THIRTY-ONE: Manon

Joe spent the next ten minutes exclaiming over the man Alden had rescued and the cases of supplies he’d brought. He divided his time pretty equally between them, so it was hard to tell which he was happier to have returned to him.

Alden didn’t want the professor to think up any additional errands, so as soon as it was possible, he made his escape and left the Summonarium behind.

He walked across the dark campus, enjoying the strange night sounds of another world and relishing in the first real freedom he’d had all day. The only thing left on his task list was his sleep curfew. And that was one assignment he was looking forward to completing.

I don’t even know where I’m supposed to sleep, though.

At lunch, the other humans had mentioned dorms, but Alden had no idea where they were.

“System, can I get one of those carts? And a shower? And a bed?”

He wondered if it would just give him a map and tell him to walk there himself since he was no longer on duty. But he must have been authorized to use the carts in his free time, too, because a couple of minutes after he made his request one of them rolled to a stop beside him.

Alden collapsed into a seat gratefully.

He had a lot he needed to think about and almost no energy left to do it with. There was a ton of stuff to unpack from the trip to Moon Thegund. He was sure he could come up with a few dozen questions just about that last teleportation cycle.

If every day here is as long as this one has been, I’m going to be a wreck in no time.

And that reminded him. He finally had time to call his friends and let them know he was alive.

“System, I want to place a video call to Boe Lupescu in Chicago, Illinois.”

Video, audio, and texting from here all cost the same absurdly high price, so why not? The connection fee was five hundred Argold, plus three every minute. Alden couldn’t decide if it was fair or a total scam. On the one hand, he was instantaneously communicating across dimensions. On the other, holy crap…even if he only talked for a second, this call was going to cost more than a month’s rent on the house.

He accepted the price, marveling at the fact that he had enough money not to second guess the decision, and around a minute later, Boe answered.

Unlike the larger, circular image he’d gotten when he received a video call from Keiko Velra, the picture he had of Boe was a normal cellphone camera image.

Boe was sitting up in bed. Behind him, a large gap in the blinds showed the half-lit windows of a neighboring building.

“Shit. I woke you up,” said Alden. “Do you mind talking right now?”

Boe rolled his eyes. “Gee…no. I’m far too busy to accept a call from my friend who disappeared in his death lab coat hours ago and hasn’t been heard from since. Try again later.”

“Sorry. It’s been crazy, but I should have called before this.”

“It’s fine.” Boe climbed out of bed and walked over to flip the light switch by the door. “You look like you’re in one piece. I’m glad.”

“Thanks,” said Alden. “And yeah. I’m okay. I’m on a university campus, watching amateur wizards take exams. It’s not too dangerous. I’m going to be here for twelve days…well, eleven now.”

His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s a long assignment to get out of the blue. How do you want me to handle your aunt?”

“I’d like to keep her in the dark. Until I can talk to her in person. But you’ll have to do more work to make her think we’ve just been missing each other in passing.” He gave Boe an apologetic look. “Do you mind occasionally stopping by my place and making it look like I’m still there?”

He knew his friend would say yes, but he felt a little guilty for asking.

“I can do it. If some of your stuff is missing when you get back, consider it my service fee.”

Alden nodded. “And make sure Victor’s bowl is full.”

“Got it. Lie to your aunt. Feed your cat. Tell everyone at school you’re seriously ill?”

“Oh right, school…” It was amazing how a few days could make school feel like a foreign concept. “They might call Connie after a few unexplained absences.”

Boe had just grabbed Alden’s own cell phone from the top of his dresser. “Jeremy and I can figure something out. He’s absolutely losing his mind, by the way. Like, it’s bad enough that I’m texting him right now because there’s no chance he’s sleeping.”

“He looked way more freaked out when I left than I was,” said Alden, remembering the expression on Jeremy’s face. “And I was pretty freaked out.”

“Yeah, he drove me and Gorgon insane today.” Boe shook his head. “I guess it felt like a game to him until you actually got summoned? Or…on some level I think he assumed all Avowed were untouchable, and then he realized he could still knock your pitiful ass over with a single punch.”

“Tell him that was because I was surprised by the way an outside impact affected my skill drain, not because I couldn’t actually take it.”

“Sure it was.”

“It was. Sophie—that’s my new griveck coworker—seems to think my magic senses are screwed up.”

Boe shoved his glassed up on his nose. “There was a lot to unpack in that last sentence. I have questions.”

“I doubt I can answer them,” Alden admitted.

“Why are you calling an alien combat machine by a girl’s name?”

“Sophie suits her kinda well actually.”

“Oh wooow…okay. I thought your friendship with Gorgon was an isolated incident, but now I’m starting to worry there’s a pattern.”

“Don’t be xenophobic.”

“I’m not. But I do have a healthy respect for species that are literally known for their overactive prey drive. Have you ever seen video of a griveck hunting? The way they kill things is nightmare fuel, and killing things is their number one favorite pastime.”

“Sophie offered to let me burrow underground with her when I’m tired.”

Boe snorted. “I’m pretty sure the Artonans will give you a nice bed in a nice room, maybe even with some nice human beings. Why don’t you try that out first?”

“Headed there now,” said Alden, looking around. The cart seemed to be taking him to the outskirts of campus. Dark red lamps lit the pathway here, but there were fewer of them than there had been in more central areas. “The other humans on this assignment are…I don’t know. They’re fine, but I’m not their favorite person, I guess. Have you heard of boaters?”

“Like sailors?”

“No. Like an Anesidoran club of people who recommend each other for Triplanet jobs and try to keep the best positions in-group.”

While he explained the situation and the strange lunch conversation, Boe was typing on Alden’s cell phone with his free hand.

“You’re right,” he said. “That sounds odd. Rabbits are known for being rich, but I’ve never heard anyone suggest that they’re expected to pay for other humans’ personal expenses when they’re working together.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t tell if they were hinting that I should, or if it was just part of the Manon praise and worship.”

“Let me remind you that even if they’re making a fraction of the cash you are it’s most likely still more than your aunt’s entire annual income. An easy, twelve-day event that regularly hires a crew of low rankers? That’s sweet. They’re not hurting for money.”

“Do you think maybe Manon’s just showing off for her friends?”

Boe was still staring at Alden’s phone. “Maybe. She seems successful enough on the island.”

“What?”

“I looked her up just now. Since you don’t have Earth internet. She’s a decorator for the upper crust. Has her own website. Does events and interiors. She uses that C-rank Rabbit skill that lets you rearrange furnishings to perfectly suit the owner.”

“Tailor Environment?” It was one of the “must-choose” Rabbit skills, popular enough that Alden had heard about it before he did any of his recent research into the class.

“Yeah. I’ll see what else I can find. But don’t make waves with the off-brand union, I guess?”

Good advice. Waves were bad when you were barely treading water to begin with.

“I had things to tell you, too,” said Boe. “Most of them can wait. You should give me contact permission, though, so I can call you whenever. On your dime, obviously.”

“I was going to ask you about that. You’re cool with talking to me this way, right? You’re not worried about the System spying on you?”

“Huh? Why would I be?”

“A few days ago you were all paranoid about phone tapping,” Alden pointed out.

“Yeah, by our own government. The System is obviously spying on all of us. There’s no point in trying to avoid that. You should call me through it so that our fellow Earthlings can’t butt in.”

The second phone in his hand rang.

“Speaking of Earthlings butting in, here’s Jeremy. Please make your assignment sound like a fun vacation when you talk to him. I don’t think he’ll sleep for the next few days if you don’t.”

“Alden’s talking to you right now!?” Jeremy’s voice shouted from the phone. “Are you serious?! Why didn’t he call me first? Can I talk to him? Let me talk to him! How badly did he get blown up?”

“He can hear you. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Jeremy,” said Alden, trying to think of the most lighthearted thing he could say about his day. “I didn’t get blown up at all. I’m at the alien equivalent of an Ivy League school, riding a golf cart around. Did you know they have a vegetable here that tastes like steak?”

Human accommodations were on the top floor of a narrow, three-story building with no signage. Alden took an exterior elevator up, and the door opened directly into a locker room.

Surprised, he stepped out onto a mat and looked around. Most of the lockers were shut, with the user’s name displayed on a small screen at the top. Alden took his time examining the set-up.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was air conditioned, which immediately improved his mood. The second was that he was probably the last person to arrive. He counted fifteen occupied lockers, and there had only been fourteen humans total at the orientation meeting this morning, including himself.

Someone named Thwart Hog had two lockers, both of them decorated with travel-themed fridge magnets. Everyone else was using an ordinary sounding name.

Avowed could set a preferred public name with the System. Alden’s was just “Alden,” no last name. He hadn’t seen a reason to hide his identity since he intended to be aboveboard as a superhuman.

He was guessing, from the well-used look of Thwart Hog’s lockers and the obvious desire for anonymity, that the person wasn’t affiliated with the boater. They were probably here on a separate long-term assignment, and there was a good chance that they were an unregistered Avowed.