I continue to use Alaris’ workaround for my sleep problem and it’s becoming easier to let the weirdness slide while I sightsee and have frivolous conversations with nobility. It works well with video on demand watching our past matches in FoF and collecting data for improvement.

  Despite my desires, Callie hasn’t decided to cut me from the Sniper’s team, but she has taken over teaching Hamster, which I think neither of them like much. Jenna’s fit to be tied and blames me for all of the turmoil despite my outperforming a group of players that are ranked higher than me. Hamster has been improving by leaps and bounds, though—should make it to masters rank by the tournament.

  Only three days have passed in the ATC, and we’re about to leave Rivayne in Alaris, but this morning as I awake in London, I remember names, places, and account numbers I have no right knowing. A smattering of strobing colors in the corner of my vision disabuses me of the notion of investigating that particular oddity.

  It’s odder that I wake in the cobbled consciousness state, but I’m learning that once I get back to full cognition, it makes sense—most of the time. After a morning of auto-chess practice and moving money around, I get a never-before-seen video call from Ophelia.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure, Ophelia?”

  “Selena, you look like you’re up and about. I just got a dozen alerts on your Orion bank account and wanted to make sure it was you doing it.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s fine if I keep getting paid there, but as I got fired last week, and I don’t know how long corporate is going to tolerate my brand of chaos, I figured I’d move money and invest in terrestrial real estate as well as ATC property. A million and change doesn’t last forever.”

  Ophelia shakes her hand at the camera. “Not really my concern. As long as this was your doing, my diligence is done. Plus, if you have to keep working for me due to your poor decisions, all the better.”

  “Your concern is heartwarming. Is there anything else I can help you with?” I stifle my urge to hang up on the woman.

  “Run with your girlfriend less. We need more ath-leisure photos for Omega-Lime.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  She took her kid gloves off. Maybe it’s the legal stuff, or the subsequent harassment case that they might still be dealing with. As much as I like to think of her as just a department director—easier to see her as a person that way—she’s an executive and they all orchestrate the London office together.

  Maybe, for once, I should let people handle their own selves instead of trying to solve everything that bothers me with as much persistence as possible. My dealings with the Guild in Marcrest and barely contained trash fire with Duke Rivayne are good examples of that.

  \Morning Sellie.\

  /Morning Cutie. How can I help?/

  \I know you’re usually tired after practice, but can we talk about stuff tonight?\

  /If this is a break-up convo, you’re coming to mine so I can collapse and cry on the floor./ It wasn’t ‘we need to talk’ but it’s pretty close and the instant anxiety kicks me right out of mind maintenance mode.

  I get a vid call request immediately.

  “I’m sorry Sellie, that was not what I was asking.”

  “Whoo. Yeah, I might have panicked a little. Yeah, I can keep my thinking cap on after practice. Sorry you had to call.”

  “Okay, good. Not supposed to be on the phone, but I’ll see you tonight.”

  I won’t be worrying about that for ten hours, but my heart is still thumping like a base drum. Time to analyze my actions that would have kicked me out of maintenance mode before.

  Lucy clearly has some personal news, hopefully she got the promotion. Would she make her full move to influencer then? Ooh, maybe we can do some announcements together. I have some important ones to get out soon.

  I message Jessie about what would happen if I announced on socials that I was dating a fitness influencer and let that hang in the breeze while I think on other things.

  Seven figures of English Pounds buy a reasonable amount of land in impoverished countries. Kazakhstan, Namibia, and northern Russia. Pair that with taking out a loan for a decrepit convention center in Saskatchewan, Canada, and I have some serious questions about what Alaris and I are getting up to. I don’t want to start making searches or indicating that I don’t know what I’m doing, so I decide to leave that topic for our gray room asides.

  What do I know about the areas that I bought land in? Mountains, tall ones. Deep crust materials get shoved up when tall mountains form, and since much of the gem and ore deposits come from such crust thrusting, Alaris must have an advanced copy of some survey data that will take years for normal humans and computers to analyze. There is definitely more to it than rare earth or gem deposits, but I haven’t been keeping up with science and technology news since I joined the ATC. This is going to nag at me until it resolves. Something to ask Alaris about when we meet in the holding space again.

  There is a bunch of info and gossip to crunch through when I log over, but if I try to do too many cross-realm analytics, the headache I get is crippling. Though the warm fuzzies translate just fine when I think of how unbidden Vitara’s love and welcome were and how completely consuming the need to belong and make her proud of me is.

  Instead of engaging in idle worry, I decide to head to the game lab early and see if I can’t force Hamster into a lunch break. He’s already in the lab—of course—and nods at me when I walk in.

  “I’m having a burger and chips for lunch, you should join me as I doubt you’ve eaten a meal today.” He doesn’t respond.

  Marveling yet again at the quality of replicating these flavors on an avocado bacon burger, I moan into the sandwich as a bit of grease drips down the corner of my mouth.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “We do not have to eat, you know.” Hamster says, sitting down and picking up a chip from his basket.

  “I do actually. Since I’m a digital world resident, my behavior here influences my pod, or so I’m told. I also have no doubt that you have been warned that forming or losing habits here can persist in the Real.” He nods, eyeing the burger before taking the top bun off before summoning utensils.

  The act of him summoning here, in the ATC upsets my stomach and causes a pinching between my eyes. Odd that I can do that very thing in Alaris and have no problem there. At least I didn’t vomit this time. Maybe my dissonance is actually reducing again? I check my integration percentage and it’s a whopping 67%, which is a stunning increase of 9% since I joined Alaris. Holy shit: I instinctively need my blue troll butt as a part of my reality. What did Giuseppe say when he first saw me? I am tusky and fabulous?

  My dissonance improvement makes me feel pretty fabulous.

  I am, brought out of my self-love trance as Hamster dumps an unholy amount of catsup on his now bun-less burger.

  “Should I have ordered you meatloaf?”

  “No. I like the insides of a sandwich, just not the bread.”

  “Lettuce wraps exist, Hermano, I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

  “Why?” he asks, carving a bite off and eating the lettuce, tomato, bacon, and avocado with it.

  “Huh? Why what?”

  “Why focus on this part? Are you attempting to be friends with me? Why is that important?”

  “Ouch, Hamster. I kind of thought we are friends? Or at least as far as you friend? I see you more often than I see my girlfriend, and yeah, it’s for work, but it’s hard for me to spend this much time physically around someone without wanting to interact with them more and learn more about them. That’s how friends happen, at least for me. I respect you as a gamer, and believe it or not, I’ve come to like you as a person.”

  “You let me bully you into a Sniper’s team because of this, no?”

  Ach! He caught me. “Yeah. You wanted my help with something. I’m flattered, honored, and I want to do a nice thing for you. I like it a lot less with Callie and Jenna involved, but that’s because I can’t tell exactly what they want from me and it feels conflicting.”

  “Doing things you don’t want to do is fine, but doing things that cause you persistent frustration and anger—even for a friend--is stupid. I have told Jenna this.”

  “Would you coach me at Auto Chess if I asked?”

  “No.”

  Daamn, I guess he doesn’t see us as friends after all.

  “I do not like assuming that role, nor did I like when you were acting on that role for me with Snipers Folly. Nudging during gameplay, tips between players. I like that much better.”

  That’s way less bad than I feared.

  “Sorry I dragged you into the sappy stuff.”

  “Emotions are occasionally necessary for peak performance. It is known.”

  This fucking guy. My laugh is loud and genuine, and I have a good feeling about gaming today.

  ***

  Riding the high of some fun scrims in Fathoms of Fates, I step off the DLR with a bounce in my step on my way to see Lucy at her apartment.

  She opens the door and moves in for a hug, but I detour into some playful kisses and then hug her while she’s distracted.

  “Someone’s in a good mood.”

  “I had a good conversation with Darth Hamster, and we gamed like the champions we are today. And I get to end my day in the arms of a beautiful woman. What’s not to be happy about.”

  She rolls her eyes at my blatant flattery, but I see that hint of a smile, blondie. You’re not fooling me. No ma’am.

  “Do you want to shower or change or something before we settle in?”

  “Yeah, do you mind? And can I borrow one of your sleeping shirts? I love how long they are.”

  “Sure, want something to drink when you get out?”

  “Yeah. Whatever you have is fine. Thanks babe!” I jump in the familiar shower after folding my clothes and get a quick clean in. The shower is just as much to help my mind change to a clean topic as much as it is to get gaming and snacking off my skin.

  I saunter into Lucy’s room naked, hoping that Lucy’s peaking, but she probably isn’t. Finding the right drawer in her dresser, my favorite of her sleep shirts is now mine to claim, chuckling that it goes down to my knees.

  I enjoy the way I can see her motion and thoughts pause when I walk out in her clothes. I smile as I kiss her, sitting as close to her as I can in preparation for snuggles. When she hands me an IPA even though I see her glass of white wine, I kiss her again.

  “Honey, you keep my beer in your fridge?”

  “You’ve been coming over a lot, and I can see the face you make when you drink wine.” She pokes me in the side before pulling me to lean on her.

  I wait for her to broach the ‘conversation’ she wants to have, enjoying being held as I trace little circles on her calf. When she puts her wine down to wrap both arms around me, she starts.

  “First, I got the job as the HR slash personality manager for the gaming division.”

  “Congratulations!” I lean back and kiss the bottom of her chin and beam up at her. “First step to your climb to executive.”

  “I don’t know about all that, but it is loosely related to the next bit of news.” She pauses, extra long.

  “No way this is a lead in that you can’t date someone your managing.”

  “I was concerned, but I also filed the paperwork when I applied for the position, so it ended up not being an issue. No, it has to do with managing staff and talent in the real as well.”

  I spin around and set my beer on the table to stare into her face, searching for answers. “You can go back?! When? How? I’m so excited for you!” I flop on top of her and hug the living daylights out of her. This is such a huge development for her, and anyone who is in the long-term dissonance group.

  “With private therapy and my body responding to some new treatments, my integration rating has been steadily rising. I’ve been afraid to tell you, because you say you’re still untreatable, and I didn’t want you to feel I was rubbing it in.”

  “Lucy, I would never begrudge any of you for getting the support that you want and need. I am personally the happiest I can remember being, and I’m fine with the idea that I will never see the Real again. Are the doctors concerned about backlash?”

  Backlash is the reason I can’t leave. They told me I would get between 40% and 80% of my dissonance back if I transferred back to my body. Forty percent of ninety is enough to put me at more than a fifty percent chance that I’ll reject my real body—at a minimum.

  “They are, but with my current integration approaching ninety, they say that with a backlash of between 10 and 30%, I shouldn’t require more than six months of acclimation if my treatment continues to show results. After two years, I’m super hopeful. I’m not thrilled about the debt I’m in, but with the new job and the performance bonuses I can get, it seems manageable.”

  “Well, since you’re not kicking me to the curb, let me know if you need help with that, okay? And hasn’t Orion subsidized your bills?”

  “No way I let you help with money. We’ve only been dating for two months, silly Sellie. They have, but they’re only covering pod and life maintenance costs, not the treatments.”

  “Oof, sorry hon. I’m serious though, if the debt starts damaging your mental too much, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

  She pulls me into a kiss and it continues until I feel her tears wet my cheeks. “You okay?”

  She chuckles, “Yeah. Happy, relieved. It’s silly. I find out I am likely to go back to the Real, but I start crying when my lovely girlfriend is both understanding and generous. I’m scared that this breaks down if I leave.”

  “Hey, not if. When. Don’t you dare consider not going back, doing something that’s important to you, just because of me.”

  “But you’re important to me.”

  “You’re a sap, but I’m serious Sellie right now. You’re going to do this, then find out if you can come back like regular people, or you have to suffer a cooldown period to keep yourself together. We can talk more about long-term us afterward, yeah?”

  She laughs, pulls our foreheads together and starts crying gain.

  “Selena, you make it so easy to love you.”