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The Daily Grind - Chapter 169
🕑 Added 2021-11-06 01:36:32 +0000 UTCNext week, a mountain. This week, feelings and stuff I guess?
You know, it's weird - and we're going on a slight tangent here that I wasn't really planning on - but when I started writing The Daily Grind, it was mostly an ironic, sort of sarcastic backlash to all the really overly aggressive and macho litRPGs out there. I wanted something that was a little more fun, but also where the worldbuilding could explore in ways beyond just "the characters recognize what a goblin is for the millionth time." Worldbuilding was the whole point, at the start. I don't know *when* exactly it happened, but the transition to being an author who really likes to write people getting into the weeds on why and how they feel things has been kind of a strange experience. I hope everyone likes it, I guess? But also I still want to do worldbuilding, so there's a mountain next week or something where I can pour weird monster ideas.
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
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“The problem with the rat race is, even if you win, you’re still a rat.” -Lily Tomlin-
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“I got the most interesting call from the FBI last night.” Sarah informed James as he stepped out of the telepad arrival zone.
Telepads could, technically, go anywhere. But they often took things like ‘my office’ or ‘behind my desk’ to be suggestions, not actual directions. So the arrival areas were set up to correct the occasional *problem*. Marked off areas on the floor that had patterns you could sketch out, and the telepads would never miss. Or at least, hadn’t missed yet.
They still wrote down ‘the one at this address’. The Order wasn’t stupid, and at least one person was aware of the fact that someone could intercept a teleport if they knew how it worked just by marking their own floor. Redundancies were important. Two factor teleportation.
“The FBI, you say?” James pretended to act surprised. “What did they want?”
“Mostly to tell me that I was going to throw my life away and end up in jail for decades if I didn’t roll over and play nice.” Sarah’s face was still smiling, but there was a vicious note in her voice James didn’t tend to hear often. “I said yes, obviously.”
“Oh? Well. Curse you and your sudden and unexpected betrayal, I guess.”
“That’s not the right line! Say the line!” Sarah admonished him.
James kept walking toward the elevator, letting Sarah fall in behind him as he made his way out of the basement and up to their California office. “I’m not *that* much of a blatant plagiarist.” He snorted. “Also, how many people got calls?” James let his voice turn serious.
“Everyone you’d expect. Not Nate, though. Haven’t heard from JP or Dave.” Sarah filled him in. “No one who got hit hard by the Office’s memeplex, but everyone we’ve hired since then. No one’s quit yet, and as far as I know, everyone reported it. If anyone didn’t, I guess we wouldn’t know, but, well. We’re not spying on everyone. Duh.”
“Duh, indeed.” James nodded as the doors opened and he stepped off the elevator. “No one quit?”
“Well, you know! Most of the people in Response are there because fuck the police, right? A threatening call from the Big Police isn’t gonna convince them otherwise.” Sarah threw her arms into the air. “I don’t get why they think the answer to ‘there is too much abuse of authority’ is *more* abuse of authority! Just stop doing that, and it’s fine!”
James smiled sadly as he high fived the potted plant, and stopped at the vending machine to grab something random. “It’s a little more complicated than that.” He informed her, swirling the can his drink came in around as he checked it for an orb. “You’re assuming the goal is to eliminate the abuse. Which… ugh. But whatever, back on track. We’re still kicking?”
“Boots and all.” His friend nodded at him. “Though against what is kind of up in the air, I guess. It’s not like anyone’s been secret-arrested. Yet!”
“Don’t jinx us.” James grimaced, opening the door to his office.
Nate was waiting inside. “You know, if you don’t lock your door, anyone could just come in here and bug everything.” He told James bluntly, as he stood suspiciously behind James’ desk rearranging his bookshelf.
James just gave him a flat look. “Stop searching my office.” He said. “I don’t even keep the good porn here.”
“Please, *please* do not keep your porn here.” Nate didn’t miss a beat as he circled around the desk. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Yeah, the FBI is…”
“No, not… okay, we’ve got two problems. Though I’m not sure the Bureau is the problem we think it is.”
James slid into his chair and let it spin him around once before he kicked to a stop behind his desk, cracking open the can of Fizz Juice he’d gotten from the vending machine. “I don’t believe you.”
“Threats, harassment, probably bribery, this is the kind of stuff they do when they can’t just arrest an entire problem.” Nate said. “It’s why it was the go-to for civil rights stuff. Too many people to really bring the hammer down on. But it’s *not* a contemporary tactic, at least that I know of. So to use it here, it means they don’t think they could just break the organization.”
“Well yeah, they literally cannot find us.” James said. “Unless they’re playing the *long* game. But seriously. I don’t think they’re an immediate threat, and I have no intention of upgrading them to that until something actually *happens* beyond just vaguely coercive phone calls to people who are already inclined to not listen.”
Nate ran a hand across his smooth head. “Alright. Well, I’ll go with your say for now. But we’ve got options if you want to hit em back. Just so you know.”
“...Options like…?” James’ voice was more suspicious than curious.
“Targeted blackmail, financial pressure, assassination if it gets bad enough.” Nate shrugged. “The usual.”
“No.” James deadpanned.
“Absolutely not!” Sarah added in. “No murdering people!”
Nate gave her a contemptuous look. “Doesn’t make a difference to you that it would be more convenient for them if we were all dead?”
“No! Murder bad! Why’s it so hard for boys to learn that?!” Sarah slapped James’ desk. “James learned it! James hates learning things!”
“First off, ow.” James frowned. “Actually, that kinda does hurt. I like learning things! Also my relationship with my gender is ambivalent at best. Especially considering I’ve been Alanna at least a dozen times.”
Sarah flushed red. “I’m sorry! I was trying to use you to make a point. Sorry, sorry. That was really mean, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, you seem angry. About the murder.” James pivoted back to Nate. “The murder you are absolutely not to do, please. I’m *iffy* on you and JP hijacking traffic cams or snooping on emails that are from people already flagged as threats. But I’m absolutely in the no camp for teleport-murders.”
“What if we only targeted…”
“Nate, come on.” James sighed. “You won’t let me steal nukes, and I won’t let you pick off government employees. It’s a fair trade.”
“No, it isn’t. But I’ll drop it for now. The plans don’t go away just because you don’t need them. Also, you were the one who was talking the other day about where the line is for self defense, when it comes to political power and influence.”
James nodded. “That’s true. And I’m okay with us pushing back if they decide to lean into the harassment thing. But going from threatening phone calls to murder is an escalation I don’t want to deal with. Even if only for the reason that they have predator drones.”
Nate gave an easy shrug and tilt of his head. “Your funeral. Anyway. I’ve got lunch to make. You two have fun figuring out if I bugged your office to prove a point.”
“What was the other problem!?” James called after him as the tattooed chef headed out of his office.
Nate paused to half step back around the door. “Oh, I was gonna complain about Sysco delivery drivers. But your stuff is more important, and I don’t want to get into it today. Have fun with that.” He turned and vanished.
Sarah caught James’ eye with raised eyebrows. “Do you think he actually bugged your office?”
“Nah. He’d have to be super lazy to have only done it now. Also I don’t care.” James leaned back as far as his chair would let him without pitching backward. “Hey, can you help me with something?” He asked her.
“Sure, that’s what friends do.” Sarah gave him a shining smile, the room lighting up as she broadcast happiness.
James grinned back and shook his head in marvel at how she could do that. “Okay. We’re going to the mountain next week, all things working out. I just want to figure out who, actually, is going.”
“How many people do you want?” Sarah asked. “Because that’s kind of relevant.”
“From Momo’s experience, I don’t think we want more than six or seven.” James said. “The place is harsh, has low visibility, and it would be too easy to get separated. I want a group small enough that we can’t accidentally lose track of half the party.”
“Mh. But wouldn’t you just then have two parties?” Sarah asked. “Why not take literally everyone… no nevermind.”
“Yeah, because we are absolutely not an organization entirely composed of superheroes.” James reminded her. “I know that’s actually easy to fix, but most of our magic stuff works best inside a civilization, and not on Mt. Doom.”
“Is that what they named it?” She asked with a smirk.
“I actually don’t know. I’m meeting Morgan, Color-Of-Dawn, and Liz later to ask. Apparently Chevoy didn’t want to take part in naming anything. She just muttered something about an engineer’s curse and then wandered off?”
“That’s probably not a real thing.”
“Yeah, I think she made it up.” James shrugged. “Anyway. Do you wanna come?”
“Oh heck no!” Sarah answered instantly. “Sounds awful! Like, I don’t want you to die, and I trust you and stuff, but it sounds cold and miserable, and I’m just gonna farm an extra batch of purples to copy while you’re gone.”
“What! We had a whole bonding moment over this! We were gonna...do the whole thing together!” James threw his head back. “I’ll be all alone now! Surrounded by strangers!”
“Strangers and the two people you love most in the world?” Sarah quipped.
James paused in his answer. “You know, it’s weird, I don’t know how to answer that? But also yes, that. Sort of. Ah. It’s weird, my brain instantly rebels against saying ‘most’ to anything. Playing favorites. Whatever.”
“It’s okay to be uncertain of things, ya know.” Sarah told him. “I don’t think anyone is gonna take it personally.”
“Bah!” James barked. “I live in a constant state of expecting people to take things personally! It’s honestly not that healthy, probably. Anyway. We can unpack my rapidly degrading mental state later; roster! Who do we tap for our first mountain climbing trip?”
Sarah stared at her friend with a comical frown and squinted eyes, before eventually relenting as James just gave her a puppy dog look of innocence in return. She wasn’t *done* arguing with him about his own self worth, but they could circle back to that. “Fiiiiiine.” She gasped out. “Okay. Here’s a thought. Take some new people?”
“Um… new, how?” James asked. “Because I was going to say we should make sure people have dungeon survivability powers in some way. You know, not get anyone killed. Also I dunno if I trust the new people with my life?” He paused. “Wait, hang on. That’s weird. They came to work with us because they *are* the kind of people worth trusting. Dammit! My brain is getting stuck in the world’s way of thinking, and I’m forgetting what we’re supposed to be.” He looked around the room. “I have an *office*. When did this happen?”
“You needed somewhere people could make appointments to talk to you. Even though you are *never here*.” Sarah instantly dropped back into the mock glower for a second. “But yeah! We’ve got some cool new people. Take, like, Bill or Mark! Take *Marjorie*! She’d probably… no, no. Nevermind.”
James cleared his throat. “El’s mom?” He asked. “Isn’t she… okay, I know magic makes the line fuzzy, but isn’t she a bit old?”
“She’s only fifty five, but she has some other reasons to probably not go, that aren’t my place to talk about.” Sarah shrugged. “Take El, maybe? Or, or! Ask the whole Order, then go from there!”
“Like, put up a public notice that we’ve got a new dungeon and need delvers… wait, did we become an adventurer’s guild? God dammit, this is exactly why I called us an order!”
Sarah giggled. “Look, it’s not like you’re assigning quests to kill ten rats in the sewers… are you? Wait, I said it, and then I thought it. Is that a thing we’re doing?”
James rolled his eyes at her. “No, that is not a thing we’re doing.” He spun his chair back and forth as he thought. “Anyway. New people would probably be good. I just worry that they won’t have the buildup of mostly purples, right?”
“We’ve got armory packages ready to go.” Sarah said. “We can rapidly make someone harder to kill. Which is good, given… all of this.” Her voice faltered a bit.
James noticed. It was hard not to. Sarah was… not a subtle person. And it was clear she was having a lot of trouble keeping her smile in place lately. Not all the time, but sometimes. More and more, there were stumbling blocks that hit her really hard. The deaths of their friends, the hostility of the world. Sarah just wanted everyone to be happy together, and be happy with them. In a way, James saw a lot of his own worldview in her; the desire to build a better tomorrow, to lift others up with him, to see the best in everyone. But he also saw the cracks when that ran up against what they’d been through.
The world, and the people in it, often *weren’t* nice. Weren’t kind. They disappointed her, more so than they did him. Status Quo, the Mechanic, now the FBI, the Order had no shortage of people who didn’t seem inclined to just sit down and discuss how to improve things. Entrenched powers with no interest in talking, only using force to get what they wanted.
And he could clearly see it was tearing her up. Because to James, those people were… obstacles. He’d navigate around them, or, if not given the choice, *through* them. But his remorse for acting in self defense against people who’d decided they were more monsters than most life forms that came from the dungeons was *low*. To Sarah, though? Every death was a tragedy. And the cost in their own lives was already higher than James would ever be okay with. To her, it must feel like being trapped under the proverbial mountain.
“Hey.” He said out loud, blinking a concerned look at her. “Do you wanna go get a coffee later and just hang out for a while?”
Sarah sniffed slightly, and looked away to wipe at the corner of her eye, before she turned back, smile back in place like everything was fine. “Maybe!” She said. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do for the podcast, and-”
“Hey.” James interrupted her with a soft smile. “We should go get a coffee later, and just hang out for a while.”
“...Yeah…” Sarah said with a tired emphasis. “Yeah, okay.”
“Alright.” James said, still smiling at her. “Now go get your podcast stuff done. If you see anyone who seems like they might want to risk their life climbing a mountain, send them my way.” He paused. “Actually, here’s a question; do you think the camracondas might like it?”
“Frequency-Of-Sunlight might. But she’s kinda into the whole ‘risking life and mechanical limb’ thing.” Sarah thought for a second. “I’ll ask em though! Heck, we’ve got a more and more diverse roster in terms of species these days. We should make the effort to actually mix things up.”
“Affirmative action in action?” James smirked.
“I mean, sort of! The camracondas, and now the ratroaches, are full sophonts who are starting with literal nothing. Not even a society! They can’t… like, our world is occupied by people who may not accept them, covered in cities that weren’t built for them. None of them have families, bank accounts, or driver’s licenses.” Sarah gave James a wide eyed look. “It’s bad! And we *should* help them!”
James held up his index finger. “Texture-Of-Barkdust has a bank account.”
“What? How?!”
“I don’t actually know? I think we tricked the bank by adding her to someone else’s account, then removing that person. But, like, I get your point. Actually, I should check in with the ratroaches. See how they’re acclimating to Tennessee, and then see if either of them want to come along.” James nodded. “Okay. Let’s round up a few potentials. I’ll meet you later tonight?”
“You’ll *probably* meet me when lunch is served, because Nate is making burritos, and you haven’t been replaced by a mimic.” Sarah quipped as she kicked herself off of the chairs she’d assembled into a bench, and rolled to her feet. “I’ll see who’s interested. Oh! Don’t forget to get the name of the mountain! I’m excited for that!”
“...You already know it, don’t you?” James narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re too smug. You *do*! They already talked to you!”
“Gotta go! Bye!” Sarah bolted out his door, ducking under a passing Karen’s arm, only barely avoiding knocking her drink to the floor. “Sorry! I’ll explain later!” James heard her yell from down the hall.
Karen paused in James’ office door, turning her head without moving the rest of her body or shifting the manilla folder full of paperwork she was holding to look at him. “There’s a budget report sitting under your keyboard. Costs for Response are stabilizing, but our payroll is still incredibly high relative to our income. I’ve made some recommendations on potential investments. Also, the building Officium Mundi is located in is currently for lease; it looks as though the company is suspending operations due to pandemic losses. It’s expensive, but we should look into acquiring it. Additionally, Harvey will be up in ten minutes to talk to you about an independent review board for Response. And my daughter and her friends will be arriving after that to meet with you.”
“...Karen, are you my secretary?” James asked, legitimately confused.
“No, I…” The older woman paused. “Hm. I am going to assign one of the new interns to act as your secretary.” She said. “One of them is competent. It will be a good fit for him.”
“Thanks.” James deadpanned. And then, following that, “Actually though, thanks. I’ll read over this really quick. I appreciate the work you do.”
“Yes, well.” Karen gave the smallest hint of a smile, and then continued past his door.
“Everyone around here is better at their jobs than I am.” James muttered to himself. “And I’m starting to feel like this whole operation would be better if I was just a random delver and someone else took over being in charge of things.” He grumbled. “I could just stack dungeon powers, harvest chunks of precious metals, and not have to read budget reports. *Karen* could read the budget reports, after she wrote them, and then… make the decisions… hrmmmm. Okay, no. Well. She could give advice to whoever *does* make the decisions, and I could…”
“You could be that person.” Harvey’s deep voice caught James’ attention from his door. “Ya know. Because that’s what you do anyway.”
“Executive authority makes me itch.” James told him. “Nice beard.” He added with an appreciative head tilt.
Harvey’s beard had evolved to a perfectly maintained pulse of curly hair that covered his chin and mouth. It was almost a sharp geometric shape, except for the depth to it, and the twists of the salt-and-pepper curls. “Thanks.” The man said. “So. Speaking of making you itch.”
“Yeah! Karen mentioned this. You’ve got an outline for the thing we were talking about?”
“I’ll do you one better.” Harvey took a seat, but somehow didn’t appear to relax in any meaningful way. “We’re all set to go.”
“Really? No problem finding volunteers or… you know… convincing people that it was real?” James asked, a little incredulous.
Harvey just cocked an eyebrow at him. “I know you’re a little focused on certain things. But we’ve *been* getting notice. I think the only reasons we aren’t getting requests for interviews from cable news is that they can’t find us, and we have a policy of hanging up on non-emergency calls.” Harvey gave a harsh grin. “People are aware of us. And most importantly, there are people who are willing to work with us to make sure that we end up being what we promised.”
“What *are* we promising, anyway?” James asked. “I’ve… I mean, I’ve done Response runs. But I’m usually just focused on the job at hand. I know, in abstract, that we’re trying to replace the police. But what’s our actual, like… what are we billing ourselves as?”
“Civilian need focused emergency response.” Harvey said. “Which will now be operating with independent review and oversight.”
“Alright. Give me the details.” James said, leaning back and letting Harvey have the floor.
The plan was simple, and, in both their opinions, something they really needed to get set in stone early.
Response had an alarming amount of power. Not actual government authority, but they were operating in the capacity of people who had *personal* power, and used it without a policy beyond ‘we are helping’. Which wasn’t bad, on its own, but it wasn’t future proof. So, a protective measure was devised, at least as a transitional step.
They’d stolen the idea wholesale from a number of civil rights groups who were petitioning for something similar to be in place for the actual police. An independent review body, that had actual authority to remove knights and aspirants from Response positions, who would be tasked with handling any complaints about use of force or criminal activity.
It had been a negotiation to set up. Between the Order’s membership, they had a surprisingly large number of contacts in local civil rights organizations, but fewer in the other places they’d started operating, like parts of Colorado or Ohio. Still, after they had a short list of names, and reached out to those people, getting them all to agree had been… challenging.
Not because they were against the idea. A lot of people - a *shocking* number of people, James had thought at the time, having limited experience with this beyond the abstract - were almost instantly on board with replacing the police as a viable agency. The problems cropped up, as always, in the details, and the questions.
Who *were* they? What were their credentials? How did they expect to expand their operation? And then, once they’d gotten through the explanation that magic was real and they could teleport, more practical questions. Was this review board supposed to be a full time job? How were they planning to manage their membership? What counted as “criminal activity” when they were clearly setting their own code of conduct? Could they be penalized somehow for *failing* to uphold a law, if that came up? Also, how did the review board maintain itself? Who selected the members, and who verified they weren’t bad actors? Were they allowed to make decisions about Response’s operations, like using dungeontech that could fall into the wrong hands, or even just employing the camracondas?
The answers had taken months to hash out. But, finally, Harvey had something concrete to give to James, and introduce to the Order.
A nine person group, with policies for creating new units as Response did, fully let in on the secrets of the Order, but operating as outsiders. Finding people willing to accept that had been the tricky part, and Harvey willingly admitted that half of the initial batch of nominations were actually just training as Response members now. Their authority was rooted in the Order respecting their calls, but that was to be baked into the culture of Response from now on. Also, their authority was to be a little more literal, with long term members of the review board being offered Authorities to compliment the nature of their roles.
It was, Harvey freely admitted, a risk. But it was a risk that he and James agreed was needed, if they were going to build Response into a system that could be trusted, and not just a capricious band of well intentioned vigilantes.
The existence of systems was never the problem. Only ones with no oversight, and no compassion. And James fully intended to make sure Response had both.
“So, what now?” James asked when Harvey was done with the explanation and getting James to look over some paperwork, including briefs on all nine of their new watchers.
Harvey folded his hands calmly in his lap. “Now I get back to work, and so do you. Remember, we were already following all the rules we just negotiated other people to keep an eye on us for. We’re self-regulating. But that’s not good enough, if we’re going to be a public force for good. So just remember, if you pick up a shift, that you need to follow our use-of-force restrictions. Oh, also, if you find anything in the Office tonight that works as a conflict resolution tool, make a few hundred copies and hand em out to us.”
James nodded. “Alright. Hey, have I thanked you lately, for doing all the hard work while I screw around? Because thanks. You seriously are doing a great job.”
“Oh, I know.” Harvey nodded, mouth set in a line that was trying not to grin. “Also, isn’t your screwing around mostly-“
He was cut off as the floor rippled, and a slight shifting sound came from the hallway outside. Harvey kicked his chair back and was on his feet in a blink, while James vaulted his desk, a mostly decorative letter opener gripped in his hand like a knife as he planted his feet on the stilling floor by the door. Harvey slid out into the hallway, and James moved in the other direction, coming face to face with Karen, leading her assistant forward in a shooter’s crouch, revolver aimed down the hall. James nodded at her, and the four of them moved through the upstairs office together, looking for the disturbance.
“Outside looks fine.” Harvey said, staring down at LA through the windows. “No more fires than normal.”
“Conference area is empty.” Karen added. “James?”
James had stopped, and was staring at the elevator. Or, towards the elevator, anyway. The others moved up next to him, relaxing as he let his shoulders slump and set the letter opener calmly on a nearby desk. “Yeah, we’re fine.” He said.
“What was that?” Harvey followed his line of sight, trying to figure out why the elevator door was so important.
“Well.” James said. “How many doors are over there?”
“Three. Elevator, stairs, supply clos…” Karen stopped, and frowned. “Four. There are four doors. Why?”
“I’ll bet you a dollar it’s Research testing green orbs.” James offered. “Anyone?”
Harvey gave James a shake of his head. “Active Response members aren’t allowed to gamble.” He said. “That includes him, by the way.” He spoke to Karen’s assistant who looked like she was about to pull out her wallet. “Also, don’t take that bet.”
James rolled his eyes as he walked over and opened the new door, looking down the seemingly endless spiral of concrete steps and metal railing. “Alright. Well. I’ve gotta get to lunch and talk to some teenagers. I think I’ll take the stairs. I could use some exercise.” He shook his head. “This building is gonna be so fucking weird by the time we’re done with it.” He muttered. “Anyway, Harvey, thanks. Check in with me when it’s all set up, if you want me to meet the council. Or whatever we’re calling them.”
“It’s a committee.” Karen informed him bluntly. “Because not everything needs to be dramatic.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over all these stairs!” James’ voice echoed off the inside of the concrete stairwell as he let the door close behind him.
It took him eight flights before he regretted his choice. On the one hand, it was important to make sure the new stairs were normal and safe. But on the other hand, it was apparently as many stairs from here to the Lair as it was floors for the elevator to cross.
At least there were no other doors out. That would have been a massive security and existential headache.
__
“Alright.” James sat at one of the tables in the dining room. It was a busy afternoon, dozens of members of the various arms of the Order assembling to share conversation and lunch. The volume of chatter wrapped the room in a comfortable, only *slightly* too loud blanket, ebbing and flowing as occasionally someone would get too excited, and the whole room would quiet slightly in self-aware reaction.
Across from him, three people sat. Two human teenagers, and one camraconda for whom age wasn’t really a meaningful measure of maturity. Morgan, Elizebeth, and Color-Of-Dawn; the three non-engineers who had survived the first encounter the Order had with the dungeon in the memetically slippery mountain.
And, in a move that James hoped would become a tradition for the Order, they were the ones given first crack at naming the thing.
Chevoy had abdicated her naming privlages, saying she couldn’t be trusted with something like that. And Momo had argued that she hadn’t been first, just the rescue crew. So that left these three.
“Alright?” Morgan repeated, looking around nervously.
“Oh, right.” James shook himself a little. “Lost my train of thought. You three have decided on a name?”
“Sort of?” Elizebeth’s response seemed subdued and questioning. “We, um… we aren’t sure if there’s a style or something that we were supposed to follow?”
James chuckled. “Well, I admit, I’m pretty fond of the dramatic names that sound like fantasy locations.” He polished his nails on the sleeve of his shirt. “That said, I haven’t actually named any of these myself. And now that I think of it, it’s *always* been Sarah. So if you want a style, I’d ask her. But also, it’s your call!”
“Morgan wanted to call it ‘Fuck This’ and provide no context.” Color-Of-Dawn ratted out his friend. “We disagreed.”
“Uh… I mean…” James blinked, struggling to bridge his willingness to let them name the thing with his instant rejection of that suggestion. “We could… uh…”
Morgan held up his hands defensively. “No, no! It’s fine, and I was kidding!” He said. “Sorry, we were trying to come up with something that wasn’t dumb. It’s really hard!”
“It kind of is, yeah.” James agreed. “Names are weird. Hell, I feel weird every time I name something in the Office. Color-Of-Dawn here had to pick there own name, which must have been kind scary. I got lucky being given a name I don’t hate, you know? I never have to think about it.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m rambling. Probably because I’m hungry, and I want to get a burrito before everyone else eats everything Nate prepared. Did you end up deciding on something?”
“Is it okay if we call it Winter’s Climb?” Liz asked, blushing a little and not meeting James’ eye. “It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but… when it wasn’t trying to kill us, it was really pretty there. I don’t want to give it a rude name, just because it’s dangerous. And these two say they didn’t hate that name.”
James smiled reassuringly at all of them. “Ya’ll okay with that?” He asked.
“Yeah, it’s… I mean, it feels okay to me.” Morgan said.
Color-Of-Dawn nodded, a bobbing motion of its camera head. “I, too, find it reasonable. It is all the parts of winter I have seen, and nothing else.”
“That’s… wait, yeah, hang on, have you experienced a winter?” James suddenly started thinking back. “Yeah, you were here last year, right? Did we ever have snow?”
Color-Of-Dawn froze in its bobbing. “The snow is not a dungeon thing?” It asked, alarmed.
“Alright! I’m gonna go get lunch! Morgan, Liz, have fun with that! And thanks for the name. Make sure to let Sarah know what you’ve settled on today, okay? If you change your mind, it’s alright, but once it gets out there, it’ll kind be locked in unless something changes.”
“Like with the Road?” Elizebeth asked.
“Yeah, exactly.” James nodded. “I guess that’s something that’s been getting talked about?”
“Everyone thinks it’s scary. I mostly know about it from Sarah’s recap, but… it killed so many people.” Elizebeth looked down at her hands, and James noted with amusement that from either side of her, Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn almost unconsciously moved to comfort her. “And now people are wanting to keep exploring it. And I don’t get it? Momo’s down there now, and all I can think is that she might get hurt.”
James nodded, a pitying frown on his face. “The dungeons are all dangerous.” He said. “But I think, so far, the mountain, Winter’s Climb, is tied for the meanest. It *trapped* you. The others, even Route Horizon, they’re all just trying to live. And it’s important to make the distinction that *she* didn’t kill anyone. One angry old guy who stole the dungeon’s power did.”
“And doesn’t that just sound like everything else in the world.” Morgan grumbled.
“Hey! *I’m* supposed to be the one making that observation!” James have a mock outburst, putting his hand over his chest as he stood up to go grab his lunch. “Damn kids, stealing my world-weary attitude.” He switched back to his normal voice to finish talking to them. “But really, the dungeons aren’t safe, but they aren’t all evil. And I think your name’s a good one. Gives the benefit of the doubt.”
“And my origin point?” Color-Of-Dawn asked, giving James an angry look with its primary lens.
“I didn’t say I thought they were right.” James said, voice hard. “Just that they weren’t all mass murderers.” He sighed. “It’s hard. There’s no easy answer to this. And we’re sorta just trying to muddle through it all too, and leave a trail of improvement in our wake. But hey! You’re not dumb! Maybe you three can figure it out.” He gave them a nod and a smile. “Enjoy your lunch. I’ve gotta get my food and get going.”
After he’d walked off, the trio rotated around the table to occupy it for themselves. “Was he making fun of us?” Morgan asked, looking after where James had walked off to the kitchens.
“I don’t think he does that.” Elizebeth said.
“Why does he refer to us as a group?” Color-Of-Dawn asked, curious.
The two humans looked at the camraconda, then back at each other, confusion on their faces. “I… don’t know? Are we?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t think we’re a group? Not like them, anyway.” Elizebeth said. “But also, we should talk about it later. We need to have lunch before we’re late for the movie later!”
Color-Of-Dawn and Morgan both jolted to attention. “Right!” Morgan exclaimed. “That’s today! Oh, and Nik asked me if I wanted to go with him to the range tonight. Something about using bracelets? He said you two could come too if you wanted.”
“Movie first. Then we’ll see.” Color-Of-Dawn gave a looping nod of a gesture. “Also, food first. Still getting used to eating. Should do it more.”
From his spot just inside the kitchen, James smirked as he watched the three of them. “Oh yeah.” He noted. “That’s a future team right there.”
“What the hell are you doing lurking in my kitchen.” Nate’s voice from right behind him snapped him back to reality with a shock of adrenaline.
“Nothing! Uh, lunch!” James explained. “Burrito please? Also do you have a spare heart? Mine just exploded.”
Nate glared at him, before jerking a thumb toward a trio of bagged lunches on the counter. “Your stuff’s ready. Get out of here before a server hits you with the door.”
Not willing to dispute the power of his reflexes, especially after having been ambushed like that, James just nodded, grabbed the food, and tore a telepad page with his teeth. He was gone before he noticed Nate shaking his head and holding back a quiet smile.
_____
Arrush crouched in a cautious position on the roof of what he was told used to be a police station. What a police was, or why they were stationed here, were questions he had technically had answered, but still didn’t fully comprehend.
There were a lot of things he did not fully comprehend. Civilization was a big one. Food that tasted good was a small one. But they were all linked. There were so many connections, between so many things. He had never needed to track that many connections in his life.
Previously, there were two connections that mattered. There was the angry, vicious bond between the Beautiful One, and all the others she owned the lives of, and there was the gentle, impossibly fragile bond between himself, and Keeka.
They had names now. They had always had names, really. The soft sound of affection that Keeka called him had now become the thing that everyone referred to him as. And the noise of alert that he had used to get the smaller ones attention when danger was near had become his own name as well.
It was… so strange. So public. Out in the open. Others, who saw their bond openly, and did not try to use it to hurt them. Who took them in, told them they were valuable.
Arrush was waiting for the trap to close, but it still hadn’t.
He had been gifted so many things. Armor against the elements and small pests, in the form of decadently comfortable cloth. Nutrition that didn’t taste like waste and fire. And words. So many words. He had a word for his partner now. *Partner*. More words, too. Boyfriend, lover, companion. It still made acidic drops of emotion form in the corners of his many eyes to think it. Word that he had never known that he needed.
Arrus had been living in a desert his whole life, and had just been shown an ocean.
Even that thought, was a *metaphor*. He had time and context to make metaphors, sitting on this empty roof, staring out over the remains of what had once been a city. A population center fifty times the size of his home, *empty*. He couldn’t comprehend the threat that had done it, but he could understand that this place had undergone a great pain.
Pain he understood.
The human who had, ultimately, brought him to this vantage point, had come by earlier today. The empty paper bag and the remnant crumbs of a burrito sitting nearby paid testament to that visit.
They had spoken, for some time. Arrush had been nervous, in his own way, at first. Not nervous as the human - as *James* - seemed to think, but nervously waiting for the fighting to start. For one or the other to bitterly subdue their foe and force them to comply. But that raw fear had never come to pass.
Instead, James had just… wanted to talk. He struggled not with tooth and claw, but with tone and rhetoric. And he was not here to force an oath, but to ask questions. To make sure Arrush and Keeka were *doing okay*.
The ratroach choked a wet laugh, remembering it. He did not know if he would ever be okay.
James had asked what they wanted. And he had, patiently, waited for Arrush to think, and then explain.
His own thoughts had surprised him, once he was guided to think them. What did he want? He wanted to never be afraid again. He wanted… he wanted more. More of this. More food, and sun, and air. More of the strange people who now surrounded him in this building. The people who smiled at him and his partner, who had never once tried to hurt him. He didn’t care, anymore, if it was a long trap. He would walk into it willingly if it was. He couldn’t imagine another choice.
Arrush wanted to be strong enough to keep this.
James had nodded at him. He understood. Arrush could see it, in the eyes. The eyes that were so different than what he knew, but just as expressive. The human had never felt pain like him, never known a life like his, but he understood regardless.
Then he asked something different. If Arrush was strong enough, would he take this comfort from others, to keep it for himself?
It was a good question. He had taken a long time to think of the answer. Long enough that James had found a book to read while he patiently waited for Arrush to think.
No. He decided. No. Because… because… if he did that, there would be every chance that he would be taking from someone like Keeka. Like his partner. Now that he was out here, now that he knew there were others like him, who *felt things*, how could he ever hurt them, knowing any of them could be like the exact person he loved?
James had folded the book shut and gently set it on the edge of the roof, before asking one last question. “In a few days, I’m going somewhere like your origin point.” He’d said. “Less dark, more cold. It’ll be dangerous, and risky, but it might be something that gets me more strength. To protect what I think is important.” James had met Arrush’s eyes, and asked then, “Would you like to come with us?”
And Arrush hadn’t known then. But it had been hours of thinking now. James had left, telling him he had time to decide, and there would be more opportunities. But it had been long enough that his partner had woken up and found him on the roof. Long enough that the other members of the cleanup crew here had checked in on them, brought them dinner and a blanket. Long enough that the stars had come out.
The stars. So many tiny dots of light, keeping a clean and refreshing watch on the world.
The world was too big, Arrush decided, for him to ever know his place in it. But next to him, Keeka pressed against his side under the blanket, a trio of hands softly running freshly trimmed claws through his fur and over his chitin. And Arrush realized that he didn’t need to know his place in the world. Just his place here.
“I am going to go.” He rasped out, voice still aching from overuse today, not yet modified to what the humans promised would be a state that didn’t hurt anymore.
Keeka burrowed into his side under the blanket, clutching tightly to his partner.
“Not forever.” Arrush reassured him. “Want to… keep you safe.”
His partner made a hissing click. Their own secret language, a voice they would never really give up. They didn’t have a word for ”why”. But they did have a signal for “you won’t leave me behind.” Not a question, but a statement.
If Arrush was going, Keeka was too.
“Stay.” The much larger ratroach half-whispered. “Be safe. Back before you miss me.”
“Miss you already.” The thin, wispy voice came from under their blanket.
Arrush cracked his muzzle in a grin, trying to not feel bad as the sizzling blue liquid that was one of the fluids his body produced dripped to the blanket and left hissing black marks on it. It didn’t take many words for them to know each other’s hearts. But here, he felt like he could speak forever and never fully explain *why*. Why he felt he had to go. Why he owed them, why he wanted to see the horizon. So many whys, all mixed up in one burning feeling that James’ question had ignited in his chest.
No one should ever be as afraid as he had been.
And so, if this world rejected that, he would be strong enough that he could reject it in turn.
Two of his arms wrapped his partner close to him, under one blanket of cotton and one of stars. No one would ever be as afraid as him again.
_____
“Your tests came back negative.” Deb informed James as he was busy adding a ‘delvers wanted’ notice to the community board in the front lobby. “You’re clear to go. Though, again, you’ll need to teleport, since Australia still has some strict quarantine rules in place. Which you will be flagrantly breaking.”
“To be fair, it’s not that flagrant if I’m getting multiple tests before teleporting to a remote part of the wilderness and only sticking around long enough to get to a dungeon.”
“The dungeon is in Australia.” Deb informed him, crossing her arms. “I know there’s no *laws* about it, but come on. Dungeons are where they are.”
“Ah, good old tautologies.” James sighed. “Well, thanks. Hey, you wanna come?”
“Can’t. I’m filling in for someone at the hospital.” Deb gave a sigh of her own. “I’m not gonna say that the doctor is taking advantage of us owing him favors, but he certainly is persuasive when he wants to be.”
James nodded. “I getchya. Well, anyone you know who might want to go?”
“Please don’t take Frequency. At least not for the first one.” Deb gave James a pleading look. “I know she wants to go, but it’s a *mountain*, and her robot arms aren’t strong enough yet to make that safe. Take, I dunno, take Nate or something.”
“I was thinking that! But Sarah shot down my idea. Something about Nate being busy leading a cadre of spies, since JP is out of town.”
“This place is weird.” Deb sighed. “Oh, quick thing. I know you’re going to the Office tonight, do you mind doing a test copy run of a bunch of yellows? If there’s even one minor medical skill, it could help a lot more than I think you know.”
“Ehhhhhh.” James grimaced. “I’m loathe to give up a run of cancer orbs, honestly. We’re already only using eight of our nine duplication runs on that. It feels like it’ll never be enough.”
“I had Alex run the numbers. Medical skill in the right place could save more lives. Not in the same way, but it’s important. And it doesn’t need to be all the time, just test a bunch of the small ones? Please?” Deb gave James a look that told him this was important to her.
He sighed. “Yeah, I suppose that’s fair. Especially since a lot of people aren’t getting the chance to delve these days, huh? You’re pretty much just doing med student stuff, right?”
“Among other things.” Deb confirmed. “It’s gotten out of control.”
“What has?”
“Yes.”
James snorted a laugh. “Alright.” He said. “I’ve got a date to go get coffee with my best friend. I don’t know when we’ll talk next, but I’ll post a list of gains to the server. A lot of people are interested in what we find tonight, and I’ll include the copied yellows. Sound good?”
“Thanks James.” Deb smiled at him, dimples in her cheeks showing. “Good luck.”
“You too.” He said. “Good luck to all of us, constantly, really!”
_____
James’ legs ached.
Currently, he was sitting against the wall of the upper floor of the cubicle tower right near the door to Officium Mundi. A strange feeling of the wall behind him being too thin pervaded his body; a reminder that if he pressed back too hard, he would tumble through two hundred feet of open air and probably land on something hard. But oddly, it didn’t worry him. He felt perfectly in control of himself. It was just information, he wouldn’t fall unless he wanted to.
Well, perfectly in control of all parts except his legs. Legs that had taken him on a five mile circuit of several of the known points of interest within the twisting hallways of the Office, legs that had gotten him through a chase with a maul cart, legs that had climbed up three of these cubical towers today, and back down two of them.
In short, James was tired, and he was explaining all of this to an Anesh who was very patiently pretending to listen while carefully pouring coffee grounds onto the floor and conference table.
“James, I love you, but this *sounds* exhausting, and I still have two more of these to do today.”
James looked around the upper floor. “Yeah, hang on, didn’t you have an assistant or something? Where’s Momo?”
“Momo’s been notably absent from a lot of stuff for a week or two. And my assistants have all either ended up going on more interesting delves, or being a camraconda who found the experience ‘engaging but not worth coming back here’.” Anesh looked up and frowned, pivoting his head to stare at James with intense eyes. “James am I boring?” He asked. “I worry that I’m boring”
With a quick check around the room to make sure he wasn’t being pranked somehow, James tentatively answered. “You are setting up a magical ritual that will spawn roughly a hundred and twenty magical bath beads that cure cancer.”
“Anyone could do that and still be boring about it.” Anesh countered.
“I’m not having this argument with you.”
“Fiiiine.” Anesh relented with a dramatic sigh. “Well, how was your dungeon experience today? Did you and I find anything cool?”
James couldn’t help but give a strange burst of laugher. “I don’t get why you ask that. You will literally have all the memories in a few hours.”
Anesh smiled calmly. “Well, when I do, I’ll have the memories of discovering things with you for the first time, and also hearing them from you for the first time. It’s more collective memories of you.”
“That’s… aw. Okay, that was more emotionally open than I was expecting. I thought there was gonna be a joke!” James pressed his hands together over his chest, giving Anesh a wide eyed gaze.
“Nope! Only relentless love and all that!” Anesh waved a hand idly in James direction without looking, drawing a much louder burst of laughter from his boyfriend at the sudden juxtaposition of tone. “Anyway. Where is other me, actually? *I* could be a good assistant.”
“I think you already know that he’s avoiding doing this because he won the coin flip.” James grinned. “Also he’s out with Alanna doing more hunting for oranges.”
“Bah.” Anesh already knew, because he knew himself, but it still wasn’t going to stop him from grumbling. “Well, find anything good while you were out?”
They sort of had. Aside from the box of small yellows that were on the table to be copied and tested next at Deb’s request, they’d come back with what had become a pretty standard haul for a delve.
A few thousand dollars, a sealed briefcase for future investigation, a USB stick that appeared to store network connection, a stack of various random candy (partially because there was an ongoing theory that eating dungeon candy did in fact expand how many blues you could have absorbed, partially because one of them was called Lemon Alligators and there was no way in hell either James or Alanna was going to pass on that), a few purple orbs that were set aside for sharing with Order members that weren’t active delvers and one green earmarked for a local library, and just a whole host of random magic items that were probably going to get rendered down into blues.
“We’ve got, like, three pairs of headphones.” James said. “And they’ve all got that itch to them, you know? That feeling that they’re dungeontech. Actually, *you* spotted one of them, so that’s cool. No idea what any of them do yet though.”
“It’s like that way too often. We don’t give Research enough credit for stumbling into answers sometimes.” Anesh nodded. “Like, remember the headphones that read books to you, if ‘plugged into’ a book?”
“I think my favorite part of that was learning that Reed doesn’t have an internal voice when he reads, and then learning that a *lot* of people don’t, which is why audiobooks are so popular.” James got sidetracked briefly talking about using the headphones for rapid production of audiobooks, before Anesh got him back on track by verbally nudging him toward anything else they’d found. “Ah. Well, the main thing is, I don’t know.” James admitted. “So many times, we find something that seems absurd, but it doesn’t work the way we want. And then we’ll find something that seems kind of whatever, but it turns out it’s got more uses and bigger uses than I ever thought about.” He shrugged. “So, I dunno. I dunno if the backpack that randomizes it interior is useful. I don’t know if the dress shirt that changes colors is useful. It’s all so small and pointless most of the time.” He thumped his head against the wall behind him, eliciting a hollow thud. “That’s why I like the orbs. They might be dumb, but I don’t have to carry them around or worry about them.”
“Did you get any good skills, at least?” Anesh asked sympathetically.
“I… didn’t get any skills. I brought them all here, to copy.” James said, like it was obvious.
Anesh frowned at him, trying to raise a single eyebrow in consternation. “James. You’re allowed to benefit from the dungeon too, you know. You don’t have to give away everything.”
“I can already teleport and walk off being hit by a car!” James protested. “I can-“
“You can *not* walk off being hit by a car, and you’re going to take the yellow copies and be the one to test them.” Anesh crossed his arms and stared at James evenly until his boyfriend, sputtering and protesting, eventually ran out of excuses and relented. “Good.” Anesh said, slapping the projector, consuming two pounds of coffee grounds in a flash of light, and spawning a box of exacting dimensions full of purple orbs. “Give me ten minutes to set this up again, and then you can eat a bunch of skills.”
“I can help.” James said, shoving himself to his knees with a groan. “Just… let me get my circulation working again.”
“I thought you could endure anything.” Anesh smirked.
“I haven’t learned enough pangolin facts to upgrade my Endurance and also I lied about the car thing. Shut up.” James rebutted, staggering upright and stretching his arms with boney pops. “Alright. Give me one of those scoops, and turn the diagram board so I can see.”
Fifteen minutes later, another case popped into being. James, being James, still didn’t want to take every single orb that was copied, leaving a good chunk of them for others to test. But he took enough to make Anesh stop mock scowling at him at least.
[+1 Skill Rank : History - Carpentry]
[+1 Skill Rank : Gambling - Baccarat]
[+1 Skill Rank : Manufacture - Pipe - Ceramic]
[+1 Skill Rank : Construction - Insulation]
[+1 Skill Rank : Baking - Muffin - Cranberry]
[+1 Skill Rank : Pike]
[+1 Skill Rank : Ritual - Pregame - Baseball]
[+1 Skill Rank : Cleaning - Mopping]
[+1 Skill Rank : Art - Spraypaint]
[+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Climbing]
[+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Maintenance Report - Water District - New Zealand]
[+1 Skill Rank : Repair - Furniture - Bed Frame]
[+1 Skill Rank : Animals - Shark]
[+1 Skill Rank : Biology - Human - Common Diagnosis]
[+1 Skill Rank : Demographics - Europe - Southern]
[+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Shoes]
[+1 Skill Rank : Music - Theremin - Theory]
[+1 Skill Rank : Government - Policy - Hong Kong]
[+1 Skill Rank : Cooking - Chicken]
[+1 Skill Rank : Break Dancing]
Knowledge flooded James’ mind. A hundred chunks separated into a thousand facts, points of data like lights in the night. In an instant, he knew more than he had yesterday, more than he’d ever learn on his own in a decade. Some things struck him as he processed it: there was a skill Deb would want in human biology, there was also a skill he wanted more of in climbing before they tackled the mountain, and there were a couple of skills that would make him even more eager to get into a kitchen.
Before he could start up a conversation with Anesh going over the finer points of different polearm styles, and why he needed to tap the budget to commission a very specific one for personal use, though, James found himself sitting in a classroom surrounded by an angry void.
“You must choose!” The bladed ball of hate clad in a tweed jacket that was Teacher stood at the front of the class. “Plagiarist! Decide and-!”
James cut it off. “Endurance again.” He said. Zero interest in the other options.
Then he was back where he had been, legs suddenly feeling… well, not ‘better’, really. But despite the aches and pains, he knew he could run another five miles if he needed to. He croaked out a word, calling up his syllabus from the Akashic Sewer.
[Lesson Continues : Basketball II 288 / 1200, Accuracy I, Agility I
Lesson Continues : Biology II 122 / 1800, Endurance II]
“Alright.” James said to Anesh. “So. The Lessons *do* scale up way more if you have two of them, the second one goes up more, and the whole jump between here and the classroom place is jarring and awful, even if I don’t remember most of I t.” He said. “Also, I know a lot about sharks now.”
“Just sharks?” Anesh asked with a worried smile.
“Sharks kill fewer humans every year than vending machines.” James replied.
“Is… was that part of a skill rank?”
James shrugged. “Nah. I just knew that one already. Also, hey, we should get moving before the night’s over. You should take some of these too, by the way! Enjoy a skill rank before we share the others with the team.”
Anesh hummed, and considered the box of assorted copied orbs that James had already plucked several out of like a selection of chocolates. Unlike his boyfriend, he stared carefully, before eventually winding his hand through the container to pick a single orb that just felt *right* to him. “Alright,” He said, “but just the one, and then we can get going.”
[+.4 Skill Ranks : Mathematics - Geometry]
Anesh smirked at his good choice, or good fortune, and relayed the earned skill to James.
“How are you so good at picking those?” James asked, confused. “This is, like, the eighth math orb you’ve gotten!”
“The dungeon likes me.” Anesh said simply. “Now let’s got share these, and give Deb the good news about her own luck.”
Comments
I had to comment on this chapter, even though it's a few months old. In the author's note, you mention the big reason I had to drop this story for a few months: it became a slog through the dialogue. Each conversation, each character-building moment, would, on its own, be a refreshing taste of an introspective and thoughtful world. All together, with relatively little plot, action, and worldbuilding to provide the variety a healthy reader needs, it feels like ice cream composing the entirety of most of the meals in the day (just as most xianxia stories feel like all popcorn, or a lot of litrpgs feel like all chips - you get my point).
Dracobear
also: “It kind of is, yeah.” James agreed. “Names are weird. Hell, I feel weird every time I name something in the Office. Color-Of-Dawn here had to pick ###there### own name, which must have been kind scary.
Dracobear
Awesome!
