by Rachel Ford
Migli had taken to singing again, this time about gold, and princesses with hair fair as gold, and suits of mail worth mountains of gold. So Jack scanned the horizon looking for pearls. Or, more specifically, he went looking for oysters. He assumed in-game pearls came into being the same way real-life ones did: in an oyster’s shell. Which meant he needed an oyster.
He found an entire reef of them clinging to a bit of flat rock, half covered in sea water. Soon, the tide would move in and completely submerge them, but for now he could make out the host of little shapes.
Jack grabbed his knife and made his way over the wet, slimy rockface until he reached the edge of the oyster reef. He pried one of the creatures off with the blade of his knife, and then pried it open.
No pearl. He felt a little bad about needlessly killing the thing, until he realized he could harvest oyster meat. Whereupon he didn’t feel bad at all and slipped the meat into his inventory. Indeed, the revelation made him a little more eager to meddle with the oyster reef. He set to work prying them free, checking them for pearls, and harvesting the meat.
He worked his way through seventy-five oysters. He found exactly zero pearls, but he harvested fifteen pounds of oyster meat.
Then he tried to take a step and realized he couldn’t move: he’d run out of carry space. He’d already packed Migli’s inventory with coconuts. The dwarf could carry exactly fifteen pounds, and right now, it was fifteen pounds of coconuts.
He considered his options. He had harvested a lot of food: pork and monkey and demon meat, and coconuts too. Now, he’d added fifteen pounds of oyster meat. Which put him point-two pounds over his carry limit – the weight of exactly one oyster.
He could discard something, of course. But he didn’t want to. Everything he had, he needed, or figured he could use at some point. And he’d spent a long time harvesting his goods. It seemed a shame to waste them.
Then again, the tide was rising, and it would bring sea snakes. And he didn’t want to wind up a sea monster’s dinner. So he sighed and stuck his hand into his inventory pack. Jack withdrew one of his oysters and slipped it into his mouth.
It tasted – well, like a real oyster. He hadn’t even salted it. He smiled to himself. Looks like you missed that one, he thought. The comment was addressed, in his head, to the developers. But he didn’t say it out loud. Not with Jordan – or was it Richard, by now? – monitoring his gameplay. Sure, he was a beta tester. But he’d be damned if he was going to tell them about a bug that made his play more difficult. Not while he was stuck in the game.
In fact, the oyster tasted so good, he grabbed a handful, with the idea of chowing down. Why not? he figured. He hadn’t eaten in hours, and he was at what might as well have been an oyster buffet, after all.
Then, something odd happened. Jack felt his face twitch, first the left side, and then the right. He froze. What the…?
Nothing happened, so he shook his head. “Another glitch, I guess.” He downed a second oyster. It tasted as good as the first, so he followed it up with a third.
A spasm shot through him, from his head to his toes. He frowned. Something wasn’t right. That was too many glitches in a row, even for a Marshfield Studio game. He figured it might be a good idea to check in with Jordan or Richard. He opened his mouth to say, “Speak to supervisor.”
But no sound came out. On the contrary, his jaw just froze. He couldn’t shut it. He couldn’t move at all. He toppled forward face first, unable to stop himself.
A thought ran through his mind.
You have been poisoned. You are paralyzed.
Migli went on singing about riches. Jack tried to call for help, but he still couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even close his mouth or turn his head. His mouth filled with water, and within a minute, Jack had drowned in two and a half inches of water.
He still hadn’t saved – a fact of which he was reminded when he respawned at the foot of the eyrie. “Mothertrucker, you’ve got to be joshing me.”
This time, he didn’t bother with the panther, or its teeth and meat. He went straight for the eyrie and buzzed through the dialogue options as quickly as possible. Jack didn’t choose the nice options this time. He started by asserting Migli’s ancient right over the raptors.
The big bird didn’t take it well. It drew up tall, and said, “The bondage of my people ended with the fall of the dwarves.”
“Fall?” Migli sputtered. “The dwarves have never fallen, you feathered fool.”
Now, Jack had two new options.
Forgive my friend, Lord of the Skies. We mean no offense. But we are pressed for time, as our cause is most urgent.
And,
You heard him, buzzard. Bow to your dwarven overlord.
That was a little too much for Jack. He chose the first option, and the sea raptor nodded. “I accept your apology, human. But tell me, this cause of which you speak…it is the business of the gray beard in the castle?”
“So it was,” Migli answered. “But now it is our business.”
“He was a keeper of the fates of men and elves, and less noble races like yours, dwarf. My fate is not bound to yours, and I have my own responsibilities to attend.” As before, the bird gestured to its eggs.
Jack found himself faced with two vaguely familiar options.
All the creatures of the world are bound in the fate of the dagger. Yours and mine, and Migli’s too.
And,
I’ve no time for cowardice. We must reach the far north. You will take us.
He gritted his teeth and chose the first option. He’d followed similar paths one too many times. He was tired of dialogue, and he was sure as hell not going to go chasing magical gizmos anymore. He’d wasted way too many hours on that already.
The bird considered. “I would sooner cast myself into the sea than bear a dwarf on my back. But Iaxiabor’s deeds live long in the memory of all races, my own included. Your cause I cannot easily ignore. But if I am to consider what you propose, you must first prove yourselves to me.”
Jack glared at the bird, but it kept talking, unsilenced by his frustration. “You must retrieve for me items three: the Ward of the Keeper, in the northern plains; the orcish Staff of Warmth; and a pearl of calming, from the eastern shores.”
“I’m done wasting time.”
“These are my terms, young warrior. Will you accept?”
The same three options flashed through his mind.
I will, Lord of the Skies.
Can’t you do it yourself, you lazy buzzard?
And,
Counter offer: I’ll slip these eggs into my inventory, and if you cooperate, you get them back. If you don’t, I make a nice omelet.
He tried the second one. “Can’t you do it yourself, you lazy buzzard?”
The sea raptor drew up tall and shook its feathers. “You are as insolent as the dwarf. No wonder you can tolerate traveling in his presence.
“But those are my terms. If you will not accept, you can go. Return when you’ve learned a little humility, human.”
Two options floated through his thoughts.
I beg your pardon, Lord of the Skies. I spoke in haste. I will do as you ask.
And,
[Grab an egg] Listen, buzzard, I’m done negotiating. Unless you want me to make an omelet out of this, I recommend you start cooperating.
Jack chose the second option. The game switched to a cinematic. He saw his character lunge for one of the eggs in the nest and hold it up menacingly. The raptor squawked angrily.
“Stay back,” Jack’s character warned. “Now listen here, buzzard: I’m done negotiating. So unless you want me to make an omelet out of Buzzard Jr. here, I recommend you start cooperating.”
The bird fluttered its wings half a beat, then nodded. “Please, do not harm my child. I will do as you ask, only leave the egg here.”
“Oh no. Not a chance. Junior here comes with us, just to make sure you don’t change your mind.”
“If I leave the nest too
long, my children will die. They require me to be in the nest with them, to warm the eggs.”
“Then it would behoove you to make haste.”
The viewpoint panned out, until a wide swath of the island came into view. The bird bowed its head in defeat and ushered them onto its back. Jack climbed on, and then Migli. The raptor spread its wings and lifted off the eyrie.
The trio rose, higher and higher, until the island was little more than a dot on an endless sea behind them. Time lapsed at breakneck speed. Day turned to night, and night to day, five times. Clouds raced by, and islands appeared and disappeared.
Then a great coast came into view, growing larger and larger. The raptor descended until they were perhaps a hundred feet off the ground. The view tightened, until Jack saw the expressions of his own avatar and Migli, and the raptor too. “We have arrived,” the bird said. “Now return my child to me.”
Jack’s character nodded and withdrew the egg from his satchel. “Well done, buzzard.”
The raptor took it in its mouth gently, tenderly, and then transferred it to its talons. “I have kept my word. I have borne you here.”
Jack’s avatar patted the bird. “You did, buzzard. You needed a lesson in manners first, but you did a good job in the end.”
The bird’s eyes flashed. “Now we part.”
“Right. Set us down just there.”
But the raptor didn’t set them down. It rose a little and then dove straight downward and flipped. Jack and Migli tumbled from its back. “Die, vermin. If I had the time, I would kill you myself.”
Then, the cinematic ended. Jack returned to the game tumbling head over heels through the air. He landed on a bit of green, hard and heavy. His health meter plummeted, and a cascade of informational messages passed through his thoughts.
Added to inventory: raptor egg
Removed from inventory: raptor egg
Note: due to your actions, three raptor eggs failed to hatch.
You have lost goodwill among the animal kingdom.
You are reviled by creatures of the air.
Chapter Five
Jack felt bad about that. Indeed, he felt so bad that he opted to speak to a supervisor. He got Richard, the intern. “Yo, Jack, what’s up my man?”
“Hey, Richard, I just…I’m not sure everything’s okay with this game.”
“Oh?”
“Well, my character just killed a bunch of baby eagles, or whatever they’re called.”
Richard laughed. “Oh, you ignored Migli’s warning, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“The song about King Raversen, and how being evil will come back to bite ya.”
Jack frowned. “I wasn’t being evil. I was just tired of running around chasing stupid things. But I didn’t want to kill a bunch of baby birds. I mean, that wasn’t my choice. The game did that on its own.”
“Well, what did you expect was going to happen when you took a momma bird away from its eggs? You didn’t want to get the stuff to keep them alive.” Richard must have shrugged, because the dwarf’s massive shoulders mimicked the action in-game. “For every action there is a consequence. Newton’s second law.”
For a moment, Jack got off track. The error in front of him was just too egregious to ignore. “Third law. And it’s equal and opposite reactions for every action. Not consequences.”
“Same difference.”
“It’s…really not.”
“Right. Anyway, you killed the birds. You can load from your last save, if you want. Or you can live with it.”
Jack thought long and hard. On the one hand, he felt like a coldblooded murderer. On the other hand, he’d be damned if he was going back to that island after getting off. So in the end, he decided to live with it.
Richard laughed and called him a baby bird murderer, and then signed off. Migli returned to his normal self, and the game resumed.
They’d landed, rather brutally, in a grassy clearing on a cliffside overlooking the sea. Jack had had quite enough of the sea, so he turned inland. Before him stretched a great, green country that culminated in bluish white mountains far to the north. A road passed the clearing, and not too far down that road lay a crossroad – with one branch heading inland, toward the mountains, and the other winding its way along the coast.
“If memory serves, Ieon’s Valley should be this way,” Migli said, pointing inland.
Here, though, Jack decided it was time for a nap – a real life nap. His irritation with the island quests he attributed in part to the ever-looming concern of spending the rest of his life stuck in a videogame, but also to a lack of sleep. Even though he was hooked up to a machine and unable to use his body, it was still there. And it still needed all the things a body normally needs: nutrients and hydration and oxygen – and sleep.
So he saved, and then paused and willed himself to sleep. He drifted off to the sounds of the game score and slept for several restful hours. His mood wasn’t much better when he woke, but at least he felt refreshed.
He felt hungry, too. This was one of the psychosomatic responses programmed into the game, that added to its realism – and also made it mildly irritating at times. Even though the food wasn’t real and his body didn’t need it – he was, at the moment, hooked up to a nutrient drip for his sustenance – he felt like he needed it. The longer he went without eating in game, the more acute his feelings of hunger and hangriness.
So he dug through his pack for something to munch on. He hadn’t harvested the oysters or panther meat. That was all still back on the island, along with the extra gold he’d found in the castle. But he still had coconuts and pork – and demon meat too, if he got truly desperate. He opted for the pork.
Then, feeling a little more energetic, he followed the inland road. It wound through meadows and forestland, by shady brooks and through pine groves. Birds sang in the trees overhead, and gentle breezes shifted the branches. The morning grew long before Migli broke from his songs. “Hark to me, I pray thee, Sir Knight.”
“What?”
“If I may beg a moment of thy time, a matter weighs heavily upon my mind. I would hear your counsel on it.”
Which sounded to Jack like the dwarf was asking for his advice about something. His available dialog options seemed to bear out the assumption. He had the choice to say
I’m not a counselor. You want advice, talk to someone who cares.
Or,
Sure, Migli. What’s on your mind?
He chose the latter option, and Migli nodded. “Heavy has been my heart, these last days. The words of the keeper weigh up on it.”
“What words?”
“He spoke of an alliance. He said that we would not defeat Iaxiabor on our own.”
“I remember.”
“He spoke of men and elves and dwarves, of an alliance like the ancients formed when they first defeated him.”
Jack nodded. “Looks like we’ll need some more companions, sooner or later.” He glanced askew at the dwarf. “Hopefully, they’ve got more inventory space than you. And are a little less cowardly.”
Migli ignored his comment. “My heart whispers that this is our destiny, Sir Jack. I am no leader. But thou? Thou art a leader of stout heart and great courage. Thou couldst put together a team to rival any alliance, the mightiest and greatest of heroes. This is thy calling, my friend. I feel it as if the Keeper himself reached across the divide of time and space, and spoke it into mine ears.”
Jack sighed at yet another task the dwarf handed off to him. He was the player, and the main character. So standard game logic dictated that it would be his task. It just seemed to him to be an unfortunate habit on his companion’s part. “Why me? Aren’t you some kind of prince or something? If any of us are going to be a leader, wouldn’t it be you?”
Migli ignored him again. Instead, he thanked him for listening and letting him unburden himself. And he added, “Who knows what the gods have in store, my friend. We are two already, mankind and dwarfkind in common
cause. If the gods will it, we may find more to join our banner before long.”
“That’s great,” Jack said. “But before you start building armies, Migli, don’t forget: we need to find this Ieon guy.”
They did, shortly before the noon hour. The elevation changed rather suddenly, sloping downward at a twenty or twenty-five degree angle. Meanwhile, the mountains seemed to have gotten much closer.
They had to pass through a stretch of forest, but then Jack could see the valley itself. It was nestled at the base of the mountain range. It was a lush, vibrant country, full of every shade of green he’d ever seen, and all manner of colorful, growing things – trees, grasses, flowers and vines, and wildlife too. They passed purple gazelles and ebony black foxes, snow white buffalo and orange rabbits. A lime green canine with yellow spots cantered past, and a big mauve cat watched them lazily from a tree limb.
“What the heck kind of seventies-throwback, LSD-fueled nightmare world is this?” Jack wondered.
Migli had a different take. His voice lowered an octave. “There’s magic in these creatures. I’d stake my beard on it.”
He snorted. “If I had a beard that looked like yours, I’d be willing to lose a bet just to get rid of it.”
“Keep an eye open, Jack, my friend. You never know what to expect with magical folk.”
“I’ll keep them both opened. But magic is a good sign, isn’t it? We want to find the wizard, right?”
“Aye, we need to find the wizard. But that doesn’t make him a friend of ours. Bear that in mind, and we may live through this.”
That, of course, gave Jack pause. He’d been thinking of Ieon as some kind of friendly ally, a Gandalf to his Frodo, or a Merlin to his Arthur. Migli had put a different spin on it entirely. Now, he was thinking along the lines of Morgana or Sauron, and he was jumping at every patch of shadow or rustle of the breeze.
Still, there was nowhere to go but forward, and that’s what he did. The landscape got stranger as they went on. Multi-colored toadstools as tall as a man grew in a grove. Just down the road, a pool of some kind of blue sludge burbled away. A fat brownish-orange frog sat at the banks, catching insects and croaking, or ribbiting, or trilling, whatever it was that frogs did.