by Noah Barnett
"I took out a dropship and a couple of fighters," Monty said, grinning behind his mustache.
"I managed a fighter before they winged me," Jen shrugged.
"Gadreel is truly an angel from the heavens. She put us on the perfect course to slay the demons while they sought Jennifer. Five were sent to Hell before they got us."
"That's good," Charlie congratulated them. "Way better than yesterday, for sure."
They headed into the debriefing room, finding it already full. Mansfield was holding a tablet and checking players off as they entered, so they quickly took their seats along the back row.
"Good, we can get started now."
Behind him, the simulation played out on the screen at several times speed, the green icons rapidly disappearing in the chaos of combat.
"Everyone died in twenty-two minutes this time, which I suppose can forgive. There were twice as many enemies today, so overall we did better."
He pointed at the screen, narrating as the replay began. "As you can see, the battle unfolded on two major fronts: Those who turned to engage the Roth fighters and those who burned toward the dropships. Group Alpha, which consisted of sixty-eight Jaguars, engaged a hundred Roth fighters and succeeded in destroying sixty-six of them. That is almost parity, and I congratulate you all on your skill after only a day's experience. Group Beta killed only fourteen fighters, but they also destroyed six dropships."
Everyone watched as the Roth finished off the rest of the fighters. The display went dark as the lieutenant turned to them.
"Our flight may not have the highest kill count, but so far today we’ve taken out by far the most tonnage. I am pleased with your efforts."
He looked down at his tablet.
"Spanky and Charlie, stand up."
Charlie stood, along with another player, a short Hispanic man with black hair and piercing eyes sitting several seats over.
"Both of you are up for flight lead. Tomorrow, Charlie will direct the formation. Spanky will take the day after, and whoever’s flight scores higher will be selected," Mansfield continued.
Spanky smirked. He would have the advantage in going second, as his flight would receive a day's more training.
"You can sit down," Mansfield said, and Charlie sat heavily despite the lunar gravity.
"I want you all to remember why you're here. We are protecting the Earth, so you will follow the flight leader’s instructions. Disobey an order and you won't receive any pay for the simulation, I don't care if you get a hundred kills single-handedly."
With a glare, he eyed the players and pilots. "Everyone get that?"
He tapped his tablet, ending the simulation. "I'm going to call on individual pilots. If you receive a message, come to my office so we can go over your flight maneuvers. The rest of you can talk, have breakfast, or log off and get some more sleep."
Charlie stood with his team, still a little dazed.
"Congrats," Jen told him once they were outside.
"Thanks, but how do they expect us to herd cats?" He rolled his eyes. "We've all seen the sim videos. As soon as combat starts everything is pure chaos."
"That's your problem," Remy smirked, slapping his ass. "Let's go check out the market. Maybe we can buy something for tomorrow."
They followed the crowd from the briefing room and managed to locate some open consoles. Charlie placed his palm on the screen and the Hub popped up.
All of the prices were higher than he remembered - except for oxygen, which had dropped to pennies. Shrike [EM] Missiles were eight thousand credits more expensive than they had been on day one, but then, they had proved the most effective against the Roth fighters. He bought a pair and topped up the air on the Jaguar, leaving just enough left for another thousand liters of fuel. When he was done, he reviewed the list.
_______________________________
Oxygen - 1200L x 1.9 credits = 2280
Fuel - 1000L x 12.3 credits = 12300
2x Shrike [EM] SRM = 62K
Total = 76580
_______________________________
He accepted the charge, then logged out. Elva took his place, putting her hand on the screen. Her ID flashed, and she glanced over the market list before filling up the Jaguar’s fuel tank.
"Thank you."
"It's both our asses out there," she smirked. "I'm afraid you’ll blow the money on missiles and leave me without fuel to maneuver."
"You got me there." He turned to the others. "What are you guys going to purchase?"
"Our attack on the dropships was successful, so Grace and I have fueled the ship. There was enough left over for a pair of Dumbfire Needles," Monty said from his place at the console.
Tobias nodded. "The reward for slaying the demons was good. Gadreel and I have discussed getting a pair of Shrikes."
"We did well today, but tomorrow I'm going to need someone to watch my back. I'm still not sure what they expect," Charlie admitted, closing the window. He was poor again, but at least now they had more firepower.
"Don't sell yourself short." Monty patted him on the shoulder. "You brought us this far."
"Thank you," he sighed gratefully.
"Sorry, but I'm going to bail. Nap time calls," Remy yawned, closing her console and heading from the room.
"What about the rest of you? Care for some lunch?" Charlie asked his remaining wing members.
"I’ll tag along," Monty agreed.
"You go ahead, brother," Tobias said, moving toward Jen. She turned and gave the larger man a half-smile.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lunch
For a time, Charlie walked beside Monty in companionable silence while Grace and Elva engaged in their own quiet discourse. Even after a week on the lunar base, Charlie still found the ‘moon shuffle’ a bit awkward. He often found himself pushing too hard off the floor and sailing along faster than he intended. But at least the corridor was sparsely populated, with only a few players and NPCs to witness his embarrassment. Monty, of course, had his hands behind his back and was coasting along like a seasoned professional.
“How do you like the game world?” he asked.
“I am enjoying myself immensely, except for the fact that we are cooped up in this base—though I know it’s only temporary. Grace and I are excited to be in space.
“... And you?” he asked, after a pause.
Charlie took a few seconds to answer, dodging around a small crowd of NPCs. The game was like a dream come true for him. He did miss the girls, especially their warmth in his bed, but they’d be able to join Star Nova after the official launch.
“I love it, especially being in the fighter and cruising past Earth. It’s a heady feeling.”
They came to the mess hall and he paused near the open door. Inside, the space was crowded with people getting lunch or drinks.
“I can’t help but agree,” Monty said, gliding past him into the low din. Elva and Grace went through next and he followed them to a side table serving coffee and tea. Elva poured herself a cup of coffee, while Charlie filled a cheap insulated plastic cup with water and a cloth tea bag.
“It’s been months since you were digitized. I know you were losing that battle with cancer, but do you ever wonder if you’re different now, like you’re not exactly the same Monty?”
“The first few days I did, and I’ve heard that some Avatars have more trouble than others. But I remember my final days quite clearly and they are not pleasant memories. By comparison, I no longer have to crawl from the bed, back and legs aching, to reach the restroom, praying that I make it in time. I am embarrassed to say that on more than one occasion I did not succeed.”
“What did you do before? Were you—” he glanced at Grace before asking, “Married?”
“No, my first bout with cancer was testicular. I survived, though my loins were barren thereafter. At the time, I was thirty-four and a history teacher. Instead of female company, I became fixated on the American Civil War, which led me to a professorship at a local college. I also became a
leader in the community reenactment groups.”
He smiled nostalgically.
“I have very fond memories of teaching young men and women about the formative years of our country, and after a time I was introduced to virtual immersion by one of my students. By then, I hadn’t the energy for the day-long reenactment battles, and my career was beginning to suffer. I believe you know the rest.”
“Originally, weren’t Avatars stuck in the games they were digitized in?” Charlie took a sip of his tea, which tasted a tad bitter.
“Yes. Early… shall we say, ‘immigrants,’ took much greater risks to immortalize themselves.”
“But you can leave Star Nova?”
“Oh yes. I can log out to a low-level transfer hub, and from there, I could visit any number of games or Avatar-friendly locations. I could even return to Gun Meister to—” Monty was interrupted by Grace jabbing him hard in the side.
She glared at him. “I hope, for your sake, that you don’t finish that statement.”
He laughed, trying to put an arm around Grace, but she pushed back from the table and left the mess hall in a huff.
Monty watched her go with a smile of wry amusement. Charlie was surprised as well, and it must have shown on his face.
“I am truly astonished by Grace’s burgeoning personality,” Monty mused as the woman in question walked stiffly from the lunchroom. “She is growing more and more human by the day. While fascinating, I don’t know if it’s entirely a good thing.”
“You’re not going after her?”
“I will, but let us finish our conversation first. I believe the Roth are learning just as we are. I suppose the question is, are we learning faster?”
“Elva and company are doing an amazing job, but they’re at a disadvantage. The Roth Interceptors are faster, smaller, and better armed. We players have an easy job by comparison; all we have to do is track the targets.”
“During orientation, they were surprisingly circumspect about what will happen should we fail.”
Elva had been quietly sipping her coffee, but at that, she made a face, lowering her cup to the table.
“Our situation is dire, but the Roth have lost their main base on Mars. The carrier has no logistical support, other than its respawn capability. We haven’t seen any escorts, freighters, or other support craft, so they’ll be forced to leave the solar system sooner or later.”
“But only after smashing whatever is left of humanity,” Charlie added, taking another sip of his bitter tea. Grimacing, he pushed the plastic cup away. It still didn’t make much sense. Why were the Roth going to such trouble?
“I wonder why they attacked Earth in the first place?” he wondered aloud.
“Getting rid of the competition? Wolves will often chase off small predators from their territory,” Monty suggested, draining the last of his cup.
“In that case, why didn’t they just nuke Earth from orbit?”
“That might have something to do with the Roth need for glory. I’ve heard a theory that they need it for status, or possibly as a form of currency.”
Charlie furrowed his brow. While that was certainly plausible, it still didn’t explain the attack. “Shouldn’t they have waited for humanity to reach the stars, if they were looking for good fights?”
“It’s like a contrasting goal. The Constructs can have pathways that seem at odds with one other. Take Grace, for example. She’s been striving for more independence, but she still agreed to marry me.”
“Really? Congratulations!” Charlie exclaimed, and Monty smiled, almost sheepishly.
“Speaking of that, I should probably go in search of her. I’ll be in even more trouble should I fail to make amends.”
Monty slid from his seat and disappeared from the room, leaving Charlie with Elva and his empty teacup.
Elva coughed lightly, and he turned to look at her.
“I think he’s wrong about Grace.”
“About her independence?”
“I mentioned before that I felt almost too free. There are so many choices I can make now that it’s almost impossible to find the perfect one. In Gun Meister we could access only forty-eight databases, so our options were limited, but we still had our personal file-share. Because of that, our Meisters formed much of our initial memories.”
“Yes, you said that the Meister was near the center of a spiderweb of memories.”
“Just so, and for Grace—” Elva couldn’t finish the statement, instead glancing away from Charlie.
“Monty was unfortunately gone because of the cancer treatments?” Charlie asked, and Elva nodded. “I remember her sitting on that park bench for days.”
“It’s not as though Grace doesn’t love him, but she was forced to take care of herself. We Constructs begin our lives in such a childlike state that early memories are much more powerful. Now it’s becoming a basic part of her personality.”
“I see. Do you hope to one day be sentient?” Charlie asked the question carefully, but Elva didn’t look at him just yet. He wondered if she was digging up a rote response.
“Our file-shares are permanent in the same way that Avatars’ are, but the chances that any of us could actually become independently sentient are fairly low. Still… I can hope.”
“Will you want to leave the game?”
She shook her head. “An Avatar can move between servers. Their data, that is, their memories, are slowly lost by the the previous server. The primary server continues to run their information, and they continue on as normal. There is a natural law of singularity, almost as though the data encapsulates a soul. My file-share, unfortunately, is located on the Skybot Construct Servers. Even if I ‘left’ the game, I’d still need access to that information.”
“I see. Now I understand why the devs went to such lengths to make Star Nova as real as the outside world.”
“What makes your world any more real than mine?”
Charlie shrugged. “Sneezes, maybe? To be honest, I’m not sure.”
A noise drew Charlie’s attention toward the mess hall door, where Tobias and Jen seemed to be arguing. His big hand was curled around her wrist to stop her from walking away.
“I told you, I'm not interested in a relationship. I need more time.” Jen’s voice was quickly losing patience.
“We had something.”
“Sorry, but I didn’t feel it.”
“But we—”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jen interrupted, pulling her wrist free. Tobias stumbled through the door in the low lunar gravity, barely catching himself before he slammed face first into the floor.
By the time he gained his feet, Jen was already walking away. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he seemed torn between staying and going after her.
“Tobias!” Charlie called, and the big man turned. Again, he seemed conflicted, but Charlie waved him over and he slid into Monty’s vacated seat.
“Elva, would you get us three coffees?” Charlie asked, pushing his empty cup toward his companion. Elva glanced at Tobias, then got up and headed toward the coffee table.
Tobias looked like a man who’d bitten into something distasteful. Charlie sympathized. He had, at one point, briefly entertained the same notions concerning Jen. That hadn’t been in the cards, however, and now he was quietly grateful. Jen was as hard to grasp as the night sky. He’d warned Tobias of that. In fact, a tiny part of him wanted to say, ‘I told you so.’
Instead, he asked, “How’s your fighter?”
“Not bad. Gadreel is ordering more missiles.”
“No holy lances?” Charlie joked.
“Not in the mood for theatrics today.”
“Sorry,” he replied, as Elva returned with three mugs. Tobias took his and drank like a man used to cheap, tar-like coffee.
Charlie watched him, wondering what the man really thought of the NPCs. It was obvious that he was still trying to pursue a relationship with Jen instead of Gadreel.
The C
onstructs weren’t stupid, but subtlety wasn’t exactly one of their strong points. In Gun Meister, Tobias had treated Gadreel like a goddess. Now he seemed to be mostly ignoring her, which Charlie thought was unfair.
“Gadreel is amazing at navigation,” Elva said, jumping into the conversation. “She’s usually the first to work up the best solution.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“How does Remy’s companion, what’s his name, Eugine, stack up?”
Elva sighed. “His emotional lock makes him apathetic about everything, so he usually comes in last, but Alastair is much doing better since Gadreel started coaching him.”
