Marcus sat back on the cot, leaning against the GP-Medium’s wooden support rod, a liter-and-a-half bottle of Abant cradled in his lap. Next to him, Blackmount sat, his lips pressed against a similar bottle sat forward, his eyes glued to Marcus’s laptop. At this point, Marcus thought, he and Blackmount had burned through about seventy-percent of the pirated and CD burned fansubs, VHS and DVD rips Marcus had brought with him to Iraq. That was somewhat troubling to the young soldier since his unit still had several months left in the damnable desert.
“Hey, Kline!” Blackmount yelled, pinging Marcus off the head with a bottle cap.
Marcus came out of his mental projections and thoughts of shaking down the black market DVD sellers outside of Doha on the next trip south. “What?”
Blackmount pointed at the laptop. “What’d you do if you got that kind of chance?”
Marcus looked from his friend - the guy who’d introduced him to Dungeons and Dragons in AIT, hiding the game in a vent grate above the showers - then back at the laptop. He’d lost track of what they were watching but as opening started to play and goofy-looking bug army led by some snobby looking school kid came on screen the meaning of the question became clear. “Don’t know,” Marcus said shrugging.
Blackmount leaned forward, hitting the space bar on the laptop before regarding Marcus again. “How can’t you know?” His voice was full of bafflement. “I thought the who portal fantasy / transported to another world thing was bread and butter to you geeks.”
Marcus barked out a laugh. “You geeks?” He said choking on his laughter. “This from the guy who wears a d20 on his tags.”
Blackmount shrugged. “Seriously dude, what would you do?”
Marcus shrugged again and turned back to the screen, watching as a fire priestess got drunk and hit on one of the female characters.
“I liked the OAV better,” Marcus grunted, then with a sigh answered Blackmount. “I seriously don’t know, it isn’t like this kind of thing can ever happen you know?” He shrugged again and returned to the show, trying his best to welcome his distraction from the desert and camp news outside the tent.
“You never know, Kline,” Blackmount countered. “I mean if we were stateside, I could log into an MMO and experience something like that.”
Marcus shook his head. “No way.” He said bluntly. “Look at the game you play, Trashcan’s Call?” He paused waiting to see if Blackmount took the bait. The other soldier refused to engage him. “It’s nothing like this,” Marcus pointed at the screen. “Or Narnia, or the one with giant robots and winged pretty-boys. Plus you have a predefined role in MMOs: Fight.”
Blackmount looked at him glaring menacingly and promising retribution. “That’s what it’s like right now.” the young soldier said. “But it’ll get better, think about it, none of us thought when playing Super Jump Bros that we’d ever be able to play with so many other people or that 3d environments would be a reality.”
Marcus shrugged again and downed his water. “Fine, if through some miracle of science or magic I get transported to another world,” he paused and looked at the screen. “I’d wander.”
----------------------------------------
Marcus blinked and let out a loud yawn that caused several disks in his neck to pop in grateful release. Without opening his eyes he stumbled to his feet and started to move toward his bathroom. Three steps into the journey he slammed into a table then stumbled backward into a misplaced chair falling on his ass. Another heartbeat and the heavy chair fell over crashing into his head.
“What in the hell!” He bellowed, throwing the chair off of him and springing to his feet, ready to verbally pounce on Dale for her redecorating the bedroom without letting him know. Opening his eyes, the angry words ready on his lips vanished and were replaced by something far less fierce. “What?”
The room Marcus found himself in was not the large suburban master suite he was expecting. The room was fairly small but large enough for a small rounded hardwood table, two chairs, and a sagging bed pushed against one wall. Picking up the chair he’d thrown, Marcus sat down and took in the room. Three walls were of rough wooden planks, the far wall, with a small fireplace - complete with crackling fire - was built of masoned stone. The floor too was wood, with a shaggy carpet resting between the bed and table. Besides the table and bed, a small chest and a wardrobe rested against another wall looking to be made of solid oak wood. Standing up, Marcus walked to toward the fire, surprised at the increasing feeling of warmth that prickled across his bare chest and legs and the smell of wood smoke that suffused the air.
“Amazing,” He muttered as he moved a hand closer to the fire, feeling the warmth increase by degrees until he felt prickles of pain. Looking at his hand, he was surprised at how much like his own it looked, weathered lines, old scars, and hair all were he thought they should be. He also noticed how dry and red the hand was due to the closeness of the fire. True, he’d gotten much closer than real life had allowed, but even if he hadn’t started to feel the pain until he was inches from the cheery flames, his body reacted as it would have in the real world.
Moving on he walked to a shuttered window and carefully opened it. A chill spring breeze washed over him carrying with it the scent of fresh rain and sun. Stepping forward he gazed out at his new world. A small yard tilled and waiting for spring planting stood below, directly in front of a small stable, to the left an outdoor oven, made of the same masoned stone as the wall, smoked as something inside that Marcus could smell cooked slowly. Beyond the stable a dirt road, heavily rutted wound its way past and off to the tree line that spanned the horizon.
Turning back to the room the old man smiled, his eyes twinkling with the light of a gamer who just realized the dream. “Fully sense immersive.” He whispered, looking at his fire dried hand again. “Amazing.”
Moving to the wardrobe he found a simple pair of brown trousers and a white linen shirt reminiscent of the “underclothes” must players started with an in MMO. After a few moments to get dressed - and burying his disappointment that he still looked to be as old and out-of-shape as he was in the real world - Marcus made his way out of the room.
I wonder if all the beta-testers are granted a homestead? He thought to himself as he closed the door to the room, taking an extra moment to feel the otherworldly realness of the door handle as the coolness of the brass ran up his arm. He smiled and made his way toward a nearby staircase.
His initial hope that he’d been gifted a house was taken away the moment he descended the stairs and found himself in the large common room of a rather generic fantasy inn. Tables - thirteen in total - were arranged haphazardly around the large room, all seeming to vie for space near one of the two overly large stone fireplaces that capped either side of the large common room. Off to the side, a long bar of ale stained wood rested protecting a wall of bottled wines, liquors and spirits ... and a short curvy woman in white robes.
“Oh, good you’re awake Marcus.” The short woman said as she came around the bar tucking her dusky hair behind a pointed ear. “I do apologize, we’re still working on the sync rates,” she continued. “Unfortunately, that means that we have some actually REM cycling before ... what are you looking at?”
Marcus shook his head. “Doctor ... Stein?”
The small woman beamed up at him. “Yes, obviously.” She pointed at one of the tables then hopped into a seat waiting for him.
Marcus followed suit and slid into the chair across from the engineer. “What’s going on, I thought I was supposed to be in the game.”
She laughed. “Where else do you think you are?” she waved a hand around the inn then pointed to herself. “Seriously, Marcus you were in our offices do you think we could just hide a pub like this or that I’m secretly a Sprig.”
Marcus cocked an eyebrow.
“A Sprig is one of the starting races, think of them as a cross between a halfling and a gnome.” She paused for a moment letting Marcus take that in and then continued. “If you focus on me for a moment you should see a player tag.”
Marcus nodded then focused on the Sprig.
Name: Steinella
Race: Sprig
“No Class?” Marcus blurted out.
“No, ǽther is a classless system ... right now.” She said, her voice trailing off at the end. “Do something, practice it, pay for training, fail around, yadda, yadda, yadda,” she continued with a roll of her wrist. “Point is, the more you do the better you get. Find a sword, a spellbook, a rake, a forge, whatever you can think of and go to town.”
Marcus nodded and looked around. “So you’re saying if I stood behind the bar and tended to other players ...”
“You’d slowly rank up in the [SERVICE] skill with a specialty in spirits, liquor, and ales.” Stein - Steinella - cut in finishing the sentence. “There are nearly as many skills and potential skill occupations as there are in the real world,” she shrugged and tapped the table not even trying to hide her smile as a pint of amber ale appeared before the two them. Picking her’s up and taking a long swig the engineer continued. “In some ways, there’s more as we have to account for all the fantasy crap.”
Marcus nodded again, taking in the flood of information as he took a sip of his own ale. “Fuck!” He exclaimed before taking a deeper pull of the ale. “This is exactly like ...” he trailed off, struggling to remember the name of the small pub he’d visited in Ireland during a particularly long layover during the return from one of his Middle East deployments.
Steinella smiled and took another drink of her own ale. “To me, it tastes like this micro-brew I had in college from outside West Chester.” She laughed at the confused look on the older man’s face. “Remember what I called the system, Marcus?”
Marcus held up a finger and downed the rest of his drink in a single large take, letting the taste and feel of the just south of cold wash over his virtual taste buds. “LIDVaR, right?”
The engineer nodded. “Yes, Lucid Intuitive Deep Virtual Reality, and this is your first example of the system.” She finished her own drink with a challenging grin before continuing. “The system AI links the taste of the ale to a memory tag of ale. Since you obviously are thinking of a lesser ale than me you get a different taste.”
“Lesser?”
Steinella waved his question away and took another pull from her refilled pint. “Same goes for sounds, smells, other tastes, and other generic information.”
“So is this inn then different for the two of us ... like the Chinese verses Canadian Forests?”
“No, unique structures are more or less the same for everyone, the hardwood floor or the wood itself might be different, but the table, chair, fireplaces, etc are the same and located in the same place for all players. Think of buildings and other unique places like those early VR rooms, you had stock objects all other the place that were just blocky and green but when you put the visor on it looked like an old gothic mansion full of ghosts.” The engineer took a drink and continued. "Except now you're own eyes and memories are the VR headset."
Marcus nodded his understanding and looked down at his own pint a little longingly. With a chuckle, Steinella tapped the table and the ale was instantly replaced. Marcus sat back with his ale, looking over the inn, imagining if a vegan would see the mounted Owlbear head above the far fireplace differently than he would.
“Is this the starting area?” Marcus asked after another long pull of his ale.
Steinella shook her head and pointed to a small pedestal that rested between her and Marcus. A pedestal - Marcus was quite certain - that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. “This is character creation.”
Blue light erupted from the pedestal resolving in a slowly rotating image of Marcus dressed in the generic tunic and pants he now wore. Despite being in shades of blue, Marcus could make out nearly every flaw, scar, and worry line that marked his body as his own. His beard flowed down over his chest, it’s triple blue tone mimicking the black, gray, white pattern of his own. His head was bald, and his gut was large enough that he could be mistaken for Santa Claus. With a sigh, he looked over the model and was surprised when information popped up on either side of the model.
Name: Marcus - Change?
Race: Human - Change?
Age: Venerable - Change?
Sex: Male - Change?
Features: Access Sub-Menu
Boon: Access Sub-Menu
Preview?
Everything was pretty standard to most MMOs he’d played in his lifetime, the age not being numerical threw him a bit but he figured it was a workaround to simplify the engine and give a generic average of what a certain age group looked like. The only thing that he didn’t understand was the [Boon] option.
“What’s [Boon]?” He asked, blinking to dismiss the information.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Steinella put her ale down gently, looking at the drink a little too fondly before answering. “It’s a cheat,” she said bluntly. “A way to help the players not die within a few hours of game time.” At Marcus’s wide-eyed look the engineer laughed. “Okay so not that dire, but it’s - as the name implies - a boon to help the players out in the world. Maybe you have a gift for tongues and can learn a language two-times faster than the average player. Or perhaps your body processes protein a little better than other players, giving you a 5% boost to your Strength gain over time.”
Marcus nodded along. He could easily see how Steinella could view the [Boon] as a cheat. After all, it took away from the full immersion of the game and skill-based system. Still, he could also see how it made each player feel like they weren’t just dumped into a cold and unforgiving fantasy world.
“You have two choices.” Steinella continued, not caring if Marcus was done digesting the information or not. “You can pick one of the prebaked options or random it and get an option from every potential Boon in the game.”
Marcus cocked an eyebrow at that. “How many [Boon] options could actually exist in the game?”
Steinella took another drink of her ale. “Over two-thousand.” She held up a hand to forestall any follow-up questions from Marcus. “Based on your choices during character creation and what the AI can glean of you a [Boon] is selected as the most potentially suited to you. [Boon], however, aren’t limited to character creation. They can be gifted by gods, a positive result from a natural consequence.” She paused for a moment trying to think of an example. “Say you rescued a mermaid from a carnival and returned her home as a reward, the sea-king grants you the [Boon] [Whale’s Breath] which allows you to hold your breath for one hour.”
Marcus let out a whistle. [Boon] would be game-changers in the early months of the game, but eventually, people would start to post their experiences online and everyone would have [Whale’s Breath]. With a pull of his own ale, Marcus related his thoughts to the engineer.
Nodding, Steinella did her best to reassure the older man. “Everything in the game is procedurally generated and has a one in a one-trillion chance of repeating. So not impossible but highly unlikely.”
“Okay,” Marcus said. “One final - and probably dumb question: How do I work this?”
Steinella let out a laugh. “Pick up the mouse and talk to it.” She said, miming the action. “Hello Computer,” she said brightly with a horrible Scottish accent. “Honestly, it’s not dumb, this is totally new tech, just think of the option you want to change and go from there.”
With a final nod, Marcus returned to the hovering, rotating hologram of himself.
Name: Marcus – Change?
Race: Human - Change?
Age: Venerable - Change?
Sex: Male - Change?
Features: Access Sub-Menu
Boon: Access Sub-Menu
Preview?
Marcus took a breath, let it out slowly and thought [Age]
Available Ages:
Child
Young
Prime
Venerable
Aged
Marcus automatically dismissed the idea of [Child], [Venerable], and [Aged]. He had no desire to make himself even older, and what was the point of a fully immersive fantasy world if his bladder still woke him up at three in the morning? At the same time, Marcus had no wish to going back to his prepubescent days. That left [Young] and [Prime]. Selecting [Young] Marcus looked at the screen.
The hologram grew slightly, the shoulders pushing back until the figure stood proud and tall, full of the piss and vinegar Marcus was sure he had in his teens and twenties. The worry lines and scars fading to non-existence as hair lengthened and filled out his previously bald head. Curious, Marcus moved back to the main screen and thought [Preview].
Marcus took a quick surprised breath as the pain he had forgotten existed suddenly vanished from his body. His lower legs no longer felt weighed down by lead weights, his left shoulder and hand lost the tightness that had been a normal part of his life since an ambush during his second tour.
“What the hell,” he crocked out breathlessly. “How powerful is this system?”
Steinella looked at him questioningly for a moment before realization dawned on her face - helped by Marcus jumping up from the table and sprinting up and down the stairs like an excited child. “It goes back to what we said about generic assets.” She yelled after Marcus’s form as he ran up the stairs again. “The system mirrors what your mind and body know as reality until you ... “ the engineer paused, searching for the right way to phrase her next statement. “Well, until you change the reality.”
Marcus was smiling brightly as he moved back to the table. “Amazing,” he said with a laugh. “This is simply amazing ... but maybe a little too much.” He finished as he flopped back into the chair and accessed the pedestal again making his way to [Age] and selecting [Prime]. This time he didn’t bother to preview his choice, he figured he knew well enough what [Prime] Would be like. Instead, he moved back to the main options and moved to [Race]
Available Starting Races:
Human: Humans are the most populous of the races of ǽther. Humans are a diverse race featuring a multitude of languages, cultures, societies, and ethnicities. What humans lack in natural magic affinity and long life they make up for in population, ingenuity, and adaptability. Humans are unfortunately touched by Nefl and as such have a propensity for acts of great good and great evil.
Dwarf: The firstborn of ǽther, the dwarves slept through the great war of the gods as punishment for refusing to pick a side. When they awoke they found themselves, strangers, in a world they knew no longer, and to a variety of races, they had never known. Dwarves are stewards of the Under Realms, and it is a rare dwarf indeed who adventures and travels the sun-washed world. Dwarves are strong craftsmen, ferocious fighters, and steadfast allies to their friends and family. Unfortunately due to their imposed sleep Dwarves are not fully trusted by the other races of ǽther and often find it difficult to make it in the new and strange world.
Elf: Refugees from another existence, the Elves were brought to ǽther through a rift in time and space created by the death of a god during the War. Trapped in a new world not their own, the Elves sought out places that reminded them of their homelands as they sought a way to return. As centuries passed, the Elves became a reclusive race, uninterested in joining the other races of ǽther as they sought a way home from their forest fortresses. Some elves who have never known anything but ǽther have grown sick of the near xenophobia of their elders and have struck out into the world to seek adventure and a life not dedicated to finding a way to a home they never knew. Elves are extremely strong with magic, a trait that seemingly grew stronger after they were trapped on ǽther during the latter days of the war. Due to their reclusive history, most adventuring Elves come across as naive and are easily taken advantage of by others.
Sprig: Sprigs are the youngest of the races of ǽther, appearing suddenly in the plains south of the mountains and with a lifespan only marginally longer than a human. Sprigs are extremely curious and are filled with wanderlust that drives them from their home settlements. This wanderlust does not abate for decades and when it finally does a Sprig naturally finds their way home. Sprigs are the shortest of the races and if not for their secondary sexual and pubescent characteristics would be mistaken for children.
Marcus rubbed at his beard at his read over the choices. The [Starting Races] text stood out to him and he briefly wondered if more races would be unlocked through in-game events or in expansions. While he found this intriguing it wasn’t a concern at the moment. All the same, Marcus thought. Best be careful around potential werewolves and vampires.
Out of the available races only Sprig was new to him, and frankly, he didn’t know if he wanted to look short and childlike the way Steinella did. Crossing Sprigs off his mental list he continued, automatically removing Elves as a matter of course and leaving him with a hard decision. Dwarves - according to Marcus - were the greatest badasses in fantasy and gaming and Marcus had a long history playing as them across the gaming spectrum. Despite this, he didn’t automatically pick the race the would have in almost any other game.
Looking away from the pedestal he looked Steinella over. “What was in like?” He asked the Sprig engineer. “I mean being a non-human?”
Steinella looked herself over for a moment smiling at some private memory. “Weird,” she said simply. “And kind of scary,” she added a little timidly.
“Scary?”
The short woman nodded, her hair bobbing animatedly. “Yes,” she said, fiddling with her pint. “I’m already pretty short IRL but this was a lot to get used to. Things were so much bigger and I kept tripping over my own feet as I wasn’t used to the difference in my leg size or join placement.” She laughed. “In the testing environment that predated the alpha build we had a track and field course. I couldn’t even run a lap for a week because of how much I fell.”
Marcus nodded. It made sense that it would take the body time to adjust, and most likely there would be an adjustment period when coming out of the LIDVaR system as well since the player would get used to their in-game body. “I’m too old for that shit,” Marcus mumbled and turned back to the pedestal, his choice made.
Selecting [Human] he moved on.
Looking at [Features] he found a large number of sliders for everything from arm hair length to toenail growth rate. After getting lost playing with every slider and palette box, Marcus settled on a less overweight frame and added more muscle - but not enough to look like a gym bro. Since he didn’t change his skeletal structure - something told him that might be painful - he still appeared larger than average with a barrel chest, broader than normal shoulders, and a more or less rectangular frame. He also shortened and colored his beard to red and just to the midpoint of his chest. His hair he let grow down to the mid of his back, much like he had it before going into the service, and deftly braided it while he looked at the next option.
Sex:
Male
Female
He looked at Steinella for a moment, an evil grin on his face and made his selection.
Surprisingly his perspective didn’t change much, only lowering by an inch or two. The sudden weight on his chest and shoulders though was a surprise and looking down he saw two very large breasts pulling at the tunic - which thankfully adjusted to his new frame. “Damn,” he whispered noting that his voice was higher but not extremely so. “The women in my family were well-endowed,” he said to Steinella who only looked back at him unimpressed. He shrugged, gave himself quick groping, checking to make sure all the plumbing had been changed then went to look at the pedestal.
The hologram hovering above the pedestal reflected a woman in her [Prime] who was built like the proverbial brick house. She was definitely feminine but no one would mistake her for a weak damsel. Giving the figure - well, herself Marcus thought - a closure look, Marcus thought he saw shades of his Grandmother in pictures of her from her college days in her homeland of Finland.
Steinella must have guessed his thoughts as she chimed in. “Unless you make changes the system will start you out at the closest baseline it can derive for your sex choice.” Marcus gave the engineer a nod before giving herself a final poke and returned to the pedestal and choose [Male].
“That was weird,” Marcus said as he checked himself over.
“Oh, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Not bad ... just weird, different.”
Steinella gave him a nod. “We get that a lot from both sides. Some choose to stay themselves others figure it’d be interesting to walk a proverbial mile.” She took a large pull of her drink. “And for the rest, well it’s a mixture of things a lot of happy crying ...” The engineer gave a little smile.
Marcus nodded at her. He couldn’t say he understood personally, but even a grouchy old man like him could understand the emotion. “So you do this for everyone?”
Steinella shook her head. “No, there are four of us who guide the testing team through creation.”
“Isn’t that going to get hard when this gets released?”
Steinella let out a laugh. “God, we won’t be doing that. This is a testing only environment, we are working on an utterly automated and AI-led character creation assistant for launch.”
Marcus picked up his pint, ready for a small break after the last set of changes. “That makes more sense.” He said after a long pull. “The creation is rather simple in a lot of ways …”
“But the implementation can throw you for a loop,” Steinella finished for him with a tip of her mug. “Yep, we let the first hundred or so testers in without any guides and we found a few … issues.” She said given the man a pointed look. “We had several emotional breakdowns, a few not exactly work-friendly detours, and other smaller things. A few who decided to be dwarves figured they’d test Dwarven alcohol resistance,” she giggled. “We had to boot them out until they sobered up.”
Marcus eyed the bar and smiled. He was never much of a lush but he did enjoy his microbrew ales. “Heh, I can understand I think.”
Steinella gave him a nod and subtly gestured with her mug to the pedestal. Marcus took the hint, this character creation session was starting to get overly long and had this been real life, and around a table, he would have been pinging the offending player with chips by this point.
Turning back to the pedestal, Marcus looked at the last two options [Features] and [Boon]. Selecting [Features] he sighed in annoyance as a multi-page screen popped up from the pedestal.
Features:
Features are the collection of skills, knowledge, and cultural abilities gifted to all people of ǽther. Features add a passive bonus to any action that falls within the purview of the Feature. As a human, the following features have been made available to you.
Select Three:
Marcus glared over at Steinella. “There are twenty-seven-hundred pages of [Features] here.” He snarled. “I might be here for a week!” He looked down and scrolled a bit before continuing his rant. “Why does [Brewing] need a five-page description?”
Steinella giggled. “Our Lore Master is a bit over-zealous,” she said. “If you scroll down to the bottom you can pick [Random]. It’s a literal roll of the dice, but you’ll be done with it.”
Marcus gave the Sprig programmer a thankful nod and selected [Random].
Features Selected: Random
Carpentry – You receive a passive bonus to all carpentry related tasks equal to your Carpentry level (currently 1) times 10.
Axes – You receive a passive bonus to all axe related tasks equal to your Axes level (currently 1) times 5. This benefit does not translate to combat unless you gain the [Favored Weapon: Axe] Skill.
Favored Weapon: Hammers – You receive a bonus to all attacks made with a hammer (even a tack hammer) equal to your Favored Weapon skill level + 5.
Marcus nearly laughed as he looked over his [Random] [Features]. Somehow, the universe of ǽther had decided he was to be a woodcutter and carpenter. Well, he could work with, and starting a game with a bonus to what was possibly a good craft skill wouldn’t hurt him. With a nod and a quick prayer that he didn’t just hobble himself through his laziness, he went on to the final selection [Boon].
Boon:
Boons are gifts from the remaining gods of ǽther. Boons are meant to help and aid the races of ǽther through a hard life. At birth, a Boon is selected for most but as an [Outsider] you have the unique ability to select a Boon.
Select One:
Night Eye – You can see better at night than most. This is not true night vision or dark vision.
Silver Tongue – The people of ǽther like the way you speak, offering you better opportunities in diplomatic, trade, and amorous actions.
Gods’ Choice – You honor the gods of ǽther by allowing them to make the choice of Boon for you. This may result in a Rare Boon or in a Pitiful Boon.
Marcus scratched his chin through his beard. These are some shitty choices. He thought. “Can I reroll my available [Boon]?” He asked turning back to Steinella.
The little sprig shook her head. “Afraid not.” She said. “We tried it through a couple of different measures in past tests and the result was the same no matter what; players attempting to game the system.”
Marcus gave the engineer a nod. He didn’t like it and personally thought it was a bad design choice for a game that gave so much choice in other areas. Still, it wasn’t his game and he was getting paid to test it “as is”. Maybe after the test, he could come up with some new alternatives for them to try … maybe? Looking back at the pedestal he made his choice.
[Gods’ Choice]
“That’s everything then,” Steinella said jumping down from her seat and walking toward the tavern entrance. “If you’re all set, I’ll see you out.”
Marcus held up a hand. “Just one more thing.”
Turning back to the pedestal he selected [Name].
For a moment he could feel a burning sun beating down him, the smell of burning oil and rubber, the feeling of pain lancing up his arm as hot soft asphalt burned into his cheek. He remembered looking at Blackmount, only feet away staring back at him with dead eyes.
Name: Marcus - Change?
A Keyboard appeared before him and Marcus typed quickly.
“Looks like you were right,” he whispered his voice a bit rough.
Name: Wanderer
Wanderer turned and gave Steinella a quick nod. “Now, I’m ready.” He said firmly.
The engineer gave him a nod and opened the door revealing a swirling vortex of blues and purples. “Every starting location in the test is unique. Watch your step.”
“See you on the other side,” Wanderer said with and stepped through.
----------------------------------------
Dale glared at the security guard who stood blocking her path. “What the hell do you mean, you’re closed?”
The security guard looked at her dispassionately. “Again Ma’am, the facility is closed for the evening, no non-essential personnel.” He pointed to a sign on the door that stated essentially the same thing.
“Fine, can you tell me what time Marcus Kline left?”
The guard looked down a tablet in his hand, scanning through visitor and employee records. “Sorry ma’am,” the guard said a little apologetically. “Mr. Kline is listed as part of the Development Team … in Black Core.” The guard nodded as if that was everything she needed.
Dale could feel herself getting angry, Marcus hadn’t come home, hadn’t told her about an interview, and now apparently got a job (which was a good thing and progress she made sure to tell herself) without consulting her. Taking a breath and stomping down on the desire to punch the guard she tried again. “My husband just started here, today. He isn’t answering his phone and has come home. I am worried something may have happened and just want to check-in.”
The guard nodded a little sympathy taking root on his face. “I’m sorry I can assure you he’s here, but Black Core is a no-coms section due to the … “ the man paused a section then continued as if reciting something he didn’t quite understand “ … sensitive and experimental nature of the equipment.” He gave himself a nod proud to have said the line correctly. “I can send a note to his account if you wish when he’s on break or off shift he can leave Black Core and contact you.”
Dale ground her teeth. That wasn’t good enough! However, with a sigh, she nodded. “Can you make sure to do that, please?”
“Of course.”
Dale turned and walked down to her vehicle. After sliding in she turned the car on and played with the network connection. “Lucy?”
“Yes Mistress?”
“I’m going to assume that Marcus never got rid of those illegal mods I told him to?”
“No, Mistress. He renamed them cute things that you wouldn’t suspect.”
“I figured … didn’t think those ‘old friends’ of his were giving him all those new movies.”
“No, in fact, most of the Master’s friends are listed as dead.”
Dale sighed. Marcus didn’t really ever talk about the times before her. She was military, like him, and knew he’d been through a lot, but he never minded talking about the military in abstract form … no, it was his time back his dead little coal town that he never spoke about … and that Dale never cared much about to ask.”
“Can you still access networks quietly.”
Lucy’s diamond projection pulsed, an action Dale had started to link to a nervous gulp. “I can try but if the encryption is good I will be blocked and if there are anti-intrusion protocols - what Master called ICE – I may be deleted or detained.”
Dale gave a nod and started to fiddle with an old USB-C cord just in case the Guard was paying attention to them. Better to think she didn’t like using wireless tech instead of getting suspicious. “Can you … I don’t know make a copy and send that.”
“That sounds more like the games Master plays than reality, Mistress.”
“Well, what fucking then?!” Dale screamed.
Lucy’s projection shrank. “I am sorry I cannot be of … oh, wait … yes, that may work Mistress?”
Dale perked up. “What is it, Lucy?”
“I can send out a daemon … a thing that Master designed to find hard to get materials like newer films and novels.”
“Anything I need to do?”
“Provide the search parameters, please?”
Dale smiled and a few minutes later, Lucy was busy hacking into the Guard’s tablet to leave their Daemon behind.