25 - Westward Ho!

“Are you sure we need this?” Maya asked, pulling machinery from the remnants of the pub.

Tender skittered forward, his articulating head tilting at her.

“Yes,” he said. It had been two days since he’d got his new body and in that time, he had managed to adjust some code in the computer to produce sound from the tablet that Maya now carried everywhere.

Vaanaak’s old tablet had been repurposed. Tender had worked some computer magic and now he could communicate with her from afar through the tablet. It seemed System Tech wasn’t just universal, but the code that ran it was pretty standard. He was beginning to teach Maya how to understand it, but for Tender it was more intuitive and for Maya it was a mess of arcane symbols.

“The VR set up has an independent computer system that generates its simulated reality,” Tender stated. “Although one VR core is destroyed, we can salvage the components and either replace the computer I am currently using or you may use the VR system for some emotional release.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening, especially if everyone knows what’s going down,” Maya said.

“The VR system does not just generate sexual encounters, it can also produce environments that various species find comforting.”

“You mean I can get blue skies and green grass?” Maya asked, excited.

“Yes.”

Maya happily began salvaging the various magi-tronic components and devices that had been in the Pleasure Room.

“Maya!” Bell hollered from above her. He was currently in the crawlspace of the pub. A feat that confused her, since he adamantly disliked System Tech.

Maya looked up from where she was working and saw the big man’s head poking through a hole in the floor. Maya had cut the hole to allow her access to some of the hidden components of the VR room.

“Maya!”

“What!” she yelled back, even as they were only a dozen feet away from one another.

“I have something to show you!”

“Then show me!”

“Come up here!”

“You come down here!”

“You need to come up here!”

“Need?”

“It requires your presence!”

“I’m busy!”

“The time taken on this silly back and forth would have been sufficient for you to have come up here and see what I need to show you,” Bell snapped at her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there.” Maya said. “I’m the sub-manager of this pub and the CEO of the Sullivan Survival Society. I boss people around, then Tender, and then you.”

“So be it!” Bell replied and his head vanished back up the hole.

“Wait, what were you going to show me?” Maya demanded.

***

“Looks like shit and smells like it too,” Maya said as Bell presented her a makeshift bucket of reddish brown ooze. “Is it shit?”

“Hardly,” Bell said. “I’ve tasted it, it’s not feces nor is it poisonous.”

“Gross, man.” Maya shuddered.

“It’s algae. I discovered it in one of the secondary water tanks,” Bell began. “The tank had ruptured when the bomb detonated, but this remained behind.”

“Cool,” Maya said, “you found a friend.”

Bell glared at her. “It’s still living,” he stated.

“Cool. You found a living friend.” Maya said, then she paused. It took a moment for the information to click in her head. “Wait, what?”

Bell grinned. “I have a Sense that allows me to locate alchemic lifeforms. I haven’t had to use it since arriving, but as I came near the pub I felt it activate. It took some finding, but I managed to locate it in the secondary water storage tanks. This algae has a light mana trace to it, giving it inherent properties that could be used in a base for a low grade potion.”

“It’s alive?” Maya breathed.

Everything brought into the rainbow sky hellscape was dead. The germs, bacteria, and other cellular life were snuffed out; sterilized upon arrival. Unless they were inside of whomever had survived the cross over.

“It’s alive!” Maya cried.

“I believe it arrived along with the pub, it has a taste that doesn’t correspond to yours,” Bell explained.

“Hold on!” Maya cried. “My taste? When did you taste me?”

Bell gave her a look. “The food you fed me,” he said.

“That wasn’t made of people, y’know… or me.”

“All the food you have contains no mana and is sterile, like everything. Also everything you produce does not contain mana,” Bell stated. “All bacteria or cells that you are shedding and producing is mana-less.”

“What I’ve been producing? What does that mean?” Maya narrowed her eyes. “Have you been digging around my waste buckets?” she demanded.

“Purely for research!” Bell cried.

“Jesus, did you use Identify By Taste?” Maya stepped back, a look of disgust on her face.

She saw that Bell’s people could also blush, though instead of turning red, he turned a darker shade of blue that was almost black. “Of course not. That’s disgusting,” he stated.

“Gross, man. Gross.” Maya shook her head. “That ain’t some science project, it’s to be used as organics when we get back to Nanaseto. Quit rooting around in it.”

Bell frowned, folding his arms. “As an Alchemist,” he began, “I have the ability to ascertain mana levels in various biological creatures. You, from what you’ve said, are from a newly Integrated universe, without prior mana exposure. Then you were transported away from it by the Dimensional Instability, being brought here to this place, where the ambient mana is fairly low.”

Maya glared at him. “Yeah, and?”

“You’ve also stated you are level 10, which in my world is a decent level to be at for beginners. I’ve had a lot of experience helping my younger family members in their mana channeling and on our family’s Path of Alchemy. I know what a level 10 mana aura feels like, you, Maya Sullivan, don’t have a level 10 mana aura.”

“Again: Yeah, and?”

“I don’t know if it was due to your sudden departure from your home universe or from this place, but your growth is erratic and stunted. Your body should be changing from the mana it absorbs from leveling, that’s what leveling is. It’s your body making use of more mana in the universe and thereby changing your body along with it.”

“I have been stronger and I suppose, smarter… usually.” Maya said, feeling as if some doctor had just told her she was suffering from an ailment.

“But not that much,” Bell said. “I am level 30, but I’ve placed a lot of my attribute points into Mental and Soul, it means I’m a poor fighter, but I can channel non-combat mana far better than most. It means I can use ‘magic’ in my crafting, allowing me to shape the mana to what I need it to be. A normal SIL with your levels, regardless of how they stacked their attributes, should be able to channel mana, be it Physical, Mental, or Soul. I’ve been here with you for days and you’re not channeling anything.”

Maya stared at Bell for a long moment. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“Channeling mana is the foundation of everything. How do you think someone gains experience and levels from crafting or fighting? It’s the amount of mana they channel when doing things. You should have been leveling outside of combat. I’ve seen you make things, dismantle things, learn things, but you have never mentioned gaining experience from doing those things.”

“What? Doing stuff gives experience points?” Maya asked.

“You should have been able to channel mana fairly easy in the lesser Ability based tasks you’ve been doing. Knowing when someone is channeling is one of the skills everyone learns, because it could mean life or death. I’ve been around you for days and I haven’t felt you channeling. So I checked. At lower levels, a SIL tends to shed a lot of mana in their byproducts. The body is still adjusting and it’s still making changes, therefore there is a lot of… excess mana it eliminates. Your body doesn’t seem to be processing mana as it should be. Your body is… I don’t know… something’s wrong with it.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying news.” Maya sighed. “I guess getting Nanaseto back online is a bigger priority,” Maya said softly. She didn’t know how to feel.

It was all new information to her. Channeling mana was supposed to be easy? Maya thought back on the times she had channeled mana, when she had killed the rogue AI in the Hangy and the ramming one that Tender now occupied. She had felt that electricity in her veins and she had been far stronger for a moment. Was that how she was supposed to be feeling all the time?

“We are getting off topic here,” Bell said. “This algae.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Maya asked, her thoughts still lingering.

“It survived the Dimensional Instability, it has been growing in the secondary storage tank,” Bell mused. “It’s fragile. It was already beginning to die from lack of water and base nutrients, but I think I can keep it alive and even grow more of it.”

The fog parted and Maya’s eyes lit up. Organics. The algae was organics. The one thing they desperately needed to survive. Already her mind was racing at the possibilities. In a dead world the ability to grow something, anything, was a game changer. If they could grow their own organics or even something edible, they could survive indefinitely.

“Well, what does it need? I shall sacrifice a thousand rogue AIs to it,” Maya said.

Bell smiled. “I have the Ability [Gardener] which should help the algae survive and grow,” he said. “I’ll need to ingest more of it to get the specifics of what nutrients it requires. As it’s a mana infused plant species, I can channel mana into it and keep it semi healthy for now. Long term, we’ll need to create an environment that it will find suitable.”

Maya watched at Bell slowly made his way down from the crawlspace and gingerly head toward the truck. He moved as if a single jostle of the tub of algae would kill it.

She had to grin. He might have tried to kill her when they first met, but now it looked like thanks to him he had saved them both. Maya knew she would have never even thought of checking cracked tanks and did not have any kind of plant sensing Skills.

Although his diagnosis sat heavily in her mind, Maya didn’t fully understand what it meant. She had no frame of reference, her entire life had been lived without mana. Therefore she hadn’t felt that anything was wrong in the last three weeks. She had been somewhat successful in her endeavors; sure, she had lost the pub, but she was still alive.

She sighed and returned to work, letting the drudgery of cutting and storing consume her.

***

“Like a phoenix, one day you will be reborn, Bonita,” Maya said as she hefted her cutter. The blade was extended to its full two foot length and she felt the slight vibration of the tool. She set a hand upon the crumpled hood of the truck and then began cutting.

Tender moved around her, his long legs and arms picking up pieces and setting them to the side as she worked. He had tried doing it himself, but his bulk and his leg’s lack of finesse had hindered him. Therefore he was on ‘move heavy stuff’ duty.

Maya was brutal in her cutting. The entire engine block was removed. The motor, radiator, the transmission, and everything that connected to it, she cut away. Every cut was like a stab to her heart, but she needed to reduce the weight. There was no more diesel and the engine had a very large hole in it, so Maya figured she’d never be able to drive it around again.

The truck had been the original Sullivan Food Truck, an old vehicle that her father had rebuilt to his specifications. It had been so old that her Mother had called it her older sister. “Go wash your sister!”, “Clean your sister!” The worse had been when she was in high school and Pops had arrived to pick her up in the truck, yelling loudly in the parking lot that her “sister needed to get to work.”

Maya wiped her eyes and continued working.

Bell didn’t help, instead he focused on hanging out with his new friend, the algae, and moving the heavier stuff into the bed of the truck. Most of the time he dawdled about, picking up random truck pieces and tasting them like he was looking for a snack. He vomited when he tasted brake fluid. After that he focused on packing.

She left the truck cab intact, opting to clean out the shattered glass. The back of the truck though, Maya removed the roof. Exposing the back end to the world and allowing Tender to move the mana core into a secure spot in the back. She pulled out useless items and Bell began stuffing it full of junk once more.

She had scavenged so much of the pub that she had got to level four in her new Ability. She maintained a decent organization of the items and Tender kept the inventory.

It took two days, but after five days since Bell’s arrival; they were done with the pub.

“It’s okay to feel emotional, Tender. It was your home after all. It was your best days of serving overpriced booze and working for the shadiest blue guy in the Multiverse.”

Bell’s head popped up.

“Different blue guy!” Maya shouted.

Bell scowled and continued cooing to his plant. It wasn’t cooing, but a type of mana channeling that involved whispering sweet nothings to it, or something. Maya didn’t understand it and she was too busy to learn it.

“I’m not saddened or thrilled,” Tender replied. He stood beside her and lowered his body to the ground. His articulating head pointed towards the pub. They had found functional cameras, including a few hidden ones that Tommoth had seeded around the pub. They were now connected to the computer and mana core, which Tender used to ‘see’ with. Two cameras sat on each side of his processor and the computer, reflecting the dull light of the world.

“But take in the sight. Maybe one day you’ll feel the emotional weight of this moment. Maybe one day you’ll be a real boy, like Bell over there.”

“I am not a boy!”

“Stop eavesdropping!”

“I shall record this for prosperity's sake,” Tender said, completely ignoring the exchange.

“Hey, Bell! Get over here.”

“No.”

“Bring Junior too!”

Bell grumbled and walked over to them. He cradled the tub of algae. In the last two days it had changed from its rusty brown color to a somewhat healthier yellow brown color. Bell had said it needed a spectrum of light to begin full photosynthesis, but he was still experimenting on the light set up that Maya had built for him.

“Stand here. Tender here. Junior here.” Maya set up the tablet before them and then linked her arms with one of Bell’s baby arms and the other with Tender’s robotic leg. There was a click and a holographic image of the four of them floated on the screen of the tablet.

“Oh, man. Your eyes were closed, Tender,” she laughed.

***

“You’re okay, right?” Maya asked Tender. The third time in as many hours. “We can make Bell pull for a while.”

“I am fine. The load is in the acceptable range,” Tender replied.

Maya nodded and looked around. Tender was in the forefront of their sad parade. To him were strapped cables and chains that were then tied to the former food truck. The back of the food truck was loaded with everything they thought they would need from the pub. Behind the truck, more straps that pulled along Bell’s tricycle.

Although Bell had wanted to ride the tricycle, as with it he could move at a good running pace; he had ultimately decided it was better to keep Junior company in the cab of the truck. He was hunched uncomfortably in the seat as he kept a hand upon his prized possession.

Maya sat on Tender’s back, having taken the time to strap her nest bed to it and lounged about looking at the multiple windows from the computer. She was on watch duty; scanning the multiple cameras they had jury rigged to the truck and pointed in a dozen directions.

So far nothing had made an appearance. The trash piles loomed around them, but nary a rusted piece of pipe moved. She wondered what happened to the mining barge she had seen long ago. Had it met up with Medusa or Turrethead and become so much scrap? She craned her head about, seeing they had passed where they had retrieved Tender’s body. That lay about a third of the way back to the Hangy. Maya sighed and continued scanning the windows.

Tender set a brisk pace, Maya estimated it to be about five miles an hour. He could go faster, but he said it would drain his mana core, at this pace he could keep going for nearly twenty hours, which would be more than enough time to reach the Hangy.

Maya figured she’d traveled at least forty miles from the ship. She had been driving for nearly two hours, although she had kept to lower school crosswalk speeds during most of it.

It wasn’t as if they would get lost either. She could easily make out the tracks of the food truck; a pair of undisturbed furrows in the gray dirt. Eleven days had done nothing to disturb the trail. She was glad to see there were no additional tracks marring the gray dirt they were passing through.

She and Bell were both ready for trouble. Bell had more than one crossbow ready to fire and she had marveled at the amount of weapons he had been carrying. He had stated that he had salvaged all the armor and supplies his companions had been carrying, which made her wonder how high his [Looter of the Dead] levels were, but even she knew that was a crass question to ask. He might be a dick, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been shaken by all of his friends dying.

The weapons spoke a lot about what Bell’s world was like. They were a medieval fantasy world. The type she had read about in books, thatch roofs, blacksmiths, and [Adventurers] going about killing monsters and saving villages.

Although he was an [Alchemist] by trade, Bell still had a lot of combat training; a sword being his weapon of choice. The crossbow was the only ranged weapon his companions had been carrying and it was one he wasn’t entirely trained at. That lack of training had saved Maya’s life. Bell had been using the standard method of killing unknown level individuals. Shooting them in the head; destroying their brain, zombie style.

Yet even though his people were living in a fantasy wonderland, they weren’t ignorant of the technology outside of their world. Bell had said their were still interstellar traders that dropped by to sell wares and goods they couldn’t get. They would have had more trade, but it seemed everyone on Bell’s world still held a thousand year old grudge of being conquered by space faring assholes.

He knew about System Tech and had said there were places where it was used, but most people of his planet preferred to use their skills to create their own tools. Racial Methodology, he had called it. Each species had their own way of using mana and with enough focus and high Tier craftsmen, they would create their own Methodology from it.

It was like starting over from scratch on a technological level and then rebuilding everything from there. Bell had said that anything that System Tech could do, a species who invested enough into their own Methodology could do the same easier, faster, and better. The only reason System Tech was so prevalent was that it was a shortcut to ‘advanced’ technology.

“System Tech is considered trash because it doesn’t go beyond Tier 2,” Bell had explained moodily the day before. “You can use the best grade, highest Tier materials and you’ll only manage to make Tier 2 or less items. Yes, its easy and cheap, but the System doesn’t want you to do things easily or cheaply; it wants you to struggle and find the true heart of yourself. You focus on a trade, a craft, and you work on it, bringing honor and wealth to your family and raising the craft another notch so your children can continue to climb forward and upward.”

Maya had diplomatically nodded at his words. She wondered how people on Earth were handling it. She knew enough that the seven plus billion people on Earth were a result of a massive logistics network and current technologies that allowed food to be grown and shipped across the globe. With all that trashed, it was very, very bad news. The consensus was that everyone was most likely dying in huge swaths. A thought that Maya pushed away. She didn’t want to think about that.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She stared up at the rainbow sky and realized this was the first time in a long time she didn’t have anything to do. She was restless, constantly scanning the camera windows and wearing away at Tender’s reserve of patience.

“Are we there yet?” she asked.

“No.”

“Damn it.”

***

“Hail the conquering heroes!” Maya cried out as the Hanganathorie came into view. It was as she had left it, a ghost ship half stuck in a trash pile. She could make out the truck’s tracks and the hole in the ship, along with the piles of junk she had looted from the interior.

“We return from far away lands, bearing loot and companions. Come forth, Hanganathorie, and rejoice in our safe return!” Maya stood atop Tender, her arms waving.

Bell glowered at her from the cab of the truck, Junior sitting on his lap.

“I sense movement,” Tender said.

Maya looked to the hole in the Hangy and saw multi legged creatures skittering forth. They did not look friendly.

Rogue AI GBN125B - Guard Minion - Level 2

“Home, sweet home,” Maya said.