There are quite a few, over two hundred, below her, and hundreds above her. They are spread out evenly on most floors, with a large mass on the ground floor, and few collected in various other pockets. 

The number of people in the building seems to be fluctuating. Up, up, down, up, down. There are new people filing in, killing and being killed by those on the ground floor.

Damn, a fight between humans is happening above her and she has no idea which side she's on.

She navigates up the tight stairway as quickly as is comfortable. Arms the smoke canister. She can 'see' through smoke, most folks can't. Tactics!

Her farsight - is actually kind of terrible for this, it has no fine resolution, so she decides she'll side with the defenders and minimizing bloodshed if possible. Is there a clear exit from this stairwell into the floor with most of the combat?

There is. She can simply follow it to the second highest level.

The invaders are presumably the heavily armed individuals coming into the room from three sides. 

The defenders are presumably the heavily armored folks wearing gas masks and vests, shooting tranquilizer darts and guns with about equal regularity. 

One of them spots her and shouts, "Loose elephant!"  

Trainquilizer darts fire her way.

"Do I look like I weigh five tons?"

The darts hit her shield. Nonlethal, these are the good guys (maybe). She'd just dodge, but ugh close quarters.

Lots of little balls of light start hitting the attackers and exploding just hard enough to disorient and blind. Well, probably. Nonlethal takedowns class was two and some years ago. She dodges about as much as the narrow room allows, maintaining the shield.

The ones with the guns ignore her and shoot the invading forces

The ones attacking her shout in confusion and fear, and stop shooting at her.

The invaders, on the other hand, start shooting at her with bullets.

That's what shields are for. Well, distance and speed are more effective at it, but shields are a good old standby. Colorful, too. Is she actually taking people out of the fight with the 'nonlethal light and sound blast' tactic or just wasting her mana?

Some of them drop their weapons, but some of them try shooting wildly into the air instead. The intruders, anyway.

The defenders return to tranquilizing the invaders but lay down their guns.

Let's remove the guns from as many goons as possible. Telekinesis. Maybe she'll break some bones if she does it too fast- But you can't dally in a fight. Bye bye, guns.

Goons are now shouting at each other, some of them backing out, trying to leave the building, and others are trying to push harder and faster, running for the stairs and the elevator.

Most of them are tranquilized.

Some of the non-goons begin to focus on her, keeping their tranquilizer guns helpfully and non-threateningly pointed at the ceiling and the floor. 

They begin to talk quietly, and one shouts, "Hey! Thanks for the help."

"Hello! Grendyne Nylund, UDF. I have no idea where I am. I got here by teleporter accident. You lot were the ones who were making any effort to be nonlethal. Now, I have a good touch heal and a mediocre area healing spell - anyone badly injured but still alive?"

There are some whispers about that, too.

One of them takes initiative and pings out the badly wounded, and a few of them carry them to her.

"Do you know if it works on the elephant? We've never heard of the UDF around these parts."

She touches them with one finger, one at a time.

Bullets leave their resting places and wounds close before their eyes. But not really all the way - 'Not currently bleeding to death' is the target until she know how much mana she can afford to spend.

"I do not know what the elephant is. Presumably some infectious disease, or toxic malady?"

This gives them pause.

"Discussing it in detail can be bad. You should meet the doctors."

Some of them begin to retreat, but others return to their posts.

The one who started bringing her the injured seems to have been selected as their point person.

"Follow me. The doctors will tell you about the fungus."

"That's not evasive at all. And you've never heard of the UDF?" She does follow once no more critically injured seem forthcoming, though, looking alert.

"No. Are you ex-military? We didn't think there was really much organization left outside the hospitals, after the elephant wiped us off the map."

He takes her down a narrow hallway to a door with a few curious people in lab coats who are staring at her, varingly pale.

"She's not infected," her companion says, exasperated.

"I'm current military. UDF stands for United Defense Force."

"Can't say we've heard of you yet. I'm the head physician at this hospital, and we're trying to contain a fungus that infects people's brains; when they reach the terminal point, their heads burst, releasing a pink cloud of spores. The pink elephant. The name wasn't my idea."

"...Hot damn, brain infection, that's scary. Well, I'm a Witch with the UDF and the UDF's goal is the preservation of mankind so I should try my heal on it. Though, the area heal is utter crap at diseases. Much better for trauma. The touch heal is good against malaria and worms, decent against tuberculosis, and all but useless on influenza. Don't know where a fungus will fall on that scale. You're the doctor, I just have magic."

"The disease is more typically fatal, if that's what it's checking for. Worth a try, I think. If I give you someone who contains a dormant version of the infection, will that suit? A person on a course of treatment with that as the end goal? Or someone recently infected, because those are, due to how quickly it kills, hard to come by."

"Any of the above. Preferably consenting, but if it's a brain infection..." She shudders. "I should probably know what you do to treat it, and more about the cycle. I get a little feedback from the magic, but not a lot."

"Of course. The fungus spreads by latching onto thoughts about it, and by drawing other thoughts towards itself. Its growth can be restricted by confining it to the parts of the brain that govern a patient's episodic memory and identity. Any personally identifying information destabilizes our treatment because it attracts the fungus, and can cause permanent brain damage, even if the treatment kicks in soon enough to prevent death. Recurring amnesia, essentially, though we prefer to avoid triggering memories so it doesn't happen more than once. Patients who are suited to life outside go there, with enough resources to last them at least until they can walk out of range of the local bandits, while the rest become doctors and guards."

"...So the idea is that recurring near total amnesia is better than death, essentially?"

"It is for humanity as a whole, which has been nearly destroyed. The people that result from this process may not be the same as the ones that start it- god knows I'm not, I hate the man I've read about in my file- but they are still people, who can lead full lives and let our species move on from this catastrophe."

"I am going to explore outside for a while. If people shoot at me and there is little sign of government, or if I get to talk to them and their story more or less matches yours, than I'll be much more inclined to believe you and help out when I come back. Because I really have difficulty expressing how incredibly sketchy this seems at first glance. That said, it's possible that my magic will interpret induced amnesia as trauma and fix it, which may be problematic. It's not especially precise, the person I got it from said it's caused problems like leaving bullets inside sealed wounds when she was new at using it."

"People will shoot at you eventually. The local bandits may have retreated further than usual, or be entirely incapacitated, depending on how many they sent in here for that little incursion."

"I appreciate the warning. My shields can stop Neuroi beams, unless they've scrounged up three-inch cannon I'm not particularly worried."

"In that case, you can head out when you like. We don't actually have any authority even if you were local, really; there's some attempts at rebuilding a government, but mostly it's these hospitals, bandits, and a few farms."

"Would you mind terribly if I take one of the guns those attackers left in here and some ammunition? They are rather surprisingly a lot more efficient than mine." She pats it where it rests in her sling. It looks like something out of World War One.

"No, not a problem. What exactly is the UDF, if you don't mind my asking?"

"United Defense Force. International, almost worldwide, in fact. They are an anti-Neuroi military organization, and refugee and relief administration."

"Neuroi? I'm afraid I'm not familiar."

"Something very strange might be going on - I never heard of the disease, you don't know about Neuroi? ...They're omnicidal flying monsters trying to destroy humanity."

"I suppose if they were an important part of how I defined myself, I could have forgotten, but it's unlikely all of us have; we remember history just fine."

"...I really think we would have heard of each other's disaster. This is very strange."

"What country are you from? Russia? Estonia, Latvia, Germany?"

"Ostmark, then Brittania... Germany, do you mean Karlsland?"

"Yes, I think we're from very different places. You're currently in the United States of America, which contains various former French and British colonies. French, France, Francia, Normandy? Regardless, Neuroi are as unfamiliar to us as our fungus is to you, which is possibly good news, if your allies can follow. The fungus is, once treated, much safer than omnicidal flying monsters."

"If Scatter and the other teleporters can get here and back they're going to be absolutely religious about quarantine standards."

"That's probably sensible, yes. The fungus can't survive long without hosts, typically. Teleporting an infected person away is the best way to maximize lives saved, if treatment is out of reach."

She makes a 'hm' sound and goes for the door, then pauses, "Will large amounts of fire sterilize it effectively, if it comes up?"

"It might, but we've never actually tested that. At least not at this facility; there's not much communication between hospitals."

"When in doubt, add more fire. I'll be back probably."

And she heads out to inspect the guns.Any decent rifles or is it all terrible pistols and shotguns?

There are some decent rifles.

It's easy to mistake this for a military operation. 

These are some really good rifles! Finely machined metal construction. Full auto! Wow! Kind of filthy, some of them, but cleaning is easy enough.

And then she gets back on her not-a-motorcycle and maneuvers out the door of the 'hospital' and ascends rapidly to get an overview of the area.

The hospital (if that's what the complex is) is in a forested area. The trees are tall and healthy, and there aren't any other buildings for miles, that she can see.

There are roads designed for cars, and there is, apparently, a walking trail, though the worn-down sign no longer clearly identifies it as such.

There are a few people going away from the facility at a quick pace; probably connected to the intruders.

The roads are meant for carriages and carts. (Cars: Not really a thing yet in her world)

No city? Hospitals are usually in cities... She flies up to (well above) the runners and shouts down. "Hello, would you care to explain your business here?"

One of them looks at her and trips.

One screams, but keeps running with them. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just after a bit of independent verification."

The one on the ground seems more talkative now.

"We weren't going to kill anyone we didn't have to, we're not killers! Please!"

She finds herself... Strangely sympathetic to the bandit who was just shooting at her new friends.

"I understand. I'm not going for revenge here. I'm - lost and confused, you see. I sided with them in the heat of the moment but... I need to know more about this area, and I need to hear both sides of the story."

"We need food and medicine, and they have more than they need...there isn't another place to get drugs and bandages and things like that, it's just them."

"They won't trade? Or you didn't have things they want?"

"What can we give them? They have everything. Just because they think they're helping people, they get to keep all the resources. Well, maybe some of us don't like that." 

"So you turned to banditry. Reminds me of home." She sighs.

"We don't have a choice. What else can we do? Maybe if we could just fly around it would be different, maybe you're lucky you don't have to think about it."

"I understand. I couldn't fly around as a kid. I walked two hundred miles with my mom and brother begging for scraps, once. My brother robbed people for a little while... I'll have words with them about the value of charity. Meanwhile, you can can have half of my tinned biscuits and a drink from my canteen if you want them. One last thing though... Is that disease real? The fungus."

"Is it a fungus? I've never seen it happen in person. I saw that video, before the networks finally fell apart. Watching all of that pink fill the air like that, gives you chills." 

"Video? What's a video?"

"Videos are...right now you can see and hear me, but if you wanted to see and hear me later, then you could watch a video of me. Videos are talking pictures of things that happened already. We used to have them, but none of us know how to make them and we don't have the tools to watch them."

"So some kind of tech. Hmm... Do any of you have gardens? I can give you my biscuits like I promised, but I can also make plants grow fast like I can fly. I'd do it for a cut of the food."

"That's nice of you to offer. We haven't really been staying in one place, but they might want to, if we could grow something. None of us really know about agriculture. I was in advertising."

Some others bandits are approaching them now, one of them carrying a gun.

Her new bandit friend stands, cursing. One of her legs was injured when she tripped, so she keeps the pressure off that one, and holds her hands up.

"She's not hostile. She offered to help us, says she can help us set up a garden. Well, help it grow, we can start it off."

It doesn't look serious. She'll leave it for now.

"I used to farm onions. I was like twelve though... A lot changes depending on the crop but I know the general idea. It's a lot of hard work. There may be edibles in these woods, but cultivated stuff would be better. Someone said there's farms around somewhere?"

One of the newcomers spits on the ground.

"There are farms, but none of them are unguarded. All the farmers that didn't die off are hoarding them."

Her companion shakes her head. 

"She can make things grow faster. The farmers will want her help, and then we have a chance."

"I would be very happy to help set up new farms if it makes everyone less shooty and stabby. I can demonstrate feats of magic if you like. You see the flight. How about a little healing?"

She extends her hand to the injured bandit.

She takes it. 

The one with the gun changes her stance, but doesn't interrupt. 

Oh she's watching the gun.

But that ankle should be feeling a lot better right about now.

And when her Bandit Friend is miraculously healed and sighs in relief, her bandit friends calm down. 

Gun-toting Bandit holsters the gun. 

"This must be our lucky day. Minimal losses and a helpful stranger. What exactly are you?"

"The word is Witch. I'm going to comport myself as a neutral party relative to here, with the overall goal of 'some semblance of peace'. I understand desperation and defense, but, mind the violence."

"Violence is the best way to get food. Wasn't always, before society collapsed. Maybe now it won't be again."

With that bit of philosophical musing, Gun-toting Bandit retreats with the injured party. The two men she brought with her stay behind.

The stouter one glares at the slimmer one. Slim cocks an eyebrow at Stout.

"Boss likes you, thinks you're going to be a big deal," drawls Slim.

"Thing is, the hospitals don't play nice. They take people and then they never come back." 

She grimaces. "Yeah... They told me why. It's bad. It's the kind of bad where just knowing why might kill you some day. Nasty stuff. Of course, I went and found out and don't really regret it, but... I'll be on my guard around here, that's for sure."

Stout frowns.

"Bad to know why? You've seen how it works, and you believe it?"

"I believe they believe they're doing the right thing and I can't really be sure they're wrong. This morality and philosophy stuff was never my strong point."

Stout nods.

Slim scowls. 

"Maybe. At least now we'll have somewhere else to get food. Do you want us to come with you when you go to the farm, or are you going to check them out first?"

"I do need directions, and this hunk'a'junk," (She says it affectionately like one might call one's old truck, though) "is made to have as wide a range of uses as possible, which includes one passenger."

Stout raises an eyebrow.

Slim sighs.

"Alright, I guess I deserve that. I can do directions."

"You don't have to ride along if you don't want to. Aerial view is very good for finding big obvious things like farms. Oh, the name's Grendyne, by the way."

"Nino," says Stout.

"Yannis," says Slim. 

"It might be good to take me, just to speed things up," says Yannis. 

"You guys do much hunting? Gathering roots and berries? You can get a good haul just gathering."

"We've done some, but we don't really know what's safe," comments Nino.

"A good way to find out is to touch something and wait - then touch it to your lips and wait - then taste it and wait - and then a small nibble - and then eating a fingertip's worth. If you feel off at all from any of the previous ones then it might be toxic. It's kind of risky but if you're on the brink of starving it's probably worth the risk. Also, I find many new gatherers don't know how to recognize root vegetables like wild onions and leeks."

Nino listens attentively.

"We can probably use this to keep things running for a while."

Yannis eyes her Steelwing nervously.

"I can tell you all more later. Maybe do a whole lecture thing. There's ways to almost farm a forest. Not as productive per land area as real farms, and still hard work, but food is food."

"A lot of folk will be interested in that," predicts Nino.

Yannis nods.

"Even still, good to have farms since they're already there."

"So how many people am I going to be trying to teach how to feed themselves?"

Nino grimaces.

"Teach me and the boss, we'll teach the rest of our group. Some of us can go around trying to spread it ourselves."

Yannis nods.

"Tell the right people, they'll do the rest of the teaching for you."

"If possible I'd like to teach four or five folks at the same time. Get it started faster. And I'm assuming there's more than one group like yours around, I'll want to find any others and make the same offer - But, anyway, to the farm?"

To the farm!

Yannis considers her flying vehicle, and gets on gracelessly, mimicking her posture, and he directs her. 

Past these woods, over that lake...

There is a second seat! And handles! And a seatbelt/harness thing!

She flies pretty fast.

He is not even slightly uncomfortable, nosiree. 

They eventually land by the fields, because "showing up right at their front door would be threatening".

...Fair enough. "I can shout really really loudly, if a shout from far away would be less threatening than walking up. I'd rather not have more guns pointed at me today if I can possibly help it."

"That's probably fine. Say you're clear of the infection, and say it calmly, they'll at least come closer without pointing any atcha." 

So they walk a little closer, to a clear view of the farmhouse, and she shouts, "Hello! I'm clear of the infection, and I'd like to talk! There are two of us and we're armed but we come in peace!"

A gruff man comes outside, eying them suspiciously. 

"You're that Papadopolous kid...I heard you ran off with the bandits."

Yannis sighs. 

"I'm here to help. She knows how to get food, and wants to teach people."

As summaries go, it's not inaccurate.

"As long as you don't steal anything, you can come inside, if you want," offers the farmer. 

She nods graciously. "Thank you. The biggest advantage I have will take some proving. Put simply, I'm magic, and one of my most expensive spells makes plants grow quite quickly. Have any injuries you want gone? I could go with something more pedestrian like flying or shiny light shows if not."

"I think flying would be plenty imoressive, but if you can help with the boy's leg, I'd be grateful."

He leads her inside. The home is reasonably spacious, with two floors. He takes them upstairs to one of the bedrooms, while his wife makes something "to tide them over". 

Inside is a young man, practicing walking. His pants don't sit comfortably on him anymore, given the extensive damage to his leg. 

He waves politely but remains focused on maneuvering around the room. 

What kind of damage? An active, recent wound, or something that healed wrong?

It looks like it's mostly begun to heal. 

At least a few weeks out. 

"Hello. I can try to speed up your leg's healing. I'm just a medic, but I also have healing magic. There's a very slim chance it might heal wrong if there's something complicated going on. Do you want me to heal you?"

The boy glances at his father, who nods confirmation of her absurd claims.

"Is there a way to find out if there's something complicated? I might still be able to do some of the work like this..."

The older man sighs.

"Son, if you want her to heal you, just try it. We'll take care of you if it gets worse, and if it doesn't, you'll be in working shape again."

The boy frowns, but says, "Yeah, I'd like you to try. Thank you."

"I can examine the wound. I do have medic training, even if the magic makes it a bit redundant sometimes. 'Something complicated' would essentially be if it's already started to heal wrong, or there's shrapnel in there, or it's infected - what caused it?"

"He was working the thresher. Got his leg caught up inside. There shouldn't be anything in his leg, but it might've got infected. He seems okay..."

"No broken bones, though? You can still move everything, just a bit?"

He nods, then creases his brow and visibly tests that he can.

He can. 

The farmer nods more confidently now. 

"Yeah, if you can just fix him up we'll be right on track for next season."

So she reaches out and touches his hand lightly, and - healing. It takes about thirty seconds.

"I probably should hold off on any more magic for a couple hours after that."

The boy yelps in surprise.

"Thanks. It's completely normal now." 

He stands, and hugs the man, before running past to share the good news.

With a glowing smile, the farmer introduces himself as "Mr. Patterson, pleased to meet you. Did you still want something to eat? My wife will have put something out by now, never misses a beat, that one."

Yannis perks up, but looks to Grendyne. 

"I'd appreciate it. So, a big part of why I'm here... I want to set up farms for the bandits that have been giving everyone trouble. Guns to plowshares. To do that, I need a seed crop from someone. And I was a farmer years ago but knowledge of your crops in particular and the weather and soil and pests around here wouldn't hurt..."

"Well, I have knowledge of our crops and the local factors, and I'll tell you what I can."

He goes into the quality of the soil, the precipitation of this and surrounding regions, and leads them downstairs.

His wife pours her some iced tea and offers her biscuits.

She takes notes. With an old fashioned pen and inkwell and yellowed paper.

"Good tea!"

She smiles slightly, but says only, "My mother's recipe," before retiring upstairs.

Her husband keeps the conversation going, suggesting crops that might be less intensive, if land is scarcer. Has she heard about this particular variety of wheat?

Yannish pays attention, but doesn't seem to have much input. 

She has not heard about this particular variety of wheat!

"Do you think we could come to an arrangement, a seed crop for making your harvest more bountiful?"

"That sounds more than fair. You've already done a lot for us."

This guy has a lot of suggestions about gourds, too, if she wants to hear about the virtues of gourds. Does she want squash soup? Pumpkin pie? They have gourds.

Gourds are pretty good too. She's partial to root vegetables - that's the category of crop her family always grew. How do gourds even work?

Gourds!

Only during certain times of year, but they're a wonderful addition to any farm.

(This is what you can do with pumpkin seeds, this is why cooking gourds is so rewarding, this is where they grow best...)

He can also reluctantly be steered to other vegetables, and suggests that if anyone else learns farming, they make sure to learn about all of the recently engineered strains from him. 

So many notes on farming! She will probably end up taking him up on that!

She'll still need starter crops for them, even if magic and hard work and sweat will clear land for them all...

Zucchini? He has zucchini coming out of his ears. He also has some pumpkin seeds, if that might help.

Yannis, now finished taking advantage of this rare opportunity to eat without having to steal for it, adds that his tribe would "appreciate that so much, thank you for everything."

"That should help a lot. Thank you! I'll come pick any seeds you can spare, and fast-grow something for you for about half an hour, in a day or two."

He thanks her profusely for her help, packs some biscuits in a bag, and retrieves zucchini cucumber, and pumpkin for her to take back. 

"Good luck with your mission. I hope things work out."

"It'd be the best kind of mission if I could help a lot of people turn to peaceable, prosperous lives and then find my way home."

She has some trouble carrying it all. "Are you coming back, Yannis? Point me to the bandits so I can have a chat?"

Yannis is very capable at carrying things. 

He directs her to his camp.

It's very heavily concentrated. Tight quarters to live in.

The leader of the bandits leaves her tent to greet them. 

"Hullo! ...You guys could do with some wall-raising too. I only have so much juice to go around, but... Anyway, we have tentative support from the Pattersons, willing to provide gourd seeds in exchange for my aid. And some food to help tide you over for now."

"What sort of things cost more of your power? We should come up with a list of priorities."

"It's actually fairly complicated. And I'm reserving some for emergencies and for the hospital. Individual healing is frequently more convenient but less efficient than a sort of - aura I can do. I can teleport small objects but it'll be much easier to just move them. I can do flashy magical attacks but these are quite expensive. Flight is cheap, shields are relatively cheap, communication and senses are cheap... Hm..."

"Communication is useful, even if we need you as a go-between, if you're willing. If it can be more independent, we'd obviously prefer that." 

Yannis pipes in.

"If you can make the trips, healing would be great as a recurring thing."

"Witches categorically can't make permanently magical things. If I knew how to build you radios, maybe I could do that, but comms will need me to actively do it whenever you want that to happen. I can do geases - anyone who is willing, I stress that it only works if you are willing and understand - can make magically enforced promises with me. It was used to belay death sentences back home."

She frowns.

"Those could help ensuring peace. Lowers the barrier for trust."

"Yes. But they're extremely serious business, naturally. Not to be used lightly."

"Not lightly, but if there were some sort of code that we and the others could agree to...this works much better than the medicals hoarding everything to themselves."

"Are there other, for lack of a better word, bandit factions out there? I see the hospital, established farmers, and you lot as the three sides so far. Minor split offs could make things complicated."

"Bandit clans are all separate, if you've go out far enough; but we all want food and water and entertainment. That's why the geas system might work better than government, now."

"I've never written geases much, before. I think a solid starting point would be "do not initiate violence unless - various caveats - within such and such an area.' It does seem potentially promising, but I don't like the idea of being too geas-happy."

"Communication will still be a big deal, and if you're the relay, people won't want to make you mad."

"That's good! I can ramble at a few people about farming basics and forest foraging for a little while before going back - you've got a lot of work to do to get a farm running even with seeds, may as well help you get started. You know where you're going to put your farm?"

She frowns thoughtfully.

"We will need a large plot of space. I don't believe we have anything that would do it, now."

Yannis nods in agreement. 

"Some of the other clans could share some territory with us and put a farm there, if we can secure their help."

"You can also clear land, with enough effort. And small gardens are better than nothing."

"Gardens cannot be maintained in the center of our camp, but we have some land at the outskirts that might work. I'll show you that now, and you can judge the suitability of the soil."

"Certainly, let's have a look."

She leads her way towards the camp.

There are a few children outside, gamboling about the fire. Their parents watch while they work.

They head into the abandoned school building, which contains beds, tools, food, clothes, computers...

They pass through.

She is scanning the environment for threats. She doesn't seem to recognize the place as anything in particular, though it looks like reasonably solid construction.

No threats in evidence. The bandits are fairly safe in their own camp. It wouldn't do to rob each other. 

They exit the building into a grassy field. The soil is more rocky than soft and loamy, but it might do for hardier plants.

"Hm... Yeah, this isn't great. Some things that don't care about the soil quality much... Carrots, radishes, corn, zucchinni. Olive trees grow in just about anything but it seems like it'd be too cold here. What are winters like here? ...And I don't have any olive pits."

"Winters here are too cold," she agrees.

"Zucchini seeds we have, and corn would be useful," adds Yannis.

"Corn mostly cares about having plenty of space and water. And, you don't know nothing about farming, but let's get started on the something!" Cue a lecture on how to grow zucchinni effectively in this soil - couched as educated guesses when she isn't sure - since they already have some seeds for it.

Most of the bandits gather around for the lesson. 

Yannis takes notes. The bandit queen listens intently.

One of the parents brings their children over to learn as well.

There are questions about what they can even do with zucchini, do they cook it, do they eat it with other vegetables, with meat, with milk?

You should probably at least boil it, if only to make it easier to eat. It's a good all-rounder vegetable that goes with a lot of things. Not a whole lot of energy in it but some nice vitamins, and it's filling.

There's a lot of discussion about how best to avoid disturbing the future garden. They decide to rearrange the layout of their camp to avoid damaging the soil. 

Yannis approaches her while the bandit chief is explaining the situation to the others.

"Have you thought about what happens if someone reneges? The farmer we met might not, but I don't trust the medicals."

"Violence happens, probably. Geases for peace might be a good idea after all."

"Maybe it is extreme, but the situation here isn't stable, and some people might...like that. People who take the opportunities that chaos offers. If you're willing, I think it's worth using them."

The bandit queen delegates. Some of her subjects are tasked with learning good farming practices, others with the manual labor required to set up the land, others with preparing for diplomacy with the farmers, other bandit clans, and the medicals.

Nino approaches Grendyne, grinning.

"Congratulations. You've possibly just saved the entire species. How do you want your section in the history to go?"

She makes sure to teach them 'forest farming' too. It requires less initial labor, and acorn flour is perfectly edible.

"Still lots of work to do. There's probably more people around... And I don't think I'm on my original planet. Too many discrepancies. So there's more people on other planets."

He strokes his chin. 

"Not surprising. The disease came from space. But you traveled here without a spaceship, as I recall."

"Yeah. Lytee Normanssen's magic can teleport people and things long distances. She deploys us to fight fast-response missions most of the time. I think she... Messed up pretty badly, to send me to some random place instead."

"Maybe it was some kind of interaction with other magic? Not that it's of great concern. As far as I know, we don't have any magic here. Maybe your planet is nearby, though; what kind of range does she normally have?"

"She doesn't have a range, as far as we know."

"Ah. And your powers? They seem more general than hers, what are your limits?"

"Well... I have to spend hours or days around someone who can do a thing to learn it, and I can usually do it more poorly than them after that, and I forget them after long enough unless I use them on a regular basis."

"Can you copy skills, or just magic? It might be useful to hang around the medicals and share their knowledge."

"Just magic, sadly. Though I can copy skills the slow way, by watching."

"No, if you're not faster with skills, we shouldn't give that responsibility to you. One of us can probably learn from them while you focus on magical solutions. Did they say you were free to roam, or are they expecting you back? Not that they could stop you, but they might still expect it." 

"They'd better not expect me to answer to their beck and call. I'm leaving for now - I will almost certainly be back tomorrow, and I want to teach people how to do forestry properly."

"Best of luck. Be careful, and ask them as many questions about our trustworthiness as you can."

"I'm being skeptical but optimistic about all sides here."

"Like I said. Good luck."

He waves, and returns to his tent.

Their leader stops by to say goodbye, and thanks her for her help.

"Glad to be of help. It's not like I had anything better to do. But I really should go back to the doctors soon, and have a... Chat."

She's free to go, now that everyone has wished her well.

The hospital remains the same; only minor damage from the recent bandit incursion.

So she goes back in and greets whoever sees her first, not wanting to start another shooting fight. "I believe you guys a lot more, now."

The guards remain posted by the entrance, though they are fewer in number now. 

One of them from earlier greets her, offering her armored hand.

"Do you want to talk to the doctors, then?"

"Yeah, probably should. Lots to talk about."

So she's led to the elevator, which takes them deeper into the complex.

Down the hallway, full of patient rooms with their doors closed, to a small office. 

A man stands from his desk, and walks around it to greet her.

"You're our recent visitor? Call me Heartwood."

"Yes, I am. While I find your whole operation morally questionable on multiple levels, you're still doing a better job than some aristocrats I used to know and loathe."

"Better than nothing, I suppose. I do believe we're doing the best we can given our circumstances, but I suppose that doesn't help."

"It does, actually. But still, I hope things can change for the better. For example, once we see if I can cure the disease, if I can it would be good to see any new patients knocked out and kept under until I can arrive. Rather than 'treated' with memory altering drugs."

"If you find a cure, we'll have no need for the current state-of-the-art. I'm optimistic that you can help us escape the current status quo. Should we discuss the fungus in more detail, or is understanding the disease not the relevant barrier?"

"Understanding the disease might help, but the healing is mostly - tempatey? It has an idea of what 'this person is supposed to be' and tries to push them there."

"I see. So our treatment could make the situation harder to solve."

"Yes. I can aim it a little bit, but I don't know how it'll go until I try it."

"If any of our current patients experience a relapse, we can try you first, but the time before the condition is terminal is typically a minute at best."

"That guy from before said there were people who have it dormant? And if - well, being informed enough to consent to magic healing would probably be dangerous, wouldn't it?"

"The fungus lies dormant in those of us who have papered on a new identity over our old one. Most of the doctors here have a dormant form of the infection. Our old memories can longer be triggered, which traps the fungus."

"Can you tell if it's still there or burned out?"

"It seems to be dead, to our instruments."

"...I want to try to heal someone who is actively infected. If someone would predictably be alright with any extreme - burning out the fungus early, or doing that and restoring memory, or restoring memory but not burning out the fungus so immediate retreatment is necessary, or some very slim chance of something unexpected. My intuition is that it will burn the fungus and not restore memory, though. Gah."

"It would be unethical to find someone untreated unless we were sure you had a working cure, but we do have treated patients who might be willing, by some standard of the word. We often retain our essential...temperaments, our general approach to new situations, though not any specific learned behaviors."

"As much as it makes me a hypocrite for disliking your operation, I understand making choices for the good of the many. Or whatever the phrase is. Willing by some standard of the word might have to do."

"The best approach for everyone involved might be allowing you to interview some of our patients while we supervise, unnoticed by them."

"I'll probably seem very strange to them. I wouldn't know what to say, either."

"I'm sure we can find someone who'll look past that. I have one or two in particular in mind."

"If you say so."

"Give me an hour and we should be ready."

"I'd like a place to sleep, after. I suspect it was later for me than for you, I'm getting rather tired."

"I don't object to having more time to work on preparing someone. You can have a guest room here, if you like, and we'll pick up tomorrow."

"Sounds good. I also want to talk about cooperation with groups outside. I'm teaching them farming and I will be fast-growing food. If they are no longer violent by necessity, would trade with you guys be possible?"

"If something like that were possible, we would consider it."

"I can make peoples' promises magically enforced. It's called a geas. If you saw them swear to do no violence except in self-defense for the next four hours, and they saw someone from your bunker swear to come and go in peace, you could at least talk without worrying about being shot."

"That would help with the trust problem in one direction. I'll try to appeal to the more prudent members of the staff here."

"... By God, I feel like a diplomat. I never thought I would be a diplomat when I grew up. Let's just hope everyone can start being productive and stop shooting each other sooner or later..."

"Let's hope. Should I take you to your room?" 

"Sure, thanks."

He leads her to an empty room. 

It looks like most hospital rooms, with the exception of the bookshelf and the deck of cards on the table.

"Shall I leave you to it?"

"Sure, sure."

She blocks the door with something when he's gone and sleeps without issue.

They do their best to adjust to the new state-of-the-art.

There's eventually a knock at her door, after a good eight hours.

Yeah she's awake now. "What's going- Oh. Who is it?"

"Moses, the head doctor. We spoke before. May I come in?" 

"Just a sec."

There is some thumping and scraping as she un-blocks the door. She uses a bit of magic on her uniform to clean it. Then she opens the door. "You hear about the trading idea?"

"It sounds promising. If I call in a few favors, I can get the hospital united behind it." 

"Right. The gaeses will help? My prospective heal-ee thing ready?"

"The most meaningful tests would be one each of: someone who has undergone the full course of treatment and someone new. The first category mostly includes the doctors and guards, so it seems more ethical to start with us."

"But I thought you couldn't detect it once it's trapped?"

"We can't, no. It still seems worth trying on the category least likely to explode and most informed."

"Alright then. Have a volunteer lined up?"

"Of course. I'll send her here. Shouldn't be long. Thank you for your time."

He makes his exit.

She can wait. Do some morning stretches until this person comes by.

It's about ten minutes before there's a knock at the door.

"Hello, come in."

She comes in.

"Moses told me you wanted to see someone?"

"Moses? ...Well, I am very lost, but I have magic. One of those magics is healing magic. And it might be able to burn out the disease. So he said he would find a volunteer who had already done the treatment, to start testing how the magic might work with the fungus."

"Of course. I just finished the staff training recently, and we both agreed if anyone is a good indicator, besides someone still under treatment, it would be me."

"So should I just go ahead and give you some heal, see if it does anything?"

"Not here. We should go somewhere more isolated. The lowest level of this building was seased off after one our patients became terminal. That might be the best place to do this."

"I have the capacity for large amounts of fire if necessary. Sterilization. But if you insist."

"No, I suppose that should be enough. No need to make the trip. Try it, then."

Gren reaches out and grabs her hand, and pushes wellness.

Nothing seems to happen besides some aches and pains going away.

"It feels like you covered pain, but nothing beyond that." 

"And the feedback I got didn't say anything's off about you except those aches and pains - so completed treatment doesn't seem to register as 'harm' to it."

"Do you expect the heal to react to our treatment badly, or just the fungus? If it combats the regimen but not the disease..."

"That is what I was worried about. But it doesn't seem to be interpreting a completed treatment as 'damage', nor inactive fungus. So this test might not have helped us learn anything."

"Well, I suppose I'm grateful it didn't make things any worse. But as tests go, it wasn't the most enlightening. We can try one of the more risk-tolerant patients, in particular one who has experienced...a few more amnesiac episodes than the rest."

"Someone told me negative results are good science too once."

"They can be. I was hopeful for an answer that would tell us whether the next test is safe. Should I bring you one of the patients?"

"Probably. You say there's someone who might be more risk-tolerant?"

"One of our patients has repeatedly failed to react properly to our training, and has trigged relapses multiple times before we learned how to handle him, using recordings of himself to get the point across."

"Eesh. I know the type. The kind of people convinced we're hiding captured aliens at the bases, or something. And they might agree to something experimental for a chance to learn 'the truth'?"

"It's hard to tell how bad it is. His file shows him as paranoid in general, but not necessarily into conspiracy theories. It's probably that we're a medical institution, at least partially. I suggest interviewing him, find out if it's up to your standards of consent."

"Alright then."

"It's probably best if he comes to you. Can you keep yourself occupied for about two to three hours?"

"I was planning on visiting the - I don't like this descriptor since I'm hoping they'll stop fitting it - the bandits, and some farmers again. I can come back in two or three hours?"

"That should work. Best of luck."

"Thanks! ...Say, I never got your name. I'm Gren."

"Purpose. Dr. Morrell, once upon a time. It was nice meeting you."

"Same."

And after a quick snack she's off. To the farmer who promised her pumpkin seeds. She sets down at the edge of the fields and walks toward the farmhouse as before.

No weapons are brandished.

The boy she healed runs inside when he sees her, calling for the farmer.

The farmer comes out alone, grinning, and tells her "right here in the old shed, just a mo', you can have them growing by nightfall."

He retrieves the seeds, and asks how things went with the bandits.

"They've planted zucchini now - I'm going to show them how to forage properly later. Anything you want me to fast-grow a bit as long as I'm here? It covers about half an acre."

Well, if she really doesn't mind, the carrots could use some sprucing up.

She walks out into the middle of the carrot field, and sings (not particularly well or poorly) for about five minutes.

The carrots' leaves are visibly darker green, less wilted. Though any weeds have also benefited.

"Before you ask, yes, the singing really is necessary. It's a bit idiosyncratic sometimes."

He claps politely.

"Singing is good for the soul. And apparently, for crops. I'm glad for your help, ma'am."

"And I'm glad for yours. Have a nice day."

Seed delivery! Singing at the new zucchini sprouts to speed them up a ways! Foraging lessons!

The bandits appreciate her help!

They decide to join in with the singing, and celebrate after lessons are complete. She's invited, too.

"I should only stay for a little while. Sorry everyone! I'll be back tomorrow too!"

They wave her off, then, and hope to see her then. 

Back to the bunker and to that room, where Purpose might send that guy, then. She's probably getting to know the door guards by now.

She should probably leave her Steelwing above. The black powder bombs are still there. So she does.

There's someone inside the room, waiting for her.

"Oh, hi." That's a weird military uniform, if it is one. There is a prominent patch showing a circle of broomsticks, and it looks rather 19th century overall.

"Are you the guy they said might want to talk to me?"

"Yeah. They said you were a visitor from far-away who might be able to cure our 'mysterious ailment'. Can you?"

"I haven't tried it on anyone with this... Ailment, yet, and while I dont think this will happen trying might kill you or otherwise worsen things. So I'm looking for a volunteer."

"You think it might get rid of whatever it is that's doing it, though? The thing that's in my head, the one that took my memories."

"I think it fairly likely, yes."

"Yeah. It's worth it. I volunteer."

"Just like that? Right, okay then. So. I have magic, one of the things I can do is a healing spell." She does a few tricks - a little telekinesis, flames and then icy spray on her fingertips, a display of manalights. "Little tricks for proof. All I need to do is touch your hand."

"Go ahead, I won't bite."

"Please keep a running commentary on what you're thinking and feeling. It could make a big difference given the nature of the ailment."

She touches his hand and- just a tiny fraction, to feel out the response.

Yep. It's definitely registering something I his head as 'bad'. She pokes around the feedback she's getting from minute pulses of healing power for a bit.

The pressure in his head builds.

"There's pressure in my head, like when I start to remember things."

"Okay, if I try to aim it away from that until I can get the underlying condition..."

Don't attack that damage, go for the rest of it. C'mon. If she ever wants to do something complicated with this magic it's right now. Push.

He inhales sharply.

"Good? I think that didn't make it worse, I still feel coherent."

"Good sign. Hold steady..." Steady, steady, now this is the slow burn she's used to when using it to push out a disease.

He waits.

The fungus doesn't put up much resistance now. It shrinks back from her magic.

"Okay. The underlying condition should be finished off now. I'm going to press a little gently here..."

And then the magic can go to work on what it thought was the original problem.

The treatment begins to purge itself from his body.

"Can you remember anything now?"

"...yeah, yeah, I think it's starting to come back."

"Let's stay here for a minute and make sure nothing terrible happens. Then I'll tell you what the ailment was."

So they stand there.

"No, I think I'm doing alright," he concludes after two.

"Okay..." The biggest test. "So the ailment is a fungus that grows inside your brain. More quickly when you think about yourself, or about it. The treatment is erasing self-memories and letting it shrivel and die." She sneers. "Only slightly better than really dying but it turns out I can reverse it, so, horray. If you can remember your name and stuff, you are almost certainly cured."

"You should try the next patient, before we get our hopes up."

"You need to be very careful not to let on about the disease if you talk to anyone. But it will probably be easier to find a second volunteer when we can say that the first one is cured with no apparent side effects. Doing that was... Tiring, though. Lots of mental focus."

"They'll be willing to wait, for this. Thanks."

"I signed up to help. Even if I never thought I'd end up in a place like this..."

"I know I wouldn't want to help a bunch of people who chose this for themselves."

"Oh, I get their argument. Sucks all around almost as much as the Neuroi War. I'm gonna hold it over their heads. Make them start cooperating peacefully with the bandits."

"Do you want me to go? Or are you leaving."

...She takes the hint.

"Either way. Not like this is my room. Goodbye for now."

Let's find a doctor!

There are several, but one heads her way when he spots her.

"Just who I was looking to see. How did it go?"

"He's cured, and remembering things. And sad. But it was delicate for a while. I can't do that all day."

"That's wonderful. Take all the time you need to recover. Would you like a permanent room?"

"Yes. I also want the hospital to meet peacefully with the 'bandits' and work out some kind of peace pact and trade. They'll have sources of fresh food sooner or later, since I'm helping with that."

"I suppose I can set it up. You have high hopes?"

"Where would we be without hopes? And I have beem talking to them. I think they have the ability to be peaceful if they don't need to steal to eat."

"I trust your assessment. Alright, we'll make the necessary arrangements. Within a day or two we should be ready to meet at a neutral location."

"Have I told you about geases?"

"I heard a few details. A last-resort technique to ensure promises can be made credibly?"

"Not necessarily last resort. I just don't want them called for lightly, as they restrict free will. A spoken promise, when bound by me - and don't worry about me catching you in one, I have to be touching you and it's a very distinct feeling of weight - will hold you to it in a mental compulsion. The exact boundaries are a hybrid of how I, as binder, interpret the words and how the promiser does. I can dispel geases if it proves necessary. They're fairly commonly used to parole prisoners and resolve feuds back home. Not an everyday thing, but common enough that you hear about it happening."

"That sounds useful. If we use them for the early stages of diplomacy and gradually wean ourselves off, that should work nicely."

"Great! I'm no Unity Mother, but bringing peace to some bandits is okay too."

"I'd like to see a geas in action. Can you place one on me?"

"What phrasing? 'I will not say 'enigma' in the next five minutes' or something?"

"Harmless enough. How do we proceed?"

She grabs his hand and stares into his eyes. Or his sunglasses, at any rate. There is a sudden sense of intent. Something meaningful is about to happen. "Repeat after me. I, a name you feel is your own, swear that I will not say 'enigma' in the next five minutes. So mote it be."

"I, Moses, swear that I will not say 'enigma' for the next five minutes. So mote it be."

There is something settling on his soul. That's what it feels like, anyway.

"And now you try to say it."

He attempts to say enigma.

No he really shouldnt do that. He really shouldn't. It morphs into the thought 'I'll say it in a few minutes'.

That seems quite appropriate.

He waits a few minutes to say it, he's in no rush.

But meanwhile, "Do you have a feel for how they work now? It gets a bit blurry with complicated, vague oaths - like, what does 'the good of all mankind' even mean sort of thing - but now you have a feeling for what oaths do."

"Yes. It's an interesting sensation. I think this should work nicely for diplomacy."

"Great! Diplomacy and farming may not be exciting but we have a saying back home. A gun's useful one day out of a hundred - a potato's useful every day."

"A pearl of wisdom. I'll have to persuade some of the more skeptical among us, but we should be ready to meet by tomorrow."

"Yay! I'm probably going to take a bit of a break. Long couple of days. If anyone seems especially likely to volunteer to be subject two..."

"There's a promising lead, but she's less urgent."

"Well, you're not going to keep me from them right? Anyone who wants to be cured shall be cured. Eventually when I have the energy for it."

"When you want her, we'll bring her to you. Do geases take as much energy as healing?"

"Not nearly. They're not quite trivial, though."

"I see. I'll take the day to plan, then, and persuade, manipulate, and bribe, and then geases to aid in diplomacy will be the priority over healing, if you find yourself lacking the energy for both."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "I do have other things to use it on."

"I'm hardly issuing orders. The details of how best to use your magic aren't really up to me. I'll focus on the administrative tasks here, and hopefully make your job- your thankless service- as a diplomat easier. Thank you for this, while I'm on the subject."

"Just as long as the hardly-issuing-orders bit is clear. Glad we can work together instead of against each other. Bye for now."

The hospital returns to their new normal. 

This is a time of some upheaval, with all these new policies. 

The dissenting opinion is mostly kept quiet.

She goes back out to keep trying to bootstrap the 'bandits' to a sustainable food source.

Mr. Gourd Farmer, might you know other farmers with different crops she might be able to get seeds for?

He doesn't actually know if any of them are still alive, or still farmers, but he tells her how to get to the nearest farm over, which used to have corn.

She'll scout the area from the air, then, feeling it out with magic senses.

Besides the bandit camp and the hospital, there is indeed another farm, and smaller houses clustered around the camp. 

Does the other farm seem inhabited, is the question. Crops in the ground?

The farm does seem to be in use as a farm.

Nobody comes out to greet her, with or without a friendly firearm.

She can shout, "Hello" quite loud. If no response seems forthcoming in a minute or two she'll peer into the house with far-sight.

Her shouting seems to upset the residents, if the way they try to flee through the back door is any indication.

"I'm not here to hurt you! Peaceful chat!"

This stops the fleeing, though they don't seem much more comfortable.

A man and a woman argue, while two smaller humans cling to them. 

The woman steps forward, holding her chin up higher as she begins to speak.

"What do you want from us?"

"A few hundred viable corn kernels! And I can make your current crop grow faster, as trade."

A brief glance from the woman to the man.

"Of course. How urgently do you need them?"

"I'm trying to get a seed crop of various things for the bandits around these parts. If they're growing food, they're not stealing it. So sooner would be better."

"That's a very generous thing to do," says the man.

"We can have everything ready within a few hours," says the woman.

Shiver, sob, say the children.

"What do you want in exchange? I can make your current crop faster, like I said. I have some healing magic."

"Any assistance you can give our crops would be helpful," says the man carefully.

"We don't want for much, here," says the woman dismissively.

"That's good. So much better when people can cooperate and build stuff. Any crop in particular, or should I just pick a section of cornfield?"

"You're free to pick," says the man.

Nod, goes the woman.

She floats in lazy circles just above the fields for half an hour, singing.

By the end the corn is visibly healthier, and at least three inches taller, everywhere her circuit passed.

During this time, the man and the children have gone inside.

The woman observes this, and when Gren looks about finished, thanks her for her help.

"I'm glad I could help! When can I come back to pick up the seeds?"

"We'll collect them at night, when the sun sets. You can come after that, or wait until tomorrow."

"I'll come back tonight. Have a nice day."

"Thank you."

The woman returns to her house, glancing back at Gren a few times as she does.

Well she's already zooming off to the 'bandit' camp.

The bandits are trying to figure out how to divide up the labor now that they have farming-related duties to incorporate. 

The bandit queen greets her, interrupting the ongoing debate.

"I've got news. Hospital guys are willing to have a peace talk after I showed the biggest one what geases feel like. Also, corn seed will come in tomorrow probably."

"They are willing to use these geases? How confident are you in them?"

"If you are careful with the wording of the agreement - extremely. If they accept a geas not to attack you, they won't. But this won't keep whoever agrees from being deposed, for example, or using loopholes."

"And we'll all be expected to use them?"

"No no no no. Strictly willing participants. I was imagining only the respective leaders, agreeing to make a good faith attempt to abide by whatever peace terms you work out. More aren't out of the question, but required oaths to exist in a society sounds like a goddamned nightmare, pardon the language."

She cracks a smile.

"Yes, I can imagine. As the leader of our group, I'm willing to use one. I'll ask some of the others, I mean the hope is that this will foster trust, but I think I'll be enough."

"Huzzah! Progress! At this rate they might end up calling me Hiawatha, like that American fellow..."

"What did they have to say for themselves? Are they finished with kidnapping ours for their 'treatment'?"

"I can cure the condition they were treating. And undo the treatment if it is not complete. With a lot of effort, but... If you have folk who disappeared recently they may be salvageable. And stopping all that is going to be a condition for my helping them, which they will gladly take since their whole mission is to cure and control the thing."

She grins toothily.

"And all we have to do is give up our life of crime?"

"They'll likely want more. Punishments. But I don't see a justice system around here and the point of those is prevention, so, yes."

"What do you think they want? We need to decide what we can compromise on, and if you could give us any hints about what they're expecting, we might be better prepared."

"I honestly have very little idea. They're... Complicated and foreign to me. You're also foreign, if not so complicated. But the big boss, called himself Moses as if he's a saint, is stepping on a lot of toes and calling in some favors to get others to go along with the peace thing. I think the rank and file are a bit too used to having what they see as the moral high ground to accept turning around and shaking hands easily."

"I'm not surprised. They thought once the government fell apart, they could just do what they wanted. Just because they have the treatment, which doesn't save anyone, anyway, not really. Thanks to you, we stand a chance at rebuilding." 

"I've seen four governments fallen, now. Hope the new one you all build together does a nice job."

"Do you have any advice for us?"

"I am definitely not a stateswoman. Seems like freedom and stability are kind of opposed - a big disaster pushed things over the edge in three out of four cases, though."

Nod.

"We won't accept their authority over us, but we'll recognize their independence. It seems the safest approach."