Making haste was difficult with a child in tow, no matter obedient. They got distracted and curious, needed to stop more frequently to use the bathroom, and Uari also hadn't been able to help answering her numerous questions and showing her new things.
The last one was entirely his fault, and likely the real reason why they were actually taking as long as they did.
Days together and he had yet to explain that he didn't remember her, and didn't know her name either. He couldn't remember how they'd met, or why she was important to him--just that she was, and he would fight anyone who tried to convince him otherwise. He had to trust Old Uari to that extent, at least, even if they sometimes didn't agree in terms of their moral inclinations.
Despite circumstances being a matter of their survival, they took about one and a half times as long as he and Wizah had to return back to the city. Uari studiously avoided his apartment and made a beeline straight for the reluctantly-empty clinic on the outskirts of the slums.
He had turned their next steps over in his mind as they journeyed, and had come to the same conclusion multiple times: he would need to assault the 'base' again. The significant presence of members obviously 'in-the-know' meant that it was his best chance of getting more information about Old Uari and his mission.
Once he had that information, he could decide what he wanted to do next, as New Uari.
With that said, he couldn't attack the base with a child on his hip. He also needed more supplies but was quickly running out of funds.
They spent the night at Wizah's, ransacking her spoiling fridge and sleeping in her creaky bed. A relief, really, after days of hard ground and caves.
He needed to do three things while he was back: get money, rob Gaunt Man, and get someone to take care of his daughter.
#1 and #2 seemed relatively straightforward, but he didn't dare tackle them until he had figured out #3. Scrolling through Wizah's Interface--she hadn't come online for the better part of the last week and a half--was depressing, but an idea struck him as he was reading her patient case notes.
He had been thinking like a poor fool this entire time; there was an entire treasure trove of natural materials in his apartment, so there was no reason he couldn't sell everything and live off those earnings for the rest of his life.
Perhaps Old Uari would hate it, given how he probably had an attachment to all that stuff, but New Uari had other things to think about, and one of those things included a daughter who needed food and new clothes.
With those earnings, he could just drop his daughter off at a sweet little childcare in the main area of the city. With enough incentive, he could probably convince them to take her for a slightly more extended period of time. The richer areas had a phenomenal amount of security, after all.
Extending this idea to his daughter resulted in tears, which he spent the better part of the hour shushing. Additional coaxing and bribing were necessary in order to convince her, but in the end, she agreed with the promise that he wouldn't take any longer than two weeks and that he would take her to buy a new bag before he left. The tears dried suspiciously quickly after that.
Damn. Who had raised this child??
In short order, he had robbed himself as well as Gaunt Man, spent the better part of a day flooding the market with overpriced wood planks, and amassed an amount of wealth so staggering he refused to even look at his account balance out of guilt.
The 'rich' areas of South Southernland were much more polished; instead of metal there was glass, and instead of plastic there was silicone. Where there needed to be metal, stainless steel was present, and he had to hold himself back from running his hands wonderingly over the material.
Towers spiraled elegantly into the sky of Gildest, marvels of architecture and modern science. There were no lustre wires traversing the space between buildings here; instead, they were tucked and managed neatly onto the sides of buildings and under the ground. Several buildings were elevated off the ground in an excessive boast of construction capabilities, which Uari in his resentment found wholly unnecessary.
He then took them both shopping, spinning a wonderfully absurd excuse about how he was from the North and had gotten robbed on his travels. His daughter—who had raised this child, really—immediately grasped the situation and piped up frequently with lies appropriate for her age. They regaled the snobby, well-meaning owner with horrifying encounters of robbers and desert sandworms as they bought out half the boutique, and stuffed all of that into two expensive subspace bags.
He'd bought his daughter whichever bag she wanted. For a child of the slums, she sure was openly demanding, insisting on a navy backpack that was easy to carry. With all the seriousness her cute little face could muster, she commented that it would stand out less, and Uari thought he might cry from the adorableness of it all.
He would find the asshole who had implanted the need for such teachings into her and beat the shit out of them later.
They had a nice lunch together before reluctantly trooping over to a childcare centre the boutique owner had recommended. She had even made a personal call to the owner of the centre to get them the VIP treatment, and her snooty, wrinkled brows had smoothed out in a smile at his daughter's hug of thanks.
The lobby looked like it belonged to a corporation instead of a childcare, and the principal's office was obviously the office of some high-ranking executive, but the plump woman standing behind the desk was wearing a blue apron that read 'Aperture Daycare'. Uari had to remember to click his mouth shut as they were ushered in, suspending his disbelief and seating himself in the plush seat across from the table.
The woman's appearance was seriously throwing him off. The office looked like it should have housed some cold-looking business bro in a crisp suit worth five years of his Searcher's salary, not a sweet-looking middle-aged lady who had crows' feet wrinkles from smiling too much. Her apron even had smudges of colour on it around the thighs, like a bunch of children had grabbed at her to demand attention during messy childcare activities.
He positioned his daughter carefully on his knee. The woman smiled.