him. A low, rhythmic hum pulsed all around him. D_Light’s skinning software was not rendering anything, as the room was a designated dark zone-an area where no SkinWare-facilitating nanosites covered the surfaces of anything. D_Light chose a waiting bed and sat on the edge, legs dangling. The softly shifting light patterns, more entrancing than an ancient lava lamp, were as real as the low, rhythmic, pulsating sound that filled the air. Despite his best efforts, D_Light fell fast asleep.
D_Light woke with a start. “ Haw, haw, haw, ” the SeaGuy™ called out. The seagull-like head was cocked sideways, regarding D_Light with one bulging, pink eye. The torso, pelvis, and legs were those of a nude and impossibly muscular man. Tufts of white feathers interspersed with patches of curly black human hair shot out haphazardly. The ankles of the monster faded into the webbed feet of a seagull. It had great seagull wings in place of arms, which it now splayed out wide. The creature quickly waved its gigantic feathered rear end back and forth a few times, at which point it tipped up its beak and yammered out another call. “ Haw, haw, haw! ”
D_Light couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the avatar he had designed for Mother Lyra. Man, I really nailed it with this one, he thought.
“Oh, D_Light, have you any fishies for me?” Blood and orange-colored ooze streamed out of its beak, running down its mottled chest as it spoke. The voice was guttural with raspy undertones.
D_Light supposed that this bizarre reception was par for the course. Mother Lyra seemed to be one of the few nobles with enough confidence in her position and enough of a sense of humor to not take herself too seriously-or anyone else for that matter. He decided to respond in kind.
“Um, no fish, but there’s a guard out in the hall you can have.” D_Light jumped out of the waiting room bed and bowed formally to the gigantic holographic birdman. A lynx, which D_Light assumed was Mother Lyra’s familiar, stood only a few paces behind. Certainly, the familiar was projecting the holographic avatar at Lyra’s command.
With a sweeping motion of one of its wings, the seabird motioned for D_Light to proceed through the double doors ahead, doors that had apparently opened as D_Light slept. He bowed to the beast and passed through the opening into the formal entertaining room.
The entertaining room was colossal, leading D_Light to the safe conclusion that Mother Lyra must truly be a favorite of House Tesla. A nondescript man was sitting in a chair to D_Light’s left. D_Light did not recognize him, but the man’s crest indicated he was a noble. He stared at D_Light as though he had nothing more interesting to do. D_Light knew better than to stare back at his father. Lyra, pacing back and forth like a caged jaguar, was clearly multitasking, distant and preoccupied, evidenced by her fixed, vacant stare. While D_Light knew that part of her brain was being used to control the birdman avatar, he could only imagine what she was doing with the other part. Whatever it was, however, must have something to do with why he had been summoned here, and that was unsettling to the slightly anxious D_Light.
The birdman pointed a wing toward some high-backed chairs and ordered D_Light to take a seat in the corner. It then proceeded to hop over to the mute nobleman who still stared meditatively at D_Light, protracted its beak out towards his ear, and did a low haw, haw, haw, each haw repeating in rapid succession like a machine gun. D_Light suppressed a chuckle, intrigued by Lyra’s use of SeaGuy™ for the purpose of taunting. He was also impressed with Lyra’s lynx familiar, how it was capable of projecting its auditory output to seem as though the sound was coming from the bird beak. Very polished.
Clearly, the nobleman was doing his best to ignore the persistently irritating avatar, but D_Light imagined the man would grab the birdman by the throat and throttle the life out of its deranged body had the creature been anything more than a projection of light. Of course, if he did lose control and go ballistic on the monster, he wouldn’t be the first human alive to thoughtlessly attack an avatar. D_Light almost wished he would, as it would provide him some much-needed comic relief.
The birdman, appearing to be bored with tormenting the nobleman, parted with one last goading haw, haw, haw, haw. It then ambled-a combination of hops interlaced with waddling-over to D_Light, its absurdly long penis swaying back and forth as it approached. Upon reaching D_Light, it turned its head so that one devilish eye was facing him, inspecting him with intent. It stood there momentarily and then said, “I’m so rude! I forgot to ask if you wanted a little something to eat. I have these chocolate truffles that are to die for!” It spoke the word “die” with an extra raspy flair. “You must be famished after a long night of snuffing out my handmaidens!”
Oh, here we go, D_Light thought. I was wondering when she’d cut to the chase. D_Light was not entirely sure how to react to the comment, but he did like chocolate and wasn’t about to screw up that offer. “Yes, please,” he replied with a nod.
The birdman then took a hop closer, twisting its head and beak around to regard D_Light with its other eye. The creature just stood there, staring at him with an unnerving and unnatural rigidity that D_Light first found discomforting and then amusing. Remembering that he was actually interacting with Mother Lyra via this creature, D_Light decided to return the gaze for a while and then eventually mustered the courage to wink at it playfully.
D_Light was now feeling downright cocky and was getting ready to compliment the bird on its fine plumage-especially on its backside-and its lack of fishy breath. Fortunately, he was interrupted before he said something he’d later regret. In walked a tall, well-built man carrying a round stone tray. The man, dressed in a long, dark, flowing robe that dragged behind him with a faint brushing sound, bore a dark circle tattoo in the middle of each cheek like a classic clown who had gone gothic. These tattoos indicated that the servant was a product, a living organism based on a human template that was engineered to serve a human master. The servant smiled politely and bent down to present D_Light with a truffle. He selected one that was dusted with a shimmering golden powder.
“Ah, curry coconut,” squawked the bird, “my favorite! Take another, we can always make more.”
D_Light, having confirmed with Smorgeous that no poison was detected, decided to take two. They were to die for, at least metaphorically. Not that D_Light was truly afraid of being poisoned, for outside of Rule Seven it was a sin for anyone-noble or otherwise-to murder another human, even a common player like D_Light. Still, the truffles could be drugged. The recent sniffing software Smorgeous had downloaded could detect many drugs, but not all of them, especially since new drugs were being invented every day. Calculating the risk and deciding that the benefits outweighed them, D_Light reached for yet another. After all, this was top-notch gourmet chocolate that was prohibitively expensive for anyone but nobility. It also seemed to contain a chili powder or some such substance that inflicted an addictive and satisfying burn.
D_Light was about to remark that these chocolates were even better than Cweet™ gourmet chocolates when he caught himself. Nobles themselves never dropped brand names, and it was rude for others to drop on them. Unlike nobility of past eras, the powerful of today were distinguished largely by what they did not say. By refraining from name-dropping, a well-to-do player was telling the world, “I needn’t the trivial point scraps for which lesser players prostitute themselves.”
Until now, Lyra had been completely committed to pacing between the fireplace on the west wall and the fireplace on the east. Presently, she began advancing toward D_Light, her eyes bearing down on him. D_Light, halfway into a truffle, swallowed the contents of his mouth and silently debated whether or not it would be rude to pop in the other half while she approached. In his indecision, the delicate chocolate melted between his fingers. He ended up not only popping in the other half, but licking off his fingers as well. Good one, D_Light, he thought. Why not just blow your nose on your sleeve while you’re at it! He glanced up at Lyra and gave her a quick and innocent, “Oops!”
Mother Lyra was unusually tall for a human female. Like most humans, she was pandectic, a descendant of a rich mixture of many different races, making her skin a deep tan color. Her heart-shaped face was softly sculpted, the skin smooth and flawless, like polished stone. Long, jet-black locks of loosely curled hair were amassed on the top of her head and hung haphazardly about her face, encircling her cheeks and eyes. She wore an organic bodysuit, similar to the one Fael had worn last night, but Lyra’s suit was blood red. Power red. Although Lyra was not very muscular, the formfitting bodysuit revealed a lean, fit figure. Over her bodysuit a semitransparent cloak of sea blue hung on her like a whisper. She was the godmother of many, and she definitely looked the part.
D_Light had been in Lyra’s presence before, and aside from the noblewoman’s carefree manner, there was one thing about her that fascinated him more than all else. It was her eyes. Striking green emeralds that nearly glowed against the otherwise dark shadows of her countenance, a trait engineered by her ancestors. As would be
