by J. J. Lorden
Sports cars that could shift body panels and luxury sedans that locked down with a nanite shell when parked. On the highways and in cities, she’d seen them hovering using the embedded maglev systems. They were astonishing.
Plus, living in such a small town, she’d seen Austin’s NexU a couple times, and it was a marvel beyond any of the others.
Bendik’s car, however, eclipsed them all. It was so fantastic, that it might as well have been pulled from an alien civilization.
First, the vehicle was literally invisible until the man opened a door revealing its location. When he did, Irene had stopped cold and stared. The door had appeared to be a portal hovering in midair. Which was fine for a video game, but this was the curb in front of her house.
Bendik just commented that his situation required he get around unnoticed and hurried them inside. The inside seating was luxurious, although not overly so, with four tan, leather, captain’s-chair-style seats, and a large digital console projected below the windshield.
It didn’t actually have a windshield, more like a forward portion of glass. The whole top half was one seamless piece of glass–a rectangular dome with rounded corners.
The seats, which she’d assumed to be typical leather, were revealed to be something else entirely when Bendik put his hand directly through the side of his and pulled out two horse-pill-sized capsules filled with a cloudy, bluish liquid.
When he pulled his hand out, the hole just sealed back, resuming its masquerade of being leather again. Seeing the material shift so seamlessly left her again stunned, and she had started tentatively prodding the seats with one finger.
Bendik only got her attention back by poking her with a water bottle before handing her one of the pills. He gave the other to Ben.
Bendik’s explanation of the pill fit nicely into her current experience of feeling like Alice. “Nanite primer. It’ll speed up the process of integration when you get logged in.”
They’d both just nodded and swallowed the pills like the explanation was perfectly reasonable.
In the moment with the pill, Irene couldn’t help feeling a bit like she was dreaming. Or maybe waking up from a dream into a hidden world.
Whichever the case, sitting in Bendik’s invisible car, swallowing a nanite primer and preparing to enter a digital universe, what she knew life to be, died. And what was left felt young almost child-like. Irene hoped it was for real.
The vehicle also didn’t feel like it was rolling on tires; not on the beat-up roads between her place and Route 121. Unlike the major highways, there was no maglev in Raymond or on 121, so it’s ultra-smooth ride was entirely an onboard system. She might have argued it was just really great suspension, but then… the car flew.
Not in the sense of going extremely fast. No. It took off and flew.
On a section of two-lane road, they passed a semi-truck by going straight over it. Irene shrieked when that happened, peripherally noticing another car pass in the opposite direction somewhere over the truck. Oncoming traffic wasn’t an issue for Bendik’s ride.
The vehicle also moved at a terrifying speed that had her heart pounding for much of the trip. There was no speedometer that she could see, but the trip out to the Texier Labs complex was a tidy twenty-minute affair. Irene knew that trip, it was most of the way to Bath, and at least 50 miles. Meaning that Bendik’s vehicle had averaged at least 150mph.
When approaching the lab facility, they didn’t go through the front gate. Instead, they peeled off into the woods just as the gate lights came into view, passing down an old logging road and gliding toward the fence surrounding the facility.
The fence had parted like a curtain in front of the vehicle, closing behind them after they were through.
After that, when the concrete wall of the building opened in a similar fashion, splitting down a center seam and peeling away to the sides, thus allowing them entry into a small bay. That was when she began to sincerely consider if Bendik could be an alien.
It seemed a genuine consideration, at least for a moment.
Inside the building, Bendik introduced Irene and Ben to two men who were waiting for them, Pete and Olli. Olli was apparently also going to be joining them in the game.
After the introduction, Pete steered them through digital documents that he projected in front of both of them for review–NDA, waiver form, and contract agreement. Irene just signed them without a second thought–having come this far, she wasn’t going to let some legalese stop her.
Surprisingly the forms were only a couple pages each and Irene quickly found herself staring at the compensation portion of the contract.
The numbers were confusing in a way that made her eyes water. She reached a hand to try and pull the document closer. It swirled and reformed as her fingers disturbed the hologram, so she just stepped closer.
Base compensation: $541,000.00 per annum
Compensation period: Biweekly
Pay per period: $10,438.46
Currency: US dollars or the same denominated in Republic of New York Notes.
Additional Compensation: 100 Leos
After a long look, Irene leaned around the document to find the eyes of her new employer. As she did Ben grabbed her arm. “Mom. The compensation, did you see…” He trailed off as she patted his hand.
“Yeah, I see it.” She said and raised her brow to Bendik. “Is this correct?”
“It is,” he replied.
Irene nodded distractedly, then leaned back. That was more than three times what she made at the hospital. She twisted to peek at Ben’s contract agreement. It was identical. She whispered, “I think we might be able to afford that vacation. I’ll pay for the plane tickets; you pay for the hotel.”
Ben giggled. “Deal.”
Smiling and suddenly feeling a bit giddy herself, Irene leaned back around the floating document to ask her other question. “What’s a Leo?”
Bendik waved a hand dismissively. “Just a coin. I’ve got a bunch laying around, so I threw them in there.” He smiled.
She nodded again. “Okay. Are they worth anything?”
“I’m not sure; haven’t found anyone to appraise one yet. But I think you’ll appreciate them all the same.” His smile was a bit brighter and Irene was left curious.
They both signed their contracts in digital ink, Pete executed them on behalf of Texier Quantum Labs, and the projections vanished.
And just like that, without any fanfare, Irene was earning more than twice their total household income before Ronny died. Her shoulder muscles, tight with holding up an invisible weight of debt and responsibility, relaxed a little.
In a bit of a daze, Irene distractedly noticed Bendik accept a simple manila folder from Pete. As her eyes followed him approach and hand it to her son, Irene absently wondered what a man like Bendik could possibly need paper for.
Ben opened the folder, took only a few seconds to read the paper and burst out, “Holy Shit. No way.” Ben pushed the paper into her hands, “Look, Mom. Look.”
DARTMOUTH was in bold, green capital letters on the top.
Dear Mr. Benjamin Devine,
I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions has admitted you to the Class of 2069 under the Early Action program. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements…
That was all she needed to read, and Irene heard herself mutter, “No fucking way.” That was apparently funny to the small group as they all started laughing.
“Yes, fucking way,” Bendik said, continuing to laugh around his words. “Benjamin deserves it, and I don’t like to leave promises unfulfilled any longer than absolutely necessary.”
“How did you even have the time to do this?” she asked in a tone of disbelief.
Bendik smiled knowingly, and she almost wanted to be irritated with him for it, but it wasn’t annoying. Why isn’t that annoying? It should be annoying, she thought silently. Irene generally found any kind of a know-it-all to be unbearable.
But in Bendik’s case, he carried it with such humility it was just endearing.
“I asked Pete to arrange it not long after your run-in with my son.”
Irene marveled at the document and everything it meant to her and Ben alike; how many worries and concerns this one simple little piece of paper handled boggled her mind.
“This is beyond incredible, thank you so much.” Ben articulated with awe.
“You are most welcome, Benjamin.”
Pete and Bendik exchanged a look, Pete nodded, and Bendik clapped his hands together, gathering their attention. He rubbed his hands briskly beneath a wide grin. “Now that you’re officially part of the team, let’s go get you all plugged in.”
They headed to the back of the lobby and a thought occurred to Irene. The real person she needed to thank was Austin.
“God, I am so glad I listened to your son earlier tonight. I’m going to have to thank him for being so damn convincing. I have never in my life bent hospital policy so blatantly.”
Bendik raised an eyebrow, and surprisingly Olli chimed in. “That kid is sharp as a whip and clever as hell. I’ll bet he could give his old man a run for his money.”
He looked at Bendik, who nodded approvingly. “So, I’m not surprised in the least, doll. When Austin really wants something, he’s like a runaway locomotive. I’ve seen it more than once. Besides, he is Austin Texier, after all. Son of the legend.”
Bendik stepped in abruptly. “Enough of that, Olli. No man is an island, you know as much.”
“Yes sir, I do. Better than most, sorry about that.” Olli’s tone was conciliatory, and his face scrunched slightly almost like he’d bit into a lemon.
“No worries, my friend.”
Irene listened to the exchange with curiosity as they crowded into the maglift. She was about to comment, but Ben spoke first. “Olli, did you just call my mom, doll?”
Olli shook his head and grunted disparagingly. The noise was clearly meant in self-recrimination. “Yes, Ben, I believe I did, its an old habit I got from my Pop. I don’t mean it in a bad way, Irene just reminds me of someone. Sorry if I offended.”
Ben nodded in confirmation. “Right, I thought so. Don’t do that.” The inference was more than a little fierce and Ben glared directly at Olli, waiting.
The large man returned Ben’s look for a long moment before responding, “It will not happen again, Ben. You have my word.”
Ben nodded. “Good, thank you.”
With hardly a second of hesitation, Olli pushed through the group and sidled up next to Ben, then hip-checked him into the maglift wall with a big grin. “You’re alright, Ben. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
“Uhh… Okay, Olli.” Ben didn’t sound so sure.
The group exited the lift at sublevel 37 into a mostly open work lab. There were three workstations with large panel displays, a padded section in one corner with several bean-shaped cushions scattered about, a whole wall of digital whiteboards, and two other doors in the back.
They headed for one of the doors. “Remember, character creation is incredibly important,” Bendik said. “Each avatar ever created in Kuora will be unique, so forget about optimizing your build. It’s irrelevant. Take your time and create an avatar that best represents who you are.” He looked at Ben and winked. “It’ll be worth it.”
The door led into a room with immersion capsules arranged in a partial circle. The first three were in use, and through a transparent portion of the lid panel, Irene saw two men and a woman. Irene knew it was Austin and his friends Matty and Racheal, but black helmets made it impossible to see faces.
Bendik showed them which pods were theirs and pointed out the accompanying immersion suits hanging beside each.
The suits were apparently not strictly required, but for long term immersion Bendik said they would, “Make the transition back to Earth more pleasant.” Irene didn’t really know what that meant, she decided she didn’t care.
After the capsules verified identities the lids raised creating an eight-foot privacy wall on either side of Ben and Irene. Olli was in the first capsule, then Ben, and Irene. Lack of total privacy wasn’t an issue for any of them. In minutes they’d stripped and donned the suits.
Bendik addressed them one more time before they climbed in. “Okay, if everyone is changed, come on out. There’s a few final things you’ll want to know.”
They came out to stand before their pods and smiled at each other in their skintight black outfits. Irene appreciated Olli immediately. Jesus, the man’s built like Thor. It made her very aware of her own figure and she was grateful that she appreciated her own body, even if she wasn’t built like a Greek God.
“You all look fantastic!” Bendik exclaimed. “Now, listen up. The nanite system you’ll be using is entirely new. It only exists in my pods, and it’s way beyond the other VR immersion technologies out there.
“The first thing you’re going to experience is the mask; it’s a smart material that will grow around your face before setting up. It might feel a little strange, but it’s perfectly safe.
“Through the mask you’ll inhale a mist of nanites that are precisely matched to your genetic sequence…” He trailed off, as Irene held up a finger. “How did you get…”
He interrupted her, “I got genetic samples from you in the car.”
“Ahh, right,” she responded.
Bendik raised a brow to make sure she was satisfied. She nodded, so he resumed explaining the system. “As you can see from looking at me, these nanites also have a cellular regenerative effect. Irene and Olli, if you don’t want to look younger, we can turn that feature off.”
Irene didn’t even hesitate for a second. “Hell no, leave it on.”
“Yeah, leave that shit on,” Olli said. “I’m looking older than you, and we damn sure can’t have that.”
Bendik chortled. “Good, good. No worry for you, Ben, you’ll continue to age normally. The mist targets age regeneration to an appearance between 24 and 26–at least on the surface it does. Internally, everyone will be getting the same benefits. It’ll be working hard on your bodies on a cellular level. You will probably be in far better physical and mental condition when you exit than you are now.”
He bowed his head slightly. “You’re welcome in advance for that. I can tell you, having spent significant time in Kuora myself it’s not the freebee you may think. After playing for a few weeks, you’ll definitely feel like you earned every bit of your improved conditioning.
“Remember, character creation is meant as a test of your self knowledge. Follow your heart and you’ll be rewarded.”
They climbed in then and the pod lids were shut. The creepy masks poured out and grew around their faces. Within a couple minutes, all three were logged into Kuora online.
“They both seem like they’ll fit in well,” Pete commented as he watched the pod status panels shift and display: Avatar Creation.
He followed Bendik out of the pod room. “They will Pete, no leghoppers here.” Bendik paused beside the closest terminal. “Alice, do you have neural capacity numbers on the three people that just logged in?”
“I do, Mr. Texier, would you like them?”
“Yes, please put them up on the terminal.”
He and Pete turned, and the large panel populated with statistics. “They’re all well above normal,” Pete said. “I was expecting Olli, but the other two aren’t far below the baseline of Austin’s group.”
“Yes, this is good.” Bendik agreed. “The primers are helping, but Irene and Ben are also naturally gifted, they’re an excellent fit.” He smiled and looked at Pete, “Sometimes I feel like I need a cigar. Then I could say, I love it when a plan comes together, and take a big puff.”
Pete looked at him and shook his head. “And I would be whom? Face?”
Bendik shook his head, “No, my friend, I think you’d be the producer.” This elicited a smile from Pete. Bendik looked at the data and tilted his head in consideration.
“Anyhow, they’re capable of much higher compression.” He spoke to the room, “Alice, please change the time compression to tier two.”
“Yes, Mr. Texier,” the QI responded.
“Also, please notify me whenever all active players in Kuora reach a new neural capacity threshold.” Bendik turned to the maglift, and Pete followed. “Okay, let’s review progress in Colombia.”
13
Character Creation
Ink was bald as a cue ball. There was no hair above his neck, not even around his ears or on his face, Austin couldn’t even see any peach fuzz. Can someone even be that bald? he wondered, then answered himself, Maybe it’s genetic, with an internal chuckle.
The one place Ink had hair looked to be trying to compensate for the barren areas. His eyebrows.
Ink had wild, bushy, black eyebrows with strands that rose well into his forehead, others prodded the air before him like insectoid feelers, while still others drooped around and framed his eyes.
Remarkably, the monk didn’t seem creepy in the least. The contrast of his chrome-dome and crazy compensatory brows was balanced by dark eyes and a knowing smile.
Beyond these facial abnormalities, Ink had a measured energy bespeaking wisdom, and he wore his pristine white garb as if he knew each thread. A leather strap encircled his waist without buckle or tie in what appeared to be a seamless loop. Ink was, in every sense of the word, an Enigma. Austin liked him immediately.
“Hello, Ink. This must be character creation.” Austin said.
“Yes. This is the avatar creation realm.” Ink swept a slow hand across the clearing. “Here, you will create your avatar and learn to use the Kuoran interface.”
To the left of his clone, a menu appeared labeled Character Race. Below the header, starting with Human, was a long list of fantasy races. Austin read the first several and immediately realized there was no particular order, at least none that he could see. I wonder why Elle listed the races randomly. Expected popularity maybe? Austin thought before dismissing the concern to scroll through the list.
Human, Elf, Dwarf, Orc, Dramogan (Homo-Draconis), Centaurian, Gnome, Halfling, Hobbit, Goliath, Enderial (Oro-Entish), Trauco, Aasimar, Oread, Fellith, Hobgoblin, Slinith, Fae*, Spirith*, Merfolk*, Depdweller*, Chimic, Pantharene…
