Both are powerful but have to be used carefully. I’ve also noticed, upon inspecting Sanctum with my Skill, that the “all” portion of the Skill description is a little misleading. In its entirety in System Script, it’s actually a formula calculation—much like I’m seeing for my newer Skills—that indicates the amount of damage it can absorb per second before it falls apart.
In fact, upon inspecting most “absolute” statements from the System, there’s often more detail. Sometimes it’s just a matter of translation. Sometimes I can see the workings of a System Admin in there, adjusting descriptions to something that’s a little more user-friendly.
Reviewing my Status Screen is really my way of procrastinating. I can’t buy much in terms of new Skills, and with my penniless nature, I don’t have the funds to buy anything really cool. Never mind the fact that I’m filled to the brim between the System Edit and Class Skills. In fact, my Grand Paladin Class Skills are all side-loaded, meaning they’re even slower to activate than I’d like.
No, I’m just wasting time reviewing my Status Screen because there’s something else I have to do. Drawing a deep breath of the stale, recycled air of the Shop anteroom, I place my hands on the Sphere and slip into the System layer. Repeated tests have shown it’s relatively safe for me to access the admin level of the Shop, thus far. I could almost swear the System is built so that finding other Administrators is hard, the way it naturally obscures logging functions. And makes it even easier to obscure your own further.
Still, I don’t have a lot of time to go over such details, not with the need to layer my protections and ensure I’m hidden before I slip within and look for a message. And this time, I’m surprised to note there is one.
It’s pretty simple, though I do have to disable a nasty little locator virus before I open the file.
Meet at 198.55.xmu.$@90.55
There’s a date afterward, but the moment I see the address, it feels as if it’s branded into me. I reel backward out of the System, cutting the feed and the Mana draw, shutting down any tracing as I stagger back.
My doppelganger stares at me and sniffs. Which is just weird when his face is mine—if I was in full V-lizard face makeup. You wouldn’t realize it was me if you didn’t know what to look for, but because it’s my face, I do.
“Idiot. You should be more careful. And wipe your nose,” the Hand says. The voice is mine, but grouchier, lower.
I blink, touching my nose and feeling blood running down it. I wipe it away, grateful that I’m not bleeding further as System regeneration fixes the damage.
“What was it?” the Hand asks.
“An address.”
“System address? You should be careful. That Skill is dangerous,” the Hand says.
“No shit.” I’d love to have the doppelgangers use it, but funnily enough, they don’t have it. While they might replicate my attributes at a lower percentage, they don’t have the System Edit Skill. Which is, in itself, fascinating. “Now, please stop talking to me. It’s really weird listening to me talk.”
Doppelganger John rolls his eyes but does shut up. One good thing about the System making it based off me, it seems to accept that I really don’t want to talk to myself. And makes the doppelgangers respect my wishes—the same way I would my own.
No, that sentence doesn’t make much sense. But it’s not a very sensible world.
“Well, if that’s it. I’m off.” The doppelganger waves goodbye off-handedly before walking out of the room, silver doors sliding open.
I nod absently, watching him leave and feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. I hurry after him a moment later, not wanting to stay at the Shop any longer than necessary, especially after what happened.
It’s when we’re well away, moving in a random but trained pattern to pick out potential shadows, that Ali asks the obvious question.
“What the hell happened?”
“The Council—or the Administrator side of the Council, or the Inner Council, or whoever it is—gave me an address.”
“And it made you bleed?”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure it’s not just any address.”
“Then what is it, boy-o? I’m not here to play twenty questions, you know.”
I work my jaw, getting some saliva back into my mouth. Even thinking it dried my mouth, and I’m not particularly happy with the idea of thinking it out loud. And yes, it’s weird to want to be able to say the words, even when you’re thinking it. And I could suppress such actions, but why bother? It’s small things like that that help me stay human.
I hope.
“If I’m not wrong, it’s a System programming station.”
There’s a long, long silence after that as Ali works through the implications. It’s particularly concerning, since even though we’ve had a hint of them before, we’ve never seen hide nor hair of them. Not even when we’ve gone poking among the planets we helped reconquer.
“Well, that’s not worrying at all.”
***
Meeting with the rest of the group at our residence comes soon after. The group finds me eating, having ordered a large meal to assuage my hunger and my restlessness. The overly large dining room is filled with takeout boxes, each of them individually heated to keep the meats, pastas, vegetables, roasts, and other forms of sustenance warm. There’s even a gooey sludge that looks like slime and tastes like liquid sunshine.
I’m wrangling a drumstick whose bone is made of crystals and metals, the meat tearing off in strips with each bite, when they walk in. I take one look at Harry’s more expressive face and kick out a chair.
“Didn’t go well, eh?” I say.
“It could have gone better,” Harry admits, catching the chair’s back. He spins it around and sits, flopping down to stare at the food.
Mikito snorts as she takes her own seat, pulling the Galactic equivalent of fried rice over to her side of the table, along with a shallow and large bowl. She ladles in the carbs while she explains.
“Katherine ran the numbers. Has been running the numbers. Even with the Duchess’s help, she doesn’t think we have enough to stop the vote.” Mikito side-eyes Harry before she adds, “She thinks at least half of those we have done work for aren’t going to come through with their side.”
“Even with the System contracts?” I snarl.
“Even with,” Mikito says.
“Goblin shit,” Ali says. He’s in his full-size mode and visible since he’s helping himself to food that he doesn’t need to eat. But he likes the taste and who am I to say no? “Is there no more honor among politicians?”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Harry sighs. “Fun fact. It seems that for high-Level Politicians, Diplomats, and the like, they have Skills that mitigate the effect of broken System contracts and oaths.”
“What!?!” I say.
“Yeah, surprised us too.” Harry shook his head. “Katherine forgot to tell us because she’s gotten used to it. Wouldn’t matter anyway. It isn’t as if we know who’s going to break their word until, well…”
“They do.”
“Exactly.” Mikito spears a shrimp, chewing the deep-fried, battered goodness.
We fall silent for a bit, each of us following her example and eating a little more.
“So, you’ve heard about what the Duchess did?” I ask.
“Yes. Which is why her wanting to meet you was surprising,” Harry says. “She’s extracted quite her pound of flesh from Earth.”
I grunt, not surprised. It’s not as if they all don’t have us over the barrel. But… “She wanted to know why they’re after us. Me.”
“Told you,” Mikito says to Harry.
He shrugs. “I was just offering other options. But I did say that was most likely.”
“So?” Mikito says to me.
“So what?”
“Did you tell her?”
“Not immediately,” I say. “I promised I would if she came through on her end.”