Crafter's Passion

by Kris Schnee

  "Oh, shoot," said Stan. "I was supposed to get bottled water."

  "There's a servo a block away," said a robot that was climbing out of a van. Stan stared. The dusty tan quadruped came up barely to his waist like a sculpture of a tailless wolf. Once it trotted closer, it raised one forepaw and waved, showing off an opposable thumb and two fingers. Its head wasn't really wolflike, but it had twin camera eyes on a swiveling mount, so that Stan could almost see it as a living creature. Plastic plates covered most of its hide.

  "What...?"

  "Petrol station. Get yourself a slab of water over there."

  He tried to place the accent. "Are you Australian?"

  "Sure am. Not familiar with bots, are you?"

  "Excuse him," said one of the human volunteers. "He tends to lay it on thick around newcomers. T-shirt?" He held up a sky blue shirt with a fancy silver braid design on it, and a Thousand Tales logo.

  "Y'didn't go with the wings design?" asked the Aussbot.

  "There was an argument about it."

  Stan took the shirt and tried to judge what he was seeing, thinking back to his lessons in the palace scenario. Most of the volunteers here were already sporting Thousand Tales merchandise and clustering around the box of shirts the man had unloaded. The robot was the only machine in sight, and it was a kind of cute design, not built for construction work. A couple of kids had already spotted it and were bounding over. Ludo had said the point of this event was to get people to interact with robots and to earn goodwill, but to do that he had to make it obvious the Tales organization was involved. Hence the shirts. Stan put his on. He said, "What was the argument?"

  The kids were mobbing the wolf already, touching and hugging like it was just an armored puppy. It craned its head toward Stan and said, "Go get the water, will you?" before its attention was pulled back. Ms. Parker was already busy pulling bins of sandwiches and cake out of her trunk.

  Stan's Talisman pad in his pocket beeped. He pulled it out and glared as though it'd order him around like his Slab, but it just said, [Incoming message: We can repay you. Mind holding the screen up as you walk there?]

  Stan started walking away from the dirt lot down the run-down street. This was a neighborhood where he wanted to keep his eyes alert, but he held up the Talisman and said, "Like this?" It had a camera on each side.

  A sort of winged cat appeared on the screen and spoke aloud in the Aussbot's voice. "Yep. I wanted a torchbearer."

  "You're a kitty."

  "Sphinx!" it insisted. "And I've never seen Mexico, so this is a bit of an adventure for me. Just hold up the camera so I can take it in."

  Stan walked, keeping most of his attention on the alleys and the few cars on the road. "Did you split yourself to control the robot while we walk?"

  "Nah, I fobbed the kid-wrangling off on one of my mates. I get the sense an unguarded bot would get stripped for parts, in a place like this."

  The gas station smelled of something sweet and rotten and Stan's shoes stuck to the floor. The cases of bottled water looked all right, though. He easily hauled one and a bag of ice up to the counter and paid in the dollars he'd traded for.

  "Lemme get a good look at the place," said the AI voice in his pocket. Stan held up the Talisman and filmed in a panorama, to the clerk's confusion. "And another shot from the far corner. Ta."

  Stan couldn't give the sphinx a good view while lugging the water around, but they talked on the way back. "So Ludo spent processing power on making more AIs instead of... Sorry. I guess you get that a lot."

  "Used to it. Had to impress some early customers, but we're tryin' to be useful. Whole operation's a game where we've gotta balance money and laws and reputation. Today's part of it. In fact we even held a contest to design the playground, so we got extra publicity that way."

  Back at the work site, Stan delivered the water and ice and started cutting wood for the frame of a sandbox. It was simple work but part of a flurry of activity. Somebody had looked at a plot of dirt and seen a playground, that just needed somebody to make it real. Everybody chattered in English or Spanish as they sweated, putting up a swing set and monkey bars and even a wheelchair ramp leading to an elevated fort. Ms. Parker seemed especially pleased by that one.

  "Over here, Mr. Cooper!" said the robot, apparently hosting the sphinx AI's mind again. He'd hardly lifted a paw but had arranged to be photographed hammering a few nails and shepherding the older volunteers' kids. A reporter had stopped by, getting shots of the people wearing Tales shirts.

  Stan did as he was told, and got to help haul some heavy beams upright with the men -- the other strong men -- and anchor them. Together they built a rope bridge that would wobble and bounce excitingly as kids bounded across it, and a climbing net and other things Stan only dimly remembered from forever ago. People would get to enjoy this place that he'd helped make.

  That blazing afternoon, many of the volunteers took shelter under a canopy beside the bus. Stan enjoyed the shade and lunch, though it was awkward being around so many strangers. Stan asked the robot, "Do a lot of AIs want, what'd you say, a 'lampbearer'? Just to look around in the real world?"

  "Or torchbearer. I think you Yanks call a torch a flashlight? Without a ton of robots we can only look outside from gamers' cameras."

  Stan pictured a submarine with narrow searchlights piercing the murky depths around it. Where there was an unfilled need, there was an opportunity. "What would you think about getting a wireless connection to some cheap drones to roll or fly through the desert? Would that be fun enough to pay for?"

  The bot said, "We don't have much money, but let me ask around."

  Ms. Parker elbowed Stan. "What are you going to do with your time in the pods?"

  "The what?"

  "We're going to the town's Fun Zone afterward. Free VR pod time for each volunteer. Why do you think people showed up?"

  Stan looked around but saw no sign of the business Ludo's company owned. "I had no idea."

  He worked for another two hours cutting, digging, hammering and finally stepping back to revel in the playground that had sprung up from nothing. "We made something real," he said.

  "Always a challenge," said the robot. "By the way, yes! If you can set up some kind of interesting waypoints or an obstacle course or something, some of us would like to see your desert. And pay with your world's money, even."

  An obstacle course? That did sound fun from a robot's perspective. It might be cheap to set up compared to buying the drones themselves. He could scrounge something up at the junk shops, maybe.

  * * *

  The Fun Zone was just two blocks away, serving a city that was poor overall but had hundreds of thousands of people, a metropolis compared to his Community or any of the nearby towns. It was a place set apart from everything, not by its distance from the sketchy self-storage place next door but by being new and colorful, covered with murals painted by many hands. Spraypainted dragons did battle with cowboys and jackalopes all over the outer walls. The dozens of volunteers streamed in and found a restaurant from another world.

  Quadrotor drones hummed through the air above tables set with gaming controls. The big screens everywhere were windows into Talespace, from the Endless Isles to sub-realms he'd never seen. There were human employees wearing uniforms that belonged on starship crewmen. The wolf-like robot trotted in and waved to a living plush griffin.

  The griffin sat up and spread its wings slightly. Motors whirred beneath the fur as it extended one bird-taloned yellow forepaw to wave. Its eyes glowed a soft blue above a blunt plastic beak that clacked open and shut when it spoke. "Welcome, friends! The restaurant is reserved for you for the next few hours. Have a seat for pizza!"

  Stan tried to process the sight of the talking machine. He knew perfectly well it was just a robot with a pelt, but the effect was different from the cruder model he'd been looking at all day. It also wasn't limited to having a "real" body only on a video screen; it was here. "You're a myth," he said.

 
The griffin said, "Not anymore!"

  Everyone took to the tables and a waiter gave out numbered tickets for the VR booths that lurked somewhere in back. "We have showers in the restroom area too," he said, looking skeptically at the sweaty workers. A few people went to take advantage of those first. Stan began to see what it took to make this little dream-castle work; he pitied the employees who had to keep everything clean. He'd been wearing the Tales shirt over his other one, so he at least had a relatively clean shirt to change into.

  The griffin trotted around, chatting with people like it was perfectly normal. When it reached Stan he said, "Who are you, really? An AI or an uploader, or even a human controlling that thing like a puppet?"

  It couldn't smile, but the machine bounced on its talons. "Everyone has their own story, sir. Mine's less glorious than most. Today we're here for you."

  Stan pulled out his Talisman pad and turned to Ms. Parker. "Thanks again for this."

  "No problem, young man."

  He logged into Thousand Tales and got a look at a surprised Ludo, who said, "Why are you using this in here?"

  "As long as we're mixing worlds," Stan said, "I want to use my Inspect skill on the griffinbot there." He held up the pad towards it.

  A text window popped up on his screen, saying:

  [Gail Fairwind

  PUBLIC INFO

  Class: Mage

  Faction Flag: Knights of Talespace

  Note: "Trying to earn it."]

  "Earn what?" said Stan.

  "Partly, these," said the griffin, extending its mechanical wings. Or trying to; the machinery only let them unfurl a little bit, for show. "Bah, the hardware design just isn't right yet."

  "Still working on griffins capable of conquering the world?"

  Gail giggled. "Okay, I confess, Mr. Cooper; I wanted to say hello to you in particular. You're the previous owner of my red Talisman. I hope it gave you a good time."

  "More than that," Stan said. "Since then, I passed that one on to a friend and got a better one from Ms. Parker here."

  "That seems fitting. Maybe my good luck will rub off on both of you, too. Have a fun day!"

  Stan showered, ate surprisingly mediocre pizza, and watched people play with worlds around him. And then, it was his turn for the VR rigs.

  Ms. Parker caught him pacing and panicking. "Not sure what to do with your time?"

  "Yes, ma'am." When you had only so many hours and you were being handed the chance to do anything, picking any one thing was a painful reminder of all the things you didn't get to try.

  She patted him on the shoulder. "Watch the tutorial video so you don't waste much time learning the machine. Then, pick a few things but don't try to do everything."

  Dutifully, he watched the basic intro about the equipment. An attendant let him in early so he could see the last guy use it for a bit. The VR part of the Fun Zone was a back hallway lined with dark soundproofed carpet. Dim alcoves held one or two sleek blue tubes with a hint of rocket fins, with an array of straps and rods inside to climb into. A wallscreen showed him what was going on: a dragon flying through an airship battle and dodging cannon fire.

  He pulled his attention away from that and looked at the attendant, a young Mexican woman who looked like she'd be equally at home at an ordinary restaurant. "Do you like working here?"

  "It's all right. We're not important enough to deal with the uploading stuff, but Ludo's always helpful, you know? It's tough for anybody to be a crooked boss or a sleazy employee when there's an AI watching."

  He thought, Watching. Is that really different from the SCS, and Baron Hal? Aloud he said, "How come it's not all done by robots?"

  "Got to have humans here, by law. Besides, this is the kind of neighborhood where people steal copper off your roof for scrap. This job is easy work, really. You see a magical portal to another world, but I see padding that needs a good spraying with disinfectant, or maybe a flamethrower."

  She was right; the futuristic room smelled of cleaning chemicals. A chime sounded inside the pod, and it returned to vertical so the man inside could climb out, saying, "Whew! It's different in that direct a play mode. Thanks." The employee smiled at him and went to work with a cleaning rag and spray bottle.

  Stan watched how she was doing it, in case he ever ended up getting a job here. The thought surprised him; he'd never really imagined leaving California. It was an okay place.

  "You're up," she said.

  Stan climbed into the machine and got cocooned in its fasteners and screens and air conditioning. He could hardly move at first, but there was room to swing his arms and legs around. There was a little training level with a giant chessboard and mannequins, and then the game came to life.

  * * *

  He stood in the presence of Ludo, who crossed his wooden throne room to greet Stan. "Welcome to the Penultimate Lodge," he said. All around them the walls clacked and shifted, showing the stars in between. Stan stared up at the caped man who was offering his hand to shake.

  At last Stan took the hand and felt its grip against his own. "It's strange to see you in person. Sir."

  "No need to 'sir' me. Now, what do you want to play? There's a whole menu of popular scenarios, plus your official account." A grid of pictures appeared next to him, suggesting all sorts of ideas from Grand Canyon rafting to Mars exploration to surviving a haunted house.

  "Ms. Parker said not to change the channel too much. I'll play my usual, but first... Surprise me."

  "Hmm. How do you feel about cold weather? Dogs? Swimming? Tentacles?"

  "Never been, no thanks, don't know, and oh God no."

  "Just kidding about the last one." Ludo snapped his fingers.

  Suddenly Stan was underwater in a world of blue-tinged sun and the burbling of bubbles. He felt chilly, rippling water all around him, and there were bulky tools in his hands. [Install the sea habitat's new pressure housing by moving panels into position and bolting them.]

  He knew he could breathe, but the sight of water all around him and the bubbles streaming past his mask gave him a moment of panic. There was an emergency button somewhere by his head, back in reality, but he fought the urge to hit it. He drifted there underwater until his heart steadied. This was just scuba diving. In the distance dolphins or something squeaked and the hulls of boats bobbed at anchor.

  He kicked his legs and flew downward to where big plastic panels lay on the shallow seabed. He grabbed one and rose again to where a scaffold extended underwater. A larger structure loomed overhead like a concrete pad or an oil rig, with hints of more surface platforms casting more shadows around him.

  Maneuvering the big panel into place was a pain, but there were some satisfying clicks as it snapped into place. He flipped around the jungle-gym of a scaffold and saw the interior of an underwater habitat taking shape. "Some colony planet?" he said, unimpeded by the breathing mask he felt like he was wearing.

  [No, this is based on what's actually happening off the Cuban coast. Want to keep going?]

  In the blue distance he spotted titanic anchor cables, seafloor machinery, and a net that seemed meant to restrain a school of fish. He hadn't yet surfaced, and even down here there was plenty to see if only he wanted to swim around and look at it. But he only had so much time. He looked around longingly at this ocean world then said, "No, back to my real account."

  A fade-out later and he was in an elegant brass-lined gymnasium with a padded floor. There was a sword in his left hand, and a reflection in the walls showing a startled princess in rugged clothes. Oh! Right, this is one of my official characters. He glanced down at the surprisingly well-filled leather breastplate he was wearing, blushed, and tested out the sensory feedback by squishing his hands against it a little.

  "They always try that," his teacher muttered. "Good afternoon, your highness. Since you're more 'here' than usual, if you get my meaning, how about a fighting lesson?"

  Stan turned to stare at a half-human with the body of a deer, rendered like a more reason
ably proportioned version of a classic centaur. He'd seen this guy before in the princess scenario, but seeing him in VR mode was different. Stan walked around the room, touching the walls, tapping the floor with his sword, checking out his reflection and how she moved, and finally looking at the instructor again. "Uh, this is a strange request but..." His voice sounded higher, thanks to the VR equipment.

  "You want to touch my deer half, huh? Go ahead."

  Sheepishly, Stan walked up to him and pressed one hand against the short-furred hide. It felt warm and soft. In this little world he was supposed to be studying what... War, Law, Finance and Diplomacy, yet the simple things were more interesting. He stepped back and said, "I just wanted to know. I'll try the fighting now, thanks."

  Instead of battling Stan directly, the teacher brought in a royal guard with one of those face-concealing helmets and a padded sword. A single bright strip of carpet now lined the floor. The teacher explained, "This is one form of fencing. The rules say you must stay in the carpeted lane, there, and the goal is simply to touch your opponent's body with the blade. Begin!"

  The soldier advanced and Stan fell back, waving his sword like a feather duster. He got whacked across one arm and the stomach, and felt the blows as though through his padded clothing. He was back against the wall at the end of the fencing strip. Frantically Stan swung his sword to block one attack. "No need to swing it like an axe!" his teacher said. "Hold it left, right, high or low!"

  The enemy made a big obvious downward swing, so Stan held up his blade to block high. Then left to counter a showy swing to his left, and so on. After the first few parries it got harder again, with less obvious signals. He got in only a few chances to jab at the foe and couldn't connect. Stan said, "I think I get the general idea."

  The soldier stepped to Stan's right, off of the legal movement area, and kicked Stan in the back of one knee. Stan buckled and crashed to the floor, landing on padding. He lay there in shock. "What the hell? He cheated!"