by Ed White
He answers on the second ring. “You ready, or are you having second thoughts, because I’ll hang up right now.”
“Yeah, I’m going in now, you gonna be there?”
“Need someone to hold your hand?”
Finally, Jonesy jokes. I guess he was just tired.
“I can’t help you with character creation, but I’ll find you once you spawn in the Haven. See you then.”
“Later.”
Donning the head set and placing the forehead jewel, I dry swallow one of the pills and lay back on the couch.
It hits me like the first time, that overwhelming sense of release, euphoria, an escape from the pain I feel every day. The tunnel of light, like hyperspace, flows around me and I emerge in the vast darkened hall, lit by the irregular crystal shapes.
The booming voice sounds in my head.
Welcome to the Lenscape.
The meditating monk hovers in the lotus position below the central crystal sphere, doing his thing, contemplating reality.
I’m in the Citadel Crystalline again.
Looking down, my body is white, glowing with a silver aura, naked without naughty bits or much of any details. I’ve no lines or fingernails on my hands or toes. I rub my hand over a bald head. Cool. Time to roll my character.
Chapter Seven
Interlude
Julia stood at the wall-to-ceiling windows of her new corner office overlooking the Connecticut Science Center and Connecticut River beyond. Arriving in Hartford after the recent Lenscape incident, Julia remained uncertain about the duration of her stay. She preferred the head offices of the Beechum Corporation, and her home, in Texas.
For decades, the Beechum Corporation worked in the military industrial complex, developing the leading, top-secret weapons and armor of the period. Then the Beechum Corporation, one of the older of the American companies born in the twilight of the nineteenth century, merged with numerous leading corporations to form the Conglomerate for Gaea’s Greater Good, gaining a socioeconomic reach unheard-of.
A chime from her desk phone drew her attention away from the windows. “Yes?”
“Miss Beechum, they’ll be ready for you in a few more minutes. I’ll alert you then.”
“Please do.”
“I will.”
Julia ran her finger along the nameplate on the large, dark, mahogany desk.
Julia Beechum.
Beyond operations in North America, her family maintained European holdings in the old world and conducted the majority of business under the Beechum name. How strange for Julia, of the newest generation, to head up development of the Lenscape.
This was new, the Lenscape offices and oversight over much of the project entrusted to her team.
The phone chimed again.
“Miss Beechum, they’re ready for you.”
Julia sighed—time to make her report.
***
Entering the conference room, Julia hesitated. A sun-weathered man with white hair sat at the head of the enormous conference table, smiled at her. He gestured a come-hither motion and she cursed herself inwardly for the unintended pause.
She’d expected “they”—she hadn’t expected this. Sitting at the end of the long table in the vast conference room was Joseph Beechum, the family patriarch and Conglomerate board member, and David Grey.
“Julia, how goes the work?”
Julia maintained her cool, suppressed her surprise. “On schedule, with the expected obstacles.”
Joseph leaned forward, resting his elbows on the long table, his bust reflected in the polished surface, gesturing toward David. “Yes, about those ‘obstacles’, and specifically, Mr. Grey. What is your opinion of him?”
Before her brief, direct interaction with David, Julia and her team carried out an extensive study of the former salesman and business major. She knew of his nervous system disorder and his dedication to work, family, and friends. That same loyalty meant the non-disclosure agreement was almost unnecessary if it meant forming a solid, honest relationship between him and the Conglomerate—a relationship Julia intended to cultivate with David.
“Mr. Grey values loyalty and will give it, should we foster a sense of family.”
Family. Joseph studied Julia with intensity before he spoke again. “His entire gamer group took part in the instance.”
Glancing at David, Julia nodded. “Yes, that’s our entry point. His friends.”
Joseph leaned back and waved his left hand in a circle. “And these intrusions into the Lenscape? They’re becoming quite common.”
“Yes, and I feel David, Mr. Grey, to be an ideal candidate for another of our undercover moderators, given our directive to avoid unwanted media, any attention.”
Joseph nodded. “Yes, this remains an internal matter, and our division is well versed in the ‘delicacy’ necessary to ensure the desired outcome.”
The delicacy meaning the secrecy necessary—her family definitely possessed the experience and history with delicate matters, from the days of the Civil War to the importance of Centinel’s intelligence resources in both world wars.
The elder Beechum continued. “What of the incident itself, and his gaining control of the Battle Avatar body? Is there a precedent for this?”
“In a distrain or developer login, and crowd control actions of course, but not in David’s case. Mr. Grey had yet to respawn and appeared to jump to the available avatar while Mr. Bledstoe struggled to regain his connection.”
Joseph steepled his fingers
Julia considered replaying a recording of the instance, but chose to wait for Joseph to continue—he had surely viewed it to his satisfaction. He gave a slight dip of his head.
“And the others?”
Frowning, Julia clasped her hands in front of her belt buckle. “Others? The other players? The intruders who entered the Lenscape in the training levels?”
“The intruders. How did they enter? How did the event occur?”
That was the question. The system vulnerabilities remained a constant frustration. “Variables we continue to iron out. Intruders have attacked the Lenscape through valid users exploiting necessary coding required by the interface and Dream Walker protocols.” She paused, looking at David, before Joseph indicated she continue. “The Lenscape experienced an error that arose after the system reached a sudden lack of capacity. The system was overtaxed and slowed dramatically. Of course, we initiated an immediate instance, quarantined the section of the Wilds and applied a patch.”
“Have you determined what taxed the system?”
“No. That is the purpose of Mr. Grey and these new moderators to locate and identify the intruders.”
“Extending the use of moderators within the game seems a wise choice, but the Board is meeting in a week’s time to discuss the Lenscape.”
“The Board, or the Lenscape board?”
“The entire Board of the Conglomerate.”
That was almost unheard of. Retreats among the Board members occurred often enough, but a meeting to address a project like the Lenscape only served to underscore the immense importance of the project.
Joseph’s eyebrow raised as his gaze remained on her. The intention clear—don’t shame the Beechum family name.
The meeting seemed over with that silent point made, until Joseph leaned back into his black leather chair and Julia’s cousin, Amanda Beechum, stepped into the room from the executive offices behind Joseph. Her raven hair and darker eyes marked her as a true Texan Beechum. She stood with her air of confidence, in a grey skirt and jacket, with her larger breasts, curvaceous hips and tanned skin—the bitch.
His palm up and to his side, Joseph gestured in Amanda’s direction. “Amanda will shadow you while you Dream Walk and continue your work here.” He swung his hand around toward Julia. “You will enter the Lenscape and monitor Mr. Grey.”
The intention was always to meet with and monitor David, but Julia did not intend to Dream Walk her job responsibilities and live wit
hin the Lenscape.
“Am I to remain at his side?” It was meant with subtle sarcasm, gesturing toward the silent David Grey sitting there at the table, but Joseph ignored it.
“There’s always the possibility of your drawing attention from intruders. So as you say, sending undercover moderators, informants if you will, is a sound choice. Others will watch when you cannot, at all times. You’ve done well, Julia.”
That seemed to be that, the end of the meeting, but once again, Joseph had more to reveal. “However, your time will be better spent traveling the Lenscape and investigating intruder instances first hand and checking in on young Mr. Grey as he reports in. Don’t review the code, Julia, live it.”
Julia nodded as the door to the executive offices opened again. Joseph stood and nodded to Amanda, who smiled back. With that, he passed through the door closing it behind him.
Amanda turned her smile on Julia. “So.”
“Time we get to it.”
Amanda nodded and Julia rolled her eyes, settling them on the Dream Walker body of David Grey. Texas seemed ever so far away.
Chapter Eight
Somewhere deep within the Citadel Crystalline, I watch the meditating monk hover in the lotus position below the central crystal sphere, doing his thing, contemplating reality.
“Well? How do we do this? Do I choose my name? It’s Greywaters. I want to be a human fighter, what classes are available? Do I design my character first?”
You may choose from three defaults.
Three avatars manifest from the darkness ahead of me. One is an ideal, muscular version of me with my current hair and the option to change length, style and color, the same for a taller, super heroic or perhaps demigod body type, and an elongated, no less fit but trim fashion model body, complete with pouty lips. I think immediately of Jonesy. “No.”
I select the super heroic form, which adds a foot to my actual five-foot-ten, and select a Romanesque close-cut trim to my dirty gold hair. I select my natural, yet rare topaz-colored eyes, and browse through various beard and mustache styles. I settle on a goatee for a few moments before deciding on the clean cut, no facial hair, just some sideburns ending an inch below my ears.
Looking down, my body is tanned, naked with my naughty bits showing, and nails visible on my hands and toes. I select the final body type and after a brief flash, I’m dressed in simple leather and cloth clothing in brown and cream hues, with colors likely being a premium option to purchase in shops around Haven and the Realms. Not something I’m likely to bother with as I level up and wear the armor and outfits of my class. Speaking of which, nothing else has popped up, and the voice is silent.
Do you wish to continue?
Typical, ask and I receive. The volume of that damn voice could be lower.
“Yes, I…” The hall vanishes in a flash of light that fades to reveal the mammoth marble, silver, gold, and crystalline structures of Haven below the ever-cobalt blue sky.
“The hell?”
The Haven, not even my armory, the inventory it serves as. Each player is designated an armory to store their inventory as it grows over the course of playing the game. Instead, the monk, or game AI, spat me out with all the decorum of a troll.
Concentrating, as Jonesy explained during my first log in, my character stats fill my vision.
Character
Name: Greywaters.
Species: Human.
Level: 1
Class: None.
Subclass: Novi.
Affinity: None.
HP: 10/10
MP: 10/10
Attributes
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 20
Movement/Speed: 2
Combat Rate: 0.66
Constitution/Endurance: 10
Physical Defense (PD): 2
Energy Defense (ED): 2
Body: 10
Stun: 20
Recovery: 4
Intelligence: 10
Mental strength: 10
Senses: ?
Presence/Charisma: 10
Abilities/Skills
None.
Weapons
None.
Basic stats, even I know that. How unassuming does Miss Beechum and the Conglomerate want me to be as their undercover brother? I decide to head to the Grand Gate and explore one of the Realms before said beautiful Beechum sends someone to meet and brief me.
A deep voice sounds behind me. “Where you goin’ Greywaters?”
I turn to see my imp standing behind me, among the crowds of PCs and NPCs.
“You’re my imp?”
“What gave me away? Name’s Ex, your guide in the realms of the Lenscape.”
The one foot tall imp stands with his hands clasped behind his back, a chibi-sized warrior with fierce red hair and beard, striped with white, decked out in a dark hooded jacket with red trim, crafted from a dragon’s skin, complete with bloody copper wings and iridescent scales folded over his shoulders. Beneath that he wears a smart vest of lightning-like circuits that play upon it. Similar circuitry encircles the cuffs of the jacket, while a jeweled monocle matches his large belt buckle.
“What’s with the orange gloves?”
His face scrunches up with annoyance. “What’s wrong with orange gloves?”
It seems like a stupid question after he threw it back at me.
“My friends Lisa and Jonesy mentioned imps, and I’ve read up on the game. You’re here to train me, right? Why haven’t I got a class?”
He smiles. “Class is in session, lad.”
I don’t find that funny in the least, and my face telegraphs it.
“The Realms are a dangerous place, lad, first you must earn a class. Know thyself.”
“You’re like my sensei?”
“Each player has their own imp only they can see and hear.” He points at his ear.
“So we all look like we’re crazy people, talking to ourselves?”
“Only you can see me, Greywaters, but everyone here knows that and there’s good reason. It’s a matter of security. After all, once you’ve trained and left the Wilds, we imps only interact with you out in the Realms when we can help you. Think on it, lad. Would you want your competitors knowing what only I can tell you, or would you mind if they listened in?”
That made a hell of a lot of sense.
“Let’s go, laddie, your time’s wasting.”
“Uh, I’m meant to meet with you about the Conglomerate?”
“Time enough to talk after we orient you to the Lenscape.”
For a few moments I considered my game-cover might include my imp as my contact, but as I followed him out toward the edges of Haven, to the jungles of the Wilds, it was clear Julia intended someone else to meet with me. What was taking them so long? Why didn’t they greet me right out of the Citadel?
I check my notifications, finding the usual game offers and first time spam. A few random users said hello, and one from Jonesy offering to meet at a tavern on the edge of Haven.
“Uh, imp, before we do that, I’ve got a friend to meet up with.”
“It’s your time, slim. And be callin’ me Ex, see?”
“Right, sorry…Ex.” Bit of attitude for an NPC. I hoped he wasn’t going to be one of those types, the sort that, although scripted and an AI, nonetheless have that asshole vibe.
***
At the edge of the colossal structures of Haven, we enter into a simpler urban area constructed by traders and shopkeepers, away from the armories, temples, council, and guild halls. Following a cobblestone street, among NPCs and players, Ex and I reach the tavern indicated on my UI map by Jonesy. Timber and large stones make up most of the building’s outer structure, with small, curtained windows, giving some sense of the crowd within.
Entering through a thick, metal clasped door, the sights, sounds, scents, and tastes of revelry assault us.
Thick, roughhewn tree trunks support the upper floor and the candle-chandeliers attached to them. The walls are d
ecorated with mounted animal heads, hides and small animals, most of the Ice Age variety, and enormous. It’s clear the owner is an avid hunter and the smells coming from the kitchen indicate the animals don’t go to waste. Woolly mammoth on the menu?
The tavern is packed. Both NPCs and players fill the variety of long and smaller round tables. The corner tables and booths are occupied by people playing games, telling jokes, and making deals. As I push up between the stools at the bar, nobody seems to mind more company, and no one notices Ex. The imp makes his way to the bartender and before I can wonder whether only myself and those who dispatch libations can see him, Ex turns and waves me over with a wink.
I wasn’t here to drink, and wondered if the game provided all the pleasures of drinking, with none of the hangover. For that matter, if the game is set during the Ice Age, it parallels another interest of mine—lost civilizations. More evidence comes to light each year of a civilization lost during the Ice Age twelve thousand years ago. The megalithic architecture of Haven went a long way toward that theme.
“You gonna stand there gawking or ask for your friend?”
Glancing at Ex, I wave to the bartender. “I’m looking for Jonesy, uh, for Shadow Fox?”
Charm vs bartender: Fail.
(CHA)
His eyebrow raised, the bartender grunts. “Follow the ladies.”
Ex laughs. “Man after mine own heart.”
Ugh.
True enough, we find Jonesy sat in a corner table with a long but thin window looking out over the high cliffs onto the jungles of the Wilds. Two women sit with him, one on each side, with more bringing drinks and salted meats. He’s only just remorted and logged in—where did he gain enough gold pieces to afford this?
“You’ve finally done it, Davy. You’ve entered the Lenscape. How’s it feel?”
I roll my eyes. “Just got here and found out we gotta grind before we get a class.”
He winks at the ladies who return lewd smiles. “We can grind a while before you begin training.”
