6.07 D (1/2)

Aiko Nonomura sat at a table and felt a bug run up her leg. She brushed it off absentmindedly, not even bothering to check what it was. A few months ago, Aiko would have screamed, cried, and washed her leg—especially since Baleros’ bugs were the kind of things that lodged in the mind. Literally, if they crawled up your nose.

Today though, was different. Aiko could have stomped a dozen bugs and not blinked twice. There were more important things to worry about. Geneva had taught her that.

Yesterday, Aiko had helped deliver a Centaur baby—colt. A baby. And she hadn’t panicked or fainted. She couldn’t. She’d been Geneva’s assistant. Wiping sweat, holding clamps—Aiko had seen worse than a childbirth. And in surgery, the stakes were never higher.

There was no surgery today. Everyone was hung over, or tired from last night’s party. But the present leaders of the United Nations company were here. Geneva had woken up and they were talking.

Just—talking about the future. But Aiko could sense a shift in the mood from last time they’d talked, two days ago. There was more optimism. Not just from Ken—he was always trying to be cheerful and bring everyone’s spirits up, even if Aiko could tell he wasn’t happy. But the reason the group felt better was because of her.

Geneva. She sat in her chair, not tense, worried or guilty for once. The intensity of her eyes, that glare that could go through you, was subdued. She had done her job. She had saved Miss Hastel and delivered the baby. She felt…confident. Calmer. And Aiko was reassured for it.

They all were. Around the table, Daly, Paige, Siri, Ken, and Aiko sat, listening to Geneva outline her proposal.

“So, a clinic?”

Daly sat up. He looked good too. He’d come in late last night, and no one asked why. Come to that—some of the United Nations members hadn’t come back until the morning. Aiko wasn’t sure what to make of that; it wasn’t the fact that they might have found love outside the Human genome that bothered her. Dullahans, Lizardfolk—even Centaurs you could love, she was sure.

Because they were like people. You didn’t think they would be. You thought they’d be like aliens, but all too soon it felt like you were just talking to someone with a different face. And when you closed your eyes…

“A clinic. It doesn’t have to be large, but I need at least one room to perform surgeries in.”

Geneva nodded. Siri frowned a touch anxiously.

“That means another house at the least. Can we afford it?”

Paige snorted, but gently.

“We can afford it and maybe get two apartments on this street. Miss Hastel’s gratitude knows no bounds.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no bounds—”

“Okay, she’s still going to charge us rent. But her gratitude goes a long way. We can definitely get a good deal on it. And from what you’re saying, Geneva, money might not be a problem anymore. Is that right?”

Paige looked at Geneva hopefully. The [Doctor] smiled slightly. She actually smiled!

“No. I think I’ve found a permanent source of income outside of treating amputated limbs and so on.”

“C-sections. Who would’ve thought?”

Daly leaned back. Ken looked from Geneva to Aiko.

“You think it will earn money, Geneva? And that you will have business?”

“I think so. Miss Caleffe told me Centaurs have the most complicated childbirths out of all the species, but there are always problems a [Midwife] has to learn to anticipate. And Caesarian Sections are a way to avoid those complications. It’s not an easy way out—”

“Even if healing potions don’t leave a scar and it’s less strenuous on the body than pregnancy.”

Paige muttered under her breath. Geneva gave her a reproving look.

“I don’t want to make it seem like this is the better option. And I am concerned about complications during the operation. I had no experience prior to this, and Miss Hastel was the first surgery I ever performed. There are four main species on Baleros, each with different anatomies…”

The others let Geneva go on. But despite the good [Doctor]’s reservations, her conclusion was the same.

“I can be on call for childbirths. And if a [Midwife] detects a problem, or if a mother comes to me…I can perform the operation. It might be a case where those who are affluent come to me to have the operation done to preserve their figures or lessen the pain.”

Geneva grimaced. Aiko nodded. She’d heard of that happening. Too many operations as opposed to natural births. But that was a moral quandary for later. Right now, the point was that Geneva had something that everyone needed.

After all, wars came and went. Healing potions could heal most mundane injuries. And severed limbs were rare, if distressing anomalies. But childbirth was forever.

“We might get more patients coming in just by word of mouth alone. Saving Miss Hastel’s baby put your name out there again.”

Paige was trying to figure out how much they could spend to get Geneva’s clinic up and running. There were things to be considered, like how to charge people. Geneva was firm in that she’d give anyone who needed medical attention aid, especially pregnant mothers. Ken proposed a fine alternative—charge them by what they could pay. A [Merchant]’s wife could make up for a half dozen poorer patients.

But there was something else Geneva had to talk about. And it came up the instant she turned to Daly.

“I hear a group of Dullahans may be joining your team.”

“Ah. The Rustless Guard? Yeah. I spoke to Eldima last night. She was really impressed by our group. And I think we can hit it off. Uh—working together that is.”

Daly grinned sheepishly. A hint of a blush crossed his features. The others around the table reacted according to their personalities. Siri sighed. Paige rolled her eyes. Ken looked away politely. Aiko covered her mouth as she smiled. Geneva just stared.

“Did you two have sex?”

“Aw, come on Geneva—”

“Answer the question.”

Daly hesitated.

“It was more like…uh, well, we didn’t get to sex, but—”

“Kissing? Penetration of any kind?”

“Fuck me. Why’s it so important?”

Daly stood up, flushing red with a bit of anger. Geneva sighed.

“Because—the next time you’re in that situation, you need to ask Eldima, or Quexa, or anyone you meet if they have any symptoms of infection around their genitals. And to be safe, you need to use this.”

She pulled something out of her pocket. Aiko recognized it at once. Paige had been helping Geneva make them based on the blueprints the [Doctor] had worked up last night. She must have been fast, because the completed product was already in Geneva’s hands. The first prototype of many.

The group of Earthworlders stared at the object curiously. Geneva shook it out and Daly’s eyes widened. He took only a second to identify the crude linen condom and groaned.

“Oh come on. STD’s? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Siri blinked down at the object Geneva placed on the table. Ken eyed it, looking very surprised. He stared at Geneva.

“Condoms. And you want us to…”

“Wear them. Use them. And ask your partners if they show signs of infectious diseases. I’ll be giving the company a full lecture on what to ask for and symptoms later today. I should have done it last night before we had a party. If I hadn’t fallen asleep—I’m giving everyone a second checkup. This time pants and underwear off. No objections.”

Geneva grimaced. The others looked at each other. Siri frowned.

“Is this serious, Geneva? Pregnancy isn’t a problem in this world. There’s a potion for that, you know. As for diseases—I haven’t heard of any. You said so yourself that plagues were rare.”

“That’s what I thought. Until I saw two of Quallet’s patients who had just contracted something called Yellow Rivers in a brothel. They were seriously ill. They’d used healing potions and the infection had rapidly progressed. I have pictures. Do you want to see?”

The table blanched. Aiko felt her breakfast try to come up. Ken took one look at her face and hastily replied.

“No, we believe you. So there are infectious diseases, Geneva?”

“Yes. And if there’s one, there are more.”

Geneva tapped the condom grimly.

“I know there are potions to prevent pregnancy. And it’s not enough. A potion might prevent pregnancy, but only a condom will prevent STD’s—even then, it’s risky. So use one. Especially if you’re having sex with someone from another species. Don’t have sex unless you’re sure they’re fine, understand?”

Daly grumbled as he sat back down and leaned back in his chair, covering his eyes.

“You know, there was one good thing about coming to this world—”

“Magic?”

Siri smiled as Daly glanced up at her in ire. Then the Swedish girl looked at Geneva.

“I mean, could the infections also be magical?”

Geneva paused.

“It’s a distinct possibility. My two patients I’m treating by cleaning out their infections, bandaging them, and giving them an antiviral and antibiotic treatment based on the [Healer]’s recipes. It will take me some time to see how effective the treatments I gave them are. But if it’s partially magical…I can’t stop a magical disease. I don’t know how. If there’s a magical antibiotic or…neutralizing agent, I need to use it.”

“There are dispelling charms and magics. I suppose an [Alchemist] might be able to find you an herb or mixture you could use.”

Geneva nodded.

“More research to do. But these condoms should work. They’re waterproof and I’ve soaked them in a mild mixture I think should kill off bacteria. It works on the cultures I’ve been growing. Still, there’s only one way to be sure, so everyone needs to know the risks.”

Daly put his face in his hands.

“How’re we supposed to explain this to Quallet and the others?”

“I’ll do it.”

Ken looked miserable as he volunteered, but Geneva held up a hand.

“He’s in the city, isn’t he? Or rather, camped outside it? I’ll go with you.”

“We all will.”

Paige sighed. Aiko stood up and followed the group into the apartments. She looked at the other Earthworlders. Daly’s reaction was probably indicative of how the others would react. Sexually transmitted diseases felt like an Earth problem. But they were even worse here. She thought of the infected soldiers in Quallet’s company and had to excuse herself to sit down for a minute.

—-

Aiko found the others talking to Quallet in the inn he’d rented. The [Mercenary Captain] was nodding as Geneva told him about STD’s in general terms.

“It’s a serious problem, Quallet. Your soldiers need to be briefed on the risks, especially of visiting brothels. Ken or I can give them the lecture themselves, but I have to insist they hear it.”

Quallet was nodding, before Geneva finished her sentence.

“You’re damned right it’s a problem. Anyone who comes down with that kind of sickness can’t use healing potions. It just makes the…rash worse. Very quickly. By all means tell them. And I’ll make sure Quexa and my other officers knock it into their heads. But what’s this thing?”

He waved a hand at the condom Geneva was holding. Daly covered his face as Geneva explained what it was.

Credit to Quallet. His face barely twitched as she described—and showed him with a handy banana, the ubiquitous tool across all worlds—how it should work. But then he looked at the condom a second time and nodded.

“How many can you give me?”

“Excuse me?”

“For my company. It would ease my mind—and others, of course to have them. Even if they’re not perfect. I’ll buy…damn. At least four hundred? They’re cheap, right? Or can we…reuse them?”

Geneva looked at the others. She had to excuse herself to go into a huddle with the others.

“We could import that materials and make up a few thousand. It’s not hard. It’s just—well, you know how they work, right?”

“Who’ll make them?”

“We could get some of the people without jobs to do the work. It’s really not that bad. The pricey bit’s getting the materials and doing the condom properly. Linen, you see? But get a few [Stitchers]…”

“We could outsource. Hire some Lizardfolk in the city to do the job. So long as there’s quality control.”

“Are we really getting into the condom business?”

Paige looked mildly upset as she protested. Daly, who’d finally gotten over his reservations, slapped her on the back. She punched him in the gut in return.

“Ow! Come on, Paige! We’re miles ahead of Baleros in terms of uh, STD-prevention! Who’s got the best sex diseases? We do! Go Earth!”

Ken just sighed. Geneva was working out a plan to manufacture condoms with Paige and Quallet. Aiko leaned back as Ken and Daly began talking seriously about…boy things. She looked out the window of Quallet’s inn, towards a glittering, shining body of water. It shone green in the morning’s light, and she could see people on the docks, ships in the harbor.

The ocean. For all that Baleros was jungles and forest around the city of Talenqual, it was a port city. And the sea was vast. Aiko looked out across it and thought of the one member of the company who hadn’t returned. She looked back.

“I’m spreading the word right now. No one’s visiting a brothel until we have more of these things. Geneva, I’d be grateful if you came with me.”

Quallet hurried down the steps. Geneva followed him. In the silence, the others looked at each other.

“Hell, if it earns us money…”

Daly shrugged, sighing. Paige nodded.

“It’s important. I’ll work with Geneva on this. But while she’s gone—Aiko, close that door for a second.”

Aiko did. Quallet’s room was quiet for a second as everyone glanced at Paige. The [Engineer] lowered her voice.

“Ken, you brought back what I needed on your trip. Alchemist’s materials. I haven’t been able to get ahold of the right stuff until now, but you found exactly what I needed.”

The young man from Japan smiled.

“It was the right ingredient? The [Alchemist] had a difficult time telling which substance you wanted, Paige. I am glad it was correct.”

She nodded.

“I can get more now that I know what to ask for. And it’s more plentiful than I thought. Charcoal, saltpeter…there are volcanos too. So…I can make gunpowder now, guys.”

She looked around. The room went silent. Daly’s head rose and Siri’s eyes flashed as she looked at Paige. The two adventurers looked at each other.

“Guns?”

“Geneva won’t like it at all. And she had a point about spreading the tech, Paige.”

Daly frowned, worried. Paige nodded.

“Guns would be hard to make. And I’d have to have a [Blacksmith] help me, so it’s risky. They’d be able to see what I’m doing even if all I need are the metal parts. And…someone sees you using the guns, or just hears a rumor and you’ll have people trying to steal it. Take it.”

“So what’s your idea? You have one, right?”

Siri met Paige’s eyes. The Australian girl nodded.

“I do. I’m skipping guns. I’ll…work on something. An emergency weapon like Daly’s poisoned miniature crossbow. But my real focus will be grenades.”

The others paused. Daly exhaled.

“Grenades? You mean…bombs.”

“It doesn’t need a metal shell. I could make a pot and fill it with shrapnel. It’s not even that far from an [Alchemist]’s creations. They have exploding flasks filled with oil, and so on. But these will be non-magical.”

“You’ll need a separate space. And be careful. If you set stuff off—”

“I’ll be careful. But I want your approval before I argue it out with Geneva.”

Aiko bit her lip. Geneva wouldn’t like this at all. But Paige was looking at her, so Aiko nodded hesitantly. She’d seen monsters. If the Bushrangers were fighting them…oh, would they sell this to Quallet?

“We’ll take on the arguments. It’ll be a company secret. And no one lets the grenades be touched by anyone else. We use them, and that’s it.”

Daly’s eyes were lit up. He was already thinking how to use them. Ken nodded slowly. Aiko felt her stomach twist again. So that was today. Condoms and babies. Grenades and gunpowder.

The room fell silent after that. Aiko looked again out the window. Softly, wishing he were here to say something—no, only that he were here, she spoke.

“I wonder where Luan is?”

The others looked at her. Aiko, staring out the window, saw Daly give Ken a look and then lean over to whisper. Ken made a very unhappy face, but he nodded. It was Paige who finally spoke up.

“Say, Aiko…while we’re on important topics, about you and Luan.”

“What about Luan?”

Aiko turned, confused. Paige hesitated. Ken took over for her.

“It is not that we do not understand, Aiko. But even if we are in another world, Luan was married. So it is not good to—I know that you liked him, but even so, this is—”

He was glancing at the others. Daly sucked in his breath and Paige was wincing. It took Aiko a moment to realize what Ken was suggesting. When she did understand, she was furious. She stomped over and punched Ken in the arm.

“It is not that. Never that.”

“Really? Aiko, stop, stop! But you’re always asking about Luan, so we thought—”

“No! It is—it’s about—”

It had been a secret between Aiko and Luan. A hypothesis, as Luan had put it. But he’d confirmed it, so she was sure he would take care of the matter before he came back. She might do the same. But she didn’t want a tattoo. Nevertheless, Aiko told them, furiously. Ken’s mouth opened. Siri’s eyes went wide. Daly and Paige looked at each other.

“Oh. I had no idea.”

“Is Luan sure?”

“He is married. He has a wife and baby.”

Aiko punched Ken in the shoulder again, hard. He stepped back and made a silent gesture of apology. She glared at him—they’d have words later. But Daly was turning pale.

“I think he’s right. I noticed it too.”

“When was the last time you thought of them?”

Paige looked at Siri. The Swedish girl shook her head.

“Not even once. Not even—”

Suddenly, there was a look of anguish in her eyes. Daly bit his lip. Ken, Aiko, Paige, they all paused as familiar faces came back. Aiko closed her eyes.

“You see? We do not remember.”

“So what’s Luan going to do about it?”

Aiko turned to Daly. The Australian was shaking his head. She pointed at her arm.

“Make sure he doesn’t ever forget.”

—-

And miles to the north, and east, far from Talenqual, at least for him, a South African man paused and took a sip of water. From a canteen at his side. The slightly warm water was very sweet to him. Refreshing. And also, his last drink.

That wasn’t too bad, but Luan Khumalo had underestimated the length of his journey by a few hours. He still wasn’t too concerned because he’d been regularly hydrating so he wasn’t in desperate need of water, but he made a note to store more water and rations. Just in case.

Then again, there was a lot of water around him. But as the saying went, water was all around, but not a drop of it would Luan drink. The ocean’s saltwater lapped at the side of his boat. And though Luan had reached the ocean from a river outlet, he hadn’t refilled his canteen in that water either.

It wasn’t a good idea. Even if Baleros’ waters looked fresh, leeches and other water-born creatures could easily be drank if Luan had tried the water. If he was desperate he could boil some water, but Geneva had still warned him to buy his supplies at the Runner’s Guild instead.

“So I’ll get some water before I head back. It’s not a problem. Yeah.”

Luan tossed the empty water flask into the bottom of his small boat with a sigh. Then he picked up the two mounted oars attached to his boat and dipped them into the water. He pulled back, a single, fluid stroke. His boat shot across the water.

Boat. Actually, it was more like a canoe, but thinner. Built for Lizardfolk—it was as close as Luan could come to a proper single scull. Nevertheless, it was far bigger than anything he’d use in a race. Nor was it designed in the same way a modern shell would be.

And yet, Luan’s oars dipped into the water. He pulled, his legs straining against the wooden brace he’d installed. The water resisted, and in accordance with physics, the boat moved. The shell broke out of the surf and Luan felt gravity fighting him. He pulled the oars back, dipped them into the water, pulled again.

Long, power strokes. A steady, unfaltering pace. Luan breathed evenly, his body performing the action he’d practiced a hundred thousand times with ease. And his boat moved across the water.

Sculling. That was what you called it if you understood what Luan was doing. Rowing was another acceptable word. Paddling or kayaking would probably tempt Luan to smack the asker with an oar. But he accepted that not many people understood the very real difference between rowing and paddling. After all, some people would never so much as enter a boat in their lives. They’d live landlocked and that was fine, if a bit sad. But Luan had made sculling his life’s work.

On Earth, he had been an Olympic hopeful. The person who would have represented his nation of South Africa in the single sculling event. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Luan was one of the best in the world at what he did.

And that thing was getting from point A to point B as fast as possible. Two kilometers, to be exact. Not that anyone in this world used kilometers as measurements.

“How many miles can you go in a day, Luan? Twenty? Fifty? Stupid…American…system!”

Luan growled to himself between oar strokes. Yes, two kilometers was what the single scull event he’d trained for was measured in. Two kilometers. The fastest team of rowers in the world could go two kilometers in under six minutes. That was blazing quick. As for a single sculler, well, you’d be slower, but only by a minute. Yes, you could go faster than some people could run. But the difficulty was completely different. On land, any decent athlete could run that fast, if only for a while. But in the water?

Luan’s oars dipped into the water. He drew in, knees pressing inwards, and his arms stretched out. The paddles of the oars, which had been flat and drawing back, turned, twisting, and dipped into the water. Luan felt a moment where his weight pressed against the oar handles, and then he pulled.

Or rather, he pushed the boat through the water. It was a smooth movement that made the water ripple with the force as all the energy in his legs and arms and the weight of his body went into the motion. Accordingly, the boat moved faster, and Luan felt the power of the thrust carry him across the ocean. He bent forwards for another drive. Which was what you called that motion. Aiko had described it as ‘pulling the oars’. Luan had given up trying to correct her.

The shell was moving fast. And it would go faster if Luan could stop tearing at the water with each drive. It was throwing off his smooth rhythm and wasting the energy he was putting into the oars.

It made him feel like a beginner, actually. But Luan had grown…stronger over the last few weeks. So markedly so that he was struggling to find a new style that would keep up with his more powerful movements. He kept lapsing into his old patterns and having to correct himself.

Because that was the thing. Luan was flying across the ocean. This close to the shore, the waves weren’t that large, but Luan ignored them regardless. His single scull broke through the crest of a wave, soaking Luan from behind. He swore, but kept going, knowing he had more or less flat water to go through. And that his destination wasn’t far away.

He’d been rowing for a long time. For hours, in fact. And when he’d started, it had been from a town up the river he’d come down, twenty eight miles away. And he had at least fifteen more to go.

“How many is that in kilometers? Seventy?”

Something like that. A long ways to go even on land. But Luan wasn’t that tired. And he was sure he’d get to his destination—a port city named Cinfal—soon enough. And that was because Luan could see how fast he was moving by the passing shoreline.

Here was the thing. His boat wasn’t nearly as streamlined as a modern craft. Luan hated it. It was made of wood, and far, far wider than any boat designed for speed would be. And the riggers for his oars were a clumsy construction; he’d had to get them specialty-fitted and made by a [Blacksmith]. Even his oars were heavier. They’d given Luan blisters until he’d made the handles easier to hold. He’d also lost some of his calluses, but even so, they weren’t as nice on the palms.

All of these things made him slower. Especially the design of his shell and the weight. And yet, still, Luan Khumalo knew he could enter any Olympic race and win it with this boat and oars.

“Because I am a [Rower]. Not just a rower, but a [Rower]. Isn’t there a class for [Sculler] instead?”

Even the leveling system didn’t use proper terminology. Luan grunted. The sun shone down on his bare back. He swung the oars, feeling the smooth motion. Dipped them into the water. As Aiko put it, pulled.

And the boat nearly left the water this time. The force was like nothing Luan had ever felt, even when rowing in a coxless pair with his best friend. For a second he stared at his arms. He had muscle of course, and he was an athlete. Even so, he shook his head.

“Bloody unfair.”

Yes, that was it. The more time Luan spent in this world, the more he was convinced that was what was happening. To him and the other people from Earth. They were part of a system that was just…

Unfair. Frankly, ludicrously unfair. Perhaps others would have called it magical, wonderful, but Luan was an athlete. He took no drugs. He practiced and exercised to achieve a mastery over the one thing he was truly good at. He’d devoted his life to becoming a master at rowing. But someone could paddle about for a few weeks and gain a Skill that made them so much faster in the water than they had any right to be.

Skills. Levels. They allowed someone to reach past their limits. To do what was impossible. Luan had known it. Hell, he’d reveled in the fact, at watching Daly use [Power Strike] or marveling at the way Geneva could make a bleeding patient just stop with a touch. That was one thing. But this?

Pull. The next drive made the wind rush past Luan’s back. He gritted his teeth. His shell was shooting through the water, much, much faster than anyone from his world could ever hope to be, he was sure. He couldn’t tell, but he thought he was going faster than most people could hope to run. Without Skills, that was.

[Boat: Spray Cutter]. [Power Strokes]. [Greater Endurance]. [Lesser Strength]. [Enhanced Durability – Oars]. [Boat: Lightweight Craft]. [Wave Sense].

Those were his Skills. Those, and a few more. Each one had made Luan’s already high-speed that much more ludicrous. One Skill. One Skill could turn you into the best athlete in the world if you were close.

[Lesser Strength]. Oh, it sounded weak, but it had made Luan so much stronger it was insane. As if he could lift and extra…what was it from pounds to kilograms, again? Ah yes, an extra 20 kilograms with each arm. Ridiculous. If you had that Skill on top of a body? The weight limits at the Olympics would have absolutely no meaning. As for [Greater Endurance]—

Luan had healing potions and stamina potions on his belt. It was a thing Runners used. Magic to make them fresh and rested, able to run all day at their peak performance. He hadn’t used a potion and he’d been going at a fast pace this entire time. He could do three races back to back and win each one. His boat was barely affected by the waves. He could, and had blocked an axe with his oars and not even chipped it. As for the rest?

Ludicrous. Unfair. And…so much fun. Luan wanted to laugh and marvel at the speed at which he was going. Laugh and weep because he hadn’t earned it. Not really. He’d just leveled up. The system had given him levels and a class. He was an [Expert Rower]. Level 27 in only two months.

“Perhaps I earned it. I don’t feel like it, though. Not at all. This is too easy. What if I were a [Warrior]? Level 27? What must they feel like if they’re Level 30? 40? 50? Like gods. And that’s too much power for any one man, woman…Dullahan…”

Dark thoughts for such a beautiful day. Baleros slowly passed by Luan on his right. Forests and jungles devolving to brilliant white sand or cliffs. And the ocean was another marvel. Untouched by trash, even a hint of it. Pure and brilliant, green fading to blue in the distance. A world without pollution. Luan wanted to turn and admire it. But he did have a job. So he kept rowing.

With his back turned, mind you. The biggest danger Luan’s technique held was that he was rowing with his back to the front of the boat. In other words, he couldn’t see what he was rowing towards. Not a problem if you were on a lake, competing in a race. But on the ocean, or going up a winding river?

If he had to go slow, Luan would scull with one of the smaller oars. But when travelling from port to port along the continent’s shoreline, he used a different technique. Luan glanced at something propped in front of him as he drew forwards for another drive. A flash of light—he avoided staring at the reflected sun. But the image in the angled glass showed him a shape pulling out in front of him to the right. Luan cursed and pulled, using more force on his right. His shell turned.

“Thank you, mirrors. Thank you Paige.”

He’d spotted the second canoe coming off a beach just in time. Luan’s course took him right, and the figures on the canoe turned to follow. He heard a shout.

“Hey! You there! The Human on the boat! Hold on, we want to talk!”

Lizardfolk. Luan chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw them. They were turning, trying to catch him. Luan could change the course of his shell—right now he was headed around them, but that meant they had time to catch up. He could do that and make it a race, but instead—

“[Second Wind].”

Luan spoke the Skill and felt his body grow even fresher. Now he felt like he was on a day’s full rest. He swung forwards and drove his oars into the water. The South African man heard an exclamation from the boat and then a shout.

“One, two, stroke, stroke! Come on, catch him! There are eight of us—”

The eight Lizardfolk on the canoe turned. They were all using single oars, rowing towards Luan, trying to intercept him. But it was a futile effort. They had coordination, and maybe some Skills of their own, but their canoe was too heavy, their technique imperfect. Compared to Luan they could have been sitting still in the water. He raced past them and heard a shout.

“Aw, damn it you guys—”

Luan turned his head, wary of arrows. But the Lizardfolk had just given up. Some were laughing at their leader who was exasperatedly berating them. Another waved and Luan grinned.

Good-natured Lizardfolk. Still, if they were [Pirates] or [Brigands] they’d force Luan to hand over his cargo and all the money he had on him. The [Rower] wasn’t about to take that chance. He kept going and spotted the canoe heading back down to the beach where it had been hidden.

“Most definitely bandits of some kind. But at least they didn’t shoot arrows at me.”

After all, it was dangerous doing his job. Luan’s boat was marked along the side with a bright white splotch of paint, upon which was drawn a letter. Not alphabetical letter, but an actual letter, envelope and all. It was a crude but effective way of letting people know he was a Runner—or rather, water-based Runner—delivering messages for the Runner’s Guild. It usually worked, but sometimes it made him a target.

Still, Luan hadn’t ever run into anything he couldn’t outscull yet. And he’d been working for two months. In fact, he was so good at his job making deliveries from port to port that people were already remembering his name. Calling him the ‘Human who actually knows how to row’. Not the flashiest of titles, but it was getting there.

A [Rower] from Earth. An athlete good at one thing, and one thing only, really. Luan’s smile faded. This was all he could do. He was no warrior, he didn’t like fighting, and he had no head for magic. He couldn’t help Paige build a steam engine or figure out how batteries were made—how were they made? Acid? He could only row. And so he did. Straight into Cinfal’s harbor and towards the docks. But Luan had to pause to let the navy pass him by.

“Whoa.”

Sixteen ships had been crowding Cinfal’s harbor. It was a large city, but the armada of vessels were huge. The largest warship was so big that it hadn’t even been able to get near the docks. It was a massive vessel, with four masts that took an age to pass Luan by. No paddles for this great beast of a ship; it had opened all its sails and wind was blowing hard into them, despite there being only a slight breeze to the day.

“Magic. I suppose that’s how you do it.”

Luan shaded his eyes as the lead warship passed him by. The hull wasn’t just plain wood; it had been painted yellow and black, giving it an eerie look, that of strikes of lightning against a black background. And on deck? Hundreds of [Sailors] and [Soldiers] moved about, armed with cutlasses, swords, some even wearing armor despite being at sea. A few waved to Luan as he passed. The others eyed him like an insect in his tiny craft.

And the warship even made waves. Luan cursed and swung his oars, dodging the first swells the ship left. The other fifteen ships followed it out of the harbor, all propelled unnaturally swiftly by the wind. Luan was sure he could take them any day in a race, even with a huge head start. But to see such massive vessels moving like that was still eerie.

When they were gone, Luan rowed into the harbor. He looked up, shouting, and switched to single-oar sculling to navigate past the smaller fishing ships and vessels still present. He waved and a Dullahan directing traffic in point and shouted in a voice even Luan could hear.

“Right-most dock, Human! Watch out! Trading cog’s inbound!”

Luan glanced up, saw the cog moving slowly towards him, and picked up his oars. The Dullahan blinked and a few Lizardfolk unloading ships laughed and clapped their hands in delight as Luan zoomed past the cog to his place. By the time he’d tied his boat up, the Dullahan was striding towards him.

Part of Luan, a small part, wanted to act like a certain pirate captain as he stepped onto the dock. But since he didn’t want to sink his precious shell, he clambered out and waited for the Dullahan politely.

“Runner, are you?”

The female Dullahan propped her hand on her hips. Her head was being carried in a sling around her neck, much like a baby would be. Luan looked at that as he nodded.

“On a delivery.”

“Priority?”

“No. I can pay now.”

“Ah, well then, how long will you be here?”

“Let’s call it a day. I can actually drag this thing onto the docks if you’ve got a place to put it…”

It was far heavier than a modern boat, so Luan didn’t really want to do that if necessary. The Dullahan [Harbormistress] shook her head.

“No need. You saw that fleet heading out? They were our big customers. We’ll have open docks for at least a day or so. The fee will be four silver for the night.”

Luan grimaced. Four silver? That was a lot—but he was renting a space. And…he mentally tried to gauge how much it would be to pay for only a small time and hire people to haul the boat and rent more space.

“Four silver it is. Here you are.”

He carefully placed the silver coins into the Dullahan’s waiting palm. She couldn’t nod, but her body performed a kind of half-bow.

“It is accepted. Your name, Human?”

“Luan. Luan Khumalo.”

“You will be recognized by anyone managing the docks if I am not there. Need you further proof, or will name and sight alone suffice?”

“It will suffice. Thank you.”

The Dullahan nodded and then she was gone. Luan checked the knot securing his shell, and then bent to grab his things. He could leave most of it in the vessel; a good harbor left no fear of [Thieves] stealing. But just to be safe, Luan took his most precious gear and his delivery, leaving only the empty water flask and some travel rations in the boat. And then he entered Cinfal.

“Excuse me. Coming through. Runner on a delivery.”

Luan’s first few steps out of the wet harbor and port area was into a market where fresh fish and, predictably, hawkers were waiting. They were hoping to prey on any fresh arrivals with shiny goods or the latest gossip. Directions to a brothel? Sharpen your sword? Like the seasoned [Sailors] and [Travellers], Luan pushed through them with an eye on his belt for stray hands. His cry also abetted the press of bodies somewhat—a Runner had no time to buy knickknacks.

“Which way to the Runner’s Guild? Anyone?”

A dozen hands pointed. Luan hurried down the street, a touch unsteadily since his legs had grown used to the rowing. He made it to the Runner’s Guild quickly though; like any good guild in a port city, it was located near enough to the docks. There was a Lizardgirl receptionist at the desk. She looked up and grinned toothily as Luan came in.

“Hey! You’re that Human I heard so much about! Skin as dark as night and fast as a bird on the water? Luan?”

“That’s me.”

Luan dumped his package on the table. It was mail—and four individual deliveries, all held together in a thick bag. And heavy. The town he’d come from had paid him on top of the four individual deliveries to get to Cinfal fast—the City Runners who went on foot didn’t want to make the difficult journey all the way here, as the foot-route was twice as difficult and long as if you went by ocean.

“Wow! I got a message from Paxil that you were coming with a bunch of mail. Let’s see…four individual deliveries?”

“Right here.”

“Thank you! We’ll get Street Runners on it right away. May I see your runner’s seal? Just a formality. Thank you again! And did you encounter anything of note on your way here?”

“I saw eight Lizardfolk on a canoe. They pushed off a beach and tried to catch me. I wasn’t sure if they were [Bandits], but I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“Ooh. Got it.”

The Lizardgirl noted the information down for any Runners in the area, or law enforcement. Then she smiled at Luan.

“Alright! We’re all set! Your payment for the packages as well as your current unclaimed coin comes to…”

She rummaged for Luan’s file, which was meticulously updated by [Message] spell between the Runner’s Guilds, especially if Luan was in the area. The Lizardgirl blinked and Luan saw her neck frills open for a second in shock.

“A lot, I know.”

He smiled wearily at her. Luan hadn’t been back to Talenqual in a while. He’d gone from city to town to village, doing deliveries nonstop. As such, he had a fairly good idea of what had made her eyes pop.

The Lizardgirl stared at the number again and then coughed. She lowered her volume a tiny bit.

“Fifty four gold coins from all your deliveries. You want it all now? Because I’ll have to open the strongbox to get it all if you do.”

Fifty four coins. Luan’s smile sprang to his lips unbidden. Now that was the fruit of hard work. And from the look a Centaur [Runner] standing at a counter next to him was giving him, it was good even by City Runner standards.

“No. Just…four gold coin’s worth. I’ll pull the rest out when I get home.”

“You got it! Wow. That’s a lot of money. You sure you’re just a City Runner? I heard you can make it from Talenqual to Ravelm in less than two days!”

“I’m hoping to make it to Courier eventually. But a City Runner I am. Thank you.”

Luan accepted the four gold coins from the Lizardgirl and signed the receipt she handed him. She sighed.

“Wow. And you use that tiny boat! Who taught you how to row that well? Lizardfolk? It wasn’t Centaurs, that’s for sure. Right, Minta?”

She laughed and indicated the Centaur. Minta the Centaur didn’t laugh back with her.

“Let’s just say I was pretty good at it back home. One of the best, in fact.”

Luan smiled. The Lizardgirl nodded and didn’t ask for more details. She waved the next Runner in line forwards as Luan strode towards the door.

There went Luan Khumalo. A few of the Runners in the guild knew him, and he thought he recognized a few faces, but it was them knowing him, not the other way around. Because, and Luan was proud of this, Skills or no, he was developing a reputation as an excellent City Runner. Only two months and he’d already made a name for himself.

Luan specialized in lightning-quick deliveries from spot to spot. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d trained to do long-distance rowing. Even with [Greater Endurance] and all his Skills boosting his speed, there was a very hard limit on how far Luan could go. But fast? He could do fast.

“And it’ll be faster still if I can hold onto some of that gold I’ve earned.”

Luan muttered to himself as he pushed out the Runner’s Guild door. Now that he was on land and not in an athlete’s mindless trance, he could think about his future. He’d been mulling over the idea in his head. He was faster than the world record holders in his world already. But he could be even quicker in the water if he had the money to spend.

“Get a boat made of the lightest-weight wood. Sliding seat—and make it actually aerodynamic.”

That meant a proper single scull, long and narrow, not wide, like the one Luan was using. But to have that, he’d need a bag of holding, a good one, to hold his deliveries and other gear.

“And paddles. Lightweight. Made of that good wood the Lizardfolk use. Expensive. And enchanted.”

Yes, enchanted. Paddles enchanted with the [Weight] spell were what he wanted, according to an [Oarsman] he’d spoken with in a tavern. They’d add as much as fifty pounds to each stroke. And a spell could make the boats and oars practically featherweight. Add that to something to put the wind on his side—

Luan wondered if he could actually achieve liftoff with that kind of setup. He sighed happily, and then frowned.

“But that’s hundreds, thousands of gold coins. And from what Paige said, this might be going towards a new apartment for the kids to live in.”

His good spirits sank a bit. But Luan refused to let them sink further. He shook his head.

“Children. They come first.”

Perhaps that was a harsh generalization. But Luan did truly feel like one of a few adults sometimes. Some of the Earthworlders brought over to this one were only fourteen or fifteen. Luan and Geneva were older than they were by a decade. They had to take care of them. And the fifty four gold coins Luan had labored for was a big step in that direction.

“Time to head back to Talenqual. After a good night’s rest. Big dinner. Yeah.”

Luan licked his lips. He was exhausted from nearly a week of non-stop work. Part of him thought it would be best to get back to Talenqual tonight, but he was too tired to contemplate rowing for that long. If he could, he’d have arranged it so Paige could withdraw his earnings at the Runner’s Guild. But they were very careful to make sure a Runner’s hard-earned money wasn’t extorted or stolen from them.

Luan was about to head to the nearest inn and ask about a lovely bed and some food when a thought sprang out to him. Something in the back of his mind.

Children. No, child. Remember.

And then Luan did. The spring in his step faded. His smile vanished.

A sour-faced Dullahan passing by the Human on the street saw Luan’s smile turn into a dour look to rival his own. He stared as Luan’s pace slowed.

Child. His child. Remember it. Aiko’s words bounced around in Luan’s head, along with his inescapable conclusion.

He’d forgot again. Forgot…that he had a child. That he was married.

That they were left behind.

In the bustling streets of Cinfal, right outside the Runner’s Guild, Luan stopped and stared at the sky. Remember them. Remember their faces. Worst yet, you must remember to remember. Because if you don’t—

You’ll forget. Forget as easily as a lost pair of keys, or a missing sock. As if they didn’t matter. As if they never existed. It was the same for Aiko. For everyone, Luan suspected. But he hadn’t brought his conclusion to the attention of the others yet. It was too strange an anomaly to fully understand.

And yet—he was certain it was true. Because Luan kept forgetting his baby’s face. And that—

“No.”

Luan’s fingers dug into his palm. He had to remember. A wild craze swept through him. For a second he wanted to hurl the gold coins in his palm into the face of the Dullahan staring at him. Grab his oars, grab the knife Daly had given him and stab and cut everything around him. Gone. Gone from home and his family!

But that was not the way. Luan relaxed slightly. It was no one’s fault here. No one around him at least. Possibly no one at all was responsible for this. It might just be an accident. If it was the doing of someone, Luan would have vengeance. But if not?

Remember.

Luan walked slowly down the street. He thought of Aiko and what she’d suggested to him.

Yes. No time to go back and tell the others. Luan had to do it today. How long had it been since he’d forgotten this time? Six days? And he’d talked with Aiko, tried to force himself to remember. But the instant he’d stopped repeating the names in his head, capturing the face—it was gone. So, Luan decided to do what he should have done from the start. He turned to the nearest Lizardperson on the street and began to ask directions.

—-

“Hello?”

The Lizardwoman in the small tattoo parlor looked up. She was a Lizardperson. She had scales. Admittedly, there were colorful designs painted on top of the scales, but as [Tattooists] went, Luan was fairly certain that this didn’t recommend her.

He stopped uncertainly in the entrance to the shop. The Lizardwoman’s eyes brightened as she saw what might be her first client in a while wavering. She scrambled out from behind her desk.

“Come in! Welcome, welcome! This is the Inked Scale, the best—and only—tattoo place in Cinfal! You want a tattoo? Have a seat! I’ll get some designs.”

“Ah, no thanks. I just came by to…I’ve got a design.”

“Ooh, really?”

The Lizardwoman stopped fumbling for some sketches. She walked back over to Luan as he walked over to a chair. The shop was very small and quite empty. He saw vials on racks, needles—and brushes.

“You do tattoos here?”

“Oh, sure! Tattoos for the fleshy folk, scale art for anyone who sheds. We even have stuff that keeps away fur if you’ve got body hair. Anything you need I can do! Don’t worry, I get [Sailors] from all over the world in here! Drowned People are the worst, between you and me.”

She winked at Luan. Reassured, the man smiled at her.

“I’m looking for something simple. Ink tattoo. Two words on my right hand. Right here.”

He placed his fingers on his arm, just below the wrist. The Lizardwoman nodded energetically. She already had a very long, very sharp stick of—Luan gave it a second look.

“What is that?”

“What, this? Never seen a tattooing needle before? Don’t worry, I only use the tip.”

The Lizardwoman smiled at Luan. She showed him a long, bamboo stick that had been carved with some extremely sharp points dark with ink. Half of it was lacquered, but the tips—Luan blanched a bit.

He’d seen tattoos being done before, but now that he recalled it, it was always with a tattooing machine. An electronic, handheld, mechanical device. He hadn’t made the obvious connection that no person in this world would have that kind of technology. The Lizardwoman saw he was having second thoughts and tried to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! The ink goes here, see, and the little needles go into your skin and let the ink stain it. It doesn’t hurt—er, much. Not unless the needles are really sharp, and believe me, they’re wicked sharp! Wait, this isn’t reassuring, is it?”

“I’ll…you can give me a tattoo, right? No blood or open wounds?”

“None at all. I’m Level 21. That’s good by our standards. And I’ve got healing potions in case you start bleeding, tons of experience—”

The Lizardwoman reassured Luan. He bit his lip, but he’d come this far.

“Okay. Can you put the names in black ink here? I’ll write them out so you can see the right spelling.”

He wrote carefully on a piece of parchment the Lizardwoman handed to him. She looked at it once, nodded, and then eyed Luan.

“That’s easy. I can have you done quick. But…ink, you said?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

Luan grimaced at his arms. He’d barely see the tattoo. But what other choice was there? Aiko had suggested them as a permanent reminder. The Lizardwoman clearly saw his problem and swished her tail back and forth, but not for the reason Luan was expecting.

“It’s just—I don’t think black ink’s gonna show up well on your skin. You sure you don’t want other colors? Cause we’ve got lots.”

“Other colors?”

Luan looked up with a frown. Wouldn’t they be just as hard to see? But the Lizardwoman was nodding energetically.

“Yeah! What, you thought I’d use natural inks on that skin? No thanks, pal! We’ll use a magical dye—it’s cooler anyways. I can make it glow in the dark, too. What color do you want? White? Red? Pink? Ooh, and look at this. This ink changes color depending on how warm it is. And this ink—”

She showed Luan a rapidly changing ink that flashed from color to color. He blinked at it.

“Uh, no. I’ll take—gold? Do you have—”

The Lizardwoman was already pulling out a golden vial. Literally golden in color. Luan stared at it as the liquid ink rolled back and forth. She eyed him, smiling.

“Glow in the dark? Other effects?”

“No thank you.”

They’d make him too visible at night. Luan nodded as she offered him two more variants on the idea of gold and yellow. Then he frowned.

“How expensive is this?”

“For you and that tattoo? A gold coin. Yeah, I know it’s a bit pricey, but this ink isn’t cheap! Still, you don’t want much—[Sailors] now, they pay for the big stuff. You sure you don’t want your ink to do anything cool? I can make your tattoo change shapes too!”

“No. Just the names.”

“You’re the customer! You have half an hour to do this?”

“Yep. Here’s your payment.”

Luan handed the Lizardwoman a gold coin. She smiled and tucked it into her purse. Then she grabbed the vial and her bamboo needle.

“Here’s the rules: you sit there, I do my work. Don’t move your arm or I’ll have to put it in a clamp. Tell me if it hurts real bad and we can stop. But if you do, I get to tease you, got it? If you start bleeding I’ll use a potion, but I don’t like to do that while tattooing. They mess up the ink sometimes.”

“Got it.”

Luan laid back and put his arm out as the Lizardwoman instructed him. He’d never wanted a tattoo and was afraid of that stick. But the first time she jabbed it into his skin he only flinched a bit. And then the poking pain was a constant, so he quickly relaxed.

To his surprise, the Lizardwoman wasn’t at all chatty while doing her work. She was intent, her eyes focused on the delicate lettering she was writing onto Luan’s skin. And there was also a second reason.

Not five minutes into the tattooing, someone else entered the parlor. The [Tattooist] glanced up, but said not a word. Luan, whose eyes were closed, didn’t look up until he heard some heavy clicks on the floor. Then he looked up and saw a Minotaur standing over him.

“You’re the City Runner who goes by the name of Luan?”

The Minotaur stared down at Luan. The South African man tensed for a second. He couldn’t help it. The Minotaur was something right out of legends. Bull’s head, complete with horns. A humanoid body, heavily muscled but concealed by light Balerosian clothing. And like Centaurs, hooves instead of feet.

Minotaur. But Luan’s paralysis only lasted as long as it took him to realize the Minotaur was speaking English and behaving…like a normal person. Luan realized. Here was another species of this world. The Lizardwoman didn’t even seem bothered by his presence.

And then Luan realized he’d been addressed by name. He frowned up at the Minotaur.

“That’s me. Do I know you?”

He was sure the answer was no. For a reply, the Minotaur pulled up another chair and sat down on Luan’s other side, quite unbidden.

“My name is Venaz. I have an offer to make you, Luan the Runner.”

Luan glanced at the Minotaur, and then at the [Tattooist] who was ignoring both of them. He frowned.

“I’m a bit busy, friend.”

“Which is why I came here. You can’t run away. Hear me out first. I’ve noted your career. You’re Luan. Human affiliated with a new company. United Nations or something. Served in Gravetender’s Fist, a suppression company as a mercenary before becoming a Runner. You’ve served for two months, but you have a number of notable deliveries.”

“Excuse me, I’m busy. If you want to talk, you can find me at the Runner’s Guild—”

Luan spoke up angrily, but Venaz only raised his voice, talking over Luan. He had an imperious nature and Luan gave up trying to interrupt him after five tries.

“—not only considered near Courier-level on that boat in the water, but you’ve done what Runners consider dangerous deliveries. Noticeably, a mission to escort a young Dullahan being pursued by a suitor to her home city, delivering through crocodile-infested waters…does that count? Stupid report. But you did a trip to pick up a Dullahan in the starving city of Phelt before it was wiped clean…”

Luan stared at the Minotaur. Unbidden, the memory surged around him. Dragged him in.

Lizardfolk were friendly, cooperative, and social. They were the most pleasant of folk to be around—until you saw them at their most desperate. Then they were animals, like anyone else.

The desperate Dullahan [Merchant] at the docks. Yanking him on board and then seeing hundreds of slim bodies pouring into the harbor, leaping off the docks as Luan swung the oars and pulled through the water desperately. The Lizardfolk were screaming. They clawed at the boat as the Dullahan kicked their claws off the boat. Luan was struggling, forcing the boat further from the harbor. Only as he fought his craft clear of them did he hear the starving Lizardfolk’s voices.

Take me with you.

Help.

Save my child.

Bring us.

Let us…

Luan jerked. The [Tattooist] must have sensed it, because she stopped just in time. She stared at Luan as Venaz paused. The Human caught his breath. The Lizardwoman grabbed his arm firmly.

“Hold still, please.”

After a second, Luan did. The pain returned. Venaz kept reading as if nothing had happened. But Luan was still remembering Phelt.

Starving people. The town had been raided of food and coin and they had nothing to pay with. So rather than request food, the [Merchant] had bought his own life. Luan hadn’t known. The town was a blip on the map. Luan still remembered them trying to swim after him.

He should have stopped. But they’d eaten all the other non-Lizardfolk in the town already. The Dullahan had survived with an invisibility potion. Luan could remember the Dullahan shaking, talking about it.

Still, he should have slowed. Should have reached for one of the children being held out to him. Should have…

The next day Luan had gone back with as much food as his little vessel could carry. But by that point, cannibalism had turned the townspeople against each other, not just outsiders. Luan had seen the nightmare, dropped the food on what remained of the docks, and fled.

Memory. Luan blinked, and Venaz was still talking. Listing off more of Luan’s accomplishments. How did he know so much? Luan shook his head, which earned him a tut of disapproval from the Lizardwoman.

He needed to go back to the two apartments. Hopefully Geneva would be back. Or Paige. Luan could use time on the impromptu ‘therapy couch’ with one of them listening. The [Rower] glared at Venaz.

“Do you have a point here?”

The Minotaur harrumphed and stopped talking for a moment, which was a relief. The problem was when he started again.

“My point is that I know your capabilities. You’re fast on the water, nearly as fast as a Courier. But you’re not, which suits my needs. I have a job for you. It’s in three weeks. Interested?”

Luan stared at him. He looked around the parlor and then glowered at Venaz.

“You could have put in a request! Asked for me by name. I’d be happy to meet you whenever. This is rude. You are aware?”

His words and look bounced off Venaz’ face. The Minotaur sat back.

“I’m aware of Runner’s Guild protocol, thank you. But I wanted to meet you privately. Putting out a request is blatant. No one’s to know of this conversation taking place.”