Fantalia Online

by Jason Krew

  'Diet coke please.'

  'No worries, anything else?' His mother turned to Roger.

  'I take it you want the nugget meal. It was always your favorite.' Roger opened his mouth to disagree, to say it hadn't been his favorite in some time and that if she paid attention to who he was now and not how she remembered him as a kid they'd both be a lot better off, but looking at her earnest face stopped him dead in his tracks.

  'Yes,' he said. 'Please.'

  He ate his meal on the way home, ravenous as he was. His mother bought him the 20 piece. He was a growing boy after all, she assured him, and he was stuffed by the time they pulled into the driveway.

  His mother would make herself something with the leftovers, as she always did. It's how she stayed in such good shape while his dad just got rounder and rounder.

  His dad did manage to thank her for the meal, which he ate in his study in front of the computer. Roger could hear politicans speaking nonsense through the computer speakers.

  He got to his room, and all the sleepiness he'd accrued after closing the store had evaporated. He took a good look at what had been left undone from the night before. He slipped from the room and thirty seconds later was back with a box of sprays and a microfiber cloth.

  'Time to clean those windows.'

  Chapter VI - Part 1

  Another long day of school, another History period spent in the bathroom. He scrolled through the Fantalia Online board absent mindedly. People had stopped posting their experiences, and the general conversation had returned once more to mindless speculation. But something was off.

  The posts from yesterday. They were gone. Deleted. Had the FO executives flexed their muscles and taken them down? It was a mystery, and more than a few threads on the subject had popped up, many with hundreds of thousands of views.

  Roger had to admit that if you were a player in FO, you were pretty much a celebrity at the moment. Judging by the posts flooding in across the boards, the hype had reached another layer of intensity after the first wave of user experiences appeared. Even the doubters and the skeptics seemed to be silent now, though there were always one or two dissenting voices in every conversation.

  His vim and gusto for study escaped him today, like the air let out of a balloon. He would be to logging in tonight. That's what mattered. What he had to do now was survive. Sooner or later either Ms. Xin or his classmates were going to figure out that he was skipping History despite being at school. The thought gave him a stomach ache, but it was something he had to ignore. He would deal with it when the time came.

  The days were getting hotter and hotter, and the muggy heat sunk into Roger's clothes. His butt felt itchy on the old wooden stools in the science department, and he couldn't have concentrated on the class even if he tried.

  He hid himself away at recess, in a little alcove near the canteen where a group of seventh graders played their handheld consoles. The tinny of the 64 bit music made him smile, and he remembered a time when he played with his own friends behind the de-mountable classrooms in primary school. He could hear the music from Battle Network 15 in his one free ear. The latest Dir En Grey album thundered in the other.

  He spotted Donald on the way to Geo, but it was easy to act like he couldn't see him in the throng of students. He wasn't even exactly sure why he was hiding. It's not like he was cool enough for people to care who he hung out with. Donald was irritating, but then again he had proven himself trustworthy, in that he hadn't ratted him out to everyone about Fantalia Online.

  By fourth period he had decided he would return to the library at lunch. Sure enough Donald was there, and with an excited smile wobbled his way over to Roger's table. One of his buttons was broken, and pale pink skin could be seen underneath. He took a quick look to his left and right, and then leaned over the table.

  'Did you get to play last night?' he said.

  'No. Bonfire night.'

  'Ah, did you go out with friends?'

  Roger scratched at the back of his head. 'Yeah, kinda.'

  Donald nodded. 'I understand. It's healthy for a gamer to maintain a social life. Very good.'

  Weirdo.

  'Do you have a girlfriend?' said Donald. Roger didn't like the smile he was projecting towards him. He averted his gaze.

  'No.'

  'Oh, good.' Donald sounded pleased. 'You should totally date my cousin.'

  Roger's face was in flames.

  'Why would I?' he said.

  'Why not?' Donald was leaning over the table again, the edge pushing into his stomach. 'She's cute isn't she?'

  'Dude, what the hell.' Roger's brow furrowed as he sent the boy a quizzical look. 'It's totally strange to call your own cousin cute.' He realized his voice had risen an octave.

  Donald looked offended. 'I don't mean it like that. Jeez. I could never like her, not since we were five when she...' he cut himself off. 'No, I shouldn't tell you that otherwise you won't want to date her either.'

  Roger folded his arms. 'Anyway, I'm not here about all that. I came to study.'

  'Ah, yes.' Donald placed his palms on the desk and sat back in his seat, looking as though he had suddenly become aware of himself. 'True, true.'

  Truth was, Roger didn't much feel like studying. He caught himself thinking about Katelyn, though her face was quickly becoming a blur to him. He often had trouble remembering things in detail. They came to him more as a fuzzy feeling than a concrete vision. Katelyn was a pleasant feeling, although he knew he'd screwed that up. And he was still upset that she hadn't even waited a day to tell her cousin all about him.

  The bell rang and he'd barely made a dent in his exercise book. He had tried to write a paragraph on the text they had been studying in English, but he couldn't remember any of the story elements.

  Maths was a pleasant surprise for him. When Mr. Clayton came around to check the homework, Roger expected the same subtle cluck of the teeth as he realized Roger had done nothing, followed by the gentle remonstration that he was a smart boy and should use the gifts he'd been given.

  Instead, for the first time Mr. Clayton beamed at him fully, and gave him a clap on the shoulder to go with it. Roger didn't know how to take that, and he stared down at his own handiwork with a degree of embarrassment and maybe even something that could be called pride.

  Mr. Clayton marked the answers with his fine red parker pen, ah'ing with delight as each question turned up correct, working provided and all.

  'Well done, Roger. Hopefully we see a lot more of this moving forward.'

  Roger heard a few murmurs, and a few of the good kids shoot him sour looks. 'Why should you be praised for doing what you're supposed to?' those looks told him.

  The rest of the lesson was a progression on what they'd already done, and Roger found himself able to follow the large majority of it. Mr. Clayton gave him another 'keep it up' as he made his way past, and Roger continued working all the way through to the bell. He started when the bell rang, in fact, so caught up was he in working out the cosine of the hypotenuse.

  They finished with English, and it was back to the de facto looks of disappointment as he turned in three words worth of homework. Mrs Teegan was a stern looking woman, with rectangle glasses that made her eyes look too big, and she called each student up to the desk individually as they worked through Shakespeare.

  'Why do you give me this, Roger?' Her tone was official and business-like, and it never failed to make Roger feel like some kind of ape.

  'I dunno,' he said. 'I tried to do it but Shakespeare is really diff-'

  'I know,' she said. 'Which is why I asked the class yesterday that if anyone needs help they should ask me before they go.'

  Roger shrugged. 'I didn't hear you.'

  'Of course not.' She had finished writing her comments in a small, printed script that was the literal transmission of her personality to text. 'I want this homework completed by Monday next week. Thank you.'

  She called out the next student and Roger lumbered back to his
desk. He tried to read the comments she had left but his will was gone, and he spent the next half hour drawing elliptical patterns in the back of his book. The drawings became more messy and frantic until finally the final buzzer tolled and Roger fled the room like there was a bomb in there.

  He was a hundred yards from the platform when the 3:03 pulled into the station. He pelted across the asphalt and up and down the stairs, leaping through the closing doors like the hero of an adventure movie, eliciting stares from the other passengers. He blew his sweaty fringe out of his face, and the cool air tingled on his forehead.

  The stations passed one by one, and the clouds grew ever more menacing until there was a smattering of rain on the windows. Roger hadn't brought an umbrella, of course. When the doors opened up at Central Park the rain was crashing down. He held his blazer over his head as a shield, and had to slip and weave as folk hurried onto the train, under shelter and out of the downpour.

  He arrived at the FO headquarters, soaking and disheveled. One of the players was leaving, looking like they had been playing the game for a week straight. Their eyes were sunken into dark rings, and a whiff of body odor struck Roger as he passed.

  He signed in, still a little unnerved by the complete lack of staff. It was good to be back, though. The place was pristine, and he passed through the dimly lit hallway and finally into the main room. The A/C made him shiver now. As he walked past the pods he could see that at least half of them were occupied. A couple of people were lounging in the central cafe, one of them sipping a coffee.

  It was like a little sanctuary away from the world, and Roger felt a large degree of peace here, despite the nerves budding inside at the prospect of reintegration. He reached his own console in the far corner, and ran a hand down the side.

  'Welcome back, brave adventurer. Will you be returning to the world of Fantalia today?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then please, strap in and get comfortable.'

  He hoped being wet wouldn't mess with the machinery. He settled in, placing the earphones over his head. They seemed to fit even better than yesterday, which he thought odd. In fact the whole pod was a little more comfortable than before.

  'If you haven't noticed, your VRIU has been altered to enhance and personalize your experience.' Roger shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the wet. It was like the damn pod had read his mind. 'Please, remember that you are in control. When you are ready, we'll begin integration.'

  'Ready,' he said.

  The doors began to close.

  Chapter VI - Part 2

  When he 'came to', he was back in Heathcliff. Right where he had started. He looked around, left, right, and then something green flitted across his vision and he felt a sensation on his shoulder.

  'Welcome back,' said Sopherus.

  'Oh. You.'

  Welp, he really was here again.

  'Why am I back in Heathcliff?'

  'Sorry for the inconvenience,' said Sopherus, sounding more like a company employee than a half foot pikshene. 'Everyone was reset to their original location after the server shutdown. Guess it took more than we thought to handle the influx of players.'

  'I see.' Well, there was one thing he was going to do right this time. His eyes caught sight of a pair of crossed swords. The blacksmith. He wandered over with a gleam in his eye, and did not return for several minutes. He left the building with a satisfied smile, and a pair of heavy, spiked gauntlets. Fist was it? So be it.

  'You spent all your money on those?' said Sopherus. He looked Roger up and down, from his old boots to his rough spun clothes.

  'What's with you?' said Roger with a scowl. 'You're supposed to support me.'

  'Well I'm just being honest.' Sopherus looked a little bit guilty. 'You're rather impulsive.'

  Roger shrugged. 'I just do what feels right.' He swept his vision around the courtyard, really taking in the village properly for the first time. It had everything you needed to start your adventure. The signs on all the shops were self evident, wooden boards with various pictures painted on them. His eyes caught one, a bag of gold with coins spilling out of it. Looked like a pawn shop to Roger.

  'What you got for me?' asked the dusty old merchant as Roger passed through the swinging doors.

  'A whole bunch of junk,' he replied. 'Soph?' He watched as Sopherus burped out a pile of tusks, melted candles, pick axes and an assortment of copper ore fragments onto the desk. It spilled everywhere, but the merchant simply watched like this happened all the time.

  'Eighty ruperen,' said the man, and Roger nodded.

  'You're not even gonna bargain?' Soph looked indignant as he stood amidst the little mound of barely valuable treasures.

  Roger shook his head. 'I dunno what anything's worth.'

  The merchant waited patiently, and Roger held out his hand, but it was Sopherus who the merchant handed the coins to, tipping his cupped hand directly into the creatures mouth.

  Eighty ruperen wasn't a lot. Roger's gloves had cost him four hundred, which was all the coin he'd accrued from looting the kobold's cave.

  The head, he suddenly remembered. That would be worth a penny, surely?

  'Hey, Soph, where do I turn in my quests?'

  'To the place you got them, silly!'

  Roger raised his eyebrows.

  Was he always this rude?

  'I never picked this quest up,' he said. 'Guess I'll try the inn.'

  'Good idea.'

  Roger returned to the inn, and the turbaned innkeeper with the smug smile. Sure would be nice to test my new gauntlets on this guy, he thought.

  'I have the kobold chieftain's head,' he said. The innkeeper barely moved a muscle, running a rag around and around a pristine shot glass. A pair of customers from the corner - the same as last time - started to chuckle. One threw up his hands.

  'Well, if that isn't the thirtieth time we've heard that today.'

  'Yeah,' said his friend, snickering into his mug. 'Heroes everywhere.'

  Roger wasn't going to take it lying down this time. He scowled, and threw them the middle finger.

  'What a heroic gesture,' said the first, prompting another round of mirth.

  'Whatever.' The people in this world were really starting to get on his nerves. The NPC's. The AI. Whoever created them must be a real jerk. The innkeeper dropped more coins into Sopherus's maw.

  'Two hundred ruperen,' he said.

  Not bad. It finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

  'Take another look at the job board before you go,' said the innkeeper.

  'Yeah, yeah,' said Roger. He heard the merrymakers murmuring to each other. He tried his best to ignore it and zone in on the board. A bunch of low level quests. Kill this many creatures. Collect this many herbs. No. Boring.

  They had said this game was a revolution. The most advanced and immersive MMORPG to date. Not a carbon copy of every RPG formula just with better tech. He felt disappointment seeping into his gut. No. There was more to it. He had already experienced the possibilities that first night with Greg. Graham? Gray. It didn't have to be so generic and boring. He had made up his mind, and he stalked from the inn without looking back.

  Sopherus followed. 'You're not going to grab any quests?'

  'No,' said Roger. 'I'm going to make my own.' The trees were waving. The breeze. He could feel it. A toned down version of the real thing, but it was there. This was what it was about. A new world. A home away from home. An adventure, away from the drudgery of reality, the idiots, the burden of parents, school, public transport.

  He set off down the road, reinvigorated. He retraced his steps into the woods, yearning for the boars to test him. One did, thrashing through the brush with characteristic savagery. Roger's gauntlets landed heavy, making short work of the beast. He continued down the trail in this manner, punching anything to cross his path, which happened to be only boars for the time being.

  It was about midday here by his estimate, though it would be getting dark in the real world. He wondered
if this place was big enough to have time zones. If the developers had even thought that far. Surely they had?

  Another boar attacked, and Roger put an end to his philosophizing to strike it between the eyes. As it faded to nothing and Sopherus sucked up the loot, he noticed a parting between the trees up ahead. He raced towards it, and the woods opened up to reveal a magnificent view beyond.

  Royal blue fields rolled away as far as the eye could see. A long, winding river opened up onto a wide lake, where giant, long-necked creatures resembling furred dinosaurs grazed. He stood for a moment, just watching them. Every footstep created little shimmers of sound, akin to falling timber.