One thing scientists and magicians all agree on, the universe has hidden rules that can be determined and applied. They may be counterintuitive, arbitrary or not the rules you'd have wanted (I for one, laugh at entropy) but they're there.
One of the rules I can't seem to escape, is it being easier to destroy than create.
For most magical effects, I need to find a specific item that can do the thing I want, and magic items that build things are rarer than you might think.
I don't know, precisely, the upper limits for my destructive capability. Rayguns, railguns pulsers and plasma guns are old hat to me, but would an Illidium Q-36 explosive space modulator really destroy the world? What about a Bitsy Big-Boy Bomberoo? I know I can produce at need a shoulder-fired rocket that arc over a wide area, dropping almost two hundred 2-megaton antimatter bomblets. I've never test-fired it though. That's the kind of thing that bumps you about thirty levels up everyone's threat lists and gets you a very deep windowless cell or a bullet to the brain pan.
Besides, "fuck this entire continent" really isn't a valid answer to most of my daily problems. Especially these days, where keeping the city intact is sort of my main goal.
Well, creation is now something we need, and if my options are a lot more limited than those for blowing things up (and isn't that a sad commentary on humanity?) then it's of little import.
My bag of tricks is still very deep indeed. People have been adding to it for millennia.
The NML order gives everyone "good" three days to get out of Gotham before they blast the last bridge. I suspect less out of concern that everyone have sufficient time than just setting everything up, there's a lot of bridges, a few tunnels and no small amount of ships moving in and out of Gotham. Well, the subway tunnels are sort of collapsed and flooded, but they're still filling them in with concrete.
If they were a bit smarter, they'd leave the rails for last, for a short ride to the mainland, they could pack people in like sardines and easily clear everyone in that time. Except they'd still want to check everyone and let out only the better part. The rail bridges are the first to go.
Next is the already damaged aqueduct that brought the city most of it's water. Apparently people can and have climbed it and walked on the top, so clearly that had to go, and it's not like they'd keep up the water service anyways.
Still feels a lot like kicking us while we're down, though.
We've got the reservoir, so drinking water isn't an enormous crisis. But it turns out getting that water from it's big depression in the ground into faucets is a whole lot more complicated than pulling a clearly labeled lever or two, even before the quake made a joke of our system of plumbing, and without phones we wasted half a day just finding a replacement for the expert we needed to pull it off, with the official guy dead.
Looks like we'll be carrying water around, at least for the next week or two.
What do we need in a crisis? Shelter, water, food, medicine. First two more-or-less seen to, we post notices in shelters for steady hands as guards and heavily armed errand boys, while Vinny puts the word around a lot of our old associates. As people come in, we put them to work in groups, scouting out and securing resources. Vinny thoughtfully put together a list of medications and basic foodstuffs we'd want to save sample of for duplicating. I hadn't even thought of preventing scurvy!
All the canned stuff and dry goods we pinched for rationing. With refrigeration uncertain in the future, I resolve to throw open the pantry doors in the near future. Maybe some kind of banquet? Isn't that what nobles used to do when they obtained a great deal of food they couldn't realistically save? Seems like the thing to do in any case.
The folks I sent to check out the power plant near Chinatown reported the place had been enveloped by a castle made of ice. Victor's work, I presume. It's not a bad plan, I assume he's going to squeeze folks with a monopoly on electricity. I can deal with this, but it's easier to talk with Victor than punch him out. And negotiating will be a lot easier if I break up the monopoly. Somewhat ironically, the best to get him to release power is to show we can generate a lot of our own. Then we're dealing with him as a matter of convenience, and not as humble petitioners.
So the day after this grand proclamation, I assembled the Legion of Doom (and I shall only ever refer to them as such in the privacy of my head where only James can laugh) at GCPDHQ.
Beside myself, and my strong left and right hands, there was Matt and Pat, not deep in my confidence, but steady hands from the old days, and each perfectly disposed to do odd things like ride a rocking horse and think hard on luck and the Kentucky Derby, then Alan Georges, who runs the Department of Public Works and who worked tirelessly to clear debris from the quake, by stunning coincidence, a Mr. Julio Herrera, he of the missing son, had turned out to be the most experienced electrician we could find and was sitting in the corner looked decidedly uncomfortable, sitting opposite to myself at the table were Jim Gordon, Renee Montoya, and William Pettit, the commander of GCPD SWAT looking respectively calm, uncomfortable and like someone trying to decide if he was a sheep surround by a wolves or a fox let loose in the hen-house. Rounding out the group were doctors Karl Hellfern and Jason Woodrue, the senior surviving members of Gotham U's science faculty, and doctors Thompson and Thorne, the latter on a trial basis, representing our medical experts and Joe, a building contractor I'd grabbed at random from a camp. Plus Heather, my secretary, in a different corner keeping the minutes.
"So, why are we all here?" James Gordon was never one to waste time or beat around the bush. It was probably definitely, you twit unwise to twist his tail, but I couldn't resist.
"This is why I like Gordon. He's not afraid to ask the deep questions. Why are we here?" I paused to contemplate the purpose of existence. The man did not look amused.
"In an immediate sense, we're gathered here because most of the officials, bureaucrats et al. who would normally run things are scampering over the bridge to Metropolis as fast as their little legs can take them, the Feds are pulling out, and as of this moment, the people in this room are the government of Gotham. And we've got a lot of work ahead of us."
"Yeah, about that." Pettit stepped forward. "Why, exactly, should we keep on taking orders from you? The old social order is gone, and we all know you're a criminal, out for yourself."
Gordon shot his man a dark look, but seemed content to sit back and let me field the challenge.
Alright then.
"Last I checked, I was the leader chosen by the people of Gotham, not the Feds. And as long as we're willing to work for it, the social order isn't dead here. If you want to try and elect a new leader, I won't object, though I think a lot more people who voted for me will be staying than leaving. If you want to try a coup..." I fixed him with a very level stare "Well, you'd best bring a whole lot more than just your sidearm. And maybe think past the first five minutes. Who is going to be in charge, you? If your authority comes form the barrel of a gun, what's going to happen the first time you and Gordon disagree?"
He steps back, looking unsure of himself. It's enough of a win for now, I don't want to start by hammering my staff into submission. Not in front of everyone anyways, that might hurt people's willingness to freely share ideas. These are the situations for which dark remote alleys were invented, when business needs to be handled unofficially.
"That's enough, Pettit." Gordon is a lot harder to read than he used to be, his voice is totally level. "For now, he's in charge." Gracefully unsaid was when that happy circumstance might end. Presumably after my first major mistake, assuming I hadn't secured better loyalty before then.
But, really, I can't blame them, and this is fine. I subverted a mob family from within, got my first leadership role in prison, and have passed over a dozen parole boards. I don't what I'd do without a hostile audience.
"Right, now I understand things haven't been exactly ideal lately, but let's be honest, none of us here are cut out for quiet and peaceful. Police, doctor, or more colorful background, we're the people taking care of business when everything is spiraling out of control. And here's something no other leader could do for you. Whatever we can save a sample of, we have arbitrarily large amounts of, because I have a gismo that duplicate things ad nauseum. Vinny has here a list of medications we'll need, basic antibiotics, things like insulin and albuterol and the like. Doctors, if you could give that a once-over and make any additions needed?" Vinny forked it over, and I turned to the DPW guy, Al Georges. "As for you, thank you so much for all the good work you've done. Right now, we need to make certain what buildings are standing are safe for habitation. We can probably count on anything Wayne built in the last few years, but to help you out, I'm going to give you a tricorder. Vinny can show you how to interpret the results, but if you scan load-bearing walls you and your engineers should be able to come up with an answer in minutes, instead of waiting two weeks since the last major tremors."
"If it works, it'll be a big help."
I do so love working with engineers. Show a physicist a perpetual-motion machine and he'll either curl up in the fetal position or still be there a week later, frantically going through his equations for the tenth time. Show an engineer a perpetual-motion machine, and he'll tell me my powers are bullshit and immediately start working out where to put the magnets and the copper wire.
Speaking of... "Mr. Herrera, We need you to try and get some of the electric grid back up, without it any power source is useless. After that, maybe see if you can get GEMCON working again. Take whoever you need to get it done." He nods his assent, but looks uncomfortable. Problem for another day.
Back in the 1980s, the city installed three dozen emergency public phones, each running on a two-year battery and able to call only Gotham Police and Fire dispatch, and each other. An emergency system I'm told is mostly down due to a combination of quake damage and plain old neglect. In theory, nobody should ever be more than four blocks from the nearest GEMCON phone, and that sure would make coordinating a lot easier.
"Next is food again." I can organize an agenda, I even read Robert's Rules of Order once. I simply don't care. "There's more than a few tricks I have to play, if need be, I can provide magic nets that attract fish and need hardly be cast to be hauled up full. But duplication needs samples, right now I have some friends guarding the major food stores, but we'll need to organize and secure them better. I'm thinking people watching a couple of centers, don't want them to put all our eggs in one basket, nor spread things out beyond our ability to protect them. It's in the air whether we'll get reliable refrigeration back soon, so we dispose of any food we can't store. I'm thinking throw a feast when they blow the last bridge, get back some morale when it's going to be lowest. Thoughts, comments, objections?"
None at the moment. People looked thoughtful. Or like they were starting to get bored, et tu Freddy? Well, I can't have that now, can I?
"Oh, Freddy! I have a couple projects for you."
He pushes his seat back from the table, and actually kneels.
"What is thy bidding, my dark master?" The cheek on him!
Well, I have been meaning to spice up his lif with some extra randomness. "I'm going to need three candles, a chicken egg, an engraver, two of the meanest stray cats you can find, at least three mallets, the more the better, and the skull of a priest or similar holy man."
He doesn't even blink.
"You need the cats alive, or is dead acceptable? Because one is a bit harder. Fertilized eggs or from a store?"
More than half the table is staring in some kind of fascinated horror. I'm starting to worry about my boy here, just what have I subjected him to that these are routine tasks?
Think back, hard on your entire association. Then ask yourself that question again.
Oh. Right.
"I'll need the cats still kicking, no disintegrations. For the egg let's say... hardboiled. It's important to be hardboiled, in this town. Can you get me those tonight?"
"Sure."
"Alright then. Brings us to the boys in blue. Security is going to be a problem for us in a big way, already we'll want some more hands from you just to secure food. But let's not forget there are a bunch of violent maniacs running around, and people who believe, to varying degrees and not without some justice, that the social order is breaking down and it's every man for himself."
"And they're right." I thought I heard Pettit mutter.
"We need to figure out the best way to keep people safe. My first thought was concentrating much of the population here in Old Gotham. We have the most fallen buildings, but that also means the most space for agriculture and new construction, all our administrative and C&C stuff is here, and if we raise the drawbridges on the North side, there's only two roads in, much more defensible. But then I thought I might be focusing too much on a siege mentality. We also need to be able to reach our people. What do you think?"
"Turtle up." Pettit said, at the same moment Gordon replied "We can't abandon the people in Tricorners or elsewhere so you can play king of the rubble-heap." They glared at each other a long moment, before Montoya cleared her throat.
"There are tactical benefits and costs to either approach, but I think there's another question to be considered, perception. If we withdraw from most of Gotham, we're giving up on it and the people in it, just like the feds. Kind of opens up a lot of legitimacy issues. It's not my call, but I'd say don't give up an inch of ground that we don't absolutely have to."
It was a good point. "I'll have to think about that." I turned to Gordon. "Is this the recommendation of the GCPD?"
"Yes." Gordon almost hissed out, his eyes locked on Pettit's.
"Then it will be taken into consideration, with the weight of that endorsement. Next item, recruitment. We have vast needs for labor, and I believe that includes you. Basic skills of making a society, and more police to replace everyone fleeing to the mainland. Vinny, that;s your job for the most part. We've got some noticeboards up in the major shelters, but we want to start moving people out of those. For now, pass the word for mechanics, police, medics, tailors, plumbers, electricians, you know what we need."
"Right."
Rattling clanking down the road, the war is going home. "...Add SCA enthusiasts to the list. Entertainers too. Need something for morale."
"Oookay? I'll get right on that."
"Excellent. I think that's about the agenda here, unless anyone has something to add?" The scientists, who I didn't actually give tasks to, shake their heads, followed by everyone else. "We've taken some lumps, but we're not dead by a long shot. Let's go out there and make sure people know it."
As people got up to leave, I motioned Freddy to remain and leaned in.
"One last task. While you're running this way and that across the city, keep an eye out for a good hiding place for an object about twice the size of your fist. Somewhere you can easily find and reach it, but no one else could." He opened his mouth. "Not where people could still hear. For now, just trust me."
He nodded, and left.
I departed a moment later, though I didn't go far, to a recently cleared lot five doors down from the station. There I duplicated a load of clay from a craft store with the gismo and amused myself for a couple hours making a crude kiln, really just a waist-high chimney with a grate in it, while I thought about my plans.
The Moonstone of the Shianti is a powerful tool. A potent amplifier of magic, though with my usual problem of stacking buffs leading to sharply diminishing returns. Of greater interest at the moment is what happened when it was secured in Sommerlund. Illness became scarce, the crops were abundant, stillbirths became nonexistent and summer prevailed year round. I may not be a Fisher King, but with a little help, I can convincingly fake it.
It's not a perfect solution, this will take a big bite out of my total spell capacity, and in the book there were serious concerns that it was throwing off the balance of nature, and had to be returned to the Shianti on their isolated island. Well, it should be alright for the winter anyways, and if later problems come of messing with nature, that's Future Bookworm's problem. Or ideally, another mayor's.
Yes, I could forsee no problems with this plan.
Hmmm... I can duplicate timber from a small sample, but I should really get some people working just gathering seaweed from the beaches. Not only can you burn it, you can get soda ash from it, which is priceless in making soap, detergent, clear strong glass and fertilizers. Waste not and all. Of course, I'd need a way to pay for this service, fiat currency not amounting to much in Mad Max's world.
Fortunately, I had a plan.
….
And the strangest sensation, as though thousands of voices cried out in sudden terror.
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When Freddy arrived with his three cats and an engraver, I set the latter to work on my designs and used the gismo again to make four thousand cats of three. All had the same memories and experience of feral living as the originals, so I hoped they'd all make stellar mousers. Kind of territorial with each other though, so Freddy spent a couple of hours dashing around the islands, scattering cats across them.
I probably don't really deserve that man.
Before he made his final trip back, Vinny showed with his revised supply lists. While I had Freddy haring off again in search of core samples, we went on to phase two of "Wizard with no clue about economics ruins everything."
One delightful fairy tale provided me a magic tinderbox. When I struck up a fire with it, I could summon one of three giant dogs. The first is so big, his eyes are the size of teacups. The second is so big, his eyes are the size of cartwheels. The third is so big, his eyes are the size of the Rundetaarn. Definitely my first choice in a magic Kaiju-battle, but also, they each have access to their hidden chambers, with an infinite supply of copper, silver and gold coins, respectively.
Gold is a very soft metal, the old test for purity is to bite hard and see if you leave teeth marks. To alter a gold coin, all you really need is a heavy mallet, an imprint on a peg and the ability to hold it perfectly still while you put a couple of thwacks in it. Or in Freddy's case, one whack. Might heat it some if you're nervous.
So we set to it with a will, hammering the likenesses of local heroes and historic figures into gold and silver. John Logerquist, Nathan Cobblepot, Edward Elliot and Judge Solomon Wayne. Unless our name is El Presidente, never put your own face on money or your own name on things, it makes you look like a prick. Each of the reverse sides received a design, the silver Elliot and Logerquist coins got the seal of the city, a complex arrangement of crosses and a barn owl, the golden Cobblepot and Wayne ones were stamped with the symbol of the Bat. My little joke.
"So what," Vinny panted while taking a rest break "Are the rest for? The candles, the egg, and the skull?"
"Well, the egg is a snack, isn't that obvious? Had a bit of a craving. The candles and the skull are for atmosphere. Look." I had two candles burning merrily atop the skull, having melted wax all over the top and running into the eye sockets.
Freddy looked up from his assembly-line hammering of coins. "You know, I went through a bit of trouble to get that skull. You kind of suck boss."
"Eh, take it up with the union."
We pulled an all nighter, and by dawn the civic government of Gotham possessed over ten thousand Gold Pieces, and almost seventeen thousand Silver ones. We had not yet resolved the issue of what to actually call them.