Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-Seven. No choice.

This one fought me and I'm still not completely happy with it.  I think I rewrote the first thousand words half a dozen times.   But great is the enemy of good, or in this case, good is the enemy of ok, so I'm going to send it out into the world so I can move on.  

"I think that cost is a little high," Bob mused.  "People need a gallon of water a day, right? So figure for half again that to be safe, means we only need a million and a half gallons of water.  If I setup the rituals, it would take just about sixty of them running twenty-four hours a day to purify over a million and a half gallons of water.  That's eleven and a half thousand crystals a day.  Unless the repair rituals are activated on every single pillar each day, that's the majority of the ongoing costs."

"How many crystals does Dharavi generate?" Mike asked.  "That's the real question."

"At least a million, with two Dungeons going twenty-four seven and only being delved by level zero people," Jack said confidently.

"Will they spend two percent of that?" Bob asked.

"Only way to find out is to ask," Jack said.

"If they say no, can the citizens afford it?" Bob shook his head.  "They do an eighty-twenty split on crystals here, so we'd be asking the people delving the Dungeons to give up ten percent of the crystals they're allowed to keep."

"Hopefully, the government will be willing to pony up the crystals from their own cut, rather than raise the tax," Jack offered.

"You've never been a government employee," Mike grumbled.  "Trust me, they'd rather raise taxes than cut spending."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You want to do what?" Elania looked at the phone incredulously.

"Build a water purification plant and pipe it across the district," Bob repeated.  "Right now the government is trucking in water because the infrastructure was wrecked, and between spillage, waste and a lack of containers, there are people, including these kids, who don't have clean water to drink.  We've got the idea down and Jack is mapping out the area to determine the where to place the pillars, but even if we build it out on our own dime, we're going to need the local government to keep the rituals fed."

Elania rubbed the bridge of her nose.  "Bob, you can't just go into a country and build your own infrastructure."

"No, I really can," Bob disagreed.  "It's not like they can't just knock it down once they finally get around to fixing the infrastructure on their own.  We're going with ariel pipes for that exact reason.  Well, that and gravity feed down the pillars is easier than pressure feed up from under the ground."

"You haven't actually started yet, have you?" Elania asked.

"No, like I said, Jack is mapping things out, while Mike, Dave, and Amanda are investigating a supplier for the pipe," Bob replied.  "We can probably get started tomorrow.  We still need to see if there is a better way to do this than me actually summoning the pillars."  He sighed.  "It's easy to get hung up on doing everything with magic, but the truth of the matter is that you don't always need that hammer."

Elania frowned.  When she'd first met Robert Whitman, what had struck her most, beyond his good looks and social awkwardness, was his determination.  He'd discovered the world was coming to an end, and he'd decided that he was going to save it.

Over the past three years, she'd seen that determination again and again.

"I can reach out to the Prime Minister," she began.  "I expect he'll need to work with a few ministers at the national level, as well as those local to the city and district.  What were those numbers again?"

"Eleven thousand five hundred and twenty crystals to fuel sixty rituals purifying one million, five hundred and eighty-four thousand gallons of water every twenty-four hours," Bob replied.  "As an added bonus, we're pulling from downstream, so this will help clean up the waste people are dumping in the river."

Elania shook her head.  "You're dead set on this, aren't you?"

"There are kids getting sick because they're forced to drink filthy, polluted water," Bob replied, his voice hard.  "I'd like to have cooperation of the government, but with or without it, I'm getting them clean water."

"I'll make the call," Elania replied.

"Thank you, Madam President," Bob replied, ending the call.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Taylor observed.  She'd remained quiet during the call.

"Kids living in poverty are probably a trigger for him," Elania said.

"That bit where he said he could do whatever he wanted was a little scary," Taylor said.

"I don't know if he understood just how authoritarian he sounded," Elania agreed.  "It was a little bit like hearing the King of Greenwold telling us he was going to fix our problems for us, whether we wanted him to or not."

"Part of me feels like we should be grateful he's only leaning into his tier and level to help people, while another part feels like he shouldn't be using his power to bully anyone," Taylor grumbled.

"Well, all of me thinks that it's probably in our best interest if he disappears again for a couple of years.  Next time when he comes back, we'll have had a chance to get things back on track," Elania shook her head.  "Not that there are any guarantees I'll still be in office."

"Polling says you're going to win in a landslide," Taylor assured her.  "There are four other candidates, and most people can't even name them all."

"We'll know for sure in another couple of months," Elania grumbled.

The phone rang and Taylor picked it up.  She listened for a moment, then handed the handset to Elania.  "The Prime Minister of India is holding for you," she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob answered his phone carefully, not recognizing the number.  "Hello?"

"Mr. Whitman," a man's voice, warm, with an Indian accented came through the phone.  "My name is Rajiv.  I've just spoken to the President of the United States and she informed me that you intend to build a water purification plant, as well as the infrastructure to deliver clean water to the people in the Dharavi district of Mumbai?"

"I do," Bob replied, leaning a back in his chair and tapping his armband, causing the screen he'd been studying to disappear.

"The numbers supplied indicated that it would require eleven and a half thousand crystals each day for this?" Rajiv asked.

"To purify the water, yes," Bob said.  "We're intending to place repair rituals on each of the pillars that will both hold the pipes aloft, as well as dispense the water.  If a pillar is damaged, it will require eight crystals to activate the ritual.  I don't know how many pillars might be damaged, or how often, but that's another cost to consider."

"That is considerably more than the cost of delivering water," Rajiv began, "however it would certainly improve distribution, as well as freeing people from the need to dedicate half or even an entire day to obtaining water for the week.  The American President indicated that you intend to complete this project, going so far as to spend your own crystals to do so?"

"Yes," Bob replied flatly.

"I commend you for your dedication to aid your fellow man," Rajiv continued.  "India will not allow you to shoulder this burden alone.  We will provide whatever crystals you need, and we will fund the operation of the plant."

"Thank you," Bob said uncertainly.

"All that we ask is that you work with the city planning committee and a group of our municipal engineers, to make sure no existing infrastructure is damaged, and to ensure we know how to operate the plant," Rajiv explained.

"That sounds good," Bob said.

"Excellent, I'll ensure they are waiting for you at the capitol building tomorrow morning at seven.  Again, I thank you for identifying this problem, and offering a solution for it as well.  Goodbye, Mr. Whitman."

"Goodbye," Bob replied as the call ended.

He looked up at Mike and Jack, who were waiting expectantly.

"The government is going to pay for us to build out the plant and the distribution, and then pay to keep it running," Bob said.

"That was way easier than I thought it was going to be," Mike muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prime Minister Rajiv Singh let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders.

When he'd been notified that a dozen people, each one at tier eight, had arrived in his country, he'd been deeply concerned.

He was well aware of the tyranny of rank, and he harbored considerable doubts that there was anything that his government could do to prevent these people from doing whatever it was they wanted.

The President of the United States had assured him that these people were no threat.  While he was aware of Robert Whitman and his part in the salvation of Earth, he was still concerned.

The follow up call from the President explaining Mr. Whitman's intentions in his country had been a welcome relief.  He had only been peripherally aware of the issues in Dharavi, as there were other areas of the country with larger concerns.

He would have spent ten times as many crystals if it meant getting those people out of his country peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aleksander Ivanovich Vasiliev pulled his collar up against the morning chill.  It wasn't so much the cold Moscow morning, but the memories of the time spent in his vessel that made his bones ache.

He'd been the owner and captain of his own towboat, saving for his eventual retirement when the word began to spread that the world was ending.  He'd paid it little mind, keeping his attention on his work.  Did not Russia endure?  The Mongols, the Germans, the Tsars, the Communists, enemies without and those within had all attempted to crush her, and failed.

As more information was revealed, it became apparent that while Russia would endure, her people would be changed by the approaching apocalypse.  Aleksander was captivated by the use of magic portals to travel instantly from one point to another.  He could see, in that instant, the end of his livelihood.  Who would ship goods across the sea from port to port, when you could accomplish the same thing in mere moments instead of months?

This 'Dimension magic' was the future, and he knew all too well that those who began soonest, finished first.  So, when the call had come for volunteers he had answered, hiding his delight at the request for dimensionalists.  He'd done his duty, accepting the Affinity Crystal, and fighting beasts inside the Dungeons on an alien world.  When the integration occurred, he'd continued, battling monsters to gather the crystals necessary to keep his countrymen in stasis until they could return.

The King of Greenwold and the leader of the aliens on Earth, the so-called 'Terran Confederacy' had both offered up their Dungeons in exchange for wealth, but even that was enough.  Russia was fortunate in that they had many Dungeons, enough to service her population, but there were other countries, other peoples, who were desperate.

Three weeks ago, he'd reached the maximum level for his tier.  He'd planned to spend his skill point advancing his Eldritch Blast to the next threshold, as he'd reached the maximum for his portal spell.  However, he'd scanned the Dimension Spells out of habit, and had found something new.

Exploratory Interdimensional Portal. This skill allows the user to open a Portal to another, unknown, dimension. The terminus of this Portal will be outside any planetary masses. Functions identically to the portal skill in all other aspects.

The Skill will mirror the user's Portal skill.

This Skill was created by 'Robert Whitman', User identification code 40816G1407N3210ISS3PM1IO.   This user chose to voluntarily share this skill freely.

Aleksander knew who Robert Whitman was.  The man who had given everything to save Humanity, asking for nothing in return.  With his blonde hair, blue eyes, and strong jaw, Aleksander was certain the man had more than a little Russian in him.

He was also well aware of the difficulties the world faced regarding the capacity of its Dungeons.  He was allowed to delve more frequently than others, in no small part because he practiced his portal spell on behalf of the government, mainly delivering people from Moscow to the Dungeons further north and east.  His most frequent delves were in a Dungeon in northern Siberia, a place with cold the likes of which he'd never felt.

That was an opportunity, and Aleksander hadn't hesitated.  He'd taken the spell, and immediately begun his preparations.

He understood the basic concepts of space.  It was like water, only it pulled instead of pushed.  So, he'd built a submersible.  It wasn't fancy, a dodecahedron, which boasted a telescope mounted to each side, feeding the images into a computer mounted within.  He'd tested its sea worthiness by weighing it down and lowering it into the ocean.  He'd left it at five hundred feet beneath the waves for three days before pulling it up.  Inspection revealed not a single leak.

His next test was more dangerous.  He'd worn his wetsuit and scuba gear as he portaled the submersible into space.  It had actually taken quite a few portals, but he'd finally made it.  He sat, strapped into his chair in the tiny cabin, following the temperature dr while the air pressure gauge remained constant.

Emboldened by his success, he'd begun to portal to other universes.  All he needed was to find one small planet, something with gravity akin to Earth's own, and he'd be set for life.  He could sell the location of that planet for a veritable mountain of crystals, or more likely, a steady stream of them.  It wouldn't be unreasonable to request a mere tenth of a percent of the crystals gathered from that world, would it?

It had taken two weeks, and nearly all the crystals he'd saved, almost half a million of them, but he'd finally struck gold.  A planet, looking very much like Earth, a blue and white marble hanging in space.

Aleksander hadn't been able to get any closer to it, and his telescopes didn't provide a great deal of detail, but what he had been able to see was good enough.

He'd contacted two dozen media outlets, sending them images from the telescopes, and offering them a place at a press conference.  Now, he was on his way to that conference, where he would reveal nothing new, save for his intention to sell the location of that world in a public auction.

He smiled grimly as he continued walking.  The very first thing he was going to do with those crystals was build a proper space ship.  One with insulation and a heater.