“I would, but I have no money. And not a single idea about this game either.”
Ralf looked at his opponents.
“What you say, give this rookie here a learning round?”
Xander nodded.
“Sure, why not. We have just only started, anyway. Might as well take a break before the real game starts.”
Grigory barked. Based on his slight convulsions, Joe guessed that it was mimic’s analogue to laughing.
He decided to decline for now.
“Some time later, maybe. Thanks, Ralf, but I better get prepared for the morning. My last visit to the place so dear to me, it seems.”
Ralf chuckled, and waved his hand.
“Suit yourself. Who knows, maybe one day you will return to this land, build a nice house, replant a forest, he-he… Well, gentlemen, another game?”
“You bet! I’ll get the cards.”
Xander shuffled the deck and threw each card across the table to his friends with the agility and precision of the professional casino dealer.
Wait, where in the world he could’ve possibly learned that?!
Ahh, the man of mystery and grace! I am, like, so inspired!
Not now, girl. Stop being thirsty for cats.
Ignoring the outraged cries of Empathy, he looked through the shelf. Once again, the choice was pretty huge.
He hated that feeling. He hated the feeling, when he had so many possibilities, his mind was simply unable to pick one.
Worse yet, he didn’t even know what he wanted to pick. He hadn’t even finished his other books yet!
You see, bredda, you are trying to grab too much weight. You’ll never get anywhere. Just slow down, lie on a cloud, and take things one at a time…
He was right, but Joseph wanted to know more-
You can’t know anything, student! Just pick a subject, and stick to it! Fighting a war on all fronts leads to a crushing defeat!
The egg-brain has a point, Leader. Even with all the Endurance in the World, you can have only so much time! Speaking of which, you should definitely get some more exercise going!
Soldier! Get the book, but leave it for another day! I will forgive you for now, but you have to work twice as hard tomorrow, you hear me?!
Just stop. Fine, I get the picture…
Disable Subroutine Messages? Yes/No
No, leave them be…
“Oi, Joe. Before I forget - we usually divide the loot in a safe place. So you’ll get your share at the Ghastly Wail, or the nearest hideout.”
Joseph turned to Xander, who called out to him, nodded in acknowledgement, and returned to his woes.
He lost a fight to a shelf. He had no more heart to choose something out of myriad possibilities and push forward. His Fate was now sealed forever…
Honey, what is wrong with you today?! Where did all your energy go?!
Was left back on the island, he guessed. Or he was just tired way more than he thought.
So, he did what any sensible person would do.
He returned to the room, and fell asleep. Without taking off his boots.
*****
He saw a weird dream.
He saw a young woman with black-greenish hair, beating a man down with an iron pipe in a narrow alleyway, with distant lights of a massive city behind her.
He saw a blonde man, protecting a person with platinum hair from a giant human, that was as tall and huge as Xander.
He saw a man with a ponytail, arguing with someone obscured near a laboratory table.
And finally, he saw himself, floating in a small boat across the ever-familiar endless void.
Then when he woke up, he was unable to remember a single person from the dream, except for himself.
What could that mean?… I sure hope it wasn’t some kind of prophetic vision. Floating in Threshold in just a boat screams the guaranteed death.
His head companions were suspiciously quiet, but he didn’t want to fill his mind with thoughts about things that might not even happen in the first place. Joe pushed the image to the back of his memory for future reference and got up.
It was four in the morning. July 18th, year 961 from the birth of Threshold. He, Joseph Snowfield from a small insignificant town on Earth, was now a crew member on the board of the pirate ship, the 'Morning Star', floating in the void called the Threshold, in the world where explosive gas is also alive, can control trees, create mooks and melt you by touching. Oh, and teleporting armored animals are also a thing. What else? Right, he had a program installed into his brain without his consent, and he now shares his precious headspace with no less than nine different personalities.
That would be one hell of a story to share during alcoholics' meeting.
In addition, Joe wasn’t even sure what his position on the ship actually was. Gunman? Scout? Just a random guy, who was doing some things, because the Captain and Ralf, his… handler(?) allowed him to, and didn’t bother to control him at all?
Well, he did have some questions for Ralf, how cannons worked, and such. But after the game night, he could still be asleep.
A couple of people were right there in the room with him, snoring. They didn’t bother to undress too, but unlike him, they were sensible enough to remove their boots, at least. God damn it.
The morning shower took him eight minutes at most. Medbay was still closed, and the ship was quiet throughout. He woke up earlier than anyone, that was obvious enough.
No Ralf in his usual place, either. Joe was right. Or he was playing cards even now, one of the two.
To the Kitchen, then. Once again, he wasn’t going for an elaborate meal. Some vegetables, leftovers from Archrhyder feast, a single egg were enough to satisfy him for a time being. He refilled his flask from a barrel. The water was not of the distilled type, fortunately.
He was feeling excited about his return to the mansion with Roth and Pat. Seeing Lady Edna again, and, possibly, whatever doctor duo had prepared. If Irfan would join them, he would be even happier.
The day hadn’t even passed since he burned down the place, yet Joe was already feeling nostalgic.
He chuckled. Seems like his life was rapidly picking up the pace. He didn’t know, whether it was a good thing.
He was reading ‘Plants, Poisons and Extracts’ in the Arsenal when the voices filled the corridor outside the door. The entire ship was waking up with the first rays of sunlight, flourishing with life again.
While he was reading, he did manage to discover some interesting facts about the world. Not only he now knew what some types of weed in the Kitchen were called, and what they could be used for, besides spicing up the food, he also got the concrete and documented proof that not only Magic existed and was used actively (he had plenty of facts before, from words of Roth to Ailuros and Edna Fox), but that it was also put to use for industrial purposes. Which was not something he personally expected, but it made a lot of sense.
Specifically, he found out, that the Extracts were actually normal liquid medical drugs with Spells or concepts implanted into them. The Spell would apply its effect evenly over the entire liquid, allowing for partial use. Now he realized how his wounds could heal so quickly, even with taking into account the Inner State assistance, when Pat was applying them to his body.
Well, that just might be how they would force Rodger’s flesh to grow back. Although, weirdly enough, Roth with similar wounds was basically put together piece by piece and soldered into one whole human.
They probably just couldn’t get a medic in time. But how did they even manage to literally melt the metal into skin?…
So many questions, no time to sit around. Ralf stormed into the Arsenal, surprisingly fresh and full of life, like it wasn’t him playing cards back then.
“Rise and shine, kid! I see you are ready for a day ahead, good, good! I saw you ransacking in a Kitchen, but I’ll let it slide, since you were wise enough to leave some for me! Pretty good too, and I didn’t have to make as much food, so I owe you one for that!”
“Good morning, Ralf. How did the night go?”
The sour expression was screamer louder than any words would, but Ralf did add some anyway.
“Xander won most Zinks at the end, that sack of fur… Who knew, that he had two Fronts prepared together? The luck on this con artist… but whatever, it doesn’t matter now. What matters, is that in an hour, I’m going with you!”
“Going where? On the island?”
Cook nodded, brimming with outstanding amounts of energy.
“That’s exactly right!”
“Huh, just to take a walk? What prompted such sudden activity?”
Ralf whistled.
“Who could tell? Anyway, our healers will be up soon, and will be at the boats at six.”
“That’s kinda early, isn’t it? Why the hurry?”
His handler shrugged.
“If I had to guess, Cap wants our troupe to be at Ghastly Wail as soon as possible. I heard Zan talking about it briefly last night, but didn’t pay attention. We did grab everything we could carry from your funhouse, so the only thing left was your promise to the transparent Lady. Which, as the man of your word, you have to see through, and Alchie agreed with me.”
“Will Irfan be there, or do I have to get him too?”
“He is up and ready. They will be gathering near Roth’s room. Wanna see them?”
Joe thought about it. He would see them in an hour anyway, no reason to jump up out of his pants right now.
“Nah, I’ll take it slow. Just want to relax a bit.”
The big man grinned.
“Well then kid, how about some shooting practice?”
That was sudden. But he wasn’t letting that opportunity get away.
“Sure, might as well. Where are we going?”
“Upper Deck. Just wait for me there.”
*****
“That’s a lot of bottles.”
Ralf smirked.
“These are our future victims.”
Ralf brought a huge sack, full of glass bottles. Only glass bottles. Where did he get this many, and why he kept them, Joe had no idea.
Meanwhile, the armsmaster put a few bottles on the edge of the ship. Joe realized, that there was one small problem.
“Wait, if glass shards fly away into Threshold, what would happen?”
“Happen?” Ralf looked genuinely puzzled. “No idea, we have never seen floating junk during travels. And if void didn’t clean it one way or another, it would’ve been full of it by now, I swear on my beard. So, there is probably nothing?… To worry about?”
He wasn’t so sure, Joe could see it clearly.
“Anyway, if you are all about the pure environment, like those fanatical plant-heads in the Capital, then we can do it differently.”
“Throw them up?” Joe decided to ignore the first part.
He was joking, but the grin on Ralf’s face told him that he hit the correct suggestion right away.
“Exactly, kid! One throws up, one shoots! Then the loser cleans up afterwards!”
“Won’t we be too late for the meeting?”
The cook threw his hands up.
“Ah, Curses, I forgot for a moment. Well then, loser cleans up after the island! How does that work?”
Everybody hates cleaning up, Joe was no exception. But… why not?
“Sure, it works. Who goes first?”
Ralf got a silver coin out of his pocket.
“Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
The cook flipped the coin.
