Chapter 32 #2
The houses are all mansions. Every single one of them. Spaced out evenly. Enormous yards attached. Neighborhoods spanning in every direction, and that’s it. No shopping malls. No stores. Nothing but homes.
“You don’t have stores?” I ask in confusion, mostly to myself.
“No, if you need something, it is provided,” Val replies. “Once you have your Viking Touch and Viking Lens, you’ll be able to request anything. It will be delivered.”
“Geez,” I say. “So, no capitalism? People don’t work to earn money?”
“There is no need for something so outdated,” she says, shaking her head. “Greed is one of the roots of evil.”
“Not very Viking of you,” Sigurd mutters, seemingly perplexed by the idea.
“It is our way,” she says. “Perhaps your way isn’t very Viking. We’re meant to evolve, not live in the past with legends and lore.”
“Yet your kind have Fenrir’s Mark,” Erik says. “You must know some legends are true.”
“We treat them as if they are all true. Who are we to question it? We were not there,” she answers. “Fenrir’s Mark confirms one of them has truth, so there was a time when gods walked amongst us. Great. But they’re gone now. We don’t exactly owe them anything.”
“Even less than you think,” Ivar mutters. “So, you don’t raid? Pillage?”
“No,” she scoffs, raising a brow. “But don’t worry. We’re familiar with your kind. We take refugees under the agreement we made with the Intergalactic Alliance. We understand not all Vikings have evolved.”
“Do you still have feasts?” Sigurd asks.
“Yes,” Val says, cracking a half-smile. “We’ll have one to celebrate your arrival, of course. We didn’t get rid of the fun traditions. Just the ones that had us on our knees all the time praying to the past, and a few of the ones that just no longer made sense.”
The ship glides to a stop and I don’t even realize it until Val stands up. The door hisses open and she walks down the steps. I can’t help glancing at my mates to see if they’re checking out her ass, because I think I would be if I were a man. They still only seem focused on me and the babies.
I guess they really do like my sweet honey as much as they say.
“You’ll be staying here. Everything you need will be provided, if it isn’t already waiting for you. Just connect yourself to the Viking-Fi Network via your devices, which are on the table by the door,” she says.
“And our memories?” Erik asks. “The ones you scanned.”
“The profiles are available on your devices,” she replies flatly. “As is everything else. Don’t forget that President Haggard would like to have dinner with you in a few days, once you’re settled.”
“A feast,” Sigurd chuckles.
“Yes,” she says, turning back to the ship.
She gets on and the ship rises, then zooms away. I turn to look at the mansion. It’s enormous. It looks like you could fit an army inside. There are roses along the concrete path to the front door, and they smell like heaven. Even the babies quieten down when we walk past them.
“Okay, maybe you picked a good planet this time,” Ivar sighs, opening the door.
“Yeah, if there’s no demon living here executing people for denying his existence, I’m going to call this one a win,” Erik says, taking the arm Sigurd isn’t supporting.
“I don’t need that much help,” I say, but I let them assist me anyway.
The first thing I see when I step inside nearly makes me jump out of my shoes. There’s a giant seven-foot-tall Viking, standing still as a statue, with his eyes closed. He’s wearing a butler uniform.
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
“Oh, wait a minute,” Sigurd growls, making sure Erik has me before pulling away. “Who the fuck are you? Thought this was our place.”
The Viking’s eyes open and his smile widens until it almost looks comical. “Hello, I am your personal Vikingo,” he says, his voice like a chime.
“Yeah, no, fucking no,” Ivar says. “It’s one of those robots. Remember? We found one in that scrap heap a long time ago.”
“Oh, yeah, no,” Erik laughs. “Let me see if I can remember. Yes, Vikingo off.”
The smile disappears and the eyes close. It lowers its head and goes silent.
“Those things are annoying as fuck,” Sigurd snarls. “All we had was the head, though. Not a full body.”
“They’re just robots?” I question, walking closer and touching the Viking. The skin is too rubbery, even if it looks real.
“Yeah, they do all sorts of shit for you,” Ivar says. “We don’t need that. Not right now. I need some food.”
“Well, he would make us some of that,” Erik offers hesitantly. “But no, we’ll manage.”
“These must be the devices.” Sigurd points to a table next to the door. “Are we sure they’re safe to put on?”
“Not at all, but let me scan them,” Erik says, removing his Vik-Touch from his pocket.
He swipes it across the Viking Touch, which looks like the tablet Val had, and the Viking Lens, which appears to just be a small contact lens.
“Nothing, I can’t get a reading. I’d have to hack them, but it looks like the Viking Touch is a more advanced version of our Vik-Touch. Probably why the names are similar.”
“Don’t start hacking anything yet. Not while they’re calling us friends,” Ivar mutters. “They already scanned our memories. If they wanted to hurt us, they could.”
“I’ll try it on first,” Erik says, holding the contact lens up, the slipping it into his eye. It vanishes with a quick glimmer. “Wow, don’t even notice it.”
“What does it do?” I ask.
“Seems to interact with the Viking Touch. Oh, yeah, those holograms we saw are an interface,” Erik clarifies. “Neuro linked so I can just move stuff around without even touching it.”
“Alright, safe enough,” Ivar sighs. “Oh, look in the room over there. Cribs.”
“Really?” I say, looking over. “Thank goodness. They’ll need food soon, but I’m sure they’ll want a nap too.”
“They need a change of diapers.” Sigurd makes a face. “Big time.”
“Yeah, bring them in here,” I say, gesturing for them to follow me.
It’s not just some cribs; it’s an entire nursery. There’s a bathing area, which we take advantage of, and their diapers apparently will last a full week before they have to be changed. I don’t even question it. I just put them on.
“The future is pretty nice,” I say, looking around the nursery.
“Everything is so gray, though,” Erik says. “I wonder why. You’d think they’d love color, considering how advanced they are.”
“Are they more advanced than you were?” I ask. “Before the plague, I mean.”
“I’d have to do some research, but it looks like they have focused more on cooperation than war, which has advanced them in various ways,” Erik replies. “Our weapons might have been better, but it doesn’t seem like they need them. Maybe there’s a lesson there.”
“I’m not quite ready for that kind of lesson,” Sigurd admits. “But it is nice and there’s some formula over here, so I’m going to feed Vivar.”
“More good news,” Erik announces. “The memory scans, if they’re being truthful, were exactly like Val said. Profile information. Very basic. Nothing we wouldn’t tell them ourselves.”
We settle into the nursery and get the babies fed.
Once they’re safe in their cribs with full bellies and diapers that won’t need changing for a while, we put on our Viking Lens and I look over my Viking Touch.
It’s much more advanced than tablets back home.
Everything we’ve been told seems to check out, from what I can see.
Maybe we’ve finally found somewhere safe.
Even if it isn’t the Midgard they were hoping for.