by Terry Schott
“Hey, that’s not a fair thing to say.”
“Fair?” Stacey cocked her head looked at him through hooded eyes. “I’m supposed to be an adult with the freedom to choose how to spend my time. That’s how things are supposed to be.” Her voice got louder. “But it turns out that’s not true. Some dipwad politician gets to tell me what to do. They decide I am happier in this real world and make me go back to a garbage job that pays dirt wages just so that toilets can flush in the city again.”
“It’s an important job, Stacey. If we were not here to do it then thousands of houses would—”
Stacey picked up a notebook and threw it at him. “Don’t care about the toilets, Arnie!”
“Hey, stop it. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“Wanna make sure I’m okay? Then get Transition back online. You know what I did in there, Arnie? Do you know what I did in there?”
“Um, not really.”
She glared at him, her chest heaving. “I did a lot of cool stuff in there, that’s what. In the fantasy zones, I was part of a very big guild. We had progressed against some extremely tough raid bosses. I led a group of twenty and we were the second best group in the guild.” She paused and waited for him to respond.
He squinted and raised his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what any of that means.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “How can you not know what that means? Of all people, you look like you should be the biggest geek of all. You should have been a freakin’ High Lord Wizard or something in there, man, but you didn’t even play.”
“I had a bad experience with fantasy when I was a kid.” Arnie pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “When I was thirteen, a bully broke into my friend’s house while we were playing Dungeons and Dragons and he beat me up. Made me eat a d20.”
“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You asked me why I didn’t play.”
“Oh my god.” Stacey’s looked up at the ceiling. “I’m so bored. This is such crap.” She rubbed her forehead and put her head back down on the desk. “I so can’t do this with you right now.”
“B-b-but,” Arnie stammered.
Stacey raised one hand and made a rude gesture. “Here ya go, Arnie. I’m all good. Now leave me alone will ya?”
“Okay.” He looked around. Other people were glaring at him from their desks. He leaned close to Stacey. “It’s just that your section of the system is blocked. There’s no water running and you need to clear it.”
“Don’t care.” Her muffled voice echoed from inside her folded arm, the other still holding her finger up.
“You’ve gotta fix it, or—”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?”
Arnie paused. “Um. No, I guess that won’t happen.”
“That’s right. None of us can be fired. We have to be here.”
“Still, you have to do your job.”
With her head still down, Stacey held up her keyboard. “Hit F2.”
“What?”
“Hit F2!” she shouted.
Arnie found the key and pressed it with one finger. Stacey dropped the keyboard to the desk with a loud crash. “There. That did it, Arnie. Congrats. We are so needed here to keep things running that any idiot who can tap a key will do the trick.”
Arnie frowned.
“I can still hear you breathing. I’m gonna count to five and then look up. If you’re still standing here when that happens, I swear to god I’m gonna bash your head in with my monitor and see if they are seriously not firing me, no matter what I do.”
His voice became more stern. “I’m not going to stand here and put up with this kind of abuse. You owe me an ap—”
“One.”
Arnie turned and walked quickly toward the exit.
#35
Shawn entered the office and looked around. “Hello? Anyone here?”
The door to the back room opened and Ivan stuck his head out. “Back here, boss. Come join us.”
Shawn walked through the door and his eyes widened. “Wow, the middle table is completely cleaned off, except for the treats in the middle. That’s a surprise.”
Loredana smiled. “I convinced Ivan to move his bits and pieces out of the way for a while.” She nodded toward the wall filled with whiteboards. “We’ve cleaned the boards off, too.”
“New brainstorming session?” Shawn sat down and reached for a chocolate chip muffin.
“Yeah. First item.” Loredana pushed a paper plate toward him. “The Game park is going to be hidden from players.”
Shawn frowned. “I thought Transition was taken offline?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because everyone was ejected from the world and told they can no longer re-enter.”
Loredana smirked. “Have you been paying attention to what’s happening out there?”
Shawn laughed. “Yeah. Society is angry.”
“You can take away a lot of things from people, if you do it slowly and properly. Introduce fear and violence in the right measure, and you can even have the majority come running to you with their rights and freedom in hand, begging you to take them away in order to protect them.” Loredana shook her head. “But, if you take away things that please people, and do it abruptly, then you’re going to have serious problems.”
“Which is exactly what is happening right now.” Ivan grabbed a juice box and removed the plastic straw stuck to its side.
“Transition never went offline.” Loredana walked to the board and wrote a T in the middle. “And I expect people will be moving back into that reality within the next few weeks.”
Shawn broke off a piece of muffin and ate it. “Why hide the Game park from players?”
Ivan speared the juice box with his straw. “It’s too real.”
Shawn looked at Loredana and she nodded. “Then why not delete it?”
“We put a lot of work into that attraction.” She stood on tiptoes and, in the corner of the board, wrote the word, ‘Game’, then drew a square around it. “No sense in deleting it. We can simply hide it so that it’s not accessible.”
Shawn shrugged. “Do what you like, it’s your park. I’ve already been paid for it. Not that the money is of much use anymore. No one on this planet seems interested in being here. I wouldn’t take a chance on travelling right now. Who knows if the plane would blow up due to improper maintenance or if the pilot is even a real pilot.”
“There are some countries that haven’t been affected by Transition.”
“For now.” Ivan sipped from his straw. “That’s likely to change during the next wave of play.”
Shawn shook his head and Loredana returned to the table. “Let’s not worry about that right now. We still need you as part of our team, Shawn. If life should happen to move into Transition, we can make certain that you are wealthy inside that reality.”
Shawn took a deep breath. “I’m afraid to know what that even means, but okay. I’m happy to hang out with the two of you.”
Ivan winked. “You won’t just be hanging out.”
“Helping you create?”
Loredana reached over and took a piece of Shawn’s muffin. “Do you meditate?”
Shawn laughed. “I did for a while, but then I got bored and decided to write instead. I find writing similar to how others describe the state they achieve when meditating.”
“Interesting.” She took a bite of muffin. “What about the worlds you write about?”
“What about them?”
“Do you have them mapped out on paper or a computer?”
Shawn grunted. “No. Fans have requested it, but whenever I try to do something like that, it gets confusing to me.” He tapped his head. “I just keep it all up here. Seems like whenever I need to know something, the answer simply appears.”
Ivan slurped air through his straw as his juice ran out. “That could work.”
“What could?”
&nb
sp; Loredana chewed slowly. “We are going to need details about the worlds you tell stories in and the characters.”
“Why?”
“Remember how I told you I might have seen Cooper?”
Shawn raised one eyebrow. “I remember.”
“I think I met another character from your books, yesterday.”
“Someone try to kill you again?”
“I hope not.” She smiled.
“How did you stumble into this character?”
“She was apparently living here for a long time, but now she’s inside Transition.”
“She?” Shawn leaned forward. “I’m not sure I believe you, but I’m interested to know which of my cool characters you claim to have met.”
“She said her name was Desdemona Thorne.”
Shawn’s smile melted.
“You don’t look too happy to hear that name.”
“I didn’t write much about her, but I know quite a bit about Desdemona.”
Loredana brushed the crumbs from the table in front of her. “I’m guessing the story is not good.”
“No.” Shawn pushed the rest of his muffin to one side. “It’s not good at all.”
#36
It has been two months since the governments of the world forced Lava Games to shut down their Virtual Reality game, Transition. Despite assurances that things would return to how they were before the game took hold of our lives, this has not been the case.
Widespread refusal to work continues to plague society at all levels, and the loss of jobs is resulting in homelessness and hunger of epidemic proportions.
Large scale rioting is impossible to contain because emergency services were affected as deeply as every other sector by people refusing to work.
National and local governments appear to have no clue about how to fix this snowballing problem.
President Altholme has scheduled a press conference for later this afternoon, but it is unlikely she will have much, if any, positive light to shed on the matter.
Jennese Milton, World News Tonight, Channel 7
President Anna Altholme sat in the back of her limo and looked out the window. Crowds of dirty, disheveled people lined the streets, some yelling at her car.
Most stood with blank expressions on their faces, hands hanging at their sides.
“They look like zombies,” Anna muttered.
“Pardon me, Madame President?”
Anna turned to her press secretary, Tilden St. Claire. “What is it?”
Tilden’s frown became pleasant as he looked down at the large planner opened in his lap. “I was asking if you want me to send a response to the World Summit regarding your availability next week?”
“Is it being held here this time?”
“Yes, Madame President. The capital city will play host to this meeting.”
“Fine.”
The car turned and passed through a heavy gate. Protestors lined both sides of the road and soldiers formed a solid barricade.
“It’s not getting better.”
Tilden looked up from his planner. “Perhaps soon.”
The president sat straighter, smoothing her blazer as the car came to a stop. After a moment, there was one tap on the hood and the security agent sitting in the front passenger seat nodded. “It’s safe to get out, Madame President. Door opening in two seconds.”
She nodded and the door opened.
As she emerged, Anna was immediately surrounded by three security agents on each side and in front of her. As they moved forward, three more agents closed the gap behind her. They began to move toward a raised stage with a podium. Anna could hear the screaming of protestors and she shook her head.
My advisors are right. I shouldn’t be making public appearances right now.
The agent on her right side grunted and stumbled forward, almost losing his footing. Everyone stopped.
Anna felt something hit her in the lower back. A sharp pain spread into her legs and up into her chest, followed by a numbness. She crumpled to the ground, her face toward the sky.
“Danson!” someone yelled.
Anna frowned as the familiar face of one of her guards, Danson, entered her field of vision, His eyes were wide. “You shouldn’t have shut the game down, Anna.” White spit flew from his mouth. “You became a dictator and that can’t go on.”
Danson disappeared and Anna felt herself being lifted. The pain in her back and numbness in her hands and feet was confusing. She was dizzy.
She heard the car door slam shut and the noises of the crowd became dull.
“Madame President!” Tilden shouted.
“Something’s wrong, Tilden,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
“Hang on, Anna,” he said. “We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just hold on.”
“Tired.” Her head tilted against the back of the seat. “Wake me in a bit.” The president's eye's closed and she became limp, slumping sideways onto the seat.
Tilden was pushed back in his seat as the lead guard began CPR. “Anna. Don’t go to sleep, Anna. Hang on!”
The president’s head rocked back and forth, keeping time with the compressions.
#37
Desdemona strode down the long hallway and stopped at the massive wooden doors, rapping before pushing them open and entering the great hall.
Sunlight streamed through the windows and skylights, sparkling as it struck floating dust motes. A large oak table occupied the middle of the room, fifty feet long with high-backed dark oak chairs on both sides, all empty. At the far end, Henry sat in the head chair, a knife and fork in his hands as he cut a piece of steak from his plate. “Are you hungry, my dear?”
“Thank you, no.” Desdemona pulled out the chair to Henry’s right with a loud scrape. She reached for a wine goblet and set it down in front of her. “A bit of wine would be nice.”
Henry nodded and reached for the decanter, filling the glass with deep red wine.
“Thank you, my Lord.” She raised the glass, sniffed it, and took a drink.
Henry watched her for a moment and then looked down at his plate. “Are you bored already?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
He shrugged and raised the piece of steak to his mouth, closing his eyes as he chewed slowly. “I appreciate the finer things in life once more.” He placed his fork on the table and reached for his glass of wine. “For decades, I dreamed of tasting food again. Of walking around, being free to do as I like.”
Desdemona snorted. “We are not free. We’ve traded one prison for another.”
Henry scowled.
“Don’t get me wrong.” She raised her glass to point at the hall. “It’s a very nice prison. Still, we are confined to one zone of a much larger dimension.”
“You are never happy, are you?”
She laughed. “I am often happy, my Lord.” Her smile faded. “But I do not enjoy being caged.”
Henry chuckled. “Then these past years must have been hell for you.”
“Thankfully, most of the time we were in stasis.” She shuddered. “If we were fully awake the entire time, being trapped in those metal cases would have driven us all mad.”
“This zone is large. I think it could be a long time before we explore it fully.” He raised one hand over his plate and made a circular motion. After a moment, the plate shimmered and disappeared, replaced by a laptop. “Plus, we can create anything we like here.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Henry frowned. “You sulk about and make it seem as if Loredana exiled us to one of the deepest pits of hell.”
Desdemona raised her eyebrows. “You surprise me, Henry. I thought you had plans.”
“I do.”
She sipped her wine.
“You know that I play the long game. We are moving forward and that is sufficient at the moment.”
She sighed and set the glass down. “You were always more patient than I.”
Henry smiled. “What is
it you want, girl?”
“To explore some of the other zones.”
He watched her for the space of a few heartbeats, then chuckled. “Do you know how to access them?”
“Not exactly.”
“You are asking my permission to make the attempt?”
She looked at him and smiled. “I am.”
Henry laughed and reached for her hand. “You make me nervous, my dear.”
“In what way?”
“Every time you ask me for permission, things get exciting.”
Desdemona lowered her eyes and smiled. “Is that a bad thing?”
Henry withdrew his hand, letting his fingertips linger with hers before fully parting. “No.” He sighed. “It usually turns out to be good. For us, at least.”
She stood and pushed her chair in. “May I take that as a, ‘permission granted’?”
He blinked and nodded. “You may.”
#38
“Everyone is online, Lore.” Ivan looked up from his monitor. “Let me know when to join in.”
Loredana looked at Shawn, who raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Okay, Ivan, click Enter and get over here.”
“Can’t I stay off camera?” Ivan moaned. “It’s so comfortable behind this bank of monitors.”
“Get over here.”
“Fine.” He tapped a key and joined them at the conference table.
The large screen on one wall showed a live countdown from ten seconds. When it reached zero, the feed kicked in and a main view appeared in the middle surrounded by many smaller screens. The main screen was supposed to show the office of the president, but Loredana frowned as she recognized the setting and the man standing front and centre.
“Glen?”
He smiled and raised two fingers to his temple in an informal salute. “Loredana.”
