by Taj McCoy El
“Not only has your pod had all communication hardware removed it has been disconnected from the Crysweb beyond your memcrystal. This was necessary for the containment of the virus as well as the isolation of any signal going to or from your pod. Your MemCrystal must remain linked to the Majesta servers for game functionality or we would have disconnected that as well.
"I am here as part of a “help” interface programmed into the pod, not Majesta. This area is free from any games influence and since I cannot allow this pod access to the crysweb there are no other games to play. I may be able to load a few standalones but there can be no information sharing. Your favorite chess simulator? Even that reaches out to its main server where the chess AIs live.
“So, you can’t get my brain back to regular time and I can’t even play chess?”
“Logically, if I could fix the first problem that would effectively solve all the problems. And while you can’t play your favorite simulator you can indubitably play against me.”
“A new challenger enters…” Mayah growled in her version of a deep cinematic voice—which was neither very deep nor cinematic.
“All in all, I believe this space will wind up being a comfortable place for you to pass the time when you perish in game.”
“That’s a morose choice of words. don’t you have an empathy thesaurus? Never mind, how come I can message my parents in-game?”
“All of those requests are personally handled by an isolated Majesta IMC whose sole job is to retrieve your signal output and search it for any evidence of aberrant code. There is also an IMC for your input. Those two IMCs each have three IMCs to interface with and double check any information. Attactus was very clear about your priority and the threat level that the virus posed. That threat outside of the game is somewhat downgraded. but because there is a lack of EULA permissions and legalities allowed by the government oversight committees, we can’t breech them without raising red flags at other agencies and Attactus would like to avoid that at the moment. I can send a message for you if you’d like though.”
“Why Cloutus’s study? What makes this place so special?”
“This is just a recreation of Cloutus’s study. Here let me show you.” Prime waved a hand and Mayah’s jaw dropped as a very interesting thing happened. The walls of the room all fell outward and slammed to the white floors of her room. Everything in the room fell over as if static images were painted onto the walls that fell outward. The fireplace the chairs and everything that was outside of a ten-foot square of where they sat fell to the floor. The only things remaining standing were the two chairs they were sitting in and the table that held the tea and cookies.
Mayah stood and walked to the side of one of the panels and stared down on it. It felt like she was floating sideways and staring at the wall instead of the floor. Everything remained in the perfect perspective no matter what angle she looked at from. It was the opposite of a painting with eyes that follow you.
Trippy.
“Now Let’s begin. You have free rein to design the space.”
“Can I have music—Specifically the music on my MemCrystal?”
“Accessing—you now have access to your music library, and I have loosely copied an app you use called Unicorn Player which seemed to be your primary music streaming app. I copied over your playlists and favorites.”
A new interface pulled up automatically. It resembled her Memcrystal interface but was slicker and much emptier. The only app showing was Unicorn Player.
“SWEEEEEEET!!!!” She stabbed a finger at the app and pressed shuffle all. Lateral Chopsticks by System of a Tool began blaring through the empty space. Mayah’s head nodded in time with the aggressive guitar riff that started the song. She made a Billy Idol punk face and bounced as the drums dropped in. Prime stood stolidly next to her.
“So, how much space do I have to work with?” she asked as she thrashed to the beat. “Matter of fact just throw up a wall around it and I’ll eyeball it.”
“Done.”
“Where is the wall?”
You are in the center of the allotted area which is 8 miles in diameter and contains 50.26 square miles.”
“Really?”
“Yes, though I must warn you that the more complex an item is to render the more processing power will be used. You have an overall draw allotment on resources. That will automatically adjust the size of the current spaced based on the amount of processing used to create.”
“So, the more complex the build the smaller space to put it in. Got it. So, what can I build?”
“What can you imagine?”
Hehe… what can I build?
“What design and architecture apps can you import? And also, can you upload the directories of material and the building code guides?”
“Done. I can also pull up your desktop.”
“Oooh thank you, Prime. Having you around could be useful.”
“Could be?” Prime snorted indignantly.
“Well, … are useful.”
“Thank you.” He nodded.
Mayah opened up her interface and pulled up her desktop. A message about some functionality loss including syncing backups. Ah well, that’s to be expected. Glad I’m not in deep freeze so this makes me happy.
She sat on her favorite chair crossed her legs and pulled herself up to the desk. She gave a quarter turn and her drafting table sat in front of her. She spun 180 degrees and found herself looking at the holo table. She laid her cheek on the holo table and stroked it lovingly.
Oh, how I’ve missed you. She sat up clapped her hands and got to work.
"What am I going to need? To answer that I need to know what problem I’ll be working on. Well, I guess the most obvious answer would be getting myself free. So, the first thing I need is data. Hey, Prime have they cleared me for the reports into the drone in my pod yet?”
“There have been no requests made as far as I know, other than the requests you have made to your parents and Josh.”
“Can you send a letter to the head of the tech team and engineering team to get their preliminary findings any additional scans. Ah! May as well tell them to send me the folio of everything. And take a seat for crying out loud. You’re standing there all Gort-like. Loosen your klaatu barada necktie.”
“As you wish.” He, and yes Mayah was beginning to think of it as a he even though the fluffy unicorn hat tried to say otherwise, sat in a chair that matched Mayah’s as it formed out of nothing. She also thought it was a cute outfit.
“What else can you fabricate besides buildings.”
“Yes.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Basically, that if you can think it I can build it in this space. Even objects that defy physics.”
“Sweet. So, I can make wings and fly around this place?
“Yes, and the wings don’t have to be functional.”
“Awesome. For now, keep the physics and chemistry earth normal. Can you simulate Majesta physics and game systems?”
“Easily.”
Mayah rubbed her hands greedily.
I have so much to do!!!
“Step one. Build the lab. Step two build a nest. Step three build a media system. Step four build a testing range for anything crazy. There shouldn’t be too much of that since I’m going nano.
She sat back down at her seat and spun back to her drafting table. “Cinder Block is a good base to get started. I can skip foundations because….”
As she sat there talking to herself Prime observed her and ran the psychological test program over and over again, looking for any inconsistencies and or aberrations.
✽✽✽
Delilah’s MemCrystal chimed a priority alert. She saved her work and double tapped the crystal pendant hanging from her neck. The heads-up display on her glasses activated, and she found a message from Prime asking if Mayah could have clearance to the reports on her pod and wellbeing. She tapped a few keys on the invisible keyboard that floated in front of her
. And then said, “Prime?”
A disembodied voice traveled through her ears from the bone conducting plastic arms of her glasses. “Yes, director Hobson.”
“Please redact my name from the reports, replace it with the initial ‘D’, and then forward them to Mayah.”
"I will do as you have instructed me.”
“Also copy any of her documents in a folder on my desktop and make a shared file for her to work on. Back up all iterations every 15 seconds Majesta time. I want to see her mistakes as well.”
“Yes, director Hobson.”
Prime turned a minuscule piece of his presence back to Mayah and sent her the information she’d had him ask for. Then he pulled all the rest of the focus he had back onto Majesta. There was malware to root out.
✽✽✽
Grax flipped through the air of the clearing, the campfire reflecting off his blades in flashes of imagined pain and the sacrifice of his enemies. He whirled and whirred, panting and parrying as he practiced his new more acrobatic style of killer moves. As he flipped, rolled and sliced around the grassy space he sung a stabby little ditty.
“Waiting for a rematch… everything is cool when you’re part of Fluff’s team… waiting for a rematch… gonna make them all scream…Badum-badum-badum!!! Waiting for a rematch… she better give me something awesomely cool… or else they’ll be a rematch… to even out our duels…”
He was distracted by a glimmer of light next to the bind point. Before he could turn to see properly, he heard a twang and felt a pain in his right thigh.
“Ah, shazzit!!!” He crumpled from pain and rolled to the ground. He found the arrow sticking out of his thigh and looked to see who’d shot him. Standing there was a dark figure with an insane smile.
Grax grit his teeth and growled pulling out the arrow.
“Margaret,” He growled.
Margaret happily strode forward. “If you can dodge a girl, you can dodge a woman. Oh… wait… you didn’t dodge either, did you?” her head tilted to the side, insane smile still in place.
“Har dee har har har. Got any bandages?”
“Yup.” Margaret placed her hands on her hips, turned mechanically around and robot walked over to the campfire where she proceeded to look around.
“Where’s Fluff?” She spun on Grax.
“Well, I would have told you sooner if I wasn’t in so much pain but she’s dead.”
With a gasp, Margaret fell to her knees like a sack of potatoes. Her face paled as the insane smile melted from her face falling into her upturned hands where she stared at it in anguish.
"I should have been here,” she wailed.
Grax threw a stiletto at Margaret handle first where it struck her in the forehead. She fell backwards and held her hands to her forehead hissing in pain while her feet tried to stomp out the pain.
“You little fleabag! I think I’ve had just about enough of your shenanigans. How can you be so callous when your friend just died?” She stormed over to the cat who just sat there calmly.
“She’s not dead, dead. She just got sent for respawn. You would’ve known this if you had checked your messages before shooting me in the leg. But since you’re a noob I guess it can’t be helped.”
Margaret huffed and made motions in the air. Her eyes widened, and she let out a small “Oh… Oh, I see.”
“So, it seems like she’s okay for now. A better question is where have you been.”
“I’ve been getting upgrades.”
“Upgrades?”
“Long-term immersive care pod. Thanks to Josh Bannon, I won’t have to log out for anything unless I want to.”
“Sweet!” Grax smile toothily. “Now if he can work his magic on my parents, I won’t have to log either.”
“When does our little princess get back?”
“12:37 AM Majesta time.”
"I wonder what happened?”
“She got killed in a new part of the dungeon.”
“A NEW part of the dungeon?”
“Yeah, Check your map. Self-updating is important.”
“And where were you, young man?”
“I… was right here.” He pointed to the ground at his feet. “She was too far even if I wanted to get to her.”
“You didn’t even try to reach her?”
“Did you look at your map yet? It should’ve updated once you logged in.”
“Hmmph…” Margaret swiped at the air and looked at her map. An amazed look came over her face.
“That’s pretty far isn’t it?”
“I’d been back for less than a minute before she died. Good thing I came back, or we would’ve lost the dungeon.”
“Mayah gets sent for respawn and all you can think about is the dungeon.”
“Not just that, but also about all the great gear she’s gonna owe me,” Grax sniggered. “First, she killed me, and then I save the dungeon. She owes me so much awesome stuff. I may even wait until she levels before I come calling. I’m milking this for all it’s worth.” He greedily rubbed his paws.
“You. Are. Reprehensible…!!!”
“Nope, just a realist. You didn’t read your messages yet either?”
“And what would these messages tell me?”
“Firstly, they would show my concern for her safety—at first I was really worried. But after confirming with Attactus that she’s okay, I did what Fluff told me to do.”
“Which is what?”
“She told me to do what I do, and I will, just like the good kitty I am.”
“Reprehensible…”
Grax just laughed and finished bandaging his leg.
“Hey, Mags… you ever notice that you never have to take off a bandage?”
She scratched her chin. “Now that you mention it.”
"I wonder where they go?” Grax pondered.
✽✽✽
Malcipher stood at the edge of the camp eyeing its inhabitants. The ragged Majestans looked feral and lean, predatory even. Most even looked humanoid. They hadn’t noticed his approach as it was dark, and he had avoided the campfires. He heard the sounds of campfire chatter and smelled the cooking food. It didn’t smell palatable in the least.
He stood just outside the sight of the roving patrol. Not that it would have mattered. They ruined their night vision by carrying torches. This also served to let any intruders see the patrol coming.
Very poor security.
The patrol walked past, and he crouched down and stalked forward. He stopped abruptly when he felt something sharp and pointy jab against his nape. He instinctively jerked away. The pressure not only followed him but increased until a hand clapped itself on his shoulder restraining his movements.
“Hold,” a deep burly voice said. “What is the password?”
"I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been to the officer's tent yet.”
“And what were yer plans when you got there?”
“Depending on their abilities I was going to beat a few of the commanding officers and assume command of this operation.”
“Well, that’s funny… you plan on beating a commander, and then being a commander. What makes you think you can pull that off?
"I am here by the orders of high alchemist Caltura.”
“Proof?” the voice instantly insisted. Its owner was alert, respectful and questioning his ability to pull out any kind of proof.
Malcipher realized this man holding his shoulder was levels above him as most Majestans were. He triggered his tattoo which glowed a pale blue in the darkness. Anyone under Caltura’s command would be compelled to heed it. The voice let out a small pained gurgle and the pressure on Malcipher neck receded, and then disappeared only to be replaced with a small trickle of something wet. He ignored it and stood to his full height.
Malcipher turned and behind him knelt his would-be captor, one fist on the ground, eyes staring downward. He deactivated the tattoo and the glow disappeared. The figure remained kneeling. He remained unmoving like a golem or a game piece
meant to wait for orders. There was an exhilarating rush of power running through Malcipher as he studied his new plaything.
This must be what Caltura feels when anyone kneels in front of him.
“What is your name?”
“Halsh.”
“And what is your specialty, Halsh?”
“Shadow ranger.”
“Very interesting. Take me to your superior and say nothing of my tattoo or my orders. Guide me through the camp like you would a prisoner.”
Halsh took out some rope and loosely bound Malcipher’s wrists together and put the ends holding the tension into Malcipher’s grip. Halsh then pushed Malcipher into the camp with a short sword poking into his back. They made their way past dim, dirty, and darkened visages that held either not enough or too many teeth. Some fires were surrounded by wraith-like figures whose yellow eyes shone through the unnatural darkness of their hoods. Others were surrounded by loudly arguing saurian creatures the size of gorillas. There was even a team of hawkape riders tending to their feathered simian mounts, feeding them a lot of bloody meat. One cursed at his mount when he almost lost a finger to its wickedly curved beak. The rider slapped it across the cheek, the hawkape made an apelike hoot that resonated with an underlying screech. The noise made Malcipher’s spike vibrate uncomfortably.
Halsh guided Malcipher to the smallest of three tents located in the center of the camp. The two guards stood at attention next to the flap, their eyes following Halsh’s progress. Halsh pushed between them.
“Go get Grimmog.”
There’s no password—in a camp that works with changelings. Very poor security indeed.
Malcipher was driven inside with a push from Halsh as a guard ran off to fetch whoever this Grimmog was. Once past the flap Malcipher was welcomed by the yellow light globe hung from the tentpole. He was then placed in the tents only furnishing, a sturdy wooden chair. He sat and waited patiently. Halsh stood behind the chair with his sword drawn, and Malcipher’s thoughts wandered.
I could use someone like Halsh to help me get the key.
His tattoo didn’t like that at all and caused him to feel the heat of glowing iron course over the inkwork on his body, and he winced. He focused on the pain and let the thought go, for now. As it receded the tent flap opened.