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A4: Chapter 10

  The number of people that want my attention and time these days is alarming. It’s so bad that after a week of having an assistant, she’s beginning to wonder how I kept up with everything. I didn’t: I was only shooting the closest alligator to the boat in the middle of the bayou.

  “Now you know why I was so willing to pay you more. Now I have time to get into my own projects. Which is getting me more messages. Especially after my auction stunt.” I scoff and thump my hand against my desk in the Civics Building.

  “Speaking of, I have the Exchange review for lesser versions of your crafting potion. TLDR, they were only ever a niche market because the versions that I found were expensive and the records of the sales said the return for a few hours of potency just wasn’t worth it.” Patience has a desk near the door to my office, but she has made a habit of sitting in my thinking chair or at my break table even just to work.

  “What were they going for? I’d like to sell mine at ten credits a pop.”

  “Thirty or more a vial. Is there a reason you can’t do eight? Ten just looks like a lazy estimate. Eight looks like you actually did the cost benefit and ROI numbers.”

  “I mean, I kinda did? Eight Marks a bushel of berries, makes 70ish liters of beer with two units of Astorian root sugar—two marks a piece. Four marks worth of malted barley for the enzymes is a credit total. About 10 credits for a bottle of A-rank ink, and the bottle makes roughly 90 liters, or 360 units of potion. So at 11 credits so far, lets call it 15 for lost-in-process ingredients. Twenty eight to twenty nine hundred credits a batch minus fifteen for materials, that’s definitely worth it. Huh.” I tap through some menu’s and schedule a delivery of the raw ingredients to my lab. I really should make the ink too, but I spend so much aether every day that extracting it just to force myself to make more seems like a waste.

  “If you’re still planning on stocking a crafting warehouse for locals and your settlement people, you consider filling one of those freight ships from Astoria.”

  “While I want to, I don’t think I want to start any big projects until I have that meeting with the gangs of LA. I have a suspicion that they’ll want me to build some shit.” I hope the gangs come to the table with a trade because I don’t just give shit away. They are absolutely going to try and strong arm me with numbers during negotiation. But I’ve got something they don’t know how to get: tier 2 access on the Exchange.

  I asked Zia and Penny about this--‘cause many people in my settlement complain about being limited—but apparently, Penny negotiated for crafters to be able to access the tier required to make their products, and the regulatory body didn’t put a fine point on those sanctions so as a recently minted tier two crafter I can access tier two anything. A oversight that is convenient for me as my tier two armor is a pretty piece of engineering and enchantment. I have a feeling that either Penny is lying to me, or there aren’t that many tier two plus crafters. I’m pretty sure that discovering that tier 3 recipe is being flagged as a fluke by the Matrix.

  My musing is interrupted by a knock at the door. I look over to Patience when she doesn’t get up. I scoff before yelling “Enter,” and return to scowling at Patience. Before I can comment, my security director, in what I suspect is a new uniform, walks in and marches in front of my desk and stops with a crisp salute. I stand and salute him back with much less crispiness. He grins as he drops his rigid posture.

  “Very funny, but very sharp uniform. Is this a new Camp security thing?”

  “It is! This is a prototype that my upper staff and I decided on. What do you think?”

  “Not sure I’m convinced on orange on black, but I do like the colored stitching around the edges and the rib and leg stripe. Looks like a motif based on my armor.” I walk around my desk to study the clothing, check the seam placements and the cut emphasis stitching.

  “You noticed. The crew liked the cut of the armor but didn’t think Astorian colors were appropriate. The orange was a whim, but I quite like it.”

  “Tova, let me see a paper doll of me in this cut and color and one with a grey and gold motif.” I see me in double, the grey one looks like I’m headed to a military academy, while the black and orange fits me into some sort of spooky cavalry officer. “Alright, stay with orange and black but change the shield cut front with buttons down both chest sides with only two buttons on the left, but both close to the collar with a hidden zipper for the rest of the top. Great, I like that. Now add a rank insignia button on the left side of the neck and the left shoulder.” Tova puts a star on my neck button and an orange embroidered star on my shoulder with ‘Nowhere’ written in the middle in black.

  “What do you think, Marcus? I would be proud to wear this.”

  He looks at it for a few moments, nodding as he studies it. “I think it needs a wider cuff and a hat, but I like the changes. Well, I don’t love that I need to finally make a rank structure, but I can handle it. Not the only reason I came here today though. Do you have time to talk?” he looks over to Patience and then back to me.

  I raise and eyebrow, “Sure. Patience, take a long lunch.” She looks between the two of us but decides not to say anything. As soon as she exits the office, Marcus walks over to my side table and sits.

  “Must be serious if you want my assistant out of this. What’s up?” I say, sliding into the seat across from him.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “We need more people, more money, just more. That aside, we need to re-visit combat scavenge rights, the way forward with the gangs in town, etcetera.”

  “looting and pillaging is against my practices. It’s dangerous to think about while in combat and since we recycle the dead anyway, the loot is totaled and given as bonuses. As for the gangs, I have a suspicion that they’ll be permanent fixtures soon. I would set increased watches for now, but re-examining a sustainable alert rotation would be advisable.”

  Marcus chuckles, “I don’t need you to set my watches Kimber, I meant more policy. ROE for them, what if they come back unarmed, do we allow them to gather in town, etcetera.”

  “Ahh, sorry. Not so used to thinking in more . . . strategic terms? Seems right. I don’t think I want more than a fire team or two in town at the same time. Six hour tourist visas? Medical exception I suppose. Unarmed only, of course, but much the rest of it has to do with how my meeting with them goes.”

  Marcus nods. “Any chance we can get a few more installations for the perimeter?”

  I bobble my head left and right in thought, “Maybe. I have ideas to expand to the Eastward freeway soon, and to the southern freeway eventually. I mean, if everyone wanted out of the barracks, the Square would be full, but people are liking the barracks for some reason.”

  Marcus chuckles at that. “Kimber, it’s what we know. The Camp’s recruitment was heavy with new members of Old Warram. We were in the barracks most of the time we spent there. If we get much bigger though, we’re going to have to talk transit systems.”

  I wave the topic off, “I have ideas, but as for now, my settlement is only eight blocks on the diagonal. That said, I have looked at your requisition for the collapsible bikes. I had my assistant research them and there’s a harder to steel version that doesn’t fold into a pocket space, just merely into a lump of metal. I am willing to buy four to see how the on-duty patrol does with them, and I’m still looking at transport shuttles.”

  “Alright, since my concerns have been addressed, I’d like one or two more gear depots in the watchtowers as issuing and returning gear to one spot is a hassle.”

  “Yeeaaahh, I’m going to refer you to Tova on that one. She likes city planning more than me and optimizing buildings is her thing. Funds are feast or famine, and right now they’re famine. After Founders’ week I should have more, but I also have several projects running. Plus, the settlement will get Empire and System funds then.”

  He enters some menus and I just sit and consider the man before me. Dutiful, concerned with a collective condition, but does he look after himself? Does he have a personal life?

  “Have you found time for yourself, Marcus?”

  He pinches his brow in confusion for a moment before relaxing. “I’m honestly relieved to be busy? If that makes sense. I bullshit with a few of the security team after hours, but I mostly just crash when I get home. I have my eyes on someone from Hospitality, but they’re also in comfort, which complicates things.”

  “Oh?” My spirits lift that he would include something personal. “I mean, I’m glad you have the time to think about that stuff. Don’t judge her too harshly for the comfort work. The best you can do is ask if she likes what she’s doing and if you can help manage the stresses of her day. After that, if she needs help, I think it’s up to her to indicate or initiate that request.”

  “Got experience with that do you?” he chuckles, not knowing. Why would he though. I don’t share much.

  “Actually, yeah.” I see that I have his attention and continue. “This isn’t something I tell everyone, Marcus, so after this we’re friends.” He snorts. It’s good to see the formerly stoic man laugh. “After a day of scrounging, fighting, and teaching assholes lessons; I needed someone to calm the demons and prove that someone wanted me around.”

  I huff and scrub my face before slumping in my chair. “Jaime was there for me, but her price was sharing her bed. It felt like affection in the beginning, but in the end it was a goods exchange and I was the one working for comfort. So when I give you advice about this, it’s the approach I would have respected. I was too independent to need help, but I did want it. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but before we went to Warram, I knew what I was doing. I lived for the grubs, I worked for Jaime. I just have a lot more grubs now, and my girlfriend is the most amazing person in the Empire.”

  The silence that follows lasts. I summon a drink for both of us and finish half of my juice before he takes a sip of coffee and speaks.

  “None of us knew, Kimber. I judged you harshly then because of your relationship with Jaime, and your general intolerance of older males, but I’ll definitely consider your advice if I decide to pursue the girl.” We sit in silence a while longer.

  “Are you still friends with Belle?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head, “We still talk. She was very important to getting through my mental blocks, but being with each other kind of ruined our ability to be friends or professionals after we stopped.”

  “I can see that. The way she ended things, and her job as a . . . therapist doesn’t make for great leadership material.”

  “Kimber. You’re going to have to deal with her again, so please listen to what I say.” He sighs then stares me in the eyes. “What she did hurt her more than you would know. I don’t think she realized how often she mentioned something about you, but now, she’s just as mad at you as she seemed at that first meeting. I don’t know if she’s jealous of your success or that your breakup doesn't seem to affect you anymore, but she’s angry Kimber.”

  “Honestly, Marcus? If she hadn’t come back as an entitled ass, I would have given her another chance. It’s been almost four years since I got away from Jaime’s abuse, and I’m wary of her practices, but I also know she’s damned smart and good at managing people. Bell though? Her resume sucks for a Lead Councilor. I’d love if she’d work with Doctor Kenneck at the Hospital, but I don’t know if she wants that job anymore.”

  “Derailing this share-fest, we need a hang-out spot so I can invite you to bitch over beers.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I refit the brewery up the road, I haven’t decided if I want it to be an event space or just a tap room.”

  “Uh, Brew Tavern, Kimber. Beer, darts, pool, and karaoke. I’ve heard great things.”

  Oh shit! He is such an old man! I laugh until my face is resting on the cool table. “As funny as that was, I’ll look into it. Maybe three to six months. If you want something sooner, there are several empty buildings and perhaps you and some enterprising people can start something?”

  “I’ll think about it, but I’m saving up for a bike right now. Know any good deals on sweet bikes like yours?” I chuckle at that and nod.

  We chat through lunch about our Warram years and it’s nice. Cathartic to talk through stories with someone not my mentor or girlfriend; and comforting to feel the warmth of a friend confiding in me.

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