Your brain has the remarkable ability to look past things that should make it go absolutely insane. For example, a cupboard at one gee, inside a station with only nought point three gees standard was impossible. It wasn't just 'unlikely' or 'rare'. It was just straight up, not possible. So of course the human brain looked at the impossible and said to itself 'well what about the doorway? Gravity doesn't work that way' and convinced you to hyper focus on how impossible it was for there to be a sharp cut off of gravity in the doorway to the cupboard rather than the cupboard itself. It sliced away at impossible and cut it down into manageable chunks of insanity. Of course it could only do that to a limited extent; a cupboard was one thing, but an island? Yeah that was another.
The impossibility of my gravity defying workshop had been replaced with the impossibility of there being an entire floating island in my cupboard. An expanse of green grass leading out to a tower of oily black stone that jutted up from in front of a tangle of trees. Above it there was a wheeling blue sky dotted with only a few innocently fluffy clouds, casually drifting by in their abject defiance of sense. I walked out into it; groaning slightly at the pleasure of a hot sun beating down on my head, and the gentlest of breezes tickling my hair. Things that I never thought I'd ever feel again since ending up on Ceres. While I did so, I slowly became aware of the twelve figures that also occupied the sky.
All of them looked at first like half there twisters, I'd nearly dismissed them as figments of my imagination at first, or maybe a heat haze. But the longer I looked, the more concrete the details became. Blurred smears of faint lightning where their eyes would be; a twist of chain around where their necks would be, and the outline of greying clouds around their bodies that gave an impression of folded arms and muscled forms. They resembled a fantastical drawing of air elementals from when I was a child, or the more esoteric images of Dijins from mythology. I awkwardly waved at the three that were watching me from behind where the workshop door connected to the island. They stared back for a moment; then floated further out, seemingly content to ignore me. So I made my way to the tower ahead.
Entering was simple, on approach, a seam grew from the floor, stretching upwards and forming a twin set of black stone doors that swung open to reveal the ground floor. The workshop had been relocated there, without any major changes I might add. The only thing different was the lack of philosophers stand, and the replacement of the strip lighting with floating shards of glowing crystal. At the far end of the tower was a set of stairs that led to the second floor; that was where I found a major change.
The second floor was denoted by a large doorway, sealed with a twin set of silver doors, intricately carved with what looked like alchemical inscriptions. When I opened them, I nearly backed out there and then. The inside was lit by a cluster of glowing blue crystal spheres, that cast a dim wavy light onto everything in the 'lab.' Making the entire room feel faintly aquatic. The walls were covered in shelves containing glassware, common alchemical reagents, and various potted plants. In the centre of the room there was a stone depression ringed by various brass bowls and sticks of chalk. All of that would have been fine, except it wasn't just that. Half the walls had wooden tables underneath the shelves but the other half had lines of cages - sized from 'rat' all the way up to 'gorilla' sized - and three floor to ceiling bronze cylinders. The cylinders were the worst things; they each could be opened from the front and sealed to a watertight level. A porthole with a brass disk attached could be used to view the progress of whatever unholy creature you were brewing inside it.
It was in effect, the perfect workshop to do alchemy in. It even had a place for the philosophers sand - an illuminated alcove sequestered away near the 'grittier' alchemical reagents - and the rune carving kit. Though, I did get the vague impression that the kit would be moved soon? It was odd, like the tower itself didn't like the kit being splayed out on the same desk as the out dated medical tools. The floors past the alchemy lab weren't anywhere near as interesting though; all oft hem were empty, without even the glowing crystal shards of the first two floors. After the fifth - of thirty - floor of complete darkness illuminated by my pad torch app, I didn't bother going further.
I moved out of the tower quickly after that, not only did the alchemy lab give me the creeps, but I also got the distinct sensation that there was something watching me - not helped by the door to the alchemy lab swinging closed after I left - which didn't follow me outside. Plus, the smell of fresh air was still absolutely divine. I took a short walk around the tower - it was roughly the size of a city block, without the sharp edges - and found a small cluster of bushes just before the forest proper started.
"Oh fuck that's good." They were strawberries! Thick, plump, juicy strawberries with just the right mix of sweet and sharp flavours. After eating my fill of those I tramped through the woods for short while, hoping to maybe find evidence of animals frolicking nearby that I could also eat. My biologist mind was saying that if there was green stuff, then there was something eating the green stuff - especially with how neat and traversable the underbrush was - and that would mean there were things eating the things eating the green stuff. I was hoping for a full sized deer, or a muntjac; but I'd settle for squirrels, or fowls. Anything with meat on its bones really. But after fifteen minutes of walking I reached the edge of the island without seeing hide nor hare of anything bigger than a woodlouse. I didn't ruminate on it, I just looked around for something less meaty to eat.
"Now, how to get that down?" I murmured aloud. That in turn prompted another surprise to reveal itself. The leaves rustled gently, then an apple twisted itself off the branch and floated down in front of me. I once again got the feeling of being watched that I'd felt in the Alchemy lab; but this time it was also tinged with a faint air of expectation. I took the apple out of the air and took an experimental bite; crisp and delicious. The expectant air remained.
"Thanks?" The air faded along with the feeling of being watched. My new island apparently came with ghost butlers as well; because of course it did. Why wouldn't it. Air elemental guardians, and invisible servants; because it was a wizards tower after all. While munching on the apple, my pad buzzed again; Nicaro was messaging me again about work, I'd completely forgotten that he was waiting on a reply from me actually; which was definitely understandable given where I was. I held the apple in my mouth while I typed and walked. Before I reached the door, I suddenly had an idea - an experimental idea - about the food just 'hanging' around on my island.
"I really want there to be a nice big bag of strawberries when I get back!" I called out to whatever weird power was listening, then made my way to Nicaros shop. If that worked then I'd have a sack of delicious and valuable fruits to hawk to someone when I got back; and if it didn't work then I could just go and collect them myself when I had some free time. Either way I lost nothing. I had somewhat of a spring in my step when I arrived at the shop. I had a belly full of fruit, a decent amount of cash in my account, and there weren't any dead junkies rotting up my path. Like before, he locked the place up when I arrived; but both Mansa and Solomon were missing this time. It was just me and him as he explained the job to me.
"So, you want me to grab the guy from the dock?" I asked slowly, really hoping I'd misunderstood him. He nodded, raising an eyebrow at me like I was a little bit mentally insufficient.
"Yeah, you get him as he comes through immigration control; nice and simple ke?"
"That's a lot more than just grabbing some arsehole off of the street There's actual security down at immigration control. Can't I just grab him when he gets into the station proper?" I protested, bringing up my memories of the camera riddles, high security, high visibility cluster of scanners, desks and eagle eyed Star Helix cops.
"No Earther; he gets onto Ceres then he's gonna be dust on the ring, poof." He raised his hand and opened all the fingers, mimicking a comet or asteroid shattering to dust. So, the guy was slippery then? That might be a problem, immigration control didn't fuck around; they weren't just arseholes on the beat. They packed actual firearms, they knew how to use them and they weren't shy about blasting down jumped up gangers that only saw the Star Helix rental cops and assumed they could do as they please like normal. A bullet to the back of the head and a lifetime view of the stars - up close and personal - was often the reward of that hubris. Or so the local intranet had told me. I said as much to Nicaro; but he simply shrugged.
"If you don't want the work, you don't have to take the work ke-sa?"
Did I even want the work? I now had more than just a cupboard to call my own 'space'. I had an island, with a tower, and a small patch of land attached to it. I could get seeds to grow actual food there easy enough as well; if they were real, they were pricy but they did even sell it on Ceres. Phosphate levels might be a pain to get a proper hold of, anything good for growing organics was expensive - I checked - because all of it was eaten up by the greedy agri-domes on Ganymede. If it was a matter of food, I could simply live on my little island, grow some food and probably live a fairly easy time selling that. I'd already committed to helping out as much as I could though, and becoming a farmer wasn't really going to fit into that. Of course, neither would staying as muscle for Nicaro, not long term anyway. But it may give me at least a better lay of things. If I was serious about pitching in then I needed to make an effort to try and really get stuck in with the local players. Nicaro wasn't big; but he was definitely OPA.
"I never said that; I'm just saying, that might be a
problem."
"Might not be, and if it is. You talk nice and fancy Earther to them, they leave you alone." He was severely overestimating exactly how much leeway 'talking fancy' would give me. I wasn't talking my way out of having to be down the docks. He was also probably right, I was the best fit for grabbing him there. Solomon stood out like a sore thumb and I'd bet good money on him having some previous run ins with Star Helix that'd get him flagged the second he started loitering near immigration. Mansa was too frail to make any sort of grab attempt; him trying to kidnap someone would probably end with the guy accidentally crushing his spin when he fought back. I was an unknown on the station; I looked like I could just be waiting for a friend, or a relative to arrive. The guy coming off the ship would be unlikely to make me as his abductor; and once I had my hands on him he likely wasn't breaking free.
"Simple job, the man we need is Kenzo Gabriel; a fake name. He's inyalowda; like you. A spy for Earth;
not like you." So of course I would have the best shot at grabbing him then; me and him both grew up in 1G so at least we should be evenly matched. Assuming of course that he didn't have some hitherto unknown spy training that would let him turn me inside out with kung fu ... or he had a gun, if he had a gun I was pretty fucked. An Earth spy definitely had at least some firearms training, which would trump my 'no' firearms training. Also, had heard that name before, I just couldn't put my finger on where; which was weird considering that until about a week ago I didn't even exist around here.
"So, you need any tools?" Nicaro interrupted my ruminations.
"Tools?" Was he taking the piss out of my hammer? I could definitely do some damage with that hammer if I wanted to.
"Yeah; tools." He pulled a silver ribbed case from under the counter; and opened it on the countertop.
Inside the small case was a collection of what were clearly firearms. A collection of black and grey pistols neatly slotted in next to each other. I was about to protest when I saw the 'vac-safe' label on the handles of them. These weapons were specifically made for use near the 'skins' of ships. The largest of the pistols was some sort of gyrojet gun. I gingerly lifted it out and examined it more closely; my newfound engineering comprehension filled me in on how it worked. An eleven shot magazine, each rocket was synced to a laser sight on the top of the gun, making it 'vacuum safe'. You pulled the trigger halfway and the laser turned on, lased down a range and sent it back to the rocket, then pulling it the rest of the way would fire of a rocker that detonated mere milimetres away from the target. The tiny warhead on the tip was a near perfect concussive charge; no piece of shrapnel larger than a paperclip. Theoretically I could magdump into a spaceside window and it wouldn't even crack the glass. I wouldn't be testing that, but it was better to have any safety net than having no safety net.
"Not a bad piece Earther. You need anything else?" He jerked his head towards the back of the shop; I could see a 3-D CNC machine and a printer underneath a plastic sheet. I briefly considered asking to use them, but realistically I had nothing to do with it; any alchemy circles I made would be haphazard at best. I'd be better off using the lab I now had on the island. I shook my head and - after checking the safety - shoved the pistol in my jacket pocket. Nicaro handed me two spare clips of rockets, then held up his pad.
"Details" He clarified at my questioning look, I nodded then I held up my own pad.
He tapped his pad against mine; sending over the details of the guy I was supposed to grab and I knew immediately where I knew the name from. He was the spy that Earth snuck aboard the Rocinante from Tycho. The one that set up the crew ready to be knocked down and killed by the UN blacks ops team. The one that Fred Johnson didn't realise was siphoning data from his systems and feeding back to Earth companies. The one that got integrated into the protomolecule; but more importantly, the one that told the crew of the Rocinante how to avoid getting boarded by the MCRN patrol craft. Without him they weren't going to get away without being boarded; and if that happened then they were never going to find the Anubis, or make the connection between the stealth ships, Toth station and Protogen. This, significantly complicated things for me.
"You good?" Nicaro asked, noting my sudden silence with a raised brow.
"Yeah, when's his ship coming in?" It was a pretty good stroke of luck that Nicaro was getting lumped with this job.
"Look see." He tapped his pad again, taking control of mine and highlighting the incoming personnel manifests. Two days away if they made a rendezvous with a second cargo freighter they were scheduled for; one of they didn't. So worse case was I had a single day to plan a play where I get me, and this spy off of Ceres, underneath the eyes of Nicaro and whoever asked him to field this job. Then we needed to get back out to Tycho; meet up with the crew of the Rocinante and somehow assist them in getting through the MCRN trade inspection zone. All without getting shot, made or tossed out an airlock. Or ... I could send a
message. I relaxed slightly at that thought. I was in the 'future', everyone was microchipped to hell and back, every detail was meticulously noted down somewhere. The only way to hide was in plain sight or through obfuscation. I didn't need to physically get onto Tycho; I just needed to send them a message.
"Thanks." I muttered, then pocketed my pad. Nicaro ushered me out of the shop and sealed it behind him, leaving me meandering around the streets with my mind a mess. Kenzo being here wasn't part of the plan - in so far as there was a 'plan' - he was a left field shot that I didn't expect to see. I was going through things almost by rote; letting things happen, then preparing to react to them rather than actively trying to predict them or changes to them that could occur. I was the proverbial butterfly flapping its wings; and with how far out everyone was connected in this world, I could be making hurricanes with every flap. Waiting for those same hurricanes to come and flatten me and my designs wasn't going to work. I needed to be more pro-active.
"Find me, hardware stores." I raised my pad to my lips and whispered to it as I walked. It gave me the nearest route to a cheap second hand parts store. 'Ships, chips and dips'. Cheap and cheerful down by the docks according to the review. When I arrived, I agreed with the review, cheap and cheerful was exactly what it looked like. It wasn't even a proper door; or a proper shop. It was a cluster of shipping containers all fused together, with plastic flaps on the front serving as an entrance.
Entering I was presented with a floating drone the size of a Dalmatian; it buzzed at me and synced with my pad. [HAULER 6 LINKED, VERBAL COMMAND INPUT]. It was a 'self service' system them, made sense. No point hiring someone to haul heavy gear when a machine could do it easier and for cheaper. I began walking down the isles of busted machinery while the drone followed. To my engineers mind the entire place was like a candy store. It was an odd sensation really; the technology was fantastically advanced compared to my own time on Earth; but compared to my understanding of engineering that Megas XLR granted; and the intuition that weaponizing mining gear granted it was almost quant looking.
"I'll take the err, that." I gestured with my finger at a partially assembled small magnetic bottle. The drone helpfully hooked it down and hauled it onto my cart. I soon added a cluster of sensor packets, a smart drone computer, and a dozen other parts to put towards the design going through my head. Most of the parts of a Megas XLR weren't available here for obvious reasons; I couldn't even build the tools, to make the tools that would make the tools to make the parts I would need for something like that. But I did now possess a gifted understanding of how a lot of those parts worked, how to fit them and how to kitbash a lot of them. Giant robots were off the menu - for now - but I could make something that would be helpful from the parts I had with me. A big part of being an engineer was after all, knowing how to innovate out a solution on the spot.
"That everything bossmang?" The bored looking teen clerk asked, crunching away on some piece of mysterious fried food from a silver foil packet.
"Yeah...wait, you sell ships?" The clerk at the counter looked me up and down dubiously, obviously doubting my ability to actually pay for any of the ships he sold; but dutifully brought up a list - with images - of what was for sale at dock. Most of it was pure trash, second hand junkers, barely functional flying scrapheaps that were going for barely above the prices you'd pay for the materials by themselves. That was fine, I wasn't interested all that much in buying one of them. I just was glad to know which ones were at dock and unmanned.
"They come with fusion pellets?" I asked, tapping out the credit transfer for the parts I'd already selected; most of my recent payout went into these.
"If you
pay for the pellets they do." He scoffed, then closed down the window; I suppose me doing the space version of 'does this car come with petrol' was a pretty good indicator that I wasn't going to be taking any of the flying hunks of crap he was selling as ships. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, get me that hydrogen compressor will you. The little one." If I couldn't easily get the pellets; then I could just
make them myself. Once it was all paid off I arranged for it to be shipped to my little room via drone; the clerk once again gave me a dubious look once he read the address, but once again complied. As I was walking back to my apartment I once again got a pulse behind the eyes; but this time I felt a vague feeling of ... 'biology'. It wasn't so much the intent behind the last few things I'd received, but rather some sort of implication of what I'd been given could be used for. I got the distinct feeling that it was something to do with modifying biology, or changing biology in some way. Part of the pro-active approach I needed to take meant taking it towards the things I was being given by my 'power' as well. So to that end, I spent the very last of my wages on a box of cute little white rats, and a malnourished looking rabbit. They looked at me with some animal intelligence while I walked them up the tower steps.
The rats I secured in the small cages inside the alchemy room; putting in a few of the strawberries that had floated over to me when I'd arrived. There was - sadly - no bulging bag full of them when I got back; which meant that whatever invisible forces that lived here didn't obey my commands when I left the island; or they didn't remain active when I left the island. Either way it meant I couldn't just give them a command then leave them building, or collecting for hours at a time without me being here. Which was a shame, but not world ending.
"Yeah, sorry guys." I murmured to the rabbit, gently stroking the back of its neck. The opening to the third floor had been replaced with a thick steel bulkhead door, decorated with a trio of radiation warnings, biohazard symbols and a skull and crossbones. "Looks like it's not the er, fun kind of biology." The rabbit seemed to almost glare back up at me. I understood his anger, I really did. Poor little guy, Still, sacrifices had to be made in the name of discovery; I couldn't just ignore it because it might end up hurting a rabbit or some rats. The inside oft he 'lab' was a bare, sterile looking room filled with microscopes, slides, burners, a wash sink and a load of high quality looking chemistry glassware. I left the rabbit caged on one of the three room length workbenches while I made my way over to the walk in cold room where my newest 'gift' was waiting for me. Three long syringes filled with a pink solution. They were stored on the 'active material' tray against the wall in a sealed plastic bag with the label 'Gourmet' printed on it along with a biohazard warning.
I snapped on a pair of gloves, donned a labcoat and goggles and opened the voice recording app on my pad. Then gently transferred the struggling rabbit to a clear plastic incubator, prepping syringes and a slide for examining blood under the microscope.
"I will begin with a blood sample of the healthy test subject, and expose it to the 'Gourmet Cells' which will be referred to as 'G cells' from now on. Taking blood now.."
E-=-X
Gourmet Cells (Toriko) (100CP)
You acquire either 3 Injections of Gourmet Cells capable of granting Gourmet Cells in a matter of hours or enough Gourmet Pills to grant 3 people Gourmet Cells over the course of a 5 year period through daily ingestion. Injections are a quick way to power up but very few survive the process while Pills have a significantly higher success rate but take time. Acquiring either grants you the ability to harvest Gourmet Cells and create your own Injections and Pills with trial and error. Plants and animals can both be injected or given pills so you may attempt to gather more cells at a later date.
Points banked this chapter: 100 (Total points: 100 )
I had this chapter half finished yesterday; but then I forgot that the 'draft' feature on QQ's post maker didn't last forever, RIP the previous form of this chapter. It had a much longer description of the tower; but after it got nuked I just didn't have the mental will to write it out again, so I did the shorter description; and a shorter chapter overall because of that.
No update on this until at least January 11th I'm afraid. Will try and get a few of the 'mad science' omakes on here before then though. But they will be a lot more 'joking around' or a lot darker than this is.
EDIT: Also:
Merry Christmas
