by P. S. Power
Everyone else was off in the distance, picking through the ruins of their lives. Most didn’t seem to have a lot left.
The city tall military man walked over to him directly.
“I’m Major Jones. From the Army’s building section. Thought that I’d come in and look at the needs here, personally. Are you in charge here?”
He shook his head.
“No. I’m just doing some work for the High Servants. None of them could make it. Tied up with other things, so I was asked to see if I could do anything. We’ll have food support and a place for people to stay. The big building. I’m going to be in the smaller place, if anyone needs me. Oh… Albert Benoist. Pleased to meet you.”
There was another bow.
“You, as well, Mr. Benoist.”
That got a wave, since he wasn’t his father or important to the world.
“Albert.”
The man froze for a bit, then smiled.
“I’m Swarley. Major, in front of the men though. Otherwise they’ll forget I’m supposed to be important. We can’t have that. If I don’t seem half god, they won’t respect my orders.” There was an odd smile, that wasn’t explained at all. Also, a gesture at the magical housing that had been provided.
“That’s quick work. Normally after something like this people would be in tents for a month or two. If we were brought in that fast at all. It isn’t unheard of for us not to be put to work for the first half year or more. We can get things done fast, if we’re here. Do we get food support, too?” The man had a hopeful expression then. As if that were something that might be useful.
Albert thought for a bit, then nodded.
“For the mid-day meal, or others, if the men are here working, longer than that. It won’t cost anything, since I have food units for it. Those… Need to be guarded. I don’t want to claim that anyone is going to do anything wrong, but I just had a man try to walk off with a Tam-car. A former Space Fleet ship guard, if he could be believed. I had to call him names in public and accuse him of theft to get the amulet back.” Closing his eyes, Al winced. “I also forgot to pay some people. Just some herbs and that kind of thing, for having driven the Tam-cars from the fire base to the town the fighters live in. I…”
There was no way in any world that Major Jones was going to have anything to do with fixing that sort of issue. The trouble with it was that he’d given his word to provide the things and there was no hardship for him to have done it. He’d merely gotten distracted and everyone had walked off.
Still, the military man was helpful, as he looked around the mainly ruined town.
“Just make up the payment packs and send it off to the mayor of the place. He or she will do the work then. Do you have names for the ones getting paid? For that matter, do you have one for the would-be thief? That needs to be dealt with. Even if he gave it back in the end, it sounds like he tried to steal from whoever owns that Tam-car. Is that you or…” There was a covert glance back at the buildings, the man being clever enough to realize that a humble looking fellow in plain workman’s brown might not own that kind of thing in his own person.
Taking a deep breath, Albert coughed a bit. His lungs weren’t perfectly clear, thanks to the smoke. Healing would fix that, but he didn’t want the accella to be burned off yet. It was probably all that was keeping him going, at the moment.
“The Ancient of Soam, Taman Baker. I borrowed them from her, for the emergency, just to get people back to their homes.”
“Ouch. That’s big then. Even if the man was just trying to steal for the High Servants or from you… Well, the kind of person that can bring all this to bear isn’t someone to trifle with, are they? If he’s willing to do that, he won’t just have the one crime to his name. Still, you don’t have to deal with it today. We should get a plan in place. Are we just replacing the homes? That’s normally what we do, even if this will only be four or five days of work for us. Focus stone building is quick, since we use dirt for it. That’s not hard to find, most places. We have high level craftsmen, too, so they can do almost anything. No real orders. We’re just being sent here to fix things.”
The words were nearly sly seeming. As if there was a plan in place to do a lot more than what they’d been asked for.
So, he nodded at the black clad military man. After all, there was no reason for the town not to get a little extra, if it could be done inside the rules. Outside of them, too, if they could do it without being caught at it.
“Homes to replace those lost, though I’d like the floor space to be increased. Can you do multiple levels? I’m not up on how that works, to be honest.” In Second City he just swept floors, but he was aware how they could put in multiple levels inside a home. They used a different method for most of the building though, since a lot of it was underground. It was more about using magic to move things out of the way rather than adding to them.
The man turned and looked off at the ruins. Nothing was smoking, but a lot of them were just blackened husks, sitting on piles of ash and the lumpy remains of people’s lives. They’d lost more than just places to live. Some of the things wouldn’t be easily replaced, either. The food they had built up for winter would be gone for instance. Given the area, a lot of that was probably unreplaceable wheat. That, as much as grass, was what had been burning. Some jars of things might have survived, but the packs of dried goods, sugar and flour would all be gone already. Even the storage bins would be tainted with smoke, or broken open for bugs to have gotten into, for the most part.
Meaning that these people were in for a rough year, or more, trying to get their feet back under them, thanks to less than a day of tragedy. On the good side, the little Tiera-food units could make their own containers. That would take a lot of work, and help, if he was going to outfit an entire town with enough to keep them for that long.
It could be done though.
“Can we replace the granaries, the public buildings and all that? Maybe a nice bath house as well?” It was a lot to ask for. The other man just started to nod.
“We can. We have a limited time window, though the time allotted will go up if we can feed the men without it costing the King anything. I can spare a guard or two for the magics, as well, if that helps? What kind of food devices do you have? The big kind? Those are rare.”
They were, probably. Technically he did have some of those. Two of them, in fact. They needed to go back to the High Servant, though. They wouldn’t make their own containers, though if they could find or buy some sacks or barrels, a lot of things could be built up a lot faster, using that sort of thing.
He felt uneasy about it, wanting to get the things back to the depot before he had to pay for them. That wasn’t happening at all, so couldn’t be allowed to take place. Just thinking about it left him feeling almost panicked, even if nothing had taken place like that. Yet.
People there would need things though.
“I have two of them, from the High Servants. Some Tiera food units as well, from her hand directly. On loan. Hence…”
There was a low whistle from Jones.
“Right. Right. An armed squad for that then. How did you get all of that? Or, should I not ask? Never mind. I’m not certain I can survive knowing that kind of thing. I’ll have the men here and starting into work in… Call it half an hour? If that serves, my Lord.”
He nodded and waved at the other man.
“Albert. Al, if you want.”
That got a laugh.
“Sure. Sure. The man that orders Master Tor and the Heir himself to fly in a transport pod that comes directly from the hand of Prince Dareg wants to be called Al? Who am I to disagree? Best we not point that out to the men though, if we’re getting any work done. They’ll spend half their time trying to be your servant instead of doing their jobs. Al.”
He didn’t inform the man that he normally swept floors for a living. He wasn’t lying about who he was at all. That didn't mean it wasn’t nice to be thought a bit more than he really was.
“We could also have food bins of some kind? I don’t know how to buy those here.” He could, possibly, make something like fine spices to trade. That or beg Master Tor for coin for it. Albert didn’t want to do that last one though, if it was possible. Magic could be returned, gold would simply go away.
Giving him a nod, Major Jones seemed serious for a moment.
“I can put one of the teams on that, to start with. Focus stone makes great containers. Let me get to that. I’ll not be in myself, most of the time. I’ll just have the commanders come and see you, if they need anything or have questions?”
“That sounds right. I need to sleep soon though. I’m on drugs to keep me awake. If I heal, then I’m going out.” He waved at his own face, since it was tender in places.
“Ah. I’d wondered on that part. Send word if you need me for anything. Will you be awake for a while yet?”
He nodded, since the accella wasn’t wearing off for half a day or more, if he didn’t make it.
“I should be awake for a time. A few hours?”
There was a bow then, which went low. Albert matched it. After all, the other man was the one with the workers they needed. Making him upset would be a poor plan. Plus, a military man might be able to get past his shield, just to beat him, if he wasn’t careful. One way to do that would simply be pointing out that him having such a thing was illegal there. That wouldn’t even take clever magical skill or power to make happen. Just a pointed finger and some calling out.
Jones left then, going through the small red hut door. Almost as soon as that took place an older woman, who’d been standing nearly a hundred feet away, wearing a soot covered blue dress with a matching shirt, her hair tied up with a cloth that had clearly been used to clean things in the last day, moved over to him.
Taking a few steps, and bowing, then doing it again, bending in half as she approached, over and over again. So that he could send her away, before she got too close, it seemed. He simply waved at her, then bowed when she finally got close, going halfway down.
“Sir? I’m Enid Weaver. More or less the head woman here for Smiton. We noticed that there was a new building or two and one of the red magic little houses. No one as right told us what that means though, if we’re allowed to know such, sir.”
That made sense after a fashion. After all, they were just the people that had lost everything. Probably some relatives as well, if ten were dead and the whole place there had been put to fire like it seemed. Then, the oversight was probably his, he realized. Not that he was important, just that, for some strange reason, no one else was actually in charge of the efforts there.
The military would be, when they got there.
“The large place is for all of you to stay in. It has water, showers, beds and rooms for everyone to stay in. We’ll have food here, in a moment. I need to set up for that. Outside, since I need to make sure that the military men that are coming have food as well. The focus stone builders of King Richard. He’s sending them himself, to help you rebuild Smiton. The High Servants sent large food units we can use to rebuild the lost food stores. We’ll want to move fast, but if we all work, those who can, then we should have enough for you to last the winter into the next summer. Anyone too injured to work…”
He made a hard face then, feeling stupid. The woman shied away from him, as if expecting something bad from him. About the poor injured people.
“I should have led with that. If they’re injured, I need to attend to them first. I have a healing amulet. Or…” He sighed then, since it was the one from the club, not personal property. “I can lend that to you for that. I only have the one, so I’ll need it back. It isn’t mine.”
That got wide eyes.
“Thank you. About half here have burns. Some few have broken bones. No one as that lived is too bad off that way. Some might not use their hands again, without healing, proper like.” She seemed bleak, but accepting of that fact.
Digging the amulet from his pocket, Albert nodded at the woman.
“Here, take it then. I should have said that first thing. I’ll handle the rest of this.” Somehow. First, grimacing, he showed her how to use it. Just in case.
“Turn it on with a tap and by wanting it to go on. Then hold it to the injured person. You probably know that, but just in case.” It was in his hand, so healed him. His wounds weren’t bad, so went away, over the course of about a minute. Turning it off, feeling suddenly like he couldn’t prevent sleep from taking him, he passed the thing over.
“Now do you.” He just wanted to make certain the woman understood how the thing worked. It seemed she had hidden wounds, since she straightened after nearly three times as long as the work had taken for him, and closed her eyes.
“These are hard to find. It won’t leave my hand and it shall be returned to you. I swear it. I should go now, if allowed?” She started to bow again, which he did first, going low.
“Thank you, Headwoman. Go, please.”
She actually ran off then, carrying the incredibly expensive magic with her. A thing that he’d probably be spending half his life paying for in work, once he got back home. Not that anyone truly kept track of such debts. Thankfully.
Hurrying, he set up three of the food units. The two big ones, along with the one Tiera designed one. It was done in front of his little building, the one with his name on it, since he was able to make tables there, without being in the way. His eyes wanted to close, so, being smart, he went to the floating box that held all the magics from the High Servants, and the remaining drugs, and took two more accella. It didn't work instantly, so for a while he had to fight to not go down, yawning as he filled the hopper on the various food magics. The big white colored ones that the Wizard Tim had made and the smaller pearl colored one the the former Queen of the Moon had lent them.
Then he started making food for people. A lot of it, just creating things, wrapped in light brown paper, and in silver beverage cans, with more variety than he had the day before or even earlier for the Count and his family. It was just for the first meal, since he had plates and cups, for a more formal meal, once people were there to get their own needs taken care of.
After a while, almost at the same time, groups of four or five men wearing black military uniforms started to come out of the little house, while towns people walked toward him, looking a bit shy. Albert just smiled, and bowed. Everyone did it back. All of them.
“There’s food and drink on the tables over here. Help yourself. No need to ask or anything. If any of you still need healing, please see Enid Weaver. She’s the headwoman here, for you military types. I think Major Jones wanted all the homes rebuilt, with a bit of extra space. Multiple levels and that kind of thing? Pipes for water or however that works, if possible, since people will have to live in them. Make them to the specifications that you’d want for yourselves? Come get me if you need anything. I’m Albert.” He waved at the sign, so that everyone would know where to go for that kind of thing.
People moved then, either efficiently off to work on rebuilding things, or to get some food. He didn’t have to ask anyone to help him run the devices, once people were fed. They just started in. using shovels to pack dirt into the devices, almost constantly. As if their lives depended on it.
One of the groups that came through simply stood by the machines, with weapons in their hands. That stopped the work for a minute, until one of the young men, a red head, smiled at the town people.
“We’re just here to protect the magic. Don’t mind us. This is here for you all to use. If anyone comes and tries to steal it from you, they have to fight us for the privilege. That’s all.”
Those words seemed to be enough for everyone. At least until one of the military men walked over to him. The gentleman had been out in the town already and then come back. The man, who was older and had a mustache, which was dark, even though most of his head was bald, bowed. It was polite, without being servile.
“You need a sewer system put in.
That will take a processing facility as well. My sub-unit specializes in doing just that. We also have the other teams making water toilets in each place as it goes up. A water tower will be needed for it all to work, unfortunately. Easy enough to make the cisterns and all that. What we don’t have is any way to pump water to it. Can you set that up?” The man didn’t seem to think that was likely.
Which made perfect sense. Water pumping systems were a thing and even used in places on the Moon. They weren’t cheap though, in Noram. Worse, he couldn’t even claim that he was just borrowing things from whoever he got them from. Whatever they put in would have to stay. Wincing, he nodded.
“I’ll find something. Somehow. I might have to finally take to being a whore to get it done, of course. That’s going to be a slow process, given my looks.” It was the accella talking, he knew. Making him feel confident when he shouldn’t have been. “It could take a bit, to get that in. I just have to figure out how to bribe the right wizards. You and your men are available for sex, right? Otherwise paying for this might take far too long.” He was being crude, but it worked, the man laughing, gently.
“That’s always the trouble, isn’t it? We’re willing to do our part, but most of us didn't go military because of our good looks. Focus stone is near useless for building windmills and old-style pumps or we’d do that. We can make a building for it, and the pipe system but that’s about all. We’ll do the rest though. Get those pumps in and we’ll all look a lot better in the end.”
That was probably just true.
“Right. Let me make some calls and beg then? Not that I know where to start, for something like this.”
He was already in debt to four or five people that repaying wasn’t going to happen easily with. Still, he shrugged and pulled his handheld, then, taking a deep breath, found Dareg Canton’s name. A Prince of Noram. Also, a man that had said to call him Dare and asked him to keep in touch, regularly. Like friends.