Chương 24: 23-Colonel Hawking Wants You

Steven and Bob galloped across the prairie, scouting for the rest of the group. Bob had worked on this new Fleshshaping perk all night. The flying Manta worked well, but drew too much attention; he needed a form suited for ground exploration that could pass as a normal beast. When Dignity informed them that Steven, Sarah, and Helena would be helping them reach Kenosha, the decision was made. If he had to patrol with Steven, then he had to be a deer too. Two different species running together would look suspicious.

Bob glanced back at the rest of their group: Helena, Sarah, and the rest of the Losers were traveling in style, riding atop an enormous Mr. Pinkytrunk, who had grown enough to accommodate all of them inside the howdah Sarah had conjured on his back. Mr. Pinkytrunk was surprisingly nimble and fast for a beast his size. His movements were precise enough that the travelers he carried could use the copy of the Hegemony game Billy had brought with him from Voria.

Helena and Jenna were fighting viciously over a dowry the latter had to pay the former, while Billy concentrated and rolled the dice, and Sarah watched the game with an expression of unworried contentment on her face. Billy made his play: "I got you now, Sarah. You are my thrall. I get all your farms, and you owe me one hand and one eye," he said savagely as the dice stopped rolling. To his chagrin, Sarah smiled sweetly at him, making the peace gesture with her right hand. Namasté. Sarah was too good-natured.

She took all the fun out of Hegemony. Traveling through the forest as a deer felt good. There was a sense of belonging as he ran effortlessly beneath the forest canopy. Bob felt as if he could run the whole day in this form and end up feeling more refreshed than when he started. He made some small talk with Steven before approaching sensitive matters. He and Steven had been acquaintances before the Apocalypse.

A huge rift had developed between them when the Coven manipulated Steven into attempting to take Dignity's life. Dignity and Steven had reconciled. All nice. All good. Bullshit. Bob knew life did not just work that way. He cared for Steven and wanted to help him, but he just did not know how.

"How are things going for you in Babylon now?" he finally asked.

"You mean how are people treating me after I tried to kill Dignity?" Steven sighed.

"Dignity has been, by far, the most forgiving of them all, which came as no surprise at all. The rest, not so much. Mel will not even look me in the face." That was a tough blow. Steven, Mel, and Bob had taught at the same high school before the Apocalypse. Losing Mel meant losing one of the few remaining ties to his old life.

"Helena does not have it better. Elariana would have probably killed her again two days ago had Jenna not intervened," Steven went on.

"Sarah is the only one who has been accepted without question."

"You were manipulated by the Coven, and they are very, very good at it," Bob sighed.

"Still, I think you should not have run away when we met you at the Madison dungeon," said Bob, as the only criticism he intended to make.

"I was too ashamed," Steven confessed.

"Most of the anger had boiled away by then. I finally understood that Dignity had to make a tough decision in a very few seconds. Accepting that did not make it any easier to return."

"You did return, and at the right moment. Babylon probably would not have survived without the Savants."

"No matter what the rest of our group thinks, real life is not like a Hegemony game, Bob. You can't just use winning moves to erase losing ones— trust is easy to lose, and much harder to regain." An uncomfortable silence ensued. Bob tried to think of something to say, but knew deep down that Steven was right.

"We are almost there," Steven announced as they crossed a corner in the path they were following. There was a small village at the end of it.

"This is Stanton. We three pass this way now and then. We even activated one of the leaders, the local pastor," Steven explained.

"Stanton is located in no-man's land. If you follow the road to the East, you will reach Federation lands and Kenosha. The land to the North belongs to the Answer."

"What can you tell me about the Answer? We have been somewhat out of touch with the recent developments and all," Bob explained.

"I think Father Alan can answer that better than I," answered Steven as a man approached their group, smiling. Steven and the newcomer hugged warmly, then he introduced himself to the rest of the group. Father Alan was on the younger side of thirty and had an open disposition. He had been a real priest before the Apocalypse came, and was the foremost expert on the Answer on this part.

"They think themselves they are God's Answer to the Coven's attack on Earth. They see anyone connected to them as enemies. That not only includes Essentials, but also any human who has activated the system, and yes, they have branded both the Federation and the Circle as heretics," he explained.

"They were originally a minor sect, a mix of fundamental Christianity and veganism, with no more than eighty members," Father Alan went on.

"Oh, god, this has an Illinois Freeman Militia vibe to it," groaned Jenna.

"They have thousands of members now, making it one of the largest forces in the region, second only to the Federation," Alan said.

"What? How is that even possible?" protested Billy.

"Because we are in the middle of the Apocalypse, Billy," Alan patiently told him.

"You Avatars got it all wrong. When the Apocalypse comes, people do not flock to Guilds or to MMO manuals to make sense of it. They seek answers in the parts of their lives that will give them the most coherent explanations."

"Religion," Bob said.

"And not any kind of Religion, not the major ones," Alan said.

"The fringe groups. The small sects. Those with a weird message, which they could pass off as having predicted the attack. The Apocalypse has come, and it is the one we tried to warn you about."

"Under those premises, I can understand the Answer gaining a lot of strength," Bob assented.

"It is worse than that, Bob," Alan continued with a serious expression.

"None of them have systems. They are all humans. And yet, they all have weird powers. Miracles, they call them."

"That is simply not possible," Billy said.

"All magic comes from Essence, or Experience, which is just a refined form of the Essence obtained from dungeons by the Compendium."

"Could they be telling the truth? Could their magic really come from some sort of God?" asked Helena. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"No. God could never sanction what these people do with their powers," Alan answered, not a hint of doubt in his voice. They had a light dinner at Father Alan's house, who let them sleep at their home. The following morning, the Losers would follow the path to Kenosha while Steven, Sarah, and Helena kept their rounds, checking on border towns, patrolling the countryside, and activating anyone who asked.

"We should not dally," said Jenna before they all went to bed.

"If we know Bilto is in Kenosha, so may the feds. We may have to break him free." When morning came, they had some coffee and prepared to part ways. Helpful Father Alan insisted they take some food for the trip.

"We would not be there without Stephen. We were almost overrun with ghouls six weeks ago," Alan explained to the Losers.

"He was the one who drove them back. That was the day I decided to get a class too. Well, speak of the devil…" Alan said as Steven appeared down the road, running towards them.

"Something is wrong," Jenna whispered.

"The Federation. They are five minutes away from us," Steven explained.

"At least 50 soldiers, heading here."

"Soldiers?" asked Jenna.

"I take they are not religious fanatics like the other guys you talked about."

"They are not as mad as the Answer," Steven explained, "but in some respects, they are just as dangerous."

"The Federation is an attempt to keep old-world structures working by substituting technology with magic."

"It is not necessarily a bad idea, but they have their own agenda when it comes to the Icosahedron. They want to give it back and take the war to another planet."

"It won't work. You can slow extinction by going along with the Coven's plans, but not stop it. Discovery's attempt with Belona has been the most successful one in thousands of years, and it has only lasted for 200 years," Bob answered.

"They are basically trading a fast death for a slow one."

"You and I both know that is true, Bob, but most people are willing to believe the Federation's crap," Steven answered, disgusted.

"They are not even lying. It's more like an extreme case of wishful thinking."

"They are aggressively recruiting, trying to create a new army, based on traditional military doctrine, not on MMO ideas," Steven went on.

"From what I heard, they are being moderately successful at it. Many people are joining it. All it takes is for them to renounce their levels."

"Can they do that?" Bob asked, amazed.

"They have lots of quirky classes," Steven explained. One of them is called Recruiter. As a class perk, it allows the recruiter to grant a quest that, when completed, sets the quester's rank back to zero, losing all progress. Then you can start over, choosing one of their approved classes. It is the only way to be recruited into their army." They silently watched as a column of men in uniform marched toward their position.

"How do you want to play this?" Bob asked the group.

"War has not been declared, and Stanton is not part of the Federation. I say we play it cool," Jenna suggested. Sergeant White watched the six Avatars, or whatever they were, waiting for him and his men as they approached the village. They looked calm and relaxed, not trying to project a threatening attitude. They were circlers, yet. And not common circlers; he recognized three of them: a bald man in his fifties and two young people in their early twenties, one male and one female. The so-called Losers.

The other three were two female casters and some type of ranged DPS. Only six, but they all looked rugged and experienced. He looked back at his troops. He had fifty common grunts. Most of them were rank 15, the minimum expected rank to get a class and become an official member of the Federation army.

Two weeks ago, he would not have bet one dollar on their chances, but new times were coming, new systems were in place, and level was no longer as determinative as it had been before—if push came to shove, maybe things would not go the way these six thought they would. He expected pushes to stay pushes, though. Unlike this lot, he had already been in the military before the Apocalypse came. He had fought in the Battle of Chicago and lost many friends there. He had been tasked with performing a recruitment drive.

Nothing else. That was what he intended to do. Corporal Ortega joined his side. He was young and thoughtless, eager to try his new powers.

"Do you know who those three are, Sarge? Should I ask the boys to ready themselves for action?" he asked Sergeant White.

"I know who they are. We are not to provoke them. We will follow our instructions, do our job, and go on our way," White answered, to Corporal Ortega's obvious disgust.

"Are you aware of the meaning of the term Target of opportunity, sarge?" Ortega went on.

"Nice one. I have a better one for you. Casus Beli." White answered.

"Do you want a statue of you in your hometown, Ortega? One with the inscription: This is the idiot grunt who started the war?"

"Who cares? We are going to be at war next week anyway," Ortega answered, clearly flustered.

"Colonel Hawking will decide that, not us." White decided that the most dignified way to handle this was to behave as if the circlers were not present at all. Sometimes ignoring your enemy showed more control than baring your fangs. The fifty Federation troopers occupied the center of the square. White took the spotlight.

"Good morning, citizens of Stanton. My name is Sergeant White, and my class is Recruiter. I work for the Army of the Federation of Free States. You have all heard of us and know our aims. We want our country back. We want the U. S. A. back, and we believe we can do it, with your help." Jenna watched the good sergeant do his work. He was good at it. He had them all riled up. He did not use lofty words, like sacrifice or heroism.

His message was simpler, and much more addictive: if we work together, the old ways may return. Jenna knew that was bullshit. Tech no longer worked. They were now living in a hostile, magical world. No speech would change that.

"Shouldn't we already be leaving, Jenna?" Billy softly whispered in her ear.

"Not yet, Billy. All these drives usually end up with some kind of demonstration," she answered.

"This is a chance to see how good these guys are in a fight."

"Will they do that with us here?" Billy said doubtfully.

"That is not the kind of thing you advertise to enemies."

"On the contrary, Billy," Bob intervened.

"That is exactly the kind of thing you showcase to enemies… if you think you can beat them. I am with Jenna on this one. Let's see what these guys can do." Jenna summoned Alarel and Dignity through the link, letting them see through her eyes. Everything went according to plan. When the pretty speeches were over, Sergeant White organized his grunts into squads and had them perform mock combat, showcasing their abilities for the better part of an hour.

Jenna watched intently, all her freebie points invested in observational powers, trying to make sense of what she saw.

"Ok, who wants a spot in the army?" Sergeant White hollered after they finished the show. Quite a few young men volunteered. It had been quite impressive.

"Your thoughts?" Jenna apparently said to Bob, as well as to her adoptive mother and Dignity, through the link. Bob pondered the question for a moment.

"All of them have one storage competency that allows them to store and summon items from an extradimensional space. All employ an incredible variety of magical items with precision and effect. My take is that they have the storage competency and three different Magic Item use competencies each. None of them is a crafter, and that means a lot."

"I think I know where you are going," Jenna assented.

"These are not warriors," Bob explained.

"They are not magicians. We have seen soldiers in action."

"They have focused on learning to use items created by other soldiers who specialize in creating them. They are powerful because they have money and means of production behind them. They may cast spells, but they are a modern army."

"You got it in one try, Bob," Jenna smiled.

"And much like modern armies, there is some specialization between them. Not all used the same types of magic items. Some used wands, others bladed weapons; those two juggernauts there are clearly wearing heavy magical armor." Dignity intervened, too.

"These are the basic grunts. I am sure they have specialized classes designed to fight some of us, much as the Coven did with the Hunters. Hunter-Killer teams, designed to take down specific targets."

"You know more about war than all of us put together, mother," Jenna addressed Alarel.

"Do you think Babylon stands a chance against these guys?" Alarel thought for a moment before finally answering: "No, you don't. Babylon's defenders have higher levels and more experience than these soldiers, but not enough to offset the disparity in superior numbers and more advanced weaponry. Babylon will fall." Sergeant White chose that moment to glance briefly at Jenna and smile coldly at her. Then he went back to the youngsters who were queuing for recruitment.

"We will be fighting some of those kids before the month is over," Jenna thought glumly. Suddenly, a young but firm voice cut through the chatter of the crowd.

"Sergeant Elijah White. You have been spreading the System among pure, untouched humans. You are a traitor to humanity, and you will come with us to be judged." The crowd parted to reveal three figures clothed in strange, archaic clothes. They were all on the younger side of twenty. The speaker was a petite blonde girl with an eyepatch.

"And who the hell are you supposed to be, lady?" the sergeant answered, not scared in the least.

"We are the Answer," the girl smiled back.

"The Answer to your crimes."