Chapter 68: Moving Out & Putting Things Away (Patreon)
Content
A day has passed since I placed the gate. Things have fallen further into absurdity. At present, I am standing atop a rocky hill near a bronze statue called “The Falconer.” It’s a relatively simple statue of a man in standard theatrical dress reaching out to catch his falcon hunting companion. The hill itself overlooks a field known as “Frisbee Hill” or some other silly name of that sort.
However, what has me shaking my head is the people who have arrived and are setting up encampments. Of course, people have been here since the initial moving picture we created, but after the prophecy was fulfilled yesterday, they have been arriving in mass. Terra says that there are rumors that they may start preventing people from approaching the park or even entering the Manhatten area. Instead of keeping people away, this prompted everyone to rush here. Frisbee Hill is almost already full and the people are starting to spill into a larger field a tad further away named “Sheep Meadow.”
I am wearing an oversized brown coat that I discovered in the cave. The coat settles at about my knees, covering my armour and most of my skirt. Although I do not know who it belongs to, I do not believe they shall mind me using it. Still, with the coat, it does not hide me very well, so I duck behind a tree and watch as a noble’s guard walk to the center of the crowd. In his hand, he holds a device I have been told is called a “me·gah·phone.” Its purpose is to make someone’s voice more powerful.
The noble’s guard stops at the center of Frisbee Hill and raises it to his mouth. “This is a quarantined area, anyone that chooses to s—”
He pauses when a familiar pair of noble’s guards walk up behind him. These two are, of course, Jessica and Leo. They patrol the Park regularly, which is why we ran into one another so often. Jessica steps behind the noble’s guard with the megaphone, leans forward, and whispers something into his ear. Walking away, the man sits there, blinking but unmoving.
Once again, he speaks, “Nevermind.” Spinning around, everyone glances at one another as he walks away and then returns to establishing their encampments.
Behind me, I hear the crunch of heavy feet. “What up, Fairy. Spying on people again?” Lorcan’s voice says with a laugh. Glancing back, I see him approaching with what looks to be a fully cooked turkey leg. “Some lady was passing out turkey legs for the needy or somethin’. I feel like I’m at a festival, pretty cool.”
Reaching into my pouch, I pull out my pad and write, “So this lady assumed thou wast a needy then?”
He squints, reading my message. Gradually his chewing slows until it stops and an expression of realization comes across him.
At first his brow furrows, but after looking down at his clothes, he just sighs, “Guess so. I’ve been spending all my money on medical bills for ma.” Taking another bite, he points the turkey leg at Jessica, who is walking away. “She's a badass. Sent that other officer running with their tail between their legs.”
“Doth thou knoweth what she said to him?”
With his mouth full, he replies, “Nah.” Swallowing, he continues, “But if she’s been workin’ for the Espositos, then she and her pal have probably been collecting dirt on the other officers for years. I’m sure Galtry asked her to keep the other officers quiet.”
I nod and then a thought crosses my mind. “Why art thou here? Shouldst thou not be busy elsewhere?”
“I’ve been watching the Terrace, but the main reason I’m here is because of that.” Again using his turkey leg, he points toward a fountain in the distance. There the black RV sits with the escorts outside, keeping guard but acting relaxed so as to not make it obvious. “Parked the RV at the Cherry Hill fountain. Gonna use it as a new base camp. Didn’t Galtry talk to you about this? You’re supposed to be moving into the RV for a few days or whatever.”
According to Terra, the RV is essentially a moving fortress, which is why she had it made in the first place. This is why I agreed to stay in it until I hibernate in a few days. I nod. “Aye, I am aware. I shall be finishing my business at the cave soon.” I change to a new paper, wiggle my finger to get it to stop sticking to me, and then continue, “I just did not know thou wouldst be here already.”
“Well, I’ve been watching the Terrace anyway, so I’d be here either way. Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” He bites the turkey leg, reaches behind him, and pulls out a book. I stare at it, reading its cover. “Quad Ruled Book for Map Making.”
‘...Map paper?’ Taking it in hand, I gaze at his turkey-legged face.
“They are cartography papers. Galtry had me pick them up from some card shop I heard about from a camp full of nerds.”
“Nerds? Are nerds map makers?”
“Uhm, they draw maps for their games sometimes.” Shrugging, he points off into the distance, “They’re over there. You can also ask Shriek about them; it’s his pals I think.”
I stare off into the distance where a large tent is erected with a sign that reads, “Become a Tower expert. Join us for hours of imaginative strategizing and rehearsals.” Outside the tent, I notice some type of drawing of a green-skinned woman with tiny, colorful butterfly wings and very little clothing. Another sign is attached to the drawing that reads, “Find out why a trusted industry professional theorizes the Fairy looks like this rendering beneath their armor.”
Turning away, I shake my head, “Nay, I thank thee for the paper. I am meant to meet Owl at the cave so I do not have time to visit the ‘nerd’ map makers today.” I shuffle off toward the RV. ‘Not on this day or any for that matter.’
When I arrive, one of the escorts unlocks the door for me. I enter and set the map paper on the marble table for later. Searching for Terra, I discover several brown boxes with a note attached. “Constance, more supplies for your little friend in the dark. Luckily we ordered early and I already had a lot set aside because many crop/fruit seeds sold out after the System announcement. I wasn’t able to get my hands on many rare plant seeds and what I did may not arrive in time. Might be able to scavenge some in future; NYC is enormous after all.”
Opening one of the boxes, I study some of the supplies, including a clear bag with plentiful amounts of ‘Giant Sequoia,’ ‘California Coast Redwood,’ and something I requested recently, ‘Cork Oak Seeds.’ [1] Then there are vast amounts of seeds from fruit trees, market crops, herbs, spores, and vegetables.
‘These will all be tremendously important. I shall ask for help carrying them; besides, I need to force Gen out of the cave and into the RV until the Tower is ready.’
While placing everything back into the box, I notice a stack of paper along with a second note on it. Securing the box, I read the note, “Purchased what insects I could, not many rare ones unfortunately. Animals have been more difficult to purchase and procure; not many I could get on such short notice. We’ll look into ways to find more, and I have ideas for where to find them. Could also ask people to bring their own exotic animals when traveling to the Tower. Will try to make sure someone takes care of some of them.”
The stack of papers beneath the note seems to be a proof of purchase for things with names like lacewing larva, crickets, ladybugs, praying mantis egg kit, desert beetles, numerous butterfly eggs, various moth eggs, and the list goes on for pages.
‘How many bugs and animals does she believe I shall require in the beginning? Furthermore, where does she plan to store these until I may or may not need them? Ah, well, I suppose it is better to have them if I ever do need them. ’
I remove an endless pen from my pouch and write, “It is appreciated,” and then draw a small butterfly at the bottom. Taking one of the lighter boxes in hand, I inform the escort I shall return soon. One of the escorts insisted they follow to guard me, but I decline, considering I am merely walking to the cave on the far side of The Lake. I leave the RV.
Returning to my little cave hermitage, I come across a group of Helping Hands departing. Since the Hands have arrived, the cave has undergone some alterations. Where once the floor was rough and uneven, it has been smoothed down. Any significant obstructions on the wall have also been removed. The most notable change is that they have added two doors—one at the cave’s entrance and one between the gate room and the main area of the cave. According to them, both doors are just “steel shells,” and they shall be adding embellishments to them.
I approach a Helping Hand that wears a complete set of black leather and a crow mask, which means his name is Crow, I presume. “Whereabouts is Owl, Crow?”
“He’s in the glass room moving the coffin as you requested,” Crow says, nodding his head toward the gate room’s door. “Someone said something about turkey legs and food trucks, so we’re all heading that direction.”
I wave farewell and stroll into the gate room. There I see the reddened faces of Owl, Wolf, Rabbit, and another Hand with a Raccoon mask. They grit their teeth carrying the iron coffin. Moving the coffin is something I requested they do because I am planning to ask Earl if I may store it within Tenebrous.
What I did not expect was the hairy little man that is still embracing the coffin even while they carry it. Except, he is not shouting at anyone; instead, he is snoring at them. He must have fallen asleep.
I place the small box I brought from the RV to the side and shake my head. ‘Gen must be exhausted after guarding the coffin for so long.’
Observing the four people in animal masks struggling under the heavy iron coffin’s weight, I wave and approach. They stumble and Gen takes a drowsy swipe at the air. Proceeding onward, they glance at me when the coffin is just a touch away from the gate entrance.
While they hold the coffin, I hurry to the edge of the room and retrieve some poles. Placing the rods underneath the coffin, I perform the thumbs-up gesture. They lean over and cautiously lower it to avoid squashing Gen’s fingers. The rods creak when they place it upon them.
When they slip their own fingers out from beneath it, they pant for air.
“God in Light, that crap is heavy,” Rabbit whispers, her chest moving up and down rapidly. “Why would anyone ever need a coffin this heavy. I really wish we had brought the dolly with us.”
Owl takes one last big breath and then returns to his usual demeanor. “It’s some type of mortsafe I believe, presumably from a European crypt someplace. [2] Never seen one like this before, though. Mortsafes are usually made to keep people from digging up the soil to rob a grave.”
“Oh, hey, I just remembered. Doesn’t Ferret collect mortsafes? I think it’s a hobby of his.” Wolf smiles at me, continuing, “Seems you and Ferret have something in common, Miss Nightingale. Perhaps you should stop by his card shop to say hi. I’m sure he’d love to show you his collection.”
‘They collect coffins and operate one of these card shop places that Lorcan mentioned earlier…’
Putting away my paper and retrieving my whiteboard from the corner of the gate room, I write, “We do not and I doubt we shall ever have anything in common.” Making the sign for “never,” I then write, “Owl, I will require a moment to myself shortly.”
“Yes, Miss Nightingale, I’ll finish preparing the camera equipment.” He waves at Rabbit, Wolf, and Raccoon. “Out, out, you three need to get back to spreading Miss Galtry’s words among the crowd.”
I tilt my head. ‘Miss Galtry’s words…? Ah, wait, I remember now. Terra had them begin spreading her name amongst the people who came to the Tower. I believe it was something simple like, “where is Galtry” the goal is to get people to ask for her help before she does anything.’
Reaching out, I stop him and hold up one finger. “I need help carrying some things from the RV back here first. As well as an escort to take Gen back. May thou assist me?”
“Ah, of course, little Gen here wouldn’t let anyone else touch him except for you.”
“Aye. He is not the most friendly.” Handing my whiteboard to Owl, I reach down and slide my hand beneath Gen’s body. He squeaks, reaches out his hand, and grips my arm. With his eyes still closed, he pulls himself into my arms, resting his head against my shoulder.
“I have not lived until this moment.” I hear the sounds of hands slapping something. Looking over, I find Rabbit squishing her own face with her hands. “I’m starting to think she might be an actual Fairy.”
‘If I am honest, I was trying to push him off the side.’ I take a heavy step forward. ‘Besides, he’s heavy! All that pudding he has been consuming when my back is turned!’
Thus begins my slow return to the RV with the four Hands and the sleeping, heavy Gen. With my hands full, I cannot respond, so besides Rabbit, who keeps commenting on Gen and me, it is a relatively quiet if not slow journey. Upon returning, I take Gen into the small back room, where Terra prepared a few things to keep him entertained. Mostly things she says this era’s children play with, I want to fiddle with them myself, but I cannot get distracted with all that is happening. I shall borrow them for myself later.
Placing him on the bed, I retrieve some puddings Lorcan bought and then place them on the bedside table. Speaking of Lorcan, Gen and he get along somewhat, so he shall be the one taking care of him. Well, honestly they only met yesterday, but Gen did not throw anything at him. That’s better than anyone else thus far. Though for some reason, I believe Gen thinks he is a bigger version of himself.
‘Should I wake him? Nay, he will understand when he sees the pudding, I think.’
I exit the room, bumping into Lorcan as soon as I do so. “Hey. Is the monkey in there?” he asks in a muffled voice suppressing a laugh.
I narrow my eyes, staring at him. He is wearing the ugly ape mask he used yesterday at the hotel. ‘Nay, thou art not going in there wearing that.’ Writing a message on a sticky paper, I stick it to the door. “Barred entry. Those that attempt entry shall understand true sorrow.”
Peering into his eyes, I move past, only breaking eye contact when the arc suit will not allow me to continue.
I wander back into the main room; behind me, I hear him scoff. “Fine, whatever. I’ll do it later.”
“We’ve found the boxes Miss Nightingale, is little Gen settled in?” Owl asks with a chuckle.
Nodding, I take a large metal jar I plan to use when I return to the cave along with a small box and gesture for the Hands to follow. Again with my hands full, the Hands talk freely amongst themselves.
Wolf tips the box reading the side. “These boxes remind me, did we ever get those seeds for Miss Galtry?” he asks, looking at Rabbit.
“It probably won’t happen. I might get one of them, but the other two are dubious.”
I glance at Rabbit and tilt my head.
“She was just looking for some seeds for an especially rare fig and olive tree, but it seemed like more of a curiosity thing. They aren’t much different than normal figs or olives, just pretty much extinct.”
‘Ah, I could see why she asked; growing an especially rare plant does seem interesting. Something for the future, perhaps.’
Continuing, she says, “But they’re on the other side of the world and with things how they are, no ones willing to take the time to discuss such minor things.”
I nod.
Together we return to the cave and they drop the boxes next to the iron coffin for me. Dropping my own box, I set the metal jar to the side, retrieve my whiteboard, and write, “I appreciate thy help. I need a moment in here alone.”
Whipping a bit of snow from his shoulder, Owl responds, “Of course, as I said earlier, I’ll prepare the camera equipment while you do what you need to.”
“Bye-bye, Fairy,” Rabbit shouts, her voice echoing throughout the gate room.
Wolf and Raccoon just laugh as they walk out, waving farewell.
“I’ll be waiting in the next room; take your time,” Owl states, accompanying them out.
The four exits. I lock the door they recently installed and retrieve my metal jar. Pushing the cattail through the hole on the side of the arc suit’s neck, I walk toward a crevice that exists between the bottom of the stained glass and floor. The cattail slips into the crevice pulling out six plastic bottles, all partly filled with paste from my shell.
Since the incidents with the dinosaur, wretched rat, and Gen’s near consumption, I have been cautious about how much I eat and when. Further, I was careful to store it in the gate room away from Gen’s prying eyes. The cave’s smell helped disguise its location as well. I presume since I cannot smell. I plan to move the contents into the more secure metal jar to prevent accidents in the future.
‘Now that I am alone once again, it is time to put my most dangerous things where only I may go.’
Opening the shiny silver jar, I twist the lids from the plastic bottles and pour them into the jar until all six bottles are empty. I secure the jar’s lid and then reach into the crevice once more, removing a rubbish bag. Due to the paste’s consistency, the inside of the bottles still has paste that clings to the sides. So I recap them, carefully store them in the rubbish bag, and then place the rubbish bag atop the coffin.
I return to the crevice, removing every item I have been collecting these past weeks: the disassembled pistol, stained ecology book, the contract book, messenger orb, some of my sign language materials, my first endless pen, deputy clippie, and my maps of Tenebrous. Then the last item, a piece of attire known as a “t-shirt” that Shriek purchased for me. It is the one with the T-sign fist on it, I shan’t ever wear it, but perhaps I shall find a use for it someday.
Storing all the items in their own rubbish bag, I check the crevice once more and then move to the gate. I take a brief moment to shake my hands and prepare myself. In my mind, I command the gate, ‘Prithee, open.’ The woman in gold and the man in leather part their swords and the two stained glass panels slide backward.
A few feet from the edge of the door stands Earl carrying her lantern with a hand over her mouth and a smile stuffed with sharp teeth peeking between her fingers. When the gate opens fully, Earl speaks, “Astonishment: This one was startled by the user. The user's visit was totally unexpected.” Her eyes study me, looking me up and down. “Inquiry: May this one ask why the user has chosen to encase themselves in worldly material?”
“Thou art lying. I do not believe thee was standing there by pure coincidence.” I hoist a box of seeds. “Also, what is wrong with the arc suit!?”
Dropping her arms, she hugs the lantern and tilts her head. “Statement: Perhaps this one always stands here awaiting the user’s arrival at all hours. Then it would be a surprise no matter what.”
I narrow my eyes, looking into her white pupils. “Is that true?”
“Response: Of course not; this one is very busy.” Her eyes dart between Tenebrous and me. “Further, the beast spirit fled again. This one can’t find it. Perhaps this time it has been lost to another spirit’s grasp.”
“Is that so? Mayhaps I can help search for it once the Tower is complete. Ah, these boxes can be given to thee, correct?”
She nods. I toss the first box of seeds through the gate. It slides to a halt at Earl’s canvas shoes. Earl’s eyes study me, looking me up and down. “Belated Response: As for the ‘arc suit,’ this one does not understand why the user would encase themselves in it. This one knows some material creatures will put on colorful performances to entice mates to generate more fleshies... Yet, Kiln does not do such things.”
“Hush, Earl. Do not say such things.” Lifting another box, I push it through the gate. “I fancy the arc suit. It has allowed me a lot of freedoms I had lost… It also looks exquisite, does it not?”
“Subsequent Response: This one thinks it does look elegant for something from the material world. Sentiment: This one merely believes the user shouldn’t have to hide in this ‘arc suit’ just because of a few fleshies.”
“I am not hiding. It provides protection, amongst other things. Oh, speaking of which I have been considering new adaptations, what is thy opinion on this?”
Tapping the lantern, she ponders my question and then says, “Recommendation: The user should wait unless they worry for their safety.”
“...Wait? I should not get as many as I can now?”
“Inquiry: Which adaptation would the user consider their strongest and most versatile?”
I think for a moment, but it’s rather obvious. “I suppose the copepods.”
“Subsequent Inquiry: and the copepod adaptation, what meal provided it?”
“I believe I understand. Thou art implying that adaptations from magical creatures would be better in some way?”
She nods and smiles. “Statement: The user is quick to understand. Extrapolation: Adaptations from monsters, beasts, or other magical creatures will ordinarily be better. Additionally, as the user has noticed, some adaptations can become more costly when the user chooses one. Not only that, but adaptations can interfere with one another, meaning every time the user selects one, they may lose other prospective options.”
“So… the adaptations I have selected will forever be weaker?”
“Answer: No, not necessarily. The user will just have to discover creatures with a similar build as their adaptation. Explanation: Like the tendrils on the cattail, for example, the user will need to find a magical creature with something comparable. That or a creature that has something that doesn’t interfere with the tendrils. It’s simply confining to select adaptations from meek organics when there will be so many more desirable ones for the user in the future.”
Pushing two more boxes through the gate, I nod. “I understand. Then I believe I shall still take the pearl adaptation, but then I shall wait. The paste is something I cannot keep letting happen whenever it desires…”
“Statement: It is the user’s choice. Subsequent Statement: This one also wishes to state how happy they are with the user’s recent actions.”
“Aye? What is it thou art referring to exactly?”
Raising a fist, she makes the ‘T’ sign with a mocking grin. “Response: The user has attracted so many fleshies. Even if they merely starve to death in the Tower, we will collect immense quantities of Essence. This one believes we shall be able to expedite the extension of the Tower’s first floor very quickly. The user has finally put themselves first.”
I narrow my eyes and sweep another box through the gate. “I have always put myself first. Just because I never killed anyone deliberately does not mean I have not put myself first.”
She shrugs, glancing at the boxes that surround her. Tearing a piece of the brown box, she studies it and places it in her mouth. “Note: Made from some type of conifer.” She swallows it, then stares at me as I toss in another box. “Inquiry: The user wishes to inspire the fleshies?”
“Aye, but in all honesty, it is going too well.”
“Response: There is no such thing as ‘too well.’ If they all wish to rush into the Tower, we shall simply eliminate the ones who know the passphrase, sealing them in. After which we merely wait for things to sort themselves out while reaping the Essence they leave.”
“...Aye, let’s not do that, Earl. What was thy question regarding?”
“Answer: I intended to hide the sprout’s growth while the user hibernated, but now I wish to give the fleshies a small display.” Raising a finger, she continues, “Preemptive Response: Before the user asks, it shouldn’t kill any fleshlings.”
“Well, the tower is not a secret anymore, but I prefer thou not do anything too fantastical.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “Acknowledgment: Of course, it’ll be in good taste.”
‘...I shall have to inform Terra.’ I point at the coffin. “This is important, Earl, and could attract dangerous people if I leave it out here. So may I store this coffin in Tenebrous?”
“Inquiry: A snack for when the user awakens? Extrapolation: I prefer other Kiln not be allowed in, but this one is sealed and not particularly active. It shouldn’t be an issue unless removed from its enclosure.”
‘So it is indeed a Kiln, I was not truly certain.’
“To answer thy question, it depends on them more than I.”
Squinting at the coffin, she frowns. “Warning: Other Kiln are not to be trusted.”
“That still does not mean I should just eat them at the very first moment. Without a contract, I am uncertain whether I could genuinely trust anyone.”
She hugs the lantern tighter and purses her lips, glaring at me.
“Then I shall store this coffin and…” I gesture toward the items I pulled from the crevice earlier. “And this paste and other items as well?”
“Acknowledgment: Yes, yes, the paste and other things the user has collected are fine as well. The only that isn’t permitted is sentient worldly beings.”
I push the coffin, it glides over the metal rods I placed early. The rods rattle as the coffin and other items that top it glide into Tenebrous.
When I finish, I take one last look around the gate room and then wave farewell. “I believe that is everything, Earl. I suppose we shall see each other when I awake.”
Waving, she nods.
I tilt my head. “Then till the morrow?”
She nods, still waving. “Response: Of course, this one will always be with the user.”
After a moment, I nod and speak into my head, ‘Close the gate.’
The woman in gold and the man in leather start to bring their swords together, but something stops them. Their swords begin to wiggle as if they are straining against something.
Still waving, Earl tilts her head and runs the lantern across the iron coffin, illuminating it. “Inquiry: Does the user know the fate of an interface that loses their Kiln?”
Glancing around, I shake my head without a word.
She raises her lantern. “Answer: They lose the only thing they remember having, their only purpose for existing at all, and are left to rot in Tenebrous, with the source of light that they adore more than anything snuffed and stagnant.”
“I…”
The two swordsmen that guard the gate tremble as the gate itself squeaks.
Lowering her lantern, she maintains her wave, “Declaration: Soon the user will no longer be ‘the user,’ but the genuine Mistress of both the Tower and this one. This one trusts Mistress and won’t ever object to her decisions. They would cut their own head off if commanded.” A low growl leaks from within the gate as Earl raises her leg and strikes her heel upon the coffin. The gate creaks, sliding closed slowly. “Statement: But if Mistress is careless, gets herself eaten or destroyed, leaving this one to rot alone, it would be the ultimate betrayal.”
Earl stops waving, lowers her lantern, and bows. “Apology: This one promises nothing like this will happen again, Mistress. Please excuse this one.”
The gate slams shut.
“...Earl.”
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[1]. Cork Oak: The primary source of cork for wine bottle stoppers, cork flooring, and other such things.
[2]. Mortsafe: contraptions designed to protect graves from disturbance.