The Flesh is (Not) Weak [021-022]

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[021] [Ants]

“That’s… a lot of gold.” Damon looked at the stacks of coins placed in neat rows within a metal box the size of his fist. “I’m pretty sure this is too much gold.”

He glanced at Idina. The young woman was looking at the box with very wide eyes. Within the room they’d rented, there was only Han left to try and contextualize  exactly how much money had been thrown his way, and the blond man had his eyes wide like plates just as much.

“Definitely too much.” Damon frowned. “You guys sent me to scare the knight-lady, didn’t you?”

“She is a knight, but not by role. She’s a user that was anointed into the job of a knight. It is similar but different, since users cannot take on any roles.” Han stroked his beard, chuckling. “But it is true that we’d thought it a… minor balancing of scales to send you to meet her.”

That got a frown. “What happened?”

“She was less than helpful when we were trying to get information about the order of knights.” With a gruff shake of his head, he crossed his arms.

“Intentionally?”

“She wanted to be a bother in much the same way many petty people with important positions tend to be.” A wry smile followed. “But I must admit to amusement to hearing her hymn’s panic upon meeting you.”

Damon laughed, shaking his head. “Next time, either give a heads up or be ready for things to blow up in your face.”

“I will do you one better.” Han nodded. “I will invite you to a drink in celebration of our good fortune.”

With a moment of hesitation, he glanced at the gold coins. “Isn’t this, erm…”

“It is a very generous reward for killing a veritable horde of monsters. But not to a degree that one might believe it to be excessive.” Han patted Damon’s back. “As far as I’m concerned, Chosen by the Gods or not, you’ve shown to be a true user through and through.” He laughed. “Such a thing requires a celebration, even a modest one. Let us wait for Sybil’s return before we toast for this windfall that fell on your lap.”

The hesitation remained as he glanced at Idina and then down at his hands. There was that gnawing sensation of wrongness. The last time he’d drank he’d drank too much, and… well, he’d woken up in a cave God knows where or how. But could he really just keep himself knotted into a ball like this indefinitely?

“Fine.” A deep sigh and a nod. “Why not?”

***

Damon took a sniff of the mug of what he’d been told was beer. It had a smell to it that felt potent in a way that didn’t quite match what he thought it ought to be. On either side of him, Han and Sybil drank from their respective much smaller mugs. Idina had turned down participating and instead had remained in the room.

There was a tension in the air neither of the two wanted to acknowledge. They eyed Damon every handful of seconds while nursing their own drinks. Sybil, in particular, had a glint to her gaze that had the stench of mischief.

“This is the strongest stuff they have, isn’t it?” Damon finally concluded, taking a single gulp of the amber liquid.

It was like someone had put a shot of vodka into a beer. The taste certainly wasn’t bad. It had a slight sweetness to it he hadn’t expected. There was something wrong, but right about the mix that didn’t quite seem to disagree with him. Damon could see himself drinking something like this from time to time.

Both of the users waited for a heartbeat, looking intently.

“Damn.”

Han slapped a silver coin on the table, shoving it over to Sybil. She chuckled, pulling the coin into her pockets.

“A bet?”

“I told him you wouldn’t choke on the nectar-booze.” Sybil spoke, voice full of mirth. “He thought you would. Uneven ears here did when he first tried it.”

“It had caught me by surprise. And my ears are perfectly even.” Han shot a mock glare.

Damon rolled his eyes. “This is strong stuff, definitely gives beer a run for its money, but I’ve had stronger. Just not at this volume.”

That got the other users sharing a glance, and then at him. “So you are not just more resistant to poisons in general, but the ones in beverage form as well.”

“I bet he will still be able to stand after the mug.” Han quickly slapped the coin on the table, his eyes glinting as he focused on the human. “I will split it in half with you, of course.”

“That’s a fool’s bet.” Sybil rolled her eyes. “The impressive part would be if he could stand after the second.”

“Let’s not go off betting how much booze I can take.” Damon raised the mug and took a second gulp. “We have to hit the road tomorrow. Let’s not go overboard.”

***

Floating in space, suspended in the void and entirely too sure that things weren’t going well, the first obstacle in Emilie’s way had been the blast-doors to the cockpit. They’d been meant to protect the pilot in the worst-case scenario, and it had taken her a whole day-cycle to pry it open to a point she could safely squeeze through.

The only source of light within the spaceship were the headlights on her EVA suit. Darkness in every direction, not even the safety-lights were on, which was foreboding to say the least.

Still, her first order of business was to check the atmosphere as she moved weightlessly across the corridors. She had to ensure there were no leaks, that the pressure remained constant, and that there wasn’t anything like toxic fumes floating around. After she was certain she could remove her helmet, Emilie rushed off to the fridge to eat and hydrate. Once certain that the biological needs were met well enough, she set out to confirm everything else.

She wanted to head out and check on the generators right away, to get them back online, but every scrap of training she’d received forbade her from doing that.

“Wouldn’t want to accidentally burn a power conduit or something.” She mumbled under her breath, sealing the EVA suit and rummaging through her locker for the diagnostic tools. The detonation had clearly rattled things, but fortunately, nothing was broken.

She grabbed a hold of the “Boom-cube”, a miniature hand-held reactor, and maneuvered her way back into the cockpit, ignoring the floating pieces of metal she’d left there after having managed to force the doors open.

Emilie began making popping sounds with her lips as she removed the protective panels connecting to the spare intelligence core. Plugging in the boom-cube, she paid close attention as the metal box began humming softly. “At least something works as it should… for once.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that the boom-cube was one of the few ‘critical’ pieces of a ship’s diagnostic toolbox that she’d purchased herself rather than trust the cheapest-alternative the bosses had at hand. Keeping with the popping sound, she plugged in an interaction screen to the intelligence core once the booting sequence had been confirmed. The green light from the screen bathed the mostly dark room.

“Now let’s see the damage…”

The screen lit-up, and Emilie blinked repeatedly, the popping sound coming to a halt.

“Well, there’s my problem. Half of the ship’s missing.”

Or maybe not.

For all she could tell right now, the ship’s diagnostic systems could have been damaged, so the intelligence-core wasn’t catching any signals from the rest of the chunk of junk that was now moving through space in who knew what direction.

A quick check of acceleration and space-deformation confirmed that at the very least, she wasn’t within any large object’s gravity well just yet. The outside censors were an entirely different sub-system, however. “And better handle the horrors one at a time.”

Besides, if she was hurtling towards an asteroid or something else that might kill her, what could she do while the ship was entirely offline? So the priority remained the same: figure out how to get control on the ship. Particularly the water recycling system. Emilie had enough water for roughly a week and enough food for a month. The EVA could cover her air-needs for at least thrice that. Going into hibernation might help prolong it further, but if nothing was operational, her days were counted anyway.

So unless she was currently on a crash-course that would get her to smack onto something within the next week, then water had priority.

Emilie had been about to almost turn off the diagnostics tool when she noticed a flicker.

It had been only a split second, something that could have been little more than a glitch. But for a moment, another part of the ship had disappeared from the readings layout. Frowning, she reached for the playback, and it confirmed it hadn’t been a glitch in the software or the ship.

“It’s not supposed to do that.” She muttered, popping her lips. A hunch pushed her to recheck the diagnostic recordings all the way back since the emergency disengagement of the warp bubble.

It was a play-by-play of pop-up alarms and self-repair systems. The main generator had taken a huge hit, but it had still been working. The ship had cut all thrust and begun handling the atmosphere leaks. But as it did this, something else had started to happen, tiny glitches and bugs, the diagnostic system temporarily losing connection to parts of the ship before they were repaired, and then lost again.

And then lost permanently.

Within an hour of the explosion, the main generator went offline for no apparent reason.

As if the conduits had been severed… “But that doesn’t make…”

Emilie lunged for the intelligence core and yanked the connection to the boom-cube.

It whirled in complaint. But she was far more concerned with the intelligence box, watching it attentively as she feared the worst. A part of her hoped she’d been wrong, that her fears weren’t being realized.

And yet, under the light of her EVA suit illumination, she saw it, as the intelligence core, that once indistinct gray cube, began to slowly dissolve. It took only seconds, pieces of the computer turning to dust, floating in the lack of gravity before the process slowed and stopped half-way through.

“Nanomachines.”

Her chitin itched at the thought.

The ship was invaded by nanomachines.

This was the worst. A class four technology destroyer.

Emilie took a deep shuddering breath, moving slowly, oh so slowly, as she covered the intelligence core with the panel. She wanted to avoid having the cloud of shredded computer and nanomachines spread throughout her cabin, but at this point, it seemed like they were all over the ship.

Tiny robots roughly larger than a cell, programmed and built to chase electrical currents and use that very same charge to keep themselves powered. And while powered, they’d attempt to either make more of themselves or to break down everything within reach down to particle-sized chunks.

Until they ran out of charge.

If they were within the cables of the ship, then anything that made the current run through them would trigger the machines, they would continue breaking down every powered system on the ship.

Emilie’s breathing quickened to a near-panicked wheeze.

She shuddered, chitin itching under her suit. She was dead, she couldn’t do anything, the bots had invaded the ship. The moment something went online, the current would power them back up, draw them in, and they would destroy everything. The ship would be reduced to nothing more than one giant piece of debris.

Were there any active defenses within the system, the helpless ship would’ve been destroyed by now. But it didn’t matter.

“I’m dead.”

Whispering the words, the young Zuun drew her knees close to her abdomen and hugged them tightly, floating in the absolute lack of gravity.

The sound of her breathing echoed within the shadows and metallic corridors of the ship.

[022] [Road to the Sky]

Damon woke up in an unknown bed that most definitely was not the one he’d rented. His breath stank of alcohol, and his mind was fuzzy. Details were hard to draw out as he slowly stirred. The soft warm flesh within his grasp wriggled and, slowly but surely, Damon began to remember the previous night. He’d had exactly one drink, and it had still hit him harder than he’d expected it to. Han and Sybil had enjoyed their own beverages and downed them without much pause, the duo becoming more boisterous by the round.

By the time Damon had finished his drink, Sybil had removed her hood and was loudly narrating her battle with the monster lord to any who’d stopped to listen. Meanwhile, Han had run commentary in the background, calling out her bullshit whenever she exaggerated a particular part of the fight.

Damon had felt satisfied to stay away from the spotlight and nurse his drink one gulp at a time. His eyes had roamed across the crowd and fallen upon a splotch of color. A woman, short as all the others, but different. She’d not been a sasin. Instead, her skin had been a near fluorescent blue, streaked with lines of yellow and orange in a way that reminded him of the glowing forests on the blue mountains.

The dash of color had brought his attention, but the more he looked, the more he found the one wearing such colors to be alluring in her own right. She wore little more than a simple tunic, one that only reached down to her knees, exposing strong shapely legs and a modest cleavage. Her arms were equally muscular and exposed, her hands webbed and sporting some wicked looking black claws.

“Well, aren’t you quite brave-?”

She’d tried to goad him, or perhaps admonish him, and her words had ended when she’d turned to look his way. Eyes with neon-yellow sclera and black irises widened in a look that was either shock or fear. Probably both. Damon had looked at the dark orange fins on either side of her head and smiled.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing this far from the sea?”

He might have slurred a little. The alcohol had made him feel hot and daring. Part of him expected to get told off. He hadn’t quite expected the conversation to lead to the room she was staying in.

Laying on the bed next to that very same naked woman whose name he couldn’t quite remember, Damon felt like somewhere in the process, certain steps had been skipped. Maybe she’d been just as eager to move things along as he’d been? Whatever the case, he groaned and shifted, moving to stand up and rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“… was fun…”

She’d mumbled, groaning and laying on her bed.

In the relative darkness of the room, Damon saw the yellow stripes adorning her arms had pulsed with light, and half-remembered something about wanting to make her glow like a star… or something. Certainly he’d pushed things into the very late hours. He shrugged, putting on his clothes and checking there wasn’t anything missing.

“So, uh, yeah, see you around, maybe.”

All he got in response was an affirmative, tired sound, and he hurried on outside.

***

“So, ready to hit the road?”

“That’s another of your ways of speech, isn’t it?”

“Figure of speech.” Damon sighed, stretching and limbering up as Idina and Sybil checked the cart one last time.

“Say, where’s Han?”

“He went to confirm the latest updates of monster attacks and criminal activity.” Sybil shrugged, looking entirely exhausted. “Always a good idea to check before heading out.”

“I guess you guys can wait, then.”

“Where are you going?” Sybil asked, frowning from under her hood. Damon could spot the twitch of her ears.

“Training.” He shrugged simply. “You guys can catch up once Han comes back. I shouldn’t be too far ahead.”

The glare leveled his way was ignored, and he just started walking. The guards at the gates didn’t even try to stop him, just jolting into a frozen state and watching him go. Damon would keep the quick march up until he was out of the town’s line of sight. Only then did he pull out the sling and start practicing.

His thoughts very quickly moved back towards Idina’s words regarding the sling.

She’d been unable to use it, rage overcoming her until she’d destroyed the piece of cord.

And as Damon spun the cord and let loose another stone, something came to mind. The edicts.

“System, is Idina unable to attack someone?”

[…]

Query Answer:

Idina EM Tag is corrupted, unable to determine identification and potential compliance status.

[…]

Damon’s eyes bulged.

“What is compliance status?”

[…]

Query Answer:

Compliance status measures the entity’s proximity to the desired behavior for its given role.

[…]

That sent a chill down Damon’s spine, the spinning sling slowing to a complete halt. His throat felt dry as he swallowed loudly.

“Are… what is the desired behavior for someone with a gatherer role?”

[…]

Error

Query answer not found.

[…]

“Can an administrator alter the compliance parameters?”

[…]

Query Answer:

Network Array: Offline

Thalaring port required for administrator tools.

[…]

A quick look around, trying to confirm if he could spot anyone or anything else right now. He was alone, well and truly alone on the road.

“Is violence part of an entity’s compliance status?”

[…]

Error

Query answer not found

[…]

“Fuck.” More holes on the information available. Like someone had tried printing a dictionary on Swiss cheese. Damon grimaced. “What about… weaponry? Guns? Is that part of the compliance?”

[…]

Query Answer:

Most forms of projectile based weaponry are highly restricted.

All restricted weaponry is to be destroyed on sight.

[…]

Idina and her claim she’d cut-up the sling, the described anger she’d felt, as well as Sybil.

“Is an entity destroying a restricted weapon a desired behavior?”

[…]

Query Answer:

Yes.

[…]

“Fuck.”

***

Damon had been pacing back and forth across the cobblestone road while feeling an anxious dread lingering over his head. He’d thrown a hundred more questions at the system, with not much success finding anything else of use.

The question was eating at him, however. This whole thing meant… what? That Idina and Sybil and Han were being controlled?

Was he?

And… had the axion anything to do with this? His fingers brushed against the piece of metal on the back of his head and he shuddered. Idina didn’t have an axion, she wasn’t a user. But the system had pointed towards ‘desired behavior’ in terms of weapons. Both Idina and Sybil had felt angry over a sling.

A sling.

A projectile based weaponry.

But not him.

Was he immune? Did he have to be born with it? Had… something messed with their heads? What other behaviors were “desired”? Why hadn’t they noticed any aside from the edicts that, apparently, filled them with terror? Was he under the control of these things as well? What if he made an actual firearm? Was it more restricted? Would he get attacked? Were there other rules that stirred other emotions?

The back of his head itched. He held his hand tightly to keep from scratching at the piece of metal.

He caught sight of the cart, Han, Sybil, and Idina. They’d been watching him as their cart was being pulled ever closer.

“You alright, sir?” Idina’s question felt light-hearted, but her eyes spoke of concern.

“Yeah, yeah, just… um, thinking stuff.” Damon chuckled nervously.

They didn’t seem sure that his words were earnest, but they nodded along. Damon didn’t really need to pay too close attention to know that the three of them had shrugged almost at the same time. The hymn, the point that lets them communicate wordlessly with everyone around them.

Was that part of a desirable behavior?

No, he had to solve this.

“Actually.” He pulled out the sling, showing it to the three of them. Sybil and Idina had complicated expressions, while Han frowned in confusion. “I’d like to test something.”

“What… is it?”

“Pay very close attention to your emotions.” Damon said. “I have a weapon in mind. It’s a weapon that grabs rocks, ones the size of my finger, and shoots them at incredible speed. Such speeds that it’s impossible to dodge.”

Brows furrowed immediately. Sybil’s most of all.

“Damon, if this is about the sling, I’d rather we not…”

“It made you instantly angry, right?”

Again, the reaction was uniform, a jolt of surprise, Idina being the only one that nodded.

“I talked about it a bit before, been chewing on it, but… I think this is an edict. A different kind.”

Sybil’s back straightened abruptly, eyes wide, vulpine ears perking entirely. “Are you… is this… as an administrator?”

“It’s what I’ve found out.” He said. “The, erm, the system-.”

“The Goddess of knowledge.”

Damon made a face, keeping quiet and sighing. “It said that the anger towards the sling was normal. That people are supposed to be made angry about it.”

“Oh.”

Sybil sighed, actually smiling, her shoulders slumping as she nodded. “That would be a relief.”

“Wait what?”

“Is there anything against flaming swords?” Han asked, sounding slightly amused but hopeful.

“No, I-. It talked about certain kinds of projectiles.” Damon slowly glanced at them. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“If the Gods have decreed certain weapons are forbidden, then… What is there to argue?” Sybil inquired. “Shouldn’t you avoid using the sling if this is the case?”

Idina almost jumped at that. “Of course not! He is chosen for a special task. If the Gods didn’t give him an edict to follow others have, it is for a reason.”

Damon could only stare, feeling at a total loss for words as Sybil and Idina quickly devolved into arguing over some nuanced interpretation of what was or wasn’t allowed or implied. His eyes shifted from them to Han. The man with the golden beard met his gaze and just shrugged.

“Is it something you can change?”

“I… don’t think so. Maybe?”

“Then you are worrying about the sleeping dragon in the mountains.” There was a slight shake of his head. “Focus on the monsters that are on their way to the gates.”

“Are you trying to tell me to not sweat it over what I can’t do anything about?”

“Yes.”

Damon’s shoulders slumped. He nodded. “That’s fair, I guess.” He shook his head. “What about the sling?”

“If you think it will be of use?”

“Honestly? I feel like this whole business has made me want to train more with it, not less.”

Han laughed, even as Sybil looked on, horrified.

***

The descent down the mountain continued, the path meandered through various villages and smaller trade-hubs. Damon found himself being the main fighter against the monster attacks that assaulted them along the way. Nothing like the teether horde, but annoying nonetheless. Han and Sybil seemed to thoroughly enjoy just sitting back and giving him pointers as he fought.

Sometimes they’d stop to spend the night in a village, most times they didn’t. The lack of crowds made Damon stand out far more than anyone liked them to.

The mountains, once blue, shifted and changed the further south and east they went. Their coloration took a more brownish tint, the sort Damon was used to. The glowing forests also died out and were replaced by greener ones that more closely resembled palm trees, a rather odd thing considering there were no beaches, sands, and barely any rivers or lakes.

That was until they reached “Rainbow Lake.”

It was a vast reflective surface, sitting between an arrangement of multicolored mountains. To the east were ochre red peaks, to the south a mix of browns and yellows. The lake itself seemed to shimmer with the wind, twisting and mixing the colors of the mountains into wavering shapes.

But it wasn’t really what drew Damon’s attention.

It was the tall column of steel that stood on the opposite side of the lake. A tower, perhaps ten stories tall, and two dozen meters thick at the least. It was black like midnight, a needle stuck into the very scenery, slightly bent.

With two gigantic cables leading off and vanishing into the mountains, barely swaying in the wind.

“What the hell?”

Han tapped his shoulder and smirked, pointing southwards to one of the peaks. There, barely visible, was a second black needle, the cable leading from it to the one next to the lake.

“That is the construction that gives Sky Bridge city its name. It is something built by the Gods themselves during the Era of Heroes. They have stood there for thousands of years.” Sybil spoke with pride, smiling widely.

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights.” Han laughed.

“It’s not the height that I mind.” Damon muttered, swallowing. “It’s the drop.”

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