by Anthea Sharp
“Right,” Jennet said. “Let Marie know we’ll be up in the game-room.”
“Confirmed.”
Tam looked around, trying to be nonchalant. The warmly-lit foyer was empty, except for the two of them. “Is that… your house computer?”
He’d heard of fully-wired houses, but never imagined what it might be like to actually live in one. It was interesting - and creepy. Jennet didn’t stand much chance of sneaking out at night, did she?
“Yes,” she said. “Dad calls the computer HANA - House Activated Network Assistant.” She set her satchel on the floor and started up the wide stairs.
“Who’s Marie?” Tam trailed after her. He was afraid to touch anything in this pristine, clean-smelling place. Half-turning, he checked to make sure he wasn’t leaving grimy footprints on the pale carpet.
“Marie’s the house manager. She makes sure that everything is working smoothly, meals are done on time, that kind of thing.”
“How big is your family?” He knew almost nothing about Jennet’s life. Then again, she knew almost nothing about his, either, and he was happy to keep it that way.
“It’s just me and my dad,” Jennet said. “My mom left when I was a kid.” Her words rang hollowly in the quiet corridor. All the doors were closed, except the tall double-doors at the end.
Really? A fully-wired house and a ‘manager’ just for Jennet and her Dad. Good thing she hadn’t seen his sorry house - the living room that doubled as bedroom for both him and the Bug, the scrappy furniture, the tiny kitchen. The distance between his house and Jennet’s felt like the distance between galaxies. And just as unbridgeable. The only thing that kept him from turning around and going back to the Exe was the enticing promise of the Full-D system.
She led him through, then shut the doors behind them. “Here we are - the gaming room. Complete with Full-D.”
Tam’s feet stopped moving. He was dimly aware of other sim systems in the room, a bank of screens against the far wall, but all he could do was blink at the simulator right in front of him. Wait - the two simulators.
The helmets gleamed silver. The chairs were wide and comfortable, upholstered in something that was probably real leather. The gloves were studded with LEDs that shone like jewels.
“Yeah.” The word escaped from between his lips.
“So.” Jennet’s voice dropped to a whisper and she pushed at the plush carpet with one foot. “Don’t tell anybody about this, ok?”
He pulled his gaze from the sim-systems, trying to ignore the stab of hurt lancing through him. Of course she wouldn’t want people to know that he’d been invited over. Trash from the Exe sullying her perfect house.
“What, that I came to your house?” The words left a sour taste in his mouth. “I hadn’t planned on it.”
“No, no. I mean, don’t tell anybody about the Full-D system. Nobody except corporate is supposed to see it. And…” she stepped closer to him, “nobody is supposed to know about Feyland. Not even me. All right?”
Her blue eyes stared into his, pleading, and his heartbeat was suddenly louder in his ears. “I won’t tell.”
“Not even Marny.”
“Ok. She’s not interested in simming anyway.”
Jennet nodded and the urgency in her eyes faded. “Then come take a look.”
Tam stepped up to the systems. He slid his fingers over the top of one helmet, the plas-metal cool and smooth under his touch. Excitement began shooting through his nerves like crazy firecrackers. He hoped Jennet couldn’t tell how sparked he was.
The Full-D system. Here, real, and within his reach.
“See this?” She flipped a switch beside the systems, and a low buzz filled the air.
“What is it?”
“The scrambler. To make sure no corporate spies - or hackbots - can tell what’s going on in here.”
“That’s…” totally insane. But apparently not, since here it was.
Tam picked up one of the gloves. It felt heavy and expensive in his hand. He could hardly wait to see what the game was like. Feyland. The syllables rolled silently down his tongue.
“Miss Jennet?” There was a knock, and then the door to the hallway swung open to reveal a dark-haired woman in a suit. She was holding a tray of food. “I brought you some sandwiches.”
“Oh, hi, Marie. Thanks,” Jennet said, her voice pitched higher than usual. She gave Tam a look he couldn’t decipher.
He put the glove down, and silence settled awkwardly in the spaces between them as Marie put the tray on a nearby table.
She turned and raised her eyebrows at Jennet. “You have brought home a guest?”
“Um, yes,” Jennet said. “This is Tam. From school. He likes to game, so I thought I’d give him a peek at the Full-D.”
The dark-haired women pinned Tam with her gaze. She looked down at his battered boots, then back up, taking in every rip and fray in his secondhand clothing. The suspicion in her eyes only deepened, like she expected him to pull a tab of spray out of his back pocket and start tagging the nearest wall.
“I see.” Her voice was clipped, with an accent he couldn’t identify. “If he is going to be a regular visitor, we’ll need to run a thorough security clearance.”
Jennet turned wide eyes to him, as if she feared he had a criminal record just waiting to be discovered. “Oh! Well, I’m sure—”
“No problem.” Tam stepped forward. “Do you need fingerprints or something?”
He knew he was clean. Taking care of Mom and the Bug didn’t leave much time for getting wild, even if he leaned that way. And yeah, he’d broken the law before, out of necessity - but in the Exe the rules didn’t matter. Only survival. And not getting caught. He was good at both.
The house manager flicked her gaze up to his face. “That would be best. Fingerprints.”
“How about later,” Jennet said, with a too-bright smile. “It can wait til next time, right?”
Marie’s eyebrows gathered into a frown, but she nodded. “Very well. I will be downstairs. Tell HANA if there is anything more you need.” She stepped into the hallway and gave Tam one last, skeptical look before closing the door behind her.
“Whew.” Jennet rolled her eyes. “I didn’t expect Marie herself. Usually one of the maids brings up snacks.”
One of the maids? He couldn’t imagine. “Obviously she wanted to see what kind of spoilage you’re bringing home.”
As if it wasn’t obvious. The Exe clung to him, a grungy cloud there was no escaping. Even if his boots had been clean and his hair neatly cut, he couldn’t get away from it, from who he was.
Except in-game. He shot a glance at the Full-D systems, anticipation curling and uncurling through him again.
“You’re not spoilage,” Jennet said. Then she tilted her head, giving him a long, level look. “I think you’re fine how you are.”
A tiny flame of a smile warmed him inside, though he tried not to let it show. “Ok, then. Let’s play.”
She went to the door and turned the lock with a decisive click, then grabbed a couple sandwiches off the tray. “Here. Marie gets mad if her food isn’t eaten.”
“I’d hate to see what she’s like mad.” Regular Marie had been bad enough.
He took a big bite of sandwich - real meat, and crisp, fresh lettuce instead of Vegipro. It tasted great, and he never turned down free food.
“Finish that up and grab a brownie,” Jennet said. “I’ll get us ready. There’s a sink in the corner when you’re done snacking.”
The quiet hum of the Full-D systems vibrated the air. Tam bolted down a brownie, taking a second to savor the rich chocolate on his tongue, then went to wipe his hands. He didn’t want to get smears on the shiny equipment, after all.
“Ready.” So ready.
He felt like a kid on his birthday, with a million presents waiting, all wrapped in glittery paper. In one minute he was going to tear into them, and each one would be exactly what he’d wanted.
“Come on, then.” Jenn
et settled into one of the chairs. She gave him a smile that trembled at the edges, then slid on her gloves. “Gear up. When you get to the main screen, it’s the F icon from the menu. I’ll see you in there!” The helmet’s visor covered her smile, dimming it from bright noon to moonlight.
Tam eased into the chair. It welcomed him with a soft and comfortable embrace. He pulled on the helmet and slipped his hands into the gloves. Excitement filled his lungs, thick and sweet, like honey.
Game time.
CHAPTER TEN
The game helmet was like wearing air - so comfortable, he barely felt it. Tam let out his breath as the main menu lit up in front of his eyes. The resolution was about a hundred times clearer than on his system. No fuzzy graphics, no weird color shifts or lines across his vision. It felt like the images were inside his brain.
The F icon glowed, softly golden, looking like it was made of scrolled flame. It took only the slightest flex of his finger to select it. These gloves were prime. Super responsive - nothing like his thrashed-out gear. The menu faded out, replaced with blinking words:
Feyland: A VirtuMax Production
Alpha 1.5.0486
This was going to be incredible.
The visor-screen went dark. Faint music began playing, mysterious and chiming. Light slowly etched across his vision, a delicate tracery like webs or tree branches. He hoped, rather desperately, that this wasn’t one of those girly games. But if Jennet needed his help, he’d do his best - even if it meant defeating sparkly pink dragons.
WELCOME TO FEYLAND
The words unfurled across the screen. The letters glowed a rich gold that deepened to crimson, then faded to grey, as though they had burned down to ash. The music twisted, and the dim letters suddenly whirled up into a flurry of dark-edged leaves. Behind them Tam thought he saw a pair of eyes watching from the shadows, but before he could be sure, the leaves swirled once again. This time, the screen cleared to show something much more familiar: a character-creator interface.
“Have you made your avatar yet?” Jennet’s voice came clearly through the headset. It sounded like she was standing right next to him.
“Just about to.” He studied the choices, trying to get a feel for the game’s design, the various roles people could play. Was Feyland really going to be as different as he hoped?
Spellweaver - no, not another magic user.
Bard - interesting, but obviously not a heavy combat class. He figured Jennet would need a serious warrior-type.
“Got any thoughts on this?” he asked.
“How about a Knight?” she replied, confirming his guess.
Lifting his index finger, he highlighted the choice.
KNIGHT - Skilled at feats of arms, noble, courageous, and true, the Knight can best almost any enemy in battle. Only magic can bring this hero to his knees - but even then, the Knight’s sword may prove of greater power.
Below the description stood a basic character, ready to be modified to his specifications. He scrolled through the options, adding more detail to the avatar. His Knight would be tall, of course, and strong. But not bulging with too much muscle - quickness could usually beat strength, if there was room to move. Thick dark hair, and, yeah, that heroic-looking chin. Blue eyes, but not quite that close together. With another flick of his finger, he put the final touches on his new self.
The character bounced slightly up and down, and Tam smiled to himself. Now for a name. Roland? No, that seemed too stuffy. He needed another anagram. Wernin? Newrin – yeah.
He double-clicked his thumb and index finger, the universal glove command to bring up the keyboard. Though he preferred voice and finger commands, he could type well enough when he had to. He entered the name, Newrin, then vanished the keyboard interface. Yes, his Knight looked good, clad in shiny silver armor with a huge sword at his side and a grim-looking shield strapped to his back.
Character complete. Enter game?
He pulled in a breath, then tipped his thumb up. Yes.
A fanfare of trumpets blared as his vision went golden. There was an odd, queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach. The sandwich and brownie weren’t sitting too well.
Then all discomfort was forgotten as Tam got his first glimpse of Feyland.
He found himself standing in a clearing surrounded by white-barked trees. The sky was bright blue overhead, the grass a vivid green. Wind moved across the leaves of the trees, leaving flashes of shimmering silver as they rustled in its wake. A bird swooped past him, singing, and he could practically feel the warm air against his face. He glanced around, looking for Jennet, and saw he was in the middle of a circle of pale mushrooms.
Beside him, the air glowed brightly, and Jennet suddenly appeared. She was wearing a green dress that looked like something from the Middle Ages, but fancier. Her hair was intricately braided, and she carried a tall oaken staff with a white glowing crystal set in the end. Other than that she looked almost exactly like herself - her features a touch sharper, her eyes brighter.
“We’re in!” She smiled at him. “Welcome to the game, Tam. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure.” He took an experimental step forward.
“Careful! Don’t crush the fairy ring.”
“The - oh.” He eyed the mushrooms surrounding them. “Ok. How do you change the camera angle to a different POV? I’m not used to gaming in first person.”
An anxious line appeared across her forehead. “I should have explained. You stay in your character - it’s part of the immersive experience. The designers decided you should always see through your character’s eyes, hear through their ears - and feel,” she reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek, “what your character feels.”
“I think I actually felt that.” He moved his shoulders. The armor weighed practically nothing, but he could still feel it. Could feel the wind, too, tickling through his hair. “Those are some serious advances in game tech.”
Her gaze dropped to the rich green grass beneath their feet. “Yes. I told you it was different from anything you’ve ever played. But don’t worry. The devs made sure to dial the uncomfortable stuff way back. You won’t feel much pain here.”
“I just wanted to see myself. Check out my gear and stuff.”
“Of course. You can draw your sword and enter combat stance by—” She broke off, laughing, as he found the control movement before she could explain. “Very good.” There was admiration in her voice, and something that sounded like hope.
“It’s just a pull-back. Easy enough.”
He swished the sword through the air a few times, and then re-sheathed it. His shield had immediately appeared, strapped to his left arm, as soon as his weapon was drawn.
She cocked her head and examined him a moment. “Hey, I didn’t know you had green eyes. Your hair is always in your face, you know.”
“Huh. I thought I chose blue.” Hadn’t he? He was sure of it.
“Well, the game still has some bugs. You could say it has a mind of its own.” She laughed again, but there was a forced edge to it. “Ready to quest? As soon as we step out of the fairy ring, the creatures of the world will be able to interact with us. The starting lands are pretty easy to handle, though. And you’ll pick it up quickly, I’m sure.”
“Great. Let’s go.” He took a step forward then, for fun, leaped over the boundary of mushrooms.
This gaming system was really amazing. He no sooner thought of the movement than the sim translated it to his character. There must be some kind of complicated neuro-interface built into the gear. Every other system he’d played had a response-time lag. With his own, he had to rely a lot more on manual commands - specific combinations of hand and finger gestures that sent instructions to the game. This, though, was practically powered by thought alone. It made him giddy.
Jennet stepped out of the ring, her movements graceful, then waved to a mossy path leading between the trees.
“The game begins this way,” she said, starting down the path.<
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Branches rustled behind them, and Tam whirled, sword at the ready. Nobody was visible, but high laughter chimed from between the leaves.
“Who’s there?” he called.
“It’s just the pixies,” Jennet said. “Don’t worry about them - they’re harmless. Come on.”
Tam sheathed his weapon and followed Jennet between the pale tree trunks. Soon the forest thinned and beyond the tree-line he glimpsed a rise of small green hills. At the very edge of the wood was a house, one of those English-cottage looking places with white walls and a thatched roof. Sitting on the doorstep was the ugliest little man Tam had ever seen.
His nose was enormous, a jutting cliff that overshadowed his dark eyes and thin lips. The only things larger than his nose were his two ears, great ugly flaps of skin on either side of his head. He was covered in a pelt of coarse brown hair, his only clothing a tattered cloth tied about his waist. He smelled, too, like moldy earth and old wood-smoke.
Jennet stopped in front of the creature. A clay bowl filled with what looked like milk appeared between her hands, and she knelt and placed it on the weathered step.
“Greetings, Fynnod,” she said. Then she leaned toward Tam and spoke softly. “He’s a Brownie - they like milk. I’ll try and explain the game lore to you as we go along.”
Tam nodded. “Right.”
“Fair Jennet.” The little man’s voice was hoarse, as though he were unused to speaking. “You return - with a companion. Will you continue further into the Realm?”
“Yes,” she said.
Fynnod tilted his head up and looked at Tam. Something murky moved in his eyes. “Knight. Are you brave enough to accept the first quest?”
“Sure,” Tam said.
Every game had its beginner quests. Generally they were pretty easy. They started a storyline, and gave you a chance to practice your abilities and get comfortable in your new surroundings.
The brown man remained silent, and Jennet cleared her throat. When Tam turned to look at her, she nodded her head up and down and mouthed the word yes. Oh, right - a role-playing script. RP wasn’t his favorite, but it looked like “sure” hadn’t been coded into Fynnod’s list of acceptable replies.
“Yes, I accept your quest,” Tam said.
The little man let out a cackle. “Very good.” He reached into a lumpy bag beside him. “Take this sieve, and fill it with water from the river. When you return it to me, I will grant you passage to the next level.”
