Engineered Magic

37 AL: Grandmother

It was dark. After the ruined greenspace none of the light panels worked automatically. They turned them on as they moved in order to light the way. Grandmother knew they were getting close to the edge when some panels refused to turn on even after being hit by a spell. Everyone was grateful for the food they packed. They didn’t see even a single rat during the last three days of travel. Grandmother suspected it was her new high tier that was holding them away.

Somewhere during those days of travel they lost track of sunrise and sunset without the daily light cycle. Grandmother thought it was only late afternoon but their first look outside showed it was well past sunset. It was cold and a light snow was falling.

“Is that snow?” Todd asked.

“Yes,” Grandmother replied. She remembered trying to explain snow to them earlier and their disbelief that such a thing could exist. This would make them believe her a little easier. She would have to be careful to not take advantage of that.

“Let’s go back inside for the night,” Grandmother instructed. The party turned around and headed back into the structure. She stopped at the first intact door on the left. She pushed the door open, alert for any danger.

Beyond the door were five rooms connected together. The spaces were filthy and littered with both debris and scrap. Not that debris couldn’t be used as scrap. Scrap was an integrated product that could be picked up and held in inventory, while debris was a physical item.

Grandmother told Ellen to cast her new clean spell on each of the rooms. She started with the rooms farthest from the door and worked her way back to the hallway. Ellen’s clean was weaker than Grandmother’s. It took her multiple casts in each room. The clean spell left the debris looking bright and polished, while the scrap was unchanged. Sarah was sent around to pick up all the scrap. It vanished into the girl's inventory with a touch of her hand.

Along the inside wall of the back room, behind a pile of debris was a prize altar. Grandmother was surprised to see it so close to the entrance. When she touched its surface the display opened automatically on the conversion screen. She looked down and saw that a piece of the debris was strategically placed on the input/output shelf. A quick study of the icons showed it would convert the debris to iron scrap and put it into her inventory.

She already carried enough scrap in her inventory. The inventory system showed a pile of items up to thirty six. After that it added a number after the image to give the exact amount. The different scrap icons in her inventory were followed by long sequences of numbers after them. Numbers after six were written sort of like Roman numbers with zeros used as separators. It used the separators because there were only seven symbols. Where Roman numerals used a new symbol for larger numbers, the structure number system used combinations of six’s with zero following. Grandmother always got a headache trying to figure out any number past two hundred and sixteen, or six times six times six. All she could really say was the numbers next to the scrap icons were very large.

She deactivated the altar without making the conversion. She assigned that task to Todd and Alex. They would take turns carrying debris and working the altar. When the debris was converted, it would sink down into the surface of the altar and vanish. Anything that couldn’t be converted was stacked in a corner of the first room out of the way. Grandmother didn’t expect any items this close to the entrance.

Grandmother set herself the task of locking down the vents. She closed the vent covers and locked them into place with fork pins she carried with her. Grandmother cast reinforcement on the vents to ensure they were solid. She would need to recast it if they stayed longer. The pins along with door wedges were stored in the pockets made by the double layers of her backpack. When Ellen saw where Grandmother was getting the pins she was fascinated. She took some time studying the construction of the pack.

Grandmother was making this location secure because she was uncertain how long they would stay here. She did not relish walking through the snow. She was willing to wait until they ran low on food or water in the hopes there would be a thaw.

She wedged the outer door open and moved to the inner room with the altar for the night. She cast one last clean before settling down on the floor. The altar gleamed. As Grandmother looked at it, the cuts in the stone that made up its design became crisper. It was like the magic of the spell energized the altar.

These rooms were set up to teach people about the scrap, debris and the altars. If the first explorers saw it they didn’t report it back. Those explorers wouldn’t have any nanobots yet, so even if they found the altar they would not have been able to use it. They also wouldn’t have seen the scrap, only the debris.

Everyone finished their tasks and settled down onto the floor of the room. They oriented themselves so they could keep an eye on the entrance, except for Sarah. Ellen settled the young girl against the back wall, with everyone else between the girl and the doorway.

There was always the possibility that the altar was not here then the exploration teams came through, Grandmother mused. She knew the structure could change. She thought the points an altar could appear were fixed. The debris looked like it melted into the altar top but that was just animation. The debris was actually dropped into a material chute and was carried away. The material transfer path must exist underneath where an altar was placed. The changing statues must use similar material chutes built into the floor.

“When we first came to this world and found the structure, we thought it was the ruins of a lost civilization,” Grandmother said aloud. “We didn’t expect to find any civilization here, living or dead. There were no archaeologists among us. So we didn’t have a defined method for our exploration.”

“What is an archaeologist?” Ellen asked.

“A person who learns about the past by studying the things left behind,” Grandmother answered. “It doesn’t matter because the structure isn’t a ruin. Although when we arrived, this entrance hadn’t been used in a long time and most of its technology was inactive.”

“What is technology?” Alex asked this time.

“That is harder to explain. That prize altar there is technology. The light panels are technology. Do you remember when you asked me where magic comes from? Well magic comes from technology. Technology that is embedded into the fabric of the structure. Most of what you credit to Control is technology. I am afraid that when I say that you think it all comes from some god or is a god. Technology is not that. Technology is a device, designed and built by someone mortal. Control itself is a type of technology.”

“You are saying that Control is the product of a crafter?” Ellen asked, trying to get an angle on the concept she could understand.

“Yes,” Grandmother responded. “When we get to where we are going I can show you examples that should explain it better. The technology in the structure is very advanced and long lasting. It has continued to function long past the death of its crafter. Part of how it lasted so long is that it has a power save or rest mode. When the first explorers entered the structure this section was mostly asleep. That meant that the first explorers missed the early lessons in how magic and the structure works. In return they didn’t give the right responses to Control. That and a couple other unfortunate circumstances made Control treat us as just another animal incapable of playing the game.”

“The game?” Todd asked.

“Yes,” Grandmother said. “I have heard dozens of theories about what this place is. From an alternate life choice to a trap. I think it is a game. It is more dangerous and violent than you might expect a game to be. I think some of that might be a mismatch between us and the beings the game was actually designed for. It was always dangerous. The existence of healing spells means that even the original players were hurt.” Grandmother observed. “Control’s purpose is not to kill us. It isn’t that simple.”

“Why do you think that?” Todd demanded.

“When you hit something with a fireball, it is not the ball that causes the burning. A fireball in the air is just an illusion. That is why people will say that wizard fire doesn’t burn, only the real fire it starts does. The real fire is started by technology that has infiltrated the target. That technology is already in everything and everyone. Magic is the system that turns it on and off at the signal you give when you cast a spell. The logical conclusion is that Control could kill every single thing inside the structure at any moment but it chooses not to,” Grandmother explained.

“Instead the structure is filled with clues, tests and challenges. The animals are unnaturally aggressive, migrations are a recurring threat to safety, even the healing addiction can be viewed as a challenge. It is a challenge that many of us have failed. Although again that might just be a mismatch between humans and the original players,” Grandmother observed.

“So Control makes magic work?” Ellen asked.

“Among other things,” Grandmother responded. “Control controls the technology in the structure, that is why we call it Control. In addition,” Grandmother continued, “it uses that technology in a way to develop and direct the narrative.”

“If the structure is a game,” Todd asked suddenly, “how do you win it?”

“And what do you win?” Alex added.

“I don’t know,” Grandmother replied. “If anyone has managed to win they haven’t come back to tell us how they did it or what the prize was. Ever since I reached tier four, Control has been trying to push me south. If you want answers to those questions I would recommend starting there.”

“My Gran went south,” Alex announced. “She didn’t return.”

“It is very dangerous,” Grandmother responded. “I gave it a solo try a couple years ago and was lucky to get away alive. I recommend taking trusted companions with you.”

“Aren’t you going to try again?” Sarah asked from behind Ellen. Grandmother thought the girl was already asleep.

“Probably,” Grandmother replied. “When I first got back I swore to myself I would never go there again. Since then I have worked hard to discover and master new spells in preparation for another run. I have seen things, especially in the north, that make me believe that Control still hasn’t decided if we are players or not. I think it is essential for all of us that someone tries again.”

“What kind of things?” Todd asked.

“Changes in how people behave that I am not certain can be explained by their changed living conditions or even the healing addiction. When the human population falls below a certain threshold, the birth rate explodes. There have been more multiple births here in the structure than in any of the records from the old world for the same number of people,” Grandmother commented. “There were multiple births in the early days too but that seemed to stop when people learned magic. I think that was when Control started to consider that we might be players.”

“My father talked about it,” Ellen said. “It was part of the reason he chose south to find a new square. He said young people were starting to think differently. He told me it was especially bad farther north in Chicago. He thought it was a result of wizard rule.”

“I think Chicago is worse because the settlement wasn’t based in a square. The people there secured and settled rooms just like these,” Grandmother replied, with a gesture at the room they sat in. “That is fine for a night or two but staying in them long term is the behavior of rats and badgers. I think acting like an animal leads Control to put humans into the same classification.”

“So you think that acting like a player will swing the pendulum the other way. That Control will see us as players,” Todd commented.

“Yes,” Grandmother responded. “Your group went south and settled into a potential square. You started training and faced the migration challenges. Those are the actions of players preparing a stronghold for the push south. Control started treating you as players. When it realized you might not survive the final migration wave it set up hints that pushed me in your direction. The narrative of ‘and then they all died’ might be acceptable but it is not the type of choice Control prefers. It prefers long drawn out sagas where there is at least one survivor that can carry the epic on. That way the death of thousands might become the backstory for the hero or villain of the next piece.”

“That doesn’t sound very reassuring,” Todd commented.

“It is better than how animals are treated. Animals don’t need a narrative. They are tools used to progress the narrative for the players. What I fear most is that if Control decides we are animals it will make us into them. In the south I fought bears that walked on their hind legs and carried weapons. They ran to combat with the same single mindedness as the animals in a migration do. Think about how useful Control will find the human animal,” Grandmother observed.

Todd ran a hand across his abdomen where the standing bear on the stairs cut him open. It did that with just its claws, Todd was wondering how much more deadly an armed bear would be.

“What weapons?” Alex asked.

“Short swords and crossbows,” Grandmother elaborated.

“Bows?” Alex echoed. “Really?” He could see the big beasts swinging a sword but any kind of bow required a dexterity he didn’t think the animals possessed.

“I took a crossbolt to my shoulder. Untreated it would have killed me eventually. Luckily I discovered a rest with a glass door two days before that. I managed to get back there before I tried to heal it,” Grandmother explained.

“It is possible to heal yourself?” Ellen said excitedly.

“Yes,” Grandmother responded. “But the experience is something beyond pain. I have only healed myself four times and the first time was an experiment to see if it could be done. Each time I lost consciousness. The longest time was for three days. When I woke up I was very close to dying from dehydration. Don’t try it unless you are in a secure location, otherwise any rat wandering by will kill you.”

Ellen’s eyes widened at this description, her excitement fading. She considered Grandmother’s words. By Grandmother’s own count the ability saved her life three times. That seemed like something that was worth learning how to do.