Five rounds later I sat down to rest just above Yorka, who was sprawled out on the staircase. She was a few blocks ahead of me. We watched in silence as the guy in the baseball cap worked diligently. He was a machine of a man, a methodical robot. Everything he did was aimed at maximizing his efficiency, and he didn’t make a single mistake. By my count, he had already moved ten blocks, which was twice as many as I had. Even though he was blind, he worked faster than we did, and still remembered to scan his surroundings, occasionally freezing and turning his lowered head this way or that. He knew where Yorka and I were at any given moment. He had a computer for a head, constantly processing a huge amount of information.
I leaned toward Yorka and said quietly:
“We need this guy.”
“Huh?” She stared at me with genuine surprise. “Are you kidding me? Come on, goblin! I mean, yeah, we need more party members — I’ve been wanting to suggest that. But…”
“Shh.”
“Can’t we recruit someone healthy for a change? You have one arm. So do I. Now you want this blind dude. Who’s next? Someone with no legs? Or maybe a worm?”
“You know what, that’s a good idea! An undead party!”
“Elb!”
“Just breathe.”
“Yeah, I get it,” She mumbled even more quietly. “I feel bad for him, too. So I think we should take him on. But promise me our next recruit will be in mint condition!”
“You don’t get it, goblin,” I laughed. “Do you really think I’m inviting him to join us out of pity?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not. Just look at him. He can’t see, but he works better than us. He didn’t sink to the bottom. Right now I’m trying to choose my words carefully, so I can make an offer he won’t just reject without a second thought.”
“Hmm… I didn’t think of that…”
“Let’s get back to work. He’s carrying his twelfth block already. I’ve only done five.”
“Okay,” Yorka sighed, bouncing upright like a spring. “Let’s see if we can keep up with him!”
We tried. We pushed ourselves at the end, but we were still hopelessly behind the blind guy. When he finished, Yorka still had six blocks left, and I had ten. To my relief, he didn’t hurry off, but decided to rest for a while. He sat down next to the steel bulge, tucked his chin into his chest, and went still. I wasn’t sure if he was asleep or just relaxing. Probably relaxing — it would be foolish of him to trust strangers, even with the domes constantly watching overhead. I wouldn’t risk sleeping here, outside the cozy metal sleeping capsules!
We pressed on and finished the job, doing the last block together. I checked the interface and breathed a sigh of relief. The jobs submenu was blank, which made me feel both glad and a little sad.
Balance: 26 sol.
If I could double that, I wouldn’t have to be afraid of losing a limb. It would be enough to get a new one — although I might still die of blood loss or shock while being dragged to the medblock. Dragged by my loyal friends, of course.
The bottom line was this: it was possible to thrive in the Outskirts as long as you were in a party. Working together, extra jobs, camaraderie. I had no doubt that’s how it was meant to be. Goblins were encouraged to form parties, units, and brigades. It was beneficial for the system — a well-motivated group could work many times more efficiently on shorter notice. The carrot and the stick. Nobody cared for the loners here, as far as I could tell. They were destined to exist as orcs, saving sol for a rainy day, occasionally buying clothes or other goodies.
I stood at the top of the staircase, gripping the steel railing, trying to catch my breath and fighting the urge to sit on a step. My legs were shaking, my lower back was aching again, my shoulder and arm were cramping from working them too hard. My arm had suffered the most — the biceps started shaking badly when I tried to flex it.
“Let’s wait a little while,” I said to my partner, assessing the condition of my arm.
Its condition was unacceptable. It was my lone working and fighting limb — it had to be able to do things without failing me. So I sat down and took a sip of water. Yorka sat next to me in obvious relief. We were exhausted. The work wasn’t incredibly hard, though, and we would have been fine if we were well-fed, rested, and healthy.
Anyway, what kind of job was that? Carrying metal cubes to holes in the wall… It made no sense. In fact, it seemed like made-up busy work to keep the goblins occupied and justify their pathetic lives. But it wasn’t.
From the top of the staircase I had a great view of the hall below. After studying it for a while, I noticed traces left by whatever bulky equipment once stood on the floor. It had all been dismantled.
The reason was obvious — it fell into total disrepair and was shut down. This resulted in a gap in the technological process that had to be filled.
Filled how?
