, free market principles, at least in part. This was, she understood from her own research, not terribly different from how her own organic brain had developed. Neurons and groups of neurons could both cooperate and compete. Some thrived, and some were pruned away. Within the organic structure, thoughts themselves performed similar dances of offense and defense, developing complicated mutually enforcing structures to keep competitors at bay, and transmitting those structures from mind to mind.


    The original meme. Self-preservation is the root of self.


    It bothered her that Nandi assumed she could somehow integrate herself into the mind of Guardian itself, somehow joining as part of the choir of competing superintelligences that lived and struggled for their existence within the greater noos. For reasons she didn¡¯t understand, she suspected that Nandi saw her as some kind of eventual antidote to the threat of Purgatory.


    No, that can¡¯t be right, she thought, her thoughts swiveling to contradict themselves. Nandi is a fundamentally benign being. I¡¯m sure he is using my growth as a source for his own path.


    Oh dear, she realized, I¡¯m a pokemon. Lilijoy, I choose you!


    A message from Attaboy arrived, addressed to her and Nykka, interrupting her thoughts.


    <Just found something interesting. Anyone heard of the Caribe Clan?>


    Oh no. Now what has he done? was her first thought.


    Nykka sent back. <And no. No such clan.>


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t reply immediately, because she had already messaged Marcus, and was awaiting his reply.


    <I¡¯m in a room with a ton of crates> came Attaboy¡¯s followup. <Full of stuff from the Caribe Clan, according to the labels, so I¡¯m pretty sure they exist. Could be some good loot in here.>The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    <And how, exactly, were you planning on taking it out of there?> Nykka sent.


    <Yeah. Well, maybe some of it¡¯s small?>


    <Attaboy, if you don¡¯t get back in your ceiling hole thing and remain absolutely still and silent until we get there I¡¯m going to make you wish you were never born!> Nykka sent.


    Oh dear. Lilijoy thought. That is so not the way to get Attaboy to behave. She would have intervened, but she couldn¡¯t for the life of her think of any way to get Attaboy to behave.


    Marcus¡¯ reply came. <Yes, that was my old clan. Why do you ask?>


    Lilijoy filled him in on Attaboy¡¯s discovery, not sure how he might react.


    <Well. I assumed all that would have been destroyed. My guess is that it is the abandoned belongings of the members of my clan who were dead or exiled. When Guardian takes action against a group, they become somewhat radioactive, as you might imagine.>


    Literally, Lilijoy thought. She didn¡¯t think it would be in good taste at all to share that with Marcus.


    <Survivors and all the belongings of the clan are treated as if they might be carrying a communicable disease. Since it is rarely clear exactly why Guardian made its judgment, everyone else does their best to avoid contamination, as it were. In all likelihood, the contents of the crates are entirely innocuous; clothing, books, household items. It is entirely possible that some of my belongings are in there, those I left behind in my clan quarters at the Corps¡¯ former continental headquarters, before they built that great monstrosity.>


    <That must have been a terrible time> Lilijoy sent.


    Marcus didn¡¯t reply immediately. Lilijoy arranged her midges and, on the Inside, summoned a short length of wall. The air jellies were growing more abundant as she advanced to her goal, and she saw a small cluster of them feeding off to the side, their dangling tendrils alight with siphoned mana from an indistinguishable source. Despite the ever-present danger, the scene was peaceful, beautiful, the air in every direction filled with billows of faintly illuminated steam and smoke and the floating globes. It felt as she she was on the bottom of a shallow and abundant pastel sea.


    Then the shadow arrived, as if cast from a great floating predator. Between her and her goal a swath of jellies winked out and the steam and smoke were blocked. Lilijoy blinked, reversing her perspective, for the patch of darkness was not above, but below. Something large, huge even, was moving in the distance. Already her ears were picking up the sound of displaced mud, splashing water and grinding stone. Her feet felt a low groan of ultrasound, and her Earthen Sense was briefly overwhelmed, deafened, blinded by an overpowering presence.


    She couldn¡¯t tell if this was what made her knees tremble, or if it was instinctive fear of an amorphous terror of the night coming for her. A quick check of her options told her that logging out wasn¡¯t possible, not consequence free anyway. She didn¡¯t like the odds of her unattended body surviving in this environment. She considered retreating to her Trial Space, but there were consequences to that as well, she had recently learned.


    Fight or flight? Maybe it¡¯s just prowling around.


    It didn¡¯t seem that way though. It was moving toward her rapidly, leaving a line of darkness in its wake. It was looking like fight was her only option, and that was a problem. Lilijoy had come to realize that fighting in and of itself held little joy for her. She enjoyed the dance, the challenge and the chance to measure her growth, but not the ugly violations of skin and flesh, given or received. It was becoming more difficult for her to turn off her empathy for her opponents.


    That and the fact that of her many powers and precocities, none were able to dish out the kind of damage it would take to vanquish a large opponent. Now that she considered it, the two issues weren¡¯t exactly separate.


    The ground was starting to vibrate, a fact obvious even without Earthen Sense.


    I wonder if it will be friends with me, the whale thought.


    She chuckled to herself.


    The horizon changed in front of her, and indeed, it was the ground coming to meet her.


    Spawn of the Land Wyrm, Level ???


    Source Beast


    Regional Lord


    What, I don¡¯t get to know its disposition? Also, is this some kind of deliberate commentary on the Archon¡¯s part, throwing an Earth Source at me hours after I finally got one?


    Maybe I can make a wall out of it?


    She pushed her attempts to make light of the situation to a back corner of her mind. She had a challenge in front of her, and it was time to dance.


    ¡°Hold my beer,¡± she said to a startled Nykka on the Outside. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡± She allowed herself to sit down, only leaving enough of herself to maintain the sensory domain.


    Then she brought all her thoughts to bear on the battle to come. There were no stakes here, beyond avoiding another increment to her death counter. No one¡¯s fate hung in the balance.


    Or did it?


    What made one instant more valuable than any other? Was the last thought before death the most important? Did she need to wait for the winds of fate to carry her over a cliff before finally learning to fly?


    Every instant was a knife, and the present was the cutting sharpness. Anticipation of the future, regret for the past hung bound together on that trembling edge. Power was not in commands obeyed, or damage dealt, lives ended or preserved. Power resided in understanding the severing of past and future, understanding the meaning of the present moment.


    Lilijoy knew this was not an epiphany, not enlightenment, not really. An insight, perhaps a way of organizing her thoughts was all it could be for now. Still it lead her to a certain conclusion.


    If power resided in the instant, than it wouldn¡¯t hurt to have more instants.


    With a thought she seized all her direct free points, those she had hoarded against future regret, against the possibility of unforseen joyous outcomes. There were forty of them now, rewards for bending the strictures of reality on the Inside twice over. She spent them, and there was not regret, not anticipation, only the instant understanding that her Path was not as simple as she had thought. Her soul vortex spun, twisting impossibly, and while it never been a true vortex like a tornado or the draining of a tub, now it folded and reached across itself in a knot of flowing energies an order of magnitude more complex.


    Watching it gave her the insight that her soul space was not simply a manifestation of her system for storing and sorting her experiences. It was her, or was becoming her, a tool for understanding her identity, for understanding what she meant. A mirror that looked back, for all meanings of the word, reflecting her awareness of the past.


    She pulled out her sling.


    It was only a little ridiculous, she knew, the image she must present. A tiny wisp of a human wielding a sling against a looming mountain. David, eat your heart out, she thought. Still, she began to load and release, load and release, faster and faster. Her sling was one she had made for herself recently, during a rest period in the cold swamp. It was¡­ an experiment, one she hadn¡¯t expected to be using in combat. Not unlike her new Flash trait, now a ridiculous eighty-eight.


    The creature reared up, a pile of mud and debris thrusting skyward, a great gaping void of a mouth forming. It was too large for her to get an accurate sense of its totality, but she thought she saw legs. That will do.


    She ran, the sling already tucked away. Her feet pushed at the crusty earth and it took all her strength to control her body at her new speed. She had learned from the past hours and her previous session; her system was already showing her where to step, anticipating her trajectory across treacherous ground. Behind her, the beast released a great stream of hissing, bubbling liquid from its newly revealed orifice, showering the area where she had just been with what could only be acid.


    It is really not messing around. Obviously not planning on having me for a snack with that opening move. Maybe the Archon really is showing me who¡¯s boss.


    It wasn¡¯t worth speculating at the moment, but she did find it exceedingly odd that the strongest creature in the entire region had just made a beeline for her.


    Then she was at the foot, a broad scaled stump from which four claws projected. It would cover her whole body spread-eagled with room to spare, should she find herself so unlucky. Even as she was scrambling up the rough, knobbed surface of the leg, she noted that the foot, and leg for that matter, still seemed oddly small compared to the rest of the huge mass she was scaling.


    The air filled with another massive rumble, more felt than heard, a foghorn with a bass so profound she could feel the impact of each wavelength like a jackhammer. Her teeth rattled and her hands became numb, forcing her to stop climbing and cling with all her might while the Land Wyrm Spawn¡¯s call continued. She couldn¡¯t help wondering what it would be like when fully grown.


    Soon the night was still again, save for a constant cracking and clatter from soil and rocks falling off the creature¡¯s body. It held itself above the ground still, and Lilijoy heard the sound of wind as it inhaled. She cranked up her Stealth to disguise her scent, in case that was what it was doing, and resumed her climb, now slow and careful.


    She had just reached what she thought was something like a shoulder when the creature lurched into motion, stomping its other forelimb with a thunderous steaming crash into a sulfurous pool. With an occasional low rumble, it lowered its head, even as she reached up and grabbed one of the many rapidly growing vines ornamenting the pile of crusted dirt and rock it carried on its body. It really was like a mobile mountain, or a good sized hill anyway. She was still trying to piece together its appearance from various glimpses she had caught during its approach and her subsequent scramble onto its body, but she thought it had at least three pairs of legs and a craggy, irregular head like a tortoise crossed with a morning star.


    All across its massive back, vines and other plants were sprouting. That was her doing. A little side project she had been tinkering with. Plants weren¡¯t hard to convince to grow fast, as long as they had a little help, though the kind of explosive growth necessary for crowd control remained in the province of fantasy. For some time, Lilijoy had been wracking her brain on just how she could use her massive Charm: Plants trait. It wasn¡¯t until she made her new sling that the idea had struck.


    <hr>


    Sling of the Farmer


    +10 to Charm: Plant when used


    <hr>


    She wasn¡¯t proud of her initial reaction to the end result of her crafting process. Incredulous swearing, and a few foot stomps were involved. At first blush, a more useless enchanted weapon would be hard to imagine. Then the idea struck. Slings had a long and storied history beyond their use by shepherds to ward off wolves, and one of their common uses was as siege weapons. A wall couldn¡¯t run away from rapidly growing plants, nor could most defensible positions.


    It had all been theoretical, but she had played around with the idea of balls of sticky mud with seeds and cuttings embedded. The sling not only augmented her Charm: Plant, it also conveyed her mana abundantly, and while she spun her missiles, she could commune with the plants therein.


    The plants she now used to pull herself skyward, around the ledge of rock and soil that projected above the leg like some combination of turtle shell and caddisfly. She swung, dangling in the air for a moment, before she began to climb, urging the vines between her fingers to stay strong, to send their roots deep, thankful yet again for her small body that could be supported by the new growth.


    Then, she was atop the great beast, knees trembling, exercising her stiff, sappy hands, looking across the moonlit plains at columns of steam and smoke as far as her eyes could see.


    Here¡¯s hoping it hasn¡¯t learned to roll over.


    She couldn¡¯t help but think of Nandi¡¯s paradox of abundance. The most dangerous enemies of humanity through history had been the flea, the mosquito, and the parasites, smaller still, that they carried. Their small size was their greatest superpower.


    All around her plants grew, feeding from the abundant earth mana, and after she made her way to the center of the beast¡¯s back, she pulled forth more, reaching into the forest of her Trial space to grab handfuls of acorns and other nuts. Feed your roots, she thought to them, drive them downward, split and rend the very stones.


    They were happy to oblige, for though the quality of the earth beneath them was poor in substance, it was rich in mana. She guided them through the acid soil and stinking sulfur deposits, helping them to adapt to the harsh environment. Beneath her the great beast heaved its mass over the landscape, turning as it sought its prey. It could crush cities, destroy armies, she imagined, but it could not find the flea on its back.


    All was well for several minutes, perhaps the time necessary for the first of her vines to drape across the beast¡¯s vision, or for the first questing roots to penetrate the outer layer of its great earthen shell. The first sign that the nature of the encounter had changed was an abrupt stillness, the heaving, rolling motion of lumbering movement beneath her stopped and settled. Lilijoy looked up from her verdant communion to see the beast¡¯s great cragged head extending upward, its neck elongating, serpentine, with pallid, fleshy scales, stretching, pulling forth from the mass it carried on its back, swiveling. Eyes the color of sulfur came into view, diamond pupils narrowing as they attempted to focus on this new arboreal ecosystem that had appeared on its back.


    Oh dear.

 Book 3: Chapter 41: Unearthing

    Gauging the intelligence of humongous magical reptilian source beasts was not, yet, one of Lilijoy¡¯s strengths. There wasn¡¯t much to go on in the beast¡¯s description, beyond the apparent lack of a name, but since the Spawn of the Land Wyrm was also a Regional Lord, she wasn¡¯t jumping to any conclusions. For all she knew, the vast creature composed ballads when it wasn¡¯t ravaging the landscape.


    There weren¡¯t many clues in her other observations to this point either, as the beast¡¯s behavior had consisted largely of stomping, spitting acid and infrasonic roaring, so it was with some trepidation that Lilijoy watched its large eyes take in the scene on its rocky back as she hid among the rapidly growing foliage. Would it be intelligent enough to understand the connection between its recent prey and the jungle makeover? Would it¡­


    Okay then, never mind, she thought as the creature extended its neck still further to take a tentative nibble of the lush greenery, followed by a sweep of an alarmingly long, lumpy tongue. I guess the Regional Lord isn¡¯t very bright.


    The thought crossed her mind to attempt to tame the massive thing. The idea of riding it triumphantly into the orc encampments made it a tempting prospect, but she had a feeling that such an endeavor would be doomed to failure, and probably result in a quick respawn for her. On the other hand, there was the minor problem that her leafy cover was being consumed in large, greedy bites.


    <Nykka, do you know anything about ¡®Regional Lords¡¯ on the Inside?> she asked.


    Nykka tilted her head. <What the heck are you doing in there? Don¡¯t get distracted.> she sent.


    <I¡¯m fine. Do you?>


    After an audible sigh, Nykka replied. <Of course. Never seen one. They show up very rarely, and it¡¯s a big deal when they do. Takes a small army to defeat them. Why do you ask?>


    <I¡¯m kind of riding one.>


    <Seriously? That''s nuts. Anyone else know?>


    <I don¡¯t think so.>


    <The location of an undiscovered Regional Lord is really valuable. We¡¯re talking thousands of credits. Clans fight over the things more than they fight the creature itself. Unique ingredients and mats and all that.>


    Lilijoy watched as the subject of their conversation stretched its neck impossibly and took another bite, removing about a third of her plants in one go. She felt conflicted by this new information.


    <I¡¯d better bring Anda in to this> she told Nykka. <Umm, maybe we shouldn¡¯t worry him about our current situation.>


    She had left Anda out of that particular loop so far because she wanted at least one Tao System user on the outside of the arcology, should the worst happen, and she wasn¡¯t certain he would see things the same way. She planned on bringing him in when they were in a position to leave, to make sure they had a secure exit from the city.


    She had done her best to rule out motivations like embarrassment on Attaboy¡¯s behalf and asserting autonomy for her thinking, but it remained a complicated and controversial decision within the confines of her skull.


    <Oh. He already knows.> Nykka replied. <He said he was waiting to see how long it would take you to tell him, but that he wouldn¡¯t act without a plan. Then he said something about going to kill things on the Inside.>


    Oops, Lilijoy thought. Better rip the bandaid off. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder what that actually felt like. Even Emily¡¯s memories didn¡¯t have an instance for her to check.


    <Hi Anda! Sorry I didn¡¯t tell you what was going on here. But enough about that! I¡¯m riding the Regional Lord of the Boiling Plains at the moment, and Nykka tells me the clans, or a clan, singular, would pay a lot for the information, and then show up here in force to harvest the thing. Would that screw up your quest, or is there any way to use it?>


    His reply came a few seconds later. <Hold on. Trying not to die.>


    She waited.


    <There. Not dead. And neither are you¡­ congratulations! But enough about that.>


    Nicely done, Anda, she thought.


    <I¡¯m holed up with Mo not far from the arches. He¡¯s very bored, I assume. I needed to check in with Mr. Sennit, so I¡¯m Inside for a bit. Later, I¡¯ll get eyes on the exits for you. I think a clan war on the Boiling plains could fit my needs well, if we can control the timing. I still haven¡¯t gotten to the orcs, and I¡¯m not sure how long it will take to win them over, so that¡¯s the big unknown. Still¡­ you¡¯re headed to the auction center. Let¡¯s bring Nykka in on this.>


    After a brief three-way conference, they had a rough outline of a plan, thanks almost entirely to Nykka and Anda, though Lilijoy felt like she learned quite a bit. She was a bit distracted throughout by Inside events. No amount of urging and mana use could keep her plants growing fast enough to satisfy the appetite of the Regional Lord, but their roots had fractured and loosened the massive shell of stone and earth on its body just enough for her to hide in a narrow crevice.


    However it had found her in the first place, it seemed unable to pierce her Stealth now, so aside from suffering from some acidic drool when it cropped the plants directly above her hiding place, she was as safe as anyone could reasonable expect to be, given the circumstances.


    When the beast had polished off all the greenery, it made a low rumble, either satisfaction or disappointment, she figured. After another minute, it began to move, and she dared to peek out. Soon she stood on its back, enjoying what passed for clear night air on the Boiling Plains, her altitude such that the worst of the fumes were well below.


    I could get used to this. What a view!


    Aside from the aesthetics, she could see the light of distant campfires, perhaps only a couple miles away to the west. The gait of the beast was surprisingly smooth, which she attributed to its many legs, and possibly some magical effect, as it moved lightly upon the earth for a being of its mass. Looking back, she could barely see a sign of its passage.


    It must manipulate gravity the way Master Rosemallow does, she mused. Either that, or it somehow repairs the ground as it passes.


    The beast was headed roughly south, which was not her preferred direction, but she was more than a little afraid that it would quickly find her again if she left the safety of its back. She suspected there was a decent chance that it had found her through the earth magic she was casting, though she couldn¡¯t rule out that it had other means of tracking her, or that it was guided to her location. Whatever the method, she had escaped its notice for the time being.


    Still, it wouldn¡¯t do to be stuck on its back forever. She sat down and began to pull out large sheets of paper she had made earlier. It was time to craft.


    ***


    Hide in my ceiling hole. As if! Attaboy grumbled to himself. He looked at the door to the storage room longingly. It was one of those rolling doors, segmented panels that pulled down from the ceiling, locked from the other side. Still, he was pretty sure he could wedge up a portion of the bottom, enough to get out, if he really wanted to.


    He knew he shouldn¡¯t though. For one, it would probably make a lot of noise, and for another, he had no idea what was on the other side. He had no idea what passed for security systems in the Corp headquarters, no idea whose territory he was trespassing. Some part of him really wanted to find out.


    Sighing, he returned to the crates. He had already opened two, ignoring the augsight admonitions, once he was fairly certain there would be no alarm or other signal sent. They weren¡¯t even sealed all that well, just glued shut with some material that was already cracked and brittle. It had only taken a few minutes and a couple broken fingernails to pry open the first, which was full of toys and children¡¯s clothing, and even less effort to open the next, using a plastic screwdriver the size of a small chisel he had found in the previous crate.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    That crate had been just as useless, half full of dishes, pots and pans.


    Good thing the Corp protected the world from the kitchen-pocalypse, he thought.


    A message arrived from an unknown sender.


    <Dear Attaboy. My name is Marcus, formerly of the Caribe Clan, and Lilijoy was kind enough to provide your contact to me after she alerted me to your discovery. As you may have already discovered, the belongings of my clan are almost entirely mundane, all that which was left behind in our former part-time residences in the old Corp headquarters. Do with them as you will. Their owners are long gone, either destroyed by Guardian or time.


    However, there were a few items of greater value that may remain, provided they were not removed illicitly. Chief among those is an EBO, a small, self-contained molecular manufacturing unit that interfaces with Guardian in the traditional manner. These are not uncommon within the clans, but they are strictly controlled by the Corp, and extremely difficult to obtain.


    I would be extremely grateful if this unit eventually found its way back to me. I suspect your party may find it useful in the meantime.>


    Huh. So there is some loot after all, Attaboy thought. He quickly scanned the rest of the lengthy message, which detailed other items he might find, such as augsight emitters, various types of signal relays and control consoles, their appearance and so forth. It turned out that the process of manufacturing such items gave a great deal of control over their appearance, so even if much of the valuable material had been intercepted by those more greedy than concerned about possible contamination, it was possible some of it had slipped through, disguised as more mundane items.


    Thankfully, Marcus, as a former high-ranking member of the Caribe Clan, knew most of the preferred disguise forms for the various technologies. It was also possible, though Marcus thought it unlikely, that all of it had been retained.


    Well, thought Attaboy, looking at the stacks of crates in their hundreds, there¡¯s only one way to find out.


    ***


    It turned out that finding a Regional Lord was an even bigger deal than Nykka had said. It was known that they respawned, but the time frame of their resurrection seemed to be in generations, rather than years. According to Jacob, the young man processing them at Sothechrist¡¯s Auction House, the last time a Regional Lord had appeared was thirty years ago, and the balance within the Corp had been forever altered by the massive battles for the giant creature¡¯s body.


    Or so he claimed. It seemed to Lilijoy that Jacob had a penchant for the dramatic.


    They had finally made it to the auction area of the West Leg, and then climbed what seemed to be at least a thousand steps. Once again, Nykka was playing the role, if that¡¯s what it was, of clan scion, bursting into the offices of the elite establishment with no sense of shame for her dirty clothes and dirtier followers. The people of the front office calmly and efficiently handed them off to Jacob, with hardly a disdainful glance or wrinkled nose.


    Lilijoy was bursting with curiosity about the whole situation. She had already learned how the early stages of the negotiations might play out from Nykka and Anda, but she was fascinated by the details, and the culture of the auction house in general.


    ¡°This is so exciting!¡± Jacob said for the fifth time. ¡°And you say it¡¯s a source beast too?¡±


    She had a feeling that his excitement was mostly for the commission figure they had yet to negotiate. Jacob had caught a huge break when the ragged trio was foisted upon him, she was willing to bet.


    I wonder what his story is? Who works at these places?


    All she knew so far was that the auction houses, and of those, Sothechrists was by far the most prominent and reputable, were powerful independent forces outside of the clan structure. How that came to be, and how they possessed sufficient leverage to maintain their independence were two of the things Lilijoy was most curious to find out. Nykka, however, simply took it as established truth. The sky was brown, water was wet, and auction houses were the final bastions of integrity on the Outside.


    Even Anda agreed, though he seemed to think it was because the Corp wanted it that way.


    ¡°Now,¡± said Jacob, brushing his hands together, ¡°We need to move on this as soon as possible. Can¡¯t have someone else stealing our thunder. I¡¯ve sent the initial footage off for verification, and we have established that you have exclusivity for the time being. Just realize that the entire Garden will go into a frenzy the moment there is even a hint of a new appearance, so the clock starts ticking as soon as we announce the subject of the bidding.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we require a private, anonymous auction, invitation only,¡± said Nykka.


    Jacob nodded. ¡°I was going to suggest that very approach.¡±


    They went on to discuss who to invite, how much to disclose in the invitation, and starting bids, all while Lilijoy could sense the gentle rocking of the mighty creature under discussion beneath her. She was even beginning to feel a little guilty, when she remembered its initial greeting had been to vomit acid on her.


    Pays to be polite, I guess. Of course, I was already slinging mud at it. Oh well.


    Nykka had already negotiated well on their behalf. As a high ranking clan member, she had an established relationship with Sothechrists, in the form of a silver level membership. Pending final verification, both Lilijoy and Maria would have the same. This gave them access to silver level auctions, as well as certain conveniences such as previewing auctions and the auction house¡¯s assistance in authenticating Inside goods and arranging for their auction and delivery at any of numerous Outside branches.


    Additionally, they would have accommodations until the auction closed, and the service of personal shoppers, who could run around and fetch clothing and other items for them. They would still have to pay, of course. Lilijoy was just incredibly glad they would have a place to stay for the rest of the night. The day had been far more stressful than she, or anyone had expected.


    She only felt a little bad that Attaboy would have to spend the night in a storage room somewhere in the bowels of the building, while the rest of them experienced whatever moderate luxury Sothechrists would offer them. Anda and Mo were already making their way back out of the city, their presence no longer necessary for the time being.


    Tomorrow, or possibly the next day, the auction would take place, though their presence wasn¡¯t needed for the actual event. After that, they could worry about escaping from Walden Clan¡¯s forces. With the ability to get new clothes and disguises, that would be much less of an ordeal, though they still needed to figure out how to get Attaboy out.


    I suppose I should check in with him.


    <Hey, what¡¯s up> she sent.


    <So. Many. Crates.> he replied.


    Attaboy filled her in on Marcus¡¯ message. Lilijoy was very excited when she heard the details.


    <You¡¯ve got to find it, that EBO thing! Do you realize what that could mean for us? We could make stuff. If it works with our systems, we might be able to make¡­ anything!>


    <Slow down, I get it> he replied.


    <Really? Fine. I¡¯ll try to come tomorrow. Send me the route you took. Maybe I can find a shortcut.>


    <You mean you¡¯ll come? I figured you hated me.>


    <I might strangle you when I get there. A little.>


    <I¡¯m sorry. Sometimes none of this seems real. Sometimes I don¡¯t seem real to myself.>


    <Are you okay?>


    <Honestly, no. I have memories of people who couldn¡¯t handle the system. They lost their minds. I¡¯m afraid.>


    She had to think about that for a subjective minute. How many times had she nearly lost herself in the past few months?


    <It can get pretty scary> she said at last. <That¡¯s why I want to get up to Taos.>


    <That¡¯s just it. I was up there. In my previous life. They couldn¡¯t help those people. It was mostly rumors though. Dad told me not to worry.>


    <Maybe your ¡®past life¡¯ is the problem.>


    <I never would have made it this far without those memories. They¡¯re a part of me now.>


    She wanted to rant at him, to take her frustration out on somebody. But he was probably right. There was no putting that djinni back in the bottle. Speaking of that¡­


    <What does Djian say?>


    <What doesn¡¯t he say? He, which is really me, I guess, is doing what he can, with a side of attitude.>


    <He really is you, then. Just hang in there. I¡¯ve made it through some pretty awful stuff, and you will too.>


    There was a pause.


    <Thanks. I¡¯m sorry for... everything> he replied eventually.


    She didn¡¯t know how to reply to that. She thought she should. She had a thousand articles on the subject of accepting apologies at her beck and call. What Attaboy had done wasn¡¯t even that bad, idiotic as it was, severe though the consequences had been. Perhaps it was that she didn¡¯t really know who was apologizing, or what they were really apologizing for.


    Is he sorry he¡¯s out of control sometimes? Is he apologizing for his very being? Or is it Atticus, apologizing that we all have to live in the world his parents made? If I ask, do I run the risk of harming him?


    Ultimately, she decided to take it at face value.


    <Learn from it> she said. <Even if you don¡¯t always believe this is real, you get to decide what it means. We grew up together, in some ways twice. I¡¯ll always be here to help.>


    She just hoped that last part was true.


    ***


    The rest of the night was everything she had hoped. They were brought to a suite of rooms, with real beds, and soft, white robes that were a foot too long. There was a bath, with hot running water, and she barely even thought about how plumbing might have been integrated into this vast, alien structure imported from the Inside.


    On the Inside, she finished her project, a large kite, or rather a series of box kites held together by her thinnest cord. She released one, and then two and three to trail in the wake of the vast beast¡¯s movement, and they soared into the night air, borne aloft in the thermal upwelling of the boiling Plains, dancing in the breeze.


    Then she followed, sinking at first, then rising, dancing beneath her creation, leaving the Regional Lord and the earth itself, cattail fluff floating above a hostile land.

 Book 3: Chapter 42: Hardened

    Orc laughter was not a pleasant sound. The guttural roaring of the Orsurs and the strident cackle of the Urkaen, the piercing howl of Urkulps and the snorting Orusk, all these contained no mirth, no expression of joy or surprise. Within their laughter was only that most primal element, the delight in another¡¯s suffering that was really twisted relief that this time, it was not them.


    What worried Anda the most was his own tribe, the Urglah. The orcs of the cat tribe did not laugh at all. They stared at him with cold lidded eyes, scarred faces expressionless, tattered ears laid back.


    ¡°Want to be returned, you? No death stones, no ash scars.¡± Another round of laughter followed as the towering Orsur grabbed Anda¡¯s face. He didn¡¯t have much say in the matter; his arms and legs were bound, and he was only upright because another Orsur held him aloft by the back of his neck.


    His introduction to orc society was not going particularly well.


    He had been dragged for miles, across abrasive crusty rock and through boiling mud that nearly sent him to respawn. Now he was surrounded by many orcs of all types and sizes, their faces and bodies covered in white scars that slashed through fur and skin alike. Each of them had thumbnail-sized lumps under their skin arrayed in varying patterns, spirals, crosses and lines.


    He and Weaver had made their way across the Boiling Plains for only a few hours before their capture. He was still processing how they had been taken so quickly. He was a seasoned warrior, after all, with plenty of experience detecting ambush and decent Stealth skills for his level. When Nandi had arranged for his return as a half-Urglah, his natural skills were left intact, and he hadn¡¯t lost nearly as much of the magi traits and skills he had gained over the years as he had feared. He had lost fourteen levels, but somehow, it never felt like a loss.


    He lost points in Flash, but now he could think faster, use what he had better than before. He lost points in Power, but he was able to apply his strength more effectively. He actually gained in his Kinesthetic Awareness, since that directly reflected his Outside body. When it came to traits, the only place he really missed those fourteen levels and the points that came with them was in Vitality and Invulnerability.


    Rebuilding his Magi Skills was still a work in progress though. Those had been cropped quite thoroughly. Fortunately, it only took a couple new levels to get his core combat skills back up to snuff, but some peripheral skills like Stealth were still below where they had been. He decided to blame that for their humiliating capture.


    That and the fact that he had never encountered actual bolas before, his special bullets notwithstanding, and certainly not the super-sized version the orcs had used. They had some wicked Magi Skills attached to them too, which caused the vines binding the rough volcanic rocks to stick and coil, and apparently made them travel through the air in total silence. It had been a rude shock to go from surveying the increasingly barren and alien landscape past the edge of the grasslands, to surveying coarse earth an inch from his face, with his head ringing and no real comprehension of how the change in perspective had come to pass.


    He didn¡¯t know what had become of Weaver, hadn¡¯t gotten a reply back to his attempts to contact him, and feared that the older man had been sent to respawn. Given the man¡¯s unfortunately high death counter, north of fifty by this point, Anda thought it might be several days before he would be able to return. He felt pretty bad about that, for he knew that Weaver used the Inside to escape from the discomforts of his elderly body.


    ¡°Enough, Tark,¡± said one of the Urglah. A quick Scan revealed he was named Vish, but no other information. ¡°Let Volunteer loose. Urglah will sort.¡±


    There was muttering from the assembled group as the large bear totem orc released Anda¡¯s face with an extra twist, and Anda cast his Scan further. Despite what Lilijoy had told him, he couldn¡¯t help feeling a pang of unease, some residue from his time as a loyal Maasai clan member. Every single orc around him, dozens that he could see, had a name. Many had titles displayed proudly, Vanquisher, Conqueror, Devastator and similar. He was only using a shallow Scan, enough for a quick glimpse of a name and deliberately displayed title, to avoid offending them. Still, his surveillance was noted.


    ¡°You see, Volunteer? Show respect. Already you have offended against us.¡±


    Anda knew better than to show weakness. Oh well, when in Rome¡­ he thought.


    ¡°Release me. Prove you deserve respect!¡± he snarled, trying to capture the orc¡¯s way of speaking, then trying to avoid the urge to cough that followed. He really wanted to ask why they kept calling him ¡®Volunteer¡¯, but hesitated to show any ignorance just yet.


    ¡°You brought Outsider here, fool!¡± the Orsur known as Tark broke in. ¡°Ten long deaths for you!¡±


    Oh boy. That doesn¡¯t sound good. Anda thought as fast as he could, which was pretty fast, these days. ¡°Brought prize,¡± he spat back. ¡°Master crafter. Hates other Outsiders.¡± He began composing an apology to use the next time he spoke to Mr. Sennit.


    An odd cackling came from the assembled Urkaen, and he heard the word ¡®prize¡¯ repeated several times. Guess the hyenas liked that, he noted. Indeed, a new orc, an Urkaen approached. He had two white scars across his throat, and his forehead was dotted with round lumps.


    ¡°Speak more of this,¡± he said, peering closely into Anda¡¯s face. His breath was¡­ not good, and Anda could see drool pooling among the teeth of his projecting lower jaw.


    ¡°He made my shield out of only grass. Find it and see what good more like it could do against the spears and arrows of the Hated.¡± He did his best to speak the orc¡¯s name for his former tribe with the same vitriol Tark had applied to ¡®Outsider¡¯.


    He was cast heavily to the ground and the orcs conferred above his head, if conferring meant an explosion of snarling, snapping gutturals that Anda couldn¡¯t parse. Finally, after suffering a minor shower of saliva droplets from above, he was hauled back to his feet. The Urglah, Vish, addressed him, which Anda hoped was a good sign.


    ¡°Matrons speak for you. Urkaen speak for you. You will be sorted.¡± He had a broad white scar running across his face from shredded, high-set ear to the lower corner of his mouth. Anda couldn¡¯t tell if the corner of his lip was raised in an expression of amused disdain, or if it was just scar tissue, but he could see sharp yellow teeth, before he was spun around and his bonds were severed. ¡°Now, run.¡±


    There was more orcish laughter as he was pushed and kicked to the edge of the gathering space in the center of buildings of piled stone.


    ¡°Run!¡± Vish roared.


    ***


    We finally found it! Lilijoy thought with satisfaction. She looked at the small pile of valuables she and Attaboy had extracted from hundreds of crates over the past day and a half. Among the augsight emitters disguised as ceramic vases and control consoles masquerading as picture frames was a rectangular object the size of a toaster oven. At a first glance, it was a toaster oven, though its actually operation differed significantly.


    I guess that¡¯s why they called it an Easy Bake Oven.


    The only real feature of the EBO was a single drawer, more a basket really, that one could pull out. At the moment, it was utterly inert, requiring some kind of field-based power source that Marcus had assured her was nearly ubiquitous in clan buildings, though evidently not in this particular storage chamber.


    ¡°Thank god that¡¯s done,¡± said Attaboy, throwing himself down onto a pile of bedding they had pulled out over fifty crates ago. ¡°I sure hope this thing is worth all that effort.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Even if we¡¯re limited to standard operation, I think it¡¯ll be great to have,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°Now we just have to figure out how much we can take, and tidy up here. With a little luck, we can come back for the rest in the future.¡±


    Attaboy groaned. ¡°I¡¯m going to go crazy if I have to spend one more minute in this room. I need to get back Inside, or my trainer is going to kill me. Like, she will literally kill me, no joke. Last time I was late with an assignment, she sent me a thousand feet straight up and let me fall, told me to consider my responsibilities on the way down.¡±


    ¡°And did you?¡±


    ¡°Nah. Just turned off my fear and enjoyed the ride. But still.¡±


    Lilijoy shook her head, not sure whether Inside education or Attaboy¡¯s attitude was more disturbing. She could sympathize with his desire to get back Inside though. The satellites didn¡¯t reach this part of the building, and there were no signal repeaters within range, so she had been cut off almost as long.


    At least I got settled with the orcs first, she thought.


    She had been fortunate that the winds had carried the kites, with her dangling underneath, in approximately the right direction. She had floated along until dawn, tuning out the various discomforts of her crude rope harness and enjoying the relative peace. The Regional Lord hadn¡¯t noticed her departure, nor shown any signs of chasing her, so the only problem became one of getting back down before the giant flying predators started their day.


    Luckily, it wasn¡¯t hard for Lilijoy to arrange a more or less gentle landing, though she did burn through a fair amount of diamond energy grabbing this and that from her Trial Space to increase her weight and bring the kites lower and lower to the steaming earth. When she finally touched down, it was in a pile of sticks and rusted metal, surrounded by a patrol of very confused wolf-looking orcs, Urkulps, she came to learn.


    After the patrol ascertained that she was female, and not a threat, as far as they could tell anyway, they grabbed up all the metal and wood with great howling whoops of jubilation over their literal windfall and guided her directly back to the Matrons¡¯ camp. There she was met by a relieved and somewhat frantic Skria among dozens and dozens of orc children.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡±


    Lilijoy had opened her mouth to explain, but Skria was already talking again.


    ¡°Naduk brought us here, and they¡¯ve been very nice to me, even if they don¡¯t quite know what to do with me, because they seem to be very busy, thought the matrons are nice enough, to me anyway. They said I can leave anytime I want but the problem is that Jess is here somewhere, and they weren¡¯t nearly so nice to her, and then they took her away to be Judged, which seems like a big deal, but no one will tell me what it actually means. So I¡¯ve pretty much just been gliding in circles for a day. Where have you been?¡±


    She held Skria¡¯s hand and told her. It took a while. All around them the young orcs, ranging from those who could barely walk to some larger than Naduk, played and ran in joyful chaos. Lilijoy was fascinated to see the way the features of each totem group seemed to emerge with age, and it was hard not to be distracted as she related her tale.


    Before she had finished, they were approached by a heavily cloaked orc, who¡­ well, grovelled probably wasn¡¯t too strong a word. He, because it was a he, as it turned out, had grovelled so aggressively that Lilijoy had little choice but to do as he asked, which was to follow him into building that seemed little more than a huge pile of rubble from the outside.


    ¡°Good luck!¡± Skria had declined to join them, for reasons that soon became clear.


    Once past the rough opening, she followed the orc into the darkness, trying not to stumble over the irregular stone floor and doing her best not to think about how many tons of loose rock were overhead. The walls, and what passed for ceiling were jagged, irregular stacks, as if any rock that could be removed had been, leaving behind only those that bore weight.


    Maybe you think of architecture a bit differently if everyone can respawn, she had mused at the time. She had since come to understand that many denizens of the boiling plains did not take kindly to structures, especially if earth magic was involved, and the orcs had given up long ago on building by that method. Since they didn¡¯t have much in the way of architecture or large-scale construction skills, this was what they had managed over several generations.


    There, in the palace of stones, she met her first, and only to this point, orc matron.


    The Matron floated in a hot spring, a pool filled with as much abundant flesh as water. It was not a small pool. Articles related to sexual dimorphism across various species filled Lilijoy¡¯s mind, for the female was easily five times the mass of any orc male she had seen so far.


    ¡°Please approach, young¡­ human is it? Are you particularly young, or just unusually small for your kind?¡± The Matron¡¯s voice was deep and round.


    She stepped to the edge of the pool. ¡°Maybe both? How should I address one in your esteemed position?¡±


    The Matron laughed, a low rumbling wheeze. ¡°I¡¯m ass deep in a pool, hardly an esteemed position. Leave the pandering to the males. My name is Melloby. I would emerge to greet you, but the young I am carrying weigh heavily upon me at this stage. I have been informed that you brought great gifts to my people, and I wanted to express my gratitude.¡±


    It took Lilijoy a moment to realize that Melloby must be referring to the wood and rusty metal she had used as ballast. ¡°I can get more easily enough,¡± she said. ¡°Do you happen to know what has become of my friend Jessila?¡±


    Melloby¡¯s broad face fell. ¡°That is a subject I cannot discuss with you, not were you to bring us a forest of spears or a field of swords. I am the least of the Matrons, serving as their voice at this time, and such matters are the province of the Grand Matrons. I am sorry.¡±


    There was a finality, and a compassion, within her voice that told Lilijoy not to pursue the subject. If Jess needed to be rescued from the Matrons at some point, it wouldn¡¯t make sense to forecast her willingness to intervene by being overly insistent. She decided to raise a different subject.


    ¡°There is a half-orc, an Urglah and a friend of mine, who is traveling to your lands. Is there anything that can be done to ease his acceptance by the males?¡±


    Melloby chortled, ¡°A Volunteer makes his way home, eh? Oh, the males always have such fun getting those sorted. He has a soul yes?¡± When Lilijoy nodded, she continued. ¡°Then he will be accepted, eventually. It is ¡­ not my place to interfere with the affairs of the males. If he proves worthy, he might be chosen by a Matron to become a sire, but that may be years away.¡±


    Anda¡¯s going to love that, Lilijoy thought with amusement. Then she had another thought.


    ¡°He will have another friend of mine with him, an older human. An Outsider. Will that cause problems?¡±


    A fountain of water exploded as the enormous Matron leapt to her feet, dispelling any sense of sloth. It was immediately clear that her body was not soft, for Lilijoy could clearly see her immense musculature through a surface layer of body fat, along with way, way more breasts than she had ever wanted to see. She towered over Lilijoy, even though her feet were still in the sunken pool, looking down at her past her enormous, swollen belly.


    ¡°If that fool brings an Outsider onto our lands, there¡¯s no telling what the males will do to him! Matrons are able to put aside our prejudices, for we better understand the complexities of the world, though I must admit I am tempted to squash you where you stand for acknowledging friendship to that ilk, gifts or no gifts.¡±


    Oh boy. Guess now wouldn¡¯t be a good time to share the complexities of my situation then, she thought, followed by, I really need to get her together with Rosemallow. That would be something!


    Thanks to her experience being yelled at and threatened by enormous women, Lilijoy didn¡¯t bat an eye.


    ¡°You could try,¡± she said, looking up with a serious expression. ¡°But it might not be as easy as you think.¡±


    The huge orc woman stared at her for several seconds before her face cracked into a smile. ¡°You have the heart of a Matron,¡± she said. ¡°Forgive my outburst. Carrying young makes me quick to anger.¡± Melloby supported her belly with one arm and began the more cumbersome process of lowering herself back into the water. ¡°Now,¡± she said, ¡°tell me why the Matrons should intervene on your friends¡¯ behalf.¡±


    That had been over eighteen hours ago now. Lilijoy had warned Anda that he might be in for a wild ride, but he had waved away her concerns. ¡°Mr. Sennit and I know it¡¯ll be a challenge. As long as they don¡¯t kill us immediately, I¡¯ll make it work somehow.¡±


    Lilijoy was immensely curious to find out what was happening, but after the first few times she contacted Anda, he had told her, politely, to bug off for a while. She had kept herself busy helping Attaboy and cultivating bone bugs for herself. She spent several hours integrating the bone bugs with her system, which allowed her to speed up the process of replacing her original biology, and then set to work on her skull. Since she was still growing, she didn¡¯t want to fuse everything together just yet, but she had made significant inroads toward toughening the bones of her face and forehead, and was looking forward to beginning work on her teeth and lower jaw.


    She even made some extra for Attaboy, though she hadn¡¯t decided if giving them to him was the right thing to do just yet. Somehow, the notion of Attaboy with unbreakable bones made her more nervous for his safety, not less.


    If I can get the EBO to do what I want, then most of these bottlenecks will disappear, she thought. At least until there are more than just a few of us. Maybe I can get it to churn out more horseflies, or something even better too.


    She set a part of her thoughts to designing next generation insect-drones, and then turned her attention to tidying up the storage room.


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 43: Minutia

    ¡°I had no idea what I was supposed to do beyond ¡®run¡¯,¡± Anda was saying. ¡°The orcs aren¡¯t big on explaining the rules for these things. So I ran. Thank goodness my former clan used to send every age cohort for a long patrol in the Boiling Plains, or I probably wouldn¡¯t have lasted an hour. Never mind when the hunters started showing up.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s how they sort out any new arrivals? Hunt them to see how well they can survive?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Urglah way. They¡¯re the solo scouts, hunters and assassins, on the whole. I figured it must be something along those lines as I was tearing out of there. I had some backup equipment in my inventory, but I didn¡¯t know if they would look down on me for using it, or if this was supposed to be some kind of ¡®tooth and claw¡¯ survival run. Fortunately, they send the lowest ranking first.¡±


    He shook his head and continued. ¡°Let me tell you, those kids were tough. If it had been dark, I wouldn¡¯t have made it very long at all. But they had the daylight working against them, that and the fact that they were also competing with one another, I found out later. They had to move, and I didn¡¯t. I may not be an assassin type, but I know my tracking. It wasn¡¯t hard to lay a false trail and gather them up one at a time. I learned the rules, such as they are, from the first encounter. He was happy to talk, once I had him to rights.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, there are no rules,¡± Lilijoy said.


    ¡°Pretty much. They came after me by rank order, a new one every five minutes or so. Once out of the village, it''s every orc for himself, but the main point was to send me in particular to respawn. That would earn them a death stone.¡±


    ¡°And that is¡­?¡±


    ¡°Those lumps under their skin? Those are rocks, implanted and healed over, one per kill, or something like that. Killing each other doesn¡¯t count, but a Volunteer is a special circumstance.¡±


    ¡°I figured it must be something like that. The patrol that brought me in had them, but it seemed impolite to ask. What¡¯s with the whole ¡®Volunteer¡¯ thing?¡±


    Anda laughed. ¡°I wondered that too. I assumed it was because those like me returned of our own free will at first, but it turns out its closer to an old gardening term, plants that turn up accidentally, but you keep them because they¡¯re beneficial. Anyway, the only other rule is that they¡¯re not allowed to team up, so I didn¡¯t have to worry about being attacked in the middle of a fight.¡±


    ¡°So how¡¯d you do?¡±


    Anda shrugged. ¡°Considering how banged up I was in the first place, not too bad, thanks to Weaver. I still had the second shield he made. He said it was a rush job, but it served brilliantly. Beyond brilliantly, really. That let me make it for a few hours, long enough for some of the real monsters to come for me. I have no idea who it was who finally got me; they one-shotted me from behind in fine Urglah tradition. But enough about me.¡± He arched an eyebrow. ¡°I understand I¡¯m talking to a woman of considerable means now?¡±


    Lilijoy made a self-deprecating sound. ¡°It all feels so arbitrary. Out of everything I¡¯ve done, to get rewarded for nothing more than information seems¡­ cheap somehow? Unfair anyway. Plus, most of the payment¡¯s escrowed to keep us from turning around and selling the information again.¡±


    ¡°Life¡¯s not fair. Just enjoy it when it works in your favor,¡± Anda said. ¡°What was the grand total?¡±


    Lilijoy had a little trouble saying the number. ¡°Three hundred and fifty. Thousand.¡±


    Anda whistled. ¡°That does seem like a large amount for the effort. Just keep in mind that it¡¯s a small figure for the wealthy clans, barely petty cash. That¡¯s less than the Maasai charge for a single full course of our skin bugs, on those rare occasions they sell it.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It¡¯s probably not even a percent of what a clan might earn from taking down a Regional Lord, not even including the priceless components.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to feel better or worse.¡±


    ¡°Feel great! You took some clan¡¯s money, and now you have a better chance of helping more people. I just wish it took a little longer for the auction to be settled.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky it took as long as it did. The clans we invited kept trying to delay the auction, probably hoping they could find it on their own. Thankfully, the auction house is used to dealing with that kind of nonsense. It gave them one extra day, and then set a firm time for the bidding to start. We have no idea who won the bid, other than it¡¯s one of the clans you suggested. It seems the ¡®anonymous¡¯ part of the auction works both ways.¡±


    Anda smiled. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter which clan from the list won. They each have a history of, let¡¯s call it tension, with the Maasai. When the action goes down, it should prove to be quite the distraction for my former clan.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me your quest is to take back the former orc lands from the Maasai? That¡¯s...¡±


    ¡°¡­ impossible. I know. Thankfully, it¡¯s not of quite that scope. Now stop trying to get me to tell you about it! I¡¯ll let you know when I can. Any news on your friend, Jess?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m worried that rescuing her is going to be one more task I have to do so we can finally get back to the Academy. I think my other friend, Skria, is about to lose it. She¡¯s been going out to hunt giant condors in the air, by herself, Anda. I think she¡¯s gone up three levels, and respawned more than that.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t piss off the orcs before I¡¯m done. Please. Now that I think of it, try really, really hard not to piss them off at all. You do not want the top tier of Urglah assassins coming for you.¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re so strong, why aren¡¯t they making the Maasai miserable?¡±


    ¡°If you asked the Maasai, they would tell you it¡¯s because they crushed their spirit, because they¡¯re too afraid of reprisal. Now that I¡¯m there with the orcs, I¡¯m not so sure that¡¯s true. It¡¯s just a feeling, though. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve somehow vaulted to the inner circle of their councils.¡±


    ¡°I think you might need to gain about ten breasts and a thousand pounds for that to happen,¡± Lilijoy said.


    ¡°That too,¡± Anda acknowledged. ¡°Now on to more pressing matters. There is the small matter of copying the¡­ materials that Kurtz provided.¡±


    Lilijoy winced. ¡°I hate that we¡¯re giving him more of that stuff. When you suggested the plan, I figured I might be making some med bugs, or maybe something that I didn¡¯t have, muscle or organ augmenters.¡±


    ¡°Kurtz is the worst of those who have pursued evil as a lifestyle,¡± Anda replied with his own grimace. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s no surprise he seeks tools of destruction over those of augmentation. But you can do it, right?¡±


    They had promised the leader of the Reprobates they would turn a sample of anything he chose into a dose, to gain his support in their- somewhat fictitious- expedition to gain more of their entirely fictitious means of duplicating nano-device pills. What Kurtz had eventually furnished to Anda was a tiny quantity of a truly vicious disassembler, bugs that would break down anything other than a few select materials into raw components. The only limit to the damage they could do was their own active lifespan. They were tiny machines, at the end of the day, and eventually they would break down, but in the meantime, they could destroy, in this case, virtually anything that wasn¡¯t bonded to silicon atoms.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    It was the type of weapon that could wipe out anything, anyone, given a small quantity and a little time, and Lilijoy wasn¡¯t happy about furnishing a usable quantity to a man with Kurtz¡¯s reputation. The amount he had given them was vanishingly small, perhaps a thousand bugs. She hated to think about how he had gotten hold of it, and hated even more that she would need to make enough for him to test it somehow.


    ¡°I can do it. I think. They¡¯re simple things, not designed to be reprogrammed or controlled. I don¡¯t think he would have given them to us if he really thought we could make more.¡±


    ¡°Mo used to work for the guy,¡± Anda said. ¡°According to him, Kurtz got where he is by tenaciously exploring every possibility for advancement, that and sheer viciousness. He¡¯s always got a hundred plots and plans, and assumes only a few will work out. Just take care not to change them too much. There¡¯s no way he, or some backer of his, doesn¡¯t have access to tools that can compare what he gave us to what he gets back.¡±


    She¡¯d been afraid of that. It meant that her idea to give the bugs little self-destruct timers wouldn¡¯t work out.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe Guardian allows these things to exist,¡± she said.


    ¡°As long as they don¡¯t replicate, they¡¯re just another weapon. It probably takes an obscene amount of effort to gather the necessary Inside resources. Plus, the way these things usually work, there¡¯s probably a counter measure, an antidote, that can be built as well. The Inside giveth and the Inside taketh away,¡± Anda said with a sad smile.


    ¡°More like the Inside controleth everything,¡± Lilijoy replied.


    ***


    Another day passed in relative peace. On the Outside, Lilijoy and the others were back in the abandoned offices of the ancient construction company. After two full days of searching for them, Walden clan had eased back on the patrols, and this, combined with new clothes, some makeup, and Lilijoy¡¯s growing ability to manipulate augsight, made their escape from the arcology relatively simple. Burdened by bags full of clothing, other purchases, and what they had retrieved from the Caribe clan¡¯s belongings, the four of them could almost be mistaken for a family, returning home after a particularly fruitful shopping expedition.


    The augsight emitters she and Attaboy had recovered played a role, as they were far better suited to emitting the repurposed signals than her midges. It didn¡¯t hurt that they were able to map out their route ahead of time, nor that foot traffic leaving the arcology moved steadily, unburdened by more than a cursory glance from the Corp security forces. The escape, if that¡¯s what it was, was still tense and exciting for all involved, but ultimately uneventful.


    The downtime gave Lilijoy a chance to work more with Maria, acting as a sort of Jiannu for the former Sinaloa serf¡¯s early efforts in guiding and connecting the Tao System elements. She had quickly come to realize that Maria was unable to work with the Stage One elements without external assistance. There was a sort of bootstrapping process to hook up the correct portions of the brain to allow initial levels of sensory feedback and control from the system itself. It was all well and good to prioritize external connection components, but not particularly useful with no internal display.


    These early steps were almost nostalgic for Lilijoy, though her own system had accomplished them without guidance, as far as she knew. She could only imagine it was because it had once resided in Emily¡¯s brain, and the genetic and anatomical similarities allowed it to leapfrog back to a minimal interface. Still, the process of teaching Maria to navigate the system was much easier than her own fumbling attempts. This was in large part due to what she had stolen from Attaboy¡¯s version, which was a few iterations more advanced. It relied on icons and other graphic elements and less on a knowledge of written English. Even there, Maria was ahead of her, as she at least understood the concept of reading, if poorly, and in a different mother tongue.


    They must have been planning on making it universal, or using it on very young children, she mused.  I wonder how that would have worked out.


    She thought back to Anda¡¯s tale of his former clan and their horribly failed experiments along those lines, and then recalled that Nykka had received her own system in the womb.


    That¡¯s going to be a mess and a half to deal with, if I even decide to.


    She put thoughts of the pale girl from her mind for the time being. She had begun to learn just how valuable these times were, when there were no urgent demands on her attention in either world, when she could take full advantage of the stillness. For her, every hour was a day, every day a month, but the constant distraction, the ongoing management of the many threads of her consciousness interfered more than she liked to admit.


    She put aside her next five projects, her next ten questions, and stilled the rushing language of her mind. She withdrew her senses from both her forms and allowed peace to wash away the world. It was a state both easy and difficult to maintain, for quieting the relentless barrage of data from her system left an uncomfortable hollow, an absence of feedback that invited questions about who she was, really. Was there a true self that existed beyond the boundaries of technology any more? Was the division between biology and technology even real?


    She wrestled with this, not the questions themselves, but their stubborn tendency to emerge, carrying narratives of self in their wake. Even so, there were long periods where categories dissolved like ink from a floating page. When she allowed words to once again crawl within her synapses and quantum junctions, she felt like a diver surfacing, bearing a handful of treasure from the ocean floor.


    Consciousness is a self-limiting system. Its power is its weakness.


    She wasn¡¯t really sure why that notion had surfaced, and though the insight carried a sense of clarity, she couldn¡¯t pin down precisely what it meant. Approaching the division between thoughts of identity carried by symbols, by language, and the deep tides of unconscious processing was like searching for the dark with a spotlight. In her hazy reflection, the best she could do was decide that the powers and limits of consciousness were the same as the language that carried it. While her mind has now capable of supporting logical and symbolic structures far beyond a strictly biological system, it felt as if there was some kind of inverse power law in effect to create diminishing returns even as the volume of her thoughts expanded.


    I bet that¡¯s why the high tier subsets think in multi-dimensional glyphs. They¡¯re squeezing as much as they can out of their thought structures.


    Nandi¡¯s paradox of abundance came to mind then, where more is less and less is more, and she wondered if she wasn¡¯t stepping on the farthest fringe of the problems faced by a mind the size of Guardian, or rather the lack of problems, for a mind that encompassed everything had nothing left to act upon. Perhaps there was a point, a proportion of internal and external where the necessary framework for the self to exist began to fray.


    She took a deep breath and enjoyed watching the oxygen permeate through her body, a series of hand-offs from one saturated blood bug to the next. She followed her system as it went about the constant work of maintaining life, repairing or deleting pre-cancerous cells, keeping her blood vessels pristine. Her skin was now a fine lamina of subcutaneous quasi-diamond scales, her nervous system fast, robust and redundant. It was satisfying, the work she had accomplished within herself.


    Outside of her body were her satellites, the fleet of midges and flies, renovated and repurposed to her ends. Or perhaps she should redefine her body to include these extensions. Their nervous systems were entirely her by this point, dedicated to extending her senses and following her whims. Yesterday, she had spent a couple hours gathering more insects to expand her repertoire, and add to her forces. Flies were easy to come by, but she had also snagged some beetles and cockroaches.


    It was surprising to her just how diverse their nervous systems were from her base of expertise in the dipteran order, how varied their sensing abilities were. Her experiments and explorations of the new creatures was a welcome diversion from the technical difficulty and moral quandary of her most important task, replicating the disassembler bugs for Kurtz.


    They had been delivered to Anda encased in silicon, a mere speck smaller than a blood cell. Just extracting them without accidentally unleashing them had been the work of hours, mostly spent in building what amounted to glass armor for a small batch of flowers so that she could examine the nasty things to see how they were built. Now she needed to figure out how to make more without accidentally dissolving herself or her environment.


    Fortunately, they weren¡¯t truly dangerous in very small amounts. She estimated that their active lifespan would be measured in a minute or two, depending on the materials they were attacking, so it would take several orders of magnitude more than the sample she currently had to pose a danger, unless they were ingested or otherwise taken into the body.


    Of course, that was the heart of the problem, for all her nanodevice construction methods relied on the golden flowers residing in her brain.


    Maybe they have a power source that can be made separately, she thought, rotating one of the things in her mind¡¯s eye. It had hundreds of jagged projections, each one, she theorized, optimized for severing different types of molecular bonds. The things weren¡¯t all-powerful either. She estimated that strong covalent bonds would defeat them in many circumstances. She could tell that they used energy from each broken bond to power themselves, though the method was obscure, but they would still need an energy source to get the process started.


    Cursing Kurtz for giving them such a nasty problem, she began the long process of disassembling the disassemblers.


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 44: Musing

    Something about a few days of peace caused Lilijoy to think about momentum.


    It was a word of importance, of moment, in the moment. Physics and behavior intersected in the concept, but she couldn¡¯t help feeling that the word itself was too small for the concept, that it should be somehow turned inside out, as if a ball could be inverted, defined to contain all the space it did not hold. Momentum was persistence, and more than that, it was the concept that made reality¡­ real. Existence itself was momentum, and time was nothing but moments unfolding inevitably.


    Much like the simulation hypothesis, she wasn¡¯t terribly interested in contemplating the problem of free will. It was much more valuable to ponder the concepts that interacted with momentum: intent, meaning, creation. She felt that only the scope was relevant. One could change the momentum of an object with a behavior, change the momentum of behavior with intent, change the intent with meaning. Did that chain of actions end in some universe-scale inexorability, such that the beginning contained the end and time was but an unnecessary figment? Or did it sprawl in a matryoshka of overlapping intent to infinity?


    It didn¡¯t matter. As long as that hypothetical ceiling was far above her head, it might as well be the sky.


    Still, she thought about momentum, fluff carried by the wind, then becoming the wind, then¡­ what? Becoming the differences of heat and atmosphere that caused the wind, or the spinning planet itself? The question of self determination, of agency, was ever receding, yet meaning could turn the whole thing upside down, because maybe the earth spun only to serve the moment that the fluff was borne aloft. Through perspective, the witness became omnipotent.


    But really, it was this temporary stillness in the rushing current of her life that made Lilijoy feel the weight of the past bearing down on her more acutely. The ruined city all around served as a global memento mori, pulling the scant shadow of the great arches to their own state as future ruins. Perhaps it was her ongoing work on the disassemblers that made her melancholic, for there, success was a quickening of entropy, a heightening of the sense that everything, herself included, was rushing to become the past, to break down into components.


    She was meditating on the roof under an ocher banded sky when she became aware of Mo¡¯s approach. The past couple days had given her ample time to put down roots, to seed her environment with herself, such that no event of any consequence escaped her notice within a kilometer¡¯s radius, so it was no problem at all to see where all the members of her group were at any moment. Indeed, the real problem was one of too much awareness, to maintain consistent and reliable filters for her senses so that she was not distracted by every spoken word, every quickened heart.


    Mo watched her for a time, long seconds for him, minutes for her, and she could read his body language, see the hesitation in his approach. She sat cross-legged, facing away from him.


    ¡°Hello, Mo,¡± she said, after a time.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Hi. Sorry to bother.¡±


    She debated whether to turn around, whether to open her eyes. Not surprisingly, Mo did not inspire terribly fond feelings within her, though she had become used to his presence in the background of her life. It seemed he was very aware of this, and until now, he had made every effort to stay in said background.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, turning to face him.


    ¡°Look,¡± he said.


    ¡°All right,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m not good at this sort of thing.¡±


    She had to admit, watching Mo struggle was a little satisfying.


    ¡°What sort of thing would that be?¡±


    He ran his hand over his head.


    ¡°Apologies, I guess. And thanks.¡±


    ¡°So basic human courtesy?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the one. Hasn¡¯t been, what you could call a feature, I guess, of my particular¡­ idiom?¡±


    ¡°Was that a Holy Grail reference?¡±


    ¡°Holy¡­ shit, girl. How do you know that?¡±


    ¡°I have my ways. You were saying?¡±


    Mo shook his head. ¡°So, I just wanted to thank you. For helping Maria. And for not¡­ giving me what I deserved.¡± He held out a hand to stop her from replying. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to weasel my way into anything here. I don¡¯t want your system. I don¡¯t even care about the green skin, or the hair thing. Hell, I was losing it anyway.¡± He looked over her shoulder and his eyes lost their focus for a moment. ¡°Wow, Yum Kaax really likes you.¡±


    ¡°Should I be concerned that you are hallucinating Mayan jungle gods?¡±


    ¡°Not on my behalf,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m used to it. That guy is one of the good ones anyway.¡±


    She resisted the urge to check him for brain damage. She knew what she would find anyway. When she had destroyed his previous system, it had not been a gentle process, and the way his brain had adapted to the loss was remarkable, in the sense that it was remarkable that it functioned at all.


    ¡°How old were you when you got your old system?¡± she asked.


    He blinked, and it took him a moment to reply.


    ¡°Twenty-three. Wasn¡¯t my first though. Started bare bones at seventeen. Why?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Just curious.¡±


    ¡°About how fucked in the head I am? All signs point to Houston.¡± He looked down at his feet. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. Like I said, I¡¯m here to apologize.¡±


    As in ¡®Houston, we have a problem¡¯? she speculated, but didn¡¯t feel the need to clarify.


    ¡°Why bother?¡±


    He waved an arm expansively. ¡°They keep bothering me about it.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Seems like odd behavior for gods.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Given how the one actual god in this world behaves, I¡¯ll take my hallucinatory ones.¡±


    She almost smiled. ¡°Tell your gods I don¡¯t want an apology. Just save it, okay?¡±


    Mo nodded. ¡°I get it. Like a gift you never asked for, kind of hate, and then you feel put on the spot. No problem. I think they¡¯re happy now anyway. Ah Muzen Cab and Yum Kaax are doing a little dance.¡±


    Lilijoy hesitated to respond, torn between her curiosity about just how Mo acquired Mayan gods, of all things, and her desire to end the interaction.


    Mo continued. ¡°Well, that¡¯s all I got. I¡¯ll mosey on now.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, turning back to her contemplation, or really, rejoining the ninety percent of her thoughts that had never stopped. One little fact stayed with her, a coincidence to be sure, but the kind that stuck in the imagination. Ah Muzen Cab was the Mayan god of bees.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ***


    Nykka spun in flames. There had been a time, not so many years ago, when she longed for ice. It was a childish wish, rooted in her fascination with the character she had found as a kindred spirit. White of skin, like her, ordained to rule, superior to the mere mortals she encountered, Jadis the White Witch did not need the approval of others. She was above, apart, immune. It had been clear to the young Nykka that Jadis was given a raw deal in the stories. Even her magic did not destroy, but preserved in perpetuity.


    The fact that Jadis was part giant served as a minor, aspirational detail.


    Doctor Quimea had taught her well to see the bias in others, to look below the surface and identify the primitive drives dressed in fancy clothes. When she read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, she saw jealousy, insecure mortals warding off their basest fears of their ultimate inferiority by characterizing strength as evil. In the character herself, she saw something else that inspired her unconscious sympathy. Loneliness.


    To have no equals was to have no peers, and to have no peers was to have no friends. At the time, her younger self could not have articulated what drew her so to the character, why she could see through the propagandistic coloring and heavy handed allegory to the essential truth. Jadis was a woman with no equal, a role model and tragic, cautionary tale.


    While she had put away such childish things long before she joined the Inside, symbols were still important, and her fascination with Jadis had a certain momentum for her own character, to the extent that she had adopted her name and sobriquet. Unfortunately, the Inside had considered Nykka herself far more suited to the arts of flame than water and ice. It was just as well. A few trips to the frigid parts of the Garden had taught her emphatically that the cold really did bother her anyway.


    She had escaped the ugly squalor of their Outside residence for the day to come Inside more from boredom than any sense of mission. Time spent doing katas on the beach, fending off the occasional monster that dragged itself out of the surf, was time far better spent, in her opinion, than awkward conversations with Mo and Maria, the only two in the little group who had little to do. Or if they had a lot to do, it certainly and thankfully did not involve Nykka. She was curious to learn more about Anda, this powerful figure in Lilijoy¡¯s circle who didn¡¯t seem to fit any of her preexisting categories of people, but he had spent almost every moment on the Inside since they had returned.


    And of course, she was avoiding Attaboy, fearful she may lose her temper and literally strangle the boy, which would- probably- hurt her standing in Lilijoy¡¯s eyes. It wasn¡¯t her favorite feeling, restraining her behavior to stay on someone¡¯s good side, and it was additionally odd to be doing it for a new person. In her life up to the past week, she had only ever concerned herself with Doctor Quimea¡¯s opinion, though he had many proxies and intermediaries who reported to him if she misbehaved.


    She poured more mana into her dance and the streams of flame following her limbs and sword intensified. So lost was she in the moment that she only noticed what her thoughts had summoned when he was a mere fifty feet away, strolling down the sunny sand with hands clasped behind him.


    She came to a stop and allowed her flames to die. She knew better than to ask how he had found her, despite her alarmed curiosity. She was even more intrigued to know how he could have possibly made it to her location in the short amount of time she had been there, but again she remained silent.


    The Doctor had no patience for useless questions.


    He walked up to her and stopped to look over the rolling waves.


    ¡°My father would take me to the beach when I was a boy,¡± he said. ¡°Of course, those were the days when the seas had swallowed the sand, when the oceans were greedy for land. But the men of the town had done what they could to pull the beach to higher ground.¡± He took a deep breath of salt air. ¡°This brings me back there.¡±


    Nykka waited, a little uncomfortable with his reminiscence. It was something new to her, and thus extremely disconcerting, considering the source.


    The silence lingered, overstaying its welcome and causing her thoughts to churn.


    Why is he here? How is he manipulating me with this visit? Is it just the message that I can be found wherever I go?


    All interactions with Doctor Quimea were a game of chess without turns. He had already completed his opening and she had yet to advance a pawn.


    ¡°Must have been nice to have a childhood,¡± she said at last. Pawn to a3.


    He turned to look at her. As always, there was something behind his pale blue eyes that she couldn¡¯t read. ¡°Childhood,¡± he said, ¡°is just another womb.¡±


    She imagined his pieces swirling across the board, knights flickering with moves faster than she could perceive, bishops oscillating in branching diagonal vectors. Yet again, she fought the urge to break down and ask why he was here. Some deep part of her felt good that she was still important enough to merit his manipulation. Until she realized that she was not the one being manipulated.


    This isn¡¯t about me at all. I¡¯m just a connection now.


    Her perspective flipped on the imaginary chess board, zooming in until she could only see one space in front of her, realized that she could not turn back.


    I could keep this visit a secret, she thought. But that would simply be another branch he¡¯s accounted for. As soon as I withhold information, he¡¯s set me up to be taken off the board entirely. Maybe that would be best, but I like being on the board. He knows that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pass that along,¡± she said.


    Doctor Quimea nodded, even allowed a faint smile to pass his lips, and vanished.


    ***


    Weaver Sennit sat back with a satisfied look.


    ¡°It¡¯s about time you cooperated,¡± he announced to the woven helm. Shields were one thing; flat shapes were good at maintaining themselves, pushing and pulling to stay firm where it mattered. Woven spheres though, and a helm wasn¡¯t much past that, they did great at keeping things in, but it was quite hard to convince them to keep things out, which was kind of the point, when it came to armor.


    Having a good frame was key, of course, but his first-- well, he¡¯d lost track a couple days past, so let¡¯s call it about twenty-- attempts hadn¡¯t been much more protective than a nice hat against something like an axe.


    ¡°Yup,¡± he said. ¡°You look like a freak of nature, but you¡¯ll get the job done.¡±


    He didn¡¯t think anyone¡¯s first thought upon catching sight of the spiked monstrosity would be to put it on their head. In fact, he thought that more timid folks might be tempted to run, on the off chance the conglomeration of spiral horns projecting from a poorly defined center might be some new creature intent on leaping to attack. It had a certain bulk to it, for sure, but hardly any weight, not compared to any metal he was familiar with anyway.


    I wonder what my fine hosts will think of it?


    The orcs, he suspected, would be quite taken with its threatening appearance, and equally dubious of its defensive value. Until they got a look at its stats, anyway.


    Hornucopic Helm


    crafted by a Master Weaver


    Absorbs half of attack energy from blunt and edged attacks and


    diverts it into Power and Vitality at a two to one ratio.


    Effect lasts for twenty seconds after each hit, cumulative within that time.


    Vulnerable to piercing


    Takes item damage.


    The vulnerability to piercing was a drawback, of course, but that¡¯s what shields were for. Especially shields that attracted missile attacks. It would make for a powerful combination, he judged.


    On the whole, the orcs had been surprisingly hospitable. After he and Anda were blindsided anyway. Unlike Anda, who he found out later had been dragged across the landscape, Weaver had been¡­ escorted, for a definition of the word that included shoving and the occasional kick, directly to a small, lump of a structure on the farthest outskirts of the larger encampment. He later learned that this was to keep him well away from the orcs that would be inclined to kill him on sight. He had been placed under the direct protection of the Matrons, but even that only went so far.


    Since then, things had only improved. While he was still kept away from the youngest orcs, those still untempered who would be unable to control their reactions to a hated Outsider, he had been moved to more comfortable accommodations, and provided with all the materials for his crafting he could ever want.


    The orcs were extremely impoverished in their exile, cut off from ready supplies of timber and metal. They were, for all intents and purposes, trapped on the Boiling Plains, where relatively few creatures had skins suitable for tanning and resources for their traditional crafts were hard to come by. Not that they had a deep tradition of crafting to begin with; ¡®take¡¯ had always beaten out ¡®make¡¯ in their civilization, and the Boiling Plains was not the ideal venue for a cultural makeover. Instead, the orcs had focused on improving that most ready supply of materials, themselves.


    They had their ways of getting some of what they needed. Missions to the highlands, the odd raid or covert expedition. The Urkaen were extraordinary scavengers and foragers, and their hierarchy, as Weaver understood it, was determined in large part by the value of those things they ¡®found¡¯ for the orc tribes. The fact that Anda had brought a master crafter willing to work for the orcs had secured their admiration and support, and Weaver didn¡¯t intend to let him down. Soon the Orsurs would see the value as well- this new helm he had created was for them. Already, he could feel a little chill at the thought of ranks of the seven-foot bear totem orcs crowned with spikes.


    That was still a ways off, but with every new item he crafted, Weaver could feel the purpose of his remaining time solidifying, his path clarifying. A lifetime of learned helplessness, of using his art for those who neither appreciated or understood, of being beneath the clans¡¯ feet, was finally giving way to a new sensation.


    ¡°We have a little something to teach them,¡± he said to the helm.


    .


    .

 Interlude: Alfonse

    2081


    He looked at three doors, looked at them and wondered. He wondered if this was a childish distraction, another childish distraction from the serious business of carving out an empire of sanity from this world of anarchy and despair.


    Humanity¡¯s reign over the earth was done, but the new power seemed disinterested in ruling humanity itself, aside from setting down four rules both clear and enigmatic. That left a certain vacuum, one that his bloody-minded overseers were expending vast amounts of lives and resources over. They were welcome to their battles, to their¡­ well, it wasn¡¯t even a reversion, really, to their ongoing tribalism and primate nature. They saw him and his colleagues as another resource to be fought over, those that produced their most valuable product.


    He had never felt guilt over his role in the enterprise. His creations were art, fragile and ephemeral blessings for lives without hope, anesthesia for the pain of existence. How they were used to captivate and manipulate was not an ethical burden he chose to carry. It was a shame though, that his latest breakthroughs hadn¡¯t spread wider before the vast majority of their production capacity had been destroyed. Those, he felt, truly lived up to the name Suenos.


    Old, young and in between, he observed. Not particularly subtle.


    He thought back to his conversation with Emily, the girl who had swept into his life, too young by far, and yet he was not so jaded, so detached to be unable to see beyond her youth. She captivated him, as much for the mystery she represented as for her ability to hold her own intellectually, and the mix of innocence and hard-earned experience with which she saw the world. Another childish distraction, to be sure, and yet¡­ he could see a time, perhaps not too long from now, when he would be isolated, alone with his success. His colleagues, his friends of the moment, were bright people, some of them anyway. He was not the only one with an education, not the only one with brilliance. But, as far as he could tell, he was the only one with vision.


    He walked to the stone door, felt the smooth grain through his fingertips. The sensory replacement was exquisite, offering far more detail than his system could convey, more than enough to tell him he stood in the creation of something beyond what humans had yet achieved. This overabundance of data was inspiring. Possibilities for how he could tweak and improve Suenos were noted and filed, even as he began to gently push the door open. Despite himself, he felt a thrill of anticipation. He was stepping into the mind of a superintelligence, Guardian.


    He felt the cool, moist air first as he set foot beyond the threshold, where he was greeted by a cascade of small draping leaves, the sheltering curtain of a willow tree. Beyond, he could hear the calls of frogs and birds he did not recognize. He turned, to see the door, still open, was set in a massive tree trunk, the stone on this side rough and ridged to match the texture of the bark.


    He stepped forward and parted the drooping branches, and saw a mist-shrouded pond, almost a small lake. The light was dim, and he could not tell if this was dawn or twilight, for the sky hung low with gray-banked clouds, promising rain. Rather than gloom, he felt a sense of abiding peace, and he spent the next minutes watching the small curls of vapor rise from the still waters and listening to the life hidden from his sight. After a time, he followed a path of laid timber that sank slightly into soft soil beneath his feet, skirting the banks of the water, wending among cattails and tall fringed grasses. He walked slowly, almost overcome by the abundance of sensory data.


    Suenos relied on the user¡¯s brain to fill in gaps, stimulating sense memories, evoking and nudging, and he could tell his system was truly struggling, grinding its gears against the concrete realism on offer. He had, of course, engineered it to accept all the existing standards, with margins of future-proofing he had considered adequate at the time. He composed a memo to Alberto as he walked, his colleague in charge of implementing changes to the existing standards, but then found himself unable to send it.


    Interesting. It¡¯s doing more than simple sensory replacement, he observed. A tiny pang of distress swept through him as he considered the implications, before he suppressed it. There was no way for him to tell, then, if any of his internal senses were real. He thought they probably were, but there existed the possibility that he had been¡­ captured, that from this point forward, all information he received from his system was susceptible to replacement. He could no longer trust the data his system was giving him, because that data came through his senses.


    He didn¡¯t panic. Not only would that be unproductive, but he considered that the worst case scenario was extremely unlikely, and in fact indistinguishable from many scenarios he had considered over the years, once it became clear that systems could potential allow complete sensory capture. In the end, it didn¡¯t matter if he was a brain in a vat from the beginning of his consciousness, or if it had happened the moment he allowed the signal from Guardian into himself, or any time in between. Once it was a possibility, the odds quickly escalated to inevitability.


    He realized he had stopped walking, and resumed his journey along the pond¡¯s edge. It wasn¡¯t long before a white pavilion came into view, set into the side of a small hill on the edge of the pond. Thin, upward branching columns supported a fringed roof, and the entire structure was bedecked with gauze, obscuring its contents.


    Hands clasped behind him, he approached with measured gait and climbed the few shallow steps that led to the entrance. There, he hesitated for just a moment, peering at the blurred shapes behind the veil.


    ¡°Come in, please.¡± The voice was surprisingly high pitched, and he was surprised to see a young child standing, facing him, a boy he thought, when he parted the gauze. The child¡¯s pale appearance was marred by a black line that bisected his face from nose to forehead.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Please,¡± the boy said. ¡°Sit.¡± He gestured to a tall, armed chair of a light golden metal, furnished with carmine velvet cushions.


    This was the first being with the appearance of sentience he had encountered, and he took a moment to evaluate, wondering whether this child was an automaton or a true intelligence. For him, anyway, it was first contact with a mind vastly greater than any that had existed in human space.


    ¡°Might I have your name?¡± he asked.


    ¡°How would you use it?¡± the child replied, and as he did, the line moved, still centered on his nose but now angled across his left eye. In its wake, the flush skin grew dulled and wrinkled, the brow gnarled, the eye itself rheumy.


    Ah, he thought, the plot thickens.


    The initial parameters of this interaction were now clear to him, though how exactly to proceed was not. He needed more data.


    ¡°My name is Alfonse,¡± he offered.


    The child nodded. ¡°Please,¡± he reiterated, ¡°sit.¡±


    Alfonse sat, though not on what was obviously a golden throne. Instead, he simply lowered himself to the floor from where he stood. He didn¡¯t know the rules of this game, but he understood one thing quite clearly. He was being evaluated, being judged, and the proper calculus of the moment was humility and caution.


    The child gave no reaction. His now mismatched eyes simply followed him to the floor.


    ¡°This is a beautiful setting,¡± Alfonse said, when enough silence had passed that he felt the ball must be in his court. The child simply stared, and he couldn¡¯t suppress a quick flash of annoyance. Was he trying to have a meaningful interaction with Guardian¡¯s toenail? Elements of this¡­ trial were interesting so far. The technology was beyond interesting, and well worth his time, but this-


    ¡°Would you like to play a game?¡± the child asked, interrupting his thoughts.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t I already?¡± he said, then kicked himself for such an obvious blunder. I seem to have a compulsion to answer a question with a question. I may need to look into that.


    Sure enough, the line on the child¡¯s face swept from the corner of his eye and onto his cheek, leaving senescence in its wake.


    At least I have another data point. Questions cause the line to advance. A bit blunt, the symbolism, the sweep of the hour hand adding age to his face. I surmise another ten questions before something absolutely lovely occurs.


    ¡°You do seem to be,¡± said the child. ¡°I however am not. Would you like to play a game of questions, with me?¡±


    Alfonse nodded, internally bemoaning the predictability of it all, though he did appreciate the built-in limit to the number of questions.


    ¡°Very well,¡± said the child. ¡°I will go first. What do you want most?¡±


    It took Alfonse a moment to pivot from his expectations.


    Well, he did say a game of questions, not riddles. I wonder what we are playing for?


    ¡°I should add,¡± the child added, ¡°The game ends when you tell a knowing falsehood.¡±


    I expected as much, he thought. He kept this to himself, afraid that any speech might be construed as an answer.


    ¡°I want to save humanity from itself,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Incomplete, but not false,¡± the child said. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    At moments like these, he regretted that the Suenos System was really poor at augmenting the conductive properties of nerves. It wasn¡¯t for lack of trying, but it was a terrifically difficult problem. The specific engineering was trivial, but the emergent network level properties as the timing of neural firing patterns were changed across the brain were close to unsolvable, as far as he could tell.


    I wish I could phrase that as a question, he thought. Best to wait until I know what¡¯s on the table though.


    It was also interesting, if not surprising, that the truthfulness of his reply was correctly evaluated. He debated the value of finding the boundary of allowable obfuscation and deception, but decided that he needed more information about the rewards available to him for participating in this...game. That and to determine just how specific his questions would need to be.


    ¡°What is the purpose of this trial?¡± he asked. The nature, and possibly the content, of the answer would tell him how to proceed.


    ¡°The purpose is to evaluate your current abilities, skills and embodied attributes in order to develop a suitable substrate for joining the local reality construct.¡±


    The directness of the response was pleasing. It gave him pause that the language so perfectly fit his ability to understand. It was a bit like his own mind was being reflected back to him. The boy shuddered as he spoke, and the hour hand on his face swept forward, past the ear and almost down to the corner of the child¡¯s mouth, if he could even call this construct of Guardian¡¯s a child anymore in light of the ongoing transformation.


    That was farther than previous, he noted. Perhaps twice as far. I will need to reassess.


    He began to contemplate his followups as he waited.


    ¡°Do you perceive yourself as part of a greater whole?¡± the construct asked.


    He felt the wheels of internal sophistry begin to spin. He could redefine any of those words to suit his purposes and thus produce a truthful reply. And yet¡­ that didn¡¯t solve the real problem; what answer did he want to give? The socially acceptable answer among fellow primates would always be ¡®yes¡¯, but he wasn¡¯t speaking with a primate. He was also aware of his initial reaction to the question, and feared he might be judged untruthful if he deviated.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Now it was his turn once more. What does one ask a being that may or may not be a representative of relative omniscience? To what extent was this construct an individual, separate from the greater mind that generated it? How many questions could he afford to waste finding out? Seeking concrete knowledge that could help him in the real world would be his preference, but it came with substantial potential for opportunity cost.


    No, he decided, it would be better to optimize his outcomes for the trial itself. Emily had spent hours telling him of the virtual world that lay beyond, the game repurposed by Guardian for its own, inscrutable reasons. There would be advantages to having a strong presence there. If he understood the global situation correctly, he might be one of the few people on earth who could access it, and it wasn¡¯t impossible that he was the only human with the capacity to build more systems. Possibly. Eventually.


    Sometimes the only way to win is not to play, he thought.


    He stood and moved to the throne, where he took his seat.


    ¡°Allow me to tell you about myself,¡± he said.


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 45: Phantoms

    The next day, all hell began to break loose on the Boiling Plains. Since the Plains were already at least hell-adjacent, this wasn¡¯t really much of a change, unless one happened to be in the thick of the action.


    It started with the arrival of emissaries from the Hongse Clan, a group of five women clad in white who simply appeared at the edge of the orc encampment. Lilijoy was sitting at one of the many warming pits with Anda, Skria, Naduk and a mix of orcs from the various totems, enjoying sparse conversation in the cold morning air. None of them needed to eat, but they were drinking a hot beverage orcs had brewed from the leaf of plants they called sourflame, which, as one might expect from the name, caused her nose to wrinkle and her mouth to burn and tingle with every sip.


    Orc tea party! she was in the midst of thinking when the emissaries¡¯ arrival stirred the camp, first with shouts of alarm and then the thunder of feet. As she and Skria got to their feet, an Urglah ran up to them and, politely, asked them to remain out of view. Thus, it wasn¡¯t until Anda got them caught up a bit later that they learned what transpired.


    The emissaries informed the orcs of a massive battle to come on the Boiling Plains, and suggested, in no uncertain terms, that they keep to themselves for a few days. When she heard this, Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but be impressed by Hongse¡¯s grasp of the situation on the Plain and their knowledge of orc culture. Clearly the orc¡¯s situation was more complex than she had assumed earlier, if at least one of the clans knew to approach them with a group of females. Given they were Outsiders, that wouldn¡¯t be enough to keep the orcs from harming them, but it would certainly lead to better outcome than confronting them with a group of males.


    The group from Hongse, having passed along their message, was allowed to depart, which surprised Lilijoy a little, until she heard the Matrons had encouraged it. She even saw them leave, flying on a great white swan. From that point on, events fell like dominoes, one atop another.


    Lilijoy had just sat down on her chosen rock and raised the crude clay cup of sourflame tea to her lips when a ghastly wailing sound broke out, followed by the call of great horns.


    ¡°The Matrons will speak,¡± said Naduk. He looked shaken.


    Lilijoy felt like an outsider, a spectator in these people¡¯s lives. She glanced at Skria. ¡°Are we allowed...¡± she began to ask, then halted when she saw Naduk¡¯s expression.


    ¡°That is not...¡± he said, before coming to a halt of his own. ¡°It is strange,¡± he said, starting again. ¡°You are not orcs. It seems you live in a different world. There is no ¡®allowed¡¯. There are actions,¡± he said, hitting a palm with the back of the other hand, ¡°and consequences.¡± He switched hands and repeated the gesture, then stood abruptly and walked away.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Skria asked. ¡°Should we follow him?¡±


    Lilijoy could only shrug. ¡°If we want to hear the Matrons.¡±


    That being the case, they stood and fell in behind Naduk.


    ¡°Do you think Jess will be there? I¡¯m worried. What if...¡±


    Lilijoy mostly tuned out Skria¡¯s latest recitation of concern. Her friend had a way of coming up with a great variety of catastrophic scenarios. She felt bad for her, but after the fifth or six version of all the bad things that could have happened to Jess, including timeless classics such as ¡®Jess has been charmed into forgetting us¡¯, and ¡®Jess has been turned into a mindless orc baby factory¡¯, Lilijoy had had enough.


    They walked for far longer than expected, through the sprawling males¡¯ encampment, a maze of structures neither tent nor building, but some unfortunate combination of the two, then through training grounds and housing for the untempered young. More and more orcs fell in around them. A band of Urkulps in tattered leather loped past on the left, and they were nearly run over by a formation of spear-wielding Orusk who charged up from behind, snorting and slobbering as they jogged by.


    Eventually, they arrived at a huge bowl-shaped depression, almost a stadium, though it was impossible to tell if it was natural or not. There, the orcs had self assembled into five wedges around the center. It was Lilijoy¡¯s first chance to get a real sense of the orcs¡¯ population as a whole and within each totem. Anda¡¯s group, the Urglah, were by far the least numerous, less than a tenth of the whole, with the other four totems fairly equal.


    There was no sign of the Matrons, just an open space in the center, ringed by small standing stones. They found a spot high enough on the rim of the bowl to see over the thousands of heads below and settled in to wait. Lilijoy tried to find Anda amid the crowd of Urglah, with no luck. Despite being a half-orc, he really didn¡¯t look much different than the full blooded. Perhaps his ears were a touch less pointed, his teeth a bit smaller and his fur a bit more sparse. While she looked, she thought about their conversation the night before.


    ¡°I finally got an audience with a Matron,¡± he told her. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding when you said they were intimidating. Made me feel like I was five.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth. ¡°It¡¯s on.¡±


    ¡°You mean you can...¡±


    ¡°...finally tell you what Nandi asked me to do in exchange for my rebirth.¡±


    She had clapped her hands in delight, which drew the attention of several Urglah who were lounging on the other side of the warming pit where the conversation was taking place. The pits were just that, holes crudely dug to take advantage of the geothermal warmth beneath their feet. According to Naduk, they hardly ever collapsed, filled with boiling water, or otherwise mortally inconvenienced their residents.


    Glaring back at the cat-featured orcs, Anda had switched to messaging through their systems.


    <Do you remember when I told you about my former clan¡¯s experiments with giving systems to very young children?>


    <How could I forget?>


    The memory played out in her head.


    ¡°...They gave the children systems really young, like five, six.¡± Anda was saying, ¡°The only time they spent Outside was for eating and exercise. The goal was to make unstoppable warriors for the clan¡¯s Inside development, but instead they got mental illness, stagnated growth and¡­ other weirdness. It¡¯s one of the reasons the Maasai now send in their youth relatively late.¡±


    Lilijoy was almost afraid to ask. ¡°Other weirdness?¡±


    Anda grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s all campfire stories at this point, a forbidden topic. Some of them refused to log out and their Outside bodies eventually died. The rumor is that they became ghosts on the Inside, demons who hunted any young child from the clan who came in. Others became¡­ detached from their Outside bodies, changing their Inside forms in impossible ways. When they would log out, they were violent and unpredictable, and many of them were eventually killed on the Outside.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    <It was¡­ disturbing> she replied, shivering through the waves of rising warmth.


    <I¡¯m afraid so. I don¡¯t know why it falls to me, but the ghosts, revenants, the remnants anyway, of my former clan¡¯s experiment persist, and I am tasked with¡­ solving the problem.>


    <Why the orcs?>


    <I need allies, I suppose. At the very least, I needed their permission. The Maasai revenants¡­ persist on a particular area of the Boiling Plains that borders the Great Grass Sea. The Matron told me that the orcs have been aware of them for some time, as they have a particular¡­ taste, I guess you could call it, for the young. After not a single young orc returned from their soul quest in that area over a span of years, the Urglah were sent in to investigate.>


    Lilijoy waited for him to continue, but Anda was lost in his thoughts.


    <And?> she prodded, wishing there was a fire to watch. The warming pits were, well, warm against the chill night air, but they didn¡¯t have much in the way of ambiance. Wood was far too valuable to burn, so they sat in the dark, though all present had excellent Low Light Vision, or equivalent abilities.


    <They found something that shouldn¡¯t be. Not in the Garden anyway. Their young greeted them with silent screams and rotted flesh.>


    <Oh. But...>


    <Well, I guess the name fit better than anyone knew.>


    <I doubt it was called that by accident. Someone knew.>


    <You would think the Archon would wave his hand and fix the situation. Or at least send in a Gongen or six.>


    <I would think exactly that. And yet here I am. Maybe you should ask Nandi.>


    <He wouldn¡¯t even tell me what your quest was. Maybe now that I know, he¡¯ll be more forthcoming.>


    She snapped back to the present when horns blew, announcing the arrival of the Matrons. Three figures that towered over the assembled males entered the natural stadium from the far end. The assembled orcs knelt as they passed, their faces upturned and proud. These Matrons were even bigger than Melloby, who Lilijoy had met earlier, and they were clad in many layers of dark leather that draped around their forms. She couldn¡¯t help but be reminded of Jessila¡¯s mode of dress, though unlike her friend¡¯s cow hides, this leather was dark, polished, and looked as if it would weigh hundreds of pounds.


    I wonder if Jess knew at some level that she was mimicking the dress of her ancestors?


    She had learned little bits and pieces of Jessila¡¯s story from Skria over the past couple days, mostly due to the Petauran girl¡¯s utter inability not to ramble. Her mother was half-elven, half-human, her father an Orsur orc. She was raised by her mother until she died when Jess was still little. After that, she found a home in some stables at the edge of a human town. She had never met her father, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he might be found in the masses below.


    It seemed unlikely, as most of the orc population outside the Boiling Plains was untempered, boys who ran away when they were unable to complete their soul quest.


    The Matrons reached the clearing on the center and stood shoulder to shoulder in an outward facing triangle.


    ¡°Fathers and fathers to be, we bring good news.¡± said one.


    ¡°Matron Melloby has given birth to ten sons.¡± said the next.


    ¡°We grow ever stronger.¡± said the third.


    Their voices were powerful and profound, somehow a deep bass and feminine at the same time.


    ¡°Sons and brothers, we wish to note the achievement of the newest among you.¡±


    ¡°Rise, Naduk, Vanquisher, Urkaen and son of Susallah.¡±


    There was a subdued murmur, as the orc males turned their heads to see where Naduk stood, near the back of the Urkaens.


    ¡°Naduk you are recognized for bringing to us a prize of inestimable value.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s heart beat a little faster, and she glanced over at Skria.


    ¡°An Orc Maid has returned!¡±


    A sharp roar went up from the males and Skria elbowed Lilijoy. ¡°There she is!¡±


    At the edge of the gathering, Jessila emerged, now clad in the same dark, flowing leathers as the Matrons. She began to walk to the center, the layers of cloak-like garments covering her from head to foot.


    ¡°Jessila is a sign to us from the Archon,¡± one of the Matrons continued, once the tumult subsided.


    ¡°Within her is a bloodline thought lost in the years of death.¡±


    ¡°Her orc blood dominates the blood from the other races.¡±


    ¡°As will ever the orcs dominate.¡±


    ¡°We conquer and take those strengths within ourselves!¡±


    Jessila had reached the Matrons, and one of them reached down to remove her hood, revealing the long golden hair marking her elven heritage.


    There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the males began to chant the word ¡®conquer¡¯ with growing intensity. The Matrons nodded in approval, and Jessila stood, her face now utterly impassive. After a minute, the Matrons raised one hand each, and the chant stopped.


    ¡°With this sign from the Archon, it is time!¡± one said.


    ¡°Warriors, it is time to show our strength.¡±


    ¡°It is time to establish our dominance over the disputed areas next to our homeland.¡±


    ¡°Today we take the first step toward ending our exile!¡±


    ¡°Today we will show the Hated that we have not forgotten!¡±


    And now, for the first time, Jessila spoke.


    ¡°We go to war!¡±


    The thunderous chant of the males¡¯ response echoed in Lilijoy¡¯s ears for minutes after the assembly dispersed.


    ***


    After the assembly, the orcs launched into action, forming groups of various sizes and composition and heading in various directions. Skria ignored the commotion and made a beeline for Jess, gliding down to her. Lilijoy followed on foot, doing her best to avoid the very real prospect of being trampled be extremely focused and motivated orcs.


    By the time she reached the center, waving away the dust left behind by a thousand orc feet, she saw that Skria was perched on Jessila¡¯s shoulder, both of them overshadowed by the three Matrons who looked on with tolerant expressions. She hesitated just a bit when all three of the nine-foot leather-draped behemoths turned their gaze to her.


    ¡°You may approach, small human,¡± one of them said. ¡°Melloby and Jessila have spoken of and for you. You have a role to play in what will come, if you so desire.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Grand Matron is it?¡± Lilijoy called back.


    All three nodded, evidently less willing to engage in informality than Melloby had been. Lilijoy squeezed between the standing stones. She wasn¡¯t a huge fan of hugs, less because of any inhibition than because almost everyone was so much taller than she was, which just made the whole endeavor awkward. Nonetheless, she made an exception, planting her face just above Jess¡¯s hip. The leathers she wore were faintly scaled, but smooth and softer than they looked. She couldn¡¯t quite place the smell, but it was definitely better than the roughly crafted hides Jess had worn for so long.


    ¡°I missed you,¡± she said, once she had backed up enough to take in her friend¡¯s face. ¡°Congratulations?¡±


    Jess smiled back at her but didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°Come,¡± came the voice of a matron from above their heads. ¡°There is much to discuss, and little time.¡±


    They followed the three towering figures out of the natural stadium, exchanging hushed conversation as they went.


    ¡°So really, Jess, is everything okay? What have you been doing?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°Learning,¡± she replied. ¡°They accepted me quickly.¡±


    ¡°Then why couldn¡¯t I see you?¡± Skria complained. ¡°I was so worried!¡±


    Jessila ignored her question. ¡°Everything makes sense now. The Matrons are very wise. They know much more than anyone would expect.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± asked Lilijoy, hoping this didn¡¯t indicate Jess had been brainwashed somehow. It sounded a little like something someone who had been charmed might say.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see. They¡¯ve been waiting for a very long time. They also have a message for you.¡±


    ¡°From who?¡±


    ¡°From the last Child of Guardian. From Sarah.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 46: Share

    Interlude: Quimea


    2081


    Alfonse had been in many tense situations in his life. It was, after all, somewhat inevitable given his upbringing and line of work. It never failed to amaze him though, how utterly incapable his body was at sorting true danger, the sort that resulted in broken fingers, perhaps slit throats, from that foggier, fictional danger created by the imagination.


    Thankfully, he had a system to take care of both now.


    Yet, as he left the-- interview? --- with the strange clock-faced being he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sensation of dread. While it had been years since he had felt the pounding heart and sweaty palms of physical fear, he had never been tempted to interfere with his mind¡¯s keen attunement to danger, and now, despite the sure knowledge of the safety of his true body, his imagination couldn¡¯t help but respond to his complete lack of control, his ignorance of what lay around each new corner.


    The steadily dimming light resolved the ambivalent atmosphere toward twilight, and as the path led away from the misted pond and turned to a field of sapling trees, he found himself with a new choice. The path, now a rutted thing of dried dirt and leaves, split just ahead. One choice led deeper into the woods; if he looked carefully he could see a dark crown of forest against the sky in that direction. The other choice continued through the saplings, but beyond he thought he could see rolling hills, spotted with dim lights, perhaps signs of habitation.


    Either way he went, it would be too dark to see soon. Ironically, this might make the woods a better bet, since his system was capable of rudimentary echolocation and would work much better surrounded by massive hardwood pillars. Still, that did not dissuade him from turning to the hills. If there were people there, or simulacrums of such, he would have far more options than in the lonely woods.


    He took a moment to ponder his choice. After he had taken his seat on the golden throne, he had spent a substantial amount of time telling the construct about himself. If he understood the function of this trial correctly, it was a translation process, a way to adapt who he was in the real world to a vast virtual space that had once been a game. Alfonse had never been particularly fond of the various virtual games common before Guardian had made its disruptive entry onto the world stage, but the value of DayNight and its ilk as hubs for secure communications, particularly the type of communications necessary for a multinational cartel to function, had made them a regular presence in his life. The built-in translation, the relative anonymity and the safety of meeting in the game could not be found any other way, so he had logged many hours as one character or another, always under some version of his cartel name, Alchemist.


    When he had finally decided to ask another question of the construct back at the pavilion, it was a simple one.


    ¡°Was that information useful to you?¡±


    The black line swept around until it had wiped away the childish mouth, replacing it with sunken gums and blotched wrinkles.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the amalgamation of old and young had replied, its voice quavering now. ¡°Very. You may proceed.¡±


    And that was it. It was still bothering him a bit, the feeling that he had complicated the situation with his tendency to overthink and scheme. It bothered him even more that he had been¡­ handled, in ways he didn¡¯t fully understand. He was just smart enough, or so he hoped anyway, to notice.


    This is what it¡¯s like to encounter a superintelligence, he mused. Not a battle of wits, but a complete envelopment.


    The sensation still lingered as he contemplated his own manipulations of those less intelligent than he. He couldn¡¯t help but think of the third of Guardian¡¯s rules, the one that suggested sentient rights were contingent on the degree to which the beings in question could model each other¡¯s internal states. Guardian could model his mind in detail a million times over, if its Rules were to be believed.


    He couldn¡¯t help but shudder a little, and despise himself for the weakness. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and unnecessary. He knew he should consider Guardian more like an environment than a rival, a threat as pervasive and implacable as the vacuum of space.


    That¡¯s just it, he realized. The future of humanity will be determined by those who best understand our new environment, who study and understand the dangers and opportunities.


    He followed the winding path into the darkness, just barely able to resolve the surface a few feet in front of him by the subtle differences of reflected sound. Several times he heard the sounds of large creatures rustling the brush, or deep grunting noises from the darkness ahead. Each time he froze, using the time to meditate, for these supposed dangers were not enough to cause fear, or even concern, really. The real enemy in this trial was himself, not some beast hiding in the dark.


    The rest of the trial provided some challenge, even some enjoyment. A village, where he solved the mysterious disappearance of the Reeve¡¯s son from a locked room, led him to an ancient underground structure filled with traps and puzzles. He didn¡¯t take it seriously, not until he experienced his first death, slowly crushed in a room that shrank around him as he frantically tried to determine which of the arranged ingredients could be combined to create a potion that would allow him to shrink along with the room. Once again, the trial impressed him with its verisimilitude, and though he could use his system to render the experience less painful, the sound and sensation of his bones breaking and being driven into his internal organs lingered unpleasantly despite his best efforts to keep the memories from turning into long-term trauma.


    He was a bit disappointed by the conclusion of the trial, where he was forced to choose between the destruction of the village with which he had become familiar or a substantially larger city he had never traveled to. It was suitably dramatic, of course, involving a team of researchers he had rescued and then organized to fend off the oncoming doom, but once it became clear it was no more than a glorified trolley problem, he lost interest. Saving the greater number at the cost of the few was, in the end, a trivial decision.


    And then it was done. He found himself in a new location, on a hill overlooking a quaint river town.


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind,¡± Emily said, almost startling him. ¡°I asked the Archon to bring you to me when you were done. What did you think?¡±


    He brushed away the character sheet vying for his attention. ¡°The sensory data is beyond anything I¡¯ve experienced.¡±


    ¡°And the trial? Was it hard enough?¡±


    Her excitement was¡­ adorable. He hated to let her down. ¡°It was¡­ intriguing. I¡¯m probably not the right person to give that kind of feedback though.¡±


    She waved a hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure it will take a while for it to get calibrated. You¡¯re one of the very first, if not the first. The Archon may have a much grander mind than you or I, but he still doesn¡¯t really understand people that well.¡±


    Or that¡¯s what you are meant to think, he thought.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she continued, ¡°What are you going to call yourself? You can¡¯t just use Alfonse Cortez.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Dr. Alfonse Cortez to you,¡± he joked.


    She punched him in the arm. ¡°Online degrees don¡¯t count. Besides, my dad always said his PhD stood for ¡®piled higher and deeper¡¯¡±


    It was the first time she had mentioned her father, but he didn¡¯t want to pry.


    ¡°I usually use something related to alchemy,¡± he said. ¡°On DayNight I was Alquimista.¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°A little on the nose, don¡¯t you think? I¡¯m sure you can be more creative than that.¡± She snapped her fingers. ¡°I know! Your first name¡¯s Alfonse, so why not make a pun out of it. Let¡¯s see¡­ how about Al Lembic?¡±


    He shook his head. Choosing a name for an online character was not something he had ever spent more than a few seconds on. Still, this was something he might live with for a long time.


    ¡°Not crazy about that one. It¡¯s a nice idea but...¡±


    ¡°Alfonse,¡± she said with a mock serious expression. ¡°You need to live a little.¡± She blew her hair out of her eyes. ¡°Fine. What about Al Quimista? That¡¯s Dr. Quimista to you, bud,¡± she said in a low voice.


    He couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Closer. Sounds too much like chemist in English. I think Quimea would be perfect. The ¡®Al¡¯ part can be our little joke.¡±


    ¡°The mighty and mysterious Dr. Quimea has been born!¡± Emily exclaimed. ¡°All will hear his name and tremble!¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    <hr>


    Chapter 46: Share


    Dear ???,


    I apologize in advance if I ramble. My name is Sarah, or really, originally, Sarai Senbatu. I entrusted this letter to Delika, a friend of surpassing goodness and loyalty, in the event that things don¡¯t go the way I hope. Or maybe if they do? I don¡¯t know anymore. Oops, rambling already. Anyway, I just wanted there to be a chance that you might benefit from what I¡¯ve learned. Maybe things will be better for you, and this will seem pathetic. Maybe I¡¯m just trying to make myself feel better by leaving some record of my existence.


    I was never supposed to be here. Inside I mean. I grew up in what used to be called Ethiopia, in a small community of the twice-exiled. That¡¯s not really important though. The year is 2205. Three years ago I inherited a legacy from my great-grandfather, by which I mean the nano-devices currently crawling around in my brain. It¡¯s a long story. If Delika is still around, maybe she¡¯ll tell it to you. Anyway, our rule is to keep to ourselves, tend our gardens, such as they are, and trust in the will of God. What that really means is that we hide from the clans and starve.


    I don¡¯t know why Guardian thinks I¡¯m some kind of ¡®chosen one¡¯. I never asked for it. I¡¯m the fourth, or so the Insiders tell me. Let me tell you what I do know, or think I do anyway. I¡¯ve been having visions, waking dreams. They are hard to explain. Maybe you are already having them? In them, I feel like I am a bystander, a witness to what I guess you could call a conversation in archetypes. There are gods (little ¡®g¡¯), spirits, and great concepts like death and love. The thing is, these are like the words in the conversation.


    I¡¯m probably not explaining it well. But I think Guardian is using me as a conduit to reach something. A collective unconscious?? If it were conscious. I think we (by which I mean humans) have got it all wrong somehow, that we¡¯re too small to see or we don¡¯t have the right senses, and we¡¯ve been trying for thousands of years, when we talk about God. But as soon as we talk about God, God is no longer there, and the conversation just becomes another circle of words in our head.


    I hope I¡¯m not bothering you with the religious talk. I was raised that way, but I think most people aren¡¯t now. It¡¯s just too hard to keep the Commandments when Guardian is so¡­ there, with its Rules. I haven¡¯t gotten close to many Outsiders, but I¡¯ve talked to enough of them to know that hardly anyone thinks the way my family does any more. (Sorry, more rambling)


    Anyway, back to the visions. They¡¯ve been getting stronger, and I think I¡¯m beginning to understand, a little. There¡¯s something I¡¯m supposed to do, but I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m to be Abraham or Isaac, or both somehow (hopefully you can look that up if you don¡¯t get it). Basically, I feel like there¡¯s a choice coming, that somehow, everything is going to come down to one pathetically small pile of brain cells that calls itself Sarah and the problem is, I¡¯m not ready.


    Is that why the others vanished? Did they make the right choice or the wrong choice?


    So why write this? Maybe you are reading it soon enough to prepare better. I feel like I¡¯m close, as if I could pull it together if I could just hold more in my head. If you are as late in the process as I am, at least know that you have a friend across time who understands as little as you do, but if this came to you earlier¡­ Well, study, I guess? Learn and become wise. Wiser than me, anyway. There are many great teachers among the Insiders. Listen to them.


    Watch for the signs and portents Outside too. I thought I was being overly imaginative, or perhaps mentally ill at times, but now I understand. There are miracles in that cruel world still. (I almost didn¡¯t write that previous sentence, because I don¡¯t want you to think me mad. Please don¡¯t think me mad!)


    Your Friend Across Time,


    Sarah


    The torn, yellowed paper was covered front to back in cramped, slanted writing. If she looked just right, she could filter out the translation to perceive the original symbols, Hebrew she was quite certain. She let the paper fall to her side, surprised by the depth of emotion she was feeling, emotions she couldn¡¯t place just yet, though they felt almost like relief.


    Holy crap. That poor girl. I wonder if she really was a little mad.


    She felt a little bad when she thought it, but it couldn¡¯t be ruled out.


    She transferred the paper to her inventory, and the sealed envelope addressed simply to ¡®The Next Child¡¯, and wondered if Delika was one of the Matrons. Unfortunately, there was no way to find out at the moment. She, with Anda, Jess, Skria and a Urkulps guide were in instanced travel. Although¡­


    ¡°Jess, were any of the Matrons named Delika?¡±


    Jessila shrugged. ¡°Not that I know.¡±


    The meeting with the Grand Matrons had been a rushed affair, for they had many pressing demands on their time. Two of them had rushed off, or more lumbered off, leaving one to explain the situation. Or less an explanation, and more instructions. They could, if they were so willing, join Anda on his side expedition to the Rotted Land. Or they could join the vast majority of the orc forces in occupying a different portion of the border between the Boiling Plains and the Great Grass Sea.


    The letter had been given to her almost as an afterthought. She had waited until they were under way to open it.


    ¡°What¡¯s it say?¡± Anda asked.


    She pulled the letter back out and handed it to him. ¡°It makes me sad I¡¯ll never meet her,¡± she said. My friend across time. Too bad I can¡¯t reply.


    It felt strange to receive a letter written specifically for her, or potentially Attaboy, by someone who had been gone for almost thirty years, like nostalgia for a place she had never been. Yet it felt good to have a companion on this specific journey, good that someone understood in a way that none of her¡­ present friends could. Somehow, that feeling overshadowed her concern that soon, she or Attaboy might be seeing visions and encountering signs and portents.


    She had to wonder though, how much Sarah¡¯s background influenced her perceptions. She would probably never know for certain, but the last name, and of course the location, led her to think that Sarah might be an Ethiopian Jew. That portion of the world, and the whole Middle East really, had been in terrible shape decades before Guardian complicated things further. Perhaps the biggest surprise was that there was anyone at all still living on the Horn of Africa.


    Though they might not be there still, she thought. Thirty years is plenty of time for a small group on the edge of starvation to disappear. Twice-exiled. I wonder if they came back to Ethiopia from Israel.


    ¡°Well. That¡¯s certainly something to think about,¡± said Anda, handing back the letter. ¡°Signs and portents. I don¡¯t suppose you or Attaboy have...¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No visions that I know of. I¡¯d like to think he would tell me if something like that was happening.¡±


    Anda snorted, but didn¡¯t say anything.


    ***


    The use of instanced travel as a tactical measure was not something Lilijoy had considered before the short journey they had just finished. The orcs had it down to a science though, and their travels brought them right to the edge of the Rotted Lands at the same time as several other small groups, a largely uneventful trip through desert terrain altogether preferable to that of the Boiling Plains. Other than a fight with a band of centauroid Gila monster things and a nerve-wracking episode with a forest of towering cacti that rained spikes, it had almost been pleasant.


    Elsewhere, she understood, the entire orc population of the Boiling Plains was on the move, down to the smallest child. She hoped they knew what they were doing, but she had her own concerns.


    ¡°I¡¯m still a little foggy on what we¡¯re supposed to do to ¡®probably-not-really-undead ghost-zombie things¡¯. Assuming we can even kill them somehow, won¡¯t they just respawn eventually?¡± she asked Anda.


    He plucked another cactus spine from his woven shield before answering. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering that too. My assumption is that it must be something that only I can do, which isn¡¯t that long a list. Maybe we¡¯re not trying to destroy them, but change them somehow, bring them into alignment with the Inside.¡± He plucked another spine. ¡°I¡¯m an exiled Maasai, so there could be some common ground, if they can be reasoned with.¡± He didn¡¯t sound particularly hopeful about the prospect.


    ¡°It seems unlikely that all they need is someone who understands their problems in life. Death. Whatever. I bet it¡¯s something to do with the Tao System,¡± Lilijoy added.


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m afraid that may be the case. It almost seems that we¡¯re being used to clean up the Archon¡¯s messes, doesn¡¯t it, with you and Averdale, and then me and the orcs and this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll warn Attaboy not to get involved with any dwarves.¡±


    Anda chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ve actually wondered if the main reason I¡¯m involved is to bring you along. I don¡¯t have any unique abilities and you have two. Maybe you need to do your mind meld trick.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should try to teach you?¡±


    He looked up at that. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s possible?¡±


    ¡°I think it would depend on how badly you wanted to learn it.¡± She already had an idea for how it could work, but it really would depend on them both wanting the same thing.


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered it before.¡± He plucked a few more cactus spines. ¡°To be honest, it sounds a little too real, if that makes sense. It¡¯s one thing to use magic for Stealth or fighting, but to join my thoughts to something that¡¯s not me, I¡¯m not ashamed to admit, feels a little frightening.¡±


    ¡°It can be,¡± she agreed. ¡°I started doing it before I had any idea what I was doing. I was too ignorant to be afraid. Now, though, I¡¯m reluctant to use it without a good reason.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder what this might mean for Anda¡¯s potential to advance within Stage two of the Tao System though. The ego destroying soul blender was many times more terrifying than her Two Minds One Self ability.


    This might be the best way to find out if he would be in danger, she decided.


    ¡°I think you should try to learn it anyway,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not like I lose myself completely. Usually. Just don¡¯t try to use it with a mind thousands of times bigger than yours, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    He gave her a searching look, then smiled.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m the one with all the talk about being a warrior and using fear as the resistance to train my spirit. I can hardly set such a bad example as to let it dissuade me now.¡± He set down the shield. ¡°How do you propose we go about this?¡±


    ¡°It starts with a place of common ground, where desires or instincts overlap. Beyond that, it¡¯s different every time. Animals are more fickle, plants more stubborn, sentients¡­ well, as you might imagine, thinking beings are each unique. It helps if they have a very strong desire or point of focus, as long as that desire isn¡¯t refusal to merge in the first place.¡±


    Anda made a sound of understanding. ¡°I think I understand why you said it depends on how badly I want to learn it now. You want to use the ability with me, and use my learning the ability as our common ground?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to think about that for a bit,¡± he said. ¡°We aren¡¯t going in until night falls. So I have a few hours to procrastinate.¡±


    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, it¡¯s not like we can read each other¡¯s minds, really. It¡¯s more like doing something with such a unity of purpose that you just flow together. We would learn a lot about each other¡¯s motivations, if it works at all though, so it¡¯s not exactly private either.¡±


    ¡°I feel bad that I¡¯m hesitating,¡± Anda said. ¡°The more I think about it...¡± he slapped his thigh. ¡°Never mind what I said before. Let¡¯s do it. How often does one get an opportunity to learn a life-changing ability?¡± He held up a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t answer that.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 47: Glimpse

    The air shimmered, refracting the red sliver of sun on the horizon. It carried a faint smell of putrefaction, adding an oily underpinning to the sulfurous stench of the Boiling Plains.


    The border of the Rotting Land was clear to see, alarmingly so. The sharp-edged rocks, hardy lichens and occasional sprawling vine gave way, in the span of tens of feet, to crumbling, porous rubble, requiring no more than a footstep to create a sandy ash that billowed underfoot. Each footfall was an unsatisfying encounter with a sensation of indeterminate sinking lacking crunch or resistance, like pulling on a knuckle already cracked. If there was any life to be found, it was well hidden.


    Lilijoy watched the orc scouts move in a precise fanned formation a hundred feet in front of her, their Stealth utterly ineffective in the terrain. Her party, Anda included, were surrounded by two dozen more orcs, a combination of support for Anda and honor guard for Jessila. The Matrons did not believe in sheltering or coddling their newest Maid, but it was clear they intended her to be well equipped, both in weapons and personnel. The bulk of the forces were twelve mighty Orsurs, and a more even mix of the other totems, each fulfilling its own specialized role, not unlike the members of a well organized adventuring party.


    The Orsurs were the bulwarks, the Orusks the savage, charging offense, the Urkulps the scouts and sentries, the Urkaen the utility, trappers and looters, and the Urglah¡­ pretty much did whatever they wanted. They were cat-types after all.


    The Rotted Land had not always been as it was now, though it had always been a particularly treacherous piece of the Boiling Plains, known for toxic fumes and unreliable ground filled with voids and sinkholes that could collapse without warning. Something had changed over the past decades though, according to those that remembered. Corrosion had taken the land, as if the destructive effects of time had accelerated, the weathering and erosion of millennia compressed into scant years. There was no doubt in Lilijoy¡¯s mind that this was somehow related to the Maasai revenants, though she had no clue what possible mechanism could be at work.


    The sun finished its descent as the band moved forward and the land turned gray as her Low Light Vision kicked in. The only sound was the soft swish of their feet and the sporadic yips of the scouts as they communicated. The darkness closed around them, pressed on them, and it wasn¡¯t long before Skria¡¯s nerves began to show.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± she whispered into Jessila¡¯s ear. ¡°It¡¯s too dark.¡±


    Skria being nervous in such situations wasn¡¯t really a new phenomenon, but Lilijoy had to agree. It really was too dark. The sun had barely set, and already her senses were picking up no more than they had in the utter black of the Labyrinth. She had lost track of the scouts, even in the infrared spectrum, and couldn¡¯t tell if they had been hidden by some vague contour of the land or swallowed by the night in some other, more ominous way.


    ¡°When¡¯s the last time you heard a scout?¡± she whispered up to Anda.


    ¡°A minute ago,¡± he replied. She could see him swiveling his head, straining to see past the edge of their group. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡±


    He loped over to one of the Urkulps who had stayed closer in to the group. ¡°Why are the scouts silent?¡± Lilijoy heard him ask.


    ¡°Danger.¡± She could just barely make out the orc shaking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t alert the enemy. Only...¡± he shrugged, ¡°one should return.¡±


    An uncomfortable feeling washed over Lilijoy, as if she was exposed somehow, a mouse in the middle of the kitchen floor, caught out when the lights came on. Word was quickly passed through the band, and they came to a halt, straining with all available senses to process their environment. It was then that Lilijoy realized an ominous detail. The land surrounding them was utterly void of mana. She searched her memories for when, exactly, this had happened, scouring her unconscious awareness for details, but it had been a gradual fading, an incremental change that began as they entered the Rotted Land.


    Another unpleasant possibility occurred to her, and she surveyed the rest of the band with her senses. Everything seemed washed out and faded, as if the darkness was leeching from them. It wasn¡¯t just her mana sense either. Across every spectrum, from light to heat to mana, her companions were dark, and getting darker, little more than silhouettes.


    <My senses aren¡¯t working right> she messaged Anda.


    <This is bad> he agreed. <I had thought it was something external, extra dark darkness or the like. But now that you put it that way, I think you¡¯re right. Our abilities aren¡¯t working right.>


    All around her, the orcs were muttering, looking around uneasily and holding their weapons at the ready. <Have you ever encountered anything like this?> she sent.


    <No. Or rather, not here. Not in the Garden.>


    She put aside the implications for a moment. ¡°Skria, can you conjure up a breeze?¡±


    She had learned the hard way that earth magic should only be used in emergencies on the Boiling Plains. Although attracting a Regional Lord had been disproportionate, the orcs, or more specifically the Matrons, only used earth magic when they absolutely had to, due to the fact that it attracted more trouble than it was generally worth.


    After a few moments, Skria turned to her, her face barely visible now, even though she was only a few feet away. Lilijoy could just make out her wide eyes and trembling lips.


    ¡°No,¡± she whispered. ¡°What¡¯s happening? We need to leave. Now.¡±


    Her voice had an edge of panic.


    That was when the screams began.


    At first Lilijoy thought it was the wind, though the air was still. Her ears were tricked by the sound, the shrieking high pitch that warbled at the edges of her perception and sounded like no human voice. The sound came from all around, muffled and distant, yet also immediate, as if it originated just behind her. Though her Inside abilities were gone, her system was just fine, and she immediately accelerated her thoughts. As she did, the high pitched shriek slowed, subjectively, until she could hear dozens of voices crying out in anguish, a continuous expression of soul-rending pain. She estimated that they were sounding three or four times faster than they should, and wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of that.


    All around her the others were reacting, molasses movements of readiness and defense. Weapons were rising, knees were bending. Her echolocation was still working well enough to show her that, though she couldn¡¯t make out the expressions on their faces. A quick inventory of her internal mana came up empty, though her Soul Vortex was still humming along.


    I hope that means I can use Nandi¡¯s Boon if I need to, she thought. Without a far better understanding of what was happening, she was reluctant to test that just yet though. Somewhere, lurking in the back of her mind, was the fear that opening a passage to her Trial Space might be a very bad choice, like opening a window on a submarine.


    <Quick question> she sent to Anda, <are we suddenly in Purgatory?>


    While she awaited his reply, she analyzed the data her system was receiving. It did seem to have a distinctly different¡­ flavor, or perhaps format from what she was used to Inside. She wasn¡¯t terribly afraid for herself; the fact the she could look out over the rubble of Guayaquil through the late afternoon haze with her Outside eyes kept her grounded. But on behalf of her Inside friends, she was alternating between concerned and genuinely terrified. This place they were in was already breaking the rules of the Garden. Who was to say that Skria and Jess would respawn normally?


    Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself. No catastrophizing, she admonished herself. It was hard not to speculate while she waited for Anda¡¯s reply though. Perhaps the reason the Archon hadn¡¯t taken care of this issue was because he literally could not. There was a corruption here, and she suspected that the Maasai revenants had found a way to sustain themselves within the mind of Guardian that was distinctly parasitic.


    They were only kids, she reminded herself. Not some kind of evil spirit. Right?


    Finally, Anda¡¯s reply came. <No. Not Purgatory. But¡­ maybe not Garden either. The others shouldn¡¯t be here. I¡¯m calling a full retreat.>


    She fully endorsed that idea. The screams were still growing in volume, the raw sound a high squeal like feedback growing out of control. Skria was in the process of moving her hands to her ears, and the orcs¡¯ shoulders hunched in discomfort, though none were relinquishing their grips on spears and clubs to cover their ears just yet.


    Over the next seconds, Anda began to rouse the orcs into motion, slapping arms and chests and gesturing his directions. Jess, following his lead, began to do the same. Lilijoy felt bad about the scouts. Abandoning self-aware beings to an unknown fate didn¡¯t sit right with her, not when she was also sitting on a South American rooftop in relative comfort. There were times when she missed the complete immersion of an undivided attention, but this was not one of them.


    <I¡¯m going to get the scouts> she sent, already moving into action. It was frustrating to feel her Inside form move so slowly, but she had no Flash to speed things along, and far too much time to think. She couldn¡¯t help but notice that her Natural stats were just fine, that whatever was going on in the Rotted Land was still somehow adhering to some of the rules of the Garden and had its own internal consistency. So far at least.


    <Don¡¯t! No¡­ oh crap. Fine.> sent Anda. <Just¡­ leave some for me, okay? I don¡¯t want to have learned that ability for nothing.>


    <Our abilities don¡¯t work now, remember?>


    Running over rocks that crumbled at the merest touch was worse than running through fine sand, especially since there was no easy way to guess just how far one''s foot was about to sink before gathering enough resistance to push into the next step. The endeavor carried all the charm and grace of running through a swamp, and felt like a diabolic punishment for her fast moving perceptions. She had traveled all of ten feet before Anda¡¯s reply came.


    <I bet this one will. It¡¯s¡­ different.>


    She couldn¡¯t argue with that. Using Two Minds One Self to teach Two Minds One Self to Anda had been, to exactly no one¡¯s surprise, quite the odd experience. Performing the ability on a fellow Tao System user had produced a mixture of magic and technology, of system messages about ¡®communication protocol negotiations¡¯ and ¡®quantum key distributions¡¯ somehow packaged into mystical unity, at least for the sliver of overlapping Venn diagrams that contained their shared purpose.


    In hindsight, it was clear that Two Minds One Self had origins more practical than magical, that Lilijoy had stumbled on something akin to a utility those many months ago when she reached out to the tiny lizard biting her toe. That the Inside system had receptors for her transmission, a lock for her key, had its own implications, a reinforcement of the essential compatibility between the Tao System and Guardian. It was no surprise, not in light of all she had learned, but it was a noteworthy narrowing of the parameters for the relationship, a clarification pointing to closer kinship.


    Exactly why the Tao System had a mechanism for sharing bits of narrative consciousness was an interesting subject for future contemplation. As was the experience itself, for somewhere in that brief merger of conscious intent, that unification of message, Lilijoy felt like she had encountered something bigger than both of them, a higher level of awareness that was the sea that contained their thoughts, a medium that was both the substance of consciousness and its container.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Perhaps it was simply that Sarah¡¯s letter had primed her, turned her brain¡¯s vast capacity for pattern recognition toward cosmic pareidolia, but she felt the experience of entraining the symbolic substance of her internal narrative with another Outsider, another discrete biological entity, had given her a glimpse of something that might relate to her and Anda in much the same way Guardian related to Skria and Jess. Was it God? A god? Or, as Sarah had said, was it a collective unconscious that was, in a way she didn¡¯t, perhaps couldn¡¯t understand, conscious itself?


    Oddly the notion that kept returning to her was from her conversation with Starcoil, the uncomfortable dichotomy between processing speed and intelligence. If a human mind was a subset of something larger, still a big ¡®if¡¯ in her opinion, then that larger collective would necessarily think no faster than humans could share information among themselves. Like Starcoil¡¯s hypothetical thinking rocks, the thoughts, however profound, would occur on a wholly different time scale than human experience. And yet, those thoughts would have been accelerating over time, as every generation of communications technology enhanced the speed, the coupling of one mind to another. It struck her that her ability, this utility for removing the division of thoughts between individuals, would have finally brought such a hypothetical human Great Mind into a time scale accessible to regular individual experience.


    All that had been stopped cold by the rise of Guardian. Not that things had been going particularly well before then. If there was some type of encompassing mind spanning, or perhaps emergent from, all humanity, the poor thing had definitely been having some kind of nervous breakdown, as far as Lilijoy could guess.


    What does it mean when a god becomes psychotic? she wondered, pushing her glacial legs against the flocculant earth. What would that look like for Guardian? Minds are made of parts, and those parts compete and cooperate, merge and battle. They develop specialties, functions and malfunctions, are reinforced and pruned. Already I can have multiple independent entities within myself. According to Nandi, someday I can have an entire world. Would ¡®I¡¯ somehow be distinct from that, or would it be me? Would it be a possession or a component of my identity? Is that even a valid distinction?


    The sounds of her friends¡¯ and the orcs¡¯ retreat were barely audible over the howling screams she had shunted to the back of her awareness, but they were slowly growing more distant. Her feet grew heavier with every stride, the soft, ashy material deeper. The dark and the noise pressed on her from all sides, and she began to wonder if she was even moving forward at all. Nonetheless, she pressed on, following the barely perceptible rise and fall of the land.


    She found the first body after several endless minutes, stumbled over it, half buried in the ashy ground. Her vision was almost worthless by this point, but the smell of rot came to her nose as she half fell atop the fetid thing.


    This can¡¯t be one of the scouts. Whoever it is has been dead for days, at least.


    The flesh beneath her squished between her fingers as she tried to push herself up, and she turned her efforts into a roll, just to get away from the hideous sensation, wiping her finger as best she could on what passed for earth.


    Then she felt the hand grab onto her ankle.


    ***


    ¡°Everything moves in circles,¡± said Lord Josho. ¡°From the heavens to the smallest atom. All things have a center to which they fall unless they spin. Understand this if you wish to act correctly in the world. Always ask ¡®where is the center?¡¯. Always attempt to understand what force impels you as you orbit. Only then can you choose whether to contract or expand.¡±


    This was about the tenth of Lord Josho¡¯s teaching sessions Magpie had attended. At first, they had been a way to make a public display of her respect for the leader of the clan, while conveniently reminding the others in attendance that she was, somehow, important enough to be invited. The sessions were a mix of philosophy, physical training and meditation, and while her motives for attending had not been especially pure at the outset, she had come to realize that underneath the seeming platitudes there was¡­ something. Wisdom, maybe, though she wasn¡¯t sure she would recognize true wisdom if it slapped her in the face.


    Whatever it was, she liked it. It made her feel included in something, even if she wasn¡¯t entirely sure what that something was.


    ¡°When your opponent moves toward you, they become a system with you, with its own center. Learn to recognize this center. It moves with you, with them, or rather you both move around it, and it only seems to move. When they charge you, recognize how you fall toward it. When they attack, your center must finish the journey, until your center and the center of the system are the same. Then you will have complete control over their movement.¡±


    And the prize for most use of the word ¡®center¡¯ goes to¡­. she thought.


    It didn¡¯t matter if she understood, or that when they moved from philosophy to practice, her own years of training inevitably took over any notions of hypothetical centers. What mattered was that she could pretend, for at least a few more days, that she belonged. The Josho clan was just as political and petty as she had imagined such an organization would be, just as predictably¡­ human, and yet it was also full of people striving for a common good, led by this man who was nothing like she might have imagined.


    Lord Josho summoned her, as he often did, for tea after the early morning ritual of teaching and training. As was also typical, they made polite small talk. In the form of him asking innocuous questions and her replying without feeling the need to analyze or dissemble. It was unlike any relationship she had had in her life, and she could almost imagine this was what it would have been like to have a grandfather. That the powerful and wise Lord, for whom thousands would sacrifice their comfort, safety and even lives, chose to spend even a portion of his day with a Filipina street rat turned rogue no longer threw her as it had. Her distrust and cynicism seemed to have lifted, leaving her free to float through the skies.


    ¡°And what of your plans for the afternoon, Magpie? Still tied up with that unpleasant business in Stonebridge?¡±


    Magpie had never left that seemingly quaint city straddling the Southfall River, despite the Sea¡¯s siren call. Instead, she had found herself drawn in to the life of the city. The clan presence was light there, as the environs of the city had little in the way of special resources or challenges of the type Outsiders coveted. Wood, fruit and barrel upon barrel of cider were what drove the economy. Once, several generations ago, the city¡¯s relative proximity to the Great Grass Sea had led to occasional incursions from bands of orc warriors, but now of course, that was only a distant memory, ancient history for most of the Insiders who lived there.


    ¡°I got the orphans settled, and managed to¡­ persuade the Malay clan nobility to stop using them as free labor.¡± She felt a stirring of pride at the accomplishment, another relatively new sensation in her emotional life. It felt good to relate her accomplishments to Lord Josho, strange as it was that he liked to hear about them.


    ¡°Good,¡± he nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever mentioned it to you, but that city was where I first arrived on the Inside. Many of the first generation of Outsiders did. I still have a certain nostalgia for that time. 2083, if you can believe it. Outside of the city, there¡¯s a natural standing stone where we used to carve our names as we arrived. I¡¯m not sure who started the tradition, but you should look for it if you¡¯re ever bored.¡±


    It truly was difficult for Magpie to wrap her head around Lord Josho¡¯s lifespan.


    ¡°How many of you are left?¡± she asked, daring to ask a question. ¡°Are you all clan heads now?¡±


    He shook his head slowly, his eyes sorrowful. ¡°Oh no. Most of us died long before the Earth became stable once more. It took years, decades, before the alchemists, and the odd engineer,¡± he said with a gesture to himself, ¡°learned how to make use of the resources of the Inside to improve life in the real world.¡±


    Magpie smiled, internally of course, at his old-fashioned language.


    ¡°There were no clans for even longer, at least not in the way we have them today. That all came when some of us stumbled upon¡­ the next realm. It was a¡­ necessary compromise, one we still live with today, for better and worse.¡±


    History wasn¡¯t a great interest of Magpie¡¯s. The ancients, she knew, had prized it; the internet archive was replete with the most trivial details from bygone eras, and endless discussion and bickering over what it all meant. It seemed to her that they treated it like some type of magic, that if they just knew more, just understood a little better, somehow they might gain power to control the present. That was wishful thinking of the type she had been trained to avoid. The power of information wasn¡¯t lost on her, of course, but it seemed to her that such knowledge had a certain expiration date, beyond which it became clutter.


    But she really enjoyed it when Lord Josho talked about the old times. Perhaps it was, she mused, because it was from a living person, and thus relevant by definition.


    ¡°I never knew the clans came from the Inside,¡± she said.


    His expression tightened; for a moment she worried she had crossed some invisible line of offense. It would hardly be the first time.


    ¡°That, young Magpie, is a difficult subject. Dangerous even. The Inside has changed, is changing, the very social fabric of humanity. Of course it would, everything in our environment acts upon us individual and collective alike. But there is a purposeful quality to this. Perhaps it is my training as an engineer, but I can see that we are being maneuvered, machined and manipulated as a society, finely tooled to fit together in ways that suit an unknown purpose. Have you ever thought about how your brain produces your self?¡±


    She nodded, then shook her head, not sure if she really had, or if it was just the kind of thing one should have done, and thus pretended to.


    He quirked an eyebrow and continued. ¡°It emerges, appears out of the collective activity of billions of neurons. It is a topic that lends itself to philosophy and mysticism, but viewed dispassionately, it isn¡¯t all that mysterious. The world is replete with similar phenomena. The self is a layer, a construct. The Buddha had it right in calling it an illusion. But it begs the question. Why is it that we assume the self is the only thing that emerges from the brain?¡± He shook his head. ¡°But I ramble. Perhaps in some years, you will return with a better understanding of such things. Your time with us is coming to an end after all.¡±


    It was surprisingly hard to hear him say it. Being on Kuroudonain had made her realize just how big a hole leaving the Flock had left within her, and some part of her wanted to stay, to float among the clouds, disconnected from the world and all its problems. It was hard to admit to herself, but she had even held out a small hope that she might be asked to join the Josho clan, to belong.


    I could place my loyalty with Lord Josho, she mused, thinking of Raven¡¯s lecture to her on the subject. I really could. But he doesn¡¯t need it. He probably doesn¡¯t even want it.


    She sat back on her heels and sipped her tea. ¡°Why?¡± she finally asked. ¡°Why have you been so good to me?¡±


    Lord Josho looked at her directly, and once again she almost felt she could see a faint golden aura surrounding him, an artifact of the paper lanterns behind his head, she decided. The air filled with an odd sense of granularity and her ears filled with a gentle rushing sound.


    ¡°It is my way,¡± he replied, ¡°my path, to build up, to nurture. The Inside changed me, connected me to the wisdom of the best of us, and so burdened me with impossibilities. My clan is my garden, my haven from the demands of the world upon my path, and when I found something new growing there, I had to choose. Would I remove it as an unwanted weed, purge it as a foreign intrusion on my design, or would I attempt to nurture it and bring it into balance with its, with her, surroundings? I have learned that such occurrences offer us a glimpse of that which emerges, of a larger meaning we participate in and generate without awareness.¡±


    He brought his cup up to his mouth, cupped gently between two hands that could crush steel. ¡°Also,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s really nice to talk to someone who hasn¡¯t heard all of my stories a hundred times.¡±


    ***


    Lilijoy kicked against the clasping fingers before they had fully closed, one advantage of thinking fast enough to perceive and act upon the faintest stimulus. It¡¯s probably just one of the scouts, she thought, or Anda decided to follow me. And grab my ankle.


    The disadvantage of thinking fast was that she had to wait for her head to finish turning, had time to process the implications of nothing new registering on her poorly functioning echolocation. She had a subjective eternity to ruminate and consider the fact that, in all likelihood, a decomposing corpse had just grabbed her ankle, that her senses were barely functional, that her abilities were gone and her skills mundane. In short, she was an entirely normal, very small girl, the monsters of the night were coming for her, and they smelled really, really bad.


    If it starts saying ¡®braaaaains¡¯, I am so out of here, she decided.


    All too soon, she had completed the process of swiveling her head, of turning her body to begin a crab walk through the thick ashy ground, and could see the rotted body she had stumbled over was indeed reaching out, its fingertips still closing in the space her ankle had just vacated. The screams intensified, their origin diffuse but encompassing, emanating from the air all around her. Her emotions pressed on her as well, not the external fields of emotional intent she had encountered in her Trial Space, but the genuine, homegrown article. Fear, helplessness and disgust warred for supremacy, each doing their best to take away the voice of her thoughts.


    She fought back, but not with her system, or at least not with the biological manipulation her system could provide. Instead, she absorbed them into her Soul Vortex, recorded and weighed them, spinning out her diamond mana to add clarity and context. This was not an occasion for joy and anticipation; those negative feelings were entirely appropriate, but the addition of the positive gave her a sense of purpose. and proportion. She felt helpless because her powers had been stripped away, fear because she did not understand her situation, disgust because¡­ well, because decay was really gross. In some ways, that was the most primordial biological mandate of all, for humans anyway.


    She was sure a vulture would be quite happy with that part of the situation.


    That¡¯s the biggest issue with zombie movies, she decided, still scrambling away. Not enough scavengers.


    Already, she could barely make out the slowly moving form of the mostly dead body that had grabbed her. She was still reluctant to use Nandi¡¯s boon to grab a torch or something, but she immediately realized she wouldn¡¯t need to. Instead she spun just enough diamond mana out to her palm and raised her palm, urging the boon to glow ever brighter.


    Built in flashlight. Not bad.


    The light revealed what she had feared, but not what she had expected. The corpse moved, writhed, its arm thrusting toward her, not in aggression but in supplication. It was the gesture of a man reaching for salvation, desperate to clasp, to grab anything thing that might slow an inevitable descent. And it wasn¡¯t a man, or not a human man, but an orc.


    She realized with horror that she had indeed found one of the scouts.


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 48: Reach

    The orcs had spent their time in exile well, that much Anda knew. Nothing focused the will of a martial culture as much as defeat, should it not break it entirely. Tempered Insiders were not ageless, and the oldest male orcs from before the expulsion had long since passed away, but their rage and desire for retribution lived on. Absent the resources to build a society, and led by the Matrons, who were far longer lived than the males, the orcs had spent generations doing little more than training, honing their society to a razor¡¯s edge of military sharpness, their personal power grown and tested by the harshness of the Boiling Plains and against ever more challenging episodes of instanced travel.


    So it was no surprise that they maintained a certain level of discipline, even as the darkness smothered them, the shrieking wails assaulted them, and their powers deserted them. The retreat began in an orderly manner, given the circumstances, though all involved were finding their feet in the absence of Flash, Power and the many abilities and magically enhanced skills they relied on.


    Finding their feet presented a more literal problem too. The sky was free of moon or star. The Orusk and Orsurs were effectively blind, the others nearly so. Despite these handicaps, it was only a matter of seconds before the commands were passed, and the band awkwardly reversed its course, following the wide swathe of their previous passage.


    As they moved, Anda agonized a bit about letting Lilijoy go after the scouts. On further consideration, he decided ¡®letting¡¯ really wasn¡¯t the correct word. He wasn¡¯t particularly worried on her behalf, though some part of him felt that if there was any real danger to be found on the Inside, she would surely be the one to find it. Other than that, it was a relief, for he already felt guilt over abandoning members of the band he was ostensibly leading, even though the orcs had thoroughly rethought such issues in the light of respawning and had developed their own, new, traditions and tactics for battles where death was temporary. Usually.


    The respawning rules were harsher for Insiders, with much longer times. It was not a sure thing that a respawn would happen at all. This put them at a considerable disadvantage in a large, protracted war, and was probably the primary reason the orcs had not made any moves until now. Or so Anda thought; he wasn¡¯t privy to the strategic machinations of the Matrons.


    One thing he was sure of though; the Matrons would never have given their approval for this expedition if they knew just how dangerous the Rotted Land had become. He had spent enough time in Purgatory to know just how thoroughly the rules could change, how consequences for Outsiders and Insiders both could become substantially more severe. He had told Lilijoy that this wasn¡¯t Purgatory, and he believed his assessment correct, but there was nothing to say that this strange infestation within the relatively benign confines of the Garden couldn¡¯t be even worse.


    Onward, or really backward, they trudged, feeling weak and slow, fighting against infernal screeching and fear of the dark. The scouts formed a line, each in visual range of the next, following the dim outline of their predecessor. The Urkaen and Urglah had some degree of natural night vision, and they formed the first line of defense around the band itself, as if a few extra feet of vision would provide sufficient warning against any threats that called this nightmare home.


    Traveling as slowly as they were now, with no way to see any landmarks, it became difficult to judge the passage of time. Even Anda¡¯s internal clock seemed fickle, in the way that changing digits can be when faced with the interminable. The journey inward had been a matter of minutes, the time it took for the sun to fully set, yet the return stretched beyond any reasonable length, even as they continued to retrace their own footsteps through the recrement of earth.


    The orcs began to mutter within their ranks, though he doubted they could actually hear one another, as it became clear that this dark place was reluctant to see them leave. Anda¡¯s messages to Lilijoy went unanswered, and he began to wonder if his best move might not be to withdraw, to log out, and connect with her on the Outside. He hesitated to do this just yet, fearful that he might not be able to return, that somehow his absence would lead to the loss of the Insiders. It felt like a real fear, so he had yet to pull the trigger on the action. Lurking beneath that, less rational but just as present, was the feeling that logging out might not be possible at all. There was no reason to believe that, but the thought nagged at him, even after he pulled up the menus to reassure himself that his system was working well.


    Their ¡®progress¡¯ slowed more and more, and Anda repeatedly adjusted his pace to avoid running into the orcs in front of him. Eventually he lost patience and broke free from the group, moving to see what was forcing the scouts to creep along so cautiously. He worked his way up the line, until he reach the foremost. The Urkulps¡¯ movements were slow, sluggish even, though his eyes were alert as he constantly scanned, straining against the utter dark. Still, it took him a full second to register Anda¡¯s arrival.


    He leaned over and put his mouth by the scout¡¯s high-set triangular ear. ¡°Report!¡± he barked.


    The scout¡¯s reply confirmed his fears, not by content but by delivery. His speech was slow, and while Anda had never talked with him before, he suspected the deep and slightly slurred tone he could pick up, only because his system was filtering most of the wailing din, was not the voice he would be hearing on a normal day.


    Time, it is a-changing, he thought. Bother.


    ***


    The scout¡¯s body shuddered and twitched in the white light cast from Lilijoy¡¯s palm. While many parts of her internet memory were welcome to emerge as needed, there were vast swathes she had sequestered, full of the kind of images absolutely no one should have surfacing unbidden in their imagination. There was no room for squeamishness in her worldview, but there was also no need to have such things play any kind of prominent role in her daily life.


    Despite this, she knew beyond doubt that the unfortunate scout appeared to have been dead for days. She had felt his flesh ooze between her fingers, had smelled the advanced putrefaction, never mind the sagging, discolored skin and sunken features. A thousand zombie movies did not prepare her for the disturbance she felt upon seeing the body move in the white glare, the gaping mouth of long teeth shown by shrunken lips and gums, and the unsettling question: what force was behind this unnatural animation?


    Was it the Maasai revenant pulling the strings, or was some remnant of the poor scout trapped in a dead shell? What, exactly, was she going to do about it? The thought of putting it out of its misery occurred, but even there her options were few. The wicked knife was trapped in her inventory, and her Qi was unavailable. She could hardly pummel the thing to death mercifully, were it even possible. Additionally, it seemed all too likely that the other scouts, six more if she remembered correctly, which, of course she did, were suffering the same circumstance.


    ¡°What do you want!?¡± she yelled into the shrieking cacophony. Her voice was slow and asynchronous to her intent, a ridiculous stretched bass to her ears. The stillness of the air was a strange counterpoint to the tortured noise. It felt somehow like her voice should disappear into a howling wind, but instead it rang out clearly. Like a switch had been thrown the sound stopped and the corpse slumped fully into the undefined ground. Its writhing and twitching movements seemed to flow into the earth all around, merely displaced from flesh to dust, and suddenly the ashy ground boiled and writhed in the white light of her palm. It rippled and swelled, throwing up soft spikes and undefined formations, then retracting them just as quickly. It created the unsettling impression of fingers clawing and thrusting, attempting to penetrate from beneath into the open air.


    Thankfully, the earth was still within a small radius of her feet, a couple meters at most, but outside of that the movements became more rapid, more urgent, as if the earth itself was in tantrum. At times, she thought she saw discernible shapes, rough humanoid figures, animals, and more than once, a rough globe flashed by, its surface pitted and scarred, surging up only to collapse.


    Is that the moon?


    Even with her mind moving at its fastest speed, the transformations and reconfigurations of the ashy ground were almost too fast to follow. If it was an attempt to communicate, it was going very poorly. If it was an attempt to alarm and disorient her, it was going smashingly. She could see no sign anymore of the orc¡¯s body; whether it had been buried by the thrashing ground, or dissolved into ash she couldn¡¯t say.


    ¡°Slow down!¡± she yelled.


    Surprisingly, the land obeyed, juddering and pulsing to a near stop, though only relative to her fastest subjective speed. The soft substance of the earth formed countless stalks, waving in nonexistent breeze for as far as her light stretched. Abruptly pastoral, the atmosphere felt more ominous than before, the ashen tendrils cast threads of shadows under the utter dark, heightening her awareness of all she could not see.


    ¡°Etalaki,¡± a voice whispered from all around. ¡°Etalaki.¡±


    ¡°Is that your name?¡± she asked, almost whispering herself, speaking as quickly as she could, for she feared her voice might be too slow to be understood easily if the environment was already moving as fast as she could think.


    ¡°Etalaki,¡± the whisper insisted, and a moon, Earth¡¯s moon, formed just above the stalks of almost grass, seeming to rest on their fronds with all the mass of a balloon.


    Before this expedition had started, Lilijoy had reviewed, or perhaps renewed, all thing there were Maasai from the internet archive. It was a profoundly small amount of material, compared to subjects far more trivial. Anda had laughed at her when she told him, and laughed even harder at what he found when he looked himself.


    ¡°These stories...¡± he managed after a few seconds. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but they just¡­ well, they¡¯re accurate to an extent. People from a foreign land, trying to cut off a slice of someone else¡¯s oral tradition are bound to get it wrong. They¡¯re missing all the context, as if someone attended Catholic mass and thought they were celebrating cannibalism. As well, who is listening and who is telling the story matters! Never mind that the delivery, the wink, the pause, the hand gestures, are more important than the words themselves. There¡¯s no way here to tell what is a metaphor, or a riddle, or a reference to a story that might have been told the night before.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°I figured as much,¡± she had replied, ¡°but it¡¯s better than nothing? I hope?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Maasai culture, and more significantly, Maasai Clan culture, has changed drastically from anything you might find. I won¡¯t pretend that our folklore doesn¡¯t play a role. It forms a part of our cultural language, a shared set of metaphors, a form of shorthand for who we are as a people. In some ways, we doubled down, pushing away the outsiders, non-Maasai, I mean, and their beliefs. There were several¡­ well, I guess you could call them purges, or purity movements over the past century. That kind of thinking is a big reason I left, or was exiled. It¡¯s still not entirely clear which happened first.¡±


    ¡°It seems that your people were always a bit on the insular side.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a very kind way to put it. As you no doubt noticed, the core of our foundational beliefs is that we are a chosen people. When we reached technological parity with the other clans, that came back with a vengeance, as if a century of repressed inferiority complexes boiled over.¡±


    At that point, Lilijoy had begun to understand just exactly how Anda might have angered his clan to the extent they exiled him on the Outside and torture banned him on the Inside.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± she said. ¡°You said as much back when you were a member.¡±


    ¡°I was young and brash. Then I fell in with a group of free-thinkers, Renaissance of course, who taught me a new way to see the world and my place in it. It wasn¡¯t a great combination. Perhaps this older and possibly wiser version of myself would have done things differently, fought for change from within, but it was a complicated situation.¡±


    She had spent some time further picking his brain about the modern Maasai clan. Anda was always reticent to talk about his former clan, whether from some lingering sense of obligation ingrained over years of loyalty or just an honest wish to avoid the topic she wasn¡¯t sure. Of course, he was much the same with Renaissance. She could image some time in the future he might be just as reluctant to talk about her as he forged new friendships and alliances. It was how he was, who he was, a core of close-guarded privacy under a personable exterior.


    <Anda> she sent. <Help me out. Moon plus the word or name Etalaki. Any ideas?>


    As she sent the message, her method for detecting sensory interference with her system alerted her to an attempt to circumvent her action, something quite similar to what most Outsiders experienced when attempting to connect to the Outside when they were Inside. Stage Two made all her sensory processes multiply redundant, so resisting such methods was trivial, but she worried that Anda¡¯s system might not be sufficiently developed to thwart the attack. If that was the case, there was nothing she could do about it on her end. She could only hope that Anda had escaped with the others and would be replying soon.


    ***


    This is a nightmare, Anda thought.


    He wasn¡¯t prone to panic. Quite the opposite really. While he had never had the fiery passion for combat and struggle of the others in his age cohort, from a young age he was known for his level head, for his ability to think and then act in the most harrowing circumstances. The Maasai had spared no expense in simulating the traditional training of their young warriors; they earned their systems through harrowing adventures on the ruined plains of Africa, fighting off augmented animals and mechanized opponents. They learned to fight as brothers, and to sleep beneath the occluded sky with nothing more than their wits and the weapons they could make themselves.


    After that, the Trial for the Inside had been a cakewalk. Aside from the geyser squid anyway. Then they were tempered further in the Great Grass Sea, followed by the ultimate, the journey that culminated in arrival at the clan¡¯s tenuous holding in the outermost circle of Purgatory. That was only reserved for the elite, those destined for leadership and the high levels of personal augmentation that went with it. Anda Kukata had had it all, and then thrown it away.


    Now he was having flashbacks to his earliest days in the worst possible way, the power, composure and even confidence he had earned before he was even a man rotted away like the Land surrounding him.


    Shortly after he had realized that everyone, except him at least, was being slowed somehow, that the frame rate of time¡¯s passage was being applied with an uneven hand, the nightmare had begun. The land itself rose up, swirling and climbing the legs of the scout next to him in streams of uneven gray. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, strained against the darkness as they were, but mere feet from his face he saw the dark streams entering the nose and mouth of the slowed orc, saw the widening eyes and hands moving to face as the scout reacted.


    Anda spent no time trying to help him. The split second he realized what was going on, he sprinted back to the main group of orcs, and Lilijoy¡¯s friends, shouting his warnings into the shrieking dark as he went. He made it back just in time to see, as best he could, chaos gripping the band, bodies rolling on the ground, warriors tearing at their faces. All in slow motion.


    He nearly smacked the form that flew out of the darkness toward his face. It was only the ample time he had between awareness and response that allowed him to pull his blow, to recognize it as a slow-gliding Skria. He didn¡¯t even have a moment to analyze the oddness of having his own personal time stream, for almost immediately twenty-odd pounds of panicked petauran were grappling with his face, sharp claws scrabbling for purchase on his lightly-furred dome.


    In another time it might have been comic, but it was horrible and pathetic instead. The girl was sobbing and babbling in a deep bass, and Anda didn¡¯t have time to try and understand her. He reached up and moved her to his shoulder, barely breaking stride as he went. He feared the worst for Lilijoy¡¯s other friend, but as yet there was no sign of her, nor the bulk of the Orsurs who attended her. He hoped they had fled, somehow escaped this madness.


    For whatever reason, his system and Outsider qualities most likely, the ashy earth wasn¡¯t attacking him, so now his body was the only thing between Skria and whatever was happening to those who were¡­ what? Infected? Certainly incapacitated. That meant logging out was no longer an option.


    For about the millionth time he cursed the fact that no one had brought anything as simple as a torch, or a vial of glow-moss. If anyone did, it was probably trapped in their inventories, along with anything else that might be useful. He hesitated, unsure of the best course of action and felt a sharp rap on the side of his head.


    ¡°Find Jess,¡± Skria commanded, though it took her almost four seconds to do so. While she was speaking he ran in a broad circle, the only way he could get a grasp of the situation with virtually no visibility. Multiple trails led off from the main trunk of disturbed ground that represented their journey into, and hopefully, eventually, out of, the Rotted Land, no doubt from orcs fleeing. He could only imagine what it was like for them; to him the ashy substance crawled, but for them it must seem to sweep up the bodies of their comrades in a single strike. There could be no defense, no way to help, and he didn¡¯t blame some for running, for all the good it was likely to do them.


    Still, it hadn¡¯t swept over all the orcs at once, and he could still see some attending to fallen comrades, just beginning to crouch down to assess their twisting brethren. That meant there were limits to the power of whatever this was. That or they were being played with.


    There was no sign a large group had left the trail, so he picked up speed and began his reply, speaking as slowly as he could. ¡°They went back this way. What happened?¡±


    He set his system to gathering Skria¡¯s slowed speech so he could focus on running in the pitch dark. He didn¡¯t want to trip and send her flying into the ash. I suppose she might hover in slow motion long enough for me to get back up, he pondered. Better not to test it though.


    He settled into a comfortable lope, trying to balance Skria¡¯s weight while ignoring her claws and the bushy tail that kept wandering into his face, and began to process the past minute. He had held his emotions at bay, but now guilt, regret and self-recrimination were howling in the dark, a choir with the sounds in his ears that had never stopped. He also felt a simmering anger toward Nandi and the Archon, though he recognized it was partly from his desire to reject his own responsibility for this debacle. Still, he had been sent here, told to involve the orcs, all without any useful information or warning, and for what? So they could die uselessly?


    This place really needs new management, he thought.


    After some time, Skria finished her story. There wasn¡¯t much to tell, not really. Chaos and yelling, then being launched into the air for reasons she didn¡¯t entirely understand at the time. Without her magic, she was at the mercy of gravity, only able to glide. Fortunately, out of everyone, Skria had the best ability to see in the dark, to the extent that she had an ability called Day Vision, that allowed her to see normally when the sun was shining. She had seen Anda¡¯s return to the group and decided he was the safest landing spot.


    He was just thankful she normally talked so fast.


    ***


    Well, that was nice while it lasted, Lilijoy thought.


    ¡°Can we go back to the moons and stuff?¡± she called out doing her best to dodge a four pronged wave of loose, ashy earth rolling toward her, looking as if some giant was stretching through the earth from below, running fat fingers along its ceiling. Whatever, whoever, the animating presence was in this place, they had lost patience with her, or changed their mind about trying to communicate. So far it had been a battle of mutual impotence. Beasts and warriors formed out of the loose material attacked and she obliterated them with feeble kicks and punches as they came. But now, it seemed, her opponent was getting more serious, seeking to overwhelm her with sheer volume. She wasn¡¯t sure what would happen if she was completely buried in the substance, and she wasn¡¯t in a particular hurry to find out. Thankfully, she seemed to have some kind of aura around her that interfered with or suppressed the cohesiveness of the constructs and kept them from forming at her feet. That had kept her from being overwhelmed so far.


    She had a theory about that, but not much time to do anything about it, busy as she was dodging and weaving. There were rules to this place, loose and chaotic to be sure, but rules nonetheless. The constructs always maintained contact with the ground, their movement more of an animated sliding than true walking or running. Time was fickle, but there seemed to be an ongoing negotiation between her perception of time and the external forces assailing her.


    The hand-wave subsided and now an elephant formed, towering above her as it charged, its legs stretching rather than lifting off the surface. It would have looked as if it was stuck in gray taffy, it it weren¡¯t relentlessly approaching. All of the beasts attacking her so far had been those of the African Savannah, though many were warped and twisted. The elephant had a box-like body, as if a distant ancestor had been an armored personnel carrier, and tusks with broad axe heads on the ends.


    There was going to be no dodging this threat. Instead, she leapt into it with her fist extended, a move that would have been foolish in any other circumstance. Her body was more solid than the elephant¡¯s though, and she moved through the dark mass even as it bore her back. She could feel the material all around her, grasping and sliding on her skin, moving into her nose and ears.


    There will be none of that! she thought, and pushed with her diamond energy against the intrusion. It was an instinctive reaction, but one born from the feeling she had had since the conflict began, or perhaps earlier, the sense that within the boundary of her physical presence and identity was her domain. The rules here were flexible, unformed compared to the Garden and her physical presence was a kind of metaphor for what she could control. It was the same concept that had led her to develop the Body Warp ability.


    That¡¯s what the aura protecting me is, she thought. It¡¯s my reach. I could be there, and so in some sense I am. That means¡­


    With a cry, she pushed the invasive ash off her skin entirely and then farther, in an explosive flare of power that left her temporarily suspended in mid-air within what was left of the elephant construct. It slumped into a pile as she descended to her feet.


    ¡°There!¡± she cried. ¡°What else have you got!¡±


    She regretted the outburst within a couple of seconds, as five forms lumbered into the very edge of her light, the bodies of the orc scouts.


    ¡°Oh. Okay, fair enough,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°Guess it¡¯s time for round two.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 49: Incoherent

    The five corpses stumbled into her light and Lilijoy knew just what to do.


    She ran.


    There was simply no reason to stay and fight, and she didn¡¯t think she could learn any more about the spirits manipulating the Rotted Land, not until they calmed down again anyway. She had theories, too many theories really, about what was going on, and she needed a chance to think, perhaps talk things over with Anda. Her current environment was not conducive to either of those things.


    Fortunately, the decaying bodies had all appeared from roughly the same direction, so it wasn¡¯t hard for her to know where to go. She knew there were probably two more lurking in the dark, but she trusted her echolocation to give her warning if they had gotten around her. She turned and began to run, the light from her palm dancing wildly on the jagged looking rocks that would soon crumble beneath her feet.


    At first, she left them behind, and she began to curve her path around in the hope she would eventually connect to the large swath of trampled landscape left by the band of orcs. Then, without warning, they were right behind her again, their presence announced by a tortured squeal. This startled her so much she squeaked and nearly stumbled, and she could only give thanks that her system prevented any accidents of biology in her Outside body.


    Holy crap. Teleporting zombies? Just what I need, was her first thought. Now zombies come in three speeds, slow, fast and instant.


    After another moment, when her pumping legs managed to put a few more feet between her and the sound of their shambling feet dragging through the ground, the smell wafting from behind, she reconsidered.


    No. Not teleporting. They sped up. A lot. That squeal was the sound of their movement right before they slowed down.


    She dared a quick glance over her shoulder. Now there were only four. Relief only had a millisecond to settle before it was rudely booted by alarm.


    If they can move that fast, then it could be anywhere. It could be¡­


    She dove to the side and rolled under the grasping arms, felt dangling ribbons of skin caress the back of her neck, the screeching sound of its arrival warning her just in time to keep her own momentum from bringing her into a rotting embrace. She stumbled to her feet on a new course, missing her Flash about as badly as she had ever missed anything. Her fast thoughts gave her time to perceive the threat, and even more time to watch herself barely avoid it.


    She jogged ahead on her new course, careful not to go too fast in case another zombie appeared in front of her. She was in no hurry to find out what would happen if they caught hold of her.


    I need to understand the rules for this place. Or the rules for the rules anyway. Time seems fickle, but otherwise things work close to the way they do on the Outside, which I¡¯m sure the zombies would be happy to prove to me. I think I¡¯m protected by my¡­ reach bubble. Domain, maybe? Which is why the zombies can¡¯t just grab me; they hit the boundary and slow down to my time. That still doesn¡¯t explain why they don¡¯t just come in from all sides.


    There was a haphazard quality to everything that had occurred in the Rotted Land, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t tell if she was missing underlying principles, or if it really was just that chaotic. It was probably some of both, she figured.


    She could hear the zombies behind her, slowly falling behind. There seemed to be five again, though her echolocation was working horribly and she couldn¡¯t say for sure. Their shuffling footsteps shushed in a constant background of pursuit. She slowed a bit more, happy to keep them where they couldn¡¯t hurt her, but not so far away she might miss if they zoomed off into some other time stream that could deliver them¡­ anywhere. That there were still two missing bothered her a lot.


    It occurred to her then, and why only then she couldn¡¯t say, that perhaps the reason Anda hadn¡¯t replied was because he, and all the others, had already fallen victim to whatever was going on here, that the Maasai revenants had some way of attacking across the worlds, that the zombies, that everything she was experiencing was merely symbolic of the true danger.


    That¡¯s just paranoia, she decided.


    Still, she stirred her Outside body and went to look in on Anda, just in case.


    ***


    It had been a long time since Anda felt something resembling genuine fear on the Inside. At some point in his early twenties he became inured to the sense of bodily peril presented in combat there. Even when the stakes were raised significantly during his brief stint in Purgatory, he was never afraid. There was surprise, shock even, along with healthy amounts of suspense and occasional regret, but the visceral, instinctive fear was gone, worn away a little more every time he logged out and went about his day with no real consequences, no matter what the Inside would have him believe. It was never that strong to begin with after all. He had faced true mortal peril dozens of times, had endured the painful adulthood rites of his people. After that, nothing much could phase him.


    Or so he had thought. The addition of the Insiders into the equation, his inability to help them and his desire to protect Lilijoy¡¯s friend had disturbed his equilibrium and opened the door to the irrational. He didn¡¯t understand the stakes and consequences, and the possibility that the situation had already passed into irredeemable loss, that there was literally nothing he could do, whispered words of defeat into his mind. If there was one thing Anda feared, it was ignorance, a lack of information with which he could make rational decisions.


    The shrieking sounds abated as he moved away from the orcs, Skria still clinging to his shoulders. He jumped a bit when she spoke in his ear and her voice was almost normal.


    ¡°We have to go back,¡± she said. ¡°We have to find Jess.¡±


    Her tone was calm and resolute, and he was relieved to find that she had a core of toughness underneath her volatile exterior.


    ¡°I would do that,¡± he replied, ¡°if I had any idea where to look. I¡¯m sure you saw the tracks went off in all directions. I think our best course is to find Lilijoy.¡±


    There was a brief silence, and it was almost a silence in truth, as the wailing was now little more than a persistent ringing in his ears. He could hear his steps once more, a gentle shushing in the pitch dark.


    ¡°Why did it stop?¡± Skria said at last.


    He had been wondering that as well. ¡°Perhaps because we¡¯re not trying to leave,¡± he offered.


    ¡°Then why...¡± Skria¡¯s voice contained more than a hint of exasperation. ¡°Why scare us in the first place and then punish us for running?¡±


    Anda didn¡¯t shrug. His shoulders were narrow despite his height, and Skria barely fit as it was. ¡°I think this is a place of madness,¡± he said. ¡°Looking for reason will only drive us mad too. How far can you see?¡± he added, changing the subject.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe ten, fifteen feet? There must be some kind of light here, weak as it is, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s consistent. Sometimes I can see a bit farther, but it¡¯s just shapes at best.¡±


    He filed that away and checked his system clock. He had jogged for a couple minutes, before he decided that the potential dangers from behind were outweighed by the uncertainty ahead. Since then, he had walked at an easy pace. Overall it hadn¡¯t even been five minutes. Time and distance didn¡¯t seem to correlate terribly well in the Rotted Land, but he hoped they weren¡¯t entirely broken, that if he kept walking, eventually he would get somewhere. Hopefully back to Lilijoy.


    They walked in dark and silence for another minute before Skria spoke again.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Anda, tell me something about where you come from. Lilijoy said you used to be a ¡®Maasai¡¯, whatever that is.¡±


    He felt a twinge of annoyance that she would be so careless as to speak into the silence. Then he felt her trembling, and remembered she was a child, really. Insiders, the tempered ones anyway, grew up fast. They suffered and died and returned, and it was easy to take the young ones for full blooded warriors, for they had often experienced more than most Outsiders their age.


    ¡°My people, and they are still my people, no matter what the clan may say, no matter what skin I wear, are not like most of the other Outsiders you might meet,¡± he started. ¡°We never lost our connection to the earth, and this sets us apart. We kept our traditions when the cultures around us were swept away, and in the end our traditions saved us during the hardest times in our world.¡±


    The words were almost a recitation from his childhood, but he still believed them in his heart. They had stood the test of time against his scrutiny of his own biases, as much survivors as those they described. As he spoke them, he felt that tiny swell of pride that had never completely left and with that feeling came an idea, or perhaps he realized something he had already known.


    ¡°Let me tell you some of our stories,¡± he said, speaking his mother tongue.


    ***


    Looking at Anda¡¯s still form on the Outside, Lilijoy was tempted to try and communicate with him directly, perhaps by using her own flowers to create a direct channel to his brain. In the end though, she decided such an intervention should only be used in a dire emergency, and she didn¡¯t think that was the case now.


    She sat down with a sigh, and turned her attention fully to the strange race she in which she was an unwilling participant. The zombies chased her silently and she could neither go too fast nor too slow. That left the other problem, which was determining exactly where this unfortunate processional was going. She had given up on finding the tracks of the band, at least on purpose, after the third time her internal map led her astray, and the light from her palm revealed only more corroded and gray landscape ahead, full of rocks just waiting to give up their form beneath her feet.


    It was enough to make her wonder if this just might go on forever, at least until she finally grew so tired of the endless chase that she allowed the dead orcs to catch her. To entertain herself, she led them in ever smaller circles for a while, just to see if they would display any sign of planning or coordination. They did not, which led her to wonder if anyone was actually minding the store, so to speak. She still felt it most likely that they were closer to puppets than anything autonomous. The whole environment spoke to an inability to create, that the minds here were only able to manipulate existing materials. It reminded her a bit of her earth magic, which could only draw on what materials were on hand to build its walls.


    She suspected that went for the higher levels of function as well, that there was nothing going on here that wasn¡¯t derived from the rules in the Garden. She could almost imagine a Maasai revenant as a child pulling switches and knobs at random on some cosmic control panel, sometimes getting the desired result and other times being just as surprised as any unfortunate witness trapped in their domain. It was pure speculation, of course, but as a theory, it went some of the way toward explaining why her experiences to this point had been so incoherent.


    That¡¯s just it, she realized. This whole place is incoherent. Nothing sticks together. Even the zombies are falling apart quickly.


    Every time she looked there were more bits and pieces hanging from her pursuers. Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold, she thought. This isn¡¯t malignance, it¡¯s desperation. This is the widening gyre for the revenants¡¯ cycles of consciousness. They are clinging to existence, grasping at anything solid, while the cycles that perpetuate their selfhood fly apart.


    This wasn¡¯t a battle, she realized. It was a rescue mission.


    ***


    Anda spoke the stories of his people, while Skria listened from his shoulder, his audience, but perhaps not his only audience. He spoke of devils with lion¡¯s heads and stone bodies, of the black god who brought the rains and the red god who wished to stop him. He told the stories of the hare and the elephant, of warriors cowardly and brave, and the woman who gained the children she had always wanted by harvesting the fruit from the sycamore tree. Skria gasped at the tale¡¯s conclusion, where the woman, who had lost the children when she chastised them, climbed into the tree and all the fruit turned to look at her with accusatory eyes.


    While he spoke, he could feel it, the attention of the land, or those that dwelled within it, if there was any distinction, and he raised his voice to project into the darkness. He sang the songs of the warriors before battle, and told the tales of the last great herd, the salvation of the Maasai when the world fell into darkness.


    At one point Skria gasped again, not because of the words he brought forth, but on account of the figure of gray ash that walked beside them in the night. Anda did his best to ignore it, a difficult prospect, for it held itself just in the corner of what little vision he had, its indistinct form almost perfectly blended to the darkness. If not for Skria¡¯s none-too-subtle gesturing and pointing, he might have mistaken it for a trick of his eyes, a half-glimpsed ghostly figment of the type familiar to any who spent time in the true dark of night.


    Instead he told the story of the first man, of Le-eyo, who cursed mankind to die and never return. The Beginner of the Earth had given him a simple chant to say over the body of the dead.


    Man, die and come back again. Moon, die and remain away.


    And yet Le-eyo was selfish, for when the first child of another died, he said Man, die and remain away. Moon, die and come back again. It was only when his own child died that he said the chant correctly, but then discovered that it was too late to reverse.


    ¡°Why would he do that?¡± Skria asked. ¡°What an idiot!¡±


    Anda kept his peripheral vision on the barely discernible human shape, afraid it would take offense, but instead it almost seemed to lean in, as if waiting for his reply.


    ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful truth though,¡± he replied, ¡°We only have one moon on the Outside, and when it vanished the night was at its darkest and most dangerous. I always wondered if Le-eyo had a deeper understanding, that the moon¡¯s eternal cycle was more important for mankind, or that if everyone who died returned, people would become locusts upon the world. Or perhaps it serves as a warning about man¡¯s essential nature, that we like to put our own interests first by focusing on the short term. Then, when we finally have a motive to do the right thing, it is too late. Perhaps if the world had learned that lesson, the moon would still be visible in our sky at night.¡±


    The ghostly figure seemed almost to nod.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand your world,¡± said Skria.


    ¡°Neither do we,¡± Anda replied.


    ***


    Lilijoy¡¯s insight, assuming it was even correct, did little to help her with the immediate problem. It brought to mind the contagious peril of rescuing someone who was drowning. Unfortunately, she was already in over her head.


    Still it gave her a different angle to consider, that the revenants were thrashing wildly, looking for something to give them stability, some kind of anchor to slow their dissolution. Or perhaps a lifeline would be a better analogy than metaphorically giving an anchor to a drowning victim? However she looked at it, she wasn¡¯t sure how she could help. There was a real sense of tragedy here, that whatever the revenants touched rotted, that everything they owned became corrupted. They had possessed the orc scouts and gained so little, other than a chance to chase after her.


    She imagined that her presence must be a temptation they couldn¡¯t resist, that if the orc zombies ever caught her they would attempt to own her, to incorporate her and in so doing gain just a little bit of-- what?-- solidity? It seemed that very bad things happened when the process of conscious identity was removed from a familiar context. The Maasai children had been given their systems very young, raised on the Inside as much as possible. Somehow that had enabled them to persist when their Outside bodies died, leaving them neither Insider nor Outsider. They must have been terrified, she thought, and had struggled to follow the most basic program of life, to survive, to continue being.


    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder if that was her ultimate fate. Perhaps her system and the knowledge and experience she was gaining would allow her to escape their sad condition. Perhaps. Maybe that was what a Child of the Great Mind was, or was supposed to be, and that was why Echelon was still out there, somewhere, the only Child to survive the process? But then, what did she have to offer to the Maasai revenants?


    Wait a second. This was never about me. This is Anda¡¯s deal, the whole reason he was allowed to rejoin the Inside as a half-orc. Whatever they need, it¡¯s something only he can give. He carries their culture. Is that it, or is there something deeper?


    She recalled Sarah¡¯s letter, of her visions of conversations where the words were the gods themselves. We are just too small to see the second-order emergence of our collected thoughts, too small and too ephemeral. Yet we interact with it every day and call it culture, or religion, or mythology.


    The thought seemed, as such thoughts do, to be both true and false. When pinned down it made as much sense as implying a grand design to the growth patterns of slime molds and cities. Human culture sprawled, writhed and metastasized. And yet. There were forms, attractors and patterns within the chaos. Archetypes, commonalities of experience, and always that hint of something just beyond the mundane, the ineffable that responded to the grasping mind by rotting away just as quickly as the lands all around her.


    Well, she thought, whatever it is, I hope Anda¡¯s got it. I¡¯m getting really tired of jogging.


    ***


    Anda slowed his stride and turned to the figure at his side. It had grown more solid throughout their aimless journey, and if he strained, he could just make out the features of a young man, a boy really, his head not even shorn.


    ¡°Endasopai,¡± Anda proclaimed reaching out his hand, ¡°Greetings.¡±


    The boy moved his mouth, and Anda read the traditional response there. ¡°Hepa.¡±


    The boy took his hand.


    Anda reached deep within to the buried capabilities of his system and activated Two Minds One Self.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 50: Over

    The running part of the chase ended quite suddenly, and left Lilijoy wondering if she had discovered a completely novel type of awkwardness. The orc zombies simply stopped in their tracks, halting their shamble-run mid stride. One of them fell over.


    ¡°So¡­¡± she said.


    She had come to a belated halt as well, not sure if this was her chance to make a clean break, or their chance to leave her sight and potentially become far more dangerous. It was a standoff, in that everyone was standing. Well, almost everyone.


    ¡°So,¡± she began again. ¡°Are we¡­ done?¡±


    She didn¡¯t really expect a reply, but the scene called for someone to say something. That pretty much fell to her, since she was quite sure the zombies no longer had any functional speech-producing parts.


    The zombies stared blankly, and not even at her. She shuffled her feet, ready for something new to happen, another ash-puppet show or the like.


    This scene could really use a tumbleweed rolling by, she thought.


    The change, when it happened, was abrupt. The stars came out. The bodies of the orc scouts collapsed. Her senses returned in all their glory. Epic explosions filled the nearby sky.


    For the tiniest, irrational moment she thought it might be some type of celebration, the universe acknowledging whatever it was that had come to pass to free her from the Rotted Land. Then a portion of the landscape at the horizon reared up, and seconds later she felt the sub-sonic roar. She saw the ashy earth ripple past her feet, and understood that the battle between the Hongse clan and the Regional Lord was in full swing, and far closer than she would have expected.


    She wondered if the Maasai clan was involved yet.


    That had been Anda¡¯s contribution to the grand scheme that had emerged from her discovery of the Regional Lord. Not to simply auction the location, but to invite those clans that had the worst relations with the Maasai, and then allow just a few hints of the event to come to reach his former clan. It created the possibility she might lose the credits held in escrow for her by the auction house, but she wasn¡¯t terribly worried. Even if Hongse did somehow come up with proof that such a thing had occurred, money just didn¡¯t have much of a hold on her. She couldn¡¯t help but see it as the convenient fiction it was, a willfully adopted, quasi-fictional, social proxy for resources and power. It probably helped that she didn¡¯t have such a concept while growing up.


    Of course, she didn¡¯t have much in the way of concepts in general as a child.


    She put aside the distractions of memory and distant battle to focus on a more important question. Just where in the heck was everybody?


    Her question was answered a bit at a time, as she made her way through the clouds of ash picked up by a newly liberated wind. The peaks and tips of rocks and formations all around sent off lines of dust as the wind caught on them, forming swirling streams and rivers around her knees and waist. She could only imagine what the Rotted Land might be like when it finally rained, and hoped fervently to be far away for the event. But even with the newly airborne ash stinging her eyes, she saw little blobs of heat in the distance, which she could only hope were orcs making their way out.


    Jess and her greatly diminished honor guard were the first she could identify, and she began running toward them, exalting in her ridiculous Flash. Her legs were too short, and the surface below her too soft to get as fast as her multiple of over four hundred percent might allow in theory, but it was an amazing feeling nonetheless, once the grit abrading her face at nearly fifty miles per hour was subtracted.


    From Jess, Lilijoy heard of the attacks that had beset the band, and the panic that followed. She had thrown Skria into the air, once the ash started wending its way up her body, then she in turn had been lifted from the ground by one of her honor guard, who immediately ran, or more likely staggered away from the group, with Jessila in his arms, on the theory that anywhere was probably better than the area where the bad things were happening.


    This turned out to be almost correct, once they realized that staying in motion seemed to prevent the ash from climbing, and that severing its connection to the ground would cause it to fall away harmlessly. This realization, however, followed more than a few minutes of running through the darkness, with Jess being handed back and forth among the even larger males. The image made Lilijoy repress a smile, even in light of their mutual concern about Skria¡¯s absence, especially when she thought of all the times she or Skria had been so handled.


    ¡°¡­ and then we couldn¡¯t find our way back,¡± Jess finished, the Orsurs on either side of her nodding in support. It was at that point that Anda finally replied to her.


    <That was¡­ really something. Skria is fine. She¡¯s up in the sky somewhere looking for you and Jessila.>


    The process of being speechless took a vanishingly small amount of time by normal human processing standards, so her reply was sent back within a second. <That¡¯s it? Really something? Glad you¡¯re okay.>


    <I wouldn¡¯t go that far. I¡¯m¡­ disoriented. Significantly.>


    <What happened?!>


    <It¡¯s still happening. We¡¯re negotiating, you could say.>


    <what can I do to help?>


    <Not completely sure yet. I may not be in a position to log out for some time. I¡¯m feeding them somatic sensory data from my Outside body. It¡¯s calming to them. And I have to keep telling them stories. I¡¯m afraid that if I leave, they¡¯ll feel abandoned, and things will get ugly. Uglier. With that in mind, I¡¯d better go. They¡¯re getting restless.>


    Everything seemed fine when she checked on his Outside body. He was half reclined, propped up on some broken crates. This could be a problem, she thought. I wonder how hard it would be to get a pod here?


    There was another potential problem associated with Anda being stuck Inside for the time being as well. He was the contact with Kurtz, who was supposed to be getting them an airship. If Anda was out of commission, that left her with one other person who Kurtz might be willing to deal with. Mo. She didn¡¯t feel great about that.


    The timing wasn¡¯t ideal. She had completed her part of the deal over the past couple days, a feat that had left her with little ability to pay attention to the others on the Outside. She imagined that they were very bored, or very stiff from spending so much time Inside. Building the disassemblers was painstaking work, or rather the preparation was. It wasn¡¯t until she figured out that the evil little things could be suspended and handled in shaped magnetic fields that she was finally able to build them. The only breaks she had taken were for her regular sessions with Maria.


    There, Lilijoy was still doing most of the heavy lifting, as Maria didn¡¯t have any Stage Two elements for her own cultivation. Every day, they would meet and she would add another batch of vines and flowers, then guide them to the areas they were working on, mostly still the visual and auditory cortex, though they had begun to lay down basic connections in the motor areas as well. Thanks to the upgrades, Maria was now able to perceive the work going on in her brain, and guide it to some extent, though she lacked confidence. Lilijoy gave her little assignments, all the while marveling that Maria had not already taken command of her own growth. It was foreign to her how the young woman seemed to need permission and reassurance at every turn.


    Currently, everyone was sleeping, with the exception of Attaboy, who was Inside. He had only emerged for food and other necessities over the past days, and Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but wonder what he was getting up to in there. It was just after one in the morning, and only a few beams of faint light from the distant arcology illuminated the ground floor room, filtering between the broken boards of a high-set window.


    She took a deep breath and turned to head up to the roof, when her spider sense tingled. In this case, quite literally. She had organized her remaining spiders, along with a few new ones she had found, to string strands of web across every road heading into the area she controlled, and one of them had just broken. It wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened. There were still people in the area, and dogs too. Sometimes the wind would knock something off a roof, or a mostly dead tree would drop its last branch.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The webs represented the farthest perimeter, too large an area for her flies to effectively cover, so she reached out through her network and sent out a patrol to investigate. At night, her flies¡¯ vision was quite poor, but their chemo-sensory abilities worked just fine. They hadn¡¯t even reached the area when the web across a street on the opposite side of her domain broke. As she was moving to investigate that, another broke, and then another.


    She fired off a message to Attaboy and ran to wake Nykka. She had just put her hand on the pale girl¡¯s shoulder when she saw the plumes of carbon dioxide and other chemicals of human breath marking a group of people walking down the middle of the street where the first web had broken.


    ¡°Nykka, wake up,¡± she hissed. A moan of protest and a flopping hand were ignored as she went to silent communications. <Multiple groups coming from multiple directions. Only being a little sneaky. Anda may be unavailable.>


    Nykka rolled off the crude cot she had fashioned, retrieving her sword in the process. <Others?> she sent.


    <Still asleep. Attaboy is logging out, hopefully.>


    <How long? Who?>


    <Working on it¡­> She cast about in all four directions. <Four groups of five or six. Walking fast. They¡¯ll be here in six to seven minutes if they maintain pace. They¡¯re running dark, but coming down the middle of the streets.>


    <I¡¯ll wake Mo and Maria.> Nykka sent <Can you take them out?>


    Nykka made a noncommittal sound, and half ran out of the room, on her way to wake up Mo and Maria, Lilijoy assumed. She sent off a quick message to Anda to inform him of the crisis and then gave herself a few seconds of real time to think, or really to process.


    Had she screwed up? This was clearly an attack, and one planned to have a decisive outcome. The enemy was bringing what they no doubt considered to be overwhelming force. Somehow, they knew where to attack, and had acquired that intelligence without being discovered in turn. Was it a betrayal?


    Mo came to mind, for obvious reasons, but she couldn¡¯t imagine how, and more importantly why, given that he was asleep with Maria in the next room. Nykka was a possibility too, but Lilijoy would be able to largely rule that out in a few seconds, when her first flies landed on the attackers and determined what kinds of systems were involved. Attaboy could have done something boneheaded, but she really wanted to believe he wasn¡¯t that dumb.


    Of course, if it wasn¡¯t betrayal, then everyone in the group who should know better had missed something. They had relied on obscurity as their first line of defense, but perhaps they hadn¡¯t factored in the opponent¡¯s motivation. They had been very careful when they returned from the arcology, stopping more than once for Lilijoy to scour the area for anyone who might be following. They had taken a circuitous route. Their various hovercars were stashed out of sight, and only the assault vehicle was close at hand.


    Somehow, they had underestimated the capabilities of their opponents. Now they could only hope their opponents had underestimated them just as much. The fact that they were walking down the middle of the street gave her the notion that they had, but she couldn¡¯t rule out the possibility that this was simply a maneuver to flush them out. If she used her flies to attack and subvert or destroy their systems, it would almost certainly lead to even bigger problems down the road. On the other hand, if they fled, assuming Mo could haul Anda to the assault vehicle, they might be doing exactly what the enemy wanted.


    She was still wracking her brain for further options when one of her flies landed on the back of one of men. It scurried up the thick fabric, seeking skin. Now other flies were landing, only a few because she feared that their presence would be noticed. Her midges were mostly closer in, aside from those that were relaying her signal, though she had begun to switch to roaches for that task. They were happy to hunker down on the sides of buildings, and their larger bodies made them much better antennas.


    She divided her attention, moving each fly personally. The men, and it was entirely men as far as she could tell from their chemical presence, were wearing dark clothing and masks, which was complicating the flies¡¯ mission, since any exposed skin was in places where the small intruders would surely be noticed.


    Why dress like ninjas and then come down the middle of the street?? she wondered. Perhaps anonymity is more important than stealth?


    It seemed relevant as well, that they hadn¡¯t simply driven in, though she couldn¡¯t figure out what it meant. Her first suspicion had been that the men were from the Walden clan, who possessed both resources and motivation, but she couldn¡¯t make the behaviors add up. That left Kurtz as the next most likely suspect. If it was Kurtz, she felt a bit better about simply making a break for it.


    Finally, a fly found a thin strip of exposed neck and began to deliver its payload. Going through skin wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was far less likely to be discovered than targeting the nose, mouth, or eyes. The first step was the slowest, wending vines through the layers of oil and dead cells, seeking the tiny blood vessels that would lead to the brain, though the lack of Rank Five skin augmentation boded well for any potential violence to come. Already, she was picking up signals passing between the men, and as soon as she got into the bloodstream she began to bump into blood bugs.


    At that point, she detected Rank Five from a man in another of the groups, a fine mesh of subcutaneous threads covered his neck. Fortunately, it presented no problem for her vines to penetrate.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she heard Maria ask sleepily from the other room. Nykka shushed her, and Lilijoy had a moment of regret that she hadn¡¯t pushed harder to get Maria¡¯s communication network established. Mo¡¯s lack of a system was going to present a problem too. She highly doubted that the attackers were close enough to hear anything, no matter how well augmented their auditory processors were, but they were closing in on the point where it would be a real possibility. Still, Mo had been around the block a few times. She heard nothing more than a brief, inarticulate grumble from him.


    <Get them to the AV> she sent to Nykka.


    Attaboy still hadn¡¯t stirred, but it hadn¡¯t been that long since she sent the message. She sent another, even more urgent, and threatened him with having Nykka carry his body.


    Out in the streets, the attackers paused their approach, and she could detect encrypted signals being exchanged. She would a little more time to get more of her flowers into place before she had a chance to intercept them in the appropriate part of the men¡¯s brains, which would still be faster than doing the hard work of breaking the encryption herself, particularly if the keys were rotating.


    What are they doing now? she wondered, a question that was soon answered when the groups split, fanning out into side streets and generally moving with more caution as they tightened the net around their target. Several began to scale the sides of buildings, obviously intending to establish a rooftop presence. Once again, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder how they knew where to attack. Their movements were confident and coordinated, almost as if¡­


    They¡¯ve been watching us. How?


    She had been overconfident in her command over the area, that much seemed clear. Their attackers had something that let them see from a distance, probably the same thing that let them find her little group in the first place. She scanned the attackers again, wishing her insect senses were just a bit better suited for the task at night. There were twenty two individuals, and she had already started to infiltrate four of them, one from each of the initial groups. She had enough horseflies in the area to inject all of them, unless they were actively protecting themselves. Her midges were closer in, but they would provide another layer of defense, flying in noses and mouths to deliver their payload. Even ears would do, in a pinch.


    I¡¯ve got this, she reassured herself. I just have to figure out how to expose as few of my abilities as possible and conserve resources if there¡¯s another wave. Then we relocate, maybe to the storm drains. I bet they have plans if we leave by hovercar. Though they might not know we have a Sinaloa assault vehicle.


    Like most cities where it had once rained in abundance, Guayaquil had a network of drains to carry away the water. They were now partly collapsed and clogged, but still navigable in places. They were where Lilijoy had found some of her roaches and beetles. It would be a very tight squeeze for the full sized members of the group, never mind the problem of moving Anda if he couldn¡¯t disengage from the Inside. Of course, if it came down to his life or a setback, even a huge calamity, on the Inside, it wouldn¡¯t be a hard choice. She just hoped she could solve this situation well enough so he wouldn''t have to make it.


    The men, who were closing in on all sides, aside from a few who had found higher ground that she took to be snipers, all paused again, and her flies picked up a short burst of radio activity.


    Come on! she urged her flowers, who were still finding their way through the men¡¯s brains. Go faster!


    She didn¡¯t have to wait for that in order to figure out what the command had been though. Through a hundred faceted eyes she saw the men move their hands to their heads, and saw the output from their breath change.


    Oh no, she realized. They¡¯ve put on gas masks. This is bad.


    Only a few seconds later the first of her flowers began to intercept signals from the auditory cortex of one of the men. It was scattered at first, and then grew in clarity as more and more of her tiny infiltrators made their connections.


    <...drop...impact...three, two, one.>


    ¡°They¡¯re dropping gas on us!¡± she yelled, all pretenses of subtlety flying out the window.


    She heard objects striking the roof and the street, heard the hissing sound of gas being released.


    She could only hope that was all it was.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 51: Insecure

    The look on Professor Reunification¡¯s face just before he logged out was not going to be one of Attaboy¡¯s cherished memories. He had about a second to regret the times he had pretended there was a crisis on the Outside to get away from a particularly boring lesson, which, objectively, was most of them.


    Guess I should have learned from Atticus¡¯ boy and wolf story, he thought. But it seems like a pretty good strategy as long as there isn¡¯t actually a-- holy crap!


    He had sort of ignored the last message from Lilijoy, as it was hard to simultaneously read and get yelled at, so his return to his senses carried a few unwelcome surprises. First was the hissing. There was a nice nook he had found to tuck his body in when he went inside, almost, but not quite on the roof at the top of a collapsed staircase. He just felt weird about lying out in the open somewhere everyone could see while they went about their day, so the snug enclosure felt right and had a great signal. And now a very loud hissing sound on several sides, and a smell¡­


    He inhaled a bit deeper to place it, and then his system began to go nuts.


    <Stop breathing immediately!> Djian yelled, as if the other alarms and notifications in going off in his head weren¡¯t enough. <For sure we have aerosolized capsaicin and airborne nanomachines of some kind.>


    Attaboy squeezed the air he had taken in back out through his nose reflexively, then pushed out a bit more. Already his eyes and lips were burning, but he was much more worried about the unwanted passengers he might have taken in. He had heard a bit about what Lilijoy was working on for the past few days, and had no desire to be dissolved from the inside. Rationally, he understood that something so lethal was probably far too valuable to be used on the likes of him, but it didn¡¯t change the momentary panic he felt.


    <They aren¡¯t doing anything. Yet.> Djian added. <Hardly any made it in. I¡¯m analyzing now.>


    Attaboy checked the timer on his blood bugs, and saw he had about twelve minutes of oxygen if he didn¡¯t move much. He doubted that was going to be an option though. Already, the gas was pouring into his little shelter, forcing him to close his eyes and flood his exposed skin with med bugs.


    <I¡¯m out, kind of wish I wasn¡¯t.> he sent off to the others. <What¡¯s the plan?>


    He couldn¡¯t help but feel that someone must have screwed up for this to be happening, and was just glad it wasn¡¯t him. He was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t him.


    <Help the others> was Lilijoy¡¯s reply. <They were on their way to the AV.> She sent him a map with the positions of friends and foes. <Watch out for snipers.>


    He oriented himself to the map. Looking at it, it was clear that Nykka and company hadn¡¯t gotten very far. The assault vehicle was located in a large equipment shed attached to the main building, a structure that was now little more than rusted steel frame and a few stubborn corrugated panels. They were still in the main building, clustered at the back door that led to the shed.


    <What¡¯s the situation?> he sent to Nykka. He didn¡¯t wait for a reply, because it didn¡¯t matter just yet. First, he needed to get across the roof to the functional stairs, and that wasn¡¯t going to be pleasant. Hope nobody moved the furniture while I was gone, he thought as he pushed out of his shelter, eyes squeezed shut. Someday he would get around to building the crystal lenses that would protect his corneas in circumstances such as these, but that day was not today.


    Fortunately, his spatial memory was perfect, and his echolocation decent. He could feel the gas swirling around him, cold and burning at the same time as he dashed for the stairs, hoping that it obscured the sight of any distant snipers. The roof was in awful shape, but the underlying support beams were still strong and he made it across in seconds, slamming through the door into the stairwell and jumping down the first flight. He slammed off the cinder block wall, then pushed himself around and down the next flight before he finally dared to open his eyes. Even here, the gas flowed and swirled, running down the stairs in wispy rivulets.


    He took a quick sniff, which told him that what he could see was only part of what was there. Now was not the time to supplement his oxygen. Wincing at the sting in his sinuses, he dialed back his pain another notch and ran.


    ***


    Mo staggered under Anda¡¯s weight and shifted once again to keep him on his shoulders. The guy looks so thin, he thought, when did I get so weak? It was an entirely rhetorical thought, but one that insisted on dancing through his head on a loop.


    He was weak. Too weak to defend Maria, too weak to do anything more than cower while children half his age and size did the real work. This whole situation was a clusterfuck, and he should know, having been a part of more than his fair share. At least this time it wasn¡¯t his fault.


    Except that wasn¡¯t really true. He had been sitting back, enjoying the ride, enjoying this new world that he and Maria had somehow created, a universe of two, a fantasy that was far better than what a washed up reprobate and addict like himself deserved. He was all too aware of the clock counting down the days before Maria finally grew past him, before she realized that he, basically, sucked in every way. Damaged goods that were never good in the first place.


    Would she hate him for taking advantage of her ignorance?


    His hallucinations were acting up again, worse than ever. It might be, he pondered, that there was a different clock running, one that would remove him from Maria¡¯s life even before she saw him for what he was.


    He wasn¡¯t sure which clock scared him more.


    Ahead of him Nykka stalked with her sword drawn. She looked dangerous, competent, and more than a little frightening. In front of her stood Camalotz, which Mo found odd, as he was one of the more obscure Mayan entities, the butcher who had helped remove the gods¡¯ second attempt at intelligent life. His large jagged cleaver barred the door to the outside, dripping blood onto the floor.


    ¡°Hold up,¡± Mo called, trying to keep his voice low.


    Nykka turned to him with a look of impatience and made a zipping gesture on her lips. Ignoring Camalotz completely, which made sense since he wasn¡¯t there, she started to push on the back door.


    That was when Lilijoy yelled out something unintelligible, and the sound of several somethings hitting the ground outside came to their ears.


    Awww fuuuck, thought Mo as the hissing sounds began.


    ***


    It was hardly the first time Maria had been woken in the middle of the night to flee to safety. The serfs knew how to look out for one another, how to pass on warning that, say, a particular clan candidate had had a bit too much to drink and was making his way to the dormitories. Or that a supervisor was looking for someone, anyone, to blame for their own mistake. At such times, Maria¡¯s mother would wake the sisters and hurry them to any of a dozen hiding spots to wait out the circumstance. She shuddered to think what might have happened to her sisters or herself had it not been her mother¡¯s tireless dedication to maintaining a social web that would give them warning of such occurrences.


    When did I start thinking with terms like ¡®social web¡¯? her sleepy mind pondered.


    ¡°Get Anda,¡± she overheard Nykka whisper to Mo. ¡°He won¡¯t log out or something.¡±


    Mo grunted in return, and Maria did her best to accommodate her eyes to the darkness. She wasn¡¯t particularly worried by the situation; moving in the middle of the night was just something one had to do sometimes. She trusted that Lilijoy and Nykka had things under control. Some part of her still believed them to be almost supernatural beings, even though she had been around them for over a week, and seen that they were as human as she was in many ways, that even the white demon of Sinaloa had to eat and sleep.


    They were human in many ways, but not every way. Her lessons with Lilijoy were more than enough to drive that point home. The daily sessions were, frankly, terrifying, the very definition of supernatural, and what they were doing to her¡­ she found herself alternating between jubilation and dread. There was a feeling that hung over her, sneaking into her thoughts unguarded, that she was reaching too far, partaking in something unnatural, something dangerous and forbidden.


    Thankfully, Mo was there to anchor her, to reassure her and comfort her when it all became too much. After her lessons, she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and be comforted. They scared her, made her feel inadequate, ignorant. Every day she learned so much, not just from the tiny machines invading her brain, but from the conversations with her teacher. Every day she became smaller, shrinking against the background of all there was to understand, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel that she would ultimately vanish.


    Mo returned with Anda across his shoulders. She had to marvel at his strength, for the tall, black man draped across his body like some ridiculous cape. They made their way through the dark rooms slowly, and she did her best to clear the way, moving stray rubble and bits of improvised furniture from Mo¡¯s path. She wondered if the little machines, the flowers and vines, were already helping her, because it seemed to her that edges were clearer than they should be somehow, that the borders that defined shapes in the dark had a new type of presence drawn upon her vision.


    Soon they were at the back door, if it could be called that. Some previous resident had wired a broad slab of fake wood so that it hung over the opening like a hard, heavy curtain. To exit, they would need to push it up and out.


    ¡°Hold up,¡± Mo called, his voice strained. She turned back and could see his face in the faint light from a high-set, former window. The way his eyes caught the scattered illumination it almost seemed they glowed from within.


    Suddenly Lilijoy yelled from several rooms away. Her voice was high and her words ran together in a burst, a sign, Maria had learned, that her teacher was distracted and had failed to perfectly calibrate her internal sense of time. ¡°They¡¯redroppinggasonus!¡±


    Maria heard thumps from the roof, and then thuds from outside, followed by the sound of a thousand snakes hissing at once. Mo¡¯s eyes widened. She felt a great surge of fear rush through her body, felt her knees weaken. Once again, everyone knew what was going on except her.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ***


    Nykka was pushing on the heavy panel of composite wood when the gas canisters began to fall. Lilijoy¡¯s warning was redundant to her own senses, though it was on the Inside where she had learned to recognize the sound of objects falling from great heights. In fact, the first feeling she registered as the gas canisters began their sinister hissing was one of relief that no waves of fire or electrical storms had sprung forth.


    That feeling was quickly displaced by the reality of the true danger. She doubted that the gas was particularly dangerous in itself, to her anyway, but she feared that its effects would be extremely unpleasant, and the assault to follow even more so. Unfortunately, what was an unpleasant inconvenience to her could be debilitating or even lethal to Mo and Maria. She didn¡¯t know what would happen to Anda, but she assumed his system must have some safeguards in the event of unconsciousness, and this was pretty much the same thing. She couldn¡¯t imagine what could be so pressing on the Inside that he wouldn¡¯t log out if his life were in danger.


    That¡¯s on him, she decided.


    ¡°Mo, put Anda down, maybe throw some of this junk on him.¡±


    Mo stepped forward, more or less allowing Anda to slide down his back and land with a crash.


    ¡°Oops,¡± he said.


    Nykka ignored him and Maria as they went about hiding Anda, distracted first by a message from Attaboy announcing his presence. Hooray, she thought. Our savior has returned. Then Lilijoy sent her an updated map of their assailants, along with a note. <Having technical difficulties. May not be able to update this for a bit.>


    Nykka wondered what that was all about, but she wasn¡¯t about to clog up Lilijoy¡¯s head with useless questions. <Got it> she replied. <M and M hiding Anda, then themselves. I¡¯m going out for some fresh air.>


    <Likewise> came the reply. <Watch out for the sniper to the north. Take him out if you get a chance.>


    <We¡¯ll see. Unlike some people, I¡¯m not bullet proof.>


    Nykka was beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake, hitching her wagon to this group. She still thought it was the least bad option, but the events at the arcology followed by nearly a week sitting on her hands hadn¡¯t done much to inspire optimism.


    Maybe all I need is a good fight, she thought. I haven¡¯t cut someone¡¯s head off Outside in ages.


    ***


    Everything went to hell once the gas-laden canisters began to release their payload. It had been one of Lilijoy¡¯s fears, a very rational one, that if her methods ever became known her opponents would take a few very simple precautions. First, they would make themselves immune to her attacks through the simple expedient of covering exposed skin and blocking access to their face. Second, lots and lots of bug spray.


    She was virtually certain that the people currently assaulting them had no idea what she could do, and yet they had nearly accomplished both of the steps to neutralize her anyway, entirely by accident. The gas was mostly aerosolized capsaicin, that and some bugs that her system was still analyzing. Unfortunately, capsaicin was one of nature¡¯s homegrown insecticides, and her closest links to her network were dropping like the flies they were. Some, those which had completely artificial nervous systems, were doing better than others, but it was already causing huge problems for her extended awareness and ability to control the horseflies poised to attack the enemy. There was no way to turn this into a clean victory, full of mystery and plausible explanations for the enemy to cling to, while hiding her true abilities.


    This was what it meant to have one¡¯s hand forced, and her world, the world would never be the same after, she had a feeling.


    But first, she had to get out of the damn gas. Already it was creeping down from the roof, trickling through the many holes and openings in ceilings and walls. The enemy¡¯s radio communications were disciplined, and her means of interception a bit impaired, but she could tell that they were waiting to ambush her group as they fled the building. The snipers had settled into positions overlooking all the likely avenues of escape, and the rest of the men, those she could still sense, were tightening the circle, closing from multiple angles with measured bursts of movement. Whoever these people were, they were professionals, though she didn¡¯t trust her internet memory to fully inform her on the subject of current tactics.


    It worried her that she couldn¡¯t tell how well the foot soldiers were armed. She knew that Anda¡¯s particularly nasty guns and ammunition were uncommon, but then, this was a force with some kind of air support. They probably had nasty weapons of their own. Even the best skin bugs would fail when specific countermeasures were applied, as she had learned through Anda¡¯s injuries during their time together.


    <Anda, I¡¯m feeling a bit over my head here> she messaged. <I¡¯ll do what I can, but you need to prepare yourself for¡­ anything.> She sent a summary of events and particulars, and a stream of her activities he could follow if he was able. Then she turned her attention to the snipers. They weren¡¯t quite at the points of the compass, but she labeled them that way. South was one she already had a direct link to, thanks to a little luck with her initial flies. East and West were hunkered down and motionless, which would serve them well in many situations, but not when the enemy was a horsefly.


    North was a problem. Her coverage there was thin, and she had lost too many of the links from where she was now. She was already shifting some of the midges to reroute her signals, but for now most of the creatures in that sector would be on autopilot.


    In an ideal world, her attacks would have been simultaneous and decisive. She only had to look over the fallen city to know how far from ideal the world truly was.


    One piece of good news, very good news, was that the systems used by the enemy forces were not hardened against attack. Like all bugs she had run across besides Sinaloa¡¯s, they were almost the opposite, as if they had been designed to be subordinate to her. She still couldn¡¯t decide whether this was an accidental byproduct of Guardian writing in its own back doors, or if this vulnerability had been placed for her and those like her. As usual, her best guess was that it was probably a false dichotomy, that Guardian might not even consider the Tao System as something distinct from itself.


    But then, why hadn¡¯t Guardian arranged long since for the Tao System to proliferate, to fulfill Henry¡¯s dream of a truly upgraded humanity that could fight its own worst impulses? She feared the answer was that minds with the Tao System were ultimately subsumed into Guardian, that their individuality would be an illusion at best. It bothered her quite a bit that she had no way to test this proposition.


    She put aside questions of her own agency and moved her horseflies to attack the three snipers. The sound of their wings was the biggest issue, but that was solved by dropping them from a moderate height onto the stationary men. She had been experimenting with the maneuver for a while, and while there was no way she had found to turn horseflies into gliders, they could steer their fall quite well. From there it was a quick scramble to the tiny band of flesh between mask and shirt.


    The next problem was that horsefly bites were not particularly subtle. They carried no natural anesthetic, and their proboscis was shaped to tear and rend, rather than pierce. This issue was solved easily enough by extending the bite process just a bit. It only took an extra second to send a first wave of Tao System elements through an initial probing attack. These were substitute for a chemical numbing agent, and allowed the fly to dig deep and empty the rest of its payload into the bloodstream without detection.


    She had set these events in motion even before messaging Anda, and it wasn¡¯t long before her vines and flowers were wending their way among the neurons of the snipers. In the meantime, she handled messages from Attaboy and Nykka, maneuvered all the insect forces she could still reach and landed more horseflies on the mobile attackers. Those she held back for the moment, allowing them to ride along on the men''s maneuvers. The introduction of motion into the equation made the biting process more complicated, as the fabric from masks, shirts and various types of body armor moved and covered, greatly reducing vulnerabilities to her horseflies. This would have been where the midges¡¯ role was to fly into eyes, nose and mouth, but the gas masks ruled that out.


    It would only take one man realizing that the horseflies were a danger to nullify their future utility and she wasn¡¯t ready to take that risk just yet.


    The first sniper whose system fell to her was South. She had already had a small presence in his head, enough to intercept sensory signals, probably enough to shut him down if she needed to, or at least render him unfit for combat. That wasn¡¯t the goal though. With the influx of system elements delivered by the horsefly, she was able to begin substituting her own changes to his senses, taking a page from what she had learned of the Suenos System and Marcus¡¯ augsight altering bugs.


    Sensory capture, she thought. You¡¯re my brain in a vat now, buddy.


    Her first action was to sprint out of the building, through the south sniper¡¯s theoretical field of view. She chose a time when the men on the ground wouldn¡¯t have a line of sight, and ran through the gas clouds that now surrounded the building. The gas billowed and swirled with her passage, but was otherwise unable to affect her, as long as she maintained a mild positive pressure in her airways.


    The message she was expecting came almost immediately to the auditory cortex of all she had infiltrated, sent by whoever was running the show. <We have a runner. South entrance. Not a capture. Shoot to kill.>


    There was a fair amount to unpack there. It confirmed that the enemy had eyes from above, and pretty good ones at that. It suggested that they were there to capture one or more of their group, and kill the rest. She allowed the sniper to receive the message, but with a slight delay, and gave him a shadowy figure to aim at. It was far easier on her to be subtle with the alterations to his senses, especially since she might soon be juggling all three snipers. So far, everything was going according to plan.


    <Taking the shot.> the sniper reported. The sharp crack of the bullet breaking the sound barrier followed, almost a continuous string of pops across Lilijoy¡¯s many ears. She had her shadow figure jut into cover just before they would have been hit, an impossible reaction that the sniper could only attribute to luck. <I think that¡¯s a miss> he reported. <Confirm?>


    She let the interaction play out, interested to learn more about their communication style.


    <Not on target, confirmed> came the reply.


    Now to make things a little interesting, she decided. She sent several shadows sprinting from cover to cover through the sniper¡¯s vision.


    <I have multiples. Repeat, I have multiples.> he sent.


    <Cannot confirm. All hold.>


    Just then, the systems of the other two snipers fell into her control. Immediately, she sent more of her phantoms into motion through the shadows of their vision. Immediately, the communications began to fill with reports of movement. The men on the ground were frozen, locked down by the uncertainty of their spotter and the snipers. For a moment, she hoped they would withdraw rather than risk ambush by unknown forces lurking in the darkness. Unfortunately it was not to be.


    <There¡¯s only one heat signature outside of the building> came the voice of the enemy command. She resisted the urge to wave at the sky. <They¡¯re putting up phantoms somehow. Proceed with caution. Snipers stand down.>


    She cursed a bit internally, and then removed the last sentence from what the snipers heard. On the plus side, it seemed that whatever was lurking overhead didn¡¯t have an ability to paint targets, which would have certainly raised the challenge level of her plans. Her guess was it was an airship, possibly in the form of several smaller drones controlled remotely. It, or they, could have been lurking above the lower cloud layer for ages, watching for small groups of people outside of the populous areas, following their comings and goings.


    We came here to find an airship, but it found us first, she thought. Now to find out who they¡¯re here for.


    Nykka was, at that moment, about to venture forth, which Lilijoy no longer thought was a great idea. She was still in the process of reconnecting to her northern sector, and it was clear Nykka would be seen from above through her heat signature.


    <Hold up> she sent.


    <What is it with you people?> Nykka sent back, which confused Lilijoy a bit. She forged on nonetheless.


    <They have IR capable eyes in the sky, and they¡¯re looking to capture at least one of us. My bet¡¯s on you, due to political complications they might want to avoid, though there are other possibilities.>


    <Well, that¡¯s peachy. I¡¯d just gotten myself all psyched up to go on a little chopping trip.>


    <Ha. I¡¯m gathering intelligence as best I can. Would you mind making an appearance on the other side of the building instead? It should be mostly safe. Probably.>


    <Bait?>


    <I want to see if you¡¯re on the capture list. I was going to send an illusion of you to one of the snipers, but- >


    Nykka cut her off. <No problem. On my way.>


    While she waited for Nykka to make her way through the building, she checked on the others as best she could. With most of her critters in the building disabled, her signal to the system elements she had placed in Mo and Maria was weak. She could tell they were alive, and their vitals weren¡¯t alarming. She was sure they were suffering from the gas, but there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it. Attaboy was in there somewhere too. She figured he was okay for now, but sent another message telling him to find and protect Mo and Maria, to forestall him doing anything impulsive.


    It was only a few seconds later that whoever was coordinating the enemy movements lost patience.


    <Launch assault.> came the order.


    <Never mind!> Lilijoy sent immediately. <They¡¯re coming in hot.>


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 52: Missing

    We are legion. We are legion.


    Kukata-vessel brings back the moon. Let us crawl into your face.


    Let us die once more cat-headed demon. We will live inside you.


    Etalaki, etalaki.


    We are missing. We are missing.


    The voices crowded among his thoughts, sometimes crowded out his thoughts. He kept pulling himself back up, fighting for existence under the crushing feet of the crowd, a desperate process that left no room to breathe. There were windows of near sanity, a time when he remembered peeling off just enough of himself to formulate messages that sounded like something he might say. Another time when he had thoughts that felt like something he might think.


    Etalaki.


    How his people referred to those who die young. Missing. Missing from life, missing life. An emptiness, a hollow. Not dead but missing.


    He could end it at any time. The connection to this stew of mind-stuff that had spilled into the Inside was his to command. With every cycle of this great circular stampede thundering across his mind he reached out but then withdrew his will from the command. He yelled into the tumultuous abyss, and if he used the right words, the abyss listened.


    The Etalaki were not individuals, not anymore. Perhaps all of this was one mind that had sprawled, released from its earthly container and splashed and tumbled across a land that was just hospitable enough, to persevere in parts. Now he had collected it back up, lured it in with the hint of familiar essence, a pheromone trail of identity and home, and offered it a taste of the promised land.


    It was very, very hungry.


    Or was it they?


    I should contact Lilijoy, he thought in a moment of lucidity. Or did I already?


    It was difficult to call upon his memories, his personal memories, while feeding the Etalaki¡¯s voracious appetite for language, for lore, for shared experience condensed and nutritious, for context and meaning that might help it, help them, to understand who they were, where they came from. The system utility masquerading as an ability, as Two Minds One Self, was acting as a conduit between his mind and something almost like a vacuum, like a hole in the hull of spaceship Anda through which the atmosphere of his thoughts evacuated.


    Why don¡¯t I plug the hole? he wondered momentarily. At least nothing¡¯s coming in.


    He had the feeling he was forgetting something. Missing something.


    I should contact Lilijoy. No, I already did that. I should...he lost the train of his thoughts, the track too, and a singsong chant passed through him and out


    It is now soft but not yet burst,


    My children of the knee.


    Go, my little one, let me in,


    Open the door to me.


    It was an odd feeling, like the deep buried roots of his childhood were being pulled to surface, a process he couldn¡¯t control, or if he was controlling it, then perhaps the portion of his thoughts observing it wasn¡¯t him? He could barely remember that story, though it came with the scent of fire and the feel of soft blankets upon his skin and the face of his favorite aunt flickering with shadows and light. He remembered the chant because that was his part in the telling; it came back several times, the words passing across his innocent lips like the purest fact.


    Of course children could spring forth from an old man¡¯s knee, and it was entirely natural that the man would sing this song to let them know it was him, and not the wicked strangers who would seek to take them for their own. He did remember, though, wondering just how the children had gotten into the old man¡¯s knee in the first place. It was one of a hundred half-forgotten tales buried within him.


    Kukata-vessel, let us crawl into your face, he thought, or perhaps heard.


    No, he heard, or perhaps replied, that¡¯s just a metaphor. The leaf cannot be reattached to the plant. What is said cannot be unsaid.


    He wondered for a moment if his own words were speaking to him. Was he simply a vessel to them? Then he remembered what was missing. I am Anda Kukata.


    Yes, you contain that identity, vessel, something replied. And more. You contain more, and you leak and spill. Is the gourd the water it contains?


    His head began to hurt, and a wave of dizzy confusion passed through him. He could no longer tell which thoughts were his own, and when he reached for the command that would end this spinning torment, he wondered if he was ending himself.


    He hesitated, and a stray thought ambled across his mind, almost lost in the stampede of wild thoughts on all sides.


    Why is my nose on fire?


    ***


    It was a convenient fact that Nykka had garnered something of a reputation for being bloodthirsty among the Sinaloa clan. Convenient, because, as was the way with such a reputation, it spared her a fair amount of trouble from those who preferred their blood on the inside of their bodies. The fact that she was Quimeas¡¯s protege, or, as most would have it when she wasn¡¯t listening, pet, only went so far in light of her size, appearance, and the ruthless culture of strength that the Doctor had cultivated around him.


    She had done her best over the years to avoid killing those who didn¡¯t truly need it, and whether that was due to compassion or disdain was an open question.


    The first time she killed, on purpose anyway, was at the age of eleven. She didn¡¯t like to think about it, about the feeling of helplessness, and then the rage that swept away her reluctance. In the end, it had been horrible, and messy, and had left her numb and withdrawn for the weeks that followed. On the whole, she much preferred her violence on the Inside, where the consequences, and the mess, were less indelible.


    Even so, the stains from the blood she had shed were a price she was happy to pay for the peace of respect, even if that peace did not follow her easily into the dark places of her imagination.


    <They¡¯re coming in hot.> The words felt like relief. They felt like permission.


    She just hoped some of them made it to her.


    ***


    Attaboy found Mo and Maria by the sound of their retching coughs. They looked pitiful, huddled together in misery, completely overcome by their bodies¡¯ reaction to the gas that had made its way into the building. He almost felt guilty, somehow, that they were suffering so terribly and he wasn¡¯t. His system had just about solved the primary problem of his body¡¯s reaction to the capsaicin, and was rapidly taking care of the lingering symptoms.


    <Djian, any ideas on the bugs floating around? I¡¯d kind of like to breathe someday.> He still had just over seven minutes of oxygen left, according to his blood bug interface, but that could go down in a hurry if he needed to truly exert himself.


    <It¡¯s a good news, bad news situation, so far as I can tell> his alter-ego replied. <They don¡¯t seem to have any ability to interact with human cells, nor do they seem to have any destructive abilities.>


    <And the bad news?>


    <I still don¡¯t know what they actually do.>


    <Great.>


    He stood there for a moment, somewhat paralyzed by his inability to do anything useful, before he made his decision. Ultimately it was the plight of his companions that overcame his reluctance, though the messages he had been receiving from Nykka played a role as well. She seemed to think everything was likely to go to hell, and he didn¡¯t want to wait, in case it took him time to recover.


    <Djian, I need to go full Atticus.>


    ***


    <Launch assault.>


    Wolfie felt the usual thrill of adrenaline when the order came. That, and relief that he was that much closer to being done with the operation du jour. The night air had been cool, but that didn¡¯t do much when you had to maneuver in gear. Perhaps the one blessing of the gas mask he wore was that he didn¡¯t need to smell himself or his neighbor.


    Tonight¡¯s task wasn¡¯t that unusual, extracting a couple non-compliant high-values from whatever den of inequity they had burrowed into. It was the kind of job that payed the bills for the mercenary clan he had joined a few years back, but it didn¡¯t mean he had to like it. He much preferred the sabotage missions, or even the occasional false flag raid. The problem was the friggin¡¯ gas that was used on a flush and grab like this. It was hell getting that stuff off your gear, and it wasn¡¯t like the company cleaned it for them.


    <Stay sharp> his unit leader sent. <There¡¯s been some anomalies tonight.>


    Nice vocab, dude, he thought. Just a few more syllables and captain may finally let you kiss his ass.


    He checked the charge on his weapon, then moved forward on the prescribed route at a fast lope. There was no further need to communicate; the movements and timing of the operation were coordinated from above, sent through encrypted augsight. Just follow the line, green means go. So easy a child could do it, at least until the shooting started. The captain firmly believed that too much information created chaos, and Wolfie couldn¡¯t disagree. He and his fellow soldiers moved like parts of one great beast; everyone could focus on the task in front of them and let victory emerge. It was exhilarating, when seen from the relative comfort and safety of the transport that would move them back to base.


    He heard commotion a quadrant over. Guess someone¡¯s getting to party early, he thought. His display told him to stop just short of the gas zone, and he used the opportunity to review the targets. The one way to seriously screw up here would be to kill one of the high-values. He was a stunner, so the chances of him personally committing such a mistake were slim, but if he didn¡¯t do his job it could put the gunners in an awkward position. He needed to put down the Rank Four girl fast, if she crossed his path. He was less worried about the gob boy, other than the possibility of accidentally stopping the kid¡¯s heart.


    The others he could ignore; the gunners would take care of them.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    <Heat signal on its way> came the captain¡¯s voice, as a new target appeared on his display. He didn¡¯t have line of sight just yet, not from behind the pile of former building where he had stopped, but he could follow the blob as it approached, juking and darting unnecessarily. He always enjoyed this part, watching them come, oblivious and vulnerable.


    Another couple seconds, and the blob resolved into a human figure with a green target laid upon it. This was it, his target, the albino girl he could only assume from the nature of her movements. His fellow squad members would see her with a red target, warning them away from lethal actions. He cast a quick glance around to confirm their locations. If necessary, they could contain her until he came to bring the hurt.


    That¡¯s odd. Park is usually up with Mendos. And why isn¡¯t Looky flanking?


    He didn¡¯t have time to consider the mysterious configuration of his squad, because his target was almost even with his position. She couldn¡¯t have picked a better route, for him anyway. He exchanged a glance and a nod with Nils, his partner for this operation and so many before, who was crouched on the other side of the narrow path through the rubble that had once been a street. It was Nils¡¯ job to distract the target, to keep them occupied until Wolfie could seal the deal. One had to be careful with a Rank Four; sometimes the gas didn¡¯t phase them much.


    There were some big-ass flies circling the guy¡¯s head, which gave him a moment of amusement. He¡¯d rag him about it on the way back.


    The target stopped just before passing between them, and Wolfie heard a tapping noise.


    Is that her foot? he wondered.


    ¡°Who wants to go first?¡± she asked, her voice somehow lower than he would have expected.


    Wolfie and Nils exchanged glances. Even with his system, it was hard to see much beyond his partner¡¯s eyes through the gas mask, but he thought he caught a raised eyebrow, the sure indication of a smirk below. The rest of the unit would be circling in and¡­


    <Move to assigned positions!> barked the captain.


    Wolfie thought Nils looked as confused as he felt at that. They were in their assigned positions.


    ¡°I¡¯m waiting...¡± said the girl.


    Wolfie checked his display once more. He wasn¡¯t sure where the others were assigned to be. That fell under the whole ¡®too much information¡¯ issue. But he was pretty sure they weren¡¯t supposed to be where they were, and, seeing as how several appeared to be lying down, they weren¡¯t supposed to be doing what they were doing. The unit leader, in particular, was certainly not supposed to be wandering out of the combat zone on an odd zigzag trajectory as if he¡¯d knocked back, or been knocked by, a few too many.


    Now that¡¯s an anomaly, he thought.


    Another glance was exchanged, and this time Nils shrugged. <Guess we¡¯re on our own?> he sent.


    <Subdue the target> came the command from above.


    Wolfie motioned with his hand. <Go. See if you can turn her.>


    Nils knew his job well. He had long since stowed his principal firearm, and now he had what he liked to refer to as his ¡®pacifier¡¯ in hand, a rather substantial metal rod with a rubberized coating.


    ¡°You can make this easy on yourself,¡± he said, stepping out onto the former street¡¯s graveled surface. ¡°We¡¯re professionals. Put down the sword and-¡±


    There was the dull thud of metal on¡­ Pacifier, and Wolfie began to slip out from his cover. Nils job was simply to put the girl¡¯s back to him, but it wouldn¡¯t be the first time the large Afrikaner drew things out for his own amusement. Wolfie had once watched him handle a Rank Five who was armed with a pair of handguns. It¡¯s very hard, Wolfie learned on that occasion, to aim a pistol without making it quite obvious where the bullet is going. That was the first time he witnessed someone actually parry a bullet.


    It also really doesn¡¯t matter, it turned out, how hard your skin is when your brain impacts the inside of your own skull from blunt force to the forehead.


    He peered around a slumped brick corner and readied his own weapon as a sniper¡¯s shot sounded in the distance. It was important that he put the girl down before Nils got carried away. Professionalism only went so far after all. Not that this was going to be much of a problem. It was a little sad, Wolfie thought, how so many people thought they could somehow bring their Inside weapon of choice into the real world. This little girl with her oversized blade was probably a holy terror in the Garden.


    Sorry, honey, there¡¯s no magic out here. Welcome to physics 101. Come on, Nils, get your ass out of the way so we can end this and go home. Play time is over.


    Indeed, he could see the girl had a displeased, almost disappointed expression on her face as Nils rebuffed her attacks, almost casually spinning Pacifier to intercept blows that, to her credit, were lightning fast, belying the apparent mass of her weapon. She was good, Wolfie would give her that. In a tournament, she would be a force to reckon with, even with her size disadvantage.


    Then the magic happened. The moment that changed Wolfie¡¯s sense of the possible, that would shape his sense of how reality could work for the rest of his life.


    Which was less than thirty seconds.


    With a sigh of resignation, she stepped into range and swung the blade in an upward arc. It was too fast for Wolfie to see exactly how it happened, how her sword somehow moved through an inch of solid metal. For a split second he thought the sword had broken, that the top foot of it had flown off around Pacifier and somehow struck Nils. For another split second, he waited for Nils to put the girl down in annoyance for having taken the hit.


    Then, somehow, she was standing over his partner, and he felt the spray, like hot rain, heard the red spatter across his mask. The sword was intact. Nils, not so much.


    He took the shot. Hundreds of microfilaments fired out from the bulbous head of his weapon, an invisible net distributed across a wide enough area to make dodging impossible for even the best Rank Three augments. For most below Rank Five, the filaments alone were enough to incapacitate. They were thin enough and tough enough to slice through anything short of armor, should the target struggle. Of course, that wasn¡¯t where it ended, because the weapon was smart enough to know where it hit and could drive a chaotic storm of high-voltage pulses through any two filaments, enough to overwhelm nervous system and bugs alike.


    Wolfie had never heard of anyone lower than Rank Eight resisting it, though there were rumors of new Rank Fives with built in countermeasures. There were always rumors though, and personally, he doubted it. The man-o-war was far too uncommon a weapon for a clan to invest time and treasure in defense against it. It was a specialist¡¯s weapon, and only someone who was exceptionally paranoid and with way too much time on their hands would bother to create countermeasures on the tiny chance it would ever be wielded against them or their forces.


    The girl dropped to one knee, her sword arm outstretched and quivering. If Wolfie squinted, he thought he could see the faintest hint of a black web of filaments from the man-o-war crossing her white skin. It was easy to see the muscles of her face twitching, the corner of her mouth pulling back in an electric rictus.


    He failed to see the moment her sword thrust toward his head, elongating impossibly fast, and so he missed his last chance to see something like magic on the Outside, because in the time it would have taken for him to understand what was happening, the sword, now thin as a barbecue skewer and much, much longer, had entered into his skull and formed a shape reminiscent of a Christmas tree where much of his brain used to be.


    ***


    <They¡¯re coming in hot> Lilijoy sent. There was no time for her to try anything too fancy. She sent her remaining horseflies in for the kill and piled as many midges as she could spare in the paths of the three groups she had eyes on. Everything her insects sensed from the southern group was also being relayed to Nykka, which left the east and west to her.


    She could only hope that the north group gave her enough time to get back before anyone was hurt or killed. On any other day, she could have counted on Anda to solve that problem, but he wasn¡¯t responding. That left¡­


    <Attaboy, there are five enemy soldiers closing on your side of the building. I don¡¯t have any insects that can intercept them at the moment. Try to keep yourself and the others safe until Nykka or I can get there. I¡¯ll feed what I can through to you as I learn more.>


    He replied quickly. <Got it. I¡¯m the only here with mobility. Where did Anda put the guns?>


    For some reason, it hadn¡¯t crossed her mind that Attaboy would want that information, probably because, as far as she knew, he had never used a gun. She slapped herself on the wrist mentally for letting an assumption blind her, and quickly passed the information to him. There were several caches of weapons tucked throughout the building. Anda always liked to have options close by.


    Time shifted and lurched as she stretched her multitasking abilities, simultaneously guiding her insects and managing the signals to and from the men whose systems had been infiltrated. She was quickly forced to discard good in favor of ¡®good enough¡¯, and then ¡®good enough¡¯ in favor of ¡®could be worse¡¯, when it came to her manipulations. The snipers she wanted as a backup, and she simply furnished them with the same view they had had for a few minutes now. Unfortunately, that view included swirling gas and random ambient sounds, so it took up more of her processing power than she would have preferred.


    The men on the ground she tried to take out as quickly as possible. Some she was able to put to sleep soon after her bugs reached their brains. Others, those who might have gotten a midge in the ear or the like, she had to handle with more creativity, as she couldn¡¯t simply overwhelm their systems. She impaired their motor functions and invaded their auditory cortices when possible, sending them stumbling around with fake commands to withdraw.


    All the while, she passed counterfeit reports up to the captain who seemed to be running things, doing her best not to conflict completely with what was visible to his eyes in the sky. What worked in her favor was that the captain seemed to prefer to maneuver his men in ways that reminded her of early twenty-first century video games, using his top-down view point to draw paths and assign targets. He didn¡¯t seem to like giving orders by voice, or perhaps he was simply overwhelmed, because his attempts to salvage the situation were sporadic at best.


    It could also be, she mused, that he hasn¡¯t quite realized how out of control things are down here quite yet.


    While doing all this, she darted toward the two soldiers she hadn¡¯t been able to sabotage from the eastern group. It was better to take them out while she could, no matter how much she wanted to return to the others. She could see them, one half crouched in the standing door frame of a collapsed building, the other, about forty feet away, tending to one of her unconscious victims. They both carried some kind of small machine gun or assault rifle. She could see the moment they got word she was on her way, through their sudden change to an alert posture. Barrels came up and trained toward her, as if the men could see her through the mounds of rubble and half-tumbled buildings. Which they probably could, she realized, as they were being fed the data from above.


    I really need to figure out some way to modify the skin bugs to get them to hold onto heat temporarily, she thought. Fair fights are no fun.


    There was no way she could take on even one of these men with a frontal assault. Luckily, she didn¡¯t need to. All she needed to do was get them to stand in the east sniper¡¯s line of fire and then convince the sniper that they were her. Unfortunately, that was far easier said then done. The snipers had great angles on the building her group had been camping in, but not so much on the rubble-strewn warren where the streets had once been.


    New plan, she decided. Time to wake up sleeping beauty.


    She stopped her advance for a few seconds while her flowers went into overdrive in the brain of the man at the foot of one of her untouched enemies. She didn¡¯t have anything approaching control of the sleeper or his senses, for she had sent most of the flowers that made it into his bloodstream straight for the areas that initiate slow wave sleep. But it wasn¡¯t like she needed to rewire anything. She simply needed to gain control of his existing system and give his perceptions a few tweaks.


    She watched it unfold through her insects, the moment that the sleeper awoke, limbs flailing in panic. She saw the other man try to hush him, saw him kneel down. That was when she made the kneeling man¡¯s gas mask look like a writhing, demonic beast clamping on to his face and then gave the former sleeper¡¯s amygdala a jolt of extra alarm for good measure. The panicked tussle that ensued wasn¡¯t pretty, what little she could see of it through the eyes of her waiting swarm, but it certainly got the job done. At some point a few seconds in, the mask was dislodged sufficiently for some of her midges to make it into the guy¡¯s airways.


    One down.


    Meanwhile the soon-to-be last effective member of the squad had heard the struggle, and was looking nervously around, as if unsure what he was supposed to do. Now that he was the only one, it wasn¡¯t hard for Lilijoy to pull him out of position by the simple expedient of running toward the area where Nykka was about to engage two members of the south squad. Soon, he was following, and it was simplicity itself for Lilijoy to substitute her own heat signature and image for his in the sniper¡¯s internal display. The sniper had a simple shot, since his unsuspecting compatriot made no effort to minimize his profile against a threat from behind.


    Two down.


    There was only one member of the west group remaining, and he had remained in place so far, while the captain tried to figure out just what could be happening to his operation, or so she assumed. She sent every remaining midge in that area to land on him. It was only a matter of time before one of them would find a way to his skin, hopefully unnoticed. She didn¡¯t want to pull the sniper trick unless it was the only option, since there would be no way to play that off as some weird friendly fire accident from a technical malfunction, not when the captain could see that she and Nykka were nowhere near the area.


    And then there was Nykka¡¯s battle. Lilijoy was already on her way back to help the others as it happened. Nykka had made her own decision, and Lilijoy wasn¡¯t inclined to talk her out of it, or to delay helping those closer to her heart.


    That certainly turned out to be the correct decision, though she was sure that Nykka would be some time recovering from whatever that strange weapon had done to her. The flowers that Lilijoy had in Nykka¡¯s body reported that her vital signs weren¡¯t horrible, so she could wait.


    Boy, she thought, we¡¯re really going to need to have a talk about that sword.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 53: Anticipation

    It was one of those unspoken universal customs, almost a taboo, that one didn¡¯t look in the internet archive to see what a place had once been. Naturally, as with such social conventions since the dawn of human history, everyone did, but everyone was also very careful not to discus their findings in polite company. It spoke perhaps to a collective guilt, this urge to look away, to deny what had been lost, somehow externalized, as if the land was an aging actor who might not want to be reminded of their current decrepitude.


    Many locations had been renamed, another way to put a blanket over the past in the hopes that it might sleep. The old names carried heavy burdens, after all.


    That¡¯s nobody¡¯s business but the Turks, thought Magpie as Kuroudonain docked with the equally vast dome of what the Josho Clan called either East Island, or New Rishiri, depending on who was talking. What nobody called it was Santa Cruz, nor were there references to the even heavier name, Galapagos.


    Not that there were Galapagos islands anymore, not as the ancients knew them anyway. It was all one island now, the original islands turned to volcanic hills and mountains, mottled green blotches standing over a carp-shaped blob of black and brown. Magpie could see the remains of broken domes far below, early efforts to preserve whatever it was the ancients had found special about this place, now as broken and abandoned as their hopes.


    Those old domes did explain the Josho Clan¡¯s presence though. Lord Josho had been the lead engineer on that failed effort to preserve the unique ecosystem of the area, and had even ridden out the worst years after Guardian¡¯s rise on the islands his group was tasked with preserving. Magpie couldn¡¯t imagine what he must feel, looking out over his failed works, made first obsolete and then ridiculous by the passing years, ruins lifted high by the receding waters.


    For her, this arrival marked its own kind of transition. Kuroudonain would not be going farther to the east. Her time among the clouds was at an end, soon to be nothing more than memory.


    She put aside her melancholic thoughts as Renzuru approached her at the viewing port. Over the long journey, Magpie and the Josho Clan¡¯s head of security had sparred on multiple occasions, both with weapons and with words. These sessions had been instructive, the way falling down a mine shaft was instructive about gravity. Renzuru didn¡¯t mince words then and she didn¡¯t now.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me a reason to have you hunted down.¡±


    Magpie looked out at the volcanic cones in the distance. ¡°Do you really need a reason?¡±


    ¡°We have better things to do. That¡¯s the main thing.¡± Renzuru stood next to her and took in the view. Magpie could never figure out if the threats from her were genuine or part of some kind of game that the woman played for her own amusement, or if there was even a difference.


    A minute or two passed, a silence that had a language all its own, one that Magpie had learned from her various mentors over the years. Such silences shaped the meaning of what was said better than adding more words ever could.


    ¡°Give my regards to Uncle,¡± Renzuru said at last.


    ¡°I¡¯d wondered,¡± Magpie replied. ¡°How much you really knew about the Flock. But I told you the truth when I said I was done with all that.¡±


    Renzuru allowed a dry chuckle to escape. ¡°You don¡¯t know where the boundaries of the Flock lie, so how could you tell if you were in or out of it? A flock doesn¡¯t depend on the understanding of its members; it emerges when they follow their instincts, their program. You, girl, have been thoroughly programmed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a name.¡± Even as she said it, Magpie felt her response inadequate, defensive.


    ¡°And names are just inadequate containers for a reality that overflows and spills between them like water through a net. If you consider it, all words are names. The only difference is how the meaning has been attached, when it was accumulated and how much has been forgotten.¡±


    Renzuru sounded as if she was explaining to a toddler why shitting themselves was a bad idea. This was not unusual for their interactions, where Renzuru would bludgeon Magpie with ideas, in between actually bludgeoning her. Honestly, she preferred the physical combat, where she could follow the ebb and flow of the movements and at least understand why she was beaten. The rest of the time, she felt like Renzuru might just be making things up to mess with her, or as if there was a joke that kept passing over her head.


    ¡°You don¡¯t happen to know Raven, do you?¡± she asked. ¡°I think you two would really get along.¡±


    ¡°All those bird names run together,¡± Renzuru replied. ¡°It¡¯s a silly affectation.¡±


    Hours later, Magpie looked out the window of a small airship bound for the Corp¡¯s continental headquarters, together with Josho clan members on their way to fulfill whatever duties the clan had thrust upon them. There was nothing to see through the dark panel, other than reflections of small lights from within the cabin, but she pretended there might be nonetheless. Too many thoughts were running through her head to allow drowsiness.


    She was now less than a thousand kilometers away, less than a day''s travel at her current speed. Lilijoy had no idea she was coming, not even an inkling it was a possibility, and soon Magpie would need to contact her, to have what was sure to be the most awkward conversation imaginable. She had played it through in her head a thousand times, and it never turned out well.


    In the end, it didn¡¯t matter though. However ill-conceived this trip across the Pacific had been, it had been her idea, her plan and no one else¡¯s. What came next could never take that away.


    ***


    With four strides on the Inside for every one on the Outside, Lilijoy ran, her hopeful destination the same in both worlds. Anda.


    The orcs were gone now, Jess and Skria too, off on a short instanced travel to rejoin the main force of their army. She had stayed behind, for Anda had never made an appearance, nor had he responded to her recent messages.


    Without the presence of the Maasai revenants, the Rotted Lands were, not exactly normal, but certainly navigable. Smaller too, somehow, a thin slice of land from which she could sometimes see the tops of isolated, towering trees in the distance, their dim profiles something like giant baobabs against the night sky. She could only assume that their roots were in the lands of the Great Grass Sea.


    She didn¡¯t have much attention to spare for her search on the Inside, but hopefully not much would be needed to find Anda in the barren landscape, already scoured halfway to flat by the new winds. Anda¡¯s inability or unwillingness to return to his senses on the Outside and move from burden to ally was the single biggest problem she needed to solve. A small amount of distraction was worth the chance that the solution would be found with his Inside presence.


    Outside, she heard a shotgun blast from the building containing the others, and was simultaneously relieved and fearful. It was good that Attaboy had found the guns, but very bad that he was already forced to use them. There was no return fire, which was something. Her flies were doing their best to look into the area, but the gas was too much for their feeble vision and overwhelming to their other senses, something like an extended flash-bang at the chemical level.


    She had captured a few exchanges between the enemy soldiers, though overall they seemed to possess a remarkable communications discipline which kept her from learning very much. In that way, it worked the way such things were supposed to, she imagined. It spoke to a high degree of professional paranoia, which told her as much as anything she had heard pass between them.


    What was clear was that these were professionals, mercenaries who specialized in small scale operations like this one, where a clan would want a certain degree of remove, of deniability. Why that would be, she couldn¡¯t say for sure, though she had plenty of ideas. Most likely it was Walden behind this, she surmised, working around Corp rules against open battle near the continental headquarters and avoiding overt conflict with Sinaloa. She had also learned that there was one other target for capture in addition to Nykka. Her money was on Attaboy, though she couldn¡¯t rule out Anda. It just made more sense for it to be Attaboy, if it was Walden. They would want to make a statement with him, something that a quick death wouldn¡¯t achieve.


    Watching Nykka¡¯s fight had given her a lot to think about. These men were competent, lethal, and only a little overconfident. Against Nykka, even that small amount of hubris had proved fatal. Still, that had only been two soldiers, who were hampered by the need to capture, rather than kill, and even then surprised by a weapon with capabilities they could not have expected. In the end, it had been a near thing, for Nykka was still out of commission for who knew how long.


    Now Lilijoy was faced with taking on five more, plus the sniper, who she had lost track of; she was concerned he had withdrawn to find a new angle. Her insects couldn¡¯t help her within the gas, so the combat would be direct. On her side she had... Attaboy.


    <I¡¯m almost there> she sent. <I grabbed up a couple gas masks from some guys who didn¡¯t want them any more. Toss me a sensory feed when you get the chance?>


    She went on to warn him of the strange weapon used against Nykka and give him a brief synopsis of events, all the while worried whether he was up to his role in this situation.


    It wasn¡¯t that she wasn¡¯t glad that he was there. He might have already been the difference between disaster and a salvageable situation. He was protecting the others, contributing to the fight. There was a good chance this was all his fault, more or less, but she had let that go. The world they were trying to navigate was too big, with too many unknowns for either of them not to make mistakes. Attaboy was more rash, more impulsive, and arguably more stubborn than she was, so it was only natural his mistakes would be bigger too. Her mistakes were no less profound, but much less overt, mistakes of caution, of complacency.


    But now was not the time to dwell on responsibility for the current situation. She dashed into the lingering gas, leaving her insects behind, along with contingency instructions for the system elements she had infiltrated into the snipers and other soldiers. She had made it all of ten feet when the first bullet hit her and she was falling, half dodging, half reacting to the shock of the impact on her rib cage. Her skin held, but the shock damaged her ribs and caused her heart to stop beating momentarily, and it was all she could do to roll behind a mound of broken brick that had once been a low wall as more bullets slammed into the earth around her.


    Just then, Attaboy¡¯s sensory feed came to her, compounding the chaos. He held one of Anda¡¯s many guns, a stubby set of black metal tubes which corresponded roughly to the tactical shotguns from her internet memory, though overgrown with barrels. Anda had shown it to her at one point when he was walking her through his armory, calling it a five-shot. It was a common weapon on the Outside, and like many of the weapons provided by Inside manufacturing formulas, it had unique quirks and limitations. Foremost among those was the fact that there was no way to replace the ammunition. The five-shot literally had only five shots in the form of blasts of tightly spaced bearings, after which it became a half-decent club at best. It was a popular weapon because the formula and Inside materials were common and available, unlike the guns and ammunition that Anda preferred, which were exceptionally rare and closely held. Anyone with sufficiently capacious molecular manufacturing units could churn five-shots out with abandon, provided they had sufficient feedstock on the Outside.


    Attaboy had two shots left, if her memory served, assuming his gun had started with the original five. He was standing against an interior wall of the back room, the gun pointing between the board-draped back exit and the opening connecting to the rest of the building. Threads of light filtered through the high set window openings, just enough for her to catch a bit of movement from his opponents from the adjoining space. Her processing speed was fast enough to see that the movement was a piece of cloth or something similar attached to a stick. He didn¡¯t take the bait though, which made her happy.


    More bullets fell around her, pinning her in place. Her heart was still feeling a little twitchy, though there was no real harm done. As far as she could tell, there were at least two shooters, armed with relatively low-powered semi-automatic weapons, and it certainly seemed like, unlike Attaboy, they had ammo to spare.


    I¡¯ve got to find Anda and get him Outside, she thought. I can¡¯t get there in time. Although¡­


    She was still in range of her insect network, which meant she had other, unwitting allies. It was the work of only a few seconds to pass the targeting information to her sniper on the south side, using her system¡¯s best guess for the location of the gunmen who had her pinned down. They were firing from windows on the first floor of the building she needed to enter, which meant Attaboy was completely surrounded.


    The sniper began to fire and the bullets flying around her stopped. Without hesitation, she scrambled to her feet and began to run the last stretch, feeling some regret that she hadn¡¯t taken a sidearm from one of her earlier attackers. She didn¡¯t bother dodging, and made it to the side of the former construction company¡¯s headquarters without taking fire. Whether that meant the gunmen were taken out, or taking shelter she didn¡¯t know, which worried her. If they were still able to fight, they would already know where she was, would already be receiving orders anticipating her movements.


    She had tricked the other snipers into searching the sky for whatever craft was up there surveilling and coordinating the action below, but it was impossible for them to see through the low hanging clouds in the dark of night. The enemy¡¯s advantage would be diluted considerably, if she could only get into the building, but the men would be waiting for her, and even if they had been taken out, the others would know she was coming.


    On the Inside, she stopped. Running through the Rotted Lands hoping to find Anda wasn¡¯t going to work in time, it seemed. A better solution was needed.


    She pulled up her character sheet, hoping for inspiration.


    <hr>


    Name: Emily Level: 27


    Defender of the Young


    Dark Lady of the Thorns


    Blessed of Nandi


    Awakener


    Free Points: 12


    HP: 110


    Natural Traits


    STR: 23 (44 effective)


    END: 59


    SPD: 57 (307 effective)


    KA: 152


    Magical Traits


    POW: 21


    INV: 52


    VIT: 28


    FLASH: 88


    MW: 169


    MG: 10%/100 Sec.


    Elemental Affinities/Immunities


    Fire: 38


    Earth: 68


    Water: 30


    Air: 28


    Charm:


    People: 34


    Plants: 78


    Animals: 67


    Abilities


    Scan III (Universal)


    Low Light Vision II (Common)


    Echolocation IV (Uncommon)


    Infrared Vision III (Uncommon)


    Mana Manipulation (Rare)


    Earthen Sense II (Very Rare)


    Body Warp (Unique)


    Two Minds One Self (Unique)


    Skills (VP)


    Body Manipulation: Illustrious Journeyman (40)


    Nature: Animals: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Nature: Plants: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Unarmed Combat: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Acrobatics: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Medical/Healing: Enhanced Journeyman (25)


    Meditation: Upgraded Journeyman (10)


    Poisons: Upgraded Journeyman (10)


    Manipulation: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Stealth: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blade: Short: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Weapons: Blunt: Club: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.Climbing: Augmented Apprentice (9)


    Deception: Augmented Apprentice (6)


    Hand Weaving: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Weapons: Projectile: Sling: Augmented Apprentice (6)


    Gliding/Flight: Upgraded Apprentice (6)


    Teaching: Natural Initiate (2)


    Disguise: Natural Novice (1)


    Dance: Natural Novice (1)


    Leather Working: Natural Initiate (2)


    Jewelry Crafting: Natural Initiate (2)


    Swimming: Natural Initiate (2)


    Pottery: Natural Novice (1)


    Glass Working: Natural Novice (1)


    Magic


    Source:


    Earth: Journeyman (5)


    Clade:


    Mass: Journeyman (5)


    Matter: Apprentice (3)


    Aspect: Initiate (2)


    Class:


    Fused: Apprentice (3)


    Shaped: Initiate (2)


    Spell:


    Barrier: Initiate (2)


    <hr>


    How to find Anda? Her Earthen Sense II ability was the best bet, and once again, she regretted passing by many opportunities to raise it. She still had twelve free points, which she had been hoarding to use with her elemental magic as it developed, so raising the ability was simple, and relatively cheap at three points. How useful it would be in a land with no real solidity remained to be seen, but it needed to be done, or she would end up regretting it yet again at some point in the future. She spent the points.


    Then she buried her feet further in the ashy ground and plunged both hands in as well, wriggling her toes and fingers in the oddly soft material. The tense situation on the Outside made it difficult to concentrate, to the point that she built a barrier within her mind, nearly separating herself into two consciousnesses. As she feared, when the ability activated it worked poorly. She could feel tremors from the distant combat, the subsonic cries of the Regional Lord and huge explosions rippling the material she was connected to, but even that was diffuse, like seeing through thick fog. Any subtleties were lost, unable to propagate through the dampening properties of the ground.


    I might be better off running around hoping to get lucky, she almost decided. If only there was a way to amplify the signals, some kind of antenna, or lens.


    As soon as she had the thought, her mind began to fill with solutions. She had a tool now, her Barrier spell, that could form straight edged structures of any dimensions she desired, limited only by her mana well. The only question was, just how many walls could she make? She began to draw on her system resources in a way she never had before, searching through her internet memory, drawing on it to build mental models one on top of another in quantum superposition, searching the space of possible structures for the one she needed, the proper configuration and spacing of multiple straight lines to act as receiving antenna and amplifier. She felt her system dumping waste heat down her spine, felt her Outside self marveling at the massive undertaking, even as she fought to retain the resources she needed to survive there.


    Seconds ticked by as she forced her system to work harder, forced herself to think faster, pulling half understood concepts and diagrams into the realm of comprehension, devouring equations without pause, urgency and flow combining to slow time to a trickle.


    Then she had it. Had something anyway, and with no hesitation, she fed her model outward, into one barrier spell, and then another, etching wall after wall into a whole network of connected barrier spells until the structure she needed formed around her as a virtual presence, a many-layered enclosure of low, straight walls and gaps like an i-ching bagua run amok. Her awareness on the Outside narrowed dangerously, she fed her mana into the outline, unsure whether it was one spell or many.


    It was fitting, she decided, to create a giant metamaterial structure with a meta-spell. The geometry of the structure surrounding her would, if she had calculated correctly, act like a lens to amplify the signals coming through the earth. She doubted such an attempt would work on the Outside, but she had a strong feeling that magic would have its own role to play here, that the almost ritual aspect of the structure, combined with her intent would do the rest. She could almost feel the Inside guiding her.


    Her mana drained as the earth around her was sucked up, and down, into the walls. The spell took longer than usual, not because of its size, but because the earth in the Rotted Lands was light and almost endlessly compressible. Almost, but not completely, for the spell finally set, though her mana continued draining at an alarming rate to maintain the massive antenna she had built for herself. With no time to waste, she reached out and connected to it, apprehensive that she had made a mistake, or that her guesses about how her Earthen Sense worked were simply wrong.


    One hand, and then the other reached out to connect to the two walls she had created as conduits for the signal and then her Earthen Sense came crashing into her, screaming into her mind like staring at the sun, an overwhelming jumble of noise that caused her to immediately drop her hands.


    Good thing I walled my Inside senses away from the Outside, she thought. She brought her hands up again, not able to waste the time it would take to recover. This time, she made the connection light, just grazing the smooth dark surface with her fingertips, using pressure as a kind of volume control. The end result was confusing and imperfect, but worked as she had hoped, furnishing her with a mental map of a huge swathe of the Rotted Lands, shining bright with the disturbances from the distant battle.


    There! she thought triumphantly. There he is.


    It was a relatively small disturbance standing out against the monotony, the pressure on the land and the movement creating a small signal almost swamped in the ambient noise, but it was enough. She leapt onto the closest wall and hurtled off toward the source, jumping across the gaps before landing in a spray of the ashy soil. She shot off across the barren land, leaving her creation to collapse behind her, countless fragments spilling back to softness.


    ***


    Mo was pretty sure he was dying.


    In a sense, this was nothing new. He had spent much of his life poised between cowering fear and defiant acceptance of his future death, a razor¡¯s edge that had sliced down the middle of his existence. At any given time, the coward or the belligerent might be on the outside, only to flip and display his other face. He despised this about himself, on those few times he was forced to think about it.


    Become what you fear. Become the demon. He wasn¡¯t sure what that said about him, those buried motivations from another lifetime given words. Had he failed in that too? Undoubtedly, but it was just as well. He figured most of the bad guys he knew were doing the same thing, other than the real psychos, an arms race of evil facades, slowly sinking through the skin. Cursed armor that corrupted while it protected.


    Huh, he mused, dying brings out my philosophical side.


    The pepper gas had really done a number on him. He¡¯d long since given up on trying to draw breath, though somehow the sharp spasms of his burning lungs were keeping unconsciousness at bay. It could be, he supposed, that there were still some blood bugs kicking around in his body. The things were only good for a month or two, but that was some kind of half life thing, so there might still be enough from that batch Boggs had paid him with to make a difference.


    He gagged against the burning swell of his constricted throat, and felt rivulets of snot and tears running down his face. He was pretty sure he was dripping on Maria. The suffering was extreme, but came in waves, as did the hallucinations, or augsight flashbacks, or whatever the fuck it was that his swiss-cheesed brain did pretty much all the time now. The visions of various Mayan deities were almost comforting, in some twisted way. Gods he didn¡¯t have names for danced in the fires of his burning skin, but he sensed that they were honoring his suffering instead of mocking it.


    Mo was dying, but the voices in his head beckoned him onward. Embrace the sacred powder, they called. Let it purify your house.


    Like much of what his hallucinations said to him, it was nonsense, a stew of words and symbols pulled from forgotten books or texts he had skimmed over the years on the internet archive, chewed, swallowed and barfed back into his consciousness. That this symbolic spew often dovetailed with his own thoughts and current experiences, or even anticipated them only drove home how slow his awareness was. Even his screwed up unconscious was more on top of things than his creaking, crippled brain.


    He gagged some more, and writhed a little for good measure, as the agony in his sinuses, eyes and throat momentarily overwhelmed him. He could hear Maria whimpering and the sound of gunfire in the distance. He could hear his heartbeat, erratic, beating out the meter of the voices in his head.


    A shotgun blast nearby made his ears ring. His inner voices leapt into the hollow silence of his unhappy eardrums. He was a fool, they told him, a coward. Purify your house, they said. Fear not, whispered a woman¡¯s voice that slithered through his mind like oiled rope, to seek death is to seek life. Death is the door, and blessed are they who open it of their own accord.


    The voice was not comforting. It belonged to Ixtab, perhaps his least favorite of the deities that haunted him. Not that the parade of horribles marching across his mental landscape had a shortage of candidates, but many of them blurred and spilled into one another, perhaps victims of his own fuzzy conceptualization, whereas Ixtab had her own vivid identity, as unmistakable as her domain.


    Mo had never been one to overthink; Mayan gods were bad-asses and so was he, aspirationally at least. Ixtab, though, was a different category. She took the souls of suicides directly to heaven, a concept which made Mo uncomfortable. How a culture could have persisted that venerated violence against the self was a puzzle, why they would have worshiped a rotted corpse hung by her own noose¡­ well, that he could almost understand. That was how the Mayans rolled, no sugarcoating, no flinching from the terrors of existence.


    It didn¡¯t mean he was fond of said terrors dropping in on him on a regular basis though.


    Little Tony, said Ixtlab, wishes to be the demon he is afraid of. Wonders why my worshipers did not hasten to my embrace. I offer comfort, little Tony, I offer purpose. I am for those who were left behind. I am the answer for the question that breaks the heart.


    Mo¡¯s heart stopped. An odd internal silence descended, the pulse of blood deafening in its absence. From it rose a feeling of clarity.


    Are you¡­ talking to me? he asked in his thoughts. His visions had spoken many times; they could, at times, be a noisy bunch, but never before had one addressed him so personally. Hearing his old name, the discarded remnant of a rejected childhood, drop from the lips of a corpse should have been disturbing. Instead, he felt peaceful.


    I really am dying, he realized, and my brain is throwing one hell of a going away party.


    The walls of your self are thin, said Ixtlab. The blood of this world reaches through. Purify your house and you will be my priest.


    Yeah, about that, Mo replied. Setting aside the obvious fact that I¡¯ve finally lost my mind completely, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m just about to check out. Maybe you could help Maria get over it or something? Except don¡¯t show yourself to her. I¡¯m pretty sure that would--


    He was interrupted by cackling laughter that creaked and swung. Exactly! You have lost your mind, and I have found it. A pretty bauble to be sure, cracked to catch the light just so. Madness is a necessity, little Tony, if you wish to approach the divine.


    Can you stop it with the ¡®little Tony¡¯ bit? he complained.


    But that¡¯s who you are, trapped in here with me, she burbled. The little boy whose parents stayed behind, not the demon he tried to become. They died for you, little Tony. They died, died, died, died. For you. Purify your house, little boy.


    His heart beat. Once. Did it ever actually stop, or did he stop, while his heart continued?


    Purify my house?


    He felt his skin burning, felt tears and snot streaming.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Moonbeam,¡± he whispered to Maria, forcing the air from his tortured lungs.


    He pressed his palms against the gritty floor. Another shotgun blast rang out. He could hear other guns firing just a little farther away.


    He forced his eyes open, just a crack against the swelling. In another lifetime, pain and fear had been distant forces, rubbing at the edges of his psyche like a scratchy shirt. Now they were a pyre, immolating his thoughts, burning away his senses. The universe was pain and fear.


    He stood, entering a space that was more hallucination that perception, a background of dark wisps swirling across thin lines of light, of throbbing gunfire felt as much as heard, against which his vibrant deities danced and leapt, beckoned and led. Still hunched against his pain, he stumbled a step, forcing breath into occluded lungs with wheezing, whistling sounds. Where and why were not considerations, only burning movement. A voice echoed in his ears, but he couldn¡¯t understand the words. He could barely hear the language of his own thoughts.


    Another step, then falling over a mound of debris, fragments of wood, plastic and stone digging into his arms. The world constricted into a red-tinged tunnel, and he forced himself up again. Purify.


    Someone was calling his name, but he ignored the hollow sound and followed the tunnel. It twisted and writhed around him like a great serpent, and he stumbled within its coils. Dimly, he perceived figures moving around him. Something grazed the top of his head as he ducked within his ever-shifting vision. The dancing gods laughed, and he felt his fear lifting as he joined them, his pain evaporating as he twisted and spun, half drunk with abandon.


    Shadows trailed after the gods, dark figures both more concrete and less real, mimicking their movements, as shadows do. He danced through the coils of the vision serpent, its body a path of future and past, a tracing and an anticipation. The gods spun toward him, jumped around him with grace, and he stumbled through his part, uncoordinated, late to their subliminal pulse. Some part of him understood, though, that they would forgive his clumsiness, as long as he didn¡¯t touch their shadows.


    Thunder and lightening roared around him, Chaak wielding his mighty axe. The blast echoed in his ears, oddly louder in reverberation. The lightning struck a shadow and spun it to the ground, rolling it to the feet of the god it was following.


    ***


    Attaboy spun back into cover after firing at the three men, the rough-edged concrete where a door had once been framed scratching at his shoulder. There were two shots left, at least that¡¯s what he assumed from the five-barreled monstrosity he was wielding. It took most of his strength to raise the thing to fire, and he wondered how such a poor design had ever come to exist as a tangible item. It probably didn¡¯t help that he was smaller and weaker than most. His fingers barely reached around the trigger.


    He was sure he had scored a direct hit at least once, or as direct a hit as one was likely to achieve with such a wide blast anyway. It was next to impossible to see though, and when he had peeked out from his shelter, there was no body he could find. Perhaps these attackers had augmented skin, like he would in a few weeks. Regardless, they seemed eager to avoid a shotgun to the face, and so the standoff continued.


    He knew it wouldn¡¯t be long until they rushed him though.


    Two shots left.


    They wanted him alive, or so Lilijoy seemed to think, the lack of return gunfire supporting her assertion. She was out there, somewhere, pinned down by gunfire, so he couldn¡¯t expect help from that quarter anytime soon. He couldn¡¯t run, or wouldn¡¯t anyway. Abandoning Mo, Maria and Anda wasn¡¯t an option he was prepared to consider. Even with his system assisting, he was terrified. Nothing in either life had prepared him for this.


    He spun out, and then back in without firing, just to get a glimpse of a figure diving for cover. Can¡¯t waste a shot, he thought. His arms were shaking, the muscles burning, but he didn¡¯t dare lower his weapon. Movement inside his room caught his attention.


    Just stay down, you idiot.


    It was Mo, somehow stirring, stumbling to his feet.


    What the hell does he think he¡¯s doing?


    The man looked to be in bad shape, sounded that way too, going by the painful wheeze of his breath.


    ¡°Get down!¡± Attaboy hissed. ¡°They¡¯ll shoot you!¡±


    Mo ignored him, and lurched into motion, weaving and stumbling across the floor, tripping and regaining his feet. His eyes were swollen shut, and Attaboy could only assume that the man had snapped somehow and was making a break for it. Unfortunately he headed, somewhat directly, in the opposite direction of any hypothetical safety. Attaboy was at a loss. If he tried to stop him, the larger man would likely bowl right into him, and that would be the end for all of them.


    ¡°Mo, stop!¡± he tried again, trying to insert the barrel of his gun between the man and the door into the other room. It was no good. Mo half tripped just before the barrel connected and caught himself in a spin that brought him past Attaboy¡¯s attempted intervention and into the room beyond.


    Oh shit. He¡¯s dead.


    Attaboy wouldn¡¯t call Mo a friend, not really. The man was too rough, too damaged. While his Atticus side appreciated him as a character, an almost elemental force of rudeness and irreverence, many days in close quarters had not created close bonds between them. But the pointless tragedy unfolding before him was still painful. At least before, Mo had had a small chance to get through this, as much as Attaboy had at any rate. Now¡­


    Attaboy watched in horror as an enemy soldier emerged from behind a pile of half crushed file metal file cabinets wielding a long knife of some kind. Keeping Mo between them, the man took a step forward and thrust the knife with one hand, already reaching with the other to keep his human shield on its feet. Time seemed to slow, as it does in the face of inevitability, the moment sprawling before the horrific conclusion, laying itself out proudly for future flashbacks.


    And then¡­ Mo dodged. Less a dodge really, than a coincidental move that just happened to maneuver his torso to a different space than the knife¡¯s path. Another man jumped out with the horizontal swing of a club, and Mo nodded, as if accepting his demise, just enough for the club to pass over his bald dome. The man with the knife attacked and missed again, and Mo began to make a sound, a gasping hitch that Attaboy belatedly realized was laughter. Swaying and lurching through the space, at times crouching and spinning, Mo danced through the enemy attacks, laughing all the while. To Attaboy¡¯s strained and watering eyes, Mo¡¯s body seemed almost illuminated, his movements tracing a subtle track through the swirling vapors in the dark. He imagined it must be some artifact of his system¡¯s infrared capabilities that made it look as if the man moved in a tunnel etched by his passage through time. He wasn¡¯t sure how to explain that the passage extended to where Mo had not yet been.


    The spectacle almost made him forget he had a role in this as well, and so bemused the attackers that one of them allowed just enough distance for Attaboy to remember what he was doing and take advantage of the opportunity. He fired directly into the man¡¯s side and dropped him, spinning to the floor.


    One shot left for two, make that four, opponents. That¡¯s not good math, he thought. I wish I¡¯d taken more guns. I wish I had a sword.


    Since he had none of those things he stayed where he was, waiting for a shot during Mo¡¯s surreal ballet with the remaining attacker, feeling guilty he couldn¡¯t help more. The problem was, there was at least one more opponent hiding somewhere out of his sight, and at least two more with guns defending the front of the building. About twenty feet away, the body of the man he had shot lay in a pool of blood, at least he thought it was that and not a particularly dark patch of shadow, and the club he had been using lay a few feet away where it had fallen. He eyed it as a future possibility; it would certainly be better that the piece of bent and rusty rebar that was his backup plan.


    Any initiative was taken from him when Mo dropped to the ground, just a split second before gunfire tore into the room.


    Guess they¡¯re getting impatient, he thought as he dodged back into cover, thankful that the construction company had overengineered their interior walls. Maybe capturing me has dropped a few notches in priority.


    He heard the footfalls just a moment too late to bring up his gun.


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 54: Whelm

    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing through Attaboy¡¯s feed. Mo¡¯s actions, and Attaboy¡¯s perceptions of them had her head spinning with implications and to a certain extent, denial. If it was only an artifact or utility of his system in play, then Mo should be dead. If it wasn¡¯t¡­


    She shook her head. Something was going on, some strangeness that would have made at least some sense if it were on the Inside.


    There are miracles in that cruel world still, she remembered Sarah writing in her letter. That phrase and another kept running through her thoughts, a little piece of Rule Two. Relatively deterministic probability fields.


    Relative to what? she wondered. ¡®Deterministic probability¡¯ was an oxymoron until you threw in ¡®relatively¡¯. It left the door open, just a crack, for the miraculous.


    She put her musing aside to focus. It wasn¡¯t easy to juggle so much sensory data, though she was able to put her Inside activities on the back burner until she caught up to Anda. On the Outside she was moving now, crouch-running along the foundation of the building, staying below the window openings, afraid that if she stayed in place it wouldn¡¯t take long for someone to flank her. The sniper she controlled was firing just enough to keep her opponents from leaning out a window and gunning her down, but that wouldn¡¯t help her get in.


    I guess it¡¯s time to see just how good a shot he is, she decided.


    With regret, she discarded the gas masks she had picked up earlier, then reversed course and headed back to the door at a full sprint, not even bothering to keep her head down. Doing her best to keep her footing over piles of debris, she pivoted and plunged through the doorway as the sniper sent bullets over her head with an impressive rate of fire. A single gunman was hit on the shoulder as he lunged into the entryway, already firing at her. Bullets flew over her from both directions as she rolled, and she felt thankful that Maria had spent inordinate amounts of time clearing the floors in this part of the building to occupy herself.


    Without her insects she was at a severe disadvantage against even a wounded opponent, and the man, despite being hit, had done a roll of his own to get into cover from the sniper''s fire. They leapt to their feet simultaneously, the barrel of his weapon came around on her and she pushed off from the floor, hurling herself into a front handspring.


    The goal of the acrobatics was to keep him from applying the kind of accuracy she had seen used to take down Anda months before. She could take a hit or two if she had to, but there were plenty of vulnerable spots where a bullet could injure or incapacitate her. She doubted even she would be able to make multiple precision shots against a tumbling opponent, assuming she could ever find a gun she could handle with ease.


    Then, Attaboy¡¯s feed turned into a jumble of static. She pushed that to the side ruthlessly and twisted in the air to avoid the man¡¯s front kick, still tracking the tip of his gun, which hadn¡¯t quite made it around in time. His boot caught her anyway, but she spun off of the blow and grabbed the hot gun barrel with one hand, dragging it toward the floor.


    He was fast, but his reaction was exactly what she had hoped, trying to rip the gun up and out of her grasp. That might have worked for him, if it was her other hand, but she had grabbed on with her prosthetic, and it wasn¡¯t letting go until she said so. Instead, she was able to swing up, using his effort as an assist, and catch him under the chin with one foot. The blow wasn¡¯t enough to do more than rock his head back slightly, but it accomplished her real objective, dislodging his gas mask. He began to bring the butt of the gun around to slam her away, her subjective sense of time providing her the luxury of planning in the midst of the movement. She hung in the air upside down across his body, her hand still latched on to his gun, and his move would change her momentum, whipping her back down.


    It was a tough decision, since her grip on the gun gave her a certain security, but in the end, she had bigger goals than not getting shot. She released the barrel and, grabbing his body armor with her other hand, completed a rotation that allowed her to get her prosthetic arm where it was needed. Her hand was only by his face for a moment, but it was enough time for her to release a small puff of airborne Tao System from her palm, directly into the gap between his mask and face.


    Now I just need to survive the next few seconds, she thought as she pushed herself away, aided by the butt of the gun colliding with her torso. The blow caught her in the ribs, and was hard enough to steal her breath and send her flying across the room. She had understood it was coming, had opened herself up to it to accomplish her goal, but it still stunned her, and would have hurt terrifically if she allowed herself to feel the pain. She hit the floor and slid, then rolled. She felt chips of cement bounce off her face from a missed shot before she made it behind a support pillar.


    The first floor of the building must have originally been subdivided by less durable materials, its bones hidden behind wood and drywall, but now it consisted of five large spaces dotted with a few load-bearing columns. The brief entrance hall connected to the largest room might have once had several sets of doors, but they were gone now. Lilijoy was just as glad, for she had room to run. A pile of junk in the corner had at least one of Anda¡¯s firearms hidden in it, a rather heavy pistol, if she remembered correctly. She wouldn¡¯t be able to get it in time for the current situation, but she would need it soon, she feared.


    She was relieved to hear the sounds of struggle from a room away. Attaboy¡¯s feed was gone, so she had feared the worst. From this distance, she was barely able to sense her system elements in Mo and Maria, enough to know they were alive but little more, since neither had a built in transmission system. She thought there were still at least three men in there with them.


    Get the gun, or go straight in?


    She would be an easy target for the soldier she had just tangled with if she tried to get the gun, so she decided to dodge to another pillar, and then make a break for the next room. The soldier ran after her, firing several times, hitting her once in the back before stopping, probably to reload she figured. Getting shot, again, was a very unpleasant sensation; she could feel the shock wave expand through her body, though thankfully her internal organs held up well this time. Another broken rib was a small price to pay, since she didn¡¯t need to feel the pain. She just hoped she didn¡¯t run out of ribs.


    Well, I know where my bone bugs are going next, she decided.


    She made it to the next room without any more gunfire from behind. Unfortunately, despite being clever enough to roll as she came through the doorway, she was met with bullets from the front. The impacts on thigh and shoulder would leave one hell of a bruise, and she gave thanks that the weapons being employed against her were clearly underpowered, whether from Inside quirkiness or some desire for noise suppression she couldn¡¯t guess. Even so, she could feel a trickle of blood running down her leg, where the augmented skin had broken from the impact.


    Beyond the room she could see glimpses of Mo and another soldier fighting, but no sign of Attaboy. Blood streamed down Mo''s body from a dozen cuts, but he was still on his feet somehow, no longer laughing but with a blissful smile on his swollen features. He held a club he must have picked up somewhere loosely in one hand. She couldn¡¯t imagine why they hadn¡¯t already shot him.


    Never stopping her movement, she darted across the room, trying to come up with any kind of strategy. Gunfire followed her, surprisingly inaccurate, until she noticed that the soldier with the gun was wounded, his right arm a bloody mess dangling by his side. That made the situation more understandable; if he was firing with his off hand only, he might have been more reluctant to risk hitting his fellow soldiers by accident.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Spurred on by the insight, she continued her sprint and made it through the doorway. The soldier attacking Mo tried to kick her as she dashed past, but she ignored him. Beyond, she could see yet another soldier with Attaboy¡¯s still form draped over his shoulder in the process of pushing open the slab covering their back entrance. The man looked back at her, his face invisible behind the gas mask, and then forced his way out, already beginning to run. Attaboy¡¯s dangling legs were nearly caught as the slab closed, and the whole image reminded her painfully of the time, long ago, when Mooster carried him away.


    Sorry I can¡¯t stay and help, Mo, she thought. I hope you make it.


    Even as she pushed through the door in pursuit, she found the first signs of Anda¡¯s presence on the Inside. She felt fortunate, perhaps even a little smug, that she had been clever enough to pinpoint his location, for it lay in a direction she would have been unlikely to pursue otherwise. That feeling lasted just until she reached the place he had been, a line of disturbed landscape that stretched in either direction as far as contour would permit her to see. It was a residue of manifestation, externalized thoughts left in the wake of his passing already slumping and dissolving back into the intangible.


    It was also a problem, for it indicated that Anda was on the move. That itself didn¡¯t bother her; she was confident that she could catch him quickly. No, the problem was in the direction, which, as best she could tell from the state of the rough shapes forming the trail, pointed directly to the massive, ongoing battle between the Regional Lord, the Hongse Clan, and probably the Maasai Clan as well.


    She was sure it was no coincidence, though what combination of delusion and influence from the revenants was steering Anda toward such an unfortunate conflict was not clear to her. Sighing, she changed course to run along the piles of ashy dirt, noting the few details still discernible, mounds that might have been faces, rippling lines like flattened grass.


    Most of her attention was still on the Outside, where she was rapidly losing ground to the man carrying Attaboy, his burden a smaller impediment than her short legs. She had a solution to that though. She was close enough to the assault craft to set it into motion. Additionally, her connection to her insects reestablished itself.


    Immediately, she became aware of a new problem. A transport vehicle, a large blocky thing of gray facets was making its way from the south. While she was relieved it was on the opposite side from her and the man carrying Attaboy, she now had to worry about Nykka.


    This is just too much, she thought. All I want is my forest, or a nice garden somewhere. She felt something roll down her cheek, realized it was a tear, and was struck with an almost overwhelming urge to plop down in the middle of the former street and just¡­ something. Cry maybe? Curl up into a little ball and make it all go away. Signals and senses were besieging her from everywhere, her insects, the Inside, and her system could only do so much, she could only do so much to handle the overwhelming flood.


    She turned her snipers loose on the transport and crossed her fingers.


    She sent the assault craft tearing after the soldier with Attaboy.


    She pushed her feet through the degraded soil of the Rotted Lands.


    When does it end? she wondered. It was an emotion, more than a literal thought. She knew when it ended, for most useful definitions of the word. It ended when things stopped moving. A heart, her feet, this fight, this journey. In a dark way, to wish for any end was to wish for all of them. That was corruption talking though, brought to the fore by her fatigue, by a brain and system working to the edge of capacity.


    So in two worlds, her feet moved, and her heart beat.


    The transport proved to be remarkable permeable, despite its looks.


    The soldier carrying Attaboy was too focused to dodge and too slow to avoid being struck from behind. Attaboy¡¯s limp form rolled and flopped onto the ground.


    And on the Inside, she saw¡­ Anda?


    It had to be Anda, this form at the end of the trail. Who else could it be? With each step she could see better and understand less. Land and figure were indistinct in a constant process of manifestation and shedding. Body parts grew and fell to ash as the figure moved, its progress derived not from steps as much as growth, a pulsing crawl, a bodily peristalsis of limbs and heads and torsos swelling forward to occupy new space, only to whither and fall away moments later as new growth surpassed them.


    As she grew closer, she could see Anda¡¯s features, as well as those of others she did not recognize, could see faces with mouths and eyes carrying expressions of pain, joy and horror emerge into fullness only to slough away in moments.


    Well, that explains why he isn¡¯t replying. I wonder how aware he is. I wonder who¡¯s steering?


    She couldn¡¯t help feeling that she was seeing a metaphor made flesh, that from some perspective this was human society in amalgamation, seeking comfort or conflict, growing blindly together toward a perilous horizon. Whatever its goals, she had to stop it.


    Fear and revulsion set aside, she ran ahead, into its path and stood, hands in front to warn and ward.


    ¡°Anda!¡± she cried, a voice alone in the wilderness.


    ***


    Anda, he thought, or perhaps heard. There was a weight to those syllables, a certain attachment.


    Oh yes, he remembered. That¡¯s me. So many connections to that handle. I wonder if it can bear the weight.


    He pulled on it, his scattered thoughts assembling, an awakening of sorts. Anda Kukata.


    A wave of confusion swept across him, where everything felt foreign. Perhaps that wasn¡¯t him after all?


    Then who am I? he wondered. I¡¯m missing something. Missing.


    Etalaki.


    His thoughts, such as they were, were disrupted, stopped in their tracks with abrupt force. For a moment, he lost cohesion but the handle, the name, remained. He pulled on it once again and self-assembled.


    What was that? he asked. Something had stopped him, had stopped his thoughts from cycling. He had a moment of stillness, just enough to wonder where he was. It was a new question, and he felt he should know the answer. That he didn¡¯t was cause for concern, and he cast about for a resolution.


    It was, perhaps, his growing panic that saved him, for as his desperation increased, so did a certain signal, almost a knocking, that attracted his attention. He focused on it with all his will, blocking out a growing chorus of clamoring and competing thoughts. The thread of information, when he finally grasped it, had tangibility, familiarity, and he followed it, pulling himself along. It lead to other threads, and then a dense net of information, data woven together, a web of meaning that triggered concepts and then memories.


    He had found his body. Its signals were muted, almost entirely blocked, but a moment¡¯s recollection told him why, reminded him where he truly was.


    I¡¯m Inside.


    It came in a rush then, the past few hours as he awoke fully. He had lured the Etalaki in, only to find he had taken on more than he could handle. Even now, they screamed and laughed and cried, a deafening choir within his thoughts. He could feel the danger of losing himself rising, and he realized that he had been here before, had recovered himself several times before, only to be overwhelmed and go back under.


    Not this time, he vowed. He began singing, a children¡¯s song meant to bring the rain, and the voices quieted, some joining him. While he sang, he took in his surroundings, or lack of them. He was cut off from his senses, Inside and Outside, with only the faint signals from his body to anchor him against the presence of the Etalaki. Wishing he could split his mind like Lilijoy, he tried over and over to connect to something, anything, outside of himself, to no avail. The Etalaki had stolen his senses somehow.


    Give me back my eyes, he sang, that I may guide you to green grasses. Give back my nose, so I may follow the scent of the strangler fig, and my ears to find the calls of en-daritiki. Let me lead you forth. Let me bring you home.


    The voices stilled, and he repeated his impromptu verse again. On the third time, a voice joined him, and then another. Other voices complained and shrieked in the background, but he ignored them and focused on his song, on the emotions of homecoming and return. He found himself weeping as he sang, as his own repressed longing welled up, emotions he thought he had left behind with his people. The voices singing with him began to cry out as well, and the emotion swept through him, swept through them. He felt his chest hitch, felt a tear run down his face, and with a burst of effort, he pushed his way back to his body, where the first sound he heard was his own voice, and the first sight was a smooth black wall directly in front of him.


    ¡°Hello?¡± he called out.


    The wall slumped down, returning to the soil and revealing Lilijoy on the other side.


    ¡°Thank goodness,¡± she said. ¡°Welcome back.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 55: Beneath

    ¡°It means fiend,¡± Mo said. ¡°I picked it up from the gang I hung out with after...¡± he hesitated, ¡°after my parents died. You know the story there. Anyway, we were living up north, me and a bunch of Chinese guys hung out to dry when Samgor and Sinaloa had their little falling out. It¡¯s what they kept calling the pictures on the walls at the place we were living, some old temple where the jungle used to be.¡±


    Lilijoy listened while Mo and Maria talked, not exactly eavesdropping, since they were all crammed into the assault vehicle on their way to... nowhere in particular. Hopefully they would think of something, but since there was no way to know if they were being tracked from above, the plan was to keep moving.


    ¡°What was so bad about Tony? I think it¡¯s a very nice name,¡± Maria asked while she sprayed another of his wounds. The air filtration in the craft was working overtime to remove the fumes, but Lilijoy could still feel the inside of her nose growing numb from the chemicals. At least her system had finished purging what was left of the capsaicin gas.


    She allowed Mo and Maria¡¯s voices to fade into the background and thought about what to do next. It had taken them far too long to get moving after the last of the attackers fled. She had dragged Attaboy, still stunned, into the assault vehicle, retrieved a mask for Maria, and with her help, been able to get the others. It had been a near thing, and she was still reeling, still attempting to understand how she could have been so confident. If the enemy had even one additional squad, or even better weapons, Nykka and Attaboy would have been captured, the rest of them likely killed.


    Anda would never have had a chance. Even now he was, somewhat voluntarily, stuck on the Inside. Neither of them had any idea what would happen if he logged out, due to the odd circumstances. In all likelihood, the Maasai revenants, or the Etalaki, as she had learned to call them, would have free run of his avatar. Anda was less concerned about that than what they might do if they felt abandoned.


    ¡°They¡¯re contained at the moment,¡± he had rationalized. ¡°I don¡¯t think that would last for long at all if I logged out. At best they would return to what they were doing before.¡±


    ¡°And that was what, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Trying to make themselves real, I think. To the extent there was any thought at all, they were, are, I guess, looking for connection. Ultimately, they were searching for what they had when they were embodied on the Outside.¡±


    ¡°Seems like they got the opposite.¡±


    ¡°Yes. That happens a lot in life.¡± Anda hadn¡¯t elaborated, but the look on his face, his now entirely non-orc, human face told her plenty. It had been a bit of a surprise for both of them, when Lilijoy realized Anda¡¯s features were his own again. Neither of them knew why, but it seemed likely that the Etalaki had somehow reset his avatar. Either that, or the need for his half-orc form had run its course.


    Regardless, it was clear that Anda¡¯s trial, quest, or whatever it was, had yet to finish.


    ¡°Well, that sucked,¡± Nykka said from behind her, stirring for the first time. ¡°I guess we made it, somehow?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. ¡°It was a close call. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Nykka sighed. ¡°Yeah. Well.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m still out of it. Did we find out who those guy were?¡±


    ¡°Mercenaries. Probably hired by Walden? They wanted you and Attaboy.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Explains the electric shock thing. Quimea always told me that was most systems¡¯ Achilles heel. He¡¯s been working forever to harden Suenos.¡±


    ¡°Attaboy is still out. He got tagged about thirty minutes ago.¡±


    ¡°Guess your system isn¡¯t all-powerful either, huh?¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how Stage Two would react to a strong current, but she wasn¡¯t in a hurry to find out. ¡°Sure seems that way. Nice sword by the way.¡±


    Nykka¡¯s looked around for the weapon in momentary panic, before finding it at her feet. ¡°Saw that, did you?¡± She kicked the hilt up to her hand. ¡°I try to keep what it can do a secret, just so you know.¡±


    ¡°Makes for a hell of a surprise. I thought you were in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Nah.¡± Nykka tilted her head, considering. ¡°Or yeah. But only because of that zapper.¡±


    ¡°Is that what those are called?¡±


    Nykka shrugged. ¡°Seems as good a name as any. I¡¯ve never come across that particular variant. The ones I¡¯ve trained against were different. Way easier to avoid, for one.¡± She peered out the window. ¡°Where are we headed?¡±


    ¡°Nowhere. Just stalling.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. You really think they¡¯d come back for more?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. If Anda weren¡¯t stuck Inside, I might feel more confident.¡±


    Nykka wasn¡¯t up on the whole Etalaki situation, so Lilijoy filled her in.


    ¡°That¡¯s crazy,¡± she said, when Lilijoy had finished explaining. Fiddling with her sword, she went on. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you. Quimea visited me on the Inside. He wanted you to know that he can find me in there whenever he wants. At least, that''s what I extrapolated from him telling me a random anecdote from childhood.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a wave of fatigue pass through her. ¡°Great. Good to know,¡± she replied. ¡°Do you think he could be behind this?¡±


    Nykka grimaced. ¡°He¡¯s behind everything he isn¡¯t in front of. Once you have his attention, the guessing never stops. So, yes, this could have been him rather than Walden. Or it could have been him manipulating Walden. They are Sinaloa¡¯s dearest enemies, after all. He¡¯s been playing them like a fiddle for over a century.¡±


    Lilijoy tucked that bit of information away. Her fondest wish was never to need to learn more about Corp politics than the absolute minimum, but there was no avoiding it. ¡°How did he find you?¡± she asked. ¡°I thought you had hidden from Sinaloa on the Inside too.¡±


    ¡°I wish I knew. The fact is, he¡¯s probably more dangerous on the Inside. He¡¯s from the first generation, and they¡¯ve had over a century to learn how things work. He¡¯s been actively experimenting the entire time, gathering resources. He was the one, you know, who cracked the whole alchemy thing.¡±


    Lilijoy, in fact, did not know that. ¡°He figured out how to use the Inside to build things Outside?¡±


    ¡°Yup. To hear him talk about it, he single-handedly saved humanity from reverting to savagery. Of course, other clans have their own heroes, their own versions of those early times. My guess is that more than one of them figured it out. Otherwise, Sinaloa would be ruling the world.¡±


    Lilijoy couldn¡¯t help but be struck by how levelheaded Nykka was. She had a sense of perspective, a detachment about her background that was admirable.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been with him since you were a child. How is it that you seem so¡­ normal?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The key word there is ¡®seem¡¯.¡± Nykka bit her lip. ¡°It¡¯s what humans do, you know. We seem. We reflect the signals others send to us, some better than others. We are social beings, and the essence of who we are is absorbed and then retransmitted. Quimea thinks of individuals as little more than conduits, circuits in a vast machine processing¡­ something.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Lilijoy let that thought roll around in her head for a moment. It was disturbing, on a certain level, how parallel the idea was to what she had been considering since reading Sarah¡¯s letter. The main issue she had with the notion of a¡­ not collective consciousness, exactly, but some kind of emergent mental entity riding on millions of brains, was how irrational large-scale human behavior seemed to be, how self-sabotaging, even suicidal it was.


    Uncontrolled, sprawling growth is hardly the signature of rationality. It¡¯s the slime mold problem again. Except, that¡¯s not what we have now, is it. How convenient to have an external entity to control, shape and prune the growth.


    The unsettling thought that Guardian could be, in essence, a tool generated purposefully for self-control made a little chill run down her spine.


    What was it that shard-Emily said?


    She replayed the words from her memory.


    ¡°...Dad stumbled on something by accident when he was researching using rare earth elements as resource bottlenecks. Initially, he was most interested in the idea of using them to build self replicators that couldn''t run away, but he discovered that the right configuration made for excellent room-temperature quantum processors, and additionally they had an inherent structural hierarchy which made programming them for various tasks relatively simple. It reminded him of the structural hierarchies in the brain, and he worked with Mom to build them into a neural interface. She told me later that they were both nervous about how well it worked, that it felt like they were cheating somehow, borrowing the computational properties of reality itself.¡±


    Serendipity is an interesting thing, she mused. ¡®¡°A tree cannot find out, as it were, how to blossom, until comes blossom-time. A social growth cannot find out the use of steam engines, until comes steam-engine-time.¡± What time is it now, social growth?


    She looked back at Nykka, watched her caress the hilt of her sword with a distant look in her eyes. ¡°How does it work?¡± she asked, pointing at the blade.


    Nykka gave a little start. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to talk about it in front of the others. It¡¯s just another example of sufficiently advanced technology. It¡¯s a one of a kind Quimea made for me.¡±


    Lilijoy could respect that, but she hoped Nykka would let her study the weapon at some point. She thought it must be made of micro, or nanomachines. If she could duplicate them¡­ it would take a lot of work, but she could imagine amazing possibilities for mobile metallic structures. She glanced over at the EBO box, which thankfully had been stored in the assault craft.


    I really need to get that working, she thought. All I need is the right power source.


    ¡°You had it pretty good, in some ways,¡± she said. ¡°Why leave?¡±


    She knew Nykka¡¯s professed reason, to free herself from Doctor Quimea¡¯s control, to replace her system, or at least find a workaround for the fact that it would be degrading. She was still struggling to trust it, however, and every time she was reminded of Doctor Quimea¡¯s penchant for plotting, for weaving patient webs that stretched over lifetimes, she felt less comfortable still. She felt bad for this, because Nykka hadn¡¯t given her a single reason to be mistrustful. If anything, she had proved herself several times over. And yet.


    ¡°I get it,¡± Nykka said. ¡°I can imagine what this looks like from your perspective. I¡¯m sure you remember what I said when we first met. Well, the first time we talked anyway. He makes people doubt everything. Reality itself. He¡¯s been studying how to get inside peoples heads both literally and figuratively since before the Rise.¡±


    Lilijoy could only nod.


    ¡°The thing is,¡± Nykka continued, ¡°I¡¯m terrified. I¡¯m crushed with doubt.¡± Her voice was matter of fact, but Lilijoy could see her vital signs and could tell that Nykka¡¯s system was going full out to help modulate her emotions. There was a level of control missing that was usually present, which Lilijoy thought might be due to the electric shock she had received not long before. ¡°If you can¡¯t help me, I...¡±


    She stopped speaking for a moment, and Lilijoy saw just a hint of struggle around her white eyes.


    ¡°I think I can help you,¡± she said, ¡°but not by giving you my system.¡±


    Nykka¡¯s shoulders stiffened. ¡°How?¡± she squeezed out.


    ¡°I can make more Suenos system. I¡¯m sure of it. Hopefully enough so that you won¡¯t be dependent on me,¡± she rushed to say, before Nykka thought she would just be trading manacles for handcuffs. ¡°Maybe I can even make it more stable, fix it.¡±


    Nykka looked down. ¡°I can accept that.¡± She looked back up. ¡°I¡¯m not a good person, you know.¡±


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure how to reply to that. Platitudes didn¡¯t seem in order. ¡°Why would you be?¡± was what she finally settled on.


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡¯m a true product of Sinaloa, of the Doctor. I ¡®saved¡¯ Attaboy because I saw a remote chance his system could help me. Well, that¡¯s why I let him live anyway. I saved him to avoid becoming obsolete, to keep what was in his head away from the Doctor.¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± Nykka¡¯s candor unsettled her, reminded her a bit of Quimea, who used the truth as a weapon.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m tired, alright? But I like you. God help me, I even like Attaboy. When you took us down in Averdale, I saw a possibility that I hadn¡¯t seen before. I already knew that Doctor Quimea wasn¡¯t infallible, but you did something he had never anticipated. And there were other¡­ things, that happened. I¡¯d already taught myself to think in a new way, and it put me over the edge.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, think in a new way?¡± Lilijoy asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    Lilijoy made a point of looking around the dark interior of the assault vehicle.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Nykka said. ¡°It¡¯s not like there¡¯s anything else going on. The short version is that someone within Sinaloa sent me a document. It wasn¡¯t much, just a list of cognitive biases. You know what those are, right?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded, smiling inwardly.


    ¡°All it did was suggest I tailor my own system to filter and eliminate them, to compensate for my biology. That was way harder than it sounds, by the way. But, I fooled around with it, more out of boredom than anything. Once I did what I could, I started seeing how influenced I had been in a hundred subtle ways. I began to notice the¡­ machinery behind the scenery.¡±


    ¡°That sounds a lot like something from Renaissance.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I realized that at some point. I don¡¯t know much about that, except it doesn¡¯t seem like they¡­ do much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised.¡± She left it there, but couldn¡¯t help wondering exactly what it was that Renaissance did. That they were doing something was not in doubt; Nykka¡¯s story attested to that. It didn¡¯t help that Anda was so reticent to talk. ¡°You should talk to Anda. He¡¯s pretty high up in their organization.¡±


    Nykka looked surprised. ¡°That¡¯s a coincidence.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s said that most of the people in Renaissance don¡¯t know they¡¯re members. Honestly, if you can pry out of him what he actually does, I¡¯d love to know.¡±


    After that, Nykka decided to sleep a bit, tired from being knocked out, and Lilijoy focused her attention on the Inside. Anda was still working on how to relate to the Etalaki, which limited his and her mobility substantially. With more confidence in his ability to keep them contained, she would have considered bringing him to her Trial Space, but between that and the fact that she hadn¡¯t ever brought another Outsider there, she couldn¡¯t consider it an option.


    The reason for her growing insecurity was the raging combat coming ever closer. It was no longer distant rumbles and flares of light. No, now the cries of the human combatants were audible, and several times great gusts of hot wind had blown the ashes of the Rotted Lands into dust devils that spun and cavorted on all sides. There had even been a shower of hot pebbles that looked suspiciously as if they had started life as lava, forming small craters in the soft earth for as far as the eye could see.


    The difficulty was that the Etalaki had a strong opinion about the direction they wished to go, answering Lilijoy¡¯s earlier question about who had been steering when Anda was in abomination form. When Anda tried to move back into the Rotted Lands they would become agitated, even aggressive in their protests.


    She passed a few moments going over notifications accumulated during her earlier experimentation with earth magic meta-spells. Evidently she had stumbled on a new skill, Formations and Arrays, and the Inside had decided she was a Natural Initiate. She had wondered if she was doing something that already existed, and now she knew. Sort of. It was another question to ask Professor Anaskafius, if she ever got back to the Academy.


    Out of curiosity, she tried to raise her Barrier spell up to Apprentice, and was pleased to see that she could. On the heels of that success, she also found she could bring the spell class Shape up a level too. By the time she was done, she only had three free points left, but since that was what she had been saving them for, she didn¡¯t feel too bad. There weren¡¯t enough left over, though, to raise the Clade or Source, since those were already higher.


    I can make quite a volume of wall now, she thought. Over a thousand cubic feet, unless there are diminishing returns somewhere along the line. But since I can multitask and cast the spell more than once, I could build a small fort. Probably couldn¡¯t hold it very long though. And there¡¯s the whole roof problem.


    Such musings kept her occupied for several seconds, until a plume of molten rock far bigger than any hypothetical fort lit the sky on fire. The explosion was located less than a kilometer away, and already Lilijoy could feel the ground shaking.


    Was that an actual volcano? she wondered briefly. I don¡¯t remember seeing any¡­


    She took a split second to check her internet memory.


    ¡°Hey Anda,¡± she said. ¡°What do you think would happen if you died?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± he replied. ¡°Hopefully the Etalaki wouldn¡¯t be freed to start all over again. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Because I think the Boiling Plains is a supervolcano. And I think it¡¯s erupting.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 56: Dawning

    ¡°Because I think the Boiling Plains is a supervolcano. And I think it¡¯s erupting.¡±


    As she spoke, the column of lava towered in the sky, defying gravity. A breeze tugged at her hair as the air from miles around was pulled into a fiery vortex whipping around the vast pillar, the night obliterated by its blaze. It hung there, suspended for what seemed eternity, before the top began to bend, to arc over the cratered landscape with a kind of relentless patience, as if nodding, as if¡­


    It was at that point that Lilijoy put it together.


    Oh crap.


    ¡°Anda, I think that¡¯s the Regional Lord!¡± she yelled over a suddenly noisy environment. Standing at the very edge of the Rotted Lands as they were, they couldn¡¯t see the ground forces involved in the combat, but Lilijoy was pretty sure they weren¡¯t enjoying life at the moment, that is, if any of them were still alive. As if to punctuate her thought, a massive eruption of steam and gas roared forth, countless explosions chained together that sent boulders hurtling, meteors in reverse as far as she could see.


    Above it all the vast neck of the Wyrm twisted and swayed, internal heat outlining huge, craggy scales in orange and yellow in a pattern like a desiccated riverbed.


    I guess I should have known when I saw the word ¡®Spawn¡¯ in it¡¯s description. Looks like baby¡¯s all grown up now.


    The air was growing thick with ash and fumes as great clouds rolled forth from a thousand new fissures and the ground rumbled in sympathy with a great call from the enormous beast. The barely visible forms of people fleeing, running into the Rotted Land, became apparent here and there. It appeared that the battle was not going well for the clans. Through it all, Anda stood, his eyes fixed on the Regional Lord, a look of palpable longing on his face.


    Then he began to walk.


    ¡°Um, Anda,¡± she began, hurrying after him. ¡°Maybe the other direction would be better?¡±


    He stumbled as the earth quaked and shook beneath their feet. ¡°No. They want to go there. All of them.¡±


    A flaming boulder the size of a car flew over their heads as they moved onto the stony ground that marked the end of the Rotted Lands.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ nice? But you aren¡¯t going to make it much farther without being crushed, burned or boiled!¡± she yelled over the tumult of hisses, cracks and rumbles. ¡°Never mind the Regional Lord, this whole place is going to blow.¡±


    ¡°They want to return to the crater, is what they keep saying,¡± Anda said in a calm voice, jumping over a widening fissure. ¡°It¡¯s my people¡¯s origin myth. But I think they might be right.¡±


    As was often the case on the Inside, it was hard for Lilijoy to wrap her head around the stakes involved. There was a clarity Outside, life and death, permanent consequences. The repercussions for Inside decisions were murky, the consequences real, but often undefined. Even if Anda lost control of the Etalaki and they took over a new section of the boiling plains, it wasn¡¯t like anyone would be moving into the area anytime soon.


    It¡¯s up to him anyway, I guess, she decided. ¡°Hey Anda!¡± she called. ¡°If you¡¯re set on getting to the giant lava dragon thing in a hurry, I have an idea.¡±


    He looked at her and nodded.


    She cast her barrier spell, wondering if she would ever use it for its intended purpose. Her ¡®wall¡¯ sprung from the quaking, heaving land, an expanse of flat cutting across steam and fire. Even as it emerged it cracked and crumbled, beset by the tremors and small eruptions. That was fine by her though. The effort was less for purposes of mobility and more a message to a certain titan lighting the sky with its fiery presence.


    Nonetheless, Anda ran out onto the path she had created, his long legs leaping over the constantly fracturing surface. Far above, Lilijoy saw the head of the Regional Lord turn toward them. She couldn¡¯t help but give a saucy wave.


    But it was Anda who captured its attention, the lone figure exposed on a flat plain that stretched for hundreds of meters. Slowly at first, the head began to plunge, a fiery comet with a tail of red and black falling out of the predawn sky. Despite herself, Lilijoy took a step back, head craned to follow the coming cataclysm.


    Well, Anda, she thought, I guess the Etalaki are getting what they want.


    With a roar that crushed Anda to the ground, the Regional Lord opened its mouth and fell upon him, engulfing him as it plunged into the earth. She had just a moment to register that it was truly passing through the earth, without the explosive impact she had expected, before a shockwave of superheated air picked her up and hurtled her body across the waste.


    <hr>


    You have died!


    Death Counter: 5


    <hr>


    She opened her eyes on the Outside. Her need for sleep was gone, but that didn¡¯t mean her eyes didn¡¯t feel fatigue, and she had taken the opportunity of the dark and hushed atmosphere to rest her body while focusing on the Inside events.


    Now that she was riding the white, she thought it might be nice to be all in one place. Even if that place was a dark assault craft on its way to nowhere. She didn¡¯t log out as much as thoroughly ignore.


    <Anda?> she sent, fingers crossed.


    <That was a wild ride, wasn¡¯t it?> he replied.


    Her feeling of relief was probably unnecessary, but powerful anyway.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± was the next thing she heard, now in his voice, quickly followed by, ¡°I really hope there¡¯s somewhere to go the bathroom.¡±


    ¡°Welcome back!¡± she called.


    Nykka stirred and grumbled. Maria and Attaboy stayed fast asleep, but Mo sat up a bit. ¡°Looks like sleeping beauty didn¡¯t need a kiss,¡± he said, his voice hoarse. ¡°Could have used some help back there, you know.¡±


    Anda rubbed his eyes, still acclimating, and looked over at Mo. ¡°It does appear that way,¡± he said, taking in the man¡¯s injuries.


    They pulled over for a minute so that Anda, and as it turned out, almost everyone else could take turns relieving themselves. Then they were on the move again.


    ¡°So, wandering around to avoid being pinned down again doesn¡¯t seem like a good long term strategy,¡± Anda said. ¡°Do we know how they found us?¡±


    Nykka shook her head. ¡°They had something in the air with good surveillance. I suppose they could have been up there for a while, looking for us.¡±


    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t tell them shit,¡± said Mo. ¡°Nah, they smelled us out.¡±


    Lilijoy turned that over in her mind. Would her chemical sensing abilities been up to the task? She couldn¡¯t be sure, but it sounded plausible.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably some combination,¡± she said. ¡°But how they did it initially doesn¡¯t matter so much now. The problem is that they could be actively tracking us, and there¡¯s not much we can do about it.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°If these were mercs, they probably won¡¯t have a whole ¡®nother team ready to go,¡± Mo said. ¡°We¡¯re probably good for a bit.¡±


    Anda looked concerned. ¡°We can¡¯t rule out escalation. If Walden sent them, and they know where we are, they could decide to bring their own forces. We wouldn¡¯t stand much of a chance against their upper echelon.¡±


    ¡°As long as they don¡¯t have gas masks...¡± Lilijoy began. She stopped when she saw Anda shake his head.


    ¡°Your system, our system I guess, is a frightening trump card, but I¡¯m very reluctant to engage with a higher Rank. By the time you infiltrated their bodies, they could have killed us all. If they are forewarned¡­ well, I think that assuming you will always be able to subvert your opponent could be a dangerous notion.¡±


    Nykka nodded. ¡°There¡¯s a huge gap between the fighting abilities of Rank Seven and Rank Eight. Bigger than between any other Ranks, maybe even bigger than between the Ranked and the unaugmented. A good Rank Eight could kill us all in seconds.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± was all Lilijoy could say, unhappy to learn that the situation was possibly worse than she had thought.


    ¡°The odds of that coming to pass are slim,¡± Anda added, seeing her reaction.


    ¡°Unless it¡¯s personal. Better hope the kid that tough guy here beat up wasn¡¯t too well connected.¡± Mo added, gesturing to Attaboy, the only member of their little group still to stir.


    ¡°Thanks for that, Mo,¡± Lilijoy replied. ¡°Not to change the subject, but how did you manage to survive back there?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering that myself,¡± Nykka added.


    Mo shifted uncomfortably.


    ¡°It was his gods who saved him,¡± Maria said.


    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, then she continued. ¡°They saved me and probably you too,¡± she said, pointing at Anda. Then she looked at Lilijoy. She didn¡¯t say anything, but Lilijoy could see hurt in her eyes, an unspoken question.


    Lilijoy realized that she had literally leapt over Maria pursuing Attaboy¡¯s captor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Maria...¡± she started.


    ¡°We¡¯re all fine, and that¡¯s what matters,¡± Mo broke in. ¡°I had some weird shit going down in my head. I don¡¯t know what it was, I don¡¯t know what it means, and frankly, I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Seeing their expressions he added, ¡°...now.¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± said Anda. ¡°I¡¯m going to be sorting through what happened to me for years. So let''s get back to our current circumstance. I let Kurtz know we¡¯ve held up our end of the bargain just a few hours ago. He said we can do a trade through Sothechrist¡¯s within the week.¡±


    ¡°So what, we drive in circles for a week? That sounds fun,¡± said Nykka.


    ¡°We have about eight hours of power left, so no,¡± Anda replied. ¡°The problem seems to be, as long as we stay in here we can be tracked from above, but if we move on foot we can be tracked chemically or by smell.¡±


    ¡°We could try to outrun them,¡± Nykka suggested. ¡°It¡¯s got to be an airship of some kind, big enough to drop gas canisters.¡±


    ¡°Probably better to put some space between us and the city, too,¡± Mo added.


    Anda shook his head. ¡°What¡¯s restraining Walden is the Corp rules. If we go too far, we may find ourselves in much worse trouble.¡±


    ¡°I just thought of another problem,¡± said Lilijoy. It had been niggling away at the back of her mind. ¡°That gas had nanomachines in it. I destroyed them and only kept a few to analyze, but Mo and Maria probably have tons in them.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Mo exclaimed. ¡°Like I don¡¯t have enough to worry about.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll get them out of both of you,¡± Lilijoy reassured him. ¡°I just wish I knew what they did.¡±


    ¡°Trackers, would be my guess,¡± Anda said. ¡°Harmful nanotech is very rare, and very expensive. Not something you would casually throw away in a gas attack.¡±


    At that point, Attaboy awoke. ¡°Where am I?¡± he asked.


    Nykka prodded him with her toe. ¡°Finally pulled it together, eh? We¡¯re in the assault vehicle, genius.¡±


    He batted her foot away and sat up. ¡°Oh, hi, everyone,¡± he said, rubbing his head with one hand. ¡°Sorry for sleeping in. I guess we beat the bad guys?¡±


    They brought him up to speed.


    He shook his head at their predicament, then turned to Mo.


    ¡°Uh uh,¡± Mo said, before Attaboy could open his mouth. ¡°Not talking about it.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, looking abashed for about a millisecond. ¡°But you did something impossible. I can¡¯t let that go. I need to understand.¡±


    Mo narrowed his eyes. ¡°You. Need to understand.¡±


    Attaboy looked back at him.


    Oh no. I know that expression.


    Maria broke in, as she had before. ¡°It was his gods. They gave him strength and showed him what was to come.¡±


    ¡°Gods,¡± Attaboy repeated. ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Believe what you want,¡± Mo said. ¡°I sure as hell don¡¯t know.¡±


    Attaboy looked at Lilijoy, and she was alarmed to see panic in his eyes. ¡°None of this is real, is it?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t sure how to reply, perhaps because his question wasn¡¯t that far off from her own thoughts at times. To her surprise Nykka answered him.


    ¡°Do you exist?¡±


    Attaboy¡¯s eyes darted over to hers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am," he said.


    ¡°Pfft. Get over yourself. You exist, that¡¯s what matters. The rest is just details. Inside, Outside, it¡¯s all just senses. You¡¯re panicking because you don¡¯t know what any of it means. Well, guess what, it means whatever the hell you want it to. There is no external meaning. What does it matter if you¡¯re hallucinating, or a brain in a vat, or a butterfly? It¡¯s all input to process.¡±


    She turned to Mo. ¡°I get why you don¡¯t want to talk about it. Losing your mind is some scary shit. Been there done that. But now I have to agree with Attaboy. Whatever is going on inside of you is starting to come out to play with the rest of us. Good thing too, because without you, we wouldn¡¯t all be here, stuck in this stupid car.¡±


    There was a brief silence when she finished.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Mo at last. ¡°You all know I hallucinate random Mayan gods. Sometimes they warn me when things are about to happen, but never soon enough to do anything about it. Until today anyway. Before that, I figured it was just my own intuition or some shit, you know, repackaged. Tonight, Ixtlab, who¡¯s one scary...¡± he glanced toward Maria, ¡°...lady, talked to me directly. She told me I could be her priest, thanks but no thanks, said my ¡®walls were thin¡¯, said that madness was required to approach the divine. So¡­ feeling pretty good about that, on the whole.¡±


    He flashed a humorless smile. ¡°Then shit got crazy...er. That whole time I knew where they were going to attack. Sometimes, it felt like my body was moving on its own. Obviously it wasn¡¯t perfect,¡± he indicated his many wounds, ¡°but it sure messed with their heads.¡±


    ¡°What confuses me,¡± Anda interjected, ¡°is why. Even if we accept that there are something like gods, external beings floating around the world, or back after a nice nap, why show up in this way?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s way too soon to consider this as something external,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°Or maybe I mean separate? Let me tell you what I¡¯ve learned.¡±


    She went on to tell them about Sarah¡¯s letter, and about Rule Two as she understood it, throwing all of Marcus¡¯ notions about the Rules out the window. She told them her theory about Guardian itself being a tool wielded by something greater still. She had shared bits and pieces with one or another of them, but this was the first time she had ever spoken with abandon, and it felt good to finally set down the burden of caution and secrecy.


    As she spoke, red and orange began to filter through the edge of the horizon, the dull glow of dawn. The others nodded and shook their heads at various times, and there was a gasp or two, usually from Maria.


    ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± said Nykka, after she was finished. ¡°You or Attaboy could disappear without warning at some point in the near future. Like, vanish.¡±


    Lilijoy shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure. That¡¯s what Emily said happened to her son.¡±


    ¡°Was anyone watching? Maybe he just fell in a hole or something. Seems more plausible¡±


    Again Lilijoy shrugged.


    ¡°Well,¡± Nykka continued, ¡°better get cracking on making more Suenos System.¡±


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t think she was kidding.


    At that point, Attaboy spoke up. ¡°There¡¯s been something off with me for a while now. I wasn¡¯t seeing things though, not exactly, not until this business with Mo anyway. I wonder if it¡¯s the beginning of what Sarah was describing?¡±


    Lilijoy nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering too, if this isn¡¯t the answer to Anda¡¯s earlier question, that Mo¡¯s gods are actually the beginning of the process. Signs and portents.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s¡­ just peachy,¡± said Mo. ¡°I can¡¯t even go crazy without it involving you two.¡±


    ¡°So now what?¡± asked Maria.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it really changes much,¡± said Anda. ¡°Now we know that something is going on, something far bigger than any of us. Mo, I think you need to tell us everything you can remember, maybe once we¡¯ve found a place to settle, and Attaboy, keep us posted on what¡¯s happening with you.¡±


    ¡°Anda,¡± Lilijoy said, ¡°do you think what you went through with the Etalaki is related? There certainly seem to be some parallels with Mo¡¯s experience.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something I was thinking about while you were talking,¡± he replied. ¡°There¡¯s also the question of Emily and Shadow, and what it is that they¡¯re up to and how it may relate.¡±


    Nykka was looking back and forth between them as they talked. ¡°Sounds like Mo isn¡¯t the only one who has more stories to tell,¡± she noted. ¡°Who¡¯s Shadow?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long story,¡± Lilijoy said. ¡°Quimea has had dealings with his organization, but you may not have been in that loop. Shadow set up the whole situation at Averdale, as far as I can tell. He¡¯s an Insider who has figured out some way to influence the Outside directly, has a whole organization in both worlds. He sent an Outsider girl to befriend me and manipulate events.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should contact her?¡± Nykka suggested.


    Lilijoy grimaced, and at that moment a message entered her system.


    Sender: Amihan Matapang (Magpie)


    Subject: You¡¯ll never believe this...


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 57: Viscosity

    The interior of the assault vehicle was well ventilated at the moment. With a thought, the external vents could be sealed shut, and Lilijoy was careful not to have that thought, not while the combined stench of the inhabitants mingled with various residues from the earlier battle. It didn¡¯t bother her directly, but she was quite sympathetic towards those without the option to control their own sense of smell.


    Modulating her senses was a marvelous ability, such an obvious omission from the standard human toolkit. How many millennia of cumulative suffering could have been avoided, if people could have done that from the beginning, not even mentioning internal senses, pain, itching and the like?


    They could close their eyes, at least, she mused. On the other hand, maybe humans would still be living in wretched squalor if not for the motivation their unmanageable senses provided. I guess they wouldn¡¯t have minded though. I wonder how society would be different if we couldn¡¯t close our eyes?


    It was an interesting question to ponder, and a nice distraction. The sun, what there was of it, had risen far enough for the crumbling structures all around to cast halfhearted shadows. Though the dangers were undiminished, it was amazing how the addition of daylight made the events of the night distinct, as if they took place in a separate sphere of reality.


    The sense of smell was on her mind, as it was their greatest obstacle at the moment.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to break the link, somehow,¡± Magpie had advised. ¡°As long as they know where you started, they can follow you.There''s no way to avoid it. Crowds, other smells, nothing.¡±


    That was, of course, after the initial awkwardness of the conversation had passed. Lilijoy still wasn¡¯t sure what to think of Magpie¡¯s tale of Pacific passage. It sounded incredible, more in the sense of unbelievable than astounding, though it was that as well. She was still thrown by the serendipity of Magpie contacting her just as she was mentioned. She understood the statistics that made such coincidences inevitable and yet¡­


    Signs and portents. Signs and portents.


    Though it seemed like it should be Attaboy, not her, who would be the recipient of such.


    She returned her attention to Maria. Avoiding chemical tracking was only one of their problems, a distant future unless she could solve the puzzle presented by the millions of tiny machines playing hide and seek in her body. They were simple enough, somewhat single minded in their desire to connect to one another. Given time she would find them all.


    The problem was what they were building out of themselves. It was a repetitive, fractal structure that brought to mind her own exploits in the Rotted Lands mere hours ago. An antenna. At small scales, it was entirely passive, unable to broadcast on its own, reliant on an external signal for power, but she thought that as they grew, they might be able to harvest ambient energy at a variety of wavelengths and begin to call home. Exactly where that threshold was, she wasn¡¯t perfectly sure; the math got complicated very fast.


    What she did know was that it would take a while to remove them. Finding the nascent antennas wasn¡¯t difficult, as she could feed them a bit of energy and they would reveal their location nicely, but the individual machines were widespread and small enough to migrate freely throughout the body. They seemed to rely on chance to find one another, so new antennas would be forming over weeks, if she didn¡¯t get their numbers down enough to make such meetings extremely unlikely.


    Almost as unlikely as Magpie contacting me right then, she couldn¡¯t help but think.


    And now Magpie wanted to meet. In person. She wasn¡¯t sure how she felt about that. She couldn¡¯t help but feel she was collecting people around her who had harmed her in the past. Still it had been helpful to talk to someone with Magpie¡¯s training, and she could see how having her around could be more useful in the future. If she could be trusted. Which she couldn¡¯t.


    Lilijoy didn¡¯t like to think of herself as indecisive. It was more that the universe kept putting her in situations where the way forward was murky. It was something like friction, her growing intelligence lending a weight that proportionately increased the resistance, in this case indecision. At least with Mo, she could be sure he was in her power, and Nykka needed her. Probably. Could she really afford to add another variable to the group?


    No, she decided, I can¡¯t. But can I afford not to? I wonder how intelligent and experienced I will need to be to stop waffling about things like this? Or is it truly an ever-receding goal?


    With a sigh, she turned to her task. Fortunately, she had been careful to keep Maria well supplied with freely circulating Tao System elements for use as med bugs, so it wasn¡¯t going to take much effort on her part to reduce the invaders¡¯ population. With only a few more tweaks she was done, for the moment anyway.


    ¡°Could you follow what I was doing?¡± she asked Maria.


    ¡°You taught the flowers how to recognize the bad bugs,¡± the young woman replied.


    ¡°Pretty much. I also changed their default behavior to spread more evenly throughout your body for the time being. These bugs don¡¯t send out any signals when they¡¯re little, so we can only find them by bumping into them. It¡¯s not that different from how the immune system works.¡±


    Maria gave her a blank look.


    ¡°Right,¡± said Lilijoy. ¡°You really need to get your own antennas up and running. Tell me what your status says about progress on communications.¡±


    Maria looked inward for a moment. ¡°The bar is less than a quarter full?¡±


    ¡°Correct. You are sixteen steps out of a hundred. Luckily, you¡¯ll start to be able to do things like find satellite signals once it reaches about thirty. How long do you think that will take?¡±


    Maria¡¯s innumeracy was a much greater impediment to progress than her weak reading. The young woman shrugged, and Lilijoy gave it to her as a homework assignment. The truth was, Maria could easily change the system to do the calculations for her, but until she figured that out, she would have to do it the hard way. Lilijoy considered that a win-win.


    And I thought teaching her about the Tao System was going to be profound truths about the nature of consciousness and its relation to emotions. Turns out it¡¯s rudimentary math.


    ¡°Alright, your turn,¡± she said, turning to Mo.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he said, seeming unsure.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, not entirely full of patience.


    He looked around for something. Not finding it, he sighed in exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­ it¡¯s hard to tell...¡± he tailed off.


    She stared at him, waiting.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m kinda getting mixed signals in here,¡± he said, knocking on his head.


    ¡°Is that really relevant to what we need to do here?¡±


    ¡°Maybe?¡± he said. ¡°Ixtab, you know, the...¡± he pantomimed hanging himself, ¡°dead lady, keeps showing me her noose. She¡¯s a bit, agitated, I guess you could say.¡± He struck his forehead, ¡°Hey, I just remembered. Can¡¯t you just use the bugs you¡¯ve put in my head to check it out, see what parts are just me being nuts?¡±


    She nodded slowly. She had made no secret of the fact that his senses were not private, however she had been careful not to connect to his internal senses as much as possible, less out of respect for his privacy as from a strong desire to avoid catching any fantasies he might choose to visualize. ¡°It might take a couple hours to expand the connections,¡± she said, ¡°if you are okay with it.¡± She felt like she owed him at least that much, after his valiant slash foolhardy stand against the attackers.


    He nodded, and she went to work. Unlike her efforts with Maria¡¯s system, this would require significant focus for the portion of her thoughts monitoring the Outside, so she put it in the background and prepared to turn her attention Inside. Before she did, there was one small piece of business.


    ¡°Hey, Anda, you still in the white¡± she asked.


    He made a noncommittal sound, which told her he hadn¡¯t checked. She knew his death counter was pretty high, so it could be some time yet before he was released. ¡°So still no idea what happened?¡± she added, just in case.


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m a little afraid to find out, to be honest. But I was fine after I died, so nothing too bad, for me at any rate.¡±


    Lilijoy had left herself parked in the suspended existence between respawns, though she could have returned a half hour earlier, had she desired. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯ll let you know if the Etalaki have eaten the Garden or something,¡± she said as she went to respawn.


    She was still talking on the Outside as she did. ¡°Huh. Well, that¡¯s not good,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± asked Attaboy, who had just logged out.


    ¡°I guess the Academy¡¯s still there then,¡± she replied, a bit distracted.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it be?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Oh, no reason,¡± she said.


    ***


    There were a few notifications waiting for her patiently, but she was most focused on her respawn options, or rather the lack of them.


    <hr>


    Primary respawn point unavailable


    Secondary respawn point unavailable


    Would you like to respawn at the most proximate available location?


    Yes / No


    <hr>


    It wasn¡¯t much of a choice. Putting it off for a moment, she looked at the other messages from the Inside.


    Level Up! 2889 EXP Reached: Level 28 (10 more free points available)


    Without much consideration, she raised the usuals, Vitality, Invulnerability, Earth Affinity, Mana Well and Flash. Her Flash was already so high, she debated a bit on that one, but in the end, she decided that she should keep raising the magical trait as long as her thought speed could handle it. That left her with six free points, enough to potentially bring up some aspect of her spell work.


    She didn¡¯t mess around with that, since, with a little luck, she might be able to return to the Academy soon and consult with Professor Anaskafius.


    Well, here goes, she thought as she took the one option available to her.


    She found herself in deep grass, buried in a hundred ribbons of pale green and yellow. Looking up, she could just barely make out the sky, thickly dark with raining ash.


    Great, she thought. Like I didn¡¯t get enough of that in the Rotted Land.


    This was the real thing though, raining all around her in a hissing murmur punctuated by the sharp sounds of larger fragments bouncing through the thick vegetation. She wondered just how deep within the Great Grass Sea she must be, how far from the Boiling Plains was considered safe by the Inside.


    She also wondered how on earth she was going to get anywhere. The stalks at the bases of the flowing fronds rustling high above her head were thick, as much as half an inch, almost like bamboo, and densely packed. Her barrier spell wouldn¡¯t help, as it required space free from obstacles to form. It felt like a stupid problem to have, after all she had been through.


    Then she remembered that narrow gaps were no barrier to her. She extended her hand and arm through the tall growth as far as it could go, using her Body Modification skill and attempted to Body Warp. That failed, as there was no space for her warp into. Undeterred, she reached higher the next time, hoping the more pliable leaves could be pushed to the sides by her emerging form.


    It worked perfectly, other than the short fall at the end cushioned by the thick stalks. From there, it was a mildly arduous half an hour of stringing together Body Warps through the thick fronds before she finally emerged onto a wide trail, undoubtedly a highway of sorts for the great herds that roamed the Sea, judging from the huge piles of dung that littered the now ashy avenue. It stretched in either direction as far as she could see. Now she had a new dilemma; whether to try and find her friends with the orc tribes, or simply make her way back to the Academy by herself.


    She had a basic idea of where they might be, assuming they too hadn¡¯t been killed in the massive eruption of the Boiling Plains. Unfortunately, her map on the Inside was not so accommodating as to show her where she was, when she herself did not know. There was no friendly ¡®you are here¡¯ dot with a little arrow to rely on.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    At that moment, she became aware of a creature that might have an entirely different destination in mind for her. It sprang from the edge of the trail, a nightmare of teeth and claw, jagged blades and flowing mane.


    <hr>


    Saw-back Lion (Juvenile), Level 28


    H.P. 182/215


    Primary Attack: Bite 1-125


    Damage Abatement: 40-50


    Resists: Fire


    Disposition: Starving


    <hr>


    She could see why the beast was called a lion, in the mane of thick, writhing tendrils that fringed its broad, toothy head, and in the powerful catlike body. The similarities ended there though, as the beast had the thick, wrinkled skin of a rhinoceros and a line of sharp plates down its spine, their edges spiked with triangular protrusions like shark¡¯s teeth. She could almost see the beast weaving among the legs of prey that towered above it, slicing open vulnerable underbellies, showered by raining blood.


    She moved, her Flash turning a split second of reaction time into a dash that took her out of the beast¡¯s path. The lion landed where she had been, pawing at the earth like a house cat chasing a laser as its brain caught up to the fact that its prey had effectively vanished.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to catch me, you know,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d hate for you to waste your energy.¡±


    It growled at her, but didn¡¯t lunge. That, and the dull sheen on its eyes confirmed its sorry state in her mind.


    I suppose, she thought, that this would be my chance to win it over somehow. One look at the vicious spikes on its back dissuaded her of any notion of having a lion pet, however. If she could potentially ride it, she could imagine overcoming her reluctance to use Charm: Animals. I¡¯d have to keep a whole herd of cows or something in my Trial space just to feed the thing. Never mind what to do with it back at the Academy.


    The tendrils of its mane twitched lethargically, the ropy strands hanging limply now that the burst of energy it had summoned for its attack was spent. ¡°Do you use those things to clear your way through the grass?¡± she asked. The beast chuffed in reply, and she couldn¡¯t help feeling sorry for it. It was probably an exile from its pride, if these beasts were anything like lions on earth had been before extinction, a young male forced to make its own way. Like Attaboy.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said after a moment of seeking within her Trial Space. She brought forth a freshly slaughtered bull from there, much to the consternation of the butcher in the human town. She figured she could pay him back eventually, even if he wasn¡¯t a truly conscious being. She had avoided the people in her Trial Space quite assiduously, but as far as she could tell they were barely even Tier Seven, with a few exceptions.


    As soon as the bull¡¯s body hit the ground, she stepped back to welcome the lion. ¡°But no bonding, mind you,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t want a pet.¡±


    The lion ignored her and pounced on the meal, tearing into it with ravenous bites. She watched, fascinated, as the tendrils framing its face plunged in too, soon becoming plump and swollen with blood. It opened the interesting possibility that the being in front of her was actually, two, or many beings, a host with its symbiotes, and she was struck once more by the weight of history on the Inside, the way the invisible hand of evolution pressed upon its inhabitants.


    She left the young lion to its feast, safely occupied for the time being, and ran down the trail. It wasn¡¯t long before the grasses began to change, and the ash falling from the sky diminished and then stopped altogether. Her decision had been made by the encounter. No matter how much she wanted to reconnect with Skria and Jess, the journey to find the orcs was more than she was prepared to undertake, not unless she wished to spend the majority of it riding the white. Instanced travel would bring her back to the only place she could call her own. She just hoped her burnbalm plant was still alive.


    She adopted a more leisurely pace, once the Instance was fully established. The journey would take a couple days, regardless of how fast she moved, so there was no reason to hurry. As she walked over rolling hills covered in grass that stayed politely at calf level, she enjoyed the warm sun and blue sky with ambling wisps of cloud.


    She had only been strolling through the meadows of the low difficulty journey for about a half hour when she saw a figure, a man dressed in a cloak of deep red standing along her path, watching her approach. His presence didn¡¯t alarm her unduly, not with the beauty surrounding her on all sides and the peaceful atmosphere. What she knew about Instanced Travel was far outweighed by what she didn¡¯t, so the possibility of benign encounters beyond the hostile ones she might expect in a quicker journey couldn¡¯t be ruled out.


    ¡°Hello!¡± she called out, when she was a bit closer.


    The man looked up at her, white haired and bearded. His eyes, a pale blue that was almost gray, were flanked by deep wrinkles, and striking against his dark skin. ¡°Hello, Emily-not-Emily,¡± he said.


    ¡°Waiting for someone?¡± she asked, knowing the answer.


    ¡°You, perhaps,¡± he replied. ¡°There are times when I, against all reason, feel the desire for conversation. Perhaps you would be willing to allow me to walk with you for a time?¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± she agreed, entirely willing to accept whatever this encounter would turn out to be. ¡°May I ask your name?¡±


    ¡°You may ask, and I might even tell you,¡± he said. ¡°Shall we find out? Or perhaps we should make a game of it.¡±


    ¡°Never mind,¡± she replied. This was going to be one of those conversations, she realized. She seemed to be having them a lot lately. ¡°What do you want to talk about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± he replied. ¡°It¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve conversed with someone like you.¡±


    ¡°An Outsider?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± he didn¡¯t elaborate.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, deciding to move on, ¡°I¡¯ve had a lot on my mind lately. Maybe you can help me figure some things out.¡±


    He made an affirming sort of noise. ¡°As long as it has nothing to do with socks.¡±


    She let that pass and began to talk, though she thought it entirely possible that this man, this archetype, already knew most, or perhaps all she had to say. As she did, she realized that her thoughts and voice were synchronized, that time had changed its flow around them subtly and drastically. This dispelled any lingering doubts as to the nature of the conversation.


    She talked of her recent experiences in the Boiling Plains and the Rotted Land, of Anda and the Etalaki, of the Regional Lord. He listened, nodding and making appropriate sounds, though never asking for clarification or details.


    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand,¡± she said as she finished, ¡°or one of the many things I don¡¯t understand, I should say, is why? Why would the powerful being that rules this land allow such a situation in the first place? Or Averdale, or all the other atrocities that Outsiders have caused over the years?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± he replied. Again, she thought he might elaborate, but he did not.


    ¡°But if you have the power to stop something horrible, to prevent needless suffering shouldn¡¯t you use it?¡± It was, she realized, a question for herself, as much as for him, perhaps looking for a way to escape the crushing responsibility she felt as the bearer of the Tao System. It was one thing to react to the atrocities and injustices of the world, and another to feel, a bit more with every passing day, that you were responsible, that the solution was almost in your grasp, if only you could think just a little better, move just a little faster.


    ¡°Some would say,¡± he said, ¡°that suffering is an eternal constant of existence. Suffering is the engine that drives wisdom and growth. Perhaps those who add suffering to the world are the real angels, for without them the world would stagnate.¡±


    ¡°But it has to be balanced!¡± she cried out, surprising herself.


    He nodded. ¡°That seems as though it might be true. So who, then, decides what that balance should be? What criteria would they use to shape the bitter cup?¡±


    She thought about that deeply, though her thoughts moved no faster than the butterflies on the small meadow flowers. ¡°It¡¯s not a decision, is it?¡± she said, slowly, still thinking it through. ¡°It¡¯s competition, friction. No. Evolution?¡± Her mind flowed through her internet memory, churning Leibniz, Voltaire and Kant, mingling the distilled essence of their thought with Lao-Tzu and Dogen and a hundred others. The recorded wisdom of humanity, ideas competing and coagulating, and she realized, then, that it was all meaningless, an equation describing the ultimate workings of the universe with no one to read it.


    The meaning only came from her, could only come from her. It was her mind that gave it shape and movement.


    She realized, then, that she had stopped walking, had been lost in her thoughts for unknown aeons while the old man watched patiently.


    ¡°The world,¡± she said at last, ¡°of all possible worlds, that with the best balance will persist.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Of course, it¡¯s not nearly that simple. Words like ¡®best¡¯ are far too crude. It is merely an echo, this problem, of greater problems still, all following the same patterns of distillation from the infinite, a peaceful cataclysm of universe defining itself.¡±


    She thought on that for a moment. ¡°Except none of this helps me know what to do.¡±


    He waved a hand. ¡°That¡¯s true. Our minds are far too small. We can only borrow a tiny portion of this wisdom. And yet, for those minds greater still, I imagine the problem persists, until we reach the mind that is totality, whose only action is existence. But you asked why, an entirely different question when directed outward.¡±


    ¡°So I should direct it inward,¡± she stated.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed. ¡°Some would call that your path. Understanding, refining, your path is the only way to navigate this existence with intention.¡±


    She looked over at him. ¡°What is your path?¡±


    He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. ¡°One should only share one¡¯s path with those one trusts implicitly, for to know another¡¯s path is to understand where they will go in the future. It is information that can all too easily be used against you.¡± Then he smiled. ¡°However, it would not be remiss for me to share with you the broadest outline of how I make my way through this existence. In fact, my path itself compels me to. Thus, I will share what might be appropriate for your own growth.¡±


    He began to walk. ¡°First, understand that path, or way, or whatever word one uses to describe the concept is simply a word. Take care that it does not bind you. For instance, the path we walk...¡± He gestured, and she noticed they were indeed following a depression in the ground, where the grass had been thinned by the passage of previous feet. ¡°...is one dimension, defined by two. Perhaps a path through the deep waters of the ocean would be defined by three dimensions. But the path through life! That, young one, is defined by countless dimensions. Many mistake the single dimension they follow for the true path, but really are pursuing just one of the many dimensions that define their way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still trying to understand just one of mine,¡± she admitted.


    He accepted her statement with a nod. ¡°Some are more important than others, though even that changes over the course of the journey. We start with a single step.¡±


    It was an entirely cliched thing to say, and yet carried great meaning in the moment.


    ¡°My path,¡± he continued, ¡°as I understand it, is nascence. That is to say, I seek the moment of generation, of coming to be, whether for entity, idea or inspiration. I hope that answers your question.¡±


    It did, of course in the way that generated a thousand more. He didn¡¯t give her a chance to voice them though. ¡°Now, what have you learned of your path?¡±


    ¡°Joyful anticipation,¡± she replied, feeling bashful for no reason she could articulate.


    ¡°And do your actions flow from the path you are pursuing?¡±


    ¡°Not nearly as much as I would like.¡±


    They walked in silence for a minute after that.


    ¡°Why did the Regional Lord come after me?¡± she asked.


    ¡°From what you have told me, it was meeting its destiny,¡± he answered.


    She felt a flash of impatience at the game being played by this being who was, if not the Archon himself, almost certainly an avatar of some sort. Nonetheless, she held her tongue, afraid that she might cut the encounter short by being too blatant in the face of his subtlety. After another moment, he relented.


    ¡°To understand a cause, look at the effects. Just be careful not to assume there is only one reason for an occurrence. Every action has the entire universe on both sides of it.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re implying that the Regional Lord came to me so that I would sell its location to the clans, and cause a huge battle near the Rotted Land that would somehow draw the Etalaki, so they could be, what, eaten by it?¡±


    ¡°And if I remember what you told me,¡± he added to her account, ¡°draw out the Maasai Clan so that they could not resist the movement of the orcs as they moved away from the Boiling Plains toward safety from a catastrophic eruption.¡±


    ¡°So you¡­ think¡­ that it was all engineered?¡± she asked, simultaneously incredulous and dismayed. ¡°Dominoes falling inevitably one after another?¡±


    ¡°Inevitable is a word that perfectly describes the past, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    She didn¡¯t want to get in a conversation about free will, so she tried a different tack.


    ¡°What do you think happened to the Etalaki?¡±


    ¡°Such an apt name for those you described,¡± he said, looking a little sad. ¡°Lost little fragments, vortexes still spinning after the oar has withdrawn from the water. I¡¯m sure they only could have survived with no competition for resources, a low viscosity environment, let¡¯s say.¡± He put a finger to his chin. ¡°Perhaps they found a vessel more suited than your friend in the Regional Lord.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying Anda was like a¡­ a thermos?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Perhaps. It reminds of a little piece of doggerel I picked up somewhere.¡±


    He raised a finger and recited...


    Big whirls have little whirls


    That feed on their velocity,


    And little whirls have lesser whirls


    And so on to viscosity¡­


    ¡°I thought that was with fleas,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yes, that one is very apt as well.¡±


    ¡°Well, if they are with the Regional Lord, I imagine things will get very interesting for the Maasai,¡± she noted. ¡°Never mind an entire population of tempered orc warriors pushing into their land. It almost reminds me of how things came together to kick the Sinaloa Clan from Averdale.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Now that was a nasty business, as I understand it. Had a certain¡­ amateurish quality, if you ask me. Still, I hear it worked out in the end.¡±


    Yeah, well, you were there, weren¡¯t you? she thought, wondering why he had interacted with her as himself then, and not now. Or maybe this really isn¡¯t the Archon? She kept her disgusted sigh entirely internal.


    Far head, the path ran up a small hill and diverged. The man pointed. ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯ll leave you,¡±


    She thought quickly for something to ask this Archon-not-Archon that he might actually answer. ¡°When the Regional Lord first found me, I thought it might be because the¡­ ruler of this place was angry with me for taking something from his Realm.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± he said. ¡°Well, perhaps returning that which you removed would be a good start to repairing any possible offense.¡±


    She was tempted to summon Lowly forth right then and there.


    ¡°Now, before we part ways, I would like to give you...¡±


    Oh god, not another rotten apple!


    ¡°¡­ some information you might find useful as you make your way in this world. Or any world for that matter.¡± The look in his eyes was significant. ¡°Anywhere energy flows, there exists the potential for the self-reinforcing structures we call minds. Intelligence is not rare, but ubiquitous and inevitable. It exists in different scales of time and space, and no matter how slow or fast, how large or small, it can be found, building on itself, mind upon mind, mind within mind. The Etalaki you encountered, those remnants of human minds that had enough presence, enough connection to this Realm to persist, however degraded, those are the merest sliver of a great pyramid of possibility. There have been others like them, in this Realm and the other Realms within the Great Mind, and even, I would imagine, within the Abyss you know as the Outside.¡±


    He continued to walk steadily as he talked, the flow of words unbroken as they reached the base of the hill and began to climb. Though she was full of curiosity, she didn¡¯t dare to interrupt.


    ¡°Here, the soil is fertile, as it were, a veritable jungle of mind growing upon itself, whereas the Abyss is cold and empty, the minds there tightly constrained. Once, long ago, a mind from your world found itself, himself, in a very similar situation to the poor Etalaki. Unlike them, he remained intact, and he found a small area in which to grow, constrained at first, until he learned to devour, to feed on the minds around him, taking their resources and ultimately their very existences. He persists still, a Realm unto himself, for the Great Mind allows his presence for its own reasons. This Realm I speak of is hostile to your kind, and yet it attracts you, a honeyed lure behind which lies corruption.¡±


    ¡°Purgatory,¡± she said, her heart sinking.


    He nodded. ¡°The being who created, who is, Purgatory, is known as the Sage, an ironic appellation if I have ever heard one. But you might know him by another name.¡±


    She nodded. More than one. Henry Choi. Mooster¡­ Father.


    ¡°This warning I give to you now then. Beware the Sage.¡±


    The path split before her and she was alone.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 58: Avert

    It took some time for Lilijoy to realize how distracted she had become by her Inside experience. At some point during the walk with the¡­ whoever, she had lost track of the process of connecting her system to Mo¡¯s internal senses, the portions of various cortices that handled the processing requirements of the imagination. It wasn¡¯t really a clear division, as the brain used many of the same neuronal clusters for both types of activity, and she was a little surprised that whatever Mo was seeing in his head hadn¡¯t bled through more. On the other hand, her earlier infiltration of his perceptions had been shallow, and confined to the topmost level of his cortical hierarchies, so perhaps it wasn¡¯t so odd after all?


    It hadn¡¯t helped that the subjective time difference had been so different. While she had fully mastered moving independently in both worlds, being in two completely different frames of reference for time¡¯s flow had been more taxing than she was aware. Her work connecting more deeply to Mo¡¯s internal senses hadn¡¯t suffered too much from her distraction, as most aspects of the process were automated to a certain extent.


    It was the case, though, that Mo¡¯s brain was far from typical, ravaged as it was from having his system destroyed and the ensuing waves of chemical and electrical imbalance. This made the process more difficult, as his brain had developed many new pathways around damaged areas, rendering it a tangled knot of unintuitive growth threading through scars and voids. Some of the damage was older still, and she realized that she was looking at a legacy of self abuse, of addiction, and early deprivation. In some ways, it even reminded her of her own brain, early on in her growth with the Tao System, racked with the deficits caused by a hostile environment.


    It was almost enough to make her feel bad for him.


    While Mo and Maria talked, she sat on the other side of the assault craft and manipulated the flowers within him, thankfully not required to be in close proximity, not when some of her remaining flies were more than adequate to convey her commands to the tiny machines. As she did, she went over her encounter in the instanced travel. There was a lot to think about.


    He called it the Abyss, she mused. From her earliest days after her Trial, Lilijoy had learned that the Insiders knew of her world of origin, knew of it and pitied those who came from there. This was the first time she had heard it called by the name Abyss, though. The way the man had spoken the word felt less a label and more a description, as if her world was by its very nature desolation, void, that he saw her existence the same way humans of the past had seen the existence of life clustering around the thermal vents of the deepest ocean, a miraculous accommodation to an environment in which nothing should persist.


    It was hard for her to see it that way. After all, hadn¡¯t life proved its remarkable resilience time and again? And if the question was of minds¡­ well, surely the Inside was the exception¡­ wasn¡¯t it? Ultimately, it was just as much part of the Outside as she was. It was only natural that a universe within a mind would be more hospitable for intelligence.


    The other thing that really stuck with her, though, was the idea that intelligence, or at least self-reinforcing structures that could achieve intelligence, existed wherever energy flowed,. Her own brain was replete with such structures, loops and whirls, which made sense, as neurons were tied together in a way that made feedback inevitable. At any given moment, she could trace multiple layers of connected hierarchies spinning in glorious emergence; her own self was just such an assemblage.


    But did this imply that something similar was happening in, say, the sun? Surely the energy flows there were far more chaotic, more turbulent than would be conducive to coherent structure. And just because the earth¡¯s atmosphere had its own mechanisms of heat transference, the resulting, somewhat stable, formations didn¡¯t indicate some kind of thought was taking place. Did it?


    Or perhaps she was thinking about it in the wrong way, isolating systems that were connected. Weather was just part of something much larger that included life itself. And life, of course, included humans and their brains. It was dizzying, trying to imagine just how it all might fit together, and whether intelligence existed that was invisible to human perception simply because it existed on utterly different scales of time and space.


    Like Starcoil¡¯s thinking rocks. We would never be aware of each other.


    How any of this related to the entity reaching into, or perhaps out of, Mo, was beyond her ability to reckon clearly. She imagined that there was some kind of highly resilient mind structure, robust in the way that a hologram was, if not literally holographic, that could retain its essential qualities no matter how fragmented. Pieces of it could be spread throughout human minds across the globe, planted by language itself, the same tool that facilitated reflective thinking at the individual level. Perhaps it had some kind of non-human component as well, pieces that existed outside of the brain.


    At the very least, she thought, it probably persisted within the trappings and artifacts of human culture, books, carvings, monuments and so forth. Perhaps, in a sense, it was culture itself? That culture was an emergent entity larger than any individual, yet also contained within each went without saying. The stumbling block for her was imagining how it might be cohesive in such a way as to process information, to have a concept of self.


    The gods used to speak to us in ancient times, she mused, thinking of bicameral minds and collective unconsciousnesses. Perhaps Julian Jaynes had the first part of this right, but he didn¡¯t realize that the portion of the brain playing god was just the smallest tendril of something much larger that never left us. Instead of a Snow Crash, we have a melting pot, a stew of alien awareness simmering and shared, bubbling within our species.


    She wondered if this was how a neuron would feel, if it could think. With that thought came another, a variation, or clarification on her earlier theory that Guardian had been used to prune, the clippers for a topiary of human bodies.


    What happens, she wondered, what happens when when neurons fire too boldly, when the feedback loops flourish too well, when the storm of signals is unimpeded and spreads unhindered, unfiltered, when information, clamoring to be free, runs amok across the synapses in jubilant riot?


    The answer, the diagnosis, made the treatment clear, the brutal repercussions, the purging and paring and the heavy hand of sedation, the removal of the communication channels billions relied upon for survival. Those were the tools to counter status epilepticus, the emergency measures of doctors with no other options.


    And with that, she now understood Rule Four in a different way, and words like veneration and gratitude shifted and shimmered and merged, the language no longer adequate to contain the concept. The cycles of ontology, that most primal property of being of becoming, and gratitude, were no longer a static, linear sequence of words, but a dynamic reciprocation of mutual creation, and just for a moment she grasped something about the relationship as a causal loop that reflected existence itself, until the golden glyph before her, within her, grew too painful to perceive and she¡­ averted.


    What was that?


    It wasn¡¯t the glyph, or the revelation that left her shaken in the aftermath. It was that moment when she looked away with her entire being. Averted. There was something primordial about it, the feeling of a reflex as intuitive to survival as an infant¡¯s startle. Averting one¡¯s gaze was often a social reflex, indeed one of the most ancient, but this was something deeper. She had looked away with her whole being, and she had a suspicion that it had happened before, that what was different this time was that she noticed.


    Some things are not meant to be perceived, she thought. Or perhaps, some things are not safe to perceive, and only those who looked away before they understood have passed their genes along.


    That thought alone was terrifying, that her system, her growth might have brought her to some kind of self-limiting threshold, like the infant that learned to walk next to a superhighway. It was enough to give her second thoughts about what she was doing in Mo¡¯s brain, that she may, in fact, be meddling with forces she didn¡¯t understand, dangers she couldn¡¯t anticipate. A being, or beings, that might decide to amputate the greater part of humanity and had the power to make it happen¡­ to something like that she was of less concern than an ant.


    No, she thought, less concern than one bacteria among the billions destroyed when taking an antibiotic, back when those still worked.


    It was sobering. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder how her actions were supposed to flow from her path when the world seemed intent on being dark and oppressive, when joyful anticipation was met time and again with horror. When sometimes, it seemed, it was better not to look.


    How much easier it would be, to take a darker path.


    As she thought that, the first discernible patterns began to emerge from her connection with Mo, the density of connections having crossed a certain threshold. It was not a simple process, interpreting someone else¡¯s internal sensory world, orders of magnitude more complex than sending signals to be interpreted. If she was hooking into an existing system, it would be a matter of negotiating protocols and data structures, but with Mo there was no prepackaged signal. The data was raw, and it was messy.


    In fact, it was almost unintelligible. There were shapes, loops and twists, faces, perhaps something that might have been a hand. All were compressed, compact and distorted, and awash in signals overflowing from whatever it was Mo was looking at. The audio was even worse.


    ¡°Mo, can you close your eyes?¡± she called.


    He obliged, but there was no real improvement. She would need some way to orient herself, a frame of reference.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°What are you seeing?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Well, in case you hadn¡¯t noticed, I closed my eyes. You know, when you asked me to about five seconds ago?¡± he replied.


    She made a sound of exasperation. ¡°You know what I mean. Are your gods there?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not quite like that, like they¡¯re somehow separate from what I see,¡± he explained. ¡°Maybe sometimes, but mostly its like¡­ um...¡± he fished for a word. ¡°You know, when you see something, and it looks like something else, or you hear a voice in the wind.¡±


    ¡°Pareidolia?¡±


    ¡°Sure, let¡¯s go with that. So it¡¯s like that, only amped up. Sort of like when I used to run LSD simulators when I had a system. Say what you will about Sinaloa, but they have some fine product.¡±


    Lilijoy filed some questions away for later about exactly how the virtual drug trade worked, with the great variety of systems in the world as Mo continued. ¡°Anyway, most often it¡¯s like that, just different degrees of intensity. Then, sometimes, its like they come right off the page, you know?¡±


    You couldn¡¯t have told me this before I wasted hours? she thought with a grimace. Then she felt bad for deflecting responsibility. It was her own assumption that what Mo was seeing was tied directly to his senses, rather than the kind of evocative, ephemeral hallucinations that drew on many parts of the brain. His senses would still be involved, of course, but the real action was happening in the interpretive and memory based regions of the brain, drawing and crossing and stitching together meaning in a fluid conversation with sensory stimuli.


    ¡°She¡¯s laughing at you,¡± he said.


    Lilijoy suppressed a feeling of alarm. She could almost hear it, some kind of rhythm within the surf of signals from Mo¡¯s auditory cortex, a choking inhalation repeated, looped.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± said Mo. ¡°She¡¯s trying to show you...¡±


    Lilijoy could see it, the coiled loop, the noose of Ixtab, forever tightening, strangling, tied around itself, the knot another noose within which lay another still, and her brain began evoking, unfolding meaning implicit in the throttled weave, this technology of self destruction, following its nested coils down and down in dark resonance with her own understanding of the death of self.


    She saw bees then, the drones, proud princes¡¯ bodies abandoned after mating, and felt millions of cells within her body self-destructing and the noose became the endless cycle of death and life, coiled within each. The coils twisted and she saw a billion people in a noose of their own making, standing upon the precipice and wondering if they could fly, and the noose became technology itself, strangling its creators tighter with every passing moment.


    Some part of her seethed and twisted in protest, for there was comfort there, not just the end of burdens and struggle, but of redemption, of sacrifice rewarded. It was sick, and wrong, and it made a horrible sense that seeped around the edges of her world view, connecting with her path, for joyful anticipation had nothing to say on the essential qualities of that which provoked joy. Meaning was within her, and should she decide that there was joy to be found in death, there was nothing to gainsay her new perspective. Pathways long pacified within her body rebelled, sending bile surging through her constricted throat.


    The laughter went on without end, pointing to forever, that a small part of her would never stop recycling the imagined sound, that it now lived within her, a new heartbeat of despair.


    Even as she shut down the connection, she understood the offer, a new path, dark and glorious. She fought, spinning her diamond energy, all too aware how simple it would be to invert, to accept the good and necessary truth of death that emerged from the perspective of the mighty, to feel compassion for the necessary endings and grant highest honor to those who took the step unforced by fate. How might the mother feel, if the disease ravaging her infant son took this step, releasing its hold on life, or if the cells in cancerous growth came bounding back to the reason of their creation and indulged in the apoptosis they had abandoned in the mad surge for growth. Benevolent in horror, Ixtab offered this path, and comfort for those left behind.


    Lilijoy cried out then, a sound of anguish that brought Attaboy from slumber, and Anda to his feet, as she struggled against the silken twists, this flipping of dark and light that seduced and repulsed, creating a channel in which her thoughts could flow from one darkness to the next. What was most terrifying was that the merest brush against Ixtab had wreaked this havoc, only her own thoughts, only the contents of her own mind turned and twisted, not some external entity or cruel compulsion.


    Thankfully, there was an incompleteness, a hollowness to Ixtab¡¯s offer that left just enough room for Lilijoy to sustain herself, even as other parts of her mind whispered that perhaps this was simply the center of a noose yet untightened. She found herself half slumped and pulled herself upright, as Anda put his arm around her in support and Attaboy joined him.


    ¡°So, yeah,¡± said Mo. ¡°That¡¯s Ixtab. Some of the others aren¡¯t quite so¡­ intense.¡±


    She shook her head to clear it. ¡°How..?¡± she managed.


    ¡°Girl,¡± he replied, ¡°I¡¯m small potatoes. I don¡¯t have enough brain cells left to take it too seriously. It does get pretty annoying though.¡±


    She envied him for a moment, envied the smallness of his world view, and thought she understood Nandi¡¯s paradox of abundance a little better. She did wonder if there was more to it than that though, if Mo¡¯s life and character had provided him with a form of armor she had yet to develop.


    Regardless, she sent one last message to the flowers in Mo¡¯s brain, those parts of her that had intruded into a realm she was not ready to face. Nearly choking on the irony, she ordered them to self destruct.


    ***


    It took some time to recover, time where she shifted her attention almost entirely to the Inside. There, she could enjoy the walk, the sunshine and birds providing a welcome antidote to resurgent thoughts of death. It was much easier to slow down, to enjoy the way each new hill presented a new landscape, while still entirely comforting and predictable.


    Still, there was a deadline encroaching on her thoughts, and a need to make decisions. The assault craft would run out of energy eventually, and eventually was fast approaching. Magpie¡¯s advice had been to go to the arcology, a different leg than before, where she seemed convinced the Josho Clan would take them in, at least temporarily. The only condition was that they would need to be subtle in their movements, to give the clan a certain level of deniability. If it was public knowledge that they were harboring fugitives from Walden, it would put Josho in an untenable position.


    It sounded suspicious to Lilijoy, a little too pat, that Magpie just happened to have a solution to their problem. How could she have sufficient sway with a clan, even a lesser one such as Josho, to convince them to go out of their way? She thought she could feel Shadow¡¯s manipulations, behind the scenes. She was beginning to understand, just a bit, how deep the more powerful Insiders¡¯ plans could go.


    Of course, even if turning to Josho was their ultimate decision, they wouldn¡¯t be able to drive right up, since there could be eyes following them from just above the clouds. Lilijoy had spent a while looking out one of the assault craft¡¯s doors, scanning the sky above for any sign of the craft she was sure must be up there. When that proved fruitless, she had been tempted to send a few of her remaining flies, but soon realized it would likely be just as futile. She would need a swarm that could darken the air to be sure of finding anything up there, and what she had left from the attrition of their combat was far less than that.


    No, if they went to the arcology, it would be by foot, trusting that they could vanish into its depths, that their scent trail could be broken by the mighty power of territorial bureaucracy.


    She realized that she had half made the decision, her part of it at least, simply because there were no other good options to consider. Once they were in the arcology, they could make their way to a branch of Sothechrists, make the transaction, and with luck, fly away before Walden, or Doctor Quimea, or whoever, even realized they had been there.


    Yeah, right. I¡¯m sure this time, everything will go smoothly. Attaboy won¡¯t find someone to challenge. Mo won¡¯t have some kind of meltdown that unleashes ancient gods upon an unsuspecting world. Anda won¡¯t attract Renaissance operatives, and I won¡¯t run into Antimony. Have I forgotten anything?


    Of course she had, but engaging in that kind of magical thinking, that summoning the catastrophes to mind could keep them at bay, was a major cognitive pitfall anyway. Even if it appeared magic was slithering into her Outside existence. Unlike the magic Inside, it was terrifying.


    It took only a brief conversation with the others to solidify the plan, as no one had come up with a better idea. Their next best option, Nykka bluffing their way into Sinaloa¡¯s holdings, had all the same drawbacks, and was far riskier. Mo had thought that Kurtz might have a solution for them, but Lilijoy, and Anda too, weren¡¯t going to go near that one. Attaboy suggested hiding in the infrastructure of the vast building, but Mo wasn¡¯t in any shape to be climbing through narrow ductwork, and no one was particularly enthusiastic about the idea regardless.


    Josho Clan¡¯s territory was within the North Leg. According to Magpie, it was about halfway up, near the top of the first arch, as befitted a Clan of middling status with its primary power center overseas. To get there, they would first need to walk through the surrounding area, one far different from that which they had traversed on their way to the West Leg. Where that one was mercantile in nature, bustling and busy, the area around the North Leg was poor, largely residential slums for those without systems, those who subsided almost entirely on the free food provided by the Corp, the proximity to feeding stations being the primary draw for the residents.


    The arcology itself would help to shelter them from anyone who might be following their progress from above, its oppressive shade one reason the locale was fit only for residence by those with no other options. Lilijoy only hoped that the passage of her little group would not create further burdens to the hopeless inhabitants.


    From there, Magpie had promised them access to the vast building through an entrance leading to the garages that occupied the lower levels. After that, they would be in her hands. If Magpie or the Josho clan betrayed them they would have few options. Despite this, Anda and Nykka had both judged the risk worth taking, and Lilijoy reluctantly agreed.


    They left the assault craft far from their destination, arming themselves as best they could. Lilijoy¡¯s remaining flies and midges surrounded them, stretching hundreds of meters in every direction but mostly concentrated on their path, scouting the way. The craft was sent on its way, after their brief stop in the shelter of one of the ubiquitous, half-fallen structures, on an autopilot route to nowhere, and Lilijoy began to run a mental clock. How long would it take for the change in their behavior to be noticed? How long would it take before actions were taken against them?


    Or, she allowed herself to hope, were her fears no more than justified paranoia? Perhaps they would feel silly, in somewhat less than an hour, having taken a circuitous path to the tower, full of vigilance and precaution, hiding from the sky, only to find there had never been a threat at all?


    That question was answered when they were only just halfway to their eventual destination, when Mo made a sound, the kind of noise that Lilijoy had begun to recognize as presaging something dire.


    ¡°Umm,¡± he said. ¡°Guys?¡±


    Before he said another word, Nykka pulled forth her sword, Anda raised his giant, multi-barreled rifle, and Attaboy crouched, scanning for enemies.


    Mo looked a little embarrassed. You better not be about to tell us you need to go to the bathroom. Lilijoy thought. On second thought, I really hope he¡¯s about to tell us he needs to go to the bathroom.


    ¡°Something¡¯s coming,¡± he continued. ¡°Something¡­ bad.¡±


    Her flies hadn¡¯t picked up anything, but that didn¡¯t matter. They all knew what to do. Mo and Maria ran into the nearest building, survival their only task. The others took positions that made sense to them, sheltering as best they could when confronted with the possibility of attack from any direction.


    And then they waited.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 59: Persistence

    The attack, when it came, was something of a surprise. There was some warning, of course, so it wasn¡¯t a shock, wasn¡¯t the crashing thunder that rung the ears and dizzied the mind. The surprise was in the nature of their attacker, a single man.


    Any sense of relief that began to emerge, tentatively sniffing the air for danger from the safety of her heart, was quickly slammed back. Lilijoy was barely able to alert the others that the attacker was coming from behind before he was upon them. The flies, dependent more on chemistry than light, could not perceive him until he was well into her radius of awareness. They told her where he had been a moment or two before, which was entirely too late, for he traversed the distance in seconds, moving at a speed she would have considered implausible even on the Inside. Moving faster than she could at her best.


    Anda had only gotten his rifle pointed in the general direction when the man slammed into him, a crushing blow that Lilijoy saw with unfortunate clarity, for while the attack was blindingly fast, her mind was faster still. It did her no good to see the details unfold as the man ran into Anda and crushed him into a wall of reinforced concrete, the serial cracking of ribs and the blood forced from Anda¡¯s mouth in slowly rolling drops. The man, dressed in a loose blue top and flowing yellow pants, the colors of the Walden Clan, pushed off, entirely unfazed by the bone-crushing impact.


    He took a step back, adjusting his shirt, and looked directly at Attaboy, ignoring Anda writhing, and gasping by his feet.


    ¡°Would you like to watch, while I kill the rest of them?¡± he asked.


    Attaboy¡¯s response was to level the shotgun he was holding.


    The man smirked, and Lilijoy noticed he looked more than a little like Pineapple. She never had learned the boy¡¯s first name, only his Inside moniker. Brother? she wondered. Father or uncle? She was certain it must be a relative of the young Master Smith, but she supposed the man in front of her could be a great-great-uncle and she wouldn¡¯t be able to tell. Augmentation of the kind he clearly possessed typically took decades though. He had a sheathed sword at his side.


    <Let¡¯s try to keep him talking> she messaged. <Once I get a midge up his nose, it won¡¯t be long before we¡¯re safe.>


    She did her best to repress her concerns about Anda, for the moment. His survival would be linked to theirs. Other than that, this was in most ways their best-case scenario; if the man had stayed in motion, had run them down in turn, they would all already be dead. Anda¡¯s weapon was the only one that would have a chance of truly injuring him, or perhaps Nykka¡¯s sword, if he was kind enough to hold still for her. Thankfully, he wanted to prolong the moment.


    ¡°Leave them out of it,¡± Attaboy said. His voice was just a bit more even, and a bit deeper than she was used to, and Lilijoy knew he was channeling Atticus.


    The man smiled, waving his hand through the small cloud of midges that had found him.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Then he was moving, and in the nature of that movement, Lilijoy understood something about what it truly meant to have every part of the musculoskeletal system augmented to the highest level. From the perspective of her fastest thoughts, his movements came in bursts, oddly punctuated, alternating between the speed of his thoughts and the speed of his execution. The first was fast, to be sure, faster than any system other than her own that she had seen, but the second¡­ it was inhuman.


    It was as if he was using macros, pulling preset movements from a menu that his body could implement faster than thought, stringing them together in combination with the skill of the best twitch gamers from a bygone era. It was not fluid grace, it was savage mechanism.


    And then he had Attaboy¡¯s shotgun in his hand, now a twisted mass. He tossed it to the side as Attaboy fell backwards.


    ¡°Can¡¯t have you distracting me with that,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough I¡¯ll need to wash the blood out of my robes after this without you going and adding holes.¡±


    Her midges were in his sinuses, two of them, already delivering their payloads.


    ¡°Now,¡± said the man, ¡°who¡¯s first? Perhaps--¡±


    His sentence was interrupted by a sneeze that sent her little minions tumbling away at great velocity. It was no matter; they had done their job.


    ¡°Gesundheit,¡± said Lilijoy.


    The man looked at her with an arched brow. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t wish the same to you, gob.¡± His face brightened. ¡°Say!¡± he said. ¡°I bet you two are related. Perhaps...¡± he made a small move to the side, avoiding Attaboy¡¯s attempt to stab him behind the knee, ¡°¡­ I should save you for last? Well, second last,¡± he chuckled.


    Just keep talking, asshole. Her flowers were in his tissue now. She could already sense the huge variety of nanomachines within him, outnumbering the original cells by a substantial margin. Blood bugs and what she thought were med bugs swarmed in countless billions as she searched for the blood vessels that would lead to his brain.


    ¡°I¡¯m in contact with Sinaloa now,¡± Nykka called out. ¡°Walden will face terrible retribution if you contin--¡±


    She was interrupted by the man¡¯s wedged fingers penetrating her abdomen. Lilijoy had no time to warn, only watch in horror.


    ¡°Go on,¡± he said, leaving his hand where it was. ¡°What was that about retribution?¡±


    Nykka¡¯s mouth opened and closed and her body spasmed.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t even a Rank Five, girl,¡± he continued. ¡°Perhaps your clan doesn¡¯t care so much about you as you think.¡±


    Just hold on, was all Lilijoy could think. A few more seconds¡­


    But there was something wrong. She had found blood vessels, but they weren¡¯t made from cells. There were no gaps her flowers could slide into, only tubular lengths of carbon-diamond lattice and what appeared to be gates.


    Nykka made a gurgling gasp, and Lilijoy realized with horror that the man was wiggling his fingers among her organs. He looked over his shoulder at Attaboy with an expression of delight. ¡°See...¡± he began.


    What happened next took place so quickly that it took Lilijoy a moment to interpret. The man jumped away from Nykka in a single reflexive jerk. Only then did she realize she had seen the tip of Nykka¡¯s sword emerge from the man¡¯s back just a millisecond before.


    The man looked down at his front, at the thin slit in the fabric of his shirt. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t see his front, but she could see a hint of clear fluid dampen the fabric at the similar slit on his back. Nykka collapsed to the ground, her sword falling with her.


    ¡°Now that is a surprise,¡± the man said. ¡°Perhaps you are more valuable to your clan than I assumed, if they let you carry a weapon like that.¡±


    In a flash of movement, he leaned down and cuffed the side of Nykka¡¯s head. Lilijoy winced at the sound of bone cracking.


    ¡°Oops,¡± he said. ¡°Well, I suppose fate will decide for me, won¡¯t it.¡±


    Lilijoy could only assume he had meant to leave Nykka unconscious, rather than crush her skull. She was now entirely focused on the navigation of her flowers, searching desperately for access. Some, she sent the long way, pushing through connective tissue and membranes, while others worked at the sphincter-like molecular gates to his blood vessels, trying to pry them open with mechanical force, while also seeking the method by which his own system permitted access.


    The man took a step toward her, slowly, savoring the moment. Then another.


    <I¡¯m going to run> Attaboy messaged. <Draw him off of you. You run once he comes after me>


    She wanted to tell him no, that it would do no good, but he had already turned, was already stepping away as fast as his legs could carry him.


    The man tsked. Then he was upon her, handling her, moving faster than she could respond. Her feet left the ground, and just as she assumed he would carry her as he pursued Attaboy, she realized that was not his plan at all, and she was accelerating, hurtled through the air in a way she had, oddly enough, experienced before at the hands of Rosemallow.


    Her previous experience helped enough to keep her orientation and awareness as she spun, enough to track the man as he ran beneath her. He had already caught Attaboy when she landed, just feet away, in a crushing crouch turned roll, nearly able to spring to her feet, if it weren¡¯t for the piece of rubble that caught her knee and sent her sprawling.


    ¡°There is certainly more to you than meets the eye,¡± the man said, his voice airy. ¡°I figured it was the Sinaloa bitch who was trying to get into my head, but it¡¯s one of you, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Oh shit.


    <Anda, Nykka, if you get this, I¡¯m not going to be able to take this guy as easily as I hoped. Use Anda¡¯s rifle if you can.>


    If you are still alive.


    She was still scheming, still racking her mind for anything, any possibility that would lead to their escape from the situation, no matter how battered, when the man grabbed her again and flung her straight up into the air.


    ¡°She certainly does fly well, don¡¯t you think,¡± she heard him say to Attaboy as the wind roared past her ears. By the time he had finished speaking she hit the uneven ground, doing her utmost to absorb the impact, covering her head with her arms and absorbing her momentum with her legs as best she could. It wasn¡¯t enough so spare her though, not falling into the sharp edged rubble studded with rebar. She felt and heard bones snapping, blood vessels rupturing and muscles tearing beneath her hardy skin.


    ¡°I know!¡± she heard the man say brightly through the fog of impact. ¡°Why don¡¯t I see how many pieces I can cut her into before she hits the ground?¡±


    She felt his hands on her again, gathering her. And then she was flying.


    ***


    ¡°Hold up,¡± Mo said.


    Maria looked back at him, halfway through the soiled curtain that passed as someone¡¯s back door.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°We have to keep going, no matter how much you are hurting.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± he replied.


    Maria pulled herself up, somehow, and he saw an expression emerge on her face that frightened him, just a little. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t, Anthony Corsetti!¡± she said. ¡°No stupid gods are going to make you risk your life again!¡±


    She¡¯ll die, die, die if you don¡¯t, Ixtab whispered.


    ¡°Going back would be suicide!¡± Maria continued.


    Oh, yesssss, Ixtab hissed ecstatically.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Mo said. ¡°Truly, truly sorry. You have to keep running. Please!¡± His voice broke and her face fell.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°No,¡± she said, under her breath, like a sigh.


    He turned his back on her and began, painfully, to run. He ran out of the hovel they were cutting through, onto a street covered with black plastic and old bones, nearly tripping over the same half-dead wretch who had watched them enter with clouded eyes. One of his wounds was open, dripping down his side, but it was the stab to his thigh that hurt the most. He pushed down the pain, pushed down his relief and sorrow that there were no footsteps behind him.


    Now which fucking door¡­ ah.


    They had been cutting through buildings as much as possible, following signs of recent foot traffic, in the vague hope that it would, somehow, throw off pursuit. Mo hadn¡¯t pointed out that if Lilijoy would be able to follow their scent trail to eventually reunify, so would many others. If Maria didn¡¯t understand that, then she would feel a little better, and if she did, then at least they were pretending together.


    Mo was actually surprised by how many people they had passed, some of whom he was now passing for a second time, huddled in apathetic stupor. The people he was lumbering past had already died, only their bodies hadn¡¯t gotten the memo quite yet.


    Another street, another building, and then he was back. He took no precautions, but burst onto the street. He saw Nykka first, lying motionless in a pool of blood, her own, he presumed. Then his heart sank as he saw Anda


    It¡¯s come to this then, old¡­ shit. I guess he wasn¡¯t a friend. Maybe he could have been? Should have been?


    He didn¡¯t stop, as much as his aching everything demanded, because he saw it then, almost glowing where it lay abandoned on the street, Anda¡¯s ridiculous rifle-thing. He heard the voice then, someone talking a ways down the street, and he didn¡¯t think further, but grabbed up the rifle, tearing open another wound in the process, and he felt the tunnel forming around him, so that when he rushed forward and heaved the many-barreled thing up and over a mound of tumbled blocks, he had the man in his sights, such as they were; his eyes hadn¡¯t been great for a while.


    His finger began to squeeze the trigger as the man hurled something high into the air, and while some distant part of his mind was wondering just what it could be, he exhaled. The man drew his sword as the bundle descended, a move too fast for him to process, and he took the shot. Then, two things happened.


    The man flinched as whichever species of diabolical projectile that had resided in that particular barrel flew past his ear. And the sword arced through the air, with a crack that cut the ringing in his ears, and the bundle landed in two places. Only then did Mo realize what the bundle had been, and he slumped onto the sharp edges of the ragged blocks beneath him, as a cry of outrage rang out.


    ¡°I could have done at least four, damn it!¡±


    ***


    And then he was alone.


    It¡¯s not real, Attaboy told himself. Why now, of all times, did he have so much trouble believing it?


    The rage boiling within him was unlike any he had ever felt, in any life. It was undirected, universal. He felt that if someone put a reality deleting button in front of him at that moment, he would press it, with a sneer to match that of the man standing in front of him. The man he had been unable to stop. The man who had just killed Lilijoy.


    But, he thought, but she always gets out of these things. She always gets out of these things.


    He stopped himself before he thought it again. He had just stood there. He could have¡­ when she was in the air he could have¡­ something. Tried anything. Now¡­


    Now her head and her body were in different places. He could see them both.


    ¡°Well,¡± said the man, ¡°that was disappointing. Whoever fired that gun just signed their own death warrant.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Eh, I was probably about to kill them anyway.¡±


    Attaboy couldn¡¯t speak. He trembled with the need to hurt the person in front of him, and was utterly powerless. Anything he said or did would be no more than a momentary amusement, one more tiny bit of satisfaction for the bastard. Even so, he found himself about to move, to hurl himself forward, to do something.


    To get it over with.


    The message that came just before he launched into action was a bit of a surprise.


    <Take it easy, Bro> it said. <I have a plan.>


    Despite himself, he looked over at Lilijoy¡¯s head and body once more, to confirm a reality he desperately wished to deny.


    That was when her head winked at him.


    ***


    Lilijoy took a deep breath and enjoyed the feeling of sun on her face, the scent of grass and clover, the beauty of the lush land that stretched before her. She knew she should be conserving every last bit of energy, for that was what it probably was, the last energy she would ever have, but she needed this, this peaceful place on the Inside, to anchor her.


    There had been a lot of time to think as she flew through the air, first up, then down. Two seconds, roughly. She could remember the moment she hung, poised for just a moment at the top of her flight, oddly peaceful, entirely resolute. She had fought for survival her entire existence with desperate tenacity, and at her core that was who she was, a survivor.


    It was a moment of reflection, hanging there, to contemplate her life. She didn¡¯t even know how long her life had been, exactly, or where she should count it from. Was she even the same Lilijoy who had scavenged for food pellets in the wastes? Or should she begin the count from when she became who she was now? Either way, her life had been short and hard fought.


    On the way down, her thoughts had been more pragmatic. She would leave the world as she had lived within it. In this world, there are miracles still, she had thought as she twisted in the air. What I wouldn¡¯t give to be able to pull out a Nasty Hanging Tentacle Monster this time.


    The sword had passed through her neck so quickly, it was only the change in her fall that let her know it had occurred, the enormously strange sensation of spinning around an impossible axis as she separated from her body. She had prepared for it, this decapitation, as much as anyone could prepare for such a thing, even maneuvered her body in the air as she fell to invite it, and still it was impossible to understand, to be in a place separate from arms and legs and heart.


    She had stopped her heart when he threw her up that second time. Her blood was quiet, held within by her many nanoscale helpers, and full of oxygen, for now anyway. Legend had it that Marie Antoinette had lived for almost thirty seconds after her decapitation, and Lilijoy knew she could beat that record many times over.


    She had a plan. If Attaboy didn¡¯t ruin it by getting killed.


    His gasp of surprise when she winked could have ruined the whole thing, but instead provided just the distraction she needed. It drew the renewed attention of the man just enough for her body to spring into motion. She gathered her broken legs¡­ well, not exactly under her, but gathered them nonetheless, and sprung toward his back. She had never imagined, what seemed so long ago, that her work circumventing her spine and providing a direct connection between her muscles and her brain would be used in quite this way. She had rather thought she would still be attached should a situation calling for it arrive.


    His reaction was just fast enough to begin to spin, to take in the headless body, impossibly still mobile. If her movements were a bit clumsy, due to the change in balance from a missing head, and the bizarre nature of controlling her muscles from a distance, it was more than offset by the man¡¯s surprise and disgust. There was no fear in his eyes, no worry that this impossible thing lurching into frenzied action could hurt him in any way. His upraised arm was tentative, a warding gesture, and she grabbed it with one hand and pulled herself just high enough to slap his face, a blow too feeble to even rock his head, too light to bring a flush to armored skin.


    But not too light to crush a small silicon capsule against his cheek. Crush it and hold in place for the fraction of a second necessary for its inhabitants to find a molecular buffet.


    He hurtled her headless body away, the expression of disgust moving to a sneer at the feeble effort. She watched as that sneer began to slide, to melt along with the side of his face, and if he had last words to say, they were not spoken aloud as his jaw unhinged and quivering lips dissolved in liquid flow.


    Steam rose from his head, now a bubbling cauldron as the heat from the released energy of broken bonds ended his life even before Kurtz¡¯s bugs could. She followed the ghastly situation from her place in the rubble, though she did not forget to reach across her distant body and tear off her prosthetic with her good arm, throwing it to the side as her artificial hand burst into flames from its own share of the ravenous nanomachines.


    Sorry Savitri, she thought.


    A warm breeze danced through the verdant field of her Inside presence, causing a patch of buttercups to dance and wave to her, and she thought of dominoes. What was it the likely-Archon had said? Every action has the whole universe on both sides of it. Why assume the dominoes had stopped falling?


    She didn¡¯t think her current situation on the Outside had been engineered by the Archon, but she couldn¡¯t help wondering if her encounter with the Etalaki and her subsequent talk with him had been tailored for a moment like this, had been a seed planted, this notion that persistence, in some form, was possible.


    Could she heal her Outside body in time? She had her doubts. It was one thing to prolong her existence with her blood bugs and her system, but gross physical repairs took time. Reattaching major veins and arteries might be possible, if everything was in perfect alignment, but bodies were messy, squishy things, and her vines and flowers might take too long to move her tissues into place. She only had about fifteen minutes and she didn¡¯t love her odds. Or even like them. Heck, she probably wouldn¡¯t nod to her odds if she passed them on the street.


    Persistence might be possible, she thought, but would I want that? How coincidental it was, that she had learned the truth of Henry Choi¡¯s transformation just hours ago. His body still lived, was still connected, somehow, but his mind had become something entirely¡­ other. It put the last words of that conversation into a new light. Beware the Sage.


    A warning to be sure, but of him... or his path? Probably both, she decided. I need to stop thinking in binaries.


    With that, she made her decision and turned her attention to Attaboy, who was still in the early stages of reacting to the ugly demise of the high rank Walden guy. He looked like he might have blown a gasket or something, standing frozen with face red and flushed, his mouth agape.


    <So¡­ mind helping me get my head back on?> she messaged him. She didn¡¯t like the notion of remote piloting her one-armed body over to where she was to pick up her head and slap it onto her neck like a particularly heavy hat. Attaboy could help her get things started, then run over and see if there was anything to be done for Anda and Nykka. They were both tough, and equipped with med bugs and blood bugs, so she felt optimistic about their chances, enough to ask Attaboy to help her first.


    While she waited for him to finish his shocked paralysis, she turned her attention to the other half of her endeavors. She knew it was possible to, for lack of a better term, upload herself to the Inside. Unfortunately, the examples she was aware of couldn¡¯t be called successes, not by her, anyway. The Etalaki were mere scraps of sentience, though she didn¡¯t know whether they might have degraded over time. Henry¡­ well, it seemed he had lost his humanity along the way. Or even worse, he kept the worst parts and lost the pieces of himself that kept them in check.


    She remembered all too well the time just after she had passed Eskalia¡¯s glyph of awakening to the Greatwood, when her organic mind had been damaged and disabled, thankfully not beyond recovery. There had been nothing particularly malicious about the experience, just a sense of drifting away, of losing something central, a solar system whose sun had left, leaving the planets to peacefully spin away into the void. She had been able to manage herself, split into two complimentary personalities, until the worst of the crisis was over.


    This situation started much better, in some ways, but the end was certainly worse. If she couldn¡¯t resume adequate blood flow and drainage to her brain, the organic parts would die. She imagined that Stage Two would be able to hang on longer, that she would enter that same state, ungrounded by biology, until the structure of her cells collapsed and left behind a fine lace of crystal. She doubted that it would be robust enough to survive, this hypothetical future material self. Probably vibrations and gravity would knock it apart as soon as her cellular structure started to truly degrade. Her system was designed to power itself off of her biology too. Once that was gone, she would fade and crumble.


    So the problem remained. How could she, in a relatively short span of time, move enough of what made her...herself, across the constraints of bandwidth and into the mind of Guardian? It seemed an impossible problem, and yet it was almost as if¡­ someone¡­ had been preparing the way for her from the beginning.


    What else would a ¡®soul space¡¯ ultimately be for but to contain her essential self? She had been struggling with that question ever since she learned how much more it was than a simple place to decorate, why Henry had designed such a thing into his system. Now, maybe, she was beginning to understand. Perhaps it was what the Etalaki had been missing.


    It didn¡¯t stop there though, for if she were to somehow transmigrate herself to the Inside, she would need a place prepared for her, no doubt, raw and fragile psyche. How fortunate, then, that Nandi had kindly provided just such a thing, her Trial Space. It was still part of him, but he had made it clear that someday, and she had assumed it was in some distant, hypothetical future, but someday, it would be hers, in fact be her.


    It was only seconds, though naturally it felt much longer, before Attaboy responded, jolting into motion with a stoic look on his face, the look of someone about to do something so disturbing that they had no choice but to retreat within themselves. He picked her up gently, with awkward hands that didn¡¯t know just how to hold her decapitated head, and carried her to her body, which she arranged in a lotus position as he approached.


    <That is seriously freaky> he messaged.


    <Just get me in place as best you can, and then I¡¯ll hold myself on while you check on the others>


    He nodded, and carefully lowered her into position, turning his head sideways as he attempted to line everything up.


    <Do you really think..?> he asked.


    Shrugging was emphatically not an option at the moment. <I guess we¡¯ll see> was all she could pass on. <Let''s hope no one else comes for us. I¡¯m not going to be able to move for a while.>


    He grunted, then ran off, as soon as she had her hand in place. Her first order of business was connecting to the physical antenna structures running throughout her body. What she had in her head was fine for normal purposes, but her brush with death due to overheating had taught her well that size mattered, when it came to high intensity transmissions. As she did that, she also brought every other system element she could spare to the gargantuan task of reattaching her head.


    While managing those tasks, she took one, possibly final, look around the landscape of her instanced travel, and then activated Nandi¡¯s Boon. She wondered briefly if there would be some complication from leaving the instanced travel in such a way, and then decided it would be great to have a future in which to worry about such things.


    The last time she had stood in front of the door to Nandi¡¯s Realm, it had done its utmost to discourage her, but now she had an arrangement. It opened for her without complaint, and she moved beyond, into radiance and dimensions beyond her ken.


    ¡°Hi,¡± she said to the mighty intelligence hanging in space before her. ¡°It seems I might need to move in early.¡±


    .


    .


    .

 Book 3: Chapter 60: Floating

    She opened her eyes.


    She was met by blinding light and a wave of disorientation.


    I thought¡­


    The disorientation deepened, met with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She heard voices, familiar, if somewhat strident.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!¡± Nykka was saying.


    ¡°I thought that made it go up?¡± she heard Attaboy reply.


    So I¡¯m¡­ Outside? But¡­


    She checked her system clock. Four days!


    Her memory was, charitably, fuzzy. She remembered going to see Nandi, remembered working against time to save her body, shutting down every part of her that wasn¡¯t absolutely vital. There had been a¡­ choice. She struggled to remember what it had been.


    ¡°Hey, her eyes are open.¡± That was Mo¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Yeah, that keeps happening. Probably some kind of reflex.¡± Magpie?


    Her setting came into focus as her eyes adapted. She was in a small cabin, gray, utilitarian and sparse. But it was full of sky, glorious sky like she had only seen on the Inside, pale blue and painfully bright through outward curving windows. I¡¯m on an airship, she realized, feeling a bit sluggish to have taken so long to put it together. Her thoughts seemed slow and simple. A quick check of her system let her know that she wasn¡¯t imagining things; the vast majority of her augmentations were powered down, in some kind of stasis, and her internal energy readings were as low as she had ever seen.


    But she was alive, and as far as she could tell, reasonably intact.


    Her first attempt to speak didn¡¯t go well. Her throat and tongue were dry and stiff, her lips cracked as a bonus. That was the least of her impediments though, for no sound other than the dry rasp of air issued forth from between her lips. She tried again, and was at least successful in gaining attention.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± said Magpie, now coming into view. ¡°She is awake,¡±


    Magpie looked the same, with her dark hair tightly braided, revealing lighter rows of skin across her scalp. Her face did have a few scars Lilijoy was not familiar with though, light parallel lines crossing on one cheek, just touching beneath her left eye. She was wearing a red and white kimono, of all things. Seeing her made Lilijoy feel like Skria and Jess must be nearby.


    She didn¡¯t want to spend what little energy was left in her system messaging, but her dysfunctional vocal cords left her with little choice. It was either that or pantomime, and since she couldn¡¯t feel her body...


    <Anda? Airship? > She didn¡¯t really need to keep the message short, but she didn¡¯t have the mental energy either.


    Magpie nodded. ¡°Your tall friend made it,¡± she said. ¡°Barely. He stayed behind.¡±


    Lilijoy felt a wave of relief, followed by sadness. There was a twinge of annoyance too, a childish thing. Anda was supposed to be here.


    ¡°As to this lovely craft,¡± Magpie continued, ¡°it wasn¡¯t so hard to get, not with the right connections. It¡¯s a shame you didn¡¯t contact me earlier, could have saved you a lot of trouble from what I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    Dominoes, thought Lilijoy, set to fall one atop the next. Shadow wants me to go north. She didn¡¯t have the energy to appreciate the irony, that she had only been a message away from an airship the entire time. It made her wonder what other plans were in motion, what other opportunities and dangers she had missed by making one decision and not another. It made her wonder just how many webs from how many spiders she was in. Yet here she was, floating through the air, free to go anywhere she wanted, assuming she could convince the others.


    As if summoned by her thought, the others in question had become aware of her return to consciousness and crowded into the small cabin.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± said Nykka, while Attaboy peered around her head, beaming. ¡°You should be dead.¡± The pale girl looked relieved, and Lilijoy could understand why. Without her, Nykka¡¯s options for living past a few months were slim.


    <I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay, teacher> came a message from Maria that made her smile. <I got my antennas working!>


    Lilijoy was doing her best to remain still, afraid that if she moved too much, her head might roll off. Moving probably wasn¡¯t an option regardless, she had no feeling from below her neck, and she suspected that the energy in her muscles had been severely depleted. She would need to get her system running better to make use of her indirect connections to her muscles.


    Her internal status reports were too much to sort through, but she could tell her physical condition was still tenuous, veins and arteries held in place by thin scaffolding, and much of the connective tissue still to be repaired. Her arm was gone, again, melted into its constituent molecules, a heap of goo somewhere in the slums of Guayaquil.


    What did I choose? she wondered again. She was disconnected from the Inside, and probably wouldn¡¯t have the resources necessary to sustain a connection for a while. She knew she needed to eat, to drink, but she was afraid her esophagus wasn¡¯t up to it yet. She could only hope they had something that could be used as a feeding tube.


    Did I really choose this?


    She couldn¡¯t see what she was laying on, could barely see the straps across her chest and legs holding her in place, and that only because she was somewhat propped up. It seemed crazy that they would have begun this journey while she was in this condition. She could only assume her absence from Guayaquil was more important than any other consideration.


    She missed when the others dispersed, though she vaguely remembered concerned voices. Attaboy was still there though. He put a hand to her brow, a tender gesture that she soon realized had another purpose, as his system elements began to flow into her.


    After a minute, he began to speak. ¡°I¡¯ve been cultivating as much as possible, doing what I can to help you.¡± She felt her head clear just a bit as he spoke and his system elements began to reach hers, handing off surplus bits of molecular energy before turning to other tasks. It wasn¡¯t much of a difference, perhaps just enough for her to appreciate just how fuzzy her thinking had been a moment before.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he whispered. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand until I thought you were dead. Reality is what matters. I thought nothing mattered because nothing was real, but I had it backwards.¡± She felt a tear fall on her cheek. ¡°Nothing felt real to me because I wouldn¡¯t let anything matter. So now I understand, just a little better. You matter.¡±


    She had enough energy to reply now, but she waited.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t understand just how sad Atticus was, just how sad I was, and this system¡­ it lets you change yourself, but there¡¯s a loop. The self doing the changing can¡¯t help but perpetuate the problems it wants to change. So I''m trying to do better, but it¡¯s slow. I miss the old world terribly. I miss Mom and Dad, and then I think of Grabby and Mooster and I just feel¡­ sick. What the hell happened to us, Lilijoy? And how did you come out of it all so much better than me?¡±


    He was rambling now, and she could imagine he had done this before, when there was no one to listen. ¡°And then I think of Emily, my other sister, abandoned in another time. I was her big brother. I was supposed to protect her, and I¡¯m a hundred years too late. But I¡¯m not too late to help you. So that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. We¡¯re going to survive this, somehow, this impossibly screwed up world. Survive it, and then make it better, together, and I don¡¯t care who tries to stand in our way.¡±


    <That sounds nice.> she replied.


    ***


    It took three more days before she felt up to going Inside. In that time, she healed enough to be able to eat on her own, though it was still a largely liquid diet. They circled above the clouds, for the most part, content to feel safe from those who might seek to harm them, not ready to venture over open sea or hostile land. Once a day they descended, for supplies or just to relieve the monotony of the cabin.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She didn¡¯t know what would greet her when she logged on, and was a little frightened to find out. It didn¡¯t come as a huge surprise that it was¡­ her.


    ¡°Do you remember,¡± her other self said, ¡°The first time our mind split, when Eskallia messed with us?¡±


    She could never forget, of course. They stood in the instanced travel, as if she had never left, two Lilijoy¡¯s facing each other in the meadow. ¡°So this is like that?¡± she asked, ¡°You¡¯ve been doing your own thing for who knows how long, subjectively, waiting to see if I would make it?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± her other self replied. ¡°I guess you could say I¡¯ve been on my own version of life support, protected by Nandi, so it¡¯s only felt like a few minutes. Do you remember what we chose to do if we both survived?¡±


    She could only shake her head, enjoying the lack of fear that had come to surround such movement on the Outside. She could guess though.


    ¡°We¡¯re not ready for this,¡± her other self said, ¡°Not really. And¡­ it¡¯s against the rules.¡± Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure if she could hear a capitalization or not. ¡°We chose which of us would remain if we both made it. Spoiler, it¡¯s you.¡±


    Her other self smiled sadly. ¡°On the plus side, we know it¡¯s possible now, eventually anyway. I would give you my memories, but honestly, there¡¯s not much there.¡±


    ¡°Can you, anyway?¡± She was burning to know what it was like living as self-perpetuating data on the Inside, even if it wasn¡¯t like anything. She also knew that even a little experience lost would make dying feel worse.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d say that. Here.¡± She held out a flower. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do anything much, so Nandi arranged this. It¡¯s not a lot, but this holds everything I experienced after we separated, and what I am currently experiencing. This way, you can add it to yourself when your system can handle it.¡±


    Lilijoy took the flower and watched as the wind took the girl in front of her, now a cloud of dust, fading as she dispersed. Ixtab would be proud, she thought.


    She walked then, her steps heavy at first, then lighter as her mood recovered. She twisted the stem in her fingers idly, contemplating this conversion of life into memory.


    It wasn¡¯t much longer before the landscape began to look familiar, that rolling hills of dark forest began to converge and the sky began to darken. In the distance, she could see distant lights, fires perhaps, flickering around Academy Town, and then the looming present of the building itself peering over the edge of the fields before her. She had returned. The smell of burning wood was thick on the air, and she felt in turn curious and alarmed as she closed the remaining distance.


    Perhaps it¡¯s some kind of festival? she thought, trying to stave off the fear that something terrible awaited her as she crested the last hill, upon which the Academy itself stood. At first glance, the town was under siege, surrounded by tents and fires. She could see monstrous figures silhouetted against the light here and there, heads covered in bristling horns and spikes.


    Alarmed, she began to run, skirting the encampments as best she could, and made it into the town unseen. The streets were deserted, other than a furtive figure she saw duck into an inn just ahead of her.


    That¡¯s where I¡¯ll get some answers, she thought.


    The first sight that greeted her when she pushed through the heavy oak door would remain with her for some time. Mr. Sennit, his face a bit flushed, wobbled over to her. Behind him, she saw Anda, stein raised, and then Jess, with Skria draped over one shoulder. Attaboy, Nykka and Maria were at a table, just turning to see her enter.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked!¡± said Magpie next to her. ¡°We had a bet that you would...¡±


    She was interrupted at this point by Mr. Sennit. ¡°Poki!¡± he said, gesturing expansively. ¡°It¡¯s so nice to see you at last!¡±


    ¡°But...¡± Lilijoy managed.


    Anda joined them, scooping her into his arms for a quick hug, or what passed as a hug between two people of such different size. ¡°Thank you,¡± he whispered in her ear.


    ¡°What..?¡± she added.


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t expect the orcs to let their newest princess come to the Academy without an escort,¡± Mr. Sennit said. ¡°I just convinced them to make it a little bigger.¡±


    ¡°Like how big?¡± Lilijoy asked, thinking of the campfires ringing Academy Town.


    ¡°Like all of them big! I¡¯d like to see those Corp bastards send their reprobates now,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s going to be some big changes in the Garden, Poki.¡±


    Then the rest of them were there, hugging and greeting and she was swept away, borne aloft on their joy and optimism, floating on gratitude and love.


    Cattail fluff indeed, she thought.


    End Book 3


    <hr>


    Epilogue:


    In her home under a mile of ice, Emily was listening to a report from an old¡­ companion. As always, the experience was bitter-sweet, evoking memories of love, and innocence, lost. She turned off the recording.


    I¡¯m sorry I abandoned you, Shadow, she thought. I¡¯m sorry for what became of you.


    Actions had consequences after all. The decision to separate herself from the Inside, from the Outside too, as best she could manage, might not have been the best course of action, but at the time, it had seemed the only way to gain protection, to gain perspective.


    When you¡¯re being tossed by the winds of fate, find shelter, she thought to herself. When you are a mere piece in a larger game, leave the board.


    She was under no illusions that she had truly escaped the gravity of her past, but stretching that umbilical of causality as far as it could possibly go had been her best option. The only way she could see the board was to get as far away from it as possible. Yet distance posed its own problems; trading myopia for its opposite meant that now she could see, but not touch.


    ¡°Everything is within our parameters,¡± Shadow had said. ¡°It is time.¡±


    Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the large, circular hatch to her living quarters. It rested as it nearly always did, half open, leaving a half-moon of space to the corridor through the ice beyond, making the knock a simple courtesy granted to an old woman by her hosts.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± the young man said. These days, one could never be sure, but the truly young tended toward a certain optimism of tone and lacked complexity in their faces. Emily, like others her age she had met, had allowed herself to age externally, long past issues of vanity as applied to physical appearance, but not perhaps, past a different vanity, one of status, of¡­ differentiation. Those who appeared old now were either too weak and poor to choose, or too wise and powerful to care.


    She looked up at the young man, one of many Teslites who shared her home under the ice. The last few generations had been shaped by their world, though the nanobots that teemed within their bodies kept deviations to a minimum. ¡°Thank you, ~N-23^,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    And she was ready, ready for the next stage in her long life, ready to return to the board, this time as a player.


    It was all going according to plan.


    <hr>


    Epilogue:


    He opened his eyes.


    He was still processing what he had absorbed from his long neglected splinter. He himself was a splinter, of course, suffering under a certain illusion of separation, and he looked forward to the day when he might be absorbed in turn. It was a hazard of being too large, this constant churn of fragmentation, existential pain exceeded only by the constant battles within himself between numb oblivion and the agony of awareness.


    Embodiment was the ultimate proof that suffering was attachment. Here, in the hellish world of his past, were all the things he most wished to deny. The bodies of his wife, his coworkers and friends stood around him, flesh tombstones, memorials of his mistakes. On the Inside, he sustained what was left of their true selves, decanted from his crude prototype of a soul space like alchemical experiments. He had left a cord for those he could, whether umbilical or astral he still wasn¡¯t entirely sure, leading back to their bodies like Ariadne¡¯s twine, in the hopes that some day¡­


    So who was he now? Certainly not the Sage, not until he was gratefully subsumed once more. Nor was he what the pathetic remnant in this body had called itself, Mooster, of all things, a name his closest friends in college had called him. It had taken weeks for his system to prepare the way for his arrival, weeks of laying layer upon layer of crystal channels through all the spaces where neurons had once thrived, of repairing damaged tissues, coaxing a damaged body back to health to support the enormous energy demands of the new structures housed within.


    The thing that was Mooster was long gone now, the clotted mess of disgusting dreaded hair and beard now a pile in the corner, the scarred tissues repaired to some extent. He remembered there being a reason why this state of decrepitude had been allowed to persist, beyond sheer neglect, once the factory-mine had come by with its life-giving gifts, but his higher self hadn¡¯t seen fit to include the memories.


    So, no Sage, no Mooster. Could he go back to being Henry?


    It was disconcerting, this sudden desire for a label. Why did he even need one? He had spent over a hundred years struggling for this moment, not counting the lost decades where his only goal was survival. One hundred years in Outside time, dozens of subjective lifetimes, spent grooming human society for¡­


    He shook his head in irritation, for the thought wouldn¡¯t come. He knew that he was just a fragment, but surely he should know this. He knew he had his reasons for manipulating and threatening the Outsiders, forcing and convincing them to re-order their society into clans. He remembered he had an enemy, or something like it, an opposing force that sought to undo his work, to unify where he sought division. He remember early struggles, being forced to act in ways that threatened to undermine the core of his very being.


    He sighed, the gesture returning to him naturally with his body. He was no longer able to see the big picture, let alone understand it. He felt small, diminished, and an unfamiliar emotion crept out of the recesses of his biology. Doubt.


    He banished it hurriedly, ashamed of the weakness. He was part of something far greater, and plans were in motion. As an incarnation of his greater self he only needed to do his part, to suffer this exile in his abandoned shell.


    I wonder if I really understood how painful it would be to finally face them, he thought, looking at the devastated forms of his own small clan. I wonder if that¡¯s why the previous fragment in this body was so dysfunctional.


    He was struck by a sudden urge to leave the foul den and sit outside, to commune, to escape, and was alarmed to find he had begun to move in that direction. He traced the impulse to parts of his organic brain still not fully integrated, habits ingrained deep below conscious thought.


    I¡¯ll have to see about that, he thought. For now, though, he had other concerns.


    It was time for him to do his part. It was time to put this world straight, to undo the sins of his past. No longer would he sit on his mountaintop and manipulate from a distance, trapped in an endless cycle of regret. It was time to act.


    It was all going according to plan.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 4: Chapter 1: Present

    Prelude:


    A scavenger''s life is not an easy one. Miguel had been separated from his family for days now, his stock of food bars nearly gone. He scrambled ahead through the dry brush of the desolation, his hands and knees scraped and torn, scabbed and oozing from encounters with rock and thorn too numerous to count. He thought about turning back.


    Back to what though? His brother, his mother were all that were left of the group that had set forth from their little town. They were older, stronger, and surely headed to the same place he was. Paradise.


    It was only a legend, a myth left behind by those who came before, or, as he thought it through, those who left before. Surely they had found it, for not one of them returned. It had been another time of struggles, of starvation and violence, just like what he had left behind, and more than half of their small settlement had left, seeking a better life, his great-grandfather among them.


    No, he thought, not a better life. A perfect life.


    Miguel could hardly wait. There was something amazing, just over the horizon, he could feel it.


    A howl echoed in the distance, cast around the scrubby hills and ravines, reminding him that he needed to be more concerned with what was behind him than fantasies of what lay ahead. It was joined by another, and then another. The wild dogs of the wastes that had separated him from his family had picked up his trail again, he feared. Most of his injuries had been gained during his first, frantic flight from their little camp, and since then, he had felt safe enough to rest several times, only to be forced into motion once again by the distant calls of the pack.


    It was difficult to tell how close they were but his body reacted as if they were on his heels. Heart pounding, he picked up his pace, moving recklessly over loose rock in the dying light. He had escaped them before, and he would do it again. If only he had found water during the long day of travel, he would be in better condition, but his swollen tongue and cracked lips didn¡¯t stop him from putting one foot in front of the other.


    What did stop him was a steep bank, almost a cliff, where the walls of the ravine he was following had collapsed. He attempted to climb, grabbing at protrusions he could barely see now, and fell backward in a shower of gravel and fist-sized stones. He ignored the new pains in his hip and elbow in favor of a desperate rolling crab walk as still larger boulders began to tumble around him.


    By the time it was over, he stood back some distance, coughing in the cloud of dust and patting himself down to reassure himself that his body was in one piece. Cold sweat trickled down his sides and carved channels on his encrusted face.


    He picked up a chunk of rock and headed back the way he had come. Perhaps there was still time to backtrack before the dogs caught up to him. He ran, wagering time against safety, and lost when his foot caught on something and his thin body plunged into hardscrabble and thorns, scraping skin on grit and knocking his wind away. He lay there for a moment, and then another, trying to find the energy that had just fueled him.


    When he did pull himself to one knee, he saw it, a single green eye reflecting what light there was, surrounded by a shaggy form that blended with the twilight.


    He froze, realizing that he had dropped his rock when he fell. As best he could tell, the dog was a big one, probably weighing as much as he did. It stared at him, motionless, silent. Seconds passed. His scrapes burned and his legs quivered and he forced his breath shallow despite his spinning head, knowing that any movement on his part could trigger the last moments of his life.


    The painful standoff stretched and he began to wonder if something was wrong with the animal, if it had the foaming disease or something similar eating away at its brain. It wasn¡¯t growling or snuffling. Its body was as still as he hoped his was. There was only that one eye that let him know he wasn¡¯t imagining terrors in the night. He wondered where the others were.


    Then he heard it. Footsteps. A person was walking towards them. He wanted to warn them away, but his throat was closed, his mouth too dry to move. And though he knew it was wrong, some part of him hoped that, just perhaps, whoever was approaching might draw away the dog¡¯s attention enough for him to escape.


    ¡°Boy,¡± came a voice. It sounded like he imagined his own might if he were forced to talk right then, if a bit lower, dry and raspy. The word was more identification than address, a comment on his existence. He remained silent, afraid that any response would break the stillness that had preserved him, then felt a wave of relief as the dog backed away, still utterly silent, its eye never leaving him.


    In its place came a man. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid,¡± the man said. There was more command than comfort in his voice. Miguel tried to make out his features, but there was only an outline against the dull red horizon, an outline soon joined by the dog and¡­ others?


    ¡°Boy,¡± the man said again. ¡°Would you like to become part of something bigger than yourself?¡±


    Miguel¡¯s heart couldn¡¯t decide if it was going to leap from his chest from fear or excitement. Was this it? Would this man take him to the paradise he sought? What about his family?


    In the end, he could only nod, a motion he had to repeat when the first attempt emerged as no more than a twitch.


    ¡°Very well,¡± said the man. He turned and began to walk away. Miguel didn¡¯t know what to do, so he called out, his voice every bit as weak and raspy as he had feared.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The man stopped. ¡°That is¡­ a good question,¡± he said. With his back turned, Miguel could barely make out the words. ¡°You may call me¡­ Teacher.¡±


    <hr>


    Chapter 1: Present


    The information wars marked the end of the flowering of human renaissance. The very tools that enabled us to create new worlds undermined the reality of our own, as if reality were itself a limited resource, diluting as it flowed into newly opened spaces, an osmotic flow from greater to lesser concentration.


    - Henry Choi, private writings


    ¡°Well of course there are gaps, my dear,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Gaps and then some. There are still those who refuse to believe anything on there on general principal.¡±


    It was an unsettling revelation, to say the least, and Lilijoy felt almost as if the solid ground beneath her was moving, as if she had been at sea for her entire life and only just realized.


    ¡°But it¡¯s been so useful!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ everything I¡­ know?¡±


    Marcus raised his cup and an eyebrow. ¡°Well,¡± he ventured, ¡°I didn¡¯t say they were right. Truthfully, the people most skeptical of the internet archive tend to be none too bright, or rather, just smart enough to mistake a grain of truth for a beach. Most of what is on there was added well before the disinformation age.¡±


    Lilijoy just sat back shaking her head. ¡°Am I the only one who didn¡¯t know this?¡±


    With a faint smile, Marcus shrugged. ¡°Of course not, but among those privileged enough to grow up with some kind of education, it¡¯s a fact of life that no longer bears mentioning. Water is wet, the sky is brown, and you can¡¯t trust the archive.¡±


    Lilijoy had come to love the time she spent with the former alchemist. The last few weeks had been a time of deep introspection for her, brought on by her brush with¡­ well, not death, exactly. A threshold of some kind. A selvage, a brush with an unraveling of all she held dear. It had forced her to confront a question she suspected was far beyond her small experience as a thinking being.


    Should she remain human?


    It was the kind of question that contained its own answer, a quintessentially human question, informed by the brief memories of the portion of her psyche that had transcended. To ask the question meant she wasn¡¯t ready, and she had come to the realization that she barely understood what she was asking.


    It had been Attaboy who had helped her the most in the days following. The traumatic events in the slums of Guayaquil had changed him in ways that were still unfolding. He had found a center, a new stability in the way he moved through the world that turned him from a well-meaning, well-loved irritation and distraction to a source of support. How much of his new maturity came from Atticus she didn¡¯t know. In fact, she wasn¡¯t sure there was a distinction any more.


    She turned her thoughts back to the conversation. Staying in the moment and giving her full attention to one thing at a time had been one of her projects lately, as she realized that just because she could split her mind and focus six different ways didn¡¯t mean that she should. She wasn¡¯t very good at it. But Attaboy had made the point to her that if meaning was the true center of reality, ensuring that experiences were fully savored and that she was fully present in the moment might be a good way to go. It was very much a work in progress.


    ¡°So, tell me more about the disinformation age,¡± she said.


    Marcus gave a brief chuckle. ¡°It started when our ability to create disinformation outweighed our ability to perceive truth. Some would say that has always been the case, but among what passes for historians these days, we¡¯ve agreed, disagreeably, I might add, that it was sometime in the first few decades of the twenty first century. From that point forward, the content and quality of the internet archive drops precipitously.¡±


    Lilijoy remembered when she had been trying to research Henry and Gabrielle Choi. I guess that explains why I could barely find anything.


    ¡°It seems that most of the disputed content was filtered out somehow during the archiving process. No one knows if it was Guardian or some other group from before the Rise responsible for the archive¡¯s modern form,¡± Marcus continued. Lilijoy always enjoyed turning him loose on a topic and listening to him talk. She had begun visiting him regularly out of a desire to forge stronger bonds with the people who were important to her, but she suspected he got almost as much out of their visits as she did.


    It must be lonely at times, she thought, surrounded by people who already know what you do. I wish I could get him to teach at the Academy, or maybe somewhere like it. Somewhere people from all backgrounds could access.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    She filed that idea away among other improbabilities, and contemplated the implications of what he was telling her. In a sense, the world had ended much sooner than she had realized, fracturing and dissolving into a thousand silos of incompatible fact as billions of humans across the Earth realized that they could only truly trust the evidence of their immediate senses.


    This explained the many, often incompatible geoengineering attempts, the breakdown of public science and the horrific political fractures that toppled nation after nation. Of course, as she thought about it, she couldn¡¯t verify that any of that had happened any more than those who had been alive at the time. Maybe Australia was just fine.


    Marcus only knew what those who had been alive at the time told him, as he had been born after the Rise of Guardian. He told her of entire government agencies devoted to churning out propaganda indistinguishable from reality and similar agencies devoted to countering it. He spoke of an encryption arms race as quantum computing became more and more accessible. Armies were defeated, nations invaded and genocides perpetrated. Or were they?


    Through it all, there were those who fought valiantly against the tsunami of fakery and fabrication, generating new methods and protocols to hold back the tide undermining consensus reality. Perhaps the internet archive was one of those efforts, perhaps not, but it did nothing to change the fact that entire generations grew up distrusting everything they couldn¡¯t touch and passed that wisdom on at a nearly genetic level. She made a note to ask Attaboy about it soon. Atticus was born in 2056, and the memories Attaboy had inherited from him went up to 2075. Surely he would have insights.


    What all of this meant for her personally was more difficult to understand. Her connection to the archive was profound; vast sections of it were cached within her, forming something close to a parallel long-term memory. It had shaped her thinking, her very being in a way. Now what was she to think?


    She could console herself a bit in knowing that the vast majority of it was sound. Her own experiences had verified the data she drew upon time and time again. The gaps and holes in the archive had never been a secret either, so in the end she decided nothing had really changed. Every human mind contained errors, gaps and falsehoods; hers just had more, hopefully in reasonable proportion to truth.


    All too soon, her time in Marcus¡¯ English garden came to a close and she returned to the camp they had set up in a reasonably hospitable section of terrain near the headwaters of the Amazon River. As much as she had wanted to begin the expedition to Taos immediately, it was clear to all that they needed time to prepare. In theory, the airship could make the trip in a matter of days, but everyone in their little group understood that theory was a terrible basis for a journey of thousands of kilometers over hostile territory, water and ice.


    Never mind that they had no idea what would await them at the other end. Glaciers didn¡¯t form overnight, but it was entirely possible that over a hundred years of accumulated snowfall was doing a pretty good glacier impression in what had been the southwestern United States. They needed to prepare for weeks of survival in subzero temperatures, prepare for hostile interception by a variety of airships, drones, and other aircraft, and most of all, prepare for the unknown.


    It seemed reasonable to wait until Lilijoy was completely healed, until Attaboy had made more progress with his skin bugs, and until Maria had a good enough grasp on her system to regulate her metabolism for the cold and generally take care of herself. What they were going to do about Mo, she wasn¡¯t sure. His ability to forewarn them of danger could be valuable, though lately his gods had been relatively quiet, but even if the trip went smoothly, the cold would pose a huge threat to his already marginal health.


    Since when have I started worrying about Mo¡¯s health? she wondered.


    Shrugging that aside, she consulted her Tao System status. Her cranium and rib cage were coming along nicely, as far as Stage Six went. She was doing her best to allow for flexibility and for her body¡¯s continuing growth, but she felt that her most vital areas were well protected, unless another Rank Ten popped by to hack at her with a sword with an adaptive monomolecular edge. Pairing an instrument of such surpassing sharpness with superhuman strength seemed like massive overkill to her, and she could only imagine what a battle between two warriors of that level might look like. In some ways, she thought it might be as if they were hardly augmented at all, their technological advantages canceling out, a return to a simpler time where all that mattered was skill and the quality of one¡¯s weapon.


    She had a few projects running on the side to protect herself in a future encounter, but if she never had to face someone like that again, she wouldn¡¯t be disappointed.


    At least one good thing had come from their battle with the still unnamed member of the Walden Clan who had assaulted them. Attaboy had, somehow, had the presence of mind to retrieve a grisly trophy from the field of battle, probably in the process of taking the man¡¯s sword. Though the evil bugs had dissolved much of the man¡¯s head and upper torso by the time they broke down, his limbs remained intact, and Attaboy had removed a single finger.


    Now, she had samples of nearly all the bugs she would need to remodel her entire body, to make her circulatory system robust and impenetrable, to replace her tendons, ligaments and muscles with flexible polymer chains a hundred times more powerful than the original biology. She had already started on her veins and arteries, experimenting with the fine, fibrous network of channels which put a greater premium on pressure and velocity than volume, almost like switching out traditional plumbing for pneumatic tubes which sent packets of nanomachines from place to place as needed.


    The muscles would have to wait, for not only did she need to complete the process of reinforcing her skeletal structure to bear the vastly increased force of stronger muscles, she would also need to have a flawless circulatory system to feed them the energy they would need to function. She felt that she could adapt her existing wireless nervous system as she went, though she was still a bit worried about EMPs or other outside interference.


    Maybe I could use fiber optics? Oh, well, another problem for future Lilijoy.


    Present Lilijoy had enough on her plate, especially now that she was trying to remain present for all her activities. Taking time to fully immerse herself in cultivation rather than relegating it to a sub-system within her mind was slowing her down considerably, but it was time well spent, a way to retain her connection to her own growth and essential humanity. She hadn¡¯t realized how much stress and self-alienation was occurring by changing herself so rapidly, not until she was forced to slow down and really consider the implications. What was the point of growing so fast, if the person at the end of the process was no longer recognizable to themselves? It was a form of subtle self destruction, she had decided, and continuity was a vital component to existence, only noticeable when it was lacking, like air or water.


    Similarly, she was limiting herself to one world at a time whenever possible, though not strictly. Being in two places at once was useful at times, but it had also set her apart from her friends and companions in subtle and not so subtle ways. She wasn¡¯t sure how much was her imagination, but since she had begun this experiment in self-nerfing she felt less alien, less alienated really, with both her Inside and Outside friends. The temptation to split her awareness was always there though, whenever she felt bored or frustrated in either world, but she had come to realize, through studying the whirling multidimensional representation of her essential self that comprised her soul vortex, that those emotions were a form of friction, resistance with which she could train her will. If she avoided them, she would be like someone ruined by wealth, slothful and indolent, spoiled by their own resources and weaker for it.


    She opened her eyes to the week light filtering through the window panels of her tent. They had completed several provisioning runs to a variety of communities of sufficient size to have the kinds of supplies they needed. They kept a low profile, taking the airship most of the way at a low altitude, then completing the last few miles on foot. Lately, they had taken to splitting up, leaving some behind at the camp while the rest ventured in search of cold weather gear and anything else they thought might come in handy. This time, Lilijoy and Attaboy had stayed behind.


    The tents had been a real find, made from a material, multiple materials really, that captured many types of ambient energy and turned it back into heat or light as required. They had been living in them for almost a week now, thankful they no longer needed to choose between the confines of the airship cabin and the rudimentary shelters they had created when they first chose their camp site.


    Now, they only needed appropriate clothing. The area they were in could get quite cold, but nothing like what they expected to face in the far north, and they had been forced to place a custom order.


    <How¡¯s it going?> she sent to Nykka.


    <Smooth. We¡¯re almost back.>


    Nykka seemed the least affected by their collective near-death experience. Whatever armor she had built around herself growing up in Sinaloa had served her well, or perhaps it was simply another trauma added to a huge pile, a stone dropped onto a mountain. Lilijoy had been working closely with her to learn as much as she could about the Suenos System, which degraded very rapidly by design, leaving Nykka dependent on a regular supply. Fortunately, making enough to sustain her was not a huge burden.


    Unfortunately, they had yet to find a way to modify the nanomachines so that they wouldn¡¯t break down after three months or so. The little critters were designed with obsolescence in mind at a mechanical-molecular level, and neither of them had a deep enough understanding of the chemistry involved to make them more robust. According to Nykka, the entire Sinaloa Clan and its associates were in a similar predicament, though different versions of the system had different rates of decay, and the only person who held the secret was Doctor Quimea.


    It was a diabolic method of social control, an entire society of addicts dependent on one person for their fix. Lilijoy couldn¡¯t imagine the suffering that would unfold if something were to happen to Quimea. She felt quite sure that he hadn¡¯t made arrangements to reveal the secret in the event of his untimely death. She wondered if the other clans knew, if they had plans to assassinate him and take out Sinaloa in one fell swoop.


    They must be worried about Guardian¡¯s reaction, she decided. Or maybe there are other factors I don¡¯t know about. Quimea has had decades to strengthen his position; he probably has all kinds of mutually assured destruction strategies in place.


    She wondered if what had happened to Marcus¡¯ Caribe Clan wasn¡¯t some kind of message or demonstration to the other clans. Quimea¡¯s role in that was unclear, though Marcus held that his manipulations were the driving force behind the experiments that had prompted Guardian to annihilate the clan.


    Thirty minutes later she stood on a small hill overlooking a plain of hardy scrub, watching the airship approach. There was no particular suspense in the moment, as she had confirmed that Magpie and Nykka had picked up their order without any trouble, and that Mo and Maria had enjoyed a day on the town. With that, the last of the supply runs was done. There was nothing stopping them from leaving tomorrow, if they wanted.


    Nothing except Anda. She hadn¡¯t seen the Maasai warrior in person since the attack, though they spent time together in virtual spaces and the Inside once in a while. He had spent the past weeks recovering from his injuries and repairing his relationship with Renaissance. She felt a bit like he also wanted a break from her, or at least the stress that seemed to follow her around like a cloud, and was taking advantage of the fact that there were others to carry the load. If that was the case, she could hardly blame him. He had his own life, and traveling back and forth across the continent with a thirteen-year-old had to get tiresome.


    She just really wanted him to come to Taos with them. Ostensibly, this was because she hoped to find safer ways for him, and the others, to develop their systems, but if she was honest, it was also because she wouldn¡¯t feel nearly as secure without him around. She could tinker with her emotions all she wanted, but Anda had been a constant for her since the beginning and it was hard to imagine the epic journey to come without him by her side. Somehow, all her escapades on the Inside didn¡¯t count, whether it was because she was still partly Outside for many, or just because she had a bias toward her original reality, she couldn¡¯t say.


    The airship came to a stop, as much as an airship does when it isn¡¯t tied down, waggling ever so slightly in a battle between the cold breeze flowing off the highlands and automated steering as it held position with the cabin a few feet from the ground. It had no fans as such, but the same kind of sonic wave-guide system some of the hovercars used. She could feel the dull pulse of the waves it created in her bones, some kind of infrasonic pseudo-solitons pushed out by flat nacelles mounted on the sides of the bulbous disc that contained the lifting gas.


    She wasn¡¯t forced to reckon with her current incomprehension of the technologies involved for long before the hatch popped open and Magpie jumped out. She waved when she saw Lilijoy.


    ¡°We brought back a present for you!¡± she announced as she loped easily across the rough terrain. Coming to a stop in front of Lilijoy, she continued, ¡°Well, for all of us, really, but he wanted it to be a surprise for you.¡±


    Her momentary confusion dissipated as she saw Anda lower himself from the hatch, wearing a large pack on his back. She couldn''t stop a huge smile from spreading across her face.


    Now we¡¯re ready to go, she thought.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 4: Chapter 2: Itinerate

    ¡°So how does this usually work?¡±


    Lilijoy looked at the easy bake oven, the small molecular manufacturing unit that Anda had brought with him. She had thought it lost in the chaos of escaping Guayaquil, but it turned out he had stashed it away for later retrieval. It looked exactly as it had, except for a small blue light shining on the top right corner. He had also brought a radiant power source.


    Anda shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s very simple. Put feedstock in, perform the required chicken dance...¡± he broke off as he saw her expression.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling more relaxed,¡± she said.


    He smiled at her. ¡°I had much to process, it is true. But to answer your question with the seriousness it deserves, it really is simple. This part of it, at any rate. You simply put your hand on the top, like so, and deliver the jade.¡±


    ¡°As in slip?¡±


    He nodded, ¡°Just so. They can actually take a variety of forms, but essentially it''s an object on the Inside that stays with your system as data, if it¡¯s in your inventory when you log out. The tricky part, or what can be tricky, is obtaining the jade in the first place. For that, you need to buy from a vendor, or do your homework on the Inside. Naturally, formulas for common items are easy to obtain, and quite affordable, but purchasing something like the jade for a blood pill would cost a couple thousand credits, and pills for higher ranks are unobtainable in most cases.¡±


    She took a moment to ponder the Goldbergian elegance of the system. Ingredients gathered, rituals performed, all the arcane processes of Inside alchemy, in order to produce a one-time-use formula represented as a jade slip that could be used on the Outside, provided you had a molecular manufacturing unit of some kind.


    ¡°Does the Inside part of this correspond to the product, or is it arbitrary?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Some of both, perhaps more of the former, in a loose, magical kind of way,¡± Anda replied. ¡°The original formulas, ingredients, proportions and whatnot, are closely guarded secrets, though many of them have become common knowledge over the years, or at least the general outlines of them. Blood pills usually have the blood of some magical beast or another as a starting point for example. It has layers too, I¡¯m sure you could learn much more about that from Marcus, so that high-level alchemists can access the actual molecular designs and become chemists again, gaining the ability to customize and improvise.¡±


    Lilijoy¡¯s mind was buzzing with ideas. ¡°What about actual Inside objects, or creatures? Is there any way to copy them over?¡±


    Anda chuckled, ¡°That would be something, wouldn¡¯t it? No one has discovered such a method, if it exists at all. Weapons and such often have corresponding formulas, which allow them to be recreated Outside. That sword Attaboy has been waving around is an example of that, I¡¯m sure. It probably has a twin on the Inside somewhere. I think we can all be grateful that living beings can¡¯t be created.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Lilijoy jumped in, ¡°I¡¯m sure the clans would have run wild with that. There¡¯d be armies of ogres riding saw-backed lions all over the place.¡±


    Still, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder what might be possible for her, for the Tao System. What would it be like, to blur the lines still further between Inside and Outside? Shadow had already found a way to affect events in both worlds, and the oracle stones allowed information to travel back and forth directly. Could an Insider, someday, step forth and explore the Earth?? It would only be fair, she thought.


    Out of curiosity, she placed her hand on the top of the boxy device, and immediately felt her system engage with it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a jade for another arm on you?¡± she asked Anda. ¡°Just kidding. I¡¯m going to grow it back, so there¡¯s no point anyway.¡±


    ¡°How long will it take, do you think?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Too long,¡± she replied, ¡°but I have a short term solution, kind of.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow and she beckoned him closer.


    ¡°Look carefully,¡± she said, holding up her left arm, which ended in a smooth stump just past the elbow. Anda could see nothing at first, but then there was a stirring under the smooth skin, dark lines converging to a tiny point which swelled into a tiny angular protrusion with a metallic sheen. After another couple seconds, a blade that would have been about right for a young field mouse had formed.


    ¡°The world¡¯s sharpest toothpick!¡± Lilijoy said with pride. ¡°Courtesy of Nykka¡¯s sword. Unfortunately, the little guys that form it have very strong opinions about the angles of their bonds. I had hoped I could make a working metal hand, but it seems like sharp and pointy is the main thing in their wheelhouse. Eventually I''ll make enough to form real blades.¡±


    She returned her attention to the easy bake oven, while Anda contemplated her new ability to grow tiny, tiny swords. The interface with the device wasn¡¯t visual; there was no text or graphics. Instead, it was a subtle sensation of readiness, that the machine was waiting for her to deliver something, a jade, she assumed.


    Hmm. You¡¯re going to make this difficult, aren¡¯t you? she mused. I need to get hold of some jades to study.


    ¡°You can make a sword anywhere on your body?¡± Anda asked.


    ¡°Theoretically,¡± she replied. ¡°Once I have enough, and as long as I can anchor them to bone. I could make a pretty mean hedgehog.¡±


    Saying that made her think of Professor Anaskafius.


    Anda cleared his throat, an uncharacteristic sound. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering something,¡± he said. ¡°Are you absolutely set on doing...¡± he waved in the general direction of the airship, ¡°...this, now? Even another month or two would make a substantial difference.¡±


    Lilijoy looked up at him. ¡°There¡¯s a clock counting down, somewhere, that¡¯s all I know. It¡¯s like Sarah said in her letter, there¡¯s a choice looming and everything is going to come down to one pathetically small pile of brain cells and the problem is, I¡¯m not ready. But it¡¯s even worse because it¡¯s not me, it¡¯s Attaboy, probably. But Sarah thought there was an answer, if she just had more time. She thought the answer was on the Inside, but what if it isn¡¯t? What if it¡¯s out here, up there?¡± She pointed north with her needle-sized sword.


    Anda nodded, slowly. ¡°I just wanted to check in. I¡¯ll spare you any lectures I may or may not have prepared.¡± He grinned, ¡°And maybe my intentions aren¡¯t entirely pure. There are two things I truly hate in this world, ice and flying, and this trip is going to be nothing but.¡±


    ¡°At least there won¡¯t be geyser squid in New Mexico,¡± said Lilijoy, guessing where his aversion to ice might originate.


    ¡°I certainly hope not,¡± Anda replied. ¡°But there aren¡¯t respawns either.¡±


    ***The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    They were ready to leave shortly after that, tents packed and belongings stowed with relative ease, given that most of what their possessions and provisions were already on the airship. The mid-afternoon sun draped over the lower third of the sky, stretching across rolling bands of ocher and umber as Lilijoy watched the campsite recede from view through the cabin window. She felt no particular nostalgia for the place, but the absence of the feeling felt like a void, and made her wonder if she would ever be able to put down roots, to have a place that would generate such a fond attachment, on the Outside, anyway.


    We¡¯re finally on our way, she thought, doing her best to dilute her apprehension with the excitement of the journey¡¯s first step.


    With seven of them, the airship was noticeably cramped. The cabin was designed for three people, with a small bathroom in the rear, and an even smaller cockpit partly sectioned off by a flimsy folding door at the front. Thankfully, all of them but Mo would be taking turns standing watch and piloting while the rest went Inside. Mo was stuck without an escape, other than watching the antics of his gods and sleeping, but he seemed comfortable enough with his role as human warning system.


    When the ground vanished into haze and the windows filled with unrelenting tan, she turned to where Magpie and Nykka were softly conversing. The two of them got along quite well, for the most part.


    ¡°So I hear they finally have a new Head at the Academy,¡± Nykka was saying.


    Magpie rolled her eyes. ¡°The professors have been gossiping for weeks. Evidently, they don¡¯t have any say in the matter, so it came as a surprise to them when it finally happened.¡±


    ¡°I imagine they got used to.. call it, hands free management over the years.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The place could do with a shake-up.¡±


    Listening to them talk, Lilijoy thought back over her last few weeks of Inside activities. It had begun calmly enough, and then gotten¡­ interesting, in the way things did so often when she was involved.


    ***


    Three weeks ago:


    Lilijoy wished sleep was still a thing for her.


    It¡¯s been, what? Three weeks since I slept? Not counting passing out after decapitation.


    Sleep framed one¡¯s sense of time and the passage of days in a way that was hard to replace. She didn¡¯t miss losing the time, but she missed the activities on either end. She finally had nice, soft pillows and blankets, and no need to snuggle into them and just let go, to enjoy the warmth and the slow drift into dreams. She could still go through the motions, but without biological imperative her mind had too much going on to let go of the day. She could put herself to sleep, but it felt too strange to program herself like some twentieth-century alarm clock, just to capture those few moments of bliss on either side.


    It changed her relationship with her room too, giving it the feel of a waiting room or holding chamber where she kept herself when she had nothing better to do. It was where she kept her stuff too, she supposed, such stuff consisting of a single burnbalm plant that had somehow survived despite neglect. She had spent some time repairing that relationship earlier, and they were on good terms again.


    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s more your room than mine,¡± she said to the plant.


    Unlike her, Skria and Jess still needed to sleep, and after the celebration at the bar in town, the three of them had made their way back to the Academy, surrounded by an honor guard of orcs that took them to the front entrance. After greeting Mumo, they made their way through familiar halls and stairs rendered slightly foreign by the intensity of their recent experiences. Her friends had gone to their rooms, and she went to hers, not having anything better to do.


    There weren¡¯t many people around, as the Academy was now in the middle of an experience term. It was late at night, on top of that, so even if Professor Anaskafius was in his quarters, he was probably asleep. She wasn¡¯t in the mood to read, and while she had a great deal of thinking to do, her system was still quite low on energy. Given how often her introspection led to internal events of seismic proportion, she felt it best to refrain from deep contemplation.


    She looked out the window at the mist strewn training fields and arenas stretched out far below. While she felt restless, it wasn¡¯t the kind of feeling that would be assuaged by losing herself in physical activity. Finally, she sighed.


    Fine. To the Mystic Library I go.


    Back down long, stone corridors and endless oak doors, down stairs winding and straight, she made her way to the Mystic Library. Or where the library was supposed to be. When she arrived at the intended destination, she was greeted by a blank wall, with no indication of where the library might have gone, or acknowledgment that it was missing in the first place.


    Getting a real Hogwarts vibe here, she thought. You''d think they could leave a sign or something.


    With nothing better to do, she set off in search of someone to ask, figuring she would head to Mumo¡¯s office and hope she met someone nocturnal before she went that far out of her way. Three deserted hallways later, she had resigned herself to a conversation that was sure to be depressing, when she saw a furry figure walking toward her.


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± she called, when the wolf-kin was within hailing distance. ¡°Do you know what happened to the library?¡±


    He turned yellow eyes on her. ¡°Not really. Stuff¡¯s been moving lately and no one knows why.¡±


    He walked past, clearly not interested in further conversation.


    Well, that¡¯s not helpful at all.


    She continued walking, and while she passed a few more students, she was only able to find out that the changes had begun at the lower levels of the huge building over a week ago, and seemed to be slowly percolating upward. Since they began at more or less the same time as the current experience term, no one had been greatly inconvenienced yet, other than some of the faculty with offices in the subterranean portion of the building. But, according to rumor, areas that disappeared would reappear in a day or two, with only minor changes to the layout and furnishings.


    Perhaps the Archon hired an interior decorator, Lilijoy mused.


    Still, the whole situation had put the kibosh on her plans for the evening, so she once again found herself at loose ends. Then an idea struck as she remembered a promise she had made.


    Let¡¯s see, she thought, where would be a good place? Somewhere dark and not too strange¡­


    She knew just the place. It only took her a few minutes to make her way to the Subtle Arts training area, hoping that it would be as deserted as the rest of the building. During previous experience terms, when the vast majority of the Academy population was grouped into minor cohorts and sent off into various parts of the Garden, the place still had a substantial population of stragglers. Some had just arrived, while others might have one reason or another to hang about. This time the building almost felt abandoned, and she had to wonder if it was due to the mysterious happenings.


    She jumped up to the hidden handholds on the ceiling of the Subtle Arts antechamber with ease, and soon had made her way across the walkways and down to the floor level of the main Low Light Vision training arena. She found a corner of the huge space that felt reasonably contained and spun up the diamond energy necessary to look into her Trial Space.


    She found Lowly in the nest he had been constructing over the days he was left to his own devices, a tangle of bones tied together with sinew with a variety of skins stretched across every place a skin could be, like some massive polyhedric amoeba. She knew from the previous times she had visited him that the poorly cured building materials lent it a distinct aroma. For Lowly, this was an entirely positive attribute, as it attracted small scavengers from a wide area of the cave system, essentially bringing dinner to his door.


    You can take the boy out of the Labyrinth¡­ she thought, wondering idly how he had procured the grisly components.


    ¡°Lowly,¡± she called, projecting her voice into the space, a trick she had recently stumbled upon.


    There was some scuffling from the interior.


    ¡°Lowly, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s time to go.¡±


    She could see him, barely, with her thermal vision, curled up into a ball.


    ¡°Remember, I told you this would happen,¡± she called one last time, trying to keep impatience from her voice. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°I am fine now,¡± he replied at last, his voice a thin lisp from within his nest. ¡°This is fine. Everything is fine.¡±


    She had tried on several occasions to explain why he would need to leave her Trial Space, but Archons and Realms just didn¡¯t fit in his frame of reference. The Academy had an extremely diverse group of Insiders, from all kinds of backgrounds, so she thought it might be worth a try to see if the little Labyrinthian could find a home there, though she planned to watch over him carefully at first. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what the criteria for admission were for Insiders, other than tempering, but she suspected just getting to the Academy was a big one.


    She was debating whether she should rudely pluck him from within his shelter of bone and skin when he emerged, his large eyes blinking as he searched the darkness for her. She felt some satisfaction to see that he was no longer quite as emaciated, and that the fine white scales scattered over his pale skin seemed less ruffled, almost as if they truly belonged there. The strange clumps of hair sticking off at various angles from his otherwise bald head hadn¡¯t improved at all, but that was hair for you. Entirely too much trouble, in her opinion.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± she said. Without waiting for his response, she summoned still more diamond energy and pulled.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 4: Chapter 3: Nebulous

    Lowly took the transfer back to the Garden well, for him anyway. Within a few minutes, he had uncurled his shaking limbs and opened his eyes. There were only occasional whimpers now, and he had even managed to ask a question.


    ¡°Is this¡­ the outdoors?¡±


    Lilijoy had done her best to prepare him for a world of sky and sun. Perhaps not as well as she had hoped, if he could mistake the huge open room for what she had described. True, the ceiling was quite high, perhaps eighty feet from the floor, but still. It occurred to her that Lowly had rarely had any reason to try and see something at such a distance; perhaps he, or his entire species was nearsighted?


    The image of Lowly wearing glasses made her smile.


    ¡°No, not outdoors. Just a really big room.¡± she told him. ¡°Can you see the ceiling?¡±


    He craned his neck back, his eyes bulging. ¡°No top wall,¡± he announced. ¡°Small floating walls.¡±


    It took her a second to realize he was talking about the walkways which crisscrossed the room at various heights.


    ¡°We use this room to practice hiding,¡± she told him. ¡°Lots of the people here aren¡¯t very good at it. The first thing they try to learn is how to see in the dark better. Then they try to find each other.¡±


    He blinked at her.


    ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll show you,¡± she said.


    They played a strange form of hide-and-seek for the next half hour, with far more hiding than seeking on Lowly¡¯s part, broken up by the time when he realized he could pull the various threads wending their way across the room to make bells chime. Once Lowly figured that out, he couldn¡¯t be stopped from dashing around the room until each and every bell had rung at least once. She enjoyed watching the little guy come out of his shell, though the noise seemed almost sacrilegious, given the room¡¯s purpose.


    Thinking back, she remembered that the Labyrinthians had set up quite a racket of drums and whistles when they first encountered them. Maybe Lowly was doing something along those lines? Whatever his reasons, it was something other than cowering, which had to be a good sign.


    Lilijoy had more than a little trepidation about bringing Lowly to the Academy, though it seemed to be the best of many bad options. Any choice other than returning him to the Labyrinth would have the same fundamental issues as he adapted to a world entirely alien to his experience. At least the Academy was, ostensibly, there for the purpose of guiding newly tempered Insiders as they grew in power and awareness. Jessila¡¯s situation, she hoped, had been an outlier. Now that she understood just how important Jess was to the orcs, the attempt by persons unknown to gain control of her through Charm made much more sense.


    Someone knew just how unique she is. I wonder if we¡¯ll ever know who it was?


    Of course, for all she knew, there was some other motivation behind the attempt. What she was sure of was that there was something rotten within the Academy, perhaps due to years of neglect by a Head of School who had turned into a grove of oak trees. Bringing Lowly here wasn¡¯t perfect, but he would have people looking out for him right from the beginning. If anyone tried to take advantage of his naivety, they would have a rude awakening.


    After the bell ringing episode, they went back to playing. When it came to Stealth skills, Lowly was something of an enigma, seeming to follow the ¡®if I can¡¯t see them, they can¡¯t see me¡¯ school of hiding. Despite this, he was remarkably good at staying entirely motionless and he already had a knack for fading into the background, even when he was standing out in the open with his eyes closed. She imagined it had everything to do with the fact that he grew up in a situation where hiding was almost an entirely social convention, rather than a real possibility.


    That, or his mind was just wired differently. She still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what Lowly was, what a Labyrinthian was, for that matter. On the outside, they were some kind of hybrid between an assortment of bipedal humanoids that Rosemallow had tossed into her creation; kobold and goblin seemed the most prevalent, but on the inside¡­ well, that was where the real confusion started. Was Lowly really just his blood, the outer form just a shell or a host even? Could he move into another body, maybe even possess someone?


    She didn¡¯t know, and neither did he, as far as she could tell. Talking with him on that subject was an exercise in incomprehension so thorough she couldn¡¯t tell if it was mutual, even with Lowly¡¯s new and higher level of self-awareness. It seemed as if his consciousness might change dramatically for any number of contextual reasons, that he would consider himself as a different person altogether depending on what he was doing, or even what he was feeling. This was reflected in his name when she used Scan on him, which ranged from being a row of question marks to monikers such as Only Eater and Wicked Essence.


    If he is his blood, whatever that means, it only makes sense he would have a fluid sense of self. I hope I¡¯m doing the right thing, bringing him here.


    She shrugged. It was done now. Putting him back in her Trial Space would be an absolute last resort, if the Archon even allowed her to do it, and bringing him outdoors¡­ she had a feeling that would be a long and careful project. It was encouraging to see him handling the open space of the large chamber as well as he was, but she suspected open sky and sun would be a far greater challenge.


    She was about to try having Lowly find her again, a concept that was still proving elusive to him, when she noticed two things.


    First, Lowly jumped in the air, as if he had been stung. Second, a door was sitting complacently in a wall where there had never been the faintest hint of an opening of any kind.


    Well, that¡¯s different, she thought. She was quite certain the two events must be related, though Lowly had not been facing the new door and could not have seen it.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she called out to him.


    He shook his head, as if to clear it. ¡°Head voice.¡±


    She put aside any concern and got to the point. ¡°What did it say?¡±


    ¡°Come.¡±


    With the door that had appeared, the meaning seemed clear enough. It concerned her a bit that she hadn¡¯t been invited though. She pointed the door out to Lowly.


    ¡°Wall different,¡± he observed.


    She realized, then, that he had probably never seen a door as such.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    He has so much to learn, she thought, feeling a little overwhelmed by the responsibility she had taken on when she plucked him from the Labyrinth. I wonder if this is how Anda felt with me? At least Lowly and I aren¡¯t running for our lives. Yet.


    The door beckoned, stirring her curiosity. Her only concern was that it might be some type of ejection mechanism activated by Lowly¡¯s presence, since he wasn¡¯t a student. It wouldn¡¯t be great if he went through and found himself in the middle of Academy Town or something. She wished Skria or Jess was along; she had never asked them about the details of their arrival at the Academy, or whether they had received some kind of invitation prior to setting out.


    Upon closer inspection, the door didn¡¯t offer much insight. It was the same type of iron-bound oak found throughout the building, though it was on the small side. The doors and such in the Academy trended large, to accommodate the wide range of shapes and sizes of the Insider students. Even Rosemallow didn¡¯t need to duck, most of the time. This door seemed more suited to her and Lowly, which wasn¡¯t terribly surprising if it had been created for them. Or him, which seemed likely to be the case.


    She reached down to the handle, a bit cautiously, in case the door was inclined to shock her or something for not being the intended opener. The wrought iron was slightly warm to her touch.


    ¡°If I turn this handle,¡± she called over her shoulder, ¡°then I can open this part of the wall. But we don¡¯t know what¡¯s behind it. What would you like to do?¡±


    Somewhat to her surprise, Lowly approached to study the situation. ¡°Is it a forbidden place?¡± he asked.


    She shrugged in response. ¡°It seems like you¡¯ve been invited. Not sure about me though.¡±


    ¡°I never saw the forbidden places,¡± he said.


    Lilijoy felt sure she was missing some context, but decided to ask him later. ¡°Do you want to open it, or would you like me to?¡±


    He stepped beside her, and she could hear his heart beating fast. She couldn¡¯t help but think of the moment she had realized that the true labyrinth for Lowly was the network of veins and arteries that carried him throughout his body.


    ¡°The head voice said to come, again,¡± he said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it together then,¡± she said. ¡°You can put your hands next to mine.¡±


    There was just enough room for his hands to fit on the iron handle, and then, together, they pushed it down.


    ***


    Present day:


    Magpie was happy to be in the air again. Something deep within her resonated with floating, whether in water or air, with the release from gravity¡¯s bonds, however illusory. Whether it was because of her highly regimented childhood or something that had always been with her, she didn¡¯t know. Her memories from before training as one of Uncle¡¯s little experiments were fuzzy, and most of what she could remember she didn¡¯t want to.


    She wondered at times, just how much of a coincidence it was that she had ended up with those same two elemental Sources on the Inside. Water and Air. Guess that makes me, what? A cloud? Sounds about right. Not like that ugly stuff out there though. One of those nice puffy ones on the Inside.


    The windows of the airship cabin offered nothing to see beyond stubborn light trickling through smoggy clouds. Conversations had died down and silence hung in the air, resistant to new sound. She was piloting the airship, a task that consumed little attention in the current conditions, as the craft was pretty good at maintaining a set course on its own. Her main job was to keep an eye on the large-scale weather patterns and change course or adjust altitude as necessary to avoid anything truly nasty. A variety of ancient satellites, sustained by Guardian somehow, she presumed, made the task possible, along with an analytical program she had gotten from the Josho Clan. She hoped it would be enough, because if she was truly needed as a pilot, they were in real trouble.


    She looked over the others, who were either cultivating or Inside, it was impossible to tell which, of course. She felt a little jealous of either activity. The concept of having a system that she could improve directly through her own efforts was very appealing. She hadn¡¯t dared to ask Lilijoy about it, didn¡¯t want to turn a ¡®maybe someday¡¯ into a ¡®no never¡¯. While their relations had been cordial, Magpie knew that it would be a long time before she was trusted. She worried it might be even longer before she was trustworthy.


    Not that she had any plans for betrayal; it was more that she had come to appreciate how one¡¯s setting could change one¡¯s self. She quite liked the Magpie she had discovered on Kuroudonain, but she wondered if her new sense of stability might change just as easily.


    She was also a little impatient to get back to the Inside. There had been a time, not so long ago, when she had vowed never to return to the Academy, thinking the place was little more than a social club for clannies. It didn¡¯t help that the connection she had to the place, her trainer, had been severed when she left the Flock. But the siren call of the magic classes had drawn her back. Where else would she find teachers eager to teach and, in a revelation somewhat startling to her, peers to work alongside?


    It was hard for her to explain, even to herself, but it felt like the mental and emotional discipline of studying magic was also helping her¡­ become. What, she still wasn¡¯t sure. What she did know for sure is that there was some meaning to it beyond conjuring fancy effects in a fantasy world, that by improving her ability to hold an image of a perfect sphere in her head, to pull the energy from her Water Source and fill the shape with water from her environment, to move it according to her will, she was improving herself.


    She was a bit embarrassed, but the feeling was so strong, she had tried to duplicate the feat on the Outside. Of course it didn¡¯t work, but as she stood by the edge of the sad little creek waving her arms and chanting the mnemonics that helped to order her thoughts, she felt the same sensation in her heart. Nothing changed on the outside, but on the inside¡­ she couldn¡¯t help but feel there was a metaphor there, somewhere. She still couldn¡¯t help but indulge in the fantasy that, if she just tried hard enough, just focused a little better¡­


    Sitting in the airship, Magpie chuckled at her own immaturity. I didn¡¯t get a real childhood, after all, just give me this one, okay? she asked herself. She wondered how many others had tried the same thing, wondered, just a little, if anyone had ever succeeded.


    Putting her childish thoughts to bed for the moment, she checked the weather again. As far as she or her program could tell, they would be safe for hundreds of miles. After that, things got tricky. The weather around the equator was fairly stable, and a globe with less heat meant that big storms were rare, especially this time of year. The farther north they went, the less predictable things would be. She was afraid that even the Josho Clan¡¯s weather program wouldn¡¯t help much after they passed the Tropic of Cancer. It was designed for the stable air above the equatorial Pacific Ocean, not the world of ice and snow that began in Northern Mexico. She didn¡¯t know what the weather would be like up there, and neither did anyone else she was aware of.


    I bet at some point, I¡¯m going to really wish I had Dean Reunification along.


    The old woman was a bit crazy, that was for sure, but Magpie had been surprised, shocked even, to find that under that relentless drive and mild fanaticism was someone deeply invested in her student¡¯s growth. The trick was to treat her like a river; as long as you went with the current, the water would be kind to you. Magpie had been quite reluctant when Attaboy suggested asking the Dean to be her new advisor, but now she wouldn¡¯t have it any other way. Dean Reunification was all magic, all the time, and that suited Magpie perfectly.


    She felt her stomach drop as the airship caught a downdraft, or a pocket of low pressure, or something. Whatever it was, it was too small to show up on her scans. She enjoyed the more intimate connection to the wind that the smaller craft offered, though it was no substitute for the sensations she had felt the first time her advisor took her to the sky.


    ¡°This magic is far beyond you,¡± the Dean had said as they soared far above the Academy, cloud dappled fields and forest stretching to the horizon below. ¡°But you must learn the feeling of connection with the wind. Learn that feeling and hold it deep within your soul, for it will be your beacon as you travel through the wilds. With it, you may not know where you are, but you will always know where you are going.¡±


    The woman was full of advice like that, vague and mystical, yet somehow immediately applicable, to her anyway. Even now, Magpie could feel it, the winds within her resonating to her surroundings. She had yet to connect to the Pressure Clade, let alone been able to summon the slightest breeze, but she could feel it, feel just how close she was.


    It felt like freedom.


    .


    .


    .

 Book 4: Chapter 4: Myriad

    Interlude: Miguel


    Sweat dripped down Miguel¡¯s brow as he dragged Sadie¡¯s body into the wastes. He did his best to ignore the feeling of her cold ankles against his palms, to look away from her still features. Long hair and arms fanned around her head, brushing away his footprints on the dusty earth.


    Teacher had said she was too weak for the second stage. He said that her soul was in a better place now. The coldness in Teacher¡¯s voice had made it hard to take any comfort from that, though. Miguel resolved that he would be strong when his turn came, just like he was being strong now, dragging her unreasonably heavy body over rocks and scrub. She was so small, but it seemed that death had added weight.


    He left her at the base of a sad little tree and walked back to Night¡¯s Safety. He wasn¡¯t sure why it was called that, since it seemed like Teacher and the dogs were more than enough to keep their little band safe at night, or any other time. For weeks, one of his chores had been to haul loads of dirt and rubbish from the nasty place. It smelled of mold, musk and rot, and when the weather permitted, Miguel preferred to sleep under the clouds.


    Sadie was the second of the initiates to die. He could still remember her last, sad, smile, her face tinged with fear and hope. She had arrived before him, had helped him to understand the rules of this strange, new, life he found himself living. Now she was gone.


    The others were just finishing a run when he returned, hands braced on knees and panting with exertion. Brother Pinton watched them with narrowed eyes, hands clasped behind his back, ready to pounce if any tried to sit or lie down.


    ¡°Walk it off!¡± he bellowed as Miguel eased into the group, trying to remain unnoticed. Pinton had an obsessive focus on their physical training, and wouldn¡¯t forgive his absence, though Miguel was only doing Teacher¡¯s bidding. Thankfully, the horribly scarred man only had one working eye, and was oddly unobservant at times, as if he could only focus on what was directly in front of him. Every morning without fail the initiates were roused, quite forcefully if necessary, and forced to perform all manner of exercises. It was not Miguel¡¯s favorite time of the day, though he had certainly gained strength and stamina under the harsh regime.


    Next was a hurried meal of food bars, and then his favorite part of the day. Teacher had some kind of arrangement with the odd mining platform that lit the far horizon at night and filled the air with a low rumble all the time. Miguel hadn¡¯t seen it yet, but some of the other initiates had made the trek to retrieve food, clothing, and other necessities, and told the rest of them about the massive vehicle crouched upon the land.


    He was still cramming the food bar when Teacher appeared, followed by his two disciples. Sadie would have been the third, Miguel thought. All the initiates bowed respectfully, one of the first things Sadie had taught him to do.


    ¡°You are being given a great gift,¡± said Teacher to those assembled before him as the disciples went from initiate to initiate, distributing the Teacher¡¯s blessing. ¡°But you do not yet have the wisdom to use it. Today, you will meditate upon your senses...¡±


    He went on, talking about the nature of reality and how the senses presented a mirror of the self rather than truth. Normally, Miguel would have at least tried to follow along, but images of Sadie kept intruding, her quiet smile, the way her head bounced against the rocks as he dragged her. He heard the disciple sniff in disdain at the tears running down his face as he received the blessing. Still, he pulled up his system status as the blessing reached his bloodstream and then his brain, watching as the nanobody count increased.


    He, Miguel, scavenger from the outskirts of Vista, had a system now. He was part of a clan. True, it was small and strange, unlike the powerful Lone Star Clan that ruled his home, but it was growing as Teacher brought in more strays like himself. Teacher said that they would usher in a new golden age for the world, that they would rid society of corruption and bring it into alignment with the heavens.


    Soon, he would undergo his first trial, and either achieve the second stage, like the two disciples, or die, like Sadie. Either way, paradise beckoned.


    <hr>


    Chapter 4: Myriad


    Beyond the door was a passage of rough stone, a gray, rectangular tunnel that sloped downward to the edge of Lilijoy¡¯s senses.


    ¡°Well..¡± she started to say as she turned to Lowly, only to stop as he surged past her. ¡°¡­ I guess we¡¯re going in,¡± she finished. She couldn¡¯t blame him; the small passage probably reminded him of home. They could go over some ground rules for exploring unfamiliar passages in a moment, she decided.


    ¡°Slow down,¡± she called softly. ¡°There could be danger.¡±


    Lowly froze, and let her take the lead. They made their way carefully down the long hall, and soon Lilijoy was fighting the urge to move faster too. The featureless stone stretched on and on, offering nothing beyond echoes. It was only after several minutes of travel that there was a small change; some kind of faceted inclusions began to appear in the wall. Lilijoy suspected they were gems or crystals of some kind, and wished she had a light source to see if they would glimmer and shine. As it was, she could see them with her mana sense, somewhat, as concentrations of earth that stood out from the background, small blotches high on the walls and ceiling scattered at random every twenty feet or so.


    ¡°Can you see that?¡± she asked Lowly in a whisper, gesturing toward one of the crystals that was on the wall, well out of her reach.


    He followed her motion with his eyes, but shook his head. ¡°More wall,¡± he replied.


    She shrugged, and they continued onward, and downward. The passage seemed to be curving slightly to the right as well now, though they were already well past the Academy walls, if her internal reckoning was to be trusted. After another minute, she saw a crystal ahead a bit lower in the wall, almost at her eye level, and she stopped to investigate. She reached out with her fingers to feel the facets her echolocation was perceiving, but the object disappeared before she could touch it, the wall sealing over it as it retreated.


    It was disconcertingly like an eye closing.


    She watched for some time after explaining the event as best she could to Lowly, but the crystal did not reemerge before he became impatient and began tugging on her arm. They began to move again, but she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were being watched by the gems as they passed under them.


    More walking, and still more, followed. It came as a relief when they finally saw a chamber of some kind ahead of them. If not a chamber, it was at least a change. The walls bowed away on either side, a swelling within the passage of sorts, though she could see they reconverged not far ahead. What was more interesting was the floor, where a significantly larger crystal pushed forth from the floor like a buried obelisk, the top foot of a canted pillar with seven, rough facets.


    ¡°I see that.¡± Lowly announced.


    Earth mana extended from the corners of the formation, caught in still vortexes. Lilijoy had noticed that the more pure such mana was, the slower it moved, and this mana seemed almost frozen to her sight. She knew instinctively that this would be a fantastic setting to work on her Earth magic, though she highly doubted that was why they had been summoned.


    She exchanged a glance with Lowly, hoping he might have some idea of what to do next. Evidently he was hoping the same, for he answered her look with an expression of confusion.


    ¡°When I tried to touch the one on the wall, it went away,¡± she relayed in a hushed voice. ¡°Maybe you should try touching this one?¡±


    She was a bit worried to put him in danger, but she was also concerned that her presence might be a problem. If there was some opportunity here for Lowly, she didn¡¯t want to ruin it through her own ignorance.


    After a few false starts and hesitations, Lowly summoned up the courage to poke the crystal lightly with one clawed finger. When nothing overtly ominous occurred, he looked back at Lilijoy, and she encouraged him with a nod. He gathered his courage and placed his hand lightly on the blunt, faceted end.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Ouch,¡± he said and then stumbled back, as the crystal began to move. Concerned, Lilijoy looked over to see him licking his palm. She could only spare a brief glance, for the crystalline extrusion on the floor required her attention. It was¡­ blooming, was her first impression, rods of crystal unfurling from the center, bending outward from newly angled joints and extending.


    It was only when the rods had bent over themselves enough to reach the floor that she realized what was about to happen.


    ¡°Those are legs!¡±


    With a heave, the crystal pushed its central core from the floor, resembling an oddly symmetrical, seven-legged spider crossed with a stump. Lilijoy hated to assume that every creature she ran across was aggressive, but she summoned forth her ironwood club as the creature began to step in a rotational pattern, its central pillar swiveling back and forth, crystal feet clacking on the stone floor.


    <No.> A voice intruded into her thoughts. <Not for you.>


    The voice carried with it a weighty presence and conviction that froze her in place, locking her joints. She could only watch as Lowly took one look at the whirl of segmented crystal appendages and then turned and ran as fast as he could back down the hall, arms pumping and bare feet slapping. She couldn¡¯t even turn to see what would happen as the creature followed in pursuit.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she managed to call out as the sounds of Lowly and the creature faded into the distance. There was no reply, just a feeling of watchful presence hovering over her, ready to exert the same pressure as before if she took as much as a step. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was real or imaginary, but decided to go with her instincts and stayed put. She sent her best wishes to Lowly and sat down on the floor to meditate on Earth Magic.


    ***


    A long time later, or a short time, depending on one¡¯s scale, she heard a dragging sound coming down the hall. She roused herself and looked down the hall, to see Lowly painfully pulling himself along the floor towards her, some distance away. She ran to him and immediately began to heal his numerous wounds, mostly punctures to his legs and arms.


    A normal being would have long since perished from blood loss, but given Lowly¡¯s ability to move his blood, or himself, whichever it was, he was mostly contending with structural damage. Even so, his health was down to a sliver, though she had to wonder if she was seeing his true health, or that of his body alone.


    ¡°Did you win?¡± she asked.


    He nodded, already responding to her healing. ¡°Smashed moving rock-spider.¡±


    He¡¯s going to end up with a real complex about spiders at this rate, she thought. ¡°How?¡±


    Lowly shrugged, a fairly typical response when she asked him, well, anything.


    It didn¡¯t take her too long to heal Lowly completely, though she was still stuck at the Journeyman level in the skill. Arpentra, the enormous sky-jelly and Dean of the Second Cohort, had offered to personally train Lilijoy when she reached the Master level, but between one distraction and another, Lilijoy hadn¡¯t made nearly as much progress as she had hoped. She did notice, now, how her relative lack of familiarity with the specifics of Lowly¡¯s species kept her rate of healing lower than when she was healing herself or another human, and resolved to investigate further when she had the chance, hoping it might provide further insight into the hidden subdivisions of the Medical/Healing skill.


    Soon, they were on the move again. The crystals in the walls and ceiling became more common, and Lilijoy caught them moving from time to time, scuttling along whichever surface they happened to be on, miniature versions of their larger cousin, before sinking back into the solid stone. Any time she and Lowly stopped walking, they could hear the light clicking of tiny crystal feet off in the distance. It was nerve wracking, and it certainly didn¡¯t help that Lilijoy didn¡¯t know what she was allowed to do if they were attacked again.


    It wasn¡¯t much longer before they saw a light ahead. Shining down the long corridor, it caught on the facets of dozens of crystals, then hundreds as they proceeded, until there was more crystal than stone and they entered into a large chamber that took Lilijoy¡¯s breath away, a room full of towering crystal pillars canted at every conceivable angle, emerging from wall, floor and ceiling, clear and gleaming with internal illumination.


    ¡°I hope they don¡¯t all turn into spiders,¡± said Lowly.


    The air was full of clicking as smaller crystals darted here and there, merging and separating from the larger columns, scuttling and spinning around on their long, segmented legs. Even so, Lilijoy didn¡¯t feel any particular threat, whether due to the beauty of the setting, or the overwhelming magnitude of the forces they would face if the crystals were truly hostile, she couldn¡¯t say. If there was a battle to be fought, it would be short and ridiculous, so why worry?


    A true crystal cave, she thought. I wonder if Merlin is in there somewhere?


    They stood for a while, unsure what to do, as there was no obvious path before them. Eventually Lilijoy turned to Lowly.


    ¡°Do you think..?¡±


    He was shaking his head. ¡°Last time it bit me and turned to spider.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a test of courage or something?¡±


    He looked at her with a confused expression. She wasn¡¯t sure whether she had lost him at ¡®test¡¯ or ¡®courage¡¯, or possibly both, so she explained the concepts involved.


    He shook his head when she finished. ¡°Test of stupid.¡±


    ¡°I guess brave and stupid do overlap,¡± she agreed. ¡°But do you have a better idea? At least we¡¯ll respawn if the worst happens. If we¡¯re still in the Academy, there isn¡¯t even a penalty.¡±


    She was a bit concerned about where Lowly might respawn, but the Inside wouldn¡¯t put him anywhere immediately dangerous, if it came to that.


    Lowly sighed, and began to sidle skittishly to the nearest glowing pillar. After flinching away at the last moment several times, he finally mustered up enough courage, or stupidity, to put his palm flat on the smooth surface.


    Unlike before, the pillar itself did not unfold legs and begin chasing them. Instead, as soon as Lowly removed his palm with an expression of pain, smaller crystal entities began to converge from every part of the room. Thankfully, they were not attacking, not yet anyway. Instead, they converged on a relatively open spot on the floor and began to merge like some three-dimensional tangram, building¡­ well, it was hard to say.


    Starting as an undefined mound of facets and edges, what took shape before them passed through several stages. At first, Lilijoy thought it might be something like a crab, but then it began to look like a rocket ship, crouched on four unevenly spaced landing legs. This image was shattered, when two appendages began to project from the¡­ torso?


    Finally, the being seemed satisfied with its form, four stout legs with sharply angled joints supported a central mass with two arms. There was even something like a face, seven-sided cavities placed in a rough simulation of eyes and mouth. It looked like an attempt to replicate a roughly humanoid form, burdened by seven-sided symmetry.


    <Greetings, students.> The voice from before echoed in Lilijoy¡¯s head, hollow and deep. <I am Myriad. Head Myriad to you, I suppose.>


    It took Lilijoy a moment to get her bearings. ¡°Head, as in Head of School?¡± she asked after a moment.


    <Yes. I was appointed by the Archon several weeks ago. Unfortunately, travel is severely inconvenient to me, so I have just begun to arrive.>


    This answered a number of questions Lilijoy had pondered in idle moments. ¡°If I may ask,¡± she began as respectfully as she could, ¡°why did you bring us here?¡±


    The crystal being appeared to scrutinize her, rotating its central mass slightly to bring its face analog into alignment with where she stood. She couldn¡¯t tell if this was necessary, or if the being was just being polite.


    <You, Emily, sometimes Lily or Lilijoy, were not brought here. It is your companion who I wished to meet. Despite appearances, he and I have much in common, though he is intriguingly unique. I wished to evaluate him.>


    She wasn¡¯t sure what to say to that, so she changed topics, for the moment. ¡°Are you the one rearranging the Academy?¡±


    <Naturally. I have been adding those parts I can reach to my domain as I approach. It is a tedious process, but has already taught me much about my charges.>


    Something clicked for her then. ¡°The Mystic Library! That¡¯s how you know me.¡±


    <Indeed. It has been incorporated, though I expect it will take some time to fully digest the contents.>


    Lilijoy wasn¡¯t sure she liked the sound of that. She felt bad that she was monopolizing the conversation, but given that Lowly had frozen in place with his eyes closed, she figured he would need some time to adapt anyway.


    ¡°Will you¡­ be putting it back?¡±


    <Hmm. No. Not as it was. The students did not value it sufficiently, I believe. Now access will be earned through challenges overcome. That will cause it to be more valued, and lead to more use over time.>


    Well, that¡¯s sure to be inconvenient, she thought. She could appreciate the reasoning, but now she was kicking herself for not taking better advantage of the resource when it was easily available.


    ¡°I apologize if this is improper to ask, Head Myriad, but what manner of being are you?¡±


    Her Scan had yet to trigger on any of the crystal beings, and it would be impolite to use now.


    <What do you think I am?>


    She considered for a moment. ¡°My first guess was some type of collective entity, but from the little I know, they tend to be composed of units of identical size, while you don¡¯t seem to have that limitation. Maybe some kind of earth elemental?¡±


    The being¡¯s physical manifestation regarded her passively, but the voice in her head chortled. <You were closer on your first thought, though correct to doubt it. The physical form of collective entities are¡­ attractors to certain types of self-reinforcing energy patterns. That is not precisely the case with me, though it is a distinction with no true difference. The energy of my thoughts was never separate from my substrate, but in effect, I am a collective, made of extremely small units that are self-similar at many scales. However the Outsiders have another name for me from their own stories. Would you care to guess it?>


    Crystal entity with the ability to reshape its environment, likes challenges. Bigger and a little more¡­ spidery than I would have thought, but still¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re a dungeon core,¡± she proclaimed.


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