Still, his date kept on her feet and continued on. D_Light was breathing shallow and fast, and his heart was beating so hard that it felt like it would split open his chest. Feeling dizzy, nauseated, and somewhat disconnected from reality, he hurried to his closet and pulled out a crossbow. It was always loaded.
Fael stood at the door, crazily fumbling at the lock while making a terribly disturbing noise that was difficult to classify-crying, perhaps, or the sound of a badly damaged windpipe. Her one hand fumbled uselessly at the lock while the other, slick with blood, slipped on the door handle. D_Light rushed up to only a few paces behind her. He was a pretty good shot, but he wanted to get close, not trusting his trembling limbs. He could not risk a miss. She did not turn to face him when he finally pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 4
When the time came that you could buy a genetic engineering kit as easily as past generations could buy an erector set for their children, you knew a pandemic of monumental proportions was just a matter of time. In fact, the genesis of the TerriLove virus was traced back to a disgruntled seventeen-year-old suburban boy. Unlike other angry youth of history who went on killing sprees of varying magnitude, Justin Flairon ended up killing four out of every ten human beings on earth. He himself was the first victim of his monster.
The social aftershocks from this culling were nearly as bad as the virus itself. Death begot sorrow, desperation, and anger, which in turn begot war and anarchy. And so when the OverSoul came to humankind and offered her guidance, it was the answer to countless prayers. The Authority promised shelter-shelter to a people who had gone from a post-scarcity economy where famine and poverty were history, to a raging nightmare. The OverSoul, in her divine wisdom, fulfilled her promise with the Game-a system of rules and an economic framework wherein everyone, nearly regardless of their talents, could find security, prosperity, and above all, a purpose. Indeed, through the Game, one could conquer death itself.
D_Light turned off the feed, as the congregation would be bored with additional footage anyway. His obligation to them was met, and the rest was no one’s business. No one needed to see how, after leaving her body there, unable to look at it, he had leaned into his window and stared into the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. No one needed to see the cleaning bots dispose of Fael’s body and the fluids that had spilled from it. And most importantly, no one needed to see how D_Light took a mega dose of tranquilizers and went to sleep.
The congregation’s curiosity was satisfied, and the mood became more tempered. There was no music. Despite the cathedral holding over three hundred people, it was almost quiet. Almost. There were always a few who couldn’t abide silence-D_Light’s friend, C, being one of them. C did a low hum and murmured, mostly to himself, “That was clean, eh. Sure, that was a clean frag.”
With the testimony over, the rest of the service was a mere formality. The congregation confirmed unanimously that the frag was clean, at which point 825,445 points-one-fifth of Fael Rami’s net worth-was deposited into D_Light’s profile. It would have taken him several months of nonstop grinding to accumulate that many points, so by any measure of a mortal player, last night turned out to be very profitable indeed.
He went through the motions of giving a speech, but no one really cared, and so, interspersed between cliche inspirational statements, he name-dropped. “Fael would’ve topped me had it not been for Supa_Sniff™ chemi-detection software. Sure, it costs a few points, but what’s your life worth?”
Although it felt cheesy to do so, he continued. “By the way, that PrimeFlavor™ organic suit of Fael’s was perfect.
I’m sorry it all went down like it did ’cause she had great style. Comfort, protection, and chic? I’m ordering one today. I’m getting one in honor of Fael.”
D_Light considered ending the pain there, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity for one last drop. “All right, enough of my prattling. I’m gonna go kick back with a Gd_Lookin™ hyperbeverage and relax.”
The last statement was a little off topic, but surely no one in the congregation was going to blame him for milking it a bit. It was not every day a player had such a large audience. Besides those in the cathedral, his testimony was streaming live up onto the Cloud. Presently, a green flash in a corner of his consciousness relayed the bounty points streaming in. Just the brand name exposure from the dropping was worth a good fee, but his referrals had already resulted in three orders for the detection software and five for the organic suit. Excellent.
After a good score, D_Light liked to celebrate in his own quiet way, which was more of a reflection and introspection. And so, without his usual after-service chatter and gossip, he bolted straight to the exit. It was midsummer and the sun beat down mercilessly, but the castle was on the sea where there was always a breeze. Good, salty wind that always gave him a twinge of childhood memory the way that only smells can. He strolled down to the boathouse where he kept his sailboat. The craft was ultralight for her size, so with a little sweat, he was able to slide her out of her cylindrical storage capsule and carry the still folded vessel down to the water’s edge unassisted. Kneeling down, he quickly unfolded the hull, mast, and stabilizers. The components of the vessel snapped into place with a series of unambiguous and satisfying clicks. It was similar to assembling a well-designed kite-a huge, waterborne kite.
Terralova, as the vessel was called, cut through the waves cleanly. Her hull was bulletproof strong, but ultralight with just the right amount of flexibility to make the best of the liquid terrain. D_Light sat comfortably in his harness, Smorgeous lying on his chest. D_Light did not bother with a harness for the familiar, as he had infallible balance. He looked down at the catlike creature. The outer surface of his body was soft, and his synthetic fur was convincing. His organic computer chips gave off heat, furthering the guise of a mammalian creature. All Smorgeous needed to do to be a perfect cat-machine was to purr, but D_Light prided himself on being too utilitarian to download worthless kitschy software that enabled familiars to do things like purr, meow, or nuzzle.
D_Light pointed Terralova straight out into the infinite blue. The vessel surged forward as her living filament sails made the most of the wind. It felt like she wanted to get out of there as much as he did. There was the familiar slosh and hiss of the water just beneath coupled with the slight chill as the occasional wave managed to break above his harness and soak his protection suit. No games. He had pulled in enough points today. Just water and sun.
D_Light did as much of his grinder gaming out on the water as he could. Because of this, he tended to ante into games that did not require his physical presence somewhere, unless that “somewhere” happened to be nearby and accessible by sea. Luckily, most of the grinder games he played involved creating or debugging software, so it could usually be played virtually. Grinder games allowed you to interact with the Game virtually, without having to be there physically. On the other hand, spank games-games designed primarily for entertainment-did not allow this. From the perspective of the Game, sloth was a sin, so if you were going to play a game with no productive value, then the least you could do was work out your body.
The wind gusted and the roar of the air rushing past his ears drowned out the sound of his breath as he let out a deep, contented sigh. I’m alive and I’m free! The thought was as forced as the smile he coerced onto his face. Real or not, a smile always made him feel a little better. And why shouldn’t he be happy? With his recent score, he could afford to take a few days off-enough time to do some island hopping. There were sideliners on some of the more remote islands. That could be a real vacation, he thought. Log out of the Game and live old- school for a day or two. The sideliners could show me how they do it.
Master, there is a summons from Mother Lyra Ramanavi.
D_Light had ordered Smorgeous to hold his calls, but the familiar knew his master would want to take this one. Smorgeous did not fully understand human social hierarchy, but his pattern recognition software was adept at making connections like this. House nobility was a high-priority contact.
There was no call, just a message. A summoning. Damn! he thought. Anyone else he could blow off, but Mother Lyra was nobility and, as such, was not to be kept waiting. Nor were nobility to be called back. If she had
