The Daily Grind - Chapter 270 (Patreon)

“When someone's path through this world is marked with acts of cruelty, they have failed the first test of an advanced society. They never forced their animal brain to evolve past its first instinct. They never forged new mental pathways to overcome their own instinctual fears. And so, their thinking and problem-solving will lack the imagination and creativity that the kindest people have in spades” -J.B. Pritzker, commencement speech to Northwestern University-

_____

“Mmmmmmh.”  Zhu’s noise of contentment as James walked them through the loading dock of the Lair and into the briefing warehouse was long and a little bit unsettling.  “It is nice to be back.  The end of a long trip.”

”We were gone for a week.  And then one night after that.”  James reminded his friend as Zhu’s tail clipped the railing of the big shutter door, threatening to pull him off balance as the navigator writhed enthusiastically.  He’d gotten back, and gotten about ten hours adjusted for his apartment’s magic to shower, check some updates to make sure he wasn’t needed, and sleep in a real bed before coming in to the Lair.  “That’s hardly a long trip.  Though, thinking about it, I suppose that these delves are kinda the longest we’ve been away from home together, huh?  I never really asked, but is it the trip itself or the ‘end’ that’s like food for you?”

Zhu fluttered his glowing feathers, false dust drifting away before fading out.  “Neither.  Both?  I think it’s less like food and more like spare parts, maybe.  Bits of me that I can use to fix things up or add on to myself.  Not on purpose, though, it just happens.”

”Weird.”

”Oh fuck off, your body has multiple different overlapping systems for moving air around because you die without exposure to your favorite gas.”

James snickered as he passed through the bustling space, seeing that the Order was already making preparations for another long delve now that they’d started to feel out just how threatening things could get.  “Touche.”  He admitted to Zhu. “We’re all addicted to that sweet sweet oxygen.  Anyway I’m mostly asking because… you know.  Your current condition.”

”I’m tired.”  Zhu’s voice softened as he murmured through his manifested eye on James’ shoulder.  “I don’t even feel it happening.  I’m just… so tired.  But it’s less draining to force myself awake than to manifest again.  And it’s only sometimes.  I get bursts of energy and it would be stupid to waste them.”

”I’m sorry.”  James whispered as they passed by a group looking over a map of Missouri.  Briefly James considered the political implications of nuking an entire state just to kill the thing that was still hurting his friend, but he knew he’d never seriously entertain the idea.  Part of the reason his friends were his friends at all was that they wouldn’t want him committing mass murder on their behalf.  It was a pretty low bar to clear, but James was one of the people who did recruitment interviews for the Order sometimes, so he was keenly aware that it was still a real obstacle to some people.  “I really am sorry.  I don’t even know what to do to help, aside from get you to test out all the purples we picked up, just in case one does it.”

Zhu laughed, tightening up his feathers as he reclaimed some dignified poise.  “I’ll have more superpowers than you by the end of that.”  He joked.  “And if not, at least we’ll figure out if navigators have loot drops, right?”

”…don’t do that.”  A wet heat built up in the corners of James’ eyes to match the emotional heat of the sudden anger he felt.  “Don’t.”  He cut off whatever Zhu was planning to say.  “I don’t want to consider it, okay?  We’ll… we’ll talk about it if we have to.  But let’s try actually keeping you alive first.”

”Well now I’m sorry.”  Zhu rumbled.  “How come I’m both dying, and the asshole about dying?  That’s not fair.”

The words took James back into the easy flow of banter, without the same painful sting.  ”You started it.”

”Actually Harlan started it, if you think about it.  Let’s find Harlan and cut their break lines.” Zhu suggested maliciously, though perhaps not undeservedly.

”I’m pretty sure that’s on the list of things I’m here to do today.”  James nodded.

”It is not.”  A rustling paper voice said from inside a desk drawer as James and Zhu passed by, getting a shocked screech from Zhu and a perfectly dignified scream from James.  “Apologies.”  Planner didn’t sound the least bit sorry as one of their long tentacles covered in eyes extended from the shadowy part of the desk that was currently covered in what looked like someone’s craft project.  “James, you are going to be late to your appointment.”

James held a hand to his chest, feeling weirdly vulnerable to be wearing just a teeshirt on the warm spring day after a whole week living in his armor.  ”I am now!”  He retaliated against the infomorph.  “Planner we’ve talked about this!”

”You have talked about this.  I have found this to be an effective form of motivation.”

”I’m going to pencil in random meetings and then no-show all of them if you keep this up.”  James threatened.

”You will try to no-show.”  Planner retorted, their ethereal form pulling back as their voice faded out along with them.  “Now get moving.”

James was still grumbling to himself as he left the back room, nodded a greeting to the two people manning the front desk today, and headed to the elevator.  His increasingly creative ideas for getting revenge on Planner building a slow burn of humor in Zhu, who was shaking in small laughs against James’ side.

He was so caught up in wondering if he should maybe not actually mess with their most powerful defender that he was caught off guard when El planted herself next to him, leaning sideways to examine him and declaring that “You look like shit.”

”Oh.  Thanks, you too.”  James nodded before he fully caught up to what she’d said.  “Wait.  No, don’t wait, I stand by what I said.”

”Excuse me!  I look stylish!  Look, eyeliner!”  El swept a hand across her face.  “You look like you just had a heart attack.”

”Oh!  Yeah, Planner.”  James explained, giving El’s infomorph kid a grin as the little fish ghost thing poked out of her bangs.  Across his side, he felt Zhu twitching like the navigator was preparing to bolt off, which got a snort of amusement from James.  “Zhu, you don’t have a meeting to go to, you can go play with your friend.”

Zhu froze for a second, rippling against James.  “Oh right!  I’m not a responsible adult!  I forget sometimes since I’m part you.”  The navigator peeled away from James, forming into a rough spear of orange light.  “Hey Speaky!”

El’s infomorph darted out abruptly, one fanged fin flicking upward to tap Zhu on the edge of his projection.  “Tag!”  The little toothy fish declared, before twisting in the air and darting away, Zhu in hot pursuit of his friend.

”…Okay yeah be safe or some shit!”  El yelled after her kid.  “You’re a bad influence.”  She grumbled when it was just her and James waiting for the elevator left.

”Me?!”

”Oh, nah, I’m talking to myself.  Hey, how was the dungeon?”

”Not bad, not bad.  Missed Momo on it, honestly.  Since Nik’s been smarter about stuff we don’t really have a designated bad idea person, you know?  I need someone to poke the dangerous things for me.”  James shrugged.  “But we’ll have other chances.  How’s she doing?”

El’s mouth twitched into a slight frown for a brief second.  “She’s… grumpy.”  She idly scratched the side of her neck. “You’ve met Momo.  She’d fucking love to live in a dank basement her whole life, right up until the exact moment she has to stay in bed, and then she’ll demand sunshine and shit.”

“Deb did say she’d make a full recovery.”

“Man you let her get hit with a fucking cannonball.”  El sighed. “I’m kinda freaked out that she isn’t just dead.”  James opened his mouth to say something, but El beat him to it.  “I’m not saying you should stop dungeoneering or something stupid like that.  I live here, come on.  And it’s not like I could stop Momo from aggressively flirting with danger without her breaking up with me anyway.  But like…”

She trailed off and James picked up the tenuous statement.  “But dungeons are dangerous.”  He said softly.  “We’ve got people in the hospital downstairs missing teeth and eating through a tube who would have just been fucking dead without purple orbs.  This shit is risky, and we need to be more careful, especially if we’re going to be making a habit of it.”  He considered shrugging, but held back, not wanting his acknowledgment to seem too casual.

El grunted majestically.  “Yeah, I keep getting invited to all the new week-long excursions.  But I’ve got kids to wrangle now.”

There was a temptation for James to tell El they were going to invite her to be a full time teacher at the school they were planning to open.  That her work with the Order’s youth groups, helping acclimate human kids to living with other forms of life, and giving the emotionally and intellectually less mature ratroaches, camracondas, and stuff animals a place to learn and grow on their own terms, was actually hugely valuable, and hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The temptation was born of the perverse glee James took in inflicting on others the responsibility that had been foist upon him.  Though that was kind of unfair; he could have said no at any time. Maybe even should have.  But it always felt more important to step up than step back, like it mattered in a way that was bigger than his own life, his own comfort.

Thing was, though, he kinda had a feel for how El was doing as a person.  The way she’d been changed by her time here, both obviously and in more subtle ways.  And James was pretty sure she wouldn’t say no either.  Not for the same reasons as him, hell no.  El wasn’t nearly so self-sacrificing.  But she’d been tricked into giving a shit about people, and James was confident that she wouldn’t want to fail them now.

She’d still complain though, when the time came.  That was fine.  Every single person in the Order had fucking earned the right to winge to their heart’s content.  But James didn’t want to spoil it early, so he just went with “Yeah, that seems fun.  I’ve seen your crew playing… sport?… out back.  Some sport.”

”Pluralist Ball.”  El’s eyes shone as she grinned, the smile utterly changing her face from its usual subconscious half-scowl.  “Honestly very cool shit.  Most kids are bad at making rules for it, but it’s just fucking neat to throw them all together and let them play.  The rats especially.  They abstractly know what play is, but never got to do it, and they… they just…” El’s voice cracked and she looked away, flicking a pair of fingers across the corner of her eye.  “It’s cool though.  Especially since our back lot is a fucked up obstacle course now?  Oh, I need a budget for pool noodles. That reminds me.”

”Done.”  James handed her two thousand dollars, which El took on reflex and then stared at uncomprehending.  “For the edges I’m assuming?  That’s cool.  I’ll appreciate that when Nate puts me through my paces there again.  I’m almost to being able to drop two squads at once.”

”…why do you have this?”

”It’s the panic casting.”  James answered a question El hadn’t even come close to asking.  “I finally got some spells down to reflexes, and now I have to undo that.  Real pain in the ass.  Also can’t do it too often because there’s a limit on spare charges on the squo gear.”

El held up the roll of bills.  “Why the hell do you just have this.”

”Anyway, it’s been good talking to you, but I do actually need to get upstairs, and I’m not sure why we’re still waiting here.”  James looked up at the floor indicator for the elevator.

”I’ll tell you if you tell me where the cash came from.”

”Dungeon stuff.”  James relented with a laugh.  “Also can you keep an eye on Zhu today while I’m busy?  I’m worried about him”

”Yeah, of course.”  El answered instantly, even if she sounded a little irate.  Then she leaned forward and slapped the call button for the elevator.  “Have fun at your meeting.”  She said with a wolfish grin.

James didn’t have a good retort to that.

_____

The first important thing James had to deal with - which he wasn’t late for, and now suspected Planner had lied about the timing of to motivate him - was partly a security briefing, and partly about the nature of how they were going to be doing security briefings from now on.

“If you want more paladins,” Nate opened by telling him, “then you need some structure.  Actual requirements to keep up on training and intelligence.”

James nodded, taking a seat opposite Nate at their conference table.  They were the only two people here, high over a different city, with a nice morning view of the highways already ruining everything.  “Agreed.  I’m thinking that we set up two or three days a month that are specifically for paladin crisis training, and another few days for non-critical status reports.  Mandatory attendance for one day in each category, even for me.  This also gives us a chance as we grow to maintain a shared ethical culture without relying on properly interpreting the ops manual.”

Nate’s eyes flicked to his laptop, sitting askew on the table in between them, before going back to James with an appraising look.  His eyebrows and beard were back, though not the rest of his hair, but at this point that seemed like an aesthetic choice.  “Didn’t actually think you’d have thought about this.”  He gruffly stated.  “How many people?”

”What?”

”How many new paladins are you minting?”  Nate asked.  “And what do you plan on doing with them?”

”Oh!  Three, to start.”  James said as he relaxed into the padded chair, every bruise and aching bone in his body demanding he simply surrender to staying here forever.  “As for what I have planned for them… nothing.  That’s the point.”

Nate shut the laptop with a rough clack and folded his tattooed arms as he leaned back and watched James.  “Really.”

”Really.”  James nodded.  “I’m picking people that match the vibe I want to encourage in the Order.  Not all of it, but facets of it, in different ways.  I want them to be equals to whatever stupid position I have, not subordinates.  And my job, as we’ve talked about, is mostly to solve problems.”  He smiled.  “So I’m going to give them access to all our resources with, you know, the same oversight and restrictions that I get, and then I’m going to tell them to keep doing what they’ve been doing.  Most of the time they’ll be improving communication between groups and projects, sometimes they’ll be doing the dangerous stuff, when needed they’ll be our frontline protectors.  And when they find problems, I expect them to solve them without needing permission.”

”That’s gonna cause more problems.”  Nate rightly pointed out.

”Uh huh.  So what?”  James shrugged.  “Back in the olden days when dinosaurs roamed the earth, my girlfriend told me about something called the utopia fallacy, and I think she meant the nirvana fallacy, but whatever.  The point is-“

”I’ve heard enough of Alanna yelling at the new kids to know what it is.”  Nate cut him off.  “You’re serious about this?”

James smiled and nodded stiffly, his neck threatening to try to murder him if he used that muscle again.  “Yup.  Here’s the thing; it’s always going to come back to the issue of control.  We could try to keep a grip on everyone we give power to.  We could have a laundry list of requirements for this position and a hierarchy of command that would make the sweatiest bureaucracy blush.  We could make an org chart and have laws.”  James traced a finger in an arc across the table.  “And we will figure out what among those things works, and make use of them.  But man, look at the world.”

”Which part?  Not that it matters.  It’s all kinda fucked.”

”Elegant.  Also not really correct but close enough.”  James laughed and was gratified to see Nate’s rocky facade crack slightly with the humor.  “The US has laws, and yet, it has corruption.  The problem was never the laws, it was where things started, and what was allowed to happen.  The ‘way things are’ isn’t working, so we shouldn’t use it as a foundation for our own way of doing business.  Instead, we’re going to do something a little bit old school, and lean on community and responsibility.  And also cheat with magic.”

Rubbing a hand across his face and pressing his boxy glasses up to his forehead, Nate groaned.  “And when you say cheat with magic, you’re  talking about, what, brainwashing people?”

”Only a little bit.” James tapped the table in a rapid little beat.  “I’m actually way more interested in how the relationsticks and the now-proven-success of the avatar… maneuver?… make it possible to have people with massive focused power to use on things that require it, while also making it so that power isn’t inherent to them and can be rescinded.”

”We’ll have words about the brainwashing later.”

”It’s the wrong word.”  James rolled his eyes.  “It’s the encouragement of a healthy emotional state through a mix of magic, lifestyle, and education.”

Nate didn’t look convinced.  “Whatever.  You’re not stealing any of my rogues for this are you?  And when are you even planning to tell the Order at large about this?”

”Not this time.  But if you have candidates, tell me for the second batch.”  James was back to an easy smile.  “And I’m planning for making an announcement in a few days, after I talk to the candidates, and then setting up something dramatic and public because I’m secretly the world’s biggest ham.”

”Secretly my ass.”  Nate snorted.  “Alright.  Now for the real shit.”  He pulled his laptop across the table with a rubbery squeak and flipped it back open, making James wonder how many laptops Nate went through every year.  “Status Quo, Harlan, Priority Earth, the FBI, CSIS, pillars.  What do you wanna hear first?”

”CSIS?”  James cocked an eyebrow.  “We pissed off Canada?  I like Canada!  I was a citizen once!”

Nate’s mouth quirked upward slightly.  “I’m partly fucking with you, but let’s start there.  We heard from Malcom while you were in the Office.  No serious updates, except to say that they’re planning a joint operation against the Priority Earth camp, because it’s technically on the Canadian border with Alaska.  Or close enough that they’re working together.  What he unintentionally revealed is that they’ve got their own weird department, and also that both of them are getting… hrmph.”  Nate grunted as he tried to find the word.  “Better.”

”Better at finding weirdness?”  James asked.  “Because that could have serious value to us when we do start operating more in public in the near future.”

“Could be.  The short version is that Malcom’s actually keeping his people around.  No more losses to memory issues.  And CSIS from the sound of things has the same thing going on.”

”…we should actually tell Research about this.” James said, rubbing the back of his neck and fiddling with the clip on his skulljack.  “Reed and Planner have been trying to figure out if the field effect is even real for over a year now, and they’re not the only ones.”

”Up to you.”  Nate sounded like he had an opinion but kept it to himself.  “The point is, they’re going to start getting better if this keeps up.  There’s a reason they slept on the ecoterrorist cell operating in plain sight, and it’s probably the same reason the cops haven’t shot anyone from Response.  It’s hard to take action when you’re fucking forgetting shit all the time and your files go missing.”

James nodded.  “So, what’s the plan for that?”

”I’m just here to bring you up to speed.”  Nate said.  “Do we need a plan for it?”

”…I guess not.”  James said as he thought about it.  “Malcom owes us some magic blueprints, which I fully do not expect them to give us.  But since Priority Earth stopped fucking setting car bombs, I’m fine letting the government arrest and or shoot them.”  He frowned.  “Wow that sounds bad.”

Nate snorted dismissively.  “Look, I know you’ve got some ideas on how things should go. I even agree a little. Maybe we’ll get that world you’re dreaming of someday.  But right now, I wouldn’t recommend just asking these guys nicely.  Though I might be biased.”  He ground his teeth and repressed a shudder, thinking of his time trapped in a giant hypnotic plant until James and JP had found him and pulled him out.  “Oh, Harlan’s crew is still there, so you know.  Harlan checked in with them.”

“How do you even know that?”

”We can be invisible and incorporeal and you think I’m not training my people to abuse the shit out of that?”  Nate sounded like he didn’t want an actual answer.  “They’ve beefed up security, and have an actual close intercept ship gun mostly concealed in the camp.  No fucking clue where they got that.  Point is, we know Harlan’s in the area.  They can’t teleport without their gear, and they only ever use the thing in the air.  Probably so they don’t leave a trace.”

”We’re calling the teleport gears ‘logisticors’.”  James helpfully and happily pointed out.

Nate scowled.  “I bet you are.”  He shot down James’ attempt at sharing like he was a verbal version of the anti missile gun Harlan had somehow stolen.  “Point is, Harlan showed up and has been in and out with their fancy fucking chopper a dozen times, but they don’t teleport out without it.  They’re in Anchorage right now, doing… something.  Lurking.”

”…that sounds like the kind of unprofessional bullshit I’d say.  Are you feeling okay?”

”It’s been a long week.”  Nate grunted.  “Unimportant.  Let’s get through this briefing.”

The rest of his information on Priority Earth and the surrounding issues was sparse, but delivered in a rapid fire method.  They were stockpiling guns and ammo, but they seemed to be uninterested in recruiting in any way.  There was still no indication of what had happened to them to change their operations, or why they’d apparently purged their own ranks, but the Order’s infomorphs had confirmed there was no living infomorphic life in the area, so it wasn’t that at least.  Most of their business outside their camp was done in groups of five or six, with the men taking off-road vehicles to near the closest things that counted as roads and from there spending days navigating back to civilization.  Usually to retrieve money that was used to pay Harlan, who was doing a lot of the heavy lifting on the gun stockpiling, though Nate didn’t know where the money was coming from.

There was no indication they had the capability to repeat what had happened at the coal plant they’d wiped out of the public record.  Nor was there any indication they even knew about it themselves.  The rogues had identified two other sites they’d hit, also coal burning power plants, that had undergone similar transformations.  All three had all the employees still alive in the pods the massive hypnotic plants grew, though something about the process did erase them from memory the same as the locations themselves.  Recovery was working with them, and Nate stoically refused to editorialize about their mental state.  Instead, he focused on how they were adapting their methodology to search for similar places that were like information black holes.

It sounded worryingly familiar.  “Didn’t we… do this before?”  James asked.  “Did we do this, and then forget we did this?”

”No.” Nate bluntly reassured him.  “We used the method to try to find dungeons for a while, but never turned up any solid hits.  So I don’t have high hopes for this either.  I mostly bring it up because we need to decide what to do with the plants, and the… plants.  The places themselves could actually be good safehouses for us, but the murderous flowers are a problem.”

”They are literally the opposite of murderous.”  James pointed out.  “As in, they keep their prisoners alive.  Seemingly indefinitely?  Like, that I think we should study.  I was mostly waiting to make sure Priority Earth wasn’t going to be a problem before I okayed the Research budget for a full time staff on site at the first one.  They want to hire a lot of people who cost a lot of money.  Do you know what xenogeneticists make?”

“Do you?”

”No.  No one does.  It’s not a real job yet.  Which mostly means they want to get paid either way too little, or way too much.”  James tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling of their secondary skyscraper office.  “I like the safehouse idea though.  Who should we get on that?”

”Ben isn’t busy.  I’ll get him to do it.  Any requests?”  Nate pulled up a blank document and stared at James expectantly.

James honestly figured Nate would know better than him, and said so.  “But!”  He added.  “Make them safehouses for the Order, not just knights or rogues, right?  Food supplies, living quarters, that kind of thing.  Places we can run to, if… well.”  He took a deep breath, trying to not stress about it.  But it was better to plan for cataclysmic failure and not need it, than to lose everything in an attack they weren’t ready for.  “See what we can do with the orange totems we use to clone-expand the Lair.  Can we just copy paste our hospital into every new place we set down roots in?”

”The plant beat you to the roots.”  Nate joked, getting a bark of laughter from James at the unexpected quip, followed by a groan of pain as James strained his bruised shoulder.  “I’ll get some people working on it.  The infomorph requirement to be there safely might be an issue though.  Not everyone has a partner, and not everyone wants one like a lot of your friends do.”

”…Okay, I’m aware that there’s some social and emotional considerations at play.  But that’s a weird way to phrase it.”

Nate just stared at him.  “People you’re friends with are the most likely to actively want a navigator or assignment.  People who don’t, you’re not gonna be friends with, and you fucking know it.”

”I honestly think that’s a coincidence.” James wasn’t sure what he was defending himself from, but he felt mildly offended anyway, just from Nate’s tone.  “I’ll look into one of the plants with some people in the near future, and update you, though.”  Nate nodded at him, and James tried to not frown at feeling like he’d somehow just lost a conversation.  “Anyway.  Status Quo?”

That report was a lot faster, and a lot simpler, with one major caveat.  The simple part was, they were gone.  This branch, anyway.  The kind of operation, they knew now, existed all over the place.  People who assumed authority through violence, and worked to suppress magic wherever they could.  James felt like maybe the Order was worryingly close to the edge of falling into that mindset; he could see the future where they fucked up and turned into another one of those organizations, probably justifying it as ‘for the greater good’, and he didn’t like it.  Which was part of why he wanted more paladins to act as guiding forces for them now, before they really needed it.

This Status Quo was dead though.  Their membership had splintered after their home base had been destroyed by… well, not even by the Chain Breaker.  By their own shortsightedness and fear.  And also James, a little.  They’d had people just quit, abandoning their role in the machinery to go off and do other things, and while the rogues could hunt them down, Nate had accurately guessed that the Order of Endless Rooms wasn’t in the business of retribution.

The last of their people had died in or shortly after a series of car crashes in Yamhill.  And that was it, the book was mostly closed.

Mostly.

One person was left.  One person who’d taken a huge risk to betray his coworkers, who, not even knowing the Order was in the area, had taken action to stop what Status Quo was doing.  A little late, since up until they’d started hurting humans he’d been totally fine with it, but still.  He’d done something.

“Here’s the thing.”  Nate never started sentences that way, and it worried James instantly.  “I want to cut him loose.” He looked at the paladin like he was expecting pushback, and found only curiosity.  “He’s a bastard.  But he’s not a useful source of intelligence for people who aren’t alive.  And he did tell us about the satellite, so-“

”Stop.”  James held up a hand.  “The what?”

”Woulda figured someone would tell you about that.”  Nate frowned.  “That’s a big problem.  We need to work on getting high priority reports out to people.  Might be a .mem worthy solution.   Anyway, this group used a lot of their money and connections to influence a telecom company.  And from there, piggybacked on a satellite launch to put their own hardware in orbit.  That’s how they set the fire; using the sat as part of their ritual that cooked food, paired with people on the ground to do all the chanting.  Wide area hit.  Also why homes and restaurants went up so fast while the fire skirted parks and some other businesses.”

”That’s… fucking weird.  So they had a really selective orbital laser?”  James asked.

Nate nodded once sharply.  “And now we have it.  They seemed to think it would work just fine to start a wildfire, since they were trying to flush out the chanter population from the woods.  Probably by setting a hundred small fires on fruits or nuts and then letting it go nuts with no one to stop that.”  For a guy who tended to appreciate heavy weapons, Nate didn’t sound especially excited about it.  His next words unfortunately explained why.  “Oh, it sucks, though.  Unless you want to fuck up a population center, or just ruin part of a national park, there isn’t much point to it.  It’s only barely targetable, and has no way to dial in the… ritual zone?  The target.”

”That’s fucking psychotic.  But I guess we knew that.”  James wanted to sigh, or maybe go take a nap and wait to forget about this madness, but his magically reinforced energy stockpile made that option less viable.  “What’s going to happen if we let him go?  Worst case.”

”He restarts a SQ group using hidden resources we don’t know about.  Probably copies of the digital memetic attacks, or access to that satellite we don’t know about.”

”Yeah, hey, can we just get rid of that?”

”…can we get rid of the thing in Earth orbit?”  Nate questioned incredulously.

James walked headfirst into the sarcastic question.  ”That is what I’m asking, yes.”

“Can we, a small group without spaceships, shoot down a communications satellite miles overhead outside the atmosphere.”

“…we can’t, can we?”

”No.”

”Damn.  Okay.  I’m guessing he doesn’t want to stay with us.”

”No, he’s racist.”  Nate said bluntly.  “Tried to attack a camraconda when he woke up.  I’m talking to you about this instead of having you meet him, because I think you’d punch him, and if his wounds aren’t healed right you might actually kill the guy.  He’s a human supremacist, who’s also just a little regular racist too.  And don’t get me wrong; your weird fucking way of it could probably change him.  Eventually.  But he doesn’t want to change.  So I’m asking if we want to force the issue like with the Alchemists.”

That was a good question to actually think about.  But overall, James was pretty sure that he’d rather not go through that test right now, while the Order was still in the stages of establishing themselves.  They were a strong community, no denying it, and they’d be able to handle one asshole until that asshole changed.  But he wasn’t willing to commit to keeping someone against their will until they became a better person.

The Alchemists, they’d been in the middle of a half dozen crimes, and the survivors had surrendered themselves to the care of the Order, for better or worse.  It wasn’t great, but it was still an agreement to try.  James had a hard time wanting to impose that on someone that just wasn’t interested.  Especially someone who, for all their shitty behavior, had turned on his people before they’d finished carrying out their mass murder.

”Let him go.”  He said.  “Maybe with a probation style thing, where we do check ins.  You know, because, even if we’re not the government and he’s not our prisoner, he was part of a group that perpetuated a genocide for a long time, and I have zero sympathy for him.”

”Sure.” Nate made a note.  “Oh, also, we’ve cracked a lot of their documents.  They were bulletproof specifically because their mandated upgrade path gave bullet resistance, among other things. There’s a full breakdown of their agent’s magic and the loot drops from the chanters in the dangerous information vault, if you wanna check that out later.” He got a nod of acknowledgment from James, along with pursed lips and a sense that the younger man might just refuse to learn out of moral principle.  Something Nate respected, even if he didn’t think it was tactically optimal.

The last thing was the pillars.  And information there was sparse.  The thing they were now pretty sure was called Blitzkrieg was in Texas again, however briefly.  No sign of the Chain Breaker, the Long Arm Of The Law, or the Last Line Of Defense.  New York without the explosions had apparently quieted down to a place they didn’t feel like making their battleground.

And of course, no further information on the Right Person At The Right Moment.  Nick - James liked thinking of him as Nick, because it was funny - was probably the only one of them that was even remotely helpful.  And he’d asked for help in turn.  And it killed him, every time James thought of it, to know that he didn’t even know where to start.  They couldn’t even have a real conversation, and the only idea anyone had was engineering the circumstances where someone would be in mortal peril without intervention from Nick.  Which was stupid at best and deadly at worst, making it officially in the bottom twenty percent of ideas the Order had considered.

“Did we ever put Planner’s idea into action of being prepared to demolish the Library if the Old… if Blitzkrieg gets close to it?”

Nate gave him a quick nod, and pushed a file from his laptop to James’ skulljack braid with more details.  “Not something we should get comfortable with.”  He said, as if James could ever get comfortable with explosive demolition.

“Alright.”  He stood and stretched. “Well, thanks for the full update.  I’m not sure what to do about half of this, but at least next month you’ll be telling more people about problems they can’t handle than just me.”

“Not every problem has a magic bullet.”  Nate reminded him.  “Sometimes you just keep an eye on it, and wait until it gives you a weak spot.”

James opened his mouth slowly, staring at Nate with a worried look. “What a… really unsettling way to say that!”  He said eventually.

“So you can shoot it.”  Nate added.

“Yeah, I got that.  Thanks.  I’m gonna go check in with Kirk and Chevoy now.  Please don’t follow your instincts and murder them now that they’re exposing vulnerable parts.”

He left before Nate bothered to reply.

_____

He didn’t get too far before his phone rang.  James saw an unknown number through the interface his skulljack braid gave him, and he considered just not answering it as he walked toward the elevator back to the Lair.

That plan to do nothing metastasized as he passed by a twitchy purple furred ratroach.  “Hey Smoke.”  James waved slowly so as not to spook her.  The two of them were really good at ambushing each other by accident, and he didn’t want to make that a tradition.  James looked closer at her, noticing a host of small differences in her form.  “You look good today!”  He couldn’t keep a smile off his face at the remade form of the young ratroach.

Smoke’s own smile flared up, realigned fangs flashing briefly as she curled her triangular head down in embarrassment.  She actually curled in on herself much farther than a human could, chitin bending and making organic creaks as she layered her left hands over her face.

When she whispered an agreement, so quietly that he couldn’t even hear the words, James had one of those moments where he felt like it had all been worth it.  He got those a lot, these days.  Half the Order triggered the feeling, actually, which probably meant he was doing something right.

”I hope it feels good.”  James nodded, still grinning as he stepped aside to let a pair of humans by, busy with the utterly mundane task of sorting out how much they spent on food for the Lair.  “Hey!  I hear you made a friend online?”

Smoke’s demeanor shifted instantly to something James found hilariously familiar; the exact same feeling he always got from his younger sister when she was irate about drama in her social circle, only transported onto a face with three times as many eyes.  Smoke still didn’t speak up, but she did whisper something in an airy voice as she balled up her slender fingers, crossed her arms, and shook her head back and forth like she was trying to dislodge something.

”…Yeah, I’ve had online friend groups too.”  James said, hoping that was what he was agreeing to as his phone buzzed again.  “Well hey, if you need… anything… okay, I need to take a phone call.  It’s cool to see you doing better!  Tell me if you ever need a hand with anything!”  He sighed as the same number called him again, waving to Smoke with a little more energy as he headed down the hall to the office he shared with Rufus, apparently on a permanent basis. James shot the strider a nod as he walked in, Rufus busy with a stack of printed resumes.  It looked like his friend was going to try to engage him in conversation, but James tapped the side of his head and turned away as he answered the third attempt in as many minutes to contact him.  “James’ phone, this is James’.”  He said.

”Really?  You don’t sound like James.”  A familiar and slightly sarcastic woman’s voice said.

”Well, I’m answering with my brain and not my voice, and I’m not great at this yet.  Also who is this?”  He realized he maybe shouldn’t just offer that information up to anyone without asking the second part first.

There was a small pause.  ”It’s Theo.  We used to work together.”  Technically true but also skipping the detail that she’d been one in a long line of managers, none of whom James had particularly liked as coworkers.  Theo should have gone with a more approachable ‘you risked your life for me once’.

”Oh.  Right, hi.”  James grimaced.  “To be clear, I do remember you, I just haven’t heard you over the phone in a long time, and even then it was mostly telling me I was losing my weekend, so this is different.”

”Yeah, you’re probably wondering where I’ve been.”

He snorted out loud, getting a side-eye from Rufus, the growing strider welcoming a small distraction from his work.  “I have not.”  James said.  “Because the last time I saw you, you were being kinda racist.”

”Hey, that’s not fucking fair!”  Theo snapped at him.  “Having questions about the things that burrow into your brain and eat your dreams is pretty goddamn far from racism!”

James rolled his eyes, trying to temper his annoyance with his old boss with the reminder that this really wasn’t a big deal, and her dumb opinion wasn’t relevant to the conversation.  “Theo, why are you calling me.”  He asked flatly.  Maybe too flatly, his skulljack voice probably coming across like he was an inhabitor.

She cleared her throat on the other end of the line, the sound especially grating with how James had chosen to take this particular call.  He was starting to think maybe just using phones as phones was a better option than using his skulljack to do everything.  “Well, you know how I’ve been gone for a while?”

”Vaguely.”

”Some asshole hit my car with a pickup truck.  While I was in it.”  Theo said, voice strained, and James widened his eyes at the news.  He didn’t exactly like Theo, but he didn’t want her to get run over or anything.  Before he could ask if she needed help, she added a bit more information that made it worse.  “So I’ve been in a coma for a month.”

”Christ.”  James spoke out loud, disconnecting from the skulljack and holding his phone up to use his natural voice.  “Do you need anything?  I can cover your medical bills, or find you something to help heal, or-“

”It’s actually annoying that I want to think you’re a dumbass that’s way too trusting, and then you prove me right by saying things like that, and I’m the asshole.”  Theo muttered.  “No, I guess what I want is a consultation.  Since you’re a wizard, or so you keep saying.”

”It’s true, I am.  I got business cards made.”  James lied.

Theo didn’t laugh.  “My leg grew back.”  She said.

That one caught James off guard for two reasons.  “You lost a leg?”  He asked as he dragged a hand through his hair.  He remembered Theo had gotten a purple orb for something like this, but it had been on that list of ‘never going to be tested’ effects.

”And an arm.  And a few fingers.  And a lot of blood, and a kidney, and brain function for a few minutes.”  Theo rattled off her injuries like they were nothing.  “By the time I woke up, my leg was back, and the doctors have a million questions for me.  My arm’s on the way.  So I’m asking you, before I screw something up, if I can sell my blood.”

”…I literally just offered you money…” James muttered.

Theo continued, ignoring him.  “I’m apparently some kind of medical marvel.  So in addition to maybe being a touching interview on early morning television, a lot of people want my body.  For science.”  He could almost hear Theo shrug.  “And this time the biologically impressive black lady actually gets paid for it.  You know, if that’s a good idea.”

”It’s… not the worst idea.”  James admitted, mind racing.  “I have some thoughts.  For one thing, if the purple orb effects change the body in a way that’s replicable by modern medicine, that’s huge.  And I’m tempted to give you the thumbs up based on just that.  But Theo, there are people out there who might hunt you down for spare parts if they knew, and I can’t just pretend there’s no risk to exposing yourself like that.”

”I mean, the hospital already knows I regrew half my body, and humans aren’t supposed to do that.”

”Humans aren’t supposed to do that yet.”  James corrected coyly.  “But seriously.  I’m not kidding.  You were around for the first Status Quo, and we’ve tangled with a second version of them now too. There’s gotta be more, and I don’t know if any of them are jabbing their fingers back into the pie of our home state.  If you want to do this, you can, I won’t stop you.  Hell, I’ll assign you security if you need it.  I’m just warning you, not making a threat or anything.”

”Okay.”  Theo said after a long pause.  “I’m gonna do it.  Thanks for the heads up.  Good luck with your thing.”  She hung up before he could reply.

James pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the flat black rectangle in his hand.  That was the least normal Theo interaction he’d ever had, and she’d once asked him to pretend to be her to their upper management so she could take a secret vacation.  Maybe the whole thing was more important to her than James had uncharitably assumed.  Though he was still kinda annoyed she’d brushed off his multiple offers of help.

Looking over at Rufus, James sighed dramatically to get the strider’s attention.  “My old boss lost some limbs and now science wants to know how she got them back.”  He announced.

Rufus tilted his organic metal hull sideways, his central eye flicking upward before he tapped some of his own pen legs together, as if to say, “Big deal.  I can do that.”

”Yes, well, we can’t all be perfect life forms.”  James reminded his small friend as he headed out, shutting the door behind him.

_____

James took some time to check in on Kirk down in the hospital space.  The man was unconscious, but not in critical condition anymore thanks to the rapid response they’d had to his injury.  Deb had been very, very explicit that humans were not supposed to survive that kind of thing, describing in painful detail the ways that sort of impact interrupted important things in the human body like ‘working organs’ or ‘breathing’.

He’d given an apology, but that wasn’t really what Deb was looking for.  She really did just want him to know that it was a fucking miracle neither of the two humans had died.  The vent spider thing was still alive too, though it hadn’t regained consciousness yet either, and the medical authorities didn’t work on it, so Deb was working with Mars for a mechanical treatment plan to make sure it didn’t die.

He also said hi to Banana, and ran into Alanna down there doing the same thing, his partner showing the crow wasp girl how to fold paper airplanes with careful motions of her claws.

There were actually a bunch of people to check in with here, which was worrying. Though most of the prisoners from Status Quo had moved on, there was one kid who hadn’t emotionally recovered that James tried to visit when he could.  Also he wanted to say hi to Mercy while he was here, just to make sure he was aware of what was going on with the hospital’s emotional support infomorph.  And it was a good time to say hi to Spire-Cast-Behind and see how she was doing at one of the eight different jobs she’d picked up around here.

Notably absent from the hospital was Chevoy,  and when James had asked, Deb, Mercy, and Spite had collectively scowled so hard he was worried it was going to melt the paint off the walls.

James had found Chevoy in the area of their labyrinthine basements that was where the furniture from the Stratified Underburbs was being slowly tested.  Tracking her there had involved asking around, and being sent back and forth between the secure vault, the open basemen where people were back to tinkering with their asphalt mech, the skulljack braid production room, the server room, the backup server room, the magical server room, the baths, Reed’s office, Chevoy’s own office - James knew in advance with his massive intellect she wouldn’t actually be there but he felt compelled to check - and the apartments of three different people that she might be staying with.

This had the beneficial effect of slowly ablating away James’ own scowl by the time he found Chevoy, leaving him merely disappointed and not actively fuming.  It was also good exercise.

Chevoy was awkwardly slouched on a couch that had upholstery in a color that was about as much of a war crime as James could expect from the Underburbs.  A kind of green-splattered sickly yellow.  She was apparently reading out of a paperback she had in her hands to a pair of camracondas, though it was hard to imagine how someone was supposed to read when their face was nothing but red-black bruises, and their mouth stuffed with gauze.

As James approached, he got an idea of what was going on.  Chevoy was speaking mostly in strained groans, subvocalizing words in her throat without moving her mouth that much.  And yet, James still felt like he was keeping up with her as she read off her book to the snakes taking notes.

”Ahem.”  He introduced himself, folding his arms.

”Oh, good evening.”  Paper-And-Words said politely.  “Are you here to assist with testing, or will there be more yelling happening?”

That sort of answered one of James’ questions of if anyone knew that Chevoy was here.  “I don’t plan on yelling.”  He said, crossing his arms at the engineer who was busy rearranging the gauze that was filling the holes some of her teeth used to occupy.  “Chevoy.  How’s it going.”  His voice was dryer than desert dirt.

She took a second to swallow awkwardly and clear her throat before making a series of unintelligible grunts.  Which, somehow, were still intelligible enough for James to understand it as something like “Not bad, no need to freak out.”

”Oh, I do disagree.”  He shook his head as he affected a mock posh tone.  “You see, I came down here to check on one of our precious knights, who was nearly mortally wounded in action, only to find she’s had her body commandeered by the vengeful spirit of some random dumbass who has dragged her to a magical couch.”

”Yeah!”  Chevoy’s eyes watered as she started to smile and one of the bandages on her cheek dampened with blood where she split a cut open.  Her next whimper didn’t mean anything, but the followup groans came out as barely understandable.  “Figured the couch out.  Well, this couch.  It improves communication!”

”I’m noticing.”  James commented.

Paper-And-Words added their digital voice to the conversation.  “Repeated testing has shown it isn’t exactly translating, and it works as well with foreign languages as with Chevoy making sounds as if I were strangling her.  That is why we are testing now with something that has complex vocabulary.  It allows us to make charts and derive ratios.”

”It’s not a huge amount.”  Chevoy conceded.  Actually, she said a lot more than that, but that was all James could understand.

Paper-And-Words hissed a sigh.  “You see?  She tried to list off numbers.  But you hear this.  The estimate is that thirty percent of meaning is preserved, if we must put a number on it.”

”Chevoy… you need to actually take time to heal.”  James said with a sigh.  “This isn’t okay.  People are worried.”

”I’m fine!”  Chevoy protested over the course of a full paragraph of gurgled argument that James didn’t catch.

He didn’t think she was fine.  He thought she was an idiot, and this was becoming a pattern of behavior that James wasn’t okay with.  Chevoy seemed to get motivated by injuries that would put anyone else on a two week long recovery vacation.  And while he appreciated her constant work down here, and in the field, he didn’t really think that humans were supposed to bounce back that quickly.

James would know, after all, because he did that all the time.

But he didn’t really know what to say to get her to actually go back to the hospital and take a fucking nap.  It wasn’t like they had a right to keep her strapped to a bed until her teeth grew back; assuming that was a power she had at all.  And Chevoy was making it pretty clear that she’d rather be skipping her painkillers and messing around with dungeontech than actually taking care of herself.

”Whatever you are thinking,” Paper-And-Words offered with a twisting shake of his camera head, “we already tried telling her, and she won’t leave.”

”Fine.”  James settled on, but unhappy about it.  “What’s up with the giant vent spider?”  He might have sounded a little irate asking.

Chevoy made a series of muffled exclamations that worked out to either “It helped us out!” Or maybe “It’s friend shaped!” Or something similar enough.

Taking the answer as the best he was going to get, especially seeing the camracondas nodding along, James just sighed again, rubbing at one of his eyes in frustration.  “Please figure out if the couch is more useful than it is ugly.”  He ordered.  “And Chevoy, tell Deb where you are in case you have some kind of internal bleeding that she missed.”

Chevoy made a gauze-muffled protest that sort of kind of meant that she was great at keeping all her blood where it was meant to be.  Which was, James knew for a fact, a fucking lie.

_____

The main floor of the Lair was usually not as chaotic as any given basement, but it still tended to have a lot going on.  Response members got lunch, a trickle of people lined up to get packages or orb payouts from the front desk, Ava’s mom caught her and Hidden trying to sneak out and threatened to feed her to the frogs in the big terrarium setup, the frogs kept on not eating people, and a couple new people interviewing for Recovery positions had to have it explained to them that yes, this was a one floor building, and yes, they had an elevator.  Take it up.

“I feel as though I’ve been making a grave error.”  Karen told James when she ambushed him as he waited in the dining area to meet with a couple of his friends.

He looked up from his phone where he was playing weird sudoku variants at the older human woman, and instantly felt like he was underdressed compared to the deep blue power suit she was wearing today.  Karen had more sartorial prowess than most of the Order put together, and he felt like it was a shame that she mostly used it on ‘normal’ stuff.  James didn’t say that out loud though, instead asking, “Who taught you to talk like a camraconda?  Are you secretly Texture-Of-Barkdust today?”

Karen pursed her lips and took the seat opposite him, sitting with poise in the comfortable dining chair.  “Borrowing each other’s mental faculties is only useful when one of us is asleep.  I respect Marlea’s boldness very much, but you will not be seeing the two of us as one person anytime soon.”

”I actually was talking about the table that body swaps people, but sure, that too.”  James shifted his chair so he could lean back and keep an eye on the main entrance for anyone coming in.  “That’s a cool use of the skulljack though!”

The portion of Karen’s brain that demanded answers to everything all the time wanted to tear into the comment about the body swapping and dig down to why they had that, where it was, and how well protected the object happened to be.  But she restrained herself, because she was here to focus on a different problem instead.

”Thank you.”  Karen nodded politely.  “Now.  Several people just came home severely injured from your latest adventure.”

James sobered quickly.  “Yeah.”  He sighed.  “They did.”  He turned and looked at the table in the corner where a half dozen striders were carefully building a fort out of the menus they’d been unwittingly given by one of the kids helping out as waitstaff today.  “Nothing lethal, though… I guess if we keep doing this, it’s only a matter of time.”  The thought was grim and he hated it, even if James knew they had to acknowledge the reality.

”Yes.  Well.  I’ve been reconsidering my stance on letting my daughter participate.”  Karen said, laying one hand over the other as she focused on James.

”Two things about that.”  James replied, glad to have an easy problem to handle.  “One, she’s eighteen now, so… you know.  Adult things, for better or worse.  Two, though, is that I’m not sending your daughter hang gliding off a ledge.”  He snorted a laugh.  “There’s a few new kids who want to get in on this.  And they’re getting a lot of hands on and academic training first, but also, they’re not going into any dungeons.  They’re barely going camping together until we’re sure they’re ready.”

”That… somewhat puts me at ease, thank you.”  Karen was still frowning though.  “I think I would have preferred that she choose college, though.  Nothing too stressful, just a nice Ivy League school.”

”I for real cannot tell when you’re joking.”  James admitted.  And while the corner of Karen’s mouth twitched upward, that wasn’t actually an answer.  She had been hanging out with camracondas too much, if this was the level of subtle sass that James was going to need to face from their accountant.  “But yeah, no delving for Liz.  She might end up with an accidental college education anyway though.  Oh!  That reminds me!  Has anyone talked to you about making an accounting skill file?”  James snapped his fingers and then had to frantically wave away the eager teenager that thought he was summoning a server.

Karen shook her head.  “Even with the assistant program, I can’t seem to manage it.  A few attempts were close, but had too much… oh, what is the term they use?  Emotional memory?”

”Emotional residue?”

”No, I would remember if it was something that unpleasant.”  Karen shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter.  Apparently my memories are too depressing to use.”

”…do you wanna talk about it?”  James offered.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever extended that offer to Karen before; the woman had grown a lot in her time here, but she still seemed like the kind of person who was used to forcing her feelings into whatever box was most convenient for her to get work done.

She took a short and sharp breath.  “It would be a lie to say that I feel good about it.”  Karen admitted.  And as she spoke, her voice dipped slightly, and it became much easier for James to see that she was a lot more exhausted than she let on most of the time.  “I’m a bona fide American success story, you know.  Worked my way up from a position I was dramatically overqualified for, to eventually be a senior accountant.  And still got paid less than every man in my department who’d been doing it five years less than me.  I had a family, a house with a white picket fence - a literal white picket fence, my husband liked the joke - I went to PTA meetings and was respectable.”  Karen hadn’t really looked away from James while talking, but now her eyes bore into him like weapons.  “Can you imagine what it’s like to be normal?”  She asked.

“I’m not entirely sure how to take that.”  James laughed it off, deciding not to be offended.  “But I get it.  The world had a place for you, and you fit that role well.”

”Exactly.”  Karen said.  “You understand.  And then one day it all changed, and I went from signing your paychecks as part of a batch of a hundred to owing you my life and being unemployed.  But, I told myself, it wasn’t that bad.  The world might change, but I would still be useful.  And it was true.  I like to think my place here is half something I carved out, and half something that was deeply needed.”

James nodded like an eager puppy.  “I would agree with that!”  He smiled at her.  “Like, it wasn’t frictionless at first, but without you actually helping, we probably would have spent all our money and split up before we found a way to keep this operation running.  So thanks?”

”Yes.  Well.”  Karen couldn’t hide her pride, but it faded soon enough.  “And now that I’ve started to see value in how you want the world to look, and I really want to pass on my skills to anyone and everyone… I find that my feelings aren’t normal.  That what I thought was just how people were, naturally, is unique to me, and that I’ve been the outsider all along for how much I secretly hate my life.  And that no one can stand to feel like me.”  It impressed the hell out of James that she could say all that without her voice breaking at all.  “And now I’m telling you all this, because it seems like that’s another way the world changed around me when I wasn’t looking.”

She probably didn’t mean it to be a joke, but James chuckled lightly, tilting his hand up on the table to make it clear that he meant no offense.  “Okay.  So.”  He wasn’t sure how to even phrase this, so he just dove in.  “First off, you should actually talk to one of our therapists.  And don’t give me that look.  You just described your life like you’ve suffered from depression for the last forty years and didn’t even know.  And I get it, that sucks.  I’m not saying you need medication, but just having the knowledge and some tools to cope can help a lot.  We’ve also got a couple purple orbs that might improve things.”  James shrugged.  “I hadn’t actually realized depression could taint .mem files, and that means I should probably go delete my minor fencing one from our database.  But that’s secondary to this.”  James shifted his chair so he was facing Karen directly, as a peer and nothing else.  “What you do for us is less valuable than having you here in the Order.  If our accounting is just a thing you’re forcing yourself to do because of… because of anything, really… then just say the word.  We can hire an accountant.  Hell, Cathy and Barkdust could do it.  I might be able to do it, I did actually go to college for something like this.  Karen, the Order is here for you, not the other way around.  You can do whatever you want and we’ll make it work.”

”What if what I want is to keep your engineering team from overspending on incredibly hard to source materials to build a space elevator out of?” Karen challenged him.

”Literally no one wants to do that.  We just have to, for the greater good.”  James countered.  “Also I still haven’t gotten a good answer from Mars or Mike about what they plan to do with the space elevator once we have it.”  He and Karen both pressed fingers into the left side of their foreheads at the same time in mutual exasperation.  “I mean, I know a space elevator is both cool and immensely valuable. But what are we going to use it for?  Asteroid mining?  Building space habitats?  Do we just sell it to Japan for an infinite number of dollars?”

”I had hoped you would have those answers before I asked those questions.”  Karen sighed.

James groaned.  “Alright.  Well.  We’ll… figure that out.  My point is, we can figure it out without you.  You can always take time to explore what you actually want to do.  Go join the basement pottery club, or get in on running the youth group, or just relax and watch everything cool on Netflix for the next year.  Did you know they made a Castlevania animated series, and it’s actually pretty good?”  James could see that she neither knew, nor cared, so he just smiled and abandoned that path of inquiry.  “Point is, you don’t need to do anything.  So do what you want.  And we’ll work around it.”

”You are far too accommodating.”  Karen accused him.

”Yeah!   And everyone is happier for it!”  James riposted.  “You think the Order is full of special people?  It is, but here’s the secret you probably already noticed; most of the people here weren’t really that driven.  Simon was a bike courier, now he’s responsible for saving lives every day.  Momo, Reed, and John all worked in a call center because they had to or they’d fucking starve to death, and now they figure out how our magic works so we can reshape humanity.  El was just some asshole, and now she’s a teacher.  I was…  You already know the non-secret, and now I’m telling you it applies to you too.”

”…if you let people do what they want, it seems they tend to be more motivated.”  Karen admitted, like it was pulling teeth to concede that point.

”Exactly.”  James nodded.  “And you know what?  Some people check out, or leave, or just get high and watch Animal Planet all the time.  Which, by the way, I recommend trying sometime; it’s not an everyday activity, but whales are awesome.”  He raised his eyebrows and Karen absolutely did not rise to the bait, so James just continued.  “If you meet people’s base needs… well, look around.  A lot of people want to help keep that going.  Enough people.  Enough that you can go learn guitar or take a vacation or whatever.”

Karen waved him off.  ”Yes, yes, I take your meaning.”  She said bluntly, before softening slightly. “I will… consider it.”

”And a therapist.”

”I will consider it.”  She repeated, though possibly a little more deceptively.  “Thank you for your time.  I need to get back to work.”

”And I need to as well.”  James sat up straight as he saw Anesh coming in along with a couple people helping him carry a small crate.  “Paladin stuff, you know?”  He gave Karen a polite nod, and she excused herself.

And then Anesh arrived, and James got down to the very important business of testing a lot of orbs for potential in copying.

Paladin business.  Because his job now was, actually, to do what others couldn’t.  To be as strong as possible in every way he could manage, so he could share that strength as best he could.  And that meant orbs.

And notes on the orbs.  And tests on his body’s changes after the orbs.  And James felt like Anesh’s estimate that this would take an hour or so was a bit of a lie as his boyfriend had his helpers place the heavy plastic crate near their table and started setting up to record.

”I was gonna try to get Arrush to go on a lunch date with me…” James wondered if it was too late to bail on this today, and remain slightly more mundane for a few hours.

”That’s very cute.  I hope you have fun on your dinner date.”  His boyfriend shattered that hope, casually reaching into James’ pocket as he walked by and stealing his telepad.

”…I love you?”  James tried.

”I love you too!  Now, let’s get you some purples.”  Anesh let the plea for help wash over him like waves on the rocks, and let James’ hope recede like the tide.

James sighed.  Maybe if he went fast, this could be over quickly.

_____

[Shell Upgraded : Hair Growth Speed - Torso, +.1 cm/week]

”Hate that.”

[Shell Upgraded : +2 Teeth - Canines]

”Ow, but also… okay, weirdly fine.  Actually kinda smooth, and there’s a weird gap I can fidget with my tongue with.  Maybe get this to Chevoy for the obvious reason.”

[Shell Upgraded : -1 Ingrown Hair / Month]

”Sure.”

[Shell Upgraded : +5% Radiation Absorbed]

”…ssssssure.”

[Shell Upgraded : Muscle Density - Calves - +8 mg/cm^3]

”Nice.  Put that on the potential standard list.”

[Shell Upgraded : Blood - Production - Red - +1.2 cups/week]

”Minor, but useful.  Yes, especially with how often I get cut, thanks Anesh.  Next?”

[Shell Upgraded : Surface Temperature Control - +/- 2.4° Fahrenheit]

”Cool.  Yes, pun intended.”

[Shell Upgraded : +3% Limb Regrowth - Toe / Month]

”I feel a bit bad that we gave Theo the super powered limb orb before we could copy it, and now all I get is slightly more toes.  For certain definitions of ‘more’.”

[Shell Upgraded : -3% Telomere Decay / Year]

”…I… I don’t…” James had to pause for that one to breathe and compose himself.  “You know I’m terrified of dying, right?  Do you know what this is?  Anesh this is the fountain of youth in a ball.  Unless it’s proportional and not absolute, which seems likely, but it’s still… this would keep a human alive for… quick math… forty, fifty years longer than normal?   No, that’s not even true, is it!  Because for those forty or fifty years, this thing keeps working!”  James was raising his voice now.  “You know I was talking to Karen before you showed up, and I think she thinks she’s too old to get into anything new?  Well not anymore.  We’re going to live for a very long time, and I can’t wait to share it with you all.”  And then the moment of a perfect loving dramatic outpouring had to end.  “Right.  Okay.  Mandatory list.  Potentially for mass distribution. Next orb.  Let’s keep going.”

[Shell Upgraded : Comfortable Resting Posture - +/- 1°]

”…Wow that’s some whiplash.”

[Shell Upgraded : Dexterity - Manual - Sinestral - +18 Complex Actions/Month]

[+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Determination]

”That one had a red mixed in.”  James commented, holding up his left hand and trying to figure out what exactly had changed.  “Which might be the best part of it.”

[Shell Upgraded : Cellular Recycling, 1,200/hour]

”I’m not even sure what that means exactly, or if that number is high enough to matter.  Can you check with Deb while we keep going?”

[Shell Upgraded : Sensory Range - Pressure - +2 mm]

”It’s not, huh?   Oh, this one isn’t really anything either, I don’t think.”

[Shell Upgraded : -15% Refractory Period]

”Oh good!  Hey Anesh, we can test- ow!  No, it’s for science!”

[Shell Upgraded : Time to Organ Failure, +37 Seconds]

”That’s so vaguely worded and also now a mandatory part of any combat kit.  Two of them per person, no exceptions.”

[Shell Upgraded : +3c Temperature Tolerance]

“More generally good stuff.  Priority list.”

[Shell Upgraded : +1% Nerve Sensitivity - Elbow - Right]

”And that one’s not.”

[Shell Upgraded : Surface Injury - Time To Scab - -3 Minutes Maximum]

”Wow that’s almost telling us how it actually works.  That’s novel!  Anesh, write that down!”

[Shell Upgraded : +20% Salt Tolerance]

”And we’re back to cryptic bullshit.”

[Shell Upgraded : -1 Broken Bones - Spine / year]

”Put it on the list.  Also I need you to know I’m repeating the formatting exactly.  Has anyone figured out if the different ways the purples phrase things means anything yet?  No?  Great.”

[Shell Upgraded : +610 Watts Electrical Generation - Resting]

”I don’t… know what to… do with this one.  I can kinda feel it, but that might be a placebo?  What a weird orb.  I kinda wonder if it combos with the one that let’s me taser people with my hands, but it’s not like testing that is a good idea.  Actually, Anesh!  Are you into- ow!  Alright, fine, I’ll ask later!”

[Shell Upgraded : Organ Efficiency - Spleen - +5%]

”Neat.  Low priority.  Next.”

[Shell Upgraded : Nerve Errors, -3/week]

“Neat?  Less itching I guess?  Next.”

[Shell Upgraded : LD50 - Sarin Nerve Gas - +20 mg/cm^3]

”…N-neat?  Terrifying, but okay, sure.  Next.”

[Shell Upgraded : Injury Healing Time - Skin - Abrasion - -4 hours]

”Excellent.  General usefulness, put that in rotation.”

[Shell Upgraded : Vocal Range, +1 Octave]

[+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Ennui]

”Might be helpful for someone that’s not me, but it’s cool that I have the opinion now.  Oh, also more ennui.  Hooray.”

[Shell Upgraded : Lung Capacity - +1 liter^3]

”Good for anyone focused on Climb spells.  Which includes me now, I guess.”

[Shell Upgraded : Writing Speed - +30 words/minute]

”…You know, sometimes, I think we’re getting a handle on what purple orbs can do, and then they do something like this shit.  What, exactly, is this changing about my body?  Like, writing is such a complex process.  Is it making my fingers more nimble?  Is it making my brain go faster?  Does it just help with hand cramps and this is an average number?  I hate this.  This is like the one that lets me jump higher that stops making my legs stronger if I’m not jumping.  It’s so fucking dumb.  You know what, I changed my mind.  Let’s Cask of Amontillado the Office and go live on the Climb where all the magic at least feels like magic.”

[Shell Upgraded : -3 Pronunciation Errors / Day]

”This is the exact same bullshit!  It’s just… objectively more useful, and so I’ll stop yelling.  For now.”

[Shell Upgraded : Healing Time - Scab - -3 hours]

[+1 Skill Rank : Music - Instrument - Harmonica]

”Useful.  Not earthshaking.”

[Shell Upgraded : Mucus Function +19%]

“I’m gonna refrain from saying that’s gross, because knowing how the human body works, that is very helpful for staying in good health.  Make a note for when Spire-Cast-Behind tests these on the camraconda side, cause I wanna know what they have in place of mucus.”

[Shell Upgraded : Range of Motion - Eyeball - +1°]

”I feel like some of these are being intentionally stifled.  Also hang on.”  James tested it, flicking his eyes as far to the side as they could go.  “Okay, yeah, my brain just filters out the extra black space.  It’s not actually improved vision radius.  Next.”

[Shell Upgraded : +855 Newtons Joint Rotational Force - Shoulder]

”Well, it’s both shoulders, so that’s good.”

[Shell Upgraded : Keratin Growth - Toenail - +4 mm/week]

”Okay now that’s just not helpful at all.  That’s actively annoying.”

[Shell Upgraded : Maximum Reactable Speed - Sprint - +3 MPH]

”Now that is a good one.  Let’s do some quick checks, but I think that’s a winner for a good basic upgrade.”

[Shell Upgraded : +8 Months Lifespan]

”The other one already made me cry over this, but if it hadn’t, this would get me.  This one is less for everyone right now, but still so valuable since we can copy it.”

[Shell Upgraded : +3% Durability]

”…Okay.  Yeah.  Okay!  I like this one, this is what I keep expecting from the purples.  Vague but probably still useful.  Wait, what do you mean we have to test it?  Anesh I was going to go on a daaaaate.  This is already taking forever, how many more orbs are there?”

[Shell Upgraded : Hair Follicle Control - +/- 30% Maximum Functionality]

”Well this offsets the thing that turns me into a Sasquatch at least.  I hope.  Give me a second to see how much focus it takes to force my body to stop growing most hair.”

[Shell Upgraded : Flexibility - Bone - Rib - +6mm]

”That’s a good one.  Maybe not for every kit, but still good.  Wait.  Ribs, or singular rib?”

[Shell Upgraded : +1.5 mbps Throughput]

“Hm. Mark that one for a secondary test on someone without a skulljack.”

[Shell Upgraded : Internal Damage Threshold - Gamma Ray Exposure - +120 mSv]

“If this ever comes up, I will be shocked.  Also is that a lot?  That’s a lot?  Okay, well, that’s good I guess.”

[Shell Upgraded : -3 Pints Blood Loss / Year]

“That might count as a repeat but it definitely counts as useful.”

[Shell Upgraded : Secondary Thought Process - Locational Checking - 20% Maximum Functionality (Additive)]

And then they had to pause testing for a little while as James had to take some time to acclimate himself to suddenly having an extra mind.

It involved a bit of screaming, which made Anesh think that maybe they shouldn’t have done this in the middle of the dining room.  But his boyfriend recovered pretty quickly once his assistant tracked down where Zhu was and had the navigator pour back into James, taking point on directing the new sub-mind that was causing some focus problems.

James said that eventually he would have gotten used to it, and then made an absolutely terrifying claim that he’d had to go through this kind of thing with some purple effects before.  But Zhu nestled into the space like he’d just been giving a penthouse apartment, and promptly put things right.  Just before James passed out.  An occurrence that was becoming a little too common.

Anesh stopped their testing there for the day.  They’d get to the rest of them in ones and twos with other people.  His boyfriend could pick up the ones that were useful for a paladin later.  Maybe he didn’t need to try all of them himself.