The World Which Is

The door to the house closes. Dad must have slammed it for me to hear it in my room.

I’ve had thirty minutes to prepare my defense, and all I have is that Dad’s being an asshole and hypocrite in trying to control my life. I don’t care if it’s because he wants me safe. It’s not his decision to make now that I have a class.

Of course, it’s not like he’s going to care about that. He’s going to keep treating me like I’m some classless kid who doesn’t know anything.

My best course of action right now is to keep my mouth shut when he storms into my room and screams all the ways I’m hurting him by not blindly going along with what he wants. Meekly nods and after that, figure out what I’m going to do.

So, I sit here waiting. And waiting some more. A treen passes, then another without him bursting in my room, and I can’t tell if he’s letting me stew, so I’ll imagine even worse things than him somehow being able to make me classless. Or if he’s actually taking the time to calm down.

After another one, I get off the bed and crack my door open.

Silence.

No my dad shifting about as he… I don’t know, works on something to calm himself in his room. No him in the kitchen puttering about. No him anywhere in the house. I guess I didn’t hear him close the door on his way out.

It would have been nice of him to at least tell me he was leaving, instead of letting me worry.

Which might have been what he was after.

I get a tall glass of orange juice and ponder what I’m going to do as I drink it. He’s at work, which means that so long as I’m here for lunch, because I just know he’s going to come check on me, I should be fine. After that, it’s about being here before dinner.

It would be nice to have Francis teaching me for the boosts to my learning, but any practice is good practice with the system. I wash the glass and put it away and head for the door.

Which doesn’t open.

“I’m sorry,” Base says. “Your father made it clear I’m not allowed to let you out under any circumstances.”

I rest my head against the door. “What if I burn down the place?” I ask, not entirely sure how serious I am.

Base chuckles. “You can’t keep a fire going inside my walls if I don’t want it to.”

“It’s not fair,” I grumble.

“I know.”

“Why are you going along with him?”

The sigh is long. “As much as I like to think I am, I’m not like you. I’m the system that runs the base, and the Commander can give me orders that I have to obey. One such order he gave me a long time ago; when William needed the comfort the control over me gave him. Is that I have to do what his son told me to. No playing around with interpretations, no looking for loopholes. I have to obey. I’ve pointed out that he’s old enough he doesn’t need it anymore, but the Commander hasn’t revoked the order.”

“You use loopholes with my father,” I point out. “That’s how Rich got me out without you raising the alarm.”

“The fact I can’t go looking for them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Richard is extremely skilled at finding loopholes and exploiting them.”

I nod. “What did my dad order you to do, exactly.”

“You aren’t to let Dennis out,” my father’s voice sounds, “under any fucking circumstances. I don’t care if God shows up in person and tells you to do it; my son is to remain inside until I say otherwise.”

“What if I’m not fucking?” I try.

Bases chuckles. “That’s not what it means, and we both know it.”

I lean against the door and push the disappointment aside. “Okay. That is all Dad said, right? Nothing you’re keeping back to surprise me with?”

“That is all he said,” Base answers cautiously.

“Then, can you make me a room long enough I can practice my archery in? If I’m going to be stuck in here, I might as well do something with my time.”

“I can do that.” He’s still cautious. “If your father finds out…”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I am concerned he’s going to ask what you got up to while he was away.”

“Lie.”

“Dennis, I—”

“Don’t try it. You’ve lied to him before.”

“I’ve skirted the truth. That isn’t the same thing.”

I snort. “Fine. What did I do for two hours in my room?”

“You moped.”

“Then tell him that. It’s not lying, since I did it.”

“And if he asks for an hour by hour rundown?”

“Then you blame me. He’s already going to scream at me at some point. What is he going to care if it’s about yet one more way I’m making his life miserable?” I head for my room, and there’s a new door at the back. On the other side there’s a long room, plain gray walls with a line of lights at the edge of it and the ceiling giving out a uniform glow. Next to the door, a table with arrows, and at the back, is a target for me to miss.

“Tell me when Dad leaves his workshop for lunch.”

Man, do I miss that target a lot.

* * * * *

I shower as soon as Base tells me Dad’s on his way, then sit on my bed and go back to moping. The door’s gone, so Dad’s going to have to ask very direct questions to get Base to tell him exactly what I was up to in the last hour and a half.

I can just make out the door closing because I’m listening for it. Dad’s indistinctly muffled voice, then silence. My door doesn’t burst open, so I guess he didn’t ask the right questions to find out what I did.

“He left,” Base tells me half an hour later. “He just asked where you were.”

I head for the back wall, and the door reappears. “I guess he’s waiting for dinner.” I nock an arrow in place and aim.

* * * * *

You have gained a level. You are now level 4 in Archery

My satisfaction is tempered by the ache in my arms and shoulders and lower back. Holding the correct position for each shot takes a lot more out of me than it felt like when Francis was showing me.

My arm shakes as I pull on the string, and the arrow misses the target by a meter. I take another one and…

“Why is this so boring?” I force myself to nock it. My stamina’s only slightly below half, so I’m not going to be penalized yet.

“At this level of training, it’s all about doing the same thing over and over so you’ll master the basics.”

“You’re repeating what Francis said.” I take my time aiming. “And learning sword fighting wasn’t this boring even at low level.” The string slips from my fingers and the arrow careens off course.

“You were with others, and you weren’t training one thing to the exclusion of the others. You had shield practice, hand to hand, strength, agility, and academic classes.”

“You’re saying I need a break.”

“How much willpower do you have left?”

“I didn’t—” How did I not notice it was being used up? “This is physical exercise.”

“Which you’ve forced yourself to continue, in spite of the boredom and physical strain you’re feeling. Willpower isn’t just for willing away certain debuffs, you know. Anytime you feel like quitting, but you don’t, you’ve used some of it.”

“Feels like something I should have been taught.”

“You were,” He chuckles. “It’s part of the classes. But you, like just about everyone else, ignore willpower until you have no choice but to pay attention to it. It’s what would be called a dump stat, back in the days of Table Tops.”

“Are there ways to train it?”

“There is, and pushing to continue when you feel like stopping is one.”

Considering that six points in it made the difference between me dying and not, maybe I should work on that.

I look at the arrows and the ache in my arms increase at the idea of picking one up. Maybe it’s because my willpower’s so low now, but I send the bow to my inventory. “I think I’m done with this for now.”

I grab another shower, then head to the kitchen and hesitate, looking at the jar of cookies. I really want one. But if I hold back, isn’t that going to help train my willpower?

I take two and head back to my room. Not depriving myself of that just to practice a skill.

I open Aaron’s journal and look at the maps. The first one has the power station marked on it. Toronto, Detroit, Indianapolis, St-Louis, and Kansas City are also marked, with a route going from one to the other. I’ve heard of Detroit before, but I don’t remember who or what they said about it. Kansas City is the quest’s destination. So I’m guessing St-Louis and Indianapolis will be places I’ll cross on the way. Probably important ones, if Aaron noted them. Along the route are other marks. Three or four lines inside a circle. They look hurriedly drawn. In fact, the whole map looks like it was done quickly. The names are messily written; the route drawn as straight lines between each point when even a quick look at the next map shows they usually flow around. Probably a better representation of the actual route.

As for the circles with lines in them, I don’t find that on the other maps, and I don’t identify any of them as matching part of this one. Maybe they’re the points of interests Aaron mentioned he marked, but they aren’t giving me details as to what they are.

“You’re father’s on his way home.”

I startle and send the journal away, then catch my breath. That was Base talking. And if Dad’s leaving now, I have just over a treen minutes until he gets here. I head for the kitchen to start working on dinner and stop. I tell myself Dad can damn well make his own meal when he gets home. And then I go and get food ready.

Yeah, I’m not going to be raising my willpower anytime soon the way I’m going.

* * * * *

Dinner is tense, but silent.

Dad’s motions are sharp as he eats, and he barely looks in my direction. I didn’t even get a grunt of acknowledgment when I served him. I’m not speaking, because if I can avoid being screamed at, I’m going to take it. I’ll even take being glowered at over that.

I finish, wash and put away my dishes, and still not one word from Dad. He eyes me when I leave the kitchen, but goes back to his food when I head for my room. He probably expected me to make a run for the outside or something. As if him being here meant Base would forget his orders.

I lock my door and take Aaron’s journal out, looking over the maps of all the places he visited.

He was lucky. He didn’t have a dad shackling him in place.