Gamer 1 - Skotopia: A Gamelit novel for science fiction action fans
Page 5
There was a high probability that I would just be a tag-along in this next mission. With no skills, I would be the least qualified to do anything. I just hoped that I would at least get a weapon so I could contribute in some form.
Periodically, my mind wandered back to Memphis. When I told her that I had never had a girlfriend, she didn't seem surprised. If anything, she got a little friendlier. Knowing my lack of experience and awkwardness around girls, she could be as much of a deterrent as a help to me. When one of my friends fell in love with a schoolmate, he became practically useless. A nerd like me, his brain wasn't wired to accommodate both living a regular life and being in love. The way my heart beat faster, and my breathing sped up while with Memphis, I was quite sure I would be just as bad. Maybe even worse.
Yet still, I couldn't stop thinking about her. My brain, which always spoke with the voice of my father by the way, told me I was being silly. She's a helpful teammate looking out for the new guy. Being at a much lower rank than Rhese and Zaya, maybe she actually felt more comfortable with me. She sure looked like she was with the way she was behaving.
What if I did fall in love with her? And she felt the same way? We only got to see each other one or two hours a day. Plus, in the games. Would that even be the same thing? For me, it might actually be better, if I could manage to keep my mind off her during my solitude.
What if she wanted to kiss me? Oh, my stars, could you imagine. My heart raced just thinking about it. No wonder I couldn't sleep. We'd have to kiss each other in the social area. Philia confirmed that players were not supposed to enter each other's quarters.
"Did Memphis have a thing with Dashell?" I asked Philia at an extremely late hour. She said that she would always be available. And sure enough, she answered right away.
"What type of thing, Boone?"
"I mean like a romance. Was Dashell her boyfriend?"
"He social interchange with Dashell suggested that they were indeed friends," Philia answered.
Oh, crap.
"However, it was not to an excessive degree. She spent more time with the other females."
Oh, okay. "Did she have a boyfriend before she turned eighteen?"
"I do not have access to those records, Boone."
I had learned already that I could get more information from my room comp, which is what Memphis had called Philia. I just needed to word things differently. Or ask the right questions that would provide clues to the actual information that I was looking for.
"Do you recall every overhearing Memphis refer to a male that she had a romantic interest in before coming here?"
There was a long pause. I assumed that she was searching for the information. It was also possible that she decided not to answer for unknown reasons. I was considering rephrasing the question.
"Boone," Philia eventually said. "I believe that I have found a recorded segment of conversation that Memphis had with Zaya nearly a year ago. However, it would be an invasion of her privacy to play it for you."
"Can you at least tell me what she said?"
"Her words were exactly this: 'I liked him a lot, but to him I was just a friend. One day I kissed him on the cheek to see how he would react. He told me never to do it again. Then he started avoiding me."
Oh, my. That was way more private than what I had expected. Why was Philia able to repeat the specific words to me?
"Then she began crying," Philia told me. "Zaya hugged her for three minutes and twenty-two seconds..."
"Enough!" I yelled, hoping that I couldn't be heard through the walls. Worse yet, what if Memphis heard us talking about her?
I was suddenly embarrassed for Memphis. Not in a pity kind of way. More like I was sympathetic. I had thought that we were two vastly different kinds of people. This revelation, though a gross invasion of her privacy, made me feel a good bit closer to her.
I finally fell asleep after that, thinking about Memphis lying beside me in my bed. We were both fully clothed, mind you. And just talking. Not even kissing. In fact, I no longer wanted that kiss. At least not anytime soon. No, I wanted to be her friend the same way that she was trying to be mine.
Chapter Eight
I woke the next morning at Philia's gentle urging and fixed my breakfast. It was delicious and nutritious. The contents of my kitchen matched exactly with the meal program provided for me. I only had enough for two more days. Presumably, it would be restocked while I was away, in Skotopia.
I alternated between my physical workout and studying the guides that Memphis had recommended, Mech and Tech. My eagerness to learn blinded me to the time as it passed quickly. Philia had to remind me that it was nearly time for my first social hour with the rest of the team. I wasn't even close to being ready.
I dropped what I was doing, though just halfway through a simulated wagon repair, and gathered my food. I wouldn't show up at the table empty handed this time. While it was cooking, I jumped in the shower to get cleaned up. I had sweat caked to me from my vigorous exercise just an hour ago. It wouldn't do to have Memphis smelling me like that. I imagined that she would want to sit close with me again. I certainly hoped that she did.
The shower stall was a translucent box that provided a meager spray of water to rinse off soap, and a blow dry feature. I set the forced air to low due to the discomfort of the hot pressure again my skin. That just meant that I needed a towel to finish the job. And thankfully so. Philia alerted me that the door to my quarters was already open.
When I stepped out of the stall with the towel wrapped around my waist, I immediately glanced to the doorway leading to the team area. Sure enough, a girl was standing there with her hands against the frame, leaning in for a good look.
It was embarrassing, but also exciting to have Memphis come looking for me. It meant that she was anticipating our next conversation as much as me. Unfortunately, as my eyes adjusted to the brighter light behind her, it became clear that my visitor was Rhese instead. Her stronger shoulders and blonde hair were a give-away. As was the angry look on her face.
"You're late!" she shouted. At least she wasn't laughing at my near naked body.
"Uh... Sorry."
"I smell food," she said as she sniffed the air. "Grab it and meet me at the table. Now!"
"Okay," I responded. I didn't like the way that she was bossing me around. But I was determined to try and get on her good side. Following orders here was probably as important to obeying her in the game. When she pivoted to walk away, I said, "I'll be there right away."
"No!" she then said as she turned back with a shocked look on her face. "Put some clothes on first!"
How stupid did she think I was? Of course, I wouldn't walk into a public area filled with girls wearing only a bath towel. Had any teammate done that? Had Dashell?
I shook off the awkwardness of the conversation and rushed out the door with my bowl of food in my hands. Rhese was already at the table, but Memphis and Zaya were eating their meal while seated on the sofa. A center cushion section had converted to a table surface to hold their bowls.
"Hi, Boone," Memphis said with a heartwarming smile. Zaya only nodded at me. At least she didn't ignore me completely. Or call me rude again.
"Hi," the greeting squeaked out of my throat in a very unmanly way. It had been a few years since my voice fluctuated like that. I cleared my throat before speaking again.
"Sorry, I'm late," I told the team captain as I slid into the bench across from her. At least I had a good excuse. Spending time studying Mech skills was for the sake of the team. "I was..."
"Shut up," she said as she pushed a recessed button on the corner of the table. I hadn't noticed it on my brief previous visit. The surface of the dining platform converted to a screen that she had evidently prepared for this meeting. Either that or it was a file on me. My photo and name appeared at the edge.
"You are the hole in our roster," she said with seriousness more so than disgust. That was a slight improvement. I was determined to sit quietly and not
react poorly to anything that she had to say. "Zaya and I already carried the bulk of the load. Now we'll practically have to do everything. That is not fair to us, so you'll be seeing our frustration from time to time."
That was understandable. Was she setting up for an apology? Was she now sorry that she shot me in the game?
"You currently suck at everything and have no idea what you are doing," she told me. Not exactly the apology that I was hoping for. I steadied myself as she continued. "On some missions you will get tiny meaningless responsibilities. In others you will simply shoot the bad guys while we do all the work. In time, you may eventually be of use to me. Until then, you'll need to try to get better at the basic stuff. That's how you can earn some early skill points. Memphis is barely at the level that we can count on her. It will likely take you a year before you get there. I'm not giving you a hard time. I'm just explaining how it is."
I nodded acknowledgment but said nothing. To keep my anger at being belittled in check, I studied her face. Despite the snarling attitude, she was quite pretty. Wavy blonde hair. Emerald green eyes, and smooth clear skin. Pouty lips and a button nose. Her gaze drew me in and kept me focused. There was no way that I could divert my eyes.
"You got lucky and picked up an agility point in that first game," she said as she referred to my chart on the screen. "Oh, wait. You gained a mech point already, too. How did you do that?"
Her green crystal eyes stared at me again, waiting for a reply.
"Study guides," I mumbled.
"Yeah?" she answered. A slightly softer expression washed across her face. "Well, it just so happens that Mech is one of the areas where our team is weak. Keep studying that. Once you get three or four points, you'll be able to handle some of those challenges for us."
"Memphis also suggested that I study Tech."
"Did she?" Rhese replied as she looked over my shoulder at my new friend still seated on the couch.
"Tech is a skill that I have developed out there in the real world, so I should be able to help you there soon as well."
She stared at me with that royal gaze. It seemed like she was trying to think of something demeaning to say to put me back in my place. I braced myself for it mentally.
"Good," she finally said with a softer tone. "There is another category that we dropped in considerably when you replaced Dashell. Capacity."
"What does that mean?"
"Capacity is the ability to carry stuff. We try to take as much ammo and health into the game as we can, but each person can only hold so much. Later today we'll study our upcoming mission and make a weapons and supply list. You are the new beast of burden for this team. We will load you up with stuff that Zaya and I will want to help us successfully accomplish the mission. That will in turn increase your capacity skill, thereby helping the team. I know it seems like a crappy job."
"I'm happy to help where I can," I croaked out trying my best to sound sincere. There were old militia videos where battleship commanders treated their crew the way that Rhese talked to me. I focused on copying the respectful behavior of those beneath them.
"Good," she replied. Again, her rigid expression softened more. "We sometimes get to place caches in the game zone. Our team capacity has a big impact on that. It is hard to make the decision to leave weapons behind to include health packs for us. Each skill point that you gain in capacity will contribute to our ability to keep you alive a little longer."
"I see."
"Don't get me wrong," she clarified. "We won't be wasting any health on you anytime soon. But the longer the three of us experienced players survive, the longer you will too."
I took a deep breath to keep me calm. I didn't want to be the low-quality player that she was making me out to be. However, how many times was she planning on kicking me in the teeth? Was she simply trying to secure dominance, or turning me into a servant?
"Wow," she finally said after studying my reaction. "You are not a very proud person, are you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Dashell went all malfunctioning droid on me when I had this conversation with him. Even Memphis had some resistance. I know they don't teach you what Skotopia or the team experience is all about in advance. So, I try to set the tone early. Is there anything that you have to say to me?"
I started a reply in my mind several times before decided against each one. I needed to earn her respect if I had any chance at being a valuable member to this team. If I butted heads with her now, I could be instantly sent down to the poor conditions on Athlios. How could I show some pride without sounding disrespectful?
"I don't plan to be worthless to this team," I told her. "I will follow your orders and work my way up slowly if necessary. However, the way I see it, the longer I live in each mission the faster I can become valuable. Give me the chance to defend myself and I will do my best to serve your goals."
Rhese nodded at me as she leaked a tiny smile on the corner of her mouth. "Okay, Rook. We'll see how you do. But I'm telling you straight. Zaya has twenty-six agility points and twenty-three aim points. I have twenty-five wield points. That means close combat weapons. You won't be able to stand beside us in battle anytime soon. By demanding a weapon or an important task in our mission you will cause us to fail as a team. That will just make things harder on you."
She studied my reaction as I began to understand what she was saying. My one agility point looked pathetic in comparison to Zaya's twenty-six. The rest of the categories might not be as extreme, but there had to be a huge difference in all of them.
"You understand?" she asked, looking the most sympathetic that I had yet seen her. "It's not your fault, Boone. It's not any rookie's fault. But the fact of the matter is this. You are practically worthless to this team."
Chapter Nine
I had two options, I figured. Accept the facts as Rhese presented them or do everything in my power to change them. I didn't have to be worthless. Surely my fate was not entirely decided by my numbers. Will power, determination, and the skills that I developed before arriving here had to have some worth.
I had gone through life to this point doing what was expected of me for the most part. I excelled in certain topics in school but lacked a meaningful social presence. My game play in the arcade was highly competitive, but I doubted that had much impact on the rest of my life. At age eighteen I was chosen for the Skotopia program. The games. Roughly eighty percent of people my age were sent down below without a chance at redemption. I must have been doing something right.
I never considered myself a quitter. Despite a fear of many things in my path, I always gave it my best. I had trouble living with myself if I didn't. I learned that from both of my parents. They had gone through this same experience and graduated to be able to continue life on Kylos Magnus. They instilled the same assertive thinking in their children so they could follow suit. They didn’t want me sent to a lowly existence on Athlios any more than I did.
"Turn around," Zaya said to me when I approached the sofa. Her and Memphis had already finished their meal while I was in my meeting with Rhese. She was grinning at me for some reason. It was the most attention that I had received from the famous Skotopian since we had met.
"What?"
"Turn around," she demanded, still smiling.
I did as she said, slowly. I had a feeling that Zaya was completely different from Rhese. Less serious, but more competitive. She was our team's best player, after all. What kind of a game she was trying to play with me, I didn’t know. But I was in a mood for compliance after things had gone so well in the meeting with our team captain.
After making a full circle I waited for Zaya to clue me in on the joke. There had to be one. Last social hour I made great strides with Memphis. This one I was determined to improve my standing with the other two.
"Wow," Zaya said with a feigned surprise. "You still have both butt cheeks. I would have thought that Rhese would have chewed one of them right off already."
"Stop it, Zaya," Memphi
s said playfully. "Leave Boone be."
"You know," Zaya replied in a much more serious tone. "Our team has the best longevity record in the league over the last seven years."
"What does that mean?" I asked. I knew what longevity meant. But if she had a point to make with me, I wanted to hear it.
"It means we are due for some rookie failures," Zaya replied. "Last year sixty-seven newbies got dropped out of the program. Across all twenty teams, you understand. The Orange Dragons didn't have any. Memphis was our only rookie that year, and she barely made the cut."
That was an astounding number, but it made sense. A lot of teens went into the program. They couldn't all make it. What made my team so special? Leadership? I wouldn't think so. Zaya carrying the load and letting younger players grow without a lot of pressure? More likely.