The kitchen at the Old Mill Road house bustled, even with only three people. Miranda packed a whole biscuit into her mouth, only to be stopped by a glare from Prospero.
“But they’re so good!” she complained.
“Then eat them slowly.”
Ariel pulled the coffee decanter off the hot plate and filled Prospero’s mug again before sitting down to her own breakfast.
“How soon will Hunting Signs be ready?” the executive asked.
“Today. I finished the monsters last night - they’re perfect!”
“They’re ugly,” Miranda clarified.
“That’s the point, Randi, they’re monsters. I was talking with Dan, and he was like, why not give them an extra set of arms coming out of their elbows, and I told him that wouldn’t be practical, but we put together a concept that has another set at the shoulders, and it works. They don’t look like a friendly Chewbacca anymore, especially with the dreads.”
Miranda made a face.
“And Castleworks?”
“Oh, ages ago. The art on that was just fun. Story writing is where the hitch is on that one. Lucy says it’s too Arthurian. Jesse says that that’s the point, and then they fight and argue.” Ariel looked down into her coffee cup and shook her head. “They should just go out already.”
“Because they’re fighting?”
“I swear they get high off it.”
“And Dragonline?”
“Post-production. It’s with our testers and we’re cleaning up the last few major bugs.”
“What’s the report from advertising?”
“Games are popular, so long as we’re not using virtual reality.”
Prospero must have caught the disappointment in her voice because he almost smiled. “Sychorax Studios breached the consumers’ trust. We need to rebuild, and that means safe, normal, high-quality video games.”
“When can we start using MA93 again?”
“When you are cleared of charges and Diana and Cal Blackburn are safely in prison.”
“That could take years.”
“It will be worth it.”
Miranda used the distraction to stuff half a biscuit in her mouth, and she closed her eyes, humming while she chewed. Then she gulped loudly, took a large swig of milk, and said, “Daddy, I want a job.”
“Miranda, you don’t need one.”
“I’m bored, and Ariel gets to play with code all day and I’ve got nothing useful to do! I could go to the office and everything.”
Prospero set down his mug. “Are you sure? There are a lot of people.”
“There were a lot of people at the airport too,” Miranda said stoutly, “and I managed. I just have to get in the door; Ariel will let me use her office, won’t you?”
Ariel glanced at Prospero, wanting to agree but uncertain if her employer would allow it. The businessman was not unfair, but he was strict, and sometimes felt more like a master than a boss. But she was doing what she loved, so-
“You’ll be in her way, darling.”
“She won’t.” Ariel contradicted quickly.
Miranda beamed.
“You never seemed much interested in code.”
“No, I can’t make heads or tales of it. I want to be a story writer, like you.”
Prospero smiled indulgently, and then something else passed behind his eyes. “Ariel, scrap all the virtual reality games Sychorax developed while the data tap was in use. You have my permission to access the WVG units. You two build me a game, and if I like it, we’ll put it on the market.”
Ariel winced at the thought of getting rid of all that work, but Miranda only clapped her hands happily and half-crawled across the table to hug her father. “You don’t mind if we keep it a big secret, do you?”
“Of course not. Surprise me, my dear.”
Twenty minutes later, Miranda was in Ariel’s office, breathing herself away from a panic attack. Ariel let her be and turned on her computer, shuffling her work around and turning open the blinds to let the sun pour into the room. Her second story office commanded a view of the sea, had three excellent computer monitors, and a massive oak desk perfect to her needs.
Miranda flopped herself into the opposite chair, still a little pale, but clearly excited.
“So, here’s my idea. The gamers get marooned on this island, and they have to survive and find a way off.”
“Okay.”
“There’s a whole bunch of spirits who can help them, but they’ve been enslaved by an evil sorceress. So you have to rescue them so they can help.”
“Help how?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Miranda admitted. “I was thinking, I dunno, maybe they’re associated with the elements, like a water sprite could purify the water so you wouldn’t get sick. And an earth sprite would show you what food was good.”
“Without the sorceress finding out?”
“Yeah.”
“I can see that working.”
“It needs more, obviously, but is that enough for you to start designing with?”
“Oh yeah.” Ariel’s fingers were already itching with the thought of using the WVG unit again.
“How do you design virtual reality?” Miranda asked.
“You wanna see?”
The other woman nodded, and Ariel unpacked two WVG units. They were shaped almost like glasses, with a graceful rectangular block in front of the eyes and a thick band that clamped gently to the sides of the head. Ear pieces bent in to fit comfortably. Small sensors arched off of it, burying themselves into Ariel’s hair and against her scalp when she switched the unit on. She toggled the view box up out of her way so she could see and held up the other.
“This is a WVG unit. The viewer transfers all the visuals to your eyes, and the earpieces control the sound. These sensors pick up your brain waves and send the information wirelessly to the mainframe, where it is translated into your character’s speech and movement. While you’re wearing this, you can do anything you can imagine strongly enough.”
“Doesn’t that mean you can do anything?” Miranda lifted the unit carefully, and Ariel helped her get it on.
“Not quite. A lot of people are limited in their imagination by what they think they’re capable of. That comfortable? Okay. Breathe deeply, and focus yourself. It helps if you close your eyes; the viewer will project through the lids.”
She dropped her own viewer and shut her eyes.
The system powered up, sensors shifting on her scalp as they accustomed to her thought patterns.
“Welcome, Ariel Minster.” Ariel’s own voice rang through her earpieces, hollow in the darkness. “I am your guide, Ariel.”
Miranda squeaked with excitement beside her.
“To permit you to communicate with the mainframe, I need to learn your unique thought patterns. Without using your mouth, please repeat the words you see in front of you.”
Text flashed in front of Ariel’s eyes, and she focused on each word, repeating it in her head.
“Tell me what color and shape you see.”
Yellow triangle. Red Square. Blue circle.
“I have learned your thought patterns. All this information will be stored in this unit should you use it again. I will now learn your movements. Keep your body completely still during this exercise.”
A box appeared in the darkness, and Ariel relaxed her shoulders, letting herself fall into the sensation of moving the mind.
“Walk around the box clockwise.”
A distant part of Ariel’s mind registered that Miranda was flopping a little, still growing accustomed to communicating with the mainframe’s manipulation around her.
“Walk counterclockwise. Thank you. Walk clockwise backwards. And counterclockwise backwards. Please step onto the box, left foot first. Turn clockwise. Raise your right hand above your head. Hold your left hand to the side. Extend your arms fully. Please move your right thumb.”
She moved each appendage on the instruction of the system, growing more comfortable with each gesture. She stepped on and off the box several times before following an instruction to jump off and sit down on the box. From there, she went through a few postures - several customers had complained about the length of this process, none had complained about how well the mainframe read their movements ever after.
“Excellent. You have now entered a virtual world, and your movements are constrained only by your imagination.”
The dark space with the box faded, landing Ariel in a bare space of grids and a few gurgling, half-designed creatures. Miranda appeared beside her a few moments later.
“I thought this was a game?”
Ariel shook her head. “There’s no game in the mainframe, besides a few things we were working on. This,” she gestured to the blue grid on black, “is the root of the design I was working on when I was taken in, and this is what I’ll build off of.”
Her laptop was in her lap, already logged into the system. She clicked a few keys, the game blurring around her, and then the laptop was a tablet in her hands and a revolving screen beside her.
“You design inside the game?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t have to,” she replied, “but it does make it easier if I can see - and feel - what I’m doing. What do you want for our island?”
“Aren’t you the designer?”
“Design and story need to work together.”
“How about a Mediterranean island. With lots of cliffs and nooks and crannies.”
The grid began to spread in front of them, molding over the ghost of terrain while Miranda watched, open mouthed. Ariel kept an eye on her monitor as she sculpted casually for basic outline and size. The island ought to be nearly round, she decided, with plenty of inlets and small nooks.
A dull pounding behind her ears told her she should leave the interface. It wasn’t wise to work too long like this, computer logged in and body split between focus on the game and her physical interaction with the computer. She saved and exited, flipping up the viewer and blinking to let her eyes adjust. Beside her, Miranda opened her eyes and seemed to pop her ears.
“We could do just about anything!”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s creepy, though, having the mainframe in your head.”
“It’s perfectly safe.”
Ariel gently lifted off her WVG unit and helped Miranda untangle the sensors from her wild hair.
“My head hurts,” the young woman complained.
“Ibuprofen in the drawer.” Ariel pointed. “Take a break.”
“You don’t need to?”
She didn’t want to. Couldn’t even if she had a migraine. The images were coming too fast, an imagination left dormant for too long, forced to work on lesser products than the ones she truly loved. “No.”
Ariel could see it. The island, the trees and cliffs and waterfalls, the little caves and nooks, the sorceress’s dwelling in the midst of a eucalyptus forest, all overhung with moss and surrounded with fog and strange calls on the air. She’d need to talk to Prospero about getting a sound designer into their group.
Miranda’s laptop chimed, and the soothing clack of keys washed over Ariel. Terrain first, she decided, then the creatures that inhabited it. She’d need that from Miranda’s story writing.
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