Part Five

	He had seen places of fun and training, and many gymnasia and firing ranges for bows and spells.  He had seen a few zoos, many housing creatures totally alien to him.  He had seen a few music halls and at least ten of those strange buildings called cafeterias, and of course, he had seen the ubiquitous pools that led to the Arbor of Innocence.  They would be how people who weren’t able to use a Cubic Gate came and went.

	There was so much more, and so much diversity, and it had all been quite too much for Linus.  Still, he had gritted his teeth and followed the orientation guide, and been shown his new home for the foreseeable future.  Then, he had received a magic key to his new apartment, and a porter had brought his luggage and his armor to the rooms of his suite, and he had passed out cold, to wake and do it again the next day.

	That had been an improvement.  He had been having trouble sleeping for years.  That, among a litany of other problems.  He had been having trouble sleeping, eating, keeping to a schedule, becoming erect, and recalling times when he wasn’t fighting for his life.  He had fallen asleep in minutes after arriving here.  He hadn’t even realized it until he had shaved the next day and realized he had fallen asleep with his tunic on.

	Linus watched as people below danced to music he could just barely make out.  A patio on the lowest floor of the apartment building to which he had been assigned had a small band on it, and they were piping and drumming to the delight of a few other patients.  Every single patient in the Ark had the same dress code: a uniform, featureless tunic or chest wrap, shin-length pantaloons of the same grey material, and slippers.  Under them, skin-tight smallclothes of softer material the same color, and short socks.  The staff permitted some decoration, but nobody bought their own clothing to wear.  Exactly why the administrators had seen fit to implement that, Linus didn’t know or care.  It was comfortable, at least.

	Linus looked up and saw a winged, bird-like being, near his own height, soar from the branches of the tree down to a balcony some few hundred meters to his left.  It had a basket in its hands, and Linus shook himself away from the spectacular Ark interior to remember his hunger.  He pulled his slippers on and walked to the door, grabbing his key on the way.  It was time to get out and get the blood moving.


	The strange light from above soaked into Linus’s night-black skin as he walked slowly down the road between his apartment building and the nearest eatery.  The temperature was comfortable, at least, like a breezy summer’s day in his hometown.  The roads had a few people here or there, but clearly most were elsewhere, on the beaches or in their apartments.  In his mind, Linus couldn’t stop overlaying his tactical sense on every turn and every object he saw, and it was annoying him.  He was glad he was along, so he wouldn’t be burdening any other people with his instinctive tactical sense

	Not that it made him unique.  More than a few of the other people he saw had marks of war like his.  Some were men and women, scarred or tattooed in ways that instantly made sense to his warrior’s mind.  Others he saw deliberately sit with their backs to a wall and all the doors of the places they were sitting in sight.  It was concurrently saddening and reassuring to him.


	Linus walked into the nearest cafeteria – the idea still amazed him – and looked around awkwardly.  He had no idea where to go or how to order food.  What had the orientation guide told him?  Just show the key, right?

	“New guy.”

	Linus turned and saw a human standing there, in the same clothes as him, and nodding with a knowing smile on his scarred face.  “Yep.  New guy.”

	Linus nodded ruefully.  “Sorry.  What do I do?”

	“Over here,” the man said.  “Grab a tray.”

	Linus followed the other man to a pile of identical yellow wooden pieces with carry-handles and picked one up.  “Now, just go from table to table and pick what you like,” the man said.  “Name’s Horace, by the way.  Oerth.”

	“Linus.  Toril,” Linus said.  “Thank you.”

	“Don’t mention it.”  Horace wandered the counters at the back of the room, picking and selecting items and moving them to his tray.  Linus looked around a moment longer, still taking it all in.  The decoration of the room was different from everything else he had seen.  Most of the buildings here were neutral grey, but this was a riot of colors, and the entire interior was decorated with honeycombed slats of stone with bright green moss growing on them.  Scents of food and nature permeated the air.  The noise was intense, from a hundred people eating and talking, and the noise of the open kitchen at the back of the room.  Skylights let in abundant light, save for an isolated but equally-decorated area in the back where the light barely reached.  Linus saw dozens of people of races that shunned the light of day sitting there, eating with equal vigor and cheer.

	Slowly, Linus selected a few foods he recognized from the variety on the tables, some of which had steam rising between the dishes to keep it all warm.  Without really thinking about it, he wound up where Horace had sat, and the other man chuckled.

	“Need a brunch buddy, huh?”

	“Uh…”

	“I don’t mind.  Like the company,” Horace said.  He rubbed his hands on a towel and stuck one out.  “Horace Laustfrim.”

	“Linus Vorth.”  Linus took the hand and shook it.  The calluses on the skin told him Horace spent a lot of time holding reins.

	“You a soldier too?”

	“Paladin,” Linus said.  He picked up a fork and dove in on the heaping pile of baked fish he had put on his tray.  “This is my second full day of treatment.”

	“Going on fiftieth,” Horace said.  “Quite a place.”

	“Unimaginable,” Linus said.  “I thought the city back home was an architectural miracle, but this…”

	“Yep.”  Horace was silent for a few minutes, gnawing contentedly on some bread and cheese, before speaking.  “Come here with anybody?”

	“Just my mount.”  Linus looked down.  “I was in no shape to be with people when they found me.”

	“Found you?”  Horace frowned.  “You committed?”

	“Self-imposed,” Linus confessed.  “I was going mad.”

	“Shit, man, we all were,” Horace said.  “Look around.”

	Linus did so, and saw a hundred people from ten species at the tables.  “Every single one of us was mad, Linus, all of us,” Horace said.  The sun-darkened lines on the man’s skin shifted as he grinned.  “You name it.  The Ark isn’t a place intact people go.”

	“Fair enough,” Linus said awkwardly.  “I’m sorry.”

	Horace waved him off.  “Not a problem.  No place to get better than the Ark.”

	“How old is it?”

	“Oh, I don’t know,” Horace said.  He sipped his beverage – some frothy alcoholic brew – and eyed Linus over the brim.  “They let you keep your mount?”

	“Well, I summon him,” Linus said.  “Find Greater Steed, you know.”

	“Hmmph.  I know they let a few actual animals here, there’s a riding field under construction behind one of the gyms,” Horace said.  “Thinkin’ I might head over there and give it a try.  You used any of the training grounds?”

	“No.”  Linus picked at his fish and vegetables and shook his head slowly.  “I’m still getting my bearings.”

	“Sure.”

	The two men sat in silence and ate for a while longer.  The food was, unsurprisingly, delicious.  Linus saw a whole gang of halflings and an elf or two in the kitchens, roasting and braising and chopping away at heaps of meat and plants, and thought to ask.  “So… where do they get the food, anyway?”

	“I dunno.  I know there’s gardens here somewhere, where people can work off their stress or whatever,” Horace mused.  “The meat, I think they import.  Ain’t magical.”

	“Huh.”  Linus, finding himself in the presence of a kindred spirit for the first time in a decade, dared to ask.  “So… your hands tell me cavalier,” he said.  “You a lance-and-shield man?”

	Horace nodded.  “Yes.  Mercenary, actually.  Only ever worked for the Church in practice.  Loved it.”

	“Ah.  I was an adventurer.”  Linus tapped his chest.  “I liked it for a while.  Then, it was just work.”

	“Don’t let them promote you, and all that?” Horace asked.

	“No.  I just couldn’t take it.”  Linus’s throat locked up as the memories of the night that had driven him over the edge suddenly surfaced.  He became aware that Horace was staring when the other man leaned forward slightly.  Linus forced himself to swallow and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the coughs.  When the burning sensation faded, he continued as if nothing had happened.  “So, I came here after a former comrade basically ordered me to.  Seems pretty great so far.

	Horace, no fool but also no doctor, simply nodded.  “Got it.”


	The two men sat in companionable silence for a bit longer before Horace rose with an empty tray.  “Just leave the empties on that table,” he said, pointing at the large wooden structure by the door.  “They’ll come get it.”

	“Thank you,” Linus said.

	Horace pulled a little piece of metal from the card attached to his key.  “And if you want to talk, or work out and want a partner, just look up my room code,” he said.  Linus looked, and the tiny tab did indeed have a six-digit code on it.

	Linus smiled, touched.  “Thanks, Horace.”

	“See you around,” Horace said, and walked off.