by K. T. Hanna
All in all, the AIs were perfect.
Too perfect.
She frowned at them while she watched their lights return to a rhythmic soothing sort of beat. Something was off about this room, about these servers, about the way the game was being handled, and above all, about how Wren had somehow been pulled into the world so much that her brain wasn’t letting go.
And yet all Shayla had right now was a gut feeling to go on.
She pivoted on her heel and exited the room, ignoring the servers behind her.
The hunger in the queen’s eyes was almost erotic as she descended the stairs, licking her lips slowly. Cunning and ambition swirled hypnotically within her eyes. Her crown, with its ivy strands, ran down to her shoulders and mingled with her hair. It twitched as her hips moved with an entrancing sway. She finally stopped a couple of feet from Murmur and reached out her hand in greeting.
Murmur’s guild mates weren’t helping. She could feel their gazed like icicles running down her back. Calming herself down, she focused on how much smaller the queen was than herself. Tiny. Her crown barely reaching Mur’s shoulder. Her aura however, was an entirely different matter.
“You’re different.” The queen’s words were serpent-like in quality, sinuous and insidious, well suited to worming their way into the minds of the unwary. “People will usually kill first and ask questions later. Although, I guess you did slaughter quite a few of my men on the way in here.”
She paused thoughtfully, and Murmur schooled her face again, making sure not to give way to the fear snapping at her heels as the queen slowly walked around her, eyes piercing as if they could see right through Murmur. The rhetorical nature of the woman’s statements meant not answering shouldn’t offend her. It was a gamble Murmur was willing to take, because she had no idea what to say.
Stopping right in front of the enchanter, the queen smiled. It reached her eyes, but not in a mirthful way. Her clothing moved with her, the heavy skirts swishing around her ankles. The way she cocked her head to one side revealed a sly smile, an opening to share secrets. “I am Queen Arita, of Hazenthorne royalty, of Nocturn lineage.”
Sinister let out a soft gasp, and it took Murmur all her strength not to look back at her friend. She had a feeling that breaking the queen’s eye contact would be seen a sign of weakness. And if there was anything right now that Murmur didn’t want, it was to appear weak in front of this character that could probably snap their necks with a thought. She’d never before witnessed any person or character who was so much like a predator.
The woman raised a dark eyebrow, questions flowing through her gaze. The hilts of two nasty-looking daggers twinkled at her side, and Murmur had no doubt the woman knew how to use them.
Inclining her head and still not breaking eye contact, Murmur spoke, using the only titles she’d earned so far. “Murmur, psionicist of Mikrum Isle, guild leader of Fable.”
“Interesting.” The queen raised her nose slightly and sniffed at the air. “You have his scent. Which is odd. Telvar isn’t supposed...I haven’t seen him in a long while.”
The faltering of her sentence didn’t escape Murmur. She tried to free her mind of the thoughts running through it, of her constant cataloguing of the area into possible escape routes and best-defended positions. There was still no indication why the queen was toying with them, of what she wanted. So, the best thing to do was ask.
“What can we do for you, your highness?” Murmur asked as meekly as she could, which admittedly wasn’t really that meek.
Arita laughed. “How about you stop slaughtering my subjects?”
“We aim to gain strength, Queen Arita. Your subjects are known to be strong, and thus we sought to gain their strength for ourselves.” Murmur spoke the words so fluidly she surprised even herself.
Whatever reaction she’d been expecting from the woman, a gale of laughter was not it.
“Even a well-phrased answer for such a thing. My, my, little psionicist, you are an enigma.” She took a step forward, close to Murmur’s chest, dark eyes blinking up at her. “An enigma, and so much in tune with this world that you could be one of us. Do you want to be one of us, to belong here too?”
The last words were whispered in a soft breath of hot air that sent shivers running through Murmur’s body. There was a tone of enticement in there, like the queen was using her own form of thought projection on her, and it actually took effort to resist it.
Taking a step back, she regarded Queen Arita through narrowed eyes, mellowing the hint of glamor somewhat. She couldn’t tell the dark elf’s class. Considering her only revealed a red aura, which meant messing with the queen was a very bad idea. She didn’t understand why they weren’t being attacked by aggressive monsters.
“I’m just me.” Murmur said before lowering her eyes and taking three steps back toward her group. Tension wove its way around her like a rope as she stood there, and she could only hope she hadn’t given them enough to hang themselves.
Queen Arita’s eyes flashed, and it was difficult to tell if the expression was irritation or amusement. Still she stood in the middle at the first step to her throne, hands on hips while her black hair blew somewhat strategically behind her. For all her small size, she was amazing to behold, a true ruler. Murmur envied her.
“What will you do if I let you go?” Queen Arita smiled, revealing tiny fangs that Murmur hadn’t noticed before.
“We will leave your home and not return.” Murmur found it difficult not to phrase the last as a question.
Arita put her hand to her chin and seriously appeared to be contemplating it. “Not good enough. Not enough at all. Besides, we never get visitors. Try again.” This time the queen took a couple more steps toward Murmur, slowly closing the distance again, her eyes focused on Murmur alone.
A dull throb entered her temples and Murmur focused on reinforcing her shields, wishing for once that Belius had actually shown her some skills instead of relying on her to find them out herself. She shifted her train of thought and concentrated on forcing the words out. “We’ll come and visit?”
Beastial snorted behind her, and somehow turned it into a rather convincing cough, even though from the look on the queen’s face, she was well aware it wasn’t a cough.
Queen Arita laughed and smiled at Murmur. “I approve of this option.”
In four quick strides she stood in front of the psionicist and pressed a deeply-engraved purple hued obsidian disc into her hand. “With this you can freely come and go from my realm. Should you need me, use this as a focus stone and call to me. But remember, if I ever render assistance, I will always expect it to be returned.”
Her swirling eyes threatened to devour Murmur, tugging at her like the edges of a whirlpool. So much that Mur almost wanted to dive into it. This queen was dangerous, and Murmur was almost tempted to find out exactly how.
“Do you understand what I’m offering?”
Murmur didn’t. “You want us to ally with you?”
“In a manner of speaking. I do not wish you to be our enemy, but I will if I must, or am instructed to. But I will not rush to save you, unless you understand that doing so will mean you owe me. Nothing is ever free. Do you understand now?” The queen’s tone was soft, probably not audible to the rest of the group.
Just what in Somnia was going on? Telvar, Belius, Emilarth, and now Arita?
“Is this with me, or with my guild?”
Arita coked her head to one side, a sly smile reaching up to her fathomless eyes for a moment. Her smooth skin shone in the well-lit room. “It is for you, and those who are allied with you. I’d even help Telvar, but his price would increase, of course.”
Of course it would. Leaving the heavy sarcasm in her head, Murmur nodded, finally grasping the proffered coin. But Arita didn’t loosen her grip. Instead she rose up on her tip-toes and tugged until Murmur was slightly off balance befor
e reaching up to plant a soft but definite kiss on her lips. Arita’s lips were warm, and firm, and even during the kiss they held a strange, cruel hint to them.
Murmur stepped back, dazed, sure there was a blush rising in her silver cheeks. Why on earth would an NPC do that? But then again, they weren’t on earth, were they? She pushed down at the warring feelings inside her, annoyed that she couldn’t just reach into the dark elf’s head and pluck those thoughts out. Hand over her mouth she glared at the queen who giggled like a child having pulled a prank before she stepped back and winked.
“The deal is sealed, psionicist. I look forward to a fruitful relationship.”
The guild Fable has completed Dancing with the Devil.
You have sealed the deal with Queen Arita of Hazenthorne, of Nocturn nobility. Seal of reciprocity has been granted.
Caution: Use of the seal requires reciprocation. Be careful of what you wish for.
You have gained experience.
DING.
You have reached level eighteen (18).
Back outside in the cleared courtyard, Murmur stopped. The air was cool, and a breeze made her hair wave in it, right down to the tiny fairy lights at the end of each thick strand. Just breathing in calmed her a little.
“That was...something.” Havoc sounded irritated as he walked up to stand next to her, clasping and unclasping his hands.
Beastial nudged him. “Cheer up, man. Who wouldn’t want to be kissed by that?”
Murmur rounded on him just in time to see Sinister punching him square in the bicep. Biting back a laugh, Murmur began to lose the strange sense of embarrassment she’d had back there. It was barely more than a peck, but that queen had seemed so real, so complex, so defined. Mur reached up to rest her fingertips on her bottom lip, caught up in thoughts about how this world managed to function. She could still feel the chill down her spine, the pressure of another’s lips on her own...
“Mur?” Sin shook her arm. “Are you okay? What’s the plan?”
Murmur blinked. “Sorry, just thinking about something.”
“Bet we know—” Merlin’s jab was cut short. If the sound of impact was anything to go by, Rash had just smacked him in the head.
Shrugging off the teasing, she turned to Sin. “It’s nothing really. Just thinking that the interactions we have within this game are real. It doesn’t matter if it’s an NPC or a player character, they’re so unique it can be difficult to tell the difference.”
Sinister nodded, a small crease forming between her brows, just like it did on her real face when she was thinking something through. A wave of melancholy Mur hadn’t expected followed the realization, and she coughed to clear her throat and head. “Sin?”
Her friend looked up at her, a clouded expression to her eyes. “I’m not even stuck here and I get that feeling too.”
Murmur bit her tongue to refrain from an urge to bite back an answer. “Great to be validated. Thanks.”
The others had already begun moving away from the castle and back to their safe spot. Sin glowered at Murmur, folding her arms across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Murmur looked away, unsure why she suddenly felt so flushed. “Let’s head back to our home base. From there we can go sell our loot in Ululate, or just check and see how the rebuilding is going. We need to catch up with the others.”
“Some of us need sleep, Mur.” Sin’s tone still held a bit of snappiness, as if she didn’t believe Mur’s nothing.
She smiled at her friend, trying to shake off the sadness she felt. “Some of us do, but I am not one of that some. After all, I’m not really awake right now either.”
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices Conference Room
Day Six
Shayla stood as Edward Davenport entered the room, his entourage following close behind. The man rarely appeared anywhere without at least one lawyer present, and today he had three with him, all of them armored in pressed suits of matching black, their ties shiny with hints of red, like drops of blood. Their pale blue shirts underneath were crisp and expensive—she could tell from the way they fit like only a tailor could make them. The only difference was the pattern of the weave, subtle, and yet distinct. More money than ethics.
Teddy had a good head on his shoulders, for business, for money, and for keeping himself free of legal entanglements. He was ruthless in business transactions, and yet considerate of his employees—as long as they didn’t cost him money. It made Shayla wonder just why he’d agreed to the contract for the headgear development. There was so much she didn’t know.
Her boss was a tall man, and they’d based the Vikings somewhat on his appearance, though she’d yet to see if he had any tattoos. He sat down in the oversized chair he reserved for himself as his lawyers fanned out behind him, and he steepled his fingers.
Laria wasn’t at this meeting. Shayla had thought it better she not be there than risk Laria saying something in a fit of annoyance. While Laria was usually well spoken, right now her short temper was unpredictable.
Finally, Teddy spoke, his gruff voice perfectly matching his exterior. “The data you’re compiling is due tomorrow.”
Of course he stated the bleeding obvious. Tomorrow marked seven days of the game being live. She knew Silke, one of Michael’s team leads, and the team were working overtime to compile the data required for the military contract. The thing was, she was uncertain of the particulars they were aiming for. They’d been given such a broad spectrum, she could barely speculate on precisely what the reports were going to be used for. “We’re on track to deliver. It might help if we knew exactly which aspects of the data were being extrapolated.”
Teddy didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t in his nature, and it was the one shining light in the potential clusterfuck of Somnia’s headgear’s capabilities. He fixed her with a very pointed stare, as if deciding if she was worthy of knowing more than she did. She fought down the irritation welling inside her. Military funding let them get the game out in record time, but she’d always known it was a double-edged sword. It was obvious a headset that could evaluate and monitor a person’s personality was going to be of great use for many things. The damned thing could access memories, and even see into a person’s mind. No, that wasn’t a huge potential of a shit storm in the making. At all. Definitely not one she was heading the ship of. If it sank, it would be her head, and she wouldn’t even know why. It was all she could do to refrain from growling at him.
“You’ve been with me for years, Shayla,” he began, and looked down at several notes he’d scribbled on the pad in front of him. “You know I always have the best interests of Storm at heart. This military funding allowed us to branch out, to be at the forefront of the development of technology such as this. Even without Dr. Jeffries we’ve released on time to a fanfare of success.”
“Enough with the spiel, Mr Davenport.” Shayla snapped, her patience suddenly evaporated. This was her career, Laria’s career, and even though he wasn’t aware of it, it was Wren’s life right now. His eyebrows raised a little in surprise, but otherwise he sat while she gathered her thoughts. These were people’s secrets, these were people’s brains they were talking about here, their innermost thoughts and experiences. “I know it’s doing well, but it hasn’t even been a week. What exactly are the brain scans being used for?”
Teddy leaned back, a glance at his lawyer who nodded his head almost imperceptibly. The suit would never make it as a rogue, not stealthy enough. “To be honest, they’re helping us refine the headset. Based on the information given, our supporters will request minor adjustments so we can retrieve the exact information they need. Headgear like this will be used for military training purposes, and thus must be calibrated in such a way that the trainees’ experiences are as real as possible.”
Shayla fr
owned. Even though his words made sense, it was too simple. She knew there was something he was glossing over, or still not telling her, because she refused to contemplate that he might not know. Teddy Davenport hadn’t gotten to his station in life by not knowing the details.
Fine. Two could play at that game. She had no reason to tell him about Wren, nor did she have any reason to reveal her suspicions about their AIs to him. At least, not yet. Shayla smiled and nodded, trying to make the expression as sincere as possible. “Excellent. We’re running a few extra tests to make sure the algorithms in the headset are performing optimally.”
A small frown flickered at the corner of Teddy’s mouth. Shayla waited, her smile still fixed in place, her pleasantness draped neatly over it. Counting to ten in her head had never taken so long before. She knew her boss was running her words over in his mind. Screwing around with people’s brains wasn’t exactly a legal grey area anymore. The only thing saving the project was this military connection. At least, she supposed it was. Data was a rife battleground these days.
“Please let us know if you find any discrepancies. We’re on a clock for this. It might be a long one, but these things have a way of creeping up on us sometimes.” He only half-smiled as he pushed himself to his feet.
Shayla didn’t have long to contemplate those words. Had she said too much in her effort to hide what she knew? She let her grin widen and reach her eyes as she leaned forward to shake his hand. “The team is all over those reports. They’ll be on time.”
His hand shake was vigorous, energetic, like he’d regained the confidence that always plagued his steps. Still, that one crack she’d seen was worth gold. “Keep me updated. I want daily reports sent to my office. I’ll communicate the exact parameters to Silke, and have her pass them onto you, so I don’t make extra work for you. I know you have your hands full.”