by Tao Wong
“So no more wars?”
“No more wars. More culture. More economic development between solar systems and planets within. And a focus on the Forbidden Zone and taking back planets that have been lost,” Ali explains.
I sigh. Tired of sitting, I minimize the images and head over to stand before the window. I stare outside, seeing not the green grass of the flat lawn but a blasted, torn red landscape, a world devoid of everyday life. Until it isn’t, and the teeth and fangs of the Forbidden Planet monsters emerge, seeking my throat.
“That’s impossible.”
“So long as Mana increases,” Ali says, shaking his head. “But continually picking up and moving planets isn’t exactly healthy either.”
Too true. So many planets, so many lives lost because they couldn’t afford to leave the solar systems that have fallen into the Forbidden Zone. It’s not sustainable, not really. Especially when the new, life-bearing planet numbers keep dropping. When you have to rebuild a new society every few hundred years.
“He and his group are the most likely external threats you will face,” Ali says. “They aren’t likely to do anything too overt or aggressive, but…”
“But?”
Ali shrugs. “If he or his people can influence you, they will. If they can make the Paladins support their cause, that’d be a win in their views.”
I turn away from the window and look back at the Spirit. “That it?”
“Nope. I still got a dozen more. Lesser importance, but we’ve got others who might want, or think they deserve, a shot, or who might have issues with the initiates. Or you. Including some external organizations, like the Blacklist Asteroid pirates,” Ali says.
I sigh, flopping back in my chair and conjuring a big box of chocolate. “Fine. I guess we’re doing this then.”
Ali grins and I roll my eyes, but I get to listening. And while I do so, I keep an ear out for what he doesn’t say. For the threats to my other task, for the real danger that lurks beneath it all. I keep an eye on the information he feeds me, the data downloads, as my mind that’s been pushed and expanded by the library tackles the problem head-on.
And I wonder, a small part of me, how far away from human I’ve come. And how much further I’ll go before this is over.
Chapter 7
The next evening, it has taken me an hour or so to track down the Champion. I’d spent the morning and most of the afternoon with the initiates, working through their requests. Funny to think that I found her in the city itself, a good teleport circle away. Those things were keyed to only push authorized people back and forth, hard-line coded so that you couldn’t use them to pop out—or in—anywhere but the circles. Good safety procedures, but annoying after spending so long blipping around wherever I wanted.
I wait, leaning against the wall opposite the building the Champion is in. I attract the attention of more than a few passersby. There’s even a security guard standing inside the grounds, watching me. I guess the sight of a human lurking before a school building in the middle of a city is all kinds of suspicious. Especially when said alien has his Class hidden.
Still, it’s probably better than me wandering into the center of the school and demanding to speak to the Champion while she’s busy doing a classroom visit. I mean, I’m an ass, but messing up the kids’ treat goes from an ass to just rude.
Even as I ponder the fine line and browse the information streams, a floating car pulls up. Anti-gravity propellers on the bottom allow the vehicle to hover just off the ground as it glides almost soundlessly up to me. From inside the gray-and-black vehicle step two Erethrans, dressed in the same colors, sheathed swords and guns on their hips. A large glinting bracer sits on their off-hands, ready to pop up a moving shield generator when it’s needed. Small, circular manacles sit on their belts, distortion equipment to lock me down if necessary.
“Excuse me, sir. We’d like a few words with you,” the Erethran closest to me says once he stops a few feet away. Just outside of my reach, but easily within his.
His friend is farther back, flanking him with his hand on his gun while eying Ali, who floats beside me.
Erethran Peace Officer (Level 34) (B)
HP: 690/690
MP: 690/690
Conditions: Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability
As his Aura pings off my resistances, I pull out the notification on the Aura itself.
Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability (B)
A mainstay Skill among Peace Officers the Galaxy over, this Aura is less threatening and increases individuals’ suggestibility to commands. It encourages a calm and peaceful interaction, muting anger and other passionate responses.
Effects: +10% increase in chance for command obedience
-10% decrease in hormonal and emotional responses within field
Range: 10m diameter
Cute. Probably a useful thing, considering the amount of stressed and grumpy individuals they deal with. It’s a lot less harsh and in your face than a military officer’s Aura of Command, and generally makes working in crowd control or just walking down the street easier and more peaceful.
I tilt my head, eying the other officer.
Erethran Peace Speaker (Level 39)
HP: 450/450
MP: 810/810
Conditions: Eye of Truth, Aura of Volubility
His Aura is a good complement to his Skill. The Aura makes you want to talk, while the Eye of Truth verifies if you’re telling the truth. Obviously there’s the usual issue with “truth”-telling spells, ranging from how they verify truth to what kind of truth it verifies, but I’m going to ignore all that. Add the Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability to the mix, and you end up answering questions without even meaning to. That is, if you can’t resist them.
“Sir?” the first officer calls again.
“Sorry, Officer. Boy-o gets distracted,” Ali replies for me, floating over and adjusting his angle to be at eye-level. “What can we do for you?”
I eye the street, noticing how the Erethran public is backing off, disappearing. There are notable exceptions. A pair of teenagers glare at me, hands by their sides. As if they’re ready to jump in. And an older man, seated down farther from me, sipping on his drink. He pings off as more of a danger—not just his Class and Levels but because of how calm he is. He’s a vet or an Adventurer, someone who’s seen shit.
“Just a routine check, sir. We’ve had reports of a suspicious individual lurking before the school,” the first officer continues speaking. He has his legs apart, backed off just enough that I have to crank my head up a little to meet those brown eyes of his. There’s a polite smile on his lips, but his eyes are cold and passionless.
“Lurking would require me to be using a Skill to hide, no?” I say, then frown. “Unless there’s a translation or cultural error.” I tap my lips before chopping down sideways. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not lurking. I’m standing in full view.”
“For what reason?”
“I’m waiting.” When my statement is met with frigid silence, I sigh. “For the Champion.”
There’s a puzzled pause then. They’re not concerned I’m going to attack her. That’d be dumb. She’s their Champion. The very idea of me being able to beat her is inconceivable to them.
“Are you a uniform chaser?” the Speaker finally asks, his voice doubtful as he eyes me.
“A what?”
“Uniform chaser.”
“Repeating doesn’t explain anything,” I snap.
“Uniform chaser. Someone who’s a fan of those in uniform. Sort of like your groupies or puck bunnies,” Ali explains.
“Wait. You think I’m here to sleep with Ayuri?” I say, my jaw dropping.
“Sleep with? No! How dare you. The Champion would never—” the Officer starts up, getting agitated and angry.
“Carmaz. Stop.” A pulse of power originating from the Speaker shuts up his colleague. “Now, what are you doing here?”
“I’m waiting to speak with the Champion
. Not sleep with her. Or get her autograph.” I pause. “Do you guys do autographs? Or is there something else? A System e-mail? Notification that’s specially added? A tattoo? Branding?”
I’m getting weird looks now. Well, weirder. The Officer has calmed himself, but he’s also stepped back another half-step as his eyes narrow just above my head. Mana swirls around him as he triggers a Skill, then another one. Then he gestures with one hand while buffing himself. The Speaker’s eyes are flicking side-to-side. If I had to guess, she’s calling in more help.
“It is a crime to conceal one’s Class from a Peace Officer,” the Officer says, his voice dropping a notch cooler. He’s calmer now that they think I might be a problem. Calmer than some veterans of the apocalypse I’ve met. I’m impressed.
“Sorry. Didn’t realize that. One sec.” I touch the ring on my left hand.
As I turn it off, my Status information flickers on again. Ever since I’ve begun using Daghtree’s Legendary Ring of Deception, I’ve been amused to learn that it has a lower-Level effect that can be triggered without using a charge. It’s part of its own ability to conceal its effects, making it look like a simple Ring of Deception. Once willed, the information hiding my Status disappears, leaving it open for anyone to read. Of course, I keep on the secondary effect that hides my true Level.
“Rings of Deception are restricted materials. I will need to see a permit,” the Officer says, his eyes locked on my hands, both of which are still clasped in front of me.
“Don’t have one, sorry,” I say. “Ali, can you make a note on that?”
“What am I? Your secretary?” Ali throws up his hands.
“We’re going to need to confiscate the ring then.” The Officer isn’t even trying to hide his wariness, having pulled his pistol.
I idly eye the weapon, noting it’s a Tier II. It’d hurt if I got shot, but it wouldn’t do more than annoy me.
“Carmaz,” the Speaker says, his voice urgent. Rather than drawing his weapon, his eyes are locked above my head and my newly revealed Status.
“Hand over the ring. Slowly.”
“Not happening.” I shake my head.
The pistol rises. “I won’t ask you again.”
The Speaker’s voice grows more frenetic. “Carmaz!”
I eye the surroundings idly, noting how the two teens disappeared the moment my Status became visible. On the other hand, the vet has made a giant beam rifle appear. It’s sitting across his knees, but I do note that the barrel is pointed in my direction.
“What?” the Officer snaps at his partner.
“Look at his Status!”
Carmaz visibly yanks his gaze upward, resting above my head. His eyes widen then narrow. He looks at me—at my face, at me resting against the wall still—and takes a large step back. The beam pistol doesn’t move from my chest though.
“I am arresting you. Failure to reveal Status. Use of class 7 restricted items. Impersonation of government officials,” Carmaz recites the words by rote.
“I’m not impersonating anyone. That’s my name. And my Class.” I tilt my head at the Speaker. “Ask your partner.”
“He speaks truth. But that’s not possible.”
“Put up your hands. I want to see them. We’re waiting until prisoner transportation arrives.”
I groan, moving my hand up to my face. Ali’s trying to say something to calm the man, to deal with the misunderstanding. I even hear Carmaz bark at me to stop rubbing at my face, but I ignore him. Mostly. I do toss up a Soul Shield, not wanting to actually get shot.
“That Skill…”
“I’m adding use of restricted Class Skills to the charges!”
“Look, boy-o really is telling the truth. Just check with your bosses—”
“There are no reports of a new Paladin!”
“Oh, shit. Yeah, maybe Ayuri hasn’t let it be known…”
“Put your hands up! You are under arrest.”
I’m kind of grateful that they’re well trained and not shooting me. Since I’m not doing anything aggressive, they aren’t risking getting physical or escalating things. Not without reinforcements. Smart. Because you never know.
Another Skill washes over me, one that attempts to shut down access to my Skills. And I frown. Because that’s normally the start of something more…
The pistol that hasn’t shifted glows, the finger slips over the trigger. The Peace Officer keeps barking orders about me giving up and lowering my defenses to let them cuff me.
And then, Unilo and Mayaya pop into existence right beside us.
The beam from the pistol hits my Soul Shield, flaring once then dying. Another, more serious attack comes from the vet. It almost drills right through the Shield. I’m impressed. Very much so.
Having fired at me, the Officer is turning, readying himself to deal with the new threats while the Speaker claps his hands together, stilling Mana. Sirens blare above us as the newly arrived prisoner transport with its artillery-sized weaponry deploys out its sides, laser targeting sights locking onto my body. My still-leaning-against-the-wall body.
“Oh, hey, guys!” I greet the Honor Guards with the hand that was rubbing at my face. I don’t change my stance or let my body language change, even with the attacks. I do refresh my Soul Shield though, just in case. “About time you arrived.”
***
“You couldn’t have done this a little more discreetly?” Ayuri snaps at me two hours later, the moment she strides back into her office on the palace grounds.
After Mayaya and Unilo settled the police—and added my information to the public database so that this wouldn’t happen again—they’d dragged me out of public sight. Even if their society didn’t have reporters or paparazzi per se, it didn’t mean the gossip network and other word-of-mouth systems of information didn’t exist.
“I tried,” I protest, throwing up my hands and nearly spilling the drink in my hand. It’s a bright, glowing pink and tastes a little like a good mead. Sweet, dry, and with one heck of a kick. It’s from Ayuri’s personal stock, hidden behind a false wall but not locked.
“Give me that!” She snatches the bottle from my other hand, leaving me with my glass as she pours herself a drink. “And how was announcing your presence on the planet by creating a public incident discreet?”
“I didn’t come into the school because I was trying,” I grumbled. “I was just waiting around. How was I supposed to know you hadn’t told them I was around?”
“You’ve been watching our broadcasts! Did you see us announce the return of our Paladins?”
“No…”
“Exactly!” Ayuri spits out.
“Oh, come on, you yourself told me that anyone who’s anyone knows I’m about. How was I supposed to know that didn’t include the police?” I say.
“I meant the powers that be! The Generals, the Space Lord, the Minister of Defense, and the noble houses.” Ayuri drains her cup, pours herself another, and growls. “Not the general public. We didn’t want them to know.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, now you want to be the public face? You want to take on the role of the Paladins properly?” The Champion’s lips curl up. “Well. Now that’s good to know.”
“I didn’t…” I flick my gaze over to where Ali is. I can’t see the Spirit of course—he’s on the other side of the wall, hovering and chatting with the other guards. But I can sense him, talk to him. “What are the usual things Paladins do?”
“What do any unbending, intrepid dreamers do?” Ali sends back to me, amusement dancing in his voice. “They go on crusades. Corruption among the nobles, in the military. Fixing injustices in the civilian population. Hunting down criminals who are too entrenched and others refuse to pursue. Righting the wrongs of the world, of course.”
My lips rise while I reply, “Doesn’t sound bad.”
“Great. I have a dozen school visits that I need done,” Ayuri says, already flicking her fingers at me.
“Uhh…” I shut dow
n the notification without looking at it.
“Oh, you mean what they do for the populace? PR. Kissing babies. Teaching inspirational speeches. You know. What the Champion was doing.”
“That isn’t going to happen. I might take on a few corrupt noble houses though.”
“I might hold you to that,” Ayuri says. “But, really. What do you want? You didn’t cause a scene like that to say hi. Or steal my kevia.”
“Is that what it’s called?” I raise the glass, sip on it, and make a mental note to add it to my shopping list. “I need a budget.”
“Budget?”
I flick my hand sideways, giving her access to the information the initiates provided me this morning. There’d been some aggressive negotiating, and I’ll go over it all once more. But in the end, I’m going to let them choose what they want. Because part of being an adult is making your own choices. And if there’s anything more adult than choosing to pursue a job that no one with any sense wants to do, I can’t think of it.
“The initiates aren’t going to survive, not as they are now. They need new Skills, new equipment. And that requires a budget,” I say. “So. Show me the money.”
Of course, Ayuri doesn’t react to that. It’s not as if it’s an Erethran thing. Funnily enough, with so many entertainment options spread across the Galaxy, the idea of memes, of a shared entertainment culture is rather fragmented. Outside of the occasional smash hit, it’s Classers—Legendaries and Heroics—who are well known and have a tendency to cross cultural lines.
“A budget…” Ayuri grins and slams back the kevia, emptying her cup. I feel a chill run through me at her smile. “I know just where to send you.”
“Uhhhh…”
***
Ayuri is banging on the residential door, one hand holding the bottle and a glass of kevia. It took her less than a minute to get here, abusing her ability to Portal around the planet to end up in this dreary, carpeted hallway. That the light brown floor moves and twitches on its own is a little disturbing, though the low light it gives off is a beautiful thing to behold. Down the hallway with its projected outdoor forest wallpaper is the sole window, showing the twinkling lights of the streets outside.