The diner was too hot, but it beat sitting out on the pavement.

Under the guise of free chips and bottomless soda, I’d managed to lure Joey, Annette and Duri from their Tuesday afternoons to meet me here. The plastic booths were sticky, and the screams of kids and toddlers was incessant, but it was the perfect halfway point for the four of us, as it had been since our primary school days.

“So, hang on, you were robbed?” Joey asked. He was knuckle-deep in Stanley’s Sizzling Special Sauce, and he barely finished licking it off before grabbing two new chips and plunging back in.

Annette looked at him like he was a zoo animal.

“Joey, I didn’t complain even when you triple-dipped before, but please, please remind me not to share chips with you ever again.”

“You can get your own if it’s that bad! Ollie’s paying.”

She kicked him under the table, and he shuffled to the window shouting blue murder.

“Oh, toughen up, you’re gunna need it soon. There’s still pain receptors in Blade & Battle, you know.”

“Yes, mom, I do know. That’s why I’m choosing [Brute], and Dad is gunna tell me where to get all the best defensive gear. Ain’t nothing getting close to scratching this delicate skin of mine.”

I chuckled at their in-fighting and slid the remnants of my chips to Annette, and Duri’s too. He’d been working at his family’s restaurant until early that morning, and he was busy catching up on lost sleep in the corner of the booth.

“To answer your question, Joey, I did not get robbed, someone broke in and sabotaged my mom. Tipped her Pod over with her still in it.”

A murmur came from under Duri’s hat. Evidently, he was not asleep just yet.

“Was gunna beat Jori, too.”

Joey tapped a few words into the browser on his Yurt, smearing the glass in the process. He pressed ‘Play’ and then spun the screen around to me, displaying my mom’s ill-fated leap.

Not the most tactful move, but that’s our Joey.

“So at what part of this did she go over? You said you heard a thump upstairs but thought nothing of it? How the hell did they break in through a second-story window?”

Annette whacked him again for his brazen questions, but I didn’t mind the intrusion.

“It was just after she leapt. I think there was a bit of delay for the TV signal and all, but I reckon she was already tipped over when her [Dash] didn’t work. It just took a bit for the tech to breakdown. And as ridiculous as it sounds, they literally used a ladder. Dale had cleaned the gutters the day before and he left it out.”

There was really no point in doing the detective work, but it helped to talk through it and it felt like progress. In truth, the only evidence that the Peacers pulled from the scene was some fingerprints from the shattered glass. The intruder had tossed a rock through the window, then cleared away the sharp remnants and wriggled through. No blood, no hair, no witnesses. They weren’t too confident with the prints, either. Crime just wasn’t that prevalent anymore, and fingerprint databases were largely empty.

“Damn. It sucks man, I dunno what to say.”

“It’s all good, Joey. I just wanted to bury the hatchet and tell you guys that I won’t be in the Fields next year.”

Silence settled over the table like a blanket over a flame. Duri inched his hat away from one eye and squinted at the others, then me. Pity was the last thing I wanted, but it looked like I was going to get it.

“Ollie...” Annette started.

“We could, I dunno, chip in? Maybe? Is that allowed? My dad would—”

I cut Joey off before he could get started.

“No. No guys, you can’t. You’d have a Peacer on your doorstep in days. The world is supposed to work like this, we know that.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t think you were at risk, you know?” Duri exclaimed. “I’m the only one out of us with parents who aren’t Pod-mad. If anyone, it should’ve been me missing out on the Fields.”

“I know. It’s so good that you’re in, though. I don’t want my misfortune to stop us from celebrating that.”

This was how the new ‘system’ worked. How it was supposed to work. Some folks just weren’t fortunate enough to pull together the money for the Elthen Fields Pass, and they got pushed out. Not overtly, of course, but the dismal chances of success anywhere else were well understood. Instead, the unlucky ones were urged to become society’s next generation of farmers, shopkeepers, lawyers, and every other profession required to keep the lights on and food on the table.

Of course, when the Revolution happened, and Blade & Battle was released, these jobs all lost their prestige, despite their necessity. It was hard to attribute much skill or value to them when we had robots doing all the hard work. We went from a society who worshipped the layman and looked down on the gamer to a society who lived to game — or gamed to live. Ask much of the population which is better, and they’ll talk your ear off about how fortunate we are. Others aren’t so sure.

“My dad said I should only do half-days for the first six months anyway. We can still hang out then?”

“Joey, stop mentioning your old man every two seconds. It’s creeping me out how much you talk about him lately.”

“God, Annette, what are you, my wife? My dad’s a good man, get off my back.”

Annette blushed, as she always did when Joey said the W-word or really anything of that nature. I side-eyed Duri and he raised his eyebrows.

“Your free time isn’t the issue, guys, it’s mine. If I want to keep up, I’ll have to be immersed 24/7. I asked Dale if he could set up some kind of food-tube directly into the Pod. He said he did something like that back when he wasn’t a bum, so it’s not a write-off just yet.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Don’t burn out.”

“Yeah, I’ll try not to. I know it’s only a year, but it’s so goddamn important. I don’t see any option except grinding it out and leaving burnout up to the Fates.”

The waiter-bot came over and plonked down a burger that oozed with glorious, heart-clogging oil. Joey eyed it off as I hooked a finger over the basket-edge and slid it my way.

“I didn’t know burgers were on offer!” he complained.

“This is stress-eating man, give me a break. I’ll pawn some off to you if I’m boutta explode.”

It wasn’t out of the question. This was a triple-patty double cheese monstrosity where the only semblance of health was a paper-thin pickle engulfed in mustard and Stanley’s. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put some meat on my stick-limbs before going for long sessions in the Pod, like a bear preparing for winter.

I couldn’t chew and talk, so the onus of conversation went back on the table. Talking about my woes was embarrassing.

“So, Duri, what’ll your parents do without you running the show at Garlic Garters?” Joey asked.

Duri’s parents were old-school. They owned one of the few remaining restaurants where humans cooked and served your food. It operated from early evening to the wee hours of the morning every night, which made Duri’s the best place for sleepovers. We could stay up all night without any risk of getting caught.

“I told them to get a bot. Or two. They said it’d ruin the vibe, but neither of them are getting younger or faster and, without tooting my own horn, replacing me would be tough.”

Joey snorted, but let him continue.

“I think they’ll keep going until Seo-yun is through with her B&B schooling or her saving the world stuff, but we’ll see. Might be best to get to Garlic Garters while it’s still around, eh?”

Annette threw a chip at him. It ricocheted off his hat, skipped into the next booth and landed on someone there. She squeaked and shoved the bowl across to Joey before deciding the coast was clear. Flying chips weren’t unheard of in this place.

“Well now I’m miserable. Thanks, Dooroo. Where will I get my scallion pancakes if Garters closes?”

“I’m sure they’d whip them up here if you asked.”

“I don’t think these bots would know a scallion from a stick of celery.”

Duri smiled, but only just. He was probably fatigued, or apprehensive for ditching the ladle and broom in return for a sword and shield.

With some luck, there’d be a [Chef] class on offer, but something told me he’d be searching for a long time.

I’d made a considerable dent in the fifteen-krad heart-attack, but no matter my desire to pack on the pounds, I couldn’t force down another bite. I signaled to Joey, and he relieved me of the burden, disappearing behind the broad side of the burger while he assessed his prey.

“Sorry to harp on about my issues, but you guys don’t think there’d be any scholarships around, do you?”

Annette laughed. “Ollie, I’m not suggesting anything here, but if I were you, I wouldn’t go hitching my wagon to that star. Remember in eighth grade when you barely scraped by every math test because you refused to use Miss Fadlow’s methods?”

“I still got things right though!”

“Mhm...But you’ve always done things a bit differently to most folk, you know? Scholarship assessors often look for the straight shooter. That’s why I manage to land one every now and then. I’m a square like that.”

She hadn’t meant it to be cruel, but shutting down my final chances wasn’t what I needed at that moment.

“Right. Well, where’s the nearest retirement village? I’ll take my juggling gear and see if I can shmooze my way into an estate or two. Don’t have to be too intelligent to throw balls around and pick up little old Bertie’s dentures, do I?”

By then, it was steamy enough in there to cook a ham. Annette noticed my discomfort, and probably felt bad for telling me how the world worked. Thankfully, she pitched an escape plan.

“You guys wanna go Pod shopping? It's boiling in here and I can't drink bottomless soda fast enough to replace the sweat. Joey, finish that up.”

He saluted and crammed the last morsels into his spare cheek-space. I tapped my card on a passing waiter-bot and we left, venturing out into the fresh air.

It had cooled down as the afternoon turned to evening. Fairy lights twinkled over the stalls and shopfronts that lined the strip, casting their multicolor glow along the path. Across the road, Major Pods dominated the lot, a monolith of floor-to-ceiling glass and blue lights in rigid patterns. The contrast in foot traffic between here and there was what some would call dastardly, and others would call progress.

As cynical as I pretended to be, the sleek building was inviting. Pod shopping brought on a certain satisfaction, and if you were lucky you could slip into the VIP section unnoticed and catch a glimpse of someone who might be someone. The town rumor-mill churned out all sorts of names that had been spotted there, though requests for evidence were frowned upon.

‘Cos livin’ in a shit town is a shit time,’ my dad had said, moments before leaving this ‘shit town’ for the last time.

We walked into Major’s with the same wonderment we always did. Pods sold like hotcakes, which meant their floor stock was constantly changing, resulting in a new experience every time. The talk of the town today was a new release from Todd and Podd, who, despite the homely name, were at the forefront of open-air Pod design. They wanted to do away with clamps and clips and contained spaces in exchange for open-top, lay-down Pods that relied on heavy immersion tactics to keep users from flailing around too much.

Since the Elthen Fields weren’t on offer, I’d have to see what could be done about a brand-spankin' new Pod.

Joey bumped into me part-way through my perusal.

“If I ever see you immersed in one of those, I’ll draw all over you with permanent marker.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Tad pretentious, eh? Though it makes the traditional Pod seem a bit prison-like, right? Imagine walking into a room with no idea what a Pod is. On your left is a line of people laid back in these bad boys, conked out in-game, then on your right is a row of metal boxes that look like the tops of rocket ships. Spooky lights flicker overhead and rats scurry over chipped grey bricks, gnawing at cables.”

Joey screwed up his face. “Fuckin ‘ell, man. Have you considered marketing? Pitch that to Todd and Podd and they might just give you the Fields Pass as a signing bonus. Talk about dark.”

“Sign of the times, man. Sign of the times.”

Duri was scouring the aisles of Pod-Deco while Annette collected brochures for any new tech. In just two short weeks we’d be stepping into Pods for the first time, and she was doing it right. The set-up she had at her parents’ place was more sophisticated than most.

Joey went off to browse while I continued my circuit. The showroom eventually petered out once I made it to the part of the store that couldn’t be seen from the road or front doors. Back here, one could buy overpriced coffee from a crappy old machine or try their hand at a few rigged arcade games before collapsing into the waiting arms of a well-loved couch. I was prone to something I called ‘shopping legs’, so I frequented this area whenever we came here. The rest of them could stand around for hours, but my thighs and glutes ached after one lap of the place.

I sank into the leathery goodness of worn cushions. The zebra-print wallpaper drew my eye, and before long I was imagining a little stick figure hopping along the white sections on the wall. My boredom’s creation took care not to leap into the void of black, though he often found himself dangling over the edge, losing his grip one stick-fingernail at a time until that final slip came.

My imaginary character eventually reached a flood of darkness I called The Void.

In the real world, it was just a curtain.

Above the curtain — sorry, The Void — I read a sign that boosted me from my seat.

Todd & Podd’s Challenge: Winner receives an AT-2000 Cocoon Pod!

Free Entry under 18. One attempt allowed.

Ts & Cs apply.

I re-read the sign, and rejuvenation rushed through me as if my poor luck from the day before had left my soul askew, and now I was undergoing karmic rebalance.

This was providence, and I would seize it by the horns.