The hum of the air-shuttle’s engine filled my ears as I soared through the air straight for Montreal. The interior of said air-shuttle was quite spacious, enough for two people to sit comfortably. Leather seats with built in heat and massage settings provided maximum relaxation for up to two people. Relaxation that I took full advantage of, as I had just woken from a nap and the massage was still going. It felt like I had gotten a full night’s rest for just over an hour’s sleep. To be given such luxury and not use it would be wasteful indeed.
Spacious windows provided a line of sight to the vast countryside below and the skies above. It even had a mini-fridge full of various spirits and liquors. The on-board AI in charge of the flight had offered to play my choice of music or a movie at the start, but I declined. I had then poured myself a glass of wine that sounded expensive and tasted faintly of strawberry. After downing my second glass I had decided on taking that nap which I had just awoken from.
Some found auto-driving vehicles rather unsettling, and publicly campaigned against their development. But the majority of those were of the older generation, or hysterics who believed the robots were taking over. It was such a laughable view that it almost made you wish it would happen. I myself preferred the automatic vehicles to the manual ones. Whats not to love about getting to lay back, enjoy the sound of the engine, and stare at the landscape passing by? Or in my case, take a nap while the AI handled the rest.
I shot a quick glance at my reflection in the windows as I gave myself a once-over. That was one downside to this shuttle, no mirrors to make sure I didn’t look terrible for the dinner. Blue eyes stared back into my own in a searching manner as I shifted my focus to my hair. An unruly patch stood straight up as if it were rebelling against the the hair spray I had used before leaving my home. A quick lick of the finger, and a hard press down, brought it back into line amongst the rest of my light brown hair. As I removed my hand from my hair, that same unruly bit pushed itself back up just a bit. Not enough to be noticeable unless you looked straight at it.
“Meh, good enough.” I muttered as I looked down over my black suit, pants, and deep purple tie.
It was a strange feeling, looking at myself wearing a suit I hadn’t worn in four years. Four years since the accident, the funeral, and everything that came after. Four years, and the suit still fit the same as it did back then. Many times I had considered giving it away to others more in need of fine tailoring. I never did though. It was a memento of those dark times, and a reminder that I made it through them.
It was proof that I could persevere. Even when the world itself seemed against me.
“Guess I’m just sentimental.” I smiled at my reflection. It was a nice suit.
“We’ll arrive at our destination in ten minutes.” The AI controlling the shuttle reported in a cheery voice. I grunted in response and closed my eyes to help focus. Here I was, about to meet the head honcho of a rising star company. Many would probably be nervous in such a situation, and rightfully so. Its not everyday you get to dine with a big shot. Those people would be obsessed with making a positive impression upon their host, hoping that a meeting such as this could set them for life. Me, I just wanted answers to a few questions.
“We will now be slowing down on our approach. Please keep your seatbelt fastened at all times during descent.” The AI spoke just as hum of the engine began to subside. Back when these shuttles had first come out, they didn’t have any such warning. Then someone had a heart-attack thinking that the shuttle was going to crash with the engine shutting down. Needless to say, mandatory voiced AIs were quickly implemented.
The relaxing sights of fields of green soon gave way to a forest of concrete with a multitude of other air-shuttles sharing the sky. Far below would be the hustle and bustle of Montreal itself. Horns would blare brazenly into the night as drivers competed for the privilege of getting home a few seconds earlier than each other. Tires would screech as one got too close to another, bumpers would be bumped, arguments would erupt, and life would go on. Except for the times it didn’t.
“I hate cities.” I grumbled as the air-shuttle began to descend into the city proper.
“We will now be landing at your destination. Please remain seated until we have safely landed.”
“Got it.” I responded half-heartedly as I took in the sights. Large buildings arose into the sky as we made our descent into the parking lot of a building only three stories tall. With an audible ‘thunk’, the air-shuttle had landed close to the building where a single woman watched the shuttle I was in, clad in a formal attire. At least I wasn’t over-dressed. With a deep breath, I opened the door.
“James Tiramisu, welcome to Sweettooth Productions Headquarters.” The woman spoke in greeting with an out-stretched hand which I readily shook. The woman from the phone, Christy Horderves. If I were to guess, she looked to be about forty years old, but could have been much older. Age treatment therapy had long since been something that almost everyone had access to. Her white hair had been tied into a professional bun.
“Happy to be here.” I smiled as the handshake ended. “You must be Christy. Glad to finally be able to put a face to the voice on the phone.”
“Likewise.” Christy nodded, then turned and motioned towards the building. “I’m sure you’re interested in touring our facilities, but that can wait until later. For now, we must be on our way. I made reservations at this fantastic restaurant you’re sure to enjoy.” She beamed as she entered the air-shuttle. I followed close behind. We barely had time to finish a single glass of wine before we landed once more. People sat at tables outside a visibly appealing restaurant simply titled Maurice’s.
As soon as we entered the extravagant building, the receptionist instantly recognized Christy and signaled a waiter to take us. With a pair of menu’s in hand, the waiter led us to an outside patio where a few other groups in fine clothing dined and conversed amongst themselves. Our table sat at the far corner of the outdoor dining area. Large hedges with flowers blooming within formed a wall separating the patio from the outside world. The calming tune of a violin melted all worry away as a man deep in concentration played in the center.
“Nice place.” I complimented after the waiter had left to fetch a bottle of wine that Christy had ordered. “You must come here often.”
“As often as I can.” A sighed a content sigh, “Its great to just come here and relax after a day at work.”
“I can see why.” I nodded as I watched the violinist ply his craft. “Is there always live music?”
“Yes, but only during the evenings.”
“Not bad.”
I fingered through the menu as I looked for something that sounded appealing. From seafood to steak, they seemed to have a bit of everything at hand. While I perused the selections, the waiter returned and poured us each a glass of wine before setting the bottle upon the table and readying his pen and pad.
“Are you two ready to order?”
“I’ll have the smoked salmon.” Christy spoke without even having touched the menu once. A true regular.
“And you, sir?”
“I’ll have a steak, medium rare with a side of Caesar salad.”
“Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.” Christy nodded politely and the man retreated. She then turned her eyes to me.
“Well, since our food will be awhile, tell me about yourself James.”
“Whats there to know? I’m just a simple network admin for a local school in upstate New York and I spend my free time avoiding doing anything that may prove to be productive.” She laughed at my candor,
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“What about hopes? Dreams? Aspirations?”
“I wanted to be an astronaut when I was young. The feeling of exploring boundless new frontiers in a space ship and potentially finding new intelligent species of life. Then I found out all exploration is done by robots, so that dream died pretty quickly. I guess best I could do these days is going on a multi-world trip and see Venus and Mars. At least on Mars you can take a buggy out and explore. Can’t do that on Venus, atmosphere is still too acidic.”
“So you’ve been gripped by wanderlust it seems.” She nodded, “I can understand the appeal. Is that why you played my game? The desire to explore the unknown?” I shrugged,
“Thats one reason I play many games. The feeling of exploring new territory and meeting strange and interesting characters. Its like my old dream of exploring the galaxy. And I can do it from my own home.”
“Well then, how about family or relationships?”
“Parents passed a few years ago. No siblings. Had a girlfriend who was more interested in my inheritance than me so I ended that pretty quick.”
“I see, my condolences.” She bowed her head politely.
“Thanks, but no worries. Losing my parents was a rough time, but I’m sure thats the same for everyone. As for the whole girlfriend deal, well, we know theres no such thing as a storybook romance these days. Everyone’s out for something.”
My words seemed to put an end to the conversation as Christy sat there in contemplative silence. I sipped my wine as I leaned back in my chair and glanced around the rest of the occupants in our section. My mother had always called me a people-watcher when we went out for dinner together. It was a habit I had never been able to kick, it was just so interesting watching people. Trying to see their ticks and habits.
“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” Christy spoke from across the table. I shifted my focus and looked her straight in the eyes.
“What’s the deal with Churros’ ending?” She merely smiled at my question.
“Oh? Not about me personally, but the game itself?” I shrugged,
“I already know a fair deal about you.”
“Oh? Then do tell, what do you know about me?” She smiled.
“You’re an only child of an adoptive family who excelled in school. Eventually you went to some college I can’t remember the name of for technology. Again, excelling until you graduated and proceeded to start your own company, Crave Tech Incorporated. Ten years ago you handed over the reigns of that company to start another. Sweettooth Productions in fact. From then on you became reclusive as you hired employees to create your dream augmented-reality game. Now here we are, ten years later, and Siege of Churros has received, praise, critique, and rage of all forms.”
“You’ve certainly done your homework it seems.”
“Its all on your Wikipedia page.” She laughed,
“There is only so much one can learn from that website. Well then, perhaps the answer to your question should wait until the tour of our offices? It’d be such a waste to discuss business here when we could be enjoying dinner instead.” Christy suggested as our waiter returned with our food in hand.
“Fine by me.” I conceded as the aroma of our food invaded my nostrils.
“Excellent!” She beamed, “I assure you, you will find the answer rather interesting.”
“I’ll look forward to it then.”
Dinner seemed to pass rather quickly as we made small talk while we dined. When we had finished our plates, and almost the whole bottle of wine, the waiter returned with the bill. As he left with our plates, Christy put down two hundred-dollar bills and arose from her seat without even checking the bill.
“Shall we take that tour now or tomorrow? I didn’t expect dinner to take as long as it did.” She asked as I got up from my seat. The timer from my implant showed it being five minutes after eight.
“Nows fine. I’m used to staying up late anyways.”
“Likewise.” She commented as we made our way out of the still-packed restaurant.
Lights from the city rushed past our shuttle as we made our way back to Sweettooth Headquarters in the darkness of the night. Christy kept to herself and sat in deep concentration, saying nothing during the ride. Her face betrayed her inner thoughts as she appeared to be considering something. She’d be a horrible poker player.
“Something wrong?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.
“What? Oh no. Nothing…well…” She sighed, “This may sound strange, but have you ever experienced Deja Vu?”
“Of course, hasn’t everyone? Why, you getting a bad case of believing this has all happened before? Its nothing more than a brain hiccup.” She laughed and her face visibly relaxed.
“A brain hiccup? Really?” I shrugged,
“Thats what my friend from school always called it. Kinda stuck when he randomly shouted ‘I’m having a brain hiccup!’ in the middle of class.”
The rest of our ride consisted of Christy uttering ‘brain hiccup’ in-between gasps for breath and bouts of laughter. Even as we landed out front Sweettooth Headquarters, Christy was still doing her best to calm herself. After multiple failed attempts at introducing the company once again, we decided to just head inside and do a tour.
“As you can see, this is our reception room.” Christy managed to say without breaking into a small fit of laughter. A large, welcoming room full of potted plants, comfortable sofas and chairs, as well as a water and coffee machine for guests. A wooden desk sat at the far end of the room where the receptionist would alert the higher ups of arrived guests. A set of doors were marked off to the side of the room as bathrooms. Christy opened the door just past the receptionist desk with a swipe of her ID card that she kept tucked under her suit. “Now, welcome to Sweettooth Productions.”
The first floor of the building consisted of a few large rooms dedicated to game testing and development as well as a cafeteria. Q&A testers would come and go while coders could respond to their feedback and fix any bugs that arose. The second floor however, was filled with various props, models, and artwork of the various races, landscapes, and architecture of the world of Churros.
“What would you say is our product’s strongest and weakest points would be?” Christy asked as we walked through the halls.
“Strongest? I would have to say immersion. Everything felt so real, NPC interactions were spot-on. It almost felt like I was talking to real people at times. As for the weakest, well, it’d probably be the Gobblor invasion.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It happens far too soon for the player to prepare any sort of countermeasure. Even knowing all the events beforehand, a player can only do so much before the world goes to hell in a hand basket. And the Gobblor adapt far too fast. If you so much as use any sort of cavalry against them, even in a skirmish, the next battle they have forks and aim exclusively for the horses instead of the soldiers. Pretty much everything is stacked against the player.”
“Interesting. So you’re saying the difficulty is our weakest point?”
“Yeah, it just seems that the game is pretty much unable to be won. I mean, I made it to what seemed to be the final battle, only for everything to go horribly wrong.” I sighed.
“And why do you want to close the portal? A lot of players fortify at the Puffmallow Kingdom and can hold back the Gobblor indefinitely.”
“Well, unlike the players who only defend the Puffmallow Kingdom, I know that the Gobblor wouldn’t be stopped by their mountains and walls. Stopping them from invading doesn’t mean they’re defeated. I did a play-through defending Puffmallow once. After awhile, the Gobblor stop attacking. And while they don’t attack, they don’t stop building up their forces. I’m sure even Puffmallow’s great wall would be overrun by Breakers and Brutes if given enough time to build up. If those players truly wanted to save Churros, they’d work on closing the Rift. No Rift, no more invaders.”
Together the two of us walked into the elevator that had taken us from the first floor to the second. Christy was about to scan her ID card, but hesitated.
“And what would you need to close the Rift?” She looked at me with a serious look on her face.
“Time mostly.” I stated simply.
“What about five in-game years?” She asked, giving me her full attention.
“That’d be enough for sure.” My mind raced at the possibilities of five years before the Gobblor invaded.
Christy sighed as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders.
“James Tiramisu.” She spoke in a formal tone. “What if I were to tell you Churros is…was…a real place?”
“I’d have to say the wine has finally gotten to you Christy.” I laughed.
“My name is not Christy.” She whispered with a hand held off to the side. A hand where electricity crackled between her fingertips like small snakes made of lightning. Lightning that quickly changed to small beads of flame. Flames that vanished in a puff of smoke to make way for a small globe of water that instantly froze to ice.
“My name is Caramelina. The last survivor of Churros.”
“Wha…” I uttered, unable to comprehend what I just saw.
“James Tiramisu. This entire evening I have been watching you. Judging you. And I have finally decided to answer your question about the ending to The Siege of Churros.” She spoke, drawing my attention from her hand to her face. Fear and anxiety visibly surging through her facial features. Her eyes glistened with syrupy tears as her next words echoed in my mind.
“Will you help me save my world?”