Monroe

Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-One. Vacation time!

Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-One. Vacation time!

Bob shook his head as he swept his gaze from the cerulean sea, up the pristine beach, over the treeline, finally focusing on the ruins of the resort atop the hill. "I'm surprised it hasn't been repaired or rebuilt," he murmured.

"Tourism hasn't been a priority," said the resort owner, a man named Steve. "The complete collapse of every currency and its subsequent replacement with mana crystals hasn't been kind to us. We repaired the runways, but we see two planes a month, and those are ones the Island has chartered to bring in electronic components. You'll be the fourth group of tourists we've hosted in the almost two years since the apocalypse."

Steve sighed. "I'm afraid I can't offer much in the lines of accommodations, and I certainly don't have a tent large enough for your entire group. I do have several twelve person cabin tents, which are really more appropriate for four, less if you want to spread out. We do still have all of our surfing, snorkeling, and diving equipment."

"That's not a problem," Bob replied. "We have the right gear to camp on the beach."

"Due to our commercial kitchen remaining undamaged, we serve as the community table for this area," Steve continued. "We serve breakfast between six and ten am, then lunch between noon and four pm, then dinner between six and ten pm. The bar is open from eight pm until two am. Neither of them have moved, and you've been here before, so you shouldn't have any trouble finding them." He smiled, "when in doubt, just follow the crowd."

"I'm sure we won't have any problems," Bob said.

"Finally, if you do go in the water, please be aware that quite a few of our residents have chosen to evolve into a more amphibious form," Steve explained. "If you see someone swimming around below the waves without any scuba gear, don't be alarmed."

Bob smiled. "We've all spent time on Thayland," he assured Steve. "I'm certain they aren't anymore startling the Elemental Touched or Draconians."

"I'm sure, but one of the other groups of tourists we hosted had a rather unpleasant reaction," Steve explained. "I'd like to avoid any more speargun related incidents."

"So, two weeks at five crystals per day, per person," Bob said as he reached into his satchel, then paused as Steve coughed.

"Actually, we're going to need to triple the cost of the meals," Steve said apologetically. "We didn't know how, well, big you were."

"That's fair," Bob agreed. "So call it eleven crystals a day per person, we have fourteen of us, for two weeks, that's two thousand one hundred and fifty-six crystals."

He pulled the crystals out of his satchel and poured them out onto the counter of the tiki bar. "Do you have a scale?" Bob asked. "It's a lot easier to weigh them than it is to count them."

Bob looked at his Summoner's Redoubt, marvelling at the change.

The first time he'd used the skill, it had provided a canvas tent with no floor. Of course, his summon mana-infused object spell had been level eight at the time. With that spell at level eighty, there were some key differences.

The Summoner's Redoubt looked like nothing so much as stretch of boulders running down the beach and into the water, forming a jetty. It was impossible, at a glance, to see it as anything else. He stepped into the one of the entrances as the top of the beach, seemingly solid stone parting like the mesh screen it actually was. A hallway made of lightly textured stone provided enough grip to prevent wet feet from sleeping, but wasn't so rough as to offer any discomfort to those who wished to go barefoot. The walls were coarse stone, the natural color gradation swirling to hint at mosaics. The ceiling appeared to be a thin sheet of obsidian, allowing sunlight to pass through, while still offering protection from the sun's rays. There were doors evenly spaced along the hallway, ten of them in total, while the hallway itself opened up into a large lounge, complete with tables, chairs, and a massive window across the back of the room that offered a stunning view of the ocean.

He opened a portal and fell through it into the cabin of the Freedom. "I've got everything setup, let's go get settled in," he said as he opened a new portal, going back to the Redoubt and holding the portal open for his friends to follow.

"This doesn't look like the resort," Amanda said as they emerged into the lounge.

"Apparently the resort fell victim to the monsters during the integration, and due to a lack of tourism, they haven't rebuilt it, so we'll be staying in the Redoubt," Bob explained.

"Wow, that's one hell of a view," Mike said as he looked through the window.

"The good news is that we're the only tourists here," Bob said.

"More ocean for us," Amanda grinned and looked down the hallway. "I'm guessing our rooms are down there?"

"Yep," Bob nodded.

"Oh, we have our names engraved on the doors, fancy!" Eddi called from down the hallway.

Bob settled down into a comfortable chair, while Monroe sprawled out next to him on a slightly raised platform that had clearly been designed to act as a coffee table, and was therefore the perfect place for a kitty to occupy, what with it not being intended for his use.

He didn't have anything to unpack. He was perfectly comfortable living out of his inventory, and in this instance, it only had to serve as a closet.

"I'll admit that when I first saw it, I thought that the Summoner's Redoubt kind of sucked," Dave said as he walked back into the room and fell into a chair. "I have to admit, I was dead wrong. You just needed some levels."

"It is nice," Bob agreed. "I've been watching the skill, and it has a lot more in common with ritual magic than it does battle magic. It requires a hundred seconds to cast, but it doesn't require any mana crystals." He shook his head. "When I finally get the chance, I'll spend some time trying to reverse engineer it. I bet there are a lot of ways that techique could be applied."

"We're off the clock, no shop talk," Amanda said as she sat down next to Dave.

Bob was about to reply when his cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, and caller id wasn't providing a name.

"Hello?" He answered the call.

"Mr. Whitman?" A man asked.

"Yes?" Bob replied.

"Oh, good, we got the right number," the man began. "You wouldn't believe the hoops you have to jump through to get someone's number, you know? I mean just reams of forms and then you have to wait for it to through all the channels and then you realize 'hey, why don't we just go through the phone companies records directly?' It's crazy how you can have these blind spots, right? I mean, I know we can do that, but I was following the checklist."

"Ok," Bob said slowly.

"Ah, sorry, yeah, anyway, I'm Alex, and I'm really excited that you're back on Earth, I bet the data you've collected is going to provide so many exciting avenues for research."

"I don't know you," Bob said.

"I'm Alex, Alex Thompson," the man said, surprise evident in his voice.

"That doesn't mean anything to me because I don't know you," Bob replied.

"I'm a project lead here at DARPA, we leant you those armbands?" Alex said, sounding unsure of himself.

Bob looked over at Jack, who was carefully applying sunscreen, no doubt in preparation for hitting the beach.

"Jack, I thought you bought these things?" Bob asked, pointing at his armband.

"Well, less bought and more of borrowed?" Jack replied.

"I've got someone named Alex Thompson on the phone?" Bob waved his phone in the air.

"Yeah, he's the guy I got them from," Jack said agreeably.

"Shouldn't he be calling you then?" Bob asked.

"Nah, he wouldn't have given them to me, I told him they were for you," Jack replied as he pulled on a hat.

"Hold up," Bob raised his hand. "Before anyone hits the beach or the water, we have to talk about the mermaids."

"Mermaids?"

Bob put the phone back up to his ear. "Ok, so yes, I have your armbands. They're working great, by the way."

"Did you just say mermaids?" Alex asked.

"I did," Bob agreed.

"That's awesome! I knew it was a possibility, I mean it totally makes sense, there is plenty of evidence, genetically speaking, that humans could have easily gone a more aquatic route, although I for one am super grateful we didn't, I mean sure the ocean is nice, but I like netflix, you know? Electricity and salt water do not mix, let me tell you, a buddy of mine had a saltwater aquarium, and we were using his living room as a work space after they kicked us out of the lab for blowing a hole in the floor, and he knocked a transformer into it. Those fish were super dead."

"What did you want to know about the armbands?" Bob asked.

"Sorry, sorry, yeah, um the armbands, right. I want to collect the data from them. Any chance you're still around Caltech?"

"No, I'm in Hawaii," Bob replied.

"I guess if there were mermaids at Venice beach I'd have heard about them," Alex said, disappointment in his voice. "Are you coming back anytime soon?"

"I honestly hadn't planned to," Bob said.

"Shit, are you heading off to another universe again? Because as awesome as that data would be, it doesn't do us any good if we never actually get it," Alex muttered, and Bob could hear the sound of a keyboard.

"Yes, I'll be heading to another universe," Bob said cautiously.

"Fuck it, I've got five years of vacation time, they can bite me. I'll call you when I get there," Alex said, and the call ended.

Bob held the phone at arm's length and looked at it suspiciously.

"Does DARPA do any research in pharmaceuticals?" Bob asked the room.

"Sure," Dave replied. "They've been trying to chemically enhance soldiers forever."

"Alex isn't on anything, or at least he never has been before, he's just got no filter between his brain and his mouth," Jack said.

"I think he's planning to fly out here so he can pull some data from our armbands, and it's the second part of that statement that I'm worried about," Bob shook his head. "There are some things that I'm not interested in sharing with any government agency."

"It's just our scanning data," Jack said.

"Are you sure about that?" Bob asked.

"Well, I was until you said that," Jack grumbled.

"Armbands aside, because we're on vacation and that's a little to close to work, yeah? How about we take a minute to talk about the mermaids in the water?" Jessica asked.

"Some of the locals evolved," Bob shrugged. "If we're diving or swimming and you see someone under water without scuba gear, don't worry about it."

Amanda shook her head sadly. "I swear you're such a muggle sometimes," she complained. "You're taking the magic out of magic. What do they look like? Do they live under the waves? What are their voices like?"

"I bet they don't have any hair," Wayna said knowingly. "Hair isn't very useful under the water."

Bob leaned back in his chair, smiling, and closed his eyes as he focused on the sound of the waves as his friends began to debate the pros and cons of hypothetical mermaid physiology.

Having a high Intelligence and a high Wisdom did not make you any smarter. It let you process information more quickly and make connections more easily, but it didn't actually make you any brighter. It did have a positive effect on memory, allowing for near perfect recall, but what it did not do was bring that information to the forefront of your thoughts.

When the System had updated, it had provided Bob with a slew of achievements, most of which he could remember without having to think about them. It shamed him to admit that he was quite as conscious of Monroe's achievements.

Specifically, he was considering Monroe's Savior achievement.

Savior.

Upon discovering that billions of potentially efficient circulators of energy would be rendered inert, you aided your favorite servant in leading them to shelter within the System. You were present at every point of the developing operation to rescue these valuable resources, and your presence influenced other users to aid you. You have indirectly saved the lives of eight billion sapient beings. These actions have increased the value of this Achievement.

Reward: Your coat will never tangle again.

Reward: Your coat will resist any substance that attempts to adhere to it.

Reward: Your teeth and claws are perfect. Inceases damage dealt by them by your tier in percent.

It turned out that water adhered before saturating, which meant that Monroe literally couldn't get wet. At least his coat couldn't. This had apparently been the obstacle preventing the mighty hunter from truly enjoying the wonders of the ocean, and he'd demonstrated the same aptitude for swimming and diving as a jaguar, proving that all housecats were really big cats who hadn't hit their growth spurt yet.

Bob was drawn from his thoughts as the young woman in front of her finally stopped ranting.

"I'm sorry," Bob said, for the eighth time. "We were unaware that anyone was effectively ranching the fish? Monroe saw what he identified as dinner and went after it. I'll be more than happy to pay for it."

"There isn't any paying for it, that was prime breeding stock! She was almost old enough to start carrying eggs!" The young woman shook her head. "It'll take me a year to raise another one."

"You're using magic to grow them, right?" Bob asked.

"Of course," she huffed.

"Here's a thousand mana crystals, again, I'm really sorry, and I'll keep him away from your fish pasture from now on," Bob said, cutting her off before she could get going again by dumping a thousand mana crystals in front of her.

Pausing only to stuff Monroe, along with the twenty-foot long fish he had drug up on the beach, into his inventory, he made a run for it, making it twenty more feet before he fell through a portal, landing back in the Redoubt.

"Did you just run away from a teenage girl?" Jack asked.

"I'm not good with kids," Bob replied.

"You're an awesome Shepherd," Eddi disagreed.

"She just kept saying the same things over and over again," Bob grumbled as he settled down into his chair. "She wouldn't take I'm sorry for an answer."

"She was trying to get you to offer a date to make up for it," Amanda giggled. "It was sort of cute how frustrated she was getting when you didn't get the hint."

"She's a kid," Bob protested.

"She's probably sixteen, and you look like you're eighteen," Amanda countered.

"Sixteen is a kid, and I'm not eighteen, I'm thirty-two," Bob replied.

"If you'd somehow worked that into the conversation, you would have gotten out of there ten minutes sooner and for nine hundred fewer crystals," Dave observed.

"The whole being young again thing is a little bit weird. I mean, have you seen the Queen?" Jack shook his head. "Hard to reconcile her appearance with her actual age. It's going to make dating a little difficult."

"No kidding," Mike grumbled. Annisa was making the push to tier eight, and hadn't wanted to pause for the vacation. She'd been tier seven for decades, but when Mike had hit tier eight, she'd become determined to keep up with him.

"Well, at least I know what those weird buoys were for now," Bob sighed. "Now I just need to explain it to Monroe."