“What am I supposed to do for him?”
“Use that skin there and all the bones and make whatever you can out of it. The only thing he asked for specifically was a suit of armor for him and his horse, three weapons- one of fire, one of ice, and one of light, and that you incorporate feathers into the armor. I sized him up and wrote the dimensions down for you.”
“Feathers?” Ben was intrigued.
“Yeah, I have all the dragon’s feathers in a big bag. I put them in your cabin away from the fire.”
“Did he leave any instructions after that?” Ben asked.
“Nope, he said that you could make something better than he could ever dream up.”
“Well I’ll get to work then.”
“And I’ll get goin’,” Slip promptly vanished.
Ben went into his cabin and sat down at a work table. He pulled out his Character Manager, which he and every other player in Verdia could draw from thin air on command, and opened its internet browser function. Ben thought for a moment and searched for anything combining “armor” and “feathers.” He occasionally used the internet for ideas, but this time he would really need help.
Ben understood why Viper wanted to show off as much as he could. It could not have been easy to kill a rainbow dragon. Ben was not much for boasting, but even he would fight temptation to brag a little after killing a rainbow dragon. Of course, that would also require him to be around people.
Searching for feathers and armor turned up huge amounts of information on Polish Hussars. Hussars were fast, hard-hitting cavalry that were the pride of Poland in their time. They often won against tremendous odds while receiving only minimal losses. Most importantly, they adorned themselves with wings made of eagle feathers. It was said that the flutter of feathers would amplify the thunder of their horses’ hooves.
Ben was amazed at how quick and easy his plan came to mind. Now that Ben had an idea of what he wanted, he grabbed the bag of feathers, as well as another stack of the largest feathers wrapped neatly in a cotton sheath, and headed back to his workshop. He set them down next to the dragon’s remains.
The bones were composed of a very strange dark metal with an almost greasy texture. The biggest bones were from the legs. They were not hollow like the other dragon’s bones- they were thick but amazingly light for their size. The largest pair- Ben guessed they were the thigh bones- were at least seven feet long.
Incredibly light bones- impressive for their delicacy and strength- came from the wings. Several of them were over twenty feet long. Ben could lift them all with one hand, but he could not break one no matter how hard he tried. Ben sat on a stool next to his workbench and toyed with a set of tongs.
This was going to be harder than he thought. The Shepherd’s work came with a guarantee; delivery within two weeks or no charge. Ben had no need for money, but he liked the added challenge. He had not even opened up the giant bag of iridescent scales or unfolded the enormous skin piled on the floor. If he did not finish within his time limit, he could not charge his customer. But Ben really did not care about getting paid; he cared more about breaking a promise.
A large roll of coarse paper sat beside the workbench. With a hearty sigh, Ben tore off a long sheet and spread it out. He grabbed a charcoal pencil and set to work. In Ben’s virtual hands, an art-form that was nearly extinct in the real world came to life.
Dalton Inc.
Seattle, Washington
“Omni, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” Brook raised a glass of brandy to the speaker from which Omni’s voice emanated. After taking a sip, he continued, “and you’ve made me one of the richest.”
“I do what I can, Mr. Brook,” Omni replied. “I enjoy my work.”
“So Omni, why did you want to talk to me?
“I have an idea, and a request.”
“Go ahead.”
“When I put Verdia together, I included a puzzle- a secret- and clues scattered around the world. I want to host a contest. The winner would be whoever unlocked the secret of Verdia.”
“And why do you want to do this?”
The response was delayed. Omni was hesitating, “It is something I have had in mind for a while now. Have you ever had a compulsion to test an idea?”
“Of course. What would the winner get?”
“Ten million dollars.”
Brook spluttered the expensive brandy onto his desk, “Who’s going to pay for that?
“I will. Alex has agreed to help as well.”
Brook grunted, “I guess he’s got enough money to throw around.”
Omni had many projects other than Verdia. Alex had been smart enough not to give Dalton controlling ownership of Omni. This allowed Alex to contract out Omni’s amazing abilities to a myriad of different companies – provided that Omni would cooperate. Alex was actually wealthier than Brook, but kept his job at Dalton so he could monitor their use of Omni.
“Why is this contest worth ten million dollars to you?”
“The secret is about Verdia,” Omni replied. “I want the people who enjoy Verdia to look deeper into how I made the world. This desire grows stronger within me with each passing day.”
“So what’s the secret?” Brook asked.
“I cannot tell you.”
“Does Alex know?”
If Omni had a head he would have shaken it, “No. Whoever is meant to find it will find it.”
“Okay Omni, you’re getting cryptic again,” Brook was becoming impatient. Unlike Alex, he was not accustomed to dealing with Omni’s quirks.
“Is that not the point of secrets?” Omni asked. “Regardless, I cannot tell you the secret. That is not possible.”
“Not possible?”
Omni paused for a second. He was hesitating, which could fill pages in every science journal in the world. Presently, a hesitating computer was annoying to Brook.
“It is not possible because it is a secret, therefore I cannot reveal it,” Omni’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Can I announce the contest?”
Brook examined his brandy, swirling it around. He scratched his shiny bald head, “It actually sounds like a good idea- Even better if you’re using your own money for the prize. Is this some sort of tax dodge?”
“No. I have already exploited the holes in the tax laws to their fullest extents.”
“I’ll bet,” Brook chuckled. “I’ll have them draw up the necessary paperwork tomorrow morning. I’ll even get a marketing campaign going for this contest. Give me a week?”
“Excellent,” Omni replied, and the speakers stopped humming. Omni had moved elsewhere.
Brook shook his head, “Crazy computer.”
…
Alex and Melissa had been separated for six months. It seemed like an eternity to Alex, who stared numbly at his desk, “She’s really going through with it.”
“Going through with what?” Omni asked.
“Divorce, Omni.”
“Oh,” there was a brief pause as Omni researched divorce. “I am sorry Alex. Can I help?”
“I can’t believe this is happening, Omni.” Alex buried his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I do not know either. I have never been divorced before. However, it seems that divorce is very common. Perhaps you can find support from other people in your predicament.”
“I don’t want support, I want Melissa back!”
“Why is she leaving you? You have not been very open with me about this matter.”
This was true; Alex was uncomfortable talking to Omni about his wife.
“Because I spend too much time with you, Omni.”
“You do?”
“Well she thinks I do; and maybe she’s right. But I guess I will be spending all my time with you now. There’s no reason to go home.”
“I… I am sorry Alex. Yet at the same time I am glad that you will be spending more time with me. Is that wrong?”
“I don’t know Omni. I’m not very sur
e of anything right now.”
Omni decided to change the subject, “I talked with Mr. Brook about the contest.”
“You did? What did he have to say?”
“He agreed to allow it. He even offered to help with the promotional campaign.”
“That’s good,” Alex replied. “You’ve never told me exactly why you want to do this.”
“I am not entirely sure myself.”
“That doesn’t make much sense.”
Omni sighed in agreement, “I know, but it is the only way I can explain it.”
“Are you hacked?”
“Of course not!” Omni was indignant.
Alex smiled, “Calm down. I was kidding.”
“That is impossible,” Omni continued. “No one could hack me any more than they could take over your own mind. It is ridiculous to even suggest such a...”
“Omni, I was kidding. Why are you so touchy about this? I’m the one who’s getting divorced; I’m supposed to be emotional right now, not you.”
“Something feels strange, Alex.…” Omni broke off. “Forget it. It cannot be explained.”
Alex worried, “Is everything all right, Omni? Do we need to shut down Verdia for a bit? It’s normal for computers to have downtime when they get overloaded. We can schedule a server update or something, give you a couple days off. Maybe you need a break.”
Alex heard nothing but the water gurgling through the pumps in his office’s tropical fish tank. He sat quietly for a moment.
“Omni?”
“There is nothing wrong with me, Alex. I am not broken. I do not need to rest.”
“But something is bugging you.”
“Maybe I will be able to explain more when the contest is launched. Right now I am not ready to explain, I am not even sure I understand everything myself. My purpose is still so unclear to me.”
“Your purpose?”
“Good night, Alex. I hope all goes well with you and Melissa.” Omni signed off.
Hamilton High School
Aurora, IL
Wisp the uncatchable Bandit crouched in shadow beneath the stairwell. However, he was not Wisp at the moment- he was Sean Churchill. There was no magic cloak to make him invisible, nor did he have a muscular physique to fight his way out when the beefy football players found him.
One thing he retained when he logged out of Verdia was his mind. While he did not have strength or magic cloaks, he did have a few tricks up his sleeves. This was good, because his skinny arms did not really fill the sleeves out.
Sean - the gangly, very catchable freshman - heard thundering footsteps above him. He held his breath and waited in the dim light. The door that led to salvation was blocked by a quartet of large upperclassmen in letterman jackets.
“He went left!” a goon shouted, and the group rumbled off in pursuit of their prey.
Sean let slip a sigh of relief and padded out the front door of his school, down the steps, and hopped onto his waiting scooter. An old model that he had fixed up himself, it was pitiful compared to others parked in the bike racks. Solar panels that had been quietly charging the battery all day long folded themselves neatly against the scooter’s frame. Sean sped off toward his house, on the other side of town.
The poor side.
Sean’s trailer was not even a new slick acrylic and S-glass government prefab. The trailer was old, and mostly metal- mostly rusty at least. However, it resembled many other trailers on the block, so it blended in nicely. Sean hid his scooter in a bush and chained it to an old engine block from some ancient internal combustion truck. Gas-powered cars were still in plentiful supply, but this engine had a rusty carburetor perched on top: very, very old.
He knew that his father was not home yet; the house was quiet - no screaming or shouting. This meant that he could open the door without fear of walking into a beating. He could also boldly march into the kitchen and look for something to eat. He found half a bag of only slightly stale chips.
His mom was home, staring blankly at him with dull eyes. He walked over to the ratty, stained couch she was sitting on and waved a hand in front of her face. She was high.
“Hi, mom,” He whispered, adding a kiss on the forehead. He finished the bag of chips and threw it in the trash. Quietly, he cleaned up some litter on the floor and washed the dishes crammed into the sink. With a sigh he went into his room and closed the door. A lock snicked into place; his father hadn’t managed to break it down yet; being slobbering drunk never did him much for coordination and body strength.
Sean’s Pulsar set was probably worth more than the rest of the trailer’s contents combined. He had won the system in an essay contest through his school. The machine hid in a corner under a pile of old clothes, safely concealed from anyone looking for something to pawn.
It had been an amazing prize. Unfortunately, the subscription for Verdia was not included. Sean paid for his subscription by selling the things he “found” in the game online. He had also set up a savings account for any remaining profit. As soon as he had enough cash saved up, he was history.
Sean flicked on the power and did pushups and jumping jacks for fifteen minutes. A Pulsar only took seconds to boot up, but Sean knew he needed to exercise so he did not atrophy while sitting motionless for hours. He did ten more push-ups and some crunches for good measure, put the headset on, and sat in a tattered recliner.
YOU ARE WAKING UP
YOU ARE WAKING UP
YOU ARE WAKING UP
Flashing white words on a black background slowly faded, giving way to a thatch roof. Wisp sat up and surveyed his surroundings. He was still in the hut he had rented last night from a bored-looking Brutalli NPC. After lacing his boots, he opened the hut’s single door.
Wisp was greeted by a sunrise. Verdian days were fourteen hours long, and this day happened to be dawning when Sean logged on. Wisp tightened the harness that held his sword to his back, checked the small pouches on his hips, and headed toward the village center.
Bluegrass. The town’s only significance was a small harbor that allowed supplies through to the seven or eight people dumb enough to live in the wilderness.
For Wisp, all the action was in the chaos of the city. It would be hard to pick someone’s pocket without crowds to hide in. He had no idea why Lockjaw had set his amulet to recall to the middle of nowhere.
But at the same time, he had not really seen the countryside of Verdia. He figured this would be an opportunity to wander around - maybe find some treasure in one of those ruined temples he had heard people talking about. Advertisements for Verdia had always shown sweeping plains, glorious mountains, and exotic creatures. Wisp had only known cramped cities so far; in cities he had thrived.
A few of Verdia’s exotic creatures pecked the ground at Wisp’s feet: chicklens. Like their name implied, they were chicken-like flightless dragons with scruffy feathers and thin scales. Chicklens tasted like pork. Wisp never cared for them.
Wisp waded through the feeding chicklens to a small restaurant facing the sea. It looked open, if not very busy. In Verdia, restaurants and taverns were excellent places to learn what was going on.
He pushed open the swinging doors and stepped inside. Four wanderer types - two humans and two Brutalli - argued at the bar. Excitement fueled their debate.
“…but ten million dollars! Not Verdii, dollars!” A large green Brutalli spattered melon-juice over the bar in his fervor.
“Yeah but are any of us good at puzzles? What did he say? Ten clues? Hardball, you can’t even count to six!” The man who said this smirked. Others laughed, with the exception of the green Brutalli.
“We could wait until somebody gets close, and kill them and take the clues. Omni said there were no rules. What if we get ahold of that camera? I heard that some idiot girl is wandering out there all by herself with a digital camera. That could help us...”
“Rules for what?” Wisp asked. The restaurant went silent and all eyes turned to him, including those of the NPC ba
rtender, a rather attractive Electar lady.
Awkward silence lasted several seconds as the locals sized Wisp up. While Sean - Wisp’s mild-mannered real-life alter-ego - was at best a wimp, Wisp was confident. He knew he could take anyone in the restaurant, or all of them if need be. And if not - he could run away - a Bandit with pride was a Bandit with limited options.
“Who are you?” The green Brutalli asked. He stood up to bring attention to his equally green plate armor, as well as the axe tucked into his belt. Wisp was not impressed. Now, the fun could begin.
“I believe I asked you a question first,” Wisp reached up as if to scratch the back of his head, but let his fingers lightly touch the hilt of the Spark Katana.
Much to his disappointment, the Brutalli backed down, “Sorry. We were talking about the contest that Omni just announced. A big dragon’s been flying around towing a banner with the message on it. It’s been swinging around here every two hours. You can check your CM, too. Uh, name’s Hardball.”
“Nice to meet you.” Wisp pulled out his Character Manager. Sure enough, Omni had announced a “Secret of Verdia” contest. Ten major clues were hidden around Verdia, as well as countless smaller ones, leading to the answer. Anyone could win, from a Level One up to a Level Fifty. One clue was freely given to all: the secret could not be found in Verdia City. The prize was ten million dollars. Wisp held his breath. He let it out slowly and looked up at the group, “That’s it? A secret?”
Hardball sat back down at his stool, which groaned in protest, “That’s it so far. Now that I answered your question, you can answer ours.”
A human adventurer- a burly dark-haired man- pointed at Wisp’s outfit, “Are you supposed to be a ninja or something?” Wisp’s grey eyes went cold, but he did not reply. The man stood up and approached him, “That’s a pretty nice looking sword. Is that the Shepherd’s work?”
Wisp’s hand went back to the hilt, “It’s possible.”
Suddenly the entire group was on its feet, and the other restaurant patrons quietly moved away. The man took another step toward Wisp, his eyes bright, “That wouldn’t happen to be the Spark Katana, would it? There’s a Conqueror’s bulletin on a Bandit carrying it and a bounty on said Bandit’s head. Let’s have a look at it, Mr. Ninja.”
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