UL1 - Book 11 - Chapter 108

Max felt the world shift as he arrived on the portal platform, the familiar hum of energy beneath his boots. Knowing the rules of this place, he immediately stepped off, spotting a gnome with thick spectacles already opening his mouth to shout.

"Off! Off! Off the—" The gnome's words caught in his throat as he got a better look at Max. Those magnified eyes went wide behind the lenses. "Oh. Oh no."

That's a new reaction.

I believe we've made an impression.

A bald dwarf and a goblin with more hair sprouting from his ears than his head stood nearby, both wearing the ugly orange jumpsuits Max could never forget. They'd been arguing about something, hands waving, voices raised.

"I'm telling you, the fermented cave slugs are better than—" The dwarf stopped mid-sentence, following the gnome's frozen stare. "What's got into you, Temmik? You look like you've seen a—"

The dwarf's gaze landed on Max.

"Fuzzlenut’s beard," the dwarf whispered.

Max held out the card he'd been given years ago. "I'm here to see Nerdok. Is he available?"

Neither the dwarf nor the goblin moved. The gnome with spectacles had gone pale, his tablet slipping from his fingers and clattering against the metal floor.

"It's him," someone said from behind Max. "The one from the stories."

Max turned slightly, finding a small crowd already forming. Dwarves in their metal-seamed suits. Goblins in mechanical armor that clanked and hissed. Gnomes of various sizes, all staring with expressions ranging from awe to terror.

"Which story?" another voice called out. "The one where he defused Nimyn's bomb or the one where he destroyed her entire compound?"

"Both! It's both!"

Coins began changing hands as bets were placed. Max had to admire their efficiency. They'd already started gambling on what he might do this time.

Some things never change.

At least they remember us.

Being memorable isn't always a good thing.

A familiar clanking sound drew Max's attention. A goblin in a seven-foot-tall mech suit stomped toward him, the mechanical fingers whirring as they adjusted.

"You!" the goblin said, pointing at Max. "You're the one who… wait, no, that was before my time." The goblin turned to his companion in a matching suit. "Grezzik, is this the one Chairwoman Torla told us about?"

"The human god?" Grezzik leaned forward, mechanical eyes zooming in on Max's face. "Yeah, that's him. I recognize him from the portrait in the hall."

"There's a portrait?" Max asked.

"Uh... sort of." The first goblin scratched his chin with a robotic finger. "It's more of a warning poster. If you see this being, do not engage. Report immediately."

I'm not sure if we should be flattered or offended.

Probably both.

"Look," Max said, holding up the card again. "I just need to speak with Nerdok. I'm not here to destroy anything."

"That's what you said last time!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"And I didn't destroy anything that time either," Max called back. "Nimyn's compound collapsed on its own."

"After you were inside it!"

Max couldn't argue with that logic.

The two goblins in mech suits exchanged glances. Some unspoken communication passed between them before Grezzik nodded.

"Follow us," the first goblin said. "We have a room for... situations like this."

***

The waiting room was nicer than Max expected.

Comfortable chairs lined the walls, and a small table held refreshments that smelled surprisingly appealing. The metal walls were polished to a mirror shine, and soft lighting made the space feel almost welcoming.

Max settled into one of the chairs, studying his reflection in the wall across from him.

They've upgraded since last time.

Or this is the room they use for beings they're afraid to offend.

Also possible.

The door slid open, and Max turned, half-expecting to see Fipple's pink beard. Instead, a younger dwarf entered, her brown beard braided with copper rings that clinked softly as she moved.

"Max Hoste," she said, her voice carrying a practiced calm that didn't quite hide her nervousness. "My name is Dorla. Fipple sends his regards. He wanted to come himself, but his knees aren't what they used to be."

"He's still around?"

"Oh yes, very much so. Retired now, but he insisted I tell you that if you need anything blown up, he knows people." She smiled slightly. "His words, not mine."

Max chuckled. "Tell him I appreciate the offer, but I'm hoping this visit stays peaceful."

"That would be a nice change." Dorla pulled out a tablet and tapped it a few times. "Nerdok has been informed of your arrival. He's finishing up something and will be with you shortly. Is there anything I can get you while you wait? Food? Drink? A map of structural weaknesses you promise not to exploit?"

I like her.

She's got Fipple's sense of humor.

"Just water would be fine," Max said. "And maybe some information."

"Information about what?"

"How are things here? Since my last visit?"

Dorla's expression shifted, some of the professional facade dropping away. "Better, honestly. The council has stabilized. Trade is up. The whole... incident... with Nimyn forced some changes that ended up being good for everyone." She poured water from a pitcher and handed him a glass. "You're something of a legend around here, you know. The stories have gotten... creative over the years."

"How creative?"

"Well, in one version, you killed a dragon with your bare hands while defusing the bomb."

"I didn't kill any dragons."

"In another, you seduced Nimyn and broke her heart so badly she triggered the bomb herself."

Max nearly choked on his water. "That's definitely not what happened."

"I know. But try telling that to the young ones." Dorla shook her head. "The point is, people remember you. Whether that's good or bad depends on who you ask."

The door slid open again, and a familiar figure stepped through.

Nerdok looked exactly as Max remembered. He looked ancient, grey-robed, moving with a slowness that seemed more deliberate than necessary. But those silver eyes were sharp as ever, and the smile that spread across his weathered face seemed genuine.

"Max," the gnome said warmly. "You came back."

***

Nerdok's private office hadn't changed much.

The same simple desk, the same shelves lined with curiosities, the same feeling of deliberate modesty that Max didn't quite believe. The gnome settled into a chair across from him, and Max noticed a bottle already waiting on the desk between them.

"I hoped you might visit again," Nerdok said, gesturing to the bottle. "I've been saving this. A gift from a trader who passed through about ten years ago. He claimed it was fermented starfruit from a world I've never heard of." The gnome's eyes twinkled. "I thought we might compare it to that remarkable drink your dwarf friend makes."

Max pulled a bottle from storage. "Fowl's latest batch. Don't tell him I took it."

"Your secret remains safe." Nerdok poured two glasses of the purple liquid and slid one toward Max. "Now, I suspect you didn't travel all this way just to share drinks with an old gnome. What brings you back?"

Max appreciated the directness. "The portal network. My companions and I have been discussing whether to join."

Nerdok's expression shifted to something more thoughtful, though the warmth never left his eyes. "A significant decision. One that shouldn't be made lightly."

"That's why I'm here. I need to understand what we'd be agreeing to."

The gnome nodded slowly, taking a sip of his drink. "Then let me explain. But first, tell me. How are Tanila and Miranna? Your daughter completed the tower, yes? Quite an achievement."

Max kept his expression neutral, though something cold moved through him.

I never mentioned Miranna's name to him.

He knows more than he should. He always has.

"They're doing well," Max said evenly. "Miranna has her own world now. Her own responsibilities."

"As it should be." Nerdok smiled. "Children grow. They find their own paths. It's both the joy and the sorrow of watching them develop." He set his glass down. "Now, the portal network. What would you like to know?"

Max leaned forward. "Everything. The terms, the obligations, the cost of joining, and the cost of leaving. I want to understand exactly what we'd be agreeing to before I bring anything back to the others."

"A wise approach." Nerdok pulled out a thin tablet and set it on the desk between them. "The collective offers three levels of membership, each with different benefits and obligations."

Text appeared on the tablet's surface, organized into neat columns.

"The first is Trade Partner. Minimal commitment. Your portal connects to the network, allowing commerce to flow. You pay a small fee on goods that pass through, roughly three percent. No other obligations."

"And the limitations?"

"No settlement rights. Traders can visit but not stay permanently. You have no voice in collective decisions. And either party can terminate the arrangement with thirty days' notice."

Max studied the tablet. "What's the next level?"

"Associate Member. Fuller access. Reduced fees, around one and a half percent. Species from other worlds can settle on yours if you permit it. You gain limited voting rights on collective matters." Nerdok paused. "There's also an expectation of mutual support. If another member world faces a threat, Associate Members are expected to contribute, though it's not strictly mandatory."

"Expected but not required,” Max said slowly.

"Correct. Social pressure rather than legal obligation. Most Associate Members find ways to help when called upon. Those who consistently refuse find their standing in the collective... diminished."

There it is. Soft coercion.

Still better than hard obligation.

"And full membership?"

Nerdok's expression grew more serious. "Full Members receive all benefits. Lowest fees, full voting rights, and access to emergency resources if your world faces a crisis. In return, mutual defense becomes obligatory. If a member world is attacked by an outside force, Full Members are required to respond."

"Required how?"

"Military support. Resources. Whatever the situation demands." The gnome leaned back. "It's the highest commitment, but also the highest protection. An attack on one Full Member is an attack on all of them."

Max set the tablet down. "Has that ever been tested?"

"Once, about twelve thousand years ago. A god from outside the collective decided to claim one of our member worlds. Within a week, over twenty gods stood against him." Nerdok's voice was quiet. "He withdrew. The world remained safe. And no one has tried since."

Effective deterrent, if true.

Big if.

"What about conflicts within the collective? Member against member?"

"Prohibited absolutely. Disputes go to arbitration. A council of senior members reviews the situation and issues a binding decision." Nerdok smiled slightly. "We haven't had a serious internal conflict in centuries. Even Igarra understood the value of keeping the peace."

Max's attention sharpened. "You knew Igarra?"

"Of course. Her world was part of the network for quite some time. Difficult god, very territorial, but she recognized that trade benefited her people. She contributed rare minerals. Other worlds provided goods she couldn't produce." The gnome's expression softened with something like nostalgia. "We were sad to hear of her passing. Whatever her faults, she played by the rules."

Testing to see how you react.

Most likely.

Max kept his expression neutral. "She and I had a disagreement."

"So I heard." Nerdok's eyes held no judgment. "These things happen among gods. The collective takes no position on conflicts outside its jurisdiction. What matters is how members behave within the network."

The gnome refilled both their glasses before continuing.

"I should be clear about something, Max. I'm just a helper. I can explain how things work and answer questions, but the formal agreements would need to involve my gods. They handle the contracts, the negotiations, the binding terms." He spread his hands. "I'm simply the one who keeps the portals running and welcomes visitors."

And gathers information. And builds relationships. And positions himself perfectly.

I know what he's doing, Bob.

Just making sure you don't forget.

"If my companions and I decided to pursue this," Max said carefully, "what would the next steps look like?"

Nerdok brightened. "I would speak with my gods on your behalf. Explain your situation, your interests, and your concerns. They would draft a formal proposal with specific terms tailored to your world. You'd review it with your companions, negotiate any points you wanted adjusted, and if everyone agreed, we'd schedule an installation."

"How long would all that take?"

"The proposal? Perhaps a month. The negotiation depends on how many changes you request. The installation itself is quick, maybe a day or two." The gnome leaned forward. "My recommendation, if you want it?"

Max nodded.

"Start as a Trade Partner. Minimal risk, minimal commitment. See how it works for your world. If the benefits prove worthwhile, you can always upgrade later. If not..." He shrugged. "Thirty days' notice and you're out. No harm done."

Reasonable advice.

Suspiciously reasonable.

You're going to be suspicious no matter what he says.

That's the point.

Max stood, and Nerdok rose with him.

"I'll discuss this with my companions," Max said. "We'll need time to consider."

"Of course. Take all the time you need." The gnome walked him toward the door. "And Max? Whatever you decide, I'm grateful for these conversations. It's rare to meet a god who asks questions before acting. Most just... do things and deal with consequences later."

"That approach hasn't worked out well for most of them."

Nerdok laughed. "No. No, it hasn't." He opened the door. "Safe travels home. And do give my regards to your family."

Max paused at the doorway.

He's good at this.

Too good.

"I will," Max said evenly. "Thank you for your time, Nerdok."

"Always a pleasure, Max. Until next time."

The door closed behind him, and Max stood in the corridor for a few seconds, processing everything he'd heard.

Well?

He gave us exactly what we asked for. Clear information, reasonable options, no pressure.

And that bothers you.

It bothers me that I can't find the trap. Max started walking toward the main chamber. He's too good at this, Bob. Every answer was perfect. Every concern addressed. He even mentioned Igarra to show that difficult gods can work within the system.

So either he's genuinely helpful, or he's been doing this long enough to know exactly what a suspicious god needs to hear.

Exactly.

What are you going to tell the others?

Max reached the main chamber and paused, watching the flow of commerce. Dwarves arguing over prices. Goblins in mech suits patrolling the edges. Gnomes scurrying between portal pads with tablets and tools. Wealth and opportunity, right there for the taking.

The truth. That the offer seems fair, the terms seem reasonable, and I still don't trust him.

And their likely response?

That we don't have the luxury of waiting for a better option.

Max activated his travel skill and left the gnome's world behind.

But Nerdok's words followed him home. “I've been doing this a very long time, Max. The ones who thrive are the ones who understand that none of us are truly alone in this.”

The question was whether that was wisdom or a warning.