Rain Harlow
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Chapter 93
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 15:00:15 +0000 UTCChapter 93: Something Surely Greater
As Jack cleared his throat and thought of how to reply, Ira pre-empted him. “Junior Agent Laker,” she began, her hands going behind her back, “cannot discuss classified information with you all, as yet. Perhaps some or all of it will be feasibly shared after you are full agents.”
Silent contemplation saturated the air for a few moments, making it grow heavy indeed. Jack glanced at Ira, but her face was neutral and serene.
They’ll think she’s involved, to speak out as such. Hmm. That might be a good thing. Less surprising if they find out the truth, even if they aren’t directly connected.
Highfive ultimately smiled, stood up straight, and shrugged. “No biggie. We know how it is. You just let slip that Big Iron is as awesome as I suspected.” He tapped his chest and pointed at Jack, grinning. “That’s my bro.”
Inkblot remained contemplative. “So… a hypothetical. Let’s say you performed actions that helped capture Allotment. You’d be owed a portion of that, one way or another. Have you asked for clarification on the distribution?”
Jack’s face twitched, wanting to frown, but he kept it smooth. “Hypothetically, why would it matter?”
“Understanding, efficiency, freedom. In terms of efficiency in the long-term, as much as possible saved for that daunting ass back end would be considered best… by default.”
Bo snapped her fingers and pointed. “I see where he’s going with this. Few cadets do something crazy like capturing Allotment. Being low level, Memoria would want to squeeze as much distribution as possible further down the line, where levels are harder.”
Jack was stunned. “She can do that?”
Bo made a dismissive face. “Of course she can. Why on Earth would that surprise you?”
“I’m new. Everything surprises me.”
Highfive smirked at Bo. “Yeah, don’t act like you weren’t the same way, Bo. You were a deer in the headlights for years, asking Light so many questions she wanted to toss you off the plat.”
Bo rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it kinda explains you leveling even faster than someone of your age should.”
“Because it would be staggered?” Jack asked. “Why?”
“It must be because some of what is owed has to be provided immediately. But if you accomplish relevant acts equivalent to higher levels, the System allows a distribution. Say you did enough to level from nine to ten. Why the hell should you be stuck at nine-point-oh when you get there? Why level two to four from risky shit, when you could’ve trained your way there? If you’ve accomplished the feats of a level ten at level two, you’re absorbing way more out of your experiences than most.
She shrugged. “Maybe that’s not technically enough to understand nine to ten level power, and so some of it is ‘wasted’ for lower levels. But logically, it’s worth a leg-up. Maybe you get nine-point-five or something by the end. Meanwhile, you get the benefit of increasing faster as you get there, the extra Allotment drip-fed slowly.”
“My point,” Inkblot added, “is you can probably demand more when you feel like it, if you disagree with her distribution. I’ve… heard… that she has to explain it. If you ask. Best done in the Calibration conflux.”
“Right. Knowledge is power. You’d be an idiot to get impatient, though. Delayed gratification is always sweeter.”
“Yeah, but what if he’s at five-point-nine right before the biggest match of the PACCs? Or he’s called out to the field where he could die? Who gives a royal shit about nine-point-five, then?”
Bo opened her mouth to reply, but immediately closed it and frowned thoughtfully.
Jack didn’t bother asking why Memoria didn’t mention it. It was always her policy to withhold information, deceive, lie, whatever it took, to achieve her own goals. She was only truly trustworthy insofar as you were aligned with them. Being untrustworthy, sadly, one could always think they were aligned while actually being not. Under her authority, the question was perpetual.
Nodding slowly for a while as he pondered it, Jack finally sighed and shrugged. “Thanks for the information, folks. Duly noted. I’ll check into it after training. Allegedly, that is.”
“Yes, these are merely hypothetical layman quandaries,” Inkblot offered, eyeing Ira.
Ira only quirked an eyebrow briefly, neglecting to comment.
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Training continued through the day, and then the night after a lunch break and rest period.
Inkblot ventured the eventual bringing in of Augur for analysis, but he’d used the promise as motivation for Augur to catch up on some long-time lagging study work through the day. Jack suspected it was also Inkblot wanting a little more time focusing on his own with the team. In any case, Augur was cleared for review of their prior fights and sworn to solemn secrecy. Inkblot claimed he could keep a secret; one just had to ‘emphasize it’ to him.
Bo experimented with and made keen use of her new debuff zone, which they came to call a ‘Sandy’. It was quickly found to work wonders as an opener and a distraction, as the enemy team would tend to assume that where it hit was where the attack would be focusing, and pivot to adjust to it, whether to spread out, hunker down, move in support, or the like. But it would usually be Highfive with some decoy metal support coming, such as a barely seen flashing dagger striking from a flank, easily mistaken for Inkblot if caught in the haze. Meanwhile, their true target was whatever separated foe, left unsuspecting of Inkblot’s secondary ambush.
Any sort of attempted bunching up in a match by enemies would get a Sandy dropped in, forcing either a massive downgrade to the combat effectiveness of most powersets, spread across multiple members, or forcing them to spread out to avoid the AoE. Either result was tactically great. In the former case, they could move in with the swift brick that was a Jack-supported Highfive, and thus begin creating distractions and opportunities when the bunching was invariably broken up. In the latter case, they could single out someone for an assassination via Inkblot, with less capacity for the others to come to their rescue.
They continued to have niche troubles. In one case, a buffer practically invalidated Sandy use by buffing their whole team’s perceptions, which also happened to make Inkblot unable to one-shot anyone due to the vastly enhanced senses. Other times, they faced psychics or degens who weren’t affected by the targeting, who also often had the annoying capacity to easily damage literally everyone on their team without Bo interfering — at great cost.
If the rest of the enemy team was good enough to weather the deadly first strike strategy somehow, the odds suddenly got pretty even. Time was Team High Life’s enemy, as getting into an attrition battle after a failed blitzkrieg was their worst-case scenario. Not that they couldn’t find a weakness to exploit in the second, third, or fourth waves. But, inevitably, Bo or Inkblot would tire, or someone would get injured, and they’d lose a collective step.
Exceptional defensive teams with some kind of circumstantial advantage were the primary ones that could beat them, as they were more suited to holding steady or recovering from near-disasters.
Offensive teams just had major problems getting through Bo’s capacity to sabotage strategy, and Team High Life was absurdly strong on counterattacks, with all four able to contribute in some way to a swing, collapsing on one target like four aligning storms of unignorable lethality. With each fight, they acted more and more instinctually with each other, conspiring and executing opportunistic, ruthless kill-strikes. No matter who you tried to ignore, you paid for it. In Highfive’s case, you might want to, but that was usually impossible when a giant hand was in your face.
That’s the thing about the big, goofy, cheery guy, larger than life, fun at parties — you might lapse and fail to take him seriously… But this monster would be the pinnacle of a star athlete if he weren’t here, and the military is in his blood. He’s got just as much killer instinct in him as Ink does, if not more. It doesn’t look that way, with his happy-go-lucky demeanor, but it’s there.
Bo, even, had become little different. The seed of it had been there already, but with a few upgrades to her confidence levels and her new team that effectively utilized her, supported her, and protected her, it had absolutely skyrocketed. She was like a vicious little feline out there, feral and aiming to put her fangs in your throat. She wasn’t running or avoiding death — she was killing you first.
With his ranged flexibility, Jack was often the one charged with saving Bo’s ass when the shit hit the fan.
In one scenario, Inkblot had reported, “Claw-guy coming behind Bo!” and Bo was locked in focus disrupting Ink’s target, with Highfive soaking up attention nearby them.
Bo didn’t even turn around, didn’t so much as twitch or glance, and certainly didn’t stop focusing. It wasn’t because she was suicidal or willing to ‘make a trade,’ not at all. It was tactical, because she knew who the information was for, and who had her back in that equation.
Knew and trusted him to have it.
Of all the times he’d wanted something amidst the up-and-down challenges of the chamber, coming through in that moment topped them all. Metal spawned behind Bo like a shining maelstrom. It had cost him a nasty bit of Fatigue at too high an output — and ultimately an angry claw that ripped even through a vest — but he got it done. She was left as untouched as a princess. They won the match with merely everyone else getting injured in the process.
When it was over, Jack had his helmet off and was leaning on his knees, utterly exhausted, sweating buckets, even breathing rather rapidly. He looked over at Bo, standing in the same position she’d been in most of the battle. She pulled off her helmet, slinging sweat from her matted hair. Her lip was busted and bloody from a previous match. Her eyes were wide and wild as she met his, showing some combination of exhilaration and bloodlust after helping execute three enemies. She smiled.
It was free of anything bitter, sarcastic, or predatory; free of her typical self-styled armor. It was the completely unadulterated smile of a comrade to a comrade in mutual appreciation… in something surely greater than the sum of flesh and teeth and random highs. Shared toil; shared drive and ensuing victory. Something indescribably potent and satisfying.
Jack returned the smile, feeling a bit like a thief snatching up a rare quarry, the target blissfully unaware.
After they’d worn and bloodied themselves into a bunch of dragging puddles of flesh by the end of the night, Jack and Bo were the last ones to shuffle into the gear room and dump off their gear.
As he was saying goodnight and heading out, Bo stopped him, seemingly awkward. “Hey… Jack…”
“Hey, Bo,” he quipped, smirking, sleepy, and somewhat delirious.
“Thanks.” Still awkward.
“Mmn? For what?”
She took a breath, seeming a bit annoyed as she looked away, setting a pistol down on a shelf. “Never mind. See you tomorrow.”
Jack studied her, sensing the mood and trying to sober himself up, even sore as a freshly beaten ham and swaying on his feet. “No need to thank me. Just some market trading.” She looked back at him curiously. “I need you at your best to pass grade, so I do what I can.”
Bo raised an eyebrow. “What’s the trade-off?”
“Putting up with your trying ass, of course.” He flashed a grin, winked, and headed out.
“Bastard,” she threw after him, in the slightly playful, acidic manner he knew was her true preference for showing affection.
Control: Cord has improved to 2.0!
Control: Throw has improved to 2.6!
Control: Collect/Collect (Sphere) has improved to 1.8/2.8!
Control: Spear has improved to 0.8!
Transmute: Quick-change has improved to 0.7!
Transmute: Fluidity has improved to 0.8!
Interpret: Fieldsense has improved to 0.5!
Parry has improved to 0.6!
G.P.E. has improved to 27%!
After a shower and a nap, Jack woke up to deal with the ‘other matter,’ going into Calibration even without a Fractional to claim. It wasn’t exactly useless after a ton of training, just a bit less tangible. ‘Reordering the junk.’
But Memoria seemed to already know why he was doing it. In the starry void, she was in a smaller sort of angelic form and had her fingers folding and resting between her legs. She seemed to be smiling slightly. “Yes, my son? To what query do I owe the honor?”
“Is what Bo and Inkblot said about my Allotment true? Do I have a surplus more or less held back?”
“Of course, Jack. You helped slay numerous of humanity’s enemies, protected assets who captured Allotment, freed the frozen asset that was Screamer, and helped foil the Dreamer’s plot, also infused with Allotment. It goes back and forth between ‘us’ depending on how things play out in the exchanges, but credit goes where credit is due. These were all technically non-training scenarios. Real power on the line, invested in another, or trapped. The timeframe doesn’t matter.”
Jack frowned. “Are you saying some of Screamer’s Allotment went to me?”
“In addition to what was tied up from the Dreamer’s gambled investment? Yes.”
“I really don’t like-”
“Captured Allotment, Jack. She’d never utilized it to begin with. You were owed a greater portion of it due to freeing it. Before you balk again, I don’t choose where it goes, silly, nor can you give it to another. You attain what you’re owed when you come here to claim it, either as immediate integration, or in the case of training, as potential held in reserve, drip-feeding as desired by a mediator. Me. That is no longer possible once your training wheels are off, and I can no longer influence your gains with my novel process of requirements and proving grounds. These are under rules, but more customizable.”
Jack mentally blinked a few times in thought. “Well. That’s… fascinating. Is there some particular reason for it? Is it simply to not ‘waste’ the free training gains?”
“They aren’t free, dear.”
“Comparatively less valuable?”
“Better. This is part of the reason. The other is safety. You cannot handle, say, four level gains at Access Level One. It would cause horrific psychological trauma, possibly wasting the Allotment on a damaged vessel. By level four or five, this expands to feasible for up to ten levels, and by level six, it’s no longer a consideration. Nonetheless, regulation can continue in a diminishing fashion, all the way up to level nine. By default, I squeeze as much as I can back, to maximize your total once attaining that level.”
“Ah. I suppose that makes sense, then.”
Memoria seemed amused. “Was there anything else?”
“Heh. Not so fast! There are a few obvious things I’m going to ask, but first, ah, what was the energy, the Allotment, doing when I was supposed to be getting it back before Q-Loth? Because I think you indicated that my fights back during the invasion incident gained Allotment.”
“That’s correct, son. Again, the time frame is irrelevant. The Allotment was trapped and screwed up. Technically, your achievements made things worse, cramming more nuggets in your direction without being able to get to you. A great curse of doomed potentiality. Heroism killing you slowly. There was nothing I could do about it until Q-Loth did its miracle work.” A pause as she looked away. “Trust me, I tried everything. On your ancestors, so to speak. The numbers we have are my existence’s work, such as it is.”
It certainly piqued Jack’s curiosity. “I don’t suppose I yet have the clearance to hear more about the corruption issue?”
She paused again as she studied him. “Not yet. A questing man should focus on one quest at a time. One damned holy grail is enough, isn’t it? Do you understand?”
Jack nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Mother.”
Her star eyes seemed to flash. “Let me put it to you this way: that greater world out there isn’t for everyone, whatever my hopes and dreams for you. Why would I want to dredge such things as this up, if you go out there and die on me like so many before you?”
Jack’s virtual self involuntarily ‘swallowed’ in some fashion to hear the seemingly genuine bitterness this subject seemed to summon out of Memoria. “I won’t.”
A sudden, tight smile. “I’d appreciate that. Now, get to the point of you being here. Much as one of my favorite children pawing at my bosom amuses me, there is a limit to my patience with the non-pertinent.”
“Wow. Ah. Right. Understood, Mother. Pertinent. I’d like to know what total Allotment I’m still owed, and some general idea of what the planned distribution is.”
“A total of four-hundred and thirty-eight. That would be roughly three levels at the moment. The plan is to hold as much as possible until the end of training, or Access Level Nine. That’ll be something around forty percent, but the way that it is parceled is a percentage of increased gains now, somewhat upticking over time. If you secure more Allotment beyond training gains, it will grow.”
“Damn. Three levels? So, I can ask for it all now, though?”
“Yes. I’d stagger it with a day between, for safety, mostly due to your newness to it all, but otherwise, yes. You’ll gain those levels anyway over time, via training, and essentially with an… ‘exp boost’ if you will, from the earned Allotment pool. Because I cannot withhold all of it.”
“And a little here and there, as opposed to asking for all of it, is not a big deal, right?”
“If you integrate an immediate ten Allotment now, that’s something like four Allotment not tacked onto the end of Level Nine. I suppose whether that matters to you is up to you. I can’t say whether that ends up being the four you come shy of Access Level Ten, by then. Not now, based on what you have and my assessment of what you’re likely to be at. Minimum, anyway. Selecting Primary bonuses — Create for you — jiggers with things. You utilize a higher Allotment without the actual Access Level. Almost the same thing, but not quite.”
“Mmn. I see.” Jack took a moment to pause and consider. If he was slightly shy of certain levels, he’d be willing to do it, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice the future for now, as a whole, not without a much more obvious reason for it. “Wait, weren’t you wanting me to advance quickly in the first place?”
Memoria sighed and shrugged. “Yes, Jack, but what good are the levels without training? They can’t guarantee you the jacket, either, nor can I. Remember, there are others, unseen and unknown by you, to convince. Central is not merely” — she thrust her hands out wide and raised her chin pridefully, as she grew in size and began shining brighter — “The Great Memoria, Savior of the Damned!” The effect dissipated as she shrank back down and gave Jack a flat look. “I am sure you can see the good work you’re doing progressing at precisely the pace you are. You’re a smart boy.”
Jack frowned at this, but nonetheless nodded. “Point taken. One last question. Do actual missions, sometimes with Allotment on the line, also count as training?”
Memoria smiled. “Of course. We double-dip in this order. Besides, true understanding and power come from legitimate veteranship. The System reflects it. Now then!” She suddenly pointed her finger and squinted her eyes ominously. Her voice gained an echo. “Leave hither my domain, foolish mortal! Thou must wasteth not the time of the goddess any further, for thou hast already obtained the wisdom due — and heeded it! And if thou art still set on such foolishness, the goddess commandeth: sleep thee on it!”
The starry void exploded and went white, sending Jack back to reality, a bit amused at how much of a nerd the ‘goddess’ could be at times.
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Comments
Alex Ledger
That team cohesion bit was beautiful, and Memoria is such a goofy nerd, love her for it.
