The Daily Grind - Chapter 110 (Patreon)
Content
Holy shit, I actually hit my target of "one a week" this time. *Barely* within the window, but I did it. Yes! Excellent!
Now to do it... again...
Hm.
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Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual.
Section 3-1, Part 5 : Officium Mundi, Life Forms - Stuffed Shirts
Stuffed shirts, also called paper pushers or Dilberts, are not human. This is important. They will appear to be humans wearing business dress, and performing normal office duties, up until you see their faces. The face is always a giveaway - they either have one, and it is instantly recognizable as not being a person, or they do not have one, which has the same effect but in a less unsettling way.
Stuffed shirts drop variable sized yellow orbs, or mid sized green orbs. To date, they are the source of the largest yellows on record (size five). These orbs are unique - see Section 5-1 Part 1 (Yellow Orbs) for details.
The strength of this form of Life is proportional to its orb, and is not standard like much of the other Life in Officium Mundi. Lower threat versions are still capable of throwing armored delvers one-handed, while higher threat variants have been witnessed to snap bone in their grips.
They are known to shift their forms to become quadrupedal, achieving very high speeds and using ramming as a form of attack. Also, be aware that those with faces can remove those faces, deploying them as Masks - see Section 3 Part 3.
Composition is entirely cardstock and shredded paper/dust, including the clothing. Despite having high strength, they are still fully material, and either fire or liquid damage them rapidly. Parts separated from the main body lose rigidity and durability instantly.
Recommended tactics are to engage directly with at least two-to-one odds, and attempt to douse it with water to limit motion. Shooting it in the head also works.
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James looked at the last sentence of the writeup on the Office’s idea of employees, and frowned.
“I feel like ‘and also you can shoot it’ is a little bit obvious.” He muttered. “Do we need that?” He asked, not really addressing anyone else, but leaving the question open to the room.
The room was currently empty. James looked around, wondering when his company had vanished. Secret had been here, for a bit. So had Ganesh at one point, though the little drone was dropping off a report and not actually hanging out. Too, his office had been playing host to a trio of napping camracondas, but they’d also taken off at some point; probably when his furious tapping at the keyboard kept waking them up.
“Anesh!” James called out, spotting his boyfriend walking by through the door, the young dark skinned man standing out as he picked his way carefully through the camracondas strewn throughout the Lair. “Anesh, come help me with something!”
Only stumbling once over someone’s tail, Anesh made his way around the unused front counter and through James’ door. “You rang?” He asked.
“Do you have a minute? I need someone to proofread a thing.” James told him.
Anesh bit his lip. “ I was actually on my way to meet someone.” He said. “What’s the thing?”
“Operations handbook.”
“Ah. Still working on that?” He asked, sympathetic. “Well, I believe in you. You, of anyone, should know what to say about the dungeons.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” James accused him playfully. “What’s your meeting about?”
“Math.” Anesh told him, flatly. “A girl from one of my tutor groups wanted to meet up for some extra study time this afternoon. Offered to pay me in coffee, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that we have dark magic roast on demand.”
James hummed in appreciation. Dark magic roast was exactly the kind of pun he could appreciate. “Wait, hang on.” He held up a hand, brain catching up to the rest of Anesh’s words. “You’re going on a date?”
“What? No!” Anesh protested, reeling back slightly. “I wouldn’t do that to you guys!”
“Anesh…” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not… you can always just *ask*, you know?”
“I did not know, thank you.” Anesh stated, haugtily. “And besides! I know what we have isn’t… isn’t *normal*.” He said, and James heard a waver in boyfriend’s voice that wasn’t usually ever there. “But I like you two. I’m happy with us. I don’t need to date more people. And *besides again*, it’s not a date. It’s math.”
James eyed him with mock suspicion . “Uh huh,”
“Math!” Anesh announced loudly, turning to make his escape, one finger pointed up to the ceiling in defiance as he strode out the door.
James politely waited for Anesh to leave, before pulling his phone out and texting Alanna.
‘Anesh is oblivious to the fact that one of his tutoring friends is flirting with him.’ He sent.
A minute later, the reply came back, ‘adorbs wait how do you know if anesh doesnt?’.
Ignoring Alanna’s flagrant disregard for punctuation, James fired back a reply. ‘I’m astute. Anyway, he got offended when I told him it was okay. Yelled about math.’
‘he does that’. Alanna sent, and then a second later, ‘does he know he can just ask’
‘He does now. I think he’s having self-doubt about our little triangle. We should do something nice for him tonight.’ James hit send, and then, before Alanna could reply, followed up with ‘No not like that you fiend.’
‘well i have a great idea with this toy i bought on… spoilsport’. James grinned, knowing exactly where his message had landed. He set his phone down with a smile, and looked back at his work on the handbook with renewed vitality. With a persistent feeling of warm comfort in his chest, he started typing again. He got through writing the words ‘section six’ when his phone buzzed again.
‘hey if anesh is not-dating someone hes tutoring we should start calling him senpai’
James roared laughter into his keyboard.
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Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual.
Section 5-1, Part 4 : Officium Mundi, Treasures - Orange Orbs
Orange orbs, as their primary use (breaking) provide legal status. Correlation between size and effect appears to be the number of employees in the office that handles the given certification - I.E., the more people employed by a bureaucracy, the larger an orb would be required to affect it.
It is important to note that legal status is not the same thing as actual ability. A pilot’s license does not teach you to fly a plane.
Absorbing an orange orb generates a task that can be repeated after a set cooldown period. The completion of the task generates a material reward. It does not appear that tasks can be removed once absorbed. Too, we do not understand why a certain amount of time spent inside Officium Mundi is required before absorption is possible, but it is theorized that after enough time, additional absorptions will be possible.
As far as can be determined, the matter is created from nothing, making this one of several options for defeating entropy on a longer timeline.
Officium Mundi utilizes the totem form of the orange orb to create spatial warps. For a full list of non-normal spaces encountered, see Section 6 Part 4 (Hazards, Spatial).
*Experimenting with orange totems is both not recommended, and actually forbidden by Order authority.*
Some dungeon Life will also drop orange orbs. These are exclusively ones that contain compact spaces within themselves. For more details, see Section 3 Part 7 (The Copier) and Part 10 (Tapir).
A full list of acquired licenses and tasks is as follows...
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James groaned and stretched himself backward in his chair like an oversized cat. He’d been at this for four hours so far today, mostly collating and copying records that they’d all kept of their orb gains.
It turned out, Anesh had switched systems at some point. And also some of the delver teams used their own spreadsheets, or, in one frustrating case, notebook. And also there were just some things that James absolutely remembered being real, but weren’t written down anywhere; or were written on note cards that were probably going to fall out of some D&D manual when he picked it up a year from now.
It was frustrating, is the point. But he’d finally finished most of it.
The operations handbook was really kind of a misnomer. It was meant to be a lot more than that; a reference book, yes, and a survival guide, and also a little bit actually about the operations protocols of the order. But also, a database of orbs, effects, items, and creatures. And also on top of that, a piece of culture. A look into the guiding principles and day to day rituals that were beginning to form the skeleton of their organization, and also a compilation of individual members and their important achievements and events. The kind of thing that was a door into their community, suitable for neophytes and veterans alike.
It would never be a physical product, most likely. Well, except for maybe the base reference material. But that was fine. Tablets existed for a reason. Or better yet, as their skulljack knowledge grew, maybe they could just stick it onto their phones, and have constant bluetooth access to it.
James made a mental note that he really had to tackle the chapter on skulljack protocol before going home.
The whole thing was a pretty important step for the fledgling organization. It represented the crystallization of thoughts into actionable plans, and written traditions. It was also *infuriating* to write. And writing it had, somehow, fallen entirely on James’ shoulders. Probably because it was his idea and pet project, and he didn’t really think anyone else had the same kind of comprehensive knowledge of things that he did; so, in fairness, it was his own damn fault.
But still…
“Hey Reed!” He called out, flagging down the younger member of the research team. They still weren’t off the hook for accidentally making a god, incidentally, which mostly meant that James was making them jump at random tasks just to keep them on their toes, and disrupt any other potential end-of-world scenarios cropping up in the basement.
“Yeah?” The curly haired, far-too-tall kid stopped awkwardly in the doorway, trying to approach to a polite distance, but also not wanting to step over the camraconda curled up on the threshold.
James ignored the faux pas. Or, more accurately, didn’t notice or care about it. “I need your opinion on something.” He started to say, intending to ask about skulljack interactions and how best to bullet point them, but the end of his sentence opened an unfortunate hole in the conversation.
“Is it about Star Wars? Because I saw the new Star Wars, and I have *opinions* on it.” Reed answered so smoothly that it made James blink. Either he’d rehearsed that line ahead of time, he was some kind of witty mastermind, or he really legitimately was just looking to talk about Star Wars.
James couldn’t risk roughly half those options. “I no longer require your opinion.” He informed Reed politely, but firmly.
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Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual.
Section 6, Part 1 : Extranormal Capabilities - Skulljacks
The skulljack is currently the most powerful tool the Order possesses.
This statement is made to give you an idea of the level of impact that it can make on human society at large, and not to make you think it is a weapon. It is a weapon, but it is also a lot of other things as well, and it would do us well to not forget the cultural warping force we have on our hands. If this opening statement seems less dry than the others, it is to impress on you the point that *this is not a toy*. Even though one of the other things it is, in addition to being a weapon, is to be a fantastic toy.
Skulljacks are a near-perfect interface for the human mind. Physically, they are an ethernet port formed organically of cartilage and nerve endings, located on the back of the neck. They are self-sealing against water damage, and if damaged, parts of them such as the clip can regrow over time.
A skulljack is a vector for its own transmission. If a working data transmitter - ethernet cable, usually - is plugged into a working skulljack, and the free end is brought near the correct spot on another life form, a corresponding skulljack will form on the target in about fifteen seconds. The process is painless, and harmless.
This is both a problem and an opportunity. Long term, skulljacks *will* be ubiquitous among the population of Earth, assuming we don’t all die. Short term, it means that those looking to exploit the technology have an untraceable, impossibly invasive way to do so. If you are a member of the Order, then your job is to mitigate this problem as much as possible. Consider this one of our prime directives - dungeontech is going to save us all, if we can keep it from killing us first.
Skulljacks have, functionally, a single capability. They allow transmission of data using modern ethernet protocols. This data can take the form of commands to digital devices, the reading of information off digital storage, the sharing of organic memories or emotions with other skulljack users, the creation of a gestalt mind out of two or more skulljack users working in concert, or the total domination and slaving of another mind to a given task.
Digital transmission allows for a user to take control of, in the modern age, practically any electronic. Due to the fact that we can purchase, or design, adaptors for just about any protocol, it is possible to interface with anything from a PC to a bluetooth speaker to a flatscreen TV to some cars. On delves, this is used predominantly to command drones for scouting purposes. Exploration of this capability is ongoing, but with minor training, most users can reliably take near total control of the command structure of a given device, including receiving and processing data from inputs such as cameras, timers, or anything else installed. Expert users can write code at a rate above professional humans.
The sharing of memories is considered to be incredibly personal, and equally useful. Memory sharing actually takes more control than gestalt formation when connected to another human without a buffer, so it is advised that if new users are sharing memories for the purposes of information gathering, they use secondary medium. Visual or audio data can be streamed directly to screens or speakers, and spatial perceptions of an area can with practice be packaged and stored on a hard drive to later be copied by others.
Gestalt minds are singular individuals composed of multiple personalities. There are two ways this can function; either one personality is dominant, and the others are turned into organic hardware, or the personalities work together to create something consenting and functional. Attached bodies are controlled by the combined mind with no issues, especially if the primary personality for that body is allowed direct influence.
The formation of a gestalt is useful for several things, but is a one hundred percent intimate experience. Whomever is involved in a gestalt will, without question, know literally everything about the other(s). The formation of a consenting gestalt requires trust on the parts of the users, otherwise one personality may reflexively attempt dominance.
Combat while in a gestalt allows for impressive teamwork, but does require training to properly coordinate. The severing of the connection mid-gestalt is also very painful, and could be a liability.
Gestalts also share all orb effects of the sublimated personalities across every attached body.
Note - while slaved to the gestalt created by Conference (See Section 3-1, Part 9 - Conference) human minds were used to suppress the activities of the controlling intelligence of Officium Mundi. This indicates potential human ability beyond the capabilities of the dungeontech, as so far, the skulljacks have not shown any ability beyond simply a very powerful, low-latency connection.
Contacts in the Order Directory tagged with ‘DFP’ are experts on the subject, and are open to contact.
Skulljack hardware is currently in development with the end goal of creating specialized devices for personal security, and safe life-to-life connection. At present, the Order is in possession of sixteen wireless connectors, and two experimental firewall firmware mounts. The former may be requisitioned through your team leader. The latter are in development, and not available.
Skulljacks are not to be spread outside the Order without approval. This is important. We need to have proper security features ready to roll out before we start, or else risk turning the majority of humanity into slaved puppets. This isn’t about keeping some secret or conspiracy (See Section 1, Part 2 - We Are Not A Conspiracy) this is about keeping humanity safe from bad faith actors until we have failsafes in place.
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James felt like he was going to have to rearrange a lot of that. Find some way to section it in a way that made the flow work better. Ugh. Editing. He should hire an editor. Could he do that? He wouldn’t even have to induct them as a delver, just tell them it was for an RPG setting or something. That was an idea. Another idea was that he should get something to eat, he thought as his stomach rumbled. It was well past normal human lunchtime, and his habit of ignoring breakfast was biting him in the ass.
“Do you wanna go get a sandwich?” James asked the camraconda that was somehow managing to relax in the chair that sat across from James’ desk. James had been meaning to actually get comfortable chairs for a while - something plush, but that you didn’t quite sink into; a noble style of chair, that may or may not actually exist - but his life recently had been basically nonstop working on dungeon stuff, and the little details tended to slip through the cracks. “There’s a place down the street that closes early, but they’re open for another hour or so. They make great meatball subs, and I want one.” James continued.
The camraconda in question was the ‘elder’ of the tower. Technically, most of them were the same age. They didn’t really remember their creation that much, but they had a fairly coherent idea that they were put together around the same time. But once in the tower, and beyond the influence range of their puppeteer, freed to be real people, they had started to emotionally mature at different rates.
This one had been the one to lead the fight against the defectors. He had killed his own siblings to keep them from revealing their home to the dungeon. It was, by all accounts, not a pleasant memory at all, and it had left him feeling like he was forced into a role of responsibility and growth well before he was ready for it. A leader who didn’t ask for the job, but knew he couldn’t just give it up.
James empathized.
So he - the camraconda had chosen male pronouns when asked - had been the one to take a risk on James. He had led his people out into the world, and that risk had so far paid off. He was also sort of the camraconda’s liaison with the Order.
Within about ten minutes of everyone arriving back, it had become an issue that the camraconda’s couldn’t speak. While everyone else was trying different solutions, Virgil of all people had taken the initiative, grabbed a couple of volunteer snakes, installed skulljacks in them, and whipped up an invention that was part scarf, part speaker system. It was a cobbled together mess, but it let the changed camraconda’s use basic text-to-speech to start to communicate.
Of course, this created a massive cascade of problems, like how you taught a snake that had a *concept* of language, but no actual spoken language, English. Or how to deal with the ones that were so terrified or repulsed by dungeontech that they refused the upgrade. But they were working on it. And the camraconda’s were *very* fast learners.
“Apologize.” The elder camraconda spoke to James in a mechanical voice. His words were starting to take on a personal touch as he gained more control of his voice; a little deeper, a little more optimistic. But for now, it was just a dull digital monotone. “Outside not safe?” The words were a question, and not a hard one to decipher, despite the still-in-progress language lessons. It turned out that having an instantly indexable dictionary on a hard drive plugged into your brain made it easy to pass for conversational.
“Outside’s probably perfectly safe.” James said with a sigh. “There’s a bit of a disagreement about how much we should reveal to the world right now. About you guys, yeah, but also about everything else. But I’m kind of in charge, and personally, I’m in the camp that no one is ever going to get used to having technorganic basilisks around if you don’t expose them to technorganic basilisks.”
James was reasonably sure that the snake didn’t have eyebrows to raise. He knew this, actually, because he was looking at it. But *somehow*, he still felt like he was being judged as the elder’s eye camera lensed on him.
“I think, not game.” The elder said, laying his head back on his coils of cable on the chair. “My people, take time also.”
They’d known each other for under a week, and the two of them were already on the same wavelength. Even through the language barrier, James felt like the elder understood him, and he understood in turn.
And in this case, he understood the sentiment, because he felt it too. James was perfectly willing to risk exposing *himself* as a wizard, but if someone asked him for a list of names and addresses for the rest of the Order, he’d probably shoot first and ask questions later. Too, the elder would be totally okay walking (slithering?) around out under broad daylight, if not for the fact that there were thirty five other camracondas under his care that he didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to.
“Oh hey.” James changed the subject, really trying very hard to find a reason to not keep typing up the operations manual. “Did you hear one of your young ones chose a name?”
That was a bit of a strange event for everyone. They’d all kind of assumed that the camracondas had developed or chosen names during their time in the tower, but it turned out, that just wasn’t a thing for them. Their micro-culture just never came up with the idea. But now that they were out in the wider world, many of them had taken to the thought eagerly. Though only one had picked her name so far.
“Frequency-Of-Sunlight. Yes.” The elder perked up again, laying his head lightly on the edge of the chair as he spoke to James. “She watches sunsets.”
It was such a simple thing, but both of them sat there for a minute, just appreciating. Being proud of an artificial, weaponized life form that had found beauty in the sun she finally got to see.
“I should try to call my mom again.” James sighed out, wistfully. “Ask her why I didn’t get a name that cool.” He gave a joking huff as he asked, “What kind of name is ‘James’ for an adventurer, anyway? Maybe she’ll actually answer the phone this time.”
“You name confuses.” The elder spoke, and it sounded like he was trying to convey amusement in his tone. “Some choose name. Some receive name. Gifts?” He asked. “El and Momo say names special. They chose. Harvey also say. His name ancient gift. Different reasons for specialty.”
James tried to explain names for a good twenty minutes, before he got tired of saying the phrase “from a certain cultural viewpoint” and just called Sarah to come in and take over for him. The moment that he had really conceded that he wasn’t good at this was when he’d realized that the camracondas didn’t have a great grasp on what ‘parents’ were.
It wasn’t giving up. It was that he still had another twelve chapters to write.
His parents never did call him back to explain his name.
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Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual.
Section 1, Part 4 - Ethics
As mentioned in our mission statement, the goal of the Order is to improve long term quality of life for as many people as possible by eliminating systemic problems, and creating new systems that enhance daily living.
This presents a number of problems, as our increased power compared to a baseline human puts us at sometimes absurd advantages, and can often create novel situations where there aren’t easy answers.
These are a few guidelines to keep in mind, moving forward. They are not hard rules, merely things to consider. Violating one or more of these by accident or in crisis is not grounds for exile.
However, while we acknowledge that mistakes and panic situations happen, we also understand that those are not always excuses. Failure to consider the ethics of situations, or failure to learn from past errors, is grounds for dismissal from the Order, and all that entails.
There are very few things we outright forbid. But there’s a world of grey areas out there, and we aren’t writing policy until we understand better. We’re all going to make mistakes, so we should all learn together.
_
Creation of Life : With the acquisition of yellow, purple, and possibly red orbs, the ability to shape life forms to our needs arises. This is both a blessing, and a burden. You might get a creation like those you’ve seen paired with other delvers; Pendragon, or Ganesh perhaps. Helpful, friendly. Dangerous, yes, but not to those they care about. But without proper care, you may just as easily get something instantly hostile, and very threatening.
Similarly, it may be a problem on the axis of power. You may create something that is unstable, and while benevolent, is fated to die under the weight of its own ability.
A general ground rule to follow here is to be careful, and be responsible. If you create a life, that is now your life to take care of. Similar rules to raising a child or pet should apply; you take responsibility for the care and feeding of the life, for their education and emotional development. It is for this reason it is not advised to make life purely to be a weapon.
Tampering with free will : While this may seem like an obvious ‘no’, there are several areas where things get complicated. For an example; we have the capacity to block certain memories. Should we use this to preserve our secrecy, if that is to the benefit of others? This is a hard question to answer, because for most people, it’s still ‘no’, and that is an okay stance to take.
But there will be times where we may be in a position to make a choice on behalf of another person. Whether that is through eliminating memories that may be traumatic to them, or puppeting their actions through a skulljack to save their life, there can be no hard rule that might prevent us from working to help others.
Instead, the only rule here is that you operate in good faith. There is, again, no policy to skirt around, no loopholes to find. Simply act with the best interests of others in mind, and never use these options to exploit anyone, and you’ll be on stable ground. Even if sometimes the costs to our doubts is high.
Sharing of dungeontech : Your payouts in orbs, items, and other upgrades are yours to do with as you choose. Sometimes you may choose to share these with other people.
There is no rule against this, just be aware that not everyone is mentally equipped to deal with the unknown in this way. Ask questions of them first. These questions can be blatantly suspicious from our perspective, because from anyone else's' perspective, they will be meaningless and silly. Try not to share dungeontech with anyone it would impact more negatively than the benefit of a couple skill ranks.
(For more information on the sharing of skulljacks, see Section 6, Part 1.)
Killing, and other acts of violence : While not a signatory of the Geneva Conventions, assume at all times that the Order operates under similar auspices. Proper treatment of prisoners, no involvement of civilians or uninitiated in combat, and no use of wide scale indiscriminate weapons.
Similarly, killing should be reserved for self-defense in combat. We are not assassins, and no matter what the political realities of our world are, picking off singular individuals who cause problems only incentivizes the next monster to hire more bodyguards. For both practical and moral reasons, the killing of priority targets is to be used only as a last resort in the event that they represent an immediate extant threat to a population.
Secrecy : Any action that makes us more known to the public, or to government or private agencies, is a risk. These risks must be measured and judged before taking serious actions in public, or around uninitiated individuals.
Consider who you’re with. Consider how much of the veil you’re lifting back. And most importantly, consider if your actions will lead to direct repercussions against our Order.
But also, never forget that we have a chosen duty to help. And if your choice, especially in a crisis, is between secrecy and helping someone, never pick secrecy.
(See Section 1, Part 2 - We Are Not A Conspiracy)
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James’ phone rang, startling him out of his glassy eyed stare at the index he was still trying to figure out if he wanted to reformat *again*. He jumped a little, awkwardly brushing away crumbs of the hamburger he’d demolished off the desk as he picked up his cell phone and checked the caller ID. It was Lua, which was strange. There was no scheduled check in for another two days, which meant… nothing good, that James could think of.
“Hey Lua. What’s up?” James opened with.
The woman spoke, and James *instantly* felt himself tense up at her tone. “Something’s wrong.” She said, urgency lacing her voice. “There’s agents here.”
James checked the clock. Almost 3 PM. And it was a Friday. The high school was just getting out, students would be moving around, and the dungeon might be active and hunting. Lua was almost stumbling to get her words out, so whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.
“Agents?” James asked, already kicking his chair back and pocketing his keys. The elder camraconda watching him from his claimed napping point with curious worry. “Agents from which dungeon?”
“No, *human agents*.” The therapist hissed out in a whisper. “They’re asking questions about students, but *not the missing students*. They picked up the schedules and personal files for those three kids I told you about. But there’s something wrong with them. The glasses I have don’t show *any* affiliations, but they’re telling people…”
There was a sudden stop in the words. James felt his heart leap into his chest as he heard a knocking sound on the other end of the phone. “We need to go.” He told the elder. “We have to move, now. *Hey!*” James rushed out his office door and shouted out into the Lair. “Full mobilization! We need to move! Problems! Who’s here?!” He demanded.
On the other end of the phone he was still holding to his ear, he heard the sound quality change dramatically as Lua flicked it to speaker, presumably muting him as well, but he shut up just in case. “Come in!” He heard, slightly muffled. She’d stuck the phone under something, maybe? “Oh, hello officer.” She said politely, though James heard the strain in her voice.
“We aren’t law enforcement, ma’am.” James heard a thick male voice say. “Though we are going to need you to come with us. We have some questions.”
James caught Nate’s eye as the chef rushed out to the main room, and mimed a gun at the other man. Nate nodded, and booked it for the elevator to the basement. “Get Momo and El!” James mouthed at him, holding his hand over the phone’s speaker.
“...going on?” James heard from the other end. “Is someone in trouble?” Lua was asking. James heard her standing up, shuffling stuff around. “Just let me grab my…”
There was a sudden yelp of pain, and then a third voice. “No.” The man’s voice said, blunt and cruel. “Three. Bring her to the car. Two, search the office. If there’s relics here, or if she contacted anyone, have Three kill her. Four, you’re with me. Find the primary targets and…”
James desperately wanted to know what they were saying, but something had jumped out at him. They could, absolutely, *not know* that Lua had called him. So he hung up, fast as he could. A second later he realized they could search her phone logs, but this at least bought him scant time.
There were a few camracondas up here, looking around nervously as James shouted orders. Harvey and Simon had also come out from the back kitchen, and were starting to ask James what was going on, just as the elevator doors dinged open again and Nate sprinted out, black plastic cases in his hands.
“Field operative under attack.” James snapped out sharply. “Humans. Maybe a rival organization.” His phone was already up again, dialing Alanna. “Alanna!” He barked down the line, cutting off her friendly greeting. “No time! High school! Go! We’ll meet you there; enemy humans!” He yelled.
Frantically, James looked around. Momo was here, following Nate, but this was the extent of his forces right now. He didn’t know what to do. How was he supposed to retake control of the situation?
Harvey stepped forward, and clapped a hand on James’ shoulder. “Get moving!” The older man said, calmly. “I’ll get the word out. Momo will keep us updated on location. Go!”
James gave him a look of pure relief. “Yeah!” He said, nodding. “Okay. Make sure you tell Dave. Pendragon is our biggest weapon right now.” James looked around. “Nate, Simon, you’re with me. Um…” He glanced at the camraconda elder, who was now perched at attention nearby, with one other snake flanking him. “Do you…”
They nodded in unison.
“Okay. Elder, you’re with us. Momo, you and Frequency are our backup. Follow behind, if things get lethal, *run*. If they get weird, step in and tilt the weirdness.” James tool one of the cases from Nate, striding in long steps toward the door. He didn’t have time for armor; seconds could count here. As he walked, he grabbed his coat off the hook by the door, and checked the shoulder holster for the comforting grip of his sidearm. As he kicked the door open and held it for the others to start jogging to the cars, Harvey approached him, phone in hand and determination on his face.
The other man was digging in his pocket, and a second later, he pulled out and tossed James a blue orb. With a solemn nod he turned and started a rapid fire explanation to whoever he’d called.
James didn’t waste time. He absorbed the orb without thinking, and then turned and ran for his car.
[+6 Activations : Attach]
He didn’t have time to think about ways to use that until he’d already hit the gas, tearing out of the parking lot and nearly bottoming out his car on the incline that led to the main road. Behind him, Momo drove much more conservatively, while James just flagrantly ignored traffic laws and put the pedal down.
A nineteen ninety six Subaru Outback was, all things considered, not exactly the car he wanted to be driving into battle. It was *obviously* not what Nate wanted to be sitting in the front seat of. In the back, Simon had simply folded the seats down, and he and the elder lay mostly prone in the trunk, alongside the limited armory they’d brought with them. The thing was, though, when you were driving through semi-residential areas where the speed limit was thirty, and you didn’t bother to hold back from coaxing the car up to a hundred miles an hour, it didn’t much matter that you weren’t in a sports car.
James grit his teeth as he sped through an intersection, narrowly dodging cross traffic, and almost certainly causing a collision in his wake. In his pocket, his phone hadn’t stopped buzzing the entire time, and in the distance he could hear sirens.
But right now, there was only one way forward.
There was an enemy on the board, and they were threatening a member of the Order. No question what they were heading into now.
____
Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual.
Section 1, Part 3 - You Are Not Expendable.
One more short personal conversation before we get into the procedures, lists, and analytical looks at threats and treasures. This one isn’t that long, don’t worry.
You, you reading this, as a member of the Order of Endless Rooms, are not expendable.
This is a coin with two sides. On one side, if you are *ever* in trouble, we are here to support you. If you need money or resources, if you need help for your family or loved ones, if you need reliable transportation, if you need to be bailed out of jail, if you need to be bailed out of life threatening danger, if you need *anything*, we will do everything we can to keep you safe.
There is a protocol to this, but it’s a simple one. Escalate problems to your team leader, and in turn, if you are the one who’s had the problem escalated to you and can’t handle it, bump it up to Order logistics or leadership.
This ties into the reverse of that coin.
All of us have a responsibility to each other. If your friends or companions are in trouble, it’s up to us, as a group, to help. This is, functionally, the sort of thing that seems either very obvious for a functioning society, or very obvious for a functioning cult. Being perfectly honest, we’re somewhere in between the two.
We have no interest in forcing cooperation, nor are we going to mandate that you spend a certain amount of your time or resources on this. This is just a statement; none of us in the core group are ever going to treat you like you’re expendable, and we want you to know that, and hopefully share that vision.
You aren’t pawns to be sacrificed in some play for power. You aren’t tools, or weapons, or toys. Even if we fill those roles, none of us are ever *anything* less than a person. So if you need us, we’re there for you. No matter who it puts us at odds with, or how inconvenient it is, or what the cost.
We will, almost certainly, lose people eventually. It’s a tragedy none of us are looking forward to. But if it happens, we refuse to let it happen because we treated anyone in our Order like they weren’t important. Like they weren’t a life worth holding onto. Like they weren’t valued and loved and part of what makes us feel like we can improve the world in the first place.
So whether you’re natural born or a created lifeform, an infomorph or a clone, or anything else we run into eventually, know this, above all else.
You are not, ever, expendable.