***
Day Four
By now, teleporting across the planet after work was becoming almost normal. Drive home, go inside, feed the cat, shift into Tam for less mass, then fire up
the teleporter. Next thing I know, I'm in America and wandering up to Ben's attic loft.
"Heya OM," I declare as I come in, pausing as always to take in the technological wonder that she'd put together around her original computer.
"... Is that thing even bigger?" I wondered.
"Yeah, Amy and I rewired some circuit boards, tweaked a few other systems, and, well..." she gave me an evil grin and pointed towards the corner of
her room. I followed her finger, and found myself looking at a suit of half dismantled pink and red powered armor.
"Where the heck did THAT come from?" I squeaked, rather surprised.
In response, Ben's evil grin only widened. "Oh, it turns out I had my 'costumes' stored in here," she said, brushing her hair back to
reveal a small red gem in her ear.
"A subspace crystal?" I laughed. "Oh, that's fantastic. And you stripped one for parts?"
"Just the one," Ben agreed. "I'm keeping the others around for when we need to do hero work, but lets face it, Sylia made these with
computer technology way more advanced then anything on this Earth."
"Except maybe the latest Creys," I pointed out, then made a face. "Bleh."
"Mental collision?" she chuckled. I nodded. "Wonder if that's ever gonna stop," she mused. "Anyway, I'm assuming you've
sorted out your final look there?" She said, looking me over.
After deciding to create identities for both forms, mostly out of an odd reluctance to give up the form that had no real place in this universe, Ben had
pointed out that it'd be a good idea to add a few years to Tamara if I wanted to avoid Truancy officers. So, I'd spent some time in front of a mirror,
adding a few inches of height, tweaking my face and proportions slightly... essentially making myself look more like I was in my early twenties. I'd still
be carded a lot, but I didn't want to find out the hard way that yes, I did still have to age properly in both bodies. (And before anyone asks, yes, I did
add a little to my bust. Not too much, just an inch or so. What? A girl likes a little confidence, especially around a Sexaroid and Rhea, who may not be huge,
but had a certain style to her.)
Ben smiled, handing me two envelopes. "Everything you need for Chris and Tamara Wood, both immigrants from Australia, Chris with a work Visa, Tam with a
green card."
Opening one of the envelopes, I looked over the drivers license and grinned. "You are an artist, you know that?"
She leaned back on her chair, hands behind her head. "I have my moments. And before you ask, they're fully real, and totally legal." The smile
turned playful. "As far as the governments computers are convinced, at least," she added. "We'll need to be careful though. I saw some
mentions of them implementing 'Paragon' computer security."
That got my attention. "You think they've already got some experts on staff?" I wondered.
"Seems likely. I mean, for some of the mad scientists back home, the local computer industry would be a gold mine waiting to happen. Heck, I'm tempted
to go and get a job at Google." As I snickered, she added, "I could make their new OS a thing of beauty."
"Very true," I grinned, putting my signatures on the back of both credit cards. "Any word on the NCSoft front?" I wondered.
Ben frowned. "Well, I did get in earlier and renamed... um... us," she said, frowning slightly. "I keep everything else there for now to avoid
setting off alarms and such, but... There was a message there. From Positron."
It took a moment for that to sink in. "Wait, not Matt Miller? Positron?"
The red head nodded. "Yep. An open message to any 'Refugees from Virtue.' It said, and I quote, 'I've got things under control here.
Don't break this stuff, I like my job, but I won't let them get at it.'"
As I put my id away in my purse, I had to laugh. "He's probably ready to nuke the servers if anyone tries anything. Impressive." Ben nodded in
agreement. "So... Dynasty Warriors Gundam?"
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, as we headed back downstairs.
***
The body had been sprawled out on the floor since the moment a game and reality had collided. Breathing had stopped almost immediately, even before the Change
could work its magic on it. It was a simple, tragic side effect of the players character, a blueside character that had supposedly been a fragment of the
Clockwork Kings tormented mind. The spark that gave it life was universes away, forgotten as the bodies true host was seemingly snuffed out.
But by the third day, it had become clear that the change was still at work. Skin began to stretch and warp, rippling as though there was something moving
underneath it. The sound of grinding gears could be heard as blood began to escape from the poor mans mouth, nose and eyes. Bones cracked and splintered, flesh
was consumed and the body became increasingly disfigured.
On the fourth day, the skin tore away, revealing the deformed metal figure within. With a metalic screech of metal grinding against metal, and powered by the
last embers of a slaughtered soul, the Clockwork demon pulled itself out of its skin, grabbing at the computer desk for support. The computer, having gone into
standby mode days ago, began to rattle and shake, the power cord sparking as the machines interior began to warp...
***
Day Four
By now, teleporting across the planet after work was becoming almost normal. Drive home, go inside, feed the cat, shift into Tam for less mass, then fire up
the teleporter. Next thing I know, I'm in America and wandering up to Ben's attic loft.
"Heya OM," I declare as I come in, pausing as always to take in the technological wonder that she'd put together around her original computer.
"... Is that thing even bigger?" I wondered.
"Yeah, Amy and I rewired some circuit boards, tweaked a few other systems, and, well..." she gave me an evil grin and pointed towards the corner of
her room. I followed her finger, and found myself looking at a suit of half dismantled pink and red powered armor.
"Where the heck did THAT come from?" I squeaked, rather surprised.
In response, Ben's evil grin only widened. "Oh, it turns out I had my 'costumes' stored in here," she said, brushing her hair back to
reveal a small red gem in her ear.
"A subspace crystal?" I laughed. "Oh, that's fantastic. And you stripped one for parts?"
"Just the one," Ben agreed. "I'm keeping the others around for when we need to do hero work, but lets face it, Sylia made these with
computer technology way more advanced then anything on this Earth."
"Except maybe the latest Creys," I pointed out, then made a face. "Bleh."
"Mental collision?" she chuckled. I nodded. "Wonder if that's ever gonna stop," she mused. "Anyway, I'm assuming you've
sorted out your final look there?" She said, looking me over.
After deciding to create identities for both forms, mostly out of an odd reluctance to give up the form that had no real place in this universe, Ben had
pointed out that it'd be a good idea to add a few years to Tamara if I wanted to avoid Truancy officers. So, I'd spent some time in front of a mirror,
adding a few inches of height, tweaking my face and proportions slightly... essentially making myself look more like I was in my early twenties. I'd still
be carded a lot, but I didn't want to find out the hard way that yes, I did still have to age properly in both bodies. (And before anyone asks, yes, I did
add a little to my bust. Not too much, just an inch or so. What? A girl likes a little confidence, especially around a Sexaroid and Rhea, who may not be huge,
but had a certain style to her.)
Ben smiled, handing me two envelopes. "Everything you need for Chris and Tamara Wood, both immigrants from Australia, Chris with a work Visa, Tam with a
green card."
Opening one of the envelopes, I looked over the drivers license and grinned. "You are an artist, you know that?"
She leaned back on her chair, hands behind her head. "I have my moments. And before you ask, they're fully real, and totally legal." The smile
turned playful. "As far as the governments computers are convinced, at least," she added. "We'll need to be careful though. I saw some
mentions of them implementing 'Paragon' computer security."
That got my attention. "You think they've already got some experts on staff?" I wondered.
"Seems likely. I mean, for some of the mad scientists back home, the local computer industry would be a gold mine waiting to happen. Heck, I'm tempted
to go and get a job at Google." As I snickered, she added, "I could make their new OS a thing of beauty."
"Very true," I grinned, putting my signatures on the back of both credit cards. "Any word on the NCSoft front?" I wondered.
Ben frowned. "Well, I did get in earlier and renamed... um... us," she said, frowning slightly. "I keep everything else there for now to avoid
setting off alarms and such, but... There was a message there. From Positron."
It took a moment for that to sink in. "Wait, not Matt Miller? Positron?"
The red head nodded. "Yep. An open message to any 'Refugees from Virtue.' It said, and I quote, 'I've got things under control here.
Don't break this stuff, I like my job, but I won't let them get at it.'"
As I put my id away in my purse, I had to laugh. "He's probably ready to nuke the servers if anyone tries anything. Impressive." Ben nodded in
agreement. "So... Dynasty Warriors Gundam?"
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, as we headed back downstairs.
***
The body had been sprawled out on the floor since the moment a game and reality had collided. Breathing had stopped almost immediately, even before the Change
could work its magic on it. It was a simple, tragic side effect of the players character, a blueside character that had supposedly been a fragment of the
Clockwork Kings tormented mind. The spark that gave it life was universes away, forgotten as the bodies true host was seemingly snuffed out.
But by the third day, it had become clear that the change was still at work. Skin began to stretch and warp, rippling as though there was something moving
underneath it. The sound of grinding gears could be heard as blood began to escape from the poor mans mouth, nose and eyes. Bones cracked and splintered, flesh
was consumed and the body became increasingly disfigured.
On the fourth day, the skin tore away, revealing the deformed metal figure within. With a metalic screech of metal grinding against metal, and powered by the
last embers of a slaughtered soul, the Clockwork demon pulled itself out of its skin, grabbing at the computer desk for support. The computer, having gone into
standby mode days ago, began to rattle and shake, the power cord sparking as the machines interior began to warp...
***