Amazon Apocalypse 6: Chapter 48

I spent several days following the same pattern. First, I worked on the walls. When people showed up, I put them to work hauling debris and shoring up the outer defenses. If they helped, I shared food with them and anyone else in their home.

A few bad apples and nastier groups tried to cause trouble. As I’d noticed back in Crownhill, the apocalypse warped some people’s perspectives. There were the same slavers and predators as usual, but here there were lots of cannibals, likely because of the food shortages. I had to put them down quick and quiet. In Crownhill, maybe we could have tried rehabilitation in the lighter cases, but the Marketplace Collective didn’t have prisons, courts, or even a justice system. It fell on me to tidy up as I saw fit.

I was certain rumors of my more ruthless activities were spreading, but the lure of food outweighed the fear. Each day, more people introduced themselves while I worked on the walls, and by now I was handing out stoneworking tools as often as I was working myself. Progress was accelerating. The first corner of the wall had taken most of the week, but the last stretch would be finished in hours thanks to the growing workforce.

By the end of the week, I’d found a few people capable of training others and directing the job to completion without my constant presence. I hadn’t slept the entire time, working day and night, so I started taking longer breaks to watch Reluna and Sharky hunt down undead. The pair of them had done admirable work. The only reason construction went so smoothly was because they’d cleared out everything that might have slowed us down. Not a single zombie, or even a fire squirrel, came close to my workers.

When I realized the wall could run without me, I decided I finally deserved a break. Reluna did too, though in her state, she seemed perfectly willing to fight day and night without stop.

“Hyaaa… mbllaa… aahh?” Reluna babbled incoherently as I swept her off her feet.

“Sorry, Reluna, but it looks like a Sharky victory to me. I’m giving you a break. But maybe I’ll give you a taste of the reward you’re after anyway. You’ll just have to wait until you can speak more than gibberish.”

“Mhmm…” Reluna moaned.

I ordered her suit to take over. Out of combat, she drifted off to sleep, and her armor’s servos carried her back to her bed in the Red Torii Group. If anything happened on the way, I could always take over and pilot her remotely.

Sharky, on the other hand, hadn’t slowed in the least. Quite the opposite. Every enemy he devoured fueled his hunger for the next kill. Sleep was for those of us who weren’t ever-hungry Void Leviathans. I spotted a few voidlings skittering along on the borders of the settlement. I'd have to make sure they were taken care of by the time I left. The plan was to leave this place safer than I found it, and replacing zombies with voidlings wouldn't do.

Sakura should have been winding down at Doomblade’s Armory by now. I’d sent her plenty of workers, and Gobgob should have joined her already. If I were lucky, I’d even get to inspect the first batch of goods.

Instead, what I found was chaos.

What had previously been an abandoned street corner was now packed with a crowd standing shoulder to shoulder. I recognized a few faces here and there from my labors during the week, but many were unfamiliar.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t mind volunteers showing up to try their luck at getting hired, though they would have had more luck volunteering for manual labor at the walls with me. Sakura was a much pickier boss than I was.

But at this point, I wouldn’t be interested in hiring anyone from the group. Things must have turned violent recently, because more than one person had chunks of bricks and paving stones in their hands. Part of my new headquarters was already burning as people stood around it and jeered.

The only thing keeping the crowd from charging into what was supposed to be our new workshop was a half-dozen guards from the Red Torii Group, all C-Grade Oni warriors. They stared down at the mob of angry, low-level humans with distaste clear on their faces.

To their credit, they were handling the mob well, all things considered. They must have taught a few rioters a lesson already, because the crowd stayed several paces back. I walked toward the front of the crowd. The warriors guarding the doors recognized me on sight and parted for me.

Instead of walking straight in, I stood by the front doors, turned and addressed the crowd.

“What’s all this about? Have I not given you food, work, and safety? Why are you trying to burn down my place?” I shouted. My tone was commanding, and my charisma abilities were in full effect. I watched some of the hostility fade from the eyes of the rioters, though not all of them. Diplomat’s Charm was useful in disarming hostile situations like this, as was Instrument of Fate.

A few whispers ran through the crowd at my appearance while I waited for someone to give me an explanation.

“It’s the magic food man. Wait! Don’t go to him, I heard he can kill you with just a thought,” someone whispered.

“He must be hiding his stash in there. There are hundreds of us here. We can take him!” another said.

“No! Don’t be a fool. He’s the highest-level person I’ve ever seen," a third warned.

Hushed whispers ran through the crowd, but eventually someone stepped forward to give voice to the mob’s anger.

“The food you’ve given us is not enough! We know you’ve got more in there!” a rough-looking man said.

“Greed, then? I’m disappointed. You’re wrong, though. The food isn’t in there. This here is a bag of holding, and it’s got all the food one person could ever eat. Do any of you think you can take it from me?” I held the bag aloft, tipped it, and poured out grain from Themyscira.

It looked like barley to me, but thicker and coarser. In the past, this was the sort of thing livestock would eat, but the apocalypse made desperate beasts out of everyone.

I dangled the bag of holding before the crowd, daring them to take it. Several accepted my challenge. They barely had a chance to rush me before they died in a burst of sudden and lethal spellfire.

The crowd was silent then, shocked by the speed and viciousness of the sudden violence. Only the faint glow of mana in my cupped hand showed that I’d even been the one to do it. One moment, a dozen men had been prepared to rush me. Then there were a dozen piles of shredded flesh on the ground.

I pointed my hand over the debris. I siphoned mana from the fires the rioters had set, putting them out and redirecting the flames to the corpses before me. That formed a crackling wall between me and the crowd, but I spoke over the flames.

“I am a generous man. Work for me, and you will not want for food, housing, or dignity. But don’t you dare make demands of me. Those of you who wish to eat can see me tomorrow morning at the wall. I’m hiring all able-bodied hands. Now go home and never disgrace yourself at my gates again.”

I waved my hands. Magic crackled overhead like a flare, though it did no harm. It succeeded in hurrying the crowd to disperse though. It was about a minute before they were gone, and one of the oni standing beside me took off his helmet and looked at me with new respect in his gaze. To my surprise, I realized it was Nakano himself.

“Well done, Carter Smith. Nothing I said would disperse the mob. I’ve never seen a man handle a crowd so well.” Nakano shook his head with genuine admiration.

I ran my hand through the hair on the back of my head. “I’ve had practice. I hope Sakura and everyone inside are alright?”

Nakano nodded. “She’s fine. The reason I came here was to protect her, after all. I’ll leave my men, but I have things in the Red Torii Group to attend to. Just be careful. You mentioned you didn’t plan to make waves when I gave you this building. So far, that hasn’t been true.”

“I’ll use more caution going forward. Thank you for your help tonight.”

Nakano left, though the rest of the oni warriors guarding the building stayed behind. I entered our new branch office and found it nearly as chaotic as outside, though it wasn’t violence this time. It was the panicked chaos of hundreds of new hires all desperately trying to figure out their jobs with far too few managers to train them. In truth, there was only one. Gobgob stood in the center of it all and, directing human scientists and engineers with casual authority I never would have seen from her before.

“You, humie. Tables here. We build helmets there. No, the breastplate stretcher goes on the breastplate workstation, bring it to the other side. You, white shirt! Put the laser engraver at this station.”

Gobgob seemed completely in her element, and my interference would only slow things down. I watched from the shadows a while and leaned against a doorframe until I realized I’d still be in the way there. I’d just have to congratulate Gobgob when things settled down.

So I slipped into the shadow realm, found Sakura, and emerged beside her. She was currently in the middle of an interview with a gaunt and greasy-haired man, but this was one-on-one and would slow things down much less to interrupt.

I stroked her cheek from behind, cupped her chin, and pulled her into a brief kiss.

“Carter! You’re back?” Sakura said when she realized who it was and instantly shifted from trying to smack me to trying to pull me in for another kiss.

“Only briefly. Your father and I took care of the rioters outside. Whatever workers I can’t use at the wall will come by and repair the damage tomorrow morning. I see you’re hard at work. It looks like this line goes out the door.” I glanced at her interviewee, who looked nervous as he shifted in his seat.

“I plan on hiring every qualified candidate we can work with. If we can’t use them here, we can always send them to one of our other branches in Crownhill, Themyscira, or Mucaria,” Sakura said.

“Now there’s a thought.” I hadn’t even considered shifting people around, but it was probably an easier way to fix the resource shortages here than restructuring the city, at least for the lucky few we decided to help out.

“Shall I cancel the interviews? I see you have something in mind,” Sakura offered. She had a familiar glimmer in her eyes. Her interviewee across from her slumped in his chair.

I chuckled. “I had hoped to take a little break, but it’s clear I dumped a bit more work on your shoulders than I intended. Let me pull up a chair and see if we can get through this line. Trim your questions down to just the basics. I’ll ask anything technical while you move on to the next candidate.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d helped Sakura do interviews, though it was probably the first time we’d returned to this old routine since the integration. She asked the general questions and tossed aside any with a bad attitude or a bad fit for the company culture.

Meanwhile, I asked probing questions about background and familiarity with the tools of the trade. Truthfully, most of these candidates had a tech background far better than my own when just considering pre-integration credentials. If not for Sakura’s help, I likely never would have gotten my old job.

But I’d done a lot of studying since then, and superhuman intelligence meant I could recall just about every bit of technical jargon I’d ever read. I’d brushed up on physics, electrical engineering, computer science, chemistry, metallurgy, and more while making things. As a result, I could keep up with most people even in their field of choice.

I found more than one person who was good at spouting buzzwords but not so knowledgeable at actually doing things. And I found others who were overqualified for the jobs they were applying for, but not as good at selling themselves.

I was quite a bit more generous in hiring than I would have been pre-integration, but Sakura had a good idea on filling out our workforce across the multiverse. Everywhere but Earth, it was easy to get enchanters and tough to get tech people. Here it was the opposite, which meant we needed to stock up while we could if we wanted to scale up making magitech. Besides, most of these guys Sakura passed on to me seemed quite desperate and willing to learn.

In the end, I gave Sakura the thumbs up for nearly a thousand people before the line was finally cleared, and she’d done that many on her own before I dropped in to help. I felt exhausted in body before, but now I feel it in my mind too.

By the time we returned to the room Sakura’s father had given us in the Red Torii Group, we were both exhausted enough that we scarcely did anything more than curl up together in the sheets.

***

The following day, I met people at the wall, got them working, then took a group of them with masonry and carpentry backgrounds to repair the damage the rioters did to our headquarters. I brought more than needed, since Sakura might want some renovations done to the place as well.

I met with her briefly to talk about it. We were short a few tools, but I could make most hand tools on the spot with nothing but some junk car parts, magic, and telekinetic powers.

We were finishing up when someone unfamiliar approached our new shop. That wasn’t too shocking, since plenty had come to try their luck getting an interview recently. But I sensed the man standing in the street, staring up at me, patching shingles, wasn’t here to apply for a job.

I felt him examine me, and I returned the favor a moment later.

Walter Godwyn of Bells Targo Financial Solutions (Level 145)

He had a very prim and proper look to him. Everything from he wore, from his watch to the finely tailored coat, screamed old money to me.

“Surely there are better ways for a man of your level to spend his time than patching roofs,” Walter said.

I dusted my hands and hopped down three stories to the street below, landing with a light touch.

“Honest work is good for the soul. I’m Carter Smith.” I held out my hand. Walter looked at it a moment, hesitated, then gave it a polite shake.

“I heard a rumor that a new corporation had opened in town. One connected to Nakano Miyamoto’s business.” Walter eyed me suspiciously.

I shrugged. “I’m dating his daughter. That's not a secret. Doomblade’s Armory is ours. We’ll finish the sign sometime today.”

“Doomblade’s Armory? I’ve never heard of such a business before. It sounds... alien.” Walter looked me up and down again, as though scanning for non-human features.

“We’ve had success on other worlds, yes. But rest assured, we were founded by Earthlings, albeit not until after the integration began.” I shrugged.

“It’s not often a new major player appears in town, but when they do, they are usually the puppets of greater off-world entities. The world of Onibushi tried to squeeze out the proper rulers of Earth before and failed. If you represent another faction, you will fail as well.”

Now I saw what this was about. This was the other corporation’s way of feeling me out. I could sense more than a little animosity in Walter’s body language. If I were two hundred levels weaker, maybe I’d have to play his game. But as things stood, it was better to just nip this problem in the bud.

“Rest assured, Walter. I’m not a pawn of Onibushi, or any ruler for that matter. And I truly am a human from Earth. I won’t lie, though. I have connections to other worlds, but only beneficial ones. Tell your friends that it’s a good thing I’m here. This city sorely needs a business like mine. Most of our goods will be exported off-world, and in exchange we’ll bring in food and other critical resources. You’ll see in time that our arrival is something to celebrate.”

“We shall see about that, Mister Smith. Be warned about making waves. You may have the support of the Red Torii Group for now, but I know they’ve lost the backing of their alien masters. They're more vulnerable than ever, and it may be time for someone new to lead the Marketplace Collective. If you truly wish to become a member of our society, don’t get in our way.”

With that, Walter turned and left. That was a warning if I’d ever heard one. The only question was what he had been warning me about.

<Note>

Weird how these minor events just seem to grow and grow on me. My outline said helping Nakano out would be a one-chapter thing. Now it's looking like it might be more like 5-8 chapters. Sometimes stories have a life of there own! Oftentimes, I feel less like I'm writing them and more like I'm peering into a real adventure happening on another world, and any control I think I have about how the story goes is just an illusion that only influences how the tale is told, not what actually happens.

Also, somebody tell Robert Baratheon that Gobgob has his breastplate stretcher.