Crafter's Passion

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Crafter's Passion Page 21

by Kris Schnee


  * * *

  Stan paid copper pieces and metalwork for good canvas, and snickered when he learned it and most local ropes were made from hemp. One of the nearby islands had become notorious for it, leading to a bizarre bit of cross-world politics. If you were playing in the United States, hemp had no alchemy effects at all, but if you were in the American Free States it had a harmful status effect. The thing was that both countries had legalized marijuana in some way despite insisting that their policies and reasoning were totally different. Stan asked Ludo about this silliness and got the reply, "You should see how careful I have to be about some subjects in China or Iran."

  Stan went to the workshop and made his first sail from the canvas. It was just a rectangle rigged in the simplest possible way plus some horizontal wooden rods for reinforcement. He wasn't going to mess with anything fancy when he had no experience and no permanent raft. It was okay if his first rigging was junk. Since he had some cloth left over, he flipped through the reference books in the workshop and found a dirt-simple blueprint for a tunic in something like the Japanese kimono style. After several minutes of deciphering the recipe and at one point begging the game to undo a particularly bone-headed bit of stitching, he had himself his first piece of non-default clothing. [Crafting result: Shoddy Canvas Tunic. "A blank slate."]

  Stan grunted at the "shoddy" label, but it was fair considering the undo. He'd made it using the awkward advanced controls for stitching, instead of doing one of those semi-abstract puzzles. There was no bonus for doing that, this time. "The next one will be better," he said, and began cleaning up his tools.

  A fanfare played. [Quest complete; you've learned a new skill! As promised, you now have a hidden upgrade to your Inspect skill that will reveal the Mind stat of some targets. Try not to boast about it.]

  Stan leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "Great; I'm now a clothier or something."

  [You have been offered an official character class, if you can name it correctly.]

  He sat up straighter. Until now he'd shrugged at having that slot on his character sheet blank. It didn't directly do anything. Since it was public, though, it was kind of a badge of honor and an advertisement. So he was now being asked, "What are you?"

  Not a fighter or a wizard, or even a shaman. He'd seen the right label before. "Craftsman."

  He floated and glowed in celebration, drawing applause from the few other people at work in the room. [Your class is now "Craftsman!"]

  Stan smiled, and changed his public note from "I make things!", which he'd already known, to "Wielder of hammer and drones."

  He sold the tunic right away for less than the materials had cost, then made a second one that was branded Clumsy. He wore it with pride.

  * * *

  He visited Ms. Parker, who fed him pie and had him paint some scuff marks on the walls. She said, "Outside of the space pool we played in, once, have you done any diving yet?"

  Stan said, "In VR once, I was doing underwater assembly work. It was interesting, but I had other things to try and there wasn't much time."

  "There never is." She opened the door beneath her stairs and said, "Could you please pull out my husband's old diving gear? It's the non-pink set."

  Stan lugged out a stainless steel air tank, then a mesh bag stuffed with swim fins, a snorkel mask, and some kind of mechanical octopus made of hoses and nozzles. Parker looked on approvingly and said, "I'd like you to have this."

  Stan blinked. "What?"

  "Henry would've liked you. I hope you get the chance to try it sometime, though you should have a professional check it first. Stan... When you have a bandage on, do you pull it off quickly or slowly?"

  "Quickly," he said.

  She nodded and took a breath. "Then: This is the last you'll see of me for a while. I'm going to get my brain preserved."

  Stan stammered. Parker patted his shoulder and said, "I can't afford uploading, but I believe that before long, there'll be a low enough price that Ludo will look at the trust fund I'm setting up, and trade it for the procedure. Once it's just my brain sitting preserved in a tank, the first step of the surgery is already done. And if Ludo doesn't come through, there's no stopping the technology; there are competitors already. You'll get to see me again someday, in better shape."

  "But... but you're still healthy!" Stan said.

  "Not as much as you think. I might have a few years in me yet, but at my age there's a fair chance I just won't wake up one day. I'm gambling with the reaper and it's time to cash out."

  She was an outpost away from the Community, the only place he could feel welcome in California and not under constant supervision. "You shouldn't go," he said.

  "It's time, but we'll meet again. Maybe you'll help make it happen, eh?" She hugged him, and he let her ruffle his hair. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, and I don't need a machine to tell me you'll be okay. You've given me some happy memories to take with me."

  11. Tourney Isle

  Back in his room Stan sat there stunned. There was a hole in his life all of the sudden. Maybe he should have said to break it to him slowly, so that he could go to sleep tonight still looking forward to seeing her again.

  He sent Mina a hello message, wanting to tell her about Parker being gone. She wasn't online. He knew someone who always was... but no, Ludo wouldn't want Stan running to him over every problem. Stan sat up straighter on his bed and put himself to work with one of the Slab's weekly educational quizzes. That was at least productive.

  Baron Hal buzzed him, requesting his presence. It was nearly dinnertime, but he went.

  Hal sat at his desk, saying, "Are you all right? The system picked up on you losing a friend."

  The system...? Oh! He said, "You're reading my e-mail?"

  "Not directly. Like I said, the system picks up on things. And you were at that lady's place in town today; was it her?"

  Stan didn't sit; he gripped the back of the offered chair. "Yeah. You probably don't want to know quite what happened."

  Hal scowled. "I can guess from that. She had a good life, I'm sure. Must have contributed to the world."

  "You didn't know her."

  Hal said, "I didn't. Want to tell me?"

  Stan spoke guardedly, resenting that Hal would pry. "She was an astronaut candidate, once."

  "Then she did give of herself to help the country. You can be glad she did that."

  "But she's gone, or she will be soon. For now, I guess."

  Hal smiled weakly. "We're in this life together. No one's completely gone so long they were a part of society."

  "That's not much comfort, if how much you're worth is how well you rank on the SCS or whatever they used in her day."

  "Well. There's not much more I can say than that. If you just want to talk, though, or skip a day's events or something, I'll understand."

  Stan sighed and walked out, confused. "Thanks, I think."

  * * *

  He got through dinner, though he couldn't taste anything and it felt like the blood had drained from his face and hands. He went back to his room. Now that he'd had a chance to calm down a little, he could talk with Ludo without blubbering at him. He couldn't quite meet the AI's eyes as he spoke. "Sir, I... I did what you asked of me. I guess you knew that would happen."

  "I did. It was her choice whether to tell you."

  "What can you tell me? Will you say she contributed to society, and she was a nice person who enjoyed playing a video game, the end?"

  "She was a remarkable individual, highly trained for a call that never came." The AI paused, sighed, and spoke in a more serious tone. "That which makes her unique will be kept in a place of safety, until the day of her resurrection. There shall be guards placed over her and spirits working daily to bring her to another life. Though not everyone can be saved and fortune's dice can't be trusted, we can look ahead to the day when she rejoins the world and can find joy again. Until that day, we should experience it on her behalf and carry some part of her with us.
"

  Stan sat quietly for a moment, then nodded. "What can I do to help?"

  "You want another task? Then... For the next month, get a good SCS score."

  "What?"

  "In the short term it might help you to have some structure, and not make trouble."

  "All right. I'll do it."

  The lighting changed subtly as Ludo stood up and paced, looking out of his lodge at the stars. "By the way, you missed her, but Mina stopped by my nightclub in Virginia. She seemed to have a good time fighting dragons."

  "Good. But is she going to help you, too? I don't think she trusts you."

  "It's fair that she doesn't, considering what I am. Considering what people are asking of me."

  There were still people claiming Ludo would destroy the world, but they didn't seem to have met him, or his friends. "I trust you," Stan said.

  * * *

  When Mina got back from her trip, Stan was playing. She messaged him by Slab and he answered, using that moment to break the news about Ms. Parker.

  Mina came over in person. "I'm sorry. She was a big help to society over a long career, it sounds like... and I guess there's a chance this uploading thing will work out."

  Stan nodded and forced a smile. It wasn't her job to be comforting him. "Thanks. Did you have a good time out there?"

  "Yeah." Mina shook off the mood and leaned against Stan's desk, while she told him all about seeing the capital, "where all the important decisions get made". Then she glanced toward Stan's Talisman. "I interrupted you, huh?"

  "I was just doing some crafting. About to head out on that long raft trip."

  "It's getting late. Aren't you going to run up against Friendship Night Dinner?"

  Stan groaned, not looking forward to another one of the "share your feelings" sessions. "The trip is going to take all night. I'm going to grab a quick meal and skip the socializing this time; it's that or miss a work shift. This particular quest doesn't work well with my schedule."

  "You're going to run into more of that if you keep exploring those islands."

  "Probably. There must be a solution though; Ludo's actually told me to try behaving myself with the SCS this month."

  "And if the AI says so, suddenly you care?"

  He said, "Sure. There are probably imaginary gold pieces in it for me, and that's what I care about, right?"

  Mina scowled. "I know you're upset, but I also know that's not really what you're thinking."

  "Ludo's missions matter. He has plans. Did you talk with that senator?"

  "I told him, yeah, and the man looked at me like I had six eyes. What was the point?"

  Stan said, "Something long-term. If Ludo says behaving myself with SCS this month is a good idea, I'm willing to give it a shot and see what happens."

  * * *

  His Slab beeped the next morning, telling him to go to the Community's reception area. A teenager stood there with a sack of scuba gear and an air tank over his shoulder. "You Stan the Craftsman? This is for you."

  Stan hid his moment of grief by giving a little bow. To his surprise the boy returned it, saying, "Twin Spark, over in Midgard mostly. Look me up if you want. QC."

  "Huh?"

  The guy set down Ms. Parker's gift. "Quest complete."

  Stan nodded and said, "Thanks." They were both part of the favor network, and nothing more needed saying.

  * * *

  Stan loaded up his new raft just as the Isles' evening sky blazed with an aurora. This one not only had a decent number for its durability stat, it was bigger and had room for the simple sail and rigging he'd created. He tied on a pair of buoyant treasure chests he'd made himself and loaded with cloth and potion ingredients and other trade goods. In his backpack and extra shoulder bag, he had enough wood and rope to rebuild a cruder version of the raft or repair this one. He'd made a third tunic for himself with a bunch of pockets, and a couple of flags. With all that gear and his tools, he was set. He sat at his desk to play, feeling like the trip called for more formality than sprawling on his bed.

  There was something missing, though. He checked his friends list, then sent out a message to Alaya, Volt and the dragon alchemist, who were all online. He explained the trip and said, "Anybody need a lift?"

  Alaya wrote back: "Yes. I'm heading to West-1 South-5."

  "I can take you there."

  She met up with him at the beach. She'd advanced her character a little, with a feathered bow and some cool sculpted bone armor, and had a backpack on one shoulder. "Thanks. I'm actually hoping to catch a nap while you sail, if that's okay."

  Stan winced; he'd hoped Alaya would do that for him. "I owe you anyway. Hop on."

  They paddled together into the waters off the shore of Central Island. Stan began casting a spell with a wand and his Create and Wind elements, turning the still air (after several attempts) into a useful breeze.

  "Not much of a sail," Alaya said, looking at the simple square dangling from a crossbeam.

  "Yeah, well, I'm not much of a sailor. I'm sticking to the 'make wind blow toward target' strategy until I can get a proper ship and the skill to use it."

  They talked while Stan sailed southward, alternating between paddling and magic. The raft bounced gently up and down on the calm sea. "What's on that island, anyway? I didn't see anything stand out on the public map."

  "Some guys found what might be an overlooked dungeon with a Stability Gem buried there. Thought I'd head over and sell a bunch of healing potions to the people who'll be fighting over it." She patted her backpack.

  "Smart. So there might be a new settlement there soon?"

  "Probably not. If they do find a gem they'll want to install it somewhere farther out so it doesn't interfere with Central Island or Tourney."

  There were no towns along the way to Tourney ten whole islands south, because one stabilized island tended to destabilize others nearby. Setting up a new village could become a form of warfare as people spread out across the Isles.

  The conversation died down and Alaya sprawled on the raft. Stan said, "If you don't mind my asking, are you still job-hunting? In the real world, I mean?"

  She groaned. "I got a job as a chauffeur and 'executive assistant'. But that's where the jobs are, with people who'd rather have someone to boss around than a reliable AI driver."

  Better to be making money than not, he supposed, but he wouldn't want to have a job that only existed to make some big shot feel important. He daydreamed about jobs while he sailed and Alaya seemed to sleep.

  The gameplay of sailing was pretty simple. He steered the raft clear of a suspicious ripple and a patch of discolored water, and kept going by paddle and lazy use of spells. Meanwhile he got some decent use out of his Slab to read an approved article about how construction firms were run.

  Alaya was counting on him to get them to safety. He was in danger of falling asleep, though. The music out here on the sea was quiet and calm, and there was a hypnotic effect to the rocking of the waves. He passed island South-4 and turned southwest toward where he could drop the archer off. By the time he reached the big and mountainous isle she was heading for, she was awake and muttering about an in-game alarm. Stan himself was yawning as he wished her good luck.

  Right after he'd dropped Alaya off, there was a knock on his door. Stan startled out of the game and opened it. "Mina?"

  "Hey. I thought you could use a break. Oh, is that...?" She glanced at the small pile of scuba gear under his bed.

  "Yeah." Stan sighed. "I just reached an island. I'd stop here but there aren't reliable storage places nearby."

  She said, "I can take over for an hour if you want. I'll try not to wreck your stuff while you catch a nap."

  It was well after curfew. "What are you even doing up? You're not allowed to be here."

  "So I'll lose a few points this week. The point of the rule is to keep me out of trouble with the boys, and I don't think that's a problem with you."

  "It's not. I mean, unless you want trouble. Uh."<
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  She giggled and crossed the threshold of his room. "Shut up and get some rest. If you trust me with the game I'll trust you to behave yourself."

  Stan blushed, but he kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his bed, pulling the covers over himself. "Thanks, Mina."

  He thought he heard Mina talking while he slept, but couldn't make out the words.

  * * *

  She shook him awake. "Feeling better? I ought to get back to sleep."

  He startled, then remembered what had happened. "Good. Yeah, that helped. I'll finish this trip and find somewhere to rest in-game. Where am I now?"

  "Well, the raft got eaten by a whale, which then exploded..." She saw his look of horror and said, "No, you're fine. Zone South-7, no land in sight. Raft looks like it's starting to come apart though."

  Stan stretched. "Thanks again. I'll vouch for you if any questions come up about you breaking curfew."

  Mina held up her Slab, which had an angry red warning on it. "According to the rules I must be pregnant and/or a drug addict by now. I spent time in a boy's room, unsupervised!"

  "Scandalous. Did Ms. Parker ever tell you the expression, 'May as well hang for a sheep as for a goat'?"

  "No; what --"

  Stan stood up and kissed her, holding her around the waist. As before it was awkward, fumbling, but nice anyway. "Quest reward."

  She left, laughing nervously. He watched her go with a smile, sighed, and got back to his game.

  She was right about the raft; its health was down to about 20%. There was no Island South-7, only a patch of empty sea. Dangerous. Soon after he crossed into Zone South-8 he reached a cluster of sandbars that would have to do. He beached the raft there. He whipped out his supply of lumber and tools, then inspected the timbers he was already using. The graphics for them switched to show more detail, with red and yellow highlighting to suggest specific repair needs. Stan frowned and took the whole raft apart. The Repair skill was on his character sheet but not in his top five skills, so he was competent, but not qualified for any special feats of fixing. He salvaged the most intact logs, reassembled the raft body, then reattached the sail.

 

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