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Nero Walker, Book 3 Ch.12 (127)
🕑 Added 2024-03-08 23:30:01 +0000 UTCMike sat on the floor of his cell, his back propped up against the bed, idly flicking his fingers at the wall. Every time his finger lashed out, a small red construct resembling an arc launched across the room. The walls were enchanted and warded, so the only result was the constructs making a pleasant ‘pish’ as they shattered on contact. Not that it would have mattered, ranged combat wasn’t exactly his specialty.
There wasn’t much to do in his cell other than reflect on the choices that led him here. He supposed that was the point.
He never should have taken the job. The money was too high for what at the time seemed like an easy score. That should have been enough of a warning for him. He had really let greed cloud his judgment on this one. Though, listening to Heather might have had something to do with it. At least he could take solace in the fact that he didn’t bring Sarah down with him. She was still alive out there… somewhere… probably.
Hearing someone fiddling with the large wooden door, he let his hands go limp as he calmly stood up to receive his guests. ‘Time to see what you’ve gotten yourself into this time, Mike,’ he told himself.
A lawbringer he didn’t recognize took half a step into the cell, calmly evaluating him and running their eyes over the small room. Seconds passed as Mike waited for them to finish their inspection.
“Michael Harring, you are to be sent to processing. Let’s go,” the lawbringer ordered, his voice betraying his ambivalence.
Not seeing any reason to argue, Mike followed the lawbringer out of the cell. Entering the hallway, he saw two stern-faced guards waiting patiently. The moment he was within arms reach, the guards took up flanking positions alongside him.
While the lawbringer led them through the halls, Mike tried and failed to suppress his worries about what would happen. ‘Processing’ meant that he was being discharged from the cells, he knew that much. However, he had no idea if he was heading toward his freedom, execution, or something even worse.
Before long, he was seated in an office, staring across a desk at another lawbringer he didn’t recognize. This time, it was a young woman who looked exceedingly disinterested in what she was doing. Mike couldn’t help but wonder how many of these little get-togethers she had throughout a typical day?
More than she wanted, that was clear enough.
He kept his mouth shut and let her go through his file as if he weren’t even in the room. There was nothing to gain from pissing off the person in charge of his immediate future. He watched her uninterested face flip through some papers, occasionally checking boxes or referencing something on her link.
After a minute or two, his started looking around the sparse office, searching for anything interesting to look at while he waited for her to finish. When she started talking, his attention snapped to her and he straightened in his seat.
“When you were brought in, there were several investigations opened due to your actions in the Eastern Wilds. You, and your team, succeeded in ambushing an extermination team working under the auspices of the military. During which, you killed a potential house head undergoing his trials of nobility, a sergeant of an elite hunter team, and a bodyguard in the employ of a new noble. Even worse, you attempted to assassinate a new noble,” said the lawbringer, sounding as if she were reading off a grocery list.
Before he could respond, she held up her hand signaling to him that she wasn’t finished. Mike’s mouth snapped shut, and he sagged a little in his chair.
Returning her eyes to the pages in front of her, she continued, “These investigations have been closed, and the judgments filed with the Tower of Law. No tribunal will be held, as your guilt isn’t in question. Your conspirators, the ones who hired you, and those you didn’t know existed are presently being dealt with. An appeal was automatically filed and reviewed by the Center Oversight Committee, which found the arbitration agreement valid and the summary judgment was upheld. You have been found guilty on all counts.”
Mike felt the full weight of the moment press down on him. He knew getting involved with nobles was a bad idea. He could practically hear his father mocking him about his poor choices. ‘What did you think was going to happen? You tried to kill a new noble, and got caught. You gambled, and you lost,’ he told himself harshly.
The lawbringer didn’t give him time to process anything. Blatantly ignoring his agitation, she continued, “While the other conspirators will not escape their justified punishment, your agreement with Lord Walker will be upheld at his request. After you were taken into custody, he emphatically stated that you were to be protected from retribution, and offered a chance at repaying your societal debt.”
Mike perked up. ‘Societal debt’? That sounded like one of those work programs through the Center. With those, he’d be able to clear his record. That psychotic little noble actually kept his word!
Before he could get too excited, the lawbringer continued on without mercy, “As you were found guilty of one class 5, and several class 4 crimes, you owe 2530 years of service to the governing city of Dorchester. Your citizenry profile has been adjusted to your new status, and you need to pick a path of service before you leave here today. Do you have any questions?” Looking up from the file on her desk with a bored look on her face, she stared at Mike, waiting for him to respond.
Mike wasn’t exactly familiar with how work programs… worked. So he replied dumbly, “Um. So how am I supposed to pay back 2500 years of service?”
Blandly, the lawbringer replied, “2530 years. And typically, you sign up for a path or service that you are already familiar with. You were a hunter before you tried your hand at political assassinations, weren’t you?”
Mike nodded, “Yeah, I ran a team specializing in aberrant eliminations, and resource acquisitions”
While Mike was speaking, she pushed a piece of paper across the desk and gestured for him to take a look.
“That is a work release contract from the military for hunters to join in a search and clear mission. It’s a combat unit, so you’ll be earning 1 year of service against your debt for every month you put in. Dangerous paths like this have an excellent return on time invested. If you agree, then you’ll be bunked with your team and your assets will be held in escrow by Dorchester for the duration of your service. When the path ends, I recommend you find another front-line assignment if you want a chance to earn your freedom before age creep catches up to you,” she said, as if Mike would be an idiot to inquire about any other options.
Ever since he was little, Mike had been easily steered toward decisions. He wasn’t what one would call, ‘strong willed’. So, without much thought, he replied, “OK. So, I go and join this search and clear team, and that’s it? I can work off my time?”
Sliding a pen across the table, the lawbringer said, “That’s correct. Unless you have some other skill that could be of use, I’d recommend getting started. Fill out this paperwork, and you’ll be with your new team before dinner.”
Only thirty minutes later, Mike was out on the streets of Dorchester once again. His weapons and gear had been returned, and he was sent on his way with his orders in his hand. Standing outside the Tower of Law, he read through the paperwork.
His situation was spelled out clearly. He needed to head immediately to Gate 22’s army command center and report in. Any deviation from his orders would have the guards coming after him and his initial charges reinstated. Serve or die, not much of a choice really.
Opening his link, he could see that his profile was currently restricted, and he was listed as a criminal under work release. Sighing, he mind drifted to his former team. The image of their dead bodies laying on the forest floor was seared into his mind. He said to himself, ‘I’m sorry guys. You were great friends, and even better team-mates. But, I’m still alive, and I plan to stay that way. Wish me luck from whatever afterlife you managed to scam your way into.’
After stashing the file in his personal space, he made his way toward the nearest teleportation platform. Surprisingly, he was feeling pretty good. In a way, it was nice not having to make any decisions for the next couple thousand years. It really took the pressure off.
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Nero stalked through the forest, keeping his steps light and trying to make as little noise as possible, his eyes and psychic field constantly scanning his designated area. He could feel the rest of the group moving in formation behind Sergeant Wesker. It had been nearly 20 minutes since they had moved on from the fight with the chihuahua-mob and Nero was starting to get extremely fed up with Nick.
They’d been communicating through their private connection, and Nick was being decidedly unhelpful. Nero had grown used to Nick’s overly complicated instructions, but this was bordering on useless.
With a scowl on his face, he maintained his vigil while he argued with Nick over their connection. “So, you’re saying I need to isolate part of my brain to maintain my constructed essence-shield, which isn’t a mental partition. And the only way to train it to do that is to practice doing it. But in order to do it at all, I’d have to partition my mind. Which you can’t tell me HOW to do, because ‘task automation’ is the first step which is done by doing it. My mind can train my brain, by THINKING about it. Have I got that right?” he asked acidly.
Nick’s reply was just as full of frustration as Nero’s. “That’s an oversimplification! Not to mention WRONG! You’re deliberately misunderstanding the principle I’m alluding to. The mind is NOT the brain. The brain is part of the body. When you create a construct, it is the function of the mind to manipulate the essence. It has nothing to do with the brain, except that it uses the brain to do it,” he said, as if he were being extremely clear.
Nero nearly stopped in place and screamed at the old man, but he managed to hold himself back. Taking several deep breaths, Nero replied, “Nick. I love you like a brother, but if you don’t start making some kind of sense, I’m going to stick my foot so far up your ass that your center will earn itself a boot print.”
Several seconds passed, as Nick needed some time to process that threat. The tension seemed to bleed out of their psychic connection, and Nick tried to explain it another way, “Alright Nero, let’s set aside the matter of mind partitioning for a moment, and discuss fields in general.”
Nero, not understanding the subject change, but willing to see where he was going with this, replied, “Sure. Essence fields are a product of the mind interacting with the essence outside our bodies.”
Nick replied quickly, his voice taking on a tone of patience. “Yes, but not exactly. Fields are much more complicated than that. Remember that your mind is the bridge between your soul and your body. Your body interacts with the physical layer of reality… on this plane of existence. When you affect the world around you, it is through your brain creating a psychic field of cause and effect. Think of a magnet exerting a field on a piece of metal, causing it to move.”
“Wait! There’s magnets here? Do you guys know about electricity and electrons and that kind of thing? Did I know about that already?” Nero asked excitedly.
“Nero! Focus… The body is res-,” Nick paused, unable to let it go, he said angrily, “What do you mean ‘There’s magnets here?’ What kind of idiots do you think we are? Of course we know about electromagnetic phenomena. We’re perfectly capable of transmitting energy through a polarized wire, but why would we? Dammit Nero, stop distracting me. What was I saying?” he asked, off balance by Nero’s question.
Nero smiled, and simply replied, “Fields.”
“Right,” Nick said, then continued on as if Nero hadn’t interrupted him. “So, the body affects the physical layer. The soul is what allows your field to affect the ethereal plane, or essence in general. It’s what you use to interact with the essence all around you. It is also responsible for feeding your mind the sensory information it needs to perceive the world around you. The two aspects of your identity are responsible for forming your essence field. The stronger your body, the stronger your physical aspect. However, your soul works in tandem to create the field. So it is only together that the field is formed, understand?”
Nero nodded, and replied, “I guess. The soul is like the power source, but the body makes it manifest? What about the mind then?”
Nick wasn’t willing to correct Nero’s assumptions, as his interpretation was close enough… kind of. “For now, you can think of it that way. The important thing to keep in mind is that a person’s essence field is the result of both their body and soul working together to anchor and interact with the physical and ethereal layers of reality on this plane of existence. Now the mind is responsible for giving that field purpose, and using it to do things. Things like telekinesis, carving spells, and observing essence fields and interacting with them,” Nick said, clearly believing that he had summarized the subject well enough for Nero to understand it, almost daring Nero to still claim ignorance.
Ignoring Nick’s tone, Nero replied, “OK. So the soul and body build the field, the mind gives it its identity. So what does that have to do with mind partitioning?”
Nero could feel Nick’s mind suffering some kind of shock. “Um, well, yes. The mind gives the field an identity. That’s an interesting, if crude, way of looking at it. I wonder if -” Nick replied, but was interrupted.
Sergeant Wesker’s strong voice barked, “Contact Front. Mob incoming. Get the crowd control up.”
Nero’s head and attention snapped to the front, despite knowing that he was supposed to be focusing on his assignment. He saw a group of over-sized squirrels with giant teeth rushing through the trees and along the forest floor.
Nero practically screamed in anger, “They’re squirrels. They can jump. Walls aren’t going to do shit. You know what…. Fuck this!”
Stomping forward, Nero hopped over the walls Nick was raising around the grouping party. Nero had no intention of hiding this time. The mob’s field hadn’t overtaken them yet, and he still had some time to prepare a spell or two. Not to mention that his mage-armor was still up. Although his head felt a little fuzzy, he was well enough to deal with these abominations.
‘I swear, if one more thing interrupts me learning how to fix my damn mage armor, I’m going to lose it,’ he swore to himself.
Grim-faced, he raised his hands out in front of him, and carved the largest spell form he’d ever made. “Smokey promised me… that only I can cause forest fires!” he yelled at the pests barreling through the trees.
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HereForHFY
When in doubt, kill it with fire!
