The World Which Is

Preparing dinner gives me something else to think about; something safe. Pan on the stove, steaks in it. Steamer next to that with vegetables in it. They’re so fresh they could have been picked this morning, instead of whenever they were, and put into storage within Base’s inventory.

Unlike mine, and anyone else’s, food in Bases’ inventory doesn’t go bad. The way he explains it, time basically stops in there. And no, he can’t put people or anything alive. They tried it, back in the early days, when they had too many injured for the healers to deal with and a hope they could be kept alive that way, until one of them could get to them.

Since we live inside Base’s walls, our fridge connects directly to his inventory, every storage in our house does. He partitioned them so I don’t have to search through everything in there when I access my dresser, but it’s just a shift in what I’m accessing from there to look at everything else. If I don’t mind being overwhelmed with stuff.

Using the search function when dealing with Base’s inventory is a must.

I can also access all his functions, if I want. What that means if that I don’t have to cook food, if I don’t feel like it.

Back in the early days, all he could make was bland nutrition bars that would keep you alive, but make you want to end it each time you had to eat one, according to Grandpa Louis. Now, his cooking list is wide enough I could pull a different meal out of a cupboard every meal and It would be years until I had a repeat.

But I enjoy cooking. I mean, the skill’s at eleven, so I’m just okay at it. I didn’t even max it out, so shows how little I do it. Dad does most of the cooking, but he taught me the basics, and I don’t burn the food anymore. Most of the time.

Today’s looking like this is going to be one of my better results; helps that it’s basically just seared steaks and steamed vegetables. Simple dishes are harder to screw up.

The bottle of orange juice just about steams when I pull it out of the fridge, it’s so cold. Any colder and it’d be frozen.

That another thing Base has that’s different from personal inventory. Temperature control. It’s relatively recent, something he got maybe three levels ago. Before that, he used geothermals to keep stuff cool.

Meant ice was out of the question back then. Now it means cold drinks and hot showers without having to think about it.

The door opens and closes, and I set the plates.

Dad stops in the kitchen’s entrance and this is where I find out if I’ve made things worse. I got out of my room, but it was so he wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. One costs me points, the other earns me some. The question is, how hungry is he?

He pulls his chair and sits, breathing in the food.

Not getting screamed at this evening. Good.

We eat in silence for a while. Working up the courage to tell him is harder than I expected.

“Dad, about my class.”

“I’ll talk with Sylvia tomorrow. She knows all the farmers and she’ll be able to tell me who’s the best to take you on as an apprentice.”

“No, Dad, I—”

“Dennis.” He sighs tiredly. “Can you not be difficult about this? I’m having a hard enough time being civil after what you and Base pulled.”

I mumble a, “Sorry, Dad,” and go back to eating. Hopefully, tomorrow he’ll be in a more receptive.

* * * * *

Breakfast is on my own.

Being grounded comes with the ‘benefit’ of not having to get up early, and Base shut down my alarm. He doesn’t make a habit of listening in on conversations inside houses, so it’s not like he knew I wanted to try again with Dad.

Well, there’ll be lunch.

* * * * *

Lunch comes and goes without Dad showing up.

I’m tempted to call him. Base has a communication system within his walls. It actually reaches as far as his influence, but he doesn’t advertise that because he doesn’t want the mayor to think Base can solve all his problems.

Communication is a big problem for Court.

He won’t be able to establish contact with Toronto until he reaches the City level, and he’s a ways away from that. Right now, caravans like Chuck’s are how we get mail. Not that there’s a lot of that, as far as I know. The group that founded Court came from all over the place with Grandpa Louis and Base. He and my Dad lived on the other side of the continent when the system arrived, with Grandpa Louis’ husband.

I didn’t get to meet Grandpa Chris, but I heard stories of him and the farm Dad grew up on with his brother. Uncle Mark left Court a few years after I was born, but he dropped by a time or two. He and Dad don’t get along, but neither will tell me why.

After Lunch, I tidy up the house. It’s not large, since it’s just me and dad. My room, his, his workroom, the living room, the kitchen and his and my bathroom.

We could have as large of a house as we want without it taking anymore space outside as this one does, and I sort of remember it having more rooms, back before mom died.

With the tidying done, I sit at my desk and write a cleaner plan for my build.

My big problem is leveling. Without being able to do the class quests, which would…

System Query: Quest Line, Explorer; Ruin Discovery

The explorer is driven to find what the past contained, and is rewarded for discovering ruins

System Query: Quest line, Explorer; Finding Caches

Ruins contain the secrets to the past, and an explorer seeks them out, and is rewarded for it

System Query: Quest line, Explorer; Research

The past isn’t always contained within ruins. Sometimes, it is contained within tomes, and researching them will be rewarding for the explorer

System Query: Quest line, Explorer; Creature fights

The Explorer doesn’t only learn by peering over tomes and dusting off ruins, they also learn by pitting themselves against the creatures of the world

Four quest lines? That’s good.

Well, for an actual explorer.

Class quests grant ability points every half plus and minus quest completed…I think.

Query, how many quests do I need to complete for each line to get an ability point? Limit it to the first six points for each line.

System Query: Class Quests Ability Point Rewards, Explorer

Ruin Discovery: 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11

Finding Caches: 4, 8, 12, 16, 20, 24

Research: 4, 8, 12, 16, 20, 24

Creature Fights: 4, 8, 12, 16, 20, 24

Every other quest for the ruin, every fourth for the others. That’s an indication of the last three being simpler to complete.

Maybe there’s someway I can get the research one? I think some of the older folks have old books. If I can, that could speed up getting to the good combat abilities. Otherwise I’m going to have to rely on leveling, and that’s going to mean experience from protecting the town and from doing fetch quests for the people in it.

That’s… not going to be fun. And that’s not even taking into account how my dad’s going to do everything he can to keep me from being a guard.

There is a lot of competition for fetch quests since it’s the easier way to get experience at low level, and being related to the Commander isn’t going to help me. The fetch board is run by Court, not Base. The Mayor even made sure it was established on the fourth ring, well outside of Base’s influence, to ensure he couldn’t manipulate it.

The Mayor’s not the most trusting person.

Hopefully, Dad will have calmed down from me telling him about my class by the time he lifts my punishment.

Like he’s ever going to lift it when he finds out.

* * * * *

I am almost tempted to reach in and get something that looks edible out of the cupboard instead of offering this for dinner.

I mean, it’s not ruined, but I left it in the oven too long, and the cheese’s more burned than not.

Maybe lasagna’s too complicated for my skill level.

When dad sits and looks at it, he cracks a smile. “This smells good,” he says, then starts eating.

It tastes better than it looks at least.

“I talked with Silvia,” he says, while I’m still trying to start the conversation. “She said that Hubert, Miss Lancaster, and Mister Charles are the only ones who currently have space for another farmer. Summer’s not the best season to start working on a farm, you know.”

I’m imagining the tone of reproach. Dad’s not like that, even when he’s angry, which he doesn’t sound right now, so… “yeah, About that, Dad.”

“Don’t worry, Dennis. I sent a letter to them explaining your situation and my requirements. I’m sure they’ll reply within a day or two, then we can arrange for them to come here so I can meet them and decide the best fit.”

“That’s not—”

“Dennis, you got yourself into this situation,” he says sharply. “You can very well have the patience to let me ensure you have the best teacher and someone who can protect you.”

I stifle the sigh and look at my plate. “What if I’d rather be a guard?” Let’s ease into it.

“That’s out of the question. There’s nothing in your class that will help that. You’re a farmer, Dennis. You’re going to have to learn to accept that.”

“I’m not—”

“That is enough.”

“Fine,” I snap and stand.

“Where are you going?”

“To my room.”

* * * * *

I listen to the soft music, eyes closed. Mozart, Base told me, is who wrote this, way, way before the system, like before there was even electricity, or cars, or steam engines. This is a recording of an orchestra playing Mozart’s music century after his death. That’s how important his music was, Base told me.

I just like it. I like a lot of the music Base has.

One of the thing he and Grandpa Louis did in the early days of the system was collect as many of the recordings as they could. It’s not as much as they would have liked. A lot of it was kept digitally then, and when the computers stopped working, that all went away.

They stopped at every record store they came across on the trek back to Calgary, every library, and collected every disk they found. Base can play those, even record them. He says that he works a lot like the computers did when they existed, except they couldn’t just make stuff appear or play with the proportions of spaces. So he has a copy of every piece of music they found for me to listen to. And if someone outside his walls wants to listen to one of them, he will make them a disk and a player for it.

It only plays for a few hours. Even Base has limits when he makes something that’s taken outside his influence, like how much power he can put in something. He can power everything here, but they’d need transmission lines to distribute it to the rest of the town, and at his current level, he can’t generate the kind of power Court needs without bringing in a lot of material we don’t have.

The knock is soft. Not how Base knocks.

My dad opens the door and looks in. “You have a visitor.” He steps aside, and Josie walks in. “I’m leaving the door open,” he says, before walking away.