Straight ahead was another door. I had to assume that went to the social area. On my immediate right was a narrow section with clothes hanging on a rod and folded on shelves. They were all new. My old clothes and personal belongings had to be left behind. Recycled probably. Nothing could go to waste in our world.
Next was the toilet and shower stalls. Then a small table with one chair. That would be my dining area. In the far-right corner was my private kitchen. Clear drawers held refrigerated food and beverages. Above them was a food heating box and a sink. Plates, cups, bowls and silverware were lined up on the wall above those.
I rushed to the sink and quickly grabbed a plastic cup from the wall. As soon as I placed it under the faucet cold water flowed until it was almost full. Holding it in two hands I gulped it down as fast as my dry throat would allow. Examining the kitchen area more closely I saw that there were three sizes of everything except the silverware. The cups made sense to me. The faucet was programmed to run enough water to fill each container. Wasting water was practically a criminal offense in our society.
Some of the drawers were not refrigerated. Those held dry food like crackers and bread. Another box sat beside the cooking cube. It was for cleaning dishes automatically. I had seen them in cafes, but my previous home was not equipped with one. We had to scrub our dirty dishes with special soap and gritty towels.
Overall, my new quarters were nearly as large as my old family home. And it was just for me. No parents. No sisters. Only me. That was a nice upgrade in life. Whether it made up for leaving my friends and family behind remained to be seen.
There was a touchscreen on the kitchen wall, currently blank. Another by the door that I had just entered through from the hallway. Two more on the opposite side of the large room by the bed and exercise area. I nearly jumped when they all sprung to life simultaneously with a chime.
A countdown appeared on all of them. One hour and forty-seven minutes, with seconds dropping at regular intervals.
"What the?" I muttered to myself.
"Your team captain has scheduled your social time," the voice said softly from above.
"Oh, thank you," I said, unable to drop the habit.
"You may want to nourish and clean yourself before that time."
I was certainly hungry. Was I stinky, too? I sniffed my armpit stealthily as if my room computer might laugh at me.
"Yes, I plan to," I replied as I sat my empty cup in the sink. I would clean it along with my plate after I got something to eat.
I tended to talk to myself all my life. My parents discouraged it, and my younger sister even made fun of me for it. But it was just part of who I was. Having this voice answer each time I spoke could be annoying. Then again, with the absence of others, it might be comforting instead. She could be my new best friend.
"Do you have a name?" I asked. Friends had to have names, right?
"I do not," she replied. "A name is not required since I will answer each time you talk. However, if it makes you more comfortable to call me by a name, you may do so."
"What name should I use?"
"That is entirely up to you," the disembodied voice answered. "I have no preference."
I started sliding out drawers to examine my food options. It was a much better selection than I was used to. In fact, I almost never got to choose what to eat. Whatever mom sat on the table or was served in the school cafeteria is what I ate.
While doing that I thought about what to call my new best friend. Should I name her after an old friend? No, that would be too strange. Event weirder than calling her mommy. What about a name based on how she sounded? Friendly? Lovely? Sexy? All those fit her tone and inflection.
"How about I call you Sexy?" I asked the ceiling, mostly in jest. However, if it was just the two of us, what would it matter?
There was a slightly longer pause before she replied. "That may become awkward for you over time, Boone. I encourage you to choose another name. However, I will answer to Sexy when you use it. Obviously. I will answer to any name you call, even if it is a different name each day."
Huh, that was interesting, but not a good way to grow a friendship. Or whatever this connection was developing into. This female voice was going to be an advisor to me, like someone older. Not my age, and certainly not a girlfriend.
"Okay, Sexy," I humored myself. "I'm going to call you Philia. How does that sound?"
Again, a longer than usual pause. "Based on archaic language references the name Philia is a respectable choice. I will answer to Philia. Or Sexy. Or..."
"Okay, Philia," I cut her off. "Teach me how to use this cooking box. And the dishwasher. After that, I'm curious about that big table over by my exercise area."
"That is your recreation table, Boone. It will help train and entertain you during your spare time. You'll have access to your favorite arcade games as well as many new and more challenging games. To operate your thermal food processor..."
I barely paid attention to the cooking instructions as I considered the game table. My very own arcade. Maybe being alone and not having to share was going to be nice after all.
Chapter Four
After my meal and shower I desperately needed a nap. Even though my body lied there dormant while I was in the game, my brain told me that I was tired and sore. That would take some getting used to. However, I decided to forego any sleep so I could check out my new game table.
One touch of the screen brought up a menu. The first option was to play arcade games. Ignoring the other options, I tapped it to look at the list of titles offered. I recognized almost all of them from my rec time as a teenager. I had some favorites with a good solo mode, so I looked forward to playing those. Maybe my scores and characters carried over from my previous life.
Going back to the main menu, I found the second option to be Advanced Games. I was not familiar with any of the titles listed there. I tagged a few of them as favorites based solely on their names and title image. From the looks of it I would have plenty to keep me busy during my alone time.
The third option was to see rankings and statistics. Unfortunately, that selection was locked. Those files had to be regarding my team, the Orange Dragons. Why it was sealed I had no idea.
"Philia, why can't I see the stats for my team?"
"Those records must be opened for you by the team captain," she replied.
Great. While I didn't absolutely need that information, it would be nice to have. During the team social I'd have to bring up the topic. Knowing the strengths and weaknesses of my teammates would help me become a more valuable player.
Next option was Gamer Boone. That was me. Tapping it brought up the next screen without hesitation. At least I wasn't blocked from seeing my own records.
Time in arena was listed at eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds. My average game time was the same since I had only played one game at this point. Level one, of course. No items earned yet. Not even the stupid blunt sword that I begged for. That made sense because I didn't finish the game with it in my possession.
A long list of skills marked zero except one. Agility had me listed at level one. I must have earned that based on my two slightly failed maneuvers. First, crossing the pipe over the small stream. Or at least attempting to do so. Second, jumping from the building to the tree. At least I hadn't blanked the whole round. And I lasted more than ten minutes! My clumsy lack of style was still embarrassing. I was certain my father was being teased about it by his coworkers, but it could have been much worse. Rookies weren’t even supposed to look as good as I did.
There was a maps section that had two categories: Closed Maps, and Next Map. Only the one where I had just recently died was available for my viewing. It showed me the size and terrain of the level, the buildings, the location of the artifact at the beginning of the game, and things like that. Results showed three out of four team members completed the game, but I was the only one to gain any rank ups. That was because the others were already at a much higher l
evel than this game was designed for. The team was only assigned this mission because of me.
Last option was just listed as The World. Inside that category was information about the station that I lived all my life on, the Kylos Magnus. And the planet of Athlios below us. I knew that I would have much to learn about both places since I became an adult. The government limited our studies on both during our teen years, especially regarding the planet. But it wasn't high on my list of priorities at the moment. As a new player I needed to focus on Skotopia and my team.
"Boone," Philia said to get my attention, still using the alluring tone. "The door to the social area will open in ten minutes. You are about to meet your team for the first time. Do you have any questions for me?"
"Yes," I answered excitedly. The records were locked but maybe she could bypass. I wanted to know more about the other members of the Orange Dragons. There had to be a dynamic with the three girls that caused Dashell to get booted off the team instead of Memphis.
Unfortunately, she couldn't tell me much more than I already knew. Their names and ranks mostly. Extraordinarily little useful information. I wasn't really sure what data I was looking for. Just an opportunity to make my first social visit with them go as well as possible.
"Do you not have more details?" I asked the computer that was becoming my companion. "Or is the information sealed?"
"Much of it has been blocked from your access, Boone. I'm sorry that I cannot be of more value to you at this time. However, I can share certain deductions that I have gained from studying the vast amount of information on your squad mates. These conclusions are not factual information, but more like opinions. Therefore, they have not been restricted. Would you like to hear some?"
"Yes, please," I answered as I moved to the comfortable chair. I was giving her my full attention instead of navigating the game table's menus. Computers with opinions was not a concept that I was familiar with, though I was sure there was some artificial intelligence algorithm to explain it.
"Rhese, the captain, is very protective of her team. New recruits are treated harshly until they prove themselves. Otherwise, she does not appear to be overly hateful. She had many friends and a normal childhood before joining the team."
"Like me?" I asked, testing her knowledge of my past.
"No, Boone. She had many more friends than you."
Ouch. Was that necessary?
"Zaya is more of a loner, like you."
A loner? I wasn't a loner. A nerd maybe. Socially challenged, perhaps.
"She has not been close friends with a teammate since she arrived. However, she is considered the most skilled player on the team."
I already knew that, but it did beg the question. Why isn't she the captain instead of Rhese?
"Memphis is the friendliest and is likely to tolerate your presence the quickest."
Tolerate my presence? That didn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy. Who programmed this computer to form these opinions and then present them in such a fashion? There was no malice in her voice, obviously. That did soften the blow a bit.
"Unfortunately, she is the least valuable member of the team. A friendship with her may bring you some comfort in a new place but will hold little value in assisting you to rank up."
That was actually particularly good intel. Harsh, but certainly good to know. I started to form a plan in my mind for this first time that I meet the team. Show respect for all of them, but especially the captain. Befriend Memphis quickly and use that connection to gain information that is currently not available to me.
My wardrobe was limited. Sleep clothes. Exercise clothes. Hook-up clothes and a robe to wear over them. I wish I had that robe when I was being escorted to my quarters. I felt a bit naked, but only the lab coat lady saw me. Then I had the team logo clothes for social visits. That was what I was wearing already. Surprisingly, comfortable plain pants and t-shirt that did not cling to the body like much of clothing designed on our station.
I made a pee while waiting for the door to open. My bladder always attacked me when I was nervous. Then I stood in the middle of my quarters psyching myself up.
"Boone, the door will open in one minute. May I make a suggestion?"
"Yes, Philia. Any help is appreciated."
"I recommend that you pull the front of your team shirt out of the waistband of your underwear."
What? How did I not notice that? I checked the rest of myself over in the mirror by the treadmill. Then I thought back to the game that I had just played. I was sure to get a ribbing about my failures in that level despite how well I believed that I had done in comparison to most rookies.
"Philia? Can you tell me which one shot me in the game?"
A brief pause again. I took that as her searching for information and determining what was permitted for her to say.
"That was Rhese, the team captain."
Chapter Five
The door whisked open to reveal the central area. It was not near as big as I had expected. Social areas in my sector were for parties. They typically held dozens of people comfortably. Obviously, that was not needed in this situation since there were only four people to use the space. Though shaped differently, I visually measured the room to be slightly smaller than my quarters.
Directly outside my door was a lounge section. On the right against the side wall was a light green sofa that ran the full length to the quarters across from mine. A name plate there said Zaya. The door was open like mine, but the young woman was not coming out yet. The couch could seat four people, but there were two more chairs anyway. One on the opposite of my door, and the other directly across from it. Both made with the same subtle green fabric.
To my left was a rectangular table with two benches. One against the side wall, the other with its back toward the room's center. Two more doors were open there. I remembered that Memphis' quarters were beside mine. Directly across from her was Rhese's. The floor was made with the same cushy white tile prevalent in my chambers.
I was the only one entering the socializing space at the moment. Was this another initiation thing? It was tempting to stand in my doorway and wait, but my curiosity was too high. I had just spent several minutes psyching myself up for this visit.
I held off the temptation to peek into the other people's rooms. There wasn't much else to do, so I sat on the couch. It was comfortable, but deeper than usual. It made me lean way back to keep my feet on the ground. It was the type of furniture that invited you to pull your legs up or stretch out like on a bed.
Then I tried the single chair. It was exactly the same as the sofa, only not wide enough to hold more than one person. Still no teammates, so I moseyed over to the table to check it out. Very basic design. A smooth flat white plastic surface that may or may not also function as a media screen. It had rounded corners and edges in light green to match the rest of the room. The heavy plastic benches were stiff but decent for their purpose. In each corner beside the wall mounted bench was a cabinet with a closed door. With nothing else to do, I decided to see what was in there.
"Hello," a female voice side from right beside me as I reached for the cabinet door. She laughed when I jumped from the scare. "I'm Memphis."
She was a good bit shorter than me. Straight brown hair reached her shoulders, medium brown eyes, and friendly smile. Attractive round face with large eyes and lashes to match. In her left hand was a bowl of food. Her right hand was extended toward me, locked at the elbow the way that girls tended to shake hands. She stared at me for a moment, confused by my hesitation.
"Oh, sorry," I said as I reached forward to shake her hand. "I'm Boone."
She slipped by me to sit on her side of the bench that faced the center of the room and promptly began eating without another word. While I was still gawking at her, another teammate entered and slid onto the bench facing the other direction. The one I was standing beside.
Only a couple inches shorter than me, this girl was athletically slender. Straight black hair, thin
face. I could only see her from the side, but she looked pretty, too. In a fierce kind of way. She offered no introduction. After I watched her chew a couple bites of her leafy food, she grumbled at me. "Where's your food, rook?"
"Uh, I already ate," I explained.
"How rude," the newest arrival said.
"Leave him alone, Zaya," Memphis told her. "He didn't know."
Just then the final member walked in and stopped in her tracks staring at me. "Who in the deadly vacuum of space are you?" she asked.
"Uh, I'm Boone," I stuttered. "The new guy."
"Oh, yeah," the new entry replied humorously as she slid onto the bench beside Memphis. "The dead guy."
Gamer 1 - Skotopia: A Gamelit novel for science fiction action fans Page 3