Virtual Horizon Page 3

  "How about a rope, then?"

  They returned to the shipwreck and salvaged a coil of rope. At the gorge, Paul levered a boulder up just enough to anchor one end of the rope, then coaxed Nocturne to fly across with the other end and wedge that securely in a tree.

  The gorge had a bottomless pit below, moaning with wind. Pebbles skittered down from either side. Paul hesitated and then noticed a grip-strength meter. He tapped furiously to scoot across and crawl onto safe ground again.

  [Skill gain: Mechanics 1.]

  Nocturne said, "Let me pry that rope loose and we can move on. Or do you want to leave it?"

  "We're done visiting the wreck, I think. Grab the rope. What skills do you have?"

  "Skills? I can fly a little, and I guess, fight. I don't remember much else."

  They explored deeper into the forest, to where several blue fruits stood out above them. Since Nocturne couldn't safely fly into the thick branches, Paul tried climbing. He failed and hurt himself twice trying to pull himself up through the vertical maze.

  "Maybe if you were smaller," Nocturne said.

  "It looks like I only get killed if I take three major wounds, and have a chance to keep going even with more. I've only got one and two minors right now; I'll try a little more." This time he went slowly and carefully, pausing to rest and recover that grip meter. The fruit drew into reach. He went one branch higher to make snatching it easier. He grabbed the thing, then heard his perch cracking. He cursed and dropped one branch down just in time.

  Back on the ground, he held out the fist-sized shiny fruit and said, "Inspect it?"

  "Why are you asking me?" Nocturne said. "Looks tasty though."

  Text told him, [Unknown fruit.]

  Short of knowing it was magical or something, it was just an excuse to explore and develop some skills. Paul said, "You can have it, then."

  A door opened behind him, startling him. Oh, right; Simon.

  "That game again," said Simon.

  Paul felt guilty for playing it in front of Simon after it had made that remark about death. "You might like it."

  "Not right now. I have studying to do. I can't wait to be done with the service years, you know? I want to live on the beach and surf."

  Paul nodded. "I need to fix some tools before dinner. See you." He saved his game and hesitated, finger hovering over the [Quit] button. He half expected it to object or talk to him, but it behaved like any ordinary game. Today.

  * * *

  Paul was, with great reluctance, working downtown at the homeless shelter again. Helena had all but ordered him to stick with it. Today he was puzzled. An e-mail had come from an account at the game's domain, saying, [Quest: Meals and Wheels. Please be nice to the man in this picture, then find him at about 1500 in the city park. Lend him your bike for a day. Reply if you accept.] He did. He'd been busy enough that he'd barely played the video game for days, but it was contacting him anyway.

  Eventually the man trudged into the soup kitchen. He was barely recognizable compared to the clean-cut, professorial figure in the photo. What disaster had given him those sunken, haunted eyes and those burns disfiguring his cheek and hands? Still, it was the same man. Paul gave him the usual smile and greeting he used to cheer people up when they weren't trying to shoot anybody, then said, "You look like you need more than lunch."

  The haunted man met Paul's gaze. "More than anyone can give, kid."

  "You're somebody important, I bet."

  He coughed. "Was. Know what a neurotransmitter is? I worked with 'em. Studying memory."

  Paul dished out lasagna. He was no therapist. "Want to talk about it?"

  The man sighed, taking the food. "Nah. I've lost everything, from the bike to the house to the wife. But thanks. The people here last week only looked at me like a druggie. Today's been strange."

  Paul nodded. "If you change your mind, I'm here most Sundays."

  After the lunch shift Paul loitered in town, mailing a postcard to his mom. (She liked the old-fashioned things.) He showed up in the park, a sandlot where kids were playing soccer. A bum's nest was stashed behind a shed where the ever-present cameras wouldn't see it. Paul stepped off of his bicycle and frowned. The lump of blankets and cardboard had a familiar scarred hand sticking out.

  A middle-aged woman jogged by, then stopped. "You don't look like you need my hangover remedy."

  "Huh?"

  She held out a bottle. "I'm supposed to take this here."

  A groan came from the blankets, and the man sat up, smelling of whiskey. "You again? And who're you?"

  Paul said, "I thought you might be here, and you mentioned losing your bike. Want to borrow mine?"

  The woman added, "Drink this. It'll pull the alcohol out and rehydrate you."

  "Are you stalking me?" asked the homeless man, looking at the two intruders.

  Then a third guy showed up with a picnic basket and a guitar.

  Paul's target stared, then laughed. "I should've known. This morning I got free coffee and a pamphlet about counseling, then heard my favorite song on the radio. None of you woke up deciding to help some pathetic stranger, did you? You play that game."

  Paul, the guitarist and the lady shared a guilty look. Paul said, "It's true. Ludo asked me to be here." The others nodded.

  The bum cursed. "I don't know whether to be mad or flattered."

  The woman said, "This is beyond my instructions, but why don't you come to my gym? Some exercise always cheers me up, and there are showers."

  Paul said, "I can help with the paperwork for the homeless shelter. I'm guessing one of you two can give me a ride home if I lend him my bike?"

  The guitarist raised his hand. "Let's eat, first."

  The homeless man said, "She's not going to leave me alone, is she?" He sighed. "Thank all of you. It's been too long since anybody's cared."

  * * *

  "What was that about?" Paul asked Ludo, sitting outside with his computer on a warm night.

  Ludo said, "He was probably going to kill himself. Instead, I think he'll live to help me with a fun side project. Good work."

  Paul whistled. "This is what you do?"

  Ludo smiled. "My players are starting to do this sort of thing, around the world."

  "Why pick me? What I did was tiny."

  "You did something small. So, I'll trust you with more."

  * * *

  He didn't play again until the next day. He used it as an incentive for himself: Help cook lunch, then get through the mandatory news discussion time, then check on those irrigation valves, and after all that, gaming.

  Another quest e-mail arrived, saying, [Introductions: Introduce Thousand Tales to a fellow Community resident! Reward: Silver Shilling.]

  Paul snorted. This was a more familiar kind of marketing. He thought about the other people living here who played video games. Helena herself was one. While doing his chores he considered who to talk to, then realized something. It'd be best to find not just a gamer, but someone who might have actual skills and be interested in Ludo's quests.

  "Hey, Melissa," he said in the Community's lunchroom. "Do you play games at all?"

  A fidgety, ponytailed girl looked up from reading something on a tablet, while eating a salad they'd all helped grow. "Not really. I hear the Community system is rolling out educational games next year though. Been looking at the numbers for where the funding's going."

  "That's kind of what I wanted to talk about. Your money skill, I mean." Melissa had volunteered to teach the Community a few lessons about saving and investing, making her a local celebrity. Baron Helena had stepped in to interrupt when the girl started to quote Adam Smith, a "hate speech figure" according to Helena. Melissa had been hilariously sarcastic ever since, whenever she could slip a remark in under the supervisor's upturned nose.

  "Why; are you having problems?" Melissa said.

  "I'm fine. Helena made me sign up for a game called Thousand Tales, and --"

  "And it has viral marketing, I be
t."

  Paul grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. But it's unusual and you might like it. Tell the AI that I said you could have my quest reward."

  Melissa tapped at her salad bowl with her fork, looking thoughtful. "What you did the other day was badass, by the way. The Baron wrote it up as a 'discipline problem' but the truth's going around."

  * * *

  When he finally got to play, it was in a quiet corner of the lounge. He had headphones on to drown out some students chattering and watching the week's required educational show.

  Where he'd left off, he and Nocturne had found a human village. It didn't have much to offer, but by poking around they'd met a few craftsmen who offered to teach him or his "pet" various skills. There was a quest to kill a dangerous boar in the area, another to hunt deer, and more to simply do work in the fields or fix up a water-powered mill.

  They tapped a large blue crystal that spun and hovered in the village's generic shrine. It told them, [Save point set.] The game had warned that from now on, he risked losing some progress if he randomly logged out from anywhere.

  "What do you want to do today?" asked Nocturne.

  Paul hefted the simple wooden club he'd made. Now that he didn't have the threat of Helena judging him, he could fight if he wanted to. "Let's go after the deer first; I'm not ready for scary pigs."

  They stalked through the forest and searched for hoofprints and signs of game trails. Soon they spotted the deer and double-teamed it, with Paul charging headlong. He drove the beast right into Nocturne's pouncing range. Mercilessly she slashed it and took it down in a quick, violent exchange.

  She sat up, cleaning traces of blood from her talons. The dead animal wasn't nearly as gory as a real kill would probably be, not that Paul knew firsthand. Just red slash marks for the two major wounds it took.

  Am I being judged for my reaction to that? he asked himself. It didn't matter, so long as he wasn't being told on. He said, "Nice job. I think you're supposed to do that as quickly as possible."

  "Why's that?" She looked longingly at the fresh meat, but they'd promised to deliver it to the villagers.

  "The animals have minds, sort of. Real hunters try not to hurt and scare them for longer than they need to."

  The two of them carted the deer back to town and traded it for a wooden shield for Paul. "I'll try the mill repair next," Paul said. He checked his stats:

  [Paul

  PRIVATE INFO

  Account type: Standard

  Body: Human

  Main Skills: Survival 2, Mechanics 1, Melee 1

  Stats: Power 1, Speed 0, Wit 0, Knowledge 1, Charisma 0, Spirit 0

  Save Point: Arlo Village

  PUBLIC INFO

  Note: Newcomer. Say hello!

  Class: None]

  The public note struck him as strange, since he hadn't knowingly interacted with other players yet. So far it'd been a single-player game.

  Thousand Tales had taken a different design path than typical online games. One of the main selling points was that you had a personal AI storyteller for yourself and your friends, with a unique world that revolved around you. That made more sense than telling every single player he was the Chosen One, while playing the same quests on the same map. But the players could interact; he just hadn't done that yet.

  Also... "Body, human," Paul said. "So there's an option to be something else?"

  "Huh?" said Nocturne.

  "Sorry; this is a rules question." He opened a help menu and asked again.

  A conversation screen popped up and showed Ludo, in a treasure hoard of glowing hats and armor and jewelry. "I started you off simple, figuring you'd pick the blandest option."

  "Yeah. But now I don't need to. What are my choices? Elves and dwarves?"

  "Anything that would fit into fantasy -- or not, if you want to transpose this whole game to a space world or something. Also, you may reconfigure your sidekick." Icons flashed to show various options.

  There was a menu with pre-designed character models and selectors for different sizes and colors, plus more freeform shaping tools. Elves and the like were an option, in many different flavors. He tapped various options and saw a dragon, a centaur, a mermaid, a stone golem, a wolf-man. Ooh, he could make a white wolf with barbarian armor on two legs or four, or a wizard ninja, or...

  Somebody poked his shoulder. "Hey, action hero. Want some spare wings?" One of the older students offered him a plate of synthetic barbecue chicken. The group had finished their movie and were just leaving.

  "Thanks," he said, and took some. He talked a little about tomorrow's work on the greenhouse, then said good night.

  Back in the game he said, "Well, I've got wings beside me. How about playing as a griffin, myself?"

  "Certainly. Pick a design if you like... And then raid the Temple of Change north of the village."

  Paul laughed; he'd just gotten another quest to justify the character swap. He put some effort into the design, picking a graceful feline body with a hawk's brown wings and a beak with only a hint of a wicked predator hook. He went with triangular, fuzzy ears similar to what Nocturne had. Now that he was thinking about it, he flipped over to Nocturne's design screen and redrew her. For such a name, she ought to have... there. Black feathers and beak like a raven's, shining gold eyes, and fur in a deep blue like a night sky.

  When he was satisfied, he accepted both designs. The interface slid away, leaving him back in the village with a suddenly redesigned Nocturne.

  "I feel funny," she said, looking herself over.

  "You look good. Hey, I've heard there's a temple north of here. Want to explore it?"

  "Sure."

  He checked the clock, and yawned. "For the moment let's just try that mill quest, though."

  The mill was more complicated than it had any right to be for such a small building. A bunch of rods and wooden gears clad in iron connected a waterwheel to a grindstone. Nocturne watched curiously as Paul looked it all over. "Here's your problem," Paul told the anxious miller. "Why'd you stick this third gear here?"

  "I thought it'd make the rods turn faster."

  "It jams the whole thing; see how they push against each other? If you want a faster spin you need a smaller gear here, and that means less force."

  [You obviously know the basics! Skill gain: Mechanics 2.]

  Installing a new clockwork system was tricky, requiring a mix of actual planning and measurement with use of the interface for 3D movements. Paul quickly saw he was dealing with a sort of machine design program he could apply to real-world hardware. When he popped the right rods and gears into place, the mill whirred to life again, and a victory jingle played.

  "Nice," he said, and accepted an item as his reward. [Small Pack: +25 carrying capacity above your base 100. "Surprise your enemies with an extra dagger, or cookies."]

  He headed back to the town's save crystal and tapped it. "I guess I should say good night to you," he told Nocturne.

  "But it's still day." In her world, it was.

  He grinned. "Good day, then!"

  * * *

  Next session, they made their way to the temple, fleeing from that killer boar and harvesting berries along the way. They delved into the ruins and got through the first three rooms. Paul had to sign out again for the evening, so he went back and pinged the save crystal that hovered by the entrance. "Sorry, Noc; I need to go. But I'll figure out a way past that dart trap for next time."

  The dark griffin tilted her head. "I'm still not sure what you mean by leaving."

  "Don't worry about it. See you soon."

  * * *

  He next logged in with an idea. He'd been studying a physics textbook, in fact the same one that Linda had used last fall. Now he made his way back into the temple, to face a room lit by the river of magma flowing through it. A huge door on the far wall looked like a closed drawbridge.

  He said, "We need to pull the chain over there to drop the bridge, without setting off the dart trap yet again."

  "
So many darts," moaned Nocturne, flexing her bandaged wing. Minor wounds went away at the end of a "scene", Paul had learned. Major ones took medical treatment, magic they didn't have, or in-game time. The best he'd been able to do was patch her up to speed the healing process, and with no Medicine skill it didn't help much.

  Paul wanted to see the griffin girl happy, now that she'd forgiven him for the time he seemingly killed her. It was easy to forget Nocturne was just a puppet being controlled by Ludo. He said, "Sorry. I got the angle wrong last time, but I redid the numbers."

  His Knowledge stat and Mechanics skill helped him here by showing him what were supposedly near-exact lengths and angles for the physics problem he faced. He probably could've brute-forced this temple trap by breaking the dart-shooters or getting Nocturne to wedge the drawbridge open, but solving it intelligently was more fun.

  Nocturne poked one of the trapped floor tiles suspiciously with her raven-clawed forefeet. A dart whooshed out from a hidden hole, and she easily dodged it from painful experience. Nocturne said, "You're a puppet. I'm only seeing a fake human controlled by some tentacled monstrosity from another dimension."

  "Tentacles? Where did you get that idea?"

  "I've read books," she said, with a defensive sweep of her feather-edged tail. Paul had added the tail feathers for an attempt at realism.

  "I thought you didn't remember anything before you met me. Yet you know of Lovecraft."

  Nocturne raised a talon and opened her beak to object, then paused. "Huh."

  Paul chuckled, perversely glad to have tripped up the gamemaster in an inconsistency. "Let me apply my mysterious skills to this drawbridge." He consulted his notes and the physics textbook. When he looked at the game again, his character had sat down in a silly meditative pose, and was tipped over sideways.

  "Couldn't resist," said Nocturne.

  "Heh." Paul pushed the Command button, to speak out of character and describe a complicated action. "I loop the rope over that ledge, the second from the right."

  A targeting symbol appeared, wobbling, and he guided it with some difficulty so that he could throw. The rope landed perfectly and wrapped itself into place; he'd turned a scavenged iron trinket into an improvised grappling hook. A happy chime sounded.