《Tenshot》Chapter 49 - "Out of the Wasteland's Hazy Horizon"
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Tenner withheld no power from his slaps to Ames’ and Gi’s faces. They had to get up. Fast. Ames was the first to show signs of life, groaning, groping her machine-gun. Tenner grabbed her hand, wrapped his other arm around her back and raised her to her feet. Ames’ eyes opened and she found her balance in a moment.
“Levita trail,” Tenner said. “We stopped in the middle of a levita trail.”
“Levita trail.” Ames’ groggy mind turned the word upside down, sniffed it, licked it, and tried to find its meaning. Then it hit her. “Shit -- levita trail!”
She hurried out into the engine room.
Tenner turned back towards Gi’s bed. The hench, like a robot, sat upright in a snap. His eyes widened.
“Huh, I think I need to get the engines going”--he started towards the engine room as well--”and get us out of here.”
Before a minute passed, life and chaos returned to The Wasteland Caravan. Engines purred. Holograms flickered into existence. Tenner dashed towards the napping morono. The rising dust in the air bruised his skin and roughened his breath.
The mist’s already here.
Activating [Animal Tamer], Tenner awoke the morono, scaled the creature’s back and reignited the lamp hanging off its head.
The Wasteland Caravan’s engines lifted it off the ground and the Morono dragged it forwards.
The mist thickened to blinding walls. The morono’s lamp gave a little light. Enough for Tenner to find his way. Gi was throwing tools about and adjusting the engine’s wires. Ames stared at the mapchip and muttered to herself. “I’m just one long dumb mistake. A damn levita trail.”
Tenner turned off the mapchip and grabbed Ames by the shoulders, sitting her down on the floor.
“No, don’t say that. You’re not that. Except for the fact that we could die, this is a good sign,” Tenner spoke, picking his words carefully. “Levita trails lead somewhere and, in our case, it’s towards Realm 676. Endless levels and Blackglove’s demise. Maybe even the pinnacle of civilization… if Chisel didn’t lie.”
Ames' mood picked up. “Sure.”
“Now, get on your feet -- we’ve gotta get out of here.”
Tenner stood up and gave Ames a hand. As she found her balance, The Wasteland Caravan quaked and tipped, and Ames flew over the engines and over Gi. Holding her hand, Tenner was thrown as well.
[Predator has succeeded! Manipulating being’s perception…]
He reacted in a split second, slowing the passage of time around himself. What do I do? he wondered. In two seconds, we’ll crash through the Caravan’s walls and fall into the wasteland, where we’ll get lost in the dust.
His gaze rose up to his feet and the layer of wires, like branches, holding up the tent ceiling.
Midair, Tenner flipped, getting his feet stuck in the wires. Perfect. They were stopped from falling into the wasteland. Ames hung from his hand, her teeth gritted and her eyes danced in a panic.
“Just hold on.” With his free hand, Tenner tore a wire on the ceiling in half. A rope to hold on. Gi grunted and followed it with an enraged “hey!” -- a part of the engine died. Tenner apologized and clasped the wire, and unstuck his foot.
Tenner started swinging. After a few tries, he threw Ames towards the exit. She held the tent flaps. She stuck her head out and started shouting orders.
“Seven degrees east! Two degrees west! Speed up a little or a levita will crush us!”
From holding himself with one hand and Ames with another, his muscles burned.
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[Congratulations! Gained perk: I Endure Your Worst Nightmare I ]
When the message disappeared, the pain got worse.
What sort of pain endurance perk makes it hurt more?! He ranted in his head to keep his thoughts away from the agony, the steaming sweat trickling down his body. The cacophony of sounds--wind, dust, Ames’ orders, the roar of the engine--dizzied him. But all pain passed. He knew that. He’d endured far worse and kept holding on. I don’t care how much it hurts. The robotdragon packed a stronger punch than I ever could, but I outlasted it in the end.
Endure. Persevere. Endure. Persevere…
The quaking eased and the dust settled. An expression of relief took hold of Ames’ face as she stopped spouting orders. They were out of the levita trail.
Tenner let go of her then landed on the floor in a crouch. He let some energy return to his body. I feel like an enslaved morono, he thought, grateful that the CHEK didn’t show an energy bar -- it would be dismally low.
The Wasteland Caravan chugged away along the dust clouds of the levita trail. Ames cleaned the mess and Gi fixed the parts and mechanisms that got damaged. Tenner laid on the floor, laserpistol in his grip, waiting for a Realm to emerge out of the hazy horizon.
Clack, clack. Foosh, clack.
A strange--albeit familiar--sound echoed into the Wasteland Caravan. He sprung upright, brow furrowed. A few seconds brought back a slew of memories. His ears perked up, hunting for the sound. The source was clear, but his mind refused to believe it.
He activated [Predator] and the sound echoed once more. Now, the world around him vanished, leaving the Wasteland Caravan and a clear view of how the sound came to his ears, a cane’s sweeping and clacking that caused it.
It could still be a desolation wandering creature or a wastelander.
In the face of overwhelming evidence, Tenner needed more -- he equipped [The Smellings of Blood]
Ames’ and Gi’s blood and heartbeats overwhelmed his nose, but there was a third, faint scent. The scent of an old person, hurrying across the plains of The Great Crater. Tenner hung off the side of The Wasteland Caravan, observing their surroundings.
A trail of wisps of dust followed the Wasteland Caravan. The source of the sound and the scent.
“We meet once again,” Tenner announced. He couldn’t help, but chuckle at the absurdity. “Turn off the engines, Gi. An old face is following us around and I have an idea how to put him to good use.”
The Wasteland Caravan slumped to the ground. The engines went silent. Tenner landed beside the vessel and hurried up to the morono, then laid a combination of taps on the creature’s neck. It froze.
Where is that old lunarist? Tenner searched. Then, as the others' curious looks turned irritated, an itch spawned on Tenner’s back. He spun on his heel and The Walking Canyon appeared... Grinning his usual mischievous grin…
***
There The Walking Canyon stood, with all the glory of his torn rags and bent cane and wrinkly face. His grin was wide, rubbing discomfort into Ames and Gi. Their hands rested on their weapons. But Tenner kept his hands far away from the belt. It and the armory hanging off it was like an old enemy, waiting for the moment to grab him with its attractive heat, wailing lasers…
Yes, the old geezer had wronged him. No, he did not deserve to die. Tenner had a use for him.
“How’d you end up here?” he asked. The old geezer scribbled his words on the ground. Tenner read them aloud, “Searching for who would appreciate my talents… “ He looked up, said, “of making canyons and scamming desolation travelers out of their hard earned money?”
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The Walking Canyon nodded and scribbled more.
“CANYON MAKE BIG IMPACT IN WORLD. CANYON KILL BIG CREATURE. CANYON USEFUL.”
Tenner wiped the words away with his foot and set his hand on a search in the depths of his pockets. It came out with a pile of creditcoins, which he’d gotten in exchange for credits in a small town. They rested in his pockets in case there was a merchant who didn’t have a CHEKscan.
Tenner chucked the money at The Walking Canyon. Surprised, he fumbled about and grabbed a few while the rest fell around him.
“I need you to do what you do best,” Tenner said. “It has to be big.”
“I’LL NEED MORE 4 BIG.”
Something clicked in Tenner. Something that muted the disgust of murder, the memories of the past. In a split second, he’d unsheathed his axe and rammed it against the man’s neck.
“Remember when you took all I had at the gates of Realm 224? That was half. What I gave you now is the other half. Now, give me a canyon. The biggest you can.”
His mind caught up with what his body had done. Its moves impressed him, but scared him as well. If I’d rammed the blade any harder, there’d be a pool of blood at my feet.
The Walking Canyon grinned nervously and hastily started tapping, spinning and rubbing his wand.
“Huh?” Gi stared at the ritual.
“This the guy you told us about? The one who let you into the Realm?” Ames asked.
“The one and only--as far as I know--who has a perk like that,” Tenner answered.
“Isn’t it an atrocious idea to trust him?” She looked sideways
“If he pulls anything, my knuckles will beat his ass into a feed for the blakills,” Gi said, “then I’ll grab that stick and turn it into a steelmeat that carves canyons. It’s not that hard. You need some rare parts, but I’ll replace those with the teeth I beat out of his mouth.”
“You’re ahead of yourself Gi, first -- why do we need a canyon?!”
“You’ll see.” Tenner smirked.
The Walking Canyon finished and jumped. As the old geezer’s feet left the ground, where he’d stood, a wisp of dust rose and black lines cracked into existence on both sides of it. As the old geezer’s feet touched the ground, he vanished.
“What…?” Ames stepped forward.
And Tenner pushed her back without missing a beat. “Another step and you’ll be kissing the core of the planet,” he said. “The Walking Canyon didn’t go anywhere. I can still smell his blood. [Mirage is My Home] hides him from us so he can watch and giggle.”
Under the wisp of dust, a sinkhole formed and the lines widened. And the ground rumbled. Before [The Smellings of Blood] ran out, Tenner could sense Ames’ and Gi’s heartbeats jump. Clouds of dust arose. The hench and the mastermind backed off. Tenner stood until the edges of the new canyon reached his feet. Then, he jumped in.
A few screams echoed behind him then the ground’s rocking drowned every sound out.
Ames and Gi were certainly not as used to jumping into dark pits to their death as Tenner was.
Tenner’s axe slashed into the ravine’s wall. Activating [Predator], the slightest bumps became mountains under the soles of his feet, and he jumped from one to another, and his blade reddened from slicing rocks. The engraving process, where any wrong step called death’s services, lasted forever in his mind, yet when he finished and clambered out, a total of a dozen seconds had passed. Then he sensed his heartbeat. Well, more than sensed -- it girated his body with every thump.
“Have a look.” He wiped some dust from his forehead.
Eyes wide and confused, Ames and Gi scuttled forth, peeking into the ravine. Gi’s face lit up. He was the first to see the “Molly was here” that Tenner had inscribed in the stone.
They stared inside for several minutes, going down memory after memory. The Walking Canyon was running away with the coins Tenner had planned to steal back, but now the money didn’t matter.
After another moment of silence, he spoke, “I spent my time in Realm 224 killing countless people. I had to make at least someone from there live forever. Let’s go now. Blackglove’s still on our trail.”
The Caravan’s great, big mechanisms restarted, the morono awoke from its momentary slumber, and with Ames and Gi aboard, the vessel rocked onwards to Realm 676.
At the beginning of the journey, however long or soon ago that was, Tenner extorted, tortured and frustrated Gi to the end of the world to get a tape player. Ever since, his chest of cassettes expanded with every naive bandit and trading outpost they came across. Now, into the flimsy player, Tenner slid Gray Sunday’s “Paranoia”.
The beginning riffs of the first track blasted out from the speakers, hiding the sounds of the parts and mechanisms breaking down within the engine, attracting every creature in a kiloeter’s radius.
The day aged into a scarlet afternoon. From the hazy and shifting horizon of heat and dust, a town emerged.
An ancient wall stretched for kilometers around the hamlet. Out of the wall and the raggedy buildings--shanty metal huts like in Realm 224’s slums, cubes of apartments tangled in machines--a vast web of wires emerged and held a massive blimp that loomed above.
The Wasteland Caravan hovered closer to the town.
Far behind it, a Realm emerged out of the horizon’s haze. A massive structure that made one awe at the power and brilliance of humanity. This rectangle monolith stood leaning, giving Tenner the impression that at any moment, it could lose its balance, and come crashing down along with the sky and the clouds, and that it could forever bury half of the desolation under tons of rubble.
Gi cut the engines and Tenner tapped the neck of Morono, ordering it to stop. It roared, then yawned, then abided. The vessel stopped at the shut gates of the town. Above, laserturrets aimed down on them.
“I hope they’re friendly and let us through. And if they aren’t, I could destroy everyone hiding behind those walls.” Tenner entertained the thought. The dark part of him still missed Realm 224’s slums. The chaos with no consequences.
“Have you seen those guns?! Are you insane?!” Ames and Gi said in unison then the latter continued, “You’ve gotta wait until I craft you some bombs--”
Ames slapped him. “No. Period. We’re not destroy a town--”
“And, well, no reasonable person does that anyway,” Tenner said. “My plan was to kill everyone standing in our way, not destroy the entire town. Big difference.”
“Doesn’t matter -- we are not doing that,” Ames snapped. “We’ll negotiate our way through. I’ll do the talking. There’s no need to waste time and credits and parts that could be used for Blackglove’s death.”
Tenner smiled at Ames. He was grateful to have a mastermind, a diplomat, who would do all the talking for him. In fact, over the journey, he recluded more and more into silence. It was a beautiful thing of perfect balance.
Ames and Gi stood a step from the gates. String-like lasers reinforcing it came into view. The town spared nothing for safety.
Tenner put his hand on the resting Morono, warmth and energy seeping into him. The touch of a friendly creature filled him with life. His muscles strengthened. The world seemed more vibrant. Was it an [Animal Tamer] effect? Was it all along in his blood?
Tenner let go and walked up to his friends, and a light from the gate scanned them.
[Welcome to Wirehaven! Please, no matter what, do not enter our wonderful town: not to disturb our boring everyday lives and the difficult effort of rebuilding worldwide communications using zeppelins! Leave now! Get out! You are un-welcomed!]
“You are un-welcomed,” Tenner repeated the last line before the screen disappeared. “They made the message clear at least four times: we either look like a band of villains or they’re desperately trying to hide a secret.”
“Back in 224, gangs did this all the time,” Ames said. “They’d put spikes everywhere, graffitis on the walls that’d say ‘if you see this, run’ and all that nonsense. Wirehaven wants to be left alone, but they’re definitely up for negotiations.”
She stared up at the sky. And shouted, trying to get through to someone on the other side. After some time, a new screen appeared.
[Can’t you read?!]
Ames grinned
“Yes, but we need to pass! We can offer you a deal!!”
The thin lasers reinforcing the gate disappeared and the whole barricade creaked open, revealing a view into the town. Ahead of Tenner, Ames and Gi, an almost hypnotized crowd stood. A hundred or so… people? Hopefully, people. They wore masks that were tangled in wires and covered their whole heads. From the masks, throbbing cables connected to a cube battery held in the inhabitants’ hands.
A rhythmic hush, hush, hush resonated from the crowd.
Is that their breathing? Tenner thought. Or are they telling us to shut up?
“Huh, Iron Lungs,” Gi said, adjusting his mask. “I read about them once. It’s the only way for these people to live in towns without Realms.”
“The Wasteland Caravan passed countless towns before here. I didn’t see a single Iron Lung.”
“Everyone else uses masks, right, but these lunarists must’ve used up all their slim batteries for that zeppelin of theirs so they’re stuck with these ancient devices.”
“Maybe they need stronger masks for some sort of reason.” Ames had another theory. Indeed, the air here had a strange scent.
A figure through the mesmerized crowd. This person wore a black suit. As they stopped in front, they dropped their cube battery to the ground and began speaking,
“Welcome, welcome, travelers to the extraordinary--hush, hush, hush--and extraordinarily normal Wirehaven!” The person took a long pause. “Some call me the face, yes, the face of the city. Personally, I think of myself as the guide. Nonetheless--hush, hush, hush--I speak on the behalf of every citizen: leave.”
Ames stepped forward. The guide flinched backwards, tripped over their battery and fell on their haunches. Ames extended a hand and made a shaking motion.
“Ah, yes,” the guide clambered to their feet and shook her hand. “So--hush, hush, hush--why haven’t you left?”
“I promise we’ll leave, but through the other end -- we’re heading for Realm 676.”
“Nope, you leave from where you came from, you shan’t disturb the peace of our peaceful town.”
“What if we slip you a hundred creds?”
“Then you will leave broke.”
“Sorry,” Ames said without a tinge of sorriness in her voice. In fact, it sounded like an order for the guide to apologize. “We are in a fight with Blackglove. You know that name. You know that every second we lose could strike us with death. If you don’t let us pass, Blackglove could catch up. Here. And, because we’re running, doesn’t mean we’re weak. The opposite, actually. Our battle will be catastrophic and most of your town will be destroyed. The damage will be like you’ve never seen…”
Ames trailed off yet her lips still moved. Tenner could feel one of her perks activating.
You sly, sly mastermind.
The guide’s retinas expanded and all of the muscles in his face stiffened.
“You three obviously want to enter Wirehaven. There is one condition on which I can allow that: you leave that beast behind and travel to the Circle of Chiefs.”
“And they’ll decide to let us through?”
“Neigh!” the guide exclaimed. “They’ll do what they’ll do. Follow me. Don’t get lost.”
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