Mind Mage - Chapter 3

“They’re where?!”

      “Kellen, please,” I winced. I wasn’t fond of loud sounds any more than I was of bright lights. “It’s not as if I put them there but it is our duty to find the student and insure that they’re not in danger. Don’t you want to know who else is out of bounds? And why?”

      “No, it’s not our job. We can simply demand that our student rebuild within Game boundaries and ignore whatever else is going on out there. Burdra, listen. By my count, we still have a few registrations to go and it’s getting near lunch hour. We have a full afternoon what with mind-stretching exercises plus basic Grid geography and familiar parameters to be covered still.”

      “The Twins could …” I started.

      “It’s not their job to do registrations. I know they can do them and are qualified to do so but they should be at their monitors. They chose to be techs, not active mages. You can’t keep trying to coax them into the Game. You know as well as I do that while they would be top Mages in a short time, they also know that eventually they would have to face one another and they could never make that decision.”

      I hoped that Bobby and Mike weren’t listening in on our conversation. Techs could monitor any part of the Grid if they chose but the boys had a good understanding of my preference for privacy. Kellen’s argument settled in. “You’re right.” As he brightened, I continued, “About the boys, but not about checking for our student. We have to assume that whoever it is, may be in some sort of trouble. Windsong can have us there and back in no time, then we can finish the rest of the registrations quickly.”

      Kellen knew when to give in on one of our arguments. He snatched his jacket off a hook by the door and glared back at me over his shoulder. “Well, come on then. Let’s get this done.” He looked overhead (funny how many of us do that to talk to techs) and called up, “Boys, if we head straight east to the Edge, how far south or north should we go before heading Out?”

      “Um, sorry, we missed part of your request, Kalos. Please repeat.”

      Kellen repeated his instructions for detailed directions and held the door open for me. I stepped out and whistled for Windsong. She trotted from the back pasture where Kellen’s Arabian stead was tossing his head and prancing about. “That’s not nice to tease the poor stallion,” I whisper-scolded into her cheek when she leaned in to nuzzle me. I leapt up into the large saddle and reached down a hand to Kellen. He gave Abdul a quick glance and then joined me in the saddle. Riding Windsong rather than a standard horse, even one as gifted as Abdul, gave us a couple of advantages: she was faster than the wind plus she was capable of detecting danger much sooner and from a further distance than any horse. Not to mention that we could fly when we needed to do so. Kellen repeated the boys’ instructions to us and Windsong lifted off.

      I loved the feeling of being aloft. I know that many find the heights at which she flew to be dizzying. Sometimes when we were out training I would assume the form of an eagle to attempt to match her flight. However, shape-shifting is not one of my better talents. Below, the boggy terrain of Tir Ferma was shades of brown and green broken by the stark white lines of salt marshes. Miracle had a fondness for difficult terrains which was probably why so many of us higher ranks had flying familiars. Well, that and the increased speed to reach regions that would take more than a full day’s walk instead of an hour’s flight. The two townships from Kellen’s demesne to the Edge disappeared quickly and we turned southward to follow the border of the Game Grid. We were high enough that I could pick out a good-sized demesne off to the southwest of us. I poked Kellen’s arm about my waist and pointed. “Vincos Ruutli?” I shouted into the roaring wind created by Windsong’s wings. I felt Kellen’s shoulders lift in reply. “Has to be,” I muttered to myself. I had never managed to find her anywhere but on The Great Plains. “Got you now,” I thought triumphantly. Windsong sent a question mark into my mind. “Sorry, Sweetie, talking to myself again.” She shook her head.

      As we reached midway down the Region of Roko, Windsong slowed to a hover at the edge of The Edge. “Set us down,” I instructed. Unless the space is recognized under Game rules, any mage activity outside the Edge could go awry and that included the existence of a familiar. I had no wish to lose such a magnificent creation. She dropped in circles, avoiding the shimmering field to one side. Once we were on firm ground again, I released her to graze. Taking a deep breath I turned toward the seeming void of Idiofyllia.

      When I give the lecture to new mages about the differences between Reality, Dreamscape, and Gamescape, it is difficult to explain that all of them are real but also only in our minds. We assume from birth that what we call Reality truly exists but we have no proof that it does. Throughout the centuries, some philosophers and quantum physicists have suggested that Reality is in fact, a common illusion. I don’t debate their thinking, just present it to the students. Dreamscape is a potential reality that shifts its nature according to the minds of the meditators and dreamers that walk its mutable time and space. Some ancient religions and philosophies referred to it as the Astral Plains or Akasha. In Reality, if we enter into a fistfight, we will likely end up with a bruise or cut. But when we awake from a dream or a meditation where we were in a fight, we are much less likely to find bruises or cuts. The Game blends Reality and Dreamscape. If you get physically hurt in the Game Grid, it is rare to return to Reality without some degree of the same bruises and cuts.

Just as an energy- or magic-worker can mold the reality of Dreamscape, so can they create in the Grid. The difference is that in Dreamscape, the creation exists only as long as the dreamer is there to control it, provided that another’s mind doesn’t overpower the design. Whereas in the Grid, once a mage has created their demesne or made adjustments, the Game program turns the creation into Game reality. Only when a Mage dies or retires do their creations cease to exist, with the exception of the battle-death of a familiar.  However, a Mage can only create on a Lot for which they have registered ownership. I’m not certain that anyone has ever named the fabrics of Reality or of Dreamscape, other than the Norse name Ginnungagap that I learned as a child at home. Many philosophers have tried to describe the essence where time and space have no meaning and every meaning, where any creative mind can find ideas and build them in thought. The ethereal quality of this state was depicted by Miracle as a foggy space with thin substance that has a near mirror-like quality to it. Kind of like how a child imagines clouds are to angels. I always admired his concept but now it gave me a chill as I readied myself to step Out.

In the Game, one can claim the discovery of an Out Lot by stepping onto it accidently with only one foot during a battle. Step out with both feet and you wake up at home the next day with a raging headache, a bad case of nausea, and no personal token. An explorer may not lay claim to any Outlands but can traverse them as if in Dreamscape. I stepped onto a trail between two stands of trees only to find the ground shimmer into mossy mounds. “Kellen! Stop it. Just follow my lead.” The ground reformed to a woodland path as my choice superseded his. I took another step and abruptly the landscape became the yard of any average home in a smaller city. This was not my doing. I looked over my shoulder to see Kellen shake his head, followed by a shrug. The lawn was well kept to the point of being called manicured. There was a cut stone walkway winding through small gardens leading up to a white cottage surrounded by a wooden picket fence. Sitting on the pale grey roof of the cottage was Miss Giggles, staring not toward my demesne as instructed, but straight out into more of the Outlands. I stopped before the gate, rightfully suspecting that it marked where her shields protected the property for her.

“Hello?” I was torn between the hope that she was an amateur who simply didn’t know that she was off the Grid and the idea that her earlier behavior in class hinted at a rebellious manner that would give rise to the idea of building on the Edges. “Are you aware that your demesne is not within Game parameters?”

Miss Giggles slowly turned her head in our direction like someone waking from sleep. “What? Oh hey, Vincos Hargrove. And Kalos Dorsey. I didn’t see you two approaching.”

“Do you mind coming down to the gate to let us in?” Kellen interrupted my sputtered attempt to demand information as well as to scold her for inattention or failure to follow instructions. My mind was flying in different directions. I gave him a grateful glance. As the girl’s body clambered down the side of the cottage, he muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Don’t attack her. She’ll just hunker down.” The second glance I gave him had less warmth than the first.

Miss Giggles dashed to the gate and opened it with a flourish, “Welcome to my humble abode.” She looked directly at me as she continued, “You did say that any building is acceptable. That it didn’t have to be a tower or anything special. I do hope you like it. It’s kind of what I always imagined living in. I’m sorry, I’m prattling on. May I offer you refreshments?”

Refreshments? We had a new recruit who already knew how to create foodstuffs on the Grid? Before I could comment, Kellen gripped my wrist and replied, “That would be lovely … uh, I’m sorry but I’ve forgotten your name.” We started up the stone walkway which I pretended to study.

            The red-gold hair hanging over her slim shoulders and well down her back swung as she turned to reply over her shoulder. “Serene. Serene du Carrefour.” I reached back over a century’s worth of memories to dig into my university French courses, but came up empty. Well, except for the thought that strawberry blonde hair and French heritage rarely went together. Of course, nowadays those heritage markers are blurring. The old concept of countries has long since been washed away by corporate holdings. I returned my thoughts to the conversation, only vaguely aware that Kellen had complimented her name and then her property.

            “Thank you. I inherited the property from my father. He was one of the first to petition for the right to own Edge space. Somehow his claim on it didn’t cease when he quit the Game so I’m hoping I can just reuse it.”

            “So you didn’t create any of this?” Kellen couldn’t stop me from demanding some information.

            “Well, not really, but I did fix it up. When I got here, it was just a grey shack and a couple of trees. I prettied the place up a lot since then.”

            I felt back to her shields as I looked at the willowy figure holding the front door to the cottage open. “Well then, you have created a demesne of your own, haven’t you? I was unaware that we had a legacy among our candidates.”

            “Well, maybe not a legacy per se,” offered Serene. “I mean, I am a legacy at Phi Delta Phi Fraternity because both my dads were, but I think the term I’d use here is scion.”

            A lawyer? Great. Even worse, a ProGlobal lawyer. ProGlobal reinvented corporate litigation and shareholder regulations during The Absorption, back in 2043. They had accumulated the best lawyers of the time in order to achieve their coup. These days, they cultivated their lawyers from the cradle on up. I was surprised that she would even have time to be involved in the Game. Top ranking student, probably. I was beginning to understand the arrogance displayed in the classroom earlier. Arrogance could be a source of great confidence, a bonus, or a source of hubris, a clear hindrance. This girl would be one to watch. If honed well, she could easily replace me as top Mage for ProGlobal, something I had begun to wish for. I’d been in the Game for over forty years, all my old friends and rivals were gone or retired. While the younger players nipped at my heels, not one had shown the skill, devotion, and ingenuity to succeed me.

            Kellen interrupted my thoughts. “Actually, my dear, we really cannot stay. We still have to register a couple other students. You are welcome to hang out here a while longer or head back to Reality to grab a long lunch break.”

            “We’ll get your Ident Code and get the techs to look into permission for you to remain here if that is your choice,” I added quickly. “Maybe we’ll take a raincheck on that offer of refreshments?” Both Serene and Kellen nodded.

            “That would be great. I’d love to have you visit again,” she replied with enthusiasm. I noticed that she was looking straight at Kellen when she said it.

            Kellen and I headed back down the walkway with Serene watching us from the doorway. As we approached the gate from this side, I turned back. “Oh, Serene? Take a couple minutes first and extend your boundary right down to the Grid. It will make your claim more valid.” She waved to indicate she had heard and we continued the few steps to the Edge. As we passed again onto regulation space, I reached out and stopped Kellen’s progress.

            “Okay, tell me that not one thing of all that was weird to you.”

            “I have some questions,” Kellen admitted, “but I thought it best that we didn’t frighten or anger her. Right now, she is actually beyond our control by Game rules. Anyone whose demesne is entirely beyond the borders is termed a renegade and is not allowed in regulation play. She will need personal sponsorship to be allowed to challenge for any adjoining property on the Grid. That gives us some power over her.”

            “Are you offering to be that sponsor? Because I think she knows exactly every bit of that and was hoping to make inroads with one of us.” When Kellen raised a questioning eyebrow, I continued with a chuckle. “Oh you men, you still don’t notice when a woman is trying to play you. Her repetition of the invitation for a visit was directed at you, not me.”

            Kellen shrugged. “Well, she will need someone, and you have to admit that she is a pretty thing. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her.”

            “Just be careful, my friend, that’s all I ask. Now, let’s pass along her Ident to the boys and get our next instructions. You want Windsong and me to drop you off somewhere?”

            To our surprise, the Twins had taken it upon themselves to call in a third tech and had jumped in to each complete one registration, leaving only three students probably anxious to go grab something to eat before the grueling afternoon sessions began. Since they wanted to do another, I offered to send Kellen off for his noonday break. “I managed to grab a drink and a bite before fetching you to go Out with me. You need sustenance, so go get some,” I ordered when he attempted to be gentlemanly. I appreciated men who maintained the old niceties even though they were never expected anymore but a Mage must maintain their strength, mentally and physically, at all times. Being polite could get you into trouble. And that was what was worrying me the most about Kellen offering to become Serene’s patron. If she was as devious as I worried she might be, Serene would eat his sweetness up and spit him out over a glass of wine. Kellen shimmered out of the Grid and I called Windsong to take me back to Centreville.

            Centreville was my home away from home away from home. Oh my, if you stopped to count, I actually had four homes, one in ProGlobal Central City in Reality, plus my demesne in Pa Forest and my apartment in Grahame Tower in Centreville on the Grid. I’ll explain the fourth later. Centreville is supposed to be pronounced as if one was speaking French but more often than not, it was Sen-ter-vil to the players. Centreville is a huge metropolis shared by mostly ProGlobal and GAF Services Mages. The two mega corps were never rivals even before the Absorption and thus an unofficial alliance developed over the years. It has helped that in recent years our Chairman of the Board married their Executive Director of Operations. Sylvia Grahame and Jessica Horovitch were “THE Power Couple”, according to the ragblogs.

            Centreville can be found literally at the center of the Grid covering two full regions, from 8:5 to 9:6. From my demesne, I just have to pass through Doogie’s property and keeping on that angle, step into the lower outskirts of Centreville. I often tease Doogie that he was creating the suburbs when he set up his demesne. The Grid metropolis houses mostly high-rise apartments. Each apartment building is owned by either a ranking officer of either ProGlo or Gaff, or by a founding member of the Mage Team. In the early days, that was how we kept Mages from ever really retiring. To use an apartment in the building one simply has to make a request to the owner. I use one quarter of the eighth floor of Jon’s Grahame Tower, a building that stretches over a total of thirty-six Lots. Yep, my Gamespace apartment is nine times larger than most Mages’ first property. What can I say? It paid, and still pays, to be ProGlobal’s top Mind Mage.

            I had Windsong drop me off on the roof of Grahame Tower and sent her home. The last registrant I had to meet had a one Lot apartment on the first floor which meant that they were under Jon’s patronage. I keep after him to force his students to build a proper demesne but he thinks that he’s helping them get a good foot in the door this way. What can I do? He’s my boss, essentially. As I rode the elevator to the bottom of the Tower, my mind did its usual wandering: Who else had been active off the Grid today? What was Serene staring at when we arrived? Why would anyone be exploring the Out in the middle of a morning, especially when ProGlobal was doing newbie registration? Or were they out there because our business would cover their activity? The stop of the liftbox caught me off guard and I felt the jolt in my legs. “It’s not Real time,” I muttered to myself. I use that litany to convince myself that nothing really hurts or tires me in Gamespace. If I have to be honest, I’m not sure it works but I want to believe it does. “Belief is everything.”

            A knock on the numbered door told me quickly that this student had erratic shields. “See, Jon,” I muttered. “You coddle them and they don’t apply themselves fully.” To my surprise, the door was opened by a boy of about eight to ten years of age. “Hello, I’m Vincos Hargrove. Is this your place or a parent’s?”

            “The apartment is mine. My father owns the building.”

            “Jonny Grahame?” My stars, when had I last seen the boy? Nine years? Was his Naming ceremony really that long ago? Real time seemed inane once you passed your hundredth birthday.

            “The same.” His stately manners were impeccable as he made a slight bow from the waist. “Would you like to come in, Vincos? The apartment is small but I have done some renovations on it.”

Since I was well aware that Grahame Tower offered nothing but four sheltered walls to a Mage, I was interested in what the boy had done with the gift from his father. The walls were still stark but colored an odd shade of blue-green. The kitchen contained nothing more than a kettle and a toaster oven on a grey marble counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. There was one old grey couch facing a video screen in the living room. “Did the techs hook you up with the Grid yet?” I asked, indicating the vidscreen.

“No. I was waiting to ask you to make the request when you register my demesne. Would you ask them, please?”

I looked up at the ceiling and mentally chuckled at the movement. “Tech booth? Can you hook the vidscreen directly in front of me up to the Grid for this student, please?” I realized that I hadn’t asked who had been left to monitor the registrations.

I felt rather than heard the reply. As we waited, I stepped to the window to look at the narrow street just beyond the window. Since only Mages and high-ranking Corp officials entered the metropolis, there were no cars or buses out there. Not even a bicycle. Mages walked, or rode familiars. Corp visitors tended to stay in the hotels or apartments. Thus the scene outside was amusing as a young man accompanied by a camel and a wolf stepped around a graceful black-skinned woman in an outrageous orange-and-green outfit walking alongside a hovering pixie. I stopped myself from rapping on the window to catch Arienth’s attention. To date, she was the only Mage to convince an actual magical being to travel from the Fey Realm into the Game. We have game-controlled, or NPC, faeries and the like, but they’re not available as familiars. ProGlobal’s petition to the Universal Games Organization to create a new specialization of Vincos for her was still under review but hopefully Arienth would soon join me at the head of the Team parades. I watched the panorama for a few quiet minutes, taking in the lack of hustle and bustle that would be found on a city street in Real space.

The growing sound of the Game’s underlying hum was amplified as Jonny’s Gamespace vidscreen came to life. “Ouch! Jonny, turn that down please. You will have to learn how to modulate the wavelength so that doesn’t happen if you want to watch the Game in Gamespace. Talk to Bobby and Mike; they’ll help you.” I stopped short of patting the boy on the head and rested my hand on his shoulder. “You have done well for a start. Keep at it when you can. My one suggestion is that you work on those shields a little more. I got a bit of a shock when I went to rap on the door. You don’t want everyone to think you’re trying to be a Galt or hermit.”

I headed back toward the door. “I’ll just pull your Ident out of the files when I get back.”

“Please, no.” Jonny’s voice sounded pleading. “Can you just let me recite it? Please?” I grinned inwardly at his request, wondering if it was childish delight at reciting his code for the registration or a need to be seen just like everyone else. “Sure. Let me open up to the booth. Bobby? Mike? Whomever? One of you want to take this number down, please?” I let Jonny recite his code and amped the information to the techs listening in.

“Hey!” Bobby’s voice sounded in the room. “Is that you, Jonny?”

Jonny’s face lit up with delight. “Yep. It’s me.”

“Well, welcome to the Game, little buddy.”

“Yeah, congrats on making it into the program, Bud,” came Mike’s tone.

“This is awesome!” both boys said in unison, I laughed at the unified delight in the older boys. “Maybe we can train together sometime.”

“Okay, guys,” I interrupted. “Double volume down here. Obviously if you two are back in place, we are done for the morning. I’ll be out in a minute and then we can all go to lunch. Want to join us, Jonny?”

“Nah, thanks,” the boy replied, self-consciously. “My nan packed me a lunch. I’m going to go sit out by the fountain to get some sun. Dad said that the first afternoon is the hardest so I want to just relax.”

“Smart kid.” I held my hand out and he gave it a firm shake. “Do you mind if I shift out from here?” At the shake of his head, I let go of my hold on Gamespace and allowed Reality to envelop me once more.