Slumrat Rising

Chapter 112: Run Sinnerman

Teasing the girl you like is fun. Truth was feeling giddy as he quickly walked away from the little chapel. Teasing the girl you like is fun, watching her wriggle and not move as you whisper secrets and affection in her ear. It was scary too. Opening up. Speaking a name he had left unspoken since his murder. There was something about the saying of it, setting the words free on the wind. As though they would be carried directly to his killers.

It was scary because it meant that Truth Medici hadn’t died, or at least hadn’t stayed dead. He’d been hidden in a well for five years and in “Tommy Wells” for the last… How long had it been? A month? A couple of months? Not that long. Felt a lot longer. The days were just so full. Everything was new to Tommy Wells. The world was just so big, and he was so free in it. A wild, disorienting freedom, where he found strange new thoughts and a growing sense of who he was. A world beyond the tip of his nose and the brush of his whiskers.

Squeak Squeak, little rat. You are learning to look up.

He walked quickly to Merkovah’s room. It was as spare as always. Merkovah was waiting, smiling. He touched a talisman, and dense thickets of anti-surveillance wards sprang to life.

“I wish to emphasize that Nag Hamadi’s views on the nature of God and the universe do not represent those of the TEMPLE of Nag Hamadi, nor that of Siphios Reform Orthodoxy in general. You should in no way rely on it for any future theological choices you may make.”

“Got it.”

“Other things, however, you may rely on it for. I am… honestly surprised you figured out what was happening to the world. I had a whole thing ready to show you, to persuade you it was really happening.”

“I’ve had an unusual view of things between working for Starbrite and traveling around since my termination.”

“Which I must say I have wondered about. While I have met a rare few who were fired from Starbrite and lived, I have never met someone who left the company after receiving the System. Frankly, even after extensive experimentation, I thought it was impossible.”

Truth could vividly imagine what that “experimentation” looked like.

“I didn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“I didn’t live.”

“You seem remarkably fit for a dead man.”

“I eat clean.”

“I do think you would make a fine Desrin, once you developed the faintest shred of faith in God.”

“Not Siphios?”

“It is, unfortunately, quite difficult to convert. Not impossible, mind you. And while I would be delighted if you did, you would have a religious obligation to live in Siphios and swear allegiance to the King.”

“Wouldn’t mind living in Siphios. Probably going to pass on the rest.”

“I thought as much.”

The conversation lulled. It seemed neither really knew how to initiate what they both knew was coming next. Eventually, Merkovah made a face like he was trying to chuckle and failing.

“Mr. Wells, would you say that I have been sincere with you?”

“Largely. You have only told me one outright lie that I recall, and generally, your manipulations have been tolerable. All in all, working with you has been very positive.”

Merkovah gave him half a smile for that one.

“You continue to have the oddest way of seeing things.”

“Paying someone is manipulating them. Taking them on a vision journey is another sort of manipulation. A holy sword, a wise, benevolent teacher, powerful magic; I suspect you would have gotten me a horse if I didn’t already have my two-wheeler.” Truth half smiled right back. “I was wrong. You don’t want a hitter. You want your own kind of hero.”

Merkovah did chuckle at that. “It seems that I succeeded, at least in part.”

“Nah.”

“Oh no?”

“Nope. You made a terrorist. So. Let’s talk about what we’re going to blow up.”

Merkovah almost fell out of his chair.

“Young Man!”

“Tommy Wells, Talisman Maintenance. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“You damn well aren’t!”

“I wanted to be one. I could have been a good one.”

“That I can believe. We are not terrorists, Mr. Wells. Actually, what is your name?”

“Truth Medici, Professional Terrorist. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Truth? Truth. Of course you are called Truth. Why would you be called anything else? Truth, we are not, not, terrorists!”

“We are planning on using violence and fear to kill thousands, if not millions, in the hope of bringing about political and economic change. I mean, what else could you call it?”

“If the world does not change, right damn now, BILLIONS will die! Billions! We will be lucky to have any humans on this planet at all in twenty years. We aren’t terrorists, Mr. Wells. Truth.” Merkovah stopped with a jerk and glared at Truth.

“I was not the only one manipulating, it seems. Habit is a powerful thing. Mr. Medici, if we don’t save the world, everyone dies. Slow or fast. So, yes, some people's lives will become a great deal worse after we strike. Many will, inevitably, die. However, the overwhelming majority will be saved. We truly are heroes, Mr. Medici, however much you may not like the term.”

“Sure. And how many fucks about the greater good do you think those necessary sacrifices will give? Look, you don’t have to sell me on the rightness of your cause- I’m already there with you. The question is, what do you need to know from me, and what can you tell me about you?”

Merkovah was left grasping for a moment. “I have never once sympathized with a Starbrite employee. I suddenly feel great empathy for your former supervisors.”

“My performance reviews were all outstanding.” Truth shrugged. “Although, in retrospect, I did get a lot of odd looks.”

“This, I can also believe.” Merkovah breathed out explosively through his nose. “Hokay. Listen, I’ve actually been pretty up-front with you about everything. Almost all the global exports are controlled by Starbrite, and they take a cut of almost all the imports. They can do this because they have the muscle, economic and military, to make it work. Both their economy and military are built around the System. Smash that, the whole thing collapses.”

“Ok… and if it doesn’t?”

“Pardon?”

“If you destroy the system, and the workers and soldiers say “Actually, we are still loyal to Starbrite and intend to fight you to the death,” then what?”

“Then they will briefly have a very unhappy time. No spells without the System, remember?”

“Hard to forget.” Not a word of lie either. As amazing as Incisive was, and it was amazing, there was something about the ease of swapping between spells that he would never forget. Something about always having the perfect answer.

“C-Tier? At your age? Impressive.”

“You know perfectly well I was in the PMC.”

“True. Force of habit.”

This led to another extended pause.

“You want to talk about it?”

“What, working for the PMC?”

“Yes. Truthfully… Huh, I can see that getting irritating fast.”

“Yep. I have heard each and every possible joke on the subject.”

“Understandable. Alright, I would genuinely like to know about life inside Starbrite, because while I know a very great deal about it, I have never been able to talk to a living member of, as you call it, the PMC. I expect I will have a lot of questions about your past. This may also prompt you to ask questions of me. I will do my best to answer them, but there are some questions I cannot answer.” The beardy exorcist shrugged one shoulder. “Wouldn’t be a very good freedom fighter if I went around shouting my secrets.”

Truth shrugged too and started talking. Then stopped immediately and looked directly at Merkovah. “How old are you, Teacher?”

Mercovah also started to answer, stopped, then started again. “A lot older than fifty.”

“How much older?”

“Six hundred and a bit. I’d have to do the math to figure it out exactly. It’s a particular kind of body cultivation, tied to a particular and not… excessively repeatable… magical practice that is responsible for my longevity. Off-world, such life-extending magics are fairly common. On this world, not so much.”

“Huh. Something I can do with the Meditations?”

“At a high enough level, you should theoretically stop aging, yes. Before you ask- because it’s quite a high level, and people on this planet don’t generally do body cultivation. Not worth the return on effort.”

“Nifty. So anyway, this is the short version.” Truth gave a quick summary of his working career and was then forced to go back over it again and again. It got really old, real fast.

“You can use any weapon almost instantly?”

“Well, with a few minutes to get used to them. They only work in a few different ways, after all.”

“No, they do not. At all. Wait, had you ever used a sword before I handed you The Tongue?”

“She’s my very first.”

“Young man, swords are always masculine! Masculine!”

“Sure.”

“Wait, what about vehicles? Machinery generally?”

“Not at the same level, no. I pick them up at about the same rate as everyone else, I think.”

“Alright, hand-to-hand combat?”

“Yep.”

“Squad tactics?”

“Nope. I mean, I know how. I was trained on it, but not… supernaturally good at it or anything.”

“Grand strategy?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure I know what that is.”

“Mmm… any solutions for the present crisis leap to mind?”

“No. That’s why I’m talking to you.”

“Ah. Fair enough.”

And so on and so on. Merkovah was very interested in what happened at Kofi, and they went over it a few times.

“It was never clear to anyone why or how that spiritual attack occurred. The Godchild Army denied all responsibility, but then, they would. I of course suspected Starbrite, but I haven't found much to substantiate that theory. This is the first direct evidence I have that someone, someone quite senior, at Starbrite knew the attack was coming.”

“How do you figure?”

“Your squad was told to form the most powerful spell you could, given your level, that would provide little to no protection against physical attacks, but superlative protection against spiritual attacks. Seconds later, the attack struck. How do you not make that connection?”

Truth had to concede there. Later-

“Do not tell anyone you were part of the attack on Fort Leucre. No one. In fact, to the extent possible, let that knowledge die with you.”

“Happy to. Any particular reason?”

“Other than the massacre of dozens of civilians? Does there need to be more?”

“I suppose not.” He couldn’t imagine Etenesh smiling after learning that about him.

“Let's press on. Who, exactly, did you guard on your bodyguard details? Every name will help.”

A bit later- “You’re joking.”

“No, I really was dead for five-ish years.”

“That I can almost believe. No, I mean, you're joking when you say it’s not important how you “got better.”

“I wouldn’t be a very good terrorist if I went around shouting my secrets. Although it’s not really repeatable. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Haaah. Ok. Just. Going to table that for a minute. You say the System ejected from you or tried to. Please describe the process in as much detail as possible.”

Truth did, without mentioning the whole “mutilated soul” angle.

“Tearing out part of your soul? Are you certain about that?”

“Pretty certain. The System was definitely trying to leave with a chunk of me.”

Merkovah grinned, then started laughing. He tilted his head back and laughed like his sides would split. Truth saw tears running down the side of his face. After a minute, the old monster gathered himself and muttered something. It sounded like “Thank you-” and a name.

“At last. At last. Centuries. It has taken centuries. Heroes beyond counting have died. But at last. At our darkest hour. The enemy gives us the weapon of our deliverance.” Merkovah wiped away his tears and looked sharply at Truth.

“Mr. Medici, I intend to train you to a competent level with Incisive- that is, the foresight, the cutting, the armor, and maybe just a smidge of the rhetoric. I then intend to use a few natural treasures, national treasures, here in Siphios to force your growth to Level Four. The faster you can cultivate, the easier and more successful that process will be. I will then instruct you on the Sword of Moshe. By the time you have a preliminary grasp of that, you will be highly resistant to passive, lower-level magics, possessed of some resistance to mid-level magics, and between the Meditations, Incisive, and the Sword, you will be almost impossible to scry on passively. Active attempts to magically find you will also massively struggle.

“I promised you these things before, but let me explain exactly what I want you to do. I want you to cut off the System from the magic that feeds it. And then we really hurt them. Tell me, young man. Do you know much about necromancy?”