Leveled Up Love

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Zack silenced the incessant ringing of the doorbell with a quick eye-tracked command on his OptiGlasses. Blessed silence arrived as the smart-house system muted the noisy interruption, allowing Zack to return to Star Fury. He could not afford the distraction when he was in the midst of an intense dogfight. Virtual stars flashed past as he kicked in the afterburners and his integrated, state-of-the-art leather gaming chair tilted him in place, adding to the immersion of the game.

Speakers whined, providing the surround-sound effect of his straining engines and the audible ping of lasers striking energy shields. Zack turned up the volume with another swipe of his OptiGlasses as repeated thumps and muffled shouts originating from the heavy front door provided the insistent intrusion of unwanted reality. His new speakers drowned out the thumps with ease. The upgraded system was the best on the market right now. He’d even had to get techs in to install them weeks ago. Nothing but the best for Star Fury.

The muffled shouts rivaled the speakers though, and Zack missed a key input. His ship spiraled into darkness and flames as his shields failed and lasers tore his ship apart. Swearing, the generously padded young man pulled himself out of his chair and stalked to the door. He adjusted his stained shirt and sweatpants, which had stuck to his pasty skin as he walked, and smacked his lips. Days-old flat pop had left an overly sweet, furry sensation lingering in his mouth.

“What?” Zack snarled as he yanked open the door, bypassing the automatic commands just to vent his fury.

On the other side of the door stood Zack’s ex-guardian and present trustee, Philip MacComack. Zack hadn’t needed a guardian since he turned eighteen over six years ago, but that didn’t stop Phil from interfering. Phil’s forehead was shiny from sweat, and he was panting. His skin was too dark to turn bright red the way Zack’s did when he overexerted himself, but Phil was still flushed from the effort he had put into assaulting Zack’s door. The graying older gentleman’s tie was askew, his coat unbuttoned and his foot half-raised as he readied another kick at the door. Phil placed his shiny leather foot down before Zack could shut the door, pushed the younger man aside, and stalked in. Moving Zack was absurdly easy, considering Phil was at least three decades older and smaller than Zack, but athletics had never been Zack’s strength.

“Damn it, Zack, why did you stop returning my calls?” Phil demanded.

“I was busy.”

“And running your trust isn’t a full-time job? I had to fly in from New York for this. And you know how much I hate the heat of Oklahoma City.”

Phil stormed past Zack and slapped his briefcase down on a nearby table. The briefcase landed with a squelch that turned Phil’s expression from anger to disgust. He wrinkled his nose as he finally noticed the mess he had walked into.

A wall of smudged windows showed a stunning view of Oklahoma City: sleek silver buildings, crowded multi-level highways, and a meandering river with an expanse of parks and shops dotted along the bank. But the panoramic scenery was overshadowed by the layers of grime and clutter in the open plan black and white marble condo. To the right of the entrance hall, the luxurious gray and white kitchen with a granite-top island was cluttered with empty pizza boxes, discarded plates, and abandoned coffee mugs. Directly in front, past the dining room table that Phil now regretted using, sat the pride of Zack’s existence—his state-of-the-art, multi-monitor gaming rig.

The only decoration in the apartment hung beside the monitors: a promotional poster for the Star Fury tournament, featuring supermodel host Zoe Cross wearing a skimpy version of the Armada dress uniform. Zoe’s thick black hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her exposed skin glowed golden on the glossy poster. The redesigned uniform showed a lot of skin. Zack had yet to put up the other posters he had of her, collected from the very start of her modeling contracts with Star Fury years ago. Of course, she’d branched into acting and hosting video game shows since her debut over a decade ago. Ever since then, she’d captured the hearts and loins of gamers everywhere.

Zack and his teammates were Corsairs—basically space pirates who played by their own rules—but he could appreciate a woman in uniform. Besides, Star Fury hadn’t released a promotional poster for the Corsairs since the last model retired. Rather than be upset about the clear favoritism being shown to Armada scum, Zack had decided to appreciate what was available.

Not a hardship when it was Zoe.

The poster and gaming console were the only clean items in the room. His gaming chair was surrounded by discarded clothing, pizza boxes, and empty pop bottles. A pathway through the mess led to the bathroom to the left and his bedroom beyond that.

“What is this?” Phil asked. “And what happened to the cleaning service?”

“Pizza. I told them to take a break till the tournament is over.” Zack turned to look back at his massive computer setup, eyes hungry as his ship’s escape pod floated in space, waiting for him to return and respawn. “The tournament which I’m currently training for. The first round is this afternoon, and⁠—”

“Your damn games again,” Phil said as he wiped the bottom of his briefcase with a discarded napkin.

“You know, they’re not just damn games…” When Phil opened his mouth to argue, Zack sighed and shook his head. “Forget it. I don’t have time to argue about this right now. Why are you here?”

“The year-end audit and next year’s proposed budget. We’ve put off submitting the documents as much as we can, but if we don’t get it signed in the next week, we’ll be fined.”

“Okay, so do it.”

“Oh, for the love of Moses!” Phil took a deep breath to regain his composure. “We do this every year, Zacharius… you’re the named beneficiary. Accordingly, we need you to sign off on the audited statements. Where are you going!?!”

“Got to respawn,” Zack said as he walked back to his seat and began the process of getting his pod to respawn at the nearest station. “I thought we changed that bylaw.”

Phil drew a deep, long-suffering breath as he popped open his briefcase and retrieved a tablet and stylus. “You wanted to. I refused.”

“Oh, right. Why did we do that again?”

“Do you care? Are you even going to pay attention to the explanation?”

Zack shrugged, not taking his eyes off the screen. Phil huffed, and in the reflection from his monitors, Zack caught the old man’s eyes narrowing. He almost felt a little guilty. Almost—until Phil thrust the electronic tablet at him.

“Sign.”

“Why can’t we do this remotely?” Zack muttered. He grabbed the tablet and tossed it onto a nearby couch. A precariously perched, half-filled coffee mug nearly tipped over.

Phil caught the mug and looked around vainly for a safe place to discard it. He settled for a relatively clear place on the floor. “We. Tried.” Phil drew a deep breath as he struggled to stay calm. “Someone sent us to spam.”

“Oh, right.”

Zack vaguely remembered that. The trust had sent some bothersome email in the midst of a fleet battle for Veobos IV, and Zack had nearly been ganked because of it. Somehow, they’d used an override to ping his OptiGlasses, forcing him to deal with it to stop the notifications. That was when they got added to the spam folder.

They just didn’t know when to quit.

“So you’ll go away once I sign this?”

“Review what you sign first!” Phil said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Zack turned on autopilot as his ship launched from the station, then he took the stylus. He held it toward the tablet Phil offered, then pulled back his hand. “What about the foundation?”

“Zack, that’s the least of⁠—”

“Did the board cut the budget? Is that why you’re telling me to review this?”

“Zack—”

Zack pulled the tablet from Phil’s grip and scrolled through until he found the paragraph outlining the budget for his charitable foundation. Sure enough, his bilge-sucking board had proposed a fifteen percent cut to the funding. Zack gritted his teeth.

“Double it.”

“Zack, is that⁠—”

“Double the foundation budget, or I don’t sign.”

Phil sighed. “The proposed budget is more than enough to support the current hospitals and doctors. The board⁠—”

“Then find another hospital to support and put another doctor on the committee.”

“You know I appreciate your dedication to the charity your parents started. They would appreciate it as well, but you should also take an interest in the business they founded. They wouldn’t want you left destitute.”

Zack laughed. “Destitute? I’m about as far from destitute as you can get.”

He gestured to the luxurious apartment. Phil looked around, once again grimacing as he took in the mess. His face said that Zack was a lot closer to destitute than he realized.

Zack’s ship blared a warning, and he turned his attention to the screen. Blast. An Armada patrol was moving in fast. They must have been hanging out just outside the station’s sensor range to catch respawns.

“Look, make the change so I can sign.”

“Zack—”

“It will annoy the board and help sick kids. I call that a win.”

“You really should review⁠—”

“Just make it work.”

Zack turned off autopilot and executed a quick succession of offensive maneuvers, putting his newest laser cannon through its paces while Phil edited the document on his tablet. Zack no longer had time to pay attention to Phil. Three against one was no laughing matter, even if the ships were a class below his.

Anyway, Zack wanted to get a little more practice with the weapon before he decided on his final setup for the tournament round that afternoon. Using something so new in competition was risky, but it also would keep his opponents on their toes.

Phil punctuated his tapping on the tablet with long-suffering sighs that Zack ignored. He had ten years of practice learning to ignore Phil. The trustee was always complaining about something or other, but in the end, he managed to give Zack what he wanted with minimum effort on Zack’s part. It was why Zack kept him around in spite of Phil’s occasional meddling.

Zack had destroyed the entire patrol by the time Phil shoved the tablet at him again. That laser canon had been worth every coin. He took his eyes off the screen long enough to glance at Phil’s face and confirm that the trustee had done as Zack had asked. Phil look grim and resolved. That was about right.

“One more thing. Somebody on my gaming forum just lost his job. Send him something to help ends meet, all right?” Zack used his eyes to make a few swipes on his OptiGlasses and send the user’s contact information to Phil.

The trustee sighed but didn’t protest. “Anonymous as usual?”

Zack shrugged. “Say he won a raffle or something.”

“You know, it isn’t easy to⁠—”

“Hey, it’s what I pay you for.”

“About that. You really should review the rest of this document before signing.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Zack pulled the tablet and stylus from Phil’s hands and began to sign the marked sections.

His speakers blared again as Armada drones spawned and blasted him with laser fire. Zack swore and dropped the tablet to maneuver away. His ship had taken minimal damage, but he couldn’t let something like that slide. Getting caught by patrol drones was a noob move. Their programming was so basic that any decent player paying attention could defeat them without any effort. Getting hit at all was insulting.

Zack set the autopilot to begin a counter maneuver and resumed his signing with renewed energy. Why was the document so long? He was sure there weren’t normally this many boxes to sign. His speakers chimed, letting Zack know that the drones had caused more damage.

Zack’s signature turned into a squiggled line as he blazed through the rest of the forms until he reached the end. The tablet sent a prompt to his OptiGlasses requesting biometric confirmation, and Zack looked straight ahead while the app scanned his retinas to make sure it was really him. It was a security measure Phil had insisted on implementing last year after Zack had tried to avoid the hassle of paperwork by hiring a body double to go to the office and sign for him.

That had been fun while it lasted.

The biometric scanning app chimed to confirm his identity and prompted him for one more signature on the tablet. Zack signed the final box with a flourish and tossed the tablet onto a nearby pile of dirty laundry.

Paperwork dealt with, Zack dropped a bomb big enough to obliterate the drones and hyperjumped away from the quadrant before the weapon detonated. That would take care of the drones, but he needed to find the outpost that had sent them and get revenge for the damage they had caused. Should he get his revenge alone or wait for his team to come online and back him up? Either he was slipping or the Armada had finally figured out a way to make their drones more effective. In either case, he needed to figure it out before the qualifying round of the tournament in a few hours. Some backup and input from his teammates might be⁠—

“What the hell?”

One after the other, his screens turned off. The incessant hum of the CPU fan died. It looked as if the power had been cut, but none of the other electronics in the room had been affected. What had happened? Zack tossed his game controller onto the couch and knelt—with some effort—to stare at the external power supply beneath the table. It flickered at him, the green lights glowing as cheerfully as always.

So the power was still on. What was the problem then? This setup was new and state of the art. It shouldn’t die like that. Zack pressed the power button on his computer a few times, but nothing happened. He wheezed with the effort of bending over as he checked everything a second time, hoping he had missed something obvious.

“I’ll be taking that…” Phil extracted the tablet from the laundry and walked over to his briefcase. He slipped the tablet inside with a satisfied smile.

The smile slipped when Phil picked up the leather case and noticed the slice of pizza stuck to it. Face twisting in disgust, he peeled off the dried pizza and cleaned the leather with a handkerchief. Then he stood and watched Zack poke and prod at computer wires under his desk.

A second later, Zack jerked upward, banging his head on the table and clutching the injury. As he rubbed the sore spot, pink hearts flooded his vision on the OptiGlasses. Before Zack could react, text scrolled across the lenses.

DaEvo installing…

…

DaEvo installed.

DaEvo initiating connections with smart household.

Authorization confirmed.

Assessing DaEvo user…

…

Initiating user protocols.

The text faded away, and Zack blinked. “What the hell is DaEvo?”

“Dating Evolution. Alpha version 1.1. It’s what you agreed to alpha test for us,” Philip said, his smile growing truly wolfish. “I told you to review what you signed. Now, I’ve got to get going.”

“What? No. I didn’t agree to anything…” Zack scrolled through the menu of his OptiGlasses to delete whatever weird app Phil had installed, but all of his icons were covered with pink heart-shaped locks and wouldn't open. “Phil, what is happening?”

But Phil was already halfway out the door. The older man had a bounce to his steps that he had not had before, while Zack leaned against the wall and tried to regain his equilibrium.

“Phil! Why is my computer dead? What did you do?”

“Zack Moore User Protocols Initiated. Electronic use limited until minimum attributes and quest reached.”

The computerized voice came through the bone conduction headphones built into Zack’s OptiGlasses, so only he heard them. It was velvety soft, a voice that caressed and calmed. Not that Zack was feeling particularly calm at the moment.

“What is happening?” Zack whirled toward Phil.

The older man held the door open just a bit and peeked through. “Right, have fun. Let us know how it works out!”

“How what works out? What does it mean that my electronics use is limited?”

Zack dove for the door, but Phil was too fast. The trustee slammed it shut, and the automatic locks for the smart house system clicked into place. Zack pulled on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He cursed out his trustee as he pressed the code into the keypad. The numbers flashed as he entered the door code, but the bolts remained firmly in place.

“Phil! Phil, what are you doing? Why won’t this open? Phil!”

DaEvo initiating… Please wait… Thank you for helping to make DaEvo a success…

Zack ignored the scrolling text and used his eye path to select the menu on his OptiGlasses. The video calling apps were blocked out with pink hearts and wouldn’t open, but the basic calling app was still available. He opened it and groaned. All his contacts were blocked except for Phil. He dialed the number and tried to force the door open while the phone rang.

“Hello. Phil speaking⁠—”

“Phil, I’m locked in⁠—”

“Thanks for calling, but I’m not available right now. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

Zack gritted his teeth and kicked the door. “What the hell, Phil? You work for me! Did you forget that? My trust pays your salary! Pick up this phone right now, or you’re fired!”

An email notification flashed on the OptiGlasses screen. From Phil. Zack opened it with a quick flick of his eyes.

It was a section of the documents he had signed, a few lines highlighted.

I, Zack Moore, do hereby agree not to hold Philip MacComack liable for any consequences of the Alpha Test of the Dating Evolution App and hereby relinquish control over my electronic key to the App.

The line below the highlighted text contained Zack’s signature and his biometric print.

Zack swore and kicked the door again. Pain shot up his leg, and another line of text scrolled across his glasses. In addition to agreeing to alpha test Dating Evolution, Zack had signed documents to extend Phil’s contract and give him a raise.

A substantial raise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It wasn’t as if Zack couldn’t afford to pay Phil’s raise. Or that the man didn’t deserve it. Phil had stood between Zack and his odious board for years and made sure Zack had a comfortable life. Unfortunately, Zack and Phil sometimes disagreed about what that comfortable life should look like. So Zack liked yanking Phil’s chain, making the trustee’s life as miserable as Phil made his, with his endless prattling about responsibility and making Zack sign things.

It looked as though Phil had finally had enough.

Zack tried the door one more time, then turned his attention to his gaming setup. Being locked in was annoying, but it wasn’t as if he really needed to go outside. Food could be delivered through the mail slot if necessary. He probably had enough leftover pizza scattered around the apartment to last through a few tournament rounds.

But none of that would do him any good if he couldn’t access Star Fury, and the first round of the tournament was a few hours away.

Zack checked all his messaging apps again, just in case, but they were still blocked out. He could call or email Phil, but the app had hijacked every other form of communication with the outside world.

Zack narrowed his eyes and glared at the cheerful pink heart icon that now filled the corner of his OptiGlasses. He gritted his teeth and opened the app. Time to see exactly what he was dealing with.

Cheesy music and a stream of pink hearts accompanied the opening of the app. The words “Dating Evolution” scrolled across his vision in an ornate font.

Then the fancy graphics gave way to basic text, and the hearts and music disappeared. Apparently, the alpha version was still pretty rough. Maybe that was for the best. Zack would rather snap his OptiGlasses in half than see everything through pink heart filters.

User protocols initiated. Sending first quest. Please accept and complete!

Minimum Hygiene Levels not Met

Please take a shower and change into a clean pair of clothes.

Reward: Access to external environment

As the words scrolled past his glasses, Zack groaned. “What did you do to me, Phil?”