Chương 76: 74: The Sensible Choice

Decisions, decisions. I took my coffee and crossed the room to the map interface. I'd found such comfort in the idea of talking to Jack this morning. Not that I thought he had all the answers, but maybe he had some of them. I didn't know what I was doing. In the past 48 hours, I'd saved a few people's lives, killed at least one other. Was I responsible for Pen's brother's death, too? Nah. I estimated the odds that he'd brought the gas can along to keep my generator running at about 100: 1.

The bougainvillea might be mine, but his death was not on me. Dumping his dead body would probably stay on my rapidly rearranging Top Ten Worst Experiences of My Life list for a while, though. And I still hadn't told Pen about it. What I wanted from Jack was a touch of the calm certainty that he'd had when he'd told Emma she should find Sam and Matt back in the real world and give them shit for their choices. The confidence he'd had when telling Emma she was a hero, not a crybaby.

But what I needed was a safe place for Pen to stay. In a toss-up between finding Emma in an enclave filled with kids and searching for Jack in a monster-filled suburb, not sure whether he was even still alive… okay, it wasn't a toss-up. No rational person would pick searching for Jack. I still wanted to, though.

"Okay," I announced to the room.

"We're going to New Jersey instead of North Carolina." I don't know what I thought the reaction would be, but there wasn't one. The animals didn't care, and Pen was engrossed in her macchiato, tentatively sipping, a dab of whipped cream on her nose. I zoomed in on New Jersey. I had no idea where Harfield was, but thinking Harfield was enough to bring the map's focus to a region more to the south and farther away from New York City than I would have expected.

Emma'd mentioned Central Park, so I'd thought of her as a New Yorker, but she'd been hiking when the System arrived, so maybe she'd chosen an enclave a little closer to nature. The Harfield area had a few white pins and a couple of light yellow ones, but how was I going to find the enclave? As I peered at the map, a dot of light appeared. It wasn't a pushpin like the others, but it was clearly a marker. Was that the enclave?

I zoomed in even more until the dot of light was the focal point of my view, and tiny letters in glowing gold appeared above it: Team Fellow Survivors.

"My map shows me enclaves," I said with delight.

"It's very capable," Chelsea said from right behind me, her voice dry. She'd emerged from the counter and joined me at the map. I glanced at her, and she widened her eyes. I narrowed my own. She was doing it again. That thing where she didn't tell me something, just made it obvious that there was something to tell. The constraint on PICs not to provide information until you asked for it was really annoying.

"Chelsea, I hereby grant you permission to offer advice, make suggestions and provide information to me without waiting for me to ask." Chelsea clapped her hands together and beamed.

"By the way, enclaves are mana domains, functionally similar to rifts," she said.

"As a Rift Keeper, you're able to use your RMI to enter one just as you would a rift. You'll appear right inside the entrance." That was handy, too. And also creepy. I wondered what someone like Sam, the rogue from the scenario, would do with that kind of freedom. Stealth, backstab and steal, probably.

"Perhaps, but Rift Keepers usually earn their positions after years of fieldwork, well into an integration. You're an anomaly."

"Did you know when you gave me the rift that it would be such a prize?"

"I knew it had potential. But really no more potential than being an enclave owner. For most sapients, authority over other people is the more appealing power." I grimaced. Ick. That still sounded like hell to me. I turned back to the map and tapped the dot of light.

"So I can choose the enclave on my way out the door and I'll appear inside it?"

"In fact, you don't need to use the door. Your RMI is a mental model, a metaphor. The door is a construct. Although it is useful when bringing other beings with you, since it's an element of the construct that they can interact with, too."

"So I could just wish myself to the enclave?" The words popped up in my HUD. Choose your destination. This time, the list included Team Fellow Survivors. Two instances were open in the San Celeste rift, I noted, but none in Thorn's Edge. The instance I'd opened last night for Pen's brother's body was closed, then, the body gone for good. I really hoped I'd done the right thing in disposing of it like that. I was sure funerals were still a thing, even if the bodies were piling up.

"I do suggest caution when entering an enclave unexpectedly," Chelsea said.

"The inhabitants are likely to be a little trigger happy."

"Do any guns still work?"

"Yes. Randomly, however." I turned away from the map, back to the cafe. Pen was still standing near the counter, drinking her coffee with a dreamy expression on her face. The dogs had finished their pup cup pie, and Riley and Zelda were sprawled across the floor, taking advantage of nap time. Bear was waiting next to the door. The General gave his bowl of cream another delicate lick. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"All right, all, this is the plan," I said, with a clap to wake up the snoozing dogs.

"We're going to go to an enclave in New Jersey and find my friend Emma. But I'm going to go alone first to make sure it's safe." Zelda gave a sharp bark, objecting immediately. Not safe? I come! My job! Bear's woof of objection was deeper, louder, and almost as fast. Scout is me! I scout first. I make sure. Riley sat up, straightening and pushing his deep chest out. His bark was the deepest, strongest, loudest of all. Hush. Pack rules. Listen to our person. She decides.

I was not going to ruin his dignity by rubbing his ears, but I wanted to. What a good boy he was.

"If there was any chance of fighting, I'd bring you. All of you. I wouldn't go alone into a situation where your help would keep me safe. But these people might think you're a threat. Dangerous to them." Zelda snorted. Am dangerous.

"Yes, exactly. I know it, you know it, and the people at the enclave might know it, too. That might make them scared enough to attack and we don't want that. I'll use my Invisible Armor and just talk to them. Remember how the guy at the school was scared of you, Z, and wouldn't let you in? I'm gonna be inside already and I don't want them to freak out." I looked from one dog to the next.

Bear was definitely still sulking, but Zelda was reluctantly onboard with the plan, and Riley had already been willing to defer to my judgment. The General said, with a decided meow, If there is danger, my person stays here.

"Quite right," I told him.

"How long do you think you'll be?" Pen asked.

"It'll depend on what I find when I get there."

"All right." She pulled the backpack she'd picked up at the Dollar General around to her front and took out The Hunger Games. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she said, "I'll read my book. I'm not sure which is more sinful, the book or that drink, but I like both of them."

"Your breakfast chips should probably be included on that list," I said.

"But I'm glad you liked the coffee. You'll be okay here? The gas station has a couch and a bathroom."

"And a lot of disgusting bugs before you even get there," Pen said.

"I'll be fine. Take your time." Be careful, Zelda said with a tilt of her ear, her unhappiness clear.

"I will be," I promised. I tapped [Invisible Armor] on, and with a mental nudge, pulled up my destination choices again. I selected the enclave and had one moment of the misery-laced void before appearing at the entrance to hell. Okay, not hell. Just a space crowded with women, kids, and crying babies. The last time I'd seen a place this crowded, it had been the goblin encampment in the scenario, aka a music festival designed by hoarders. This was more like a music festival meant for toddlers.

No music, no stages, but blankets spread out on the ground with coolers, duffel bags, camping gear. And toys. Lots of toys. No one seemed to have noticed my arrival. I honestly wasn't sure what to do. I'd been expecting guns and aggression, not complete obliviousness. The enclaves I'd seen from the outside on television, back on Day Two, had looked like blue domes, the size of large buildings. Office complex large, not convention center large. This place was much bigger than that.

It was the size of a county fairground, covering acres, not square feet. Just like my companion pouch, enclaves must be bigger on the inside. They were also, obviously, places waiting to be developed rather than already functional. There was one tall building, probably three stories, smack-dab in the center, but otherwise it was all barren ground. Barren ground covered with children and their moms. At least the ground didn't seem to be dirt. I toed at it with my shoe, trying to figure out what it was.

Flooring of some sort? It felt a little squishy, but it was seamless. Just magic, I guessed. Since no one had noticed me yet, I started walking toward the central building. Along the way, I couldn't help noticing things I didn't want to see. There were way too many kids, too few mothers. Emma must be accepting children but turning away their parents. There were no older people at all, no grandmothers or grandfathers bouncing babies.

There was a scattered handful of men, but most of the adults were women who looked exhausted. And dirty, too. As I got closer to the central building, I passed a low canopy tent with rows of cots, mostly occupied. Infirmary, I decided, based on the people moving between the beds and the time of day. Six, seven rows, maybe ten beds per row. Most of the beds full. That was at least fifty people who were not earning mana for the enclave. My stomach twisted.

On some level, Emma must already know that injured people were a liability. But she didn't know how true that was, and I hated that I was going to have to tell her. Although maybe Pen's healing would be enough to get a few of those people out of their beds and back on their feet. Good news to balance the bad? I tapped [Analyze] and skimmed my gaze over the people moving between the beds. Unknown, unknown, unknown, Cleric Level 2… yeah, Pen would definitely be good news. The thought made me feel a little better.

A short line of people waited to enter the central building, while a woman stood at the doors directing most of them away. The woman in front of me was holding a very unhappy baby. Its crying had gone beyond angry baby noises and onto a sort of rhythmic ahh, ahh, ahh, with gasping breaths between wails. The woman swayed as she stood, rubbing its back and crooning, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. Finally, we made it to the front of the line.

The woman blocking the door was wearing a dark green uniform, yellow stripes down the sides of the legs, EMT patches on her shoulder. She held a clipboard, her pen tucked behind her ear, and her gaze barely flickered up to take in the woman before me. Even before the woman spoke, the EMT was shaking her head.

"No word yet. I promise you'll be the first to know." I was 90% sure that the only reason I could hear her over the baby's frantic sobs was because of my enhanced Perception. But the woman just nodded and turned away. As she passed me, I could see how close she was to the edge, ready to start bawling herself. I tried my best to send her a sympathetic look, but I don't think she noticed.

"Yes?" The EMT said, not brusque, but not friendly, either.

"I'm looking for Emma Chen. Can you tell me where I can find her?" The EMT looked up from her clipboard and blinked at me.

"Emma's very busy. What do you need?" Now her tone was decidedly unfriendly. I tapped [Analyze]. Natasha (Nat) Kowalski, Warrior, Level 3. Interesting class choice for an EMT.

"I need to talk to her," I said patiently.

"I'm sure she'll want to talk to me."

"Everyone and their kid sister wants to talk to Emma right now. I get it. Your kids are hungry or bored or driving you crazy, and the beds are uncomfortable and the lines for the bathroom are ridiculous—I've heard it all." She gestured at a cereal box sitting on the ground next to her.

"Feel free to write your complaints and file them in the complaints box. We could use the kindling. It's on you to find the paper and pen."

"Customer service with a smile, I see," I said, smiling myself. Okay, she was a bitch, but I kind of liked her already. How did I want to let her know she was seriously outmatched?

"Nat, if I can call you that, you're a Level 3 Warrior. Have you picked up an Identify skill yet?" She scowled at me.

"Who are you? How do you know my name? And no, you can't call me that."

"My name is Olivia Thorne. I'm friends with Emma." Nat's scowl deepened.

"She's never mentioned you before."

"Very recent friends. We met five days ago." Nat stared at me.

"Five days ago?" I nodded.

"Yep. She'll want to see me, I promise. I've got information she needs, and a couple of…" I waggled my hand back and forth, "…well, call them presents that she will very much appreciate." Nat tucked the clipboard closer to her chest.

"Is that a threat?"

"No! Why would you think that?"

"It sounded like a threat," she said, eyeing me suspiciously. I took a breath.

"It was not a threat. Do you need me to threaten you? Because I can do that, too, but it would feel silly." She didn't respond, but the suspicious look didn't go away. I clicked my HUD open and found my abilities. I'd gotten one in San Celeste yesterday that I hadn't had a chance to try out. Hopefully, it would be nicely showy. I tapped the icon for [Flag of Truce]. The results were not what I expected.