by Deck Davis
It hadn’t always been that way. Up until he was twelve, their family was a happy four-piece. Him, Mom, Rory, and Dad. One night, his parents went to a party. Dad was supposed to stay sober to drive them home, but it wasn't that simple. While Mom was always lively and lived to socialize, parties bored the hell out of Dad. So, he had a whiskey sour. Then another. Then a third couldn’t hurt, could it?
Tripp had seen a photograph of their smashed car in a newspaper. Uncle James and Aunt Bianca took him in when Dad was in prison for causing death by dangerous driving. They tried to protect Tripp from it all. They answered all his questions honestly enough, but they didn’t encourage him to ask them. Aunt Bianca had passed away now, but Tripp always thought about her. She was his mom’s sister, and she and Uncle James had gone way beyond what anyone would expect of them.
His dad got out of prison five years ago, and he’d reached out to Tripp, but he wanted nothing to do with him. He felt sorry for him, in a way. Dad had lost his wife and sons because of a stupid, stupid decision. Even after everything he was still his dad, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to him.
Dad had remarried. His business had taken off like crazy, and he was always trying to give Tripp money. Tripp had refused every cent so far.
But what about now? Were his principles so important he’d refuse to let his dad pay for the procedure? Lose his sight out of stubbornness?
He might have principles, but he wasn’t an idiot. There was no question of whether he’d accept it. Even so, it felt lousy having to reach out for help.
“You shouldn’t have spoken to my dad. I understand why you did, but I put my brother as my next of kin.”
“It was he who suggested I speak to your father after I explained about the regrowth process. It’s simple, Tripp. Your father will pay for the regrowth and the aftercare. He will also buy you a long-stay Soulboxe Online pass so your mind isn’t idle during the months the process takes.”
“Months?”
“Modern technology isn’t a miracle. It’s a complicated process of trial, error, and rework. This will be successful, but it will take time.”
“And while that’s happening, I’ll be in Soulboxe.”
“Correct. It is a way of keeping a person’s mind active while they are in a coma, and it allows us to interact with them. They market these things as games, but the technology is an absolute marvel.”
So that was it. He was a rat in a maze, with only one way out of it; trusting in the regrowth process. Feeling cornered like that made tension knot in him.
The choice was simple. He either accepted what Benner had suggested and clung to the hope it might work, or he gave up. He accepted that his life as he’d known it was over, and that things would change irrevocably. He’d lost his career, his skills, everything.
The regrowth procedure was his only chance. Feeling a little buoyed by his decision, he felt a renewed energy wash through him.
He wasn’t going to wallow, he was going to do his damned best to stay positive.
“Okay, Doctor, let’s get down to specifics…”
They discussed how long he would spend in Soulboxe, and what would happen to his body while his mind was there. They talked about the medical procedure, operations, healing times, and the thing that worried Tripp most - his recovery chances.
His heart flinched whenever he thought about it, but at least he was being given an escape. Something to take his mind off everything while he waited for the medical team to do their job. He needed to trust their expertise and passion.
“Now,” said Dr Benner. “Let’s discuss particulars of the game. First up, when you enter Soulboxe your mind will take a while to adjust. You might not remember much at first, because being thrust into a new reality is jarring. Don’t worry, they’ll leave something that jogs your memory.”
“What do I do in Soulboxe?”
“You play it. What do they say in their advertisements? It’s a vacation from real life, yes? Only, a vacation filled with orcs and dragons. Have fun there. Let your mind take some R and R. Kill things!”
“I guess it’ll be better than how I expect comas to be. I thought they’d be nothing, a void.”
Benner squeezed his good arm. “That’s the spirit. You’ll be fine, you know. Whatever the outcome when you leave your pod, you’ll get through it, okay?”
It was the first consoling thing the doctor had said, and it hit Tripp in the gut. He nodded. “Thanks, doctor. For Tidus, for everything. I really appreciate it.”
He didn’t see much of the doctor after that. In fact, given his condition, he didn’t see much of anything. At least he still had his humor, though.
The next few days went by in a flash. They scanned his mind using scary-sounding equipment, gave him dozens of questionnaires, and took his measurements for his immersion pod.
Tripp prepared himself for his new reality with a gorge of research. He devoured forums, video streams, everything he could think of. Most internet sites had a text-to-voice option, and the nurses would read them to him when they didn’t.
One funny-as-hell nurse named Jenny narrated the video streams for him. Her narration came with descriptions, sound effects, and voices for the player characters. He could have been listening to a radio play. It helped him build up a mental picture of Soulboxe, as well as making him laugh.
Imagining everything was easier because Soulboxe was a fantasy game, and he had played dozens. By the end of the week, he could picture the world in his head, and he was aching to get started.
The more he researched, the more he felt nerves sparking in him. Good ones, though. He was ready for this, and he had an idea what he wanted to do. The choices were endless; spellsword, thief, cook, traveler, mage, murderer, farmer.
He was going to be a crafter. A crafter of something important, and he was going to try to be the best at it. After all, that’s all he’d ever wanted, right? That was why he’d been an apprentice carpenter, and why he’d opened his own business.
Only, he knew that in Soulboxe he wasn’t going to make antique wardrobes. No, he’d create something much better, much cooler…maybe much darker.
On the afternoon of the fourth day of his preparations, his hospital room door opened, and Tripp knew it was time.
It wasn’t Dr. Benner’s voice he heard, nor was it any of the nurses.
“Mr. Keaton?” a man said. “I’m a tech from Soulboxe Online. Your pod is ready. Looks like they made a new one for you. Are you ready to get hooked in?”
Trip nodded. “If I’m not ready now, I never will be.”
His body fizzed with excitement as they led him out of the ward and across the hospital, arriving at the regrowth pod wing.
The tech engineer hooked Tripp up to a pod, connecting him via a series of tubes and needles. Tripp only knew this because the tech narrated everything he was doing. By the end, Tripp felt like he was a human science experiment.
“We’re good to go,” said the tech. “The tubes are feeding a stabilizer to you, and the mind patch is working as we speak. It’s like anesthetic; it takes a while to kick in.”
“Thanks. The sooner I’m somewhere else rather than naked in a pod, the better.”
The tech laughed. “I get that a lot. This is the worst part, I promise. Remember that full-immersion players are always foggy when they get to Soulboxe. It won’t last forever. The worst that’ll happen in the meantime is that you die.”
“Comforting. From what I’ve heard, I’m expecting to die again and again. Especially since nobody knows where they’ll spawn when they play for the first time.”
The tech grinned. “Random newbie spawning. I saw a level one druid spawn at the top of the highest mountain of the game, with a clan of snow trolls blocking the path. We laughed our asses off watching him try and get down. Course, he got a fresh spawn eventually, once it had stopped being funny.”
“Reassuring to know you’re always on hand to help. Don’t worry, I know I’m going to have to die a few t
imes before I get used to it. I hope I don’t spawn somewhere crazy.”
He nodded. “I hear that. Here’s a tip for ya; in Soulboxe, folks are crazy about roleplaying. Nuts about it. Lots of the long termers, the legacy players they call ‘em, stay in character while they play. To them, it’s a real world with real history, and you better embrace that if you want to get the most out of it, okay? Immerse yourself in the world, in the lore, in the things you see. You’ll be glad you did.”
“Thanks. Anything else?”
“Between you and me, I heard a few of the office guys talking. You’re going into Soulboxe at a…how can I phrase it? Well, you’re playing the game at a weird time. Now, let’s get you in Soulboxe. I have another immersion in thirty minutes and it’s on the other side of the city.”
Before Tripp could even ask what he meant, his head started to feel light, and he felt like he was drifting into sleep.
CHAPTER 6
Tripp had felt himself yanked into a void, cold and empty and as lonely as a forgotten world, until a voice whispered into his ear, breaking the silence.
Entry is disorientating. Imagine a wolf taken from the forest, put into a darkened cage, and then hours later released into the streets of Manhattan.
Your brain will whirr. You’ll be dizzy.
Take deep breaths. Look around. Forget your old needs. We’ll keep you fed and hydrated and happy and healthy. The only limits now are the ones you set.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since the void and his first entry into this new world, but at least he remembered why he was here.
Something still bothered him. Why was he an orc? It wasn’t a race that Tripp could picture himself choosing. When he thought back to all the games he’d ever played, he’d never gone ahead as an orc. Why now?
Despite every memory that had come back, one was stuck like food hiding from dental floss. Maybe it would return in time, but the mystery nagged at him.
Not only that, though. If he was in Soulboxe, then where the hell was everyone else? Where were the other players, the towns, even the non-player game characters?
So far he’d only seen Jacobus. His corpse and items had disappeared, leaving Tripp alone and dreaming of the sword that Jacobus had wielded. The only reminder of him and his thorny death were the embers of bushes staining the plains.
All the research he had done was starting to come back. He remembered the things he’d read about Soulboxe and what you could do in it.
The badges that floated by Jacobus’s head - the hammer, the goggles, and the cauldron - were important, as was their appearance. They had been made of gold, and that told him two things.
The hammer was for crafting. Probably blacksmithing. The fact that the badge was gold meant that Jacobus had reached the very pinnacle of the crafting rank.
It also suggested that he’d made the sword. He’d created that awe-inspiring sword, as mesmerizing in its beauty as it was dangerous in its power. Jacobus had crafted it himself, and that was the thought that kept bouncing around Tripp‘s mind. Could he do that one day?
But he had to think of the here and now.
Eyeing the giant skull again, he wondered if that might have anything to do with the lack of other players.
Worried, Tripp put on the pieces of steel armor that he’d found in the inventory bag. The metal was cold against his skin.
There could have at least been underwear in the damn bag.
The armor so heavy that it was like walking with the gravity turned up, and he wasn’t going to be winning any races. Later, he'd have to decide whether to trash the armor in favor of something lighter, or keep it for its protection.
A problem for another day. No point weeding the garden when your house is on fire, as his Aunt Bianca used to say.
Besides, the armor was a good find, and the only thing missing from making it a full set was the right hand gauntlet. Now he was mostly clad in steel, but with his green hand sticking out.
Armor Set: Basic Steel
Pieces: 8/9
Complete the set of armor to gain special effects. Collect as many sets as you can – you never know what effects you’ll gain!
Just one piece away from completing the armor set, huh? He’d have to watch out for a gauntlet. Once he got to a town, it wouldn’t be difficult to find a steel gauntlet. Unless there was a sudden shortage, and he was going to have to travel to a distant mountain and battle a twenty-foot, fire-breathing troll to get one.
Don’t tempt fate, he told himself. After some of the stuff he’d seen online, he wouldn’t put it beyond the game’s AI to make a quest like that.
More was coming back to him now. The hours listening to game guides and players video-streaming their progress.
It felt good to know where he was and why he was here. He picked up the map. It wasn’t a map of the whole game world, which they said spanned as many miles as the continent of Europe. Instead, it was a map of an area called Godden’s Reach.
The map showed the anvil-shaped outline of Godden’s Reach, but 99% of it was greyed out. Only the small area he’d already covered was filled in.
No surprises there. Soulboxe was a game of exploration and creation, and it wouldn’t hand anything to you. If he wanted the map to be complete, he’d need to explore.
So now he knew he was in Soulboxe, and he knew which part of the game map he had started in. Next, he needed a plan.
Tripp already knew how he wanted to play the game. It came to him after listening to endless streams of players taking on dragons and goliaths using all manner of crazy weapons. The narrator talked about neon axes and swords taller than the person carrying them. Spears with flames burning on the tip, warhammers that roared with fire. Rare weapons, ones with names, ones that made people turn their heads with envy.
Excitement bubbled in Tripp as he listened to the streams. He found he wasn’t focusing on the descriptions of the players or the fighting, but their weapons.
So, what was cooler than being the guy swinging the ultra-rare sword?
The guy who poured his heart and soul into making the sword.
Someone had to make those weapons, didn’t they? The idea of making weapons sang to his creative side. It was a mix of imagination and skill, and that cocktail was what had made him choose to become a carpenter in real life.
That was how he’d play. He felt the need burning in him. It was a yearning to start learning skills and gathering materials and crafting.
First, he needed to know what resources he had.
He eyed the items on the ground. The last one was a Guide Orb. It was a glass ball with golden dust settled on the bottom, a little like a snow globe. There was no apparent use for it; no buttons, no instructions that he could see.
Turning it over, he saw writing carved into the underside of the base.
If you have a bee in your hand, what do you have in your eye?
“Is that a riddle?”
Of course it was. Either that, or a completely random, way too cryptic rhetorical question. But what would have happen when he solved it?
So now he was wearing a steel set of armor one piece away from completion, and he had a riddle knocking around his brain. He already had two things on his to-do list.
On cue, his stomach twisted a little. Hunger cramps. They had gone all-in on the realism of Soulboxe.
“I need food, another steel gauntlet, a weapon better than a bone dagger, and I have to solve this damn riddle.”
The problem was, he didn’t know where to go and his map wasn’t much help. What did you do when you got lost somewhere? You checked your cellphone.
Without knowing where anything was, his best bet was to try to find civilization. A city, town, hell, even a tavern. He’d need to get quests so he could earn a little gold, score loot items, and improve his skills. When he got them, of course.
That was the beauty of Soulboxe, though. Tripp had played hundreds of RPGs across every generation of the console family tree. With that ex
perience came a refinement in what he wanted from a game.
Non-linear systems that forced you to play the way the developers wanted? Get outta here!
The beauty of Soulboxe was that the players made the story themselves by what they did in-game. Part of this came through Boxe5 –the game’s artificial intelligence. It controlled the game on a macro level, whilst being powerful enough to give attention to every player.
It generated quests on the fly. A player who was spending time mining minerals? Soulboxe would tailor that person’s quests around that activity and their location.
A guy who loved slaying orcs? You better believe he’d find himself ass-deep in an orc storyline.
Tripp hoped there were no players like that around. He might have been wearing steel, but he was still an orc.
If he wanted to protect himself from potential orc-slayers, he’d need a weapon. The pen is mightier than the sword only applied if you had a giant pen that you could use to smash somebody’s skull. More importantly, he’d need skills. At least he knew how to do that.
Where Soulboxe gave players quests on the fly, it also monitored their actions. Actions translated to skills. The more you did something, the more likely you were to pick up a skill based on that action.
Choice was the buzzword. Few pre-defined classes, no suffocating pre-game choices. Want to be a mage who could tame animals? Sure, just learn a spell then go find a possum and make it your friend.
Tripp felt the buzz now. It was all coming back to him, everything that had drawn him into Soulboxe in the first place.
Now it was just a case of finding where to start. It was hard to judge where to go with his map being blank. He looked around, but it seemed the game had plonked him into the middle of the largest expanse of grass he’d ever seen. You could have played ten Super Bowls on this thing.
He needed civilization. The ruins to the east were just a memory of a long-gone settlement. He wondered if the owner of the giant skull had something to do with that. The creature certainly looked big enough to wipe out a town.
