“It is odd using our right arms for anything,” Gayle murmured. She looked at the band on the mirrored wall.
“Don’t I know it.” David felt his hidden armband. He shivered. I need to get this off, or I am dead—or worse.
The dark caverns under the Orns campus served an impressive network of trains. The tunnels branched out in all directions like an organized anthill. There were trains for employees, trains for supplies, trains for guests, and secret trains for leadership personnel. After thirty minutes of rocketing through the underground tunnels, the group arrived on a platform that read medieval storyworld staff entrance 26@287. They rode an escalator up a barely lit hallway, flickering lights clinging to the rock tunnel like mold . At the top of the stairs where the lighting got better, they followed their guides past twenty or so doors. As they walked, the three swiveled their heads in all directions, trying to read as many of the signs as they could.
“Try to remember how we got here,” Patrick whispered. He looked a bit worried. He looked lost. “My internal compass is bewildered.”
“This facility is very well organized for being this massive,” David said as he stepped onto a moving section of floor that zipped the group around a turn and into a glowing blue hallway toward another door. “We ain’t getting out of here without some help.”
Some of the doors they passed read farming product development and testing, clothing, machinery, actor emergency medical extraction, sword and knife unit, moonz storyline team, the sonz, fish hatchery support, and on and on. After five minutes they disembarked at a simple black door designated transitory bubble entrance—training.
As they walked toward the door, Gayle said, “I noticed one of the units we passed, a couple doors back that way”—she waved behind them—”had a lot of staff activity near it.” David looked back, wondering what Gayle was hinting at.
Their guide answered, “You must mean the Filming Division. Those teams operate day and night to support the bubble and to get the film to the public. Our actors wear hidden cameras.”
“Next to that unit. It said ‘Broken, Slaver Series.’” She paused. “Expansion pack? I thought even slavery was off limits to Orns.”
A beaming, gloating smile passed over Alejandra’s full rose-colored lips. She winked. “That is part of the surprise for Medieval Storyworld!”
“I thought there was no slavery in Storyworld.” Gayle looked to David for validation.
“I’ve watched every episode. There is no culture of slavery,” he confirmed. “Captured prisoners maybe. But none of the groups trade in people for profit. People is a business. The Sonz are fighting to save their realm. The Moonz are brutal and take prisoners but only to conquer. They don’t sell people into slavery.”
“The paint looked really fresh on that hallway section. As if it was recently renovated,” Patrick noted.
“Yes, yes, you are all observant. You’re going to ruin the surprise!” Alejandra wagged a long, disapproving finger at them.
“Inquisitive investors ask tough questions,” Gayle explained with an innocent flash of white teeth.
“We recently had a huge investment campaign pass the final approval for the Storyworld bubble. New funds, ideas, products, support staff, and actors have all been moved into that department.”
“So slavery is coming to Xchange entertainment?” David mused. “Expansion packs will rewrite the code of ethics in Alexoria. The monarch has forbade outright slavery.”
Patrick nudged him as if to remind him of his slaves. He thought about Lave Labs. Nnect purchased human being slaves. That was different, though. Orns must have paid to change some policy in Xchange to allow this new launch.
“Donk would love to debate the political correctness of the slavery theory that Orns has developed,” Gayle said in a blunt tone to Alejandra.
“Mindmonk Gustavus has a soft spot for the human-doings of Xchange. A shame sentiment forbids experiment. He has a brilliant mind.”
With that, Madam Alejandra broke off the discussion. She motioned in front of the black door, triggering a hidden sensor. A middle-aged man with a full suit of armor emerged from behind the door. The armor clanked, and the knight stomped his feet angrily.
“He’th thut dares to entir’re must farst slay meh!” the man yelled, brandishing a double-edged sword that reflected the hallway light’s neon blue glow threateningly. The three guests jumped back, startled, and looked for a place to flee.
“Alejandra, my scarlet princess!” The knight smiled so wide his lips almost cracked, and he waved at the three scared guests. Clanking in his armor, he knelt before their tour guide. “What, may I request of my lovely governess, have you brought to our humble team today?”
“Stop terrorizing our guests.” She smiled apologetically. “Gets them every time.”
“Sir Trainer at your disposal.” Drawl gone, the man stood and beckoned them all inside to an impressive training facility. Not enormous, but it was decked out like a dreamland. The room was a dizzying blend of high-tech modern science and rustic medieval life. It was odd to see men and women in partial suits of armor, brown farming robes, bright merchant colors, and much more were walking around using computers and shouting out orders into microphones at workstations.
“This is the land between lands,” the knight said. “A sacred gateway into Medieval Storyworld. And you three need to be brought up to speed.”
“Jutan, can you get them all prepared and into their tour trip in two hours?” Alejandra asked.
“Two hours is tight.” Jutan, the training knight, frowned. “I insist to management that we need proper training for our tours. The groups we bring into this world should have three days of training as a minimum safety requirement.”
“They’re not going into combat. Your story guides and observing staff will make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“The world is ever changing. This is no planned or static TV production. This is a living, breathing, dangerous dwelling place for savages!” The man threw his hands above his head, clanking in his armor, to exaggerate his position. “And the savages are at war!” David liked this Jutan. He was charismatic.
“That is exactly why this is so special. And exactly why our investors want to see what we do,” Alejandra said, then turned to David, Gayle, and Patrick. “Jutan is the best trainer we have, and his team will have you ready to go. I shall return for you in the evening after your trip into Storyworld. We’ll relax at the beach bar in Real World and discuss your adventures tonight.”
A member from Jutan’s team began to outfit the group in merchant robes. Alejandra headed for the door. Jutan followed her, and David heard him whisper, “Alejan, tell management I need the new unit down the hall to stop taking all my supplies. That old fat fool keeps barging in here and stealing things while I am out in the bubble. He waves a management permit at my staff, and they do nothing. I’m short on swords, arrows, trading supplies, and horses because of that new pet slave project.”
“Come over here, Jutan. Let’s chat.” The woman’s rose lips blew Jutan a beckoning kiss as she continued toward the door. David strained to hear more as the two huddled by the entrance. David overheard Alejandra say, “No promises…mention to the team leader at the slavery unit…cannot drain your training supplies. Proper protocol is to request from the inventory…don’t start a power struggle.”
Without discretion, Jutan shouted, “If we encounter unforeseen issues in the bubble because my men don’t have their usual gear, we could be killed.” Jutan waved angrily in the direction of the slavery unit. “That sweating bastard keeps taking all our finest apparatuses. Just warn management that I’ll delay the tours if I think it is unsafe. Tell the new team to follow proper procedures and stay out of my trousers. I don’t like having my pants stolen from my legs. Gives me a chill in all the wrong spots.”
“That new project is very important,” she reprimanded him emphatically. “Jutan, don’t step on the wrong toes on this one. Tread lightly. Make do
with what we have. Keep the tours going.”
“Alejan, promise me.”
She relented, “OK, I’ll speak to management.”
With that, she left. David thought the dialogue was odd, but he didn’t comprehend what the exchange was about.
The following two hours were very exciting—a dream come true for David, the avid Storyworld subscriber. The team of trainers took the guests through a crash course on how to act and travel in Storyworld.
“I can’t believe you get to be a knight. I’d work here!” Patrick said. Even he was impressed.
“I told you knights were the best,” David said to Patrick. “I wish swords could be used in the real world.”
“The products and trainers don’t work here and then go home. This is their home,” Gayle reminded them. “And your Tara may also get thrown to the wolves in there.”
David, Patrick, and Gayle did practice sessions with the knives they would be taking into the bubble. Gayle learned to shoot a bow and arrow. The two young men fought with wooden staffs in a sparring pit for a brief forty-five minutes. All three got a lecture on emergency survival, and they were given discreet digital map devices, which showed the exit gateways between the bubble and Orns in case they were separated from the group. Another lecture instructed them on how to talk and act in the marketplace town they were visiting.
A man in a simple gray robe approached, bowing, “Arrod the venturer at your service. In my realm, you’ll keep me in sight at all times. I’ll be the sweat on your backside, the breath of the wind on your neck, and the annoying itch that won’t leave your side.” He was a certified tour guide bodyguard, and he would be team lead on their journey to the marketplace. “We will pose as farmers going to market. The team will be selling cabbage and carrots as our disguise. Marketown is a neutral town and strictly enforces a no-violence policy.”
Jutan joined them. “It should be a safe enough place for tourists. Arrod is a good guide. Remember, actors don’t have communication devices inside the bubble because it destroys the authenticity of the world. Tech inside the world, other than our filming cameras, which are disguised, could lead to trouble if the locals found the devices. Once inside, you are inside until you find a gate out.”
“Gather around. Our group of merchant farmers will head to town in ten minutes,” Arrod said as the two hours of training ended. “We will approach from the north of Marketown.” He indicated the location on the map. “Here.” He waved his hand in a circle at the group. “Get it inta your skulls, a group of farmers coming to market for the day. There is a festival in town, so it’ll be easy to make our way around without drawing too much attention to ourselves.” Leading them from the map to the entrance to the stalls, which reeked like jobless beggars, he said, “We use Marketown to introduce new products, new information, and new people into Medieval Storyworld. Because Marketown is neutral, we avoid getting caught up in the main stories that are filmed on episodes. The digital maps will only activate on your voice commands. Maps’ll respond to no one else and self-destruct in two days.” Arrod rambled through the rest of the instructions, and David watched as he pointed out the names for the beasts that were packed for the trip; the other team members were waiting for the word to leave. They could see some of the major villages and troop movements on the map. David was very excited.
And then something unexpected happened. The door behind them banged open, rocking the entrance on its hinges. Boom. Everyone in the training room stopped and looked up from what they were doing.
“The king slaver has arrived!” The greasy palms, bouncing belly rolls, and slick bald head belonged to none other than the traitor Grandpa Greg.
“The monster gives himself a nickname.” Jutan shouted, “The spineless wench appears while the man is at home for once.”
“Which one of you profitless losers told management I wasn’t allowed to use their swords for my new expedition into the bubble?”
“Oh muddled stock shit,” David moaned. “Grandpa Greg is here.”
Gayle and Patrick looked confused. “You OK?” Gayle said as he went pale.
David ducked under the table. “Don’t let him see me. He’ll turn us in before we know where Tara is, before we find proof of his conspiracy against Nnect!”
“Who is he?” Gayle and Patrick asked concurrently.
“The man that stole Tara. Stole your wife from me. More tragically, the reason I’m going to lose my job and my precious Nnect brand.”
Before Grandpa Greg could see David or Gayle, Jutan was running to the door and stood in front of him on the observation platform. “Go to HR and shuck your shit off, you waste of stock air!” He held out his armored hand to stop the older manager from coming into his territory. “I’ve been working successfully to bring investments into the bubble for a lot longer than your little start-up.”
It all happened so fast. Jutan and Grandpa Greg started cursing each other out. Arrod looked at his watch and indicated to the team that the gate was open. “Let’s not dawdle for that duffos to take more gear. Get goin’.” Time to begin their journey. The group started leaving the room in their new clothes. “Boy, stop hiding under a basket.” Arrod grabbed the wicker contraption that David had put over his head, hiding his face from his archnemesis.
Grandpa Greg and David made eye contact. Recognition filled his tormentor, and David filled with dread. “You devious plummeting stock! How dare you take them into the bubble.” Grandpa Greg strode toward the tour group with every intention of stopping them. “Stop that employee—yes, the dump blond with the audacity to call himself a manager.”
Jutan looked back at Arrod, who was guiding David’s party toward the gate into Medieval world. “Keep going, keep going,” David begged those in front of him, shaking with fear. The packhorses in the next room whinnied expectantly, waiting for a trip. The supplies were ready. The other two escorts were already mounted. Jutan waved at Arrod to pause. “Why should I pause my trip?” he asked Grandpa Greg. “You have no authority here.”
Grandpa Greg ignored Jutan and screamed across to David, “Come here, boy. Get back in my closet where you belong.”
David thought frantically, I have no proof to convict him yet. We’ll be killed by Greg or worse if I can’t convince Jutan to let the group get away from Grandpa Greg.
Improvising, David yelled, “You can’t have our horses. You backstabbing anti–team player. Daring to steal our property, weapons, and supplies while we’re working in the bubble. Now you return demanding our horses right as we embark on a trip?”
This got Jutan angry, thinking one of his team had made the claim. Jutan motioned for Arrod to continue the tour. “How dare you take my horses. Too far!”
“I want that man, not your horses!” But no one heard him. Jutan thought Grandpa Greg was trying to take more supplies, and he pulled out his sword as Grandpa Greg rushed forward. He was still fifty feet away from David. Jutan twisted in a graceful arc, knelt, and swung the flat side of his sword across Grandpa Greg’s legs. Grandpa Greg toppled like a top-heavy tree.
“The gate is open—shuttle train is ready. Hurry,” Jutan’s gate manager said to Arrod.
“Kick your horses!” Arrod commanded.
David, Patrick, Gayle, and their escorts rode into another train tunnel that led to an access point in Medieval Storyworld. David looked back as the doors shut and saw Grandpa Greg stand on his shaky legs and curse him.
He shivered and rode onto the barge-like train platform. Once they were all on board, the platform began to move, a hidden motor on its underside propelling the group through a dark tunnel. The twilight zone. They came out in a transport docking room, unloaded, and followed a lit hallway that smelled of rock and horses.
“We are discovered. Grandpa Greg is searching for us and has the upper hand. Damn his luck,” David said to himself.
But for now they were hidden, because as David remembered, Jutan had said, “Actors don’t have communication devices inside the bubble be
cause it destroys the authenticity of the world. Tech inside the world, other than our filming cameras, which are disguised, could lead to trouble if the locals found the devices. Once inside, you are inside until you find a gate out.”
Chapter 41
Tourist of Fantasy
Quarter 1, Day 21
The steel gate closed behind them with an ominous swish of lubricated metal. Sheer disjointed cliffs reared up, surrounding the disguised group of farmers, their horses, and their two rustic wooden carts. The jagged walls rose over a hundred feet around them in shades of earthy black and red. A cheery yellow sun shone through a slot between the soaring walls. The odd band rode a short distance before passing under a carved arch in the side of the cliff.
“An inception.” Gayle stared at the new world they entered. “Double the deception is a truth, correct?”
“Triple, is it?” David replied in question. Their voices hissed and bounced off the stone in an eerie manner.
“I wonder what a life of compounded inception is called.” And they left it at that. Each to their thoughts.
The horses beat a steady cadence on the well-worn path, which had been made smooth by the passing of years and people. The team commander, Arrod, leaped off his horse as they entered a narrow cave. The cave was twenty feet wide and fifteen feet high; David could almost touch the drooping stalactites from his seat on the horse’s saddle. Riding was new and painful, but the brief crash course enabled him to sit straight as his easygoing mare followed the lead horse. These horses were trained to carry inexperienced riders, swaying with docile steps. He was pretty sure if the horse took off galloping, there would be little he could say about it. Patrick also had a feverish grip on the main of his ride. Gayle seemed more comfortable on her horse than either of them, more in tune with her steed.
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