by G Aliaksei C
“Did you recover the object on my arm?”
“You mean the bomb? Yes Mr. Frost, the remnants are in your lab.”
“It’s not a bomb, Jim!” I threw on my armored coat and stumbled out. This time I decided to take a walk instead of riding the tank, enjoying the view. The Menu told me I was knocked out for another day. I used the walk to the wall to check my messages. Already I had spam from various companies trying to sell me all sorts of gear. There was a premade filter which I activated, and the inbox emptied out, save for a single message. Rarus was wondering how I was doing and asking if I was interested in another raid. I replied cryptically - I was doing well, and needed an address to send a package.
Entering the grouping of growing residences closer to the wall I stopped by the ‘Cafe’ I had been in earlier. Someone had finished setting up the inside, completing the establishment with semi-wooden furniture. The counter was manned by an older gentleman with gray hair and a glorious mustache. The mustache smiled at me.
“Mr. Frost.” The man’s name was Vili. He was something like a left-hand man to the Lady of War - I had seen him at the table along with the other villagers. “Quite the fireworks display you produced yesterday. What would the Corporate lord like today?”
“No-question-topping on that sandwich please.”
The sandwich tasted good, and so did the coffee he offered me. My only complaint was directed at the bread - it tasted strange and artificial. As I ate, I spotted a partially closed door behind the counter. Racks of weapons were visible through the crack.
Was I surprised the villagers had their own armory? No. Not on a ringworld where it rained fire and ice.
The sight outside the wall was a concerning yet pleasing one - an oval crater decorated my proverbial front lawn. The rain washed the edges of the hole down but did little to diminish the damage.
I measured the dimensions of the impact site, as well as the area of burned-out grass near where I activated the bracelet. I was impressed with myself - my calculations were damn near the intended factor of power, accounting for the misdirected backflash. I would need to correct the blowback issue, but the system had proven itself.
It could, at the very least, harm something!
Inna jumped off the wall and landed next to me as I headed back inside. For a fraction of a second I saw armor appear around her legs, softening the fall, and disappear as soon as she came to rest. I was impressed - she was wearing her armor all the time, but it only existed when she needed it. I had read about it - Phase Gear, always worn, but existing only sometimes. Exclusive Class 9 technology. The dimensional shifting required to make the system work was complex, but within my understanding. That meant I couldn’t replicate the effect, but definitely could appreciate it.
“Mr. Frost! I thought you were going to try and blow down my dome again.”
“Inna.” I turned back towards the wall.
“I have been meaning to ask. How did you come to be here? On the Rings, I mean.”
I pointed at the black pillar in the center of the base. The Monument remained unchanged and uncaring as always. “Last thing I recall, a sleeper agent shoots me dead. Next, I open my eyes next to that fucking pillar, with a flask and knife in my pocket.”
“This was before the Fall of Earth?” I shrugged, not knowing what in the void of space the ‘Fall of Earth’ was. “That explains why we saw you coming back from the Monument, but not leaving for it first. Did you check what else it does beyond summoning long-dead old-Earth Corporate?”
“The obelisk seems to be just that - a pillar of metal.”
She let the topic go. “So why the suicidal bomb testing?”
“Trying to catch up on modern tech and make some money. I want to quietly distribute several bracelets when they are done, with my mark and instructions on how to use it. Once people figure out what this trinket can do, they will hopefully start trying to find where it came from. They won’t. They will, however, figure out what mark to look for on equipment to know it’s mine. Just a simple marketing strategy.”
“You want to sell wrist bombs?”
“More like wrist claymores,” I joked back. “And I have some ideas for other items that I want to start producing.” I glanced back at the village. “Do your people need any help setting up?”
“No Drake, we are fine. Most of us here are rich, old, and bored out of our minds. The more that happens, the better for us.”
“I welcome company, as long as they put up with an occasional shockwave.”
“There is also the matter of our collective, prolonged survival.” I frowned. “Drake, this location is not only isolated, but it’s also between two Hotzones. We’ve had to fend off several attacks while you were out. Worse, the bio-Beasts and machines are symbiotic, and the result is quite a bit more advanced than if we had to face them individually. The longer we stay, the more interesting we will become to the local fauna.”
“I will need several days before I can afford additional defenses.”
“It is also a matter of personnel. There are twenty of us from the Gate town, twenty Jims, and one of… you. That is little for a fortress of this size.”
I shrugged. “It’s what we have.” The tank drove up to our side, and I climbed on. “Talk to you later Inna.” The engine roared, and the tank rushed ahead, back to my bunker.
I would do my best with what I had.
In the next two days I managed to construct a gravity umbrella, a barrier to shield the user from the backblast. The rest of the cylindrical gauntlet got compressed, optimized and minimized. Hand-woven wiring got replaced with fabricated parts of custom design that performed the same function in a tenth of the size. Armed with a finalized design I could now set up the printers and fabricators to begin producing more massed production.
The second prototype was infinitely more elegant, a large bracelet with three solid parts connected by flexible bands. Each solid square had a Gem sticking out of it. On the inner side, under the rubber buffer, I engraved small letters.
I had created a new form of weapon, if not one with any original means of applying damage. In olden times, before The War, such an effort would have taken weeks or months. Luckily that time was substantially cut thanks to the advanced fabricator technology available on the Rings. The fabricator took in constraints like mass, size, durability and general layout. It then created an optimized design, based on the quality of the fabricator, and built it in a matter of hours. I had to do little more than tell it what I wanted and provide the parts. Said parts were the most expensive details of the whole project, as they had to be delivered via freighter and dropped on my head from space. But with a complete design and plentiful resources the machine could hum away through the night, assembling the sections of the weapon while I slept.
After a short nap I left my bunker once more. Inna was already on the tank as it drove up to the door.
“Should we take cover again?”
“Might be a good idea every time he steps out of the bunker.”
Jim began jogging next to the transport, his heavy steps crushing rock and dirt. I climbed atop and handed Inna one of the bracelets.
She extended her hand, holding the weapon at arm’s length. “Is this a threat?”
“I tested it on a smaller scale in the lab, fixed some minor issues. It works properly now.”
“Uh-huh.” She brought the bracelet closer. “So, how do I use this?”
“Point your hand and will it to fire. Finger guns optional.”
“Psychic trigger? Risky.”
“Yet very convenient. But there is a problem.”
“There always is with you engineers.”
“It wears out. Fast. Minimum two shots. At best, twenty.”
Inna whistled. “That’s the sound of this thing’s value going down.”
The tank stopped just outside the dome and Inna jumped off, taking a step forward. Raising her hand at a hill near the existent crater, she frowned.
As impressive as
the plasma lance looked from the perspective of the shooter, it was so much more from the side. The needle of light, reaching from a point in front of Inna’s hand, connected her to the hill. The hill seemed to rise slightly before the internal explosion blew it apart. The blowback of the weapon was significant, but a sphere of light protected Inna for the second of danger, burning grass and melting dust just beyond it, leaving the user unharmed.
The Gems, having flashed to life as the bracelet fired, continued to glow for thirty seconds. They worked to pump power back into the energy storage systems, recharging the weapon. Inna, who seemed to be continuously trying to fire another bolt, was engulfed in a second flash as the hill was struck again.
She took the bracelet off, looking it over as she climbed back onto the tank. Chunks of dirt were still falling from the sky, bouncing off the dome as the tank backed up under its protection.
“You just… made this? In a matter of days?”
“It’s what I do.”
“It’s very nice. There are very few weapons systems or utility modules that are wrist-mounted, so almost any Human suit can comfortably wear the bracelet… Considering the size, utility, fire rate and damage application of this thing, I would say it’ll sell.”
“It should make for a good starting investment. By the way, the secret here is that it’s not primarily a ranged weapon.”
“It’s not?”
I took back the bracelet. “What do you think happens if I press my hand into, say, a person, and fire it?”
Her eyes went wide. “It will fire solid matter too! You’ll blow the poor bastard apart!”
“I’m curious how long it will take them to figure that out.”
“How much did it cost to make?”
“The Gems, gravity generators and flash-shield projectors are the costliest parts, around 10,000 credits total per piece, not including shipping.” She stared at me. “It’s honestly pretty half-assed. The cheap fabricators I bought are decent, but they couldn’t handle certain aspects without modification. I only have enough material for about fifteen more before I need to restock.”
“How will you distribute them?”
“I know an Inson who runs raids. I’ll ask her to test and distribute them for a discount. If all goes to plan, people will start asking her where they can get more. And I’ll have the cash to make another batch by then.”
“How did you figure out advanced gravity manipulation technology in just a month?”
“I haven’t figured out shit. I gave up on that after the first night, then read the instructions and applied existing designs. I even understood the basics of how to wire the different bits together, but that’s it.”
The tank came to a stop in front of my bunker, and we began to climb off.
“Inna, I appreciate the Comfort Dome and other additions. Do you happen to have a shipping system? Something to deliver packages out of here? I know those exist.”
“I’ll be buying a mailing driver to solve our logistical issues, at least on the export side, so we can ship out loot. As long as it’s not something fragile, we can fling it to the nearest Gate towns.”
“I’ll be needing it,” I said, stepping inside with the packet in hand, deep in thought.
“Drake!”
I turned back around.
“You have got to stop just… walking away. It’s rude!” I frowned my impatience at her. “You mentioned an Inson friend. I would warn you against trying to play tricks or cheat these creatures - they are few, smart, powerful, and very kind. They make the best friends of any alien species I have ever met, but the Waste Ring was modeled after their homeworld, and their vengeance is known to be unstoppable.”
I nodded from the doorway. “Thanks Inna.”
Down at my lab, I connected to the Waypoint with my Menu, projecting the hologram on the table. I tapped into the browser and located the Archives - arguably the most powerful agency on the Rings.
The hierarchy on the Rings was, seemingly, very simple. Local governments, millions of corporations, alliances, nations and empires controlled most of the outer Rings, making for a political map that looked like a quilt of planetary scale. On the inner Rings the situation was different, with many separate organizations and corporate blocks working together under a single Union.
Higher on the pyramid, above the nation-states, were the Five Monopolies. The five super-corporations, existing since the colonization of the Rings, controlled most of the production rights and manufacturing power across all five megastructures. To cross a Monopoly was to lose access to a vast array of goods, and even the largest alliances didn’t dare to antagonize them. The only entity that the Monopolies had no power over were the Archives.
The Archives were the first source of Credit on the Rings. Sponsored by the mechanics that ran this world, they had the right and obligation to distribute rewards for valid, documented discovery and achievement. They were also the only power I knew of that had the right to modify the Menu, to change and grant titles, and to issue designer rights to the creators of any new inventions.
Logging in I created a profile. The Archives allowed for a degree of anonymity - I added a nickname below my name, one that I had thought on for a time. I had decided on ‘reviver of technology’.
Full Name (Private): Drake Frost
Nickname (Public): The Technomancer
Age (Private): 30 / 10,858 (Old Earth Calendar)
Race (Private): Corporate (Human)
Residence (Private): Vazanklav / Hades Ring
Submit. Next!
With a valid profile I could submit a claim on an invention. It took a few dozen photographs, uploaded blueprints, specifications and material requirements, as well as instructions on use. I had to prove my ownership of the design. I also had to provide a name.
Item Registration: Firebolter
Design Rights: The Technomancer.
Submit!
Holding up the bracelet I stared at it, and a mini-Menu appeared in the air beside it. Unlike before the object registered as an item, rather than a simple bracelet. The Menu listed only the two names and my notes on use.
Very neat, very intuitive.
Going downstairs I loaded the fabricators with the last of my supplies and ordered them to work. The twenty additional bracelets would be ready for assembly by morning.
Inna’s words floated up in my mind. Rarus was a creature that evolved on a world where it rained rocks, yet also one that helped me when I needed it most. I would not be cheating the Inson with an unfair cut.
I checked my messages, finding a response from alien, saved the provided address, and wrote a short reply.
“Hey Rarus, I am sending you a package of twenty weapons units. Please sell for around 50,000 CC per unit. Do not reveal the source of the units. Half of all sales are yours to keep.”
And that, for the most part, was the extent of my plan. I could only hope now that my analysis of Ring economics and product demand was correct, and that my creation would sell with sufficient profit.
Hope, and wait.
Part Three: Deductibles of Fame
“…There’s nothing wrong. Nothing off. No anomaly in the economy, no deviation in profits. But something is off. Rotten. Aged. And I fear it is the very system we, the Monopolies, have created, the very source of our wealth, for we have reached a point of stagnation that cannot last. And so I wonder, what will it take to topple the ancient system that has lasted us through the millennia? A titanic effort? Or a whim of a mind we cannot control?”
0 : Bad Neighborhood
Day 23
The Mailing Driver had some resemblance to a gigantic cannon, but it lacked the military looks to match. The vast, brick-like construct was an extremely focused design - it lacked armor, deflectors or defenses, and the oversized barrel aiming into the sky was but an illusion of firepower and grandeur. A glancing hit from even a light weapon would break the thing like a vase. It only purpose was logistical, not military.
&n
bsp; I was still amazed with the speed at which the equipment was delivered to the Monument. Inna had ordered the Driver yesterday. Overnight the order was processed, the item was found, sent up to an automated freighter, flown to us, and delivered. Six local hours hadn’t passed when the container passed through the Comfort Dome and braked to a stop on the designated foam-concrete pad, using massive jets to break the fall.
The price of such delivery was stunning, competing with the value of the Driver itself. But it was also the only method of supply we had now that Inna’s Gate Town was gone.
The villagers, those skilled in mechanical labor, quickly unpacked and set up the machine on its stone pedestal, rotating and angling it to point towards the fourth-nearest Gate Town, located several thousand kilometers orbitward.
The foundation of our logistics, the solution to our supply and export problem, our very lifeline to the outside world now consisted of simply throwing the supplies where they were needed.
The first shot was hollow. The two-meter-long needle, a cheap, barely-guided container with minimal electronics and maximum aerodynamics was loaded into the magazine. The Driver inhaled power and, with a terrible thunderclap, fired the empty charge into the cloud cover above, leaving behind only a narrow streak of burning atmosphere. The shell would pass through the field holding the Ring’s atmosphere, traveling through the void of space for a time, before re-entering over the target Gate town and descending using air brakes.
The Driver accelerated its charge using a gravity catapult, allowing a large starting velocity for the shell, and causing no stress of acceleration on the cargo within. That didn’t mean that anything even remotely fragile could be projected this way - the ride through the atmosphere was still destructive to anything lacking a high bar of durability.
But my Firebolters were built on a very cheap fabricator, and that meant they were engineered for simplicity and durability to compensate the staggeringly low quality of production.
“All this effort, and you still think it’s a good idea to stay?” Inna and I were standing nearby as villagers loaded the first Firebolter package into the Driver. “It would be so much easier to move to a Gate town. We don’t have much stuff, and it would solve all our logistical issues. Rent for ten years would cost less than all this equipment.”