Spacebound Chronicles

Chapter 19: Caroline Bennett

Their photography plan was clever, for sure, but putting it in motion proved more challenging than either Scott or Carol could have anticipated. Things started smoothly, with the enlisting of a half a dozen Katana members to help, Gash Hunter being the first volunteer. Things got slightly bumpier once someone pointed out that elements such as miner-bots were trademarks of Fantasy Stars, and therefore had to be replaced.

The solution was a call to Ybor, Logan’ old mechanic friend. He took two days to come online. When he showed up, it took less than an hour for him to turn a miner-bot carcass into something so different no one would ever make the connection.

Meanwhile, Carol had found a perfect setting with two bright gas giants for background. There was the advantage of there being nothing to do on either planet, which ensured no random ship would be crossing the scene.

Taking the screenshot was also harder than anyone had anticipated. Turns out keeping people and objects still in open space is no easy task. Still, after a long effort, they managed to keep Logan Spacebound in his spacesuit perfectly still in perspective to the backpack, the reformed miner-bot husk and a Gash Hunter in pirate disguise.

Gash had insisted in being the photographer, claiming his teleportation skills would allow for various angles, but his looks were more important. His unkempt beard and hair, along with rough skin and rotten teeth, made for the perfect pirate. However, since the idea was having a classic yarr-inspiring pirate, that brought up the next big issue.

Gash had to die.

Since an outfit proper for space would ruin the design, every twenty seconds he would die and respawn at the rented shuttle, which drastically delayed the process. Fortunately, he always kept the childish excitement, no matter how many times he choked to death. He got slightly unsatisfied when his Experience Points ran out because of all the dying, but Karyn had easily bribed him back into cooperating by lending him Sparky for a whole weekend.

Joey had come by the shooting stage very briefly, first as Jake Nebula, just to say hi, then as Snorri to let his ship be part of the background. That too would probably need to be edited out to avoid a lawsuit, but they also desperately needed some complements to the scenery, so Scott would handle that some other time.

All the screenshots had been taken and scene unset when Doctor Belle Sloth’s ship materialized. She had apparently run into a player who had a medieval themed suit of armor, generic enough to be unpatented and hermetic enough to ensure breath in outer space. That would, indeed, add to the fantastical aspect they were aiming for. They would most certainly not reorganize everything to fit the knight in, but there was hope. They just needed to take a picture of him with a starry background and Scott would have no issues inserting him into the group later.

Come Friday, Scott Williams marched boldly into Tony’s office with not one picture but ten. Taken from different angles, edited into different color schemes and even changing some of the characters’ positions.

Tony picked up the colorful prints, examining one by one. The corner of his mouth rose faintly, but he soon handed them back to Scott, grimacing.

“This is really good, Scott, but a little too late,” Tony said.

Scott swallowed dry, fists clenching regardless of damaging the photos they held.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, blood reaching boiling point.

“Jane. She went to Hellen Brust’s office yesterday and sold her bullshit idea of rad skates and graffiti.”

“What?” Scott gagged. “She can’t do that, Hellen is our director, you should be the one talking to her!”

“I know, but she did it anyways.”

“Come one, didn’t you say she approved of the concept? That was why I got this position in the first place!” Scott threw his hands up.

“She did, but according to her we took to long to settle on that, and Jane’s already started on her campaign.”

“We have it right here!” Scott slammed the space pictures against Tony’s desk. “Come on, Tony, we have to at least show her!”

“Scott, stop!” Tony stood up, eyes closed. “She’s already decided, and she won’t change her mind. Trust me, I’ve been working with her for a while now.”

“Then why the hell was I promoted to begin with?”

“Because you showed you can have good ideas! You came up with this, you can come up with an artwork for skates,” Tony said, handing the wrinkled papers back to Scott. “Jane’s already got the Billboards handled, Hellen asked you to use the same visual identity for original social media posts.”

Scott yanked the useless artwork from Tony’s hands and walked off with a scoff.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered and left the room.

That night, he held the VR gear on his lap, starring deeply withing his own reflected eyes on the lenses. Among the many thoughts running through his brain, one question lingered: Why did he even care so much about that campaign?

He had gotten his promotion, even as his original concept was discarded, they maintained him in that position. Before that, he had gone through more advertisement pieces than he cared to remember, and never minded at all their content or form, why was this different?

Maybe because of all the time and energy him and his galactic friends had put into the photoshoot? Or maybe it was just the vanity of having his own original creation displayed on billboards, TV commercials and social media. Then again, when he made the drawing that started all this, he never considered making them public. He did them out of passion.

Yes, there it was, passion!

For the first time in his professional career, he felt passionate about his creation. It was the thought of sharing that passion with the world, even if just for kids looking for school supplies to feel a shred of the excitement Fantasy Stars provided him.

He spun the VR helmet around, ready to step back into the shoes of Logan Spacebound, but stopped upon a knock on the door.

His door? At night?

He rested the gaming equipment on the couch and walked over to the peephole, but there was no one outside. Scott frowned, hand slowly slipping to the handle to warily pull the door open and peek outside.

“Freeze, punk!” someone hidden by the doorframe pressed something against his head the second he stepped out. But that something wasn’t the cold metal of a gun barrel. It was a finger.

“Carol?” he gawked at the unannounced visitor. Didn’t she live five hours away? What was she doing here? How did she know where he lived? Oh, right, he had shared his address so that she could mail her old gaming rig. Still, that only answered half the questions.

“Surprise! How was the presentation? Did they love it?” she bounced in excitement.

“What are you doing here?”

“That project was mine just as much as it was yours!” she said. “More mine than yours, actually! I was the one who had the idea of an in-game photoshoot. So, let me ask you again: did they love it?”

Scott pressed his lips together.

“No, Carol. They didn’t love it,” he answered, crestfallen. “They changed everything yesterday, didn’t even tell me.”

Her expression dropped to match his.

“Oh, no! How are you holding up?”

He shrugged. “Feels like I’ve wasted a lot of time, and not just my own. Everyone’s.”

She flashed him a pained look.

“Hey… Can I come in?”

He shook his head and blinked fast.

“Sure, please,” he stepped aside and gestured her in.

From her previous hiding place, she pulled a large satchel. She walked to the couch, where her old rig awaited. She picked it up and spun it around, an emotive smile reddening her cheeks as her eyes landed upon a very specific detail.

“You kept the Hello Kitty stickers,” she turned to him as he closed the door. “You know I just put those there to mess with you, right?”

He shrugged. “Looked cool either way.”

She smiled, then stretched her arm, offering him the headset. He took it shyly, looking at her with questioning eyes. She only nodded, then pulled from her satchel the high-tech gear awarded to her by Clark’s Geek Cave.

They exchanged a knowing glance, took their seats and only met again in the bodies of Logan Spacebound and Karyn Voidex.

The resident crowd of Megafleet’s commercial station bustled around them as they picked off where they had left after the photoshoot was finished. Usually Logan was absorbed by the infinity of different characters and species found in those masses, but today they only made him feel drained.

“Follow me,” Katryn said, leading him through the jam and onto an empty airlock. There were no ships docked there, only an open maintenance hatch through in which she disappeared.

When he got there, she was motioning for him from beyond a narrow passage clustered by wires and pipes. He squeezed his muscular body through, Karyn helping him past the last few inches and into a wider maintenance corridor.

“Has perma-death been activated to you too?” he asked

“Shh!” she placed a finger over his lips, then gently led him to turn halfway until he saw it. Through a perfectly clear glass wall, the plenitude of Megafleet, thousands upon thousands of ships and their colorful thrusters glittered before the red and blue suns they orbited. The planets and moons of that system dotted the dark sheet of space as tiny jewels: one red, one green, a few blue, some orange, many white.

“No one ever comes here,” Karyn spoke in a low silvery voice.

Logan watched as a golden cruiser and a squadron of white fighters crossed silently by. There was something beyond beauty in that place. Many sights were beautiful, but the awareness of permadeath made that one spot in the galaxy the most perfect of all.

To contemplate beauty from a position of safety was one thing. Seeing.

To contemplate beauty while aware of your own vulnerability, to receive such contemplation as a reward for taking a risk… that was something else entirely. Living.

And to share that risk, as well as that reward, with someone else…

His hand inched in her direction, stopping when he felt the velvety warmth of her fingers. Their gazes still rested over the panorama, but their fingers tangled like the tiny white starfighters until they found the firmness of a grasp.

Then she looked at him.

He turned to her.

With a wiggle of her shoulders, Karyn’s red overcoat slid to the ground, her shiny sleeveless armor sparkling under the starlight, her tanned arms a canvas for the red and blue suns.

With a thought, Logan’s breastplate’s buckles unstrapped, and the armor fell to reveal his defined torso, heaving.

“Have you ever done this?” she asked him, gloved hand caressing his chest.

“In game?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” her hand slid down. “I can show you,”

“Wait,” Logan Spacebound said, pushing her hand away. “Close your eyes.”

She stared at him intently, but then complied. He studied her face, her strong, tanned, determined face. That Karyn was gorgeous was undeniable. But, with her eyes closed, she was not really Carol.

In a flicker, Logan Spacebound was gone.

Scott Williams stood up silently, breath stuck in his throat. Carol remained peacefully immersed in the game. He knelt next to her, and stroking her VR clad cheeks, touched her lips with his.

Her helmet dropped to the ground, and she opened her eyes. Heaving.

“Have you ever done this?” Scott asked.

“Out of the game?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” his hands slid down. “Neither have I.”