by Deck Davis
After we’d gone over the map so many times that I was sick of looking at it, I realized something. It was 4:00 a.m. The battle started in six hours, and I hadn’t had any sleep. Not only that, but Eddie and Wolfy still hadn’t gotten back from wherever they were.
~
It was four hours later when our dorm room burst open. In came the chatter of other fighters in the corridor. Eddie was the first to run into the room, but there was something different about him. His face was pale, but it wasn’t through lack of sleep. It was something else.
“Where the hell have you been?” I asked. I got up off my bunk and stretched. I’d allowed myself a few hours of sleep. I sniffed and became painfully aware that I stank of B.O. With two hours before the VBR, I’d barely have time to shower. The gel capsule technicians were going to hate me.
Eddie scratched his head. His cocky manner was still there in his actions, but it was a little muted. “Yeah…I, uh…”
“Out with it,” said Glora, sounding much older than her twenty-six years.
“Wolfy’s in hospital,” said Eddie.
This shocked the tiredness from me. The news hit me so hard it made my insides wrap up tight, like a spring held down by tension, ready to snap. “He’s what? Where were you? What happened?”
“When we went for a walk last night,” said Eddie, “we…uh…stared to thinkin’ that the city center wasn’t too far away. It’s those neon lights, man. They’re like Sirens, y’know, those weird naked chicks who tempt sailors into bad waters and then drown them?”
“You’re babbling,” I said.
“We decided to sneak into the city and go for a drink. Just one. And that’s all we had, I promise you.”
“I’m not your dad, Eddie, so you don’t need to look so guilty are around me. Just tell me what happened.”
“We went for a whiskey, like I said. Found a joint in the jazz quarter called Billy’s Blues. We settled at the back, had a little drink, watched a band play a little music, and then we left.”
“I’m still not understanding how this ended in Wolfy getting hospitalized,” said Glora.
“When we went outside, we musta taken a different door,” said Eddie. “’Cos we ended up in this alleyway. Y’know, the type where rain’s always fallin’ out of gutters? Pretty sure there was a homeless man watching us from the other end, too. Think he had a cat with him.”
“Eddie…” warned Glora.
This admonishment straightened him out. “So, we’re getting our bearings when a guy came up to us. Told us we owed him money for the ‘product’ we’d bought from him. I told him ‘listen, fella, I’m straight as a metal dice. I didn’t buy a thing from you,’ but he didn’t believe us—either that, or he pretended not to. Then he clicked his fingers, and three other guys step away from a wall opposite us, out of the shadows. I’m telling you, I didn’t see them at first. It was only when he clicked that I noticed them. Musta been waiting there all along.”
“And then what?” I said.
“I was gonna pay. I‘ve got a few hundred in my personal wallet. But the guy wanted four-hundred from me and four-hundred from Wolfy, and you know what the big man’s like with money. Every bit he saves is for his dad. So, he said no.”
Glora sighed. “I think I can tell where this is going. Things got out of hand, I take it?”
“Waaaaay out of hand. The situation slipped right out of our hands, in fact. Like a baseball covered in oil.”
I paced the room. “Shit. And he’s in hospital? Can we see him? Can we get him out?”
Eddie shook his head. “Doc said he’s got a concussion.”
“You look pretty shiny and brand new,” said Glora.
“They used one of those gel-pens on me,” said Eddie. “The cosmetic stuff. Covers bruises. If they hadn’t, my eye would look like a plum.”
I felt like a big set of rusted iron gears that someone had thrown a spanner into. My whole mind stopped working, and instead ran the same loop over and over: We’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re screwed.
“We’re screwed,” said Glora.
“I’m really sorry, guys. Honestly. It was just one drink. We were leaving and comin’ back here, for God sakes.”
Eddie collapsed against the wall and put his head in his hands. At that moment, I knew I couldn’t be mad at him. It was clear that his apology was genuine. I never believed in heaping a load onto someone who was already bearing enough as it was. Eddie was a young guy in a big city, and he’d gone for a drink. What happened after that wasn’t his doing.
“We just need to think,” I said. “The VBR’s two hours away.”
“A hundred and fifteen minutes,” said Glora.
I looked at her. “We’re just going to have to find a replacement. That’s all there is to it.”
“Maybe if we went to see Wolfy…” said Glora.
“Nope. They won’t let someone with a concussion anywhere near a VBR, but the overseers’ regurgitations…regulations…state that we can swap a team member who’s had to pull out through injury. We just need someone to step into Wolfy’s place.” I thought about who we could ask. Dylan would have been an option, but he was back at the ranch. He’d never get here in two hours. Even if he did, Bennie and the hounds would be alone, and I’d rather lose the VBR completely than do something like that. “Do you know anyone who could step in?” I said to Eddie.
“This isn’t my scene,” he answered. “I don’t know any of the folks here.”
There was silence as we brooded on the problem. With time draining down the plug hole, we were out of options.
Glora broke the silence. “I know someone,” she said.
“Who?” asked Eddie and I, in unison.
“You’re not going to like it…”
“At this point,” I said. “You could tell me Beelzebub is joining the team, and I’d fetch him a T-shirt with ‘Team Perlshaw’ printed on it.”
“Good,” said Glora. “In that case, you might be a little more amenable to my suggestion.”
“Come on, then. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“Well,” said Glora, “you know how I told you I got this map from Rynk, and how he’s not fighting in the VBR…”
Chapter Four
120 Teams Remaining
“Woooooooooo-hooooo, partner!” shouted Rynk, uncomfortably close to my ear. The wind seemed to be in a hurry to rush past us as the zeppelin cut through the frothy clouds. It was the kind of gale that snatched your breath from your mouth before your lungs had a chance to enjoy it. The sky was a murky color, dark like onion soup.
The zeppelin’s balloon was stretched tight like the leather of an old football. A flag mounted at the back of the ship, bearing the Overseers’ Commission logo, billowed left to right and made a cracking noise like a whip. An exhaust pipe on the rear-end of the zeppelin churned out black smoke. It smelt of smog: pure, raw pollution. Not real pollution, of course. This was the safe kind, the VBR kind.
It was a rickety contraption. I didn’t like the rattle of screws or the whine of gears coming from the only thing stopping us from plummeting into the angry-looking sea below us. This zeppelin was shaped like a pirate’s galleon, with a bulbous balloon above replacing a sail. Lines of rope looped here and there. Given this was virtual and there was nobody flying the thing, I doubted there was a practical use for them. Across from us, on the left and right, were two other galleon zeppelins, making us look like a sky armada.
Soon, of course, we’d see the green and yellow colors that marked the hills and pastures below us, and we’d have to jump from the zeppelin. Every team would disembark at a signal from their team captain. This signal would only be given after a careful study of the map. As such, almost every team captain on the zeppelin appeared to be staring at thin-air when, really, they were scanning their freshly-loaded terrain maps. I didn’t need to do that. Since we’d acquired advance notice of the map, I already knew it like the freckles on my hand. I knew that I had at least three minut
es until we hit solid terrain, and another minute after that before it was time to jump.
Rynk excitedly drummed his fingers on the metal rail that ran all around the zeppelin. He was an uncontrollable ball of energy. I fully believed that if it weren’t for the sharks put in place to stop such things, he would have leaped from the zeppelin and into the sea, where he’d swim for shore and still beat us to the landing spot. Was I glad to have him with us? I wasn’t sure. We hadn’t had much of a choice.
There had only been an hour before the VBR when Rynk agreed to join us. I had to send Glora into the city center to find him, only to unearth him from his sleep under a table in an acid funk club. Two double-dose caffeine pills and half a purge pill had brought him back to the land of the living, and he’d agreed to join us.
“For a price,” he said.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I answered.
“Fifty percent of the team’s bit reward.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Forty percent.”
“I’d have Overseer Lucas on the team before I agreed to that.”
“Thirty? Twenty-five? Twenty?”
“Nope, nope, nope.”
“We all signed contracts,” said Eddie. “Our personal rewards are five percent of whatever the team wins. The rest goes to Perlshaw.”
“For Arin’s damn library, I take it?” said Rynk.
Glora nodded. I had been worried she would act strangely around Rynk because they used to date, but she didn’t seem to care. Apparently, he knew all about the town and their treasure trove buried in the hill. I was surprised he’d never tried to profit from his knowledge.
“C’mon, Rynky-poo. Reach deep inside and find the charred remains of what used to be your heart,” said Glora.
“I’m reaching… I’m reaching….” said Rynk. “Nope. It’s gone. A twisted dragon-wrench must have grinded it down and then eaten the dust to fuel her demon soul.”
“You two make a lovely couple,” said Eddie.
“I guess I’ll have to tell the overseers we’re not competing,” I said. “While I’m at it, I better hand in this map that someone sent me. Looks stolen. Think the person who sent it could get in trouble.”
“Son of a bitch,” said Rynk.
I looked him in the eye. “Five percent, like the rest of us. You fight with all you’ve got, and we’ll pay you fair and square.”
“Fine. Let’s do it, partner.”
With that, we’d left the fighter’s quarters and headed to the VBR center, where our gel capsules awaited. Just forty minutes later, New Eden was gone. Now, we stood n a zeppelin with the terrain at a dizzying depth beneath us. Soon, we’d be leaping off this sky contraption and plummeting toward the ground, where the battle royale would officially begin. This was always my least favorite part. I had to remind myself that (a) it wasn’t real and (b) nothing could attack you in the sky. It was technically the safest part of the whole thing, as the other fighters on the zeppelin couldn’t hurt you yet.
The others didn’t seem half as tense as me. To occupy myself, I focused on them and how their avatars looked. While my old team had modified their avatars heavily – Sera with her green skin, Clyde with this giant bear avatar, Vorm with his muscles and cigar – Team Perlshaw hadn’t bothered. Eddie looked like Eddie with his red hair and wide eyes, and Glora looked her normal self, with her arm tattoo, her long pig tails and her pointy nose. It was only Rynk, with his face modified to resemble a death mask, who was drastically different. This made me think that how much you modified your avatar’s appearance said a lot about you, and that it was a good sign that Eddie and Glora stayed true to their real-life appearance while they were in-game. Rynk, on the other hand, did no such thing.
Now that Rynk was on my team rather than fighting me, I was able to see his skills. His class wasn’t anything to do with spiders, as I’d first thought back when we went toe-to-toe in Autumn Steampunk. Rynk was a blade savant. This made him an expert with any kind of blade, from a clunky broadsword to an elegant katana. As well as that, his skills were heavily combat-focused:
Wall Walk – Use arcane energy to stick to walls and ceilings.
Blade Float – Lift and move your blades up to 10 ft away from you, allowing you to strike enemies from a distance.
Whirling Knife – Become a tornado of knives, impossible to hit and ripping through enemies like butter.
Pulse of Death – Magnify your own damage tremendously for a certain time. When this period ends, you are incapacitated for the same length of time.
It was a hideously unbalanced avatar, in my view. In the early waves of the battle, he’d be sitting sweet. Combat-heavy classes always prospered at first. But then, the other classes would level up their non-combat skills to their full potential and combine them with other skills in deadly ways. Rynk, as a blade savant, would find himself obsolete when the latter stages loomed.
As for me, I couldn’t help thinking that I was built for the long game. The abermorph was weaker than a kitten at first. Seriously, that was no exaggeration. At least a kitten had claws, whereas I would start with nothing. If I could just stay alive long enough to start stealing skills and proficiencies, I had a chance.
“Okay everyone,” I told the team. “We’ll be jumping in a minute. Last chance to check your maps and peruse your stats.”
Heeding my own advice, I gave my character sheet one last peek:
Harry Wollenstein
Abermorph – Level 0
HP: 100/100
Stamina: 80/80
Mana: 150/150
Skills
- Morph Armorer (Level 0) – Steal a weapon proficiency from another fighter by touching them [One steal per skill level]
- Terrain Drain (Level 0) – Wield the elements of the map to construct things
- Abmeleon (Level 0) – Camouflage yourself into the terrain around you for a limited time [25 mana/min]
- Skill Steal (Level 0) – Steal a skill from a fighter by killing them [One steal per level; stolen skill can only be used once for each level of skill]
Inventory
- Rune of Lesser Healing
A single-use rune that heals between 60-80 HP
[+60-80 HP]
Getting a weapon proficiency using the Armorer skill would be my number one priority. Without it, I was reduced to using my fists, and I was no boxer. Luckily, this skill relied on touching a person to steal their skill, which meant that I could do it to a teammate. Eddie had already agreed that I could steal one of his sword proficiencies when we landed. First, I’d need to get to level one so that I could choose the Armorer ability.
“We all ready?” I said.
Eddie gave me the thumbs up while Glora gave a grim nod. Rynk stared out of the zeppelin at the terrain, ignoring us.
“Okay, let me check the drop zone,” I said. I accessed my holo-menu and pulled up the map. A blue, rectangular overlay appeared in front of me. The terrain began to draw itself in, inch by inch, completing a portrait of the battle map within a millisecond. A sinking feeling slugged me in the gut. This wasn’t the right map. The one Rynk had sold to us was completely different, which meant we’d spent all night strategizing for a map we weren’t even fighting on.
There had to be a mistake. “Glora, Eddie, can you guys check your maps?” I gave them a few seconds, but even that level of patience was hard. I drummed my fingers on the barrier that kept us tumbling out of the zeppelin. I felt like walking over to Rynk and tossing him over it.
Patience, I told myself. Give him the benefit of the doubt.
“What the hell?” said Eddie.
Glora followed this with, “You son of a bitch.” She grabbed Rynk and turned him away from the terrain so that he faced her. She prodded him in the chest. “You screwed us over, you shitbag,” she said. She prodded him again. “What was it? Just some map you pulled out of your arse?” She was a picture of fury. Even Eddie looked annoyed. I felt anger start to heat in my stomach like red coals
, but I knew that as captain, I had to keep things like that under control.
Rynk held his hands out. “Listen, doll,” he told Glora, “If I’d screwed you over by selling you a hokey map, would I really have agreed to join your team and follow you to the exact place where my deception would be uncovered?”
“Guy’s got a point,” said Eddie.
Glora prodded him again. “He’s a liar, Eds. That’s why we broke up.”
Rynk smiled. “Don’t kid yourself, gal. We broke up because I had places to be, people to see, things to—” A sharp prod and an even sharper stare from Glora forced him to shut up.