9 Interlude: Jori

Jori couldn't believe that Crewan, of all people, was semi-cheerfully committing trickery and fraud so competently.

The two words that were most unbelievable: 'cheerfully' and 'competently'. Because for years now Elias Crewan had been a sullen disaster.

Not that he'd had that many encounters with the guy – they were distant acquaintances at best. Granted he'd seen Crewan even less in the last half year, but Zee would have mentioned if something major happened with the people in his apartment building.

That great a swerve in personality didn't happen.

He supposed Crewan finally found a job he liked.

But the sudden minor lawbreaking, plus seeing the man in the slums that night…whatever job the guy found might be worrying. Which white-bread-raised corporate-university-bred person went to the slums at night if they didn't have troubling intentions?

After Crewan didn't deny that his business was not all that aboveboard, Jori could only offer a partnership so he could head off whatever meltdown occurred. For some reason or other, Zee liked Crewan. Jori didn't understand it, but hey it's not like his friendships didn't have a sketchy person or two in the mix.

After hearing the proposition, he thought it was a joke.

Crewan had professed little interest in virtual games before this, and even less with VR engineering. And now he'd blown a fortune on a truck-full of neuro-virtual headsets he wanted to 'tweak'?

What the hell, right?

It was going to crash and burn.

With look in the other's eyes…Jori shook his head. He had better things to do than waste his breath on someone who wouldn't listen.

With Zee signing on to one of the biggest space-businesses in the world, and Cenree nabbing a contract with RSI for some techhead stuff he wasn't interested in, this was the time to convince everyone to create a guild – before they got too busy.

There were at least ten people that he trusted would round out the member requirements, and Zee, Cenree, and Enzo had the levels needed. Jori could front some of the start-up needed. Getting a guild made this early would only help them as the game progressed.

*

But as the days went by, Jori couldn't keep his mind off whatever Crewan was doing in his Nana's basement. And Zee being the worrier he was didn't help.

Zee was frowning, cross-legged on the carpeted floor beside him with the largest bowl of popcorn on his lap. "Do you think he's in trouble?"

He was talking about the way Crewan had suddenly disappeared altogether from their apartment building.

Oh man, seriously? His Nana couldn't stop talking about how Crewan was a nice guy, polite and quiet. He thought she was joking when she said she was concerned about Crewan not sleeping enough.

How much time did he spend at Nana's house?

Jori leaned back to catch Cenree's eyes.

The other shrugged.

The two of them had the least to do with Eli Crewan – Enzo hated him, Marai and Zee knew his mother and felt they had some responsibility in his drama, and then Tal was Marai's boyfriend.

"You know he's always asked you for help whenever he had trouble." Tal poured more popcorn into the bowl, then balled the bag up and tossed it on the table they'd moved aside for planning night.

Cenree reached over Jori's shoulder to grab a handful of the still steaming popcorn, she started tossing them one by one into her mouth.

Marai tutted at her, even as she scoffed at her boyfriend's words. She poured the sauce and spices over the popcorn, making it into a sticky mess.

Zee obligingly shook the bowl to distribute the flavors. "No he hasn't. Not since Auntie died."

"He hasn't, but he angsts all over the place like he has sole right to despair until someone gets tired of it and investigates," Enzo grumped.

"There's something different this time." Marai got Zee to pour some of the popcorn into the empty saucebowl and then flopped on the couch beside Tal.

He didn't ask or angst this time, Jori thought.

Or rather, he asked Jori instead of Zee. Minimal angst in sight.

He'd even joked a few times.

Not something Jori had ever expected.

The Eli Crewan he knew was weak, unable to get up after encountering a loss, felt the world owed him reparation, did little to better himself; in all, not good friend material. But Zee and Marai had been fond of Crewan's mother, so Zee tolerated him lingering around the edges of their group like a creeping rot that sooner or later would fall away because it destroyed itself.

The conversation during the lunch after Zee had been hired by Hareon bleeding Interplanetary was surprising.

Jori expected Crewan to be furious and pained and jealous that Zee had been accepted by such a prestigious company.

Unusually, he'd been actually decent.

Then the conversation he started…since when did the person who disliked games suddenly know so much about a VRMMORPG that he could toss out a plausible theory about its future?

Normally, he'd say that it was just Crewan's normal half-bragging conversation, all sound and no substance. But no. There was something in Crewan's eyes that had changed.

After he tossed in the alien comment so innocently just to watch the table burn up in argument, for a moment, Jori almost liked the whiny bastard.

Not so whiny anymore, a small mental voice reminded him.

It wasn't until Crewan brought him a truckfull of VR headsets and an industrial printer that Jori realized something truly fundamental about the man was different.

Jori had been half-joking about his business proposition.

When it was surprisingly accepted and Crewan explained what he was going to do, the reason for the visit to the loanshark fell into place like a puzzle.

In that moment, Jori was half-certain that Elias Crewan had tipped over the edge of insanity.

The only thing he was sure of, was that the Eli he met last was not the same Eli he met that day.

And he didn't know why.

Didn't know how it would affect Zee and his friends.

What a headache.

"Will you pull him into the guild, then?" Enzo's huffy question pulled Jori back into the conversation. Ah, Zee told them he'd given Crewan a coupon for Redlands. "He doesn't have the money for even an old-model headgear."

Jori laughed at that, amused. He ignored Enzo's glare. Elias Crewan had inadvertently broken one of Enzo's precious high-tech model robots, and Enzo had never forgiven him.

Zee shook his head. "I'll ask him if he registers, that's all. The guild has entry provisions; he has to adhere to those like everyone else."

Enzo nodded, satisfied. "You'll be waiting long, I think. It's not as if he could afford it."

"Enzo," Marai sighed. "Not everyone has money. The only reason I'm playing is for the cash."

"But you earned your rig," Enzo argued. "That guy's not one to work hard, and stingy besides. If we invite him to the guild early, he'll expect us to subsidize his gear."

"He has a job already, actually," Jori interjected. Then mentally kicked himself, and hid his grimace in a can of soda.

Zee narrowed his eyes at him. "You know what he's doing?"

Jori shrugged, waving everything off with a laugh. Because it was hilarious. "No. And all this doesn't matter until he actually joins the game. Currently, we've just made the guild, so recruiting others is far off. We still have to become famous enough that people want to be recruited by us."

"We're already famous. Famous!" Cenree tossed her popcorn into the air, making them all yell in protest as the kernels fell like snow.

She cackled, then flung herself over the back of the couch and ran into the kitchen, Enzo and Marai in pursuit.

If Cenree didn't prefer plain popcorn, Jori would skin her alive. He was pretty sure a few of the others would help him.

"More famous than a few world announcements," Zee took over, as if there hadn't been an interruption.

Jori and Tal made a small game of flicking off the popcorn kernels snagged in his curly hair.

Still talking, Zee dipped his hand in his bowl and flung a few saucy and sticky kernels at them. They stopped. "We need a name that endures, that stands for something. We've already made a start, a foundation. Now we need to build that foundation to the clouds and higher."

Marai smiled at them. "Shall we plan then? We need a place to build the clanhall first of all."

"Too bad it's not allowed in the Trade Cities," Tal brought up a map of Redlands.

"A major city then?" Jori leaned forward to look at the map.

Zee shook his head. "Not a city. A town or village is better. It's faster to gain Reputation. Somewhere near enough dungeons and easily defensible."

"Somewhere that's not the desert," Marai added, flopping against Tal's side.

Tal smirked at her. "You don't like my native land?"

His girlfriend rolled her eyes at him. "You were born in Iceland."

"On the ship returning from Iceland," he corrected.

"Yes, yes, you're a citizen of international waters."

They started bickering.

Jori looked at Zee, ignoring them. "The north then?"

Zee nodded. "Maybe not on Icebreak Bay. Or Greenleaf, for that matter."

"Don't like water?"

"A navy might be helpful later, but there are too many people near the Trade Cities."

"On the Dawn Sea coast, there aren't a lot of good places." Jori tapped the coast on the other side of the continent from Greenleaf Bay.

The Trade Cities were ancient cities that had the only mass transport portals in the game. There were four of them in the game: three on the Marfall continent, one on Amvard continent.

They were the easiest and fastest way to get around the massive world of Redlands, which was why they were neutral merchant cities.

There were rumors of more, which Jori was tracking, but no sign of related quests yet.

"The Dawn Sea looks best," Zee said, then smiled, "somewhere with mountains or hills. Just the place for a proper fortress, right?"

It was also on the other side of the continent from Amvard and the Marfall Sea where most of the fighting was, giving them time to fortify.

But from that look on Zee's face, he had a plan that would get all of them in trouble. Again.

What fun.

The problematic Elias Crewan was delegated to the back of Jori's mind as he joined his friends in building a place to belong in the world of games, and making sure their esteemed clan leader wouldn't inadvertently fling them off the edge of an abyss and somehow conquer a kingdom while falling to their deaths.

Numerous players were also building guildclans at this time, as the leading edge of elite players in Redlands broke through the Lvl 50 milestone.

It was best to start building up influence and reputation now, to sway the better players to their guild later.

Jori glanced at Zee, his friend and the leader of their beginning clan. The man was a little stressed about his new job.

Hopefully, getting to cut loose and stab a few people would help.

Zee worried too much. If they got the guild working properly, it would be one more thing he wouldn't have to worry about.

With Zee at the helm and this pack of crazies around him, Jori was sure their group would be one of the most terrifying in Redlands.

Really, he couldn't wait.

Soon enough, they named the guild Tarakhan – piecing together a few things from the flavor text of various items, it had old in-game language words for 'wind' and 'soaring'.

Marai could be a nerd every now and then.

*

It took a week and a half in real-time and twice that in Redlands-time for the guild to gain a footing. They finally had some time to breathe and so their accepted raid-missions lessened. Finally establishing enough Rep in Vermane City, the king allowed them to build a clanhall in a mountain town not far away called Oruen.

Jori had some time to check on what Crewan was doing in his Nana's basement.

And found the bewildering sight of the man, who infuriated Enzo by not knowing the difference between a screwdriver and a hole-wrench, skillfully wielding an electronic solder over a disassembled neuro-virtual headset.

He'd thought Crewan would hire someone, not do it himself.

Jori had been betting on the guy pressing Zee into service, actually. Which is why he made sure to confirm plans with his friend ahead of time recently, so Zee would have the excuse to refuse.

This was just another thing Crewan didn't do according to script.

Another surprise.

On the tables behind Crewan were rows of GatesTech MarkVIIIs, some carefully wrapped, others lined up bare on display. On a smaller desk, one that Jori recalled was from the storage attic, were several computer displays connected to an NV-headset.

It pinged as Jori stepped closer.

A diagnostic?

He bent down to see what it was measuring, then recalled that it was similar to the display the technicians had when calibrating his gaming rig.

According to the display, the headset – which from the logo was a GT MarkVIIIP – was safe for use and all systems green. He glanced at the other displays, and his eyes widened.

They were performance ratings.

When Crewan said he could upgrade a MarkVIII to perform better than a Mark VIIIP, he hadn't been joking.

Jori straightened up again and turned to watch incredulously as Eli Crewan slowly put together one of the most complicated pieces of technology in the last century.

Cenree and Enzo could do it.

Zee could do it.

But Jori was used to those three doing things like this.

Crewan was an end-user, always had been. When did he become so tech-savvy?

He watched silently until Crewan looked up.

"Oh, you're here," Crewan said absently, attention mostly on the parts in his hands. "Nana said you were a bit busy."

"You could've messaged." Jori did his best to sound casual.

"You might be with Marai or Zee." Crewan waved his statement away. "Then they'd know where I was."

Jori thought back on how particularly vicious Marai was in the last few days. She was looking for Crewan? No, he wasn't getting between that. "You wanted to talk?"

Crewan frowned. "Yeah, I need cash."

Jori's brows jumped up. Was Crewan always that blunt? He narrowed his eyes on the man, but the other continued obliviously.

"The synthprinter cartridges I bought were the wrong types. So, dear business partner, do you think you could sell these before Friday?" Crewan pointed at the packaged headsets.

"It actually worked?" Jori still couldn't believe it, despite seeing the diagnostic on the MarkVIIIP earlier – a fake MarkVIIIP. "You did all this yourself?"

Crewan gave him a grin. "You didn't believe me?"

"Who in hell would?"

The bastard only laughed. "Yeah, that's fair."

That told him nothing, Jori griped silently.

"Crewan, how many did you upgrade?"

"Just fifteen, but like I said, I ran out of synthprinter cartridges. Also had to buy actual MarkVIIIP boxes and packaging." Crewan grimaced, then muttered to himself. "Apparently 100,000 ecru wasn't enough."

Jori put a hand to his head. He didn't think he was supposed to hear that.

Truly a headache.

Crewan turned to him, expression serious. "Can you move them? Selling them as refurbished shouldn't be a problem. But if anyone scans them, they'd still read as regular MarkVIIIs."

"I'll see what I can do." Jori's mind started churning.

He knew a few people in the headgear refurbishing business. They'd have to make their own diagnostics, but if this worked, changing the product data wouldn't be so difficult.

"Are you planning on buying more headsets?"

To his surprise, Crewan shook his head. "This isn't long-term. MarkVIIIP prices are falling slowly even now. The biggest profit for me is just this one time."

True enough. Something like this won't be a secret for long, that someone was selling tricked out MarkVIIIs.

Crewan had probably done all the legwork himself.

A couple more runs and people would start getting suspicious of him.

But his Nana taught her descendants to take advantage of something like this until they squeezed every last drop of profit dry.

It's true that the biggest profits should be over soon, but Crewan didn't have his uncle's network and people.

Jori made a decision. "If you can teach the method, I have an uncle who would pay you for the knowledge."

Crewan blinked. Then huffed a laugh, as if exasperated.

Really, was the guy laughing all the time now? After years of being a broody little shit?

It made Jori feel like the other learned that there was a massive joke on everyone and wasn't telling.

It was uncomfortable, really.

"Sure," Crewan said. "But keep my name out of whatever you're going to do. I don't want to know."

As if they were going to tell him anyway.

"I'll sell the fifteen you already made, and won't tell Uncle about it until you're done with your business."

"Thanks. I really need those cartridges for the last headsets." Crewan stretched, his focus returning to the parts on the table before him.

Jori studied the other, then bluntly stated. "You're different."

"Oh?" The single syllable was purely curious.

"No really, you even stand differently. Two weeks ago you were still the loser that Zee unaccountably befriended, so what happened since then?"

Crewan fell into a contemplation.

Jori waited impatiently.

Finally, Crewan sighed and answered. "Two weeks ago, I wished on a thousand falling stars."

What.

Right, two weeks ago, on the night that Zee slept over at his house because he had an interview at HI the next day and didn't want to be late because of traffic, there was a meteor shower.

It was hardly a thousand. A couple hundred at most.

Jori rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off the frustrated urge to strangle the moron. What did shooting stars have to do with anything?

"So hard that I fell sick," Crewan continued. "I guess my wish was granted. Weirdly."

"Are you actually serious about this?"

Crewan just smiled.

Jori could see no deception in his face, none of the depressed dullness of before. There was still broodiness, something haunted, but also a resolve that he had never seen before.

His brow furrowed.

Who would believe that nonsense about stars?

Something really had changed. Was it possible for a person to change so much in so little time?

Only trauma of some kind did something like this, right?

But Zee, that great worrier, considered Crewan a friend. Zee would know if something major had happened, and would rally the others to help. Except Zee didn't know anything.

The conclusion: something happened to Crewan out of Zee's sight, something large enough to cause a change in personality.

Should he tell Zee?

He shook his head. No, the idiot had enough worries. Jori definitely wasn't telling Zee about this.

That meant, unfortunately, he was the one who had to keep an eye on Crewan.

Truly, a massive headache.

"What are you going to do with the money?"

Crewan simply said, "I'm playing Redlands."

Jori felt some sympathy for Enzo, but he had to say it. If he didn't and Crewan joined, there'd be strife in the guild and that would be bad. "Zee is part of a guild."

To Jori's surprise, there was a flash of disquiet on Crewan's face.

"No. I don't think I'll join a guild."

What?

"Did you even research the game? Joining a guild at this point would be the fastest way to gain resources to level up, and only in the high levels would you profit. Did you believe some drekk about every player profiting if they play hard enough? Because people who believe that are morons who get locked into unbreakable contracts with shady game sweatshops."

Crewan had to know that the money from this illegal venture would all be spent on the gaming hardware.

Instead of getting angry, like expected, Crewan burst into laughter. Jori blinked at the hysterical tinge to the guffaws. He eyed the other, wondering. Whatever happened, it had definitely knocked something loose in that head.

"What the jibbersaks is happening to you, Crewan? Do you have a doctor I should call?"

"Worried about me? No, you just said…" The other giggled again, and it was really harshing Jori's patience. "I researched the game, it's fine."

"If you lose all your money and have to sell your gear, don't come crying to me."

"That's not happening." There was an odd glint in Crewan's eyes that was almost feral, a strange determination.

Jori only felt his headache grow. Somehow, he knew keeping an eye on this guy would be trouble.

avataravatar
Next chapter