Chapter 802: Precise Control

Neil looked up at the sky as Dustin, Durrum and himself rode through the mud on a flat stone, courtesy of Durrum’s earth powers. He thought it might be sundown, but it was hard to tell when the blanket of black clouds made for a perpetual night. At least the lightning bolts were avoiding them, courtesy of the rabbit controlling them from the mesa.

“It was weird seeing a bunch of messengers eating root vegetables, right?” Dustin asked.

“Definitely,” Neil agreed. The area that had once been his territory now belonged to Durrum, and he was surprisingly happy about that. After claiming the territory he’d experienced a growing sense of power, but in its absence he now felt relief. He didn’t realise it until the power was gone, but something about it hadn’t quite fit. Like an octagonal peg forced into a round hole, it worked but didn’t belong. That the power had blinded him to that made him reassess the behaviour of Lorus.

The stone they were riding ploughed through the mud, no small amount flying up to spatter them. Given that mud was unavoidable in this territory they hadn’t bothered to clean themselves again. The stone arrived at the base of the mesa and stopped.

“This is it?” Durrum asked in his rumbling voice.

“This is it,” Dustin confirmed.

At the base of the mesa, just above the mud line, a section of stone drew back into the surrounding rock and then slid aside, revealing a passage. Neil hopped off the stone they were standing on and went inside, the others following.

“This was here the whole time?” Durrum mused.

“There are advantages to not having to wrangle an army,” Neil said. “Yes, you’ll stumble into more things out in the open, but you’re too busy to dig around and find the hidden treasures.”

The tunnel ended in an elevating platform that carried them up, passing several floors along the way. The rooms were round and largely empty, although one had sleeping alcoves cut into the wall.

“We’ll need to sort out some furnishings,” Neil said, “But this will make a nice, secure home base.”

“It’s nice that we can access storage bags and storage spaces again,” Dustin said, “but I don’t know how many people brought furniture in them. But even natural materials in those alcoves could make them a pleasant enough place to sleep.”

“I like sleeping on hard rock,” Durrum said. “Beds are too soft. I don’t know how much time we’ll spend sleeping, though.”

“Some, at least,” Neil said. “According to Jason, his previous transformation zone experiences each lasted more than a month.”

***

The replica of Jason’s hometown was looking a little worse for wear after a sequence of territory captures. Each neighbouring territory he expanded his influence into caused a stream of living anomalies to spill out of it, across the boundary and into his previously claimed land. The volcanic territory had gone as well as could be hoped, the town not getting much more than singed around the edges. Farrah had done most of the work of keeping the anomalies modelled after fire, earth and magma elementals in check.

Jason’s claimed land was not entirely land, with the boundary to a couple of territories cutting through the water offshore. One ran along the beach while another fronted the marina where Jason had once lived in a cloud houseboat. This was the one he had expanded into most recently, unleashing living anomalies in the form of aquatic and amphibious creatures. Octopi that walked awkwardly on land, lobster centaurs and an army of shabs, the crab-shark hybrids that left Jason nostalgic.

By the time the living anomalies had stopped emerging, the marina was an ugly black soup with dead monster croutons. Standing on the roof of the harbourmaster’s office with Sophie and Farrah all three were wincing at the smell.

“That is genuinely foul,” Sophie said with watering eyes. “Even reducing my sense of smell right down, that is piercing.”

“It’s not quite as bad as rainbow smoke,” Farrah said, “but it’s close, and there’s just so much of it.”

“My first monster was a shab,” Jason reminisced. “I stabbed it from underneath a few times and got some stinky goo on me. Never had much time to think about it, though. I was investigating a magic waterfall inside a mountain that had turned off and it turned back on again, blasting me right off the side of the mountain.”

“I remember that,” Farrah said. “I missed it because… what was I doing again?”

“Looking for the person that set you up with the cannibals,” Jason said. “But Anisa killed him before he could talk.”

“And then Rufus kicked her out of the group, yeah,” Farrah said.

“Why does all the fun stuff happen to you two?” Sophie asked.

“I’m not the one who put all my character points into appearance instead of luck,” Jason muttered.

“Don’t go including me,” Farrah said. “I wasn’t even there for the waterfall thing. I’m not the one who gets all the exciting adventures.”

“You came back from the dead in another universe,” Sophie pointed out.

“Only because Jason was doing it already and they gave him a plus one.”

“Yeah, but you were there,” Sophie said. “When will I get to go to another universe? Or find a mountain in the shape of my head?”

“I think yours would be more popular than Jason’s,” Farrah said, turning to look at the fortress. Sophie did the same.

“What’s in the chin?” Sophie wondered. “Extra storage? A theatre maybe?”

“It’s not that big,” Jason said.

“It’s not small,” Farrah said. “Have you ever noticed that now the inside of Jason’s  hood isn’t completely dark, his chin kind of sticks out?”

“I have,” Sophie said. “I thought it had gotten a lot smaller as he ranked up, but that beard is doing a lot of work. Seeing it in silhouette really shows off the size.”

“As does carving an enormous version of it out of stone,” Farrah observed.

“Now that I think about it,” Jason said in a shameless attempt to change the subject, “The shab wasn’t my first monster, just my first iron rank one.”

“Lesser monsters don’t count,” Farrah said.

“You say that,” Jason told her, “but you didn’t see the potent hamster. They like to jump and bite, two very unwelcome things when you don’t have pants.”

“We don’t need to hear about you not having pants again,” Farrah said.

“Not even a pair of boxer shorts,” Jason said with a winsome shake of the head.

“How about we get away from this smell?” Sophie asked. “Why are we even expanding from this territory?” Sophie said. “Didn’t you want to protect your town from damage?”

“That’s why we’re doing these first,” Jason said. “All through the transformation zone, our allies and enemies are claiming territories as well. With each one, the remaining territories grow more dangerous.”

“So, we’re taking these neighbouring ones while we have the best chance to reduce the damage?” Sophie asked.

“Exactly.”

“And you’re saving the mountain range for later,” Farrah said. “Now that you can control the winds there it will be a big advantage.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “This ability to use the environment as a controllable weapon is new to me. It wasn’t a feature of the previous zones I’ve been in. And if there’s one territory where that can be done, I have to assume there’s more.”

“We’ll have to be careful about entering occupied zones,” Sophie pointed out. “We don’t want some Undeath priest setting off earthquakes under our feet or something.”

“Maybe,” Jason said. “I’m not sure how much precise control they’ll have over their territories. I’m built for claiming territories. If Undeath showed his priests how to claim and unify territories properly, then maybe. I can control the wind there, but I don’t think most people claiming that territory could. Anyone that can is a threat, so you’re right, Sophie. We need to be careful about pushing into occupied zones.”

“Should I start giving them a thorough scout before we decide to make a move?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, pick which one you want to go for next,” Sophie said. “I’ll check it out while you go pick up your next set of messengers from the water territory.”

***

The gold-rank messengers in Belinda’s group had been unable to agree on which of the two would lead their group, claiming and unifying the territories. Resolving that difference of opinion had left the survivor, Kol Kelis Vel, with a supply of gold-rank messenger body parts for use in rituals.

The group now consisted of the now-singular gold-rank leader and most of a second gold-ranker being carried in a trio of sacks by one of the five silver-rankers. That duty fell to Cas Vin Baral who had drawn the ire of the gold-rankers and himself been used as a source of ritual materials.

Another of the five was Belinda who had not missed the glee of Cas at the gold-ranker’s death. Since the gold-ranker had been tormenting Cas and using him for ritual parts, she found his attitude to be fair.

She’d been observing the others as she continued formulating a plan, deciding who would be an asset, a liability or an obstacle. Cas was a complainer, an idiot and too caught up in his sense of persecution to be a problem. The occasional nudge from Belinda kept that persecution coming, just to make sure.

Two of the remaining silver-rankers were sheep, going wherever they were shepherded. They would get in her way, given the chance, but lacked the imagination to be a real hindrance. They could always get lucky, though, so Belinda didn’t dismiss them entirely.

The real problem was the final silver-ranker. He was quiet, but not like the two sheepengers. When they went quiet it was like they turned their brains off to avoid wasting magic charge until they were given their next instruction. This last messenger was quiet because he kept his mouth shut and ears open; a dangerous trait in an enemy. He was always watching but rarely spoke, to the point that she hadn’t even gotten his name yet. She’d caught him watching her more than once.

If she knew what his motivation was, she’d be a lot happier. Did he see her as a threat to the upper position amongst the silver-rankers? The other three certainly weren’t. Did he suspect her? Had he known the messenger whose identity she stole well, or notice that she floated around a little differently from the others?

Any silver-ranker could levitate unless their training was either non-existent or utterly shambolic. Doing so with the effortless finesse of a messenger was another thing entirely, as she could fake the feel of their auras, but not the abilities. That was why, before infiltrating the group, she’d installed floating devices in her clothes. Into the toga-like outfit with sandals, she’d incorporated spots where the devices could be slipped in without being noticed.

The devices were designed for moving heavy cargo that couldn’t be placed in dimensional bags. She’d been using them for years, although rarely for their intended purpose. An innovative adventurer found almost as much use for them as an innovative thief. It wasn’t even the first time she’d made a levitation suit out of them, so it didn’t take too much practise before she was ready. As long as she wasn’t under close observation during heavy action, she was confident she had enough precise control to pass for a messenger using their aura to float.

Or so she had been. Perhaps the final silver-ranker was onto her, either waiting to take advantage or looking for proof before making a play. Whatever shape her final plan ended up taking, it would need to involve dealing with him.

***

Durrum made a sound like gravel being crushed as he looked at the panel inside the mesa’s lightning control room. Neil, Dustin and the rabbit were watching from the far side of the room.

“Is he angry or getting ready to poop?” the rabbit asked.

The other two gave him a reprimanding look

“What?” the rabbit asked. “All he does is make different rock sounds. Can you tell the difference?”

“He can hear us,” Dustin said. “Even if you whisper.”

“Yeah, but he needs me,” the rabbit told him. “And he won’t go [bleep]ing off the healer, either, but you’re expendable.”

“What does he need you for?” Dustin asked.

“Because I cannot understand these controls!” Durrum said angrily from across the room. “This is my territory. Why will it not obey me?”

“Because you aren’t built to rule it,” Neil said. “It has to be someone like Jason Asano. Who you agreed to hand everything over to, remember? The way Lorus wouldn’t.”

Durrum marched across the room to loom over the rabbit.

“You know how this place works,” he said, more accusation than question.

“Yep,” the rabbit said, not bothering to look up at him. “Also, can you back off? You’re twice my height, which leaves me looking at a bag of rocks. Congratulations on what you’ve got going on there, by the way, but not what I want hanging in front of my face.”

“You will tell me how to control this place,” Durrum said.

“Not going to move, okay. I’m just going to pop around you and get some space on my own there.”

The rabbit ducked around him and into the middle of the room. Neil observed that this put the rabbit atop the elevating platform, although the rabbit didn’t activate it. Durrum turned to face the rabbit.

“You must obey me, creature.”

“Is that so?” the rabbit asked. “As you’ve just pointed out, I’m the only one who can run this place. Where I came from, that’s what we call leverage.”

“You don’t come from this territory?” Durrum asked. “Where do you come from then?”

“How the [bleep] would I know?”

“You just said they do something a certain way where you’re from,” Durrum pointed out. “How would you know that if you don’t know where you come from?”

“I know, right? I’m a man of mystery. Or a rabbit of mystery. Rabbit-man of mystery? No, that sucks. I’m going to stick with man of mystery.”

“STOP BABBLING NONSENSE!” Durrum roared, his voice not shaking the room but feeling like it did.

“Say it, don’t spray it, mate.”

Durrum lumbered in the rabbit’s direction only for Neil to duck between them.

“It’s fine,” he assured the brightheart whose rage made the large room feel small. Neil then turned to the rabbit.

“You need to show him some respect,” Neil said.

“I’m open to that,” the rabbit said, “but respect is a two-way street. Which part of the phrase ‘you must obey me, creature’ has the respect in it? The part where I’m his slave or the part where I’m his pet?”

Neil took a calming breath.

“Sometimes in life, rabbit, you have to be the bigger man. Especially when you’re the smaller one.”

“Sure. But once I’ve taught that guy how to run this place, he’s going to snap my neck in as little time as it takes him to grab it. Tell me I’m wrong with a straight face and I’ll start teaching him right now.”

Neil’s lips pressed together unhappily.

“Rabbit, can you go downstairs and give us all a chance to cool down?”

“My [bleep]ing pleasure.” The rabbit said, the elevating platform descending before he’d finished the sentence. A metal plate slid out and up to fill the hole in the floor and Neil turned back to Durrum.

“Durrum, I know the rabbit is annoying. Dear gods, do I know, because I have a better idea where he came from than he does. Which is why what I know and the rabbit doesn’t is that if you kill him, what comes for you will be worse than anything this transformation zone can throw at you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning, Durrum. Honestly, we can probably stop him from killing you, but he’ll be angry enough at you that Lorenn and Marla will be angry at you too, for putting him in that mode.”

Durrum frowned at the mention of the brightheart leaders.

“You’re talking about Jason Asano.”

“I am,” Neil said.

Durrum nodded and his body language settled until he no longer looked like a carnivorous mountain.

“Asano took what was left of my people and gave them a haven,” Durrum said. “My family. I would never do anything to offend him.”

“Then let me make a suggestion. Some people don’t get along with Jason, and there’s a lot of him in that rabbit. The best thing in those situations is to have a go-between. This place is complicated to control. You don’t want to learn how anyway because you’re not going to stay in here and use it. You’re going to be out there, leading and fighting.”

Durrum nodded.

“Pick out some of your people,” Dustin said, moving to join the conversation. “Some of the ones who are a bit smarter than the rest but won’t be missed as much on the battlefield.”

“Smart fighters are good fighters,” Durrum said.

“True,” Dustin said, “but pick some smart ones anyway. Let the rabbit teach them, since this place will work better with more people at all these control panels.”

“There are more panels than we have people to spare,” Durrum said. “I’ll bring some messengers to control it. Unless you are against using them for even that, healer.”

“That seems fine,” Neil said. “I just don’t like the idea of sending people to their death when they don’t get a choice in the matter.”

“We don’t get a choice in the matter,” Durrum said.

“Yes we do, and you know it,” Neil said. “We could hole up in here, use the lightning to protect us and wait for allies to come. But if you tell those messengers to go die, they will. Even if, inside their heads, they’re screaming in fear and despair.”

“I think you give them too much credit,” Durrum said. “They are unfeeling monsters.”

“Maybe,” Neil said. “But I think you know how it feels when the only thing between you and death is misery and a complete inability to control your own fate. I want to see if we can check before feeding them into the meat grinder.”

“You let the cultist messengers die.”

“Some are beyond saving,” Neil said. “As a healer, it’s the hardest thing to accept, but we have to. We can’t do what we do otherwise, and it makes us fight all the harder to save the rest.”

“So you say, but how many have you participated in killing?”

“Too many,” Neil admitted. “I’m not perfect. All we can do is our best. And when we get it wrong, when we make bad choices, the best we can do is learn from them and make better ones.”

Durrum shook his head.

“Those are the words of a man who has not watched his civilisation die. Who has not seen nineteen out of every twenty get massacred. I don’t want to be better. I want victory. I want vengeance. I want to scour the world of everyone who came to my home and killed in search of plunder. Who used the bodies of the people I love as fertiliser to grow more killers. As meat to build deathless abominations. If I have my way, I will drive every messenger to the most painful death I can manage, the moment we’re done with them. I will hunt every cultist, yank the metal from their bodies and beat them to death with it. I will burn every priest and stamp their ashes into the mud until I’m sure that they’re dead. I will kill and kill and kill until all that is left is a knowledge in every place and every people that this is what happens when you come for the brighthearts.”

Neil looked at Durrum, the big man’s eyes wet with tears. He said nothing.

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