NOVEL NEXT 2.34 The Conviction of Choice
"Fuck me, a whole landship?" Skidmark gaped. He idly picked at the seam where his metal faceplate met flesh while he thought, and Tapper tried to quiet his broiling impatience. The Ratfink's head mechanic did not know about their time constraints, but Tapper still expected him to have a stronger reaction to learning of the Privateer's impending arrival. "Kinda want to see how that plays out, but we'll pack up and scatter before it passes us. Thanks for the warning, bot."
"Wait! We were actually hoping to employ you in fighting off the Privateer, in order to defend both Cope Station and your own home," Tapper quickly said, and only then did Skidmark grow concerned.
"Fight the Privateer? We had a good thing going with the PSIkers, but they ain't Ratfinks so it's not our problem."
"But Salazar is," Tapper countered, and behind him Phanya crossed her arms. This was it; Tapper had quietly asked his friends for a moment alone with Skidmark, and Ricky was currently keeping Salazar busy by dragging him around the garage with questions. Phanya promised she wouldn't interfere unless Tapper really stuck his foot in his mouth, but she wasn't about to completely drop the reins and leave Tapper unsupervised. He continued, "The train station desperately wants our help in repelling the Privateer, and that includes your Green Ghost. If you also help, then our odds of success rises exponentially!"
"Ghost is actually helping them? Huh, guess he's not such a hotrod after the past few years…" Skidmark quietly mused, staring off for a moment before he woke up and shook his head. "That's his choice, and Ghost technically isn't a Ratfink anymore, but these are my people and I ain't about to risk their lives just because. Not unless the cultists have been holding out some serious coin on us."
"Negotiations for compensation are, uhm, still ongoing," Tapper hesitantly said, and Phanya quietly grumbled her disapproval. If only Tapper knew more about Ratfink culture then he might have more luck convincing Skidmark, and a sudden spark of inspiration hit Tapper between the eyebrows. "However, should you help us in falling the Privateer then I can promise the Ratfinks will have salvage rights before us to anything the landship holds. Think of the loot! Including a full dock for mobile vehicle repairs. And precise laser cutters!"
Skidmark pretended to clear his throat so he could covertly wipe away some drool. "That's great, but you can't fill the tank on promises. Got anything for a down payment, bettie?" he asked to Phanya, who just quirked an eyebrow at the name. "Sorry, Ratfink term. Nothing bad behind it."
"Well, we don't have anything upfront besides our word. But we are fully on board for this," Phanya said, glaring at the back of Tapper's head.
Skidmark squinted at them as indecision warred behind his one good eye. "Tell ya what. Since you're badass enough to get bounties, and since you're friends of Ghost, I'll give your crew a shot." Tapper started to whoop, but Skidmark quickly silenced him. "A shot, I said. Do something for us to prove that you're actually willing to put your skin in the game, and not just hide behind us like hired muscle. Then I'll hear you out."
"So long as it isn't a suicide mission then that sounds fair," Phanya nodded. "Or take too long, we only have about a week before it gets here."
"Primo. I want you all to go and fetch medgel for Nurse Ratchet from an abandoned hospital a couple hours out in the dunes. We've been there before and took what we could, you'll have to break through whatever security remains to get deeper in. Or fight through any raiders already squatting there, so either way it should be a good challenge. And do it proper like a Ratfink, don't just buy the medgel. That's weasel shit." Phanya and Skidmark stared each other down for a second before they clasped forearms, and the adventurers received a notification.
[New Quest: An Ounce of Precaution
Loot a tank of medgel for the Ratfinks]
Then, Tapper whooped. "Splendid! Thank you Mister Skidmark, we shan't let you down! Now if you'll excuse me, I will go fetch our compatriots. Adventure awaits!" Tapper scurried off, and in his excitement his walking program carried him in a sort of sideways skip.
"That's a weird bot y'all got," Skidmark mused as they watched Tapper depart.
"You have no idea," Phanya sighed.
"No. No, no, I'm not doing it, and fuck you for good measure."
"Please Mister Salazar, it will just be a short adventure and — "
"No! No more adventures! Especially to help out those freaking cultists!" Salazar spat, and thrust both hands to the windshield as if he could grasp the horizon. "Neudopolis is right there! We could make it by nightfall and be DONE!"
"If not for the church, then for the Ratfinks," Tapper countered, and did not flinch when Salazar glared at him. "Mister Skidmark personally asked us to complete this quest, because without medical supplies the Ratfinks cannot assist with repelling the Privateer."
Salazar fumed for a long second as his energy dipped. Tapper expected more blazing anger from the mercenary, but now embers of quiet hurt burned under his words. "Why didn't he even ask me?"
Tapper calmed down his own tone to match and said, "I understand your frustration that you were not included, but the only reason why Mister Skidmark gave us this quest at all is because he trusts you. We cannot do this without you."
Salazar didn't say anything back at first. He just stared out in the general direction of Neudopolis before he suddenly grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and started thrashing his body. He looked like he wanted to tear the steering wheel from its mount and Tapper moved to comfort him, but Phanya clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Sal's fine, he's working out his frustration. You and I will talk about this later, but for now just give him a minute." Salazar choked out wordless noises of anger in time with his thrashing and Phanya grimaced. "Er, maybe give him two minutes."
A minute or two later Salazar burned out his energy and sat at the driver's seat, heaving breath with his neck frill on full display. "Fine. Let's go on an 'adventure,'" he grumbled as he put the car in gear, and winced away when Tapper cheered.
"That's the spirit! Onward and upward, we have not the time to dilly nor dally!" Tapper spun around in a full circle, but stopped short when he saw Phanya's flat look.
"Forgetting something?" she asked, and hooked a thumb at the rear of the jitney. Tapper looked at her quizzically, and Phanya huffed in annoyance. "Taps, you don't want to take your random stowaway into potentially dangerous territory. Do something about Makenna!"
On the drive back to the Ratfinks they took the long way around Cope Station to avoid the cultists, giving Phanya enough time to look over the contract for Tapper's gig with Makenna. Phanya tried to explain what to look for in the base wording that protects Makenna from the slavery conditions that she apparently expected, and after a moment Phanya felt herself starting to talk like Ms. Uxral. She even received a hit of Deputy experience when she taught Makenna that because the contract didn't say anything about food or lodging expenses then Tapper, as the employer, is responsible for all those expenses. Makenna still looked scared to touch anything, until Tapper and his relentless need to please offered to amend the contract and designate the panic bunker as Makenna's designated personal space. She instantly brightened, and once the contract updated Makenna promptly locked herself into "her room."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Tapper knocked on the armored door. "Hello, Miss Makenna?" he politely asked, increasing the decibels on each repeat until Makenna answered.
"My apologies, am I needed for work?" she asked, keeping her face and tone neutral. She still wore her headphones over her hood but now added an old pair of tech glasses, a cheaper version of Salazar's goggles with holographic displays dancing inside its lenses. The round frames would normally look large and fashionable on a baseline human, but they barely covered Makenna's sclera and she looked up at Tapper over them.
"Not at all! But we are on a quest that may, possibly, involve a foray into dangerous territories. Not to put the hearse before the horse, but do you have a friend at the church you can stay with for a day or two?"
"No thank you, I am fine."
"Ah, you may have misunderstood my idiom — "
"Are you ordering me to leave the car?"
"Well, no, but… you might be in danger…?" Tapper stammered, confidence draining in his voice.
"I live in a Battle Pass zone," Makenna shrugged, completely nonplussed. "I'll be fine."
Salazar suddenly snorted from the front seat. "You live there? Guys, her whole neighborhood is televised open warfare! She's probably tougher than you psychos!"
"You live there by choice? Why?" Tapper asked, completely befuddled.
A small, cold grin tugged at Makenna's face. "Hard to beat the rent. Only thing that does is someone giving me a whole room to myself for free. So thanks, but I'm good." She shut the door, and Tapper stood frozen in place as he tried to comprehend the mysterious passenger.
Ricky unwrapped an ed-pro bar to snack on, his munching the only sound in the long car for a long moment. "Y'know, she really changed since the contract talk. Guess that means you two did a good job if she doesn't feel the need to fake being nice."
"Shut up, Ry."
"Yes, but I am attempting to respect Miss Makenna's choice. I must, if I am to believe in my own capacity to choose. Even if this particular choice is foolhardy," Tapper grumbled.
Phanya suddenly stood ram-rod straight and she grabbed Ricky's wrist before he could take another bite. "Speaking of fools, why the hell did you steal that thing from the pastor!?" she growled at him.
Salazar spared a look back at the scene and laughed. "He snatched something? You're more punk than I thought, kid."
"Whoa hey, hold on a sec!" Ricky whimpered, tugging on Phanya's hand with all his might until she let go. "Okay, first off, in my defense: I only did it because Salazar threw that smoke bomb. It's not like we were ever going to return after that, and they had shelves of relics, and we need every advantage we can find out here. It made sense at the time!"
"Except that we shall indeed return to the church for their defense," Tapper helpfully corrected.
"Yes, thank you Tapper," Ricky ground out. "I know that now. And I promise I'll return it to them! Just, after we deal with the Privateer." Phanya opened her mouth, but Ricky cut her off. "No, give me that much! It makes no difference to them if they get it now or in a week, but I might actually learn something!" Phanya didn't say anything, and Ricky knew her well enough to relax a little when she didn't have a comeback.
"What a relief it is to hear that my friend did not commit larceny!" Tapper cheered. "Now, what is it that you impulsively borrowed?"
Ricky pulled out the small cage and explained everything he heard from the pastor. "...Still not sure I buy it that relics are alive, but I'll believe anything if it actually works." He pulled the hairclip out, and made sure he didn't hold it like a tiny rabid animal.
"So how does it work?" Tapper asked.
"I have no idea. When in doubt, treat it like normal," Ricky said, and with only a little hesitancy he clipped the plastic teeth into his hair. Nothing happened, but as Ricky focused he felt the tiniest tickle in the base of his skull. He tried again, putting in the effort to actually style his messy mop of hair, but it hung in that awkward stage after Ricky should've gotten it cut and before he could call it long. The best he could do was a short ponytail, and that was all the hairclip needed.
"I feel something!" Ricky gasped, and squirmed as he tried to follow the sensations. "I'm getting tingles, mostly around my spine. Actually hold up, they're moving down… pooling at my feet?" He yelped when he suddenly dropped a few centimeters and his feet vanished into the jitney's floor. Tapper and Phanya leapt up to grab him, but Ricky threw out his hands. "Wait wait, I'm okay! This is what it does. It feels so weird, like gritty sand under my skin, but I think I can drop down further if I'm careful."
"Further? Um, Ricky?"
"Not now Tapper, I'm already ankle-deep!"
"I only worry that it may be foolhardy to fall through the floor of a moving vehicle!"
[Relic attunement attempt: Failure]
Ricky's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock as his legs started to shake and jerk. A rapid chopping sound filled the air, and Ricky realized it was his own bones protesting against the violent vibrating forces. "Okay, now this hurts!" His friends lunged to help, but the instant they touched Ricky the laws of physics took over with a vengeance. Ricky launched straight upwards, crunched headfirst against the low ceiling, and fell back down in a boneless lump.
Phanya shrieked, and Salazar jerked the steering wheel. "The hell's going on back there? Is it guards? Raiders? More bugs??"
"No no, we are fine!" Tapper shouted back. He crouched over Ricky, their faces centimeters apart so that Tapper could read him for signs of life. "Ricky is merely unconscious from his own experiments, there is no external attack!"
"So he's okay? Tapper, is Ricky okay?" Phanya asked.
Tapper noticed the edge of panic in her voice, and stood to give Phanya a reassuring pat. "Yes Phanya, Ricky is okay. Even if he is not good. I do not know the full extent of his injuries, but his breath is steady and a regeneration potion should put him right as filtered rain."
"Okay. Okay," Phanya panted, before she suddenly turned on Ricky. "That's what you get, you little twit!" she shouted at his unconscious form, and took a steadying breath. "Okay, I'm good now. See Tapper, that is an example of karma."
"Which part, Phanya? Is it karma that I have the means and materials to craft the potion he needs?" Tapper asked, as he set up the hot plate and pulled out a bag of ground bug husks. "It is fairly serendipitous that I still have some darkling crawler on hand."
"What? No, I'm talking about how Ricky made a bad choice with good intentions, and it bit him in the ass." Makenna started playing music loud enough to reverberate through the closed door, and Phanya dropped her voice so only Tapper could hear. "Kind of like misleading people."
Tapper paused his preparations for a split second, before he dumped a bottle of Kakisi's jelly into a pot and set it to boil. "I have misled no one. I only gave incomplete information and allowed the others to draw their own conclusions," he eventually responded, very quietly.
"Bullshit. Lies of omission are still lies and you know it," Phanya flatly said, and she tapped a finger against her temple. "Deputy skill says so."
"I… am sorry, Phanya. You are correct, but my customer profiles for both Salazar and Mister Skidmark said that neither one would help without the other's prior commitment. It was a calculated choice."
"I get it Taps, honestly. You asked us to let you get everyone on board, and I haven't stopped you yet because we want you to stand by your choices. But choices have consequences, and you really do not want to make this kind of choice into a habit. That's why Ms. Uxral always stressed doing the right thing over the calculated thing." Ricky groaned slightly, and Phanya scoffed before she hauled Ricky onto the cot in a, mostly, comfortable sleeping position. "And… yeah, sometimes karma is when your friends save your ass from the consequences. Sometimes."