Chapter 19: Branch 3: The Club

Day 7 - Night

Fort Matthew - The Condos

South of Matthew Plaza and Town Hall, are The Condos. Where some members of New Amster City's former upper class, often called "the Club," have moved. It is a well defended complex with its own walls and guards.

Five five-story art deco style granite residential buildings are within the compound. Condominiums. According to the system, the first floor has common spaces and security. While the 2nd through 5th have one family per floor.

That's a lot of elbow room.

There's a sixth building in the complex that's only two stories high. And while it shares the art deco architecture, there are no residences within. In the center of this bunker is a chamber protected by multiple walls, barriers and wards.

Here twenty-four men and women sit in comfortable leather chairs on a persian carpet. Smoking cigars, cigarettes with holders and pipes while drinking cognac, vodka, whiskey, tequila and cocktails. Softly lit by standing lamps and hanging chandeliers.

Allen Burlton III, a thin old and frail looking man but with very sharp eyes, angrily asks. "What the hell happened?"

"Exactly what he said would happen." Antonio Estan de la Romano, the most interesting man in the world, calmly replies.

An older woman with a white perm, Jolien van der Vorm, continues.  "Did he really just create a government over lunch?"

"Oui." Answers Daniele la Croix, the redheaded Mesmerist.

A bald black man, Bentram Harper, with a pornstache wonders. "How bad is it?"

"Not terrible, we received the Housing, Finance, and Transportation departments." States Archibald Collins, Snooty McSnootyface.

Another patriarch speaks. "Still leaves us vulnerable without Defense, Police, or Justice."

"Testing his resolve was a mistake." The most interesting man in the world comments.

White perm rebuts. "His profile said it would work."

"Sacré bleu." Daniele quips. "A profile done before Ms Houghton's betrayal was, eh, révélé. Avant qu'il ne meure."

A regretful woman, Eden Houghton, mourns. "We should have rescued her sooner."

"No, we should have killed the Grant family's bastard sooner." Answers the pornstache. 

Old sharp eyes. "Actually both. But we are far too late now."

"The plan is no longer tenable." States Mrs van der Vorm.

Snooty harrumphs. "It will need to be… adjusted. Yet it is still feasible."

"El rey has the same goal. Securing the city." Adds Antonio.

Allen the 3rd raises an eyebrow. "The king?"

"Realpolitik." Replies the Mesmerist. 

"How is she?" A matriarch asks the regretful woman.

"Who?" Mr Collins asks.

Bentram snorts. "Beauty and the Beast."

"Ah, though I suspect the roles have reversed." Archibald snarks. "Per Ms Weizmann's report, Ms Houghton appears to be the Beast now."

Dame Houghton glares at Snooty. "Watch your tongue. She is still my daughter."

"Do not refer to Mr McConnell by that label again." A new elder, Harold Whittemore Sr, interrupts them. "It was humorous when they were just students and the pairing was… unsuitable." Puffs a corn cob pipe. "Louis McConnell is now one of the strongest beings in the city. Perhaps the continent."

Mr Harper turns to the redhead. "Your abilities had no effect at all?"

"Oui." A sip of cognac. "Psychics feel minds. Mais son? An abyss." Ms la Croix shudders. "Un océan with no bottom. Une montagne with no top." Another drink. "Nom de dieu. That was no boy."

"Mi amiga, does it matter?" Asks Mr de la Romano.

Mr Burlton scoffs. "It does not. Whether this John Barton was Louis McConnell or has somehow replaced him." Puffs on a cigar. "Everyone's fallen into line. Those that didn't are dead."

"General Grant will demand blood." White perm mentions.

Pornstache scowls. "Good. He is already our enemy. Hopefully, King John the First will crush him and his juicer army."

"A king?" Sharp eyes rolls his. "Complete nonsense. But I am intrigued by this new government. Tell me more about it."

The most interesting man in the world shrugs. "You saw the podcasts. What is there to add? No mucho. He announced fourteen departments today." Picks up a notepad. "Primero, the Royal Department handles the king plus any future familia. And considering the size of his harem? It will grow rápido."

"A harem? The Louis I knew only loved one girl." Regretful woman grimaces.

McSnootyface snorts. "And she betrayed him in every imaginable way." Ignores her glare. "No surprise he chose to spread his royal oats instead."

"It's simple numbers." Bentram sighs. "Despite gender equality, social biases remain. In the enclaves more men are dying than women. Causing a gender imbalance. So more girls are willing to share a strong man." Swirls his glass. "If he keeps them safe and fed."

Jolien scowls. "And you would know, wouldn't you?"

"Stop." A raised hand. "We are not having this debate again." Allen Burlton III turns to the White Mexican. "Antonio, please continue."

"Sí Señor. He also proclaimed the Administration Department. This will include the legislature and our best route to influence the government." Smiles. "Politicians are always for sale."

Whittemore Sr. "Will he really permit elections?"

“His majesty has not provided a date for elections nor other details about the legislature.” Replies Causette Guertin, the only female member present who is younger than Ms la Croix.

A patriarch wonders. "Are any enclaves democracies?"

"On radio some more distant operators claim theirs are." Another matriarch answers. "But all verified pockets of humanity are dominated by strongmen."

Antonio speaks again. "The Dungeon Department is interesting. Coordinating the control and harvesting of portal dungeons. An adventurer we have a relationship with was made director.”

"Already seeing these bringers of disaster as a resource as much as a threat." Another patriarch muses. "The king is either very forward thinking, or very well informed."

Mr Harper speaks. "It is believed that at least one system building manager, perhaps the guild manager, has been sharing restricted information with him."

“We should be careful.” Daniele mentions. “King John will not hesitate to turn on us if we go too far.”

Allen III nods. “The wording he used with you made it clear. Stay out his way.” Lifts his glass. “So we will. Nothing… overt. Build relationships. Spread influence.” Smirks. “Business as usual.”

Snickers from several elders.

“We walked around el edificio and noted down all the departments and offices.” Mr de la Romano tears a sheet of paper out of his notepad and hands it to a server. “Spatial magic is now being used so the building is bigger on the inside.”

Mr Burlton clicks his tongue. “Tch. Just how rich is he? Even our most generous estimates were proved wrong when he paid for a ten meter high wall nine kilometers long.” Accepts the paper from the server.

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“If this Mr Barton is really a different person?” Mr Whittemore taps his corn cob pipe. “Who knows how many resources he’s added to the vault Mr McConnell already had?”

Jeremiah Weizmann, an old heavier set bearded man comments. “You should have put up a bigger fight for Labor.”

“We could not know the king would put most of the economy under it.” Antonio Estan de la Romano defends himself. “Its new director is a socialist radical. He may not last long.”

Mr Weizmann isn’t having it. “We could have if we gave him a woman like I recommended.” Slugs some vodka. “Instead of missing these opportunities.” Glares at Mr Burlton. “Because some hoped he would forgive a harlot.”

“Yes, you were right.” Sharp eyes raises a hand to stop Cynthia’s mother from saying something she shouldn’t. “And I was wrong.” Puffs on a cigar. “Blame assigned. Now why don’t we move on.”

Heavy beard shakes his head. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Surprising Allen.

Jeremiah isn’t backing down. “Until we have family in his majesty’s bed? We are blind.” Crosses his arms. “I have already spoken with my niece, Elisheva. She is willing to give him her virginity.”

“After what he let happen to my Cynthia?!” Eden Houghton springs to her feet and shouts. “You would give him more victims?!”

Jolien van der Vorm calmly stands, walks over and hugs the distraught regretful woman. “Stop, please. You know I love you, right?” Eden nods. “Come, we’ll go get some air, alright?” Trembles but nods again.

Everyone remains quiet as the two women walk out. Guards opening and then closing a side door for them.

Archibald snorts. "Still can't believe they made abstinence their relationship's requirement." Chuckles. "I would have pumped and dumped her within a week." Notices the glares from several women. "What?"

"Watch your mouth." Pornstache grunts. "Junior members should know better than to poke a hornet's nest."

Sharp eyes agrees. "They made mistakes. Stupid mistakes." Rolls his cigar. "So now that Chimney Sweep has a harem and owns the safest enclave in the city. While the Houghtons have been humiliated and are laughed at behind their backs."

Another pause as many ponder the Houghton's fall from grace.

"Well?" Jeremiah Weizmann demands.

Mr Burlton sighs. "Any opposed?" No one speaks. "The motion is carried." Taps his glass on the end table. "Look for eligible girls in your families." Eyes pan across the room. "Be warned. His new lovers say he has incredible stamina and zero interest in romance."

"What do you mean?" Another matriarch asks.

Mr Harper chimes in. "A harem is an environment that revolves around its male ruler. And Mr Barton's is hypersexualized." A swig of whiskey. "Any candidates will be up against sexually experienced rankers. All competing for his attention and… seed."

Bentram feels uncomfortable under the scowls of several women.

"So send fighters." But Mr Weizmann doesn't. "Leave the dainty debutantes waiting to be swept off their feet in their powder rooms."

Another matriarch squints at him suspiciously. "Is this really necessary?"

The beard growls back. "Is money necessary?" That gets everyone's attention. "You know how much we've lost. How much of our wealth vanished when the governments, banks and markets collapsed." A lot of awkward looks. "And then discovering that what was left?" Sighs. "Gold is just another metal when you have a galaxy of it."

Sharp eyes puffs on an increasingly rare cuban cigar. "We already know this."

"Then why aren't we acting like it!" Jeremiah roars, spilling his drink. "We came here for the goldmine that controlling a safe bastion could be. Instead we were outbid by an alien goddess and then the puppets we were counting on got themselves slaughtered!"

Pornstache does not like being reminded of their weakness. "Your point?"

"That one goldmine is gone." Snaps his finger. "But that royal bastard brought us two more."

A guard walks into the center of the room and holds up… a gun?

Firearms are something even the most passive Club members have become very familiar with over the last month. And now there's mandatory daily training. But this one looks odd.

The guard walks slowly around the room. Letting each occupied seat examine it more closely.

The most interesting man in the world comments. "Sí, this is one of those new magearms."

Allen Burlton III raises an eyebrow. "That auction at the adventurers guild?"

"Yes." Jeremiah Weizmann nods. "An acquaintance bought a couple and wanted to know if he could get them cheaper through us."

Harold Whittemore Sr punctures the pregnant pause. "And?"

"No." The beard shakes its head. "My best men have been examining them. These are like nothing on Earth and they're not in the system store." Accepts a new drink. "But they can tell it was made very recently. Practically brand new. And his royalness has hundreds of them."

A humbled Archibald Collins asks. "Are they as good as we've heard?"

"According to our scientists? Yes." A large screen on one wall lights up. "These are videos of the more powerful models he and his personal guard carry." Short video clips of them firing. "That assault rifle took down the sheriff's personal energy barrier in three shots."

The room suddenly gets very quiet as the zoomed in and slowed down video of the event plays. Several worriedly eye the similar but weaker devices they carry. Jeremiah lets that sink in before continuing. 

"And according to one of his guards? Those bullets? Are in 3rd place, firepower wise, among his small arms." The video changes again. This time to an aerial view of ruined apartment buildings somewhere in the city. "These weapons are a goldmine. And this is where they are made."

The scene earns the Weizmann family's patriarch a stinging rebuke.

"You used a drone?!" Allen interrogates. "Do you know how few are-" Before he can finish the image shakes and shows only a blur of feathers and claws before going black. "We cannot squander irreplaceable hardware." Is growled.

Mr Weizmann smugly replies. "It was worth it."

Bald Bentram smirks. "To find a factory we can't risk attacking?"

The beard smiles. "Oh, no. We would be slaughtered by the king's army."

Snooty inquires. "Army, what army?"

The clip repeats, slows, and zooms in. Showing a metal egg with four legs and one eye. Shredding several charging orcs with two internally mounted machine guns. Another shoots down avian creatures trying to fly past. Panning around reveals dozens of identical machines. 

"That army. That robot army." The picture changes to show Louis McConnell's school transcripts. "Our king was considered a genius in a number of fields. Including?"

Sharp eyes smiles as he answers. "Robotics. I'll be damned."

Jeremiah shouts triumphantly. "That's our second goldmine! Armed robots." The image changes again to show three structures. "These buildings were bought yesterday and finished constructing themselves a few hours ago. A recycling plant, foundry and… factory." Sees the greedy looks. "Yes, he's going to build them here."

Pornstache Harper whistles. "If we could subcontract, contract, maybe even license?"

Beard Weizmann answers rapturously. "The touch of Midas."

"What do we need to do?" Corn Cob Whittemore stares at the screen, hard.

Mr Weizman knows he's won. "He's a king, but he's also a teenager." Leers. "So give him all the girls he can handle." Grins. "He wants an army. So give him one." Finger combs his beard. "Use our contacts to recruit. Also send our own." Holds up his glass. "He wants to be a king? We'll make him an emperor."

A matriarch sounds almost wistful. "And our companies will reap the rewards."

Mr Burlton looks thoughtful for a moment before holding up his glass.

"Any opposed?"

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