Chapter Six. Hard realities.

Chapter Six. Hard realities.

'Fucking Telepathy?' Bob thought incredulously.

'Help Telepathy,' he thought firmly.

System Help, Telepathy. Telepathy is a Mental protocol used for high-speed communications between users by forming a link powered by mana. It can be used to review or record a sentient targets thoughts, however, they are given the opportunity to resist should that action be taken.

'Ok,' Bob thought, so not full-on mind rape then.

'Fuck it, I accept.'

"Hello! I'm so pleased to meet you, my name is Kelli, I understand your name is Bob?" a voice pierced his skull.

Bob winced, and tried to mentally project as if he was issuing a command to the system, 'Yes, my name is Bob.'

"Excellent, oh my, your language really is very different isn't it?" The voice said excitedly.

'Yes, it would certainly seem so - how exactly are you able to tell that?' Bob queried.

"Oh, as the originator of the spell I receive your response in your own language, then the magic phrases it to me in mine." the voice explained happily.

It was at this point that Bob noticed that the excited and happy tones of voice matched perfectly with the expressions of the small man who was staring at him.

'Alright,' he mentally projected, 'I can accept that. Is there any chance you can somehow send my words and your words back to me, so I can try to learn your language a bit faster?'

"Ah, well I could do that I suppose, although it seems terribly cumbersome. It would be much easier if we can convince Thidwell to provide the crystals necessary for me to simply copy the language to you," the voice, er, Kelli he supposed, advised.

'And I suppose Thidwell is the giant behind the desk?' Bob enquired.

"Oh my, yes I suppose he would seem to be a 'giant' as you say, but I can assure you he was only slightly taller than average before he advanced to tier six, and yes as the Curator of Holmstead, he is the one who can provide the necessary crystals."

'I have quite a few questions, but the most important one is this - how do I get home?' Bob asked.

"Where are you from - just think about your home and project it towards me," Kelli said.

Bob thought about home. Home to him was Monroe, the beat-up couch he had rescued from the curb and sewn a cover for, and the tiny spice garden he'd grown in his window sill, despite Monroe's best efforts to eat them. Monroe curled up on his chest, purring up a storm. Monroe playing tag with him from the bathroom to the kitchen. He pushed all of it towards Kelli.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

"Oh, ok. Apparently, your home is a feline. I meant more the town you live in..." Kelli replied.

'Monroe kind of ~is~ home to me,' Bob thought, then thought about Cal-Tech, and of course Watts. He pushed those mental images towards Kelli.

"You aren't from this world," Kelli stated with absolute certainty.

"I'm not sure how you arrived here, and I have only the vaguest of suggestions as to how you might get home," Kelli sent, "But finding the answers you are looking for would be helped greatly by knowing our language."

'I have a few questions about that,' Bob projected, 'first, what are these crystals?'

System User Kelli Armell is attempting to impart his knowledge of the language "Thaylan" to you. To consent either Mentally project or Verbally articulate, "I accept" or to resist, Mentally project or Verbally articulate "No"

'I accept,' he mentally projected with no small amount of trepidation.

Kelli was staring at him, but it didn't really seem like he was seeing him.

Bob waited, nervously, counting down from one hundred. If there was a magical ritual happening, Bob was a little disappointed. Where was the chanting, the unnatural breeze, or the quiet murmurs of the Great Old Ones? Bob shook his head. Focus. How likely was the head explosion danger? Kelli seemed like he had a bit of a sense of humor so maybe that was just a jo- "ARGH" Bob gasped as he grasped his temples, and the world faded to black.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thidwell sighed, looking over his desk at the figure slumped on the floor.

"So, what is his world like?" Thidwell asked Kelli.

Kelli paused to consider his answer, then replied "For Bob? It seemed pretty terrible. He hasn't ever experienced mental projection or telepathy before, so I got a lot more than I think either of us intended."

Thidwell cocked his head to the side and waited for Kelli to continue.

"First off, there isn't any magic there. They have something called science instead. Carriages that run on some sort of smelly liquid, but are faster than any man or beast, and can run for hours, even days. Metal tubes attached to metal plates that burn another liquid to create a roaring fire behind the plates, which hurls the Metal tube, full of hundreds of people, above the earth at speeds so great it cracks the sky," he paused and shook his head.

"And the cities! He grew up in a city of, and I believe I have this right, several thousand, thousand people. I know the sages have a word for that number but I can't recall it." Kelli finished.

"But for Bob this was terrible?" Thidwell asked.

"Yes," Kelli replied soberly, his excitement over the tubes and carriages evaporating. "From what I saw, his mother was a whore. They have schools, as Harbordeep does, but he was mocked and bullied for his poverty, and his mother's profession" Kelli shook his head. "There is something... I don't know. His world was quite cruel to him. Rather than lashing out, he seems to have repressed the anger."

"This world can be quite cruel as well," Thidwell replied gruffly.

Kelli nodded and replied "I don't think Bob would have a problem adapting to our world, and perhaps even thriving. I don't think I've ever encountered a more logical and organized mind, although his emotional state is quite damaged."

"Perhaps -" Thidwell stopped as Bob groaned and pulled himself up onto the chair.

"Fuck," he groaned.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bob didn't drink. Ever. It was partially an abhorrence of alcohol, born of seeing his mother's drunken antics, and partially because he had decided to live by those five rules, and alcohol would have been against his goal of being healthy.

As a result, he didn't know what a hangover felt like. But he was pretty sure this was it.

"The pounding pain will stop in a minute, although you might have a slight headache for the rest of the day," said a cheerful voice from beside him.

"You should have warned me," he muttered to Kelli.

"If I had warned you, you might not have agreed to it, and isn't it a good thing you did? We are speaking Thaylan after all." Kelli replied.