team 7's path 9

The caravan of sleds arrived at the courtyard of the tallest tower in Outpost B. The courtyard was surrounded by curtain walls holding back water from the surrounding marshes, functioning as a levee. Imperial Troopers on loan to the municipality of Outpost B from the empire walked their beats on the wide tops of the wall.

The little war orangutans who answered to the Red Priest that had given the party a ride unloaded the sleds and helped Earl and the party members alight. Unlike the orphan war orangutans they had gotten to know in the packing compound, these war orangutans were dignified in their subservience. They stood upright and wore buttoned and baroquely embroidered vests.

Squints was unable to sit upright or form words and seemed only partially conscious, perhaps as a latent aftereffect of inhaling orphan-grade laughing gas earlier. At the party’s request, Earl took responsibility for watching over him and the assassin resembling Sansan, who was also still unconscious.

The red priest who had given the party a ride approached the doorman who stood guarding the front gate of the tallest tower, carrying behind him Romance Star. Romance Star attempted to speak but could not articulate consonants due to the injuries he sustained being lassoed around the neck by Squints on his projectile arc into the smithy in team 7's path 8.

Earl requested some snacks to hold him over if he was going to watch over Squints and the assassin for a long time while the party attended to their business in the tower. It had been a while since he ate. The last meal he’d had was breakfast. Omeb offered him a fifth of whiskey, and when Earl asked about its nutritional value Omeb assured him that it had great macros. “It has lots of protein,” Omeb said.

Before heading to the front door of the tower, Omeb took notice of a boy who looked like an adult man, or an adult man who looked like a boy—it was impossible to discern—lounging at the bottom of carved stone steps to the left of the tower’s entrance which climbed to a curious wooden door in the stone wall of the building. This boy or man scribbled some notes in a little blue book, which he then stored in his vest pocket, and lay back with one leg crossed over the other. He wore a vest and a top hat, and inhaled from a joint. He blew a smoke ring up into the face of the imperial trooper standing guard on the curtain wall just above him. The imperial trooper shifted in his stance, but did not otherwise react, suggesting some respect of deferential treatment toward the boy or man.

Omeb asked the boy or man what was behind the door, and the boy or man said, “You mean you don’t know?” then giggled and snorted.

Meanwhile Declan had a conversation with Earl. Earl identified himself as a great ‘watcher overer’ of other people. He used to have many little cousins who were comforted by his large presence. Earl stood several feet taller than Declan, who was already a supernaturally enlarged higher ape. Declan was about to ask what had become of Earl’s little cousins, finding the use of the past tense rather ominous in a description of family relationships. But Omeb interrupted, returning from what had become an argument with the man or boy who he had learned was named Hopper. Omeb said, “We are going in that door,” and pointed to the door at the top of the stone steps.

On the far side of the courtyard, Sansan had been investigating curious luminescent marbles in the fountain. These marbles were light and floated in the water, coming up with the fountain and then sinking back with the rest of the water for recirculation. They gave off a sulfur scent. When she heard Omeb and Declan getting ready to go somewhere, she returned to join them.

To make sure that Earl did not feel abandoned, Declan showed him a secret handshake. Earl expressed ecstatic gratefulness to learn the handshake of Northwestern culture, where Declan grew up. He said he had read many magazines featuring illustrations of women from the Northwest and was always willing to learn more about how things were done there.

Omeb, using his skills as a social savant, presented a fake ID to the imperial trooper on the curtain wall above Hopper and persuaded him that he was a member of the Imperial Secret Police and that he and his entourage should be permitted to enter the wooden door (which they were able to reach that point unintercepted because Omeb attempted to kiss Hopper and Hopper recoiled, creating enough distance for them to pass up the stairs).

The Imperial trooper, who identified himself as number 685, swiped his wooden card to open the door, revealing for the party a dark stairway into an underground bar.

The bar was dimly lit by torches mounted in the walls, with exhaust channels to carry the smoke to the surface.

To the party’s left side, at an oblong table, two imperial troopers, sloppy drunk, argued over which of the two of them Hopper liked best. One of them said to the other, “Hopper and I got a real thing going on, man. It’s real. It’s totally different from whatever y’all got going on. Weak bitch.” To the party’s right, in a cage, was a mimic in its treasure-chest form, fighting the iron bars with its long tongue. Standing behind the bar was Tom of the Bureau, whom the party met in team 7's path 6.

Sansan, suddenly curious, asked 685 how long the imperial troopers had been in the city. He said, “I find it curious what you know and don’t know as an associate of the secret police.”

Omeb put a hand in front of Sansan’s face and said, “I’m sorry. She has terrible manners. You are free to go now.” He booped 685 on the nose and led the party down the stairs to the bar.

“I have IPAs and I have whiskey,” Tom said.

“I’ll just take a water,” Sansan said.

“I have IPAs and I have whiskey,” Tom said again.

Omeb showed Tom the receipt entitling the party to payment for their help capturing the wanted Steven, but Tom said if they wanted to be paid they would go to the first floor of the tower. “If you hang around here you will not be paid. Instead, you may be what is paid for.”

“What’s with the mimic?” Declan said.

“Later tonight, many people will bid for it.”

“What do you have that’s fresh?” Omeb asked.

Now Tom leaned in. “It’s all fresh. It all comes on carts underground right from the stadium.”

“Okay, I don’t like this room anymore,” Omeb said, and made his way to the stairs.

Declan and Sansan hurried to follow him. Declan whispered, “Did we pay for our drinks?”

“I didn’t drink mine,” Omeb said.

After returning to the courtyard outside, Omeb kicked Hopper in the shin in a pure exercise of free will. Hopper, hopping, shouted in pain, “Why can’t you just be chill?”

Sansan separated from the conflict to speak with the assassin who was waking up in the ropes Omeb had persuaded Earl to tie them up in.

The assassin explained that in the clan’s caves between here and Chenowth, all they had left was a type of translator mycelium that they could never get to fruit. The mother took with her the last strain of mycelium the Old Man was able to fruit. They asked Sansan if the mother had any left. Sansan offered that the house in which she had grown up with the mother was on the border of Paleon and Ilnam. This was apparently enough for the assassin to narrow down a search area and they were eager to go scavenge for leads in the likely abandoned house.

“Can you talk like normal, by the way?” Sansan asked of the assassin, who looked just like her yet spoke like a large, elderly, evil man.

“I don’t know if you would want to hear that,” they said. “I have the cave accent. I nOrMaLlYY sOOUnd liKKe thIIIs.”

“I see. That’s rough,” Sansan said.

“Please don’t tell anyone about my regular voice.”

“Okay.”

Before going into the tower Sansan went back to inspect the fountain in which she had earlier dipped a stick in order to see if the glowing white sulfury marbles in the water would affect it. But the stick looked just like a wet stick.

Hopper, following Omeb and Declan over to the fountain, was tripped by Omeb jutting a foot into his stride. Sansan, ever friendly, caught him in her arms. Looking into her face from his trusting position, he said “Hey girl, what are you up to? In general where are you at? Have you got a number and a street?”

“Are you asking for my house?”

“Yeah, girl.”

“Why?”

“So I can come to it?”

“Why?”

Declan shook his head. “While Sansan ’why’s to the bottom of that, I’m going to speak with the doorman.”

Omeb kicked Hopper again and stole his blue book. The book contained a list of names and organs, likely organs the names’ owners had purchased in the underground bar. Tom of the Bureau’s name showed up once next to ‘left ankle’ and Obadiah’s showed up many times, next to ‘heart’, ‘liver’, ‘left lung’, ‘right lung’, ‘left kidney’, ‘right kidney’, ‘jns’ [sic], ‘left leg’, ‘right pec’, ‘neck?’, and ‘ear’ (no side specified).

The stern doorman allowed them in when Declan showed the receipt of the party’s entitlement to compensation for helping the bureau arrest a wanted head. Inside, the ceiling stretched so far overhead that the four corners where the walls met seemed to bend and converge on a distant point. In the center of the wide-open tile floor sat some municipal workers at three desks bunched together. These municipal workers, thick-calved, wrinkled, and dressed in worn business casual, looked like the type to stay in their hometown and be content with the friendships they made in elementary. None were addled by ambition.

The woman in the center called out to them and said, “Papers, please.”

Omeb shared with her that in addition to compensation, they were also there to seek an audience with Xena, but the municipal worker said, “That latter part, I will not be assisting.”

“Why not?”

“There is only one acceptable reason we have been given to allow an audience with Xena, and visitors are not that reason.”

Declan interjected, “We have a man who can kill her.”

At this the worker’s demeanor flipped. She smiled and spoke warmly. “Of course! I will let her know right away. The elevator boy can take you up.”

With respect to the issue of compensation, the bureau was not willing to offer precious metals or any other currency. Instead they were willing to offer a free-roll deathmatch athlete. The free-roll deathmatch athlete would enter the deathmatch tournament on their behalf and should the athlete win, they would be entitled to the reward: the opportunity to lease an apartment in Outpost A with the security deposit waived. Should the athlete die, well, the athlete would die.

Declan said, “Why don’t we give that some thought… We’ll come back on our way out.”

On their way to the elevator across the vast floor of the lobby, they noticed a red priest standing by an indoor well, dropping into the water, one by one, luminescent marbles just like those Sansan had found in the fountain. The party stopped to ask what he was doing. As they came close, the sulfur smell hit them with much stronger potency than it had outdoors.

He introduced himself as Priest Mandrake. “These are ward orbs,” he said. “Sometimes it can be challenging to resist the temptation to sin. It helps some people to know that a priest is watching and listening. By the water system, the orbs reach those who need the accountability.”

“How do you get the orbs back?” Declan said.

“Oh, they dissolve on their own after a few thousand years or so.”

“Can I borrow one?” Sansan said.

Priest Mandrake’s eyes lit up with a suspicious enthusiasm. He nodded and handed her two. “People usually don’t want to carry these around. I must say I’m impressed by your piety, young lady. Remember, they’re not much use in a pocket or a bag. I suggest leaving them out on a dresser in the bedroom.”

Declan whispered in Sansan’s ear that she ought to dispose of the marbles very soon.

“And you, handsome man,” Priest Mandrake said to Omeb. “Please take one as well.”

“You know, I was going to do something very bad to you,” Omeb said. “But now I’m not going to.”

The elevator boy had lats so big that he could not rest his arms at his sides. The elevator was operated by a long pulley system. There were slots in the tile floor for the elevator boy to slide his feet so that when he pulled passengers who were heavier than him up the shaft, he was able to anchor himself.

When Declan approached he was in awe of Declan’s extreme hypertrophy. He asked Declan, “How was it that you built such a physique?”

Declan said, “I do 100 pushups, 100 situps, and a 10-mile run every day.”

“Damn bro. God damn bro. I got to get on this routine, man. So what floor y’all tryna hit?”

“The penthouse,” Declan said.

This seemed to take the boy’s breath away. He looked over Declan head to toe, estimating his weight. “Okay…Okay…This is fine,” he said, comforting himself.

Once the full party was in the elevator and the elevator boy made his first tug, the party rose 1 inch. The elevator boy seemed embarrassed by his lack of strength in the presence of Declan. He pulled a blue pill out of his pocket and said, “Hold on guys, just hold on. I got you. I got you.”

Seconds after taking the pill, he slipped back into the slots in the tile floor and yanked hard. The party shot all the way up to the top.