The Starfighter Invitation

40 fun and profit

"Lesson number one: don’t go in the big hole," Silent observed, stretching.

"And more zero-G practice," Nova added. "I’ll see if I can find other Challenges that use those sleds. We can try a few out before or after going on with the gauntlet series."

"That was a little like the way I ping-ponged through the first stage of the gauntlet," I said. "The shield rebound in zero gravity is even worse."

"They could have survived that if they hadn’t used their shields," TALiSON pointed out. "They caused all those metal fragments to start bouncing around."

"Next group that goes will definitely try a different way in," Silent said. He smiled comfortably at Nova. "Wish we didn’t have these meetings. I want to get through the gauntlet and get up there right now."

"How long until you have to log?" she asked.

"Less than an hour, game-time. Not enough for any Challenges." He eyed his empty drinking bulb ruefully. "Well, not with my head swimming. I hope it’s true there’s no after-effects from this when you log, because right now I don’t have enough in me to even scroll through lists to work out what to try."

"Let’s walk then," Nova said, standing. "This music makes me restless."

I waved a hand to indicate my disinterest in walking, and TALiSON simply smiled benignly, and waited until they’d walked off to say: "I sense a hook-up."

"I guess?" I said, not having noticed any by-play. I frowned. "I hope my group for this gauntlet doesn’t fall apart."

"Silent’s too laid-back to get into arguments," Far said. "What’s this Nova like?"

"All business so far." Though I wondered whether she’d come here in an older-looking modal with Silent in mind. "Not uptight about winning, but focused."

"Do Silent good to get a little tangled, no matter how it turns out," Far said. "He’s been positively monkish since his wife died."

I blinked, because Silent had been a lone traveller through world capitals for as long as I’d been in the guild, and I’d joined when I was eighteen. But poking and prodding at my guildies' backgrounds had never been my style.

"The amount of sex going on in this game is going to keep divorce courts occupied for years," TALiSON said.

"It’ll save as many marriages as it fucks up," Far said. "Swap and change bodies, roleplay any part, try any combination of people being together while still technically being monogamous. And the singles scene is off the wall, beyond even what I saw in the Seventies, especially in the Challenges that don’t use your Core Unit. Safe. Anonymous. Consequence free."

"My grandmother plays this game," I said, after a pause.

"Point," Far said. "Between the potential for accidental incest, and the lack of age range guides outside under/over eighteen, I have to admit I’ve been staying away from players. No way I want to tangle with someone not even twenty."

"My Cycog promised to give me a heads-up if I started flirting with someone on my known issues list," TALiSON said. "But I think it’s safer to stick with NPCs—and they’re usually more interesting."

"But all the NPCs are controlled by what is probably a handful of Cycogs," I said. "And they seem to think Bio sex lives mild entertainment."

"Better than a chore, I suppose," Far said, chuckling.

"Aren’t you worried that you’ll end up caring about someone who isn’t real?"

"Hey, I’m a known die-hard devotee of Alistair," Far said. "Not to mention Fenris. And Garrus. And, whew, way too many other romanceable NPCs. Hasn’t hurt me yet."

"This is so much more than choosing options from a dialogue wheel," I said.

"Tell me about it! Do you know how hard it is to be witty when you have to make up your own clever comments?" TALiSON grimaced. "I don’t know how much it would even hurt to buy into game romance, to believe the pretty speeches aren’t scripted, pretend they’re not handed out to anyone who figures out the correct response. With more complex virtual NPCs—think what it means for sex education. Safe experimentation."

"If you trust Ryzonart."

TALiSON shrugged. "We’re already trusting them with our heads. And possibly our souls. Why not our awkward exchanges of fluids?"

"You mean we can’t use this game without wholly investing in it?"

"Even if we take the steal a ship option, we’d still be in Ryzonart’s game. And if Ryzonart is truly run by Cycogs…"

"We always circle back to why they’re doing this."

"And whether we’re coming up to some dramatic red pill/blue pill choice?" Far said. "Are we, lounging here unsure of our ability to stand, actually in an outright battle for our souls? That’s what lan is, after all: human souls commodified. Spiritual workhorses."

"Chocobos," I muttered.

"There’s nothing to suggest you have to give up your soul," TALiSON objected. "Cycogs encourage Bios to get stronger, but they’re not actually taking souls away. Well, unless they are, of course. But if The Synergis is as presented, I don’t think there’s many who’d say no to a quick trip to the future, or whatever the heck is Ryzonart’s end game."

"Even though humans aren’t in charge? Or have any real representational vote?" I asked.

"I’ve never been in charge," TALiSON said. "And lately, y’know, I don’t think voting has taken us good places. I keep pushing to know the bad side of The Synergis, and I keep getting descriptions of Different From Now, but the scale is tilted way toward Better Than Here."

"Not to mention you can always bugger off to an Enclave if you absolutely have to be in charge," Far said.

"Unless it was an Enclave-for-one, I wouldn’t be in charge there either," TALiSON said, with a touch of melancholy. She looked thoughtfully at the net now empty of drinking bulbs. "Help me up, Far. I’m not dressed for sleeping in a park."

There was a general drift for exits, or a network of sleeping nooks built into the back of the terraced area. I cautiously tested my legs, and found myself unexpectedly steady.

"Is this some special kind of alcohol that makes me drunk and not-drunk at the same time?" I asked Dio, who had returned to circle my head.

[[You aren’t drunk. Not the Outside you. The simulation can give you numerous experiences, but can’t change the chemistry underlying those experiences. And you were nursing those drinks.]]

Because I didn’t like being drunk in public, yet felt like I’d gone over my usual limit. Making my careful way back to the nearest Pod station, I settled myself down for a contemplative tour to the farthest end of the enormous biohabitat. A trace of the same melancholy that had touched TALiSON seemed to be shadowing me, and I didn’t particularly want to do anything but look about me and think. Thankfully Dio had fallen back to ter usual silence.

Of course, Dio was a Construct at least some of the time, and whoever was pretending to be tem appeared to have plenty of other things to do. An actual personal Cycog might well be considerably more annoying.

Eventually, feeling less vague, I began a few tentative searches for suitable Challenges, and then amused myself looking up my Oma.

At first, I simply rejected what I saw. Then white fury turned me to fire, and almost immediately burned away in sick shame. I worked on breathing, telling myself how stupid my reaction had been. So my Oma, who had no interest in gaming, barely knew how to turn a computer on, and had started the game after me…was better than me.

Rank Nine.

She certainly had a strong enough will. Lan training had probably come quite easy. It was an excellent thing that she was doing well in a game that would give her relief from the arthritis that had limited her far too young.

Rank Nine.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t force myself to be pleased for her. I tried, very hard, but my Oma had always made me feel such a failure in all the things she considered important, and I couldn’t just put that aside and be happy she’d effortlessly surpassed me at something that mattered to me.

[[You should convert some lux points.]]

"What?" I’d entirely forgotten Dio, and had to be glad te wasn’t commenting on my varying pulse rate. "I only have a couple left after putting in for that party."

[[Convert credits for lux points.]]

"I don’t think I’ve earned any…oh, that’s the royalty payment for the images, isn’t it? I thought that went into real-world money."

[[You have the option for either. Conversion can be accessed in-game through the [Status] menu.]]

"Hm." I searched under [Status], suspicious about why Dio had suddenly piped up, and then I said: "Oh."

I should have really taken the hint when I personally met two different people wearing my patches. Factoring in the millions of DS players, this was a clear sign.

"Dio. How many lux points would it cost to go to a different solar system?"

[[Far less than that.]]

"Return trip?"

[[Still less than that.]]

"Could I do that and be back in time to meet up for the next stage of the gauntlet?"

[[Technically. Most of your time would be taken up in leaving and returning to Mars. You wouldn’t have time to visit a planet, and would need to choose from imminent departures to high-traffic systems in order to be sure of return passage.]]

"Are there any imminent departures to high-traffic systems? Uh, that I could reach via a shuttle?"

[[Two. Choose between [Iridianis] and [Ka Bol Ka Fan].]]

"I’ll have the one with the most spectacular orbital views."

[[Very well. Negotiating on your behalf.]]

Relieved I wasn’t expected to talk my way onto a ship—I hated bargaining—I searched for the nearest shuttle service and redirected my Pod, but then realised leaving the transport ship once it reached the new system might be complicated without my Snug.

[[I’ve directed The Hare to dock with the Orafa,]] Dio told me. [[So long as you return within the day, you won’t lose your slot at Valles Marineris.]]

"That’s great."

I considered the floating mote of light drifting around the Pod, fully aware that I had been thoroughly distracted, without any intrusive questions asked, or even some pointed comments about how many lux points I was willing to spend, just so I could go somewhere other players hadn’t been first.

One of the reasons I’d stuck with Corpse Light was they left me alone. They were flexible enough to let me meander along almost as a solo player, and then welcome me when I felt like going all-in on guild activities. None of them knew me in real life, none of them knew I had a collection of participation trophies from running, had walked away from my design career, was in danger of hyper-ventilating in crowds, and cramped up if someone waved wheat flour in my general direction.

Dio—if te really was an AI, I wouldn’t be surprised if te knew all of those things. But for the first time I didn’t feel a thread of resentment for the interference of a personal alien overlord.

"Thank you, Dio," I said quietly, and te changed colour, but didn’t otherwise respond.