Chapter 6

Life went on, the wheels turned and Ellen had a solid idea of how to determine the entry rules for the Portals. Simply put, leave me out of the equation and you get a group of up to six, able to enter a portal. The portal then goes dormant for a fortnight then goes active again. The group could enter one other portal, but couldn’t do more than that every fortnight either.

I could do anything I wanted, basically.
But I needed to keep quiet about most of it.

The federal government strangely agreed with the Native’s decree that the portals were part of the land (they were oddly lumped in with Mineral and Hunting Rights) and therefore were part of the standing treaties that were already recognized. They even went so far as to say that any portal on public land (Crown Land) was permitted to be administered by the nearest tribe, so long as they were willing.

Portals on private land were part of the property, and as long as the owner had customary Mineral Rights, they had the right (and the Legal Obligation) to control access as they saw fit. Like a swimming pool, they also had the responsibility to protect the public from accidentally entering the portal and hurting themselves. Guarding had to be “Visible, robust and adequate to prevent accidental entry...”. Ted, Linda and Ellen were going to make a killing.

The Tribe was doing well also. Sales of the functional weapons and shields were already above what anyone could expect. Prices for them were unbelievable, they were 10-20 thousand dollars, or 10-20 pieces of Game silver. They were pick-up only, in person, and that person had to be a Weapon so they could store it in inventory and prove it was “Game Real”. I was kept hopping, travelling into portals for new material for the makers. Strangely, bows and arrows outsold shields or spears. Primitive archery was becoming a fad.

I’d thought a long spear was a brilliant tool, paired with a club and shield for a backup. I was very much in the minority. Either people really wanted to be snipers, or they already had a hand-to-hand weapon and wanted to diversify.

The “Container Delivery-security-bodyguard-guide” package was busy beyond belief. The other guards could only enter two portals in 10 days, but the trips with them laying down a secure shipping container and then guiding a team through the first level of the portal was a winning proposition.
I was selling carcasses of animals too. Besides our Medicine Woman being able to bring out the fangs of the one spider, (how did she manage that btw?) I was the only source of the otherworldly material. I (the Tribe) was making a killing as every government and University wanted one for study. We even had a really rich MeTuber guy who wanted to cook and eat one. Ellen made him sign a document which stated we were absolutely not responsible for the outcome. The Crab apparently tasted god-awful, but the Fauns were like tough Goat. Go figure.
I was moving up in experience too. I hit level 1 at 1000 experience and received another status point. Undecided, I left it unspent. I picked up more and more of the sapphires, thinking that they had to be worth more than just silver, but so far, I had no proof of that.

I had almost hit level two, grinding away at a portal or two per day, when the first “Burst” happened. We didn’t know about it for an hour or more, but many of the pink portals let out a few of their Monsters into our world.

Ted was right, a door could open both ways.

These things, relatively easy to dispatch for an aware and armed Weapon, were totally overwhelming against an unarmed civilian (in most cases). There were stories of hunters shooting spiders at 100 yards with rifles, and heroic actions of dogs that saved their masters, but mostly, the public were simply killed.

It took a day or so to organize an armed response and go out after these things.
We managed very well on our island (comparatively) as the only portals that pushed out a monster were the ones that were unexplored by anyone (according to Ellen who tracked these things for us). Our Tribe had made a great local program of training, and selling or renting a Guide (usually me) to other new Weapons so there were few portal dwellers who escaped near us. Of those who did, a few were trapped in the Sea Cans dropped over the portals and locked up. It was a heck of an adventure to open one of those up. You just didn’t know what was coming out.

We developed a pattern of cracking a door open and having 5+ hunters fire in a round of buckshot. That tended to knock everything down. Videos of this were watched avidly.

Many unknown portals were found by this outbreak also.

The public now could see what we were up against ... and now the market for monster carcasses was basically flooded. They had been “modified” by modern tools, so would not go into anyone’s inventory, so at least that market was still viable. The California university canceled their contract with us.

Passing level 1 without a special award was a surprise to me. At 1 pink portal every 5 days, a Weapon could expect to make 1000 experience on about 22 trips (110 days) if they went solo every time, didn’t miss an opportunity to make a trip...

... and didn’t die.

There were still quite a lot of those...

Still, someone else must be able to enter as many portals as I could, or they were getting more experience every trip. They also would have to find new portals, as the maximum number of times they could enter level 1 of a particular portal was 5.

The team leaned this when working without me on a pink portal. This one had ants, and they found it quite easy to clear for both bladed and blunt Weapons (the Archer had to be absolutely perfect with his shots though), so it was considered a training portal. They were quite surprised when they first entered without me since the second exit was available to them. (This was when they started calling me “The Cursed”). I heard later that Bent Stick was the inventor of that one ... Payback for me giving him the symbolic name equivalent to “Guy with a Banana Dick”

I heard that the second levels were about the same size, but there were more monsters, in some cases many more (and more experience to be earned). The team that first pushed to level two didn’t escape unharmed. Stone Hammer lost a finger, and Fire Woman nearly lost her life when she tried to double-team two King Ants.

I kept grinding away on the level 1’s but every access point to level 2 was blocked. I must have guided about 60 entries, and soloed another 20 by the time I made level 2, with 2 more status points. Still undecided about what to do with them.

It was at this point I asked permission to enter the purple portals. We had heard that there were real monsters in these. Mummies, zombies, ghouls ... the stuff of Hollywood nightmares.

We were finally granted permission partly because the possibility of another burst, this one maybe coming from the purple portals. The Original six were put together once again. A large ceremony was arranged, and the cameras were rolling. Advertising and Publicity (Income) for the Tribe were the thoughts at the forefront here.
Entering the Green Room I had a long talk with the team. Most were hitting level relatively 1 soon. Many had found an interesting item, or way to use their weapon. The best one I saw was actually Quick Fire. She had bought, in silver, a spell book from another Weapon. This guy used a sword, so sold it to her for 50 silver. It was called “FireStrike” and anything she hit with her staff caught fire. It was like dousing it with napalm. We were told that the Mana costs were high, but when she had a clear thrust at something, she’d chant the spell and destroy anything in a single attack.
Hammer had gotten strong enough that his hammer often moved through things, almost like a sword. I thought it was a skill he was hiding, but he told us he was just really, really strong. (He was a bit larger, certainly and his acne had all but disappeared)
Most others were just a bit fitter, stronger, faster and better than two months ago.
We entered the portal on guard, finding ourselves in a place that looked like a hospital in the 1960ies.

With Zombies

The first zombie I ever fought nearly killed me. I was on point when this thing stumbled around the corner, and I froze.
I stabbed it hard through the chest with my spear but it was totally unfazed and grabbed my leading hand. It then pulled me in and swung its other hand to my throat and grabbed it, hard! I was wearing a neck guard, but it was designed to prevent cuts, not crushing. I pulled out my club and bashed the things head in. The pressure eased, but the hand didn’t release. Stepping back as I fell to my knees, I dropped my weapon and managed to pry the hand off me. I was lucky I had a good team, they stepped up, filled the gap and took on the other 4 zombies that followed their buddy. Shaman laid her hands on my throat and I could breathe after about 30 seconds, and let me tell you that they were the longest 30 seconds of my life.

About 8 groups of zombies later we figured we had them all.

I even tried putting one in inventory. It went, but I was grossed out by it.
Bent Stick was quite put out by these new foes. He was used to being an effective sniper, but zombies were hard to kill with an arrow.
Working as a team, he and I practiced our club work. Blocking with our Crab-shell bucklers. We were never going to be experts with these, but we were good as support fighters.
Hammer was in his element. Our weapons weren’t that different, but he was so much more effective with his than we were.

We managed to make it to the hospital cafeteria when we heard a howling. A glance in and Hammer turned around and reported back that there were 5 more zombies and one big black shrouded thing that was moving around quite quickly.
This Ghoul thing wasn’t deaf and definitely knew how to use a door. He came at Hammer from behind with his long claw-like fingers outstretched. I managed to get my spear out, slamming it sideways against Hammers arm (so as not to impale him myself) and into the path of the Ghoul that was rushing him. Hammer actually got pinned between two spears, as Short Spear got his up and stuck into the beast as well. I don’t think we hurt him (the Ghoul) much, but we managed to hold it for a second, and Hammer whipped around slammed its head with his stone hammer, killing it. The five zombies following it out of the cafeteria were dealt with fairly easily by our crew.
Patching up our walking wounded, we travelled around the single floor, finding the exit (A big red Fire door with a lit EXIT sign) and what I figured was the path to the second floor (a blocked-up staircase down)
I had to hide my Wayfinding skill with imaginary glimpses of things I saw during one fight or the other. We found a large pail of silver (150!) a large brown key, and a marble that was in the head of the Ghoul.
On my way past a nurses desk, I picked up a clean lunch bag that just seemed out of place. We went back into the green room.
Shaman bought an “identify item” token from the store and identified the marble. It gave a +1 to intelligence. I immediately asked for it. The rest of them looked at me strangely, as I rarely asked for anything.
“I have no problem with that” our Medicine Woman said, “but things like this are best discussed with the Chief of the tribe.” I acquiesced quickly. I never heard about that Marble again.

Exiting the portal, I was amazed to find that only 90 minutes had passed. We had a cleansing ceremony and told a little of our adventure. I pointed out to our audience that hitting these things anywhere, but the head or heart was pretty much useless, and that the Ghoul boss was actually kinda smart.

I couldn’t hide what bruising was left on my throat from Ellen and she had me tell the whole story again. Her final suggestion was a crosspiece at the end of the spear, or another spear entirely that had a crosspiece that would hold off a zombie, and not just go right through it.
I snuck back into the zombie Hospital and made a map in my head, as well as scratching it onto my shield roughly. It wasn’t big. I found very little else in there, but I did find a package of scalpels and a weird saw. Those went to the weapon and shield makers that were either members, or in the employ of, the Tribe. I sent them along via the Chief, with a request for a second spear with a crosspiece.

That was actually the last time that particular team worked together, all six of us. At the passing of level 1, most put their points into raising their weapon skill (it took 2 status points to do this). I didn’t even have that category, being classed as “weaponless” still.

I continued with mostly pink portals and new Weapons, joining only a half dozen or so runs through a purple one. The locations changed, but the zombies were the same (the factory one was the worst, with nowhere to hide we had to “run and gun” and we were totally exhausted by the end of it. A warning sign was made up and posted next to that one)

The signs became a thing ... with a clipboard or notebook inside the shipping container, with notes, dates, hints and warnings. There were even R.I.P.s. They were known as the “Tips and Rips” after a while. The more of the former there were, the less of the latter seemed to pop up. It was a real rite of passage for a new Weapon to make their first entry in one of these or just sign it like guestbook.

The purple Portals were all only 1st level for me and although I continued to explore any gate I was let into (I never once was rejected) I never had access to level 2. Cursed, I guess.

The online and media presence and coverage was intense and most of the information was inflammatory or wrong. The early lead that the Tribes MeTube channel had, was slipping to other groups with flashier production, or better-looking Weapons. The standout in a sea of garbage was one movie-making team who greenscreened a group of hunters as they “accurately” recalled one of their adventures. It was a hit, but I (and others) felt that it downplayed the team aspect of the fighting, playing up the “Superman” aspect of a few of their key (good looking) team members.

I asked Ted if he knew if any of the new hired weapons could draw, paint or sketch. He swore, and asked me if I’d ever interviewed candidates for a truck driving firm ... a week or so later, sketches, paintings and prints started being sold out of Russia, the sketches were particularly impressive as some were done in the heat of a battle, and looked to my eye to be both well made, and accurate. I offered 5 silver for a set of prints, and one of the original charcoal sketches and posted out the payment when it was gladly accepted in the place of Rubles.

Silver, or gate currency, was floating at about $1000-1200 for one nugget (Canadian) at this point and there were a lot of people who were using the Portals as their sole source of income, and many were using it to subsidize their standard of living. It was becoming the great “Side Hustle” and of course, governments wanted to tax it.

Rumour was that there was going to be a license to enter these portals, and you were going to have to reserve them ahead of time, like a camping site in a provincial park, and pay your fees on exit. How on earth they intended on policing this was beyond me. Open portals were just that, unless you put a locked access point on them.

More business for Ted and Linda’s firm.

It was right about this time that the Blue and Green portals appeared.

By this point I knew that they had to be tougher than the original ones. They were also more rare. The Chief told me in a phone call that there were only one of each on the whole region of land that the Band land claim applied to.

By that time, we figured that we had all the pink and purple Portals found and most of them were in natural areas (the first ones found were like mine though, the unusual ones in garages, parking lots and such).
The new Portals were very urban in their distribution, none were far away from asphalt, cement or brick.

The protection racket was easier due to these portals being on flat, stable ground, but competitors flourished as the scope and scale of the “Portal Invasion” became understood. We had a lock on the island business, but it was a small one, and out of the way. Being local, employing local and protecting local was our mantra.

The Net was full of stories about what was on these new portals, dragons, skeletons, ogres. I discounted most of it.
The part that bothered me most was the idea of another Breakout, and these unknowns entering our world. The explored Portals were quiet, the others were a time bomb in my mind.

It was weeks later before I was invited to join an entry to a blue Portal, on the mainland. My standard contract was a “Paid Duty”, sort of guard and guide for new Weapons. I wasn’t part of the team really, not participating in the spoils. More often than not though, I’d covertly pick up some things that my skill pointed out (almost nobody took the time to really search a Portal, I know I had a real advantage because of the effort I put in)

This “Invitation” was different. I was asked to join a team of experienced guys to support their team. The portal would be open in 3 days, and I had to leave immediately if I wanted to get there in time ... it was a long drive.

Ellen was immediately against it, pointing out that I wasn’t particularly strong, or had a healing ability or any other amazing skill (known to them) that an experienced team would need. If anything, I was a very low power, but highly skilled second-stringer.

I tried not to pout or take it personally, but she had a point.

I called them back under the pretext of confirming the make-up of the group. At the end of the conversation, I dropped in my real question “Why me? There have to be others closer to you that you know who are as powerful or more than I am.” we were on speaker phone, Ellen listening in.
“You are the Guide.” Came the voice, as though that explained everything. “You have proved that you can go into an unknown situation and come out in one piece and besides” he continued... “We want trophies...”

I understood immediately, though there was a worried look on Ellen’s face.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I quickly said, this guy was pushing it to say something like that on an open line. “I get an equal share of any treasure found and first consideration for any skills associated with my craft” I was making this up on the fly. “The rest we will discuss in person, when I arrive” if I had a silent listener, I could bet they did too.
The voice agreed quickly and we hung up.

“This is some sticky sort of group” Ellen exclaimed “They aren’t being fully honest with you at all, that comment about trophies, they want something more and aren’t going to take ‘No’ as an answer. I don’t want you getting killed by some Portal-Gangsters!”

They never said to arrive alone... “Why don’t you arrange a portal team to travel with me, book one nearby and if I get the heebie-jeebies with these guys, you bet I’ll run for the hills, but in the mean time I’ll have backup.”
She reluctantly agreed and went off to find me a team of bruisers of my own.

We were driving out some Sea Cans as part of our usual cover so that meant we needed to take the ferry to the mainland rather than flying, planning to sleep on the overnight trip. I’d left the island a number of times, but always flown. I found out that I liked boats, but they seemed not to like me. The motion of the ferry wasn’t large, but my body rebelled after a few hours. When I wasn’t napping, I was puking my brains out.

There is something about a desperate mind. I was looking for something to distract me from my misery so I somehow decided to use my Wayfind skill as a way to take away the focus from my churning stomach. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, but it was good practice and I guess I figured I could try some different terms from what I usually searched. I started going through my usual list to start. ‘Sapphires’ got a couple of pings from ladies’ jewelry and ‘Spiders’ also got a couple of pings too but nothing larger than an inch (and not dog sized or larger like I’d seen). ‘Crabs’ got a ton of hits down below me on the ocean floor and a nice bunch of cube shapes down in the ferry cargo hold. Next was ‘Danger’ and I got a strong ping which I wasn’t expecting. I had never tried to have it look for something that wasn’t physical, so was very suspicious of its reaction. Directly toward the back of the boat was danger, but it wasn’t clear if it was something on the boat or behind it at the Port. I was still quite ill, and probably not in the best frame of mind. A dangerous combination.
I made my way out of my berth and along the walkway between rooms toward the back of the boat, toward danger as my Skill kept reminding me, even the monsters in the Portals never set it off this strongly.

Peeking out the doorway to the rear, at the end of the hallway I could only see one other person, in the darkness he was bent over the railing puking as I had been doing just 10 minutes earlier.
I moved to the side of the boat; the Wayfinding skill continued to scream straight at this guy. I turned it off to get some mental space to think. I was in an already horrible mood thanks to the seasickness and now this. What to do.

Well, the action of the boat decided it for me, I ran for the rails and puked up what was left in my stomach. The other dude was occupied in the same way for a few seconds, but then glanced over at me. I happened to catch his eye, and a really surprised expression came over his face. He let go the rail and reached inside his coat. I recognized the action of drawing a pistol from a concealed holster, there really isn’t anything like it. You don’t pull out your wallet from an inside pocket quite like that...

I can’t say that I did it without thinking, I thought it over very quickly though. This guy was a threat, not only to me, but to Ellen, and April too. He wanted to remove me, and that would hurt them. It wasn’t going to happen.

I had my new spear in my hand in less than one heartbeat and buried up to the crossguard under his arm in two. I kept pushing.
Up over the rear rail he went, and my new spear went with him. I tried to put it back into my inventory but recognized instantly that it wouldn’t go, so I let it go as he fell. I couldn’t even hear the splash as his body hit the water. Glancing around in the dark I didn’t see any people around or cameras that might be witness to this event so I staggered back to my berth.

Lying back, I was strangely calm. I had just killed a man, but it was truly him or me. I thought back over it but couldn’t bring myself to care. First I had let a girl (who wasn’t that much younger than I was) get herself killed, and now this. What was I becoming? What had I become already?

I managed to sleep, I think.

Getting off the boat, I was hoping maybe to have the seasickness be over right away and was disappointed once again ... it doesn’t work that way unfortunately. Even hours later I wasn’t at my best when we arrived at the rendezvous. It was a small diner, and the four of us had a hard time just ordering a breakfast in French.

I’d always had the suspicion that French Toast wasn’t what the French call it.

We were finishing our “cafe” when five large, tough looking guys walked in, along with an older guy in a suit. The older guy said a few words to the rest of them and walked over to our table.

“Grant, the Guide I presume?” He asked in a familiar voice, completely devoid of accent.

“Well, I ain’t Dr. Livingstone” I snapped at him more than I meant to, I was both tired and still sick. Ellen would be disappointed in my Customer Service.

Instead of taking offence, he laughed. “I’m not sure of that, you both can be found in remote, hostile places taming the savage locals.”

I had to smile at that but wanted the conversation in a different direction.
“You seem too old to have a weapon, yet these guys are yours ... what gives?” I asked, hoping for some clarity on what was happening here.

“May we speak in private?” He asked.
I was really worried about that one. This guy had an agenda beyond portal exploration, probably more like portal explorer exploitation. I had my own version of portal exploitation that was going well, and could be put in jeopardy if it ran into an expansionist guy like this...

When we were alone in a corner booth, he folded his hands together in front of him and stared at me for a full minute or more. I was very uncomfortable, but he called this, so I tried to appear as bland as possible. He wanted something from me, and talking first lost me any edge I had (or thought I had) He sighed and finally said “I’m dying of cancer.”

I was not expecting the “Poor Me” tactic...

“Doctors give me a year, but I have a faint hope. I want you and these guys over there to find me something, an artifact, talisman, potion, whatever. I don’t know if there’s something in these Portals, but I’ll pay double the Silver value for anything you find ... in dollars.”

I was taken aback “How do you know that something from the portals can heal you?” I asked, hoping for free information. I got it.

“Didn’t you get healed when you received your weapon?” He asked rhetorically. I stayed stone faced. “One of those guys over there had HIV ... failing liver, kidneys, pneumonia ... you name it, he had maybe another 6 months to live. When the Weapons showed up, Boom!, clean bill of health. He hasn’t been remised or been back to the hospital since.

Did you know that healing potions you can buy in the game work out here?”

I didn’t ... it seemed that there was a lot I didn’t know.

“250 silver, about 300,000 dollars for one healing potion” he started “The doctors cut the biggest lump out, poured a bit in and we’re amazed that the tissue fused back together. I’ve bought 5 that these guys found, making them able to afford a few of the finer things in life, and making them honest business men at the same time, but I need something permanent and I’m hoping you can make that happen.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his honest business men were ripping him off (the potions only cost 125 Silver in the shop) ... but he was giving away free information here, so I’d sit up and shut up. “Tell me what you really want here, you can’t be spending this kind of money speculatively.” I stated, crossing my arms to reinforce the image of me being a skeptic.

He looked at me for a minute “There are groups of six allowed, as you know. We lost one guy on the last trip, 5 days ago”. He paused. “I’d like you to take a trip with these guys of mine, and give me your honest opinion of them.”
I could honestly tell him at this point that these guys were hoodlums and cheats already, but I wanted into the Blue portal.
“What if they gang up on me inside, I’d die without a grave and without anyone knowing what happened” I asked.
He looked pained “I knew that that was a possibility and I’m prepared to pay handsomely for you to take the risk.”
“Let’s just say I’m willing to take risks, since I enter these portals, for rewards. An extra 50k for the trip, on top of the regular fees you’ve paid. I give a full report on what I see inside ... good or bad. Plus, let’s call it a ‘finder’s fee’ if we happen to find something that works as a cure for your situation.” I offered, hoping I hadn’t just got myself removed from the team, but needing him to think that I was money motivated.
“Deal.” We shook on it, a real throwback kinda guy. No contract, no witnesses, just what I expected from some sort of criminal leadership type ... I thought of him as Fat Tony from the TV ... dangerous.

The portal was a drive away, my team travelled with me, and we read the Tips and Rips sheet, what it was. Two entries from two survivors of a three man team.
“Skeletons (40), graveyard underneath a cliff, Boss in the crypt has a shield and a spear. Will jab and slash.”
“Head and neck are vulnerable. Arrows useless, some climb out of the ground. Watch behind you”. RIP Ted Anston, archer.

Ominous.

The five tough guys were: Sword, trident, large club, fire staff (another one) and sling.

We talked over how the team would function.
Fire staff and sling in the rear as snipers, (I was worried just how effective the sling would be) the sword and club up front with myself and the Trident just behind, supporting or stepping in for relief. We practiced some manoeuvres with my support guys acting like skeletons advancing from the front, or popping up from the rear. We moved Trident and myself to rear guard.
Linking hands, we entered the blue portal and ended up in a normal Green Room. The guys spoke with a fairly strong French accent but were easily understood. So far.

“You spoke with the Boss for some time...” the swordsman asked, questioningly.

“Yup, he wanted me to spy on you guys, tell him if you are up to no good. Seems after the last death of one of you, he is questioning things”. I let that drop, their eyes finding each other’s.
It wasn’t such a stupid move. My Skill, when I’d activated it outside the portal looking for danger, pointed at Mr Boss, ignoring these tough guys entirely.
“The guy who died, he was ‘bosses nephew. We told him we tried to save him in the fight, we told him we tried to bring the body back. But He doesn’t believe us” he finished.