Chapter 31: Chapter 29

I sighed. Of course. The ravens. It clicked in that moment. The ravens were pissed at me because Mr. Sada activated the MortBlock and cut off their regular scavenging grounds. These were our normal unkindness of campground ravens, but now they were using an interdimensional store. 

Look it up, that’s what they’re called when they’re in a group. An unkindness. Tells you a lot. Somehow our unkindness of ravens got it in their head that this was my doing.

The thought of aggressive ravens with solid Mortie funding under them crossed my mind, but I waved it away. I simply had to hope that the bodies would buy us some time, as I had no idea what to do about the ravens otherwise. 

All I could think to do about it was warn Rayna, which I did. She looked at me funny but nodded. I asked her not to shoot them, but to be careful and note any strange or aggressive behavior. 

Best not to tip off a war. 

I’d thrown a rock at one of these birds a single time back in my first days here, and they dropped rocks on my head for over a year. It only stopped when I started feeding them home-made suet cake semi-regularly and leaving them alone to pick through the campsites before I cleaned them after a guest left. Our arrangement was up for renegotiation, I supposed.

It wasn’t great to lose the morties from the bodies, but at least BlueCleave had looted them already. I had noticed some of them wore new armor and carried new weapons back at Mr. Sada’s compound. That was encouraging. This seemed to have been a very lucrative contract for them already, and now the chance to put down roots seemed attractive, since Rayna was convinced we had the financial means. 

As soon as we arrived she called all her people together to speak with them. After a few short sentences in their own language, a variety of reactions occurred. More than one of them openly cheered or raised a fist in excitement. Several seemed anxious about the idea, and more than one just didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

I noticed my helmet on the shelf beside the charger where I had left it and grabbed it, heading outside to talk to Tollya. She had been one of the hobbs that openly cheered. I offered the helmet as I approached and smiled at her. “Hey Tollya, I wanted to say sorry for last night. I wasn’t paying attention when I bought this and didn’t realize it was from your wish list. I’d like you to have it, you earned it.”

“Had this boss before.” She started, approaching uneasily. Now that I looked at her close up, I could see how different her facial features were compared to the other hobbs. She was almost cute, in a Tank Girl kind of way. They each had differences in their appearance, they were just difficult to see without practice. “Bought vest, bought this vest.” She thumped her breastplate. “To disrespect me. He mocked us for wanting improvement.”

I nodded. “I understand what you must have thought. I’m not like that, and I will find a different helmet for myself. Thank you for your help last night.”

She blinked at that. It kept surprising the hobbs when I thanked them, and that was starting to bum me out. Tollya took the helmet and nodded slowly at me. She opened it as wide as it would go and tried to put it on, but the opening was far too small. “I get adjusted. Upgrades too. Thank you, boss.”

I nodded and wondered what it would take to get them to just call me Tyson. Tollya was already walking away, looking at the helmet in her hand and smiling. I counted this one as a win and headed to the next big crisis item on my list. The basement door was locked, thankfully, and when I opened it, Hord challenged me from the bottom of the stairs. “Who there?”

“Just me, Hord.” I spoke as I descended the stairs and ducked to see the construction. The gobbs were audible from the kitchen, slopping mud-crete everywhere and affixing a sealed steel hatch. The construction was simple. It would open, but only slowly and with great physical effort, by removing its own hinge pin, which was external. 

I rolled my eyes, but Hord assured me it would work to keep the Sleem out. From this one portal in and out of their base. Who knew how many of them they had? I would need to talk to Molls again. Her help would be needed setting up a BuyMort affiliate anyway, so she jumped up to the top of the list of people I wanted to talk to.

 Thankfully, Molls was a late riser and was still around. When I lowered the attic steps, I heard her rustling movement at the end of plywood hallway. I climbed the stairs and approached cautiously, with my eyes averted. Just in case.

“Molls?” I asked, one hand covering my eyes. “Are you decent?”

I heard her faint giggle and peeked between my fingers. She was indeed decent, with only her sleepy face poking out from the mountain of blankets heaped on the floor. Sunlight poured in from the window and glittered from the scales inside her hood. She was smiling at me with lidded eyes, and I understood the dreams better in that moment. “Yes, Tyson.” A delicate hand raised from the blankets and stifled a short yawn, as she did her best to contain it for her company. “Sorry, it was a late night.”

The smile that planted itself on my face was natural, and I approached with a nod as she undulated and stretched in the sunlight. She finished the stretch by gripping the blanket in either hand and rolling her back muscles. This had the effect of pushing out her chest, which I quickly attempted to look away from. It was stuff like that driving the dreams, I knew it. “No! I apologize for disturbing you. We were hoping to get a consult about setting up an affiliate for Happy Trails is all.”

Her eyes snapped open. “We? I won’t have that man in my presence.”

“Yeah, I really don’t blame you. Wanna just run me through it instead?” I shrugged and motioned toward the blanket. She immediately shuffled her coils aside for me, and I sat down. The area smelled like her, clean and now faintly floral, and the more the blankets around me moved, the more her wonderful scent filled my breath. A small thought at the back of my head warned me about the infatuation that was already growing, but I very neatly ignored it, as we tend to do with such things.

Molls smiled and nodded, snuggling her blankets close again. “Yes, that sounds good. What would you like to know?”

“I want to know about affiliates.”

Her eyes widened and this time they glistened. It reminded me of those early morning TV shows where the guy would see the light and then choirs full of robed people would swing their arms about and scream to the heavens in the best darn voices on the planet. I tensed, ready for some full-throttle evangelism.

She smiled at me softly. “You would like to learn the mysteries of joining with BuyMort?”

I sighed and she frowned, blinking. “Yes, sorry, yes I would. I’m just a little nervous. Please teach me how to do this better.” I swung my arms around to take in the whole campground. “All of this. How do we make this into an affiliate? What does the affiliate do for us? I see it mentioned so often that it must be helpful, right?”

Molls laughed, her sharp white teeth flashing. “If I tell you everything about everything, you will be too old to start an affiliate by the time we finish, Tyson! But thank you for turning to me and allowing me to invest in you. On some of these new worlds people turn away from BuyMort even though BuyMort is them, always there and always watching and asking to help.” She made a sign over her chest which in turn brought my eyes to her cleavage and made me blush. I returned them to her face, fully-engaging in her animated lecture.

“Affiliates are an extension of BuyMort’s love. They exist as a blessing by BuyMort to give us more control over the prices at which we sell our products or services. Without an affiliate, BuyMort will purchase anything one sells at market rate. But when you allow it into your heart, and when you agree to the holy tithe, BuyMort will give you the power to set your own prices!”

I felt a wave of anger sweep over me but managed to keep my face interested. How dare this thing take away so much of our freedom and then sell it back to us? I nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“BuyMort is unbiased completely, and all have the opportunity to set themselves up as a BuyMort Affiliate. These Affiliate levels rank from the novice, level one, and they extend to the very holiest of us all, the Church at level one-hundred. Every holy level comes with a monthly tithe as well as perks and benefits. BuyMort awards those who show their ability and faith.”

I peered closely into her eyes. She hadn’t lived in a time or place without BuyMort. She didn’t get it. Her face glowed with her love and reverence. I stopped my nodding.

“These tithes. How much are they? What do I pay exactly? And what are these benefits and perks?”

You are reading story BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit at novel35.com

“A thousand to start. Less when BuyMort anoints you. More if you have been foolish with debt. The Credit Score is holy, and it has a lot to do with what BuyMort will bestow upon you. A smart shopper can be blessed with great profits, tremendous market access, even blessings upon market operations. A smart shopper can achieve the Infinite Balance!”

Molls sighed those last words and I shivered. I didn’t like to see her like this. “A thousand to start. Okay. Not so bad. So I pay the monthly fee —”

“Tithe,” she interrupted, her eyes wide as if I’d just drop-kicked a puppy.

“Tithe,” I corrected, “and that’s that?”

“As a level one affiliate you will be an Independent Contractor. This affiliation allows for just one single user. You may choose the sales price for affiliate items and attempt to sell them to others through the BuyMort app in exchange for the holy 30% transaction fee. At this level you are still unproven so you, the affiliate, are only able to sell services or items to beings within this same dimension. But I wouldn’t feel worried,” she assured him. “I can sense that you will be a smart shopper. I believe that BuyMort will favor you often, and I foresee you basking in its graces.”

I have to admit, I felt a little bit of pride at her words. Her confidence felt like a warm blanket over my shoulders after a night of trudging through driving snow. It was the right kind of warm for my otherwise incredulous and angry heart. I softened a bit. This was the world now and none of it was her fault.

“What about the other levels? What are those about?”

Molls locked eyes with me, searching. “There are many levels of divinity. But to learn them all, now, might be disheartening. The numbers involved are vast and I seek not to turn your heart away in sorrow. There will be better and more capable days, and we can worry over them then. Do you understand?”

I nodded, though it was a lie. I didn’t need to understand. Not if Molls stayed by my side.

“The second level is the Premium Contractor. In addition to the blessings of the previous level, this affiliation allows the anointed to set up their own customized affiliation page with which to gain followers and to create a landing page to inspire brand loyalty.”

I saw immediately a number of ways in which this could benefit us. “And how much is that?”

Her eyes fluttered. “Be patient, Tyson. The ways of BuyMort require it. It is always best to wait until BuyMort recommends you to the next level. To buy into a level without recommendation is a sin, one that requires a large sum to enact.”

Molls squeezed my hands and gave me a quirky one-sided grin, shifting in her seat and bending forward to whisper in my ear. “If you wanted to cheat, the start-up fee is usually times ten of the tithe, and the start-up fee doubles for every level purchased. I suppose there really is no harm in it if BuyMort condones the sin after extracting divine penalty. It just doesn’t seem like a wise thing to do and I would be quite disappointed to see you act as anything less than a smart shopper.”

“Scout’s honor, I’ll shop smart,” I laughed. Her breath had given me shivers and to be honest I’d do just about anything she wanted at that moment. We both shared a quiet moment while I tried to slow my heart and get my mind back to the task at hand. “So, how many levels should I ask about?”

She looked surprised, as if she herself had been lost for a moment. “How many levels? Oh, yes, in BuyMort. As you gain divinity and rise, a beacon of commerce and freedom in this dark multiverse, you will receive many blessings. At level three you become a Business Contractor, allowing for up to five additional specialist roles to be added to your account. These are specialty roles that have access to the account in various ways, are useful for many tasks, and at higher levels roles may be given enhancement in other ways. At fourth level you will be a Commerce Contractor, and BuyMort will bestow upon you the ability to choose a divine perk. And at fifth level you will be a Corporate Contractor, gaining affiliate access to multidimensional commercial sales at a sixty percent tithe to BuyMort. Is that enough levels?” she asked. The tip of her tail absentmindedly curled around my ankle.

“Thank you, Molls. I promise I will use your wisdom to best serve us all,” I told her and she positively gleamed before sticking out her hand with her palms out. I put mine in hers.

“BuyMort is pleased in your inquiry, and the church is delighted that you have come to join us all in affiliated glory. I am so happy that I was able to give you your free trial session and now the church needs to know if you wish to continue to use our services. In addition to helpful advice from myself, this service will keep me on as your spiritual advisor into the great wide market,” Molls preached, her voice sing-song and dreamy. She sighed. “And it shall only ask for a mere ten percent tithe of your BuyMort bestowed profits. I’m pleased that you’ve come so far, to become an affiliate already. This is a joyous day.”

I stared, feeling cheated. I knew it was coming, I had to. Of course there was a bottom line to be tended to, but the thing that surprised me in that moment was how much it hurt coming from Molls. I needed to get away. And I needed Molls to stay.

“Yes,” I croaked. “I’ll have to talk to Mr. Sada, but yes.” I fidgeted at my knees and blinked rapidly. “I should do that. Now”

Molls broke from her reverie and her eyes gleamed, serpentine pupils dilating and fixated on him. “Are you ill?” she asked, rising up, concern lacing her voice.

I hesitated, but then rose to my feet with a nod. “Sort of. I just need to go deal with Mr. Sada. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, her face a strange mask that I couldn’t read. Which was fine. I just needed a breather. This damn system. I sighed and shook my head.

I excused myself a second time and went away, compulsively apologizing. Molls went quiet when I did that, but I cast aside the line of thought. I had to deal with my MortMobile account before Mr. Sada. Needed to come down from this a little before I talked to him. My account was all set up already but now I was realizing that, like smartphones from before BuyMort, my subscription was full of services that I hadn’t paid any attention to. Services that, in this new world, might well save the lives of myself and everyone around me.

Walking past several hobbs, I exited Mr. Sada’s compound and pulled my phone out. “Alright, MortMobile, I want to know exactly what stuff I can do with you and how much it will cost.” I stopped, realizing that my nerves had me a bit high-strung. All of this talk about freedom had pissed me off, I realized, since really BuyMort had taken everything away, packaged it, and was selling it back to us all with its made-up money. “Look, sorry. I’m just feeling a little rough around the edges,” I explained.

The floating head squinted, a strange look I hadn’t seen before, then nodded. “Hairless apes anger easily, as I have learned over the last few hundred millennia. Irrational, tribal, violent. A fondness for artificial empathy mixed in with ruthless self-interest. Why should you be any different?”

The words stung, to be honest. I couldn’t exactly disagree. It was like he’d been exposed to the worst of us for so long it became boring to him. Merely something he expected. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Let me try again. I’d like to understand more about you, MortMobile, and the ways in which you might help me.”

He gave me that squint again and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking? Was he just reading my thoughts, or was it more than that? Something deeper? An understanding of self I couldn’t achieve without an external and internal view? I’d have to figure it all out later.

“I offer a number of services that might be of great interest to you. Each of them comes with a trial version that costs little but only lasts for a few days. Each of them also comes with a price tag that is unknown until the end of your first month. By that I mean, there is a set price, but with the additional fees that they levy, and the transactional nature of some services, you really never know what you are going to pay after you agree to the terms and conditions until the bill comes due.”

It sucked that the apocalypse was so earth-breakingly different and yet so eerily the same. The nature of this service was immediately familiar, as was the predatory pricing, and the combination drew a sigh from me that rivaled the deity in my phone’s sighs. I shot the face a thumbs-up when I noticed him glaring at me. “Yeah, alright. Show me what you’ve got.”

And I sucked in my breath as I gazed into infinity.

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