87: Minions (Patreon)

Nicolai was feeling very pleased with himself as he left. He’d used up his two remaining Contracts, but he felt it well worth it.

He’d already seen how effective the woman, Jo, was with her sniper. Under other circumstances he’d have taken it for himself, simply because he tended to believe in his own abilities above others. That, in fact, had been his original intention. But since he’d been able to get her under a Contract, bound to aid him in combat, he figured leaving her with it would be of more worth.

Nicolai preferred to get up close and personal, anyway, and his current setup of Symbiotes, Imbued, and weaponry was well-suited for that. It would be a waste for him to sit at a distance shooting at people, when he could have her do that for him. On top of that, he was assured that soon he would have access to the Trade Link. At that moment he could buy his own guns. In that regard, leaving the rifle with Jo was a way to win a little of that precious social currency called trust.

He also had high hopes for Beth. She was only moments away from becoming a Cultivator. When he came upon them, Beth had had her Seed’s Soul Sense out and about, surprising him. He’d done his best not to bother it during their interaction, figuring the girls were freaked out enough. It boded well for her, though. If she was used to using her Soul Sense, she was likely already bonded with her Seed and was hopefully integrating it at that moment.

Above that, he sensed there was more hidden within them. They appeared completely human, no signs of augmentation, which was very rare. It meant they came either from unbelievable poverty, or extreme wealth. He was pretty sure it was the latter. Each time he’d seen Jo’s work with the rifle, her shots had been unerringly accurate. That suggested a higher grade, unlocked Combat Chip, or significant combat training, or both.

Jo had shown great skill and experience when arguing her side of the Contract, so much so he’d found himself a little pressed, which had been nice; he had found the competitive process quite stimulating. He’d still gotten what he’d wanted from the Contract, though he’d worked to give an impression of faint disappointment to her.

He’d originally considered pushing for a true slave Contract, which he felt he could have achieved if he’d really tried, but his Mask had had perhaps the strongest reactions to this idea that he’d ever experienced from it, and had fervently reminded him of his own slavery. It had actually managed quite a logical argument this time.

It had said that if it was a slave Contract then they would have hated him and been always looking for a way to worm out of it and stab him in the back. It had reminded him that when a piece of Zero-Twelve, that had been his desire, too. On top of that was the fact that the Contracts would all be rendered null and void in due time. At that moment, if he’d forced a slave Contract, they would have immediately turned on him.

As it was, the “fairness” of the Contract, along with the work he would do worming his way into their confidences, should mean that further collaboration would remain an option even after the Contract system was ended. He intended to help them grow stronger so that they could better help him in his aims.

By the time the Contract ended, assuming they survived, they would likely be quite strong and experienced. By that point he believed he would have been able to gain their true loyalty; something that could last far longer than a slave Contract.

This new world, this Great Game, was only just beginning. There was no telling who might be a major player in the future. This act, therefore, could be seen as a kind of gambling; sowing seeds that might one day bear fruit.

Taken together; Jo’s skill at negotiations; the fact she likely had quite a high-end uninhibited combat chip alongside combat training; and the cultured New London accents the pair possessed, all of it hinted at Jo and Beth being raised as scions of some very wealthy and influential family.

Nicolai didn’t believe any human was intrinsically better than another. But high levels of training, the luck of genetics, and high quality augments meant that in a practical sense, some were more or less useful. He suspected the pair would be very helpful to him. There was also the fact of their youth. He judged the pair both at maybe nineteen or twenty years and younger people tended to be easier to manipulate. Thus, these seeds were more likely to bear fruit than most.

Most important of all, he could trust them almost entirely. Sure, there was always the chance that events might lead them to attack him in spite of the Contract, literally throw away their lives to see him dead, but he felt it extremely unlikely. He’d specified that if one of them broke the contract, it counted as both of them breaking it, that they would both receive Heaven’s judgement. Considering their clear love and protectiveness for one another he felt that should be pretty iron-clad.

‘Making friends,’ he hummed, smiling. Well, not really. But kind of. His Mask was proud and happy, and thus Nicolai felt proud and happy, too. He intended to stick to what he’d agreed to, to help them grow stronger, and to use them well, not throw them away. When all was said and done and the time was up in a month and a bit, he hoped that they would see him as a natural ally, that they could continue with their partnership. This fell in line with his desire to be a Better Man, and, thanks to how he’d worded the Contract, cost him very little.

The two of them would also aid him in continuing his work with the others. Having two people on his side in every argument would be very useful.

As he entered the downstairs area and his Soul Sense spread out, it came into contact once again with the painting. When he’d first passed through here, following Jo, he’d felt it with his Soul Sense, and heard it speak. It had felt unpleasant then and it still did now. An oiliness seemed to cover it, preventing his Soul Sense pushing within. A kind of barrier.

‘Hello, human,’ said the painting. ‘Well, well, look at you. Smart, quick, ruthless. You almost remind me of myself.’ A dark chuckle.

Nicolai moved before the odd painting dominating the wall, the shadowy figure within shifting. ‘Hello, figure-in-the-painting. I’m told you want a paintbrush?’

‘That’s right, that’s exactly right,’ it hissed.

‘And what will happen, once we bring it to you?’

‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ It chuckled. ‘Or, don’t, and let her die from the transgression. Your loyal new servant. What a waste of such a well worded Contract.' It laughed again, louder.

Nicolai smile turned sharp. This creature knew about the Contract they’d just formed. That meant it was able to see what was happening up there. How? His Soul Sense pressed harder against it but only slid away.

He reached out towards it with his bare hand, then paused, considering the action. He didn’t understand this thing, and it resisted his Soul Sense. Was it wise to allow his body and Soul to directly contact the painting? Perhaps not. He’d leave the painting alone, for now. Perhaps Kleos would know more.

‘We will see,’ he said, and turned away.

Moving through the crack and out from behind the mouldering tapestry that hid it, his thoughts moved to the group. He was also feeling clearer in his intentions with them. Initially, he’d only kept himself from killing them out of his vague desire to be human, and he’d not been certain what he wanted to do with them, past having his band removed. Then he’d realised the possible benefits of seizing control of them, and following the urgings of the part of him, his Mask, he had, surprisingly, decided to stick with them.

His Contract with the girls was an example of what he desired to create with the group. A situation where he was in control, able to use them as assets to assist his goals.

Simultaneously, after this time with his Mask continuously feeding various novel emotions and desires into him, he felt that he wanted to be good to them. To be a real human, not pretend, to whatever degree he was capable. Of course, he would do so in his own way, and seek still to complete his goals. He felt that people often tended to become blind to what was necessary. He would act properly.

They would all grow stronger under his care, and they would help him accomplish his goals in turn. It would all feed back and across, everyone thriving together. For those of them who seemed unable to adjust to the realities of this new world, perhaps a little pruning of the group would be in order. The overly principled old man, for instance, was one Nicolai would be watching carefully. And Karl obviously had to go. Once that was done he would wind the group tightly around his finger. Manpower would be useful for the plans he had.

Through this admittedly somewhat convoluted process of reasoning, Nicolai had managed to work out a way to achieve all of his conflicting aims and desires, something which pleased him greatly. Not only was he being a Better Man, but, conveniently, he was also doing what he actually wanted to do: improve his situation, gain more resources, grow his Cultivation, increase his options, hone his skills.

He was practically skipping as he headed out across the bridge.

Arriving at the dead prisoner, he paused, pivoted, and push-kicked the corpse off the edge, then leaned forwards to watch it spin limply through the air, smaller and smaller, disappearing into the foliage far below. He used some water and the rags to mop up the fresh blood before tossing the rags, too. He’d tell them the prisoner had gone away to safety. Ben might not believe him, but the old man couldn’t prove anything and the others wouldn’t be inclined to rock the boat after Nicolai had taken them to a new safe place.

For a moment, his Mask twisted. It was upset. Again. It said his actions were so… clinical. Cold. Had it been necessary to use the prisoner as bait?

‘Don’t be silly,’ he told it, told himself. ‘He’d already betrayed us. We can’t be getting upset over everyone. No one has time for that.’ He frowned, his Mask unconvinced, and Nicolai found himself in conflict with it.

He sighed. ‘Well, what should I have done, then?’ The Mask whispered a response. Nicolai laughed. ‘But that’s stupid! He’d already betrayed us!’ The whispering was less certain, now, for a moment, but the Mask rallied around a new point.

‘But I’m only lying to them to help them—to make things smoother—so why does it matter?’ Nicolai shook his head, frustrated, annoyed that after he’d made everything fit so neatly, that even now he was giving it what it wanted, it was still pushing for more. Now it was whispering of his thoughts of “pruning” and the old man.

‘Speak with him? He’s set himself against me, him and Karl. It’s clear. I don’t think they’ll be coming around. What? You think so?’ Nicolai frowned, and the Mask continued whispering. ‘But what value is there in their opinions?’ The Mask seemed convinced that listening to the views of others, considering them, was important. This struck Nicolai as utterly ridiculous.

‘There’s no time for such things, anyway. I need to get off this bridge, out of the open.’ Nicolai put his words into action, darting off. He was starting to wonder if integrating his Seed had made him less sane, not more.

###

He found the group and avoided talking about the prisoner and to his surprise, they didn’t ask, even Ben keeping quiet. They soon arrived at the new home, all of them worming through the crack, though John struggled.

‘Greetings,’ hissed the painting.

‘Ignore that.’ Nicolai waved them away from it. ‘I’ll explain later.’ He had to jostle some of them into moving as they stopped, staring at the painting.

‘A pitiful group of monkeys wrapped in the grip of a snake.’ It laughed at them and Nicolai gave it a blank stare that cloaked the vicious irritation he felt, trying to think at it, will you burn, painting, if I set you afire? He did his best to push the thoughts through his Soul Sense, and the painting seemed to feel them, quieting down, chuckling to itself.

‘What does it mean?’ Perro asked.

‘It means exactly what it said.’ Old Ben snorted.

‘It’s just trying to spread discord, ignore it.’ Nicolai waved them on. ‘Come on, let’s go, up to the safe place I’ve found for you all,’ he said, implying at great effort and out of the goodness of my heart.

The painting was still chuckling as they filed up the stairs behind him. Nicolai pounded on the door, and within moments he heard Jo’s voice.

‘Nicolai? Is that you?’ She sounded panicked.

‘It’s me.’ His Soul Sense squeezed through the gaps of the door to find her and sense at her emotions. She was in a state. Her sister’s Seed integration was likely quite stressful to watch.

He heard the door unbolting and it swung wide, revealing Jo who wore the same light techno-camouflage as before, mid-length blonde hair in disarray, green eyes wide and terrified. ‘You have to come, you have to come! I don’t know what’s happening to her!’

Nicolai followed after, gesturing to the others. ‘Make yourselves at home!’ He smiled winningly into their uncertain gazes. Jo led him into the room the pair shared, and he closed the door behind him.

Beth was curled up on the bed, cloth twisted around her, letting out an endless little wail of pain and misery, tensing her whole body then jerking, tensing and jerking. The bed itself interested him. There was one of those lightweight, mat-like bedrolls on it, which looked quite comfy, and the sheets and pillow were earth make. Purchases from the Trade Link, he imagined. Sleeping on rags over hard stone wasn’t great for his body, which he wanted to be in perfect condition, so getting such a bed for himself was already a new goal.

‘What’s Kleos say about this?’ he asked Jo, and the head.

‘He says it’s normal, but it doesn’t look normal!’

‘It is normal,’ said Kleos. ‘Her entire body is being Infused. She is growing a Soul. Naturally, it is painful.’

‘It was painful for me,’ Nicolai assured Jo. The girl was kneeling beside her sister with her fists clenched tight, tensed up like a cat after a fright. Nicolai ran his Soul Sense over Beth, seeing what was happening within her. It was interesting to observe. Lines of energy were running through her body, changing her, cleaning out all kinds of filth including one particularly nasty piece of her, the rot that had been slowly consuming her.

He could feel something else shifting and growing within her, radiating from her heart where he found a Node. As it grew, it was pushing him out. It was her Soul, merging with her body. He felt that he could push back, attack that Soul, if he wished, and that right now she was as vulnerable to such methods as she would ever be. But attacking her nascent Soul was unlikely to help her and he saw no benefit to doing so.

‘She’s fine,’ he said. ‘Her body is nearly done. Her Soul is sorting itself out. Give it a few minutes.’

The door opened behind him and a look over his shoulder revealed John and Cait peering inside with uncertain frowns.

‘Get out!’ screamed Jo, jumping to her feet, dashing towards them and pushing them back with the force of her sudden rage, slamming the door in their confused faces.

Nicolai felt quite confused himself, too, but his Mask understood. It explained that she didn’t want people seeing her sister in such a vulnerable state. ‘Shall I leave?’ he asked.

‘No!’ she snapped, throwing herself back into a kneel beside her sister who writhed on the bed.

Nicolai exchanged a glance with Kleos then settled in, leaning against the wall, waiting, watching, his Soul Sense squeezing around the door to keep track of the others.