Changeling
(78): The Guilds

Nestra inserted her roadster in the slow lane and the long line of expensive cars making their way down the ramp. It was 8:19AM. She had planned to arrive early because she expected a lot of people to show up.

In front of her, the road opened towards the domineering pillar of the Gidung megastructure. It was, Nestra had to admit, imposing. The tower rose from a lush park, all post-modern lines in glass and steel, then halfway through the walls disappeared under a vertical garden so dense there were actual small trees there. Balconies and bulbous extensions gave the pillar an organic aspect, then, at the top, the guild’s personal quarters emerged like a castle from a mountain, all under a massive sloped roof that could have come straight from Seoul’s fortress. The old one, that is. It was like watching a reverse timeline yet the different elements merged in the way they remained subdued and simple, mostly unadorned. Nestra had trouble reconciling this appearance of humility with the impossible greed displayed in District Fifteen, half a year and an eternity before.

Although she’d expected to be stuck in traffic, the flow of cars and hovercrafts didn’t stop as the visitors were shepherded by an assortment of security drones and guards to various outer parkings. More than a few of the locals gave her pink trophy a second glance. The Gidung Alda convertible was a limited edition showpiece favored by young male scions. The fact Nestra had it painted like an eccentric confection gave them smiles and grimaces depending, she supposed, on their love for nice cars. As an unimportant person, Nestra found herself on the third floor of a secondary mall. Smoothing her anthracite dress, she took the elevator down in the company of other third order guild leaders, most of them young like herself. Well, youngish. She was halfway to thirty already! The walk to the park was a good opportunity to take in her surroundings. There were corpos leaving the building in cars and buses, all wearing the obligatory business suit and deep in their visors, or implants. They were focused and scattered and they smelled of coffee. There were also security people in understated armor with no visible weaponry, though there were enough crates and vehicles to make that true for at most a few seconds if something happened. Those were doing their best to be polite and helpful to the influx of guests. Nestra would be too, in their shoes. The last category, of which Nestra was a tentative member, were the guild leaders. And by Riel was it obvious. If raiders were monuments of ego and deadly prowess, the guild leaders were this and more, commanders with a chip on their shoulder and a tendency to expect others to do as they say. Nestra remained all smiles but there were a few narrow looks and tense walks around. Mana didn’t leak much yet, which meant the ambient concentration was only as high as within a D-class portal right now.

A nice guard invited Nestra to queue in an orderly manner. Aesthetically pleasant employees in pristine hanbok walked along the line, subserviently presenting drinks. Nestra gave Gidung credit for distracting the apex assholes with offerings of tasty liquids. It would definitely work on her. She still refused another cup of coffee.

The reason for the queue became quickly apparent. Gidung wouldn’t dare subject such august visitors to personal checks but there were detectors and firm requests to leave weapons in the changing room. To a raider, their body was a weapon but Nestra supposed it was a matter of courtesy. A symbol. She hadn’t been stupid enough to sneak in her Windowmaker, of course. It wouldn’t have helped anyway, not with the most powerful B-class of Threshold in attendance. As she moved forward at a snail pace, her thoughts traveled to the hovercrafts landing above her head, their occupants undoubtedly spared this ignominy.

Rich cunts.

Soon, it was Nestra’s turn. She went through the doorway, paying limited attention to the camera checking her credentials. That was until it beeped ominously.

The security guards shifted. The doll-like greeter’s face turned flat. Nestra felt a tinge of worry crawl up her spine, whispering about crashing drones and the smug face of Bard killing her teammates. Below the surface, her true body twitched once, ready. She noticed the way the security guard balanced themselves on their feet, suddenly filled with worry. They were definitely on guard now. What was going on?

Behind her, brief flashes of mana announced the presence of more raiders. Without waiting, however, the local Gidung officer approached. He was a powerful C-class, probably a raider from the potent air affinity.

“Hmm?” he said, looking at a nearby screen. “Aha. Terribly sorry about this, Guild Leader Palladian. If you could just come to the side? We need to check something quickly. It won’t take long.”

The welcome doll invited her to the side and offered another cup of coffee, which Nestra accepted this time. She brought up her visor to check if there was something wrong with her invitation. The temptation to ask if it was because her guild was too new was strong, but she was still a career cop. Never volunteer any information.

“It appears the system has tagged you as… having a history with us, yes? Not to worry, this is neutral ground.”

Nestra crossed her arms after deliberately placing the coffee cup back on its tray.

“So can I go or is there going to be a problem?” she asked, a bit loudly.

“As I said,” the guard replied in a diplomatic voice. “We are just checking your file to identify why the system would tag you. I appreciate your patience at this time, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“I can save you the trouble. I sent your guy Watkins to the Red House and sunk the District Fifteen project as part of Threshold’s law enforcement. Probably cost you a few hundred million creds in market cap as well. To be fair though, you did try to kill me twice first,” Nestra said, unamused.

The guard gave an uneasy smile. Behind them, the security guards’ efforts to empty the lobby was failing as other leaders stopped as a gesture of tacit support. The ambient mana rose yet again.

“Everything appears to be in order,” the guard quickly said. “Please, come in.”

Nestra huffed then left, other leaders closing rank around her. A stout, bald anglo with a cold affinity gave her a measuring look.

“Hit them in the wallet? Kudos.”

“Thanks.”

The confrontation hadn’t lasted very long, so Nestra let it go. It would never have occurred to her to visit the Gidung arcology. It still miffed her that they would have the gall to preemptively ban her like that. The audacity. After they started it! Regardless, more staff guided them to elevators situated around an imposing main hall leading to an inner, shadowy park plunged in darkness. She missed being huge when the press of bodies pushed her uncomfortably close to a tall girl’s armpit. Not everyone had picked elegant clothes; some preferred to show their martial might which was all well and good until they poked Nestra in the back with their fucking armguards. Seriously, who did that?

The elevator took off so quickly the Gs in there became noticeable, which was not a burden for raiders but made her uncomfortably aware of her bladder. She was deposited on the 127th floor and led through dark corridors by immaculately dressed attendants, most of them sporting golden augmentations. Nestra was directed to the second floor of what looked like an amphitheater — probably used by the shareholders during important meetings. Each seat had a screen in front of it with a name written on it. It didn’t take long for an attendant to show her hers. The seats were comfortable, and the room smelled faintly of pine and sandalwood. She looked around.

The second floor seats were arranged in a court around a central half-circle where the leaders of the largest guilds gathered. All those people she could see in news reports and raid announcements were down here, moving far too quickly and shaking hands in a cordial manner that was at odds with her understanding of the world. Nestra recognized the short Korean man with his white hair brushed back as the Gidung founder, Sun. He was a rare light and earth user. A tall Japanese woman with eyes like the deepest ink had to be Mariko Shimizu, the founder and leader of Touhei heavy industries. An old man Nestra had met during Valerian’s trial acted as envoy of the less centralized Baihe while Wellington was represented by a rugged anglo who looked like he’d been baked before given the amount of scar tissue. They were all B-rank. In the case of Sun and Shimizu, reputedly very close to ascension. There was enough raw firepower down there to kill a small nation.

Nestra sat down. There was no one to her left yet, and the person to her right was engrossed in a discussion. She studied the screen while the hubbub of conversation kept increasing with more people trickling into the large chamber. It looked like her terminal would be used for voting but also for gathering and grouping questions, remarks, and suggestions. She wondered if those would be handled by AI or by trained people. Probably a mix of both. Little by little, people joined their seats as 9AM approached. Peering as she might, she didn’t recognize anyone around her. All those she’d seen before were old heads milling about in the pit, in large groups of grumpy old gleams. It wasn’t their bodies, it was the way they moved and talked like they were old friends, or sometimes, bitter rivals. After a while, even those returned to their assigned seats.

Nestra found her dad and An Ren, leader of the allied Century Guild at the back of the main floor. They might have felt something because they both gave her a little wave. She wanted to return it, but sadly she had to look cool in front of all the other kids on the upper floor.

“Welcome, everyone,” a firm voice started.

Nestra focused her attention on the speaker, Sun. He stood at the center of the assembly, a lit screen at his back. The large construct translated his words in seven different languages.

It was completely useless in the age of visors but whatever. Probably another symbolic gesture.

“Welcome to the Pillar for this extraordinary session of the Syndicate of Guilds. The purpose of this reunion is to address the unprecedented attack on our rights perpetrated by Councillor Hunnigan, many of which are even now being challenged in court. The details will be available in an information packet being sent to your screens right now. I will summarize them into four major points of contention.

“One, guilds would be made financially and legally responsible for any monster-related damage occurring within their ‘area of influence’, a nebulous concept that Hunnigan has yet to fully define but that would make it so that we pay for anything monsters do. Second, special arrangements ranging from charity work to masks are being rescinded in favor of a unified model, eliminating the incentives to assist with non-profitable or non-desirable projects. Third, the so-far immutable tax rate on non-auctioned portals would be heightened for no specific purpose and in exchange for nothing. Fourth, and last, sales of raw material will be conducted using prices fixed by the government.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Nestra wasn’t aware of that last point. The Little People League’s purpose was to clear portals no one wanted to handle, so exploitation contracts were not a factor for her. It would be for her parents though. Hunnigan was going after the finances. Hard.

“Our purpose is simple: we will force the cancellation of every point. What he is attempting is nothing but a naked power grab backed by intimidation. Teams have already clashed with representatives ordering immediate changes. Some portals are being double, and sometimes triple-booked to account for refusals.”

So that was why human Nestra was scheduled to clear three portals just today by order of the government — something they didn’t have the authority to demand.

“In order to do so, we must first come up with a list of achievable, sustainable retaliatory measures that will not endanger the city’s survival.”

Sun stopped for a moment to see if anyone would react. Nobody did. It was also then that Nestra realized Sun had been speaking very slowly by gleam standards, barely faster than what a baseline would find comfortable. She appreciated the gesture towards little babies like herself.

Or maybe the room’s acoustics just didn’t allow it.

“And a second thing: do not suggest violence against Hunnigan and his minions no matter how tempting it may sound. This is a legal assembly.”

The warning made a few people smile. Nestra wasn’t surprised that raiders would add ‘violence’ at the top of their problem-solving skills.

“Unless there are objections, we will first proceed with the brainstorming session. Please write your suggestions on your designated computers. They will be aggregated by dedicated moderators picked among the top four guilds. After this is done, we will proceed with a first round of votes, then discuss the top recommendations. A second round of votes will follow. The fine details will be organized by committees. Now we begin with the brainstorming. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the question box of your computers. Let’s get started.”

Wow that was… much more down-to-earth than she expected. She’d attended more formal MaxSec meetings. No speeches? No jokes? Looking around, she realized most people near her were writing suggestions. By the time her hand landed on the keyboard, there were already more than seventeen posts, but then they were merged into eleven only a few seconds later. That was the perk of working with strong gleams. The bad thing was that she was already left behind.

She only had one suggestion. It was a concession more than a counter-measure, but she figured it would help with the source of the problem: multiple breaches caused by an insufficient number of raiders.

“Reinstate the Three-day Memorandum.”

She typed it in, detailing her suggestion. The memorandum had been abolished in 2057 after the city was deemed fully secured inside of its walls. It stated that by law, there should always be enough raiders inside the walls to handle three days of portals. In effect, it would limit the number of gleams who could be deployed for outside projects like the land reclamation one. She wasn’t sure it would have changed anything in this case since everyone had been deployed to handle the kaiju, tide, and attack on the bridge world. It wasn;t like raiders had been away or something. It might have still saved some who were caught overextended in the tide, and would still be an important symbolic gesture to reassure the city that the guilds did, in fact, care. She entered it.

To her surprise, the idea was promptly listed on the front page. The first comment from a ‘Red Lotus’ guild leader read that he thought it was a stupid idea that wouldn’t have helped with the kaiju. She rolled her eyes. Not every leader had a basic understanding of city politics. The guilds needed to offer a concession of sorts to let Hunnigan save face and declare victory. Most of the votes were positive, however. Other minor concessions were added to the project by moderators.

“Hmmm.”

She checked several other proposals. Some of them called for a guild-controlled market for resources to prevent the city from buying at the price it wanted to fix in the future. It felt like something complicated and expensive, if Nestra had to be honest. She used the opportunity to ask a question in a special question window.

“My guild is overbooked with mandatory portal clears. What should I do?”

The answer was almost instantaneous. It was either a high gleam typing at full speed or an AI vomiting a pre-recorded message.

“The syndicate’s advisory board recommends immediate refusal of mandatory raids citing the guild’s roster status and the guidelines on raider exhaustion.”

Ah, so she should use the safety angle when opposing the power grab. There were actual laws to prevent guilds from pushing exhausted raiders to their limits. Preventing stupid deaths of valuable personnel was always a good thing. Nestra took out her visor, wrote the message, and then tried to send it, then realized she had no network.

“Eh?”

“The room’s cut off to prevent people from recording us,” a neighbor said.

She was an anglo woman with auburn hair and dark eyes, probably a basalt or obsidian affinity. Black jewelry adorned her simple dress.

“What prevents me from recording the stuff and then uploading it?” Nestra grumbled.

The woman smiled.

“You were scanned for hidden cameras at the door. If you start recording with your visor now, you’ll probably be ‘asked’ to leave. The old ones really enjoy their intimacy.”

Nestra shrugged. She could send the mail when she was out. It wasn’t urgent.

“I’m Nestra Palladian,” Nestra said, extending her hand.

The woman’s grip was cold and dry with the calluses of a frontliner.

“Adrienne Hancock, East Seventeen Guild. Freshly arrived from the states.”

“Oh. Half of my family used to be from there.”

“I see. It must not be recent. You sound like a local.”

Nestra’s thoughts went to Daniels but surely not every American immigrant was after her ass. She shouldn’t be paranoid.

“We are. That’s my dad over there. I’m personally a minor league player.”

“Just like me then.”

They had a short conversation. Adrienne was very new, and eager to meet people. Nestra had a few suggestions on who to get in touch with. Waiters and waitresses walked among the alleys, offering refreshments and snacks while the conversations around them rose to a deafening level. Some gleams didn’t hesitate to fly or teleport to other groups so flashes of mana were not unusual, especially if the high gleams just went all out on their stupid speed.

It was weird seeing those elites of the elites shaping the future of the city that guarded the gate. Even weirder was to be counted among them. So Nestra was still a small fry and she probably wouldn’t get to stay, but this really illustrated how humans could work together when they were pissed off enough. Inspiring in a sad kind of way.

Shaking her head, Nestra returned her attention to the top list of suggestions. She upvoted those she liked and read the comments on the more controversial ones. The most discussed post suggested to stop raiding entirely, and only intervene to stop breaches. Nestra thought it was a shit idea from the start since breaches were significantly harder to handle than the worlds that generated them. That tended to happen when the entire population of a world was dumped on someone at once. Several comments led to another proposal she thought much better. She voted in favor as well.

Backed by Touhei, the proposal had the merit of being both safe and devastating. The raiders would raid as usual to handle portals, but they would harvest nothing. Not even the altar reward. Not only would the city’s tax income instantly plummet, but most industries would be paralyzed as well and this without the risks of having people getting hurt. That would require some sacrifice from raiders but Nestra was confident many would sacrifice a month of wages for a lifetime of better treatment. She knew she would. After a long time, the proposal rose to the top of the list.

At 10 AM sharp, Sun had everyone vote on each of the top resolutions. The one she’d liked was picked by the overwhelming majority, as well as another one listing legal recourses she wasn’t very familiar with. To her pleasant surprise, the list of concessions and changes that she’d started was selected as well, a sign the raiders were not fan of having breaches in their malls and coffee shops either.

The discussions were short. Only guild leaders with significant backing could comment on proposals, and then only for a short amount of time. This removed all minor guilds from the equation, but Nestra wasn’t too sad because most of the proposals made sense. For example, portals harvested for medical supplies or otherwise really essential stuff were exempt. Exceptional guardian rewards could be kept as well. The quick and almost unanimous votes were a shock to Nestra.

How could anyone in Threshold be so united? Was it because most people came here having already decided what they wanted to do? And then, another thought crept in: raiders had more in common with each other than with any baseline, aug, or civilian gleam. They were, in the political sense of the term, a class: aware of their own nature and interests. But they were still human. That made Nestra frown, then she wrote a question. To her surprise, she was asked to wait.

“Another topic,” Sun said from the low ground. “What will happen to those who do not comply with our resolution?”

A half smile moved his face, perhaps the first expression he had shown since the beginning of the event. Everything else had been done mechanically, like they were discussing a new infrastructure project or something equally dry.

“I can only assume this question was not asked with ulterior motives.”

Nestra almost gasped. It sounded like a joke? From the founder of pillar?

“The short answer is that you do not need to concern yourselves with compliance as this will be handled by the Big Four. The long answer is that we will take turns to outbid them on all of their portals until they either close shop or we can extract concessions.”

By Nestra’s side, Adrienne nodded.

“The old Threshold Throttle.”

Nestra gasped.

“Wait, it’s a famous trick?”

Now it was Adrienne’s turn to show surprise.

“It’s so famous it’s shown in popular gleam dramas. Especially the Threshold-made ones. You know? Those that are exported to every City Fortress with a stable internet connection?”

“I don’t watch vids much,” Nestra confessed.

That was another shocker she’d forgotten about. Foreigners might see Threshold from yet another lens she’d never experienced. Maybe she should talk to Camille about it. They were a newcomer as well.

After that, the meeting devolved into discussions, with most measures being finalized barring a few adjustments made by later committees. Nestra was surprised the ‘independent marketplace’ offer was accepted, but she didn’t know enough about gleam economy to comment anyway. As far as she understood, the city marketplace was very fast and secure, not to mention pretty cheap. She got the feeling it was one of those eddies in the political current coming to the surface, an idea that had been floated around but never found purchase until some daft cunt had decided to piss in the pot. The last round of votes confirmed everything, the first and immediate measure being the ‘raiders’ strike’, effective immediately.

It would take some time for most of the measures to take effect. Most companies had a week of inventory, and the city undoubtedly held stockpiles of mana stones to keep all the mana-dependent machines active in case something happened, but in two weeks Threshold would feel the strain. Four weeks and the economy would collapse. All of this decided by less than two thousand people in expensive suits. Two thousand multiverse rising predators defining the future of their species one resolution at a time.

Versus that guy.

Now it was a matter of seeing who blinked first.

***

Nestra left the portal world with her pockets empty for the first time ever. Ice mana froze the sludge on her boots. With two light stomps, the shard fell off, revealing the gray metal underneath.

Most of the time, the portals she raided were too insignificant to warrant the presence of a civil servant, but this one was sometimes harvested for strains of cave fungus used by chemical companies. The man in a suit looked up from his improvised workstation by the sewer entrance. As was tradition, a pile of empty coffee cups rested by his open laptop. He blinked when he spotted her.

“You… cleared it. Did you bring any samples?”

“No.”

“I see.”

His eyes flashed, the aug warning other people that he was receiving a message. Nestra waited. It was late and she wanted a shower, but at least the helmet had protected her from the worst of the smell. Fucking sewers. Every damn time.

“Ah, and it appears you just filed for… zero profit?”

“That is correct.”

The tired aug did something again. The sigh that left his chest deflated his posture and his mood.

“I see you’ve filed to refuse the other two assignments?”

“By my authority as the guild leader and only permanent member of the guild, yes. We don’t have the available personnel.”

“I see you have… five other people?”

Nestra didn’t have to reply but she did it anyway.

“Three students taking exams, one convict deployed on an assignment, one doctor on call. Those other two portals are the city’s problem.”

Nestra was willing to take shit assignments for the people but that didn’t mean letting Hunnigan walk all over her.

“I see… I am, ah, supposed to inform you that…”

Another sigh. Clearly the coffees did nothing for a lack of belief in one’s own institution.

“That the city might check your records for signs of irregularity.”

The two exchanged a glance. That poor aug looked like a beaten dog waiting for the shoe to fall. It was so depressing she didn’t even find the heart to be angry.

“They’re gonna be busy, mate,” Nestra told him.

The aug’s laptop beeped.

“I gathered as much.”