A Solitary Biotinker 1 (Worm commission, short) (Patreon)

I bit down on an apple as I checked the birthing chamber holding my most recent project. A metric fuck ton of spiders provided the biomass and the majority of the genetic information, alongside some bombardier beetles, squids, octopi, and some plants that used a projectile method of seed dispersal. All of that, combined with some alterations that I barely understood, and not well enough to put into words, and if I did it right, the final result would be a ten foot spider crab like beastie that could produce a fog from its body that would make it both invisible and intangible.

Satisfied with the progress, I made my way down the line of birthing chambers, checking on the inhabitants in each as I went. I had fifty chambers, all filled with similar creatures. I may be a biotinker on Earth Bet, but that was no reason not to apply the Scientific Method. The growing contents in each of the fifty chambers were virtually identical, save for a single genetic expression. Once they were finished, I’d see which one did the best at what I’d been after, note it down, then proceed from there.

All of them were proceeding satisfactorily. It took time; in fact, I'd need another month or two before I could say definitively which ones were going to succeed and which weren't. But so far, everything looked good. Everything was progressing nicely. If things continued at their current pace, I’d feel comfortable leaving my flying fortress base in roughly six months. Hopefully it would coincide with an Endbringer attack, and thus I could use it as positive publicity.

I’d figured out shortly after arriving on this shithole of an Earth that I am a Biotinker, something that was very much frowned upon on Earth Bet. In fact, there was a standing Kill Order waiting to be signed for any Biotinker that made something that could reproduce on its own. None of the big purple spider bois I was cooking would be able to reproduce, the eggs that they’d lay every few days would be basically the equivalent of chicken eggs. If a bit bigger.

Satisfied with the progress, I left the chamber where they were growing, and tossed the apple core into a recycling receptacle at the edge of the room as I exited. It would be brought to a central chamber, broken down, and the leftover nutrients, proteins, fiber, etc. would be used to help feed the base. Stepping outside, I rolled my neck, several satisfying pops accompanying the motion, and made my way to the far end.

My base looked like an unholy mix of manta ray, squid, and sea turtle. The main body looked like a sea turtle’s shell from below, while from above it looked more bowl shaped. The wings, all eight of them, looked like the fins of a ray, spread around the sides of the main body. As for the squid, the only way that I was able to grow an antigravity power into it potent enough to provide lift involved having a number of squid-like tentacles growing out of the back end.

It was a safe assumption that the Parahuman Response Team was keeping telescopes and satellites fixated on me at all times, but fortunately I registered with them in a city that wasn’t home to the only survivors of Ellisburg. So I was given a fair shake, and was registered as a Rogue. I had no interest in partaking in the cops and robbers game that the PRT and villains played, I just wanted to be left alone.

That was why my flying ship didn’t stay in one place. Well, one of the reasons. Honestly, the view and the freedom to go wherever I pleased was another big reason. Being a biotinker, I was able to cultivate strains of plants and some livestock crossbreeds that gave me a steady supply of food, flying through clouds allowed my base to collect water, some neural brain growth thingy let me have internet access, so I had everything I needed.

“Somehow, I don’t think this is what people meant back home when they talked about living off the grid,” I muttered under my breath as I headed over to my own private beach.

Hey, if you could grow a flying home that could take you anywhere in the world, don’t tell me you wouldn’t give it a private beach! The beach was in the front of my base, in the part of the bowl/shell that was nearest where the head would be. In addition to the water, there were a number of palm trees, to give it that beach paradise feel. The sand was a deep black color, though that was more to do with the volcanic rock I used to make the base than anything else. I picked it specifically because it was the richest, most fertile ground I was able to find. I am growing all of my own food after all, why wouldn't I make sure I had the best soil possible?

Sitting on the edge of the shoreline, I kicked my feet up and lay back, folding my hands behind my head. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I stared at the blue sky above. This was my paradise, my escape from everyone and everything. Hell, I regularly forgot the date, life was so perfect.

The occasional call from the PRT, or someone wanting to know what the big flying Biotinker entering their airspace was up to, were the majority of my contact with the rest of the world. Honestly, I was happier this way. For the past year I'd been doing nothing but growing crops, tending to my livestock, and experimenting with building new structures and gadgets. Some of those experiments worked, some did not. That was fine. I didn't need to be part of the world, I was perfectly happy here.

Which was when life decided to fuck it up.