Avarice: The Realm Chapter 11: Cows that Type

Cows that Type

After fast traveling to Fort Lincoln I hand the apprehension module off to Pierre. As he takes it from me, I pause.

“Is there a gold card that will revive you after you die?” I ask.

“There is,” says Pierre. “Afterlife. It revives you after you die once.”

“I see,” I say. “It looks like Peter Cool used it.”

Pierre frowns. “That shouldn’t have happened,” he says. “Mandrake Signa never wastes gold cards.”

I shrug. “Well, I know that Peter was killed and then became a ghost before I tranquilized him.” I scratch my chin. “And he conjured some pretty nasty man traps.”

“We understand,” says Pierre. “What about the Dawn Wonderers? Did you get on their good side?”

“It seems they wanted Peter dead too,” I say. “So I think they’ll forgive me for peeling away from the dungeon raid before it was over.”

Pierre nods. “I’m going to have to contact their leader soon and inform them of what happened.” He turns away. “Good job. I assume you’ll be working on the Mandrake problem.”

“I have a few ideas,” I say. I activate telepathy. “Garnet.”

“Yes?” she answers, through telepathy.

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay,” she says. “Meet me in the card library.”

I walk to the card library and enter, greeted as usual by a blast of air-conditioning. Garnet is sitting on the floor while sorting through boxes of cards.

“So you took him down,” she says.

“I did,” I say. I sit down next to her and begin to help.

“Did his powers give you much trouble?” asks Garnet.

“No,” I say. “But Surprise Negation saved my life.”

Garnet chuckles. “Yeah. Gold cards will do that.”

“I have a question,” I say.

“Ask,” says Garnet. She continues sorting cards into piles.

“What happens when all one hundred gold cards are collected?”

“You become a god,” says Garnet. “You gain near infinite power.”

“So I take it no one’s ever done it before,” I say.

Garnet laughs. “No! The largest gold card collection ever held by any group was thirty-two cards!” She sighs, putting a stack of MRE cards on the shelf. “No matter how hard the government tries, even though we’ve been at it for ten years, we can’t seem to earn more than one or two gold cards a year.”

“And you gave me one of them just like that,” I say.

“New gold cards are hard to find, I should say,” says Garnet. “Once the process for acquiring a certain gold card is known, it is relatively easy to acquire another copy.”

“Oh, I see,” I say. “So groups have an incentive to keep the methods of retrieving specific gold cards secret.”

“Indeed,” says Garnet. “Don’t be fooled, though. Even if you know how to acquire a certain gold card, it is still either insanely difficult of very labor-intensive to get another copy.”

“And you can sell them for a lot,” I say. I reach into my pocket and take out the half medallion I was given by the Black Marches. It’s half of a gold card. Does that make it extremely valuable?

“Right,” says Garnet. “If you ever do find the process for acquiring a gold card, the government will buy it off you for an exorbitant price.”

I show Garnet the half medallion.

She shakes her head. “The Black Marches are not a group to be trifled with,” she says. “If they tell you to do something, you’d best be doing it. If they tell you that you can’t sell it, don’t.”

“So, even the US government can’t handle them,” I say.

Garnet shrugs. “More like we don’t want to,” she says. “They aren’t harming us or our citizens, and we don’t want to provoke them.”

I understand how this works. The same thing is true for a number of Freax-based organizations. The Black Marches are on the powerful side, sure, but there’s a protocol for dealing with these people.

Garnet stands up. “What cards do you think you’ll use to capture Mandrake?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t use any of the cards I had planned to use last time,” I say. “I think I can use the same tactic I was planning to use on Peter Cool.”

“Transportal?” asks Garnet. “What are you going to use that for?”

“A pitfall,” I say. “Leading him right into lockdown. No apprehension module necessary.”

“Huh,” says Garnet. “So you’re planning to think with portals.”

“Exactly,” I say. “If I can put the transportal exit on the roof of a lockdown chamber here at Fort Lincoln, I can somehow get Mandrake to step into it.”

“Simple,” says Garnet, “But who says it will be effective?”

“It’s worth a shot,” I say. “I plan on using the rifle I got too.”

“How’s that going to work?” asks Garnet.

“When people are dodging bullets, they don’t really think about where they dodge to.”

“I see,” says Garnet. “You’re going to trick him into dodging your sniper round and send him careening into a lockdown chamber.”

“Exactly,” I say. “For that I need two copies of Transportal. One to shoot through and one to act as a pitfall.”

Garnet walks to a shelf in an adjacent row and takes a number of cards off of the wall. She returns and hands me five cards.

“You won’t know where he’ll dodge, right?” she says. “With this many transportals you can cover your bases.”

“Thanks,” I say. I take the cards and put them in my binder. “We know where Mandrake’s base is, right?”

“We’ll get it out of Ratsi or Peter Cool at some point or another,” says Garnet. “For now, why don’t you take a small break and come back tomorrow morning?” She grins. “I suggest trying to complete your reball army.”

“Aren’t we pressed for time?” I ask.

“Tell that to Ratsi or Peter Cool,” says Garnet. “Until they cave and tell us where Mandrake is, we can’t do anything.”

“What about informants?” I ask.

“We’ve tried,” says Garnet. “Mandrake is very secretive. If the informant network knew where he is, we’d be a lot better off.”

“Okay,” I say. “I understand your logic. Where do you suggest I start looking for, um, new pieces for my reball army?”

“I suggest you do the ‘catch the cows’ quest,” says Garnet. “It gives you a number of supply units that are a lot better than the ones you get in any starter kit.”

“Okay,” I say. “And where can I start this quest?”

“Evecin,” says Garnet. “Just head to the Old Gateway Tavern and talk to the NPC quest giver in the corner.”

I turn away. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If you do happen to get an info about Mandrake, tell me immediately.”

“Will do,” says Garnet. She continues to sort through the incoming cards.

I leave the card library and step out into the hot desert sun, and then I approach the fast travel tower. “Evecin,” I say.

The familiar beam of light envelops me and sends me flying over the game’s landscape. I land in the city of Evecin, a city built in a tight, narrow valley between two mist-topped peaks. I ask the first person I see where the Old Gateway Tavern is.

“Eh?” says the player. “Who you asking for?”

I let out a little bit of my intimidation aura. “I’m not looking for trouble,” I say. “Just tell me where it is.”

“Heh,” says the player. “You must be new here.”

I sigh, taking out a gold coin. “Here.” I flip it to him.

The man scoffs, pointing down the street. “Down there, first right, it’ll be on your left.”

“Thanks,” I say. I follow his directions and soon find myself in front of a western-style saloon with a sign reading “Old Gateway.”

I step inside. A jukebox in the corner is playing ambient music. A couple of players are celebrating around a reball table.

I approach the old man sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Eh?” says the man. “Are you a strong fella?” He looks up at me. “Do you like cows?”

I chuckle to myself. “Sure.”

A little panel appears in front of me. Quest Accepted.

“Mah cows have been infected with some sort of alien virus,” says the man. “They’ve learned how to write and read and are now protesting for wages.”

I frown. “Okay?” I say. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Find some way to keep them from ruining me with their unionization!” says the man.

“They’re unionizing?” I say. “The cows?”

“Well, yeah,” says the old man. “I told you it was an alien virus.”

“Are these cows kept for meat?” I ask.

“Well, yeah,” says the old man. “I told you it was an alien virus.”

I must have walked down the wrong conversation path. “Okay,” I say. “Do you have any ideas?”

The man’s facial expression changes. “Them aliens be coming back soon, ya hear?” he says. “Maybe you can get them to get rid of that darn tootin’ sentience virus.”

“So you want me to find a cure for sentience,” I say.

The man rocks back and forth in his seat. “Darn tootin’,” he says.

It appears I have ended the conversation tree. I turn away from the old man.

A marker appears on my status screen, telling me where the old man’s farm is. I leave the city limits and travel through a game trail until I come upon a rather large clearing, dominated by fences and a sturdy farmhouse. I hear voices coming from behind the house.

As I approach, I notice that the voices are much lower than any human being could produce. I turn around the corner and see five black and white Holstein cows sitting in a circle around a hay bale.

They’re talking to each other.

“You know Shidafroiden’s theory of impermeable possibility says that the deacon value should be over nine, right?” says the first cow to the right.

“Yes, of course,” says the second cow to the left. “But what does that have to do with Robien’s Hypothesis?”

“Hingervalues, of course!” says the closest cow.

“Oooh!” say the group of cows. They then begin to moo.

I clear my throat. The cows turn to me, as if they have just noticed me.

“Uh, hi,” I say. “Do you mind if I talk to you?”

The closest cow sighs. “Sure. You’re working for Old Man Timmers, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say. “He says some sort of alien infected you with … Uh, sentience.”

“But what is sentience?” says the furthest cow.

The group of cows moo in agreement.

The closest cow walks up to me and looks me in the eye. “We don’t know where we’ve come from, but we would indeed like to maintain the status quo.” He looks to his compatriots. “We are officially self-aware, after all.”

“Do you think, with your intelligence, you could figure out a compromise with the farmer?” I ask.

The cows moo, shaking their heads. “Certainly not. That farmer wants to steal our children and the products of our teats. Not to mention the ghastly end he has in mind for us.” The cow shakes its head. “Hamburgers.”

The cows moo as they join in the head shaking.

“So you want wages, then?” I ask. “And not to be eaten?”

“That is the most basic of our demands,” says the representative cow. “We are aware of many things. Some things that would surprise even you.”

“Who gave you this sentience?” I ask.

“Do you really want to know?” says the representative cow.

“I do,” I say. “Tell me everything.”

“We were given sentience by the Scithians,” says the representative cow. “We do not know much about them, except the fact that they wish to conquer this world. Now that you know, do you feel afraid?”

“Um, no,” I say. “This is a pretty classic trope.”

“Trope?” says the representative cow. “You would dare classify us into that category? What are we to you, pieces of fiction?”

“Um, sort of,” I say.

The cow sighs. “If you can cut us a deal with Old Man Timmers and get us wages, life protection, and a good benefits package, we’ll help you out.”

“I’ll try that,” I say. “It should be easy, right?”

“Old Man Timmers is a stubborn farmer,” says the cow.

The rest of the cows moo in agreement.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll try to make a deal with him.”

“Here he comes now!” says the representative cow.

I look back at the farm’s entrance. Old Man Timmers is in the process of opening the gate.

I approach him. “Hello, Farmer Timmers,” I say.

“Eh?” says Timmers. “Have ya taught those cows a lesson?”

“No,” I say. “I’m here to negotiate on their behalf.”

“Whaddya mean?” says Timmers. “You think I would really stoop to negotiating with beasts?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think they’re beasts anymore, Mr. Timmers.” I pause. “I think they can do you a lot of good if you treat them more like farm hands. Maybe get them to write a physics paper or two.”

“Plisics?” says the old man. “Whaddya mean, popsics?”

I sigh. “Just give them a typewriter and pay them a bit for their milk. Maybe you can use the proceeds from the royalties they generate to buy some non-sentient cows and use those for beef.”

The old man grunts. “I’ll sell the lot to you for two hundred gold,” he says. “Since you seem to like them so much.”

“Deal,” I say.

I transfer the money to the farmer.

The five cows, behind me, pop into card form. The cards float down to the straw where the cows had been dialoguing.

I pick them up. They’re reball pieces.

I feel like I’ve just been through something strange. These five reball pieces are of the “strategist” type, and will give my soldiers various boosts, both tactical and strategic.

Well, cool. If the rest of the quests this game has to offer are this interesting, I won’t have as bad of a time here as I thought.

I head back to the city and use the fast travel tower to return to Fort Lincoln.

Garnet is passing by the fast travel tower when I arrive. She frowns at me.

“That was quick,” she says.

“Binder,” I say. I take out one of the Cow Strategist cards.

Garnet chuckles. “I knew you would like that quest.”

“Are all quests this strange?” I ask.

“No, not really,” says Garnet. “But you did get the best strategist cards in all of reball for your effort.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, and I think I’ll enjoy reball a lot more now.”

“For sure,” says Garnet. Her facial expression changes to one of business. “We have what we need,” she says. “Ratsi caved again.”

“Great,” I say. “Let’s do this.”