by Alex Knight
“Don’t expect your handler to assist you on your quests. They are there to observe and report. Bravery, honor, and quest completion will be rewarded with experience, better equipment, and eventually, rank ups. Anything else – acting outside of quest parameters, attacking non-hostiles, failing to complete quests – will be met with punitive action.” He straightened up. “You’re part of the Warden Corps now, and that means you help protect the players of Nova Online and enforce the rule of law. Do so with honor and you will be rewarded beyond just in-game. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” they shouted in unison.
“Very well, then. Log off, ensigns. It’s chow time in the real world.”
As Sergeant Dawson gave the orders, Kaiden realized he hadn’t even considered eating. How long had he been in-game? Hours, at least. But how many exactly, he had no idea. Not that it mattered. Every moment he spent in-game was a moment not spent in prison. At least, not really. His body was there, sure, but his mind? His mind was here.
And that meant he could use the resources of Nova to clear his name, to earn his freedom. He made a mental note find out how to access the internet in-game when next he logged in, then looked down to the logout icon on the bottom right of his vision.
Just before he clicked it, Zelda stepped forward.
“Sergeant Dawson, I–”
“Log off, ensign.”
“Sir, I need to talk to you.”
Kaiden’s heart jumped into his throat.
She’s going to tell him about the crystals!
He darted forward, but stopped a moment later as the sergeant spoke.
“What you need to do is log off.”
“But, sir, I–”
“Log. Off.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode across the hangar. As he drew away, heading toward the exit, Zelda turned toward Kaiden. He balled one hand into a fist.
“You were going to rat me out, weren’t you?
She glared at him, anger burning in her eyes. Kaiden expected her to lash out. Verbally, for sure. But maybe physically, too. Instead, she looked down at the floor, then shook her head and sighed.
“We need to talk,” she said. “Next time we log on.”
“Yeah, we do. About why you’re so determined to–” Kaiden began, but found she’d disappeared. Already logged off.
What was her deal? Kaiden shook his head, equal parts angry and confused.
“Log off before you find yourself tumbling out of an airlock!” Sergeant Dawson’s voice carried from across the hangar.
“Yes, sir,” he said, then clicked the icon.
The world went black.
Chapter Nine
Dinner, just like breakfast, consisted of another delicious prison meal. Roast beef, steamed vegetables, and a side of pudding.
Yup. That’s what this is.
Kaiden forced his mind to stop wondering – and his nose to stop smelling – what the kitchen staff had actually dumped onto his tray and took a seat at the far end of the cafeteria. The room echoed with the constant low roar of a hundred conversations happening all at once, and every other table was occupied by one group or another.
Loosely organized by gang affiliation, no doubt.
Kaiden had heard of the gangs that prowled the lower levels of the cities, of course. The media always maintained that crime was at an all-time low, but everyone knew which areas to avoid and what times it was dangerous to be out at night. The country was still rife with their illegal, and often violent, activities. Still, from the looks of things, it appeared the Party had done a good job of catching a lot of them. Too good a job, perhaps, considering Kaiden was now trapped in here with all of them. Just about every other prisoner was marked with tattoos showing loyalty to their gang.
One group had tattoos depicting gambling dice rolled to snake eyes, caught in a spiderweb. Kaiden hadn’t a clue what gang they belonged to, but they obviously had a problem with the men sitting at the table beside them, who were marked by tattoos of a crown with a five-pointed star above it.
Behind Kaiden sat a group with tattoos of brass knuckles across the back of their necks. They shared their table with prisoners boasting crossed tridents inked onto their forearms.
Were the two gangs allied? Kaiden wasn’t really sure. All he was sure of was that he didn’t belong here. And not just because he was innocent, but because he seemed the only prisoner in the room without some sort of gang affiliation.
The only affiliation he had, by any stretch of the word, was with the wardens. Right about now, that felt as useless as a soup sandwich.
As soon as he’d logged off Nova and exited his VR pod, The Governor had strode past with a hurried “congrats” and tossed a new pin at him.
Where his old warden pin had been small and made of brass, the new one was larger and made of some sort of gleaming silver steel. It was almost the exact color of the shoulder patches worn by Sergeant Dawson and the other wardens in-game. But right now, he wasn’t in-game, and in the cafeteria, surrounded by tattooed men, all the pin did was make him stand out. Make him a target.
Forcing another mouthful of delicious, delicious roast beef down his throat, Kaiden moved to inconspicuously take the warden pin off his collar. Maybe if he didn’t wear it outside of the warden ward he would draw less attention to himself. Not that anyone seemed to be noticing him now, anyway.
A few moments later, he’d removed the pin and slipped it into his pocket.
“Oh, no, no, no! There’s no need to be ashamed. Don’t hide that fancy badge of yours.”
Kaiden’s heart dropped into his stomach as he recognized the voice. His thoughts flashed back to the screaming maniac licking the glass of his cell, a smiling face above a tattoo- and scar-covered body.
“Oh, come now. It’s only polite to face someone when they’re talking to you. Didn’t your mother teach you that?” A hand latched onto Kaiden’s shoulder then spun him around.
Not a step away, the same prisoner who’d screamed at him on day one stood, arms crossed. Two thugs stood behind him, scowling from behind broken noses and scarred faces. Each of their biceps looked as thick as Kaiden’s head.
The prisoner Kaiden recognized stood eerily still in front of them all, looking like a storm ready to break. Then he moved, and Kaiden winced. But the man was just extending a hand.
“Manson Roxbury. It’s an absolute delight to meet you.” He drew his lips back in something approaching a smile but with far too many teeth. “And you are?”
“Kaiden...uh, Kaiden Moore,” he said before he could stop himself.
Manson grabbed his hand in a crushing grip and shook it, slow and deliberate.
“Oh, it’s simply wonderful to properly meet you, Kaiden. It’s just so nice to have a...conversation without that pesky glass and those meddlesome guards between us. Wouldn’t you agree?”
No, actually, I preferred the guards. The guards were good. And the glass, too.
“He don’t look like much to me,” one of Manson’s thugs grunted.
Manson backhanded the man across the face, so quick Kaiden would have missed it if he’d blinked.
“I’ll tolerate no disrespect of our new friend Kaiden,” he shouted, eyes ablaze with anger. Then, in a flash, his anger was gone. But no, not gone. Kaiden looked closer and saw it was still there, just disguised. Boiling right beneath the surface.
This man is straight unstable.
About that, there was no doubt. But Kaiden was at a loss for how to handle the situation. He was outnumbered and outmuscled.
“No, we won’t disrespect Kaiden the warden,” Manson said, drawing him from his thoughts. “In fact, we should all be so lucky as to learn from him. Follow his example, even.”
Or just pretend like I’m not here. That would be good.
“After all, you’re one of the Party’s little experiments, aren’t you?” He sat down at the table and pushed Kaiden’s tray aside. It slid several inches, then clattered to the floor. The noise rang out through
the cafeteria and the room fell silent. All eyes were on them now.
“Chosen by the Party for rehabilitation. I bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He leaned in close as he spoke, hot breath washing across Kaiden’s face.
He leaned away on instinct, then caught himself.
I can’t show fear. Especially not with the whole cafeteria watching. No, I have to stand my ground.
Hadn’t he read that somewhere? Fight back hard so he wouldn’t be messed with? But how? Actual fighting was out of the question, certainly. And not just because they were all bigger and stronger than him, but because he hadn’t been in a single fight in his life.
So I have to bluff. Right? What other option is there?
Kaiden swallowed hard at the thought. He had absolutely no way of backing up anything he said. It was almost enough to make him wish he had some hideous gang tattoo plastered across him. At least then he’d have people to back him up. Well, and he’d be an actual criminal. But criminal or not, right about then all Kaiden was concerned with was not being beaten to a pulp.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you, warden?”
Think, Kaiden. Think! Say something intimidating.
“Uh, uh…”
Insult their appearance! No, that’s not enough.
Kaiden’s blood was turning to ice, spreading through his body and freezing him in place.
Talk smack about their love lives?
Why was he so bad at this? He would’ve thought all those years watching people flame each other back and forth in various games would have taught him a thing or two.
Well, say something, at least!
“Uh…” Kaiden’s eyes flicked to the gang tattoo on Manson’s neck, then below it, a smaller tattoo. ‘Mother,’ it read, complete with a small heart.
“Your mother was a–” Kaiden began, but before the rest of the sentence was out of his mouth Manson slammed a hand into his throat and bent him backward over the table.
“My mother was an honest-to-God saint, you little maggot,” he snarled, the word spraying from his lips in a shower of spittle.
Kaiden gasped as Manson’s grip squeezed his airway shut. He pried and clawed at the man’s hand, fingernails digging into it, but to no avail. The grip only tightened.
“That was your last mistake, warden.” Somehow, he squeezed tighter still. The thugs surrounding them were hooting and hollering now, hands cupped around their mouths as they egged Manson on.
Kaiden could barely hear them for his own pulse pounding in his head and some sort of sad, wheezing noise leaking from his near-closed throat. Blooms of darkness began to form at the edges of his vision and his head fell to one side.
And then a hand clapped down on Manson’s shoulder. He snarled, turning to look down at it. A series of tattoos covered the knuckles. Four little Xs with a long, bold line running beneath all of them.
At the sight of the tattoos, Manson froze, then released his grip. A rush of air filled Kaiden’s lungs and he rolled to the side, coughing and breathing heavily. His vision was still black at the edges, but with each breath it faded some.
“My apologies, friend.”
Kaiden rolled back over to find Manson with his hands retracted in front of his chest.
“We don’t want any trouble with the King Street Gang,” he said to a figure towering over him. “Nor with you, my friend. Especially not with you.”
Kaiden blinked once, then twice, steadying his vision.
Titus. The figure was Titus.
“Best you move along, then,” he said, as calm as if he were greeting a friend.
“Right you are,” Manson said, backing away. “Uh, enjoy your meal.” And with that, he turned and fled across the cafeteria with his thugs in tow.
Titus picked Kaiden up and sat him back in his seat. Then, as if nothing had happened, sat down and started eating his meal. As he did, all those who had been watching turned back to their meals and the buzz of conversation resumed.
Still in shock, it was several moments before Kaiden managed to respond.
“Thank you,” he said, voice still hoarse from nearly being choked to death.
Titus shrugged.
“This isn’t your world. You don’t belong here.” Then, after a long moment: “Video games aren’t my world.” He swallowed another mouthful of dinner, then turned to face Kaiden, meeting his eyes directly. “You get my back in-game. I get your back out here. Fair?”
“Uh, yeah,” Kaiden nodded enthusiastically while rubbing at his throat. “Sounds very fair.”
It didn’t take a genius to tell Titus wasn’t a gamer. Likewise, Kaiden knew it was obvious he didn’t belong in this prison. Whether he hid his warden pin or not, it wouldn’t make a difference. But with Titus by his side? Well, there was a chance he might just live long enough to prove his innocence. And in the process, he could help Titus in Nova. Yeah, that sounded good. That sounded very good.
“You going to eat that?” Titus asked, nodding to a portion of spilled slop from Kaiden’s tray.
“Uh, no. All yours.”
“Cool.”
Titus scooped the mush onto his tray and dug in.
Chapter Ten
Welcome to Nova Online.
The title screen dissolved to a blank field of white, then faded to reveal the hangar of the WCSS Anakoni.
Day two at the new job. Hopefully fewer of us will die today, huh?
After the rigors of the test the day prior, Kaiden had slept like a dead man. Exhausting himself in Nova Online seemed to carry over somewhat to the real world. Whatever the reason, the night had passed in a blur followed by an even quicker breakfast and then right back into the pod farm. He was a warden now, after all.
“So you made it to day two of your service in the Warden Corps,” Sergeant Dawson said, striding through the freshly ranked up ensigns as they logged in. “I bet you’re feeling awful proud of yourselves right now, aren’t you?” He stopped alongside Mara, one of the women who’d come in with Zelda’s batch of recruits.
“You feeling proud of yourself today?”
“Sir, I am feeling proud, sir.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to feel proud, ensign. Give me a lap around the hangar. Go, go, go!”
Mara took off at a sprint and everyone else averted their gaze as Sergeant Dawson searched for his next target. Kaiden kept himself turned slightly away, which was evidently a mistake.
“Ensign Kaiden!”
“Yes, sir,” he said, snapping to attention as the sergeant stalked over.
“You feeling proud of yourself today?”
Kaiden glanced over to the running Mara, then back to the sergeant.
“Sir, I’m not feeling proud today, sir.”
“You’re not proud to be an ensign in my Warden Corps? Unacceptable! Give me a lap.”
“Yes, sir.” Kaiden suppressed a sigh as he leaned forward into a jog and followed Mara’s path around the hangar.
“As a matter of fact, you all look a bit too smug for my taste this morning. Get to running.”
Mara led the fourteen of them in a lap around the hangar, which, considering the size of the place, was a considerable distance. By the time they got back to the sergeant, Kaiden’s stamina bar was completely empty.
Achievement Unlocked!
Ground Pounder - 25 EXP gained!
You’ve completed your first physical training exercise. In the service of the Warden Corps you’ll complete many, many more.
“You’re wardens now, ensigns. You’re not allowed to be low level. But don’t you worry, I’ve got just the thing to fix that.” He paused, then smiled. “You know what grinding is?”
A few mumbled ‘yes, sirs,’ trickled out from the winded recruits. Kaiden joined in. Of course he knew what grinding was. Virtually every game required some form of it. Most of the time it just involved killing endless amounts of weak mobs until you leveled high enough to move on to bigger and better things.
“Bu
llcrap. You don’t know what grinding is. Not yet, at least. By the time I get through with–”
An alarm blared through the hangar, rising and falling in pitch like an air raid siren. Orange lights on the walls began to flash on and off. A moment later, a woman’s voice came over the ship’s intercom.
“This is a priority two alert. I repeat, priority two alert. All crew to staging areas.”
The intercom clicked off and the siren followed. The lights continued flashing, however.
“Priority two?” Zelda asked, turning toward the sergeant.
“Developing situation,” he said, eyes distant. A moment later they snapped back down.
“Grab your gear and get to your staging area in the canteen. Double time, ensigns! Go, go, go!”
“What do we do once we get there, sir?” a recruit asked.
“You wait,” Sergeant Dawson yelled, already jogging toward the hangar's exit.
“Wait?”
“Hurrying up and then waiting are traditional warden pastimes. Get used to it.” He paused at the doors leading out of the hangar. “Canteen’s to the left. Now move!”
Kaiden forced himself into a jog along with the other ensigns as Sergeant Dawson disappeared to another part of the ship.
Mara led the way as the ensigns left the hangar then turned down a hallway. Here, the ship was flooded with activity. Wardens of all ranks rushed about, calling out to one another and hurrying to destinations unknown.
The hallways of the Anakoni were similar to those of the Dalcinae, except bigger in every way and in tip-top shape. Rows of pipes covered the ceiling, while matte gray walls lined the hall. Every so often, they passed thick-framed doors leading into other passages or rooms.
