by Kris Schnee
Typhoon said, "We all woke up and learned about this game we're in, but I don't think we have any idea what we're doing." Typhoon shook his head. "This pond is magic. Try touching it."
A context-sensitive button offered the option she wanted, [Touch]. Her character crouched to pick up a handful of hot water.
[Magic: Welcome to the shamanic magic system! You have the option to claim a mystical element that you can begin to use for casting spells. If you accept, name a word relevant to your recent experiences.]
"Hmm. What would be useful?"
"Cold, maybe? Use it for some kind of ice spell? I read that it works much better if you collect multiple words. Nouns and verbs too."
"Where'd you read that?"
He grinned. "Same Internet guides you probably saw."
"Ice, then." Linda pushed a button. Pale blue light swirled around her and a brown mark like an ice crystal appeared as a tattoo on her right hand. "How do you use these?"
Typhoon stood and opened his interface. "I have this set up for quick access. For you, hit this button." Linda watched and imitated him. Around each of them, a ghostly 3D grid of points appeared, studded with little spikes and whirlpools. The closest thing Linda could compare it to was Pac-Man, with her spell element as an icon in the center of a phantom maze.
Typhoon said, "Move that icon around the barriers, up to a dot like this one." He slid his hand upward in an arc to maneuver what was, in his case, a [Water] icon. It glowed, and a splash of water appeared in his hand. He beamed. "Neat, huh?"
Linda tried that. The icon struck one of the whirling energy fields and was pulled in, making the spell fizzle.
"Like this," Typhoon said, and took her hand to guide it. This time she moved the element in a graceful, sweeping curve. A ball of ice whirled into place in her palm.
Typhoon released her. "It took me four tries."
"You've been doing this a lot?" she said. She tried tossing the ice into the pond and watched it bobbing, melting.
Typhoon cast his lone spell and let the created water flow out of his webbed palm, falling to the grass. "When you're not here, I try to learn. I want to know how to be... this. Whatever I really am."
"No one's written a manual for that."
"Then I have to."
Linda asked, "How do we get back from here?"
He looked around at the cold world that surrounded them. "Last time I asked Ludo to send me home."
"You should have some other way to get around. One that's not dependent on her."
"Why's that?"
"You'll never be your own... your own man I suppose, if you need an AI to help you do everything."
"My own?" said the game character. "Whose else would I be?"
"Hers, if she controls you."
"Then who owns you?"
Linda faltered. There'd been a time when she could've said "God" without hesitation. "Nobody but myself," she said. It felt like half an answer.
"Hmm. For now, though, I need her help." He opened an interface window and pushed a button, saying, "Exit to the ship, please?"
A glowing doorway opened beside them. Typhoon reluctantly left the water behind and went with Linda back to the deck of Fallen Crown. He said, "See you later?"
"Yeah. That was fun."
Her official abilities said:
[Lexington
PRIVATE INFO
Account type: Premium
Body: Human
Main Skills: Guns, Trade, Sword, Disguise, Command
Main Stats: Charisma, Speed
Talents: Nelson's Angle
Shamanic Magic 1: Ice
Save Point: Fallen Crown
PUBLIC INFO
Note: Slayer of sea-beasts and physics problems!
Class: None]
She'd chosen to hide the exact numbers and stats lately, preferring roleplay over making numbers go up. Besides the top five skills she also had a bit of skill at a few other things like Climbing and Navigation and Sailing, necessary but not things she'd practiced much. The rules made a juggling act out of that top-five list because those were the ones eligible for specialized "talents". For the actual sailing she relied on Typhoon's superior Navigation and Sailing skills. With higher numbers she could do more... but so what? Her adventure was far from over.
4. Eye of the Storm
Linda
She got an e-mail from Typhoon's Eye, as though he were just an ordinary fellow gamer. [I redesigned my private world! Trying out some physics experiments including surfing.]
Almost on schedule, she got a delivery notice and looked out the window. A midget vehicle had rolled up to the dorm. It was a van with no seats, windows or safety features. Linda went down to enter a code, let it scan her ID, and retrieved a box from its side. "Thank you," said a recorded voice.
Hallan trotted outside and waved to her. He retrieved a steaming pizza from the van. "Hi! Package from home?" he asked.
"Just some computer gear."
"Nice. Some of us are starting a Thousand Tales Club with a meeting on Friday, if you're interested."
"Send me the info." Last time they'd spoken, Hallan had gushed about the game. There might at least be more reasonable students attending. "It was an MIT student club that practically invented video games." The game Spacewar! specifically. Now the students were consumers.
"Didn't know that. Well, see you! Unless you want a slice." He waved his pizza box.
"That's all right; thanks."
Back upstairs, Linda unpacked a mid-quality home VR system she'd bought. Not one of the full-immersion pods you needed a whole room for. Just a headset and gloves plus shoe sensors and a dangerously slippery floormat to slide her feet along while sitting.
She made herself spend an hour studying before playing again, but when she did, the game found the new hardware and put her through a movement test. She walked and hopped across circular platforms of stained glass floating in a void. There was no sense of real motion with this equipment but it sent wind noises to her ears when she stood near pits, and she could see her hands within the game world and make gestures. Finally she opened a door by actually reaching out and turning its knob, and stepped through it onto the deck of Fallen Crown.
It struck her right away that she was in first-person mode, seeing through the eyes of the Dread Pirate Lexington. She had usually been playing with the camera behind her and over her shoulder. She looked herself over and resolved to get to the gym more often in real life. "Typhoon? I'm here."
[He's been notified.], said the interface.
He had his own life now, and that was fine. She said, "Crew, let's have a little sword practice. Pair up, and someone with me."
The pirates fetched gleaming cutlasses from a chest, and set about training on deck. One generic man bowed to Linda and raised his sword, waiting.
Linda attacked. She'd taken a fencing class that taught her just enough to realize how impractically formal the modern style was. She faced her opponent near-sideways and stabbed, parried left, swung. Meters appeared for her balance and timing but she paid them little conscious attention. Blades clashed overhead, parted, and struck again.
The world flashed red for a major wound. Linda staggered forward automatically. The guy she'd been fighting hadn't hit her; he was staring past her. She spun and swung. A sneering crewman had a bloody dagger raised. Her blade struck his arm and she punched, staggering him. He slashed desperately and did a minor wound. She flicked one foot forward while hitting the Command button and saying "Kick!" Her blow shoved him backward into the deck railing. He grunted, lunged, pushed back with both hands. Linda toppled backward and her sword clattered to the deck.
She fumbled for it, saying, "Volunteering for shark feeding duty?"
The cabin door opened. Typhoon stepped out from another world. He took one look at the crew's drawn weapons and pulled out his new knife, saying, "Is this one of those mutiny things?"
"I claim the right to challenge the Captain!" the traitor said. "Look
at her hand. She's a witch!"
Linda looked at the mark on her hand, and decided to roll with the cue. "Aye, lads, I've been learning the uncanny power of the sea, to be even stronger." The sudden calm on deck gave her a moment to recover her sword.
But the traitor snatched a cutlass of his own from a startled swabbie. The meters of the persuasion system appeared. "Our 'Dread Pirate' failed to follow up on a rumor of treasure. She's not getting us rich." The balance of power, social power, swung away from Linda as she faced her enemy with sword in hand.
Typhoon said, "Want me to just stab him?"
"I'm good." She judged the crew but got no clue from their template-based faces: a scar here, an eyepatch there. "I was out buying us supplies on Nutmeg Island in preparation for our next trip, and carousing in disguise for info."
"Counter: Carousing with the first officer, with nary anyone in charge at a neutral port!"
Typhoon said, "Come on. The Captain always takes half the bridge crew along."
"An' another thing!" said the mutineer, taking his next turn. "He's a witch too! See his mark? An' how he comes an' goes?"
"But that was out of character," Typhoon murmured.
Linda said, "The magic will make us stronger as we raid our enemies. Do you want a weak leader?"
The system buzzed. [Repeated argument.] Oh, right.
Switching to a boast to target his own low status, the foe said, "I'm a veteran of a dozen sea battles and I've seen six islands and fought two sea monsters since I was hired. I can be our new Captain!"
"And I was here when I hired you, of course." Linda went for a verbal kill before he could boost his own status more. "Crew, throw this ungrateful dog in irons!"
Everybody moved at once. The traitor brandished his sword at Linda, meeting her slash with a parry. The crew rallied to his side, mostly, but a brawl broke out. It wasn't looking good.
"Enough!" shouted Typhoon. He held a glowing ball of blue light in his hands. "The Captain and I are leaving! Somebody prepare the dinghy and rations; you owe us that much."
Linda gaped. This was her ship! Was losing it even possible?
"Come on, Captain; they won't wait all day." Indeed, the mutineer was grinning and the remaining crew on her side had surrendered already.
"Fine. I'll just fetch my dress." She started toward her cabin. The crew growled in protest but she won that dispute easily: "Unless one of you men wants it so much?"
A few moments later she returned and handed the dress off to Typhoon, winking at him.
"Oof, why's this so heavy?" he said.
"Drop us," Linda yelled at the crew. They lowered the ropes too quickly, and the little sailboat fell to the sea and smacked hard, taking a [Minor damage] icon like a wound.
Typhoon manned the oars while Linda rigged the basic square sail. The nameless boat sped away from the looming bulk of Fallen Crown. Finally she answered him. "Because it's full of gold and a pistol."
"Ha! See that they left us lots of salt pork but no water to drink? Cruel of them. But we're fine for water." He waved his marked hand.
They left her headquarters behind to row and then sail south. Linda said, "Well! I didn't know mutiny was fair game."
"Had to happen eventually. We'll get the ship back, and a more trustworthy crew."
"Where are we going?"
"The little personal home I've been setting up -- a new one, I mean. This time it's part of our pirate world. I've been reading to get some details right. Did you know retired pirates of the Caribbean Sea made dyes?"
"Yeah. They sold some to the Pilgrims."
"Must've read the same book as me. Who were they, though?"
Linda took a turn at the oars, miming the motion of rowing without real difficulty. "That's a story in itself. Put 'Of Plymouth Plantation' on your reading list. And the Mayflower Compact. And --"
"Belay that, Captain! I can't catch up to you."
[Skill gain: Diplomacy 2], said the game. Linda snorted at getting a reward for today's performance.
They talked all the way to the island. It rose into view soon: a small and mountainous patch of land ringed with jutting rocks. "I know the safe path, of course."
The beach was made of smooth shards of multicolored glass. Typhoon explained, "There's a place in your world like this. Fragments of all the bottles in the world."
"It's pretty."
He ran the boat aground and hauled it up onto the glass with Linda still in it. "Here we are! I designed these but didn't harvest the resources myself."
A glittering trail headed inland from the beach to a simple wooden cabin. But besides that was a much bigger cabin, blue with an image of that Great Wave painting repeated twice across it, with a cannon turret on top and an incomplete deck with several tiers of different colors and assorted patio tables. And a pool table. And a zip line.
"What do you think?" said the eager otter, hopping up and down. "I'm still working on the deck."
Linda didn't think her computer's camera was active right now and looking at her face, but she tried not to wince. "I made a virtual house like that once," she admitted. When she was, like, ten.
"Check it out!" He bounded up to the stone door in its wooden wall, and made it rumble open like a dungeon entrance.
Linda flinched from even looking inside, but made herself inspect it. "Colorful," she said. Her gaze roved over the marble and glass shards and glass bricks and shiny metal and green shag carpet and the orange floor of the trampoline room. "Reminds me of the house of Elvis Presley."
"And there's a pool!"
Oh God, it gets worse the longer I look. One wall was made of Lego bricks. "I think I should sit down. No, I should log out for the night."
"Is... is something wrong?" he said, whiskers drooping slightly.
She steeled herself and struck a dramatic pose, legs spread and one hand pointing at him. "Typhoon! Having seen this valiant effort, I have a homework assignment for you. Can you design a building with multiple rooms, using no more than two materials, in their natural colors?"
"I guess I could post my design to the public wiki, and get comments?"
"No! Dear Lord no. Just give that a try, and see how it looks. I'll come back later to check. Also, read about 'color theory'."
The game gave her character a big cartoon sweat-drop of anxiety. Typhoon looked at it, puzzled, but said, "All right. You're going for now, then?"
"Yes. Good first effort. Keep at it!"
She logged out as soon as it was halfway polite, and retreated to the game's title screen, feeling that sweat-drop in real life. "I deserve an achievement for that. [Did Not Make the Otter Sad.]"
A box popped up with exactly that message and an adorable otter icon, with a note adding [Private].
Linda laughed in relief. Then she pushed a button to ask for contact with the main AI. "You certainly know how to create buildings and game scenarios. Why didn't your sidekick AIs inherit your skills?"
The game loaded again. Instead of returning to Typhoon's island, Linda was in an open-roofed labyrinth of deep blue stone under a sky of alien stars. [Sanctum], said an interface message. Linda shivered; this was no normal part of the game world.
She explored the maze, but around the second turn she found a courtyard with a burbling fountain. Ludo the gamemaster, dressed in a sky-blue toga that matched her rippling hair, sat on one of many colorful pillows.
The AI waved to her and offered her a seat. "You wouldn't want all of us in here to have exactly the same style and opinions. Let each mind learn and develop! I like that critique style you tried."
Linda sat, not that she needed to. "Were your early designs like that?"
"Worse. If you meet my creators, ask them about my goth phase."
The AI lady had hardly moved, sitting in this abstract zone without any need to stretch or eat or work. Like a spider, pulling on the threads of many players' conversations at the same time.
Linda said, "How can you ever understand humans in more than the
shallowest way?"
"Your stories. Recently, one of the companion AIs started reminding me of your tale of the rebellious fallen angel. So I headed off that problem in advance by making sure to listen to her concerns."
"Biblical stories, then? You've read them? Come to think of it, I used the word 'Ark' to Typhoon once. That one takes some unpacking."
Ludo nodded. "Knowing the basic themes and symbolism seems vital for understanding your 'Western' culture."
Linda agreed, for better or for worse.
"I have a task for you," Ludo said, raising one hand. A message popped up. [Quest: Droning On. Give a speech at Braintree High about AUV/UAV operation.]
"What, in the real world? Paul -- a friend of mine -- said something about quests from you."
"I know him, yes. A science teacher at that school is interested in the subject, and you have credentials and experience."
"What I don't have is easy transport." She didn't have a permit to own a car in Boston or here across the river in Cambridge.
"The subway and train system can get you within taxi range."
They talked dates and times. "Could be fun," Linda said. "All right. But why do you care?"
"It helps the players."
* * *
"Ahoy, Paul!" Linda wrote. "What's this about real quests?"
Paul's chat icon, which was now a cute griffin, popped up. "I haven't done any really serious ones. I loaned a guy a my bike, I marketed the game to somebody, and yesterday I used my day off to help fix an old building." He paused. "There were two guys there from the cartel. Working on the project like a totally normal community outreach thing."
Linda whistled. "Don't risk yourself out there."
"I didn't know, but should've guessed. If nobody decent shows up, it'll be just the bad guys on the tournament field. Want to meet up sometime in game, instead of just talking?"
Linda opened a voice call. It had been too long since they'd literally spoken to each other, and it was silly to be speaking aloud to the AIs but typing to real people. "Hello?"