Spacebound Chronicles

Chapter 6: Galactic Champions Wanted

Sunday had been boring.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had been insufferable.

Wake up, snooze, brush, dress, subway, thinking about Fantasy Stars. Clock in, images, lunch, text, clock out. Subway, sandwich, TV. Chimeras? Crash. Shower. What did the weird bard guy fear? Bed. Weird bard guy.

Wake up, no snooze today, strange energy from thinking about the bard and Chimera. Brush teeth, put on suit. Subway. Wikipedia article on chimeras. Greek mythology? Clock in, images, Tony, lunch, text. Clock out, elevator with Tyler from finances, subway. Stop at cybercafé. Too busy. Chips. Crash. Shower. Chimeras, Viking bar fight, Supreme Commander Shay of the Ryats. Shave. That bard. Sleep.

Wake up, brush, suit, subway. Article “Fantasy Stars update announced”. Cool. Clock in. Stare blankly at images. Should make models seem healthier. Prettier. Fitter. Happier.

No matter how much he looked at the pictures provided, Scott just could not. He had been doing the same thing for weeks, just for different client companies. Upbeat advertisement making every product look like the paragon of health, happiness and family union. How the hell was duct tape supposed to be responsible for any of that in one’s life?

With the stroke of two keys, the smiling family holding rolls of ‘Bond!, The Duct Tape the Keeps You Together’ vanished behind his web browser. Poking his head up from behind his screen, Scott verified that no one was immediately around. It was safe.

Going straight for the search engine, his finger flew over the keyboard to write ‘Fantasy Stars compatible headset price’. He had assumed that something capable of that much detail, immersion and… mysterious controls would cost more than he could afford.

He was right.

Anything with the bare minimum requirements to run the game was expensive enough to force him into a few months of saving. It would be that much easier if he could strike one of the larger projects with the bonuses or if one of his original ideas were selected to spearhead a client’s marketing campaign, but there were two problems with that.

First, the waiting line for large projects was long, and the nobody who’d been sitting in the same chair for three years was nowhere near the front of said line. Second, he had no original ideas. Not that his creativity was anyhow supported by the endless loop of health, prettiness, fitness and happiness.

No, if he wanted a rig, he would have to wait some months. He started doing the math to try and decide how many months, precisely, but gave up and went straight for the calculator app icon on his toolbar.

And it was there, partially hidden by the toolbar on the very bottom of the screen, that he saw hope. Hope in the shape of a search engine result:

“New Cyber Café Celebrates Grand Opening with FANTASY STARS Contest.”

He instantly clicked the link to a gaming news website. His eyes flew over the article. Yes, the Café was on his city. Yes, the contest was happening in two weeks. But what about the best part? What about the prize? Was the prize… Yes! Yes, the prize was a top-notch headset with interactive gloves. Yes!

The elevator ding forced Scott to switch back to the photo editing software and the smiling duct tape family. Happy. Yes, the older kid looks happy, but that pimple has to go…

“Morning, Scott!”

“Morning, Tony.”

The damn pimple can wait. Tony’s gone. Alone again. Alt + Tab.

The article had an embedded link to the new cybercafé’s, Clark’s Geek Cave, website. Click! To no one’s surprise, the background was decorated with Supreme Commander Shay, the not ever-present main villain of the game, in his signature pose and a Dark Matter Wizard mounted on what looked like a colorfully feathered dragon with a double ended tail and a bird beak. Clark’s Geek Cave was going all out on the Fantasy Stars theme. They must have struck a partnership deal.

The idea was further reinforced by the main feature on the front page: a massive hologramlike square displaying the words ‘GALACTIC CHAMPIONS WANTED!’

Click!

“To celebrate Clark’s Geek Cave grand opening… blah blah blah… Partnership with Fantasy Stars… blah blah blah… We are looking for the bravest and most skilled Phoenix suit riders in the galaxy! The first to prove themselves Child of the Wind by parading through the whole extension of the Fiery Man’s Canyon until the top of the Blue Tree Hill shall be crowned in eternal glory! Besides a full Fantasy Stars compatible set to the victor, one character of their choice will be awarded an exotic mount and an elite Phoenix suit in-game!”

Judging by the picture embedded between paragraphs, Phoenix suits were colorful harnesses surrounded by diminutive jets on their backs, palms, feet and waistline. If that was indeed it, the item alone was worth the win. In fact, for the briefest of moments Scott forgot about the headset and the gloves, lost in fantasizing Logan Spacebound gliding over Winner City and diving through its buildings in one of those.

He went on reading: “To ensure all competitors will be evenly matched in skill alone, CGC, in partnership with Fantasy Stars, will be providing a cast of preset characters with maxed flight skills and fully upgraded suits.”

He checked the time, then closed the site and went straight to social media. Joey would still be somewhere in his friend list. Joey, Joey, Joey… There! Joseph Butcher.

“Hey” Scott texted.

Offline. Joey was probably busy. As Scott should be too.

“Check this out!” Scott inserted the link to the contest rules and sign up forms.

Nothing. He should probably get back to work and talk to Joey latter.

He minimized the bowser and stared blankly at the pimple in the duct tape family’s older child’s forehead.

Then opened the browser again.

“If I got that headset we could play together.”

Scott chewed his lip as he waited for the gray ‘offline’ sign beside Joey’s name to turn green. It did not.

“I don’t even know what a Phoenix suit is though. What you say we practice this week?”

Still offline.

Shaking his head, Scott went back to the duct tape family. Time to handle that pimple. He was still zooming in on it when the unfamiliar ping of a private message in social media resonated from his monitor, making him rush to mute it. He peeked at the nearby coworkers, but they were too absorbed in their own works to have paid any mind to the sound.

The pimple could wait yet a while longer.

“Looks epic! Come over this afternoon, you can use Jake again,” read Joey’s answer.

Scott beamed at the monitor, ready to type his thanks for the offer, but then thought better about it.

“Actually, I created a char in a cybercafé near home. Can you take Jake to Winner City?”

“lol ofc not! He’s across the universe, I’d need two days hitchhiking with merchants and smugglers to get back to Winner City.”

Scott sighed, pondering what to propose next, but Joey had it under control:

“I have someone else there though,” Joey messaged. “You game this afternoon?”

Oh, he was game, alright!

After sending a confirmation, he got right back to the pimple, then bulldozed through another bunch of due work, completely neglecting lunchtime as the assignments flew past. At some point of text formatting work, he looked up to find himself alone in the room as everyone else had left for lunch. No matter, he did not feel exceptionally hungry today.

By the time his colleagues marched back to their stations, all due jobs had been filed, emailed and properly submitted. Scott awaited standing upright and optimistic by the elevator.

By the third wave of returning workers, Mr. Moore arrived. The man he was looking for.

“Mr. Moore, a second?” he called out the balding manager who still held a smoothie. Biased by that happy hour experience, Scott couldn’t help but wonder if the smoothie contained something else.

“Williams! What’s up?” he muttered without taking the straw away from his lips.

“I’ve done my work for today. Everything. Do you mind if I leave early to take care of…”

“Personal matters? As long as your job is done, I couldn’t care less,” Moore shrugged. “But you won’t get paid the rest of the day. If you want, I can send more work your way.”

“I- Thank you, sir, but I really need to go,” he stuttered.

“Sure? If you keep this rhythm constantly, I could see about some bonuses.”

He had to swallow the urge of asking how big that bonus could turn out to be. This was an extraordinary situation, and he had an appointment in another planet in about an hour.

“Thank you, sir, but I really need to go.”

“You do you. Have to report back to your secret agent friends?” Moore asked, pulling the running office gag of Scott being an international spy.

Scott felt blood rising to his cheeks, but then shook that away and chuckled.

“No Mr. Moore, not today. Today it’s jetpack training.”

And with that Scott entered the elevator, a silly smirk plastered on his face as the doors closed between him and his boss. Mr. Moore seemed to be taken aback by the comeback, and Scott wondered if he had messed up by saying that.

But it was fine, as in the last fraction of second before the doors closed, he could see Moore starting to laugh.