Feeling like a total idiot, I cautiously drove home and holed up inside. I had spent the better part of my post-high school years playing video games, mostly RPGs and shooters, but also other genres from time to time. Yet, here I was, acting like some noobish brat. I was simply running amuck, without any care for the art of strategy. I had to face facts; my new life was a game, and the stakes were higher now than ever before.
I sat down in my beanbag chair and thought about what I needed to do to achieve my goals. Schemes and strategies materialized in my mind, only to be quickly dismissed due to my lack of resources. I had no money, no party members, and no supplies. Like in any RPG, players are generally only as good as their gear, and I had nothing except a crumpled-up dollar bill and the t-shirt on my back.
If you need advanced supplies and technology, I can help you with that. My memory repository contains schematics and blueprints for more than 1.2 million inventions and innovations from the IGC. We will need capital and engineers to build them though.
“I don’t understand much about the IGC, PAL. I get the idea that it was an advanced civilization, but I want to know more. What exactly is it that I am trying to rebuild?”
The Inter-Galactic Confederacy was a martial empire based in the Andromeda Galaxy. It spanned over 500 colonized planets and 10,000 occupied systems. It was quite advanced compared to the primitive human population here on Earth.
“I’m confused. I’m Andromedan, right? Why do I look human? Shouldn’t there be some noticeable differences between me and everybody else?”
Andromedans are human, Admiral. Your people were settled in the Andromeda Galaxy by an unknown space-faring race approximately 2,000 Earth years ago. In a short time, your ancestors advanced and dominated their new home. Through their interaction with hostile foreign environments, the Andromedan physiology strengthened, making your people essentially a more resolute version of the humans here on Earth.
“What about my role as First Admiral? I still don’t understand what that means for me.”
Since its inception, the IGC has been headed by an Admiral. Originally this individual was elected by his or her peers, but in time this system broke down and the position became hereditary. So, to answer your question, you are the supreme leader of the IGC, and your hypothetical children will one day follow you in this role. The only checks on your power are the Second and Third Admirals, who together can veto your actions. Lucky for us, those positions are currently vacant.
“My God, this is crazy.” I took a deep breath and let the weight of my new role sink in. Then, I continued my line of questioning, “What was this data repository you mentioned?”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As part of my directive, I cataloged millions of inventions and innovations from the IGC. With the right resources, we can recreate these innovations and use them to our benefit.
A thought crossed my mind. “Could we sell some of this IGC technology to raise the funds that we need to take control of the world?”
Yes, I don’t see why not.
“Then I think I finally have a plan.”
## ##
My surroundings were uncomfortable and foreign to me as I made my way toward the large oaken door at the end of the hall. Stuffy suits and jeweled petticoats stared at me in confused bewilderment as I flowed right past them in my oversized prom tuxedo and approached the doors. In my hand was a cracked $1 vase from the thrift store near my house, it looked horribly out of place in its surroundings, as did I.
The doors creaked open, revealing a soirée of snobs and fancy things. The whole scene looked similar to The Antique Roadshow, but for a more “discerning” clientele. It was here that I had decided to hedge my bets and make my first real move.
“Sir,” a skinny woman wearing a black cummerbund and silky white shirt stopped me, “this is an invite-only event, I am afraid that I will have to ask you to leave.”
“Tell me your darkest secret,” I asked her, without so much as batting an eye.
“I slept with my sister’s fiancée on the day of her wedding.” She gasped, covered her mouth, and bid a hasty retreat like my other victims before her. Two more uses of my abilities and I will level up, I thought.
With a slight hobble to my step, I slunk into the men’s room and into a private stall. Lucky for me, this swanky hotel had charging ports by the toilets. My plan was to nap off my lack of energy inside the stall, but now a new option had presented itself. PAL, plug me in.
With a renewed vigor, I walked back into the main hall, only to be met with stunned stares.
“What is that?” A slimy man holding a glass of rosé approached me, as a crowd gathered around him.
“It’s my grandmother’s vase.” I lowered my bottom lip just enough to make it quiver slightly, “I heard that an international antique appraisal expo was in town and I thought I would bring it by. I hate to see it go, but I need to pay off my debt, or else I will lose everything.”
“I’ll give you $5,000 cash, no questions asked. The man motioned an attendant forward. Like in a movie, he opened a briefcase and began to pull out stacks of mint green cash.”
“Wait!” A woman from the audience stepped towards me, “I will double that offer.”
“I’ll give you the whole briefcase, $13,000 in all,” the first man cut her off.
Just as I was about to accept his offer, a portly fellow with an English accent inserted himself into the fray. “May I see that for a moment?” He motioned to me.
Without hesitation, I placed the vase in his hand. With the whole room watching, he pulled out a small pair of spectacles and slid them over the bridge of his nose. With careful precision he skimmed the vase across his vision, inspecting it thoroughly.
“I see,” his stunned expression exposed his sense of elation, “this is quite something. I will take it! $20,000, cash. No questions.”
“Deal,” I took the briefcase and bid a hasty exit all the way back to my car. Once inside, I breathed a breath of relief, closed my mom’s Chinese pottery book, ripped my brother’s theatre wig off and put the car into the reverse. Mission complete.
I was finally getting it together.