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Chapter 8: Collective Bargaining.

"Okay, let me down." Krystal complied with my wish, setting me down gently at the base of the tree I had pointed her toward. As my hearing was still literally shot her telepathy was the only way she could effectively communicate with me. Would I get it back, and if so how long would it take? Was I looking at a recovery time of hours, or days? We didn't have either.

'Danger or no, I can't let you join me in this condition, Adam.' Krystal glanced down at me, her hand still placed upon my shoulder. 'You've lost much blood and you're in no shape to go back into combat.' She was concerned, yes, but I still had to make sure I could get back into the fight somehow.

"See that tree over there next to this one?" I pointed towards the indicated foliage; directing her notice to the branches which were laden with cantaloupe-sized fruit. "In the game world those Dumbledang pods have healing qualities. It's worth a shot. All you need to do is give that tree a good smack with your staff. I'm pretty sure we're both starving and have time for a quick snack before helping the Queen."

After shooting me what looked like an exhausted glare she stood up and walked over to the tree. It looked like she was saying something, but I got nothing over the alternating buzzing and high-pitched ringing in my ears. She pulled her staff from the belt she had taken from my wardrobe, extended it, and took a pretty healthy swing at the tree. I was probably imaging it, but I could have sworn I faintly heard the 'crack' as she landed the strike. The tree swayed and three of the pods tumbled to the ground. Within a minute she had gathered them and made her way back to me. Another quick smack of the staff split one of them open, which she offered to me with a skeptical look on her vulpine features. Her hand once more returned to my shoulder for the chance of conversation. 'I don't think this will work, but I'll humor you. I expect you to watch the Queen and Tricky while I'm down there.'

"Alright. If I don't heal right up I'll babysit them for you. Sheesh. You're as bad as my sister." My voice likely carried along a pretty healthy dose of sarcasm, but I tried livening it up with a silly grin before glancing down to my meal. The fruit itself was a deep orange with no visible seeds, the glistening texture of its meat reminiscent to a grapefruit. Good thing I wasn't much affected by sour tastes; I could eat grapefruit all day. Lacking a spoon all I really could do was dig in with my hands.

The Dumbledang pod was pretty tasty. It wasn't ambrosia, but if my local Kroger carried them a few would be on my weekly shopping list. It was sweet but not too sweet. The taste was indescribable, somewhat like a cross between a grape and a pear; its own unique flavor added an exotic note to the whole thing. Considering the last thing I had eaten was a can of tuna and some crackers several hours ago, I wolfed it down like it was a free steak dinner at one of those ritzy restaurants my cousin liked to blog about.

I wasn't expecting miracles, though I didn't mind the sticky hands until they started feeling warm. I held them up to my face, my eyes widening as the warmth continued; various small scratches and my hangnails started to fade away as if they hadn't been there. My whole body felt invigorated, though it was obvious that the fruit's effects weren't a total cure-all. The buzzing and ringing ceased, which caused me to call over to Krystal. "I think I got my hearing back. Say something?"

"Really?" I could hear her response. It was tinny and muffled; like I had just been through a pretty intense rock concert, but I could actually hear her. She looked up from her own pod, shooting me an expression which was either quizzical or one of annoyance. I hadn't quite gotten a peg on which was which. "Are you still bleeding?"

My side still felt pretty sore. Frankly it was hard to tell if I was still bleeding as the bandage was spotted through with blood. All I could tell was that it wasn't as agonizingly painful as it had been. What I neglected to tell her, however, was that I was in possibly the worst shape I had ever been in my life. She may have been a videogame character in some insane delusion of mine, but without her help I would have died. I couldn't let that particular good deed go unpunished. "I'm not sure, but it feels much better. Enough to do some spelunking." I shot her a wry grin; she wasn't getting rid of me that easily.

"You're a stubborn one." With a sigh she nodded towards the direction of the well; her accent giving her an almost matronly tone when she spoke. "You can come along. Just be careful and let me know if you're not doing well." We continued to eat in silence, our brief respite giving us a chance to actually take in the beauty of the place.

The morning air was fresh and scented with the mixture of blooming flowers and pine trees which grew in the areas farther from the valley. The sun was low enough to still cast the place in a reddish-orange glow, giving the place an ethereal quality which made me wish I had my camera. It likely still had a charge; I'd be taking that along with me once I got back to the house. The constant rush of water from the nearby creek stilled my thoughts for a moment; if I hadn't been fighting for my life for the past day or so I would have thought I was relaxing in a national park.

Krystal looked like she was enjoying the brief break as well. She looked worse than I felt; giving credence to the possibility this wasn't some sort of dream. Her headfur was mussed up like she had gotten out of bed, and the clothes I had given her were soaked and bloodstained. That was my blood, most likely. We were running ragged, but we still had a job to do. It was hard to, especially with the peace and quiet. We may have been in the eye of the storm, but my habit of procrastination got the better of me. I finished the Dumbledang pod and tucked the rind next to the tree I was reclined against, the sunshine warming my body against the chill of my damp clothes.

The break was over all too soon. My Cerinian ally stood up and extended a hand to me, which I reluctantly took. Partially as I wasn't all that comfortable with physical contact, and partially because I really didn't want this break to be over. We both needed more rest than this, but it was time to buck up and do what we needed to do. With her help I managed to my feet, feeling much better than I had been when she set me down. "Thanks." I offered, taking stock of my physical condition. I felt a little jittery and cold, my headache was still a nagging presence, and I wasn't about to peel off Krystal's bandage job to check my side. It would have to do.

"We've got enough time to get into some new clothes and find some supplies at your place." Krystal led the way as I strode behind her, listening to her explanation as we went. "We're going to need a light source, and possibly some rope. We may need your other long weapon, too. What did you call it, a shotgun?" I didn't think I had mentioned it around her, to be honest.

"Yeah. It's what I've got the most ammo for, too." We reached my house, which stood on land alien to Sauria yet native to my homeworld. I could see parts of the fences which had surrounded it, cut as if someone had taken a giant laser and surgically removed my dwelling off the face of the Earth. Something nagged at the back of my mind. The place felt dead. The life had been sucked out of it somehow. It sounded silly, but it was the only way I could describe it. "I've got a couple of flashlights, but no rope. You still have my .45?"

She paused for a moment, plucking my handgun from the waistband of her borrowed pants; the weapon soon returning to my grasp. As we made it onto my front porch I checked the chamber and the magazine. I would need to stock up on ammo, but at least I was still in the green for now. "I should have enough for mine. We don't have much time, so let's make this quick." I blinked at her answer to my unspoken question and her down-to-business attitude.

"I get that a lot." She smirked at me. I rolled my eyes as we entered the house. This was going to be a very long day indeed.

---

Getting out of damp, bloody clothing was a little slice of heaven after our ordeal on the mountain. It didn't make up for the fuzzy hearing, headache, or blood loss, but it was a start. The bad news was that my leather jacket was neigh near ruined. Damn thing had cost me an entire paycheck. I guess it didn't matter now, other than the fact it was one more link to home down the drain. I opted for a pair of slacks and a fresh T-shirt; simple yet a bit more comfortable and easier to move around in. At this rate I would be out of clean clothes pretty soon, taking into account how many pairs of pants Krystal would have to make alterations to.

The bandage job was holding out nicely despite the pain; I had popped a few aspirin to manage it as best I could. The thought that I should be in a hospital kept running through my mind, but that wasn't exactly an option I could take. With a sigh I opened the door to my bedroom, revealing Krystal sitting on my couch with the duffel bags I had plucked from the basement. She was rooting through them, presumably trying to find supplies.

"I found a pair of what look like utility vests. Here, put one on." Without further preamble she tossed one to me. I barely caught it; John was one of those people who were fairly well prepared for a 'shit hits the fan' scenario. It was already loaded with magazines and other gear. It would have been great, except I didn't have access to the firearms the magazines were intended to go into. All in all I tossed six AK and four Glock mags back into the bag; replacing them with the ones for my .45 and a copious amount of shotgun shells.

"And this." I could see her grin as she handed my old sword to me, patting her hip expectantly. "You won't have any ammunition troubles with it at least. Once we have some time I'll train you." Yeah. Getting the crap smacked out of me in a sparring session was something I was really looking forward to.

I attached the weapon to the vest's integrated pistol belt after transferring all of my other stuff to it. It fit better than my utility belt and was overall better-balanced, though I failed to see what Krystal was trying to do with all of it. "And this matters how?" I inquired, noticing she was sporting the vest John had meant for his now ex-wife. Like I mentioned, the guy was a bit of a preparation nut.

"You said it was dangerous to go down there, and we haven't had a good record of keeping it together so far." The vixen had a point; her plans had a pretty good success rate so far while I was surviving by the skin of my teeth. "You're going to run out of ammunition eventually, and unlike blasters these things require constant reloading. If you don't have other options to fall back on you're going to get yourself killed."

"Fine." I huffed, turning around and retrieving my shotgun. That was non-negotiable, and frankly the idea of me running around with a sword and going Conan on a bunch of Sharpclaw was neigh near ridiculous. "But, until I'm desperate in the ammo department Mr. Sharp and Pointy is going to be my last line of defense."

"Alright." She continued to root through the bags, another question asked as a non sequitor. "You mentioned it being dangerous down there. What sorts of foes will we face? More Sharpclaw?" That was the $64,000 question I actually had the answer to; at least I thought I did.

"Nothing we're going to have to shoot, stab, or smash. Our main problem is going to be those huge red mushrooms. They seem to release a cloud of spores when agitated, and I'm afraid they might be very dangerous. They may even be lethal." Visions of that old X-Files episode filled my mind; I didn't want to buy the farm that way.

"We'll need breathing protection, then." Krystal summed it up in one. The only question was how and where to obtain it. "Is that what these for?" The vixen held up two more objects from John's duffel bag; the slightly unnerving, Darth Vader-escue profiles of gas masks staring me in the face. "I doubt these would fit me."

"Our anatomical differences would make it difficult at best." I replied, plucking the mask from her outstretched grasp. "That was John's hobby, preparing and training for the Zombie Apocalypse or some other collapse of society scenario that he thought was remotely possible." We still needed to find something for her to use, although the thought of going it alone crossed my mind.

That was quickly quashed. "You are not going down there by yourself. I am not exaggerating the fact you very nearly died just a few hours ago. You might feel fine now, but we have no idea how long those healing effects are going to last." She looked up at me again, and I could see how exhausted she actually was. We both were running on empty. No amount of posturing or pride was going to help; brutal honesty and smart decisions were the only way we were going to live through this. "I know you're trying to protect me, and your willingness to do so is admirable. However, if you get even more seriously injured or killed, all your effort will be for naught."

"So will yours." My reply caused Krystal to glance back down at the duffel bags, an almost imperceptible sigh given in response to that simple truth. "We're both tired, injured, and in serious need of regrouping. We don't have the time to do that yet, so we need to rely on each other. Going down there alone is dangerous, but you don't have the proper equipment..."

"...I have an idea." Krystal replied, gesturing towards the door. "Kyte told me of a hermit named Shabunga here in Thorntail Hollow. He's a merchant of sorts, scavenging whatever he can find to sell to Saurians; mostly Sharpclaw and Lightfoot. It's common knowledge he found and stripped a few Lylatian wrecks. He likely has a LISA that I could use."

"A lisa?" I arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm going to assume you aren't talking about hiring someone named Lisa to jump into that well on your behalf." Though, I had to admit that if we could find a temp agency for unlikely do-gooders such as ourselves I wouldn't be too hesitant to hand over my credit card.

That remark caused her to chuckle. "No, no... I mean a Life Support Array, LISA for short. It's a standard addition to a pilot's flight suit; uses power packs to provide atmosphere. It's good for up to three hours in vacuum. If we can find one I will be adequately protected against the lava fumes in addition to the mushroom spores."

I nodded. "That will definitely help. This gas mask you found should provide similar protection for me. After that we'll be set. Let's get over to that shop and see what kind of deal we can wheedle out of that 'ol miser."

---

For the second time in this crazy, meandering adventure I strode into Shabunga's cavern storefront. The two of us had spent the previous half hour fishing up scarabs from under rocks and in the little hidey-holes they made in the ground. Krystal's telepathy helped big-time in seeking the creatures out; once we had some downtime I wanted to ask her exactly how her talents worked.

As expected, the aging, cantankerous Saurian hovered over to us expectantly, his beady eyes regarding our human and vulpine forms with a mixture of disdain and greed. She held one of my pillowcases, puffed outward with the squirming, snapping insects we acquired. The shopkeeper's gaze seemed to drift towards it with more frequency than he regarded either of us. "Welcome to my store. Now are you going to stare around or are you going to actually buy something?"

"We're here to buy." I got straight to the point. We didn't have time to waste and the feeling was mutual on his end. "We're looking for anything you might have scavenged from Lylatian wrecks. A pilot's suit and life support system, in particular. Got anything like that?"

The shopkeeper blinked at us, perhaps dredging up a memory of what he actually kept in the subterranean bazaar we currently occupied. After an awkward pause he nodded, maneuvering his hoverchair towards an entrance to one of the numerous subsections inside the main cave. "All my salvaged goods are in here. Feel free to take a look, but I don't suffer cheapskates."

We followed him inside what I recalled as the cavern where the scarab gambling game was played. In reality the pit was filled with several tables upon which piles of equipment were placed. I assumed most of them were starship components; by the way Krystal started rifling through them she was hot on the trail of what she was looking for. I decided to browse through several of them, though I figured I wouldn't know what anything was used for.

I was more or less correct about that. Other than several weapons I assumed to be blaster pistols and rifles that looked far beyond my skill level to repair, the tables of alien technology held more mysteries to me than they did answers. Most of it looked like discarded electronic components and broken computers; stuff that nobody would really have a use for.

Something did catch my eye, however. A twisted mass of nearly inch thick cables and very heavy-duty tiedowns were haphazardly piled at the foot of one of the tables. The beginnings of an idea entered my mind as I moved closer to inspect the cables. They looked quite sturdy; perhaps far sturdier than what I had in mind.

I reached out to grasp them but from out of nowhere a scaly hand smacked my palm away. Shaunga's irritated, croaking voice rasped out from just behind me. "No touching _anything_without paying for it. Fifty scarabs."

We had collected somewhere between thirty and fifty, which didn't leave enough for Krystal's breathing gear. I didn't see her close by, so I decided to ply the shopkeeper for more information. "Where did you find all this, anyway?" I adopted my best barely interested tone of voice and posture.

"Years ago a Lylatian craft crashed nearby, furless one." Shabunga sounded impatient, as if he was waiting for something. He had likely negotiated with Krystal, but where was she? "After the crew was rescued nobody bothered to take along any of the wreckage, so I took what I could sell to the Sharpclaw and Lightfoot."

I was about to respond but was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned around and tried not to gawk a second time. Krystal stood a few feet away, dressed in the flight gear I assumed she had just purchased. It was almost exactly like her outfit in Assault, except for the fact the colors were a dark green and black. The form-fitting suit looked simply stunning on her athletic frame, and the bashful smile on her features just simply sealed the deal. I would have given a thousand dollars for my camera right at that moment, but as it was I had left it back inside the house. "Uhm, did you find something?" She gestured over to the table with her left hand; her right arm was cradling a full-faced flight helmet with polarized eyepieces. It looked like something right out of Star Wars.

"Some cables that could be good for climbing or hauling some pretty heavy stuff." I motioned her to the equipment, which she regarded with a puzzled glance. "How much do we have left after your gear?"

"Fifteen scarabs. My LISA was thirty. We don't really need to save anything right now, so you can buy them if you really want to." I hoped she caught onto the fact I was planning something.

"No, that's too low." Shabunga piped in with that particularly annoying nugget. It would have been irritating even if I hadn't already heard it several hundred times while playing the damned game. Time to shut him up.

"Listen. I'm willing to bet these cables have been sitting down here for many years and you haven't had the least bit of interest. I'm offering you what we have left. You already sold my friend some gear that couldn't possibly fit any Saurian at a pretty tidy profit." I waved over toward the vixen, motioning to the flightsuit she now wore. "You didn't pay jack shit for any of this. Take it or leave it."

With a heavy sigh Shabunga conceded. "Oh, alright. It'll save me the shelf space. Just take it and get out." As Krystal passed him the pillowcase full of squirming insect currency I slung the mass of cables over my shoulders. They were pretty heavy, but far lighter than what I would have expected. Apparently Lylatian technologies used some very strong yet lightweight materials.

As we clambered out of the shop my impassive expression finally cracked, firing off a grin which should have been on a cat that found its way into an aviary. Krystal's expression was more like the one I would have expected from a worried parent. "Exactly what happened back there? I don't figure you bought those if we can't use them."

"It'll have to wait after we fish those mushrooms out of that well, but I've got an idea how we can use these to great effect." As we skipped over the creek I made a beeline for my car, which happened to be about the only secure place I could really store something. It took a moment for me to extract the ziplock bag holding my car keys from one of the vest's pockets, but within moments the mass of cables were stored and locked in the trunk.

As I was dumping the new purchase into my car, Krystal made her point perfectly clear. "After we help the Queen, we need to get ourselves looked at. I'm still not convinced the fruit you found is anything more than a temporary respite. We also need food and a safe place to sleep. Your dwelling is too easily compromised. I think we should try to get to my ship after our business here."

She had a pretty good point. My doors wouldn't be too hard for some whackjob on PCP to kick down. Considering even the smaller Sharpclaw were about the size of your average NFL linebacker there wouldn't be a contest. As long as the house was still standing when we got back there was still a chance that my crazy, harebrained scheme would actually pay off. "Alright. I'll load up the car before we go down that well. I'm not planning on walking all the way to your ship if I can help it."