Chapter 115

Getting A New Ride (1)

I have to say, nothing is more depressing than being at a couples’ retreat place solo. You have the beach, the surf, the fresh ocean air that smells of decaying whale excrement and other even less savory decaying organic materials.

Then you have the happy go lucky couples who all run happily from the shore to the surf, swim for a bit, then come out to spend time with their loved ones. It is enough to make you wish you focused before choosing a location to teleport to, rather than just jumping blindly.

On the bright side, crossing between universes was easier than I expected. I almost wonder about the structural integrity of the universes, wondering if jumping back and forth between the universes so many times causes micro tears to form? But then I drop that depressing thought for other equally depressing thoughts.

“Hey can I help you?”

A well-tanned security guard comes out to greet me.

“Yeah, actually I was hoping you could.” I say, as I pull open my violin case and show my compressed certs.

“Certainly sir, right this way.” The guard said, as he began driving back in his hovering golf cart. “Would you care for a ride?”

“No thank you. I think I could use the fresh air.” I say as I take in a deep whiff and realize the ocean might be beautiful, but there is an odd smell about it.

Still, I continue into the casino portion of the Wango Tango beach resort. Somehow it seems a little drabber than before. The lights aren’t as bright, and there is a faint frozen feature of smoke, dust, and lost ambitions that seem to waft the halls.

I watch as couples play different card tables, their attention clearly more on their loved one than on the dealer who is cheating with bad pulls and fixed shuffles.

I don’t know if it is my enhanced Perception, or the fact that I can now sense the spirit of everyone here. I can sense the way people plan to cheat. The way people are with one person, but secretly eying another.

Still, I feel that I can make a living from this place.

With my Precognition-X, enhanced Attributes and Spirit Attribute, taking the house for all its money should be child’s play.

There at the center of the casino, just like my last timeline was the Lime Green three-seater space vehicle.

Seeing the vehicle there, just like last time. I see the price tag under it.

Limited Edition

Space Explorer

18,650 Certs

At that, I know what my goal is.

As we continue to walk to the teller window, I see another sign that catches my interest as well.

Open Music Night.

Grand Prize:

10,000 Certs

-100 Cert entry fee

Special Guest Judge:

Iron Butterfly (Last Minute cancellation)

NEW GUEST JUDGES: General Fellina, and Guest Rayquel

Looking at the advertisement, it seemed that Rayquel was supposed to be here herself, but since she lost her Guardian wings no one would recognize her. Well, no one that wasn’t an Endarian, I mean to be fair after you’ve seen a thousand nearly identically perfect people, what is one more without wings?

Still, I can’t help but feel a calling to play.

“Is there a way I can sign up for the Open Music Night?” I ask.

“You can but know that competition will be very fierce. The judges are Endarians.” The guard says in a hushed tone. I know what he is trying to imply, he means that this music competition will be particularly harsh.

“Thank you for the warning, but I think I can at least make a name for myself.”

“You realize you will likely be one of the few humans competing?”

“That’s fine. I have a secret weapon.” I say, patting my violin case.

The guard just shrugs his shoulders as if he tried to warn me.

He did, and by all means I should likely take him up on his warning. The only thing is, I have a plan.

A simple plan.

I will reintroduce the same song I did last time, this time.

No reason to change the things you did right after all. I just need to focus on fixing all the other crappy decisions I made.

With that, I spent approximately 250 certs. 150 for my room and registration. Another 100 certs to enter the Open Music Night competition.

With my registration done. I was given a time slot to return. If I wanted the Space Explorer, I would need to win more than just the open music night.

As such, I decided to cash in a few more certs for a small stack of chips. Then I go to a table and proceed to lose four out of every five hands I play. Then I go all in on my next hand and somehow win. From there I let my stack get whittled down again and again. Until I miraculously double my earnings on a crazy “all-in” call.

Finally, after a few hours of playing like this, I end up cashing out with just under 200 certs from my original 250. The reason for this is simple.

I can’t get exposed as a Cog, so I need to make it look like I just occasionally get lucky. But overall, I have terrible luck. I was just about to leave when I was stopped.

“This seat taken?” A familiar female voice coos out from my right side.

I look up out of politeness to see that it is General Fellina, or this universe’s version of General Tigran, the same lady who went into a near paralytic coma by trying to read my past from our handshake.

“By all means. I could probably use you as a good luck charm.” I say to her.

Her eyes glow, as she is clearly using a power on me. This is okay, so long as she doesn’t touch me, we should be fine.

Also, I am not one to talk about others glowing, what with my now permanently electric silver hair. Though to be honest, I don’t mind this as much. I know before when I had my Psionic power over my Magical power it generated a lot of resonance. But that all seems to be taken care of now with my astonishingly high Spirit.

Now rather than the energy just clinging to me and causing me to become irritable, I just discharge it wherever I go. This does quite a few things. First it makes it really easy for Psychometrics to track me. But it also makes it a lot easier for me to backtrack where I’ve been.

“You speak Endarian fluently. That is quite intriguing for one so young.” General Fellina says.

Man, she is smart.

That’s right, this is before the true peace accords are signed. Outskirt locations like vacation spots are a social nexus where different space faring races can meet up. But the only problem is, up to this point no human should have the ability to speak Endarian. Saver for a few politicians who can only do so at an Intermediate level.

When she sat down and started speaking Endarian, I naturally followed suit. An outcome she no doubt predicted would happen.

“So, what brings the great General Fellina here, or do you prefer your native name of Tigran?”

At that she paused and stared at me. Her eyes trying to read something, but I could tell whatever power she was using wouldn’t take hold.

Finally, she spoke.

“I have to ask, why exactly are you here?”

I smile a coy smile. “Simple. I am going to win that Space Explorer.” I say, pointing to the vehicle like I am overly optimistic tourist.

“It will take a lot of nickel bet cert hands to win that much.” She says, purposefully jabbing at the fact that I am here at the lowest buy-in table and losing.

“I have a plan.”

“Which is?”

“Did you know I can also play an instrument.”

She looks at me, then to my violin case.

“A human instrument?” She says with mock disgust.

“Hey, don’t go picking on my girl, until you hear her soul play.” I say, while gently stroking my violin case. Even now, I can feel the resonances I have shed over the past few months all resonating within the instrument.

Just having it by my side is a very comforting feeling.

“You think instruments have souls?”

“This one does. And you will hear it tonight.”

“You know, I could have you thrown out for trying to collude favor with a judge.” She said, but I had been around the General long enough to know she was just trying to get a feel for me.

“I would then get you for entrapment, as it was you who sat down here. Let me guess, trying to get an understanding on my electric hair, at the same time the Iron Butterfly miraculously loses her wings.”

Hiss!

Her demeanor that had been calm a moment ago was suddenly aggressive. Instinctively she reaches for her dagger that is on her right hip.

At that I smile.

“See, now you can get me for collusion.” I say, then I move in close. “Only problem is if you do. Everyone here and likely the universe will know about your Guest Rayquel.”

I state clearly, the threat more than apparent as I am directly threatening to out Rayquel as the former Iron Butterfly.

“Of course, you are likely wondering why now? Why after the world tree has been gone for so many hundreds of years. Why now of all times would a Guardian be denied their wings.”

At that, her eyes go wide with an understanding.

“You know? You know what happened, all of it?” She asks.

I nod.

“Then tell me what?”

“Hey, information like this isn’t free. But I tell you what. I’ll give you a hint. It is the same reason certs are drying up, and Prolaxians are no longer spawning.”

Her mouth went wide, but she quickly regained her composure.

I smile.

“Let me guess originally the event tonight was supposed to be a MAC championship? But it was canceled due to lack of available Prolaxians?”

“Yes,” She admitted with a hiss.

Suddenly the reason why Rayquel and General Fellina had both been slated to be here was apparent. They were to be over watch members for people auditioning for a MAC championship feeder round. The winner here would easily go onto other venues. But that had all been stopped when the Prolaxians stopped showing up. They likely couldn’t cancel as they had already sold so many tickets. So rather than reimbursing everyone, they offered a grand music contest where the prize would be partially covered by the people wishing to be part of the televised broadcast.

“Well, don’t worry, after tonight, people will be happy they missed a minor MAC championship feeder round.” I state.

“You are awfully confident for someone I’ve never heard of before, Mr. Smith, John Wayne Smith.” She says, stating the name I penned in here at the hotel.

“That’s me, singing Cowboy at your service.” I say, tipping my non-existent hat.

She just stares at me.

“You call yourself a cow-boy? Wouldn’t the correct term be a calf?” She asks a bit confused.

“Yeah that term likely doesn’t translate well on account of beastkin, right?”

With that General Fellina nods in agreement.

She stares at me for a moment. There is a weird type of questioning just behind those eyes. “Well, I must be going Mr. Smith. You surely have given me a lot to think about.”

With that, she got up to leave.

I stayed at the table, not playing anything. Until finally it was time to go and get ready for my initial time slot.

I would go in, play for a minute or longer. If the judges liked what they heard, they would let me go on for up to five minutes. At which point I knew I would make the second round. It was double elimination, but that meant something completely different to Endarians. To Endarians that meant that both judges had to vote no the first time you played, or vote no twice at any point during the competition.

I figured I might have pushed General Fellina a bit too far, when I entered the stage and she introduced me as. “I now present to you Mr. John Wayne Smith, the singing Calf.”

In hindsight, I should have expected that.

“Now, Mr. Smith. Tell us a bit about what you will be playing for us tonight.” Rayquel stated.

“I would like to play a classic, but one that truly never gets old if done right.”

At that the two judges looked sort of interested. Rayquel was especially, General Fellina was only going through the motions.

“It is called, Endar Rising.”

BUZZ!

At that, I already had one of my two votes needed for elimination.

“Next!” General Fellina demanded.

“Boo!” Many of the Endarians in the crowd booed at this as well.

“Come on, give me a chance. That is the spark of inspiration needed to make a change after all?” I ask.

With that, both judge’s jaws went slack as they stared at me. I had just quoted one of the few parchments about the song that had survived. But as a mere human, I would have had no access to that document.

With them both subdued, I quickly pulled up my violin to my chin and began playing Endar Rising to Beethoven’s ninth, in memory of my last time I played here. This time just like last time, I called on the inspiration, my budding love for Jess. Well love for Jess and the want to kill Prolaxians. I had neither currently, but that was why this song existed. For there was always hope.