Chapter 10: This Money Feels... Unearned
Returning to his quarters with the servitor, Omega couldn't wait to get his hands on the exosuit, running his manipulators over every surface.
The adamantium frame was solid and reliable. The semi-open cockpit had multiple adjustable modes (standing, leaning, sitting) and could be operated directly via the neural-inductive port on his spine or through the force-feedback systems in the pilot's arms and legs. The two operating systems could be used independently or in tandem.
The power unit in the lower back was a sub-atomic fusion reactor with a backup solar charging system (including 100 solar cells)—the same type used in Space Marine power armor! The back housed an integrated, detachable mechadendrite assembly, far more advanced than Omega's own set. Four engineering arms, two large and two small, offered a wide range of motion. Their precision was average, but their power was immense, each capable of providing 1-3 tons of force. Their functions were diverse: gripping, cutting, polishing, welding, drilling... the list went on.
Excellent! Excellent! Truly excellent! Me getting this is like a fish getting water. A match made in heaven! (Wait, was it a donkey or a fish?)
However, Laust, that old fox, hadn't told the whole truth. This wasn't something he'd reverse-engineered! He'd clearly stolen a Battle Sister's Paragon Warsuit from somewhere, scraped off the Ecclesiarchy symbols, and modified it! The reputation of the Adeptus Mechanicus was being ruined by these light-fingered cog-heads!
Something's wrong! Something feels off!
Omega rubbed his chin, trying to pinpoint what was bothering him. After a moment, he slammed his right fist into his left palm. "How do I know it's a modified Paragon Warsuit?! How do I know it's the same power pack as Space Marine power armor?!"
He stared intently at the exosuit, trying to verify his suspicion. After a moment, a foolish grin spread across his face, the only expression he could manage.
System! Where have you been?! Do you know how I've survived this past half-year?! Waaah... (╥╯﹏╰╥)ง We'll never be separated again!
A person's spirit soars on the wings of good fortune. The factory workers now frequently saw the familiar sight of a senior Tech-Priest followed by a tiny, exosuit-clad priest—Priest Omega. Despite his small size and young age, Priest Omega worked a focused twelve-hour shift every day. He would even hum binary hymns to the Omnissiah while he worked. After a long day, his weary face would always be lit with the joy of a hard day's labor—a truly worthy cog of the Omnissiah. (Omega was actually getting preferential treatment; the other priests were only sleeping six hours every three days.)
Seeing Omega's performance, Magos Laust even began to suspect that he had frightened the boy into a psychotic break. He made several overt and covert attempts to check on him. "You're still young, still growing. Don't push yourself so hard. If you're not feeling well, just say so. I can be very reasonable."
Omega's response was that "work" (i.e., stealing knowledge) made him happy, and could the Magos please just gift him the exosuit?
Laust's response was that young people should maintain a work-life balance and not engage in such blatant daydreaming. The two parted on less than friendly terms.
Omega was having a great time learning, but some people were not so happy—namely, the aspirants, especially those like Paul who were nearing their final selection.
With his increased earnings, Omega didn't forget his underlings. After receiving his first month's salary, he bought a huge pile of canned meat and distributed it to everyone in the library, telling them to take home what they couldn't finish.
"Paul, don't look so worried all the time. Your mindset will affect your performance," Omega advised, looking at Paul, who was following him step-for-step with a face full of despair.
Paul forced a bitter smile. "I know, Boss, I know..."
"Listen to me. You've memorized everything you need to. The only reason you're freezing up is the pressure. The moment I give you the tiniest hint, you can recite it word for word. It's all in your head! Your mindset!"
Paul seemed to be lost in thought and blurted out, "You don't have a family. You don't understand. My family has sacrificed so much for me. Their expectations are so high. I..." He quickly caught himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that!" he stammered, panicking.
Omega couldn't say he understood, but he patted Paul's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. If it comes down to it, have Anduin buy you a shot of tranquilizer from the black market. I'll pay for it."
"Is... is that allowed?"
"Of course, but..." Omega hesitated.
Paul quickly interjected, "Don't worry, Boss! No matter the outcome, I'll find a way to pay you back."
Omega waved his hand. "No, it's not that. I just don't trust things from the black market. Who knows what the effects will be? If something goes wrong, it's not worth the risk!"
"Ah?! This..." Paul's face clouded over with uncertainty.
But Omega thought the idea had merit. Chemical assistance for exams was popular even in the second millennium. In the 42nd, the drugs were bound to be even more effective. "Here's the plan. We'll get you something, but not from the black market. I'll talk to Priestess Rhea and Magos Louis in the next couple of days. They're both skilled in biology and genetics."
"Really?!" Paul's face lit up with surprise.
"Relax. By the time we're done, it won't matter if it's for human or animal use. As long as the side effects aren't too severe, we'll get you fixed up. I guarantee you'll be able to stay focused on your exam even if a Titan is standing next to you."
"Animal use..."
"Don't worry," Omega reassured him. "The animals in Magos Louis's lab are much more delicate than you are."
The process of acquiring the "medicine" was surprisingly smooth, with none of the dramatic twists and turns of a holodrama. The only condition was that Omega had to record the effects of the drug.
The day he got the concoction, Omega gave Paul a dose to test it out. The effect was remarkable. Paul became as serene as a high-ranking confessor, with an air of having seen through the vanity of the material world. He answered Omega's test questions with flawless clarity. The only downside was that Paul urinated blood for the next few days, but for a normal person living on a Forge World, that was a minor issue.
Seeing their boss come through for them in such a powerful way, the aspirants now looked at Omega with an almost religious reverence, which made him a little uncomfortable.
Not wanting to let his followers down, but now short on free time, Omega temporarily put aside his research on "his" precious exosuit. He spent a week compiling a reference index.
That's right, just an index.
This index listed the exact chapter and paragraph in the holy theological texts where the core concepts of physics, chemistry, biology, genetics, mathematics, engineering, mysticism, cryptography, Lingua-Technis, metallurgy, runology, linguistics, and many other disciplines could be found, arranged from basic to advanced.
After completing it, Omega not only felt a great sense of accomplishment, but the jumbled knowledge in his head also seemed to fall into a neat, orderly system. His already brilliant mind became even sharper.
However, to avoid being branded a heretek for subverting the traditions of the Cult Mechanicus, Omega decided to first get Magos Laust's approval and backing. It would be even better if Laust signed his name to it as the author.
As expected, when Laust heard that Omega had spent his free time writing an index, he stared at him with an expression that screamed, "You clearly have too much time on your hands," and gestured for him to get lost. But the thick-skinned priest refused to leave. Finally, with nine parts annoyance and one part curiosity, Laust began to "peruse" Omega's magnum opus.
He would flip through the index, look at Omega, look back at the index, then at Omega again, muttering, "By the Void Dragon, why didn't I think of this?!"
"Well, Magos? What do you think?"
"Ah? Oh, not bad, not bad at all. There are just a few minor errors and omissions here. I've marked the places. Go back and correct them."
"Of course, Magos. Thank you for your trouble. Perhaps the Magos would consider adding his name as a co-author?"
At this, Laust's face immediately darkened. "I am not one of those slag-heaps who steals the work of others!" he roared.
"Magos, that's not what I..."
"Enough! Go back now!" Laust said gruffly.
I don't care about the credit! I'm just afraid some fanatic will come after me! (⋟﹏⋞)
Having failed to achieve his goal and having angered his immediate superior, Omega was quite dejected. He glumly gave the corrected index to his underlings. The aspirants' reaction... well, if Omega had declared himself the avatar of the Omnissiah right then and there, Paul and the others probably would have believed him.
For the next few days, Omega avoided Laust, but the Magos contacted him via his dataslate, asking if the book was finished. If it was, he was to upload it to the Grand Manufactorum's Cogitator Archives for official review by the Forge World. Omega hadn't planned on taking it this far, but with Laust pushing him, he had no choice. He had a scribe-servitor convert the text to binary data and sent it off. The Adeptus Mechanicus is a tech organization, after all, Omega reasoned. A small temple like Laust's probably has research quotas to meet. Using my book to pad the numbers isn't that surprising. It's a classic 2k-era bureaucratic move.
Half a month later, Omega had almost forgotten about the whole affair when he suddenly received a notification. His work had been approved. It then asked if he consented to sell his knowledge, either on consignment or through direct sale by the Grand Manufactorum.
Yes! Yes! All of it, yes! I wrote all those words; let someone else read them.
Knowledge is wealth. This was a universal value in the Cult Mechanicus. The more knowledge a Tech-Priest possessed, the wealthier they were. When in need of material wealth, they could sell their knowledge. When in need of knowledge, they could buy it. Approval from the Grand Manufactorum meant that, at least on Teyedan, Omega's copyright was protected.
Omega had sold his knowledge, and so his wealth increased. It increased in a way and at a speed he had never dreamed of.
"It went up! It went up again!" This was Omega's most frequently uttered phrase these days.
"Priest Omega, watch where you're going!"
Ah, it's the poor Magos Aedus. No wonder he's poor; he lacks humility.
"Priest Omega, snap out of it!"
Oh, it's the equally poor Magos Louis. No wonder he's poor; he lets his hobbies distract him.
"Omega, stop! That's a forge furnace ahead!"
Oh, it's the also very poo—...not poor Priestess Rhea. Relying on her father's influence... a mere forge furnace dares... Mother of Mars!
Scrambling away from the danger zone, Omega profoundly understood the terror of the phrase "dying with your money unspent."
Having earned several years' salary in just a few days, the question now burning in Omega's mind was:
Is selling study guides on a Forge World really this profitable? And who in the Omnissiah's name is buying them?