He’s pretty good for an 8-year-old barbarian. Not better than me, of course. I played Pong when I was younger than he is, back when it was “the world’s first video game”, and I played it with a single-minded zeal that caused more than one argument with my mom. This holographic version is 3D Pong, an unthinkable leap into sci-fi that would have felt more like magic than technology to kid-sized me.
Middle-aged me is fixated on the idea that I’m inside a video game… playing another game. I can’t quite wrap my head around that. Games within games.
I prefer Pong.
I let Hank win the next three sets. We’ve got plenty of time to kill.
Raiding the biggest RiftElite Quest in the galaxy is going to take all eight of us. Right now, the Night Shift is all offline, getting their rest or whatever they have to do to meet up for the same 10-hour window. Until then, we’re in LivingLegend Time Out.
Travel in the game doesn’t take long; RiftBorn might lose players if it did, but the Night Shift made sure to log out while we were in hyperspace, the brief period when RiftBorn would normally load the next section of the game. Now Hank, Pepper, and I are riding in the transition screen. Our destination can’t arrive until the Night Shift does.
For the first time since entering the game, I’m in what passes as a saferoom. Outside, there’s just a looping animation of stars shooting past us like we’re travelling.
We may not be moving, but I feel like I’m getting somewhere. I check the LivingLegends Leaderboard again, still unable to believe I’m in the Top Ten.
LivingLegend Leaderboard — ? VSC Hype Score
Rik Van Otterdik — ?1,366,500
PEPPER* — ?1,190,750
SinnaPomme — ?635,990
JimBones — ?600,120
Cowabunga — ?531,200
Marteen K — ?251,800
DDD — ?191,830
Tankpocalypse Rex — ?165,450
Stroyk the Slayer — ?110,220
Fancy Marjoram — ?91,700
Rik Van Otterdik. I gotta meet that guy.
Pepper is still marked with an asterisk, like Roger Maris when he beat Babe Ruth’s record. But there’s no indication of what the asterisk means. My guess is the programmers still don’t know how to classify her.
But I’m there too, in seventh place with two hundred thousand dollars, give or take. Not bad for 35 days of work. There may be a light at the end of this HumanAsset tunnel.
“Which looks better?” Hank raises his massive weapons. “You think I should use my guns or my axe?”
“I think you should use your head.”
He hefts the weapons. “But seriously.”
“Seriously, you can’t just jump in and start wailing on mobs, Hank, you need to be safer abou—”
“Ughh!” He storms away through the HoloPong. He’s been like this for the last hour; the kid is grouchy from being cooped up so long. “Every time! Can’t you just stop telling me what to do, like you’re my dad?! You’re always telling me to be safe! I mean, look at me!” He flexes armadillo-sized muscles. “I’m too cracked to get hurt. Never even been below 30% Health, not once.”
Ugh. Every time. I’m sick of fighting this kid, trying to protect him from himself. I glance out the window and, even through the streaking stars of hyperspace, I see the RiftStorm rising, an inevitable maelstrom eating its way across the void, 5 days away from destroying the galaxy, and us with it. “Have you ever seen a LivingLegend lose all 3 hearts?”
“No. But I know what it means.” Hank snorts. “Game over.”
I don’t know if the kid really understands what he’s saying. Part of me thinks he does, that he knows the stakes are life and death. Another part of me thinks he’s eight. I give up. If Hank knows the truth, there’s no point in reminding him; if he doesn’t, I won’t be the one to drop that bomb on him. “Just be careful.”
We’re apparently done with Pong, so I drop to the floor and begin my push-up regimen. I found out I get a Strength bonus from working out; my Strength isn’t great, but my Stamina is. I can get past three hundred push-ups before I get tired, and I play a game to see if I can beat my last record.
“I need more Skins.” Hank poses as he flips through his options, changing his armor color, his hairstyle, and his pants. “I want to look fire. I want to look drippy,
“Drippy.” I snort as I continue my push-ups. “Drippy means gross and wet. I mean, I get it, to you, drippy means cool or bling or whatever, but the translation is hinky as hell.”
“Hinky?”
“Jacked. Effed up.”
“Fine, Dusty Dork Dave,” he grumps. “I want to look cool.”
“To who?”
“To everybody.” Hank spreads his hands at the universe. “Like a basketball player. Or a pop star. Goated.”
“Goated. There’s another one. You’re going to be a drippy goat.” Hank laughs. Finally. I’m getting him to relax. The kid has too much pent-up boy energy. He gets down on the floor to join me doing push-ups. “Forget cool, kid. Cool fades fast, trust me. Besides, not everything’s about you.”
“It would be if I was goated.” He does faster push-ups than me. “I can do two hundred before you do a hundred.”
“Bet.”
“Bet.”
Another game. I beat him, barely. Both of us collapse, sweating as an alert pops up.
New Feat: Daily Driver
You completed a habit 3 days running. Buffs +1 to any skill you practice daily (caps at +25%). This buff ends when your streak does. Don’t skip leg day!
Hank pants, sweating. He smiles. “I just want to be the best.”
“You’re already the best.” I got so used to managing teenagers over the years, I forgot elementary school kids have unrealistic expectations, too. “All you see are the big heroes, the superstars, the LeBrons, the Taylor Swifts, the big moments. But not everything is a big moment, Hank. Goats get there with a bunch of little moments, with help from a lot of people you never see.”
For some reason, I think of Molly. What she gave me, what she made me. What I’ve become without her. “You want to be a goat… you need people to lift you up. People who don’t care if you drip.”
“Time for nummies!” Pepper appears with a tray. She lifts the silver lid to reveal Beef Wellington with glazed baby carrots.
“We just ate, Cabbage Patch.” Half-empty plates are still sitting on the floor from the last time she tried to feed us. “I know you need something to do, but give Beef Wellington a rest.”
“Okay! I’ll leave it here! Make sure to drink your brain juice!”
Right. My Exotic LootBox from the Holy Alfredo fight contained a tin mug tagged Drinky Thinky that’s supposed to raise my Psyche score over time. It hasn’t accomplished anything yet, but anything I drink from it tastes like a great cup of coffee, so I’m not complaining. “On it.”
“Just call if you need me!” She cheerily waddles back to her math puzzles.
Pepper is dealing with boredom in her own way. Somewhere along the way, her 7th-grade math quiz got an upgrade—she’s currently playing simultaneous games of Minesweeper and Sudoku. Her chalkboard doesn’t really look like a chalkboard anymore. Like Pepper’s math puzzles, it’s been upgraded. The marks don’t look like chalk; they’re cleaner, more digital, and all the lines are very tidy and geometric. I suspect that, with nothing else to do, she’s spent a few hours making it prettier.
I glance at my M1 Garand and wonder if I should try target practice again. Matchstick bought me a bunch of Class III ammo, and I spent a few hours inside the inflatable playing a game targeting Fixit drones, but my Riflery proficiency stalled out at 50% and I don’t feel like another round.
I call up my Cobblepot Map and check it again. When I picked our destination, I aimed the Night Shift at the biggest RiftElite star on the map, the absolute primo spot in the galaxy, a place called Xanadome Carousel. But we have no idea what the Carousel is or what the quest might be, and there’s no way to find out until we get there, nothing to plan for, nothing to prepare.
Push-up contests, Pong, Sudoku… games keep us distracted while we’re bored. And RiftBorn is the King Kong of distractions, built for the most bored generation ever. But right now I’d kill for a good book. Maybe a Steven King or a Michael Crichton, hell, even a Jack Reacher. But, as you might expect, RiftBorn doesn’t offer novels. To them, the only thing their customers need to read is a character sheet and an invoice. Books don’t have a place in a world of digital distractions. For the attention economy, books are obsolete, like me.
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I flick my map closed and stand up. “Okay. We’re all going a little stir-crazy, so why don’t we—
Bloop-Blip. “—punch that guy in the mouth, I swear…”
Rincewind blinks into existence on the deck, already in a conversation with Wahoo, who’s right behind him. “...he just stole her away, like it didn’t matter at all.”
Wahoo shakes his head. “That guy’s trash, no cap.”
“Hey guys!” Hank waves, glad to finally have someone new to talk to. “What’s going on?”
“His wingman cucked him!” Wahoo complains. “Stole his girl!”
“Hi boys!” Pepper claps. “You want some food?”
“No,” Rincewind slumps in his chair, pouting over his lost ladylove. “Is nobody else here yet?”
I check the five timezone clocks we mounted over the bridge. It’s 9:41 Saturday morning in Seoul, South Korea, 9:41 Friday evening in Toledo, Ohio. Rince and Wahoo are exactly halfway around the world from each other, and somehow totally in sync. “You’re early.”
“Yeah, I know,” Rincewind sighs. ‘I didn’t feel like hanging out in the real world.”
I don’t want to hear about girlfriend problems; I’ve got troubles of my own. “Hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. You know about magic stuff, right?”
“That’s what it says on the character sheet.”
“Can you explain Elixir to me?”
Wahoo cocks his head. “Why, you got some?”
I’ve got four, each one from a boss battle. I’ve long since memorized the description.
Trickster Elixir 4 / 5
These shimmering vials of liquid seem to shift colors when tilted, never the same shade twice. Its surface ripples as if it resists being named. Trickster Elixir will remain inert until all 5 units are fused.
“How do I fuse them?”
Rince waves his hand. “Just dump them in a bowl or a cup, it's not hard.”
“Then what?”
“You get a spell.” Rince shrugs. “RiftBorn lets everybody do a little magic. It helps keep characters unique.”
“Keeps their subscriptions going.” Wahoo chuckles.
“What spell do I get?”
“Depends. What kind do you have?”
“Trickster Elixir. Little… test tubes.”
“No, what kind of elixirs?”
“A… blue one, a green one…”
“No, what path of magic are th...” He snaps his fingers. “Right. You’re not a magic user, you wouldn’t be able to see it.” He cocks his head. “Wait, they don’t let LivingLegends see path magic?”
“I don’t even know what path magic is.” I look at Pepper. “Do you?”
“I don’t know!” Pepper smiles, completely clueless.
“That’s… weird.” Wahoo blinks at Pepper, then Rince. “Right?”
“Yeah, that’s weird. Okay, so there are a whole bunch of ways to cast spells, components, verbal keys, movements…”
“Like my Parkour Pulse.”
“Right. But they’re all magic paths. Elements, Actions, Forms, Qualities, Wildcards, whatever… and each path has a dozen sub-paths called veins. Like Push, Pull, Lift, Break, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Elixir is a magic vein. You combine a few veins and they blend into a unique spell. Alchemy.”
“So the RiftBorn magic system is… Legos.”
“Basically. Here, let me see your elixir.”
I hand over the test tubes and both wizards examine them. “That’s a 5-part spell.” Wahoo nods. “Not bad.”
Rincewind holds up one vial at a time. “You have Bind. Shadow. Echo. And Neutron.” Rincewind almost smiles. “That could be interesting.”
“I bet it’s a spell that creates a metal net!” Wahoo waggles his fingers. “Cage your enemies in darkness!”
Rince laughs. “More likely it creates a black teaspoon made out of star-metal that’s too heavy to lift. Or something that makes your belt never come off. They’re super-random. It’s not even worth guessing what it will be until you have the fifth Elixir, which can change the whole thing.”
I eye my little test tubes with a new respect. “And when I mix them?”
“You drink it.”
Wahoo grins. “Like Alice in Wonderland.”
Huh. There’s a secret part of me that really wants to cast a magic spell, but I don’t know if I want to ingest one. “You said some spells require magic words?”
“Fus Roh Dah, Wingardium Leviosa, Bippety-Boppety-Boo.”
“So if I could make somebody shut up, it would stop them from casting a verbal spell?”
“I mean, it’s not like I’m saying it into the mic, my character says it, but yeah, I guess.”
So that’s what Silencio is for. All my Hermit skills I’ve figured out myself, but I never could figure out the point of silencing someone for 30 seconds, other than the obvious. Silencio is a spell-stopper. “Cool, thanks.”
“Hey,” Rince leans in to me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, too. You’re an AI that’s officially in our party… so you have to help us if we ask, yeah? Like that’s a rule?”
LivingLegends are supposed to be augmented NPCs, and that’s how the Night Shift sees me. They also know I’ve helped them a ton, and getting into Xanadome Carousel will help them even more. They’ve been more appreciative than the RiftElite players, but I don’t like being called an AI—it’s insulting. “I’m as real as you are.”
EmpathyEngine?: Pushing Your Luck
Please stay in character. Even freeloading grinder scum should expect a seamless experience while playing RiftBorn! Thank you for ensuring that experience, and your own continued medical care, by keeping your consciousness private. We wouldn’t want any doxing!
There’s a tone in that voice that lets me know the EmpathyEngine will Icebox me if I continue flirting with the truth. Proclaiming I’m real is a no-no. “Yeah, I’ll try to help.”
“So answer me this…” Rincewind leans in conspiratorially. “Do you know the cheat codes? Or where the RiftBorn Easter Eggs are? Like, is there a list?”
I shrug. “No idea.”
“Damn.” Rincewind sags. “A friend of mine found an easter egg and got a tricked-out vehicle. An actual Star Destroyer.”
“That would be pretty cool, and I wish I knew the cheat codes, but I don’t have them. I’ll tell you anything I know.”
“How to get a girl.” Rincewind snorts.
Wahoo can’t help but laugh. “Right! Tell us that, LegendarD. I’d pay twenty respawns for that.”
“Stop using a wingman.”
They look at me, surprised. ”What?”
“The wingman, the whole Top Gun thing. It doesn’t work unless one of you is married. Or gay.” The wizards blink at me, looking stupid. “Let me guess, you’ve never seen Top Gun?”
“No, I saw it,” Rince blinks. “I just wasn’t expecting you to… answer.”
“Wingmen suck.” I fold my arms. “Guys are dogs. Your friend went after the girl you liked. The next guy probably will too. Dogs don’t share bones. What you need…” I raise my chin. “...is a wingwoman.”
“A wing...” Rincewind stammers. “...woman?”
“A girl wingman?” Wahoo shakes his head. “That wouldn’t work.”
“A thousand percent.” I nod firmly. “A guy might hype you up, but a girl will vouch for you. Help another girl trust you. And girls like trust.” The two wizards stare at me like they can’t grasp the concept. “Think about it. You go to a party, you’re already with a girl. Now the other girls know you’re pre-approved. They get interested. Your friend tells them you’re mysterious and intriguing, and all of a sudden, you’re in a conversation. If you don’t screw that up, you’ve got a date.” I spread my hands. “All because of your wingwoman.”
“That’s…” Rincewind blinks. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
“No kidding!” Wahoo nods. “Now if I only had a girl who would vouch for me.”
I grin. “That might be part of your problem.”
We all laugh at that. Wahoo gestures for me to continue. “So tell us what else you know, DDD.”
Bloop-blip. “Okay, I’m here. Is everyone else here?” Hang Ten appears, her Rune Witch skin upgrade a lavish series of colorful dresses that make her look like an upside-down flower. I can hear her gnawing on a wad of bubblegum. “I’m okay on time, right? I’m not late?”
Bloop-blip. Queen WaqWaq, the Death Sorceress of Dubai, winks into existence. Her black flowing hair curls past her bare midriff down to a pair of pink short-shorts and heels. I’m guessing she doesn’t get to dress like this at home. “It’s 5 am, I’m up, I’m up.” Something drags across her microphone, probably a blanket. “Am I last?”
“Greetings, programs!” Matchstick swaggers out of his blip, all smiles. “We all ready to stick it to the posh twats?”
“Hay! How does this ghabi get to curse?” Queen WaqWaq gripes. “I can’t say tw§t!”
“You have to stretch the a.” Matchstick grins. “RiftBorn has an American ear.”
“Twaaaat,” says WaqWaq, giggling. Hang Ten joins her. “Twaaaat.”
“Well, the girls are entertained.” Matchstick claps once. “We ready to raid the Xanadome? What are we doing, boys?”
“Getting life advice from Triple D.” Rincewind smiles. “He knows more than you think.”
“Yeah?” Matchstick lights a neon cigarette. “What do you know, Dave?”
I know what I want to say. That I’m placing my life in their hands and they damn well better act like it or Hank and I are going to die. But EmpathyEngine won’t let me tell them that. So I put on my teacher’s hat and tell them the next best thing.
“I know you’re going to win.” That gets everyone’s attention. Even Hank and Pepper look up. “You all have worked your guts out in a world where the curve is rigged, the loot is weak, in a game designed to keep you poor. That’s not winning, that’s buying your own leash.” I stand up. “But now you’ve got a real chance to grind. We’ve got 10 hours together in a RiftElite world. You’re going to make the most of it. And you’re going to come out the other side rich because you work harder than they do. That’s what I know.”
I had plenty of time to work on my Captain America speech, and I need it to work. I need the Night Shift to act like a team. I straighten and do my best football coach voice. “I know a good pack beats a lone wolf any day. I know grinders get ahead when they keep grinding. And I know this team is good enough to hit!” I pound my fist. “That!” Again. “Leaderboard!”
They cheer at that. I feel my chest swell up. I raise my voice for the grand finale. “We are going to win this damn game! We’re going to win it together! And we’re go—ooh shi§!”
I leaned on the Hyperspace button.
The game starts instantly.
Welcome Back to RiftBorn?
The World’s Greatest VVMMORPG!
“You are under arrest!”
The stars are yanked out of the universe, and we are suddenly staring at a megalithic space station ten thousand times bigger than Mister Stampy. Heavily armed destroyers and battleships race our way. A dozen mega-guns point at us.
Xanadome Carousel — RiftElite-Only Zone
A golden goddess in space larger than the fabled Mount Everest, Xanadome is made up of five concentric rings, each one a monument to greed, excess, and lust. Home of Season 2’s RiftElite MegaQuest. Think of it as the galaxy’s largest “Rob Me” sign.
“Vessel 015381G!” A computer voice crackles over our comms. “Surrender immediately! Deactivate all weapon systems, power down, and do not attempt to flee. Surrender or you will be destroyed!”
So much for Captain America. “Well f#ck.”