by G. R. Cooper
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
About the Cover
Dedication
Meta 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Meta 2
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Meta 3
Epilog
Acknowledgements
Shepherd Moon
by G.R. Cooper
Copyright © 2015 G.R. Cooper
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
About the Cover
The photograph on the cover is from NASA’s Cassini spacecraft mission, showing Saturn, its rings and the moon Titan.
The photo was taken on May 6, 2012 when Cassini was about half a million miles away from Titan.
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Space Science Institute
Usage of this photo for the cover in no way implies any endorsement of the product by NASA or any NASA employee.
Usage of this photo, however, definitely implies full endorsement of NASA and NASA employees by the author.
Support space research and exploration!
To my family.
The ones I’m related to and the ones I’m not.
meta 1
are they ready?
they?
hardly.
it’s only been twenty thousand cycles.
but, maybe, individuals might be ready.
pick some likely candidates.
test them.
Chapter 1
Duncan Sheriden stood in front of the glass wall, awed. A planet hung above the viewport, dominating the vista. Looking up at the blue orb threatened to disorient him, replacing up with down; negating every life lesson gravity had taught.
“What’s it made of?”
“The planet? Whatever planets are made of. It doesn’t matter. It’s just computer graphics anyway.”
Duncan turned his head to look at his friend, “No. I meant the glass.” He looked back at the view, “I mean, it’s a huge half dome. It must be a hundred meters across.”
“At least,” said Matt.
“And there are no visible supports, no framing. Just an unbroken semi circle of clear glass.” He looked back at Matt, “Is it silica? Diamond? What?”
Matt laughed, “You want to know, fundamentally, what it really is? It’s computer code. It’s a rule. A rule that says ‘this thing separates nasty space vacuum from life supporting gasses, it’s see through, and probably indestructible’.”
“And anyway,” Matt continued, “you’re twenty seconds into the first location in a functionally limitless virtual universe. The room was designed to impress new players and the first thing you notice is the one thing you can’t see.” Matt laughed again, “You’re hilarious. C’mon, let’s get you setup.”
Matt pulled Duncan away from the view and, turning, they walked toward what looked like an information kiosk. As they approached it, Duncan heard, as though a voice inside his head;
“Welcome to ‘Omegaverse’, Duncan Sheriden. I’m your personal assistant, Clive. You can call me up by name or by selecting the question mark icon in the lower left side of your user interface. Please do so now.”
An icon in the lower left of his field of view began rapidly flashing so he focused on it, then thought ‘select’ and the neural interface in his VR helmet carried out the command.
“Thank you, Duncan. As you move through the Omegaverse, you will undoubtedly have many questions. I will, to the best of my ability, give you the answers!”
Duncan smiled. “What’s the glass in the dome made of?”
“A lattice of carbon, similar to diamonds, we believe. The technology is beyond our capabilities. We assume, like most of the technology in the Omegaverse, that it was created by the Old Ones.”
“What are the Old Ones?”
“A race from the distant past. Nothing is known of their history. All we have left of them is their technology.”
“What planet is that? The one we’re orbiting.”
“Kepler 22B.”
“Thanks. How do I go back to talking to other players?” he asked. Matt looked bored.
“Either click on my icon, which functions as a toggle, or dismiss me verbally. Others around you can’t hear you and I talk. In time, we’ll get to know each other well enough that you won’t have to either call or dismiss me.”
Matt smiled at him, “Are you ready?”
“Am I ready for what? Playing?” Duncan asked, “What about my name, my character, my class, skills, attributes. All that stuff?”
Matt waved his hands dismissively, “None of that stuff applies. This isn’t like some fantasy role playing game where you’re playing an elf or a barbarian. You’re you. Duncan Sheriden, twentieth level dork!”
“Some parts are customizable,” he continued, “You can set your nickname, the name that displays to other players. But for the most part, any special abilities or skills you have develop for you as you play, however you play. But everything you need to do, you just ‘do’, your skills are as much tied to your actual abilities as it is anything else. As you practice, you’ll likely gain in proficiency in artificial increments, but that just helps by a matter of a few percent, so it’s only really noticeable statistically. By far, most of the advancement you’ll do as a player is tied to your equipment.”
Duncan shook his head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Matt smiled, “It will, soon enough.” He turned, “Follow me,” and started walking toward a door opposite the glass dome, behind the kiosk.
Duncan followed through the automatic door, which led into a short hallway with another door at the other end. Once through the door, which closed behind them, a disembodied voice asked
“Destination?”
“Home sweet home,” said Matt, who continued through the alcove. As he reached the end, the next door opened and Matt, Duncan in tow, walked through into what, Duncan thought, looked like a medium sized apartment, sparsely furnished with disjointedly eclectic styles.
Matt waved his arms expansively, “Mi casa es su casa,” after which Duncan received a message, in text, across the top of his field of view:
Access level g
ranted: Permanent Guest. Special restrictions: None.
“Guest?” asked Duncan.
“Yeah, that means that you’re allowed to be here whenever you like. Permanent means that I don’t have to be here. No restrictions means you can access or mess with whatever you like,” laughed Matt, “so don’t fuck up my place.”
“Wow, thanks,” said Duncan, who then heard Clive’s voice:
“I’ve setup your access code for this destination to be “Matt’s Place”, though you can change it to whatever you like. Just ask!”
“Thanks,” subvocalized Duncan, then to Matt, “Do I need a key or something?”
“Nah. You’re allowed in and so is anyone you’re grouped with, but they don’t have any access apart from being here, walking around. They can look, but not touch.”
Duncan began looking around the space, “This place is better decorated than your real apartment.”
“Cleaner, too!” Matt laughed, “Have a seat, I’ll be back in a minute”. He went through a door in the wall opposite the front door.
Instead, Duncan began exploring the room. Next to the front door, hanging on the wall, was an old time, twentieth century, advertisement poster for Coca-Cola. At the bottom right, it was numbered, 27/500. Clive chimed in:
“Advertisers can purchase loot drops, in lots. Depending upon rarity and desirability, these items can command a large sum in auctions.”
“Really,” asked Duncan, “for a decoration?”
He focused on the bottom, reading the fine print. Trademark and copyright notices. Then saw ‘found by Matt Vanderveer, March 16 2021’.
“Yes”, continued Clive, “but the drops aren’t limited to decorations. Clothing, weapons, anything you can think of, really, has probably been marketed in some manner.”
Matt returned, “Like it? Found that poster during a really hairy fight. Wasn’t sure I was going to be able to survive long enough to get it back here. I could probably sell it for twenty bucks, but I like it.”
“Here,” continued Matt, “I have some equipment you can have.”
A dialog box appeared in Duncan’s upper right field of view. He focused on it and saw a list of items. An M4 assault rifle, a .45 m1911 pistol, some body armor and a few small packages marked “.45 5 magazines” or “5.56 5 magazines”. He looked to the “Accept” icon below the list and chose it.
Clive helpfully began flashing another icon on the left side of his view, marked Inventory, so Duncan chose that, opening another, larger sheet. He began reading through the list, which overlaid his field of view. The boxes, icons and words were semi-transparent, so he was able to walk to the middle of the room and sit in one of the chairs near where Matt was sitting.
“Isn’t this kind of low-tech for a space game?” Duncan asked, “I mean, I just assumed this would all be lasers and plasma rifles in the 40 watt range.”
Matt laughed. “Just what you see here, pal. Anyway, we’ll be heading off to clear out an earth-like planet. Probably nothing more than the local equivalent of some tigers and bears. These will be enough, and the ammo is dirt cheap. We’ll get to the cool toys later.”
“This isn’t exactly what I’d want to go up against tigers and bears, either,” said Duncan.
Matt laughed, “Don’t worry. There are four of us.”
Duncan closed the inventory window, paused and looked at Matt.
“This is a lot of information, pretty fast.”
“Yeah, but if you’d been alone, you’d have been led through a series of newbie introductions,” he laughed, “At this point, you’d probably be learning how to call up your inventory, change your clothes, or select how you look. Since you have me,” he bowed, “you get the quicky intro.”
Duncan looked over Matt. The resemblance to his real life visage was remarkable.
“What do I look like?”
“Nothing like the real Duncan. Just some generic schmuck,” laughed Matt, while Clive opened up a box labeled Personal Info.
“If you like,” said Clive “I can scrape your social media accounts for pictures, and put together a reasonable facsimile of you. Be advised, however, that while this service is free for the first time, any additional changes require a payment based on the amount of change as well as current market rates. Would you like me to make the change?”
“Sure.”
“There he is!” exclaimed Matt, “That’s the ugly mug I’m used to seeing on the barstool next to mine!”
The picture in the top left of the Personal Info page changed to mirror the picture he used on social media for his profile picture. Below was listed the standard social media information such as name, age, and location. All but his name were currently grayed out, indicating that they were not shared publicly.
Just then, the door opened, admitting Clancey and Vince.
“Well,” said Vince, “look who finally got off his ass and signed up.”
“Yeah, let’s go kill some shit!” said Clancey.
“Sounds good,” said Matt getting up from his chair, “time to saddle up,” and headed for the door. The two new guys did an about face, following him. Duncan jumped up and trailed his three friends, the door to Matt’s place closing behind him as the four crowded into the short hallway.
“Destination?”
“Mission Control” said Matt and Clancey simultaneously.
The door opened as Clancey, first in line, arrived. Once through, Duncan looked around into the space, much larger than even the first introduction room had been.
“C’mon,” said Clancey, “Let’s find a good 4 ship.”
“Shannon going to make it?” asked Matt.
“Yeah,” said Vince “but probably for not an hour or so. Plenty of time for a milk run.”
The four of them, Duncan in trail, entered through another automatic airlock, into what looked like a small booth, with two seats on either side. As they grabbed their seats, Clive piped up for Duncan:
“As this is your first mission, there are some differences between what you’re experiencing from the rest. Matt, as group leader, is currently selecting mission parameters; difficulty, duration and so on. All of them are currently selecting whether or not to rent mission equipment, or to insure equipment they own. Until you’ve had a chance to gain some experience and earn some credits, equipment or insurance will be provided to you, free of charge.”
A message flashed across the top of his field of view;
“Vinsanity and Clancey have been added to your group by Pope.”
“Hey newb!,” yelled Vince “Set your nickname.”
“Clive,” said Duncan, “set my nickname to Taipan”. The cheers from his teammates told him that Clive had complied. Clive added:
“I’ve also taken the liberty of setting up a standard combat overlay. This will display the nicknames of your teammates over their heads, color coded to reflect their current health status, green, yellow or red. We can tailor this to your specific needs over time. During the mission, I’ll leave it off by default, but you can ask for it at any time.”
“When do we get there?” Duncan asked, looking around at his teammates, their heads crowned by the green letters spelling out Pope, Vinsanity and Clancey.
“We’re already there,” said Vince, “and we’ll un-ass this crate as soon as you’re ready. Lock and load, newb!”
Duncan pulled up his inventory screen, “Clive, unbox those magazines and put them in the bandolier slots.” He pulled the .45 from its holster slot, grabbed a pistol magazine from the bandolier, slammed it home, and jacked a round. After replacing the loaded pistol in the holster, he pulled the M4 off the large inventory slot on his back. To his friends, it looked like he reached behind himself and pulled the rifle off of his back. He pulled a 30 round magazine from the bandolier, put it into the rifle, and pulled the charging handle on the top of the receiver. He made sure the safety was on, then looked up to his friends.
“Ready.”
Chapter 2
the evening
before
Charlottesville, Virginia. USA
Duncan pulled open the door and walked into the brewpub. After the hot Virginia humidity, the air conditioning made it feel like his skin was suddenly awash in cold water. As his eyes adjusted from the brightness of the late afternoon sun to the dimly lit interior of the restaurant, he made his practiced way through the crowd to his usual seat at the end of the copper topped bar.
He placed a large box on the bar as he climbed onto the stool. Reaching around the box, he lifted the pint of ale that Shannon had begun pouring as soon as she saw him walking down the street to the bar. He took his first, long deep draw from the glass, sighed, and set the glass back onto the bar.
“You’re late”, said Matt, one stool over. “For beer. Are you unwell?”
“Nah, just had to drop by the store and pick up a little something.” He used his pocketknife to begin slicing through the packaging tape on the box.
“The nagging finally paid off, did it?” said Clancey, sitting around the corner from Duncan and Matt who took the two seats at the end of the bar. “You’re finally going to join us.”
The opened box revealed what, to Duncan, looked like a kind of egg shaped vase; rounded at the back, more pointed in the front, with a large hole in the middle. He pulled it onto his head.
