The Heart is a Void: Ashes to Ashes - Chapter 117: Gardener of Misery

Chapter 117: Gardener of Misery

“Another quest says to ‘defeat an enemy, while knocking out all of their pieces,'” Crucis said. “I’m not sure if the people making these quests know much about Arinos. But is there any way to complete this quickly? It sounds like it shouldn’t take longer than one dialogue.”

“The easiest way would be to play out a quick dialogue against the Simpleton,” Fahiz replied. “We could do that now. Do you want to play the cobra again?”

“Why not a Dragon? I’ve already seen it used against a Simpleton, so I have some idea of how that would look.”

“That makes sense, sure. I’ll play a slightly aggressive, opportunistic, defiant Simpleton, so you just need to encourage me to move forwards and then kill me.”

Fahiz handed Crucis the Dragon piece.

Enter SIMPLETON.

DRAGON. Why do you enter my lair? Is this another adventurer come to slay me?

SIMPLETON. I come in peace! No need to raise your voice like that, mister.

DRAGON. So you entered a dragon’s lair to say hello? Reasonable.

SIMPLETON. Your voice is still so loud, are you still angry? It’s even causing the cave to shake! You have such a short temper, I wonder why.

[Aside] I think he must be an Irishman. I can’t see in this pitch-black cave, but I’m sure there’s some short, angry red-haired man dressed in green in front of me. Ah, but I hate the Irish. They are a silly troupe of drunk dancers.

DRAGON. How did you know that I was Irish?

SIMPLETON. Elementary, my dear Watson.

[Pause]

DRAGON. …Yes, and now are you going to explain?

SIMPLETON. Explain? Oh, yes. Why, Irishmen, don’t you know them? They’re known as a friendly folk, just like you!

[Aside] I deceive him in my own interests. For he seems quite large and fearsome, and I do not want to tell him what I think of his countrymen, in case it leads him to attack me. I am simply being pragmatic.

DRAGON. This is too much! You explained both your previous statement, and then your explanation itself. What a gentleman!

SIMPLETON. Why, thank you.

[Aside] I am not only a gentleman, I am the finest gentleman in the world. Now, look how politely I shall treat this dragon.

SIMPLETON swings a sword at the dragon, who was prepared and sends it flying away with a claw.

DRAGON. Alas, the treachery of such a gentleman! Et tu, Brute?

SIMPLE. Who’s two? Actually, wait, I know this. ‘Tu’ is ‘you’ in French. I learned that in class. So you want to eat me!

DRAGON. Excellent deduction!

DRAGON eats SIMPLETON.

“What a sarcastic dragon,” Fahiz said. “I was surprised when it suddenly pretended to be Irish.”

“I enjoyed the overheard asides, and how oblivious your Simpleton was during them,” Crucis said. “I guessed that you wanted me to act it out like that, since you delivered the asides quite theatrically?”

“Yes, I was hinting at that, but I think you played it out well.”

“Thanks. So how would that have looked on the board?”

“Basically your Dragon, and then a bunch of rats in a vertical line towards the Simpleton, looking for an opportunity to target him. That’s quite decent and economical. You notice the Simpleton trying to infiltrate, so you send forth the infiltrating Rat to intercept him at the entrance. These Rats spur him onwards until he dies.”

“A sort of rat ray?” Crucis said.

“Yes, basically.”

“Excellent. Someday this dragon will make a fine evil overlord.”

“I also have this quest, can I try one out? I’ll just use a Rat again, if that’s fine,” Danemy said.

“Sure,” Fahiz said. “Well, last we saw your Rat, it was in Hell. How has Satan put it to work since then?”

“Not sure, running a factory?”

“Hm. Are there factories in Hell?”

“Blake spoke of ‘dark Satanic mills,’ so I think we can extrapolate that Hell probably has an industrial sector,” Crucis said.

“Well, fair enough. Let’s try this out.”

SIMPLETON. Hello. Is there anyone who runs this factory? I would like to speak to them, because I have urgent concerns about the pollution that it is causing.

Enter RAT.

SIMPLETON. A pollutant, smoke-belching factory, filled with masses of rats? This is disgusting! Who could be responsible for running this place so badly?

RAT. Me. That’s me. For we rats swarm through the smoggy factories of Hell, and run them, and are their workers. What do you wish to ask?

SIMPLETON. What kind of – this is ridiculous! You expect me to register my complaint with a rat?

RAT. Yes. That is due process.

SIMPLETON. Fine.

[Aside] This is insane. But actually, it’s not that surprising. After all, who could inhabit such a filthy, polluted factory, except for rats? It stands to reason. But they’re killing the planet! This is worse than the oil magnate we had arrested last fortnight for breaking environmental regulations.

RAT. Alright, so what is your complaint?

SIMPLETON. This factory is filthy, filled with rats, and creating massive amounts of pollution.

RAT. Can we omit the ‘filled with rats’ issue? It won’t be popular with my comrades, I think.

SIMPLETON. But who could take seriously a factory filled with rats?

RAT. …Me? I’m a rat.

SIMPLETON. It’s a mockery of environmental safety regulations. It’s – it’s an abomination! It would be a laughing-stock, in terms of environmental standards. If I brought the head of the EPA here, he would laugh his head off!

RAT. Could we eat it after that?

SIMPLETON. …Excuse me?

RAT. If his head fell off, could we eat it? I’m sure he’s quite large and would give ample portions for everyone, but either way, it would be a nice and refreshing meal after so long in this parching heat.

SIMPLETON. No, you absolutely could not! How dare you say that!

RAT. I’m not daring, I’m just famished… But anyway, on with your complaint. So you have issues with pollution, and you find the factory filthy?

SIMPLETON. Yes, especially since it’s filled with rats! Rats! Rats! Rats! It pains me to look at it! I can’t stand it!

RAT. Clearly we also live rent-free in your head.

SIMPLETON. Please be serious. Now, will you consider my complaint?

RAT. So, to ennumerate your complaints: pollution, filthy, and some incoherent screaming about rats? Is it alright if I frame that as follows? ‘They said that they disliked the pollution, and found the factories filthy, but they were so impressed with our industrious rat workers that they started screaming our praise.’

SIMPLETON. That’s not it at all. Rats are mismanaging the factory and polluting the air, rats are part of why it’s filthy. If we leave them here, I doubt the other problems can be solved. I think it’s necessary to get rid of the rats.

RAT. Look, I’m not going back in there and asking what everyone thinks of getting rid of rats. They’d just scream at me. I’d rather we just decide the matter without stirring up too much controversy in the process. So let’s just have a vote on it here and now, alright? That’s democratic. Should rats stay or should rats go? Cast your vote, and we’ll decide right now.

SIMPLETON. They should go.

RAT. I say that they should stay. So that leaves us at 50-50. A tie. As a tiebreak, I propose a penalty shoot-out.

SIMPLETON. How can a rat shoot a football?

RAT. A football? No, I meant with a vaccine. You seemed the sort who would enjoy this kind of sport.

SIMPLETON. Well… I guess we’ll see. I’m game.

RAT. We are currently producing the vaccines at warpspeed, and I’m sure they will be ready in time for the shoot-out. Now all that we need is a referee… Maybe you could bring the head of the EPA?

SIMPLETON. He has important duties to attend to, I doubt he has time to referee a ‘penalty shoot-out.’

RAT. I mean, no need to bring all of him, if that’s too much to ask. You can leave his neck behind and bring the rest.

SIMPLETON. Look, enough of this insolence! Alright, so can we at least discuss your handling of the factory? There’s smoke billowing everywhere.

RAT. I mean, it’s Hell. That happens everywhere.

SIMPLETON. But can’t you try to keep it in check? Perhaps reduce your reliance on environment-unfriendly methods, and use green power.

[Aside] Drat! If he isn’t so easily convinced, I will have to dramatise the impact, to bring home to him how concerning it is.

RAT. Our current methods are quite productive, and Satan is especially pleased with them because they provide him a good way to supply the army of Hell with weaponry before the War in Heaven. He has heard in the Book of Revelation that he is destined to lose this war, but he would like to give himself as good a chance as possible. After all, one should be cautious with assuming biblical literalism applies in practical matters. But please explain why our methods are a problem.

SIMPLETON. If you don’t change, then the world will be set afire! A great, fifty-horned beast shall rise from the sea, and deceive the world! And the world shall become like the fires of Hell, due to this wickedness!

RAT. But why is that a problem? I quite like it here. And didn’t you just take a bunch of imagery from the Bible?

SIMPLETON. The world will be engulfed in a great flood! And the flames will destroy all the children!

RAT. That’s fine, we don’t have children in Hell. In fact, that was a big decision. When God was setting out the regulations for Heaven and Hell, he hesitated for a time, wondering where he would send all of the dead, innocent children. Strictly speaking, they had no time to repent for original sin, so some angels thought that he should send them to Hell. But he, in his infinite agape, decided that he couldn’t really tell most of them apart, so he’d send them all to Heaven.

SIMPLETON. But can’t you be empathetic about this issue? It’s not just about you. It’s about our kind!

[Aside] I am most shocked by what I have seen here. This management has not only a lack of environmental regulations, but also of basic empathy and love for fellow-man. Further, the place is covered in rats and smoke, and one barely has the capacity to breathe. I hope that their authorities will take appropriate actions, because I doubt that these rats will.

RAT. Possibly, but I’m looking at it from Lord Satan’s perspective, since we’d have to report it to him and it will be his decision. So something like, ‘Our factories are polluting the Earth and ruining God’s creation, please give your feedback’? Honestly, I might well tell him that anyway, maybe I’ll get a promotion.

SIMPLETON. Is there any way you could report it to somebody who isn’t Satan? Maybe someone who can take a more measured perspective of the moral implications and the emergency threat to human life?

RAT. Hm… No, can’t think of anyone. I mean, we’re in Hell, it’s not like I’m going to be reporting to the saints and the Holy Ghost.

SIMPLETON. Who typically inspects your factory?

RAT. Beelzebub, of course. He’s the Lord of the Flies, so he brings his flies and we have to leave enough muck lying around to make them happy. They’ll settle in, and praise us, at which point Beelzebub himself will be satisfied and give us a glowing recommendation. Sometimes, he’ll even give us children to eat as a reward, he smuggles them into Hell – and has to kill them first, otherwise they’ll squeal and be confiscated by customs – and calls them ‘piggies.’

SIMPLETON. But can’t you think of some other authority than Satan or Beelzebub who will give my case a due hearing?

RAT. Still no. But didn’t I make that clear earlier?

SIMPLETON. Well, try your best. Ha, your best! You are only a rat! I doubt your best will be enough!

[Aside] I swear, if I walked away now he’d probably just ignore my suggestions. He has no guilt for what he has done, no guilt for breaking regulations. Rats! How I hate them!

RAT. How impolite.

SIMPLETON. And you know what else? I’m astounded! How dare you run this factory like this! Oooh, a rat, having basic decency and following government regulations? But I can’t be nice and follow environmental regulations, I’m just a filthy rat!

RAT. No, you aren’t. Stop bluffing. Don’t try to rise above your station, punk.

SIMPLETON. How dare you! I’ll have you arrested! Look, I didn’t get my position as ‘Environmental Safety Inspector and Holy Arbiter of Green Manufacture’ for nothing.

RAT. Yes, in all likelihood you won everyone over with some sterling speech about rats. ‘Rats! Rats! Rats!’ Yes?

SIMPLETON. No, I was selected and promoted by people in important positions. And you don’t want to mess with them. It pains me to say this, as I view myself as a voice of dissent talking sense to the elites, but I had to put aside such concerns in order to take up my role.

RAT. How did they prepare you for the role? Did they shove rats into your head?

SIMPLETON. No, why would they do that?

RAT. I read about it somewhere. If you’re a real dissident, then they shove rats into your head. I guess you didn’t merit it, then.

SIMPLETON. That’s preposterous! Who ever heard of such a thing!

RAT. Well, me, clearly. Anyway, here is the vaccine for the shoot-out.

A vaccine and needle are rolled up by a rat from the factory.

RAT. Excellent. Now we can have the shoot-out. We shall see who can be vaccinated more over a short time-frame.

SIMPLETON. Excellent!

[Aside] I’d guess I might be able to win this. It plays to my strengths. Then maybe a new manager will take over from this rat, and will listen to me.

RAT. Alright, your jab is first. Take the vaccine, and inject it into your upper arm, around the deltoid muscle near your shoulder.

As the SIMPLETON enthusiastically but carefully raises the vaccine to their right arm, holding onto it with both hands, the RAT uses the opportunity and bites the SIMPLETON’s ankle. He then shakes his fur a bit, sending a few fleas leaping onto the SIMPLETON’s leg.

SIMPLETON. How dare you!

RAT. To be honest, the vaccine was just a placebo. So I just gave you a real jab to make up for it. Now you have the black plague, and cancer. Happy New Year!

SIMPLETON. Both at once?

RAT. Yes, when you are bitten by a rat from Hell and our fleas, you get not only the black plague, but also cancer as a bonus.

SIMPLETON. Drat!

The SIMPLETON falls to the ground, suffering intensely from disease, and then dies.

Crucis, who was casually inspecting the chessboard by Ala-ud-din, had been listening in on this game of Arinos with interest.

“Well done, guys,” Crucis said. “That was quite exciting. A clever rat, as well.”

“Thanks,” Danemy replied, looking around. “By the way, do you know where Sharak went?”

“I think his room is around the back of this building, and can only be reached through the backdoor,” Crucis said. “He went there to get some maps of Arcorus.”

“Yeah, Sharak stays out the back, and I stay here,” Fahiz said. “Someone has to keep an eye on the automatons, after all.”

“Fair enough. Do you mind explaining this position, by the way? It’s a bit complex, I’m not quite sure what it means.”

“Is this for the dialogue between Lucifer and the Rat?”

“Yeah.”

Crucis gestured towards the chessboard, where Ala-ud-din had laid out several Arinos pieces. Each player’s pieces inhabited one half of the board.

Rat Cobra Jackal Rat Mountain Jormungandr Rat Dragon Rat Rat Mountain Jackal Rat Mountain

“That does look somewhat complex,” Fahiz said. “Basically, your Lucifer positions himself as a Rat-like infiltrator of sorts, and starts enquiring of the other player to know more about his surroundings. However, he’s also insistent on loyalty to the grandiose location, and hence the Jackal, which is sort of like a locational conscience or a more demanding Lynx. This leads to the Mountain – Jormungandr connection, since he portrays Hell as a mighty, mountain-like landscape to be wondered at, and at the same time functions as the mediator who frames this grandeur and insists on its recognition, hence as a sort of patriotic figurehead for it. Thus the Jormungandr. Finally, this Mountain was portrayed as a challenge to the interlocutor and hence is akin to an infiltration or Rat, but also a Dragon. That at least explains the position as you see it, though the AI probably applied some of the more arcane rules to get there quickly.”

“Whew, that’s quite a lot,” Crucis said. “Alright, so how come most of my side is rats, but there’s a couple of large pieces stacked on the far side, the Jormungandr and Dragon?”

“In a literal sense, because the demanding Jackal still uses the Mountain as a lever for its demands, and this is represented through the Jormungandr and Dragon. But it seems more likely that you’re attempting to pressure the other side’s right flank. That’s not surprising, since you seem like a capable Assassin.”

“What kind of pressure do you mean?”

“For instance, when the Rat attempted to start a sob story, Lucifer immediately balked and turned the discussion back to the terrain of Hell. Pieces here are right-handed, so by pressuring the right side you prevent them from stabilising. This turns back focus to the grandeur and destructive fires of Hell, rather than the other side’s backstory or characterisation. Since Danemy acquiesced gracefully, he didn’t expand further rightwards, though I think that’s to his advantage because it helped keep his character more ratty and unpredictable.”

“I see. Yeah, that sounds reasonable. By the way, these automatons are quite impressive, they can play chess, Arinos, and write all kinds of things. What else can automatons do here?”

“Well, there are some automatons in Arcorus which can sketch or even make paintings, sometimes even large paintings with multiple of them working in tandem. The Emperor was once a painter, but he holds some spite for the profession, and has had most professional artists killed and replaced by automatons. So if you head East, I’m sure you’ll catch some of their artworks. They also have plenty to do various odd jobs, calculations, and other things alongside the undead.”

“I heard that there was some sort of simple AI text game named ‘Text Freihet’ in Kruxol and other towns, which could be played on some screens at the Inn. Does that have any connection to the automatons?”

“No, that’s a much simpler mechanism. Since anyone can run into it easily, it’s not that creative or capable of producing unsettling content. So they just used a simple, pared-back version of the ‘AI’ which mostly gives generic answers. Unlike our automatons, it doesn’t really learn or give new answers that haven’t been vetted in advanced. Actually, there’s something that we intended to ask about, if someone from Kruxol visited here. Would you guys mind doing us a favour when you go back?”