BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit

Chapter 64: Chapter 61


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The beholder flashed lightning from the elevator shaft and roared “BEHOLD” as it entered the Sleem’s primary cavern. Tayrinn glanced over and waved a hand dismissively.

“Oh don’t mind that. Just Quadrum being Quadrum.” In the space of time I had looked away, she had drinks poured and waiting. A measure of amber liquid sat in my glass, and she held a wine glass filled with a dark red liquid. The bottles were still on the table, but I hadn’t even heard a glass clink.

“What, uh . . . what is Quadrum?” I asked, raising the glass to my nose. It smelled incredible, and I took a sip immediately. Bad tequila is disgusting, but good tequila is delicious. The stuff she served me was the latter, and it burned just right.

“A beholder is a complex being to describe,” Taytrinn said. “If I’m being honest, I can only impart so much of my own understanding to you, anyway. My master wouldn’t want me saying too much about anything personal, of course.” She swirled her own glass and took a sip, before continuing. “A powerful being, for certain. Perhaps made of power. Sculpted from it. Suffice to say that Quadrum is here and interested in your Sleem.”

I nodded and frowned. “Oh. Well, crud. I kinda need my Sleem.” I took another sip as the woman fixed me with a look. “I just mean, this is supposed to be our Sleem farm, we were planning to work this area.”

Taytrinn leaned over, exposing some cleavage as she reached to set her glass down on the table between us. “Fear not, human. Your farm does not interfere with our needs. You may operate as you intend.”

I tipped my glass to her. “Well, that’s a relief. Hey, I don’t suppose you guys could do something about the Dearth Conglomerate? They’re kinda breathing down our necks.”

The dark elf chuckled and shook her head. “You misunderstand. In order to avoid the anger of its peers, my master will not aid your affiliate directly in any way, as a matter of policy.” She flipped her hand over on the arm rest and continued. “Which is not to say that there is no benefit in serving a beholder. You simply have to understand how to attain that benefit. Which is where I come in.”

I blinked a few times and waited for her to continue.

“I am the liaison. Head of this beholder’s support staff. I’m simply here to ensure that a smooth and confidential working relationship is attained between your affiliate, and the entity known as Quadrum.”

“BE NOT AFRAID!” The beholder roared at the Sleem below, rumbling the ground with its voice.

I pointed over my shoulder at the pit. “What’s the deal with that? Does it always say the same stuff?”

A new smile rose to her lips, unbidden, and she cocked her head to look at me. “No, not at all. Verbalization is a foreign concept to a beholder, and they wear no mouths to speak of. What you are feeling is basic communicative desire. Quadrum wishes you to know something, and that roar you hear is all of that desire that you are able to comprehend. I hear much more, of course, but I’ve no idea what the Sleem hear, if they hear anything at all.”

I sipped my tequila, again impressed by how good it was. “So is that what Quadrum does? Sleem?”

“Does. What a charming notion. No, that is not all that the beholder I serve ‘does.’ I am not surprised to find us in another Sleem hole, though. It has been a subject of relevance in recent years.” Taytrinn took a long moment to stare at her surroundings. The blank concrete and Sleem juice. “Better than some, at any rate.”

“Sorry, we only just got this area cleared out. I don’t suppose it would take much to make the place livable. I assume you are wanting to stay close to Quadrum?”

She nodded. “Yes, I need to stay near my master. As will the rest of its support staff.”

The sultry elf reached for her wine glass again. “But we shall also require free run of your facility. I’ll be interfacing with your staff and ensuring operational security for the entity, my master. The others will perform other tasks. Most of us you won’t even notice. Unless we want you to.” She licked her upper lip and made eye contact.

I nodded, squinting at her over my tequila glass. “Of course, of course. I do have to point out that I’m not hearing a lot of options in this for me, or for my affiliate. Is that pretty normal?”

Taytrinn narrowed her red eyes and smiled so wide her teeth peeked out from behind her lips for an instant. “Extremely. Beholders do as they please. Very few affiliates offer these entities something they cannot afford or acquire themselves. And fewer still are capable of preventing them from executing their will.” The dark elf took another sip of her wine, which I could tell from the label on the bottle was a 2012 California merlot. She seemed to be enjoying it, almost as much as she was enjoying my situation.

“Right, right. I get that, and I’m not trying to cause trouble or anything. I guess I’m just wondering what would exist to prevent uh, Quadrum, from destroying this entire place and killing everyone under my care.” I awkwardly sipped my tequila. “You know, since I’m powerless to stop that, and all.”

The beholder rose, glowing and gyrating from the elevator shaft behind me again, and I flinched at the timing. I could feel its attention before the voice rang through my bones and the walls of my facility again. “BE NOT AFRAID!”

The beholder approached, and I got a picture of how massive it was, up close. The thing was the size of a bull elephant, just rotating and blinking as it moved around us, to settle in place directly behind Taytrinn. She casually reached a hand back and stroked one ring, retracting her fingers with a wicked smile when the tips of them seared.

“Quadrum’s word, Tyson. A beholder’s word is as good as law. This beholder would like to take up residence in your basement and quietly study your Sleem. You and yours will not be harmed by the entity in exchange for basic privacy and autonomy, a very simple arrangement, designed with peaceful intent. My master is aware of your ‘rule’ and would like to point out that its presence will be extremely useful to your affiliate. Anyone of use is welcome here, no?”

I laced my fingers and leaned forward. “Absolutely. And your job is to explain the useful part, right?”

Taytrinn’s smile returned, and she threw back her head to laugh. “You’re catching on! How much do you know about Sleem farming?”

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

I glanced up as if searching the inside of my head before answering her, “Almost nothing.”

“There you have it. We’re earning our keep already, isn’t this fun?” The dark elf adjusted the hem of her skirt and fixed me with a serious gaze. “Before Quadrum arrived, you were about to give up and kill them, having been tricked into a compromised situation. Assuming you could have then contained the remaining Sleem already present in the cavern below, this action still would have reduced your standing Sleem by almost half, and significantly slowed the start of your farm.”

I raised my hand. She blinked at me with a frown but waved a hand for me to ask.

“How do you know that? And my name?” I lowered my hand after asking.

“Your names are attached to the affiliate page, I did my research as soon as my master informed me of our destination.” Taytrinn produced a device from the inside of her jacket lining. It seemed to appear out of thin air. “And I know what happened immediately before Quadrum arrived because it told me.” She moved a thin strand of loose hair behind an ear with a smooth motion, looking down at her device.

“My history on your affiliate is limited, but it looks like you have some live animal ranching experience. Spiders, it says here?” She glanced up at me as she asked. “We share that, my people also cultivate spiders for various uses.”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. They kind of just lived here before, and we started selling some of their silk for morties.” I reached for my tequila again. I was feeling the drink already, and it helped with the sheer terror I was fighting to control. The red corset beneath her black suit jacket peeked through above and below the single button she had secured, giving it an hourglass appearance. “Never really ranched much of anything.”

“So no practical experience there either. That’s fine, I expect you’ll automate the Sleem farm anyway, that’s how most do it. It’s really not much more than a pipe that leads to a freezer anyhow.” She twirled her wrist to dismiss the complexity of my task, and I found myself mesmerized by her movements. They were strangely smooth and graceful.

I snapped out of it and raised a hand again. “Oh I have a guy for that now! Can I introduce you to Axle? He’s running all of my logistics, as of today.”

She frowned and shrugged her thin shoulders. “Yes of course. Anyone who is told about my master will need to meet it face to face in order to agree to secrecy is all. I, and a small contingent of staff, will need accommodation, somewhere nearby, but not in here, obviously. This area will need to be my master’s. No one in or out without my direct approval.” The elf smiled at me again, and I noticed for the first time how sharp her teeth were. “We’ll install our own doors, don’t worry.”

My eyes flickered from the sultry dark elf in front of me to the swirling entity behind her and I smile politely. “Right, you’re moving in. I suppose I’ll need to cut a chunk off my MortBlock, in that case.”

Taytrinn sipped from her wine glass and pursed her lips. “No need. In fact, please do not. My master’s existence here is meant to be a secret. Large missing portions of a MortBlock, while an unlikely source of information leakage, could still lead a clever investigator here. The last thing any beholder wants is fame.” She curled one lip. “Simply section that part off when refreshing it and leave us to our own devices. You will own anything my master chooses to leave behind, but the expectation is you will leave them alone while the beholder is using them, obviously. Typically, a beholder’s study equipment is thought of as a major find. Worth many morties on the open market”

When she said the word ‘morties,’ it sounded almost like something was stuck in the back of her throat, and I was again reminded of the translation effect.

“I wonder what morties is in your language,” I muttered.

Her laughter bounced off the concrete walls and pillars again. “You point your mind to such strange things, it is no wonder my master finds this place appealing. It must sense something in you.” She fixed me with a gaze. “Or rather, building from you, perhaps. I’m certainly . . . drawn.”

I nodded and smiled, unsure what to say to that.

She lowered her head and blinked a few times. “Accommodation?”

“Oh, right. Well, there’s an old residential wing right above us. Should be plenty of room for you and your staff.” My forehead wrinkled in concern. “Shit, do I have to feed you guys too?”

“We operate quite independently, in our master’s interests. Once you have left us, the beholder will den here, and we will liaise with you about anything that may arise.” Her fingers twirled idly, and the laser pointer appeared in her hand again. She indicated a large section of the concrete floor, and the still-present pod moved over and opened a warp beam for several other dark elves to step through. Just over two dozen of them entered the massive open room, along with a livestock-sized spider covered in shaggy hair. As it stepped from the beam, it mewled in a deep, lamenting voice.

I couldn’t help but stare. The elves were each dressed differently, and some were fairly extreme in their appearance. A thin female with a lithe body stood out, as she wore nothing but streamers of silk that adhered to her most private parts but flowed freely otherwise. She had fine, nearly glowing white hair that fell to her ankles, and she began dancing directly beneath the floating beholder almost as soon as she arrived in the room. Several of the creature’s eyes followed her body, and the beholder’s tentacles and eyestalks unraveled to sway along with the dancing elf’s movements.

The elf handling the giant spider was petting it softly, cooing in its ears, I assumed. He was also wearing overalls. I hadn’t expected to see a dark elf in overalls, but it was a big day for firsts. Some of them wore uniforms that looked military and followed a larger dark elf in heavy armor with a cleanly shaved head. At a motion from him, a handful of them split off and jogged in unison toward the far end of the cavernous room.

Another male sidled up to Taytrinn silently, appearing out of the shadows to her side. He wore matte black cloth, wrapped with thin belts to allow for free movement. As he ducked to allow her to whisper in his ear, the hulking elf strode over to me with footsteps that nearly shook the ground. He was wearing what looked like black plate metal, with intricate filigree etched across the chest. The image depicted a glowing orb surrounded by rings, not unsimilar to a beholder, but lacking any sense of life.

The armored elf came up to the arrangement of furniture and stopped beside Taytrinn, to stand at a parade rest. He wore a sword at his hip, and carried a large, bulky rifle across his back. The woman in the chair looked up at him, then glanced at me and smiled.

I stood and gulped the rest of my tequila. It felt like time for me to leave. 

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