Battle Avatars

by Ed White

  Lisa’s chest presses against my bicep as she slips her arm around mine. One breast flattens against me, warm and soft, the other poking against the fall of her shirt. She smiles, and a calm spreads through me.

  We return our attention to Julia.

  “Okay Miss Beechum,” Lisa says. “We’ll wait until you return. It better be good news for David. If your job can make all this, they must have some sorta handle on the way the nervous system works.”

  To my surprise, a small smile sneaks across Julia’s lips. “Both of you put some clothes on.”

  With that, Julia leaves us and we look back to the crowd outside. Stalem stares up at me. I don’t look the same as Jonesy’s guest user avatar now that I’m in my own avatar, but I think Stalem does remember and he recognizes me.

  ***

  There’s a knock at the door and I just about jump out of my pants. Lisa, giggling, draws the sheet off the bed, snapping it free of debris, wrapping it around her like a Roman and calling out to the visitor. The door opens and Shasti enters alongside Julia’s vacated NPC. Shasti turns her nose up at me, passing a new set of clothes to Lisa, as Julia’s NPC presents mine.

  Wilds shirt.

  Wilds pants.

  Wilds boots.

  Wilds set: 50% chance to increase CON/END (stamina) +1.

  In the Wilds, clothing is like armor against the elements.

  Dress like an adventurer to be an adventurer.

  I guess Julia has a thing about what she thinks is my thing with nudity. Maybe she cares after all.

  Shasti points at the hole in the wall. “There are no more rooms available, but there are several crafting players here, so that should be fixed quite quickly.” She smiles at Lisa. “Once you’ve bathed and eaten, we should know more.”

  Lisa turns to me. “Up for a bath?”

  I grin, but Shasti snorts and follows Julia’s NPC out the door.

  Lisa and I look over our new clothes, they appear to be gifts from the real Julia, an upgrade from our dull, drab level one entry level attire. They do say the clothes make the man. I could do with a change.

  We head to the baths walking side by side with a level of familiarity and comfort I’ve never known.

  My parents say that if you have to question what deep love is, you’ve not experienced it. Could I be so lucky to have found it after only a matter of days? My mom knew, the day she saw dad, and she was the one who asked him out. They dated, lived together and finally got married. A few years later, planning out our family, my sis was born. So who am I to question?

  The lavender fragrance of the bath drifts over us adding to my sense of calm. Lisa lets the sheet drop, pulling the shirt off her shoulders, folding both. A twinge of guilt takes hold as I consider what she really looks like outside of the game. Does that matter? Am I a shallow prick?

  Damn, have I become Jonesy? Is that another reason why we grew apart as adults? Different views on life?

  Lisa glides her hand along my chest, settling on the waistline of my pants. She grins, a different smile from her usual, paired with a twinkle in her eye.

  After the damage taken from Sharra’s entry, the bath serves double-duty.

  Bath: bonus to HP

  Restore your health with a soothing bath. Restoring health is essential after a hard day’s adventuring.

  Or a hard night’s “mmm hmm” building up that stamina in constitution.

  “David, whether you quit or if they fire you, there’s no medical treatment. I mean that they won’t give it to you.”

  Settling into the shared bath, I flip my hand. “They haven’t hired me yet, so either way, I won’t have insurance or any hope of being treated by anyone and maybe no one can.”

  Leaning forward, Lisa rests her hand on my knee. “But if you don’t care about that now, then what do you have to lose if they take away the cure or there isn’t one? What’s to stop us warning players?”

  “We’re both obligated by the NDAs we signed to keep our mouths shut. If we talk, they could sue us and I’ll go to jail when I can’t pay.” I answer.

  She leans back, her nipples breaking the surface of the water. “Right, I understand, but if we can help everyone, shouldn’t we tell what we know?”

  What do we know and what evidence is there? “Yes.”

  Tilting her head, Lisa huffs. “Your face doesn’t say ‘yes’.”

  I shrug.

  She raises a finger. “No, it only matters that we sow the seed of doubt.”

  In this guilty-until-proven-guilty world of social media, I can’t disagree with her. What’s evidence got to do with it? I flip my hand. “Just thinking about jail time.”

  “People will be frustrated with all the errors and log outs, but they won’t find a better game out there. They won’t leave unless they have something to fear.” Lisa runs her hands through her hair, causing her breasts to rise.

  I watch and sigh. “Hey everybody, the next game error might kill you.”

  Lisa rolls her eyes and sinks into the water, a moment of silence where I notice l don’t hear the crowds, and she rises from the water like a goddess. She stands there, water running down her body, between her breasts, over her curves and between her legs, the candlelight caught in the droplets.

  “You need a distraction. Time to think.” She cocks her head to the side and wiggles a finger. “Not that sort of distraction, silly.”

  She turns around and lowers herself into the water, one hand in her hair, and soap in the other, sliding back between my legs. “Wash my hair, please.”

  I lather the soap, my fingers gentle on her scalp. “Who programmed all this shit?”

  Lisa slaps the water. “Right? It’s too valuable to them, all the work they’ve put in. They don’t want us to speak up because everything will fall apart. They’ll be bankrupted, lose their government contracts, no astronauts, no virtual combat training. All of it lost in a social media storm of negative crap.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see how there’s a risk to the majority of players. Julia made it clear the risk exists with Dream Walkers playing Lenscape while driving. But who’s at risk sitting at work? How many people agreed to Dream Walking? I don’t see the threat.”

  She leans her head against me and slides her back down my chest. Almost submerged, she peers over her eyebrows at me. “There’s something else going on.”

  I ease my hands over her ears, rubbing with my index finger and thumb along the cartilage, ending with her lobes. She sighs before I dig my thumbs into her neck and base of the skull.

  “Where’d you learn that, Mr. Magic Fingers?”

  “I’m all thumbs.”

  We both laugh at that for a moment.

  “Seriously, what’s the risk, David?”

  “To me or to the players?” Julia clearly believes there’s a threat, but it appears to be a corporate one, a risk to the game and the Conglomerate’s financial future, but human lives?

  “To the players. What’s the company hiding?” Lisa says.

  “Maybe it has more to do with the brain.”

  She giggles.

  “Nervous system stuff. If they can diagnose my illness, there must be a connection to how the game functions. Maybe there’s a risk of, like, psychosis or brain damage. Maybe how we log in can do real damage to the brain and nervous system if there’s a serious error in here, in Lenscape. A serious error might destroy everyone’s brain or nervous system. That’s death right there. Without either one, your body is dead. But we aren’t tech nerds…are you?”

  She laughs. “I work in hotels. That’s how I know Jonesy.”

  Contemplating a life with this woman and what do I know about her?

  “What if the hackers are corporate, not nuisances, hired by a competitor to ruin the Conglomerate? Whoever that is needs to be a big company, with deep pockets. Maybe someone looking for their government contracts.”

  “Galacom is pretty big.” Lisa takes my hands and pulls my arms over her shoulders to embrace her, my hand
s held in hers above her stomach.

  “All too much for me.”

  “Maybe you need that other distraction after all.” She winks at me over her shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The succulent, savory aroma of sausages, bacon and exotic fried meats permeates the tavern and hallways of the second floor, mixed with the sweet, soothing influence of fresh bread. A good idea by the owner as a way to calm the frustrated guests bursting the Wilds Edge beyond capacity. Lisa and I enter the main tavern hall. A standing room only buffet of the inn’s best breakfast offerings spread along end to end oak tables. Sensations course through my mouth, throat and stomach—hunger.

  From the depths of the gathered players, Remy waves to us, pushing through the crowd while maintaining his ninja-like grace. Lisa waves back, pulling me into the crowd. Face mask in place, Remy is immediately recognizable, but only his voice and body language telegraph his mood. He’s clearly a morning person and this is the ass-crack of dawn. I doubt any of us managed to sleep the length required, but Lisa and I benefited from our bath.

  As we emerge from the crowd in the usual corner of the tavern, Kona looks up at us with her usual expression of annoyance. I’ve yet to glimpse the fun-loving woman from Jonesy’s promotional restaurateur pics. Maybe that explains it. We’ve not had a good few days. Guilt flushes through—we’re here because of me.

  My group may be here because of me, but I won’t be responsible for the lives of everyone in Lenscape.

  “Glad you two are here, I’m going to find Mal.” Kona sits at Jonesy’s corner table behind a full assortment from the buffet paired with a number of ales, buttermilk and wines.

  Remy nods to us all and blends into the crowd. I turn away for a moment to address Kona and lose sight of Remy. Is he avoiding us? I still don’t know how he drew Lisa and I into our bodies from the Grey Zone.

  “Uh, where...?”

  Kona points outside, through the wall as she enters the crowd. “Jonesy, Granger and Paul are hashing it out with the leygun ladies. Swear I’m surrounded by keikis.”

  “This is quite a spread.” Lisa swings her arms out.

  “Lolo. Anyway, take care of the table and our eats. I’ll be back when I find Mal.”

  Taking aside two plates, passing one to Lisa, I sample from the meats, finding a few stacks of pancakes, or whatever ancient people called them, and search for syrup. I find it with a number of sauces and gravy in assorted ceramic and shaped stone pots. I stop for the briefest of moments and consider an old story my sister loved, a tale of the Faer Kind, how faeries lured travelers to lavish banquets or the simplest of delights, that once consumed, trapped the traveler and their soul forever within the Faer realms.

  I shiver.

  Lisa glances at me, concern falls over her. “You okay? All this food got your stomach doing flips?”

  “No, just creepy thoughts. Don’t you think it’s weird to drool in a game? This stuff, I’m dying to chow down on it.” I wave my arm in an arc over the delights piled on our corner table. Food for the brain, hopefully not a trap for the soul. “Let’s figure this out.”

  She pushes my plate toward me. “Eat.”

  Bacon.

  All these years avoiding bacon and other fatty foods, steering clear of most nuts, vegetables or tubers with any chemicals that cause gut reactions. It’s a living torture.

  People are fast to suggest the cause of my illness as an allergy to gluten or lactose, well-meaning friends and strangers, but no less frustrating than listening to the excuses of doctors and “specialists”. No one knows, but here in Lenscape, it doesn’t matter. I hope.

  Maybe Julia will return soon with answers. Best to take a moment.

  With one hot piece of bacon from my plate, I consider the consequences: did yesterday’s foods cause my bouts of illness tonight? It could have easily been the fruit from the jungle. How is that possible? Is it all in my mind?

  Juices and flavors release as my teeth sink into the salty, crispness of the meat. A euphoria floods my body, my eyes flutter. If this is just my brain, I’m fine with it. I shiver a little overcome with delight.

  Lisa laughs with her hand to her mouth. “I think I’m jealous.”

  I purse my lips and roll my eyes, taking another bite. “I admit it, you go without the pleasure of your favorite foods and you’ll compare it to sex. Yes ma’am, it’s glorious.”

  Lisa coughs, clearing her throat.

  “Don’t judge me. Sure, I ate some of these things the first morning here at the Wilds Edge. You know what, it felt just as good.”

  “You sure they didn’t make you sick in here? In-game? Maybe Julia was right about at least that being in your head?”

  I shrug. “Don’t see how, unless there’s feedback from my body outside of the game. She said it wasn’t showing signs of distress.”

  Lisa smiles. “We’ll know more when she comes back.”

  I move on to a pile of pancakes and whatever the dark syrup is. Beside the pile of flapjacks are some sort of dense, almost doughy sweet biscuits or scones slathered in thick, glistening butter and jam. The jam is filled with soft, pulpy, mushy portions of fruit.

  “Nom, nom, nom.” I drag the back of my hand across my mouth.

  Lisa giggles.

  I sip at some lukewarm wine and notice clay wine jugs sitting on pans maintaining heat in the assorted small pots. Spiced, slightly sweet, weird, warm wine. Some of the ale is warm too. I prefer the ale with the breakfast meats. Pairing the sausage and bacon with the syrup is heaven, contrasted by the bitter bite of the ale. Lisa watches me with an awed look of contentment.

  I fight to retain focus. “Okay. Back to business. How else might a serious system error threaten players?”

  Lisa slices a sausage in two, places the halves on a broad pancake, and pours gravy and a heaping of scrambled eggs over both. With a large spoon, she finally digs in.

  I savor the tang of the ale.

  “Do you think they’re in our minds?” Gravy drips from her chin.

  “What if our minds are inside the game?” I reach out and wipe the gravy from her chin.

  She catches my finger, winks and sucks on it. “Hmmm, and when a true disconnect happens, our bodies are what, brain dead?”

  I nod. “I think so, something like that, and their Dream Walker system can’t compensate, so maybe Jonesy’s right, it isn’t full artificial intelligence walking us around like automatons.”

  Lisa’s eyebrows scrunch together. “When did he say that?”

  “When I first logged in.”

  Lisa releases my hand. “Oh.”

  “I don’t think it’s an AI. But that sounds to me like they understand the nervous system and have a way to control the body as long as the mind is functioning. Lisa, do you believe in souls? Follow my logic, the brain is still present if we disconnect, but what about our mind, the consciousness of a player? Is it trapped in the game like what we experienced in the Grey Zone?”

  “You mean in real life? Are you talking about TPCs again? I’m not sure about souls as forces of energy, not like in here, in the game lore and skill mechanics. But who are we really?” She slaps her chest. “Are we this, and really”—she waves her hand around—“what is this that we’re in right now?”

  “You know, most of the doctors I’ve seen to diagnose my illness focus on my digestion issues, and suggest it’s all about my endocrine system. But you’re right, while we’re in here, the Conglomerate controls our bodies with our nervous system. They make it out like we are in control, but maybe that’s a big part of their fear—revealing how much control they have.”

  Lisa grunts. “Invasion of the body snatchers.”

  “Invasion. That’s another thing. Julia calls the hackers ‘intruders’. Have you noticed?”

  “Not really. Last night was the longest conversation I’ve had with anyone from the Conglomerate.”

  “That’s right, you don’t live in Connecticut like Jonesy and I. Someone else contacted you
?”

  “No, it was Julia.”

  “Huh. Well anyway, what I mean to say is, who are the intruders? Think about it like a virus. A virus enters the body and the immune system fights back. Look at the game instances, those red quarantine domes. The area becomes inflamed, inflammation sets in.”

  “I think you’re taking the red metaphor too far, but hackers don’t use computer viruses or worms.”

  “Don’t they? If they’re corporate hackers intending to leave something behind, what’s the response? White blood cells—System guardians, Battle Avatars like the red fella outside—fight off intrusions. The intruder doesn’t have to be a hacker, it may manifest…as a distraction!”

  Lisa pulls back her head in surprise, pumping her hands. “Shhh!”

  I clasp my hands around hers, our fingers interlace. “Maybe the attacks are a distraction.”

  Our hands drop as Lisa rounds the end of the table to sit beside me. “For a virus? So you think this is a corporate attack.”

  “I don’t think they’re worried about nuisance hackers and errors they can handle internally.”

  Lisa pulls her plate across the table to her and cuts into a sausage with the end of her spoon. “Okay. So who would fund hackers? Maybe Galacom?”

  “Notice how hard it is to consider the situation we’re in? It’s hard to think about anything other than the game. You have to focus on an idea before it slips away. We’re constantly drawn to gameplay over anything else.”

  She shrugs. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Exactly. Well, gameplay and sex.” I watch Lisa chew, but hear my sister’s voice. Faerie foods make you forget. It’s not my sister’s voice, but paranoia speaking. Julia wants to locate the hackers and yet she knows how the game interferes and prevents us from thinking about anything but the game. And why does the Conglomerate take so long to check in with me? Is that on purpose?

  Lisa cuts off another slice of sausage.

  I lean forward and lower my voice. “I’ve spoken with Julia several times and something has changed. She’s different, concerned. She’s worried about something new on her end.”