Read Online Rainbows End by Vinge Vernor - Free Book Online Page B

raptor. His shirt was pulled out of his pants, and he was drenched in slime — real, smelly slime. The kind you paid money for.
The monster itself was one of the Hill’s largest mechanicals, tricked out as a member of Juan’s new species.
     
The three of them looked up into its jaws.
     
“Was that touchy-feely enough for you?” the creature said, its breath a hot breeze of rotting meat. For sure it was. Fred stepped backwards and almost slipped on the goo.
     
“The late Fred Radner just lost a cartload of points” — the monster waved its truck-sized snout at them — “and I’m still hungry. I suggest you move off the Hill with all dispatch.”
    They backed away, their gaze still caught on the monster’s teeth. The twins turned and ran. As usual, Juan was an instant behind them. Something like a big hand grabbed him. “You, I have further business with.” The words were a burred roar through clenched fangs. “Sit down. Let’s chat.”
    ¡Caray! I have the worst luck . Then he remembered that it had been Juan Orozco who had climbed a tree to perv the Hill entrance logic. Stupid Juan Orozco didn’t need bad luck; he was already the perfect chump. And now the twins were gone.
    But when the “jaws” set him down and he turned around, the monster was still there — not some Pyramid Hill rent-a-cop. Maybe this really was a Cret Ret player! He edged sideways, trying to get out from under the pendulous gaze. This was just a game. He could walk away from this four-story saurian. Of course, that would trash his credit with Cretaceous Returns , maybe drench him in smelly goo. And if Big Lizard took its play seriously, it might cause him trouble in other games. Okay . He sat down with his back to the nearest ginkgo. So he would be late another day; that couldn’t make his school situation any worse.
    The saurian settled back and slid the steaming corpse of Fred Radner’s raptor to one side. It brought its head close to the ground, to look at Juan straight on. The eyes and head and color were exactly Juan’s original design, and this player had the moves to make it truly impressive. He could see from its battle scars that it had fought in several Cretaceous hot spots. Juan forced a cheerful smile. “So, you like my design?”
    It flashed yard-long fangs. “I’ve been worse.” The creature shifted game parameters, bringing up critic-layer details. This was a heavy player, maybe even a game cracker! On the ground between them was a dead and dissected example of Juan’s creation. Big Lizard nudged it with a foreclaw. “But the skin texture is from a Fantasists Guild example library. The color scheme is a cliche. The plaid kilt would be cute if it weren’t in all the Epiphany Now ads.”
Juan drew his knees in toward his chin. This was the same crap he had to put up with at school. “I borrow from the best.”
    The saurian’s chuckle was a buzzing roar that made Juan’s skull vibrate. “That might work with your teachers. They have to eat whatever garbage you feed them — at least till you graduate and can be dumped on the street. This design is so-so. There have been some adoptions, mainly because it has good mechanics. But if we’re talking real quality, it just don’t measure up.” The creature flexed its custom battle scars.
    “I do other things.”
“Yes, and if you never deliver, you’ll fail with them, too.”
    That was a point that occupied a lot of Juan Orozco’s internal worry time. More and more it looked like he was going to end up like his pa — only Juan might never even get a job to be laid off from! “Try your best” was the motto of Fairmont High. But trying your best was only the beginning. Even if you tried your best, you could still be left behind.
    These were not things he’d confess to another gamer. He glared back at the slitted yellow eyes, and suddenly it occurred to him that — unlike teachers — this guy was not being paid to be nice. And it was wasting too much time