The server brightened once she understood the reasoning behind Emerson’s question, the dejected sulk shoved from her body by an animated spirit.
“If all goes well”—she glanced toward the kitchen to indicate the source of potential problems—“I’ll go in next Monday. I won a trial subscription when Pod People ran that promo event. You know, where people scored the chance to try Relic Online through VR pods. The discount they gave on implants afterward was just enough that I was able to pay with my savings.” She paused, seeming to realize she’d given away a lot of irrelevant information. “How long have you been playing?”
Emerson glanced at Devon, color rising in his cheeks as he tried to figure out how to answer that.
“I was lucky enough to start on day one,” Devon said, giving him some room to process. “How was it with the VR capsule?”
“Amazing,” the server said. “They say it isn’t even comparable to the implant experience though.”
Devon nodded as a strange wistfulness clamped her chest. What would it have been like to enter Relic Online as a player who didn’t have to worry about rampaging demonic AI or company politics at E-Squared? What if she’d started in the newbie zones like most of the players and could just play for fun?
Of course, she wouldn’t be playing at all if Emerson hadn’t hired her to put Veia through her paces. She’d heard cost quotes on the implant surgery that put it north of what she’d made in a year herding tourists at Fort Kolob.
“Wait, you play too?” the girl said with a grin. “Which starting area did you get? I’ve been combing the forums for weeks. It seems pretty hard to meta-game since they have AIs changing the content all the time.”
Devon couldn’t help glancing at Emerson, who dropped his gaze to the table.
“I was an anomaly of sorts,” Devon said, deciding it was too much work to make up a story. “I started in the middle of the jungle all by myself.”
“Wait…” the girl said, fixing Devon with a considering stare. Devon’s heart sank when she realized her mistake. When Pod People had run the joint promotion with E-Squared, they’d used a hologram of Devon’s in-game character as the spokesperson for the event. Anyone who’d watched the holo’s performance outside a Pod Person location knew about Devon’s character’s backstory. She suppressed a groan.
“Yes, that was me,” she said with deliberate vagueness, hoping she was wrong and the girl would have no idea what she meant.
“Whoa,” the girl said with awe in her voice. “How did you—”
A sharp rap of a ladle against the door frame caused the girl to jump. Her father stood in the entrance to the kitchen, brows lowered over glaring eyes.
“Shit, sorry,” the girl said, raising her tablet again. “What can I get you guys?”
“What’s good?” Devon asked, setting the menu aside.
The server looked alarmed at the responsibility of recommending something. “I don’t know. I like the number five pho combo.”
Devon nodded. “Perfect. I’ll have that and a coffee.”
“Vietnamese coffee?”
“Uh…” Devon said, “sounds good?”
“I’ll have the same,” Emerson said quietly. At some point during the conversation, he’d pulled out a phone and was scanning some sort of message. Devon raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him use such old tech when he had a messaging interface projected into his field of vision by the implants.
The girl hovered as if unsure whether to go back to talking about Relic Online or whether she should head back to the kitchen. Devon cast her smile, then pulled the pen from her purse and wrote her messenger contact with a napkin. The girl’s eyes went wider as Devon tore it off and handed it over.
“It’s been a bit crazy for me in-game,” Devon said. “But maybe once you have your surgery, things will be a bit mellower.”
As the girl walked away, Devon sighed. It had been an impulsive gesture to hand over her contact, mostly motivated by the desire to get back to her conversation with Emerson. Sure, she wouldn’t mind helping a new player out—if she actually had time for that kind of thing. And anyway, after working so hard to avoid other players, why extend an open invitation to a stranger? Was it due to more than her desire to shoo the girl from the table? Was she getting lonely or soft or something?
“What’s going on?” she said, gesturing toward Emerson’s phone. His face had grown more and more concerned the longer he stared at the text on its screen.
“I guess it’s kind of ironic. The message relates to the reason I asked to meet up.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Well, we think we finally have a strategy for helping Owen. And since he’s the worst case, if we manage to get him away from Zaa’s control without damaging his mind, we’ll learn a lot about how to wean others off the AI’s influence.”
“Okay… So what’s your plan?”
“Actually, lemme back up a minute. You still have all that Shadowed stuff on your character sheet, right?”
Devon’s brows drew together. “Yeah… Why? And for what it’s worth, I still haven’t figured out what makes my Shadowed stat go up.”
Emerson smirked. “Funny you should mention that, because I actually have the answer.”
“What?” she said, sitting back in her chair.
He nodded twice, first at her to confirm his statement and second to acknowledge the server who had crept over to set their complicated coffee-brewing vessels on the table. The girl gave a quick smile and darted off.
“Well, spill it then,” Devon said. “What did you figure out that I couldn’t after checking my character sheet a thousand times an hour for the last two weeks?”
He laughed, but it was a bit halfhearted. “We monitored your data stream. Both of them, actually. The information your character sends to Veia and that which it sends to Zaa. Putting it all together, we figured out that your Shadowed stat goes up when you use the special abilities on a couple of your pieces of gear.”
Devon dropped her elbow to the table, then let her forehead fall into her palm. Of course. Her Leather Doublet of Darkness and her Bracers of Smoke both had demon skin scraps worked into the construction. They granted special abilities with a shadowy, demony flair. Why hadn’t she noticed that using them boosted the stat? Duh.
“You’re right. I see it now. So what does that have to do with Owen?”
“Yeah…Well, I guess I should just come out with it. We think the way to rescue Owen is to contact him in the game world.”
That didn’t sound too terrible. “All right. So like…message him? I assume you know his character name.” She pinched her temples as her brain started to catch up. “But actually, he’s under the influence of Zaa, right? So he’s probably playing some demon lord or something. Same as when I was Ezraxis while asleep.”
Emerson tapped his index finger on the table a few times. “Yeah… That’s just it. Regardless of the specific state of his unconscious mind, at this point, we’re rather certain that he thinks he’s a demon lord. If you were to try to message—or worse, meet up with—his character while playing Devon the goody-goody Sorcerer-slash-Deceiver, we’re pretty sure he’d try to turn you into Devon pudding. You need to get past his initial defenses and worm your way into his circle of associates before you remind him who he is.”
“Wait, are you saying I need to become Ezraxis again?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah. Our theory is that when you become 100% Shadowed, you’ll transform into some sort of demon. Maybe not Ezraxis since she theoretically died. Or maybe that will be the manifestation. No idea.”
Devon blinked as she stared at her coffee contraption. “How do you work this?” she asked, poking the little metal pot balanced on top of a clear glass filled partway with what looked like cream or condensed milk or something.
Emerson fiddled with it for a minute, then plucked the lid from his pot to expose a murky brown liquid. While he stared at
the contents, a heavy black drop formed on the bottom of the pot and dripped into the milky stuff.
He shrugged. “I think it’s brewing.”
She shrugged back. “Seems plausible.” She jiggled her contraption and watched a few drops fall. “Okay, so say I become a demon… Even now, when I think hard about how Ezraxis had control of my mind, I wig out a little bit. Will I really become demonic? I mean, as a demon, I tried to massacre everyone in Stonehaven. I’m not keen to experience that consciously, especially if I keep the memories.”
Emerson grimaced. “Well… Kind of? One of the reasons we’re asking you is because you actually defeated your demon-self once before. We think that you have the resilience to keep a grasp on yourself while wearing the demon’s body. Which isn’t to say it will be easy.”
Devon sighed heavily, then fixed her face into a semblance of a smile as the server brought their bowls of noodles. The girl’s father followed with a plate of…stuff.
“Sprouts and basil,” he said by way of explanation as he clacked the plate down between them. The server apologized with her eyes before the pair retreated to the kitchen.
“And even if I become this demon, how do I find Owen? Can you teleport me to him or something?”
He shook his head. “It’s a complicated process because much of the game state isn’t readable by conventional means. It’s stored deep in the AIs’ neural nets. We can help, but it won’t be a straightforward matter of plopping you down at his location in the demonic plane. If that’s even where his character is.”
Devon sighed. “So I’m probably going to have to find him as well.”
“We can pull information from his network stream to give you some clues if that’s any consolation. Of course…” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I guess that brings me to the message I just got. Did you know that Owen’s father is the governor of Georgia?”
“Wait, what?” Devon said, pushing her chair back from the table in shock.
Emerson sighed. “I guess not. So, yeah, there’s that. And it gets worse. Governor Calhoun is a somewhat infamous anti-technologist. The fact that his son is an implanted professional gamer presents all kinds of political problems. They used to deal with this by hiding Owen away from the public. Unfortunately, according to Owen’s girlfriend, the father may decide to move the situation in another direction. They’re thinking of going public with his condition and laying the blame on E-Squared.”
“Well, shit,” Devon said, inspecting her array of utensils and choosing the fork and spoon rather than chopsticks.
“Exactly.”
Devon dipped her spoon into the steaming broth. She hadn’t yet asked about a potential joint promo between Tamara’s mountain biking sponsor and E-Squared, and at this point she wasn’t sure she had the energy. Anyway, Emerson wasn’t really the right person to field questions about marketing. A promo involving company partnerships would no doubt have to be approved by someone like Bradley Williams. And the chances of him pulling the trigger on an idea floated by one of his engineers’ pet players? Pretty slim.
Unless she did something crazy like turning into a demon to rescue the son of the governor of Georgia from the clutches of an evil AI created by Bradley William’s company. Yeah, that might give her a little more pull.
Chapter Ten
“RAM AND BOARD, mateys! Thar be plunder,” Blackbeard squawked as he flapped down from the sky and landed heavily beside Devon.
/You said you would fix my beak. As you might have noticed, it’s still broken./
“For your information, Hazel and I risked our lives yesterday to work on the issue,” Devon said.
She kept her eyes on the scene near the forge where Chen, between casting glares at Hailey and kicking a toe into the ground to make sure it was obvious he was upset, was observing as Dorden hammered dings from the knight’s chest plate. Chen’s armor had been thoroughly battered by the demon encounter and the subsequent death penalty—some of the dents were so bad, Devon wasn’t sure how Chen had still fit inside his gear. After a few hard hammer blows, the dwarf flipped the mallet into the air, caught the head in his hand, and offered the handle out to Chen. The teenager cast Dorden a questioning look, and the dwarf nodded. Chen sidestepped until he was in front of the anvil and gave a few tentative taps at the steel plate. Dorden clapped the boy on his shoulder approvingly, then crossed his arms over his chest.
“We be flying the Jolly Roger today, mate,” Blackbeard said.
/So you strode into danger. Ever thought about the added peril a dwarven toddler presents to an oversized bird with brightly hued feathers? You don’t hear me trumpeting the sacrifices I make for a peaceable settlement. We’re talking output here, not effort./
The parrot squawked and preened for a moment.
/And what’s with torturing me with that poet?/
“Funny you should ask since you’re the one complaining about your dysfunctional beak. Traditionally parrots learn to speak by mimicking their human companions. And Edwish needed an audience.”
“Heave ho, scalawag,” Blackbeard said, flapping his wings.
/Well, the guy’s an arse and his poetry is what typically comes out of one. I’d rather have my beak amputated than listen to more of his drivel. Fix it, human./
Devon took a deep breath. She had promised, somewhere along the line, to help the bird. And if he hadn’t fertilized the orchard, Stonehaven probably wouldn’t have survived its famine. But he didn’t have to be such a jerk.
“When I see Edwish next, I’ll suggest he take a writer’s retreat. Work on new material. But that’s your choice, not mine. Until we cleanse the corruption on the awakening stones, Edwish is your best bet for learning to speak.”
“Awwk! Pretty bird. Pretty bird.”
/Worthless,/ Blackbeard said into her mind as he lifted a wing and ran a few feathers through his beak. Shaking her head, Devon left him to his preening. As she joined the main path through the settlement, which was now wide enough to accommodate handcarts in both directions and paved with the smoothest of their cobblestones, she passed Hailey sitting on a low stone. The woman had a small collection of items arrayed before her.
“You said the new priestess could identify things, right?” Hailey asked.
Devon sighed. “Eventually. If I figure out how to prove I’m Veia’s chosen champion.” She pulled off her Forest Leather Headband for a moment while she gathered her hair into a braid. “I never liked vague quests. You?”
Hailey shrugged. “It didn’t use to bother me because I could just look it up. No matter how vague, there were always the few people who wanted the honor of figuring it out and posting a walk-through.”
Devon smirked, shaking her head. “I used to complain about gaming sites ruining the adventure by posting all the answers, but at this point, I wouldn’t mind some spoilers.”
“Exactly.” Hailey scanned her up and down. “You’re all geared up. Where are you headed?”
“It’s not like I take my armor off very often.” Devon sighed. “But yeah, heading out. I promised Hezbek I would check out the player encampment. Figured I could at least work on my basic skills on the way there and back.”
Hailey raised an eyebrow. “You? Going to socialize?”
“Only as much as I need to satisfy the quest requirements. Anyway, the walk will give me time to think about some stuff.” She paused, wondering if she should mention Owen’s family situation. He’d never told them that his dad was a prominent politician. Or at the very least, he’d never told her. Maybe it wasn’t her place to expose his secret to their guildmates. But she did want someone to talk to about the turning-into-a-demon thing. It scared her more than she wanted to admit.
“Stuff, huh?”
Devon shrugged. “I guess I’ve been busy making decisions about Stonehaven’s advancement. Will be nice to take some time to focus on other parts of the game.”
“Okay, well, see you later I guess. Emmare
e says my gear will be repaired by afternoon. I’ll probably see if Chen’s forgiven me enough to group up.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it soon,” Devon offered.
“If you’re back, maybe the three of us can do a little hunting together. It might help us make up for some of the experience Chen and I missed out on during my dumb boat ride.”
Devon raised an eyebrow. Hailey didn’t usually go so far as to call her mistakes stupid. She must’ve been feeling more down than she let on. Devon glanced again at the items scattered before the woman, an eclectic set of trinkets and idols and bits of stone, feathers, and wood. She wondered if Hailey was as annoyed as she was about the identification difficulties in game.
“Cool, I’ll look for you in a few hours then. It would be nice to group up and just play. Maybe clear a mini-dungeon if we can find one.”
Hailey grinned. “That sounds really awesome, actually. Hurry back.”
With a wave, Devon continued on. As usual, Jarleck was stationed near the main gate where he could oversee upgrades to the fortifications. The outer curtain wall, a stone barricade around fifteen feet high, was finally finished. Because the foundation was set inside a dry moat, from the inside the wall didn’t look more than seven or eight feet tall, but attackers coming from the savanna would have to first drop into the moat, then scale the sheer face. The outer gate was offset from the inner, and a band of cleared area twenty feet wide stood between the walls. To move from one gate to the other, attackers would be exposed in Jarleck’s so-called “killing field” for a couple of hundred yards. The whole time, archers on the palisade would have clear shots. As for the inner wall, work was slowly ongoing to upgrade from wood to stone. Jarleck had started this upgrade from the gate and was working outward. Devon laid a hand on a smooth stone block where a massive iron hinge had been bolted to the wall. The main gate, as usual, was barred shut, the foot traffic going through a small door beside it. It felt good to know Stonehaven had these defenses. She turned a smile on Jarleck, thinking she needed to figure out more ways to reward him.
Citadel of Smoke: A LitRPG and GameLit Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 4) Page 8
