HODGE, a Greenwich peasant

Hodge brushed his fingers together over the empty acre, and within a minute’s passing, the budding seeds of lavender herbs sprouted and bloomed. The palliative scent filtering through his nose with a light and sweet intensity. So this is the smell of a new beginning, he thought.

He held an open palm toward the evening sky. In it, the transparent, spectral image of a small crystal diamond, spinning as if his hand were a dias. At its center, a black core seemed to suck the dazzling starlight into it. The sigma possessed terrifying beauty.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, the euphoric feeling of completion of a long day’s work twisted into maniacal delight. He started laughing, at first a small chuckle that evolved into delusional hysteria. No, he wasn’t insane. He just didn’t care. The future was in his grasp.

As the cool rush of wind brisked across the field, invading his baggy, plain clothes with a pleasant chill, Hodge smiled at his victory. The lavender he had just grown was merely an aesthetic touch to this true success.

Around him, his little farm was crowded with a colorful array of crops. In season, out of season, local, exotic, it didn’t matter. Any seeds Hodge could get his hands on, he planted. Plots of chili peppers sprouted next to corn stalk which was across the path from tomatoes next to asparagus next to potatoes and on and on and on.

His sigma, Rapid Farmer, ensured their health and optimal ripening. All of it was completed over two weeks from planting top growth, and Hodge planned to harvest in the morning. For now, Hodge was content to savor the appearance of his fertile fields.

The moment his fate changed replayed as a vivid memory. A simple peasant, born and bred in poverty with no aspiration to look forward to, wandering into the woods to collect firewood for the harsh incoming sting of winter. In his trek, he tripped over a small protrusion from the ground. A diamond, no a crystal.

A sigma. Hodge had heard only rumors of their glorious power. Once he was acquainted with the treasure, the prospects of his remaining years changed. In his mind, every plant he seeded was replaced with a stack of golden Nibbles. Nobility was just around the corner.

That’s right, nobility. Hodge's wife and daughter would no longer be forced to live below the roof of a decaying farmhouse. A piece of parchment in his bedroom possessed the plans for a manor in his name.

The only thing left now was to wait for him to arrive. Jos promised that he would pass the notice along quickly. Jos promised a lot of things these days, but Hodge paid extra to ensure no delays on his new hire.

A servant, apparently straight from tutoring at the top of Greenwich Mountain where Old Naniana used to bring baskets of food, buckets of water, and new attire woven straight from the yarn spools in her own home. Hodge believed that woman did too much for that ‘private institution.’ What even went on up there anyway? It should have been a regular school, but Hodge swore he could see the red glow of a fire or some other strange anomaly protruding from the summit.

Regardless, whoever the servant was, he now belonged to Hodge. Well, so long as he was paid of course, but payment would no longer be an issue. When he dangled gold Nibbles in front of the servant’s face, he could order whatever the hell he wanted. He would finally have some control in his life. Finally, finally!

Now, if only the damn fool would arrive sooner! Hodge wanted to be away from Greenwich as soon as possible. The only thing that could sour his days anymore was more disgusting rumors of a raiding party in the area. His blood pressure spiked every time he heard another tale.

Oops! The dreaming left Hodge stranded in the fields. Keeping his eyes locked onto the beauty of the crops caused them to lose some luster. Hodge would have none of that, so he hurried back inside, where faint gray streams of dinner wafted through the cracks of the back door.

When he entered, Morgan was cooking a stew mixed with ten different, delicious flavors that flooded his nostrils. A luxury only afforded to their rapid farming rate.

“Corn, carrots, peas, and…pumpkin?” Hodge asked.

“It’s a recipe I’m testing. I hope you don’t mind,” Morgan said.

“It’s an odd mix, sure, but no gold lost in trying. You may test away till dinner.”

Hodge watched her stir the pot. He imagined her standing there in the same pose, in a red velvet dress and a massive kitchen at her disposal, hair washed and tied back. When they married such a dream lay solely in the heavens, but his heart flooded at the dream's genuine possibility in the present.

“Where’s Heidi?” Hodge asked.

“She left shortly after you did this morning. She must have gone to play with the girls in Greenwich.”

“All day? Kids have much more energy than I did at their age.”

“It’s a long walk, Hodge. I wished you would have taken her to town with you,” Morgan said.

“I would have. Heidi never asked to go.”

Morgan sighed. “Fair enough, but the sun’s about to set. She shouldn’t be out there after dark.”

“She knows that. I wouldn’t worry.”

Morgan didn’t seem comforted by that, but she nodded nevertheless. “Anyway, did you get what you went for at the inn?”

Hodge beamed. “Yes! Best of all, he might even be here today. Jos said he’d tell the man first chance he got.”

“That’s wonderful, I guess. But have you made sleeping arrangements? When’s he supposed to clean? To eat? To sleep? What tasks will he do?”

“He can just sleep on the floor,” Hodge suggested.

She threw him a stern look. “Honestly, you should have looked up on how to host a servant before hiring one. He’s not an animal.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll think about it in time if he proves worthwhile to keep around. He’s trained for the job. I’m sure he’ll have a plan in case we don’t.”

“And where did you learn about him again?”

“A flyer,” Hodge admitted it was a bit crude as if drawn by a child playing with arts and crafts. But it was a rare opportunity in this backwater! The ad didn’t matter if the quality of the servant was superb.

And even if it wasn’t, Hodge imagined he’d be able to afford a replacement in six months or less. A minor inconvenience for a grander reward.

Morgan didn’t say anything further, but her posture said you’re going to regret this.

Hodge didn’t care. In this house–soon to be a manor–he was king. The Rapid Farmer sigma seeded his family’s future. As far as this servant was concerned, Morgan, Heidi and he were royalty.

Hell, if he were as lucky as he was when he stumbled upon Rapid Farmer, maybe they would be one day.

If there was one thing that Morgan was right about, however, it’s that they didn’t want to spoil themselves on the blessings of the rich so quickly, yet it was still so difficult to curb his enthusiasm. Why did the future have to always be so far away?

Hodge kept himself busy with menial housework while he waited for Morgan to be finished. The sun had nearly fallen, but Heidi had not returned. Now he was starting to grow a bit bothered. Morgan tensed with raised shoulders and a pale complexion.

They both jumped when there was a knock at the door.

Hodge’s heart was in his chest as he moved to answer it. There’s nothing to worry about. At the same time, he was asking himself, why haven’t I bought a gun? All the prosperous imported them from the Technocracy, so why had he waited so long?

Not at all ready to face death but not enough of a coward to turn away, Hodge hesitantly opened the front door and almost screamed with an effeminate pitch.

A lone man with dark hair and light skin stood in the doorway, a mischievous yet bright smile on his face. He wore simple clothing and had spots indicating an attraction to the dirt within the past hour. On closer inspection, more like the last ten minutes. His posture was weak, yet his build highlighted years of careful conditioning. He looked young, oh so very young. A hatched adult with a mind absent of wisdom.

It all contrasted with ominous longsword sheathed at his side.

He peeked inside, curious, and then held a note up and began to speak. “This was posted on your front door.”

For some reason, the stranger’s behavior was odd despite the natural aura he emitted. He was definitely out of place, and seemingly oblivious to his surroundings as well.

“Are you Hodge?” he asked.

Reluctantly, Hodge found the words to reply. “Umm…yes. What do you want?”

The stranger smiled. “You asked for me. The old man told me you were accepting my offer.”

“Yes, for the servant–”

“That’s me!”

What? Hodge could not even comprehend what he just told him. From the expression of his wife, Morgan could not either.

The stranger sniffed the air. “Mmm. That smells delicious! I can tell the mistress is a wonderful chef. Oh, it’s getting dark. May I come in, master?”

Hodge looked back between his wife and the stranger as if waiting for her to do something, but she was as lost as him.

“There must be some serious mistake,” Hodge said. “I asked for a servant. You know, like someone who cleans the house, cooks, lays my daughter to bed at night when we are unable to? I mean, I guess a bodyguard’s fine, but I don’t necessarily… need one.” He hesitated at the end before his words came back to bite him. Oh, what he would give for a bodyguard right now.

“I’m not a bodyguard. Well, I guess I could if you wanted me to be. It’s just as the flyer said, I’m a servant,” the stranger said. “Is that why you asked me here? To clean? Cleaning it is.”

He stepped inside, inviting himself in and leaving the note on the table. Then he took his sword from his belt and both Morgan and Hodge wanted to run.

“Do you have someplace for me to leave this? Somewhere safe, of course, for both you and I.”

Hodge shook his head, so the man just left it by the door. Then he took a broom and dustpan and started cleaning. Sure, it was what Hodge asked him to do, but to see the man, this stranger, work so diligently without taking time to sit down and settle in was still a jarring sight.

“Let me know if you need anything at all. I’m here for you this entire week,” he said.

Alarms rang through Hodge’s mind. “Wait, just a week? Not forever?”

The stranger soured. “Unfortunately, yes. I wish I could stay forever, but I have a billion other masters to assist, so I have to limit my time. Although, I hear that there is a sigma that lets you copy yourself indefinitely. If I could get that then–wow! Isn’t this just a wonderful world we live in!”

The hairs on Hodge’s neck raised. He began to believe he might have just invited a lunatic into his home. Was this the real servant anyway? Jos said he would be fast, but this was a little too fast. Would the actual servant arrive later tonight after this one cut their throats in their sleep? Damn it! He wanted a servant primarily for the status, not for this pocket of trouble.

Neither Morgan nor he stopped staring at the stranger while he worked.

“Umm, kind sir, would you mind telling us your name?” Morgan managed to ask.

He looked up, beaming with psychosis. “It’s Zeta. And you don’t need to honor me ‘sir,’ miss. I’m here to serve you.”

He said that, but neither of them had accepted it yet.

“Hmm. Let’s see. You said ‘cleaning, cooking, and…putting your daughter to sleep?’ Where is your daughter, if you don’t mind my asking? I’d love to introduce myself to her as well.”

Like hell you will. Fearing the thought of this man coming anywhere near Heidi, Hodge said, “She’s…away right now.”

Zeta frowned. “I see. The note mentioned her, I think.”

“What?”

“The one at your door. I didn’t read it because it’s not meant for my eyes, master.”

Hodge marched over to the table where Zeta left the note and picked up. He began reading, and his heart dropped.

Morgan watched his body enter clammy, terrified perspiration. “Hodge, what is it!"

Even Zeta had stopped working to show concern.

“Hodge!”

Hodge gulped and recited aloud. “So, you think you’re rich, huh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind donating some Nibbles to our startup enterprise. We’ll be representing Greenwich from the east to west coasts of Axle Island with your funding. I think 10,000 might do.

“Of course, if that money is absent by the end of tomorrow, I’m sure Heidi can help on her own. She'll make a good sale. There’s always some freak out there looking for–”

Hodge had to stop; he would have puked if he kept reading. Morgan did, but she managed to make it to a bowl.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…

First the ‘servant,’ now…

Heidi…

“10,000 Nibbles. That’s everything I’ve saved thus far,” Hodge said. “I’ll go gather–”

“Maybe it’s a prank, Hodge. We need the authorities,” Morgan said.

“No! These men, they signed themselves as the Greenwich Group. They’ve been doing this to the others in town. I’m sure it's real, and any attempt at seeking greater help will reach their ears before help can arrive. God forbid what happens then.”

“Others? And you never warned me?”

“I planned to move us away before the end of the year!” Hodge shook his head, not even trying to hold in tears. "I thought there would be no need to fret when this town sat solely in our shadow.

The only one not affected by any of this was Zeta. The first day on the job and Hodge’s daughter is ransomed. Hodge wondered if Zeta was apart of their plot. No, how could he blame him? This man knew nothing of Hodge's family.

Zeta stopped cleaning and held his hand out, taking the note and examining. For a while, he was indifferent, but by the time he was done, he bit his lip and fumed. Why? Hodge was glad he cared, but for a stranger Zeta’s expression was excessive.

“Master, you said they’ve been doing this for a while, right?” he asked.

Hodge nodded.

“How many victims do you estimate?”

Hodge racked his brains. He still didn’t understand why Zeta cared. “Umm, seven, eight maybe. From what I’ve heard they’ve all been young girls in Greenwich.” Then he buried his head in his hands again. “Dammit! I should’ve seen this coming!"

Morgan walked over. “Hodge, it’s okay.” She said that, but her puffy red eyes fought back waterfalls themselves. “Just get the money.”

“No need.” They heard a voice from the door.

Zeta stood and faced the darkened outdoors. He crumpled the note into a tight ball, tossed it in the air, grabbed and unsheathed his sword and cleanly sliced it into two rough hemispheres.

“Master, mistress, I hope you enjoy your dinner tonight. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, those fools left you a meeting location.”