Mask of Humanity

The other Cultivator, in the midst of activating a Symbiote, was stopped by an outraised arm, held up by the leader of the other group. She shot a warning look at the man, and he subsided with a grumble, shooting another irritated look at Nicolai. The pulsing through the Aura faded, telling Nicolai that the man had deactivated his Symbiote. Nicolai did his best to wipe the smirk from his face, realising as he did so that it wasn’t entirely faked.

Petty as it was, he’d found winning the Soul Sense test of strength to be surprisingly satisfying. The fact made him want to sigh. Surely such things were beneath him? It was just a primitive drive, like two male apes pounding on their chests and screaming at each other. His eyes rested for a moment on the man’s hand. The guy had a Symbiote and Nicolai was very curious as to what it was. It would be wise to maintain wariness until he could find out. He refocused on the woman, seeing she was about to speak.

‘Let’s see it, then,’ said the leader, looking to the bags.

Beth tugged one open, revealing shotguns, submachine-guns, and pistols. Nicolai kicked the already-unzipped flap on another open, showing boxes of ammo.

He’d spent every point he could accrue on these things, and badly needed to make it back. Luckily, he suspected he would make an absolute killing today. Perhaps in more ways than one.

He pulled a submachine-gun from one of the bags. ‘Fifteen-hundred points,’ he said.

Her eyes bulged. ‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘No it’s not.’ He replied immediately. ‘I’m giving you a good deal—and let me tell you why. The Chosen are a problem, are they not?’

She blinked at him, confused by the sudden change of topic. ‘They are,’ she said eventually.

‘And right now, with their sole access to the Trade Link, there’s not a lot anyone can do about them.’ Nicolai kicked at one of the bags. ‘But with these, that will change. I intend to arm everyone, and I’m giving good prices to do so. These are heavily discounted from what I’d otherwise charge, because I see this not just as an investment, not even as a trade. I see this as us banding together against the Chosen.’

She frowned, uncertain, but not as uncertain as he’d hoped. Then she raised an eyebrow.

‘I know how much these things cost,’ she said. ‘We’ve captured Chosen, and they’ve told us.’ She nodded to the guns. ‘A submachine-gun is three-hundred points. You’re charging us five times the normal price.’

Nicolai’s eyes narrowed. So, she knew the true price. That complicated things a little, but also made them more interesting. Either way, he wasn’t worried. She needed his guns, simple as that.

‘I’ll buy one for three-fifty,’ she said.

Nicolai couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic hope he saw in her attempt, the hope that he might sudden forget that he held all the cards, that he might just randomly cave and give her the guns for cheap. ‘Fifteen hundred,’ he said, and smiled.

‘I thought you were doing this to arm us all against the Chosen?’ she snapped. ‘I don’t see any truth to that. If you truly cared, you’d give them to us for no more than than twice the base price.’

‘Of course I care,’ he said, putting a hand to his chest as though hurt. ‘But every business has overheads. As I said, were it not for the matter of the Chosen, I would be charging significantly more. This is the best I can do. I hope you understand.’

‘Five hundred,’ she ground out through her teeth.

‘Fifteen hundred,’ Nicolai corrected her.

Her eyes narrowed, and she made a little gesture.

The Cultivator stepped forward. ‘We’re not paying five times the price,’ snarled the man, his Soul Sense pressing forwards again.

Nicolai’s Soul Sense was joined by Beth’s, and they rebuffed the man easily. He spread his hands while the Cultivator glowered at him, his Soul Sense making angry little lunges.

‘Where else are you going to get them? How do you think I got them? I’ll let you guys into a secret; the reason I have to charge such a high price. It’s because these things don’t just grow on trees, they’ve gone on quite a difficult journey to get here, before you.’ He tapped the side of his nose, conspiratorial, leaning forward as though inviting them in. ‘I’ve got a man on the inside, in the Chosen,’ he whispered, and they leaned in to listen. ‘He buys them for me, and he needs points-tags to do it. Then, he has to sneak them out. People must be bribed, and that’s more tags. The Chosen keep a careful eye, and we often have to dump the weapons and run. Not to mention the times we’ve been caught out by the dead. Not an easy journey.’ He shrugged, leaning back. ‘These are goods smuggled at significant effort. The price reflects that.’

As he’d spoke, he’d watched them carefully. Nicolai knew how this worked. He hadn’t been overly involved in commerce during his life, but five hundred years and a thirst for knowledge had led him to learn a great deal about many subjects.

When it came to trading, everyone had a bottom line. A maximum price they would be willing to pay. You simply had to find that line, and pitch a price just below it. Naturally, they would attempt to hide that bottom line. Everyone wants the best deal they can get. But Nicolai knew how to read the signs. He recalled time spent reading books on making deals, psychology studies funded by big businesses hunting for any competitive edge, time spent sat in attendance of speeches about analysis, manipulation, observation, leverage…

Wait. Nicolai frowned, a sudden worm of anxiety crawling through him. Ever since his time in the painted-world his memories had felt strange, and as his mind turned back to those books and speeches and he re-examined them he felt the falseness within, triggering an unease he couldn’t shake, bubbling in his guts. Part of him felt he was imagining this falseness, that it was simply the result of his uncertainty, and yet he couldn’t ignore it. A tiny splinter of unease was dug into his heart, twisting and scratching with every breath he took. Did I attend those speeches, did I read those books? Or did I simply download the data directly into my hard-drives?

Am I Nicolai, or am I Zero-Twelve?

‘—too much!’ the woman in front of him was snarling, and the anger in her voice pulled Nicolai from his daze. His mind refocused on the moment. It didn’t matter where the lessons had come from, not right now. All that mattered was that he was able to use them.

She was acting upset, and she was, but she wasn’t leaving. He had chosen the price based on their number; more people, more points-tags, and more need for the protection guns offer. Based on her reaction, he figured he was past her bottom-line. But he didn’t think he was too far past it.

He wanted to pose a price that would lead to them spending as much as possible, while he gained the best profit possible. If his price was too high, they might opt to hold onto the majority of their points-tags, and only buy a couple of guns. If it was too low, he’d make less profit than planned.

But if the price was just right, they would give almost all of their points-tags to him, each gun selling for a significant profit. At the same time, Nicolai was thinking ahead—repeat-business. Once he’d sold them guns and they’d used up their bullets, become accustomed to the protection and power the guns gave them, they would want more bullets, badly. And Nicolai was the only seller in town. Each gun he sold them would make them more reliant on him.

Currently, his price was too high. He saw the desperation in them. They wanted the guns but he knew they wouldn’t be willing to buy many. Maybe just ammo. They would wait in hope of a better price or some opportunity down the line, despite how badly they needed the guns. He needed to lower the price until it was at the very highest they would be willing to tolerate, to encourage them to spend everything they had.

The three of them were exchanging glances. He saw gritted teeth and anger in their eyes. The tall man was looking consideringly at the rest of Nicolai’s group, spread on the balconies behind him. The Cultivator was clenching his fists and glaring at Nicolai. The leader’s eyes flicked around, and he saw the wheels turning in her mind. Having realised they would barely be able to buy any of what they needed, they were considering other means. He detected Local communications amongst them. Doubtless it was going something like: there’s six of them, all armed. But if we take ‘em by surprise, maybe we can manage something…

A minor display of force should show them how foolish trying something like that would be. ‘Look scary,’ he messaged the others, and at the same moment he activated his Blue Hornet.

Lightning crackled over his body, and the back of Beth’s arms ignited with crawling fires, both of them lifting their guns slightly. Behind him he sensed the others raising their guns. Beth’s Soul Sense surged out of her to join him, both of them pressing the other Cultivator back.

‘Is there a problem here?’ asked Nicolai. The smile was gone from his face. Behind him he knew the others had raised their guns.

The three of them took a step back. The tall man licked his lips, eyes darting. The Cultivator grit his teeth, forming his Soul Sense into a protective sphere, while Nicolai and Beth’s Soul Sense tendrils slithered around him, hungry wolves circling, ready to lunge. The man’s sphere was not in one of the guard’s Kleos had taught them. It was just a vague spherical defence, the typical natural type used by someone who did not understand how Soul Sense combat worked. It would be easy to overwhelm.

‘No,’ blurted the leader, on the back foot. ‘No problem.’

Nicolai’s smile returned and he gave a casual wave behind him to the others, all of them relaxing, the electricity fading from his body and the fire from Beth’s arms. He considered all he knew, and settled on a price he judged should see him leaving with the largest possible amount of the other groups points-tags, a price that was exactly on their bottom line.

‘I’ll do you guys a favour. Here: I can do eleven-hundred and fifty for a submachine-gun, fifteen-hundred for a shotgun, two-fifty for a submachine-gun magazine. That sounds better, doesn’t it, eh? Also, if you have any Rejuvenating Orbs, I’ll count them as worth five-hundred points tags, each.’ Prior to receiving three from his quest reward, Nicolai would have been willing to give them a much better price for Rejuvenating Orbs, as much as one or two thousand. But now he had three, he was less concerned and could go for a better price, just on the off-chance they’d be willing to trade some.

The three exchanged glances, tension fading as they turned thoughtful, and he saw the shift in their demeanour. This price was still far higher than they’d have liked, but it was a price they were willing to pay, if only barely.

After that matters progressed faster. The Communists spent some time debating amongst themselves, working out what they wanted, then the leader came forward.

Nicolai managed to offload four submachine guns, two shotguns, a few pistols, plenty of clothes, two medi-kits, and a significant amount of ammo. The ammo ended up costing the other group more than the guns did, as he sold it at similarly inflated prices and they wanted as much as they could get. They also had a Rejuvenation Orb they were willing to trade.

He had the other group back off while he and Beth dragged the bags back into cover, where they redistributed everything until one of the bags contained all of the other groups purchases. Meanwhile he saw the leader and her two henchmen counting out points-tags from a few ragged sacks they’d collected from the people they left in the back. In the end he saw them shove almost all the points-tags into two of the sacks, keeping a bare few in the last.

They came forward, as did Nicolai and Beth with the bag. After Nicolai had counted the points tags and the other group had inspected the bag and Examined some of the guns, they made the swap and everyone backed away with what they’d gained.

‘Good doing business with you,’ said Nicolai, handing one of the two bulging sacks of points-tags the other group had handed over to Beth. He reckoned it was almost all the tags they’d accumulated so far, which pleased him greatly.

The Cultivator snorted, angry, but the leader gave Nicolai a careful look. ‘Likewise,’ she said, though he could tell she was feeling quite conflicted. Glad to have guns and ammo, dismayed by the price. Even so, she must be aware that she needed to maintain relations. They were going to use that ammo up, eventually, and then they’d need more.

‘Do you know about the Challenges?’ asked Nicolai suddenly.

The three frowned at him. ‘Doing stuff that gives you a reward, yeah,’ said the tall man.

‘Have your people completed the one about using an Imbued?’

They all tensed up. He gathered they were wary that he might be fishing for information, such as confirming that they’d found Imbued items.

He shrugged. ‘Only, it’s a good way to get free points-tags if you have at least one Imbued. Just have everyone in your group connect to it via their Seed, tick that challenge off. Same with having everyone use their Seed’s Soul Sense.’ He nodded to the Cultivator, ‘I’m sure he can show you all how, if you’ve not done it yet.’

‘I’ll take that under advisement,’ the leader murmured, somewhat sarcastically, but he could see he’d caught at her interest. Prior to finding a Trade Link—or in her case, a Nicolai—there wasn’t too much reason to have everyone complete Challenges, and based on the amount of points they’d had available he suspected most of them had only completed the typical guaranteed Challenge: survive the Trial.

Making sure these people were completing all the Challenges available to them was, in Nicolai’s view, just Good Business. He told them how to get, effectively, free points. They would later on give those points to him. There were a lot of these people, and if each of them completed two minor Challenges, that would add up to a lot of points. He needed those points, because he had his eye on a certain something. The Market Upgrade Permit.

The woman and her companions retreated with the bag. Nicolai studied those three and the rest of them on the outskirts of the room, checking for signs of an impending attack, his Soul Sense hunting thoughtlessly around him for the same even though none of the other group were within its range. He saw no signs of aggression from the other group, which didn’t surprise him. It would be foolish for them to attack now. They should wait until they’d armed themselves with the weapons they’d bought, but that would take some time as they’d have to take all the bullets from the boxes and load them.

However, he did sense a sudden pulse of furious, murderous desire. It came from above.

Through one of the drones, Nicolai saw Karl staring down at him, holding tight to his rifle. Nicolai sent a jolt of Oma into his shield, rapidly charging it, and prepared to move. His Soul Sense rose and slithered around Karl, feeling at the man’s emotions, guessing at his thoughts.

Rage and hatred pulsed from Karl.

He’s clueless, right now… I could just lift and shoot, one move, kill the bastard… Nicolai could practically hear the man’s thoughts, they were so clear, the dark emotions within him giving them a push that broadcasted them to Nicolai’s well-focused spiritual ears.

Nicolai stood there, shielding glove buzzing with readiness, his limbs tingling with the same. But none of that showed in his manner. He continued to stare after the other group as they departed, wearing a thoughtful face as if considering them. But within he was visualising how he’d raise his shield, deflect the shot—the shield should be good to deflect at least one rifle shot, so long as he got the angle for a deflect rather than a straight hit—and at the same moment draw a pistol. The moment after the shot, he would shoot Karl in the head. He could hardly wait to be rid of the man.

‘You coming?’ Nicolai heard Elena say to Karl. She was waiting at the balconies stairs, her eyes fixed on the other group retreating out the far side of the room.

For a moment, Karl hung there, boiling with emotion. Then he snarled, and turned away.

Nicolai watched Karl go through his Soul Sense. Karl was reaching peak desperation. He wanted to kill Nicolai, and he’d had an opportunity here: or the appearance of one. But he hadn’t acted. The self-survival instinct, perhaps. He was aware, on some level, that Nicolai wasn’t the easy mark he appeared.

So, what now? Now Karl would start thinking on other options, because he’d exhausted all the others. From what Nicolai sensed, Karl had yet to realise the only option left to him. But the deadline was close.

He finally pulled his actual eyes away from the other group, before turning and follow after the others, hefting one of the bags while Beth took the other.

‘What now?’ asked John when they’d rejoined.

‘More of the same,’ said Nicolai absently, his Soul Sense lingering around Karl.

This had gone on long enough. He needed to kill the man, and soon.