Flor watched Alastair for a couple of hours. The tests took the longest. She watched on the screen as he took a series of tests that looked like middle school algebra and number ledgering, coding familiarity, object manipulation, spatial orientation, English familiarization, and language aptitude. There might have been a few others, but Flor stepped out to grab a beer and bowl of chips.

She returned to find Alistair’s character sitting at a desk with a holographic projection showing his skills on a set of normal curves. He showed roughly average across the board, with a few outliers. Coding and number ledgering were both low, while spatial orientation and object manipulation were on the slightly more right side of the curve. The character behind the holograph shifted the projection to the side.

Quỳnh Vinh: “Do you want more time looking at your profile?”

Alastair shook his head no.

Quỳnh Vinh: “If you’d like to retake a test, I can arrange that. Also, if you think you didn’t understand the instructions for a test, I can arrange for a hands-on example before you retake it.”

“No, I’m accepting my results.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Well, that’s pragmatic of you. Few people score significantly higher on retakes and most decrease. We use the higher score for your aptitude, anyway. So, there are no disqualifying scores here. While I can talk you through the career trajectories, I can highlight a couple that will benefit from your object manipulation and spatial orientation abilities.”

“I’d like to be a miner.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Oh, you already know what you want to do. THAT’s cavalier! But, Miner is also in high demand and turnover. Are you sure you don’t want to check out some other options? I can show you the Skipper pathway, which puts you in line to pilot a ship someday. Or the adventurer’s path, which gives you a general proficiency in all skills plus a fifteen percent decrease in respawn time - you could easily mine on the side as an adventurer.”

“No, my father was a miner, and his father before him. It’s in my blood.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Really? Space mining doesn’t go all that far back.”

“I’m joking. Just a joke. But it is what I want to do.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Okay. Would you like to review the miner career path before we lock that in?”

“Sure, a general overview would be great.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Alright, then.” The test aptitude hologram disappeared and she handed him a transparent sheet with some text and a screen. “We’ll review this and then I’ll answer your questions.”

Alastair picked up the sheet. The screen on the top right started to play what Flor assumed was a voice-over.

Voice: “And so, you’re considering becoming a ‘miner.’ But don’t worry. There aren’t long hard days in the mines on the moons of Jupiter or risk of developing the black lung. Unless you want to…for street cred. Manipulate large contraptions to ensure the safe attachment of mined asteroids to spaceships, join crews in exploring hidden depths for untold riches that only you can extract, or head off for a solitary life of making labyrinths for other players to explore. The ‘miner’ career path benefits object extraction, locking mechanism manipulation, and general drilling. Additional benefits include toughness and strength bonuses. But don’t worry, your costs only include the inability to pilot ships and a minus two penalty in legerdemain. If ‘miner’ is your desired career path, see your career counselor today!”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Alastair handed the sheet back. “Looks good. Let’s do this.”

Quỳnh Vinh: “Well, alright. You have a one-time option to change career paths which expires after thirty days. You’ll incur a fifteen percent penalty for any skills you gained during that time. Solar Cell also allows you to reclass after the thirty-day mark, but your skill penalty increases to fifty percent across the board plus a fee that varies based on how many credits you’ve earned in the game. It’s steep, yes. But there aren’t requirements that you follow your career path. If you choose to become an adventurer, you’re free to do so. Without the class boons. Please indicate you are ready to proceed.”

“Let’s go.”

----------------------------------------

Reinard met Alastair’s blob at the exit of the career selection.

Reinard: “Well, Alastair Nova, miner, level 1. Follow me to the most personal, and painful, portion of our process. I hope you aren’t skittish about needles and drills. If the latter, you’ll make a poor miner.”

Together they entered a sterile operating room. Reinard indicated Alastair should sit in the chair, then restraining bands bound his wrists, ankles, and forehead. After the bands locked in place, the chair reclined backward. Reinard clicked a button and a holograph appeared above him.

Reinard: “Don’t mind the sound of the drills coming from other rooms. Or the screaming that follows it. Nothing to be concerned about. Now, we’ll start with your general height and weight. You’re currently 165 centimeters and just over 72 kilograms. Or eleven and a half stone, if that’s your preferred measure. Are you happy with these measurements?”

“Do they matter?”

Reinard: “Not really. Most space coffins are the same size.”

“You have a bit of a sadistic streak, don’t you?”

Reinard: “If I make you uncomfortable, you may modify it in your settings menu.”

“I’m happy with my size and weight. And your snark.”

Reinard: “Okay. Next skin pigmentation. You have a smoky caramel tone about you. It doesn’t really match your name. Do you want to be lighter, darker, or a different color completely? This also doesn’t affect your in-game performance.”

“Happy as.”

Reinard: “Do you just want to match who you are in real life? I mean, we didn’t need to put you in the chair if that was the case.”

“Well, I hope to do something with my hairline.”

Reinard: “Oh, one of those vanity things, huh? Sure, anything goes, or something specific?”

“Short spiky Mohawk, rainbow-colored, please?”

Reinard: “Coming right up.” He pushed a few buttons on a console and Alastair’s short mess transitioned into a rainbow Mohawk in the display. “Is that adequate?”

“Not digging the rainbow. How about silver?” The display changed again to reflect the update. “Yeah, that’s pretty neat. Before I commit, how do I change this in the future? Sell blood or something?”

Reinard: “Oh, no, hair and body adornments can be altered cosmetically, usually for a small fee. Larger changes, such as bulking up or slimming down can be accomplished through in-game physics. To get shorter or taller, you can lose limbs, or your head, or maybe wear platform shoes or stilts. Other modifications exist in the game, but I’m afraid they aren’t sanctioned by Solar Cell and therefore come with no certainty they will work properly.”

“Oh, in that case, can you add about five kilograms to my mass?”

Reinard pushed a few console buttons and the image changed.

Reinard: “Happy?”

“I’d prefer it in my upper body rather than my belly.”

Reinard: “Fine, fine. But you didn’t specify where the first time.” The image changed again. “Anything else while you’re still in the chair?”

“Maybe. Can you do anything about my manual dexterity or my eyesight? Make it so I can see better in the dark, perhaps?”

Reinard: “Unfortunately those are not authorized modifications here. I can personally make your manual dexterity worse, but it’s painful. Simply, I squeeze your hand until a few of your fingers break, but I doubt that is what you’re after. I’ve heard rumors that mod shops in the great beyond will do wonders with cybernetics. Someday, you may get the stones and cash to add a sixth finger to each hand or replace your eyes with cameras. So, shall we proceed?”

“Proceed with what? I’m happy as is.”

Reinard: “You, sir, are a gelatinous blob. We must impress upon that blob these characteristics which you have selected. So, shall I proceed?”

“Are you sure there isn’t another doctor about?”

Reinard: “All the doctors around here are me. I’m just a construct of the game.”

“Fine. Let’s go ahead.”

Reinard placed something solid in Alastair’s mouth.

Reinard: “Bite down. Good. This won’t take long.”

Flor watched as a mix and match of saws and drill machines protruded from the walls and began moving toward Alastair. The screen went black.