HAD THE SYSTEM not pronounced it for him, Zan never would have deciphered how to pronounce that name. "Nora-a-Zule," he enunciated slowly. "What is that?"

  "Wha--" he begun, pulling up the question mark-help sign.

  "System:" he asked, "What does this mean? Map terrain generated? Do I have a map of the bunker?"

  "Answer: Incorrect. A 'Map Terrain' refers to data files within Order machines. This is more than blueprints, it involves the living reality of the terrain, entities within which you've encountered, and the status and conditions of said terrain upon your last visit. When I launch queries with Local Administrator 'MAC' I receive the following information: 'existing map corrupted.' Additional Information: As Order practitioners, the duty of constructing new Map Terrains falls to you," the headset's simple machine-spirit informed him.

  "Okay. I get it. This is already par for the course, though, yeah? Like, I was going to do this already with repairing the bunker... so, like...? Am I going to need to go out of my way for this map thing?" he asked the headset.

  "Apologies. I have no information on that. Forwarding your information request to local administrator MAC. Please hold," the spirit machine answered.

  Moments later, he heard MAC's voice resound. He asked the same question but learned it was not needed as the newest Screen Master had already received his information query from the headset spirit. His answer was instant: "To answer your question, 'no.' You will not have to go out of your way to fulfill chartering duties. As the Order grows, this responsibility will gradually fall to less experienced initiates in need of practicing such skills as chartering entails, such as combat readiness and resilience. In the meantime, as long as you intend on repairing the bunker network and bringing them up and online, this responsibility will not bear a weary load upon your shoulders."

  "Cool... thanks for clearing that up," he replied, satisfied with the answers he received and simply happy he did not have to go out of his way with yet another side-diversion.

  With his mind alerted by the conversation with the headset and MAC, he rolled himself form the tent and yawned. Free of 'morning surprises,' he left the tent and found Jiehong by the fireside. Whiskey was asleep in her own tent.

  "Morning, bro," Jiehong said.

  "Morning... boy, did that sleep feel great!" he said, stretching his arms. He plopped his butt down on a stool. The campfire was gently simmering adding some glow to the morning's dull atmosphere.

  "Do we have any tea?" he asked, feeling in the mood of something hot.

  "Of course. I made a boiling pot of some of the local black tea. That's what that pot is," Jiehong said, pointing to a moderately sized kettle.

  He took a drinking cup which hung on the end of the fire's spoke and opened the kettle's lid; steam gushed out, as did a deliciously rich aroma. He dipped his wide-mouthed cup into the tea, filling his cup to the brim before he poured back in a small amount. "Hot-hot-hot!" he quipped as falling rivulets of tea scorched his fingers.

  Nevertheless, he persevered and took several dip sips of the tea. His eyes, he felt, widened at the sudden introduction of caffeine. "Frick yeah! I'm ready to go!"

  Ignoring him, Jiehong said, "And how is the tea?"

  "Bland," he said. "It would be better with sugar. Or milk. Both, ideally..."

  "We have neither. Though I am sure the locals might be convinced to trade or sell a pittance now and again..."

  "Good idea. Maybe, we send Whiskey in town to do such bartering while we explore the dungeon?" he proposed.

  "You might wish to include Whiskey in on the planning when she awakes. I have no issues with that but why have Whiskey do this? We might have need of her in the bunker. I think handling domestics can be done at the end of the day," Jiehong said.

  "Again, you're wise consul. Now I know why our town's leaders wanted you to follow in their footsteps," he said, already not knowing why he thought Whiskey might be best served running frivolously errands. She was an Order Warrior. Her place was as Jiehong said -- on the battlefield.

  "I picked up a few things from our parents," Jiehong said. "But I think it was mostly their influence in town which led to my success, rather, than anything I did or could do."

  "I dunno... you always seemed capable. You always tried to negotiate between I and the parents," he said. "When we were having our fights, I mean."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "True. Always a bit of good and bad with every situation..." Jiehong said, clearly not wanting to talk about the past.

  He took another few sips of his tea, delighting in the energy boost.

  "Shall we get her up?" he asked, referring to Whiskey.

  "Let her sleep in. I think she's only been asleep for the last few hours. Since you're up and ready, actually, could you cover me while I get another few hours myself? Since you're so up and ready to go," Jiehong said.

  "Fine, fine! But don't get greedy with those slumbers, alright? It's pretty boring doing nothing on watch," he told his brother. Which was true. There wasn't anything to do while serving as lookout. Just you and the world-on-watch.

  Jiehong thanked Zan and got himself back into the tent. From within its sleeping compartment, he heard a yell not long after Jie entered the tent -- "ZAN! Why does the tent smell like your flatulence!!!"

  Heaved to the ground as if by gravity, his laughter brought him down several notches while he rolled back and forth on his sides. "Sorry!" he yelled, barely getting the apology out while busily engaged with dislodging more and more laughs.

  Between his non-stop giggling and his brother's discomfort, neither of them could do anything productive. Rolling laughs later, however, produced a typical response from him, when Zan told his brother, "Sorry. Really... you know how I get when we have these fiber heavy foods."

  Like a wildebeest in a play, Jiehong sighed, lamenting, mostly to himself, but also to his brother, how "I will find a way to get over my brother's cardinal grossness," before he fell to the sleeping mat and lost consciousness.

  By the time he heard his brother's snoring, his hearty laughter became a thing of the past.

  For a while, he able handedly kept himself focused on the task at hand -- making sure no wild animals, brigands, or bad-meaning folk intruded upon their campsite.

  This was only so motivating for so long, though.

  Maybe an hour or more after Jiehong went to sleep did he again feel the lull of boredom. He constantly shifted his head toward Whiskey's tent, just to see if she might be stirring. Once she was awake, it would be less boring.

  "Until then, meanwhile..." he spoke to himself, wondering what he should do.

  A ping. The Screen Master. One of them. Simulacrum or MAC. Who knew.

  "You look bored," Sigma-Prime said, surprising him since he expected one of the Screen Masters.

  "You could say that again," he replied, drolly.

  "I have a solution for your boredom, if you're interested. It is possible to re-connect to your memories of watching and performing the command center tutorials. We can't filter to you new tutorials, but if it is only about encouraging what you've already seen, I can encourage your headset so you might re-experience the tutorials. You could use time like this to apply yourself to your studies and master training material."

  "Yeah, sure. I have nothing else to do," he said, allowing Sigma-Prime to patch him into a re-creation of the tutorials he already had completed.

  He felt his mind speckle with strange energies as the wires within his skulls and brain slithered lightly. What did it look like? Fuzzy, was a word which came to his mind. The memory came back to him, and he saw the face of Lord Commander Garul materialize, seemingly, over the fire pit.

  The lessons he re-experienced were not lessons he needed advancement in. He had already mastered such lessons during his time at the Command Center. He was only re-watching them now because he had to do something to pass the time while on watch.

  At the end of several lessons, he saw the time fly. He would have found this feature immensely useful had it been rolled out in time for the earliest part of his Order career. It would have made those days of traveling between provinces ride much smoother. 'Better late than never,' he surmised.

  Finally, he heard, after many more lessons, it seemed, the sweetest tone he wanted to know: Whiskey saying, 'good morning.'

  "Oh, thanks to the gods. You're up!" he said.

  "I am... you look bored. Is that tea fresh?" Whiskey said with a yawn.

  "Gods! You have no idea. So bored, I was! And no. The tea is hours old... I want sugar and milk for it," he replied, morosely, like he was a petulant child not getting their way with an unreasonable request at a festival.

  She dipped her cup and brought it to her lips for a sip. "I see what you mean. It is stale. Better than nothing, though. Quality isn't something we can afford to complain over."

  Letting herself drink for a few moments, Whiskey eventually confirmed, "Yeah. I would like this with sugar and dairy, too. Later tonight we will head to the village. See if anyone has goods for trade."

  "I like it. Jiehong made a similar comment before he returned to sleep. You're fine with probing these bunker tunnels, then?" he asked.

  "Of course. Seems like we have nothing else to do. We don't know where our 'Masked Friend' is, this is our best bet. I can't think of any other thing to do before tunnel diving, anyway. We are on good terms with the village. Aside from those cables... but we will handle that issue when we have to. We don't have to right now. Bunker busting is good in my book. Though, as a leader, Zan, you might want to take more of a commanding presence when you're leading us. If you want to be that grandmaster in more than just title, you are going to need to know what to do, when and how to do it, and instill in people the will to do it. I like how you are taking our thoughts into mind, I am, but there is more to leadership than taking consul," Whiskey explained, him wondering if she had that whole speech prepared or if she winged it on the spot.

  "All very true. That is how I am doing it for now. I feel like this way, I can be myself while also leading. I am no good if I try and bull-rush my way through. I will keep what you said in mind, though. Because you're right. When we expand, things will have to change. That won't be until later, though. So, why rush?" he told her, wondering when Jiehong would wake up and the day could be gotten going-on.

  Jiehong woke an hour later. His face filled with the same snotty-ill-ease he and Whiskey had felt themselves. Handing his brother his drinking mug, it was filled with black tea. He galloped down the whole cup. "Hoooot!" he shouted as the scalding liquid went down his throat.

  "Enough lily-licking. Let's get a move on. Late morning. Time to go," Jiehong said. "Right after I pee! Holy crap, that went straight through me!"