He opened and closed his fists, trying to regain circulation and get rid of the tingling numbness, and walked to the manhole. A similar picture of the tower scaffolding was on the metal door, with a lightning bolt crashing into the top. Whatever that was must have been crisped like a bug zapper. Good. Still, he wished he could see a burned corpse to calm his nerves. A confirmation that the thing was really dead. He wondered if its body was encrusted on the lightning rod now hiding under the ground.
Brushing away more sand from his face and hair, he sat on the manhole cover and looked back at the cave. It was too cold to make a permanent shelter. Plus he could be trapped inside if another creature came. He would have to give the big building another try. His stomach growled and Gus remembered he had left the visor cooking on the fire. The crab!
He scuttled back into the cave and the scent of something burned confirmed his suspicions before he got to the fire. All of the water had boiled away and the crabs on the bottom had been ruined, charred beyond salvage. Gus fished a couple crabs out of the top and managed to salvage some of them for food. The flavor was marred by the burnt ones, but he was able to pick a little meat from the small crabs.
He still felt cold, and took his meal out of the cave to eat. He sighed as the sun shone on his damp skin. Evaluating the visor, he was uncertain if it was salvageable. Nevertheless, he scooped up some seawater, and put it back inside the cave opening. It would need a good soak if he was to attempt to remove the burnt remains.
That done, he got moving, heading back toward the only semblance of civilization. He would have to eventually deal with the shield if he wanted to get off the island. Avoiding it would only prolong his stay. He was wasting too much time trying to manage survival when he needed to level. While his instincts told him to play it safe, he knew he had to take some risks or he would die.
Indecision and procrastination; his lifelong vices weren’t just bad habits, they would be deadly. He resolved to visit the manor and confront whomever was inside, and hope they didn’t attack him outright.
He thought about his near-death fight and wondered about luck. He had never felt lucky before the island, but the coincidences were stacking up. Gus retrieved his backpack and found Razorback Prime lying nearby.
“Nick, all these coincidences are a bit suspicious to me. How does the luck stat work?” He began walking back toward the hotel-like building. Maybe his luck would hold out and he could join whomever was there. He had to make it in one way or another.
“Luck is one of the least valued stats, because it does not give a concrete, measurable effect when raised. It cannot be raised by any form of training, like other stats. In your case, I am unsure if your luck stat can truly be ‘locked’ as other stats can be. Nth can limit functions that improve strength, agility, constitution, intelligence and perception based on leveling. Usually this protects the host from overreaching and hurting themselves with the thrill that leveling and stat boosting provides, until they develop and intuit their limits and capacities.
“When luck increases, however, it often appears to be random and unattributable to any particular set of circumstances. Luck is not ‘luck’ as is traditionally thought of in folklore and myth. It is the ability to consciously and subconsciously change and influence quantum possibilities. It cannot be suppressed by any outside influence, and it is largely influenced by expectation and intention. This means that if you expect to fail, reality can bend to accomplish this purpose, despite overwhelming resources. The opposite is also true. It is also difficult to quantify, as few individuals know how to utilize it to any effect, as it is related to some theoretical manipulation of forces as of yet undefined to the Nth. Unlike other stats, it is more an approximation based on your past history.”
“So, literally, check yourself or wreck yourself,” Gus said with a chuckle.
“Truer words were never spoken, Gus.”
Chapter Thirteen
Somewhere on a Beach
Day 4 2:14 PM
10:22:22 remaining
Wearily, Gus arrived back at the building. His eyes scanned for any signs of the zombies lying in wait. Bracing himself to run, he slowly approached with Razorback Prime at the ready to fend off anything that made any sudden moves.
As he stepped into the open, his mind tried to take in how much work would be necessary to keep this area as clean as it was, free from the wild encroachment of the jungle. The path began to level out again onto a cultivated lawn and the aroma of citrus and flowers wafted up to Gus’ nose. His stomach gurgled in protest at his limited diet. Some fruit would be a welcome change. He could use a little more variety.
A pergola became visible as the path turned a corner and more of the building came into view. It was covered in flowering vines so that it gave total shade to the patio with chairs underneath. More of the building was visible here, and a large section of it peeked out of the rock. Gus took it all in with awe; the amount of time to hollow out the rock to build the structure must have taken years. His eyes dropped down to the patio, which continued onward into shadow.
Meaning to make his way to the shade, Gus stepped onto the grass. With the first step, two large cylinders shot up from the edges of the lawn, sending plugs of sod skyward. Wedges of light emanated from the thin pillars and scanned up and down Gus’ body. He froze, not wanting to set off some type of alarm or defense system.
A familiar pre-Nick autotune voice spoke up from the pillars in unison, “First generation nanobots detected. No activity detected for: forty-four point three years, since completion of installation. Current status is: standby mode until claimed. Are you here to claim and activate the installation?”
“Answer ‘Yes, installation claimed by Gus Vannett, direct all command functions to this voiceprint and bioscan,’” Nick insisted in Gus’ mind.
Gus did so, and the pillars shouted, “ACKNOWLEDGED!”
“Do you wish to reallocate power to basic life support systems in the manor?”
“Sure, I mean yes,” Gus stammered.
“Acknowledged. Transferring power. Please wait while systems come online and Methiochos manor command functions are updated.” They then shot back underground as fast as they had appeared.
“Does that mean what I think it means, Nick?” Gus asked with a huge grin on his face.
“If this is how you manage with a luck stat of seven, imagine what will be possible when you level up!” Nick said, with as much unbelief as an artificial intelligence could muster.
He tried the front doors and found that they were still locked shut. Nothing for it but to wait. Gus removed his sandals and luxuriated in the softness of the grass. Despite the threat of zombies, the pylons mentioned that no one had been by the manor for over forty years. And that sod that flew up, if there had been something prowling around here, wouldn’t those have already been uncovered? The realization went a long way in putting to rest his fears that the manor was full of zombies, or that more were lurking right outside. Possibly some unseen security.
He was excited to find out what was inside the manor, but the pleasant scents of the citrus mingled with the essence of cut grass, and its utter softness was a soporific that could not be denied. Lying down in the shade, Gus drifted off effortlessly into a nap, as he let go of the day’s tensions and relaxed.
###!###
At a cave entrance a few miles away, pylons that had stood raised for years, with bright blue energy arcing between them, winked out for the first time in memory as available power was transferred to other systems. The creatures that loitered at this location raised their heads, some lazily, others with a quick snap. One blob-like creature facing the pylons blinked its many eyes as the pylons shut off, and then noiselessly sunk back into its subterranean receptacle. The blob sent a visual record of what had happened to its master below.
The One faded out of a dazed stasis. It had awaited this and had compelled the others to stand watch, remaining as motionless as possible to conserve energy. Over the
years, the few animals that strayed into the fence and were cooked as they passed through were quickly set upon and devoured by its guardians, then the sentinels returned to their vigil. The creatures began to stir as they awaited instruction from their master, the desire to hunt awakening with urgent intensity, having been suppressed too long.
###!###
Gus awoke invigorated and an old nemesis greeted him.
10 days 21 hours 49 minutes until nanobot shutdown/death
Gus hissed at the window, irritated by the obnoxious font increase. I get it already! He quickly gathered his things. Walking down the patio he could see the size of the manor, this entry tucked under a large wedge that appeared to be carved completely out of the mountain. Sharp angles and crisp architecture gave a hard, precision look that seemed out of place in contrast to the flowing smoothness of the natural curves of the island, from the soft sandy dunes by the beach to the undulating bulges of trees in the jungle nearby. A quick check showed the door was still secure. He sighed, hoping his nap would have passed enough time for everything to come online.
Off to the left, Gus could see two-hundred feet down another slope that led to the beach again. This area was on the leeward side of the island and waves crashed here with more regularity than his initial landing spot. Tiny figures could be seen moving along the beach, but the systematic pattern of their movement indicated they were not crabs or other small creatures scuttling around. When a wave would splash against the beach, the forms would be caught up in it, be carried to wherever the wave peaked and then they would resume the pattern. Gus would definitely need to check that out.
He longed to sleep in an actual bed. Hell, he’d sleep on the floor if it was dry. And maybe an actual weapon and some real clothes. There had to be a shower in there somewhere too. The storm had left him with a chill that still hadn’t totally left him, and his woven clothes were drafty as hell. Gus closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought of warm water and the simple pleasure of being clean again. That was the first priority; take care of his basic needs, then he could figure out what his next steps would be to level enough to get out from under his ten-day death sentence.
He continued fantasizing about all the possibilities that could be in the manor, and how he had taken so many simple things for granted. His job as a henchman had exposed him to all kinds of bases and super lairs. They were typically ostentatious, but often had very specialized equipment, geared to maximize the super’s strengths and compensate for their weaknesses. The possibilities were endless, and the curiosity was killing him.
“This is taking for-ev-ER,” he muttered, “how long does the manor need to power up?” He fidgeted as he tried to control his impatience.
Unable to take sitting still and waiting any longer, he wandered back toward the lawn and took in the fruit trees. There were various sorts, and they appeared to have been cultivated or managed by the manor somehow, as no rotten fruit had accumulated underneath them, and they appeared pruned and ready for harvest. Gus quickly gathered some oranges and pomegranates and dug in.
The sweet taste was wonderful. He wondered if they were truly that good, or just that he was so hungry that the flavor of things was amplified. He remembered a time he was at a scout camp and he had eaten these generic brand chili beans. They tasted so good! When he got home he had asked his father to get some. When he tried it at home, however, it had the look and taste of what he imagined dog food to be. Nothing like hunger to change how food tastes or looks!
He tossed the peels in a small pile as he ate, and after a couple minutes, a small panel opened up alongside the manor. A basketball sized contraption rolled out and moved toward him. A flap lowered and it scooped up the discarded peels. Reforming into a ball, it rolled back toward the manor. Gus threw another peel on the ground to see what would happen.
The janitor ball vibrated, and returned to scoop up the new peel. This time it waited, anticipating another piece of trash, but Gus was getting full so he gave the little robot a break. After a minute, the robot came back to life, rolled back to its chute, and disappeared.
When he was fully sated, he was basically a sticky mess. Small bugs started to fly around him, attracted to the juice. He decided to check out the beach and wash off as much as he could in the ocean. Maybe scope out some fishing sites. It would be a lot easier with line and a pole, but a lot of islanders used spears to fish, didn’t they? He’d expected he would level swimming a lot by retrieving his spear after many failed attempts.
Gus grabbed Razorback Prime and headed to the beach. Who knew how long it would take for the manor to open? Better to use the time for leveling and to get familiar with the area. As he made his way down the sandy incline, he could see that there were more spherical robots moving around the beach here, cleaning the beach from any detritus that washed in from the ocean. The waves were much shallower on this side of the island, and he kicked off his flip-flops when he was on the sand.
The beach sand, being so soft it felt like flour, reminded him of a trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas he had taken when he was very young. He mentally named this beach ‘Atlantis Beach’ as well, smiling. It reminded him of his mom. Whenever they had gone on a family vacation, it was because of Mom. She had loved tropical locales, and since she had grown up in Florida, she had also loved beaches and the ocean. Those were some of Gus’ most happy memories; that they were so long ago made the memories bittersweet. His only clear memories of her seemed to be from when he was really young.
He wasn’t sure exactly how old he had been, probably around twelve years old, when he got really sick. His father never really talked about that time, but Gus was in a coma at one point and everything was really hazy memory-wise for that time frame. Something also happened to his mom during that time too, but Tempest wouldn’t talk about it. She had powers too, but Gus couldn’t remember what exactly they were. He often wondered if she had some kind of healing powers or emotional manipulation or it was just her presence that made him feel good. He got the impression she went out on a mission and never came back. One of the risks of the job for a super.
The times after Mom was gone were more difficult for Gus. Teenage angst mingled with the change in family dynamic had caused more arguments and isolation from his father. It was around that time Gus began to prefer to call his father Tempest when he shifted more into his stern, unyielding super persona. Mom had earned her title, but it was hard for Gus to refer to him as Dad.
Tempest wanted Gus to move past it. Suck it up. Man up. A familiar anger bubbled to the surface when he remembered that time. I was a kid! I shouldn’t have to ‘suck it up’ when I’ve lost my mom! By the time Gus became cognizant of the world again, she had been gone for about a year.
Gus’ brother Cyclone was out of the house being a good little super, just like Tempest wanted. Gus’ eyes burned and his throat tightened as emotions swelled thinking about his mom. Gus blinked and cleared his throat, trying to overcome the negative feelings by removing how they affected him physically. He shook his tightened jaw muscles to loosen them, unaware he had been clenching, turning again to the beach to stop focusing on the distressing memory.
To the left of the beach-ball robots, there was a cluster of large rocks that could be climbed from the beach. Small pink flowers and yellow lichen covered the rocks, and somehow, these were surprisingly free of bird droppings. The shape of the island created a small inlet here and the water was much more still around the rocks. He rinsed the stickiness of the fruit off his hands and decided to attempt a little fishing for dinner.
He figured he was pretty rusty at fishing and it might take a couple hours to catch anything. He cleaned the remaining oily residue that had stuck to the blade after killing the zombie, making sure nothing was there that he would accidentally ingest. To not be impeded when swimming, Gus kept only his shorts made from the space suit.
He climbed the rocks that were by the water’s edge and found a flat smooth area about six feet up on the shade
d side of the rocks. Gus peered down into the clear blue water. Fish of different types swam lazily in this deeper area. Gus readied his spear, aimed at one of the fish, and let loose. The spear deflected when it hit the water and lost some momentum, allowing the fish time to move. Gus dove in and retrieved his spear. After about five more attempts, he decided to change tactics. He found a shallower area near the rocks where the fish continued to dart around.
He had to move to the other side of the rock to find an area in the water with fish that also allowed him to stand up to his mid thigh in the water. He held the spear out of the water and stabbed it down, but had a similar lack of success. There was just too much time between his movement of the spear to when it would hit the fish—always allowing the fish to dart away. Gus had to stand still and wait for the fish to relax and come back.
This time he kept the spear head underwater and with a quick jab he was able to spear his first fish. A quiet tone sounded.
You have upgraded your skill Fishing to Level 2!
Increased chance to catch fish with all methods: 2%
50 XP awarded
No XP awarded for new foods after host level 3 is reached.
140 XP to level 4
Gus flung the fish to the beach; he would clean it later. Lowering the blade of Razorback Prime back into the water, he waited. It took longer for the fish to return, and the reflection of the sun on the lapping waves was hard on his eyes. He would occasionally have to blink them closed after he received an especially bright flash. Then he remembered his grandpa’s advice about shadows. Moving to a different location, he managed to spear two more fish.
Deciding three was enough, he got to cleaning them and preparing them to cook. His grandfather had taken him out fishing when he went to visit him. Gus remembered those times in his pre-teens. When Tempest was off doing Purple Faction business after Mom was gone, Grandpa agreed to take him in for a couple weeks. He could tell it took a lot for his father to finally run out of options and allow Gus to go to his grandpa’s, though Gus couldn’t tell why.
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