him along.”
Ghost was not surprised that there were humans with such an outlook. “Well, that’s understandable after what the Dark Queen did to them,” she said.
“She got me, too,” said B.E. passionately, “but I’m here and glad to be here. Anyway, just so you know, he has a different attitude than the rest of us.”
Right on cue, Gunnar came up, a very tall and youthful blond soldier, with powerful shoulders and a gleaming smile.
“Gunnar, this is Ghost.”
“Your Majesty.” He put down his kit bag and bowed.
“What took you so long?” challenged Anonemuss.
Gunnar straightened, still facing Ghost respectfully, before turning slowly about in order to reply. “There were a lot of important decisions to make.”
“Yeah, I see you put some time into that smile,” muttered B.E. just loud enough to be heard.
“How one appears in EI environments could be of great importance.”
“For a trooper?” sneered B.E.
“For any character class.”
“Yeah, well, forgive me if I think your good looks have more to do with your own vanity than strategy.”
Before Gunnar could respond to B.E.’s jibe, Cindella got up. “Enough.”
To look at, this team of humans was a superb combat squad that inspired confidence. To listen to, they sounded like squabbling children. Hoping her dismay at the division in their ranks did not show, Ghost took her airboard, slung it over her shoulder, and set off with the call, “Let’s go.”
Everyone followed at once, tracked by many curious stares until they reached the relative quiet of a side street. A small airbus was floating next to the pavement, and Milan was leaning against it. Ghost looked at him afresh, as her guests from New Earth must see him: a muscular young man with striking black tattoos on his arms.
“Hi, Erik, good to see you again.” Milan held out his fist and Cindella bumped knuckles with him. Without waiting to greet anyone else, Milan then slid open a side door. “Here you go.”
While the humans found seats in the bus, Ghost joined Milan in the front of the vehicle.
“All set?” With a quick glance back, Milan shot off, rushing down the street as though he was in a race. “By the way, thanks, everyone, for doing this.”
“You’re welcome,” Erik replied for them all.
For the next hour they swept through the streets of the vast metropolis that was Saga. There was very little chat, which was a disappointment to Ghost in that she had hoped to gain some more insight into B.E.’s comment that Gunnar was not here to help. The journey did, however, give her time to get used to the new avatars and run over their names several times until she had fixed them in her mind. Inny was the female soldier with long golden hair; B.E. was the man in the dark suit; Erik’s dad, Harald, had military-style, closely shaved hair; while Anonemuss had the appearance of a dumpy, middle-aged office worker. The most striking of them all, though, was Gunnar, who despite having a cracked and aged voice, looked like a teenage model, with his sparkling blue eyes, gleaming teeth, and youthful body.
Gliding to a halt before a warehouse, Milan pressed a remote control and a large metal shutter rose to let them enter. This part of town was more or less abandoned, and from the front, the warehouse had looked rather derelict; even the painted name of the former business—RYAN’S TEXTILES—had faded to the point that it could barely be made out. But inside, the building was ablaze with light and activity. It was sectioned into corridors created by the meter-high screens that separated off twenty or so workstations from each other. These open corridors focused on three hubs where clusters of people were gathered, talking and looking at monitors. Ghost imagined that viewing all the motion from above would be like looking down into an ants’ nest. With the human avatars trailing her, she led them to the nearest of the three large groups.
At their arrival, a young woman
Ghost was not surprised that there were humans with such an outlook. “Well, that’s understandable after what the Dark Queen did to them,” she said.
“She got me, too,” said B.E. passionately, “but I’m here and glad to be here. Anyway, just so you know, he has a different attitude than the rest of us.”
Right on cue, Gunnar came up, a very tall and youthful blond soldier, with powerful shoulders and a gleaming smile.
“Gunnar, this is Ghost.”
“Your Majesty.” He put down his kit bag and bowed.
“What took you so long?” challenged Anonemuss.
Gunnar straightened, still facing Ghost respectfully, before turning slowly about in order to reply. “There were a lot of important decisions to make.”
“Yeah, I see you put some time into that smile,” muttered B.E. just loud enough to be heard.
“How one appears in EI environments could be of great importance.”
“For a trooper?” sneered B.E.
“For any character class.”
“Yeah, well, forgive me if I think your good looks have more to do with your own vanity than strategy.”
Before Gunnar could respond to B.E.’s jibe, Cindella got up. “Enough.”
To look at, this team of humans was a superb combat squad that inspired confidence. To listen to, they sounded like squabbling children. Hoping her dismay at the division in their ranks did not show, Ghost took her airboard, slung it over her shoulder, and set off with the call, “Let’s go.”
Everyone followed at once, tracked by many curious stares until they reached the relative quiet of a side street. A small airbus was floating next to the pavement, and Milan was leaning against it. Ghost looked at him afresh, as her guests from New Earth must see him: a muscular young man with striking black tattoos on his arms.
“Hi, Erik, good to see you again.” Milan held out his fist and Cindella bumped knuckles with him. Without waiting to greet anyone else, Milan then slid open a side door. “Here you go.”
While the humans found seats in the bus, Ghost joined Milan in the front of the vehicle.
“All set?” With a quick glance back, Milan shot off, rushing down the street as though he was in a race. “By the way, thanks, everyone, for doing this.”
“You’re welcome,” Erik replied for them all.
For the next hour they swept through the streets of the vast metropolis that was Saga. There was very little chat, which was a disappointment to Ghost in that she had hoped to gain some more insight into B.E.’s comment that Gunnar was not here to help. The journey did, however, give her time to get used to the new avatars and run over their names several times until she had fixed them in her mind. Inny was the female soldier with long golden hair; B.E. was the man in the dark suit; Erik’s dad, Harald, had military-style, closely shaved hair; while Anonemuss had the appearance of a dumpy, middle-aged office worker. The most striking of them all, though, was Gunnar, who despite having a cracked and aged voice, looked like a teenage model, with his sparkling blue eyes, gleaming teeth, and youthful body.
Gliding to a halt before a warehouse, Milan pressed a remote control and a large metal shutter rose to let them enter. This part of town was more or less abandoned, and from the front, the warehouse had looked rather derelict; even the painted name of the former business—RYAN’S TEXTILES—had faded to the point that it could barely be made out. But inside, the building was ablaze with light and activity. It was sectioned into corridors created by the meter-high screens that separated off twenty or so workstations from each other. These open corridors focused on three hubs where clusters of people were gathered, talking and looking at monitors. Ghost imagined that viewing all the motion from above would be like looking down into an ants’ nest. With the human avatars trailing her, she led them to the nearest of the three large groups.
At their arrival, a young woman
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