Mask of Humanity

‘Don’t go,’ broke in a new voice, and Nicolai looked up to see Cait looking at him. The squirming of the dark in its cage faded as his attention shifted away from it. ‘We don’t all agree on this,’ she said, and glanced at John, eyebrows raised. Her throat flexed as though speaking. Communicating to the man privately over Local.

What was she saying?

‘What are you saying?’ he asked, surprising himself.

She frowned at him.

‘You’re talking to him.’ He nodded to John. ‘What are you saying?’

‘She said that we need you,’ said John, sounding irritable. Unhappy to be admitting the fact.

Nicolai felt equally irritable. He’d been a moment from turning and walking away. But now, he wanted to stay. Or at least a piece of him did. His Mask. It was looking at the other humans and it was feeling that they gave it something it was lacking. Company. It was looking at them and seeing them in a way Nicolai struggled to comprehend. As interesting, and likeable, and worth helping.

At least, some of them. Perro. Cait. Maybe even John, who was currently coming towards him. Helping them would help him, his Mask argued. It was the correct route, if he wanted to continue learning what it was to be human.

I suppose, he grudgingly thought, that this could be considered a continuation of the Harold experiment. That had been Part One of his new life’s somewhat sincere attempts to be more human. This could be Part Two. He allowed to the new thing on his face, his Mask, that he would give it a go. If it all grew too difficult or cloying, he could always leave.

That said… Nicolai would not allow his drive to grow stronger, to fight better, to be in any way hampered. He was willing to indulge his Mask in this, but only if rather than hampering his progress, being with these people instead accelerated it.

‘Why did you go?’ asked John after drawing closer, staring at him intently.

‘I was integrating my Seed,’ Nicolai said.

John’s eyes widened. ‘That easy?’

‘Seems so. Once you’ve completed it, it only takes an hour or two.’

‘What did it do?’ asked John, and the others were drawing closer, looking equally interested.

‘It made me stronger,’ Nicolai couldn’t help but admit, smiling. ‘And it altered my Soul Sense.’

‘Soul Sense?’ chirped Azure, a hungry curiosity in her.

They don’t know. He’d suspected as much, having never seen any Soul Sense tendrils from them, despite all having Seeds. A few thoughts moved through him at that realisation. The first time he’d used his Soul Sense, he’d completed a challenge and gained points and Oma crystals. Likewise when he’d first used an Imbued item.

In that regard, this little group was capable of generating more of both. Quite a decent amount, in fact. Once that had happened, the resources could fall into his hands. Nicolai perked up a little with that in mind. He’d found at least one use in keeping them near. Perhaps he could also arm them and teach them, make them useful in other ways. Their showing in this recent fight had been quite poor, but it was understandable.

After all, he had only been able to do as he had because of his shimmer poncho, his recent improvements, and centuries of experience. Given time, the others would improve. He could even help them improve.

His Mask wanted to keep them close because it thought they were good for him, and he was willing to admit it had some minor points. These little interactions and moments were helping him learn to be more human, which… apparently he still cared about.

One part of himself, the larger part, saw this as useful for tactical reasons. The better his act, the more effective he would be, and this would allow him to perfect that act. Given time he could worm his way deeper into their confidences.

Following that, in due time, he would naturally seek to usurp John’s leadership. If he stayed with these people, this was practically inevitable. It wouldn’t be overly difficult. The man was a weak leader. He would also trim the group a little, getting rid of the more difficult elements. His eyes lingered for a moment on Karl, then slowly moved over the rest of them.

His Mask, looking through him, saw people. It became quite upset when it noticed that Nicolai, in contrast, saw human-shaped tools.

Nicolai ignored its scolding. He could envision a future where these people were useful and did as he commanded. At that point they would be a real asset. He couldn’t do everything himself and there were many uses he could put them to. For example, the Oma mines.

He couldn’t go down there and have a band put on, not now he was a Cultivator. Without such a band it would be difficult for him to spend significant time gathering Oma crystals, as he would be at constant risk of being spotted by undead then ganged up on by the masses down there. Still, with the poncho he felt he could creep down and come up with a method to steal some crystals whenever he needed more, but he didn’t particularly want to do so. It would consume quite a chunk of his increasingly valuable time.

But once he had control of this group, he could start sending people down there. He would tell them that this was so they could complete their Seeds… but at the same time, request that they gather crystals for him to collect. The Mask, sensing the faint emphasis he applied to request, eyed him suspiciously. Nicolai didn’t notice this, busy filling his imagination with bags of Oma crystals. Lots of bags.

His capabilities were expanding rapidly and he felt sure he would be able to find a way for them to send those crystals up past the guarding Wardens, especially if he could locate the Trade Link; something that, if his next immediate plan went well, he might be able to do this very day.

Not to mention that even in the short term they were literally a free source of points and Oma crystals via their uncompleted challenges.

His Mask was a big ball of discontent bobbing on the edge of his mind, one that had been swelling and swelling as it observed his train of thought with significant disapproval. It informed him that these plans were 100% not the kind of thing a normal human, or indeed a “better man,” would craft. It said that the whole reason to be with these people was to get better at not seeing other humans as disposable objects.

It said that therefore joining them was good simply because it was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To learn to be more human. To be less as he had once been. To do a little good. To be a better man.

Nicolai’s face twitched. That is something I said I wanted… within limits. Why can’t I do that, and also fulfil my other goals? They’re good plans. They’re logical plans. It’s not like I’ll be harming them. I’ll be helping them. Mostly. Well, except for Karl. Karl obviously had to go. He gave his Mask a mental stare, feeling that surely it would at least agree with him on that front. It returned only uncertain silence.

As Nicolai stood there, waiting for a response from the Mask, he remembered that one of them had spoken to him, and realised that a faintly awkward silence was stretching out. Azure was fidgeting under the empty gaze he’d been aiming at her.

Nicolai smiled, and spoke softly. His manner subtly altered; warmer, more inviting. ‘Soul Sense is something you are all capable of. You activate it through your Seed. I can show you all how, if you wish. But not now. The Chosen will be back.’ He raised his voice with these words. Time to force the matter. ‘I’m going to leave in a moment.’ He looked to John. ‘You have a decision to make.’ Nicolai knew what that decision would be.

John glanced at Karl and Ben. They were wearing uncertain frowns. He looked back to Nicolai. ‘We’ll stick with you.’ The big man nodded. ‘We can work together. Stronger as a group.’ He chewed at his lip, thoughtful, glancing at the others then back to Nicolai. ‘You’ve proven your good intentions with me, at least.’

John smiled, and Nicolai felt the shift within the man. John meant what he’d said. Mostly, anyway. The others saw it, too, and Nicolai spied a faint shifting of stances within the group, a few smiles. Something had changed, some kind of wall had been breached.

Nicolai smiled back at John. His Mask was suddenly happy, radiating and buzzing with it, and Nicolai basked in the fresh sensations. Is this what it feels like to be a good person? His smile grew. They were relaxing, and he saw some of their throats work as they split into little private conversations over Local.

Nicolai spied Perro, standing there wincing. His Mask twined over his face and abruptly Nicolai was moving. He tugged out the Orb of Rejuvenation he’d taken from the Chosen field leader as he stepped closer. He might have paused there, and vetoed his Mask, but the orb was practically empty anyway. ‘Here,’ he handed it to the youth. ‘For your leg, and a debt repaid.’ Oddly enough, Azure frowned and he felt disappointment and irritation from her, a kind of chagrin.

‘Thank you,’ Perro sucked in what was left in the Orb then gritted his teeth, shaking his leg.

‘Any better?’

‘Much,’ Perro smiled thankfully to him. In truth the boy looked to only be a little improved, but he made a brave face. At least he looked like he could probably walk unaided now.

‘What happened?’

‘He was digging in the tunnel when they blew the door open,’ Azure answered. ‘The shaking made it collapse a bit. Something crushed his leg. I got him out.’

Nicolai nodded. ‘Good effort.’ He clapped the youth gently on his shoulder and flashed a smile at Azure, guided by his Mask. Young people were often easier to win over, in his experience. Little words, little acts here and there. That was all it would take to bring them on side. And from there, who knew? Loyal little minions.

‘Thanks,’ Perro said, smiling, his back straightening with pride.

Nicolai then handed the SMG to Perro. ‘Hold on to this for me,’ he said, stepping away as Perro clutched it to him, eyes wide, confused. It was useless without bullets and Nicolai didn’t see any benefit to being weighed down by it, but in the event ammo was found he’d like it back and he knew Perro wouldn’t put up a fight when he asked for its return. John still held the other SMG Nicolai had found, and he doubted the man would give it up so easily.

That done he recalled the Seed he’d taken from the Chosen field leader. Now that his own was finished, he saw little value in holding onto the thing; but some value to be found in the giving of it.

‘Here, have this,’ he said to John, holding it out. The man blinked in surprise then took it. ‘No good to me,’ added Nicolai. ‘So give it to whoever you think should have it, or keep it yourself.’ He said these words quite loudly, and John glanced around, brows creasing as all of a sudden as numerous gazes settled on John and the Seed.

No matter what John did with the Seed, he would end up upsetting some others. Sowing a tiny bit of discord would be one of various acts which would help Nicolai in the future. Nicolai found these little games quite enjoyable. It was not dissimilar to a fight, though a much slower and subtler one.

John gave him a nod. ‘Later,’ he said, pocketing the Seed. ‘You said you know of a place we might be able to go?’

‘I have an idea. Have someone go get the other one, the radio man.’

He felt a brief flash of irritation from John, who didn’t reply, brows beetling, and Nicolai realised he’d phrased things badly. From what he was feeling, John wasn’t keen on following anything Nicolai said that sounded like an order, especially in front of the others, despite the recent softening in the man’s attitude.

Understandable, in Nicolai’s view. Stuff like that mattered. If you told people to do things, and they obeyed, then after long enough you were the leader. But Nicolai hadn’t quite built up enough social credit to start wresting control of the group from John. He had to lay the groundwork, first, and in the meantime he needed to be a little less forceful.

‘I meant to say, I think it’s worth bringing him with us.’ Nicolai shrugged. ‘Up to you.’

John’s big think came to an end. ‘We weren’t just going to leave him, anyway,’ he said, and gestured to Cait who went off with Karl.

Nicolai smiled with false thanks to John then returned to looting the nearest Chosen, stripping clothing and boots and utility-wear. Looking for items in his size.

‘Good clothes, here, and on them,’ he said to the others, indicating the dead Chosen on the ground. ‘Better than our rags.’ He eyed the pair of boots he’d just removed from a dead man’s feet, judging them to be of decent make and about his size, then set them to his side and kept scavenging.

Old Ben looked unhappy about this, but even Nicolai’s Mask couldn’t work out why. The old man kept his peace, nevertheless.

Nicolai kept going between the dead, his small pile growing, and then ventured out into the Gauntlet to pick over the last two corpses. Some of the others joined him after some time, seeing the benefits in good boots. He managed to find a shirt and light grey jacket in his size, a ratcheted synthetic belt, plus some brown cargo pants and a tactical vest with handy pockets, even a pair of synthetic merino socks. The socks were sweaty and smelly, the clothes bloodstained, but he wasn’t one to mind.

Nicolai quickly dressed himself and redistributed his things into his new pockets and the tactical vest’s compartments. The weight of the sawn-off on his hip was comforting, pleasant.

He then took a moment to return to his room in what had been his safe-place, and retrieved the longsword and spear he’d looted some time ago. However, he didn’t want to carry them himself so he gave both to the group, proffering them to any who wanted them, and in the end the older woman who clung tight to the little girl took the spear with a determined look, while Cait took the longsword, switching it out for the axe she’d held.

They gathered in the Gauntlet as Nicolai floated up into the crack, most just watching with interest. Azure stood out, wearing a jealous pout, her arms crossed.

###

When he emerged, Nicolai was carrying all his remaining things in his sack. This included Kleos, who hadn’t been happy about the sack but Nicolai had told him there wasn’t any choice.

He’d received a small shock upon lifting the cloth where he’d left the Hornet, only to find it gone. But a quick hunt with his Soul Sense had revealed it inside a place he supposed he should’ve suspected. It had found its way to the pouch full of honeycomb and was sleeping within, surrounded by the glistening, honey-drenched comb which showed signs of being nibbled on.

Kleos had said the bug had flown over there some time after Nicolai had left, and also said that he might as well leave it. Being surrounded by food would keep it relaxed and sleepy, less likely to react badly to being jostled while Nicolai carried it about.

Nicolai was happy with his outfit; the sheathed rapier, the small steel axe, pump-action on his back, the holstered sawn-off hanging from his belt. Oma crystals and points-tags had been distributed throughout his pockets, as he wanted to keep his valuables close to him. He had the green water bottle hanging from his shoulder. There were a number of knives in various locations on his body. The sack contained everything else and he carried it in one hand. The poncho covered it all, open at the front.

He emerged to find the others digging curiously through the remains of the huge skeleton creature, and he joined them, his Soul Sense moving through it in search of anything of interest. He was briefly hopeful that one of the weapons or armour pieces scattered amongst it might be Imbued, but there was no such luck and he turned away, moving to John.

‘Where now?’ asked John.

‘Toward the bridges. I’ve got an idea; we’ll see how it pans out.’

‘Alright.’ John gave him a firm nod, and Nicolai felt a kind of belief in the man, one that made his Mask happy. ‘Lead on.’

Nicolai found himself in a good mood as he moved on ahead of the others, his Soul Sense worming ahead of him.

He was very pleased with his progress, not just with the group but, more importantly, at improving his own capabilities. He figured he was ready to reclaim his polearm and was eager to do so. It did seem he might be moving beyond it a bit, certainly if he could find more ammo for the guns there wouldn’t be much need for it.

But he still felt it could be of use with its winds, and anyway, he just wanted it back. It was his polearm. He wanted to practise with it, to experience wielding the winds it created now he was a Cultivator in truth.

After moving through the living areas he saw a familiar tunnel up ahead, leading out, its end illuminated by sunlight. The place where he’d lost his polearm. Would the archers still remain in ambush, waiting for him? No way to know. He led the others past it, heading towards a different tunnel. The polearm would have to wait, for now. Time was pressing.

Reaching the next exit, Nicolai turned to the others. ‘You’ll all have to wait around here, only me and the prisoner head on.’

Confused faces looked back at him. ‘Why?’ asked John.

‘Let’s talk over here,’ Nicolai gestured John towards him, and once John had began moving Nicolai started moving away, leading John after him. Once far enough from the others Nicolai turned back to John and lowered his voice. ‘I’m going to need the prisoner. I have a plan to trade him for a safe place.’

‘What’s this plan?’

‘Do you trust me?’ Nicolai smiled at him.

John gave him a look, raised brows, seeming almost amused. He shrugged. ‘Somewhat.’

‘Then let me take the prisoner and I’ll find us a place,’ said Nicolai.

John frowned then, looking like he was debating whether or not to argue, struggling with his morals and his thoughts and his indecision.

‘Time is pressing,’ Nicolai urged. ‘We’re in danger out here.’

‘Alright.’ John’s will folded, and he let out a little puff of air. ‘Take him.’

They headed over to the others and Nicolai grabbed the prisoner. ‘We’re letting you go!’ he said with a grin. ‘Come on!’ He started pulling the man away.

Old Ben immediately started up but John got there, hands working placatingly, telling him and the others it was all fine, part of the plan. Why they had any concern about a man who’d betrayed them, Nicolai couldn’t say.

‘For real?’ The prisoner was staring at him, emanating a mixture of hope and fear. Mostly fear.

‘For real.’ Nicolai nodded and smiled, pressing a button in a nearby wall which opened a hidden door. There were some stairs within, and he directed the prisoner down them. His Mask started faintly burbling but Nicolai muted it; not interested. It was important to know when something simply had to be done.

‘No hard feelings, eh?’ he said to the prisoner, conversational. ‘Go join the Chosen, let them know we want to be friends, and, here.’ He tugged out a small pouch of Oma crystals as they moved, pressing it into the man’s limp grasp. ‘Tell Vikrum this is a gift.’

They were at the bottom of the stairs now, heading towards the nearest bridge entrance. Nicolai had learned of this route from the map shared by the fat Chosen he and Johan had killed.

He gave the prisoner a shove towards the light at the end of the tunnel. ‘Go on,’ he said, waving him on. ‘Freedom beckons.’

The man stumbled forward, cast a confused glance over his shoulder, then started running, gaining speed. In only moments he was bursting out of the exit and onto the bridge. He’d clearly decided not to argue with whatever mad flight of fancy he presumed Nicolai to be experiencing. Nicolai guessed this guy didn’t spend much time listening to Maxine’s broadcast on Radio Two, or he might have understood.

Nicolai watched him go, still and quiet, observing the bob of the man’s head.

The man was halfway across when there came a spray of red and his body tumbled forward, contorting, skidding over the bridge, collapsing into an ugly pile. The savage crack of a gunshot arrived at almost the same moment, bouncing off the walls of the tunnel. Nicolai moved backwards to get himself around a corner then his head popped out and he watched, waiting.

Nicolai pulled back when he saw a flicker of movement out there on the bridge—something moving through the air—and he activated his poncho. It now had less than twenty percent battery, but that should be enough to get through what he had in mind. Peering at the moving thing, he recognised it as the same drone he’d seen quite some time ago.

The drone operated by the sniper.

It was a decent drone, the type to have a thermal camera, but not the excessively equipped scan-type the Chosen who’d come after him and Johan had possessed. Nicolai ducked away and activated his poncho’s anti-thermal measures, waiting as his cloak cooled itself to a temperature which would allow him to blend in with the stone around him.

Once the poncho completed the process he walked out across the bridge, moving slowly to avoid the tell-tale shimmer, keeping low so that the drones thermal vision would see him as part of the stone he crossed over.

He wasn’t far from the man when there came movement from the other side and he stilled, watching, as someone came jogging out. It was a woman he recognised, with a rifle slung over her shoulder. Her drone was flitting around up above. Checking for the very ambush she’d just walked into.

She dug around on the corpse just a few metres from him, retrieving the man’s Seed and the pouch of Oma crystals. She let out a little noise upon finding them. His Mask told him it was a sound of relief. Nicolai kept his Soul Sense away from her, wary of tipping her off if she happened to have a Seed and more experience with Soul Sense than the group. So far as he could tell she wasn’t a cultivator, which came as a relief; otherwise she might’ve been able to see his Soul Sense regardless.

She cast a wary glance around then rose and started away.

Nicolai followed.