B3-16 - Sanctuary Nexus (Patreon)

“I mean will any one really care if I steal other SIL’s designs and schematics; then make them myself?” Maya asked Bell.

Bell looked at Maya, an expression of disapproval on his blue face. “Yes.”

“But what if I just use them for myself and not sell them? No harm, no foul, right?”

“No. It’s still wrong.”

“But what if it’s for a good cause, like saving humanity.”

“I do not see how stealing the designs for a hover car will help humanity,” Bell said.

“Transportation.”

“It’s a racing hover car and built for looks and speed.”

“I can.. Uh… reverse engineer the machine and then use that to build a more robust version of it?”

“They sell industrial transports and vehicles also. You can purchase manufacturing rights to those for a tenth the cost per unit.”

“Can’t a girl just have nice things?” Maya asked, she tossed aside the tablet before her.

Asoltolia had sent her some more items she could get from retailers within the Tzonia system. Weapons and armor were only a small aspect of the things that Maya could sell and according to all the grumblings and bemoaning from the people on Earth, they wanted more than just guns and armor… usually.

“Not when it’s corporate money you’re spending. I believe that is called embezzling.”

“No one is being paid a living wage here,” Maya said. “Literally, everything is free and you can take whatever you want.”

“Then you are lucky that theft isn’t a thing you have to worry about,” Bell said. “Any other organizations would have taken advantage of your lack of security, inventory control, and accounting to rob you blind.”

“I just have a good judge of character, is all.”

“Perhaps, but as this corporation grows and it’s technological and industrial base surpasses even some million year old corporations, you’ll have to begin organizing and running it more efficiently.”

Maya groaned. “You’re not the first to tell me that. Maria’s been up my butt about my lack of corporate structuring and hierarchy. She demands we create an HR department to begin vetting people for skills and abilities that we need currently and in the future.”

“She not wrong,” Bell said.

“Whatever, dude. How’s the shipment of goods from your grand mammy coming along?”

Bell sighed. “She has agreed to the order you’ve place and is pleased at the landshark ingredients. We can use them to create some higher grader potions that will sell well to Asoltolia’s people and Earth.”

“The high grade stuff is a waste on humanity,” Maya said. “Sure, it’ll help out a person whose near death, but a mid grade can to that just as easily. Asoltolia’s snapping up the high grades just as fast as she’s snapping up enchantments, but I fear they’re not large enough to absorb all the potions Granny makes.”

“Higher grade potions demand a far higher price than low grade potions,” Bell stated. “We have thousands of low leveled alchemists who are grinding their occupational abilities to level up. But we have also discovered that we can recycle many of those potions and use them to make a mid grade version of the potion.”

“Upcycling?” Maya grinned. “So that’s why there’s a lot more mid and high grades than low grades?”

“As is the case in most well established crafting societies.”

“So Granny is being pissy because we want her junky garbage potions rather than the lovely high priced ones?”

“She is not pissy,” Bell said. “She agreed to your purchase, after all. Also, since we reuse the low grades to produce higher graded potions, it will severely impact our production if we sell off our entire stock of low grade potions.”

“Well, I guess this means we have to find another avenue to sell the potions. Got any ideas?” Maya asked.

“You have access to a device that can cross into every universe and every location,” Bell said.

“I know that. That’s why I’m asking if you have any ideas. Like, y’know, any space faring trading partners or civilizations that aren’t assholes?”

“No. My people rarely dealt with Outsiders. We were willing to trade when traders arrived, but as you’ve seen. We are at war currently.”

“Right, right,” Maya drummed her fingers. “Maybe it’s time we found another civilization to sell stuff to. Things on Earth are going well and we’re in between Sullivan Boxes, the Japanese are hacking up the World Tree, Maria and the others are going to be busy building for the next few days. George is still trying to figure out who’s in charge in America and Yuri still hasn’t found the Hidden Russian Government. The Boxes in Chicago, Tokyo, and Egypt are selling well and the teleporter is working.”

“I believe we are in a lull in the chaotic hopping from one problem to another,” Bell said.

Maya sat there for a moment. “I’m bored,” she said.

“There are over two hundred workers arriving soon,” Bell said. “You should begin making accommodations for them.”

“Oh, shit. Totally forgot about those guys!” Maya hopped to her feet.

***

“Welcome, welcome,” Yosi and Hanna cried as the groups of Ko Sumai workers arrived. They carried bags of clothing, tools, and had the look of people who hadn’t had a vacation in decades. Maya watched behind a one way transparent wall as they gathered within a massive hall that had been built.

“Welcome to the Sullivan Occupational Acceleration Program… or SOAP… Jesus, Maya,” Hanna muttered, her voice echoing through the chamber as she read the welcome speech.

Maya chuckled behind the one way wall.

“Maria Valdez, Chosen Representative of the Manufacturing Settlement of Ko Sumai has vouched for all of you gathered here. It is our hope that by focusing your skills, talents, and abilities into helping mankind, it will greatly accelerate your leveling and occupational abilities,” Yosi said. “As some of you might be aware, time is different with in the Cage. For every hour that passes on Earth twelve hours pass in here. Those gathered here have agreed to the temporary work contract of thirty standard days. This will translate to only three days passing on Earth.”

There was a murmur among the crowd.

“The contract stipulates that you will only be allowed to return to Ko Sumai upon termination of your contract or when the thirty days are over,” Yosi continued. “Actions that will cause a termination of your work contract include committing violence against your fellow associates, refusing work assigned, theft, or political/religious activism for or against any group or nation on Earth.”

“Sounds like a dictatorship,” someone shouted. “We got rights!”

“We need people working, not dickheads sowing discord,” Hanna said.

“Americans and reptile people, who would have thought?” someone else said, their voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I might be level 8 in [Salvager], but I have a degree from Oxford,” a woman said. “I request to be assigned to a managerial position or placed in a profession that is not simple manual labor.”

“Your job placement will be based on your current System recognized occupational abilities,” Yosi said.

“That’s a load of bullshit!” someone cried. “I ran a business before this!”

Bell stood beside Maya as Yosi and Hanna fielded questions and shot down people who demanded more than a simple job.

“This is why you didn’t want to greet them yourselves?” Bell asked.

“Oh, Yosi and Hanna are just the hype-SIL. I’m gonna saunter out with a bit of razzle-dazzle and wow them with my esteemed presence.”

“You haven’t finished the dormitory yet have you?” Bell asked, looking down at the schematics and wireframes of the dorm rooms she had been building for the workers.

“Pssh, a little box with a poop dish and a hose, what’s so hard about building that?” Maya expanded the room schematics, creating a hologram she and Bell could see. “It’s like my first year of college all over again. All it needs is the smell of ramen noodles and body odor.”

“Laundry room, dorm rooms, gathering spots, kitchens, recreational areas, a gym, sauna, combat training rooms, and even a cafeteria to serve all the good Astronaut food they want,” Maya spun the small building around. Prominently on the ‘road’ toward the work areas was a Sullivan’s Coffee and Chocolates store, that literally only sold the two items. “Izumi and Inez have managed to convert some DVDs and other media storage devices onto system tech computers. They’ve brought back Netflix or as I’m calling it in my head, SullivanFlix.”

“Please, don’t call it that,” Bell said.

“VideoStream or Vidster, maybe Flixorama,” Maya shrugged. “We’re building a tiny town full of wonders and magic and security. No one will ever want to leave.”

“How much are you charging for rent, food, oxygen, water, and waste processing?” Bell asked.

“What? I’m charging nothing,” Maya said.

“There are standard rates for station living,” Bell said. “I suppose this Cage could be viewed as a space station.”

“You’ve never even been to space, let alone lived in a space station,” Maya said.

“I’ve read up on it,” Bell replied. “This is one of those areas you could be making credits.”

“Uh, yeah no. No one’s owing their soul to my company store,” she said. “Plus we are getting something better off of these folks than simple credits. We’re getting purified mana, by the boatload.”

“You still haven’t even figured out what to do with that yet. Besides making experience shards,” Bell said cautiously. He looked around as if there were spies or bugs recording his every word.

“Tall tales and ancient theories are all wrong,” Maya muttered. “I can’t warp reality or become god like in my powers.”

“Keep trying,” Bell said.

“Anyway,” Maya turned back to the gathered people.

“Pets?” Hanna cried, clearly exasperated. “You can’t have pets. Didn’t they all just mutate anyway?”

“Yeah, Pico got to the size of a horse,” a man said. “But he’s the same lovable tarantula he’s always been.”

“Gross. No. No spiders! No horse sized spiders. At. All.”

“You’ve already signed the contracts,” Yosi said. “If you wish to resign from this opportunity, then please do so now. The threshold will soon shut and we shall be off to find other parts of humanity to help.”

Silence filled the room as the gathered people looked at one another.

“If you do not wish to resign, then please, this way.” Yosi waved an a door opened.

There were cries of wonder as they passed through the door and into what looked like a quaint neighborhood.

Maya grinned at Bell. “A happy worker is a hard worker.”

***

“Welcome!” Maya cried out as she stood on a small podium. The crowds walking through the door looked at her and then the buildings and then back at her. “Welcome to Sullivan Town!”

Yosi scurried up the podium. “We’re not calling it Sullivan Town, anymore,” she said.

“What? It’s an awesome name, we agreed on it.”

“You agreed on it, but the consensus is that throwing Sullivan in front of everything is going to get old real fast,” Yosi whispered.

“But I made T-shirts…”

“You gave Hanna the position of Worker’s Advocate and Village Head; therefore she has final say over the name and assigning the workers.”

“When did I do that?”

“Yesterday.”

“Was I drunk or busily building something?”

“A bit of both.”

“Okay…” Maya turned back to the crowd that was milling around. Hanna was making her way to the podium, having been stopped for questioning by another person. “Scratch that name. This is Industrial Housing Complex 44B, please step forward to be chipped, stamped, and assigned your housing cubicle, your food paste punch card, and your water ration chips.”

“Damn it, Maya!” Hanna cried, rushing onto the podium. She was breathing heavily as she pushed Maya out of the way. “Ignore everything she said! This is the Village of Sanctuary Nexus, a place of learning, living, and leveling!”

“Oh, Jesus,” Maya muttered.

Hanna beamed at the crowd. “Come forward and we’ll sort you into your houses.”

Maya chuckled. “She’s got the smarts and the pretentiousness of a Ravenclaw.”

“I mean house house, not house house!” Hanna clarified.

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” someone shouted.

***

With a clank and a thunderous boom, the cargo container was set upon the deck of the Cage. Maya held up a gloved hand as wind blasted into the Cage from the open threshold. She peered out into the rainbow sky hellscape and saw things had taken turn for the windy.

“It’s not a fucking hiveship is it?” Maya asked Scotty over her comm.

“Negative,” Scotty responded. His avatar appearing in the HUD of her suit. “Currently there’s some weather phenomenon occurring. It began five hours ago and seems to be intensifying.”

“You gonna be alright?” Maya asked the manufacturing AI.

“The Hanganathorie and the hiveship still have enough structural integrity to survive any storm. I shall be fine.”

“Junior doing okay?”

“The algae is doing fine, although if the weather and temperature keep changing, a change of environment for the algae would be recommended.”

“Right, right. I keep forgetting about the little guy. Bell’s been too busy teaching alchemy and spying that he hasn’t been telling me to ask you about his little buddy.”

Maya took a moment to download Scotty’s logs.

“Well, we’ll check on you in another thirty, buddy,” Maya said. “Keep safe and all that.”

“I shall,” Scotty replied.

The threshold shut and the howling wind ceased. Maya looked back at the twenty people who looked miserable in the sudden cold and wind. They wore shipsuists and had protective coverings on, but the air blasting from the RSH had been colder than Maya thought.

“Sorry, peeps. Just a little chit chat with my bud Scotty,” Maya said as she strode to the container. She hit a button and the metal slid away revealing stacks upon stacks of components in boxes. She walked to another container and hit another button, revealing the exact same thing and then another. Realization began to dawn upon the faces of the people gathered.

“Before you learn to fly, you must swim,” Maya said. “Oh, shit. Was it, before you run, you gotta crawl?” she shrugged and began summoning scanners and testers from her Inventory. “Alright, buddy up people. I need ten groups of two.”

“What are you going to do?” a person asked, obviously not coming to the same conclusion as everyone else.

“You all have been deemed sorters by the Worker’s Advocate and Yosi Sullivan,” Maya said. “So, you’re gonna sort.”

“What are these?” another asked.

“System Tech components. Rogue tech components. Stuff we stripped and haven’t yet figured out what’s in them,” Maya said. Handing out scanners and testers.

“Can’t a machine do this?” someone asked. “I thought we were supposed to be working toward gaining levels and skills.”

“It’s the skillful SIL that can count components,” Maya intoned.

“What does that mean?”

“Before the bear eats the antelope, the sparrow must fly,” Maya continued.

“She’s insane.”

“Through intense meditation and reflection, we’re gonna learn to make some badass monster killing railguns!” Maya cried, summoning one into her hands and firing into the ceiling of the Cage. She was able to absorb the kinetic energy and marsani slug with ease, causing no damage and only looks of horror from everyone.

“Railguns?” someone asked, a look of joy on their face.

“Yup. Everything from tiny, but deadly; to punch the moon in its face kind of railguns. The sound of a Sullivan Big Iron Shooter powering up will be the nightmares of mana mutations!”

“Do we begin now?” another asked, excitement in their voices.

“This a condensed [Weapons Maker]/[Gun Smith] learning experience. After this, you’ll be able to lend a hand in saving mankind. First these components must be sorted,” Maya said.

“Are they used in the railguns?” An awed look formed on many of the gathered.

“No. They’re leftover stuff that was on the Hangy. We just needed to make room and get them sorted so Scotty has the stuff to build more stuff, y’know?”

Everyone looked to Maya.

“Are we…” a man looked to the others in the room. “Are we the remedial class?”