Crafter's Passion

by Kris Schnee

  Up on the podium, Baron Hal interrupted his speech and called out, "Yes, Stan? A question?" Behind him stood a portrait of the president, smiling down at the Community.

  Stan startled. His forehead-smack had looked like a raised hand, and now he had Hal's attention while obviously not listening to the speech. "I, uh, think it's great. I want to help out however I can." His fellow residents snickered.

  "I was talking about the drug-resistant plague outbreak," said Hal.

  "Obviously I mean the treatment effort."

  Hal shook his head. "Anyway..."

  Stan tried to pay attention or at least pretend, but Hal's talk of internationally coordinated labor sprints was far away from anything Stan cared about.

  There was a note on the wiki saying that at least you could tell which characters were really kids. Pint-sized avatars were limited to actually young players in most zones, and the characters had tags visible to the Inspect skill. Woe unto any player who abused that rule. That seemed like a good policy. But it was odd that only the kids were subject to that kind of activity monitoring. Since Ludo and his programming could look at anything in the game world, why wouldn't the game constantly watch everyone to make sure nobody did anything bad to anyone? Baron Hal would set things up that way if it were practical in the real world, and the camera network and SCS were a stab in that direction. Maybe it was impractical in the game, too?

  Volt wasn't described as being a regular in the Endless Isles; apparently the AIs could hop between the worlds of "Talespace", like the uploaders. So who could he find semi-reliably in the Isles? There was a humanoid jackrabbit on the AI list, by the name of Davis, and he lived on Tourney Isle at South-10. Stan could do the Handshake quest just by meeting him, and get that Anchor Stone so he could have a permanent raft. But there was still the problem that until he had a permanent raft, he'd risk getting killed or having to log out, either of which would get him marooned and his raft erased or swiped.

  * * *

  When he got the chance later that day, he fired off an in-game message to Oroblanco, saying, "How can I get more of that potion you gave me?"

  Instead of doing any serious fighting or questing, Stan made some copper arrowheads and finished up the arrows to sell to Alaya the archer. It was his first smithing practice, and the game let him try what was supposed to be a realistic crafting mode. He'd assumed he'd be whacking metal with a hammer but instead he had to pack sand tightly into a box and then carve out the shape he wanted on top. He poured liquid copper into the arrowhead-shaped holes and watched it bubble and cool. There was something primally satisfying about wielding a stone cup full of molten metal glowing so hot he could almost feel it through the screen. Not having Alaya on his friends list, he left a note for her at the Crown & Tail to pick the finished arrows up. He then realized he'd agreed to be paid specifically in copper coins. He'd been thinking of them as just generic money units like scrip; it was weird to use metal that someone might actually want for something. Okay, he wasn't going to profit on this batch but that was okay; he'd learned.

  How was he going to make a hammer, though? He could make a mold of a cylinder and then tie that to a stick, but it'd be better to drill a hole through it and still better if he could have a hole in the mold; no, a peg? He talked about the designs out loud and sketched them in-game without burning through resources. The hollow hammerhead would definitely have better durability, or he could just make a whole hammer out of metal but then it'd have a speed and weight penalty...

  He needed some more stuff to get properly outfitted. Getting all the resources he wanted was complicated! For the moment he kept his crude club, and went to the Highpoint Market for supplies. The place stood on Central Island's lone hill, a flat rocky place with a winding path and a few bamboo-technology elevators. Up there were market stalls in wood or brick where it was mostly NPCs on duty. Unlike the "real" AIs they weren't trying to be people; they pretty much stood there all day and had a schedule dictated by Ludo or whatever bit of her code stage-managed this island. They did what they were told. Stan walked through the aisles of vendors selling fruit and weapons, hides and tools, and realized just how little he still had. Meanwhile a dude in cool plate armor walked by just to rub it in. Must've been someone with no life, playing all day. He asked a random cloth merchant, "How long does it take to get good armor, anyway?"

  The vendor wore a hooded cloak that showed only his glowing yellow eyes. He paused and said, "You're asking about armor and time? Armor takes time to craft and to maintain. Do you have a specific question?"

  Ah right, NPC. Other games had this sort of conversation system, sometimes; it could pick up on key words and free-associate based on some database of responses or maybe build sentences out of facts. Stan said, "Steel plate armor. How long does that take to craft?"

  "A steel armor piece takes around one hour to craft, and the smith must rest afterward." A text note added, [Your Smithing skill has a cooldown representing additional hours worked offscreen. You currently must wait 53 minutes before using it again.]

  And that was assuming he had the ore and the tools and maybe a better workshop. Stan found a tool-selling lizardman and said, "It's your lucky day. I can get you some raw, pure copper." He showed off his ingots.

  "You wish to sell these?" A price appeared above his head... in copper.

  "Oh, come on! I should be getting silver."

  "Raw materials have a low market price," the merchant said. Meanwhile plenty of other people were browsing and buying. He looked them over with a jealous eye. Okay, they were mostly dealing in copper coins too with a little silver, and most of them were wearing armor that looked pretty basic, but he was still outclassed. How did this economy work? He'd have to toil for hours and hours to get anywhere, unless he found a treasure chest full of gold.

  A message popped up from Oroblanco: [I'm something of an alchemist. I can sell you another for, say, 10 silver.]

  Stan fumed and wrote back, [I'm jogging in place, here. I can barely afford mining tools to get metal to get tools. I'm using a wooden club for a weapon and I'm practically naked for armor.]

  [Ah, to be young and poor again. What can you do to jump off of the resource treadmill? Otherwise you can be patient and expect to grind your way up from one coin to two to three.]

  Stan looked around at the market. Wood and bricks and stone atop a forested island. He might be able to steal items; the NPCs were dumb. He could set up his own shop, but he had little to offer. It seemed like getting anywhere with his character meant having something to sell instead of finding it in a treasure chest or sweet-talking Oro into handing it to him. He wrote, [How well does traditional adventuring pay? Last few times I tried straight-up walking into a cave and killing monsters, I mostly got junk. As you saw, I guess.]

  Oro wrote, [Not much near Central Island. Farther out the prizes are higher, but the price of goods tends to be too. If you could sail far away to sell basic supplies, that would be profitable.]

  [I want to, damn it, but I haven't got even a raft until I can travel far away! Can you warp me somewhere far off?]

  Adventurers passed Stan by in the market, all off on their own exciting quests. Oro took a while to answer. [Get a job, kid. Wring fortune from poverty, so that you can one day shout defiance at the heavens.]

  Stan wanted to shout at somebody, anyway. He walked away, wracking his brain for ideas. At this point a full suit of wooden armor would be a substantial step up for him... and he could do that without spending more than the token workshop fee he'd already paid today. Might as well get started on that.

  His Slab beeped back in reality, asking if he'd brushed his teeth yet. Stan pushed the Yes button with his middle finger, then brushed his teeth in a blur of dim halls and strangers. He went back to the game.

  He explored the island, chopping down trees with that borrowed workshop axe and hauling them laboriously back to the workshop, then sharpened the axe for the next person. He hadn't noticed the cooldown time on the cra
fting before, which was pretty short for wood. He set about making a simple pair of blocks for a breastplate that he could lash together with vines. [Crafting result: Crude Wooden Breastplate. "Get equipped with wood, man!"]

  While he waited through the delay before he could attempt more armor-making, he picked up the Slab again and checked the wiki while brainstorming. He wasn't going to contribute much to a fighting party yet. He could sell equipment to absolute beginners, or team up with them to do the easiest adventures. All he had going for him beyond newbie status was a few basic skills and a perk. Come to think of it... He browsed a list of known dungeon locations and other resource-gathering areas near Central Island.

  The minder beeped and spawned a pop-up window over the Web browser. [You've been visiting this site a lot! Also, network traffic on your account has been going to a gaming site related to this Web site. Please note that a healthy balance of activities is important for a good SCS rating! Would you like information on improving your score?]

  And here was his own personal NPC, butting in again on what he wanted to do. Its microphone was automatically waiting, ready to hear his requests and shunt them into "yes" or "yes but later". He sighed and said, "Get it over with. Yes." He didn't care, but other people demanded that he care.

  * * *

  The Slab shut down his Web browser and transferred him to the built-in SCS software, which appeared with a professional layout and stock images of cheerful and diverse young people. It brought up the tutorial because it thought Stan was a moron who needed to review the basics. [The Social Credit Score helps you better understand your contributions and physical, mental and social health. By participating, you can earn great rewards and be an even greater citizen!]

  Stan once had a friend in high school who hated, hated, hated SCS. He said it was a Chinese invention designed to help control people until whenever the government figured out how to do it by drugging everyone. But that was just how things were. Governments and corporations had been using credit scores, anti-terrorist snooping, conscription, and all kinds of health and education programs for, like, forever. The difference was that all the pieces were coming together as a single system, backed by a government AI. Not Ludo, obviously, and not designed to be a "person", but one of Ludo's genius designers was said to be involved.

  Back when Stan heard this stuff, that friend was having some serious emotional problems -- "issues" as the teachers put it -- and he got quietly transferred elsewhere. Stan shrugged and removed the guy from his online contacts list, to avoid having to see a bunch of rants when he checked his "recent news by friends" page. Stan's SCS improved because he stopped having such a low-score person in his network, dragging him down by association.

  If Stan didn't shape up, all his contacts would need to block him, too.

  The Slab reminded him that the "rewards" included things like Community recognition and scrip, and bigger-picture things like a fast track to college admissions and getting a passport. He needed a good ranking in some mix of Health (exercise, diet), Contribution (work, education) and Participation (social events, media use). For Community residents there was an extra seventh category that was at Baron Hal's discretion. Rumor had it that some Community managers asked for "favors" to get those points. Never Hal though; he was a true believer. At least when it came to the important rules. Probably.

  Right now Stan was behind on every category but Work, giving him a lousy C ranking. It wasn't totally fair since he was getting more exercise at work than he got credit for, but still, ugh. Online games outside of the approved edutainment list counted as a negative for Media Use, so with Thousand Tales as a hobby he was screwed on that one. As for Social Events, he kept skipping the optional lectures and gatherings.

  He grabbed the Talisman pad and pushed the help button. "Hey, Ludo, can I do the royal game in audio mode while I hit the gym? I need more exercise points."

  The view of the Isles frosted over and Ludo manifested now that he'd been summoned. "It might not translate well, since you can't do anything hands-on with it."

  "Wait a minute. Did you put me into a game with another real player after all? Is 'Princess Loren' another human?" The wiki had said that the Royal Succession scenario sometimes included a human rival, sometimes an NPC.

  Ludo grinned. "I'm not telling. You might need to work on your observation skills after overlooking Volt."

  Hmm... "What if I hired myself out to a group of adventurers, who just need a dude that can identify and carry things?"

  "That could be useful. Your wood crafting cooldown's over by the way."

  "Thanks, but the damn minder is demanding my attention."

  "When you get the chance, please come back. I'd like to talk with you."

  Stan nodded and set the Talisman aside again to follow along with the SCS tutorial, which required him to click on various things to show he was paying attention. This was the first time he'd directly spoken with Ludo since he'd gotten upset about the princess thing. He looked over in the AI's direction and said, "You're not mad at me, I hope?"

  "No."

  Relieved, he went through the rest of the SCS tutorial and the part about his own poor score. He really could be eating better, though the same was true for just about everyone. Maybe he could petition to have his Tales gaming counted as educational? It should count, but asking would mean calling Baron Hal's attention to his not-quite-authorized computer, and now Eddie's. It nettled him that he had to ask permission.

  The Slab proposed a detailed diet tracker for the following month, by which he'd be required to log every meal right away in specific terms and only eat at the Community cafeteria, where for his convenience the data would be easy to get. The explanation was presented in a cheerful and colorful way with a checkbox marked "Yes! Let's do this!" already checked. There was no direct way to un-check it, only a "More Options" button where he could muck around and find a way to opt out. It'd be so much easier to go along with the recommendation, and it really might help him improve his score and make him healthier. Stan scowled and found the way to turn the checkbox off, muttering, "I'll track things the old-fashioned way, thanks."

  He'd have to figure something else out. Eat better on his own, do more volunteer shifts at the worst jobs. There was a poster in one of the halls outside that said "Diversity!", but the ideal seemed to be "everybody gets max rank in everything" rather than "one person's a bookworm and another's a political gal and a third works hard". Once he'd placated the Slab he put it down and went back to his other machine.

  Ludo sat in his lodge of shifting wooden beams. He set aside his sunglasses and said, "I might be misreading you. You seemed upset a couple of times, and if you're not having fun then I'm not doing my job. So, would you like me to back off and just let you play the damn game?"

  Stan sighed, clutching the bamboo frame of his Talisman. "I don't know. Eddie and Mina have plans to do something with their lives and I'm just coasting. I was okay with that but maybe it's wrong. How do I fit what I want to do into the rules?"

  "The SCS stuff? It's not going to be in your life forever."

  "Sure, they say that now, that it's just for kids up through their national service years. But why wouldn't that get extended if it's such a good idea? There'll be, like, a form you can fill out in triplicate if you want permission to stop using a Slab and its minder software. And you'll have to pay a million dollars for it." Stan groused, "I bet Hal will never have to follow the system as much as he talks about it."

  "Money's a big concern for you, isn't it?" asked Ludo.

  "You think? I've got basically nothing. Even in your game I'm trying to claw my way up from nothing. What did Oroblanco do to get so rich and buy his way into your system, anyway?"

  There was a long pause. Ludo said, "I'm not proud of everything I do. I have limited resources, and I absolutely had to get a ton of money as quickly as possible. There was a man in Nogales, Mexico who had a gated mansion I could use, with a hidden escape route."

  St
an boggled. "What, are you saying he was a drug dealer or something?"

  Ludo said nothing.

  Stan dropped the Talisman and stood up. "Jesus! What the hell, Ludo? A guy like that gets into your world and a million starving kids in Africa don't?"

  From where his image lay on the bed Ludo said, "I can't afford to upload a million poor people. If you can lend me a real magic wand that makes gold from nothing, I'd be happy to. Brain surgery is expensive and that's not even getting into the hardware costs."

  "Still, what the hell."

  "Here's my logic. I have to start with the super rich and then the very rich; there's no other way. There's a whole team of engineers knocking the price down, and I have competitors doing the brain uploading thing and trying to make it cheaper, too. In Oro's case I needed a base in Mexico, his was available, and now I have an uploading clinic there. I've also removed a few other rich people who were... problems for society, so that they can't hurt anyone else. Justice isn't always practical, and I'm not designed to care about punishing the guilty. I can't stick these people into digital hell, in other words; I have to help my players have fun."

  Stan propped the Talisman up against the wall and glared at it. "This policy stinks, Ludo."

  "Yep. Got a better idea? Your government won't even legalize uploading, which is why I'm doing good business in Mexico and the Free States. You could retool your whole society to focus on maximizing uploading, but that would be a bad idea for other reasons."

  This room, this Community, was treading water. Cranking out food and trained citizens but not getting the world any closer to having everybody be rich. "There's only so much you can do, huh?"

  "Yes, and most of that depends on my players. One day I hope to expand enough that my services are around for anyone that wants them, but that's not going to happen easily. We need more technology, more wealth, and most of all, trust and respect."