by Anthea Sharp
“Tam—you made it.”
He could tell she wanted to reach for him—take his hand or give him a hug. He wanted it, too, with a yearning that twisted inside him. But here in the VirtuMax lobby, in front of the receptionist and who knew how many cameras? Bad idea. He forced himself not to lean towards her, lift his hand and touch the satiny skin of her cheek.
“Of course I’m here,” he said. “Didn’t you send George with the grav-car to pick me up?”
“Well, yeah.” She glanced down at the floor. “I thought, for this first time, maybe you wouldn’t mind.”
“It would have taken me about three times as long otherwise. So thanks.”
No buses ran up to the privileged compound of The View, and certainly not to the high-security headquarters beyond. VirtuMax didn’t want the town riffraff coming anywhere near their pristine, well-ordered little world.
“Who else is on the team?” he asked. She’d have inside information.
“Do you want the good news first, or the bad?”
“Bad—but don’t tell me. It’s Lassiter, isn’t it?”
She nodded, and he tasted the tang of bitterness on his tongue. Roy Lassiter was the son of VirtuMax’s CEO, and a decent sim player. He was also a prime ego-head, with a huge grudge against Tam and Jennet. A grudge that wasn’t entirely unwarranted, though it was Lassiter’s own fault things had gone the way they had.
Being on a team with him was going to be… interesting.
“The good news is that Zeg’s playing too.” Jennet raised her brows at him. “That is good, right?”
“Yeah.” He let out a breath. “That’s pretty prime.”
Zeg was old enough to be his dad—in fact, he was the uncle of Tam’s good friend Marny, and ran the best sim café in Crestview. He was a techie and a gamer of the highest order. The tension running through Tam went down a notch. It was a huge relief to know he wouldn’t be the only non-Viewer on the team.
“That’s Coranne Smith over there.” Jennet tipped her head toward the woman perched on the chair. “She’s an employee. They pulled her in from another unit for beta testing.”
So, the professional-looking woman was on the team after all. She didn’t seem very intimidating—but outside appearances could be deceiving. In-game, she might turn out to be a fearsome player.
“Anyone else on the team?” he asked.
“Yes.” Jennet hesitated. “Um—my dad.”
Tam swallowed back a curse of surprise. Of course. It made sense, in a crazy way. Jennet’s dad could keep an eye on them the whole time and make sure his daughter wasn’t being contaminated.
“I couldn’t believe it, when he sent that message he’d recommended me for the beta team,” Tam said. “I thought he hated me.”
“He doesn’t hate you.” Jennet let out a low sigh. “He just doesn’t think you’re good for me.”
“Yeah, spoilage from the Exe, trashing up his place. Sullying his daughter.”
Color bloomed in her cheeks, though she held his gaze. “One kiss is not ‘sullying.’ And you’re not spoilage, so stop it. He knows we make a great team. He can’t ignore that, even though he doesn’t quite believe Feyland is real. At least he understands we watch out for each other.”
“I’ve pulled you out of the fire a time or two,” Tam said.
And he’d go right on doing it—anything to keep her safe. It seemed her dad cared enough about her well-being to bend some of his own rules. Tam felt a grudging spark of respect for the man. At least they could agree on this one thing.
“And vice-versa.” She set one hand on her hip. “I’ve rescued you an equal number of times, Tam Linn. Not that I’m keeping track or anything.”
Damn, he wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her tight, despite the cameras and onlookers. She’d gotten him out of the most severe trouble he’d ever known. He could never repay her for that brilliant courage, though he tried.
He let out a silent breath. Seriously, he needed to keep his distance from Jennet, at least where people could see. No sense breaking the tenuous peace between him and her father.
“Six people on the beta team,” he said. “That seems sparse for a project this big.”
“Trust me, I’ve had to listen to Dad complain about it endlessly. If he were still project manager, he’d have run things differently, but Dr. Lassiter is pretty tight about stuff. People have to get clearance, and since the prototype FullD systems are only playable on-site—well, it’s not easy to find testers.”
Because Crestview was a nothing town in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t have to say it. Anyone with any talent got out as soon as they could. Although, since VirtuMax had moved in, that could change.
“I wish Marny liked to sim,” he said.
She was the most solid person he knew, physically as well as mentally. Too bad she was claustrophobic. It was an understatement to say she and sim equip didn’t get along. Donning the gloves and helm, sinking into the sim-chair—it was too much for her. The only time she’d ever simmed, she’d been under a magical persuasion that hadn’t ended well.
There was a commotion at the door, and he glanced over to see a group of people enter the lobby. A couple of them were obvious security-types, surrounding a young woman with bright magenta hair. Tam blinked, astonishment rooting his feet. Only one person in the world had hair like that. Superstar gamer Spark Jaxley.
“No way,” he breathed.
Jennet’s eyes were wide, too. They watched as the receptionist came out from behind the desk, practically bowing to the ground as she greeted the new arrival.
“Welcome to VirtuMax, Miss Jaxley. Such an honor. Please come this way. We have a private room where you can wait until the rest of the team is assembled.”
The gamer nodded, and her whole entourage turned and followed the secretary down the wide hall.
“She said team… do you think Spark Jaxley is going to be beta testing with us?” The question shivered through him, and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea.
“Dad mentioned something about the company trying to bring in big outside talent.” Jennet sounded unsure. “This is huge, though. I bet VirtuMax offered her a sponsorship for the FullD. After all, she represents their Slix system.”
“Right.”
Tam had seen the vids advertising the company’s top-end sim system. Spark Jaxley was featured prominently, her bright hair flying as she performed one amazing in-game feat after another. It would make sense to pull her in for the FullD launch, though it no doubt cost VirtuMax an astronomical sum. Enough to feed the whole city of Crestview for five years or something. His stomach hurt, thinking about what Spark was probably worth.
Half of him wanted to turn on his heel and stalk out of the VirtuMax compound, where the privileged air and knowing looks of the employees were making him sick. But he couldn’t do that to Jennet, or to her dad, who’d put himself on the line by recommending Tam.
The other half of him, though, was more than ready for the challenge. That part relished the idea of pitting himself against the best gamer in the world. And winning.
“Attention.” The amplified voice of the receptionist echoed sharply through the lobby. “All beta-testing team members please assemble to the right of the desk. You will be escorted to the game hub momentarily.”
“Roy’s not here,” Jennet said. She didn’t look too upset about it.
“Probably having gourmet coffee with his mom in the CEO’s office.” Tam looked out the glass-fronted doors as they walked by, scanning the empty walkway for a bear-like figure. “I hope Zeg makes it.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here in just a minute.” Jennet pressed her lips together in that worried way of hers.
“If they let him through the gates.”
He could just see it—Zeg in his battered old gas car, smoke pouring out the back, while the Viewer security guys tried to find some reason to turn him away.
“He’s got clearance,” Jennet said. “Dad t
old me everyone was good to go.”
“Then we’ll see him soon.”
Tam said the words firmly, like he believed them. Like saying them would make them real. He needed Zeg to show—needed some solidity from the world outside the compound’s walls, to keep him grounded. Remind him of what was true.
The air was sterile and cool in the VirtuMax halls, but heat flushed just under his skin. Tension tugged his breath. There was too much at stake, too many variables and secrets to navigate: Jennet and her dad, Lassiter’s enmity, the astounding fact of Spark Jaxley’s presence.
Not to mention a game that held layers of deadly magic.
CHAPTER TWO - THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM
Jennet hadn’t ever been so deep inside VirtuMax’s headquarters. As the receptionist led her, Tam, and Coranne Smith down the hall, she couldn’t help peeking into the rooms they passed. Mostly just people sitting in front of screens—until they got to the tech hub.
It was a huge round space, divided by partial walls that didn’t reach the high ceiling. Each section featured a different type of VirtuMax’s products—an array of Slix systems with five people geared up and playing, a bank of netscreens showing the games the company had developed over the years, and in the back, spotlit like star performers, the FullD sim-systems.
The receptionist marched up to a black-haired man standing in the middle of the hub. “Here are your subjects, Mr. Chon,” she said. “I’ve alerted Miss Jaxley, Mr. Carter, and Roy Lassiter to come down.”
“Thanks.” The man nodded his dismissal, then turned to face the newcomers, his expression unreadable. “As soon as the others join us, I’ll give you the intro speech. Meantime, sit tight.”
There weren’t any chairs. Jennet shot Tam a look, then turned, getting a feel for the place. The hum of running equipment underlaid the pings and occasional explosions coming from the games. It was like being in a sim café—except the gamers were oddly silent. No whoops of joy or exclamations of distress. When playing became a job, did it really take all the fun out of it? Or were the players just more self-conscious, gaming under scrutiny? She’d know soon enough.
Tam nudged her with his elbow, and she looked up to see Roy Lassiter coming toward them. His face was set in a scowl that didn’t do much for his already ordinary looks.
“Jennet Carter. Dragging your trash behind you, I see. You should have left the Exie back in the slums—where he belongs.”
“Shut it, Roy.” She felt Tam clench with anger beside her. “He’s a better gamer than you are, and you know it. Or did your forget that duel you guys fought?”
“Oh, I remember.” Roy’s mouth twisted, and he glared at Tam. “Just stay out of my way.”
“I plan on it.” Tam glared right back.
Jennet folded her arms. “If that’s the thanks we get for saving you, Roy, maybe we should have left you in the Bright King’s court after all.”
“Like I should thank you for ruining my life?”
She was opening her mouth to reply when Spark Jaxley walked into the room.
The hub suddenly buzzed with activity, as though the queen bee had arrived. Players and techs set aside what they were doing and came to cluster around the magenta-haired gamer, their voices full of praise and admiration. Her security guys stood back and let her shake hands and exchange words with her fans—which seemed to be all of VirtuMax.
“Miss Jaxley!” Mr. Chon waved for her attention. “Please join the briefing. Everyone else, get back to work.”
With a smile of regret that looked real, Spark Jaxley moved away from the throng of admirers and came to join the rest of the team. Two of her entourage followed.
“Sorry,” she said. Her voice was low and husky. “It won’t happen again.”
“I’d hope not.” Mr. Chon glanced at her security guys. “These gentlemen won’t be necessary. You do understand that the beta testing is under the utmost protection. They’re welcome to wait with the rest of your people, in the suite.”
Jennet raised her brows. Spark Jaxley got a suite. Of course. Probably she’d have a gourmet meal catered in for lunch, while the rest of them ate at the employee cafeteria.
Spark nodded, then exchanged a few low words with her men. They left, no doubt back to donuts and coffee.
“All right.” The black-haired man swept his gaze over them. “We’re missing—ah, there you are, Mr. Carter.”
“Ready when you are, Mr. Chon.”
Jennet’s dad came over to her. She noticed he didn’t look at Tam, standing on her other side. Awkward. She’d be simming with her dad and her off-limits boyfriend, inside a computer game that could kill them. Fun times.
“Now we just need Mr. Fanalua,” Mr. Chon said.
Zeg. Jennet rubbed at the burn scar on her left palm. Would he make it? For Tam’s sake, she hoped so. She glanced at Tam, noting the tightness of his shoulders, the wary look in his green eyes. Having Zeg here wouldn’t fix everything, but it would help.
Mr. Chon’s messager pinged. Frowning, he looked down at it, then let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Our final team member is on the way. I expect you all to be prompt in the future.”
“I was here in plenty of time,” Roy said. “It’s those townies—unreliable.”
“Hey.” Tam stepped forward.
Jennet set her hand on his arm, willing him to relax. If he rose to Roy’s baiting, they’d never get anywhere. Spark Jaxley watched the interchange, one bright eyebrow cocked. Clearly, she didn’t miss much.
On the other hand, Coranne Smith was staring off to the side, seemingly lost in her own thoughts and paying no attention to the undercurrents swirling between Tam, Jennet, and Roy.
The receptionist marched up to the group with a slightly breathless Zeg in her wake. She delivered him without a word, then turned on her heel and clacked back down the hall.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Zeg said.
He smiled, looking like a big bear, all beard and frizzy brown hair. His eyes were sharp, though—skimming over the assembled team and probably taking in way more than he’d ever let on.
Mr. Chon sniffed, then glanced at the glowing clock numerals prominently displayed on the wall above them. “I expect dedication, people. Dedication means you’re here on time. Now, we’re behind schedule, so listen up and hold any questions until the end.”
Zeg shrugged out of his jacket, and moved to stand beside Tam. Jennet could practically hear the anxiety humming through Tam ease off.
“Welcome to the tech hub,” the team leader continued. “I’m Lan Chon, and I’m in charge of this beta testing. Any problems or issues with the game or setup, let me know. We’re here to iron out the bugs. I understand some of you have experience playing earlier versions of Feyland.”
He paused, his gaze questioning—though surely he already knew who had been in-game before. This was just to inform the rest of the team.
“Yeah,” Roy said, crossing his arms.
Jennet and Tam simply nodded.
“Forget anything you think you know about the game. We’ve made a number of changes since…” Mr. Chon cleared his throat. “The content has been reconfigured.”
Jennet knew the words he’d just swallowed. Since Thomas Rimer, the lead developer, had died. In his sim chair. Playing Feyland. She shivered.
“VirtuMax is looking to launch the FullD system with Feyland in three weeks, so we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Coranne Smith shifted, and Roy muttered something under his breath.
Mr. Chon held up one hand. “Yes, it’s a tight deadline. That’s why we need you here every weekend and most afternoons. The company has some ground to make up, since the game’s… restructuring. Which is why we insist on punctuality.” He glanced at Zeg, who just looked complacently back at him.
Three weeks. Jennet bit her lip, hard. Despite what Mr. Chon said, she had the cold suspicion Feyland wasn’t that different. Maybe the game interface had changed but, deeper in, things were no doubt as magically
treacherous as ever.
Tam’s hand brushed against hers, like he knew what she was thinking. How could they keep VirtuMax from ever releasing Feyland?
Because once the game was out, the mortal world would never be the same.
Mr. Chon led them to the back of the hub. “This is the FullD area. Each of you has been assigned a sim system.”
He gestured to the row of premium sim chairs, the gleaming helmets, the gloves studded with LEDs. Behind her, she heard Zeg pull in an awed breath.
“There are tablets at each of the chairs,” their team leader continued. “At the end of every hour-long session, please take the time to note down any questions, concerns, or unusual events that might have occurred during that time.”
Unusual events? She glanced at Roy. Had he managed to convince his CEO mom that something was severely tweaked with this game?
“Please locate and stand beside the system marked with your name. Your tablets are pre-loaded with the information you’ve provided, so please, make sure you’re in the right place.”
The endless questionnaires from VirtuMax had asked everything: age, likes and dislikes, every scrap of gaming experience she’d ever had. The company was thorough, she’d give them that. But would they be conscientious enough to actually pull Feyland from production? Provided she and Tam could prove how dangerous the game was.
“Scuse me,” Roy said. “Can’t I just play at home, on my system there? I mean, won’t that be more like the average player’s experience?”
Mr. Chon frowned. “Feyland and the FullD are configured for multiplayer immersion. These systems have been tuned to perform together. So, no, you can’t go off and play at home.”
“But I have three systems networked. Couldn’t I take a couple others with me—one or two of the leet players?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Spark Jaxley, obviously trying to get in good with her.
“I’m aware you have equipment at home.” Mr. Chon’s voice was cool. “However, we need you to remain in a supervised and controlled environment. Whatever you choose to do in your spare time is your business, but if you want to be on the beta team, you play here.”
