Three years ago.

Gustave Holst’s Mars, Bringer of War plays in the background. {Holst, Gustave, composer. I. Mars, Bringer of War, The Planets, 1914-1917.}

Flor walked into a tiny office where Alastair watched the visuals of planetary flybys on a set of computer monitors. He looked comfortable in a relatively new, plush faux leather gamer’s chair. A VR helmet and haptic gloves sit on their chargers off to the side. She watches him for a minute. He looked at a text document on the left screen, picked up a pen, gave it a swirl, and then made a note on a pad of paper to his right. The desk and the chair were secondhand and a good find. The computer setup was brought with them; Flor had a similar setup that was small enough to travel with.

“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” she asks.

He turned, and his eyes lit up as he saw her. He spun the chair and jumped up to squeeze her. “It’s not ideal. The ideal would be for you to stay here with me. I know, I know. We could make it work but then our lives would be static forever, and that isn’t a good way to go about life.”

“It’s the best opportunity for us to get ahead, Alastair. The UBI isn’t enough to do more than merely survive.” {UBI = Universal Basic Income.}

“Well, with the exchange rate and the…the digital nomad visa, we could…”

Flor joined him in a singsong voice, “♩Live quite comfortably without having me be gone.♬” She ceased singing. “Yes, you’ve said before. It sucks that I have to travel. Especially since I have to be gone for three weeks a month. But…” she holds up a finger to stop his counterargument, “but, at least the digital nomad thing worked out and we’re based out of Estonia and I don’t have to travel across the Atlantic to be with you. That was your idea, remember?”

The light in his eyes fell, just a smidge. “Oh, yeah, of course I remember.”

“I’m still surprised you picked Estonia rather than someplace tropical.”

“Estonia was the only digital nomad that didn’t require proof of income. In hindsight, your income might have been sufficient. Although I don’t think it counts as available for digital nomads. We would have had the extra challenge of getting a family visa before you started.”

“We could work that angle again.” The music in the background changed to Venus, the Bringer of Peace.

“You’d still be traveling constantly. Even though we’ve been over this, now that we’re here, I think it’s a good fit. The cost of living is acceptable, public transportation is adequate, the internet is superb and cheap, and the EU privacy laws are great. Yeah, I’ll get cold, but I have plenty of warm clothes. And I’ll take time to learn the language.”

“Okay, okay. Enough. You don’t have to justify it to me. I’m sold. I was sold before about this plan. Perhaps I’m just not sold enough to leave my soul mate for weeks, repeatedly.”

“It’s how we’ll get ahead. We can maintain an easy quality of life and have enough money saved in five or ten years that we’ll be able to buy just about anywhere if we so choose. Maybe that’ll even be here, if we find out we like it enough.”

“We can talk about that down the road. No need for rash decisions.” She saw the screen on the monitor change from mere planetary flybys to a small game title in the corner. “I think your game is ready.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He glanced at the screen, then back at her. “I know it’s relatively boring, but want to help me make my character?”

“Sure. I’ve finished up in the other room and there isn’t anything going on for a while, so I’ll watch you get started.”

He kissed her, then moved to the chair. She moved by him, sitting on the round ottoman kept by the desk. She sat on it occasionally to watch him play.

“Are you going on with the VR and haptics?”

“Yeah, the forums say there are aptitude puzzles at the beginning to best match capability with play style. It’ll still be projected on the monitor, like in Counting Stars. {Counting Stars is a tertiary follow-up to Second Life, the online social area. It allows for full immersion experiences in a player-created, imaginary world without the threat of violence or the need for progression. Alastair and Flor used it as an easy meeting location when Flor traveled previously.} I’ll keep the VR volume down so that I can hear you.”

While Alastair pulled on his gear, Flor leaned in to look at the title. Holst’s Solar Explorer.

“What’s the premise? Space something?”

“Space exploration. Well, more generally, solar system exploration. Maybe other expansions will go beyond the gravity well of sol.”

Alastair finished suiting up. Flor watched the monitor and saw the small title grow larger until it filled the screen. It continued until she was inside the letter ‘H’ of the word "Holst's." The perspective changed to a first-person view of someone walking down a hallway. The hallway ended in a door, and there was a general, unshapen blob of a person sitting in a waiting area.

A person motioned to the indiscreet blob to stand and follow.

“Is there sound, Alastair?”

“Oh, yeah.” Flor watched him pause the game, enter settings, and turn subtitles on. “ I forgot the haptics route sound only to me. I haven’t figured out a workaround to pump them both to me and the speakers. It’s just elevator music and talking, so far. The dude asked if the blob was ready to start aptitude testing.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Alastair unpaused the game. The first-person perspective detached from the first person’s head, floated for a moment, and absorbed into the blob. Now, as the blob, Alistair looked at a man who looked both martial and scientific simultaneously. Alastair’s fingers twitched in the haptics and the blob stood and followed the man. They exited the waiting room via the same door and entered an entirely different hallway. The character on the screen talked while walking.

Man: “I’m Doctor Reinard. I’ll be assisting you with your accession process today.”

Reinard stops before a door.

Reinard: “Although I can look in your file, I’d prefer you say your name out loud so that I can pick up how you prefer to pronounce it.” (Please say the name you wish your character to be called).

“Alastair Nova.”

Reinard: “Good, solid name. Mind if I call you Al?” (Laughs.) “Joke of the trade.”

Reinard opened the door and several technicians walked around with clipboards and robot assistants. Other blobs are at various stations. Some of the blobs have a bit more shape about them.

Reinard: “Let me give you an overview of the process. We’ll run you through a series of aptitude tests to identify a core set of attributes you’ll start with. Then you’ll sit with a career counselor to help you determine how you might best serve our evil overlord. Oops, sorry. Wrong script.” (Laughs.) “After that, we’ll ensure you have the appropriate physical structure to be successful in your endeavors. You can change those factors in the future, but Solar Cell will only pay for one set of modifications. Finally, we’ll set you up with a crew to get you to Luna, and you can choose your destiny from there. Any questions?”

Flor tapped Alastair on the shoulder, then said, “What is Solar Cell?”

He paused the game and said, “The game developer.” He unpaused.

“No questions yet.”

Reinard: “Well, one of our most frequently asked questions is: do I have to go through this process? Can’t you pick for me? Well, Al, let me tell you, it doesn’t usually turn out very pretty. So, since you don’t have questions, let’s get started. Station one is…”

“Wait, one question. How long does the creation process take?”

Reinard: “Oh, good question. We can get you through in about five minutes, but, again, that isn’t very pretty. A full scan may take a couple of hours, but that depends on how specific you want to get with your eyelashes and beauty marks.”

Alastair paused again, “I can save this for later if you want me to. We can go watch something on the TV, instead?”

“It looks like a fun character creator. Take your time, but none of this two-hour crap.”