Adamant Blood

Mark walked out of Inquisitor Hall alone.

Isoko and Sally had left hours earlier, both of them headed off together because Sally had come out of her thing with Sentinel Walter looking weird, so Isoko had gone with. Sally had wanted to talk with Isoko, though. Girl to girl maybe? Mark wasn't sure.

Mark had stayed behind because he had been deep in the history of the Inquisition, and learning why they had come about was always the worst, so it needed to be done all at once. So Lola had continued, knowing she was putting a lot on him. Lola had needed to leave at 2:40 because she had an appointment with Derek Kevins, like, 400 meters down that way, and Mark was pretty sure that they were still having Union lessons, but Mark had stayed in the Hall for private study…

Honestly, Mark didn't want to think about any of that shit he heard and read about ever again. But he did think about it. Over and over again. The stories of the Chosen of the Gods triumphing over evil and finding evil everywhere, even after they triumphed, were simultaneously buoying, and destroying. There was no end to the problems of people, because people had problems with other people just by virtue of being different, and then, apparently, a small subset of people would always fall to the temptation to take up demons against their human enemies.

Logically, Mark understood it.

It was all math, basically.

In a given subset of people, some people were powerful, some were weak, some looked after others, some took and took and took, and some did wrong. The larger the subset of people, the greater number of people would fall on any extreme at all.

Those people who did wrong were products of their upbringing and circumstances, of course, but also, past a certain point, they made choices for themselves. Past a certain point, those choices had severe consequences.

Exile was the usual major consequence, for almost every major offense, as long as exile didn't kick the problem down the road. Honestly, the whole system for declaring exile was kinda fucked up, but jail wasn't always an option because of resource scarcity, and some people didn't get better in jail, and sometimes jail was a punishment in some cultures, instead of an attempt at rehabilitation.

Imagine that! Jail as punishment, instead of rehabilitation! Did those cultures want their bad guys to stay bad? It boggled the mind!

… But exile was there. Exile was an option.

But exile was only for people like Mindbenders, like that woman, Mary Getty, who tried to kill Mark and Isoko after her team tried to kill Mark before that, to take his adamantium. Mary had been guilty of mindbending crimes and exiled because she was still out there killing monsters with her family. That was a good use for her. But she was also killing people, and in that case, shouldn't Memphi just have executed her?

Mark had killed her eventually…

Mark still remembered how she had exploded due to being sped up, and not able to withstand that speed. Sometimes Unions could kill, and positive effects, like speed, became negative effects, when concentrated strongly enough.

Mark also remembered carving adamantium claws through cultists while the sky was on fire, the land was sand, and Kardi was headed for his friends, to kill them, but Mark had caught up and… And she escaped.

… Anyway. Math.

Some people were good. Most people were mostly good. Some people were users. Some people were abusers. A very small subset of people were going to be exiled in their life, and some people would turn to horrible ends to get ahead in life. That last group would Contract with demons, because, for example, the power they were born with, or they Awoke to, was not good enough for them, because the world was dangerous and horrific, and the only way to be safe was to have power.

The desire for power had driven Mark to seek out Addashield, and then all of this shit had happened.

Mark crashed out on a bench near the river, legs spread, no one around for tens of meters.

The river flowed over rocks, and greenery grew around those rocks. Those reeds and weeds were filling in whatever space they could find. Doing everything they could do, to live.

Mark stared at the water and wondered if he would have become a cultist if he had gone into the Tutorial and come out with Strong.

Just 'Strong'.

No Adamantiumkinesis, no Union, not even Platinum Body or Giant's Strength. And certainly no Man-made Manipulation. Basic-fucking-brawny, doing Basic brawny bitchwork. Loading hoverships. Picking shit up. Putting shit down. A 'decent' life, according to popular media. And it was! Technically, it was a very good life. Cities were very safe… except when they weren't.

Basic brawnies weren't allowed outside city walls without teammates that could cover their weaknesses, particularly to all the Natural monsters out there. A brawny could splat a Natural monster no problem; Body and Natural were opposites on the Power Hex. But by that same token, Brawnies would die if a Natural miasma or hypnosis monster spotted them first, which they often did—

Mark's breath sped up as an old horror revisited him; the horror of being weak.

In the hospital, in a coma, unable to walk—

"Sir," Quark said, "Your heart rate is spiking."

Mark beat his heart with Good and Bad. For a moment, black lightning scattered across grasses, across the waters of the river, and then Mark felt better. The nearest 20 meters had a bit of a… discharge problem. Lichtenberg patterns swirled in coruscated paths. It was mostly a surface problem.

Mark felt better, though. "Thank you, Quark. Can you please log the property destruction."

"Done. Would you like to pay the fine now, too? It is 2,500 settlement credits."

Mark nodded as he leaned back and let his legs go forward. Quark dinged; fine paid. Mark stared at the auroras in the deep sky. The sun shone through those auroras like they didn't exist, and they kinda didn't.

"… I think I'm always going to have a problem with the darker side of humanity, Quark," Mark said.

"Most people do."

Mark snorted. "I don't think that's true at all. Lola has killed…" Mark wasn't supposed to speak stuff learned in Inquisitor's Hall outside of the Hall, but that was going to be difficult when some things like Lola's track record was common knowledge. Well. 'Common'. Any state actor or full Inquisitor could look up the track record of any Inquisitor and find out their histories. Everyone who worked with Lola thus knew more about her than Mark, until today. Mark still really liked Lola. A lot. She was important to him. But she had killed… "She's killed a lot of people."

"People who were going to kill others. One person who did, because of inaction."

Mark groaned, and said, "I never thought I'd agree with Drakarok but his policy of 'retaliation only' makes a whole lot of sense. Preemptive stuff is important. I absolutely agree. But… If some kids go bad, maybe it's only because they're being pressured that way, because the Inquisition is looking at them."

"I have a very good example of that not being true, sir."

Mark paused. "… Who?"

"You."

"… Oh," Mark grunted. And then he frowned. And then he added, "But I'm an idiot who didn't believe that people would actually kill other people, on purpose. We're not talking about idiots like me. We're talking about 99% of people. 99% of people would have thought that the Inquisition was out to kill them, and they would have tried to kill first."

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"Probably more like 5% of people. For much of humanity, and also for AIs, people killing people is crazy."

"… It sure doesn't seem that way, according to Inquisition history."

"That's a bias, sir. If the Inquisition breathing down a person's neck is enough for them to try and kill people to gain more power, then perhaps the Inquisition is doing exactly what it needs to do. If someone can be pushed, then they must be pushed, and if they can be pushed over an edge, then maybe they need to be pushed over that edge."

"That seems incredibly simplistic and very dangerous."

"It is, yes. How could I reason better?"

Quark did that sometimes; he thought he had made a mistake, so he asked for clarification.

Mark just frowned, though, and said, "Your reasoning is probably correct for the vast majority of cases, for those who think that…" Mark paused, unsure where he was going with this thought. And then he thought a bit more, and said, "Maybe for the vast majority of cases, a person does need to be pushed a little, but only until you can realize which side of the fence they fall on; are they someone who will endanger others for their own benefit, or does that action seem anathema to them, and then you need to back off… Maybe? That feels kinda right to me." Mark waved a hand. "Probably overly simplistic, too."

Quark said, "A decent enough place to start, sir. And that's sort of what the Collective did to you."

Mark rolled his eyes. "That doesn't seem like an equivalency. The first month at Citadel Freyala was like that, though… I think. I kinda blocked it out— Say? Can you get the records that COFR took of me when I was there? See how they interrogated me? Maybe… Maybe pinpoint when they decided to trust me? What was it, exactly? Because I'm sure as shit trusted now… I think?"

"One moment," Quark said.

Mark remained on the bench, watching the river roll over rocks and vegetation try to stand up against the water. There were a lot of places where reeds and weeds simply couldn't grow at all. But moss had a great time enjoying the vast majority of rock-surface all to itself. Mark imagined life was a lot like that, because it obviously was; big things could only change the world when they grew tall enough to press back against the water, so they had to start in the protected space. But the water was always there.

The moss —the smaller people— would get stomped on and kicked away by any guy walking across the stones, as some guys down there were doing right now, playing in the river. 'Monsters just existed', Mark supposed. They stepped on the moss and broke it away, but they didn't hurt the trees.

… They weren't trying to hurt the trees. Those guys were all warriors and they could absolutely hurt those trees if they wanted. But the trees over in the dragonoid canyons? Those hurt you back if you tried to fight them...

The metaphor broke down in the details.

Quark eventually said, "COFR will agree to release the records to you when you are a full Inquisitor. You will be going over other interrogation and investigation scenarios in your training with Lola, and she does not want to influence you against that training."

In truth, Mark was relieved.

Mark chuckled, breathed out, then said, "Ah, thank the gods— Thank Freyala, I guess! It was a stupid request. I don't want to see that time in my life ever again." Mark stood up. It was about 4:30 in the afternoon. Too early to go back. Too late to do… Most other things. Mark said, "I need to fight something. Quark! Rescue missions, critical-to-minimal monster hunts at my level, and then there's a whatever-you-want-wildcard for the last slot. Show me what we got!"

Quark flickered in Mark's vision, silver light flashing on a floating screen, and then the screen began to gain words, as it hovered down and forward in Mark's sight. If Mark moved his eyes left and right the screen stayed back there where Quark had put it. It was nice to have it like that; Quark could put up critical stuff into Mark's vision but it wouldn't block his vision because it would always be to the sides.

The screen resolved.

Quark read them off, "Options! A) Send out an all-call to all teams, to see if any of them want a rescue and ride back for 2,500 credits. B) No critical or otherwise monsters spotted at your level! Sorry. C) Tuesday Night Takedowns; brawny fights and non-brawny fights, limited to weapons and to first blood."

Mark was torn in two directions. Since there were no critical settlement monster kill quests, or even it-would-be-nice-if-this-were-dead kill quests, Mark was… going to do the right thing. Blegh… Mostly. Taxi service wasn't the best, but it did save lives, and a lot of teams out there were reluctant to get rescued, but they still needed those rescues. A lot of them simply didn't want the walk back into town, too, and for 2,500 credits, for some missions out there it was worth the cost.

Mark could carry a lot of goods when he really got his adamantium propellers up to speed.

But...

"The brawny fights? You want to do that, Quark?"

"It's quite a lot of good information, so yes."

Mark couldn't compete in the actual brawny fights; the big weight classes, like Sally or even Isoko could. But he could certainly do the small brawny fights. Those were fights where everyone else fought each other. Mages and crafters and healers all needed to spar, too.

"Then we'll probably be doing brawny fights, but sign us up for a non-critical rescue taxi. I'll let it run until after dinner. Any place you want to eat dinner?"

"I have gathered all the information I need from tasting, thank you."

Mark breathed deep, and then looked left and right… And then he thought about that place down by the south gate. Mark decided, "We're having Islander food!"

Mark walked down the riverwalk, toward the lake, to get to the bridge headed south. Within a few minutes he was walking close enough by Lola and Derek to actually see what they were doing, instead of just feeling out what they were doing.

Lola was rapidly speaking lessons like she was a push and play Union teacher, as she sat on the grass with her knees under her. She was actually speaking quite fast. 5 people were listening to her, and all 5 of them were the same.

Derek Kevins was in a group of himself, sitting on the grass, practicing everything Lola was saying.

Derek had a grafted Union, so he wasn't able to do much. From what Mark was seeing, he was basically limited to a Union of Good and Bad, but my gods, was he working that single application hard. Mark watched as he ran through all of the major lessons Mark had had on Good and Bad in a minute. He was cutting himself, healing himself, Unioning with the plants, with himself, killing himself and saving himself at the same time, spewing miasma in the air and dispelling miasma, and also learning how to thread miasma back into the world.

Lola continued, "Good and Bad can be many things. Healing is the main thing, but you can also infuse your definitions of 'Good' and 'Bad' with ideas of being light enough to float above an icky swamp, and make your enemies too heavy to swim— Nope! You stay right here, young man."

Derek had finally noticed Mark, and all of him turned his direction and one of them split off into another 'Clone' and tried to jog his way, but then Lola called him back. Derek winced. He tried to say, "I can do a lot at one time—"

"And we have established that you can still only focus on one thing well at a time, and you are focused here. Sit down." Lola asked, "Unless you lied to me about that?"

"… Yes, ma'am," Derek #6 said as he sat back down.

The other Dereks chuckled at that, like they were glad he didn't get to go with Mark, either—

"See you later, Mark!" Lola called out, waving from where she sat.

That was a dismissal for sure.

Mark waved, and then walked down the riverwalk.