Chương 62: Melting Pot

Space was empty this time. No sign of Mochi, nor Abyssl. Even the giant angry fireball they called RANCOR would've been preferable company to… nothing. Just me in space. Alone. Not a friend in sight. So, I just floated there for a while, rotating. I stared at Canada, its beauty reaching my eyes, but not quite making it to the emotional centers in my ghost-brain.

I didn't care for the crack in the sky from which the mimic planet watched earth, nor did I care when one of the flecks of twinkling stars moved towards me. Something poked me in the side. All of my eyes flicked down, catching a hint of something white that disappeared right under me.

"Eek!" it squeaked.

"P-p-please don't look at me, f-f-friendly s-spider person. You're s-s-scary." Slowly, I returned my gaze to earth.

"Let me guess. You're the envoy of fear?"

"H-how'd you k-know?" The tip of a white, spoon-shaped ear poked up in front of Alaska.

"For one, you're hiding from me. And for two, you look like a green-and-white rabbit with two gloved hands covering your eyes. I have eyes in the back of my head too, y'know."

"Eee!" The green-glowing rabbit twirled in space, trying and failing to find cover. Story of my life.

"T-this is why I keep on telling them that I'm not supposed to handle people. I can't! What if they ask me a question. What if I don't know the answers?"

"Aren't you, like, permanently connected to the internet?"

"S-so is every person with a phone, but that doesn't help them either. And now with the ongoing investigation, I'm afraid I'll do so p-poorly that all my sisters and brothers will get angry at me, or disgusted, or disappointed — w-why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, just…" The system is investigating this issue. It's taking this seriously. I'm not alone. I smiled at the envoy of fear in silence. Knowing that some pieces of the system were trying to uncover the issue surrounding Fowl was uplifting enough to get back to work.

"Just send me back down."

"... you sure? I haven't even started with the emotional s-support routine."

"Your company has been more than enough. I'm feeling much better already."

"I… you are?" The rabbit stopped fidgeting in place. The hands covering its eyes opened ever so slightly.

"I did it. I did it! Oh god, this is my new standard. I'm going to have to replicate this success again and again. T-the e-e-expectations. Nooo—" [Your position in queue: 1] [Launching] [Extra lives: 7->6] A rubber band pulled me down, back to earth, back to the Cauldron hidden so deep beneath it. It's probably not actually inside earth, but somewhere else, I pondered, and then: They're going to interrogate me, aren't they? Before I could finish that thought, I woke up and fell right on a wooden table.

The first thing that hit me was the smell: musty, dusty, sand everywhere. I was in a room made of concrete. A small viewport revealed a sea of red sand, stretching almost to the horizon until it stopped at the jagged edge of a chasm. Some few hundred feet after the chasm was a blue forest, tilted at an angle that made it seem like it was taking off into the sky.

"We're safe here," said a familiar voice.

"Sorry, again, for shooting you." To my left, the gaunt man who'd shot me was sitting in a chair. There was a bowl of apples, mangos, and other fresh fruit in front of him. He was casually eating a banana, absolutely destroying it with his mechanical jaw. To his left and right there were two identical soldiers, identical except for the clearly showing ball joints of their hands, neck, and pretty much everything else. Also, the sheen on their skin was too smooth, and their muscles bulged unnaturally.

They looked as if Street Fighter characters were turned into action figures. The gaunt man probably had some sort of minion build going on. And that thing with the invisible hands… it wasn't necessarily part of his power specifically. This was the Cauldron. There were lots of Custodians down here. He picked rummaged through the fruit bowl.

"Apple? Us Custodians are always hungry, I know, especially after a revive. Sorry about that. Help yourself." [Custodian Lieutenant, Lieutenant Colonel, LvL 76] Holy mother of high levels. I took the apple, sunk my fangs into it, and sucked the juice out. It calmed the nerves of both spider and vampire. Once the apple was adequately drained, I took a bite, gears in my head slowly turning.

"Your name is… Lieutenant?" He grinned, as if readying to tell his favorite story.

"My father was a major, and his father a general. He gave me that name, thought it was like wishing me luck. I never made it past captain until the system picked me up and decided it was being funny. So yes, I'm Major Lieutenant Lieutenant Colonel. Major is my rank, Lieutenant my name, Lieutenant Colonel my Custodian moniker, but people call me either Major or LT. I am also the person responsible for assigning other Custodians to their positions. We are fighting a war after all." That was a lot to swallow.

I chewed my apple thoughtfully, channeling an extra pair of [Spider] Eyes on back of my head to make sure I wasn't about to be whacked by a Fowl in disguise.

"Positions?"

"You know. Frontline. Spearhead. Response team. Counter Insurgency. Logistics. Morale. And so on."

"That's a lot of jobs," I noted.

"Is it just us Custodians down here, or…"

"Custodians, associates, normal people, we're all down here working together to keep the other planets from getting a foothold too close to earth."

"Huh. How does that work?" He flicked his hand, and a small hologram appeared on the table between him and I. It was a map. The map quickly colored itself in a myriad of hues. He gestured at a small part of it.

"The Cauldron is a chunk of a previously unknown planet floating in the between-space between the sister planets and earth. It's the size of two Australias. We are on the southern tip of the main continental area of The Cauldron, towards the top. The only thing above us are the odd flying islands and the dimensional anomalies surrounding earth. Our three main positions are here, here, and here."

"The three Academies."

"Bingo. London, Chongqing, and Madagascar used to be our main ways into the Cauldron, before we set up our teleportation network down here. Those who would do harm to us used them in times immemorial to cross the interplanetary boundary. Now that they're secured, the best they can hope for is coming close and then smashing through the dimensional membrane between Cauldron and Earth in small groups."

"Which is how you get a convergence event." An area in The Cauldron and Earth converged and formed, what, a temporary portal? The way the mimics had arrived on giant asteroids returned to memory. If those had come from a planet tens of thousands of lightyears away by traveling through space, hitting earth would be like trying to sneeze at a butterfly in Sydney while standing in Chicago. In a closed room. The chances were astronomically low.

So why not just go past the middle man and bore your way into realspace through the Cauldron? The method was evidently not very accurate, or they'd likely be able to concentrate all their forces on a smaller area. The mimics would have probably preferred if they hadn't appeared around earth, scattered and in space, giving the system minutes to calculate trajectories, mobilize custodians, warn civilians, and throw up convergence dome barriers. The domes were kind of like barriers on interdimensional ouchies.

Which was the official term I was going to use henceforth for breaks in the Earth-Cauldron dimensional barrier. So, here I was, in the middle between the mimic world and earth, soon to hold the line. A line which was, evidently, not that big. Earth's territory was barely a tenth of the map, a tiny tip with cliffs to its back, left, and right. Easily defensible since attacks could only come from one direction, but still. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Then I zoomed in, and the area grew bigger. And bigger. And bigger. … maybe two Australias is actually a pretty big place. The Cauldron is like an entire new planet. A mini planet with so many oddities to uncover.

"How does gravity work in this place?" I asked LT.

"It pulls you down."

"And the air?"

"Breathable." I pointed at one edge of the map.

"So, theoretically, what happens if you go over the edge?"

"You fall into someone else's war, or off the edge, in which case you probably die. The whole continent is at war with itself. Nine planets, squished into a single continent. If you don't land in an all-out war, then you'll find smaller groups involved in general skirmishes, recon, looking for places to find more resources. Some factions like mimics, murderbots, and the teddybears are more aggressive. Others, like the plants and the fae are more subversive.

Deep recon missions beyond our border territories tend to be suicidal and a waste of resources. Teams of humans tend to not make it far. Custodians are needed elsewhere." LT shrugged.

"Together with roughly 1. 7 million military personnel from across the world, we are holding the line, if with great difficulty and sacrifice." Humans. Right. Of course just relying on Custodians to hold the line would have been a bit much. There were only, what, ninety thousand of us active right now? And they were divided between the Cauldron and Earth proper. Suddenly, I understood why exactly there was a lack of Custodians up above. The Cauldron simply had higher priority.

More danger, but also more opportunity for levels. It made me feel quite small.

"We have an idol team." I blinked a jumble of thoughts away.

"What?"

"The Hearthrob-hunters." He grinned, as if the name itself was some clever joke.

"They have a show in Red Hill Forward Base every Tuesday and Thursday. Sometimes it's a music event. Sometimes comedy. Last week they did a satire of Macbeth and other various classics."

"That's pretty daring."

"It was hilarious is what it was. Sadly, the brass is always questioning why exactly this is necessary, as if this wasn't a tradition as far back as Judy Garland and Bob Hope. Normal troops get morale, forestalling boredom, and we…"

"We get a reliable mix of emotions to channel."

"I see you haven't neglected putting points into Mind." He nodded.

"For transformations, and other big spells, opening the external ports can help. Some spells take days to charge, y'know. And some Custodians lose the ability to feel joy, or sadness, or any emotion after an extended stay down here. To them, these 'entertainers' are literal heroes. The good ones at least." LT's voice had gotten quieter and quieter until it was barely a whisper.

When he was finished, he just stared at the map as if it was a student's failed attempt at an arts and crafts project, and he was about to judge it insufficient. I licked my lips, and grabbed another apple. Worrying. Sorry that I can't be the bearer of better news.

"Did any shapeshifting wizards come through here a day or so ago?"

"So that's who that was." LT grimaced.

"Bastard landed same way you did, introduced himself, real friendly, said he needed an escort to machineworld, to which I politely told him to fuck off. Haven't seen him since. Now, my question: What were you doing falling down the tunnel half dead? What happened up there?" I took another slow bite. Machineworld. My system gave me a quick rundown. Machineworld was the home of the murderbots.

They didn't appear from nothing, but whether their creators are still alive, or whether they became or were consumed by the industrial machine of death and war they created is still unknown. The pactmaker was planning something with the murderbots. That's a hint.

"If I tell you, will you believe me?"

"Sure. You're one of us, Custodian."

"Even if the recordings and system says otherwise?"

"The system is incorrect all the time down here. Teleports the wrong items, misidentifies targets. The overabundance of magic and lack of civilian cameras it has access to confuses it. One big job for the cauldroneers — our engineering battalion — is expanding and upkeeping the system's signal amplifiers. Go out too far, or fall off the edge, and you might not be able to buy items, or even get a revive anymore." He shoved the apple core into his mouth and crushed it in three juicy bites.

"So yeah. Weird shit happens. Those of us who've made this place our home are used to it. Maybe you'll acclimate too." I frowned. I'm not sure I want to acclimate. I told him the entire story, everything from the artificial hostilities being stoked on The Academy's campus to the pactmaker forcing anyone from Fowl clone to fae to do his bidding. By the time I'd finished recounting, the fruit bowl was considerably diminished.

"I think I understand," he said.

"We'll handle it."

"Just like that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Your intel will have to be verified of course, but it isn't the first time a wizard has tried to sabotage a Custodian." I paused. Would it be impolite to eat a third apple? I'll go for a banana. It's more filling anyhow.

"Really? How'd that turn out for them?"

"Poorly. Takoma falls incident, '67: seven Custodian deaths, one wizard dead. Saint Petersburg conspiracy, '81: Thirty-two Custodian deaths, one true death, seven wizards dead. The Y2K event, '01, funnily enough. What wasn't so funny was the casualty count: 247 Custodian deaths, 19 true deaths, over a hundred wizards and apprentices dead, and the last great house of wizards destroyed. They created the system, created Custodians to rival the means of the sister planets.

Now that we're actually working out builds, getting organized, and learning from experience, they feel fear, a type of fear that forces mistakes and rash decisions. They think they've made mimics, and that they're the Asvex ready to be subsumed." He tapped a finger on the table.

"Any thoughts on that, Custodian Samantha?" They're afraid of being replaced. And they might be right, except… I gulped heavily, and placed the apple down with great reluctance.

"The premise is flawed. Doesn't using two different methods get two completely different results? Custodians risk their lives and sacrifice those of their enemies to get structured, quick, easy magic in return. Wizards risk their time studying magic or artifice to make wonders none of us have spells for. We need each other." He had a wry smile poking out of his lower metal jaw.

"Perhaps. But most of these wizards are old, Samantha. They didn't study levitation, or telepathy, or how to explode people from a mile away, just to get an equitable relationship. XP gain slows down massively for us with every ten levels, but even then, it took only thirty years for the first level 100 to appear, more than an equal to the strongest of wizards on earth."

"But they shouldn't be afraid," I said.

"We're all on the same side." LT observed me for a while before sighing.

"If only everyone were as optimistic as you, Samantha. Now, about your deployment." He opened a system window with a blink.

"System says you recently leveled up to 10, but let's be real, no level 10 I've heard of can stand up to a wizard that can shapeshift as easily as that. So Samantha, what are you really?" I flinched. Not a mimic. Not a liar. On your side. Is it safe to tell him my real stats? Or am I going to have to live a lie here too? The system decided for me. [Modifying cover] [Samantha Rubens, LvL 21, Custodian, full release version 1. 0] A slew of emotions flowed over LT's face as he read my title.

"Fuckin' 'ell. We're out of beta?" His eyes rose. Now he was looking at me with barely disguised wariness. If I was expecting awe, I was not getting any here; I'd have to earn it, just like I'd earned my reputation above. I smiled. Inwardly, it was like I was chewing on a rotten lemon. Why me? All I did was blow up one tiny mimic. One itsy bitsy thing. And suddenly, it's like I'm the System's favorite chew-toy. I just wanted a normal magical campus life. What exactly do you see in me?

I felt a hand alight on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, Custodian Samantha. My plan for dealing with this conundrum has just been approved by the general, and I'm known as a master planner. You're in good hands. Now, about your assignment…" +++ Somewhere in a ditch far away from Red Hill Forward Base, the sound of artillery shells impacting the ground was growing far into the distance. Remains of a battalion of murderbots slowly gathered rust in the craters some thirty feet below the small rise in terrain that was crowned by a defiant flagpole.

The flag kept on getting burnt off by plasma fire and, due to a variety of related health concerns, the inhabitants of the bunker below had decided to not keep swapping it for a new one. Symbolism was simply not worth the lives of any of the three remaining defenders of Hill 43.

"Think that was the last of them," said Rufus, scratching his stubbly beard. He handed the periscope to Maya. If anyone could verify the claims, it was the girl with cybernetic eyes. They came with night vision, infrared, a zoom function, a rangefinder, and an infrared laser targeter. The last Custodian that had come by had gifted them to her before promptly being cut to pieces by shuriken drones.

Apparently, he got better, because he came back two more times, dropping off valuable supplies to keep this dinky semi-automated bunker going. Hill 43 wasn't a strategically important location, and even tactically its value was dubious. A long cliff descended into a sparkling mess of fractured landscapes to its left, and to its right a number of larger fortifications drew most of the enemies' attention during the daily assaults.

Behind it, there was endless mountain and dunes, meaning any break-through would inevitably be slowed by terrain, then bogged down by second and third line defenders. Rufus was just a private, so he thought less about the value of this position he was holding, and more the value of the bonus he was getting if he served for three more months. Ten years was the norm down here, with volunteers drawn from militaries from across the globe.

Ten years, then a quick decontamination before receiving enough money for him and his family to be set for life.

"I heard they're removing the mandatory memory edit at the end of our tenure two months ago," he said. Maya barely reacted.

"Hm?"

"Service. Going home. It's important stuff."

"Oh. Good." The conversation died there. Maya killed conversations like an assassin, which is to say she did it through single-minded purpose and silence. Just his luck, that he was stuck with the only person who'd rather play gacha games on her cybernetics than hold more than two five-minute conversations a day. And even when she was inclined to talk, she never said anything interesting.

"Oh look. Reinforcements." Maya said it with the casualness as if spotting an oddly colored bird. Rufus shot to his feet, checking the first of three of their machinegun positions.

"More of them?"

"Not enemies. Allies." His heart skipped a beat.

"Finally! How many are we talking about? Five Custodians? Ten? Maybe with ten we'll finally be rotated back to HQ for some R&R. So, tell me friend, how much are they carrying?"

"Just a backpack."

"One back— that's a supply run, and it won't last us for a week! Unless… how many reinforcements are there?"

"Just… just the one." He sighed and rubbed his face with dirty gloves, smearing gun oil and red sand all over his combat goggles.

"Oh great."

"She seems quite fast though." Maya snickered.

"And armed." There was a knock on the bunker door. Rufus checked through the peephole, then checked a small scanner-device with the sole purpose of determining friend from foe. It beeped and gave him a readout. That was a Custodian alright. The door opened with a hiss and a young woman tumbled in. She had too many arms and too many eyes.

"Oh my god, why didn't anyone tell me I was going to be shot at so much?"