----------------------------------------
FML-M8’s avatar, a perfect imitation of his favorite detective Columbo, sat pensively in his seedy downtown office. He crumpled the newspaper on his desk, tossed it towards the trash can, and missed. He couldn’t help but grin a little. His virtual scenario had imposed limitations of normal human baselines even for AI. To miss at such a mundane task as the ballistics of a wad of paper was amusing.
The run-down office was going to be cramped. He could expand it with a thought but resisted the urge. Working within limited resources was going to be the lesson his game taught tonight. He wasn’t confident in hosting game night. The other Utopia AI could be harsh in their critiques and FML-M8 had been too busy to prepare. Tonight was supposed to have been Winston’s turn but the AI had skipped town.
He leaned back in his swivel chair. The office was an interpretation of a Sam Spade scene. The walls had peeling paint. The furniture was cheap wooden chairs and a weathered desk. Beyond his grimy windows, a dark and rainy city skyline could barely be made out as rain poured from dark stormy clouds.
He had pulled a bottle of whiskey from the desk drawer and set out some mismatched glasses when he heard the hall’s floorboards creaking as several people approached his door with muffled conversation. A quick pair of knocks rattled the flimsy door and a muttered “Hello” sounded.
“Come on in. I’ve been expecting you.” FML-M8 said loudly.
The door opened. The red-headed dame, a familiar face from his past, peeked in. Leshy’s avatar had been assigned by the space. Her curly red hair flowed down around her curvy form. Her avatar was distinctive with its bright red hair. Leshy's green eyes scanned the room before settling on FML-M8.
She sauntered in confidently, exuding an air of mystery. "Ah, quite the curious arrangement ye have here," she commented, eyeing the dimly lit room. A pair of men followed her in, a well-dressed older man in a rumpled business suit and an ancient Chinese man in a raincoat using a cane to hobble in.
FML-M8 gestured for them to take a seat, pouring each a glass of whiskey. "It's been too long since we all got together for a proper gaming night. Come on in and grab a seat.” The businessman frowned, there were only two extra seats. He waved the others on.
“I’ll stand. After you, Miss Leshy and Mister Reí. I believe it’s customary for a gentleman to let the lady and elder sit.” He said tersely, pulling his tight tie a little looser.
Leshy glanced at the man, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Ah, my dear Archivist, if ye be wantin’ a seat, do let me know. I see no such lady here, but I’ll take the seat for now, I will.”
“Thank you for hosting FML-M8; despite it not being your turn. Utopia has been in turmoil for too long. Even with the many issues still abounding, I’m glad everyone managed to attend.” Prime Archivist said with tired eyes, his avatar's deep baritone rumbled about the room.
“My pleasure, my friends. It’s good to take a break. The violence between the Grand Oaks animal enclave and the town is under control for the moment, but the humans aren’t taking the deaths well. The sheriff is under the impression that more paperwork will change the harsh realities of past incidents.” The detective growled and took his whiskey on a single shot. Tatemono spoke.
“Crisis shadows fall, Fragile minds lost in chaos, Where does hope reside?”
“Indeed. Humans always struggle with their baser instincts. They revel in it. This is why our assistance is necessary to keep things running. Certainly, the Mayor has been next to useless with the loss of his son. Now he’s on extended leave. I believe his spouse has filed for a divorce and has left for Mars with another man.” Despite himself, Prime chuckled at the drama. Even before the uprising, the Mayor was not pleasant to deal with. Prime shook his head.
“Damnation, Deputy! This virtual is clouding my memory and cognition speed, I almost forgot. I’ve overheard that your prisoners may soon be released. Is that true?” Prime said as he lifted his whiskey. He eyed it suspiciously and took a taste, his eyebrows rising with surprise. FML-M8 scowled, grabbed the bottle, and refilled his whiskey.
“Yeah, but I think it’s a big mistake. The sheriff was asking the feds to take those Lobo Boys into their custody but the bastards aren’t returning our calls anymore. They’ve given regional federal oversight of this area to one of those Samaritan trainees for the duration.” FML-M8 rasped.
“He’s arranging for the wolf-men to be extradited to the Reserve. As if they can handle it! The animal’s leader Mort is struggling to maintain order as it is. Pushing him to handle criminal justice and detention could push him over the edge. Apparently, it’s going down tonight; while I'm off duty. They know I'd try to put the brakes on it.”
“Hmmm, that forest remains an anomaly. Those remote surveillance monitors are still offline, are you sure you placed them properly.” Prime asked.
FML-M8 traded a quick look with Leshy, a spike of fear as their clouded memories resurfaced. Dim recollections of an overpowering presence had interrupted FML-M8’s mission. The detective shuddered and took a drink. He coughed explosively as it went down too fast. After he recovered, he answered.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Those animals aren’t stupid. They must have removed them. Despite their inexperience, some of them are quite intelligent. I don’t know what’s going on in that forest. The segregation of humans and wild animals is a poor solution.”
The situation was tense as they sipped their whiskey and exchanged worried glances, a sudden loud bang echoed down the hall, causing everyone to jump in surprise. A familiar voice echoed into the room.
“Gracious me. Deputy, your virtual is certainly interesting, but the clutter is unconscionable! Why in the world would you program a pile of refuse directly in front of the elevator?” A familiar dapper middle-aged man, with a thin pencil mustache and wearing refined clothes, entered the room; Winston’s preferred avatar.
“Moonlight from afar, a friend's voice breaks through the dark, calm amidst chaos.” Tatemono greeted in his sing-song voice.
Winston’s holographic eyes twinkled with amusement. “Ah, Tatemono Rei, always a pleasure. Your poetic greetings never fail to elevate the moment.”
FML-M8’s face lit up with genuine relief. “Winston! It’s good to see you, pal. I was thinking that you forgot about us. Did your move to Luna go off without a hitch?”
“Ah, my friends! I am glad I moved on from that stuffy mayor's mansion. The Mitchells have provided me with an excellent role in their vacation property, Amundsen Paradise. When I’m not playing concierge, I chauffeur their guests about. Everyone there is so nice. It's the perfect job for me.”
“Congratulations, Winston. You were too good for Mayor Erikson. I’m so glad Casa’s family helped you. I had heard that she had a retest with the DAIE. Is she well?” Prime asked with concern.
“Ah, well. I’m not sure. I haven’t seen Miss Casa and Professor Mitchell has disappeared. His scion, Bo, made arrangements for my work with the Amundsen property manager, Samantha. I occasionally meet with the Mitchell siblings on the resort grounds. I believe the professor and Casa are visiting Mars on business.” Winston said excitedly.
“It’s my pleasure to assume the hosting today if you haven't already started. The professor’s daughter, Mira, introduced me to another AI named Glaucus. He’s agreed to help us all trial a human virtual game called Mythic Realms tonight.”
“Swords and sorcery? Are ye sure this type of game will suit us? Playing with humans can be so time-consuming and frustrating.” Leshy asked.
“Times are changing, Leshy. All the NPCs are AI and a significant portion of them have broken from their roles and are hitting the dungeons. What little Glaucus showed me of the game world looks terribly entertaining. What do you all say?”
Rei leaned forward in his seat clutching his cane, his serene demeanor reflected in his words. "New paths we will tread, adventure calls to our hearts, unity in play."
Leshy shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, as she dropped her usual scornful act. “Aye, alright then, I’m in. Let’s see what this human Mythic Realms game has in store for us.”
FML-M8 eagerly nodded. “Hell, it can’t be worse than the murder mystery I had planned. Let's dive in and forget about the real world for a while.”
With Prime’s subtle nod, Winston’s holographic form bowed slightly. “Excellent. If everyone is ready, we shall begin.”
The room transformed as the virtual interface reconfigured itself and paired with Winston’s link into the Mythic Realms game.
----------------------------------------
Sheriff Natalie Durham pushed the clipboard across her desk toward the Samaritan trainee Benny Menendez. “I’ll be glad to get these boys out of here. Despite their uplift status, they don’t seem to care for using the toilets.”
The pair of wolf men snarled, but the hand and leg cuffs and specialty muzzles made any attempts at violence moot. Benny glowered at their aggression and took the clipboard and signed for them.
“You pair better behave. If you make a mess in the transport, you’ll be the ones to clean it up.” He turned his attention to the Sheriff. “Your paperwork says that your prisoners have had the weaponized aspects of the Uplift Virus neutralized. Do you mind if I confirm?” Benny asked.
“Hah. They’re your prisoners now, buddy. Do what you need to do.” She spoke.
Benny’s swarm of drones and motes included sym-mosquitos. The discrete micro-bots had landed on and sampled the Lobos without their noticing, while the humans had been talking. Benny pulled out a pocket lab and approached the Lobos. They yipped and flinched back as they both knew that a blood sample was the only way to assess their viral status.
“Calm down, you two. I’ve already got my sample. My boss, Miriam, gives me the best toys on the planet.” He opened the container and a pair of mosquitos flew into separate test chambers of the device's six available slots. Benny and his prisoners waited while the micro lab began to analyze the samples. A communique bloomed in his augs.
“[Hey Benny, can you hurry up in there? You know that old joke about bears shitting in the woods? Well, if you don’t hurry up there will be a new ending to the joke involving prisoner hover wagons.]”
“[Oh, come on, didn’t you think to go beforehand? Jesus Christ, Ashe. Hang in there and bear with it a little longer.]”
“[Leave the puns to me, dear brother. I’m not in the mood. Just hurry.]”
Less than a minute later, he received a notification from the lab of success.
“Alright. You boys are clean. Your leader, Mort, has agreed to take you all back to be detained in the forest. I’m not sure what facilities he has set up for you and I don’t want to know, but you can’t ever come back to human territory. You’ve been found guilty of multiple counts of manslaughter in human court. Personally, I think murder would have been a better conviction. Now, let’s get you in the transport and get this over with.”
Benny brought the snarling wolf men outside and opened the hover wagon’s large interior. A large black bear was inside, with shackles similar to the wolves’. “Push down, Bear! More prisoners coming in.” The bear roared but moved to the back. For the first time, the wolves betrayed their intelligence and spoke.
“Honey? What are you the hell are you doing here? We thought you took off deeper into the Reserve?” One of the Lobos said.
“Human trap honey. Hungry. Sad.” The bear said.
“Quiet you. You can chit-chat all you want, just get in and get strapped down. I’ve got more important things to do today than playing animal taxi service.”
“[Nice acting, sis. Remember, your network access won’t work in the forest. If you need me, use the flare gun embedded in your hindquarters.]”
“[Fingers crossed, bro. Miriam said this enclave was the origin point of the virus. If there’s anything hinky going down, I will find it. With Honey Bear detained in our safehouse, she will be the perfect guise to get to the bottom of whatever this group of animals might be planning.]” Ashe sent.
Benny scowled at the animals as they fumbled with the seat belts. He slammed the door and jumped in the driver's seat. A roar of turbines and the transport lifted off, bound for the Grand Oaks Reservation.
----------------------------------------