by Rick Scott
We step through the doors and ice-cold air conditioning and flickering holograms greet us in a dimmed interior that makes me feel like I’m back in the bioluminescent gardens again. The place is jumping with patrons and while not exactly packed, it’s a good enough crowd to make the place feel lively and warm despite the frigid A/C.
Gilly grabs my hand and runs for the dance floor. “Come on!”
I have to catch my breath as we push through people, turning heads left and right.
The crowd instinctively makes space for us as Gilly takes center stage and breaks into a lively dance routine that has my jaw dropping. She sways and undulates her body in a way that’d make even Aiko jealous, taking on a whole new persona in my eyes.
I stare, stupefied. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”
“Ten years of dance classes,” Gilly says with a grin. “My mom forced me. But it has its perks. Come on.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as she grabs my hand. I push down my pride and bust out the paltry moves I practiced with Aiko. Gilly laughs but doesn’t seem to mind my undoubtedly wooden dance moves compared to hers. I guess it’s a good thing in a way. I wouldn’t want to be so good that I’d have to explain who my dance teacher was.
We dance for what feels like hours, hot and fast, slow and close. Towards the end of the night she’s in my arms and we’re slow dancing while the crowd thins. We nuzzle noses until Gilly gives me a sultry kiss on the mouth that lasts as long as the song.
She finally rests her head on my shoulder and releases a sigh in my ear. “I love you, Reece. I wish we could stay here forever.”
“Me too,” I say and hold her close.
It’s a romantic idea—living like this—to have a brand-new life with Gilly in a city of endless possibilities. And who knows. If we fight hard enough, save everyone and restore Citadel, maybe we could even turn it into a reality. But that all starts one battle at a time. And tomorrow’s battle starts with the Gun Queen.
But that can wait for tonight.
Tonight, I’m enjoying a small slice of heaven, in a dark and grim reality.
Chapter 34: Western World
“Of course I’m coming with you,” Queen Angela says from behind her steel desk. “The weapon is untradeable. How else do you think I’m going to get the drop?”
I stare back at the eight-foot-tall android, now sitting eye level with me in her specialized chair. The rest of my team are assembled behind me and respond through the local party chat we’ve created to communicate privately for just such circumstances.
“We didn’t practice with her,” Maxis says. “I don’t think healing magic will even work on her. The whole plan could be screwed if she comes.”
“She’s right about the drop though, mate,” Rembrandt says. “She’ll have to be in our party to get it.”
“I’ll handle this,” I say in the chat. Then aloud I say, “We have a strategy that might not be too conducive for you to join. We plan on rez cycling through the fight.”
She cocks a slender brow at me.
“It’s liable to work,” Lance says, standing with his arms folded next to Queen Angela. “I’ve seen them in practice.”
“Is there a place you can observe the fight until it’s over?” I ask. “Someplace out of combat?”
Queen Angela pulls her lips to the side in thought. “I suppose I’ll have no other choice, but there’s another reason for me to come. The both of us actually.”
It’s my turn to raise a brow now.
“The real Gun Queen is an open-world dungeon, the abandoned Western World Amusement Park. Normally I’d bring the entire faction along and just steamroll through the trash mobs to get to the boss room, but I want this done discreetly.”
Discreetly? I’m about to ask why, but then figure if she wants this done hush-hush for some reason it’s not likely she’ll reveal the reason to us. The reason itself might not matter anyway, but the implications do. “So what does that mean for us? How will that affect the fight?”
Angela smiles. “Should make it a lot easier, I’d think.”
“How so?” Val Helena asks, looking concerned. “We practiced this for days. Adding last minute changes, even positive ones, could throw everything off.”
“Relax,” Lance says. “It won’t affect the Gun Queen battle itself. Just getting to her.”
A map of the Badlands area pops onto my HUD as Lance sends us each a link. He then zooms in on an area to the north and a top-down schematic of the Gun Queen’s Amusement Park zone appears.
“There is a way to get through the park without battling all the mobs,” Lance explains as he draws a route to the boss room on the map. “A shortcut. But it involves sneaking to two separate areas within the dungeon and entering special unlock codes to make the mobs non-hostile.”
“How do we get these codes?” Becky asks.
“They’re key items that drop from a weekly quest,” Lance says.
“And we already have them,” Angela adds. “Lance and I worked on that this week. We just need a way for us to get to the access points unseen.” She then looks between Aiko and I. “I’m assuming you two have the skills for that?”
I never thought the Gun Queen battle would start with a stealth mission, but if it’ll save us from having to fight dozens of mobs, it’ll be worth it.
“We can use Shadow Wall,” I say. “But it will be invisibility only. No sneak.”
Lance shrugs and looks to Angela. “Should be fine. Pretty sure they’re all visual-based.”
“Pretty sure?” Aiko questions him sardonically.
Lance scowls as he locks eyes with the elf. “I’m sure.”
“Very well then,” Angela says as she stands, dwarfing me with her height. “We have only one shot with these codes. The tournament is four days away and we can’t wait another week for new codes to spawn. Are you ready?”
I notice that Queen Angela looks directly at me when she asks the question and not at all of us in general. She’s hinting that it’s my call as the leader to make. I feel the gravity of the decision as well as the support of my teammates as they await my response.
The sooner we get access to the archives, the more time Gilly will have to find the location of Citadel. With the unknown of the tournament looming beyond that, defeating the Gun Queen as soon as possible is in our best interest, as well as Queen Angela’s.
“We’re ready,” I say confidently. “Lead the way.”
* * *
The sun is reaching a mid-morning peak by the time we drive through the desert and arrive at the abandoned amusement park of Western World. We travel in separate vehicles, Queen Angela and Lance leading the charge in her chrome convertible, followed by Lexi, Rembrandt, and Becky in the dune buggy and Maxis and Val Helena in a large jeep that fits the giantess comfortably. I ride behind the pack with Gilly on my motorcycle.
I was wary of trying to ride a street bike through the desert at first, but with Lexi’s help I was able to access a settings menu that transformed the bike for off-road use, raising the suspension and increasing the width of the tires for added traction.
It rides perfectly on the soft and shifting sand, but still, I take it slow and find it much harder than riding on the paved streets, especially with Gilly on the back. She doesn’t seem to mind the rougher ride, however and even bounces off the bike enthusiastically when we reach our destination.
“Whoa,” she says, sidling up next to me as I dematerialize the motorcycle and store it in my inventory. “This place looks totally creepy.”
I have to agree with her. The simulation back in the City of Dreams didn’t do the place justice in terms of atmosphere. Even though it’s broad daylight, the desolation of the abandoned amusement park gives it an extra sense of loss and decay—an echo of its former self, like faded laughter or failed hopes and dreams.
Before us the grand entrance stands tall, with an archway of broken bulbs that at night would probably read something like We t rn Wo r d,
if they even lit up at all. A large fence surrounds the complex, which spans for at least a couple square miles as far as I can tell. Within, the remains of a mock township and big-top tents with torn canopies dominate most of the area. Further, towards the back is a derelict roller coaster with whole sections missing and a rusted-out Ferris Wheel with a huge depiction of the Gun Queen herself at its center.
Queen Angela dematerializes her vehicle, as does Maxis and Val Helena. Only Lexi, who is carrying the all-important mana tree in her cargo hold, keeps her vehicle intact and idling as Queen Angela gathers us together.
“The mobs in there are all high-level androids,” she says. “They look like cartoony robots from some third-rate vid stream, but don’t let that fool you. A few of the big ones can be almost as tough as an Overlord, so no one enters until we enter the clearance codes. Got it?”
We all nod and then Angela looks in my direction. “Are you ready?”
She shoots me a separate party request and I accept.
“Let’s do this.”
* * *
Queen Angela and I pair off and head towards the entrance while Aiko and Lance do the same. Through the archway I spy the first of the mobs and they’re every bit as goofy as Angela made them out to be. Most are humanoid in shape but are made with cylinders for bodies and rods for arms connected via ball joints. Their heads are blocky with simplistic human features and to top off the façade, most of them are wearing cowboy hats and other remnants of western attire.
I don’t know much about the wild-west period of pre-war America, other than that it happened a couple hundred years before the supposed end of the world. But if this is any representation of the time period, I can see why the amusement park failed.
“Who would even like wacky stuff like this?” I ask idly through the party chat.
“You’d be surprised,” Angela says. “Some of the literature is still quite popular. Timeless, I guess you’d say.”
She stops to get her bearings just outside the gate and brings up the map again, marking our destination. “I’ll leave it up to you to get us there without being seen,” she says. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I glance back at my teammates who are now gathered around Lexi’s buggy, ready to drive in once we give the all-clear. Across from me I catch Aiko phasing out of existence with Lance as she casts Shadow Wall.
I do the same.
I engage Sneak instinctively as I head forward, even though Lance said the robots detect only via sight. It might all be a moot point, however as Queen Angela makes no attempt to mask her heavy footfalls at all as she follows behind me. We pass through the immediate entrance area and I try to stick to the map as closely as possible as I navigate through the teams of robots who are standing so still I wonder if they’re active at all.
I keep a close watch on both our spell duration and my cooldown timer, seeking out pockets of safe areas where I can recast Shadow Wall before continuing deeper into the dungeon. The progress is slow but steady and with what’s riding on this, I’m in no hurry to screw it up.
As the minutes drag on we fill the time with idle chit-chat, commenting on the various mobs within the zone, but there’s one thing that’s been plaguing my mind since we got here, and now that I have Queen Angela as a captive audience, there’s no better time to raise the subject.
I wait till we’re nearly to our destination and through the majority of the mobs, before I pop the question.
“So what’s the story with you and Rembrandt?”
The tall android stops short when I ask the question. “What do you mean?”
We’re high up in the scaffolding above the center ring of a big-top tent now, our destination just ahead. It’s a control booth on the opposite side, but with a fifty-foot span to cross upon a narrow gangway. I figure this would be the perfect spot to both get some answers and wait for my timers to reset.
“I mean it’s obvious you two share a history and all,” I say. Man, how do I put this delicately? “But are you really expecting him to win that tournament? The odds are stacked against him and you don’t seem that concerned.”
“It was your idea, remember?” She smirks at me slyly and I feel the same odd ambivalence I’ve felt from her before when it comes to her and Rembrandt. I truly can’t tell if it’s love between them or hate, or perhaps something else entirely. Over the past few days I’ve seen them together a lot, taking rides out into the city, laughing and talking together, like an old married couple almost. But that doesn’t gel with the attitude I’m sensing now.
“Don’t you even care that he’s facing true death?”
“I don’t make the rules,” she says matter-of-factly. “Rembrandt played the cards he was dealt and now it’s time for him to ride it out. He already blew his chance to change things.”
“What do you mean?”
Queen Angela pauses a moment, looking out over the interior of the big top tent. Below us are fossils of a stage act: barrels and ramps set up for some kind of stunt show and about a dozen android entertainers frozen in time.
“Chance to change what?” I ask again. “The trial?”
Angela lets out a sigh before flicking her long dreadlocks over her shoulder. “I heard you went on a date last night. Did you enjoy it?”
I’m taken aback by her sudden shift in topic. As well as her knowing that Gilly and I went on a date. Although with Lexi involved, perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised that she knows. Still, it’s pretty irrelevant. “What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
I wonder what she’s getting at, but I decide to answer her truthfully. “One of the best nights of my life.”
“And this past week, have you not enjoyed yourself here? The city, the living.”
“Look, what’s this about?” I say, getting irritated. “I’m asking you a question about Rembrandt and you’re—”
“All that was possible because of the amnesty,” she cuts me off. “People simply enjoying the city for what it is and what it has to offer—nothing more. New London can be an amazing place, Reece, but with this endless, pointless faction-killing, it becomes a nightmare for most. And the rulers of this place perpetuate it.”
Rulers? “You mean Lennox? The quests and all.”
“No,” she says. “As instigating as those quests may be, they can be ignored. Lennox only facilitates. It’s the major houses that are the true drivers. They have all to gain by keeping this dog-eat-dog mentality in place. The lesser houses either have to bend to their rule for protection or are relegated to the worse parts of the city to struggle and survive. Rembrandt could have changed all that…if he would have become High King.”
Is that what she’s really mad about? “Changed it how?”
“As High King, he could have enacted a permanent amnesty. Any faction conflicts would be worked out in the ring, not on the streets.”
“And you think people would have agreed to that?”
“You see anyone complaining about it now?” Angela kneels to level her eyes with me. “Trust me, the majority of people want it, especially the lower houses. It used to be like this in the old days, before the major houses took over. They keep this street violence going because it suits their power base. In the end, that’s what we thought Rembrandt was doing when he went after the kings. We thought he was clearing out the old guard to start a better world…” Her voice then trails off and her eyes drift away, perhaps revising distant memories. “At least that’s what I thought he was doing.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I don’t dare interject. Eventually she starts speaking again, but her tone is much sharper, colder. “He abandoned us all. He had the chance to rule and lead us into a new era. But instead he turned his back on all of us. On me. He left the major houses without heirs and the power struggle that followed became a bloodbath.”
I sense the anger coming from her, her eyes seething with hate. “As much as I love him, I’ll never forgive him f
or what he did that day. For what he didn’t do, rather.” She looks at me grimly. “He didn’t lead.”
Her words stun me. She loves him, but that makes my next question all the more puzzling. “If you say you love him, then why are you forcing him into this tournament? Are you trying to punish him?”
Her countenance darkens further. “Has he told you why he did it? Why he went on his rampage?”
I shake my head.
“Perhaps it’s not best you hear from me then,” she says, folding her arms. “But if you want the short story, it was over a woman…” She then pauses again. “And no, that woman wasn’t me.”
An almost forlorn look glazes across her eyes as she stares at the ground far below us. “I told you that I love him. But love has many forms, Reece. Some of them not as straightforward as what you have with Gilly.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. Who could this other woman have been? But it’s clear Angela feels a sense of loss that it wasn’t her. This is a touchy area, one I’m not even sure I want to be a part of. I steer the conversation another way. “So are you hoping he’ll win the match and then declare himself High King?”
She scoffs out a laugh. “You mean do I hope he’ll atone for his sins and make right where he went wrong?”
I shrug. “I guess…yeah. Are you?”
“One can hope,” she says, standing to her full height again. “But if not, someone ought to.” She then smiles at me and gives a wink. “Come on, Reece, this kind of talk is not good before a battle. Let’s get this done.”
“Right,” I say, still a bit confused about that wink.
I push aside the thought as I cast Shadow Wall and step onto the gangway, slowly traversing to the opposite side of the tent. I truly hope Queen Angela isn’t thinking that somehow I’m going to make this happen for her. For one, I’m not even in the match with Rembrandt. Although if there was some way that I could be, perhaps together we could face it—
