Crafter's Passion Read online

  He said, "Why the heck is this stuff censored on the Community network? It's anti-AI."

  The Slab displayed, [Command not recognized.]

  While he was here, he tried a few other searches. Mexico-related news was obviously arranged to make the Mexican government look good, but US news was a little more negative. There were links to Free States sites that just didn't appear when he looked from his dorm. He realized too late that the Slab was probably going to report his list of visited sites when he got back on the usual network. "May as well hang for a sheep," he muttered, and looked up Thousand Tales stuff. The search results weren't that different, but there were forums he'd never even heard of. People there were talking about uploading, the competitor companies starting to offer the same service, and some rants about the US and China secretly being run by other AIs. It was interesting dipping into that larger pool of crazy. He resented having been kept out of it for his own good.

  Come to think of it, although the "Universe Repair Crew" cartoon was obviously poking fun at all the ways AI could go horribly wrong, he could also see it being subversive as hell against any human trying to run people's lives, too. He smiled as he pictured Baron Hal ordering everyone to dress up to attend a lecture, then getting humiliated by the genie crew's pants-shredding rebellion.

  Stan ordered a t-shirt to support the show's creators, and had it delivered to the Fun Zone. He'd pick it up later or have someone meet him in town to deliver it.

  Back in the Community, he got to work on his own little project. He took a coffee can left over from the kitchen and wrapped it in a coil of wire, added some computer networking parts using the workshop's half-working soldering iron and a lesson he'd done in princess world, and built himself a jury-rigged super antenna. When he pointed it in the right direction, his Slab detected the wireless network at the Mexicali playground all the way from here!

  More usefully, he was able to head out to the east and get Tales people playing with his drones using a much stronger wireless signal than before. He made a little money, and made plans to go farther out to the east next time.

  12. The Rebels' Forest

  He logged into the game in the evening and found his treasure chests and himself still in the hotel. He stuffed his backpack full of trade items instead of rope and sailcloth, then charmed the clerk NPC into holding the chests for now. There was a persuasion mini-game of sorts where a meter wobbled back and forth, but that only happened after he struck up a conversation. The clerk started off asking for "news from the other islands" and Stan obliged instead of brushing her off. From there it was easy to explain he was a trader and ask for a little favor to get him started. He learned something about Tourney Isle's shops and trade, and offered to upgrade a wagon when he came back. It was actually an interesting talk instead of a command menu. When the mini-game finally appeared, it was an anticlimax that gave him a big advantage on the "struggle" of wills.

  He headed up a coastal trail to the marketplace, thinking of the spontaneous parade earlier that had gone through here. Much like Central Island, this place had an assortment of outdoor shops catering both to adventurers and to more sedate craftsmen and fellow traders. He inspected the stores as he went by; lots of cotton that formed tents and awnings and shaped the whole market space into a bunch of shaded alleys where people of several species browsed. The game-world reality was that they were human and elf and half-dragon and part-dolphin and so on; the true reality was that some were human and some AIs of various sorts. His skills wouldn't tell him whether anyone was a Tier-III AI versus a human player or an uploader, but he could see filler NPCs and shopkeepers who were there to make the place bustle and maybe provide pickpockets. Even as he had that thought he saw a hawk-woman squawk and say "My purse!"

  Stan looked around and spotted an elf sauntering away from her. Stan gave chase and called out, "Stop!" The thief darted out of reach, but a burly man with a few dragon parts stepped into the elf's path like a wall. Stan cornered the pickpocket from the other direction, drew his hammer and said, "Give it back."

  "You wanna kill him or should I?" asked the dragon.

  That seemed a little extreme, but it made perfect sense given that the guy would just respawn. "Both!" he said, and they worked together to bludgeon the bad guy to death.

  "Thanks, mister," said the victim, taking back her coin purse.

  Stan saw through her; she was just another NPC. Even so, he gave her a smile.

  The dragon-man was real. "You can have his stuff if you want." The thief had only dropped the brown cloak he'd been wearing. Stan thanked him and put it away.

  He considered trying to buy three carrots for Davis, as the shopkeeper had suggested, but that struck him as being for suckers. He wasn't a quest-giving NPC that you could describe fully with a wiki article. In fact, Davis had once pulled a stunt in the genie cartoon, where he used a recurring slogan to tell who wasn't paying attention to him.

  Just under a grassy plateau lined with grey stone, there stood a terraced cotton farm being worked by a motley assortment of characters, almost none registering as NPCs. Before heading up a wooden staircase past them, he stopped to ask one of the adventurers, "Are you actually having fun tending a bunch of boring crops?"

  "For me it's an 'idle game' where I can work while I do stuff in the real world. I get free cotton, and besides, farming is kind of fun."

  Stan wondered if he could talk these guys into doing his Community chores for him. He headed up at last to the tournament grounds.

  Up there was a big open field with a low fence and bandstands. Seven flags waved around it. He recognized Mexico's, America's, and the Free States' "definitely not a Confederate flag" emblem. Overlooking it all, and by extension the whole island, was a mansion with a magnificent concrete dome and white pillars and some porches. A quartet of wizards were gathered to blast each other and summon a bunch of monsters in some kind of genteel turn-based duel. Stan walked past the spectators, went to the mansion, and knocked.

  A series of thumps sounded from inside, and a muffled "Darn it!" Something metal crashed and bounced. Stan stepped back from the door just as it opened. He found a harried white rabbit-man with his fur mussed, half-dressed in a steel breastplate and holding a pair of leather gloves with his big teeth. The bunny stood at about Stan's height (counting ears) and was fumbling to get his armor on.

  "Davis?" said Stan.

  "Yes, sir, I do believe I am. And what else I am is late. 'Scuse me." He fiddled with some buckles.

  "Can I help?"

  "You know what? Yes." He turned around and let Stan help him with the armor. "Sorry not to be hospitable, but I am on set in five. Another time?"

  "The carrot gift thing is a trick, isn't it? To weed out people who'd mistreat you."

  The rabbit laughed. "If you do insist on talking, how'd you like a walk-on role in someone else's story?"

  "Uh... Sure?"

  "Then hustle yourself along. I am late." Davis grabbed a backpack and bounded out the front door, sprinting along the tournament grounds and detouring only enough to avoid most of the magical explosions. Stan couldn't keep up with him, so he only saw Davis jump off the cliff at the far end, shouting, "Geronimo!" Stan saw a stamina meter vanishing as he followed and dodged around a summoned golem. This wasn't a fair encounter! Nobody had promised it would be, though. He got to the plateau's edge and saw a shimmering portal with a forest inside at a crazy angle. Now what? The portal was starting to close. Stan gave it a quick inspection and saw, [World Gate, target unknown. "Well?"]

  Fine, then. Ludo wouldn't lead him astray about such a thing. Stan jumped.

  * * *

  The Talisman went dark and a loading screen appeared. He was going to some totally new area and might not even have the graphics for it stored locally. While a progress bar filled, stirring orchestral music played and yellow text scrolled slowly up the screen to tell him about some kind of empire that had been taken over by a council of mad scientists. Finally, there was a magica
l flash and the game resumed with the message, [You have discovered Norwood: Forest of Rebels.]

  The screen faded in to show a trail through dense woodland. Stan walked along past colorful, slightly cartoonish oaks and cedars that were marked only with scraps of ribbon. The woods were thick enough that he suspected it wasn't even possible to leave this path without meeting an invisible wall. Soon, a glint of highlighting marked someone in a hidden blind above him. Stan heard a noise and hopped back just as someone called out, "Halt! Who goes there?"

  Davis was somewhere to the right, saying, "Let him in."

  Stan looked around and his Inspect highlighting showed him a hidden door covered in vines. It creaked open and he went through, ready to draw his hammer.

  He stumbled down a slope. Here in a bowl-shaped clearing, maybe a crater, was a forest village. It blended in even without the many trunks and branches sheltering the huts and woven Indian-style longhouses.

  Davis was there, drawn not as the talking animal he'd been in the Isles but as a human who happened to have bunny ears and a tail and a few other lapine signs. He waved to Stan and addressed the squirrel-tailed sentry who hopped down from the trees. "This here is 'Tin', passing by from Gerrick's Boon. He asked to tag along."

  "He might be a spy!"

  A burly man with badger markings trotted up from a house built into a hollow tree. "Not everybody is a spy. Come on, Davis, let's get you and your friend into the meeting room."

  Stan looked the others over. The suspicious squirrel was marked as a Tier-II AI and the badger a Tier-III person, though it didn't say human or what. The guard was probably just there to play a boring NPC role. Stan followed Davis' lead.

  A private message came from Davis as text: [Try to play along, "Tin".]

  They descended into a basement in the roots of a redwood. There was a crude round table here with half a dozen more members of the zoo, led by a fox with a little crown. Stan finally thought to switch out of first-person camera mode and saw that he was now sporting a fuzzy ringed tail and grey pointed ears. When in Rome, he thought. Everybody showed up as Tier-III except a hawk girl.

  The fox prince stood up, shorter than everybody but the bird, and said, "Welcome, travelers. What news from the outside?"

  Davis lowered his ears. "It's dangerous on the road this week. Looks like the Empire is in a tizzy looking for something."

  "I knew it!" The prince slapped the table, startling the others. "They must have finally gotten a lead on the Star Crystal's location."

  A conversation began about the Star Crystal and the Empire's goon patrols and this heroic band of rebels serving Prince Vincent D'Or, rightful heir to something or other. Stan had trouble following it. A system window popped up saying, [Want the backstory?] but he clicked No. He sat at his desk with his head on his arms, and his character copied the motion.

  "Are you bored?" asked the prince.

  "I... It's just so overwhelming," Stan said. "How can I help?"

  "Is that why you're here? To donate your supplies to the cause?"

  "I was hoping to trade." Stan's character hefted his backpack. The design had changed to something exaggerated to make it look stuffed with scrolls and camping gear.

  The hawk-girl said, "Trade? You do know we're a refugee camp, right? We don't have much."

  The fox scowled and went back to chattering with Davis and the others about how So-and-so's betrayal jeopardized their plan to strike a blow against the Empire's dragon-bone mine. Stan was left out of the conversation as surely as if he'd been shown the door. They didn't want his trade items.

  But... he was in a group of players caught up in a game of their own, and they wanted something. Attention, an audience.

  Stan spoke up during a lull. "You said that you're trying to disrupt the dragon-bone mining. What for?"

  The rebels fell all over themselves explaining. They let him ask questions to draw out details about their battle with bio-mechanical monsters and magic and this one time the prince was trapped in another dimension. After a boisterous argument about whether to raid an abandoned factory full of monsters, the prince said, "Well, Tin, we haven't got gold but maybe you can visit our alchemist. He should be awake about now, and might be able to help you."

  "Might be a good idea," said Davis.

  Something beeped. Stan startled and found that his Slab had been trying to get his attention, saying that it was dinnertime and there was a video to watch. Stan groaned and said into the Talisman, "Would it be all right to rest for an hour or two, your majesty?"

  The prince's ears perked up. "Yes, that works out well. Go to the western shed. Davis, will you show him?"

  Davis led Stan outside while the others continued their conference. The bunny said, "I see you picked up some practice in pretending to care."

  Stan scratched his head and said, "Heh, yeah." He blinked. "I just realized this is one of the worlds I got invited to when I started playing."

  How different that would have been! He could have been caught up in whatever silly role-playing was happening here, instead of learning things.

  Davis said, "Really? Then the Lady thought you might enjoy acting. I am something of an actor myself." He thumped one foot and said, "Good with the jumping stunts especially."

  "I watched the cartoon. It's pretty funny. So, um, I got a quest to shake hands with an AI in the Isles." It didn't seem right to connive a handshake out of this guy without explaining why.

  "And what magical doodad does that get you?"

  "An Anchor Stone, for building a proper ship."

  Davis looked around the forest village. "Ludo and I don't see eye to eye on everything. I reckon she maneuvered you into meeting me for a reason. You know we're both younger than you, right? Not these ancient fonts of wisdom that you ought to go sniveling in obedience to?"

  It was strange to think of himself as being older than Ludo. It wasn't really true, though; the AI had seen more, had lived thousands of lives at once and seen more than most actual humans. Stan said, "I'm pretty sure Ludo has a plan, but it might just be to get me exploring and meeting people."

  "For now. Then come the little favors."

  "I'm well into that."

  Davis laughed and thumped one foot on the ground again. "As long as you know what hole you're jumping into, I reckon it's okay. Now get yourself to the shack yonder on the left so you can go do whatever Outer Realm business you've got. But along the way..." A silent text box popped up. [Sneak past the guard and go into that root basement, then free the prisoner.]

  "What? Really?"

  "Ssh. This here is a plot twist; the prince thought it up while you were yakking."

  "The prince wants me to --"

  "Yes sir, it's a fine town!" Davis said as he led Stan along toward his sleeping place. They'd just passed by a wolf lady who was looking suspiciously at them.

  Stan glanced at the wolf and saw she was another Tier-II character. He murmured, "How many of them are real?"

  "All of them," said Davis. He added by text, [In here the players meet at certain times, and at other hours they're played by NPCs or asleep.]

  There was a strange symmetry in that. Some NPCs had a brighter mind looking in on them to tweak their behavior, and some human-controlled characters had NPCs standing by to steer them while their humans were away. That was vaguely troubling, but Stan had other things to think about. He thanked Davis, then said, "How about that handshake? Please."

  The rabbit tilted his head, looked Stan over, then said, "Yeah, all right." He offered his hand.

  Stan shook it, but nothing happened. He cursed. "I think it has to be while I'm in the Isles. I'm sorry; can we meet later? I need to... do things, and rest."

  "I aim to please," Davis said, and sauntered off.

  The Slab was still buzzing; it was time to get going. Stan headed toward the basement Davis had pointed out, and found a single fox-eared guard sleeping upright with a helmet on his face. A wooden cage held a sullen human in a lab coat.

&nb
sp; Stan pulled an obvious keyring off the guard's belt, shushed the prisoner, and unlocked his cage. The man chuckled and said, "Finally. Did the Thaw send you?"

  "Just a friend," Stan said. He was pretty sure this guy was a villain, judging from his lightning-bolt eyebrows, but releasing him was part of somebody else's plotline. "Go."

  Once the man had crept out of sight, Stan returned the keys and went to the shed the prince had mentioned. It was full of barrels and had a cot tucked away. Good enough to justify having him sleep instead of making an NPC mind take over for him. He used the bed, glanced thoughtfully at the barrels -- something he hadn't tried crafting yet -- and logged out.

  * * *

  In the Community dining room, the dinner film had already started. It was one of those dreary training videos about teamwork, thinly veiled as a drama about superheroes. Stan recognized some of the actors from similar shows.

  He joined Mina and Eddie, who were already nibbling fake-bacon sandwiches. "How are your applications going?" Mina asked.

  "I started filling out the forms." He'd looked into the state college system and a couple of trade schools, but it was mostly Mina's urging that kept him going. None really appealed to him.

  Eddie said, "You're going to need Hal's recommendation for anything good."

  Stan lost his appetite and focused on the film for a bit. He'd skipped over the recommendations section of the admissions and scholarship forms. Without the Baron saying he was a good boy, which he'd only do with obvious reluctance, he had no authority figures to vouch for him. That meant it'd be tough to get a free ride. Without a merit scholarship, he'd need the universal scholarship funding, the kind everyone had a right to. The price was several more years of government-directed service.

  Stan summarized with a single spoken word, which made Mina blush. She said, "Ssh. You're just now figuring that out?"

  "I didn't care until lately. And then I was focused on doing a good job, not the paperwork."

  The video's superheroes solved a friendship problem while Stan and his friends ignored them. Eddie chuckled. "You know, I've seen you putting so much effort into that game that I can believe you totally missed that part."