Chương 83: 81: Chaos Ensued

Very minor chaos, though. Mostly the dogs were just reacting to Nat's presence in the cafe. My absence had apparently taken no time at all. Was that good news? Yeah, it was. I would have loved an hour to sit down with someone—Jules, preferably; Jack, second; maybe JJ in third place? —to discuss everything that had just happened in excruciating depth.

One of those conversations where you wring every nuance out of the other person's words and expressions, distilling every ounce of potential meaning from a casual tilt of the head. (Okay, yes, most of those conversations were about guys. Sue me.) Or meanings, plural, because really, none of us were going to know what an ancient dragon-like being meant when she said, "Girl is gonna need every bit of help she can get." Except for the obvious: I was in trouble. We all were.

(Dragon-like: Ellie's uncertainty on two legs had convinced me she couldn't really be a dragon. Dragons could walk, couldn't they? But I had no idea what her species might be. Kraken? Leviathan? Some aquatic dragon I'd never heard of? The last seemed most likely, although maybe it was just that everyone who lived for more than a millennium became as terrifying as a dragon.) But we didn't have time for that chat. Emma was waiting.

And fortunately, since no one knew I'd been gone, I didn't have to discuss it with anyone. Except… Zelda was sniffing my legs. Dog, she told the others, accusation clear. No, dogs. Two? Three? She glared up at me as Bear came to check out the scents on my clothes. Two, Bear said, making it sound definitive. Smell on lap different from smell near feet. She sat and gave me the Look.

"I didn't feed them or walk them or play with them. They happened to be present in a room I was in, so don't give me shit. I'm allowed to talk to other dogs," I told them.

"Other dogs?" Nat asked. Riley had focused on the stranger in the room but with perfect Riley politeness, and she was simultaneously rubbing his ears with one hand, scratching his chest with the other. I opened my mouth to tell the story, then stopped myself. Pen had scrambled to her feet and was looking expectant, one finger holding a spot in her book; Chelsea looked as if she was sulking behind the counter; and Nat had dropped all the shopping bags she'd been carrying to pet Riley.

We didn't have time for that conversation I wanted, and it would take too long to get into it.

"You've been crying," Pen said.

"Are you all right?" Well, shit. I wiped my face. Somewhere along the way, I had stopped my silent weeping, probably soon after Ellie put the cocker spaniel on my lap, but the traces remained.

"Crying?" Nat stood.

"But we were just shopping."

"Are you hurt?" Pen asked.

"I can heal you if you are."

"No, I'm fine. I just had—it's a long story. I'd rather not talk about it, okay?" I forced a smile. Saying, 'I just got offered my fantasy life and an escape from this whole System integration nightmare and I turned it down because I didn't want to abandon you,' would be, at the very least, unkind. Maybe even cruel. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own that I'd chosen to stay here.

"If you're sure," Pen said. Nat, meanwhile, was looking between Pen and me.

"This—this—she's the healer you were talking about?" Her gaze stopped on me, accusatory.

"She's…" She bit back whatever words she was about to say. I tried to look at Pen with a stranger's eyes.

"Level 4," I said, grateful for the distraction, biting back a laugh of my own. Also, you know, gorgeous, and a teenager, either or both of which were probably the real problem. Nat's expression didn't change.

"Where are her parents?" I winced.

"Ah…"

"I'm running away," Pen said calmly, slipping her book into the backpack she'd taken from Dollar General, then zipping it closed.

"Are we ready to go?" She shrugged into the pack, then gestured to the shopping bags.

"Want me to carry something?" Nat began shaking her head.

"No, no, no, I am not taking a teenage runaway across state lines. That's a criminal offense. If I don't wind up in jail, I'll definitely lose my job. Probably my license, too."

"I don't think you have to worry about that right now," I said. Somehow I didn't think the System was going to be taking away licenses.

"Olivia killed my daddy," Pen said.

"And my mama won't even notice I'm gone, less'n there are chores she don't want to do." I closed my eyes.

"Olivia—what?" Nat squawked. I raised both hands, fingers spread wide.

"Extenuating circumstances."

"What kind of extenuating circumstances?" It was a demand. I sighed.

"He was a cult leader. Like, that was his class and everything. He was mind controlling some people and he tried to mind control me, and… yeah. I have a defensive ability that triggers on its own. It's, um, messy."

"Holy fuck," Nat muttered, dropping to the floor as if her legs had just given out. She shook her head, then leaned into Riley, burying her face in his fur. A faint smile crossed my face. Riley really was just the best at comforting. Nat raised her head.

"Okay. Okay. Okay. We're going. It's—" She looked back at Pen for a second, didn't quite roll her eyes, then looked back at me.

"Are you sure about this?" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. I shrugged.

"I think she'll be safest in an enclave. And I trust Emma. And you. You'll take care of her, right?"

"She's gonna need a fucking bodyguard," Nat said bitterly.

"I mean, that…" She gestured, hand up, hand down.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Pen asked, ruffled by the gesture. Nat and I exchanged looks, an entire wordless conversation happening over the course of three seconds. ("Do you want to tell her?""No, you.""Not me, you tell her.""Really? Do I have to?""Yes, dammit, someone's got to.") I took a deep breath.

"You are extremely beautiful." Pen blinked at me.

"Oh, please, no, that understates it." Nat shook her head.

"You are Marilyn Monroe reincarnated mixed with some Margot Robbie. Or maybe their kid if, you know, Marilyn wasn't dead."

"I don't know who that is?" Pen said, sounding tentative.

"You—what?" Nat stared at her.

"She's very sheltered," I said.

"Cult leader dad was already, ah, religious."

"Oh my fucking God," Nat muttered. Pen's eyes widened.

"Right, sorry!" Nat scrambled to her feet.

"We'll get you a bodyguard. We'll get you—well, not a male bodyguard. That would just be asking for trouble."

"I have Gus?" Pen said, the words a question. She was looking at both of us with a mix of skepticism and extreme wariness.

"Gus?" Nat asked.

"The cat," I murmured to her.

"The…" She sighed.

"He teleports," I said.

"And his claws are very sharp. Plus, he's Level 3 already, which puts him way ahead of most of the people in the enclave. I think he'll do okay." Gus licked a paw. Level 4 now, thank you.

"Oh, Level 4 now," I corrected myself.

"Right. And that's—yeah, no, I'm done. We've got the fucking baby formula, right? Yes. So let's go home." Nat gathered up her shopping bags. I grabbed some, too, only briefly wondering how they'd wound up on the floor of my RMI when I'd been transported away, and Pen picked up the last of them.

"We're gonna talk about quests as soon as I get back," I called out to Chelsea, and then all of us—three people, three dogs, and a cat—walked out the door and into the Team Fellow Survivors enclave. Chaos ensued. Okay, not really. But, as I'd anticipated the first time I visited and hadn't even thought about this second time, people had reactions to animals in the enclave. Big reactions. They also had reactions to groceries being delivered. Better reactions.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the chaos level dropped to what was probably close to normal in the circumstances. Nat was organizing food distribution; the woman with the wailing baby had her formula; and Emma and I were watching as Pen used her [Mend] ability on the injured in the infirmary tent.

"That is so incredible," Emma muttered.

"I wish…" She let the words trail off.

"Maybe our classes will evolve again, and you can get a healing class next time."

"I doubt it." Emma didn't sound bitter, just resigned.

"The class evolutions seem to reflect what you're doing, not what you wish you were doing. I'll probably get, I don't know, Tyrant."

"Oh, come on," I said.

"You're not torturing people."

"Yeah, but I'm not running a democracy, either. And I'm not going to." She gave me a sidelong glance, as if checking for my reaction. I shrugged.

"This isn't a town, Emma. It's a lifeboat, and you're the captain. You might want to take advice from your first mate, and you definitely want some crewmembers with responsibility for, you know, stuff." I waved at the infirmary tent to indicate the type of 'stuff' I was talking about.

"You can't do everything yourself. But we're in a state of emergency, and committees and speeches aren't going to make anything any easier." Emma let go of the breath she'd been holding.

"That's a much nicer way of looking at it."

"Don't let the mayor get in your head."

"God, that woman." Emma shook her head.

"I think I voted for her in the last election. Little did I know." I chuckled. She continued, "Not that anyone could know, I guess. I have so many questions about this whole thing."

"Ha, don't we all. But, hey, you should have a..." I stopped before I could say the word. Was Chelsea a pixie or a Personalized Interface Construct? Ellie seemed to think they were the same thing, but telling Emma she should summon a pixie to get her questions answered felt… embarrassing. Or maybe dangerous. It sounded so delusional. So obviously delusional, a fast path to the psych-ward-style of delusional. Baker Act, here I come. But it was still true.

"I should have a what?" Emma asked. I took a deep breath.

"The old man who gave you the enclave. You called him a System avatar before. That's sort of right, except he's more like a very limited Help system than the capital-S System. He's supposed to answer questions for you and help you understand the multiverse. The trick is, he—they—only appear when you call them. They never volunteer. At least I think that's how they work." Emma gaped before snapping her mouth closed and calling into the air, "Hey, System dude. Is that right?"

I didn't see anyone, but Emma's eyes widened, and she tipped her head to the side, clearly listening to something only she could hear. Before their conversation could get too far, I interrupted and said, "FYI, no one else can see or hear him. Pretend you're on your cell unless you're ready to explain." And then I nodded toward Pen and added, "I'm going to check in with Pen." I matched action to words, moving away from Emma and into the infirmary tent. While Nat and I were gone, Emma had created a triage list.

Pen was only on the fourth person, but she already looked pale.

"How are you doing?" I asked quietly. She forced a smile.

"This might be gonna take a while. There's a lot of hurt people here." Gus was twining his way between her legs. This is too much for her. Bear had also chosen to follow Pen into the infirmary. She was lying, almost hidden, under one of the cots, her eyes alert. Bad smells. Too many people, her folded-back ears told me.

"Are you using mana?" I asked. None of my abilities appeared to use it. [Wild Sanctuary], which I was absolutely going to explore more just as soon as I had the time, depended on the effort I put into my defenses. [Verdant Sanctuary] ran on its own. The description of [Invisible Armor] had a time limit and a cool-down, but said nothing about a cost.

"Yes, ma'am." Ugh, I was a ma'am again. But I ignored the honorific (and/or evidence of impending gray hair and wrinkles) in favor of asking, "Do you have some kind of mana pool, where you can see how much of it you have?"

"Yes'm." Her eyes unfocused as she looked at her HUD and then came back into focus as she looked back at me.

"It's almost gone right now. I gotta wait for it to come back before I can help the next person." One of the women working in the tent came over to Pen carrying a small bottle of orange juice.

"This might help," she suggested. I didn't think orange juice was going to work as a mana replenishment potion, but it was a nice thought. A generous one, too, considering the enclave was already having food issues.

"Thank you, ma'am," Pen said politely, taking the juice. The woman was probably thirty, if that, and our eyes met in a moment of shared suffering and humor. Ma'am? Really? But she didn't say anything about it either, just gave Pen some encouraging words and moved on. I did a quick [Analyze] on the woman, just to see, and she wasn't in the System yet. Emma really needed to start power-leveling some people, but maybe Pen should be first.

"Does your mana replenish when your level goes up?" I asked.

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Pen's eyes brightened and then widened. She blinked, gaze focused on nothing, and then frowned.

"I got an achievement. Olivia, did you know—""Yes," I interrupted her hastily.

"Yes, I've been told."

"But… but this must be you, right? Unless…" She looked around the tent doubtfully.

"Your friend? She didn't help me, though, I don't think, so…"

"It's me, yes, and let's not talk about it, okay?" Realistically, I should probably set up a booth and provide career counseling services to every random stranger in this enclave. +3 to an attribute was not small potatoes, and those new classes that Danny and Katie had gotten sounded valuable. Any class that provided more than the typical 3 or 4 attribute points was good news. And also, realistically, no fucking way. That just was not going to happen.

"Oh…" Pen sighed. She was reading her interface again.

"Oh, I don't know what to do." Her gaze came back into focus, and she looked around the tent again, at the people lying in beds, some conscious, some not, all injured.

"Did you get your mana back?" I asked.

"Yes, but I can choose a new class, too." Pen bit her lower lip, her eyes not meeting mine.

"Do you want to tell me about your choices?" I kept my voice gentle. Something was obviously upsetting her.

"I could be an Area Healer, which would let me heal a lot of people at once, but only a bit at a time. Or a Regeneration Healer, which is sort of what I am now, except more powerful looks like. Or a Purification Healer, which works best on diseases or poisons. Like snake venom, maybe? I guess?"

"Those all sound okay," I said.

"Yeah, but…" Pen bent abruptly and scooped Gus up. Burying her face in his fur, she said, voice stifled, "I got something else, too. I don't think I can take it, though. It's selfish. Real selfish."