Chapter 8-212: On the Road Again... er, the Waterways

“Well, my first thought was that we only have enough crafters to process a thousand goldweight into crafted value per week.” Both of them winced. Crafting meant tripling the value! “So mostly, it was ‘Damn, should I even be doing this, because it’s such a bloody waste?’” I shrugged slightly, and then ducked over behind Sama as another wet wave, two, of hydromana blew past me, splattering over her Null. “Can you even feel that?” I had to ask.

“Yes. Hard to describe. Like a river smashing up against the steel wall that is me?” she tried winningly.

“I am going to sneeze on that fabulous hair!” I warned her, and it swirled away and out of reach of my achoo, just in case.

“Hey, now, no abusing the hair,” Briggs protested. Sama promptly clambered up him, gave him a big kiss and everything, and clambered back down while he was still enjoying his happy moment.

The way over a foot of tongue zipped back into her mouth probably had something to do with it, as she winked at me slyly.

“Heard you picked up a succubus back there?” She chin-pointed at my back, then looked tellingly at my somewhat lacking cleavage, clearly amused.

“Oh, that’s not why I did it. He didn’t tell you the reason why?”

“Am I going to need to remonstrate him?” she wondered, tapping her chin forcefully.

“No, it means he’s good at keeping his mouth shut, and compartmentalizing his obligations.” Sama inclined her head to acknowledge that point about The Mick.

“You’re going to hate it.”

“More Powered shenanigans?”

“Best to see it live.” The Wave out there had collapsed with a roar back into the surrounding waters, and despite the sheer massive volume of it, hadn’t affected the local waves at all. “He’s coming back, riding a water wave. Be here in a minute.”

“Oh, this has to do with Master Fred?” Sama considered that. “Succubus... his Hellpact? It lets you touch him?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about that. Thank you!”

“You poor girl. Time to get your mind out of endless karmic grinds, saving the world, and other spiritually rewarding things.”

“Said the woman who is going along with me precisely for those reasons?”

Her fist whipped out, and clonked off of Briggs and his Crystal Shield loudly. “I have a Briggs around!” she announced shamelessly.

“And a very cute Briggs he is,” I agreed, to which he got all kinds of red. “Have you been properly instructing him in the Night Rose disciplines? They don’t come easily to him, as I recall...”

“Oh gods,” he muttered, as Sama’s eight canines gleamed.

Master Fred, zipping along speedily, was deposited on the shore in a smooth flow of water, and without any appreciable unsteadiness kept on walking right towards us.

That he was a Nine, and successful, was obvious by the way one eye was Aquamarine in hue, while the other was still Storm’s Blue.

“Show her your left tricep, Master Fred,” I instructed him.

He didn’t question, just glancing at me as he rolled up his short sleeve and showed off the silvery Tat gleaming there, obviously magical, obviously filled with Sacred energies.

Sama looked at it, blinked, and leaned in to look at it again. “Hey!” she blurted out. “That’s not fair!”

“You have no idea what an inspiration you have been to me,” I admitted to her. “And now you know why I’ve got a Bound and Sealed succubus on my back.”

She pointed at me. “Briiiiiggs,” she whined loudly. “It’s not fair! She’s stealing my shtick!”

Briggs shrugged philosophically. “Can you anoint a Forsaken with them?” he asked shrewdly.

“Can a succubus?” I answered promptly.

“Nope. Have to get past the Resistance, and if they do, it lasts all of ten minutes, no different from a Curse or a Casting Buff.” He crossed his massive arms, and beamed as Sama hugged him again, her position of power and abuse of Marks safe and secure once again. “Abusing the Powered/Forsaken divide for fun and profit,” he observed sagely.

“Can’t do multiple Blessings on one person, either,” I noted to her, nodding. That was definitely a Forsaken thing. “But, I can literally apply them with a kiss, so I’ve a speed advantage, and they don’t take massive Karma to get into force.” I pointed at the Tat hidden by the sleeve on my own left tricep. “And I can’t put a Blessing on myself, either.”

“Those things are so damn OP,” Briggs admitted to me, and I could only agree...

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There was a short discussion about the two of them potentially waiting here for me to travel all that distance, then Waterjump back here and fetch them. I noted that Sleipner was Named, and they were probably going to pour an unreasonable amount of goldweight into their Weapons so they could also pop around the globe, so they needed to expand their Lived-Lines, too.

It was moot, as they already had a Wagon ready to be towed around right there, and just broke out their bonecarving tools to work on Baneskulls for the trip.

Also, there was the simple fact he was a Source who wanted Karma when he was out and about, and here was this Warlock wandering here and there, and was there ANY chance we wouldn’t run into some entertainment on the way?

Nope. Warlocks attracted conflict, and Sources who wanted action got some action. In ALL the ways.

The Wagon was latched to the back of Sleipner, aerodynamic frame and gentle Disk-based hovering meaning it would stay in position well, even with the two new ramjets unfolding out of his sides.

And hey, someone with Fire Reserve was riding there in the second seat, so Master Fred didn’t have to split his attention.

I had easily gotten all the Valence counts needed to boost Fire Reserve to V, while doing the mind-boggling feat of burning Fire Elementals to death before the eyes of a lot of people. Hey, combine Divine energy with Primal energy, and you 100% bypass fire resistance or immunity. I had those Feats for bloody reasons, you know?

So, 6d6 of pure Fire energy was getting pumped through my right handrest down into Sleipner’s engines, and they burned happily to life as the unicorn cycle rolled down the shore, out over the water, turned south, and began to pick up speed.

The waves and water parted smoothly before us, no reason to ride above them, so the ride was literally as straight and smooth as glass. Master Fred’s Ward Wall shaped itself into a windshield even as his Storm Pact split the air seamlessly as well, and the ramjets burned to life, sucking in the air from outside my straddling legs and buttressing the Wagon being dragged behind as we really began to pick up speed.

Sleipner didn’t need rockets to hit 500 kph, so them burning like they were, they really started to hop up the speed. He started to whinny in excitement as 500 went sliding on by, rising quickly as he geared up again, and again, and again with the ramjets, and two-meter-long tongues of flame, totally ignored by Sama and Briggs back there, reached backwards and kept us shooting forwards like a missile.

Master Fred was providing power, letting Sleipner do all the driving. He’d been instructed to stay within a half-mile of the shore if at all possible, as Lived-Line access was one of the reasons we were doing this instead of just chartering a plane. Dumb not to have access to the land quickly, right?

It did make the trip longer, but also gave us more scenery to watch scroll by. Because the water, waves, and wind got out of the way, we didn’t raise a massive spray behind us, although we could have very easily. Indeed, there was barely an open-and-shut ripple on the surface of the sea as we rocketed along.

We got up to 700 kph, at which point Sleipner tapered off and got familiar with his handling at such a velocity. We would have no reaction time if something suddenly popped up in front of us, but that was why the Part Winds and Waves was in effect, getting the rote animals out of the way, and even stopping the bugs from doing a windshield splatter.

I did have to lean into him to stay out of the slipstream, which I’m sure he didn’t mind, and I saw him flinch when I put my ungloved hand on him and there was no reaction. I smiled and kept looking east at the scenery, handling Allegiance stuff with one part, keeping the Reserve pumping with another, and fuguing with the other, Detect Location up and scrolling out as fast behind me as if Sleipner was full out Veilwalking down a highway road of shadows...

--------

“...and dream of the winds at dawn.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

I rolled an inner eye at my Assay as my automatic recital of the Salute to Aethra trailed off.

Yesterday had been a landmark moment... which had fallen flat. Craft Theurge/4, Theurge Level to Artificer/4 (7), Purchased Mastery Extra Bombs/3, Feat Craft Ring!

Ringlord Title!!!!... No, I hadn’t actually made a Ring with the Feat. Massive deflation. Rassum, frassum...

Nogging my Strength base to 16, functioning 21, was very nice, but lost in my disappointment.

Today was filling in Artificer’s Weird Science counterpart, Alchemist/4. +1 to Intellect and Dexterity, Nogging Wisdom to 18, 41/29/29. Mastery Extra Bombs/4, Alchemist Discovery Celestial Poisons (Ravages), Feat Lingering Spirit, which made my death threshold an even higher wall to climb.

Alchemical cockroach, that was me.

It had been a long and uneventful drive so far, following the curves of the land south, breaking out of the Gulf of California and down along the shore of Mexico into the greater Pacific. Master Fred’s Pact with the Waters didn’t waver, transferring over smoothly, and if the Aquamarine hue in his left eye was one shade darker, who was going to notice?

Yes, it would have been much shorter to just take off on a straight arc across the deeper ocean, but again, Lived-Line. Teleportation effects only measured starting and ending point distances for range. If two points were a hundred miles apart, and you traveled a thousand miles all over the place getting there, a hundred miles was all you had to reach, as you slid across the graph paper to an earlier point on your dimensional timeline.

---

“Alert, Alert, SOS detected! Alert, Alert, SOS detected!”

I opened my actual eyes as Master Fred’s Vaccine, naturally configured to receive broadcast alerts like that, blared its alarm quietly. I peeked over his shoulder at the Holo that came up.

Fifty miles out to sea, thataway. They must have popped a drone for altitude to reach this far.

“What’s going on?” Briggs asked from behind me, his Voice having a slow steadiness from coming out of fugue.

“We’re offshore of Peru, and an SOS just came up out to sea. Master Fred is turning to investigate.”

“My, how unexpected!” Sama’s smile was totally audible. “ETA?”

The rockets kicked up to another level as Sleipner stretched his legs. “350ish seconds or so?”

“Any idea what we are looking at?” Briggs immediately broke in.

“General alert. Seeing no video, no text, no audio. Like someone hit a button.”

“So, panic, accident, and/or a trap.” He sounded supremely unconcerned. “Source, shipping lanes, traffic, reports of any kind?”

There was a bleep as Gregorigori’s Holo popped up, and sighed theatrically. “You can’t even go on vacation without excitement, can you?” he asked rhetorically. “The Ship’s ID is the Rokugunate. The flag is Chilean, but it bases out of Shanghai.”

There was a shift in the Wagon behind me. “Is that so?” Briggs’ voice came floating over, he and Sama obviously on the conference call. See, little indicator at the side of the Holo saying so, I’m observant. “Deck plans?”

They flicked up, revolved, layered, parsed for us, and were installed in our Visual Files for reference, along with some passing pictures of the rusting, no-account ship, a five-hundred-footer that looked as if it should be on its way to the bottom of the sea.

“Something’s wrong with the spectra on that corrosion damage,” Briggs said instantly. “That’s an alchemical paint job, not corroded paint.”

“Someone’s spent time and effort to make this look like a crappy ship?” I narrowed my eyes. “From Shanghai?”

“That’s not ominous, no way,” Sama muttered. “Call it, Briggs.”

“You’re in the water, I’m on the deck, Trav’s in the air, and Master Fred backs up who needs backup. Preliminary plan is to board from the stern and sweep forward, I’ll reassess when I see the situation closer. Sleipner, slow to tactical by the time you hit the mile marker, please.”

The unicorn whuffed acknowledgement as we sped into the dark of the evening ocean...