Crafter's Passion

by Kris Schnee

  Stan looked into the Talisman's menu and said, "Why would Ludo put this on the gaming hardware?"

  It displayed, [This device has spare storage. A design decision was made to make one gigabyte into an easy-to-use knowledge archive and local Internet hub, for the benefit of Thousand Tales players.]

  Stan browsed the directory and whistled. In a remote part of the world one of these could be the Internet, containing free info on first aid, sanitation, farming, construction, and how to build improvised antennas and emergency power generators. The data storage itself wasn't impressive since you could put a much bigger version of the ARC on a keychain, with movies and stuff. Even the content on this version wasn't unique, except that there were some stories written by winners of a contest.

  Stan said, "You'd mentioned working to change a culture by teaching people. This all seems more active."

  He got the answer, [We provide tools and suggestions, and education where there's no working school system.]

  "Like the Communities, huh?"

  "Please rephrase."

  Stan blinked, and asked, "Who am I talking to?" He had been taking some miscellaneous lessons using audio mode, lately, but usually those were set up as part of his royal tutoring program. The voice this time was generic.

  The machine paused to think. Then a graphical window popped up and Ludo appeared. He said, "You'd been talking with the Tier-II AI built into this machine, which has little personality of its own. No soul, you could say. I'm overriding it right now because you're online. You can customize your 'local' AI to always act like your royal teacher if you want."

  "Does that mean the teacher is a real AI, when I'm in graphical mode?"

  Ludo said, "Him? He's also an NPC, Tier-II. Sometimes a smarter AI looks in and adjusts things. That's how a lot of my stage management works; it'd be unfair and expensive to make a human-level mind to run every little job. Earlier, you briefly spoke with one of the Tier-III servitors, the one that runs the Isles. She supervises a bunch of lesser AIs to do the little death comments and item descriptions and music."

  Stan said, "It, or she, sounded gothy. Like a part of the world was sad."

  "Yeah, well, she's part of me too."

  Beneath the gaming hardware was a tool for building or rebuilding civilization. Beneath the game itself was a network of favor trading and charity. There was a corporation trying to make money, and behind that was an AI trying to help people with chronically short resources while giving every single one of them the chance to feel special. Watching people die because there wasn't enough money to upload them all.

  "I think Ocean-of-Tears needs a hug."

  Ludo smiled. "Definitely, and she now knows you said that. It's nice to have people pull back the curtain and notice. Do you have other questions?"

  "Can I... Can I help? I haven't had any real-world quests lately."

  "You're getting into dangerous territory," said Ludo. "How about trying out your drone idea, and seeing how that goes? My AIs need experience. Meanwhile, I have something small for you."

  [Level 1 quest offered: A Word in the Right Ear. Ask Mina to meet Senator Graz, and tell him, 'Ludo wants to work with you.' Reward: 1 minor favor.]

  Stan raised one eyebrow. "You could just ask her."

  "She doesn't play regularly, and the senator doesn't either. Having a random human make contact ought to interest him."

  "Why, because you've got something to offer him?"

  "Mainly the fact that I can get humans to do my bidding. He loves the idea of bossing people around and controlling them for his own profit, see. Not a good man, but a useful one. I'm putting out feelers in a lot of directions at once."

  Drug dealers, politicians, sick kids, and random teenagers. "You have a lot of friends in strange places."

  Ludo said, "And that's what makes it all worthwhile."

  * * *

  Mina came to him after dinner. "I head out tomorrow for the DC trip!"

  "Congratulations. Have fun."

  She hugged him. "You ought to get started on school applications soon. Maybe something in the San Diego area? That's where I want to go."

  "I'll look at that, I promise." He told her about the quest.

  "That's a little disturbing. I feel like a spy."

  "That's probably half the point. Even if nothing comes of it you'll get to say you were an AI overlord's secret agent."

  She looked uneasy, but said, "All right. Hal wants me to say hi to some people, too, so I'll be doing missions for both."

  * * *

  The two little quadrotor drones he'd bought were gathering dust. On a day off, Stan took them out to the desert in the east. There really were opportunities here in the wasteland beyond Imperial Valley. He piggybacked off the Internet connection at the little ranger station and pulled out his Talisman. "I'm open for business," he said. "Have you got anyone in there who wants to try these?"

  To his surprise he got a view of a white high-tech room crowded with what looked like... "VR pods?"

  A gaggle of people were in there, looking at machines that were portals into what was, to them, another plane of reality. The people ranged in appearance from human to machine to animal and everything in between, and they wanted to visit his barren world for a little while. Stan said, "Has anyone got real money?"

  A man with feathered arms and a beak, much like the phoenix kid, stepped forward. "I'd pay a little, but I hear you don't have an account to transfer to."

  "Ouch, yeah." Ludo would chide him for not having planned that, especially after the lessons he'd taken in basic economics and business. "Can you give me some kind of credit on my Tales account?" He could at least cover his game subscription.

  Stan stood next to a borrowed bicycle in a desert, negotiating with what might be an AI or an immortal billionaire, and getting a decent price for selling a service the stranger actually wanted. Soon the bird-man and a seemingly ordinary human took control of the drones and sent them racing across the sand, swooping and turning to look at everything. He chugged water and watched. He should have brought a canopy or an umbrella. There was one he might borrow next time. For now he was just supervising and sweating, letting the Talisman beam out its signals for half an hour. A couple of different minds swapped control of the bots, and he had to rescue one of them that crashed. No real effort on his part.

  "Sorry, everyone, but I need to pack it in for today. I can't stand in the hot sun for long."

  "Are you taking fire damage?" said the seeming human who'd rented a bot.

  "Something like that. Thanks; I can come back another time when I have a day off."

  "How about at night?" asked the bird-man. "I'd like to see the stars out there."

  "I don't have permission to go out at night." When he said it that way it sounded ridiculous, but that was just how a curfew worked. Stan squinted up into the blazing sky. Technically, he could keep walking away from the Community all night and day, and there were two totally different kinds of consequences. One was the obvious risk of dropping from the heat or being killed by one of the roving gangs, and the other was the make-believe rule that he'd have his letter grade go down if he was standing in the wrong spot when a clock hit a certain number. He said, "Let me see what I can do, though."

  * * *

  That night in his dorm room, he pulled out the blue Thousand Tales t-shirt he'd been given during the playground event. He thought about that day and his later encounter with Volt the dragon and the kid who'd wanted to meet a farmer. "Inspect," he muttered. He looked at the Talisman propped up by his bed and said, "I haven't been wearing this around the Community."

  Ludo answered from his wooden throne room, "Wise move."

  Stan smiled. "Got any more quests for me?"

  "I've been waiting to see how you finish your current one in-game."

  "What? I've been really slow about it."

  "Not how quickly. How do you think, how do you solve problems. You're almost there."

  Stan said, "Am I d
oing a good job? Should I be focusing completely on one character? I mean, the Isles are letting me explore different skills, but princess world feels like how high school should have worked."

  "It's up to you. You don't seem motivated by beating your opponent there."

  "I don't care about her; I'm just trying to learn. I bet the princess isn't even real."

  "What makes you say that?" asked Ludo.

  "We've barely interacted, but when we first met, she started off with a showy entrance, practically shouting 'I am a jerk'. She threw me off later, but I see that now."

  Ludo laughed and applauded. "You saw through it! Yes, she's just an NPC. One of my teaching-focused component AIs is amused right now. That scenario is based on a learning technique called 'Model/Rival'."

  "Why don't you label the NPCs for what they are, anyway?"

  "Because eventually, I hope there won't be much difference between true AIs and humans."

  "How about the dumb NPCs, though? Not the real... Tier-IIIs I think they're called?"

  "Tell you what. Since you can usually identify the Tier-IIs and below anyhow, I'll give you the power to see characters' Mind category."

  [Quest offered by Ludo: Pierce the Veil. Learn any new crafting skill. Reward: Upgrade your Inspect skill.]

  "What can I do with that power?"

  "I don't know. It seems to interest you, though."

  Stan nodded and accepted the quest. "Is this what you want from me? To keep learning?"

  "It's really up to you."

  "Don't say that!" said Stan, looking down at the screen. That didn't seem right. He propped it up on his desk and sat on the bed, head lowered bashfully, wringing his hands. "You're doing good things for people, and you're not ordering me around, but you know people and how to help them. I want to help you. Please, tell me what I can do."

  Ludo paused, then said, "I see how it is. You're very much not alone in feeling this way. Here's a Level 1 thing, then: go visit Ms. Parker again and do something nice for her. Reward, nothing."

  It was something he'd probably have done anyway, but it was nice to know he was serving Ludo's interests in some tiny way. "Okay." Stan flopped down on the bed. "I'm too tired to play or work anymore tonight. Read me a story, please?"

  The screen went dark. "There was a radio astronomer who'd been studying a flickering pattern in the sky. One night she called her boss and said, 'It's like a cylindrical object, miles wide, and spinning. It's headed toward our solar system. I propose the name, Rama...'"

  * * *

  Stan played in the Endless Isles with Eddie, each of them from their own dorm room. His friend had done a quest in his educational steampunk world to unlock a second permanent character slot. They went through the basic Central Island quests and Stan set him up with a bronze-tipped spear and both of them with some wooden shields and leg guards. Together they built a quick, junky raft out of driftwood and reeds. Island West-1 was easy to reach.

  Before rowing there, Stan bought cloth. He'd been doing some nice little business upgrading people's weapons and armor and tools, so he had money. He made a good-quality flag with the linen and a well-made staff, then stared at the thing he'd created. Until now he'd been making the laziest possible flags to mark his progress, but now he had a proper one. Only... A white flag without some kind of symbol was just a surrender mark. "I should paint something on this," he said.

  "Your initials?" Eddie suggested.

  "Maybe." He could do, like, a dollar sign and a cent sign. Instead he picked up his Slab and searched for Thousand Tales logos. The results were as varied as the many incarnations of the title screen. The most common icon was just based on a pair of letter Ts, and there was a complicated silver braid, but there was also a wing motif that he kind of liked. Stan switched back to the game and used the workshop's basic black paint to draw it on the flag.

  They sailed to island West-1, a jagged rocky outcrop known for its plants. "If you want to get into alchemy," Stan said, "this is basically your starter area."

  They pulled the junky raft ashore, noting that its durability was already down to 52% despite Stan's craftsmanship and the easy trip. Junky materials. Eddie said, "You could crank out more of these for the newbies, since this one's good enough to take us back." There were stories of adventuring parties having to swim home.

  Stan said, "I'll try that." He stabbed his flag into the dirt and gained the power to save here.

  They explored the island. There wasn't much of a beach, just lots of slopes full of colorful mosses and flowers. Stan stuffed many varieties into his capacious backpack and a cloth sack he'd made along with the flag. He'd given Eddie a burlap one to get him started.

  While they were exploring a narrow ledge, tall grass rustled. Stan turned, drawing his hammer and shield, and saw a wolf with moss for fur stalking them. "Nice doggie?" he said. By reflex he called up an Inspect window and it said, [Mosswolf. Fears only fire.]

  It leaped at them. There wasn't room to dodge without falling, so Stan took the blow on his shield, staggering back into Eddie. "Get down!" Eddie shouted. Stan crouched defensively and Eddie stabbed over him with his spear. That did some damage, but the beast was snarling and snapping at Stan and he could barely defend.

  Stan tried to call up his magic interface while locked in a stalemate with the wolf. With only one hand available he couldn't do much, but he tried to target the grass at the monster's feet and make it grow. No good. The wolf's claws managed to swipe him across his free arm for a major wound. "Eddie, it's your show."

  "I'm trying." The spear kept stabbing overhead but only kept the wolf at bay.

  Stan said, "We're getting nowhere. On three, duck right against the cliff wall and stab like so." He counted. Then Eddie stabbed at a new angle. Stan angled his shield and charged, creating a bulldozer sloped to his left. He crashed into the wolf just as it dodged the spear, and it got deflected past him and over the grassy ledge. He watched it howl as it crashed a hundred feet onto the shore and died.

  "Nice," said Eddie.

  Up the slope they found a hovering save crystal, marking the entrance to a dungeon area: a valley full of valuable and often carnivorous plants. They saved, but Eddie said, "I think I want to come back with better equipment if one encounter along the way was that dangerous."

  "Fair enough. But we can also go partway in and leave again."

  They decided to do that. They were rewarded quickly with a patch of grass that Stan's skill identified as [Rupi Grass]. Or rather, the game told him the name and he recognized what it did from having browsed the wiki. It was good for making simple potions or rope if you could recognize which strands were worth pulling and which would make their neighbors disintegrate. Stan and Eddie puzzled over the patch for long enough to get menaced by a murderous crawling flower-snake, but that was a minor diversion after the wolf.

  They headed out after that and began the trip back to Central Isle. "That was fun," Eddie said. "I can leave the game running while you take us back, right?"

  "Yeah, sure. It's lecture night, isn't it?"

  Eddie nodded. "Don't be late. There's a guy from Sacramento coming to talk about the Four-Year Plan. The Baron says, formal clothes for this one." Eddie went idle and let Stan do the traveling.

  Stan rowed. He was on the open sea between islands now, with no random encounters in sight. He fiddled with the magic system and tried to make the raft's cords grow, repairing a little damage by melding the loose strands. The raft was down to 20% integrity, visibly starting to come loose, and his spell was only able to grow that by 3%.

  A window rose from the sea. [You earned another magic element! Make a selection: Wood, Water, Cloth, Wind, Plant, Push, Shape.]

  He had Growth, Create, and Metal so far. Time for another noun. He said, "How about Wind for sailing." A colorful magic breeze swirled around him and converged on his foot, creating a fourth shamanic mark.

  [Your first-level words are now full.]

  So now he should get sails, which m
eant cloth, so why not learn enough about that to be useful? Stan's raft disintegrated into a pile of splintered wood just offshore, so that Stan had to drag Eddie onto the beach where he flopped like a dead fish. "Hey, are you there?"

  Eddie the seafarer woke up as his player returned. "I was getting dressed up for the lecture. We've gotta go."

  "Okay, hurry up and save with me and we'll log out."

  * * *

  The national Four-Year Plan was going splendidly according to the man from Sacramento, who wore rancher clothes that had obviously never seen dirt. He praised the Community for its food productivity and high SCS ratings. Whenever someone asked a question, he had a way of diverting the answer into one of two canned answers about the president being a far-sighted genius, or America having a bright future of prosperity for all. The third time answer #2 came up, Stan laughed. Baron Hal blanched.

  A thundercloud seemed to pass across the visitor's face, but it was gone in an instant. He went right back into his presentation about how the Community system ought to be expanded, letting young people stay much longer to ensure they had productive and fulfilling work with all the comforts they needed. He singled out Hal as a good example.

  Stan had brought his Slab and had meant to read a guide to welding, suggested by his royal instructor. He got distracted by the speech, though, and sincerely paid attention. He tried to see past the web of ideas the man was weaving. If everything is so great, then why not freeze it this way? Tell all of us that we'll be serfs for five years or ten instead of two. Except that you can't say 'serfs'; you have to say Youth Community Volunteers. When the man praised the president with answer #1 again, Stan began to see he was setting up the fearless leader for a fourth term run in 2040.

  That didn't affect Stan's life, really, or almost anyone else's. The modern world was about doing your assigned work and keeping your head down. He'd never be part of the ruling Sacramento crowd, let alone Washington's, so he could only really accomplish anything by going outside the system.

  He had one other insight, coming to him like a text window. Diplomacy: He's describing this future like it's inevitable, and he's just making sure we expect it. Like it's not our place to decide on it. Tellingly, the speaker wasn't a politician, just the assistant head of some bureau who'd been there since 2025. He didn't need input from the likes of Stan.