by Oliver Mayes
The only obvious difference was her hair. It was the same shining blond but longer, falling behind her back where he couldn’t see. Her clothes were different too, unsurprisingly. Strange to see the girl in the bulky golden armor down to just a slender pair of tracksuit bottoms and a black tank top.
The strangest part? Her Saga Online height was accurate. She was just shy of six feet tall, almost a head taller than Damien himself.
Lillian braced her back against the doorframe and folded her arms, exactly the same way she’d rested against the tree when they’d first met, looking him up and down.
“You look the same as your avatar! That makes things easier. Come on in.”
Damien’s feet carried him inside. He didn’t know what to say in a situation like this. A ‘thank you’ might be a good start. He’d hardly opened his mouth before Lillian swept past him.
“You’ve got slippers here by the door, toilet’s that way, bathroom on the opposite side,” she said, pointing around the spacious apartment. “There’s a blue towel there if you want to freshen up. Washing machine and drier, too. If you’re hungry I can make you something. Is pizza OK?”
Damien nodded, his mouth still hanging slightly open as he took in his surroundings. This was an A-rank living space.
It was so big, and it seemed like she had it all to herself. There were no signs of a second housemate appearing from anywhere to give him an inspection. At last his mind stopped working for long enough to express himself.
“Thank you for having me. Pizza would be awesome. Can I go take a shower first?”
Lillian grinned.
“Good choice.”
She stood there smiling as he awkwardly removed his shoes and jigged into the plastic slippers she’d left out for him, one arm still burdened by the IMBA set.
“There’s a cabinet in there to put anything you don’t want to get wet. I’ll show you where you’re sleeping afterward. You can put your stuff there and then we can get to know each other. All right?”
Oh. Oh. Conversation. Words. He should use those.
Damien’s lips stammered his thanks, but his relieved eyes probably did far more to convey the depth of his gratitude.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Take your time!”
He locked the door and checked it twice before he’d finished stowing away his headset and dumping all his clothes into the washing machine. Damien turned up the dial and warm water blasted out onto the nape of his neck, washing away all the grime he’d accumulated over the last couple of days.
A real shower. The water wasn’t getting colder either, so no need to adjust the temperature dial upward. It just kept coming at the correct temperature, like it was supposed to. Amazing. So, this is what tier A living was like.
He finished quickly and grabbed the blue towel, but he hadn’t thought ahead any further than that. His clothes were now all in the washing machine, which was diligently chugging away. A bathrobe hung on the back of the door.
Delicately, he reached out and touched it. It was much softer and lighter than any towel he’d ever encountered. He carefully wrapped the blue towel around his waist and tightened the robes with the convenient cord encircling the midriff before poking his head out the door.
Lillian was on the other side of the apartment with her back to him as she fed the food processor instructions.
“Lillian? Is it all right if I use this? I should have asked, but I put all my stuff in the washing machine without thinking and n—”
She turned as he was speaking and quickly raised her hands to cover her mouth, giggling into them. Damien’s eyes flickered to her wrist, where a familiar device rested. It looked just like the guardian wristband his mother had been using to measure her heartbeat. Was Lillian sick? She seemed OK, but some things didn’t show up on the surface. What could it be? Maybe she—
“No problem, it looks very cute on you.”
Damien blinked and his eyes darted from Lillian’s wrist to the crinkles of her nose. What had they been talking about? Ah, the dressing gown. Crap.
Try to say something normal.
“Err, thank you.”
Goddammit.
Lillian’s smirk widened as she turned back to the food processor, calling out so he could still hear.
“Your room’s over there, second on the right. Dump your stuff and come back, pizza’s almost done.”
A whole room. He was going to get a whole room? He’d figured he’d be sleeping on the couch or something. He quickly gathered what few belongings he had left and followed Lillian’s direction to his new safe space.
It was bigger than his own room at home, albeit with nothing to denote it belonged to anybody. But it had a made bed in it, with sockets carefully positioned at the top next to the pillows. Whoever set it up that way clearly had VR gaming in mind. All that mattered to Damien was that it was somewhere he could sleep. Existing was possible.
Now he could try getting everything else back on track, starting with food. He carefully sat on the sofa. Lillian came and sat down a seat away from him, the pizza placed on a plate between them.
It was masterfully made, each supplement added at the correct stage to decorate it with a variety of toppings. Food processors had won against the complexity of most food, but any pizza besides plain cheese was a difficult task. One Lillian had just accomplished effortlessly.
“That’s a pretty outstanding processed pizza.”
She flashed her teeth and put her arm across her waist to perform a mock bow, her guardian wristband now close enough for Damien to identify it beyond any doubt. It looked more intensive than the one his mother had. Maybe Lillian’s condition was worse. Or maybe it was just designed to monitor different symptoms. She caught him looking.
“You’re wondering about this thing, huh? You know what it is?”
Damien nodded, biting back asking what it was for.
Lillian wanted to share.
“I’m a med student. This is a device we’re testing out for our hospital sponsor, an upgrade to the guardian wristband. With regular calibrations it not only reads my blood but my nervous system too, so it can tell if I’m under significant stress. If any abnormal readings are detected, I immediately get a call. If I twist my wrist like this—”
She twirled her wrist around in a full circle and raised it to her lips, continuing to speak evenly as if she’d only just started the sentence.
“Hi Becky, Lillian here. Am I still on duty all day tomorrow?”
“Yup, no change. Sorry, Lil’, see you tomorrow.”
She lowered her hand and the call ended.
“And if it’s removed without warning or detects severe stress, the hospital contacts security in this building. They can get here in forty-five seconds. They’ve timed it.”
Damien raised an eyebrow at the device. It was a significant upgrade on the one Cassandra had, that was for sure. Maybe it would’ve got her an earlier response team. That still didn’t explain one thing.
“That’s very cool, but why are you telling me?”
Lillian smiled wanly and leaned back on the sofa, resting her head in the crook of her arm.
“Because the device only works for my safety if everyone around me knows what it does. The more I tell you about it, the safer we get. You can take it easy, stay as long as you need, all you have to do is leave everything the way you found it. But don’t do anything stupid. OK?”
Wow. That had taken a sudden turn. But it was understandable. He really was a complete stranger and until now they’d only ever spoken online. She was being honest. Showing her cards in return for him doing the same. Damien was raising his first slice of mystery pizza to his lips when Lillian sighed, pulling her bare feet up to rest underneath her on the sofa.
“You sound like you’ve had a rough week. Wanna talk about that?”
Damien took a bite of pizza and chewed thoughtfully. How much could he tell her? He’d already told Aetherius about his mother’s
sickness. Aetherius had been recording at the time, but he’d never shown that part. No surprises there.
The video wouldn’t have been as funny if it showed Damien begging for his mother’s life before he was kicked down the hole. Thanks, Aetherius.
He’d already told Lillian in the online chat that CU had kicked him out of his home, but he hadn’t said they were chasing him; that was something she deserved to know if he was staying here.
Besides, she was the perfect audience; a medical student who played Saga Online! And he’d been through the last four days almost entirely alone. He wanted to be honest with her, to share his ordeal with another human being. So he decided to tell her everything.
Lillian had already seen the Toutatis fight, but she dutifully nodded along as Damien described the circumstances surrounding it. Right up until he described his mother’s episode, at which point Lillian went entirely still.
Damien pushed on, looking at Lillian carefully as he told her how Aetherius had messaged him and offered a boost. How Damien had fallen apart and begged him for help. And how that plea had been answered. Lillian didn’t change her pose, but her eyes widened at every step.
He felt a lot more comfortable sitting in her house after that. He proceeded to give Lillian a timeline of what he’d done in Saga Online, cross referencing it with his travels over the last few days. He was sure to mention the two CU agents that had been assigned to his case so Lillian would be aware.
It was an hour and a half since the pizza was completed, yet in all that time only a single bite of it had been eaten. Having finished his story, Damien gave Lillian a nod to indicate he’d fulfilled his part of the bargain and started to cram cold slices into his face. He hadn’t eaten solid food in nearly twenty-four hours.
Lillian still hadn’t moved, although she was gently shaking her head. Damien had almost finished his half of the pizza when she finally managed to speak.
“Wow.”
“I know, right? Can I have one of your slices? Solid food is just great.”
“Sure, have as much as you want. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
She uncurled herself from the sofa and paced into the room next to Damien’s, closing the door behind her. Hmm. Maybe he should have toned it down after all. Maybe having heard everything, she’d decided to contact CU for him. If that was so, there was nothing he could do about it now.
Even if he gathered up what he could and left immediately, it would be difficult to avoid the authorities wearing nothing but a blue towel and a white dressing gown.
He’d eaten his way down to the crust when Lillian came back, her cheerful smile replaced with an ashen-faced grimace and a gold VR headset in one hand.
“I wanted to let you settle in, get around to why I invited you here later, but now I’ve heard your side… grab your headset. I have something to show you.”
By the time he’d been talked through the encryptions for the Wi-Fi, Lillian had already invited him into a chat session. Despite sitting next to each other, the two headsets together were a bit of a barrier to clear communication. Fortunately, they were also the solution.
“We’ll just talk like this,” hummed Lillian’s voice into his ears, slightly too loudly, “I’ll stream and you watch while we talk. It’ll be faster that way.”
Damien focused on lowering the volume a few points as Lillian navigated to a video. The sound on it was muted, but Damien recognized the show. He’d even watched it himself, on occasion, back when he hadn’t known any better.
It was the real-life portion of Aetherius’s stream.
Here he was Andrew, although the show still used his gamer name: ‘Aetherius Offline’. It was dated a week ago.
The channel was a collection of different things, sometimes reviewing technology, sometimes talking about events happening in real life, but everyone’s favorite were the prank compilations. This was one of those.
It started, as usual, with Andrew sat in his chair talking. He wasn’t much different from his online avatar, although he lacked the emerald green eyes and consistently good hair days that he enjoyed as his mage. No elf ears, either. As his lips silently worked away, Lillian’s voice was the one Damien heard.
“You remember when Saga Online just came out and everyone was fighting for their piece?”
He nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him.
“Yeah. Crazy time. I watched all the top guild streams. Rising Tide pushed hard for territory and even harder to defend it. And wherever the fighting was worst, that’s where you and Aetherius would be.”
“We made a good team. All I had to do was survive while he picked enemies off, one by one. I was his shield. We got a good foothold on the game and he became a serious contender for the streaming contest. Then the holiday ended and the fighting died down. Guilds started protecting what they had. I continued my apprenticeship in the hospital, so I played less and less. Meanwhile, Andrew here starts playing double time. Builds a big following and decides to go pro.”
She sighed.
“Good for him, but suddenly he doesn’t have time for me anymore. Cancels every plan, last minute. I suggested I come back on Saga and appear on one of his streams. I thought he’d like it, but he got really angry. Then, out of nowhere, this happens.”
While they spoke, the video had cut from Andrew at his gaming rig to Andrew being wheeled into a hospital. It was a showstopper. Blood everywhere. His arm hanging off the trolley with gouges so deep you could see the muscles. It looked for all the world like he’d been in a fight with a car and lost. The only assurance it wasn’t real were the words ‘Ultimate Prank!’ thrust in a banner across the top.
There was no such banner for the people in the video, though. It was good enough to fool a team of nurses, who quickly seized the trolley off the masked attendants and started running with it to the operating theatre.
Special attention was paid when a young woman, her long blond hair pulled into a tight bun, came running to the bedside as it was still in motion. Lillian had arrived on the show.
She moved to hold Andrew’s hand and found it in tatters, recoiling and screaming in one swift second before the tears started to fall. At which point Andrew triumphantly stood up, laughing and pointing at her.
The nurses stopped running to look on, dazed and appalled. While most of the tattered body had been fake, Andrew’s real body had been concealed within a hidden compartment beneath.
Only his head, heavily made up with bruises and scrapes, had been poking out from the grizzly fake cadaver’s neck. It was truly a magnificent prank. The most ambitious and gory attempt at a phoenix metaphor ever devised by man.
It was masterfully executed. And to Lillian, completely devastating.
She was frozen in shock, her hands covering her mouth. Andrew stood in front of her defiantly, striking a pose as if he’d done something impressive. Lillian’s eyes welled up and she quickly hurried back into the building. The moment she turned, Andrew pumped a fist into the air. Victory was his, apparently.
Then Lillian’s voice cut through, quiet but angry.
“He knew that was my worst fear, that someone I care about might get wheeled in while I was on duty. He took it and used it to humiliate me. I had a panic attack, so I was placed on mandatory leave and had this thing strapped to my wrist.”
“That’s terrible,” Damien whispered.
“But he didn’t do it for fun; it was political. When I logged into Saga Online the next day to blow off some steam, I’d lost twenty-five thousand votes in the Streamer Competition overnight. Most of them swapped to Aetherius. He did it to win votes from sickos who enjoy this kind of thing. I never planned on winning the competition myself. I was just promoting Rising Tide, for Andrew. But for him to turn around and use me like that? After helping him become a full-time streamer, like he’d always dreamed?”
Her lip curled in contempt, marring her face as she spat out her final thought.
“What a waste.”
&n
bsp; Damien narrowed his eyes at the still image on the screen. It was hard to imagine how Aetherius could have been more unlikable, but this was a giant leap for douche-kind.
Damien couldn’t stand looking at him anymore.
“I’m sorry he treated you so badly. You deserved better. Can we please get his face off the screen?”
Lillian fast-forwarded past the end commentary and the thoughts of the viewers at home. When she returned it to normal speed, the scene had become one Damien liked even less. It was him, from Aetherius’s POV, standing at the entrance of The Downward Spiral with nothing but the rags he’d spawned in and a forced smile.
“But I’m not the only one he’s treated badly, am I?”
Damien flinched as his character ticked the air and his rags disappeared, leaving him with only the loincloth. His under-leveled, gearless, ridiculously helpless avatar at the mercy of the one he’d thought to call savior. He certainly didn’t want to watch it with Lillian.
“Yeah, I was there for that one, thanks. I can live without seeing it again.”
She closed the video as his naked character’s smile faltered and a Saga Online profile page appeared in its place. His profile page.
Modest was a good descriptor, with little besides a hastily chosen profile picture and the two videos he’d posted. But despite the simplicity, it had been looked at often over the last few hours. The profile had over a hundred thousand views. The videos, a hundred and fifty thousand each.
Most amazingly of all, Damien had almost twenty thousand votes in the competition, displayed under his profile views next to the competition emblem.
He’d done it. He’d broken into the competition, and the number of votes meant that he couldn’t be ignored. A major milestone in his plan, and he’d been too busy to notice. Too preoccupied with thoughts of giving up and his situation being hopeless.