Monroe

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Four. Options.

Bob shifted, leaning forward to pour Monroe onto the table. He rubbed the big cat's cheeks as he considered his words.

Naomeh waited patiently across from him.

"How long do the Eire live?" Bob asked.

"If they choose not to advance, eight hundred years," Naomeh replied.

Bob nodded. "Over the course of the past two hundred years, humanity on Earth has gone from travelling across the country on horseback, a journey that took years, to soaring above it, traversing that same distance in mere hours. We harnessed the power of the very stars themselves, all without the System, or any access to mana. We accomplished this through strife and struggle, not against monsters, but against ourselves."

He paused took take a sip of water from a glass pulled from his inventory.

"While most of our societies prefer to look at our progress as inevitable advancement, men and women of science working together towards the goal of a brighter future for all mankind, the truth is much darker." He shook his head. "Nearly every advancement came about from one nation or another attempting to develop either a tactical or strategic advantage over another. There is very little we could offer you that doesn't have some sort of military application."

Naomeh shook her head gently. "Your people stand on the fifth step of the mortal tier," she said. "Without access to the System, magic, or skills, I doubt your weapons would be of any interest to us."

"Show me one of your cities," Bob said grimly. "You can shape earth, I'm sure, so cast a model for me."

Naomeh raised an eyebrow, a smooth motion that still struck him as odd. Marble shouldn't move that way. She raised a hand, and a stone bowl appeared, the bottom of which was covered in stone buildings, the shortest towards the edge of the bowl, and the tallest near the center. The center itself was empty. "The cavern would measure a mile across, and half that in height at the center, a quarter at the edges," she said.

"Are the buildings reinforced at all?" Bob asked, peering at the model.

"Nothing beyond two feet of solid stone," Naomeh replied.

Bob nodded, leaning back. "Yeah, it's gone." He waved his hand, cutting the flows of mana maintaining her spell, causing the model to fall to the table as sand.

Naomeh gave a start as he dispelled her casting. "What do you mean, 'gone?'"

"What I mean is that we have weapons that render that entire city to dust, and it would take less time for it to happen, than to speak the word," Bob replied. "No mana, no spell. Just a box smaller than you or I."

He shook his head again. "Our world has enough of these devices to destroy hundreds if not thousands of cities. While I'm not about to give you one, or even tell you how we made them, the fact of the matter is that any technology I share with you is a piece of the puzzle."

It was Naomeh's turn to shake her head. "Surely the image recorders, despite a possible tactical advantage, aren't dangerous?"

Bob smiled grimly. "Those 'image' recorders, are called drones. They were developed to deliver death from across the globe, that the person responsible for directing it need never risk themselves. We've merely adapted them for other uses."

Naomeh sat quietly for a few moments, her marble features giving nothing away.

Bob wasn't particularly good at reading people, he was self aware enough to know that, but she was, quite literally, a statue.

"I can sense your fear, as well as your resolve," she said quietly. "While I have my doubts that your weapons could do what you claim, I acknowledge that you believe it. I will not pressure you for access to any of your technology."

Bob let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he grimaced, "I'm all too aware that you could have simply taken it."

"I'm an ascendant. Even if it weren't immoral and against my nature, I couldn't do so," Naomeh replied.

"You could point Ordast and a few hundred of his friends toward us with a suggestion that it would be nice if we 'shared,'" Bob said.

Naomeh shook her head again. "That won't happen, so perhaps we can discuss the possibility of your colonization of the dark worlds?"

"The 'Dark Worlds?'" Bob asked incredulously.

Naomeh blushed, once again leaving Bob distracted as he contemplated just exactly how marble blushed. He knew that pink marble existed, but how her cheeks shifted from white to pink was a mystery.

"A designation for a contested world which has been lost," she explained.

"Okay," he said, causing Naomeh's lips to curl up into the slightest of smiles. "Ominous and a little foreboding. We'll probably call them something else."

"There are one hundred and nine solar systems with planets inside the blessed ring," Naomeh continued. "Of these, seventy-one are red in color, twenty orange, fourteen white, and four blue. The mana density ranges from the fourth step of the mortal tier, to the eighth step of the ascendant tier."

"So many tasty options," he mused.

Naomeh cocked her head curiously.

"Just an expression," Bob shook his head. "So, assuming we are willing to take advantage of your generosity, how exactly would we get to this part of the universe?"

"Vorstach, as well as the cold one, have discovered and mapped out a series of mana streams that allow a vessel to move from one part of the universe to another in an instant," she replied.

"Wormholes?" Bob asked.

"That's what I..." she trailed off, frowning. "The translation power of your title is amazing." She shook her head. "Yes, whatever word you used means the same thing as mana streams."

"So you've got a network of wormholes that you use to move around," Bob mused.

"We do," Naomeh nodded. "There is a wormhole near this solar system, which is one of the reasons it was chosen to host a seed world."

"How long would it take to get to one of those 'dark worlds', one sitting at the eighth step?" Bob asked.

"Two, perhaps three months," Naomeh replied.

"Do the wormholes go both ways?"

"They do."

"I'll have to bring this to my group," Bob warned. "Two to three months of transit from this place to a world of our own isn't that bad, but it's still one of the many things to discuss."

"I understand," Naomeh smiled, reaching into her bag and placing a small square of stone on the table. "Should you wish to speak further, simply guide mana into the stone and I will come."

As she pulled out her chair and stood, Monroe stretched out an inquisitive paw, and started gently nudging the stone toward the edge of the table.

Bob quickly moved to grab it before Monroe could accomplish his task.

"Some sort of divine mandate," Bob explained, pocketing the stone. "He has to knock unattended, preferably delicate items, off any sort of table or shelf he can get to."

"We need to find out more about wormholes," Amanda said firmly.

"I still don't understand why they need us," Eddi shook his head.

"Because they fucked themselves," Mike replied. "The two big poobahs laid down the law that they can't pull things from other dimensions, or go there themselves. That means they're pretty well fucked. I'd bet that the Eire, Irth, and Lhorne are the only species in this universe, and it sounds like the Eire and the Irth fucked the Lhorne over pretty badly."

"We're an unexpected windfall," Wayna agreed. "One that isn't likely to happen again."

"We need to find out how they detect and use wormholes," Amanda reiterated. "Half the troubles on Earth could be fixed if we could offer new worlds to be settled, with easy access back to Earth."

Bob nodded. "I didn't think of that, but Dave and Amanda are right. Assuming a network exists in our universe, that knowledge would trump the hundred and nine solar systems they are offering us."

"Can we even use them?" Jessica asked. "I mean, you're giving it your all to jump us around, yeah? You've got achievements and titles, and you've burned a load of your threshold bonuses to do it. Ordast said the Lhorne aren't getting here for ten years. Why so long if they have these wormholes? I'd wager that the Lhorne have to get here on their own because of a non-interference policy the Eire have, but that means the Lhorne, who are colonizing a tier eight worlds, aren't able to use the wormholes."

"Shit," Dave muttered.

"That's one of the things we need to find out about the wormholes," Amanda agreed.

"I'd argue that it's likely the most important things," Mike said. "If we can't utilize these wormholes, and don't I just love the idea of going something like that, we'd basically be stuck in the general area of wherever they dropped us off. I'd like to Earth and Thayland again, at some point."

"I second that," Eddi added.

"I think we all want to be able to get back home again," Wayna said.

"Let's ask her then," Bob said, taking out the stone and pressing the symbol carved into it.

He watched as the stone attempted to pull mana from his matrix. The enormous amount of time he'd spent practicing system-less casting had given him a degree of awareness and control over his mana that he wouldn't have otherwise had. He allowed a trickle of mana to flow into the stone. It absorbed ten points of mana, then pulsed once, before going inert.

Naomeh flowed up from the stone floor. She looked around the table, her gemstone eyes cataloging everyone before turning to Bob.

"That was rather immediate," she murmured.

"My friends are smarter than I am," Bob replied, "they immediately asked how these wormholes work? We'd rather not be stranded in the center of your universe, and with a ten year lead time for the Lhorne to arrive, we're wondering if there aren't special skills, or a certain amount of power needed to navigate them."

Naomeh nodded. "Mortals aren't able to sense or access the wormholes," she began. "There are certain changes when an individual becomes an ascendant which allow their use."

"You're talking about the whole bit where you trade out biological process in favor magical ones, yeah?" Jessica asked.

Naomeh grimaced, "I'm not permitted to explain the details of ascendancy to mortals."

"Why not?" This time it was Mike who spoke up, his tone that of the hardened and careworn detective he was, rather than the handsome young man he appeared to be. "The System makes it pretty simple to tier up," he continued, "so it's not like we have to know some secret ritual or skill to do so. The System wants us to keep grinding it out, cycling that mana, so while it might not make it easy, it doesn't put any roadblocks in the way. So who says you can't tell us the details?"

"Vorstach and Baldarkurax have agreed that this knowledge is to be restricted," Naomeh replied.

"Oh, keeping the lower class ignorant until they've bought into the system," Jack faux whispered. "Classic authoritarian move. Lenin would be proud."

"Do the Eire know that once you hit tier ten, you can't have children?" Amanda asked.

"That is pretty important," Dave agreed. "I mean, we know that as long as we are careful and follow the rules, we've got nothing all the time we could want, but what if we didn't know about the changes and pushed to tier ten, expecting to be able to have kids? We'd be devastated. We're not ready yet, but we've talked about it, and we'd like to, someday," he finished, wrapping his arm around Amanda's shoulders.

"Hang about, do they know you can press the god button?" Jessica asked, turning to Bob. "That's how it works, yeah? You hit tier ten and take the skill that discorporates you, and you start answering prayers and providing blessings, all that shit."

"From what I understand," Bob began, utilizing his favorite expression for relying information he shouldn't have any business knowing, "the skill is only available if there is a portfolio available. So if you wanted to become the goddess of beauty, that portfolio would have to be empty. If you venerated the goddess of beauty, you could possibly accept a blessing that allowed you to become a subordinate to them, something like the demigoddess of perfect skin."

"Woah, woah," Jack said loudly as he stood up from the table. "Did you just try to flirt?" He asked incredulously.

"I'm damaged, not blind," Bob replied, "The comment was meant in much the same fashion as if I'd suggested you become the demigod of perfect teeth."

Jack grinned, flashing his brilliant smile around the table.

"As I was saying," Bob continued, "it's all about availability, and from what I have gathered, Vorstach and Baldarkurax have taken the burden of all the portfolios in this universe."

He looked Naomeh directly in her multifaceted gemstone eyes. "Except for Vi'Radia, Mor'Noctum, and Logos."

"The agreement between Vorstach and the cold one prohibits worship of the Primordials," she said. "Eire pledge themselves to Vorstach, and Irth to Baldarkurax, which grants access to magic schools and spells."

"Hold on, so if we reincarnate, we have to either go with those three?" Erick asked. "Because, and I mean no offense, I'm not interested in picking sides in some ancient, intergalatic war."

"Pretty much," Bob agreed.

"Ok, so that's not happening," Erick said firmly. "I know that none of you have truly felt the call, but I'm not a spellcaster who uses magic from the Divine sphere, I'm a priest."

"That's a fair cop," Jessica directed a smile toward Erick, "I'm definitely the former, and I hadn't considered that you have actual faith."

"Well, aside from necessitating a quick trip back to Thayland for Erick to reincarnate so he can get his divine blessing from Sylph, I don't think it changes much," Bob said.

"Except it does," Bailli said coldly, looking at Naomeh. "I'm not sure I want to rely on the good graces of the lackeys of two beings who would consign an entire universe to relying on their own flawed guidance." She looked around the table, holding each persons gaze with her piercing grey eyes. "I fled Thayland because the Church of the Light had proven a threat to any and all who failed to abase themselves, specifically to those who allied themselves with Bob, a man who gave of himself without asking for anything in return." She clenched her arm, a gesture lost on most of the table, but Bob knew that was the arm he'd payed to have regrown for her. "I don't regret leaving with my friends, but I don't think it's a good idea to step into this muck either."