January 21st, 2022
***
Being weak is special; it offers a unique perspective. While it's easier to see at the top, it's easier to breathe at the bottom.
Yet Richter was suffocating. An overwhelming presence pressed down like a truck had parked on him. Someone had moved in next door to Room 101.
He had a lot of time to think about this in bed. Richter lay awake, flipping a silver coin into the air repeatedly. The small bag of money from Uriel sat on his nightstand. The new neighbor must've come in overnight; he didn't feel this when he returned from training yesterday.
It was a stuffy, unrestrained force. Not a threatening vibe - at least not to Richter - but it had a sharp edge. The aura cloaked the entire first floor and part of the sidewalk by the entrance. It reminded him of sonar or a camera. Something akin to the early stages of training his Sixth Sense.
Drek had implied that spying and detection powers existed back on Space Station Vermont. So if that was the case, why weren't they being more subtle? Was he overthinking it?
He contemplated hiding from the presence. Richter had already showered and dressed for the day. A small extension of his Sense around his body would do the trick, but playing along was likely better. That's why the knock on his door caught him off guard.
"Come on Richter. You know the drill by now."
Clare's voice was becoming a source of comfort. He grabbed his stuff and followed her out to the streets. Richter spoke up once free of the area, gazing at the hovercars far above.
"You should have told me I had a new neighbor. That's not a pleasant feeling to wake up to."
Clare squinted back at him. "What are you talking about? I haven't heard of any new arrivals, and I didn't feel anything at the hotel."
'That's concerning.'
He tentatively clenched his jaw. "Seriously? It's hard to miss. A brazen, unrestrained presence that coats the floor. Comes from Room 101."
Clare was too busy grumbling under her breath. She took him down a different road this time. Signs for shops drew his attention as they strolled toward a busy marketplace.
"Oh yeah? 'hard to miss'? You trying to piss me off? I wouldn't overlook something so obvious. I think you're just losing it." Clare clicked her tongue in annoyance like it was his fault. "It happens to a lot of people when they first visit other planets. Messes with their internal clocks."
But he persisted. "I know what I felt. You should check it out."
"Fine, fine, I'll do a once-over in the coming days. Happy?"
Richter was not. His persistence fell on mostly deaf ears. The only solace was a lack of evidence — The neighbor hadn't done anything horrendous yet.
Was he always this paranoid? Certainly not. Seems training Lightspeed has moved up on the priority list. Richter didn't want to get wrapped up in whatever might be going on. He preferred one problem at a time.
They arrived at the marketplace - a single city block with stores on each side. Richter couldn't read any of their names or slogans, but they looked pretty cool. Some advertised weapons, others armor, and more still for general apparel. Clare stopped at the first shop on the right and pushed two silver coins into his hands.
"Take these and go buy a communicator inside. It'll sync to any planet, giving you the time and an accurate day-night cycle. Communicators also trade and save contact info like phones — Except these aren't limited by your nearest cell tower. Just use a trickle of mana and it'll be fine."
"I guess you're not coming with?"
"You should be able to handle this on your own."
With that, she shoved him forward. The sliding door opened, welcoming him into the heated interior of a beautiful store. The glass display cases were setup like a jewelry shop containing little trinkets and consumables. He saw pills, potions, and other little gadgets he didn't know. There were also a handful of golden shields and swords mounted on the walls that shoppers ogled enviously.
Speaking of shoppers: their outfits were business formal. Richter could barely be called business casual in jeans and a button-up. He saw one man in a black suit chatting up the cashier. Whether he was haggling for a better deal or her number was hard to tell.
Richter didn't blame him - the lady looked incredible in a blue, lace bodice dress. It wasn't the kind of employee attire he'd expect at a store, but it worked.
'Stay focused - find a communicator...Where the hell are they?'
All he could do was shift from display to display until he thought he found it. The background clutter faded as he scrambled around for several minutes.
"Looking for something?"
Richter about knocked over a cabinet. The lady was by his side, clasping her hands behind her back. She had royal blue eyes and red high heels that rapped against the floor.
"Yes, actually. I'm here for a communicator."
"Right this way," she said softly. "I keep them behind the counter for convenience."
He followed her to the register where she popped a lock and slid one out.
"How much?"
She turned to him and laughed, looking up and down his figure critically. Her eyes stopped on the hand he held his coins in.
"Let's say three silver," she smiled.
"...Could I bargain for two?"
Richter didn't like how this was shaping up. There was something weird about her. She set the communicator down on the register and leaned in close.
"What an interesting thing to say. Bargain? Maybe we can. But what do you have to offer?"
Admittedly, that stumped him: He had nothing to sell. Screw it, just pay the extra silver. If Clare finds out about his spar then so be it.
He pulled out a third coin and held it up.
"Forget it, I'll pay."
Her cheeks puffed out in disappointment. "That's no fun," she mumbled. "Come on, I serve the same faces day after day. New guys like you are rare...and exciting." She peered down at the katana on his hip before continuing.
"Besides, I wanted to find out what kind of guy would cling on to such a worthless sword. I was shocked when—!"
Her words died in her throat as every hair on her body stood at attention.
A warning.
She pushed away from him and took a stance. All the training drilled into her came out. Yet when she looked up - there was nothing. His eyes were normal; the feeling was gone. And no one in the store had noticed.
"You're the appraiser. Guess I shouldn't be surprised that Clare is messing with me." Richter's voice came out smooth and silky. Restrained. He tempered his heart and let go of the blade's handle. "Just finish the transaction."
"Not yet," she cleared her throat awkwardly. "Let me introduce myself - I'm Nax. I'm not a local either, just stuck working off a punishment from the academy."
"You're kidding."
"Nope! I'm a student of the illustrious Stratelle Academy." She stuck out her chest with pride.
Richter kept running into that name. Was it that widespread? How many other students were like her?
"Please just take my money so I can leave."
"Hold on, just do one thing and I'll sell it for two silver." Nax didn't wait for an answer and instead whisked over to a golden longsword hung on the opposite wall. It was pretty, shiny. Richter watched her lug it over with difficulty.
If the sword was actually made of gold, then it should weigh a hefty amount.
"I'm not buying the sword no matter how good the deal is."
Nax gave him a dirty look. "I'm not selling it; you couldn't afford it anyway. All I want you to do is grab the handle."
"That's it?" Richter looked suspicious, and rightfully so. Though the blade didn't feel special. He let his Sense envelop it, thoroughly examining every inch. Still nothing out of the ordinary.
"Yes, just hold it for a few seconds."
"Fine."
Might as well get it over with. He clenched it with one hand on the counter. Forget lifting it — that was out of the question. Richter held it...and held it... and nothing happened. Nax looked perplexed, murmuring to herself.
"Strange. I thought for sure..." she trailed off. "Oh well, you can let go now."
She finished the transaction and handed over the communicator. It was a runic smartphone just like the one Drek and Stel had. Odds are that they got theirs from the same store at one point.
Richter was just glad to be done. He made a break for the door when Nax spoke up again.
"You can stash the coins by holding them against your status window and saying: 'deposit'. You can withdraw by doing the opposite. Figured you could use that."
"Thanks."
Richter would try that out when he was alone. He made his way outside, pushing past a few people to reach Clare.
"I got the communicator. How do I sync it?"
"It'll happen automatically once you use mana."
She wanted to see him do it, so he injected a trickle inside. It lit up with a pretty red, pulsing weakly in his hand. He tried to read the display to no avail. Clare helped explain the alien symbols on it.
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Planet: Carson II.
Day-Night Cycle: thirty-six hours.
Day: twelve hours.
Night: twenty-four hours.
Lunar Cycle: eighteen days. (1/18)
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"Wait, the days here are thirty-six hours long? Then on Earth they're alr—"
"Calm down - time is relative in the System. This means all days pass at the same rate, just different times. When thirty-six hours have elapsed here, twenty-four hours will have elapsed on Earth. That equality will hold true for all planets."
That revelation calmed his heart a lot.
"Doesn't that mean people here have an extra twelve hours to do anything they want?"
Clare nodded as though it sickened her. "Yes, I know what you're getting at. Longer days are great for training. But staying for too long throws you off. It makes readjusting to other planets very disorienting. Fortunately, most planets average a cycle from twenty to thirty-two hours; anything less or more is considered uncommon."
"No wonder I was sleeping so well."
Turns out he was resting for half a normal day. Damn. Richter tucked away his communicator.
"That's right, you lazy idiot. Now let's go, you took forever in there."
She led the way back to the facility with Richter in tow. Though there was something he had glossed over about Carson II's day-night cycle: the night.
It was twenty-four hours long.
***