The World Which Is

I can’t say that Detroit snuck up on us. It’s tough for something as large as a city to hide itself. But when I first see it, it isn’t what I expect.

Nothing much happens over the ten days it took to reach where I can see something of the city. Blocking, perception, archery, quick-nocking and Meteorology all went up a level, and tracking went up two.

There was one blow up between Helen and Brandon, but they took the argument away before I could get in the middle of it. They didn’t say anything to each other during the rest of the trek.

The reason I want to say Detroit snuck up on us is that it doesn’t look like what I think a city should look like. Okay, even after Toronto, I was still expecting walls. But even forcing myself to remove that from my expectations, what I’m looking at doesn’t say city to me.

Ruin? maybe.

There are no fields between us and the buildings in the distance for a start. I don’t care how efficient a city is. A need for food is a constant, and producing what you can is better than buying it. I didn’t see all of it, but Herbert told me how Toronto is surrounded by farms producing the food they need.

The biggest fight within Court, from what Base told me, was when the town had to expand and push away the farmers to make space. It’s why they are far enough now, there’s room for a few expansions. No one alive then wants to deal with a repeat of that fight.

But here? The ground is patches of dirt and brown grass. The few trees are sickly; thin with leaves that barely qualify as green.

“What happened here?” Silver asks in disgusted awe.

“Detroit,” Brandon answered, a bundle of fabric appearing in his hand. “Put that on, Dennis.”

It unfurls into a dirty, ripped, and smelly cloak when I take it.

“Do I have to?”

“We don’t know who’s seen your image by now.”

“We could have beaten that here,” Helen says, “if you hadn’t wasted so much time.”

He whirls on her, hand in a fist. I can see how fed up he is in how it shakes. But he whirls back before I have to intervene. The look he gives me says he does that for me more than for her. I can’t imagine what’s going on between them that he’s ready to come to blows.

The look she gives me as a sense of ‘are you going to let him get away with this’ and I have to bury my annoyance at both of them. This is way beyond sibling animosity.

But hopefully it’s something they can deal with, because I can see it being a major problem down the line.

“Do you have one that doesn’t…smell so much?” I ask when Brandon’s breathing settles.

He shakes his head. “The point is to blend in as much as possible. It’s less important for us, since it’s just your image that’s been distributed, and we all look travel wary, but you need to hide your face, and in the parts of Detroit we’re going to walk through, nice clothing is just asking to be mugged. If you have clothing you didn’t get a chance to clean, now is the time to equip it. Even you, Hel—”

He grinds his teeth and takes a breath. “Helen, if you have something more common folks, now would be the time to equip that.”

Or course, he concludes that display of self control with a glance in my direction for approval.

What is he? Six?

I equip the cloak and wrinkle my nose. I so don’t want to pull the hood up.

Silver’s now wearing old travel clothes and her hair is tied back with twine. Her violin case is in her inventory. Helen’s clothes… she certainly looks annoyed enough in them to tell me they aren’t her best, but other than slightly dirty, she is the best dressed of us.

Brandon doesn’t change anything about what he’s wearing, but his pants are already not in great conditions, and I think that’s the shirt he’s had on for the last four days.

I’d say he’s been planning for this for a while, but other than dunking his clothes in lakes and streams we’ve come across, he hasn’t been doing much to clean them.

When Brandon starts for the buildings, Silver points to the line of wagons in the distance. “Shouldn’t we go in through the city’s entrance?”

“The city doesn’t have one. That’s just the road in. There aren’t any guards or duty collectors or anything else you think of when you think of a city.”

“Doesn’t settlements need those things for the system to register them as cities?” I point out. With Grandpa Louis the base commander, he’s always aware of where Court stands with the system in relation to its growth. Guards are at the top of the list, from his point of view.

“It meets the minimum requirements,” Brandon answers. “Otherwise, Detroit wouldn’t be a city. But having the guards doesn’t mean the city has to do anything with them.”

“No, they do. Settlements don’t just need numbers, they need things to happen. There needs to be patrols, specific production numbers.”

Brandon looks at me in surprise.

“I told you. My grand father is in charge of Base. That means that anytime things aren’t going to the mayor’s liking on that side, he’s complaining about it to him as if Grandpa Louis can do anything about it.”

“Can’t he?” Silver asks. “If he’s a base commander, doesn’t that put him in charge of the settlement?”

“It’s not that straightforward,” I reply. “Base is military. As such, he isn’t a settlement the way Toronto or Detroit are. The only reason Court was able to become a town is that by the time Grandpa Louis, Base and everyone who traveled with them settled where Court is, there was such a variety of people and jobs it opened a section they weren’t aware was there. Basically, the part that runs a city. Grandpa Louis ran that at first, but he didn’t want the job, so when they found out they could divorce Base from that, he made it happen. They elected a mayor and they’ve been handling that side. Until things aren’t their liking,” I add, and can’t help mimicking Grandpa Louis’s grumbling. “Then, it like he never handed off the position, and he’s supposed to fix everything for them.”

“I’m surprised you know about bases and their commanders,” Brandon tells Silver.

“There’s a military compound a couple of hours outside Montreal. As part of my bard training, I performed there and got to see some of how it works. It’s very different from the city. More regimented.”

“The military had to be,” Brandon says.

“But Base doesn’t do that,” I add before Silver can question that. “He and Grandpa Louis don’t go into details about it. I know he is a military node, I know Grandpa Louis and him met in Houston, that he was forced to become the commander. They didn’t speak about the people who had the compound, but I got the sense they weren’t nice.”

“Forcing someone to do something against his will isn’t something nice people do,” Helen says.

“The only aspect of the military side Base deals with, is last lines of defense during monster waves, and providing shelter for the town’s people while they are going on. He hasn’t had to act in defense of Court in…well before I was born.”

“You keep saying ‘he’ when you talk about the node,” Silver says.

I shrug. “Base is a person. I don’t know the details. But he’s family. He and Grandpa Louis act more like they’re brothers than commander and subordinate. And yes, Base considers himself a guy. When I ask him why, when I was a kid, he told me that wasn’t a polite question to ask and I haven’t bothered asking again. I mean, does it matter? Like I said. He’s family. Who cares what he is?”

“Are all military nodes like that?” Silver asks.

I shrug. “I only know Base. And they never talked about encountering another military node, so I can’t tell you.”

You have discovered a Settlement: Detroit, City.

You have explored 0% of Detroit

I dismiss the message and look at the dilapidated buildings ahead of us.

“Remember everyone,” Brandon says. “Detroit is probably the worse place you will ever set foot in. Keep all your valuables in your inventory. Don’t look at anyone. Don’t let them look at you, and,” he looks at me, “for the system’s sake. Don’t go off running just because someone’s screaming bloody murder.”