MetaGame

by Sam Landstrom

  The last statement was a little off topic, but surely no one in the congregation was going to blame him for milking it a bit. It was not every day a player had such a large audience. Besides those in the cathedral, his testimony was streaming live up onto the Cloud. Presently, a green flash in a corner of his consciousness relayed the bounty points streaming in. Just the brand name exposure from the dropping was worth a good fee, but his referrals had already resulted in three orders for the detection software and five for the organic suit. Excellent.

  After a good score, D_Light liked to celebrate in his own quiet way, which was more of a reflection and introspection. And so, without his usual after-service chatter and gossip, he bolted straight to the exit. It was midsummer and the sun beat down mercilessly, but the castle was on the sea where there was always a breeze. Good, salty wind that always gave him a twinge of childhood memory the way that only smells can. He strolled down to the boathouse where he kept his sailboat. The craft was ultralight for her size, so with a little sweat, he was able to slide her out of her cylindrical storage capsule and carry the still folded vessel down to the water’s edge unassisted. Kneeling down, he quickly unfolded the hull, mast, and stabilizers. The components of the vessel snapped into place with a series of unambiguous and satisfying clicks. It was similar to assembling a well-designed kite-a huge, waterborne kite.

  Terralova, as the vessel was called, cut through the waves cleanly. Her hull was bulletproof strong, but ultralight with just the right amount of flexibility to make the best of the liquid terrain. D_Light sat comfortably in his harness, Smorgeous lying on his chest. D_Light did not bother with a harness for the familiar, as he had infallible balance. He looked down at the catlike creature. The outer surface of his body was soft, and his synthetic fur was convincing. His organic computer chips gave off heat, furthering the guise of a mammalian creature. All Smorgeous needed to do to be a perfect cat-machine was to purr, but D_Light prided himself on being too utilitarian to download worthless kitschy software that enabled familiars to do things like purr, meow, or nuzzle.

  D_Light pointed Terralova straight out into the infinite blue. The vessel surged forward as her living filament sails made the most of the wind. It felt like she wanted to get out of there as much as he did. There was the familiar slosh and hiss of the water just beneath coupled with the slight chill as the occasional wave managed to break above his harness and soak his protection suit. No games. He had pulled in enough points today. Just water and sun.

  D_Light did as much of his grinder gaming out on the water as he could. Because of this, he tended to ante into games that did not require his physical presence somewhere, unless that “somewhere” happened to be nearby and accessible by sea. Luckily, most of the grinder games he played involved creating or debugging software, so it could usually be played virtually. Grinder games allowed you to interact with the Game virtually, without having to be there physically. On the other hand, spank games-games designed primarily for entertainment-did not allow this. From the perspective of the Game, sloth was a sin, so if you were going to play a game with no productive value, then the least you could do was work out your body.

  The wind gusted and the roar of the air rushing past his ears drowned out the sound of his breath as he let out a deep, contented sigh. I’m alive and I’m free! The thought was as forced as the smile he coerced onto his face. Real or not, a smile always made him feel a little better. And why shouldn’t he be happy? With his recent score, he could afford to take a few days off-enough time to do some island hopping. There were sideliners on some of the more remote islands. That could be a real vacation, he thought. Log out of the Game and live old-school for a day or two. The sideliners could show me how they do it.

  Master, there is a summons from Mother Lyra Ramanavi.

  D_Light had ordered Smorgeous to hold his calls, but the familiar knew his master would want to take this one. Smorgeous did not fully understand human social hierarchy, but his pattern recognition software was adept at making connections like this. House nobility was a high-priority contact.

  There was no call, just a message. A summoning. Damn! he thought. Anyone else he could blow off, but Mother Lyra was nobility and, as such, was not to be kept waiting. Nor were nobility to be called back. If she had wanted to speak to him remotely, she would have done so.

  Mechanically, D_Light pushed the tiller and, with some readjusting of sails, spun Terralova around and pointed her bow back to the castle.

  D_Light had mixed feelings about meeting with Mother Lyra. On one hand, of all of his mothers, D_Light was most fond of Lyra. First, she liked his work, especially his avatars, so she actually knew who he was. Secondly, on the one occasion they had met, she was kind to him. But what D_Light liked most about Lyra was the sheer magnificence of the woman herself. To say that Lyra was beautiful was a gross understatement. Almost everyone had enough engineering in their line to be easy on the eyes, but Lyra was a step above. Her ancestors were among the last to be engineered before direct modifications to the germ line were banned, post-Bottle Neck. By then, doctors were doing their best work, particularly in the area of physical attractiveness since those attributes were easy to measure and improve. Mother Lyra had inherited the legacy of that final push for perfection, and it showed.

  D_Light had heard Mother Lyra speak several times at annual services, and she had always done so with easy confidence and abundant wit. As a rule, D_Light doubted the merit of nobles, who inherited their titles from birth rather than through the Game. However, Lyra, as soon as she spoke, brushed such prejudices aside as though to say, “You love me because it is right for you to love me.”

  This being the case, D_Light could not help but feel some thrill at being personally summoned by this magnificent woman. Of course, there was the messy business about D_Light having fragged-less than twenty-four hours ago-one of Lyra’s handmaidens. Obviously, the summoning was related to this incident. Although the frag was perfectly legal and done in self-defense, he did not imagine that praise was on this meeting’s agenda.

  CHAPTER 5

  For years video game developers have had psychologists on staff whose sole purpose is to help make their games addictive. And the results are in. Just last week the president of the United States called for a “war on idle distraction.” Indeed, by some estimates, over 16 % of our gross domestic product is piddled away playing games of no economic or social benefit.

  But games needn’t be idle or unproductive. I propose we harness the addictive aspects of entertainment games and apply them in the workplace. Aspects like clear, measurable goals with frequent and tangible rewards, transparent scoring and competition, gradual increase in difficulty of tasks as the player progresses in skill, and so forth. We can build this abstraction over mundane employment using software.

  Until we take the “work” out of work, world labor will not meet its full potential. Making the tools to do this will be a lot of fun…and make us a few bucks!

  — Excerpt from “Introducing the Grinder Game,” as presented by Tyler Alison, Software Developer Conference, 2016

  D_Light scratched the scalp under his thick, dark hair and inquired, “I don’t suppose you saw the archive? You know that she tried to frag me first, right?”

  The guard, who Smorgeous said was named Brian, glared back at D_Light and said nothing. Instead, he tensed his biceps and rolled his shoulders forward, like an animal presenting a threat display.

  D_Light returned a smirk. I can’t let some palace guard intimidate me, he thought.

  Finally, as though he could no longer control himself, Brian hissed back, “I’m sure you deserved getting fragged.” His greenish eyes then twinkled a bit, and a subtle grin spread across his face. “I wish I had been there. Oh yeah,” he exclaimed. He breathed in deeply through his flaring nostrils. “Had I been there, you’d have had to answer to little Tiffany here.” He caressed the hilt of his mace.

  “Seriously? You named your club?” D_Light asked incr
edulously. And then he laughed. “My Soul, you’ve got to be a human! Only a human would name their weapon. A security product would shut up and do their job.”

  “Mmmm.” Brian smiled. “One tiny tap on the skull with Tiffany here and you’d be meowin’ like your little kitty there.” The guard looked down at Smorgeous with disgust. Smorgeous stared back indifferently.

  “Meowing, huh?” D_Light asked as he raised his eyebrows. In response the large guard grabbed the hilt of Tiffany hanging from his belt.

  Why am I provoking this guy? I’m gaining no advantage from this, D_Light thought.

  D_Light took a step back and put up his hands in what he hoped was a diplomatic gesture. “Look, I know I’m enjoying this as much as you are, but I was summoned here by your mistress, so…” He cocked his head, giving the guard an expectant look.

  Brian gave no reaction. He just stared at D_Light as though daring him to take an unauthorized step. The guard was muscular, even for the modern day, and he was wearing a full suit of armor, which for House Tesla guards was a yellow and black skinsuit. The nano-enforced fabric was not much thicker than a normal skinsuit. However, when forcefully struck-say by a weapon-the fabric instantly hardened and then pushed back in the region of impact, counteracting the blow. This guard didn’t adorn his armor with anything. Some guards projected medieval armor or even normal clothes.

  After a few seconds D_Light continued. “Look, brother, you liked Fael? Well, I actually liked her too. A good, sweet, and smart woman. It’s just, you know, during Rule Seven, ShipIt™ happens.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should go flake. Then I could bring the ShipIt™ to you!”

  D_Light knew House Tesla guards were not allowed to participate in Rule Seven. In fact, they could not even be ordered to frag another during Rule Seven unless it was in defense of a client. Due to this restriction, it was common for guards to quit that game and become a flake. A flake was a member of the Tesla family who specialized in Rule Seven. Since a person always took a fifth of the points of anyone he or she fragged, it was just about the fastest way to get points in the Game. Indeed, most flakes didn’t even play other games. They simply trained with their weapons, memorized the labyrinth hallways of the castle, sized up their rivals, and then waited for the siren to sound them into action once again. Appropriately named, flakes were called such because it usually wasn’t long before they were fragged by another flake and ground up into fish food. Since anyone who wasn’t a flake took cover when Rule Seven was in effect, flakes were typically left to hunt down each other. Needless to say, it was a dangerous undertaking.

  Perfect. Now I have this psycho fantasizing about fragging me. Smorgeous, alert me if Brian Roffenbach ever revokes his guard status. His thought was followed by a ping from his familiar.

  Several more minutes passed in silence as D_Light shifted his weight between one leg and the other. Although D_Light was prepared for the worst from this meeting, he decided it was particularly ominous that he was getting flack from the sentries outside the waiting room doors. It’s like I’m wearing a ring of toddler heads tied to my belt, he thought. I mean, who is this guy? I’m not a flake. It’s not like I enjoyed fragging her. Ignorant plebs like that don’t even try to relate to anyone else’s situation.

  D_Light reminded himself that he should not let people get the better of him. Nor should he dwell on the past. He was being soft. Nothing matters but the present. He had Smorgeous repeat this mantra in an infinite loop over the top of one of his favorite songs for such occasions, a peppy little track called “What’s Done Is Gone,” by Real_Deal. He let the custom music wash over him as he let the minutes slip by.

  Finally, without a word, Brian nodded his head toward the doors to indicate that the visitor could enter. Typically, guards opened the doors for visitors, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that Brian would skip this courtesy. D_Light pushed his way through the heavy doors as quickly as possible, brushing against Brian’s shoulder as he passed.

  The doors led to the actual waiting room. It contained no chairs, simply beds canopied with semitransparent curtains of purple and gold. Only one of the dozen beds seemed to harbor a resident, a lump of a man who appeared to be sleeping. Prismatic colors from an unseen source oozed and undulated over the walls, ceiling, and floor. The rays of light also filtered through the gossamer bed curtains, creating a hauntingly beautiful 3-D effect. There was no receptionist here, only a pair of tall and ornate double doors that commanded the wall in front of him. A low, rhythmic hum pulsed all around him. D_Light’s skinning software was not rendering anything, as the room was a designated dark zone-an area where no SkinWare-facilitating nanosites covered the surfaces of anything. D_Light chose a waiting bed and sat on the edge, legs dangling. The softly shifting light patterns, more entrancing than an ancient lava lamp, were as real as the low, rhythmic, pulsating sound that filled the air. Despite his best efforts, D_Light fell fast asleep.

  D_Light woke with a start. “ Haw, haw, haw, ” the SeaGuy™ called out. The seagull-like head was cocked sideways, regarding D_Light with one bulging, pink eye. The torso, pelvis, and legs were those of a nude and impossibly muscular man. Tufts of white feathers interspersed with patches of curly black human hair shot out haphazardly. The ankles of the monster faded into the webbed feet of a seagull. It had great seagull wings in place of arms, which it now splayed out wide. The creature quickly waved its gigantic feathered rear end back and forth a few times, at which point it tipped up its beak and yammered out another call. “ Haw, haw, haw! ”

  D_Light couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the avatar he had designed for Mother Lyra. Man, I really nailed it with this one, he thought.

  “Oh, D_Light, have you any fishies for me?” Blood and orange-colored ooze streamed out of its beak, running down its mottled chest as it spoke. The voice was guttural with raspy undertones.

  D_Light supposed that this bizarre reception was par for the course. Mother Lyra seemed to be one of the few nobles with enough confidence in her position and enough of a sense of humor to not take herself too seriously-or anyone else for that matter. He decided to respond in kind.

  “Um, no fish, but there’s a guard out in the hall you can have.” D_Light jumped out of the waiting room bed and bowed formally to the gigantic holographic birdman. A lynx, which D_Light assumed was Mother Lyra’s familiar, stood only a few paces behind. Certainly, the familiar was projecting the holographic avatar at Lyra’s command.

  With a sweeping motion of one of its wings, the seabird motioned for D_Light to proceed through the double doors ahead, doors that had apparently opened as D_Light slept. He bowed to the beast and passed through the opening into the formal entertaining room.

  The entertaining room was colossal, leading D_Light to the safe conclusion that Mother Lyra must truly be a favorite of House Tesla. A nondescript man was sitting in a chair to D_Light’s left. D_Light did not recognize him, but the man’s crest indicated he was a noble. He stared at D_Light as though he had nothing more interesting to do. D_Light knew better than to stare back at his father. Lyra, pacing back and forth like a caged jaguar, was clearly multitasking, distant and preoccupied, evidenced by her fixed, vacant stare. While D_Light knew that part of her brain was being used to control the birdman avatar, he could only imagine what she was doing with the other part. Whatever it was, however, must have something to do with why he had been summoned here, and that was unsettling to the slightly anxious D_Light.

  The birdman pointed a wing toward some high-backed chairs and ordered D_Light to take a seat in the corner. It then proceeded to hop over to the mute nobleman who still stared meditatively at D_Light, protracted its beak out towards his ear, and did a low haw, haw, haw, each haw repeating in rapid succession like a machine gun. D_Light suppressed a chuckle, intrigued by Lyra’s use of SeaGuy™ for the purpose of taunting. He was also impressed with Lyra’s lynx familiar, how it was capable of projecting its auditory output to seem as though the sound was coming from the bird
beak. Very polished.

  Clearly, the nobleman was doing his best to ignore the persistently irritating avatar, but D_Light imagined the man would grab the birdman by the throat and throttle the life out of its deranged body had the creature been anything more than a projection of light. Of course, if he did lose control and go ballistic on the monster, he wouldn’t be the first human alive to thoughtlessly attack an avatar. D_Light almost wished he would, as it would provide him some much-needed comic relief.

  The birdman, appearing to be bored with tormenting the nobleman, parted with one last goading haw, haw, haw, haw. It then ambled-a combination of hops interlaced with waddling-over to D_Light, its absurdly long penis swaying back and forth as it approached. Upon reaching D_Light, it turned its head so that one devilish eye was facing him, inspecting him with intent. It stood there momentarily and then said, “I’m so rude! I forgot to ask if you wanted a little something to eat. I have these chocolate truffles that are to die for!” It spoke the word “die” with an extra raspy flair. “You must be famished after a long night of snuffing out my handmaidens!”

  Oh, here we go, D_Light thought. I was wondering when she’d cut to the chase. D_Light was not entirely sure how to react to the comment, but he did like chocolate and wasn’t about to screw up that offer. “Yes, please,” he replied with a nod.

  The birdman then took a hop closer, twisting its head and beak around to regard D_Light with its other eye. The creature just stood there, staring at him with an unnerving and unnatural rigidity that D_Light first found discomforting and then amusing. Remembering that he was actually interacting with Mother Lyra via this creature, D_Light decided to return the gaze for a while and then eventually mustered the courage to wink at it playfully.