41. The Big, The Fat, and The Rich

Looking around at all their faces, I tried to process the crazy idea.

When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell. 

Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may. 

After all...I can't fix stupid.

Previously: Chuck shares the history of the Demoni Vankil seals and how one was conveniently placed among the little folk. Alhannah breaks the stress in the room by suggesting something truly crazy to solve the issue at hand…

---

No, money can’t buy you happiness…but it sure makes a lot of other crap easier to deal with.

I sat upright.

Everyone but Lili was grinning uncomfortably wide.

…at me.

Ever had one of those moments?

People looking at you in a way that you wonder if they’re thrilled…or they’re hungry and want to eat you?

Just me?

Yeah. Creepy.

Looking around at all their faces, I tried to process the crazy idea.

“Trench Wars,” I said.

Alhannah nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me. Fight in Trench Wars.”

Dax nodded. “Yeah.”

“In those robots…”

“S.L.A.G.s,” Alhannah corrected me.

“Sorry, S.L.A.G.s…like the ones you showed me on the,” I scratched my head.

“uPod,” Dax finished.

“YEAH!” squealed Chuck, rattling his staff in the air. “You don’t have to say thank you just yet, son,” he stammered, “‘Hannah here will have to get you a sponsor.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Sponsor? I’m still trying to grasp this idea! Yeah, I want to help, but…I mean, I will help, don’t get me wrong.” The chair suddenly felt uncomfortable to sit in. “How is me, fighting alone in a…S.L.A.G. going to help?”

Alhannah threw her arm over Dax’s shoulder and gave him a side-squeeze. “Actually, I thought it would be even better if all three of us got in the pits.” She nudged the elf. “Do this as a team.”

“Me?” Dax yelped. “SweEET!” He jumped high, flipping backward, and landed on the kitchen table. It creaked under his weight. He started what I think was dancing. “This is…gonna be…so much fun!”

Not wanting to be the party pooper, I forced myself to grin back. They seriously thought this was fun? Strapping yourself into a giant walking can? I tried to imagine the explosions and, if I remember correctly, gunfire. Add to that the screaming fans all around you.

Fans.

Huh.

Then again, I hadn’t truly considered the goal.

They wanted me to become the grand champion.

Of Trench Wars.

Clockworks City #1 Extreme Sport.

Huh.

Then it hit me.

I, Wendell Paul Dipmier, the geek of all Earth geeks, would be the idol of millions of screaming fans?

That…sounded awesome. Even if they were three feet tall.

I’m pretty sure the sides of my mouth slowly curled upwards.

“Ok, that does sound kinda cool,” I said.

Dax stopped dancing. “Kinda cool?”

I held up my hand to stop him. “There’s still a problem no one’s brought up, Dax. I’m not a fighter. You know that. Think back to the tavern. My attempts were futile at best. My efforts when we got to Humär were even worse!”

Chuck stood there, just staring at me, considering my words.

I sighed. “All I seem to be good at is getting hurt, and you want me to become a champion?” Reaching out, I poked Alhannah with an index finger to her shoulder. “We had an agreement. You’d teach me how to fight, and I’d try to not die.”

She snorted. “Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you completely messed up on your end.”

That got a chuckle from everyone around the room.

It was funny, so I laughed. “My point was that we never got that chance. And these are pilots, Alhannah—how am I supposed to compete against experienced people like that…in a S.L.A.G.? I’m awkward on a bicycle, and you want me to get into a giant machine? We just went from impossible to impossible and weird.”

“But that’s the point, Wendell,” Alhannah said, her grin wide as ever, “Now is the perfect time TO train you. There’s a reason I became the champion of Trench Wars, and that’s because I’m good at it. The only reason I’m not the champion right now is because I walked away…to see my dad. I can show you how to make these machines dance. Plus, you’ll have the protection of metal wrapped around you!”

“With BULLETS being fired at me!”

“Baby,” Dax snorted.

“Really?” I snorted back. “You’re gonna call me a baby after what we’ve been through so far?”

“It only bullets,” Dax mumbled.

“Only…,” I took a deep breath. “Have YOU ever been shot at?” I challenged.

Dax nodded. “Shot at, shot up, and if we’re being technical here, I was also shot OUT of a….”

“I APOLOGIZED FOR THAT FOUR TIMES ALREADY,” Chuck yelled.

The room went so quiet, you could have heard a fly fart.

Chuck, with all eyes on him, slowly stood upright and smoothed his robes out. “I may have…made some not-so-wise-judgements. It had been a rough week, I’d not slept well, and…,” he noticed Dax glaring at him and gulped. “I…,” but he faltered.

“Go on,” Dax said. He folded his arms.

“I…should not have involved the cow.” He sighed so hard, his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

Dax smirked, then nodded once. “Apology accepted.”

Cow?

“Wait,” I said, “didn’t you say humans weren’t supposed to be here?” The gnomes and all their technology were as close to being at ‘home’ that I’d experienced so far. The computers, monitors, TVs, the way their society functioned…mostly…all reminded me of Earth. The thought that I wasn’t allowed to be here almost made me laugh. Then again, it was odd to me that no one had brought this up. “You know, they’re going to notice a tall, gawky human kid trying to fold himself into one of these S.L.A.G.s.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, son,” said Chuck. He grinned at me just a little too much. “I have that part already covered,”

Dax frowned. While everyone grinned on, he looked nervous.

“What’s Chuck talking about?” I asked him.

The elf fidgeted. “Well…”

“Oh, for TGII’s sake,” Alhannah sighed. “Uncle Chuck has charms you can all wear that’ll change you into gnomes. You’ll fit in fine. Problem solved.”

I coughed. “I’m going to be squished into the shape of a gnome?”

“We all are,” said Lili, a slight quiver in her voice.

I know this was something I’d have to get used to, but having Lili around unnerved me. Our first encounters got off on the wrong foot, I get that. My attraction to her got me killed. Not my best moment…or maybe it was my best moment, I don’t know. What I knew was that she’s the first female to prove that some girls…are too pretty. Uncomfortably pretty. I’m not comPLAINING, mind you, it’s just. Well…it’s hard to THINK around her.

‘Breathe,’ whispered Doubt.

“You knew about this?” I said.

Lili did some shy, biting the bottom lip thing.

I completely forgot why I’d asked her the…

“What was I saying?” I gulped.

“Chuck explained what we would need to do once we got here,” Lili said. “When we were squished in the box.”

“What box?” I asked.

“When we were,” but she stopped. “Oh. You were still…” She tried to maintain eye contact with me, but failed. “Well, you know. Asleep, I guess? Alhannah and Chuck worked with me to adjust to these…experiences. I had so many questions, Wendell.”

She said my name.

I liked when she says my name.

‘Focus,’ Doubt whispered again.

Shut up.

Chuck stepped around Lili, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “You will not be squished into anything, son. It’s more like shaving off.” He made cutting motions with his fingers. “A little nip here, a little tuck there. You know, bits you won’t need for a while.” He winked at me. “They do it in Hollywood all the time.”

“I do NOT have bits I,…wait a minute…Hollywood?!?”

I frowned at Chuck.

He grinned back.

Nooooo.

I rubbed my temple with a palm.

I’m not going to ask. I’m not going to ask.

“And the gnomes here…this resistance,” I looked over at Motherboard, who was watching and listening through the monitor. “You want me to represent you?”

Alhannah hopped up onto the edge of the table. “Think of it as being more of a funnel, Wendell. We create a loyal following of fans who are already obsessed with listening to Trench pilots. We get the masses following you, then you simply point them toward the G.R.R..”

“And this is a good thing? No offense, I’m grateful for the G.R.R. helping me—but…”

“We have far more respect for you, Wendell,” Motherboard cut in, “because you’re questioning all this. Please don’t apologize.”

“This is the most direct route I can think of for you to work your way into this society,” Alhannah added. “I think once you have the public’s attention, you’ll be able to win their hearts, not just their minds.” She smiled at me. That sweet, adorable, I know she’s got something planned that I’m likely to regret a kind of smile. “You have a way of doing that with people, kiddo.”

“But isn’t this…deceptive?” I asked.

Chuck pat me on the head like you would a little child. “Let’s call it strategic instead of deceptive.” He smirked. “At least until we find the last seal.”

I’m not saying everything went great, but I had to admit — this was the first time I felt what was being asked of me was actually possible.

No, I’d never been in a giant robot.

Now, I’d never been in combat, and if you’ve ever watched a Trench Wars competition, it’s most certainly combat.

…but it all made sense, and that was an advantage.

We spent the next two days in counsel, working out the details and specific expectations between us and the G.R.R.. In the end, I actually respected Motherboard’s passion and love for his people. He didn’t have a problem answering my thousand-and-one question. He didn’t push, and when I asked anything, he would provide the information until I was fully satisfied.

That made it much easier to agree to the terms of our arrangement.

Turns out the Gnome Resistance Revolutionaries were a group of independent thinkers that believed in the original way of gnome life. The original laws of the land, and were willing to sacrifice anything and everything to protect and empower the gnome citizens of Clockworks City.

How could I not respect that?

Plus, I liked the idea of having a place to come and visit. A haven that I could relate to, away from the rest of the world. Clockworks was so much like the inner cities on Earth, I adjusted almost immediately and felt right at home. My grasp of the surrounding technology astounded everyone, especially Lili.

Okay, repulsed would have been more accurate.

She was never rude, or anything like that, but you could tell technology made her very uncomfortable. At first I thought maybe this would be a way to close that uncomfortable gap between us…to get to know her better.

Nope.

No matter how much I tried to show her the benefits and simplicity of technology, she refused to use the gnome ‘magic’, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Motherboard’s plan called for a split. Alhannah was chosen to take the lead in immersing me into the Trench games, while the leader of the G.R.R. and its powerful data resources would assist Morphiophelius in tracking down the seal. Morty saw no need for his presence any longer and traveled back to his warehouse to resume his own research. Though not before reminding Chuck of his promise. Deloris also decided it was time she resumed a life she had sorely missed…and quickly followed behind her now overly respected husband.

Nat was eager to get involved in the Trench Wars campaign. Not only was he a die-hard fan of the sport, Alhannah quickly pointed out that his computer skills could make or break our success.

As a previous Trench Wars champion, Alhannah possessed a few perks we could immediately take advantage of.

The title granted her special privileges throughout the city. Preferential treatment, free travel without license restrictions…and her fan base included many of the city’s centurions, which came in handy. Access back into the games as a contestant would be easy, but that wasn’t the only issue.

“We can’t get into the games without a sponsor,” she explained. “Someone has to bankroll the S.L.A.G., the RAT team, and all the gear we’re gonna need. Well, times three, which ain’t cheap.”

I laughed. “RAT team? As in the disgusting little rodents?”

She smirked. “Not quite…and don’t laugh too hard or you might hurt Nat’s feelings. He’ll be heading up our team.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” replied Nat, looking quite smug, “With Cryo’s help, I’m all the digital muscle you’ll ever need.”

Dax picked at the food in his teeth with a fish bone. “Nice.”

“Not mice, silly child…rat.”

“I said NICE, Chuck, not mice.”

The wizard smiled. “Well, thank you. You’ve been quite nice yourself lately, which I must say is a considerable improvement over your usual charming disposition.”

“I think someone needs a nap,” I snorted.

Nat typed something onto his keyboard, and two gnome faces flashed onto the huge overhead screen. “All the information of Clockworks is connected and accessible…if you know where to look. It’s a lot like a spider’s web, so that’s what we call it. The web. This screen is called a…”

“Website,” I blurted out.

Nat looked at me and smiled. “Very good. You’re a natural, Wendell, I’m impressed!”

Lili stared at me in awe. Then again, it could have been disgust, I’m not sure. I grinned back at her and tapped my index finger on his temple.

Chuck just rolled his eyes.

“The Brothers Trench site has all the stats for each season, the pilots and the sponsors, Alhannah. There’s a press release from corporate saying they’ve changed the rules of sponsorship.” Nat clicked a few more buttons, and the screen changed to show legal contracts. “It looks like the brothers themselves no longer sponsor pilots. Seeing as they’re still competing themselves, corporate didn’t think it was fair to the other players to have a favorite.”

“Makes sense, if you think about it,” I said. “They run the games. No matter who wins, they win…but if they have a favorite, they’d be shooting themselves in the foot.”

“Hmmm.” Alhannah paced the floor. “Can you pull up the list of current sponsors and their teams?”

A list of sponsors flashed onto the screen.

“None of the current companies are taking on new pilots,” I noticed. “Does that mean the plan’s a wash?”

Alhannah shook her head. “It just means we have to find a new sponsor. Though I don’t think we should approach just anyone. We’ll have to sign contracts AND be promoters for whoever backs us.”

“Well, that narrows things down,” said Nat. “Wendell shouldn’t be beholden to anyone unless they’re friendly to the resistance.”

Dax grumbled. “Ya got any moneybags sympathetic to the G.R.R.?”

Nat’s grin stretched from enormous ear to enormous ear. “Just one.”

“Just relax.”

Alhannah kept fidgeting. “I haven’t worn street clothes in so long. I’ve forgotten how exposed I feel without my armor.”

The trailer rolled over a stone, jarring the crate, and I hit my head.

“Ow,” I whispered.

“Sorry Wendell,” Nat said. “I was just a suggestion, Alhannah — something that would look nice to create a better impression on our potential sponsor.”

“I still prefer my body wrapped in metal.”

There was a long pause, and I could imagine Nat’s hand going to his fresh new black eye. I stifled a laugh. The black eye would remind him to think twice before suggesting dresses again. Warrior gnome chicks don’t do dresses, they don’t do bikinis, and they most certainly don’t wear high heels.

“Shoes should be comfortable and allow a female to run, jump and break bones,” Alhannah had said…after punching Nat in the head.

Luckily, all they had available was an earth tone jumper, used for the night cleaning crew. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing and Nat had conceded without further argument. Her hair was pulled back into a single ponytail and she’d put on her nicer earrings…which doubled as razor throwing stars.

Hey, a girl has to be prepared.

“Why couldn’t he come to us?” she complained.

Nat laughed, and I heard a buzzer sound. The kind you’d hear at a place of residence, or maybe a security entrance. The slats of wood were so close, it was hard to see. We’d stopped in front of huge wooden doors.

“Are you serious? Mr. Philburt Bellows? THE Bellows, come to us?”

“I get it — he’s a rich guy.”

“No, you don’t get it — and I need you to, right now!” Nat sounded panicked. “Bellows is the main financial supporter for the G.R.R.. He’s also the richest gnome alive. He hates the hold the government has on people, but he’s not interested in getting political.” Nat looked at her sternly, the ring around his eye looking even darker. “That’s why he works through us. We have to sell him on how this will benefit him, not us. I’ll do all the talking, since I represent the G.R.R.. Got it?”

She nodded, “Got it.”

The doors, made of actual wood, which Alhannah had told me was extremely rare in Clockworks, towered over them. Limited resources, specifically wood, were ‘farmed’ in huge domes, or in secure locations, and any harvesting was strictly prohibited. You had to have great connections and even greater wealth to gain access to wood. Those with the skin to work with this rare substance were also of the most elite class.

These doors looked to be at least twenty feet tall. Waste of good trees, with all the talk of scarcity.

Alhannah started biting her nails and tapping her foot impatiently.

“Stop that,” Nat whispered.

“Look, Nat, unless you want me to pop you in the other eye…” she considered, “and then the nose for good measure, I’d zip it.”

“Alhannah,” I whispered.

The computer gnome rolled backward a foot and held his hands up defensively, “O-ok. No n-need to get mad.”

I don’t think it was just the clothes and feeling exposed that got to her — it was having to enter the ‘Religious Tower’ of Clockworks. She wasn’t what some would call a church-goer. In fact, she told me she avoided the church here like the plague. Not that she hated those who did got or church, or that she even hated TGII.

That was the name of their god. It stood for ‘The Great It Is’, which I found very interesting. A giant universal sentient machine.

Alhannah had problems with the hypocritical attitudes and, how did she put it? The ‘two-faced squirrel-dung members who looked down on those who were just trying to be the best people they knew how.’ That ticked her off. She refused to be a part of a community that took advantage of a laborer’s skill to build a cathedral, then excluded him from worship because he was beneath the rich.

“Oh, for spit,” she grunted and kicked the doors repeatedly.

Nat almost fell over. “Stop that!!”

She glared back at him. “Oh chill, gnome cart. Just letting ‘em know we’re here.”

Before he could complain, the sound of a shifting bolt chunked and clunked behind the wood, and one of the massive slabs creaked open. A wrinkled, old, balding butler appeared in a black tuxedo and white gloves. He nodded his head ever so slightly. His overly large ears, even for gnomes, folded forward and drooped down, his lobes brushing his shoulders.

“Good afternoon,” he said in a perfect tone. “May I help you?”

Alhannah slid in front of the wheelchair and grinned a cheesy grin. “Sure, buttercup, you can help us. We’re here to see old man Bellows. He in?” She stifled her urge to giggle when Nat gasped in utter embarrassment.

The old gnome raised a single eyebrow so high I thought it might disappear over his forehead. “And you are…..”

“I’m Alhannah Luckyfeller and this is my sidekick,” she glanced over her shoulder before adding, “Wheels. We have an appointment about gettin’ money.”

The butler raised the opposite eyebrow and slowly studied her from head to toe without the slightest pause. He then looked at Nat and frowned.

Nat gulped. “It’s a gift, from my boss to Mr. Bellows, sir.”

“Quite,” he replied in a cooler tone. “Won’t you come in?” He pulled the door open wide to allow Nat and his trailer-toting wheelchair in.

The door hadn’t even closed before Alhannah let out a long single-note whistle. I tried to shift from one opening between the slats to another, without making noise. In the end, I stayed on my back and took in what I could see above me and to either side by turning my head.

Beyond the doors, the building opened into an entranceway larger than Morty’s entire warehouse. But unlike the chilly feeling of metal, everything was made of wood and stone. Substances that looked like granite, marble, and slate formed the floors, walls and fifty foot columns rising to support the giant wooden beams overhead.

I pressed my face against the wood.

“Woah,” Alhannah breathed.

“I’ll second that,” I whispered to myself. The beams were carved to look like flocks of birds flying across the ceiling.

“If you will follow me,” the butler said firmly.

He led us down a hall to an almost regular height door. The butler opened the door wide for Nat to get through. “In here,” he said.

Shutting the door behind them, Alhannah started giggling. “You weren’t kidding, Wheels, this guy is loaded! Did you see how high those ceilings were? With all that wood?! Who has that kind o’dough? Bellows must be cuttin’ into the level above him. I bet that annoys the crap outta his neighbors.”

“Actually,” came a voice from behind her, “I own the two floors above us.”

Alhannah bit her lip and turned slowly.

It was a small library, clean and uncluttered. What I could see seemed to be polished, dark stained wood. Every wall had deep bookshelves carved to resemble trees, branches reaching out in the sunlight of the overhead bulbs. Not a single shelf was bare. Rows of perfectly organized books filled the voids and then I noticed the pattern.

All the carvings of the trees weren’t reaching out, they were swaying in an invisible wind.

Bending and leaning in one direction to draw your attention to a small fire popping at the far end of the room. Beside it, in the corner, was a writer’s desk.

A fat gnome, in an even wider leather chair, leaned out from behind his computer monitor and pulled his reading glasses down his nose. He looked over at them. The smirk on his face was unmistakable.

“And yes, Ms. Luckyfeller, I am indeed loaded.”

Nat unlatched from the trailer, rolled forward, swerving in front of Alhannah and straight towards the desk. “I am SO sorry Mr. Bellows. I d-don’t know what to…”

“It’s perfectly alright, Nat,” Philburt said, almost chuckling, “calm yourself. No harm done. No harm at all. The young lady was simply speaking her mind. A trait I find to be highly under appreciated.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Besides, she is right, isn’t she? You’ve come to me about…how did you put it, Ms. Alhannah? Oh yes,…gettin’ money.”

Alhannah grinned and plopped down casually in one chair. Without hesitation, she put her boots up on the corner of the desk. “So your ears are in the walls, eh, Bellows? I’ll have to remember that.”

“Among other places, Ms. Luckyfeller. But I’m a busy man with things to do—so I suggest the four of us get to the details, shall we?”

Nat’s jaw dropped open. “Four?”

Alhannah started laughing.

Bellows sighed. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting my very first human. You are safe mere Mr. Dipmier. Please have a seat with us.”

It was my turn to sigh. “I’m stuck.”

Alhannah hopped to my aid as Bellows chuckled. “I’m excited to discuss what I shall receive for my, I’m assuming, sizable financial investment.”

With a pop of the crowbar, I tumbled out the side of the cart, onto the rug.

Bellows laughed louder. “Of course, sizable is a relative term. I was excited to be asked if you must know. It’s rarely I get to spend my resources on something I consider fun.”

Nat looked at me and Alhannah, then back at the rich gnome. “You were asked? But we just got here.”

“Ah, Mr. Taylor, you must know that those with true power and influence do not simply listen in on those around us…we keep our connections strong and fluid.” With a flick of his wrist, he turned the computer monitor around. Motherboard sat in a chair in a similar-looking library. He was smoking a long stem pipe.

“I hardly needed to explain the advantages of sponsoring a former champion to Mr. Bellows. He insisted on meeting Wendell personally, which is why I suggested this charade. You have your sponsor, Alhannah. I’ll leave you to iron out those details.”

The screen went black.

Alhannah shivered. “I’m starting to think we’re never alone in a room.”

Philburt grinned widely. “That, my dear, would be a wise theory to live by.” He tapped his temple with a finger. “Keeps you on your toes.”

She surrendered her chair to me and walked to the fireplace.

There was an actual fire in it. I couldn’t help but stare.

“It would be an expensive commodity,” Bellows said calmly, “were that to be wood as fuel. I love the beauty of wood, but for burning, I subscribe to their traditional compressed garbage logs.”

I nodded.

“Clockworks is heated by coal, gas and some forms of oil. Only the mega-rich can burn a nearly extinct island resource. Maybe they do it for the smell, but obscenely wasteful.”

Alhannah lead against the side of the mantle and folded her arms. “So, not to shoot myself in the foot, but why would a guy loaded like you want to back a set of pilots? If you don’t mind me asking, that is?”

Philburt took the glasses from his nose and folded them, gently placing them on the desk. “Ms. Luckyfeller, I assume you are aware that I support a major portion of the G.R.R. with my substantial wealth?”

She nodded.

“Are you, however, aware that my fortune also supports the Government and Religious Factions? No, from the puzzled look on your face and the draining blood from Nat’s, neither of you seems to be aware of that fact.” He turned and smiled at me. “For your benefit, Mr. Dipmier…”

“Wendell,” I corrected him. “Just Wendell, is fine.”

Bellows nodded. “Wendell. Thank you. Maybe this will help educate you on our society and why we do what we do.”

“Why would you give money to the Government Faction,” Nat squeaked, “when you support the Gnome Resistance?”

Pushing his chair away from the desk, Bellows stood up. “Because it is wisdom, young man. Now, before your idealistic foundation starts to crack and crumble, it’s important for you to understand that I do, indeed, believe in and choose to support the G.R.R., and not the other two factions. I use my resources to gain favor and to maintain leverage throughout my interests.”

Alhannah snorted. “So you’re a despot, just like the rest of the power elite. Come on Wheels, let’s bail…I can find us a better sponsor.”

Tha-Thump-Thump.

“Wait a minute, Alhannah,” I said. “I’m curious. Motherboard said Mr. Bellows cared about the gnomes of the city. If you didn’t notice on our way in, this building is vast and beautiful…but I don’t recall seeing much in the way of furnishings.”

That got the rich gnome’s attention.

“No, Wendell,” Philburt replied, “You won’t find much in furnishing here. I use my leverage for favors to keep despots from taking over.” His kind expression faded. “As companies fold or are crushed under the weight of government intervention and regulations, my factories remain open. Jobs increase to provide at least a measure of relief for some who are cast out into the streets…and my foremen know to hire those with families first.” He motioned to a rather large framed map over the fireplace. It was a detailed schematic of Clockworks. “I buy favors from politicians by placing them in my debt — making it virtually impossible to function without my help, ensuring the longevity of my properties.”

Hundreds of red dots riddled the lower districts of the city, each marked by banners. District 12, District 13, District 14 and so on. “Are those your companies?”

“Every one of them.” He paused, studying Alhannah. Watching her eyes trace the patterns of the map. He smirked, “I’m quite the fan of your father’s work, Ms. Luckyfeller — and his agile mind. Let me offer you further information, in case you fall close to the tree. You may look up the wages I pay on the public database — my workers are the best paid in every industry.”

“That doesn’t even seem possible,” she snickered. “How can you create so much wealth without grinding people down?”

Philburt Bellows slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweater and walked over to join Alhannah on the map. “Because I do not invest in businesses. I invest in people. They are the only long-term venture worth the time, effort, and attention. My workers collectively own the companies with me. They share in the prosperity or failure of a business. My personal wealth comes from the small, collective shares of all my combined ventures…which are considerable. The lion’s share of my wealth is owned and enjoyed by my employees.”

Turning from her, Philburt looked over to Nat. “Which brings me to our agreement. I am investing in you and your companions. I will provide equal to half the funding of the top team in the league and not a credit more — and the funds will come into pieces, directly from each of my factories.”

“Half?!” Alhannah gawked. “How are we supposed to compete against the other pilots? This ain’t season one, buddy! Pilots use top of the line systems, weapons, and even run research and development divisions to design new gadgets!” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You have enough wealth to buy Trench Wars, why…”

The rich gnome’s brows rolled forward, his face set. “Because every credit I give you, or any other venture, is weighed against the needy and their families.” He waited, daring her to challenge him. Then he turned to look at me, and in a matter-of-fact tone, said, “In return, I do not expect you to win. I require it.”

I gulped loud enough for everyone to hear.

“IF you cannot win, then you will agree to create a spectacle that will steal the spotlight from those who are winning. This is about influence. If you fail — you must fail with honor and drama that will make the crowd love you even more.” He smiled wryly, tapping his bottom lip as if pondering. “Yes, a great deal of drama.”

Alhannah’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I was wrong about you. You’re not a despot, you’re a nut job.”

“Not a nut job, Ms. Luckyfeller, a visionary. I am interested in giving the people hope. Hope in their workplace and hope in knowing that they matter.”

She looked at Nat, whose expression was that of utter confusion. He shook his head and simply shrugged.

When she looked at me, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I liked this plan…cause it made sense.

Taking his seat once more, Philburt picked up his glasses and casually pressed a small button at the corner of his desk. A moment later, the butler opened the door. He looked at me as if I have been a normal part of the furniture.

Placing the glasses back on his enormous nose, the wealthy gnome examined the papers in front of him. “I’ll have my companies transfer funds into a sponsor account within the hour.” Without looking up, “Thank you for stopping by.”

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Want to start at the beginning? Grab yourself a copy of book one in the Chronicles of Hero series!

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