I shrugged and walked around the golf cart, getting in on the passenger side.

“Ooo, that looks nasty,” Axle said, pointing at my cracked helmet. “I can help you with repairs or replacements if you like.”

An ad screen rose in protest, perfectly blocking his face from my vision while the words PREMIUM REPAIR AND PROTECTION — OUR SERVICE IS GUARANTEED boomed into my ears. I winced and waved it away.

Axle looked at me and grinned. “Yep, BuyMort will do that to you. It doesn’t brook any competition. Anyways, I don’t plan on charging you so BuyMort can go eat trash. You want me to give it a look over and see what I can do?”

I snapped my fingers and reached for my magic sword, Falcor. “Yeah, actually. My sword has been acting weird since the delves,” I said, drawing the blade. It slid easily from the scabbard and showed no signs of any dull patches. The entire blade appeared fuzzy at the edge, just as it had been when it was brand new.

“Huh,” I said, staring at it. I didn’t dare try its edge on anything in the golf cart, so I stuck the tip of the sword into the dirt at our side. It dug a tidy furrow, with almost no drag or resistance translating through the grip.

“Well never mind, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Working perfectly now.” I sheathed the sword and grumpily sat back.

Axle glanced over at me, as we entered the still-under-construction residential portion of the camp. Goblins swarmed all over the twin structures, slathering and stacking mud-crete.

“Is that a ‘magic’ sword?” The Knowles' voice dripped with sarcasm as he said the word magic, and I looked over at him.

“Yes?” I said, uncertain. “At least, that’s what it said it was when I bought it. Don’t think I particularly believe in magic, but it does act magic. It’ll cut anything, except my starfish suit.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of those weapons. I can take a closer look at it later, but my initial assumption is that it’s plain iron, with installed atomic projectors to sharpen the last few micrometers of the blade to a molecularly fine edge, and aid in the destruction of whatever is being cut,” Axle said. “The delves had personal shields, which would disrupt and misalign the atomic projectors on your sword. Keeping it sheathed should self-repair the projectors, and the sword should work fine again in a short period of time.”

The Knowle shrugged. “It’s not magic, because there’s no such thing. But it is effective marketing, there exists an entire subsection of the BuyMort populace who openly believe in magic because of products like that.” Axle shook his head. “Disgraceful lack of product knowledge.”

I looked out over Happy Trails pointedly and he grinned, his canine teeth baring out from under his lip. “Yeah, well, point taken. But they should learn all they can if they want to continue to survive.”

I nodded, though I didn't necessarily agree. Asking every individual to know every single aspect of space and science seemed a bit much. Better to work together and have experts help advise us on the ins and outs of this BuyMort multiverse and its goods.

Plus, honestly, I was just happy to have the mystery of my broken sword behind me. As long as I was more careful with it, it seemed like it would continue being useful. And now I knew to avoid shields with Falcor.

“So there’s just plain no magic at all?” I asked, mildly disappointed.

Axle scoffed and smiled. “There’s no evidence for magic being anything but marketing tricks combined with advanced technology.”

I nodded, frowning in my broken helmet.

As the golf cart cruised into the apartment blocks, I noticed a new structure, tall and spindly, with a bulbous top. Just behind the residential block stood a new water tower made of mud-crete.

“What’s that?” I asked as we drove past it.

Axle glanced over and nodded. “Oh that’s our new d’jhz tower. They’re very easy and cheap to get constructed, and they help with large scale goblin construction projects. Cuts down on costs by allowing d’jhz purchases without bottles, and keeps it all in one dependable place, which makes distribution much easier. Simpler to defend too, if needed.”

"D'JHZ WHOLESALE PREMIUM — SUPER CHEAP, NO HASSLE!" another ad screamed at me. I threw that one away as well.

"'Nother ad?" Axle asked eyeing me sympathetically.

"Yep," I affirmed. "BuyMort seems kinda desperate today."

"Yeah, the algorithm sometimes does that. Usually once someone is starting to become more self-sufficient. Just keep ignoring them and they will lessen somewhat."

I shrugged and nodded. “Sounds good to me. Yeah make as many towers as you need to. We have these gobbs running around all the time these days.”

“Indeed,” replied Axle. “The tower will also ensure a decent supply, should the d’jhz market turn too expensive.”

He pointed ahead of us, at the end of the apartment complex. A modest opening in the ground was visible, and our gobbs were building a mud-crete support structure.

They were building a box out of thick mud-crete pillars, each connecting to create a basic cube shaped support, over the hole in the ground.

“Once that is done, it’ll be the basis for our first three elevator designs. Won’t need to make structural changes to it for a while,” the Knowle said. He pointed with a claw as the golf cart eased to a stop.

“There’ll be a top bar of steel across the middle, with reinforcing mud-crete structure on both sides. The first elevator we install will be very simple, hand operated. But the additional metal structure we install later today will ensure we can afix a powered elevator here without needing to bring back a major construction crew,” Axle explained.

More ads screamed by. I felled a dozen in a single swat. That would probably go through BuyMort or an existing affiliate, but no need to let the AI know that yet. Let it sweat.

I nodded slowly. “That sounds great, thank you Axle. What else you got for me?”

“Well,” he said. “Not all that much yet, it’s still quite early. The extra apartment in the spider ranch is not a problem, I have a crew working on that now. Drusk appears to be quite helpful in that regard, I have him managing the gobbs. He’s familiar with goblin handling protocols, a very useful skill. Saves us a hobb, and we’re short on those today.”

He frowned, the expression nearly comical on his canid face. “I suppose I could show you the waterworks, it’s nearly done.” Axle pressed the accelerator pedal, kicking the golf cart back into motion. We cruised down the line of gobb workers.

The little green creatures worked diligently, but I saw more than one of them standing and staring at the d’jhz tower, clutching their personal bottles. The apartment complex was really beginning to take shape. Each individual unit had curved walls around the entryway, ensuring privacy and extra security.

The buildings were being built around the existing mud-crete huts. The gobb workers were adding walls, expanding rooms, and increasing the general footprint of the structures. Each hut was becoming interconnected with the rest in its line, and several large, multi-room living units were being constructed.

My human population was mostly out and about, walking in the sun or watching the little green men running around their new homes and wondering when they were going to leave. I imagined the constant construction was a significant downside to life at Silken Sands, and wondered when the complaints were going to start rolling in.

Axle waved a huge, shaggy arm at a mud-crete mound being erected near the south wall. “There it is. The waterworks.”

My new waterworks appeared to be a simple dome, built over the old well. A door was evident, as were several recently dug trenches exiting the building and snaking across the desert toward the other structures.

“I’ve got water nearly up and running to every residential structure being built, the spider ranch, and the medical portion of the underground. Most of their piping was in good order, I used the Fumble-Bees to do the scouting. Very useful device, we should keep it charged and in use as often as possible,” Axle said.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, Quadrum shorted it out when they arrived,” I said.

“Well, we’ll need to replace several dozen bees, they appear to have been permanently lost when our beholder guest helped contain our Sleem. I suspect those drones were in the Sleem cavern below, when it was sealed and filled.”

Axle got out of the cart and approached the new waterworks dome.

“But no matter. This waterworks will still act as a simple well if needed, or if the piping becomes damaged. But now, your home, and most of the others, have easy access to clean drinking water.”

“Can I take a shower?” I asked.

“Of course. I took the liberties of installing a hot water heater left here by Leahcim, as part of our original furnishings shipment,” Axle replied.

“Oh, we should purchase another of those," he added. "The new people are very short on furniture, and clothing. The yarsps came before they could get most things packed, and apparently Tollya promised them you would take care of it.”

I nodded. “I’m glad she did, probably kept them focused on their grow equipment, that was much more important. How much for another two shipments?”

Axle swiped at the air in front of himself and added an order to the affiliate’s cart. “About half a million morties, give or take. I chose a large order, as I suspect we are looking at more growth, assuming Dearth doesn’t get us first.” His eyes went wide as he remembered something, and he snapped his claws.

“Did you get the weaponry?” The Knowle asked.

“We did. It was ugly, but we did,” I answered.

“Any of them left standing?” he asked.

I snorted lightly and shook my head. “Yeah, most of them. They have fuel production capabilities, and a persistent need for food.”

Axle moved back to the golf cart and crammed himself in the seat. He fit but had to scrunch down his neck to be able to see. “Sounds like a match made in heaven. With the yarsp attacks each morning, we should have more than enough to feed them.”

“I’m ending those attacks tomorrow, though,” I said, brow furrowed. “I worry about our own food after that.”

“Why end them?” Axle asked simply.

I scowled at the ground, thinking about his question. The creatures were dangerous, for certain, but profitable. Even just their chitin everyday could pay my entire staff if we kept collecting and selling it, and now that we had more hobbs coming, with plenty of guns to get them equipped, it seemed to be in our interest to keep the yarsps around.

“My original plan had been to hit them for the bounty. Dearth is willing to pay fifty million morties for their bounty tag back. Jada tells me this is an abnormally large number of yarsps to encounter,” I answered, after a long moment.

“Indeed. There must be a ready, and extremely large supply of meat nearby,” Axle replied. “Yarsps are carnivorous, aside from all the soil they consume while digging. The size of a hive is always in direct correlation with its supply of meat.”

“Huh,” I said, frowning. “Based on the numbers we’ve already seen, how much meat do these yarsps have access to?”

“Tons. At least two tons per day, to support not only the numbers and losses we’ve seen, but the sheer growth of their hive after each. The queen of this hive seems nearly unfettered, simply breeding as much as is possible,” Axle said, turning on the golf cart again.

As we pulled away, I glared at the ground. “Could it be Dearth, feeding them to overwhelm us?” I finally asked.

Axle drove toward Phyllis’ place, and I saw that her mech was already hung from its dock station, tiny robotic arms working to repair and replace any portions of slagged armor.

The Knowle nodded. “It could be, but I rather doubt it, based on the bounty. While it is certainly not impossible for an affiliate as titanically massive as Dearth to mix up their priorities and place a bounty on their own project, I don’t think so in this case,” he said.

We pulled into my driveway, heading between the privacy mounds to my place, where gobb workers swarmed, amid a hobb overseer who turned away as we approached. It looked like Hord.

Axle stopped the cart in front of their construction zone, and I looked at my place. I could feel a bubble of pride rise up in my chest.

Dearth was going to probably wipe us out in a few days. The smart move right now would probably be to run for the hills. But, no, this was home.

This was a place worth dying for.