[mention]Mineira1986[/mention] Ah, you're right. That would have been good. Guess it's a missed opportunity.
Chapter 9
Sweet Becky closed her eyes, and Aziyah opened them.
She sighed. Her tablet was beeping at her frantically, but Aziyah knew what it was trying to tell her without looking at the screen: her vital signs suggested that she had had an unusually intense free-play session, and AISPA was assigning her a meditation session to re-center herself in the real world. She dismissed the notification, sat upright with her eyes closed, and took a deep breath as instructed by the calm voice emanating from the device.
Ten minutes later, a chime indicated that her session was finished. She opened her eyes. The session was a bother, but it did help. She now felt less like Sweet Becky and more like Aziyah. Besides, she would be rewarded for it, and for now, collecting AISPA tokens for good behavior seemed like the only way she'd be able to advance in her Happy Trails life for a while.
Aziyah padded off to the bathroom and stripped off her nightclothes as she read the personalized news digest off of her smart mirror. It didn't hold her interest very long this morning. At her age, it was mostly fluff pieces anyways. She stepped into the shower. The feel of hot water on her bare skin was an immense relief, and it wasn't long before her body, hair, and teeth were all cleaned to AISPA's satisfaction. She emerged from the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, where she started to prepare a meal for two. Breakfast for her, dinner for her father, who would be coming home before much longer. He was on the fourth shift, and Aziyah, like most minors, was on the second. His free-play time started two hours after hers ended, and hers started two hours after his ended, so they only had four hours per day together at most, which was often cut into by social or AISPA-assigned enrichment programs for either of them.
Aziyah's father greeted her with a surprise kiss on the back of the head. She let out a yelp of surprise before turning to see who it was and hugging him. "Hey, Dad…" she murmured, "How was your day?"
Aziyah and her father worked on finishing the meal together while she half-listened to him talk about one of his co-workers. "I keep telling Faysal he's going to burn out if he doesn't have some real fun. He still won't try anything but relaxation and educational programs," he said, "That's the trouble with everyone who moves here as an adult. They think they need to act like an adult all the time."
He dished out a portion of the meal for each of them and carried them to the table. "Now that's fine most places. But our society's version of adulthood is not something you can sustain full time." He took a bite of his food and stared at his daughter. "Aziyah, honey, are you ok? You're being awfully quiet today and you've barely touched your breakfast."
Aziyah forced her thoughts back to reality. "Oh… I'm fine. Bad free-play session. I don't really want to talk about it."
Her father studied her for a moment longer and sighed. "I get it. You're growing up. You need your privacy," he said, "I worry about you Aziyah. It's times like this I miss your mother the most."
"You don't have to worry," Aziyah assured him, "I'm fine."
"I hope so. You're growing into a fine young woman, and well, I just wish you had someone in your life who could teach you how to be one. You can't learn everything from pamphlets and educational programs."
Aziyah's stomach twisted as her thoughts immediately turned to the threat that Shy Sarah had conveyed from Lady Maybelle about teaching her the proper way for a young lady to behave. "Thanks, but I think I can figure it out on my own."
---
Samson clung to the metal pole with both hands as the train slowed to a stop. He had arrived at his station. The small boy did his best to keep pace with the other passengers as they spilled out onto the platform. Samson located an empty part of the station and stopped to get his bearings.
The station he had disembarked at was part of the commercial district closest to his home. It was little more than a neighborhood shopping center. Still, it was a sensory overload of illuminated signs as each little shop competed for the crowd's attention with glowing, animated signage.
Samson wasn't here to shop, however. It just happened to be the closest station to the park where he would work on his assignments. The underground native squinted as he passed the blinding shop displays and turned down a small side tunnel. It was easy to miss if you didn't know it was there. He walked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the much softer tunnel lights that came to life as he passed them. He winced once again as he stepped outside into the purple grow lights of the park.
The diligent boy made his way down the winding path, past the raised planters laden with a carefully planned mix of food crops, flowers, shrubs, and trees. His task today was to monitor the growth of a selection of plants in the park. It was tedious work, but it would serve as lab credit for his biology class while also earning him a bonus for spending time in nature. He had worked out a deal with the manager of the park facility where he would also submit his findings to them, which would earn Sampson credit for contributing to the community and the manager credit for creating an educational opportunity for a minor. He would then grant Sampson permission to use one of the grow cabinets for his own project. His plan, created with the help of his sister, was to divide it between flavorful herbs and berries which would go for a premium when fresh, and high-calorie root vegetables, which he would donate to the public food stores and earn credit for philanthropy.
Samson worked at a casual but steady pace, photographing each specimen with his tablet and typing in a few notes about each one for his report. He was lining up his camera to get a shot of a dwarf lemon tree when it began to chime. It was a call from Samson's sister.
"Hey, Mia," he answered as he sat down on an earthen park bench to talk, "How's the surface?"
"Oh… you know. Surface-y…" came the answer, "Too bright, too windy, too open."
Samson smirked. "The surface is better in the winter anyways," he answered, remembering the time he and his classmates watched the aurora, "But I thought you were really looking forward to this trip?"
"Once I get to the good parts, I'll stop whining," Mia promised, "But we haven't gotten to see Glacier Ranch OR the Polaris Zoo yet. Just a lot of hiking through mud and camping. Natural sleep is the worst, and it's too bright anyways. But that's not what I called to talk about. I got your message."
Samson sighed. "Yeah… eventful night."
"I'll say. Pretty profitable one too, from what you said. Though, it sounds like that was a unique situation. I hope you have a plan for tonight."
"Yeah… I got some of the girls agreed to help protect the place in return for their release and a cut of the profits. A couple of them are well-connected in the area, so we should be ok."
"Good move. You're learning fast…" Mia answered, "Listen… the reason I called is because I have an idea… I won't be able to work out all of the details until I get back, and of course, I'll want to see how the rest of the week goes for you…"
"What's the idea?" asked Samson impatiently.
"Well, all the time we've been trying to set up our inter-game trade network, we've been focused on items. I think the real money is in people. If the novelty of seeing you in Happy Trails was enough to cause all that…" Mia continued, "I think I can convince a pretty sizable group to transfer to Razor Fang. We'll have to pay the first few, but then others might even pay for the privilege of doing it as part of a larger group. Then you…"
"…I could find clan leaders who would pay to host them!" exclaimed Sampson quietly as he saw the shape of his sister's plan, "We could place them in the bazaars, the temples…"
"And then…" she prompted with an expectant tone.
"Then we get together a group from Razor Fang to transfer and start the whole process over," Sampson answered in awe.
"Exactly. But we're going to need capital to get this started. As soon as you get back in-game I need you to send a telegram to Clever Anne Ginger and tell her…"
---
Margarita leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. She held a well-worn map of the campus in her hands. The anxious girl knew where she wanted to go, but the map was a helpful reminder of how close the dorm buildings were to the classrooms. Summer was one of the most challenging times of the year for her, when the tunnels connecting the school buildings were closed down, leaving her no choice but to brave the open skies.
Margarita reached for the pendant that was hanging over her uniform blouse. She nervously stroked the canine figure with a single finger, which momentarily calmed her down. An older boy and girl passed her and began whispering to each other. Margarita suspected they were talking about her, but it was the least of her worries. She took one last breath and quickly walked out the door, holding the map over her head.
Margarita winced when she heard the whirring of a mini-drone overhead. Roughly the size of a softball, these sophisticated machines were the reason no one minded the nation's youth playing with guns in their free-play. The drones would immediately incapacitate anyone who showed violent intent while carrying a deadly weapon. They kept everyone
safe. Of course, unlike in Happy Trails, incapacitation in real life was not always a clean, safe process, and there was always the risk of injury or death.
The Polaris kids… all the students from stable countries… walked past them like they weren't even there. If they only knew what those things were capable of... In Polaris, only the police controlled them. Margarita reminded herself of this as she walked past the lovingly groomed flowerbed that adorned the campus.
There was a time when Margarita enjoyed that peace of mind back in
La Gran California. The country was celebrating the anniversary of its unification with a grand parade held in another city. Margarita's parents were busy with work, but their housekeeper Savannah happily drove her to see it. That was the day that the rebels gained control of the city's drone network and turned it against the population, setting off the civil war that raged to this day and made it unsafe for Margarita to return home. History would remember it as The Bakersfield Massacre. Folklore dubbed it The Day of the Fireflies. But, to Margarita, it was the day she watched a drone land on Savannah's neck and explode, taking half of her skull with it. There were so many blasts, so much screaming… Margarita only survived because Savannah's lifeless corpse concealed her from the drones' facial recognition software.
Margarita forced her mind back into the present. Most days, someone would accompany her on these walks. Usually a school counselor, sometimes a teacher or security guard who happened to be available, on a couple of occasions, a helpful upperclassman. But today, she had decided she was ready to do it on her own. Her remedial AISPA program had promised her a significant incentive for it. All the while, the software monitored her vital signs. "AISPA never makes you do anything you can't handle," the counselor had assured her. Even so, Margarita wished that the program could detect her anxiety BEFORE it sent her heart rate and blood pressure through the roof, making her feel like she was going to pass out.
Margarita broke into a sprint, shoving her way past a group of students loitering near the entrance to the dorm. "S-sorry," she yelled in response to their shouts and complaints. She slowed to a brisk walk once safely indoors, up several flights of stairs into the safety of her private room.
The Bakersfield Massacre had so decimated the political and military leadership of Grand California that both her parents had been given hasty promotions to high-ranking leadership positions. It was thanks to their new privilege that Margarita had this luxurious room in a prestigious foreign boarding school, far away from the violence. She flopped onto the sofa and pulled the large plush toy sitting there close to her.
After cuddling for several minutes, she began to feel better. "I did it!" she whispered ecstatically into the plushie's pointed ear, "I'm going to get an extra prize token tonight. Do you think I should get you a new coat, or maybe save up to bring your little sister into the game?"