You make your way towards Babbage outside of Oasis as Jonesy had directed. In essence, you follow the thin river leading into the large lake from the northwest, but on the northern bank. You do your best to stick close to the plateau's cliffside as you move towards your destination.
The river itself seems to branch outward as it spreads out between the plateaus. Or perhaps much more accurately, they come and meet into one before emptying out into the lake behind you. Perhaps the confluence where they all meet was once grand in its day, but now they all join into little more than a whelp of a river.
Thankfully the water it provides is still enough to keep Oasis alive.
You turn northwards as the plateau itself curves in that direction, at which point you see the makeshift encampment along the cliffside ahead of you. Babbage's trailer is butted up right against the cliff, with all manner of piles of scrap around it. It seems to you like any old junkyard you've ever seen in your life.
The whole encampment is ringed by large rubber tires stacked up on each other roughly five high, but with a gated entryway facing your direction. Every tire pillar appears to be filled with rocks and dirt, and are topped with scrawny shrubs - though at least they're flowering.
The dirt path leading straight to it - the one you're walking on now - is marked with all kinds of tire and hoof tracks. Which perhaps shows that plenty of traders and merchants visit him regularly.
Just like the homes and shops at Oasis, this place is also covered by a large canvas sheet on long poles. This time, you note that the very top of the poles have electronics wrapped around them. Looks like a variety of different solar panels lashed together, acting as a kind of pole-topper.
The makeshift metal gate in front you slides open easily as its wheels travel down rails laid down on the ground, but it still makes a kind of squeaking noise at some part of its mechanism. You can't tell exactly from where, though, and that strikes you as a little bit odd. Almost like the squeak itself is purposeful.
And now that you're inside, you can see that the various piles of scrap aren't just randomly made or haphazard in their construction. All of them are filled with the same or similar parts, and they're sorted in large bins relatively neatly. Most of them are simply filed to the brim and are bulging up and out of their containers.
One of the larger piles is an assortment of random steel scrap - bent ladders and warped shelves and old pans and stripped car doors and rusted poles are among the residents in there. It's such a massive variety of scrap metal that you imagine yourself making a full suit of metal armor with them. Or maybe even an entire shelter.
Another nearby pile isn't so much a pile. Rather, it's all made with neatly stacked buckets filled with all kinds of cut wiring. Most of the wires are made of thick strands of copper, with a handful of buckets filled with oddly shaped chunks of some silvery metal. You presume it's actually silver, considering those two metals are the most electrically conductive.
A pile of circuit boards catches your attention as well. It seems like a great variety of boards, from big to small and complex to simple. You even recognize a few PC motherboards in the pile, though they've long since been stripped of chipsets and modules. Most of the other boards in the pile are the same - stripped clean of anything that could be attached to them, besides whatever's actually soldered into them anyway.
You come up to the trailer to find a rather robust work area situated right in front of it. There's a massive workbench up front with bins of various projects off to each side. There's a shelf filled with tools and small parts behind the workbench, butted up against the trailer itself.
On top of the workbench appears to be a half dozen or so objects - old electronics devices and refrigerator compressors and what looks to be a kind of engine, though it's fist-sized. All of them don't really look as though they're part of a cohesive whole, and are rather different devices that are being worked on at the same time.
Oddly enough, Babbage himself isn't out here - you sense his psyche inside the trailer itself. Oddly though it feels a bit scattered. Although the core of his thoughts are coming from within the trailer, there are traces of him all around the yard itself.
Hello Traveler, he greets you Telepathically. You have full permission to perform equitable transactions within this collective space.
"Uh, thanks," you reply. "Glad to be here."
Do you not wish to communicate via Telepathy?
"Just trying to give my mind a bit of a break right now, no offense or anything."
No offense taken. It is merely our preferred method of communication.
"Our? Is it more than just you here?"
You're piqued by Babbage's use of a multiple to identify himself. You have only sensed his consciousness and no-one else's thus far. Certainly nothing obvious like the Chimera, at least in contrast.
Apologies. Singularities are still a concept we are re-adjusting to, he replies. But yes, we are the only ones here.
"I think I get it," you say. You have your own struggles with your own inner voices at times - it's likely that Babbage is going through something similar. Perhaps all people with psionic powers have their own unique insanities they're going through.
"In any case, I'm just here to see if you want a couple things from me," you continue after a second. "A solar charger and a portable radio. They can hook into each other, and they're in pretty good shape. As far as I can tell, anyway."
Please place them on the workbench for appraisal.
You pull the two devices from your hiking pack and place them on the workbench as Babbage has requested. There's a nice empty spot with just enough space for the both of them, so you set them down right next to each other.
Though you fully expect him to come out of his trailer, you instead sense a great amount of Telekinetic energy rise up in the air around you. Then, multiple tools rise up from the shelves behind the workbench and hover over to the two devices.
All of them work in conjunction to cooperatively dismantle and disassemble the both of them with relative ease. You're amazed by how well Babbage is controlling all of those things at the same time, with such precision and grace and expert timing.
Not only that, but he's also capturing the various parts Telekinetically, and causing them to hover in the air as he works. It makes it look as though the devices are exploding in absolute slow motion, one part at a time.
You find the process both hypnotic and beautiful, and a part of you wishes to emulate it as best you can. In fact, you resolve to try practicing it when you return to rest for the day.
Once all of the parts have been individually separated from the whole, they spin in the air for a moment almost as though Babbage is observing them in greater detail. Then after a few seconds, he reverses his work and the two devices are put back together piece by piece.
It's almost as though it is happening in reverse - that same precision that he had used to separate them is exactly the same as when putting them back together. It's so scarily accurate that you wonder just how powerful his Telekinesis is.
Certainly more powerful than yours, that's for sure.
After our inspection, we can easily mark these two devices to be in very good condition, Babbage Telepathically tells you once everything is back in place. We can offer you anything that you may need that is within the courtyard in exchange for these two devices.
"I, well, honestly, I don't need much of anything from out there," you reply. "I mean, a lot of it looks really useful one way or another, but not just while traveling."
Understandable, Babbage says. In which case, we can instead offer data in exchange. We are both psions curious about our future and our potential, yes? Perhaps we can enlighten you further, no?
"Why not just exchange notes? I mean, it would seem like we'd both be better off if we did that. Exchanged psionic experiences and all that.."
We certainly can, however the debt for these devices would remain unsettled.
"Alright then, how about you teach me two things and I teach you one?"
This is acceptable. Is there something specific that you wish to know about?
"Truthfully, I do. I've got this energy weaving that I picked up recently, but don't know exactly what it does, or how to use it. Could you maybe help me make sense of it?"
We shall do our best to impart our knowledge. Please demonstrate this psionic power if you are able.
You nod, then do your best to weave the energies as you remember them. You recall back to your fight with the Ifrit and shape a certain amount of Control energy in the air around you. Although you're certain that you're mimicking its actions, you don't seem to be actually doing anything else.
As you do this, you sense a great amount of Scan energy emanating from Babbage. It appears that he is studying this power with great intent. Not only that, but his Scan seems much more rigid and controlled than yours.
It dawns on you that he isn't performing one massive Scan, but rather a multitude of small Scans layered into each other. And in doing so he is observing the nature of the power from multiple levels at the same time.
The method is extremely clever, and you decide to try to practice a similar technique in the future.
You wonder just how much more knowledgeable Babbage is from you, and if two lessons will be enough to sate your curiosity. You find the wonders of these psionic powers to be bottomless, and your curiosity for how far you can go grows steadily as the days go by.
The underlying architecture of this weaving is familiar, Babbage proclaims after a few moments. However the outer framework is far from structured. It is rather chaotic, almost organic. Where did you acquire such knowledge?
"Ah I sensed an Ifrit do this," you reply. "It wove it while it was attempting to burn me alive."
This computes. Those Ifrit are chaotic minds and their work can be difficult to parse. Please allow us a few moments to deconstruct its energies.
You nod a couple of times, then realize that Babbage is using terminology that you're not entirely familiar with.
"Architecture?" you ask. "Framework? Deconstruction? What?"
Apologies, he replies. These are terms that the psionic community has adopted as a whole. We use them to further analyze and break down our own powers, mostly for our greater understanding.
"Ah, I see. So you chat with a bunch of other psions, then. Like, the ones in Oasis?"
No. We psions are all linked subconsciously through Telepathic channels that encompass our existence. Ideas and conventions echo all throughout these channels, feeding us with information gathered from the whole.
Imagine the terms Telepathy or Telekinesis, Babbage continues, or any of the combination powers that exist. Chakra. Fortify. Orchestra. It is similar for the rankings, from D to S, or Novice to Scion. These are all terms that we have all subconsciously determined and shared through Telepathic channels enshrouding the planet.
You're stunned at this revelation, and it takes you a few long moments to fully process what Babbage is saying. But what you eventually make out is that all you psions have a kind of hidden Internet connecting all of you, and you're all subconsciously sharing information with each other, somehow.
"Seriously?" you sigh. "I really thought I came up with all those names. Thought I was being super fuckin' clever, too."
Perhaps you did create some of the terminology, perhaps you inherited others. It is all the same in the end. We all use them uniformly. How else could we possibly grade each other with better certainty?
You ruminate deeply on Babbage's words, slowly coming to accept the reality of psionic knowledge. It certainly makes a great deal of sense - it's your collective knowledge that's forming the hierarchies and structures of the powers.
As someone who is still learning the very basics for some of the powers, how could you possibly claim to know the existence of something greater than what you already know? The very idea of it had to have come from somewhere else, first.
Considering how much you are ruminating on this knowledge, it is clear that you have technically learned your first lesson, Babbage says after a few moments. However, we will consider that one as complementary.
Now, let us focus on the power you wish to know about - it is called Merge. Many psions use the technique to create or destroy various objects in reality. Your Ifrit, for example, utilized this power to create methane gas by Merging hydrogen and oxygen with the right amounts. We hypothesize it is how they create and manage and heighten their flames, thus a key factor in how they maintain their dominance over their lands.
"Wait," you stammer out. "You're saying that the Ifrit was making flammable gas out of thin air? That's wild."
Yes. And now, so do you.
Your eyes widen with anticipation the moment Babbage mentions the word. It lights up in your mind, promising incredible amounts of utility. New powers are always nice.
"Merge?" you gasp out. "You mean, like combining things together? Isn't that just Telekinesis?"
It is perhaps something similar to Telekinesis, Babbage replies. However instead of controlling a particular group of objects, it instead manipulates the foundational properties of said object.
"I… I don't get it."
We will demonstrate.
You sense Babbage's powerful Telekinetic energies reach out into the yard and grab one of the many scrap metal parts out there. He brings it over to the workbench, and allows it to hover in place above it. Afterwards, you sense him slowly weave his energies into a Merge, allowing you to study it in detail.
Then, he flips and reverses the energies around before diving into the scrap part itself. As his energies wash over the object, you watch as it comes apart in sand-like particles with absolute ease. The whole thing literally falls apart into pieces effortlessly section by section.
We are first utilizing the antithesis power to Merge, which is appropriately named Disintegration, begins Babbage. Doing so allows us to separate the numerous elements utilized in this structure and break them down into their fundamental elements. Iron and carbon and manganese and silicon… in addition to whatever other impurities may exist within the structure.
Babbage further reduces the scrap metal part down to various powdery substances of different colors and sizes, even going so far as to sort them into their individual piles as he goes. The largest of the piles appears to be a dull gray metal, while the second pile appears to be ink black. Oddly, the second pile is far smaller than the first.
There are smaller piles still, each one much smaller than the previous one. Some are so diminutive that you just barely spot their tiny grains on the workbench's surface. All piles are slightly different in color, mostly varying between white, silver, and gray. You can only presume these are all of the elements that make up the scrap part, but in powder form.
Now we will utilize Merge to manufacture a new object based on these separated fundamental elements, Babbage continues his lesson after giving you a moment to observe it thus far.
He uses a light amount of Telekinesis to 'push' the piles of powder back together, then mixes them up and kneads them like some kind of metallic dough.
Then you sense the energies of Merge form again, as slowly as the first time - plenty enough to give you a great look at how it all comes together. But this time Babbage doesn't flip and invert it before he engulfs the piles with the weaving.
You watch with awe as he shapes and forms it with his Telekinesis, even as the powdery elements are mixed and fused together with Merge. The individual powdery grains join and solidify with each other moment after moment, slowly forming into a cohesive whole over time. It only takes roughly half a minute before Babbage is done, at which point he presents the newly-minted object before you - a solid steel ingot.
A part of you can't help but be utterly amazed at what you've seen. The rest of you shake off your amazement, allowing you to pick up the ingot. As you look at it, you can't help but imagine the things you could do with a power like that. You turn it over in your hands to inspect it, to weigh it, to study it as though you want to know more about steel. But in the end all you can think about are all of the possibilities you could accomplish with Merge.
So you immediately spin up a bit of your energy and weave it into Disintegration. And just like Babbage, you turn those energies towards the ingot with the intent of undoing it, and perhaps returning it to a powder-like state.
But you find that you can't, or rather it's difficult to fully comprehend. Like with air, you're contending with millions of little particles, each one devoid of psionic energy. You end up attempting to widen the gaps between them, but find that it's difficult at best.
Almost like you're attempting to push down a wall with just the strength of your arms - it simply isn't going to happen no matter how much you feel it budge.
You strain yourself as you pour energies into the Disintegration, causing you to physically grit your teeth and tense your muscles. There's a loud CRAK as you snap the ingot into three solid parts, each one exactly the same size as each other, and with every break completely clean.
The moment it does, you lose your grip on your weaving, which causes it to dissipate into nothingness. Not that you're too worried about it - you find yourself somewhat spent and practically panting and heaving from the effort.
And all you've got to show for it is one massive failure.
You open your mouth to ask what happened, but as though anticipating your question, Babbage answers Telepathically, One cannot force a Disintegration or a Merge. It is unlike Telekinesis, which is a simpler, more brute method of object manipulation. Merge and Disintegration are both best applied with varying degrees of finesse and sophistication. Doing so will permit you greater control of these fundamental elements.
We recommend you make your next attempt a Merge - reattaching these three solid parts together will be much easier than if they were powder.
You nod in understanding as you prep your mind to try again. You do as Babbage has done, and use your Telekinesis to slide the three ingot pieces into their positions, then engulf them with a weaving of Merge energies.
This time you take heed of Babbage's instructions and do your best to simply allow your power to work. And you find that it is indeed far easier to control - the lightest touch of your energies allows the metal to bind back to its split portions with ease. You can feel its molecular structure quite literally shift and lock and fuse under your influence.
It only takes you a few seconds to fuse the ingot back together, to the point where it looks like one solid block once again. You pick it up and feel its surface with your fingers - you can't even tell where it had split prior. It's smooth as hell.
Well done. We recommend you attempt one more merge, simply to ensure you have learned the technique.
You nod, but instead of attempting to do anything with the ingot or any other scrap in the yard, you turn your Merge to the air. With your Scan and your Telekinesis, you do your best to find and cluster together hundreds of hydrogen and oxygen atoms. You place them in a small atmospheric bubble, keeping them separate from every other particle as best you can.
Then, you weave your energies into a Merge once again and wash over the two clusters you've got a hold of. Doing so allows them to form into tiny droplets of water, though you find it takes you a great deal of energy to do.
The minute Scan by itself is perhaps the most energy-intense power you're utilizing right now, followed by your Telekinesis, then your Merge. Simply, it takes you a great deal of effort just to isolate what you can. More than that, the pain in your head intensifies significantly as you fine-tune your energies and weavings.
Thankfully the Merge itself is relatively easy - isolating and condensing them allows them to form into mist by themselves. Which means any energy you send into it speeds up the process a great deal.
When you're done, you end up with a literal droplet of water. When you let go of it, it falls down and hits the steel ingot below.
Most impressive, Babbage says after a moment.
"Ah I just made a drop of water," you say somewhat out of breath. "But maybe with a bit of practice I can get a whole bottle's worth at some point."
What is impressive isn't that you utilized Merge effectively. It is that you have learned it quickly. It took us 295 days of constant practice for us to be able to consistently weave Disintegration and Merge. Nearly 13 of those days were spent pooling together enough molecules to form dihydrogen monoxide, as you have.
To have such a command over the Disciplines in such a short amount of time is quite the feat… perhaps we must ruminate on this.
"I dunno. It's just kinda what I need to do. I gotta figure things out and learn as much as I can because it's the only way I can survive out there. I mean, I'd be dead so many times over if I didn't have my powers."
So it is your travels that inspire this sense of urgency. Now we understand. This is perhaps a lesson we should learn as well.
"Well hey, consider this one a freebie."
You sense Babbage grin in amusement psionically.
Since this is your nature, and you are incredibly potent, perhaps there is something you can help us with, he says.
"What is it? Need help around the yard?"
You glance around at the various piles around you, though you don't see much that you could do here in the first place. Any manual labor you do is going to be far outclassed by Babbage's Telekinesis.
What we would require of you is much more delicate work… and dangerous. You see, we are in need of certain parts and require some help gathering them. If you were to assist us, we can promise to provide you with an infinite amount of wisdom. As much as you would want.
Your mouth gapes at Babbage's declaration. He's offering to teach you practically for free, possibly forever - if you pick up some stuff for him. You consider this a literal goldmine, one that you can't really pass up.
"That's a serious reward," you reply after a moment. "What you want must mean the world to you."
More than you realize. You see, we too wish to travel as you do, to observe and study the world, and perhaps meet other psions like ourselves. However we are completely and utterly immobile and incapable of locomotion.
"So you basically want me to find you a set of legs somewhere."
That is a crude approximation, but yes. We need legs. We have knowledge of a hidden military base in this area. One that has been constructed inside of this area, among the plateau formations. We have reason to believe that this base is also a research facility developing a combat exoskeleton along with its custom power supply. We could potentially consolidate those two systems with our own in order to achieve full mobility.
"Wait, how do you even know about this?"
Take a look around you. This yard has been gathered from the parts of a military convoy whose travels ended very close to this spot, though said convey has long since been dismantled and reformed. Some of the vehicles in the convoy collided with the cliffside where I now rest.
You see, they were either headed to or coming from said base at the moment the apocalypse happened. From my readings through Astral Memory, most died instantaneously. Anyone who lived, fled. They left their equipment here to rot in the sun.
And also be read and disseminated. By us.
"Alright, well sounds easy enough. Since it's around here, it shouldn't take too long to find what you need. Where is this place anyway?"
Unfortunately, we do not know exactly where the base is located. None of the information I could gather contains such details. All we can tell you is that we can sense a great amount of psionic energy coming from a certain part of the entire plateau formation - and it could possibly be where the base is. But we cannot be certain.
"I get why you say it's dangerous then. If I go, I might die to some crazy psionic thing. And I might not even find what it is you're looking for. Can you at least tell me what I'm up against? At least that way I can prep myself a bit before I go."
We wish we could impart that wisdom on you, however we are limited. All we sense from the entities are psionic noise - akin to static. It is unknowable the danger they possess. However we sense that someone like you has great potential to overcome them.
"Great... Well, no sense in delaying things I guess. Show me the way."
~~~
Hope you're enjoying the story! Please check out my other work - linktr.ee/ceritusorbis
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