Milton was encouraged by the fact that Brint didn’t faint or lose it by the appearance of his BBQ. He was also pleased to see that he seemed to be straining to control the giant lizard, further granting evidence to his theory that it would be harder to control larger creatures. Everything was going fine until he felt a kind of “reverberation” throughout the neural communication network, originating from his BBQ and bouncing through his nearby units. Worried that it was some sort of surprise attack, he had just pulled up his tactical map to see if any other units had been compromised when he heard screaming coming from Brint.
He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but Milton was worried that he had done something to further hurt the young man. With genuine concern in his voice, he asked Brint what had happened, only to get an explanation that actually made sense. The neural feedback from the broken connection, when not powered by his ability, must have been intense. Milton fortunately didn’t have to worry about that, since his reactor power was constantly running, meaning that he had an almost infinite and steady amount of power – albeit at a much-reduced rate until it was repaired back to normal.
Brint seemed drained, which made sense if he had been completely tapped out of power. There were a few games that he had played that if you fully ran out of mana, or some other type of magic, you would acquire a debuff or two affecting your speed/mana regeneration/health. It appeared that those games might have been a real-life reflection of actual power management. Milton was debating what to do with Brint next, since he was a little wary of releasing him back with knowledge of his existence. He didn’t want to kill him, but he wasn’t sure holding him here would be the right answer either.
Current Short-term Goal: Mysterious Stranger – Complete!
Who is this mysterious Proctan? How did he do what he did? Bring him back and interrogate him.
- Bring the Proctan back to your dungeon – Complete!
- Find out what he knows – Complete!
- Assess if he is a threat – Complete!
Difficulty of Goal: Easy
Timeframe: 2 Days
Rewards: Knowledge – ‘nuff said.
Then he heard something which piqued his interest. What the heck is a Power Potion? I wonder if that’s like a mana potion? He asked Brint the question and the young man looked so wiped that he almost told him not to worry about it, but stopped as the explanation emerged with an uncaring, defeated, mechanical tone – as if he was reciting something from memory. I’ve really got to get him fixed up soon – that wrist has got to be killing him.
“The Power Potion was created almost 80 years ago, when an Inventor by the name of Cordelious discovered where all the power and abilities in everyone came from. Cordelious found that all the fresh water pulled up from the ground had a certain ‘residue’ in it that caused changes in Proctan physiology. He experimented and found that power could be ‘regenerated’ faster if the subject drank massive quantities of water.
“Further experimentation ended up with the creation of ‘Power Potions’, small vials of concentrated ‘residue’ or ‘power’, that when ingested could rapidly refill anyone’s power pool. The effort in creating these potions is tremendous, and while the methods aren’t secret by any means, the amount of material and time needed to make enough concentrated ‘power’ for each potion isn’t cost-effective for most people – for me, it would probably take a decade of more of saving up to afford them. With a monopoly in the ‘Power Potion’ trade, the Cordpower Company is only place you can buy them from, and as a result they are probably the most powerful entity besides the government.”
If Milton had had eyes, they would have been staring at ALANNA in shock. “Well, there’s our fucking proof. It looks like they’ve been fucking distilling mass quantities of water to accumulate enough of your radiation to concentrate into drinkable potions,” she said, but then began laughing. “Essentially, they prize your piss and shit as a valuable resource!” It took a moment for the image to come to mind, but once it did, Milton started laughing like a maniac as well. He realized that he was still “connected” to Brint, and he started laughing harder when he realized that he probably sounded like a crazy mad supervillain or something.
He created a small glass vial and rubber stopper in his Converter using some of his stored-up material and had ones of his nearby drones fill it with water flowing near the damaged section of his shell. The drone then brought worked its way out of the dungeon and down to Brints’ holding cell. The exhausted and pain-filled Proctan barely acknowledged the sight of the his strange-looking drone, but his eyes lit up at what it was carrying. He’s probably dehydrated as well – when I fix him up I’ll make sure he gets some food and water.
Brint snatched the vial away from the drone and instantly downed it before Milton could even say anything – the reaction said it all anyway. His eyes opened wide in shock and his whole carriage seemed to improve from its formerly wasted state. He stood up, looked at the floating sensor orb and used his ability to move it from side to side. Milton shared the look of excitement and wonder on his face, as an inkling of a plan started to form…
Chapter 34 – The Milton
Brint was walking back to the village, the morning sun dimly shining through the trees as he made his way through the edge of the forest bordering the fields. He couldn’t believe that he had only been away less than full day – so much had happened. Looking at his wrist, he marveled at the fact that it was fully healed, without even a hint that it had been severely broken only a couple of hours ago. Not only that, but all the usual aches and pains that he had woken up with every day for the last couple of years were gone, as if they were never there. His feet were beginning to get tired from the walk out from the forest, but that was only to be expected.
He could “feel” his escort of three giant lizards – which The Milton in his head had called BBQs for some reason – break off as he entered the safer territory surrounding his village. When his wounds had been healed, without the constant pain he found he could sense when the various creatures under the control of The Milton were around, even if he didn’t fully connect with them.
As he walked through the last couple of trees, he felt for the cloth bag against his side, checking for probably the thousandth time to make sure it was still there and secure. A few muted clinks of glass responded to his attention, reassuring him that everything was there and accounted for. He was carrying a literal fortune in there and he didn’t want to lose it.
After he had marginally recovered from the “neural connection feedback” that The Milton called it, he was further astonished at what had happened next. He was so thirsty that as soon as he saw the strange metal-creature approach with water, he snatched it and downed it in one gulp. To his surprise, he felt a wash of heat infuse his body that originated from his stomach and converged on his head. The previously empty pool of power that had been draining his energy was suddenly full, or as full as his new experience with his ability could tell him. After testing out his newly-filled power, he felt as though he could go all day and not run out – but he didn’t want to test that theory yet.
From there, it was a whirlwind of information and other new experiences. The metal-covered creature that had delivered the Power Potion was joined by five of its brethren while the giant lizard and squirrel left through the entrance in which they had arrived. The six “drones” – as he soon learned they were called – dug and cut their way through the opposite wall and started creating a simple dirt tunnel, reinforced by periodic beams of stone along the ceiling which another drone periodically dropped off for their use.
While he followed along, staying out of the way of the working drones, he learned a little about the voice in his head. It called itself Milton, but he could only think of it as The Milton for some reason – anything other than that just seemed strange. He learned, but was still confused by the terminology, that he had the ability to neurally communicate with the creatures that were created by the Milton.
Although he could manipulate the creatures with direct control, he also was taught that if he just gave them orders they would follow them without having to direct their every movement. The Milton was much more powerful than him and could erase any orders that were given, but Brint didn’t care as he now knew that he wasn’t “useless” and had an ability after all.
Brint also had the chance to teach The Milton, because he learned that the seemingly all-powerful voice in his head had very little knowledge of the outside world. He told him about how everyone could increase the strength of their ability through constant use – something that had to do with the efficiency in power management or something like that. He didn’t pay too much attention to that in school since he didn’t have anything to practice with.
By the time they had reached their destination, he had given The Milton a general lay of the land outside his village, the political climate (at least as much as he knew), and what he knew about metal – which wasn’t a lot. He explained that most their metal they used for weapons and armor, along with other things like the inventions Whisp created, came from Elemental Casters who could sense and pull up ore deposits from the ground. Some specialized casters could manipulate fire and heat much better than others and were usually in charge of smelting the ore for use by other people. He wasn’t sure of all the information that was asked of him, since he dealt with foodstuffs most of the time, but he told him as much as he was able.
When he entered the room they had tunneled to, he was flabbergasted at the huge machine in the middle of the floor. It was nearly 15 feet tall, had a large metal cylindrical contraption on top of a metal frame with an empty pool beneath it. There was a ramp that circled its way up to the top of the cylinder, allowing access to whatever was inside it.
“I want to heal your wrist, but to do that, I need you inside my Biological Laboratory to repair the damage. Just walk to the top and jump in – I’ll handle the rest.”
He nervously approached the bottom of the ramp, unsure of what was happening. He hesitated before stepping on the metal pathway, his courage failing him as he looked toward the top of the strange contraption.
“It’s perfectly safe – although OSHA would probably shut me down because there are no handrails along the edge of the ramp. Just stay away from the edge and you should be fine.”
Brint wasn’t sure what this OSHA was, but The Milton had said so much that didn’t make sense that he ignored it. Gathering what shreds of courage that he still had, he slowly walked up the steep ramp, the tread along the pathway rough enough that he had no worry of slipping back down. When he reached the top and looked inside the large cylinder, he stepped back as he saw that it was filled almost to the top with water. Does he want me to drown? I can’t swim that well because of my broken wrist. As if the Milton had heard him, the voice in his head tried to reassure him – with mixed results.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you drown – if I wanted to kill you before this I had plenty of opportunity. But you need to be in the water for the healing to work.”
That’s great knowing he could have killed me at any time before this. Nonetheless, his wrist was killing him with a constant sharp nagging pain and he was willing to do almost anything to get it to stop. He carefully sat down at the edge of the cylinder and slowly lowered himself down into the water, slipping at the last moment so that he was fully submerged for just a moment. That moment was apparently all that was needed as he felt the water somehow solidify around him, still clear and surprisingly warm but it felt as though he had fallen into giant bowl of jelly that was flash-frozen. He couldn’t even breathe, and after panicking he realized that he didn’t feel like he was suffocating – almost as if time had stopped around him.
Brint felt tingles all around his body, concentrating on his wrist but all along his legs, arms, and back as well. There were even some tingles around his head and face, causing him to want to sneeze but couldn’t when it tickled his nose. He realized that his face had been hurt at some point in the last day, but was unaware of it until now since the pain in his wrist masked his inconsequential injuries. The passage of time was hard to judge in that suspended state, but after what he reasoned was only a couple of minutes he felt the water “unfreeze” and rapidly empty out the bottom of the cylinder, taking him along for the ride.
Landing with a splash in the already full pool underneath the machine, he stood up in the shallow water as he saw the water quickly receding as it was sucked back up through a series of tubes to be returned to the cylinder up above. He was soaking wet, but at least he wasn’t cold and now his clothes were relatively clean. Waves of heat started emanating from above him, and when he looked up he could see a series of metal coils on the underside of the machine that had a red glow. It was hot, but not unbearable, and he felt the water slowly drying while he stood there dripping.
Grabbing his shirt with his left hand to look at how wet it still was, he stared at his wrist and was stunned that he felt no pain from it. When he thought about it, he couldn’t feel any discomfort anywhere, which was a rather unique experience lately since he usually had to work through the day with at least some sore muscles.
When he was done drying he climbed out of the shallow pool and felt better than he had in years – and that was when his stomach rumbled in hunger. Again, somehow anticipating this, a drone entered the room from a different direction than the one they had arrived from, bringing in its thin, fragile-appearing arms a tray laden with food and a pitcher of water with a small glass cup next to it.
“I apologize for my absent hospitality before, I couldn’t be sure if you were a threat. Please eat up – if you need more please let me know, there is plenty more where that came from.”
Brint thanked the Milton and took the tray from the patiently waiting drone. He sat down, placing the tray on his lap, too hungry and thirsty to consider where the food may have come from. Pouring himself a large glass of water, he was expecting to feel the rush of power that had accompanied his last drink but was only slightly disappointed – it was just normal water. He chugged it down, spluttering a little as he tried to drink too much at once, before slowing down as he felt the dryness in his throat disappear. He turned to his food and stopped when he wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
“I envy you – I made you a meal of a cheeseburger and fries. It was kind of a staple back…home. I wish I could enjoy it like you’re about to. It’s made from pork instead of beef, because I don’t have access to any cows here. I just recently acquired some pork, though, thanks to you.”
Confusion clouded Brint’s mind as he considered the Milton’s words. Back…home? I guess that means that he’s not from around here – which should have been obvious considering how ignorant he is of the world outside of…wherever this is. He picked up what he figured was the “cheeseburger”, what looked like a large roll cut in half with a piece of meat in between. A still-warm gooey yellow substance ran down the sides of it, and when he brought it up to his nose it smelled…interesting. He took a bite and juicy flavor filled his mouth, the taste of which seemed familiar. It took him a moment before he realized what it was, thinking, Ah, that’s what he meant about “thanks to you” – this tastes just like Picow.
Knowing that he was eating something that was at least familiar, he dug into the rest of the meal, barely pausing as he tasted the “fries”. They were crunchy on the outside but soft in the middle, with a starchiness to them that quickly filled him up. He wasn’t used to eating so much; he didn’t usually have the same appetite as most of the ability-users back in the village.
When he finished the delicious meal, he put the tray down and the Milton spoke to him again.
“I have a proposition for you. I can provide you vials of this “Power Potion” you tried, and you can do with them whatever you want – sell them, give them away, or use them yourself.”
Unsure why the Milton was being so generous giving away valuable commodities, he figured there was a catch – there
was always a catch. He was just waiting for the “but”.
“But,”
There it is!
“I need two things from you. The first, which may actually be the hardest of the two – I need you to swear to complete secrecy about this location, my creatures, and about my existence. I don’t need a bunch of people snooping around here. The second, which should hopefully be easy, is I need you to provide a shipment of metal – raw ore deposits, smelted ore, or finished products – it doesn’t matter. Whatever you think these vials are worth to you, but as much as you can easily acquire. If you leave it in the forest near the border of the village in a cart or wagon I can bring it back to my location, where I will then bring it back empty for you to reuse again. I can keep providing you these potions in return for more metal – it’s your choice. Either way, I will still need you to keep my existence a secret.”
To say that he jumped at the chance was an understatement. Just one of the vials, if sold, would provide enough to purchase a whole wagon or two of metal. Even though he wasn’t blessed with a vast intelligence like Whisp, he knew this wasn’t something that he wanted to pass up – it was almost pure profit. He wasn’t greedy, but he also didn’t want to live in the same rundown shack for the rest of his life.
So, here he was, walking across the same field he had crossed yesterday while running after the Picow. He didn’t see anyone, which wasn’t surprising, but he did see that someone had finished his work inside the processing shed. The village didn’t have a lot of extra labor running around so either the mayor payed to have some expert help or everyone chipped in to complete the days’ harvest. He was curious about who was working on it today without him here, but he was more intent on getting back to the village.
The Station Core: A Dungeon Core Epic (Station Cores Book 1) Page 24