Vice Bunker 31 (Patreon)

Vice Bunker

Chapter 31

-VB-

Fucking Taylor, Kali, Harley, and Vicky were fun.

Dressing up Sophia after scaring her half to death was also very fun.

Designing and playing with tech, making impossible things, was fun.

Calculating exactly how I was going to keep all of my girls, our future children, and my people alive through the current apocalypse was, is, and will continue to be a headache.

First off, I had to carefully calculate supplies, which included everything from food rations to toilet paper. Yes, I could make a lot, thanks to my nanotech providing me with the necessary “nanoforge” to print food and everything else from basic elements, but this did not mean that supplies were to be wasted willy-nilly when we don’t know when we might come under a siege so bad I’ll be using most of my nanoforge to make bullets and bombs, not foodstuff. This was why I actually stored a third of the foodstuff and other supplies I made because, well, preparation never hurt.

Second, utilities hurt my brain. This was actually something Taylor was helping. Her bugs were wonderful when it came to waste disposal and pest control, and because of her power’s built-in lack of revulsion toward bugs, she readily got rid of all of the waste without problem, even if it meant feeling her bugs devour rats.

Rats were actually a nuisance. Some managed to make it in, and they always found cracks and crevices to survive in. Well, they survived for a short period of time before Taylor, once she got out of her funk and sexy time post-coital hazy, got to work and put all of those rats to genocide.

(I wasn’t worried about actual extinction, because I assumed that, at the very least, the PRT bunker must have at least a breeding pair running around eating their food. If it wasn’t them, then other bunkers around the world should have them, especially so if it was a bunker run by an environmentalist.)

Utilities also included running water and electricity, neither of which were easy to run inside of a bunker because of the fact that most of the structure was actual rock and not concrete. Because of this, I was the only one capable of fixing most electrical lines and one of maybe three who could fix the piping.

Sufficed to say, I was investing a lot into nanotech for a very different reason compared to what most people thought I wanted them for. It’s great to melt down my enemies into a puddle of goo, but it’s better if I don’t have to touch people’s waste.

The one thing that we did not have … was an actual doctor. Because of this, a lot of procedures that would have been normal in a hospital was not only a problem but an experiment as well because not many people knew how to take care of them in the place first. We had exactly three nurses, but only one of them could be considered a veteran while the other two were barely not a novice.

So as the good days passed and the struggle of long days began, problems began to pop up one by one. One of the biggest problems that I encountered was medication needed for anesthetics. Why? Because just like I was with my girls, other couples also fucked and got pregnant. Just last week alone, we’ve had two births, and neither mothers had good anesthtic to make their deliveries easy.

I also could not depend on Amy for everything, and even she didn’t have an encyclopedic list of all antibiotics, antidepressants, and so on that people relied on. We could make some of the more basic ones like epinephrine, serotonin, dopamine, and other hormonal-based medicines because Amy provided me molecular examples that I could mass produce at my nanoforges, but the rest were currently absent from our supply cabinets.

There was good news among all of these, though.

The apocalyptic winter got worse and wiped out the last of the Cannibals, which meant no more sieges!

There was also bad news.

Some other PRT branch bunker’s Tinker managed to get some kind of portal network working and got in contact with PRT ENE. This meant that PRT ENE was sure to get strong, and might even start to go back on their agreements, not that they cared to keep to the agreement in the first place if Harley’s and my encounter with their grunts at the tunnel was any indication.

With Sophia being my care, the “greater” PRT might use that as an excuse to attack me.

It would be … quite characteristic of a government organization.

1. Resources are thin.
2. Find an excuse to cause conflict with someone else with resources.
3. Find a way to defeat said foreign entity to acquire said resources.
4. Spark conflict.
5. Lose or win, start over again.

So what was I to do?

I wasn’t going to preemptively attack them. As great as that might feel, I liked my little piece of underground heaven, and an action like that was sure to break the peace in it.

…

Ah.

I knew what to do. I will do what Bismarck did.

I will wait until circumstances presented themselves that allowed me to formulate an advantageous plan.

Simple, really. Actually, no, not simple. Straightforward.