Sidekick by Carl Stubblefield (10 best novels of all time .txt) 📗

“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” Gus said, still unconvinced drones would be that great, remembering how easily the mantids tore his own drones apart.

She went on to defend her choice but Gus barely heard all her ideas for implementation. This spot was the perfect temperature and he closed his eyes, trying to nod when appropriate to show he was paying attention.

Chapter Twenty-One

Comin’ Thru

After the adrenaline from the battle had long burned away and sitting in the warm sun, Gus was deeply tired; he began to feel himself fading fast. “I gotta get to bed, I’m so tired all of a sudden.”

“It was a busy day. I think I’m going to crash early too. I’m going to finish making some upgrades to the manor so we won’t get caught unprepared. Do you want to see what I’ve picked out?”

Gus shook his head and waved for her to go on without him. “I trust you; you pulled that EMP out just in time. I’ll put you in charge of facilities. Do I have to give you some kind of authorization to make those decisions?”

“You already did when you made me lieutenant.”

“Good. Okay, knock yourself out. I’m going to bed.” He staggered to the elevator and fell into bed. Gus thought he heard a chime as he fell asleep, but he was too tired to even check as he fell into a familiar dream. He had it repeatedly, but it was one of those that was easy to forget the particulars.

The young apprentice crept downstairs in the dark and silent manor. The boy made his way to the large door that led to the alchemist’s secret cache.

The manor had been in his master’s family for many, many generations, and the lock, which was the best of its kind when it was made, was still functional, but less secure than what had been made for many years. On the floor below was a sturdier door. It was covered with powerful wards and complex locks. Large and vault-like, it would be a challenge to any master thief. But the boy knew this to be a decoy.

One night, after a failed invasion of the manor and the thief was apprehended, the family had celebrated. The master alchemist had become quite drunk and bragged about how the family had a special protection for their legacy. A special enchantment hid the real location of their unique potions, and if one was not told of it, the mind would slide over this hiding place like oil on water.

“The thief had no chance!” the master laughed. He gloated over the value and contents of the hidden trove.

That was when the boy had begun to make his plan. The next day, the master remembered nothing of the exchange, and the boy did not say anything about the matter.

Facing the nondescript door, he surveyed the challenge. The lock appeared to be fairly basic, after what the boy had learned. He got his tools out and deftly picked the lock; it was easier than he expected. The door swung silently outward. Grabbing a candlestick, the boy made his way down the stairs. The scant light refracted through multitudes of flasks and bottles filled with various colored liquids.

This was what the boy sought. These potions were the rare, select ones that raised one’s stats. With what was in this chamber, he could become so much more. The potions were meticulously arranged. The boy, who had thought about this moment for as long as he could remember, opted to start with the strength potions. This would fortify him to tolerate all the other changes the potions would do.

Wasting no time, he grabbed the first vial. He uncorked it and drank the contents. It was bitter, and he could feel some flaky sediments at the base of the vial.

Ugh. Who knows how old these are? I’ll bet some have been here so long they have become inactive.

Steeling himself, he grabbed the next vial. This one tasted like a decent herbal tea, albeit cold.

Not too bad, I could tolerate them if they were all like that.

Still the boy felt no stronger. This was more disappointing than expected. One more. Another.

All of a sudden, he felt a cramp. Worry began to creep up the boy’s spine but then the discomfort passed. He watched as his weak frame seemed to stretch and fill out. At first, he could see thin bands of muscle become visible, which reminded him of the town messengers who ran to and fro delivering missives.

The quaffing recommenced. His runner’s build soon gave way to the thicker builds of rangers and progressed to a full-fledged warrior’s build.

He was worried that there would be some side effects, but he honestly felt better than he ever had in his life. And this was permanent! After finishing all the strength potions, he moved on to agility, and constitution.

His skin tightened and he could tell something was happening to make it stronger than even plate steel. His increased agility made the consumption of the potions all the faster. Initially, he was worried he would become full or waterlogged from drinking so many potions, but this was not the case. The rapid growth must be utilizing all of that extra moisture.

Now onto intelligence and wisdom potions. Awareness and ideas, plans and schemes flooded into his mind. Past conversations the master had with other specialists came rushing back, recalled in perfect clarity, and he began to understand the subjects they were discussing, then to see where they were occasionally incorrect in their suppositions and conclusions.

His mind expanded and he began to understand both the inner workings of his own body and how mana flowed in and out of his system. Designs and structures behind the symbols and gestures of wizards, mages, and necromancers began to become clear. And then he was done. There was nothing left but piles and piles of bottles.

Then the door above him opened, bright light spilling down upon