Part I
A Quiet and Lonely Town
Chapter 1 — The Last Train to Rallsburg
On the last train to Rallsburg, a god and his lover were having a friendly debate.
"Okay, so, check it out. You've got a bunch of people thrown into a game, right? And they have different backgrounds, different nationalities, everything—but once they're playing the game, they're all identical to start. There's no real threat to these people; they all know it's a game. In the game there are tools to work together, and by everyone working together across the entire system they can progress faster and unlock more parts of the game together. The most efficient method is always working together."
"But they don't."
"They don't, yeah, and here's why: they always flock together. They form groups. The groups might be based on what language they speak, or they might have a shared history outside the game, or maybe it's none of the above. But it's still inevitable that every single player—to some degree—will associate themselves with a group. There are no exceptions, except to quit playing the game entirely. You either join a side or you're forced out."
"The groups could still cooperate though."
"Once you're part of a group, anyone not part of your group is a threat. That's buried deep in the lizard brain of humanity. It's pure tribalism, and this particular game gave us a perfect analogy. Allegory?"
"Microcosm."
"Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, logical, friendly people who might have seen through the prisoner's dilemma showed overwhelming loyalty to their group instead of to the collective whole."
"Surely someone found a way to collaborate."
"No! That's what's crazy about it! The different tribes had spies and informants. They'd cannibalize their own members long before giving an inch, despite virtually nothing separating them in the eyes of the game. If you even talked to the enemy, you'd be tracked down and kicked out."
"How could they get anything done if they were that paranoid?"
"Well, it was still a game. The mechanics allowed them to make progress because it was a fair system. In the real world it falls apart. Tribes like that don't survive without trade and cooperation. They die off one way or another. Maybe it's revolution, maybe it's war, or maybe it's just high-minded protest rhetoric, but they stop being tribes. It's all individuals again, but then they build up a new community—now with the faces they excluded from the last time around."
"Maybe at first, but there's always more groups. Layers of groups."
"Yeah, but can you ever really trust someone outside that closest circle?"
"Well, when it's someone you love—"
"That's the greatest folly of the human race. Chemicals in our brains that make emotional connections to outsiders and fool us into trusting them beyond all logical reasoning."
"So you're saying there's no hope."
"I'm saying that if you can detach yourself from all that, you can finally start to see the big picture. Problem is, no one ever can. We're all lonely and desperate to attach ourselves to the first thing that comes along with a smile."
"Speak for yourself."
"Or maybe I'm just the lonely detached soul and I was lucky enough to find you."
"That's cute. Thank god, there's the train station ahead."
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Alden Bensen was only moments away from sleeping through the most important encounter of his entire life.
"Hey."
Alden groaned, turning over in his seat. He just wanted to sleep a little longer. A couple other passengers had been keeping him drifting in and out during the trip with some conversation about games. He never quite made it past snoozing.
"Aren't you getting off here? We're in Rallsburg."
The voice broke through his lethargy, ending any hope of resting further. He spluttered awake, suddenly panicked.
What if the train started off with him still on board? It could take hours and hours to get back here—if he even could. This was the last train out to Rallsburg for the day, if not longer. He'd end up at some dead-end motel out on the coast for the night. Somewhere probably infested with insects, too, and with an owner that was either uncomfortably cheerful or just likely to be an axe murderer.
His eyes slid open to find an attractive young Asian woman, raven haired with a bright streak of electric blue highlight framing the right side of her face. She looked bored and impatient—but then again, she had just taken the time to make sure a complete stranger didn't miss his stop. She was probably worth talking to.
"Thanks," he mumbled, not fully awake yet. Alden struggled to his feet. He felt exhausted, not having slept more than a couple hours in the past day, and those on a rumbling Amtrak through Tacoma to get here. Not the best for relaxation, and Alden had a hard time sleeping under normal conditions.
He glanced out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the town, but all he could see was the small train station. A single employee manned the platform outside, helping the few passengers debarking with their luggage. It was a heavily overcast evening in May, the sun peeking through the clouds at odd intervals, but never long enough to really brighten the day at all.
The station—if he could even call it that—was a single building with a gate on one side, squat and unremarkable. Beyond it grew the trees, state forests that stretched north all the way to the ocean. Already, Alden found them foreboding. The town was surrounded by deep thickets of evergreens, infested with who knew how many species of insect, how many other predatory creatures that wouldn't have a second thought about eating him alive.
With that unsettling notion, Alden decided he could use some friends local to the area.
"What's your name?" Alden started, turning back to the girl, but he was unsurprised to find she was long gone. He'd taken too long to speak up. Still, her face was etched permanently in his mind. He was pretty good with faces, and hers was particularly memorable. He sighed, pulled his bag out of the overhead compartments, and made his way off the train.
What am I supposed to do now?
Alden had arrived in town with only a single clue—a single scrap of paper which pointed him to Rallsburg, Washington. He took it out and examined the front for the thousandth time. He'd kept it in the inside pocket of his coat, not trusting it to leave his side at any time. In his hands he flipped it over, closely scanning every inch of it again just in case he'd missed something—though of course he hadn't. The rumpled envelope was exactly the same as he'd originally found it, plus or minus a few wrinkles from the number of times it had creased within his pocket.
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Alden had a purpose for being in a small, out-of-the-way town like Rallsburg. There was someone he had to find, though he had no idea who that person might be. The only clue was the envelope he now held, with the return address and crest of the local Rallsburg University stamped on the front, along with a cheerful, handwritten "Congratulations!"
He sighed again and put the envelope away. Alden had inspected every inch without any revelations so far; he wasn't likely to discover anything standing around in the train station. On top of which, the tall, thick-muscled and thick-bearded man swathed in a deep coat with his hood drawn currently occupying the bench across the empty street was setting him ill at ease. He could have sworn the man's eyes were following his every step. With great reluctance, Alden approached the clerk working the station counter.
"Excuse me," said Alden, though it really came out more as a mumble.
"Can I help you?" he asked brightly.
Alden recoiled momentarily at the energetic response before gathering his composure. He wasn't awake enough for this yet. He tried again, blinking away his exhaustion as best he could.
"Can you tell me how to get to the college campus?"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite understand you."
Alden cleared his throat and tried to enunciate more clearly. "How can I get to the college from here?"
"Oh, it's just two blocks west and two blocks south. Can't miss it. If you look it up on your phone you should get directions from the first result."
"Err... my phone's dead."
"Oh! Sorry. Well, like I said, just two blocks west and then south."
"Thanks."
Having suffered through a conversation with someone far too energetic for his current state, Alden headed out into the town, bag slung over his shoulder. As he stepped into the street, Alden turned right and started down the quiet road, into the streets of a town fading away into obscurity with every passing moment.
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Four intersections later, Alden felt completely lost. The town wasn't even that large, but he didn't see anything around him which looked like a college campus. He was still in town, so he wasn't completely off the map, but most of the buildings around him were shops of some kind.
Rallsburg seemed deserted. It wasn't that the buildings were falling apart or that he hadn't seen a single person. There were a few large men in thick plaid jackets walking down the street toward him at that moment, though they paid Alden no mind. It was more a faint air of decay that permeated the place. The few proper asphalt streets were cracked, and off them were ill-maintained rocky roads which looked like they'd been clamoring to be paved for decades. Quite a few of the commercial buildings were empty and dusty, as though they'd never seen an owner. There was a restaurant or two dotted among them, with scents wafting out that sent his mouth salivating. His stomach chose that moment to painfully remind him how little he'd eaten since leaving home that morning.
Since I couldn't find the university anyway, why not get a bite to eat? Might clear my head.
Alden closed his eyes and found whichever smell was most appetizing. The scent of french fries was the first to catch his nostrils. He followed it to a single door set into the corner of the next street over, with an old-fashioned wooden sign hanging above the door, a skull and crossbones emblazoned underneath a black kettle.
Next to the door sat a sign in bold red, declaring it off limits to minors at all hours.
Crestfallen, Alden was about to turn away when he heard shouting from just inside the door. He stepped forward, curiosity getting the better of him. A dark shape started to form through the frosted glass inside the door frame.
The shape was moving toward the door.
He threw himself aside at the last second. The wood cracked against the wall as the door swung wide. Someone burst through, crashing to the ground and rolling a few feet before springing to life. In the doorway, a heavyset bouncer stared down at the pair of them with a scowl that could make children weep. He cracked his knuckles threateningly.
Alden held up his hands in surrender. He wasn't part of this fight. More to the point, he was a lanky kid without the muscle to stand his ground. As he glanced over, he recognized the ejected patron. Now that he could see her more clearly (and being much more awake than on the train), she was barely older than he was.
"What gives?" she growled.
Her fierce voice was slightly undermined by the rather plain gray hooded jacket and black denim jeans she was wearing. She didn't look remotely threatening to Alden. The only thing about her clothes that stood out was a curious brown leather bag fastened at her waist, with multiple small, secure pouches and a gold buckle holding the entire thing together. The bouncer—a heavyset man with broad shoulders, rough hands and a cleanly trimmed beard—seemed to agree with Alden's assessment.
"Your ID's a fake," he replied, quite calmly. Alden was taken aback by how soft his voice sounded.
"Bullshit. I'm old enough. Get me something to drink," snapped the girl.
"Just be glad I'm not turning you in. Grow up and come back."
The bouncer went back inside, letting the door swing quietly closed. A string of violent epithets followed him inside as the girl worked through her rage. Alden ignored her, thinking to go find somewhere else to assauge his stomach. While her curses finally died off, he began walking away to find another place to sit down.
"Hold it."
Alden stopped walking, against his better judgment.
"Didn't I just see you on the train?"
"...Yeah."
"Huh. So your first thought was to get drunk too? Good call."
"I'm not—" Alden started, but she interrupted him.
"Come on, we can do better than this hole in the wall."
She took his arm in a gloved hand and started pulling him down the street. Alden dug his heels into the road and managed to hold his place.
"I need to get to the university."
She looked at him curiously. "New student? In May? Everybody's already gone home for summer."
"No. I just need to get there."
"Oookay, fine. It's like four blocks that way." She pointed back toward the train station. Alden glanced down the street back the way he'd come.
"But, at the train station, they said to go west."
She cocked her head slightly. "Yeah, west is that way. Towards the sun." Her brow creased slightly. "You okay?"
Alden shook his head in dismay. Of course he'd turned the wrong direction. He was terrible with directions. Also the outdoors, and a great long list of things he maintained in his mind. People too, if his life were anything to judge by.
"Look, what's your name?"
"Ald—" he started, but cut himself off. "Zack."
"AldZack, eh?" she grinned. A hint of an accent poked through her lips.
"Canadian?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from his slip-up.
"Something like that."
A verbal fencing match seemed like a waste of Alden's time. She seemed too actively hostile to strike up a real conversation with. "Well, thanks," he muttered, turning to head down the street to the university.
"Hey, wait up." The girl fell in step next to him.
"I think I can find it," he said, as kindly as he could. He didn't want to sound rude, not when he still had no clue who she was.
"Just so happens I've got business at the university," she retorted. "Don't worry, kid, you don't have to put up with me long. In the meantime, why don't we walk together? I could use the company."
Alden hesitated, then nodded assent, once more against his instincts. "Sure. Sounds nice."
She was too intriguing to pass up. Hadn't he come here seeking an adventure? Plus, he was eighteen, and a guy, and she was hot. He was doomed by hormones the moment she said a nice word to him, and he knew it.
"Kid?" he asked, feeling a little indignant.
"You're what, eighteen? Makes you three years younger than me," she guessed. He nodded. "So you're definitely a kid to me."
"Thought you weren't old enough to drink," Alden pointed out.
"I am, but I gave him the wrong ID."
"Why have a fake ID if you're already twenty one?"
"Why'd you give me a fake name a few minutes ago?" she shot back.
Alden grinned in spite of his earlier mistake. He hadn't held a conversation with anyone outside his family for this long in ages, and the resurgence of social connection was a grateful reprieve from the headache pounding in his skull and the exhaustion seeping through his muscles.
"So we've both got secrets. I'm gonna do you one better though, no bullshit. My name is Rika," she said.
She took off her glove and offered a hand. He shook it gingerly. Her hand felt like it was buzzing, as if an electric charge surged through her skin. The brief contact made him feel more alive than he had all day.
Rika grinned as he quickly let go. "Well, Zack," she started exaggeratedly. "I dunno about you, but I'm starving. Want to grab a bite to eat before we hit the campus?"
She pointed at a little diner across the street, a low-key place with one blinded window and a sign that had seen better days. He didn't even bother to answer. Rika bolted across the street without even bothering to look for cars—not that Alden had heard a single one since the train pulled away—and through the front door. Alden followed only a few steps behind.