Dissonance

by K. T. Hanna

  She hesitated, unsure how exactly to describe it, how to explain it so he’d understand. “No. I feel the wound. I feel the gaping wound in my chest, like the wind is whistling through it, like it’s just being formed. As if it’s happening over and over again. Sometimes it’s not there, but most of the time it’s like a recurring experience. While I don’t relive the actual death, I experience the initial cause of it. I don’t think I’m supposed to.”

  “No.” Telvar shook his head, his gaze growing distant as he delved into whatever terminal access he was using. “No, that’s definitely not supposed to happen. You also weren’t supposed to enter the space you did when you died. We had trouble ejecting you out of it.”

  They were both silent for a few moments, and Murmur suddenly felt very weary, her eyelids drooping. She needed to log out; she needed actual sleep, not a coma. She needed to be able to return to her body, to be herself.

  “But it means if you can die in-game, there has to be a way to send you back to yourself properly.” He looked up, focusing on her again. “But with those side effects, I wouldn’t think it advisable to be reckless.”

  “You don’t say.” She shuddered as the aching wound in her chest reactivated. Closing her eyes briefly, she shook her head and took a deep breath, reaching through to the earth to calm the sudden shaking she felt deep in her core. That’s right. Hybrid upgrades. Damn it. “Yeah, I don’t exactly want to relive pain like this for more than one death.”

  Telvar nodded, his attention split again. She waited, rubbing her arms to ward off a sudden chill. She watched as his expressions flickered slightly, differing a couple of times, leaning toward human expression.

  He looked up to see her focused on him and smiled tightly. “There’s a few things I will check on to see if I can figure out why you’re experiencing what you are. I’m hoping to find some answers, but I’m not promising anything.”

  He sounded cheerful enough, but Murmur knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. Something he was worried about. Tendrils of sensation wrapped themselves around her mind, through her thoughts, whispering fleeting words to her. Some of them belonged to Telvar, and she knew his shielding was tight, so just what was it that had leant her this extra power.

  She sighed and nodded. “I have to get going.”

  He smiled at her, this time a little more relaxed in the expression. “Take care, and don’t let Belius get one over on you.”

  She walked out of the kitchen before she could second-guess herself and took Tiachi gently in her hands. Snowy pushed against her leg, and Murmur couldn’t help but wonder to what extent the game was entering her mind.

  Storm Entertainment

  Somnia Online Division

  Game Development Offices

  Early hours day Eighteen

  Shayla pushed her way into the offices, doing up her belt as she went. The alert she’d received from Laria allowed her to, albeit sleepily, witness James effectively breaking into Laria’s office. The video itself was damning and perfectly legitimate.

  Davenport was going to have so many damned questions, but luckily for once, it seemed the heat might be off them and moved onto James. While Shayla had wanted proof, she didn’t want Laria hurt. As soon as she realized what was happening, she’d jumped out of bed, kissed her husband on the cheek and dragged her clothes on.

  The benefit of living so close to work was the same as the detriment. It was close, and she could be there in under ten minutes. It meant her days off or nights off, especially while in development or newly launched anything, weren’t actually days off. They were, “oh, Shayla lives close, just call her in” days.

  But this time, right now, she was grateful for that proximity. She’d already flagged security to go up to Laria’s office on her way over. They should be there already.

  Just as she thought, when she walked in, Laria stood about as calmly as she’d expected behind her desk, putting it between herself and the intruder. She stood with her shoulders squared toward him, and her arms crossed. Somewhat defensive, but overall pretty good. Except Shayla could see the flicker beneath her friend’s eyes, the shadow of fear that comes with being cornered in a room with no second exit and someone you’re pretty sure has less than honest intentions.

  The security men stood flanking James, who, for once, seemed decidedly uncomfortable. His eyes darted around the office and he chewed at his lip. She could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he contemplated an out.

  “James? I don’t recall authorizing overtime for administrative positions. Unless you’re happier coding and seeking to go back to your old job. I can always hire an assistant who’s more dedicated to what I need from them.” Shayla walked in smoothly, resisting the urge to straighten her skirt. Throwing her clothes on had been the only option and the skirt was the first thing that came to hand.

  “I...” he paused, trying to figure out a way to word his presence. His frustration was almost palpable.

  “He still hasn’t told me why he picked the lock to my door, which he can’t deny because I have the footage.” Laria’s tone wasn’t even smug. She held his gaze until he looked away. “Tell us, James, before I have security call the police, why you were trying to break into my office. I mean, I know I didn’t have lights on. I was buried in work.”

  It was like a switch flicked inside him. “I thought you’d fallen asleep and came to check on you.”

  Laria actually barked a laugh, and Shayla was highly impressed by the lack of hysteria in it. “Nice try. You didn’t knock to check, and you literally picked my lock, after which, you closed it behind you. What were you after? Corporate espionage is so 1985.”

  He hesitated, glancing between Laria and Shayla. “Fine. I was checking up on your work. We have a deadline tomorrow and we can’t afford to miss it. Those reports are vital to the continuance of the Somnia Headset project—we need the computations, all of the variables, because the in-game testing isn’t correlating to the real-world applications of the headgear.”

  “I knew it.” Laria nodded, a marginally vindictive smile spreading across her face. “I knew you were snooping around.”

  Shayla would have laughed if her stomach hadn’t developed a cold pit that was clawing at her insides. He had been snooping around, but definitely not for Davenport. James’s expression was no longer meek. He was no longer subservient, but stood confident and demanding.

  “I wouldn’t call it snooping, I’d call it doing my job and looking out for the state’s investments. This game wouldn’t even be a blip on the radar without the contributions made by my employer.” Now his words were spoken with a sneer of superiority, as if he knew they were hiding something and had the clout to be arrogant. He’d chosen to go with his rank with whomever he worked for.

  Shayla had a sneaking suspicion it was the military contractor through the state’s governing bodies. While it had never been specifically defined, she was certain it had to be one of the arms.

  “That headgear wouldn’t have even a fraction of the data the game provides for its development, so stop trying to make it sound like you’re owed this creep factor you decided to go with.” Laria snapped the words out, alarming Shayla slightly. Before she could stop her, the developer continued.

  “Somnia is a success because of us. You have the information you need because of us. The least you could have done was come to us and cooperated instead of trying to catch us out in this game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing. Trying to overhear us, trying to get the drop on us. I don’t know your employer, I thought it was Storm. Given that it’s not, by your own admission, Will is going to call the cops and we’ll all wait here until they pick you up.” Laria didn’t sound petty or angry, but reasonable if slightly irritated. She’d managed to keep her cool, and Shayla was grateful for it. She didn’t think she’d have done the same.

  James frowned. “Don’t you understan
d? I’m employed by your bosses’ boss.”

  Laria actually laughed, but it was an impatient sound that disregarded anything he said. “I don’t care. Right now, you work for us. The only bosses I have are Shayla and Edward Davenport, and I don’t want to see your face around my offices again. The police will be here shortly. Take him down, Will.”

  Will nodded, and James turned to glare at the security guard, but it didn’t have an effect. The man had three daughters. There was no way for James to intimidate him.

  When the door closed behind them, Laria collapsed into her seat, her face suddenly pale.

  “You okay?” Shayla stepped close, uncertain how to offer her some level of comfort.

  “Yeah. He just—I’m glad you sic’d security on him. He wasn’t as reticent when I first stood up and confronted him. He was cocky and that grin was just this side of scary.” Laria stroked the edge of her desk thoughtfully, but the other hand gripped the side so tightly her knuckles were white. “I really like how solid this desk is.”

  Her mind was obviously shooting out coping mechanisms, and Shayla couldn’t blame her. About to speak, she stopped when Laria continued.

  “I wasn’t expecting the complete one-eighty, the utter disregard for the fact that he’d been caught doing something wrong. There was no regret, or even remorse, which was probably more frightening because of it. Apart from his initial shock at my being here, I’m just glad Will and Josh arrived when they did. Thanks.” She didn’t voice that she’d been scared of what would happen if they hadn’t turned up, and she didn’t voice the relief that she hadn’t had to use any of her self-defense training. She didn’t need to, because Shayla understood.

  Shayla nodded, giving her a quick squeeze of the shoulders, unsure of how else to react. All she knew was she no longer felt safe here at work, here where it had been her second home. If they were sending people like James to keep an eye on them, then they couldn’t risk trusting anyone but each other.

  Murmur stood in front of the gates to Stellaein, having asked Tiachi to put away her hover-disc. The tiny alien swung on one of her strands of hair, chittering fiercely, lending a nice tone to the background of the bustle around her home city.

  What once had been quiet and serene was now inundated with players. They bustled here and there, some in full groups, others in sets of twos and threes. Their chattering voices echoed off the smooth rock walls, lending a lively atmosphere to what had once seemed so austere.

  She decided she liked it. The rest at home had allowed her to feel secure within herself again. More focused on what she needed to take care of in Somnia. And first things first. With forty just around the corner, she had to go and visit Belius.

  As she made her way through the city, agilely dodging kids along the way who threatened to trip her up at every step, she noticed the buildings were festive with flags hanging from windows, and more flowers. Everything was so much livelier than it had been at the beginning. Almost three weeks ago. Oh, how time flew. Sort of.

  Snowy bumped his head against her thigh as if asking her if she was just going to stand in the center of town and stare at everything, or if she was going to move. She chuckled and reached down somewhat absent-mindedly to scratch him.

  “Nice wolf you’ve got there.”

  Murmur spun around to see a locus she vaguely remembered. Searching her memory for his name, she inclined her head. “Hi, Talir. You’re all grown up.”

  Talir chuckled. “Not as grown up as you. How do you get so many levels so often?” He seemed a little more intense than he had when she first met him, but if she recalled correctly, he’d been level three back then. Almost thirty levels ago for him.

  She checked her HUD and noticed he didn’t have a guild tag, and resisted the urge to frown. People who, at this stage of the game and at his stage of levels, didn’t have a guild were often alone for a couple of reasons. They were either really damned picky, or else they were guildhoppers, or loners.

  “You never speak in enchanter chat,” Talir observed quietly.

  She blinked. “Damn it. I keep forgetting it’s there. Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. Everyone forgets. I had just hoped it would be beneficial for us all. Enchanter isn’t quite what I thought it would be.”

  She watched him. His white eyes barely reflected any stars. They were a little unsettling because they seemed to look right through her.

  “I don’t think enchanter was what anyone expected to play.” She chuckled, remembering back to her disappointment at being allocated the class she’d come to love. While she still missed healing a bit, she’d really come to love the intricacies involved with her class.

  “Precisely. I wonder what they thought they’d gain.” He muttered the words more to himself than to her, so she waited for him to continue. “Anyway. I am glad to catch up with you. I’d like to ask if you have room for other enchanters in your guild?”

  Talir’s tone was hesitant, like he’d spent a while trying to build up the courage to ask that question.

  Murmur eyed him, and inspected what she could about him. Level thirty-one met their level recruitment requirements, and she didn’t recognize his hidden specialties, but that just meant they’d be varied and they could speak about that later. She paused, tilting her head to one side.

  “Okay. Talk to Beastial. We could definitely use other enchanters once we hit endgame, and you meet our minimum level for recruitment.”

  Talir smiled, the relief coming off him in waves. It made her wonder if he had the same intricacies in his skills like thought projection and sensing. And shielding. She couldn’t imagine having been the only person to pick up on that from Belius’s lectures.

  “Thank you. I’ve been holding out until I felt confident and strong enough to try and join your guild.” His smile was somewhat shy, if a locus could be like that, and his shorter hair bristled with bright green ends.

  “He isn’t online yet,” she forewarned the enchanter, and then frowned, because she was pretty sure they wouldn’t be on for another few hours yet. “Actually, you know what?”

  She activated her guild interface in the HUD and invited Talir.

  “There. Welcome to the guild.” She set him to trial initiate and gave him a five-day real-world setting. Beast could change it if she’d done it wrong.

  Talir’s eyes opened wide and his joy was contagious. “That’s...thank you so much!”

  She grinned in response to his excitement. Her brief memory of him came back to her clearly, when he’d been standing and waiting in line to see a trainer back when he was tiny. “You’ll have a secondary skill now that should allow you to get to our base. Be sure to check in with Neva in the crafting hall, but be aware that trial members have limits on what they can withdraw and receive until they become full members.”

  “Of course!” His eyes gleamed brighter than they had before.

  “You’re the only other enchanter apart from myself.” Which seemed sort of odd to her, now that she thought about it. They had multiples of other classes.

  He nodded. “Yeah, the play-through rate of enchanters hasn’t been the best. It’s probably the one class they’re not succeeding with the allocations of.”

  She raised an eyebrow, mulling over the oddities in her head. Maybe she wasn’t the only one hearing voices, although maybe the problem was more that people expected that they’d be able to read thoughts without having to put in effort. Yet another notch to consider later.

  “We have a dedicated crafting crew, so there’s no real need for you to craft on your own, but you’re welcome to. I need to get to my trainer to stock up on my next level of spells.” She smiled so as not to sound dismissive.

  “Sorry to interrupt! Thank you for taking the time to invite me. I can’t believe it was that easy.” He seemed genuinely excited and flattered.

  She shook her head. “
It’s not that easy. It’s just a trial. We need to know you can play your class, and that you’re willing to learn how to be the best you can. We don’t kick people because they can’t play—we will kick people who won’t try to improve.”

  He nodded fervently. “Thank you again.”

  Murmur smiled and turned to head toward the enchanter guild. She had stuff to do before the others woke up.

  Belius sat at his desk, quill poised over the parchment in front of him as he raised an eyebrow when Murmur entered his room unceremoniously.

  “To what do I owe this fantastic visit?” he asked as if he didn’t already know. His eyes were friendly, interest piqued, and a sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth threatening to transform the otherwise happy expression.

  “You know I know. Don’t be coy.” She didn’t have the energy. At least with Belius, she knew being blunt wouldn’t lose her a friend. Murmur was worn out, tired, and just wanting to go back to being a perfectly normal player.

  “I take it you want your level forty spells?” He asked the question quietly, his voice leaking through to her subconscious. She glanced up at him, her vision swimming for a moment, swirling darkness over his pale silverness, even as the pain coiled through her chest again.

  “Murmur?” Belius was on his feet, real concern reflecting in his voice. It made her shudder, mild convulsions running down though her body, right to her fingertips. Her breath tried to stick in her throat staying there and blocking most of the airway. Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to cough but nothing came out.

  And just as suddenly as it onset, it was gone.

  She sat up straight to see Belius hovering over her, his usually fathomless eyes reflecting a hint of panic. “I’m okay.”

  His frown told her he didn’t believe a word she said but wasn’t about to argue with her. “Level forty spells it is, then. What else can I help you with?”

  He sounded extra careful, extra caring. Like he wasn’t the one who’d given Jirald a quest that had him hell bent on killing her to obtain the getashi. Maybe her being able to die was a good thing for him. Maybe it alleviated his guilt. The side effects were definitely not her cup of tea.