Chapter 139
Eli POV
I stretched in place through the black void, pulling my unseen white shirt and grey coat upward despite their contact with the chair. Adjusting my black pants up, I scooted the chair forward to where memory placed the table. Not yet willing to open my eyes, I sucked in through a nose unobstructed by any face covering. A thousand perfumes flooded my nostrils, leaving only the two most offensive members to rise above the rest, a sharp, hearty musk and a citrus whose sting was overbearing. Accepting fate, I finally deigned to open my eyes.
Sitting in the middle of a white stone circle, the wall of grey stone a dozen feet from me reached to twice the height of a man. I took it as being an arena, not the place for discussion. Above the walls around the circle were ascending stone rows bearing wooden chairs; on each rested a spectator who seemed lost in their eager chatter and consumption of the assorted snacks and drinks being offered by servants to help beat back any heat from the midday sun coming through the skylight of the wood ceiling above. Rather meager offerings, for these most esteemed mages of society.
Each was dressed in bright, flashy attire that announced their elements to the world. Robes of fierce reds sporting rubies, light shirts of green imbued with emerald, blue coats with collars of sapphires, brown leather armors made comfortable despite their amber fixings, and every combination of clothing and the four base element colors in between. For the first time, the lack of dual elements in the world felt tangible. More than a hundred haughty clowns above me, and not one of them dressed in the colors of those fabled dual elements. Despite my esteemed station as a plant mage, most of the lesser mages returned a scowl wherever my eyes rested, so I spared souring their meals and looked to the bare table ahead, then to the door resting behind it.
Trials for mages were rare on the Central Continent. This was not a trial but something in between, as my execution of that rapist was legal under all laws. Yet, my magically endowed fellows felt a sense of wrongness about the event. Laws in these lands were often less about what was written and more about what was agreed upon. Ashe had conveyed as much to me, which I had been content to ignore.
That was until the rumors said associations started talking about looking into the matter more carefully, and a mother wanting justice for her son. Two wounds that could fester into something serious. Given all that, Ashe said she would help calm things down if the jackals got one morning to witness me defend myself. I suppose violating society's taboos always came with a price, and this one only demanded some shaming.
The door behind the table opened, through which came a large, bald man in a huge blue coat with a white collar and black pants. His red beard reaching down to his chest did nothing to hide the boisterous smile as he headed towards the center seat, brown eyes gleaming. A woman with puffy cheeks and a bun of red hair moved to sit in the chair to the left of him, her dark green dress sporting vines up to and around the hills of her chest, though her amber eyes had a disdainful air. On the right, a servant boy pulled back a chair for the most important member, as evidenced by the other two being forced to sully their hands working their chairs back.
Ashe bore a golden dress on her frame, on which her long red hair rested. Her green eyes took in the scene with no small joy, so much so that her small nose sucked in air to not display the smile threatening to touch her pronounced cheekbones. Looking to the left, she gave the man a nod, who then coughed loudly into his right hand.
"This co-operation is officially started by both the recognition of House Kraton and the powers invested in me by the miracle of mana. Any attacks on any person for the duration of our gathering will incur a blood debt with House Kraton. Any doings after, the family of Kraton and I wash our hands of."
There was a small chorus of creaking wood as people adjusted for the arrival of the big show.
"To confirm the facts before us, I will lay out the incident of what had brought us here today. One night at a pub under the jurisdiction of plant scion Tilvor Laperict, water mage Orios Ginnit, having taken too much drink, damaged several items of property, defied curfew, and planted seed in a peasant woman-"
"Girl." I interrupted. "Not a woman, a girl."
The man turned his brown eyes to the woman on the left with an expectant look. She bit a thick lip above her stubby chin, tossing her head ever so slightly back and forth before sighing.
"If Tilvor wants to make it a point of contention out of some pride or misguided idea that it will change things, I will allow him that." Probably Orios's mother responded.
Whether or not it was the truth is utterly irrelevant, nice to know how things stand.
The man nodded before turning away from the woman whose importance still escaped me. He then turned to me and sucked in a deep breath.
"This seeding was done against the girl's wishes, as absurd as that sounds, and for this, Tilvor killed Orios before putting his corpse and the corpses of his attendants on display at his city's entrances. Any objection to these facts?"
I felt there was a bit of needless commentary placed in there. As to the facts as presented, I found nothing wrong, so I shook my head. The woman on the left huffed, puckering her thick lips for a second before shaking her head. Something the burly man answered with a nod before speaking.
"Now that we established what has happened, we can decide how to deal with these facts. Persephone, I believe you had one pertinent issue."
"Yes," the puffy-cheeked woman said, "My son's bones have been made a display and a decoration for the peasant's amusement. I want his and his attendants' bodies returned, whole and with compensation."
Ah, she was indeed the wretches' mother.
Surrounding eyes turned to me, waiting for the answer.
"The bodies I have no affinity for. You may take them back as you please. But compensation? No. The laws of my land were clear, to say nothing of what good sense should have told him. If I walked into your house and smashed some piece of pottery, could I demand compensation for the pain in my fist?"
Persephone puckered her lips, leaning back in the chair. Those amber eyes stared at me for a few seconds before she sighed.
"Orios wasn't some piece of pottery. He was a good stud for my house and had produced several magically capable children. Losing him, over some whinging about a peasant wench, is a blow to my house's standing and prospects beyond calculation. One I demand you at least attempt to make whole.
I want no less than four guaranteed siring's of magically capable children, each of your plant element. A dozen wood-growing crafts. And a personal apology for the entire realm to hear."
As odd as it was to hear a mother demand children from her son's killer, I was picking up something else in her tone and body language. Nothing in her eyes or body language said she was upset over Orios dying, on a personal level. This was purely about saving face. I had surmised one big point to make, and this was perhaps the best chance I was going to get to use it. Ashe, however, coughed into her hand before I could say anything, drawing the gaze of her two companions.
"Sadly, Tilvor is bereft of the means to fulfill your first demand. Something I have personally confirmed." She said, a smile reaching her pronounced cheekbones.
Persephone furrowed red eyebrows before turning to me. I nodded at the unspoken question. A huff escaped her lips before she turned to Ashe, the man between them invisible for all intents and purposes.
"Personally, have you? Decided to try and mix healing and plant magic?"
Ashe shrugged, sending bits of red hair sliding over her gold dress.
"For other matters."
A bit of red came up the 'grieving' mother's face.
"I demand compensation!" She screamed, slamming the table as she did so. "For the death of Orios and the mere suggestion that his life was worth ending for some whore's tears!"
Feeling this was the proper moment, I stood up in my chair, naked-faced and baring teeth.
"IS A MAGE NOT SOVEREIGN?!" I screamed.
The crowd in the stands drew still, as did those at the table.
"Some whore's tears?!" I demanded in a growl. "My domain was recognized by Rodring's widow. Established and defended by my own magic. I laid out the rules, plain as the blue sky above."
The redhead took a deep breath before rising out of her chair to stare me down.
"It is not decent to suggest a peasant's life is worth a mage's. This violates all good sense and undermines our strength as a society."
Some grumblings of agreement wafted down from the crowd above.
"Decent?!" I demanded. "Perhaps I should come to your house and make sure everything is up to the standards of decency. Maybe inspect the association's doings to make sure they're being decent. Since when are mages bound by the expectations of others?"
The way Persephone's two companions' eyes slid to her made the woman visibly flinch. At the same time, hums and pointed looks also filtered down from above. All intangibly pressing down on the mother. Now was the time to really squeeze.
"I am a mage, not a dog. Is a mage not free to conduct their affairs as they see fit? Are their holdings not sound when guaranteed by the kingdom or their own strength? Does having lawfully designated land to rule as I see fit mean nothing?!"
Whatever lofty words or grand images, mages were about benefits. Nothing more, nothing less. To that end, these were very dangerous questions being asked. Both her companions now looked at her with heavy gazes, letting her know they weren't going on this ride with her. That, perhaps more than my words, finally broke Persephone into a stone face bereft of its previous confidence. Still, she gave one last swing.
"What of a mother's grief?" Persephone groaned, petulance coming clear through.
In her amber eyes, I saw more exhaustion than grief. This woman was clearly more motivated by saving face than vengeance. And considering time was the one resource I couldn't manufacture or magically summon more of, a little bending on my part, while not the most satisfying, was probably the wisest choice.
"It is a terrible thing." I agreed with a nod. "And the loss of any mage is a blow to us all, even those who must do their killing. I can make an announcement of my condolences to Orios's surviving family members and a reiteration of my domain's rules."
Persephone sent her amber eyes to her companions. Their hard stares told her to accept. She then looked back to me, her gaze weighing the situation. If I had killed her son in Crasden or elsewhere, maybe she could have a case. But going at me after Orios was openly violating a mage's rules in their own holding was a step too far, by my estimation, at least. With a close of her eyes and nod of her head, Persephone agreed with my calculus.
"Perhaps that grief is clouding my judgment. A mage is indeed sovereign. I look forward to reading your proclamation."
The man between her and Ashe nodded in satisfaction. He then looked to me. When I gave him the slight bow of affirmation, he rose from his chair, as did the two other women.
"Then we consider this matter to be at its end. Good day for all, and good hunting."
The trio went out the back door while I turned around. Those in the spectator chairs were either talking among themselves or finishing off a late lunch, content to ignore anything else going on in the pit. Ahead of me lay double doors of wood, which I power-walked through. Wearing a face covering during the not-trial would have prompted needless questions, but once I was back on the street, I could make myself decent again.
Beyond the double doors lay a wide room with a reception desk on the left side and windows beside a door directly ahead, the latter of which I rushed towards. Once I was back in the streets, I quickly took out the brown cloth with string from a pocket and covered my bare face, taking a deep whiff of fresh air for a performative effect.
In hindsight, wearing a face covering because I couldn't stand the smell of the unwashed masses any longer than absolutely necessary was a rather obvious excuse to cover up my face. A suggestion that only came to me a few days past and one that wasn't needed in a crowd of mages. Thankfully, that obvious fiction did eventually form in my brain, and I was free to walk about not feeling half naked.
Now out of the building, I found myself on a smooth street of grey stone in front of the forum for the 'City for Mages', as Ashe was so fond of expounding these days. A blue sky above allowed midday sun to beat down on the two- or three-story houses now taking up the valley that sprawling slum had covered in times past. From the street view, the right, left, and forward directions were endless roads and boxes of wood, steel, and grey stone constructions.
Whatever our differences, I had to admit that Ashe Kraton had succeeded in her aims. Being on a slightly raised part of the valley, I was treated to a view of stone roads, mini-mansions, and yellow boxes on black poles at various street corners. Aside from the visual upgrade from dirty hovels, the air was fresher than before, and the occasional fountain or pool dispersed about the various homes was the aesthetic high-minded mages loved.
The promise of living in a secure area, if a bit cold, without having to endure a slum nearby proved tempting. When it was certified that the place was completely free of orcs, temptation turned to purchase. A bidding frenzy had descended on the city, filling coffers and making Crasden a matter of great renown among certain high circles.
Or so Ashe told me.
I was a bit skeptical at first. But in our various meetings to coordinate our dual cities' affairs, the truth was revealed to match the speculation. From the increases in prices for my farm's produce and lumber products, to the constant demand for more harbor space on both our ends, I couldn't deny the woman had realized her bounty in coin and reputation always followed wealth.
On the left side of the road, I stopped my musing to finally acknowledge the six men in red leather armor waiting to escort me home. Over the painted leather rested wood armor typical of those who served me. Such a display might have drawn some weird looks before the battle with the pirates. Seeing that same wood crack swords and smash skulls had put such armaments above jest.
The armor I was particularly proud of, making it so that a man could have full neck movement while fully protected from the head down to the collarbone, had taken some doing. Such armor also allowed the nearest guard to bow his head and look at me with the usual question of whether they could start following me again. I obliged them with a nod, working my calves on the slight incline towards the road leading out of what had been a slum just months prior. Surrounded by guards like a duck and her brood, I concentrated on the climb until we reached the top.
The road was a straight shot to the harbor, with a now rather grand arch on the right leading up to the abortion of a skyscraper on a slight hill. It mocked me as we walked past, its crude steel beams and uneven glass walls demanding a good stone's throw. Somehow, temptation was denied yet again, and I walked down the road with the guards.
Aside from the usual perusing for those making suspicious moves towards our group, I ignored the rest of the trip as best as I could. Not that much had changed to merit any attention. The harbor district of the city was actually less busy than usual, probably something to do with the population being a tenth of what it once was. That didn't mean there still wasn't traffic to swindle a good ten minutes out of my life for daring to leave through the open spot in the right outer wall where a road connected our two spots of civilization.
Walking up to the road entrance, I had some criticism of the gate sticking out over the ocean, but even my stingy appraisal had to admit it was an improvement. The first earth mage responsible for making the new road safe had put in the most miserly of infrastructure, even going as far as making the two roads improperly meet out of spite. Since then, the newest member of….Whatever the name of the earth mage association was has since made it proper. The full length of the wall now went into the sea, with a small tower sporting a catapult sticking out of the bay. Between that and the road now properly connecting, traffic now flowed at its full potential.
Seeing as it was midday, I was spared the usual morning and night congestion. After all, the mages weren't going to clean their rooms, make their meals, or drive the carriages to move goods. Before the crack of dawn, the city's lower class of labor had to funnel in from a road two carriages wide. Right now, it was inconvenient rather than crushing, so I left the future expansion for another time.
My turn finally came, behind a horse-drawn carriage. Passing below the gate, I came out onto a road with walls on both sides reaching two floors high. Over this was a skeleton of wooden beams as strong as steel instead of the previous open sky. Now that the city was complete, smaller security issues were being addressed.
The trip took a good thirty minutes or an hour. Or more. This was the first time in forever that I mentally perused my to-do list and didn't find an item critical to my city's function. I wasn't allowed idleness; I doubt I ever would be running a city, but the death-march was a thing of the past. Time was allowed to amble on as I took in the apartment blocks.
Through the wooden beam above I could just make out the top of the main wall at this angle, though the nine floors of apartments sitting in loose clusters were freely observed. Each were comprised of grey stone fitted with windows showing off where the apartments lay in the stone. Pitifully small by my standards, yet gigantic by the peasants' experience. To be fair, the apartment blocks in my universe weren't fitted with siege weaponry on their roofs, so perhaps I was being too harsh on my designs.
Eventually, the main gate into my city came up to greet me as the other had, and I passed through it in much the same manner. The main difference being I was greeted by three smaller towers directly ahead. These lay in the middle of a large open pavilion between the high walls of the apartment blocks surrounding them. Two stables on the immediate right and left gave off their usual fragrances, which I did my best to ignore. Boards of wood in the otherwise stone floor marked the routes traffic was expected to follow between each of the gates.
Usually, I would pass through without a care. Today, however, held a meeting with Kev and an unofficial meeting on the affairs of the orcs beneath the stone and wood roads I had paved. A meeting agreed to take place in the men's canteen, which lay along the left wall far enough away from the stable that the meals could be consumed without the waft of manure.
On my approach, the men and women working the stoves and pots waved at me, which I returned with a nod. In any other place, they wouldn't have been acknowledged or even sneered at for assuming familiarity with someone so high on the ladder of status. Little niceties that would hopefully pay dividends in the future. For the present, I was content to head towards the rows of tables past the kitchen area and take a seat near the empty middle. It was just past midday, not long enough for lunch to be retired, though most of the guards had since moved on to their various duties.
Feeling I had earned a rest, I was content to sit and eat a half chicken with mashed potatoes alongside a light beer, which the serving girl placed down with all the care of fine jewels. Taking in the crowds ambled on for a few minutes. Most were aware of their lord's presence, those who were only giving me a slight bow as they went about the day's chores. In between sips and bites, I appraised the residents' overall health.
Thinness had long since left their frames, courtesy of my farms and aquaculture projects. The single biggest improvement had been in hygiene. Where they had to get by on rags and small buckets before, public showers now provided a complete clean. Another improvement was one I only appreciated when a newcomer arrived at the city. They wore no badges or clothing to mark them as such, but when someone randomly started stretching on the side of the road or twirled about in traffic in amazement at the space even heavy traffic enjoyed, it was easy to distinguish who was visiting a city not packed like a rat's nest for the first time.
The perusing of people came to an end when the anticipated figure in red leather and a metal chest plate came through the crowd. Despite the effectiveness of my wooden armor, Kev insisted on wearing his steel breastplate, its shine slightly covered by his considerable brown beard. Aside from his mustache and eyebrows, no other brown hair could be spotted on his thin nose, thin cheeks, or bare dome of a head. The abundant food had agreed with him, making his frame more burly and his smile at me as he sat in front of me more genuine, as was the levity in his brown eyes.
"Let me finish the meal before business," I said.
Kev nodded, meshing his fingers together on the table as he leaned against it. This merited no attention from anyone else. However, seeing as this was an agreed-upon signal for talk about the Underground, I sent a spirit connection into his right shoulder.
'Sally and the priests said they agree about fewer in-person meetings. Too many important people are being made unavailable at the same time. A spy of the Watch is bound to notice at some point. As the newly designated messenger boy, I want to relay that things have finally settled. Foods getting where it's supposed to, and the Council is too happy to have staved off death to worry about how the food is getting pinched without you noticing. Although, many are wondering when Gula is supposed to be back. What with her being your wife and all.'
Since telling the orcs that the beastmen were their cousins would entail far too many questions, we told them the story that Gula was setting up trade routes to help settle the wider food situation. Surprisingly, they bought it rather readily. I suppose being a port city, one spouse being gone for long periods of time was a part of life, even if the genders were reversed.
'Some weeks yet. She cares for her people as a whole. Whatever my magical talents, I cannot restrain her but so much. It's part of why I love her, truth be told.'
Kev closed his brown eyes, bobbing his head back and forth.
'You've certainly shown a taste for the hard path, my lord.'
'Indeed,' I agreed, taking a moment to appreciate the depth of how right he was. 'And have the gangs and such shown similar grit?'
In spite of the show of quiet we were supposed to be putting on, a small smile still showed from his brown beard.
'They all left aboard ships to grow roots elsewhere. To no one's surprise, they aren't eager to ply their trade in a city run by a lunatic who would kill a mage for such routine offenses.'
I took great care to raise my left eyebrow by the slightest possible height.
'Their words, my lord. I told you, no one but you will ever forget that bloodbath.'
'Good,' I said, raising the mug of beer to my lips. 'That useless mage proved to have some worth in the end.'
Kev took a turn raising his left eyebrow ever so slightly.
'I've never heard a mage earn such a description. Much less a male one. You lot are a lot rarer compared to the women, from what I've heard.'
Putting down the mug, I stared at the half-eaten chicken as I prepared the words.
'Male or female, mages are almost totally useless. From my observations, not one in ten actually produces anything. They eat at their society's like leeches, sucking away blood from every organ, health of the host be damned. All so they can waste it on some fool's dream of reaching higher levels of power instead of just accepting their station after age ten and working to help the next generation. I say, without exaggeration or flattery, that you and your men have done more net good for the endeavor of human existence than thousands of the mages you bow to.'
After taking two good bites out of my meal, I turned my head upward. Kev was staring at me with an expression of disbelief one would give a suggestion that the sky was green. Another few seconds of staring passed before he finally spoke.
'I've heard about this thing called heresy from the Christians. A few explanations and I still couldn't quite get it. Having a differing opinion being bad just seems… silly to me. But hearing that, I feel like I understand the concept a little better now.'
A smile was forcing itself onto my face, so I went back to eating. One chicken and mashed potatoes were quickly devoured before being washed down with the weak beer. Pushing aside the now empty plate, I looked at Kev before coughing in preparation.
"Now, give me the report. How is my domain doing?"
For the next half hour, the state of the city was relayed one item at a time. The fishermen were starting to see the benefits of the breeding pens I had set up, something that was helped by the new harbor expansions near the more ocean-facing side of 'Laperict' city. Food stocks were holding, and even expanding, despite the donations the orcs were taking. Various smaller details of the economy and administration that showed an engine humming along.
If there was any sore spot, it was mana demand outpacing expectations. Once the last set of farms were in place, carefully sucking blue specks out of the rocky plain outside my walls and condensing some mana crystals with enchantments on the fisherman's boats when they went out to sea would just barely meet the people's needs. A harvest any greater than that and it risked interfering with Crasden's allotment of the blue speck bounty. Maybe I could squeeze some efficiency into the systems here and there, but the land was giving all there was to offer.
"Good," I announced at the finish, rising from my seat as I did so. "A good day to you."
Kev followed the example, though his came with a slight bow before he turned around and went back to walk among the traffic. Stretching in place with a languid raise of my arms, I took a moment to appreciate the relatively warm day before setting out, red entourage in tow.
The rosy picture painted by the data points was reflected in the reality I saw fixing one issue or another for the rest of the day. Sewage was nowhere to be seen or fill the nose, save the very tail end of the river cutting through the city. More than once, I overheard a gaggle of mother overseeing their broods commenting between each other over how wonderful these playground things were. Something they had seen no other city implement, either from lack of space or funds.
Aside from enforcing rules and keeping track of safety regulations, my task in building a city was finished. Save replacing a damaged craft, the magic that had made this paradise for peasants could now rest its muscles. Which meant the real task could now begin.
It was late evening when the sky above started to bleed, and beds began calling, that I finally returned home. The half oval of plain, grey stone in the middle of the upper side of the river was considerable compared to the regular citizens' homes, a pauper's hovel when placed next to most mages' residences, both in scale and decoration, despite the drawbridge over the river serving as the only entrance. No matter how small, the guards still went through their usual checks. Another minute of my life was spent before the last man left with a nod of confirmation. Walking past the post by the down drawbridge, I felt it was perfect for the functions required of it.
Coming up to the small bit of flat land outside the door, I pressed the wooden panel on the right pillar. Once the bridge started pulling up, I opened the door and released a long breath, happy to be back home. To the left was grey stone wall with a door in the middle; to the right, a kitchen and cabinets, and ahead was a table and four chairs over a white fur rug that rested on the wood flooring covering the entire house's layout. All illuminated by a mana lamp in the ceiling that had been left on. Assigning all blame for that wasted mana to Persephone and the general whole of mage-kind, I went left through the door.
This brought me into a hallway that had two doors on the right and one on the left, again shown by a mana lamp above. I took the immediate right door into my bedroom. It was a square box with a slanted window above for air and several grates for protection. The left had a wardrobe, which I promptly ignored for the bed directly ahead.
I immediately worked myself under the wooden frame and groped for the needed dip in the otherwise level stone floor. When I found it, the stone lid was brought slightly up and set to the side. Getting down the ladder, retrieving the map from the alcove in the tunnel wall, and working myself out from under the bed, prize in hand, took a minute or so. Once on my bed, I spread out the two ink paintings on white canvas.
The trip to find spots for backup bases had turned up two locations, with the other two prospects having either been compromised before the trip or found to be occupied by those we would want to flee. On the left of the bed was the Dragon Islands. Being the least promising prospect, I would be lying if I said it had been anything more than an afterthought.
If our purpose was ever revealed before its proper birth, the dragons would keep mages at bay, perhaps indefinitely. Of course, to set up in the dragons' land would require us to reduce their numbers in carving out a home, defeating the point of the move. I had hoped that at least one spot could be barren in the circle and lines of islands radiating out of it, perhaps left as a dead land to allow us safe refuge. The men on the airship spotted nothing of the sort, making me turn towards the other map on the right.
This was a V with the point where the lines met missing, below which rested utterly uninteresting beaches and fields before ocean took over. This portion was apparently completed under some adventure, one that has since seen a pilot demoted and stricter rules put in place. Sadly, the north had a devastatingly interesting story.
Despite my experience being far more thorough than any other I could find, judging elven eyesight and arrow reach wasn't part of said experience. Near as I could tell, nothing was known about the Lost Lands save the fields near some wall and most of the right line of mountains. As far as discovery went, this painting was a world treasure.
Of course, we weren't the only ones to see supposedly unseen lands. Those waves of stone the crew saw seemed to be a defense, something for the witless demons to trip themselves off of. From what I gathered among the Front books and gossip, not even elves could take on demons in a sustained, long-term war. So were those beings of legend trapped behind enemy territory? Subtle inquiry among the locals and those among the well-traveled gave me stories of people fleeing the cursed demons some ages ago before coming to the Central Continent to live among elves, dwarves, and faeries. A story that was clearly off since the elves were apparently in the Lost Lands all along. And something about the potential end of the world. Blah, blah, blah. Nothing of any help turned up, leaving me to rely on my own judgment.
I already knew what decision was going to be made. There wasn't anywhere better to go, should the worst happen. Given the complete inability of anyone else to penetrate, and the endless ways my copper spheres of limitless electricity could put down the demon hordes, who were still flesh despite their naming and overall nature, the Lost Lands really were perfect for the escape if not for the other neighbors. People with far too many unknowns for them to be made aware of my presence, even if they weren't capable of moving far past their waves of rock. Until such a time arrived, the risk of setting up even preliminary surveys was simply too great for no immediate reward.
Putting the maps back took another minute. When that was finished, I stood in front of my bed, disappointment filling my soul. I had spent centuries without a wife in my bed and felt no loss. Yet, I tasted that warmth and sweetness for not even a single year, and now I dreaded the absence. Taking a deep breath, I consoled myself with memories of using Gula as a pillow and Salamede's approaching visit in a few days before leaving the room.
Getting ready for bed in the bathroom, I went over the last item for the day as I ran a brush over my teeth. The original plan was to crawl into a well-furnished hole and make a self-contained computer to act as a neural translator between my brain and the AI chips. A plan that has clearly gone off course. Being the lord of a city, I now had any resource at hand or the means to obtain such.
Scheduling, however, was now the limiting factor. Originally, I was going to have Cell on standby and a team with healing implements in a rock island up north. That plan got reduced to only Cell in a hole under this house, which has since been decimated to just me as there was no set of circumstances where I would allow Gula to live with so little protection and so far from any real help.
Technically, I could still work the glass insertions under my own power, given the right tools and the time to fashion them. Sadly, connecting the chips was half the procedure. Keeping them from shutting off was the other side of the equation.
The chips had protocols that constantly checked for interference or sabotage, both to protect company secrets and, in case someone's sanity had truly departed, to keep them from trying to expand beyond the mental ability threshold. They also came with protocols for other circumstances. If they detected a connection sending even a random signal, there would be steps in the recovery if damage was detected, like a neural translator being absent.
At first, the chips would analyze the connecting computer's capabilities with small nanite recon squads no larger than specks. Once the needed data was gathered, a full computer suite program would be freshly coded, then sent over the connection to allow the presumed doctor trying to save me to work with its systems, even if the computer was strangely missing its own code base. The tricky part is, after that, the AI chips would start sending out messages to the local solar system's central cortex command to ask for third-party monitoring in case of possible malpractice going on.
Something a full answer to the question of the afterlife away. After sixty seconds of waiting for a reply that would never come, the AI chips would halt all processes and shut down for a twenty-four-hour period before trying again. Which would be merely annoying, except that should there be too many attempts made, the AI chips will shut off until a proper signal is received from a pre-defined authority.
Having gone through the drudgery of making an illegal AI chip, I knew the procedures and code behind all of it. If I got shut out, it would be years of crafting the needed software, forging the needed communications, and falsifying the needed credentials. All from scratch to open the chips back up. Just to start again.
That wasn't supposed to be a real risk, as I would be using various installed software backups to fool the monitoring system. The central problem was that, in order to slip these in, they would need manual interventions: file copying to certain directories, shutting down processes then shifting the programs to the needed backups, and dozens of other such tasks. Between the need for expediency and the knowledge to perform these needed subversions, I alone could perform this task.
And once it started, there was no stopping it. To perform a proper signal process required an exchange that would take a good hour or so with intermittent checks over the course of several days. Whether or not I was using them, the AI chips would keep this going, even if I disconnected the computer after the fact. Getting a neural translator in working order with the chips' nanites as a base would take weeks of work that couldn't be stopped. Perfectly acceptable for a hermit in a glorified cave, not so with the lord of a city who may get called away to God only knows where or for how long. To say nothing of the danger of having the insertion in my brain stem without anyone around to help me remove them.
The only solution was to put the chips into 'crutch' mode. Designed for those between solar systems or previously unexplored space, the AI chips wouldn't send out signals when in use, but nor would they give up their nanites for making a neural translator to finally free me from the mess I had made to get that far. Connections in this mode, however, allowed the manual use of other sections of the neural tech without the potentially dangerous connections to the brain section, my eye sensors being the most pertinent example. Connecting to their ports alongside my eye lids allowed machine-like precision, instant feedback on component integrity, and suggested instructions. Making the neural translator this way would take longer once the initial connection was made, but it would work and was safer considering the current circumstance.
I somehow kept myself from grinding my teeth as I spat a mouthful of water down the bathroom sink. A vision of the future came to me, one where I was strapped in a harness, looking down at my free hands working metal on a table below as I screamed profanities at the constant error messages my magic use was setting off. It was….Inelegant, but it worked. Releasing a resigned breath, I placed my toothbrush beside the sink and went back to my room.
Cold bed called, and I answered by smacking a wooden panel beside the bedroom door, turning off the mana lamps and forcing myself to walk through pitch black. Finding the blankets was easy with how much practice I had gotten; getting in them proved no more a challenge. Allowing myself to feel the lack of warmth and love surrounding me, I consoled myself that Salamede and Gula would be back in the future. With that, I relaxed and welcomed true oblivion's arrival, which it quickly obliged.