Chapter 43: Casual Drinking

The Nokan guards stepped away, bowing in respect as Teragen walked forward. Soon it was only the two of them outside the arena, the street troublingly empty. Rick thought it was just his imagination that the ground shook as Teragen walked forward, but he couldn't escape the feeling.

Rick pulled himself together and took a deep breath, not backing away. The distance between them had definitely decreased, not that it would matter if it came to a fight. But he wasn't expecting a fight.

"Hm." Teragen walked up to face him and simply folded his arms, waiting. Rick hadn't exactly expected that, but he was at least prepared with something he thought might make Teragen stay.

"I've been told that there is no peak of combat ability. Do you agree?"

Teragen regarded him with those unnatural eyes for a long time before speaking. "Lucrim numbers are linear. Power isn't."

"I understand that," Rick said carefully, "but they're telling me that I need to give up everything else to maximize one strength."

"True. Just shortsighted." Teragen's head shifted slightly to the side, regarding him like he was a small animal that had just done something interesting. "Absolute specialists are strong, but they are pets who do tricks for the world's true masters. The Peerless are old and their eyes are dim, but what they maximized was flexibility. Anyone who tells you that power is a single mountain is a fool."

It was the longest speech Rick had ever heard from the warrior. He wanted to take more time to think about it, but fearing that Teragen would get bored, he filed the words away and pressed on. "You aren't the equal to the Peerless, are you?

"No. I stand among those who stand beneath them."

"Then what is it that you seek? To be able to fight them?"

A low rumble turned out to be a chuckle. "I seek strength for myself. That is the only reason to do anything."

Rick almost laughed along, since that was a bit more philosophical than he'd been expecting, but managed to hold back. "Why do you work with Granny Whitney?"

"Resources." It seemed like Teragen would say nothing more, and Rick was puzzled for a moment before Granny Whitney hobbled from out of the tunnel behind them. She gave him a beaming smile as she approached.

"Wonderful to see you again, dearie. And before you upset yourself, you should know that this was nothing but a happy coincidence. My only business with you at the moment is that you're occupying my heavyweight when he should be defending me."

Though Rick wanted to turn and run, he'd known this might happen and just shifted his attention to the old woman. "I won't ask why you're here, if that's going to pull me into another scheme."

"Oh, it's just another little bet with Gerald and Alger. Nothing to concern yourself with, dearie." Granny Whitney beamed at him. "But today's events were becoming so boring. I suggest this: we will amuse one another for a little information over a drink. At the end of it, I will count us as even as we have always been, unless we come to another agreement. Does that seem fair?"

"Sure." Rick assumed that nothing she had anything to do with was remotely fair, but he figured that this was the best choice. If she truly wanted nothing from him, it could be a useful exchange of information. If she did want something, refusal would just provoke her.

"Wonderful!" Granny Whitney clapped her hands together and headed off down the street. "There is a lovely place just down the way. Their drinks are... very discreet."

So just like that, he was having drinks with a crime boss and a dragonweight. Rick tried not to think about the fact and just kept his head around him as they advanced down the Nokan street.

Though most of the buildings were ordinary enough, one of them appeared to be carved directly into the side of a gigantic tree. He could see levels that were nearly hollowed and balconies formed from branches, but they entered on the lowest level and were escorted to a small room without windows.

A waiter appeared beside them almost immediately. Granny Whitney asked for vodka in English, so Rick just asked for local serum. He wasn't sure if she was paying, but that would hopefully be both interesting and inexpensive. Teragen spoke in what must be Nokan and the server immediately bowed away.

"Now, there is just a little information I wouldn't mind getting from you." Granny Whitney leaned forward and clasped her hands over the purse in her lap. "I think you must be familiar with the boy sitting alone on Alger's balcony, simply by fighting in the Showdown together. Do you know much of him?"

"Uh, not very much." Rick didn't want to sell out Raggest, but simply refusing wouldn't go well. "His name is Raggest and he hasn't exactly given much personal information."

"That's the curious thing. Usually Alger picks up mongrels from one street or another who already have training, but this boy seemed to have come from nowhere. It is... puzzling, to say the least. One must wonder whose agent he is, behind the innocent facade."

"I'm not sure there's anything behind any facade. From what I've seen, Raggest lives to train and doesn't care about anything else. He seems to have been working with Alger for a long time. That's about all I know." Hopefully those few details wouldn't cause any problems, but Granny Whitney shook her head slowly.

"Trained by Alger from a young age, perhaps? I didn't think he had the patience, but that would be troubling. That is... an interesting piece of information."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the server, setting down three very different drinks on a tray carved like an elephant. Granny Whitney's vodka was in a spiral-carved glass, Rick's serum bubbled in a glass bottle, and Teragen's drink was some sort of white mist in a wooden cup.

As Granny Whitney took a moment to remove a flask from her purse and pour something bright blue into her drink, Rick realized that he should seize the initiative. He twisted the cap off his serum so it wouldn't be too obvious, but then spoke up first.

"Just what can you give Teragen that he's willing to travel across the world to work for you?"

"Oh, dearie, that's between me and the man himself." Granny Whitney glanced toward Teragen, who gave no response except to take a drink from his cup. "That's a no, I believe. Are you really surprised that a kindly old woman would have a trick or two up her sleeve?"

"Honestly, yes. I'd imagine that anything he needed, he could get from a government, or a group of immortals, or one of the Peerless."

Granny Whitney took a sip from her glass, then set it down and fixed him with a steel gaze. "Would you like for me to explain to you how the world really works, Rick? You're a smart boy, so you shouldn't be blundering around like most of those fools."

"Can you resist the chance to lecture me?" He intended the words to be cutting, but the old woman didn't acknowledge them except to begin speaking.

"The Peerless are the most powerful warriors on Earth, without a doubt, but only if what you need is immense destructive power. They've built organizations and countries around themselves, but those are also bonds. You see, over the years, those great warriors have discovered that they like modernity. Technology and thriving nations have improved their lives in ways that destructive power never could. But if any of them act directly, their peers could take that all away from them."

"Mutually assured destruction."

"Just so, dearie. And honestly, most of them are quite happy with the status quo. Those governments without that raw power try to carve out whatever niche they can, but they're locked into the global stalemate. They either decay into outdated tradition, like Siberia or the Nokan Empire, or they fracture into disagreement."

"So who does control things?" Rick asked. "I know you're not going to say it's you. What about all the corporations?"

"Oh, they certainly represent power in this world. The Global Lucrim Authority controls a great deal, and countless international corporations are truly shaping the lives of the common people. But they move like elemental forces, demanding as much as they give. So, there exists a specific and critical niche: a place for those with power and also the ability to use it freely."

Rick nodded as it came together for him. "Those like you. Or Alger, or the American Basilisk."

"See, you're catching on." Granny Whitney reached out to pat his cheek, then took another sip from her glass. "Alger specializes in working with insane fighters for reasons I've never been able to discover. Gerald represents very traditional organized crime, effective but dull. I may be weaker than Alger and far smaller than the Basilisk's organization, but I've found my own little place in the world."

As he thought it over, Rick finally took a drink from his bottle. The serum tasted good, but to his surprise reminded him of coffee. It was a strange flavor, but he felt the energy rush through him immediately. He wondered what Lisa would make of it, but pushed that distraction aside.

After his drink, he realized a glaring omission. "You didn't say anything about immortals. Or are they the ones leading governments and corporations?"

"Immortals." Granny Whitney snorted. "Some of them are Peerless or CEOs or something else of great import. But far more of them are obsolete relics, wasting their money on email scams and placebo supplements they hope will restore their greatness. Now that they can't control everything around them, they're being left behind."

"That is... certainly a different perspective." Rick took a longer drink, glancing at Teragen and wondering what the warrior thought. He didn't seem inclined to join the conversation, having finished his drink and now sitting silently.

"Now, these remedial lessons have been mildly interesting, but do you have anything else for me? I was wondering what else you could tell me of Alger's movements."

"I honestly don't know very much. The last I encountered him was in Siberia, and that was in public."

Granny Whitney frowned, her eyes glittering sharply. "Don't lie to me, boy."

"Lie to you? Why do you think I would know more?"

"Because you're working with this H fellow. I refuse to believe that no information passes down to you."

"What? That doesn't..." Rick shook his head, not sure if he could have heard correctly or if he wanted to understand. "Alger and H hate each other."

"Is that what they told you?" The old woman shook her head at him sadly. "Then it seems I will repay your information after all. I assure you, the two of them are not enemies. I believe that Alger may have trained H, when he was younger. Are you sure you haven't been deceived?"

The idea was so shocking that he was immediately suspicious of it. Granny Whitney would lie to him in an instant if it would benefit her in the slightest, and he could easily imagine reasons why she might want to make him mistrust H. Or this could be some far more elaborate scheme against Alger in which he was just a playing piece.

Yet the possibility that she was telling the truth stuck in his mind. Against his will, he considered that Alger might not be as mad as he seemed. The strange man would have known that Rick would never willingly work with him, so he might have sent an agent...

"H isn't working for Alger. His patron is an immortal named Josiah Craw." The words sounded weak even to him, and Granny Whitney snorted.

"Josiah is a racist old coot who hasn't been relevant in a century. It would be easy for Alger to convince him to get involved with one of the little immortal games to use him as a front."

"Do you have proof of all of this?" Rick asked. But Granny Whitney simply shook her head, knocked back the entire rest of her vodka at once, and stood up.

"That would exceed the terms of our agreement, dearie. And besides, if you don't really know what you're doing, you could well be used against me. So I hope our little chat has been useful to you, but I will gladly step away from it. Teragen, let us return."

"Not yet." The massive warrior rose, but remained there staring down at Rick. Granny Whitney reversed direction, giving Rick a syrupy smile.

"If you're thinking of using Teragen to train again, I'm afraid I really must stop you. Just sparring with someone like him is worth more than someone like you can afford. Now, if you are willing to make a small agreement regarding Alg-"

"This is personal." Teragen spoke the words quietly, but Rick felt the force within them. Granny Whitney was silent for a moment, then sighed and turned away without another word.

That meant it was only the two of them in the small room. Rick could only dream that one day he might be able to command silence like that. He felt awkward sitting and so stood up, unsure what was to come.

"I expected you to retire or die," Teragen said slowly. "Either the ambition that made you attack me would lead to your death, or you would choose another path. Instead, I find you here. This surprises me, and I am not accustomed to being surprised."

"Uh... is that good or bad?" Though Rick could stare into those molten eyes without freezing or cowering, they were more than a little unnerving.

"It is interesting, which is neither. But I have chosen to help you take a small step forward. I hope that you have a better idea than being beaten half to death."

"Well, I don't have any Deathbane anyway." It wasn't really a joke, but he said it anyway. Though Rick had been hoping that Teragen might be willing to help him, now that he finally reached that point, he had trouble getting his thoughts out. "...my best Lucore is something called the Triune Golden Spheres. With exposure to your lucrim, it c-"

"No. It is a tool, and you are not your tools." Teragen stared down at him without any expression, but Rick knew that refusal would never budge. He'd been afraid of that, but he had a second choice.

"I have a foundation called the Dark Blood Kettle that develops along with me. I'm unclear on the exact mechanism, but it's never encountered someone as strong as you. I was wondering... well...

"Hm. Interesting."

Without warning, Teragen reached forward, grasping Rick's face as if to crush his head in one hand. There was no pressure, just an immense rush of power so intense that Rick couldn't have said if it was lucrim, aura, or ether. All he knew was that he felt as though his head was being scoured clean from the inside by green fire.

When he could see again, he had slumped against one of the walls and Teragen was gone. Rick could feel that his defensive cores were scorched and all excess lucrim had been burned away. But strangest of all, the Dark Blood Kettle seemed to be boiling.

Most likely, that was a good thing. It was the only part of Rick's life that he was sure about, because when he considered everything Granny Whitney had said, he was left with nothing but difficult questions.