by Natalie Grey
She bit off the words.
“You don’t think what?” Dan asked silkily.
Gracie gave him an unfriendly look and wished he could somehow see it. He couldn’t, of course. He just saw the blank, distant expression of her Aosi avatar.
“I may not agree with everything Harry believes,” Gracie said, “but I don’t disagree with all of it either.”
“You should.” Now Dhruv sounded angry. “He wants to be a dictator. He wants to hold people back from things they need to be allowed to do.”
“Oh, come on.” Gracie rolled her eyes. “There weren’t video games until a couple of decades ago. If people needed to be able to do this, the human race wouldn’t have survived without it.”
Dhruv made an inarticulate noise of anger.
“I’m not saying there should be a dictator,” Gracie told him fiercely. “Harry didn’t think of anyone else as real people. When it came down to it, there was a reason he didn’t have anyone fighting with him. He’d never have been a good leader because he would never have listened to what people actually needed instead of what he thought they needed. He thought he was different from everyone, but he was still the only one who could see how they needed to live their lives. I get that.”
“Then let them live their damned lives!” Dhruv yelled finally. “If you know you can’t decide for them, let them decide for themselves! This isn’t life or death. It isn’t some fucking apocalypse.”
“Dhruv.” Dan’s voice was shaking, and Gracie could feel his tension rising. Dan didn’t like confrontation. He didn’t want to be here.
She had zero sympathy.
“If you weren’t willing to have this out,” she told him sharply, “you shouldn’t have come. You don’t really want to talk about moving forward, you just want—”
The Aosi staggered forward and sprawled onto the ground. Behind him, a wolf bared its teeth and then threw back its head to howl. It was huge, its fur mottled blood-red and rippling in the wind. A hovering sigil over its head identified it as a rare spawn.
“Shit.” Gracie charged into action. “Dan, up! Move!”
Dan sprinted away, and the wolf pursued. Dhruv sprang into motion and landed one punch on it, but he was Level 2, so the damage was laughably low.
Gracie slammed sideways into the wolf, relishing the jolt through her haptics, and drew her sword in one smooth motion. She spun and hacked, her teeth bared in a feral grin.
“Listen up, you fucking psychopath, you lost! This is over!”
“Uh, Callista—” Dan started.
“I will not—” Gracie gritted out, landing a shield bash “—spend the rest of my fucking life—” she landed a less satisfying slash “—looking over my shoulder for you to show up in a dungeon run—” a much more satisfying slash this time “—a random-ass wolf mob—” another shield bash “—OR MY FUCKING APARTMENT!”
The wolf never really stood a chance. She was at a level to be able to take it down, and she was angry as hell. Her health bar was down to one-third and she was panting, but she was still alive when it sprawled at her feet, dead.
Gracie leaned down. “Can you still hear me, motherfucker?”
“Uh. Er.” Dan cleared his throat. “Callista—er, Grace.”
“Gracie,” Gracie said absently.
“Mmm. That’s not Harry.”
Gracie froze. Her head came up, and she looked at the two of them. “What?” she asked finally.
“That’s just…one of the rare wandering spawns,” Dan told her.
“Oh,” Gracie said faintly.
There was a pause, then Dhruv gave a muffled snort of laughter. Gracie felt a bit of annoyance mixed with her hurt pride, but the amusement hit her in the same moment—and it was far stronger. She choked on a laugh of her own, coughed, and pounded her chest.
“Well, then,” she said, after a moment. She knelt to loot the corpse and came up with a single bloody tooth.
“ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED,” announced the pleasant female voice. “WOLF-SLAYER. Ranking points have been added.”
And then all of them were laughing, and they couldn’t stop. It was just too much, Gracie thought, a bit helplessly. She hadn’t even wanted to be here, and every random chance seemed to be pushing her forward. She seized the chances as they came, of course, but it seemed like she couldn’t turn around without tripping over some ranking boost or other.
When they finally stopped laughing, Gracie sighed and looked at the sky. The sun was already dropping again.
“Is that why you brought up the fact that we found you here, not at your house?” Dhruv asked. “Did he actually show up at your place?”
“Yeah.” Gracie gazed at them.
“That, we truly never intended.” Dan’s voice was grave.
“I know.” Gracie hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“I feel like we should have guessed,” Dan said to Dhruv.
“Don’t try to anticipate crazy people,” Gracie advised. “It’ll make you just as crazy.” She shrugged. “Look, I don’t hate you, and I don’t want this to be a fight. But I’m not willing to just forget the past because you want to move forward now. So, how about this: you think about what you want, then come tell me. Until then, I’m going to hold onto this quest.”
She didn’t know how to give it up anyway, but they didn’t have to know that.
They watched her quietly.
“I am not,” Gracie told them starkly, “going to let anyone destroy this game.”
She logged out without waiting for their response.
Chapter Four
Sam pulled into the parking lot of Dragon Soul Productions and turned off the car. He couldn’t quite bring himself to get out, though. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and noticed that he was shaking with adrenaline. He’d never been good in situations like this, and boy, was he in one now.
No, that wasn’t quite right. This hadn’t happened to him. He'd done it to himself. The night before, he had orchestrated a pizza party for the express purpose of distracting Dan and Dhruv. It had worked beautifully.
He hadn’t been sure of that at first, of course. When the two of them took off like bats out of hell, Sam had been frozen in place, unsure if he should run after them. That would have been an undeniable sign of what was happening, and he still wasn’t sure if they’d figured it out.
He hadn’t been sure he’d succeeded until he got a text from Jay a few minutes later.
They took the servers down, but we finished first.
Sam had tried to maintain a facade of normalcy and wound up feeling incredibly ridiculous, wandering around the party with a slice of pizza in one hand and a cup of soda in the other. Waiting to be fired. He’d waited, and he’d waited, and he’d waited some more.
When his shift was over, he had left, half-expecting someone to come running after him.
What did you do when you’d committed a firing offense, and no one had noticed yet?
They’d certainly noticed by now. He opened his car door and sighed. He’d done everything he could, and it was time to face the music. His wife wouldn’t be pleased, but she would understand. She knew that Sam didn’t do things like this without good reason.
And he would be able to find another job.
Still, he was surprised when swiping his badge let him into the building. He stared at the computer for a good five seconds before walking through the turnstile, and when he got to his office, he looked around for booby traps before sitting down.
He glanced at the door. No one was coming down the hallway.
Hmm.
He turned on his computer and opened his email. There was nothing unusual there.
A meeting invite came in with a bloop, and Sam jumped and nearly spilled his coffee down his front. He carefully put the mug on the desk before looking at the meeting invite, but he’d seen the location. His heart was already pounding.
Dan’s office.
He steeled himself to look once more, conf
irmed that the meeting was for right now, and decided to bring his coffee and breakfast sandwich.
If he was getting fired anyway, why not? He took a big bite of his bagel as he walked and washed it down with some coffee. He was really going to miss everyone here, but he was trying not to think about that.
And then he walked into Dan’s office—to see Jay.
“Thay?” he managed through a mouthful of bagel.
Jay had been engaged in a stare-off with Dhruv, but he looked around at this. “Sam.”
Sam swallowed hastily. “Hi.” He set his food down on the table and reached out to shake Jay’s hand, then changed his mind and hugged him. “How have you been?”
“Good.” Jay gave a wary look at the other two. “So, uh…”
“Yes,” Dan said. “Please, sit.” He shot a look at Dhruv, which Sam identified as the same one he gave his four-year-old when she had a crayon in one hand and a nice, blank expanse of wall in front of her. “Don’t you dare.”
Sam glanced at Dan, who looked equably back. Dan was well over thirty and eternally sleep-deprived, but he somehow managed to look fresh-faced, like a rumpled college student who had never quite learned how to use a comb.
Dan looked at Jay. “Last night, Sam asked to speak to me about you. About bringing you back on board.”
Sam froze. Oh, no. He had in fact done that, but he had done so as part of the distraction. When Jay shot a look at him, he took a big bite of his bagel instead of looking back.
“He made several compelling points,” Dan continued, seeing that Sam did not seem inclined to pick up the thread of conversation. “Your record was incredibly good, and you consistently received high review scores as a manager. In similar situations, there is usually a pattern of problems, but there was not one here.”
He paused, perhaps waiting for a response from Jay.
Jay looked at Sam, however. “You…didn’t mention this to me.”
“I didn’t want to promise anything,” Sam mumbled. It held together as an excuse.
Dan nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you came to us first. It was a trying night.”
Now they had come to it. Sam sat up warily.
“As you are almost certainly aware,” Dan said to Sam, “and as you are, of course, fully aware,” a pointed look at Jay, “Callista finished Harry’s embedded quest last night.”
“Mmm,” Sam managed. “Yes, I saw there was a server outage?”
Dan’s expression flickered slightly. “Yes,” he said, but did not elaborate. He gazed at Jay for a long moment. “Now, as you know, we did not want…Gracie…to finish the quest. Part of that was due to the havoc it wreaked on the ranking system, but part of it was also that we have no way to know the scope of what has just happened.”
“There is one person who knows,” Jay pointed out. He sat back in his chair, and his eyes flicked between Dan and Dhruv. “Have you asked him?”
“I think you know we haven’t,” Dhruv replied.
“Surely you can understand,” Dan chimed in, cutting back in before things could escalate. For a moment, he looked deeply weary.
“I’m not sure anymore,” Jay said. “Harry keeps being treated as this total wild card, but as far as I know, neither of you has gone out of your way to actually talk to the man.”
“Gracie has,” Dan said silkily. “Well, he spoke to her.”
“You knew about that?” Jay demanded.
“We found out about it last night,” Dan said. He folded his hands in his lap. “When we spoke to her.”
“When you what?” Jay asked far too nicely.
“Believe it or not, everyone came out of it with their bones unbroken and their egos unshattered,” Dan snapped, finally losing his patience. “The point is, we have begun an open dialog with her, and we brought you here to offer you your job back. I will not insult you by lying—we did hope not to be in this situation. However, since we are here, it is necessary for us to change.”
“A particularly heartfelt apology would be a good start,” Jay said.
Sam shot him a look that said, “Goddamn, man.”
Jay sighed. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Accurate, though,” Dhruv weighed in. He crossed his arms and stared at Jay. “I argued in your favor as well. You say what you mean. I like that.”
“The only thing we have to consider,” Dan said, “is whether or not you feel…comfortable…returning. Well, two: how we deal with any similar issues in the future.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Jay said, “you’re admitting I was right?”
“No,” Dan said flatly. “We made considered decisions to contain an unknown threat. We did not owe it to you to follow some democratic ideal of what to do. We are a business, Jay. Our obligation is to our funders.”
Jay said nothing to this, but Sam could see him fighting not to snap at Dan.
“So, perhaps the question is,” Dan continued, “are you willing to work for a company that is funded this way? You’re knowledgeable, Jay. You’re a good boss, and your employees have missed you. Your own boss came to speak to us, asking us to reconsider. That’s not a small thing.” He paused. “And you did what you did, in part because of your care for the game,” he admitted grudgingly.
Jay considered this. “Yes,” he said finally. “I would like to come back.”
Sam said a silent prayer of thanks. He hadn’t considered it possible that Dan and Dhruv would seriously consider his suggestion or that Jay would, but he was glad it was working out.
“Excellent,” Dan said. “I want to set the clear expectation that in the future, you will come to us with any similar concerns and that we will take them under advisement. We may or may not make the decision you are hoping for. Is that workable?”
Jay did not hesitate. “Yes.”
“Good.” Dan smiled. “I will let HR know you’ve been reinstated. Would you be willing to start tomorrow?”
Now Jay did take a moment to consider. “Yes,” he said finally.
Dan nodded. “Thank you both for your time.” It was a clear dismissal.
Outside the room, Sam and Jay walked in silence. By mutual agreement, they made their way to the parking lot and over to Jay’s semi-battered old two-door. Jay waited by the car and gave Sam a curious look, and Sam sighed.
“I was trying to distract them last night. I didn’t think he’d take the suggestion seriously.”
Jay burst out laughing. “So all of this—you thought it was—”
“I left my bagel,” Sam said, staring back at the building. “Son of a bitch!”
Jay snorted and wiped his eyes. “So, you threw a Hail Mary into the stands and someone caught it.”
“Pretty much,” Sam agreed after taking a moment to consider it. “And you actually want to come back?”
“More or less.” Jay shrugged.
“Jay, don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t,” Jay assured him with the most insincere smile Sam had ever seen.
Sam sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Go get some rest.”
“The hell I will,” Jay said bluntly. “I’m going to go find out exactly what they said to Gracie last night.”
Chapter Five
Thad had been a terrible boss. Now that Jamie was gone, he could admit that. Moody and competitive, Thad needed to be the best in the room, and he couldn’t cope with anyone else even coming close.
It was probably why the Demon Syndicate wouldn’t stay a top-tier guild, Jamie reflected. As soon as Thad found the best players, he would either drive them away with his competitiveness or keep them from becoming the best they could be.
There was one thing to be said for Thad’s sulkiness, however. Jamie had been able to pack up his room and get out of the building without having to talk to him. The others had hovered nearby, no one quite willing to take the risk of helping Jamie pack, but they had all given him handshakes or hugs on the way out. Some of the newbies looked particularly terrified. It wa
s difficult when a guild lost their top healer.
Jamie rode the high of his decision until the cab driver asked him where he wanted to go.
Then he realized he had no idea, and he was carrying all of his worldly possessions in two suitcases. He stared blankly, but the cab driver, who had apparently seen similar situations before, drove Jamie to a nearby coffee shop near the bus line, offering comforting platitudes about how women weren’t worth the trouble and telling Jamie he could live a better life as a bachelor. Apparently, he’d decided that Jamie had been thrown out of his apartment after a fight with a girlfriend.
Jamie was too shell-shocked to correct him.
In the coffee shop, the solution came to him in the form of a text message.
Just checking in, it read. I know you’re probably getting reamed out right now. Just let us know how it shakes out—and if you need help.
Jamie stared at the message for a long time, trying to decide if it was a genuine offer. In the end, he threw caution to the winds and typed back: Actually…
Which was how he found himself walking out of Sea-Tac Airport a scant six hours later, shivering in the drizzly cold and peering into the passing cars until a man flagged him down with a smile.
“Hey,” Kevin said, stepping out of a Tesla Model 3.
Jamie gaped. He was unusually attractive, a fact that had always made him more self-conscious than proud. It had been especially awkward when Brightstar wanted to use Jamie for all of their promo photos and Thad had glowered in the background.
He didn’t hold a candle to Kevin, though. He was 5’8” or so and had dark blond hair. Kevin’s jawline might have been chiseled from stone, and his clothes, perfectly tailored, fell over a body that spoke of a personal trainer and a carefully-curated diet.
Kevin raised one perfect eyebrow at Jamie’s dumbstruck expression.
“I, uh…” Jamie cleared his throat and recovered. “Was kind of expecting a Piskie with pink hair.”
Kevin burst out laughing and came over to clasp Jamie’s hand before loading his bags into the trunk of the car. He opened the passenger door for Jamie before heading back around to slide into the driver’s seat.