World War VR

by Michael Ryan

  The commander used chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. “Don’t worry, soldier. The medical professionals know what they’re doing.”

  “But, sir–”

  “Excellent orange chicken,” he said, bringing the chopsticks to his mouth. “Wouldn’t you say, Corporal Brown?”

  The following week was family visitation week.

  The EUDA headquarters’ command officers arranged a fabulous program featuring many hours of videos showing how wonderful it was to be part of such an essential voluntary program.

  During the scheduled awards program, the base commander spoke. “Thank you,” he told the families. “The world is a safer place due to the service and sacrifice of your young men and women here today, who’ve passed all the required requirements that we require.”

  He paused for a moment, then whispered behind the podium, “Take whoever wrote this speech out back and beat him.” Apparently, he’d not realized that his mic was still live.

  He turned back to the crowd and smiled. “That is all.”

  Private Smith joined Dale and the other Browns after the award ceremony.

  “You boys look so handsome in your uniforms,” Mrs. Brown said.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brown,” Smith said.

  “Call me Rhonda,” she said.

  “He’s been trained to be polite, honey,” Earl Brown explained.

  “I know,” she said. “Samuel, I wish your parents could’ve been here.”

  “Your name is Samuel?” Dale asked with a grin.

  “Smith to you,” Smith said. “Smith, period. It’s okay, Mrs. Brown, if you call me Samuel.”

  Dale touched the ribbons newly pinned to his uniform and wondered if this whole thing wasn’t being oversold.

  “Come on, boys,” Earl said. “Let’s go for ice cream. I’m sure once you ship out on assignment, you’ll be missing everyday luxuries.”

  “I want chocolate,” Dale’s little brother said. “Two scoops.”

  The following Monday morning, after medical evaluations, several painful injections with ominous hypodermic needles, and a stern lecture about refraining from sexual harassment, Dale and Smith found themselves sitting in the mess hall for the last time.

  A new class was scheduled to start basic training the next day.

  “See the recruits?” Smith asked.

  “Damn. There’s so many of them,” Dale answered.

  “This war could last for a long time, I guess.”

  “You think so?” Dale was concerned. He wondered what an endless war would look like.

  Ërin: Merely study American politics.

  “Wars always last longer than expected,” Smith said.

  “Hey, Brown!” A soldier wearing captain’s insignia interrupted their conversation. He sat down next to Smith, but he looked at Dale. “You remember me?”

  Dale: Ërin?

  Ërin: Not in my database.

  “No,” Dale answered. “But you look familiar.”

  “David Beck. We met in line at the reception center. I was telling you about the–”

  “Buddy system,” Dale spat with disgust. “Yeah, I remember. You’ll be happy to know you were right.”

  “It went badly, I know,” he said. “That’s sort of why I’m here.”

  He looked at Smith, nodded, then returned his eyes to Dale.

  “You knew about Brian?” Dale asked.

  “I heard he got transferred. Serves him right, in my opinion.” He lowered his voice. “I’m in Unit Nineteen. That’s why I came to talk to you.”

  “Really?” Private Smith said. “I heard Unit Nineteen was a badass assignment.”

  Beck frowned at him. “Dale, do you mind if we discuss this in private?”

  Dale didn’t move. He said, “Smith is a good friend. You can say what you want to say.”

  “Yeah, okay,” the captain said.

  Dale: Ërin, record, tag, and file this conversation. And, in the future, anything that might seem necessary, do the same.

  Ërin: Done.

  “I was in a briefing,” Beck said. “Another captain mentioned that a kid had turned down a position in Unit Nineteen because of a buddy agreement, and then got screwed over. When I heard who was banned, I started piecing together the story and I remembered you.”

  Beck looked around the room and then brought his eyes back to Dale and smiled. “I checked out your record, Brown,” he said. “And I talked to Captain Redding. She decided I could offer you a second chance.”

  “As simple as that?” Dale asked.

  “Pretty much. Your record is good,” Beck answered. “You did a great job on the castle and ogre run.”

  “I didn’t do that alone.” Dale pointed to Smith. “Besides him, there were a few other important players who I couldn’t have succeeded without.”

  “Understood,” Beck said.

  “Sounds like an interesting offer. Can I think about it?” Dale asked. “I’m tired of making rash decisions and then paying for them later.”

  “By the end of the day, soldier,” Beck answered. “But it’s a great opportunity. We have alliances with many of the top guilds, crews, and tribes. There’s good pay, and the chicks dig us.”

  Beck stood up and changed into an avatar.

  He grew a foot taller, his hair became black and straight, and his face grew angular and smooth, accented by pointed ears. His uniform and equipment transmogrified as well.

  Chainmail armor over dark-green and brown woodland-camo leather clothing covered most of his torso, and he wore knee-high boots with speckled lacing. On his back he had a shield, as well as a longbow complete with an arrow-filled quiver.

  In his hand he held a wizard staff covered in gold-leafed runes and symbols.

  A purple, yellow, and red tabard hung from his muscular body with an axe-wielding polar bear embroidered in the center of it.

  Beck summoned an all-white spider battle pet with glowing red eyes.

  Dale felt a wave of discomfort, but it passed quickly after the spider jumped on Beck’s shoulder.

  Not done showing off, Beck summoned a vanity pet next. It was a rare coywolf, the North American breed that mixed timber-wolves and coyotes.

  Dale felt covetous; he loved animals, especially rare ones.

  The coywolf appeared to look at Dale and wink, but perhaps he imagined it.

  Dale: Ërin, could you turn on identifications?

  Done.

  Dale read Beck’s pop-up. “Crap,” Dale whispered.

  Smith looked at him and said, “You’d be nuts not to join them.”

  An electric buzzing noise grew from a low hum to a loud crackling, and swirling snow appeared.

  In the middle of the tornado of ice, a polar bear materialized, a black leather saddle covered with handmade runes on its back. Dale had seen similar runes before. Supposedly they were created from the blood of fallen enemies.

  The great white beast roared while rearing up on its legs like a warhorse and then dropped to the ground.

  Beck mounted the creature and galloped away.

  With each stride, the bear’s fur showed a faint trace of tiger striping glowing with a vermilion hue.

  “Wow, those are extremely rare,” Dale said.

  “I think you’re crazy if you don’t do this,” Smith said. “You’ll advance faster, get better weapons, and have more opportunities for loot. And you’ll be less likely to die.”

  “You think so? I wonder if I won’t end up being given riskier quests with opportunities to be killed in worse ways.”

  “Maybe, but don’t be negative.” Smith said.

  “What about you?” Dale asked. He looked at his new friend and thought it would be kind of shitty to lose another one so soon.

  “I’ll be alright,” Smith said.

  “No,” Dale said. “You should come with me.”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  “Let’s bind together, and then they’ll have to take you. At least if they want me.”


  “Really? You mean that?”

  “Sure, you saved my life,” Dale said. “Follow me.”

  The writing on the sign above the administration office was etched in a translucent metal that changed colors depending on which angle Dale viewed it.

  Joint EUDA & Rhith Administration Building.

  An elderly woman was behind the counter. “How can I help you this morning?”

  “We’d liked to get bound together,” Dale said.

  “Oh, yes. Let me see. Did you want a Nefyn service, or did you have a specific religion in mind?”

  “No, nothing specific,” Dale said. “We haven’t really talked about it. Bri– I mean, Smith, do you care?”

  “No,” Smith said. “Ma’am, we don’t need a ceremony.” He gave Dale a strange look.

  “Sorry. I just…”

  “You don’t have to explain.”

  The woman tapped on a screen. “Well, boys, we have a South Pacific Islander ceremony tomorrow, complete with a luau. It’s a Kanawa specialty, roasted pig, and hula girls. Those fairies sure know how to throw a party. The last time I went to a wedding…should I put you on the reservation list?”

  “No, ma’am,” Dale said. “We need to get it done now if that’s possible.”

  She entered some data on the screen.

  System Message: The following agreement has been proposed:

  Binding between Corporal Dale Brown and Private Samuel Smith.

  Active upon acceptance.

  Attributes: Ability to trade and gift all soul-bound items and all mounts, weapons, pets, artifacts, and loot.

  Attention: Soldiers will be guaranteed joint assignment; however, the EUDA reserves the right to limit postings to the abilities of the lowest ranked member of the partnership. Volunteer commitment will be extended to match the soldier with the most time remaining in service.

  Acceptance: [Y/N]

  Dale accepted.

  Private Smith agreed.

  They shook hands.

  “Partners,” Dale said.

  He led Smith to the Unit Nineteen headquarters, and they met with Captain Redding.

  “Corporal Brown,” she said, “it’s nice to have you back. Who’s your friend?”

  “Smith, sir. Private Smith,” Dale answered. He felt nervous. He didn’t know if he was breaking any rules by bringing Smith into Unit Nineteen headquarters.

  “So, Private Smith,” she said, extending her hand, “what brings you here?”

  Smith shook her hand. “I’m bound to Dale, um – Corporal Brown, sir.”

  “I see.”

  Redding paced. She didn’t speak again until after she’d closed her eyes and stood silently for a minute. “I’ve reviewed your record. You qualify to test; that’s all I can promise. You and Brown need to be back here tomorrow at oh five hundred. You’ll have to test together. It’s all or nothing, boys.”

  She waved her hand in front of herself, as she was about to dance. With her fingers pointing upwards, twirling around, she said a chant and changed into a different avatar.

  Dale pulled up her identifying pop-up and read that her race was Naphil. She was a beautiful redhead in her humant avatar, Dale thought, but as a Naphil she was exquisite.

  More than just beautiful, she was magnetically seductive.

  Never before had he felt so viscerally attracted to a woman.

  She’d grown a few inches taller, and her clothing had changed from a standard officer’s military uniform into a tight-fitting and revealing outfit.

  Her red hair was now braided into a tail that nearly touched the floor. Her arms and legs were long, slender, and had a translucent paleness to them.

  Her face was perfect, like a sculpted doll, and each feature held his attention.

  Eyes, perfect.

  Mouth, perfect.

  Teeth, smile, lips, all perfect.

  It was obviously deep magic, but he didn’t care. He felt like he could look at her for a thousand years and still want more.

  From her idyllic ears, which featured sparkling topaz gemstone earrings, to a throat that displayed a choker of diamonds, she epitomized goddess-like femininity.

  She looked into Dale’s eyes, and Dale, looking into them, stood transfixed.

  He could barely breathe.

  “Come to me,” she said. “Now.”

  Dale stepped towards her.

  She met him, wrapped her arms around his stiff body, and pulled his face into the luscious valley of her cleavage.

  “Would you die for me?” she said, stroking his head, brushing his ears with her fingers, ever so gently, and purring like a mother cat cleaning a kitten intimately with her tongue.

  “Yes,” Dale answered. “Oh, God, yes.”

  She released him and returned to her humant avatar. “You have a lot to learn, son.”

  She looked at Private Smith. “What did you see?”

  “You changed into a beautiful woman,” he said. “About my height, very slender, short black hair, brown eyes, and–”

  “Enough,” she said. “I suggest you both spend time in the library tonight. I’ll grant you access to the Nagant War files. It’s time the curtain parted, boys. See you tomorrow for testing.”

  She winked.

  “Sir,” they said in unison.

  “Sir,” Dale said, “may I ask a question?”

  “Quickly,” she answered.

  “The Nagant Wars?” he asked. “I’m confused about what it is.”

  “Unit Nineteen, Dale. I thought they explained this,” she said. “Unit Nineteen is a military unit that engages in the Rhith Nagant Wars platform for the express purpose of protecting the planet from evil.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s not a difficult concept, Corporal Brown,” she said.

  “It’s only a little confusing, sir,” he said.

  “You’re a soldier. Just follow orders and everything will be fine,” Redding said. “Oh, by the way, there are a few romance novels sitting there on that table. You’re welcome to borrow them to pass the time if you want.”

  She left the waiting room.

  Dale looked at Smith. “Black hair?”

  “Yeah, why?” Smith answered. “You want one of these paperbacks?”

  “Naw,” Dale said. “I’ve never found erotic literature that entertaining.”

  “A shame,” Smith said. He selected the two with the best covers and placed them in his inventory.

  They headed to the base library and used their new credentials to find appropriate guidebooks. They found comfortable chairs and studied. Dale was soon absorbed in reading.

  Nagant Wars: Official Guide

  Classified: EUDA enforces all available penalties for unauthorized use of this text.

  Introduction:

  When the Ningishzida discovered ISRA, interdimensional space relocation action, it plunged the known galaxies into a bitter intergalactic war…

  Dale read for two hours before his eyes became too tired to focus.

  “Smith?” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “You tired yet?”

  “Just a moment,” Smith said. “Let me finish this chapter.”

  When Smith looked up, Dale asked him, “How far did you get?”

  “Oh, the revelation of the scars–”

  “Huh?” Dale looked at him strangely. “What are you talking–”

  “The heroine, she was abandoned by her parents when she was just a child. She grew up in a string of foster homes and orphanages–”

  “What are you–”

  “Let me finish! The heroine is gifted in astrophysics, so she gets an apprenticeship on this ship–”

  “Hold it!” Dale shouted. “What are you talking about?”

  “The romance,” Smith said. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Nagant War’s official manuals and guides.”

  “Oh,” Smith said. “That shit bored me to death after about a minute. If there’s something important, I’
m sure you can fill me in.”

  “I-I guess so,” Dale said. “I mean–”

  “Hey, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, of course…”

  “You want to hear this weightless sex scene? I mean, it’s super artistic and creative–”

  “No.” Dale frowned. “I’m sure I don’t want some dude reading porn to me in the library.”

  “Suit yourself,” Smith said, walking away. “I’ll be in my bunk.”

  The next morning, Sergeant Dyfrig, the lizard-man Dale had met on the day he was introduced to Unit Nineteen, was waiting for them in the front office.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Dyfrig said. “Are you ready for a hard and painful day?”

  “Ummm,” Dale said.

  “Is pain at one hundred percent?” Smith asked. He sounded as worried as Dale felt.

  “Sorry, guys. Dems the rules.” The reptile-man brought his tail around and hit Dale in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, death is highly unlikely.”

  “Great,” Dale said.

  “I heard what happened, Brown. That problem’s been patched. There’s no level ten shit in this trial. I’ve read your performance reviews; you two will ace this thing.”

  “Okay, Sergeant,” Dale said. “But you don’t know how bad that thing hurt.”

  “Don’t assume things, Brown. Makes you look ignorant. You don’t know me. I’ve suffered things you can’t imagine,” the reptile said. “Let’s move out and I’ll explain the objectives as we go. And don’t forget, the pain isn’t exactly like pain necessarily, I mean, sure, it hurts, but still…if it were real, nobody would play.”

  They followed Dyfrig out of the office to a big training field. Dyfrig pointed to a stable of warhorses. “You guys go pick mounts. Those are guild owned. You can claim any of them for a day.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  In a mist of sparkling light, a giraffe appeared. Adorned with bronze armor, it shook its head, stomped its feet, and turned to lick Dyfrig’s face with an extremely long purple tongue.

  “You pick first,” Smith said.

  “What?”

  “I said you pick first.”

  “Pick what?” Dale asked.

  “A mount.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Dale said. “I was just thinking about this paranormal fantasy I read once.”

  “Pay attention. We’ve got a dungeon–”

  “Quest. I know,” Dale said.