1 Soul Bound
1.1 Finding her Feet
1.1.5 An Inscrutable Mastermind
1.1.5.26 Best friends forever
Nadine hastily prepared the upstairs room next to hers for Heather, and opened the window to air it, then went downstairs. Towels, amenities, power sockets. If there was one thing she was sure Heather would want, it was the ability to plug in 7 or more gadgets at the same time. Perhaps run an extension lead from the main solar cell fed battery above?
She went downstairs, humming to herself. Now, how to present it to her customers? Ah, yes.
“Elder Bahrudin, I have some very exciting news!” she practically gushed, letting enthusiasm light up her eyes and her feet.
“Miss Sabanagic, I am happy for you.” the stubborn old man was curious, but knew she wanted to tell, so rather than display his curiosity, he put on an air of paternal tolerance, leaving her to do all the running.
“It is good news for the kafana and for the local community too.” She proffered a teaser, but he was too wily to bite.
“Then we are blessed indeed.”
They both paused, appreciating the game. Rather than advance more, she tried another tack.
“The walls, they look a bit shabby, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Not at all. They are properly aged. They show character.” he replied.
“And your wife, she complains about the fridge in your house not working, does she not?” she pushed.
“A little, but what would life be if all were perfect?” he retreated a bit, now on uncertain ground, not able to guess where she was going.
“What if I told you that a millionaire was, at great expense, sending us the greatest craftsman in the world to stay here for a week? And that all we had to do, to gain the services of this great respected craftsman was to labour 10 hours each day serving his every whim?”
“10 hours a day, you say? That is a high price, but if the craftsman is as great as you say, surely that is but a pittance to them. I would ask why the millionaire is doing this. What interest is my fridge to him?”
“Indeed, I think 10 hours a day would be a bargain. So, of course I refused. I said the price was too high.” Kafana said with relish, now confident in her role in this story.
“You what?” roared Bahrudin “Think of all the things needing fixing around here. How did you dare refuse?”
Kafana continued, untroubled by the outburst, “The millionaire responded that 10 hours a day was more than reasonable, but there was a hitch. The crafter wanted to act the tourist. Not just a tourist, but a loud Scottish tourist with a lamentable taste for loud music. And that therefore out of the kindness of his heart, he would reduce the price to just 5 hours service a day.”
Bahrudin looked relieved. “Well bargained. I would not have thought to have done so. Well, so we’ll be labouring 5 hours a day, huh? I’ll prepare a list of things needing doing by your loud Scottish crafter.”
Kafana pretended to look shocked. “No, of course not. What do you take me for? My customers must come first, no matter the sacrifice. I thought of your dignity, Elder Bahrudin, and said we couldn’t possibly accept such conditions.”
Bahrudin looked distraught, imagining having to explain to his wife that his pride was the reason the fridge had not been repaired. “Can’t you get back to him and say you changed your mind? In the service of our community, I’m willing to sacrifice a little dignity.” Others, who’d gathered around listening, nodded agreement.
Kafana looked sympathetically at them “I wish I could. The millionaire bit his lip as I explained the circumstances and the pride of the men here. He said the crafter was dead set on vacationing here and nowhere else. And that, given there was one further hitch, he’d reduce the price one final time. One unalterable condition. Accept the condition, and a vast array of designer items would be ours that would amaze and astonish. Refuse and there would be no further negotiations, the deal would be off.”
“What was the condition?” asked Bahrudin, cautiously, having lost the game of pretending not to be curious.
Kafana stated as simply and sincerely as she could: “The condition is respect. We must accord the crafter the respect due to one of their talents, no matter what their external appearance or disposition.”
Bahrudin, looked relieved. “Well, that’s no more than justice. Of course we agree.”
A pause, then realising he didn’t know quite what he had agreed to, he asked suspiciously “And what exactly was this ‘further hitch’ ?”
Kafana replied, as casually as she could. “Ah, well, that. It turns out that this crafter is a woman. And as shameless as I am.”
Bahrudin groaned exaggeratedly, and made a gesture with his arms that signalled his total defeat.
My, but that did feel good after being railroaded in the game over the emerald. Perhaps boosts to luck transferred over to arlife from the game, as well as boosts to intelligence?
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Heather arrived late in the afternoon, accompanied by a swarm of drones carrying brightly coloured suitcases. She was greeted with great courtesy by the kafana’s regulars and ceremoniously served a cup of coffee by Bahrudin himself. Forewarned by Nadine, Heather didn’t disgrace herself, and she endeared herself to them by presenting in return as a guest gift a set of gloriously decorated metal flagons illustrating local legends, inscribed with each of their names. Bahrudin wanted to put them on a shelf above the bar, but Heather insisted that they all take them home, and that she’d be doing something else for the bar itself.
Once in private, Nadine finally got the hug she needed and they spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, Heather talking a mile a minute about every subject under the sun while browsing and editing The Burrow, and Kafana experimenting with different recipes for gelato and feeding bits to Heather to taste test. Heather had aged a little, was more lined and weather-worn, but she was still as skinny and energetic as ever, her hands and feet never still for more than a moment. She looked happy, and that was music to Nadine’s soul.
Nadine sung to her, even doing karaoke to twisted electronic tracks of Heather’s latest scream metal favourites. It was all good. Once the key preparations for the wedding she was hosting that evening had been completed, she turned the remainder over to the additional staff she’d hired and they went upstairs to chill with an open bottle of wine.
Heather: “How are you getting on with Vessel-Kafana?”
Nadine: “I think it is one of the best bits of the game. I really enjoyed dreaming the day she spent in town with Vessel-Alderney. Are you getting on well with yours?”
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Heather: “Um, this is a bit embarrassing. Mind if I tell you something private, and ask your advice?”
Nadine: “It is what friends are for. I’m listening.”
Heather: “My Vessel had sex with Carlo. Really energetic, scream-the-walls-down, repeat-until-dawn sex with Carlo. And I ended up dreaming it.”
Nadine asked cautiously: “How do you feel about that?”
Heather: “Like I wish she hadn’t. I get flashbacks to it any time I see Carlo or hear his voice. I don’t want them. I don’t think this is just me being ace. Most people are not going to want first person memories like that, that they didn’t ask for, right? Tell me I’m not being silly here.”
Nadine: “No, of course you’re not being silly. It is probably covered in the small print of a user agreement disclaimer somewhere, but holy shit!”
Heather: “Yeah, you’re not the only one in need of someone to comfort them in arlife and tell them everything is going to be ok.”
Nadine held her for a while and asked Heather if she wanted a sounding board for solutions, to be distracted, reassured, or what?
Heather thought, for a moment. “All of those, but initially a sounding board. I’ve considered contacting the company, but it would blow Wellington’s anonymity precautions. I’ve considered asking the Sanctum guardian to break the link and see if someone else will be willing to be my Vessel. But Vessel-Alderney didn’t do it on purpose. She didn’t know I’d feel that way, it didn’t occur to her, to her it was just fun. I’ve considered telling her how I feel, but I’m not even sure I have the right to do that, to ask her to go without sex for who knows how many years? I’ve considered giving up playing the game, but I believe in what Bulgaria is doing, and if I let him know about this, he’ll feel terrible.”
Nadine stopped her. “May I say something, even if I put my foot in it?”
Heather: “Sure. If it comes out wrong, I’ll put it down to the wine.”
Nadine: “Heather I love you for worrying about everyone else but it is like an aircraft losing oxygen - you have to put your own mask on first, before worrying about other people. We are going to find a solution that means you can play the game without fearing that there will be any more such dreams. And if the first solution doesn’t work, we will keep looking and we will find one. Your mental sanctity, your identity, is not acceptable collateral damage. Now, I have an idea. If it fails, there will be no harm done. Would you mind if I give it a try, right now?”
Heather: “I guess?”
Nadine: “Minion, can you connect with Heather’s tiara and give her a real time view-only authorisation so she can watch what I do as I do it?”
[Yes, Nadine.]
Nadine: “Heather, I’ve never tried this drunk, so wish me luck.”
She got her crown out of the box under her bed, and used her activation phrase:
“Nadine the First, Queen of Song!”
Heather found that hilarious.
She lay down and entered Soul Bound. *flip* Good, she was alone in her cell.
{System, sorry to address you formally, but this is a serious out-of-character matter. Please confirm that you are monitoring my mind and able to verify that I believe what I am saying is true.}
[You are somewhat drunk, but in your right mind, and not intending deceit, Kafana.]
{There is an arlife danger to the game and to the game’s reputation. It would be to the parent company’s benefit if you arrange an immediate meeting between me and Cov. Not the in-character Cov-the-deity, but the out-of-character Cov-the-expert-system.}
[I am creating a white box, temporarily disconnecting your spirit from this vessel, and connecting you to a body in the form your client describes as your base shape. Nothing that happens in the box will affect your in-game status.]
Disconcertingly, one moment she was in the Sanctum’s cell. The next she was standing in a white room, in a body pretty similar to her natural one, dressed in bog standard western business dress. Opposite her stood a young Asian male, in similar clothing, except he didn’t have a jacket or tie on, and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked busy.
Cov-ooc: “Yo Kafana, what’s up?”
Kafana: “A flaw in the vessel system that is unexpectedly exposing players to non-consensual sexual intimacy. Luckily, there’s an easy fix.”
Cov-ooc: “Ok, I can spare you a few minutes. Give me the details.”
She explained, in as few words as possible, the situation Alderney was in.
Cov-ooc: “Yep, you’re right, that wasn’t intended, and it might expose the parent company to some liability. I’m only telling you this because the system scan of your brain says you are not planning to cause us problems and your focus is on providing a solution, by the way. What’s your proposal?”
Kafana: “Thank you for listening and trusting me. The proposal is in two parts, the general case, and the specific.”
Kafana: “The general fix is to make Vessels sharing this sort of experience a feature that has to be opted into at character creation. By default, Vessels just won’t decide to share it, or it will be nixed by the algorithm that decides which dreams to feature. You can also add an override that detects how a flashback is received to decide whether to repeat it, and whether to select similar ones in future, to catch other sorts of emotional triggers you couldn’t anticipate, such as PTSD or the death of a parent or something. Your company so doesn’t want press headlines about someone committing suicide in arlife immediately after playing Soul Bound, right?”
Cov-ooc: “Right. That sounds workable, and I can hot patch that on the servers immediately. It should be in place within the hour. Hold five minutes, please.”
His avatar froze, and she waited. She flicked her eyes at her portal, and was relieved to see Heather giving her a thumbs up.
Cov-ooc: “Ok, done. And the specific. What to do about Alderney, who has already suffered, I take it?”
Kafana: “Yes. Given the size of company, and the number of expert systems working on this, it is nearly inexcusable that she’s had to go through this. I realise it is only just out of beta and bugs are to be expected and this aspect of the Vessel system is new, but the fix was pretty obvious. You owe her. I’d suggest three things.”
Kafana: “Firstly, a firm guarantee that she can log in from now on without fear.”
Cov-ooc: “She should wait another 57 minutes just to be sure, but after that, yes, I guarantee it.”
Kafana: “Secondly, a sincere apology in person, acknowledging the size of the debt owed. Not officially from the company. Just from the expert system whose responsibility it was to catch this sort of thing.”
Cov-ooc: “Go on.”
Kafana: “Thirdly, talk to her. Ask her what her thoughts are about what should happen. She might ask to just drop it. She might ask the moon. She might ask for a pet kitten. She might ask for the name of a good arlife therapist. She might ask for a donation to a charity. I don’t know, and it isn’t for me to second guess her. You don’t have to agree to do anything she asks, but I do think you owe her at least to listen to her. Fair?”
Cov-ooc: “Fair. And thank you for bringing this to my attention. You really do care about justice, don’t you?”
Kafana: “Damn right.”
*flip*
Heather: “Hot damn, Nadine. You are scary, sometimes.”
Nadine: “What?”
Heather: “Forget it. Time to distract me. I want to stop thinking about this.”
Nadine: “Horror film, or nit-picking arguments on The Burrow?”
Heather: “Both! Let’s start with a George Romero marathon.”
Nadine: “How many times have you seen his living dead films?”
Heather: “Are you counting my annual Halloween all night showings?”
Nadine: “Forget I asked. I’m logging in. I’ve got 1 hour before I go down to entertain for the evening, and you should join me downstairs. There will be lamb, cake and I’ll be playing the violin for all the Kolo dancing.”