Chapter 560 – Assured

Chapter 560 – Assured

John Newman put a fresh card into the cheap flip phone he had just bought and punched in a number that he had memorized. Finger hovering over the call button, he was re-thinking playing this particular card for this occasion, but given the importance of it all, he did press and moved the phone to his ear. Anticipatingly, he listened to the repeated ‘tuuuut’ of the phone.

Walking down the street, John heard the receiver picking up after exactly thirty seconds. “This better be important,” a deep voice with a squeaky undertone echoed in the Gamer’s ear. He didn’t answer, instead letting the other person grow a bit annoyed. The sound of teeth chittering impatiently was his reward, along with the skittering of claws on a wooden table. “Do you wish to be removed?”

“Well, if that was in your interest, you would have done it already,” John took that opening. No amount of teasing was worth the risk of getting hung up on.

“...Oh? Now this is interesting,” the tone of the deep voice changed into amusement. “How did you get this number?”

“Hex noticed that there were people watching my parents, so I had Siena do some investigating. Followed one spy to his superior to that guy’s superior until she finally found a number,” John answered. “I had it for almost two months now, you might want to hire new people to keep a watch on those close to me, Richard.”

The Horned Rat giggled on the other side of the line. “Not even going to demand that I cease?”

“Would you?” John scoffed and rolled his eyes behind his glasses while he dodged a group of people blocking his stride on the walkway. “Let’s skip the annoyances. I am using a new phone and I'll break the card afterwards, as well as having everything on it wiped, just in case you are paranoid. Right now, I am walking circles around Times Square. Nobody has been following me.”

“Secure enough,” the god sounded pleased as he continued. “You’re learning.”

“I kind of have to,” John shrugged. “Not least because of you.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“I know... At the very least I hope you are watching over my parents for a reason that’s not to my detriment.”

“They weren’t watching over your parents,” the Horned Rat answered in a typically cryptic fashion. Whether this was just a line to throw John off or not, the Gamer didn’t get to ask. “What is it that you would sacrifice your direct line to me for?”

“Do you know about the soul cleansing ritual of the Hidden Tradition?” John asked.

“Yes. Ah, wait a moment, I want to take a guess.” The Horned Rat hummed for a few seconds, horn scratched over bone. The image of the skull-faced creature rubbing its chin thoughtfully popped into John’s mind. “With the leverage coming from your new territorial gains, you’re trying to find a fix for Eliza’s situation?”

“Wow,” John was baffled for a moment. “This might be the first time you’re actually not completely in the picture.”

“Oh? Let’s assume I am not,” the amused tone that Richard had was infuriating. Did he know after all and just wanted John to say it? “We are an ocean apart and, as fun as you are, I do have more pressing concerns, usually.”

“You can find out the details with everyone else then,” John forced himself to keep his tone steady and relaxed, even if he felt like shouting at that dick of an ‘ally’. “To correct you on your assumption, they approached me after I lost.”

“Interesting. I will play along then. I do know that ritual. Your inquiry is about whether or not it could succeed in the task and if it could be abused in any way, is it?” This time, the Horned Rat was right on point, so John just made an affirmative sound, and the god continued. “I can’t answer the former without knowing the amount of ancestral spirits involved, or the power thereof. For the second, no, the ritual can only disperse, and given the remaining agency of the ancestors, it would be very hard to use them for anything evil. They are an honourable bunch, the Hidden Tradition.”

“I have your word on that?” John asked.

The Horned Rat laughed out loud, “Why would you even ask for my word?”

“Because if I am not convinced that you’re telling the truth, I will call Romulus.” Once that name was past John’s lips, the laughter ceased. “If there is even a chance Thana or her energy becomes separated and hostile, I will go to any lengths for the emperor to come here. You are aware what that means, right?”

“First time I do this in person,” Scarlett said as she looked at the stumps. They were already healed, fresh skin covering the clean cut.

“Maybe you want to get a helpful camera then?” John teased.

“I already have them,” Scarlett reminded him, numerous mechanical tendrils expanding just to show off zooming lenses. “Alright, this,” she tapped on Ted’s forearm, “will be a lot easier.” A different part of the ground folded upwards, revealing a single rail on which a segment of the wall drove towards them. “Arms are generally easier to replace,” she explained to John. “The technology is simply better developed because a lot more people lose arms than legs. That aside, the less joints to compensate for, the less work.”

The wall segment came to a halt within arms reach of the redhead and opened to a display of a sheer endless amount of automatic precision tools of numerous sizes. Well, they would be automatic normally, following pre-programmed protocols, but under the Technomancer’s guidance they turned into finely tuned manual extensions of her will.

Part after part was teleported out of boxes at the base, outside of John’s view, and quickly assembled a basic skeletal outline of a forearm. He found this whole thing fascinating, since he rarely got to see Scarlett use her powers outside of the digital space. This was more tangible and the attention to detail, especially at the speed she was working at, she put into her work would have made Swiss watchmakers turn green with envy.

The entire machination came to a sudden halt and Scarlett grabbed the, clearly incomplete, limb-replacement and checked if the dimensions were correct by making Ted extend both arms and letting some laser grids run over him. After nodding to herself, she put the mechanic skeleton back into place. “Alright, most important question first, do you want a replaceable or a stationary model?”

“What’s the difference?” Chemilia asked for her husband, sure that the same question went out to her. “Well, no, don’t answer that, I can imagine that one is based on an adapter and the other gets jammed right into our bodies. What’s the advantage of either?”

“I like you,” Scarlett smirked, always one for the straight-talkers. “To the point then. Replaceables are easier to maintain and upgrading them is as simple as switching an old model for a new one, so there is next to no downtime, as long as you don’t lose the old one. Stationary has more accurate sense feedback. Normally, I would also bring up that they are ensouled, while replaceables don’t tend to be; however, at the level of materials we are going to use, that won’t be a problem. I would recommend a replaceable for both of you.”

Ted nodded, Chemilia agreed more audibly, and the wall segment spat out a number of contraptions that looked like large computer plugs, particularly the audio kind. Long pins of metals, rutted and with hooks that would twist into position once a limb was attached to them, securing the hold. Themselves on top of metal cylinders, it all looked pretty futuristic.

‘Wonder what would have happened if the Abyss had found the scientific method on their own,’ John thought. In the absence of need, technology tended to stagnate, at least before the Enlightenment rolled around and made research for the sake of research more and more popular. That fundamental fact of history affected the Abyss, who hadn’t had to deal with disease or hunger to any tremendous degree, like anyone else. Magic society thus only developed in parallel to the normal world until relatively recently.

Even now, the gap between the two layers of reality wasn’t even that large and, in terms of achievements, steadily closing. Humans were a crafty bunch, even in the absence of magic they found ways to create the things they wanted.

“Alright, these,” Scarlett held two of the cylinders after having found fitting ones. “Are the adapters for your new limbs. State of the art, Elementium conductors, Baelementium base, Mithril pin, incredibly difficult to produce,” she warned them. “Second ones won’t be for free, so if you ever lose them, bring the cash.”

“Like you aren’t going to press that money out of me by convincing me of some tax breaks for you,” John joked as he watched the two generals put the adapters on by forcing them over the stump of their limbs. They shrunk down to fit like a latex glove, and Chemilia took a short, sharp breath in as if something had stung her. Nothing too hurtful, evidently, as Ted just stoically shrugged it off and the lady of the pair didn’t raise it a moment later.

“Alright, easy part done,” Scarlett’s sarcastic congratulations rang through the room, “Thankfully you don’t have Hellfire scarring, that would make this whole thing way more annoying.”

“We had,” Chemilia answered. “The Apothecaries just ‘scraped’ it off already.”

“Ah, convenient for me,” the Technomancer shrugged it off and continued her work.

What followed was a lengthy process of measuring everything twice, asking for specific extensions on the design, ranging from something mundane as colour to hidden weaponry. After over half an hour, John didn’t dare to imagine how long it would take for a normal engineer, the Technomancer had produced two suitable replacement limbs of a polished grey. “These are simple steel,” she let them know. “I saved the creation protocol to get the proper things done when I have all the materials I need. Until then, you can use these to get around and get used to the feel, even if the weight will be different.”

Ted simply took his new hand and moved it into position to attach, while Chemilia needed mecha-tendrils to move her replacement leg into place. “Will this hurt?” the pink-haired woman asked; there was no fear in her voice. Guessing that she just wanted to be prepared, John wondered about the answer himself.

“Oh, it will be hell, all electronic emulations of nerves will fire at the same time as the circuits synchronize with your brain,” Scarlett stated matter of factly, lighting herself a cigarette in the meantime. “I bet 10$ on each one of you that you will piss yourself from the pain.”

“I bet against that,” John stated, just to get in on it. The limbs snapped into place.

John was 20$ poorer by the end of the screams.