Gamers and Gods: AES
Page 48
Even before she saw Manny she knew she had been in the bed too long. Her stomach did more than growl; it roared!
Her father, on the other hand, growled. “Do you know what time it is? You completely missed the dinner rush. Do you think tables clear themselves, or that link beds pay for themselves? Please tell me you were attending a class or studying.”
“I wasn't goofing off,” she said. “I was with a friend who needed me.”
“Worse and worse, it gets,” he commented. “Imaginary boyfriends are not what you need in your life right now. You need to graduate and meet a real mensch. In that order, zeisele.”
“I think this guy is one,” she told him. “But right now he's trying to work through the grieving process. He just found out that his wife is dead.” Oops! She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth. But words cannot be unsaid, once they are said.
Her father closed his eyes and touched his shirt pocket again. She watched his little ritual in silence. He reopened his eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn't mean to–”
“She's not dead,” he told her. “Even if she is, I'll still see her again. One day you'll understand this. Until then, I guess I'm just an old fool to you. But souls exist.”
“I'm beginning to believe that,” she said.
“Then maybe this new fellow's not such a total loss,” he remarked. “Is he a rabbi or, God forbid, a priest?”
“Neither,” she said. “He studied medicine, not theology. But I get the feeling he believes in gods. And funny things happen around him.”
“A doctor, I could accept,” said her father approvingly. “Although you still have to pass courses to graduate. Funny things happening, they won't help your grades. Name one rich clown.”
“Not that kind of funny,” she said absently, remembering the sight of the protruding leg bone. She shuddered. It must have hurt a lot. He could have healed himself instead of me or Sherman. We took damage, sure...but we didn't feel a thing.
“Take my advice,” he said. “Get him to meet you in real life before you get too serious. It's easier to get over someone's flaws if you do it one at a time. Building up an idealized picture of someone only sets you up for disappointment.”
Right. This, from a man holding a torch for twenty years. “What's left to eat?” she asked.
“I saved you a steak,” he offered, going to the sink to wash his hands. “Some lawyer type ordered it well done, then decided he didn't have the time to wait for it. Sit down and get started while I make you a salad to go with it.”
“Dad, have I told you that I love you, today?”
“Sure, just now. But don't think that gets you dessert,” he said, raising an admonishing finger. “I'm too tired from handling the dinner crowd all by myself.”
While she ate, Darla thought about Sherman's suggestion. Power-leveling Aes as a healer wouldn't be enough if he ended up having to fight. He needed attack powers, too. Powers that could hurt the dog-man from a distance. The last thing she wanted him to do was to get within melee distance. Within eating range.
She shuddered again. What is it about getting devoured, she wondered, that makes it worse than mere dismemberment or incineration or a dozen other ways to die? Any way you die, you're dead. But it was worse, silly or not. To become mere food, powerless to stop something bigger from swallowing you. It was a special kind of fear, visceral and primitive. Maybe it went all the way back to the dinosaurs. The little rodent-like quadrupeds that would turn into warriors and scientists and lovers and priests, they weren't worrying about cancer or poverty or lawsuits or traffic accidents. All they worried about was being eaten by bigger critters.
She looked down and realized she had practically inhaled the steak, barely stopping to taste it. At least steak had no feelings, she thought. My mind is wandering again. Forget the steak. What should they do with Aes? If he was going to keep his distance, then he needed ranged attacks or maybe DOTs. Anything that could do some damage while allowing him to stay at a safe distance. She was pretty sure the game wouldn't let him have holds as well as heals.
The problem was, fighting an automated opponent, a NPC like that boss Snarky, was nothing like fighting someone who could think. Plenty of Players who could handle player-vs-environment stuff (like bosses, minions, and monsters) totally sucked at PvP, Player versus Player. NPCs usually had a pattern you could exploit, but other Players could improvise and surprise you.
Whatever Farker said, Am-heh was more like a real Player, like Aes. She couldn't make herself see either one as mere software or viruses. She was drawn to one and repelled from the other in a way no NPC could do, no matter how well rendered or scripted.
She pondered Farker's suggestion that they go to Bushido.
Chapter 41: Farker: catch a falling soul