Something new did emerge from the wreckage. A staircase to the fourth floor, right in the middle of the park. It’d been hidden before. Usually these things appeared on my map, even if we couldn’t get to them, like the one guarded by the Ball of Swine. This one had not been there before. I asked Mordecai about it, and he said many of the stairwells from now on would only become visible to us after we completed quests. This one had probably been there the whole time, right underneath Grimaldi.
I wondered if Signet had gone down the stairs. For her, she’d move directly to the sixth floor. Whatever story she had going on now would continue, undisturbed by us crawlers until we made it down there. If we made it down there.
“Why didn’t you just kill that boss?” Donut asked. “You still would’ve won the quest, and think of all the experience we would’ve gotten!”
“It was a trap. If I’d killed it, we’d both be dead right now.”
“Well, if I had been there, we would’ve done things differently.”
Carclass="underline" Also, I don’t want to add this part out loud. This is a good thing. We now have yet another group looking out for us. It’s in that production studio’s best interest to keep us alive. I doubt they can help us much, but the more advocates we have, the better.
Donut: Until we get to the sixth floor and they have written out some story designed to get us killed. Or worse, they realize more people are talking about you than they are about Signet, and they try to get us killed before we even get that deep. We are guest stars, Carl. It’s too dangerous for a show to have guest stars that are more interesting than the main character. That’s why they killed Barb on Stranger Things.
Carclass="underline" That… That does make sense. Except the Barb part. You’re better with this television stuff than I am. When we get there, we’ll need to think of every possible scenario.
Donut: GUESSING THE PLOTLINES OF TELEVISION SHOWS IS MY SUPER POWER.
The second she said that, I realized she hadn’t posted the earlier, longer chat message in all caps. I decided not to say anything about it. It gave the impression Donut was maturing. Slowly. Very slowly.
But there was more to it, something that had been bothering me for a while now. Donut made a lot of seemingly-rash decisions and comments, yet they were almost always good decisions, even though they oftentimes didn’t look like it at the time. And while I knew her intelligence being higher than mine didn’t really mean she was smarter than me, I’d been suspecting for a while now that so much of her camera-facing self was an act, designed to hide her true cunning nature from the world. The problem was now we were always camera-facing.
As outgoing, as brash as she was, she was still new to this world, new to having real, sapient thoughts. She was still coming into her own. The adult she would become was in there somewhere, just starting to emerge, but Odette was right about her. She was still a child, and she held many child-like attitudes and beliefs. It’d be a long time before she fully matured. But it was clear if she did manage to grow up, she’d develop into a fiercely intelligent person.
At the same time, she seemed to hold the belief that outward cleverness and quiet efficiency was something she needed to hide, or worse, suppress. Part of it was the nature of the beast. After all, we needed to be popular to survive, but I was starting to really worry about her development, and I had no idea how to talk to her about it without sounding like an ass.
I had a quick memory of Bea’s mom. It was just this past Thanksgiving, and we’d driven over to spend the weekend at her parent’s house. I’d been asleep on the couch, but I awakened to hear Bea and her mom whispering as they drank their vodka, the ice cubes clinking in the glasses. We’d brought Donut, and she’d been asleep on my neck on the couch. They had like ten other Persians around the house, and Donut was always freaked out by the other cats, so she always stuck by me or Bea when we visited. I’d woken up, and I had to pee, but Donut snored, and I hadn’t wanted to wake her. So I remained glued to the couch, eavesdropping on Bea and her mom.
Bea’s mom had said, “You have to make them think you’re dumber than you are. That’s the only way to catch a good man. You can’t control the ones who are smarter than you. And you don’t want the dumb ones to know they’re the dumb ones. Once a man realizes he’s stupider than his mate, he gets mean. You’re lucky to have found Carl. I just wish he was a doctor or a lawyer.”
That Bea’s mom thought I was a dumbass was nothing new, so this didn’t surprise me. I didn’t particularly care what she thought about me.
Bea had sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “He’s not complicated, that’s for sure. It doesn’t take much to make him happy. He says what he means. He won’t fight me, even if I try to fight. He’s not a doctor, but he makes good money, and he doesn’t spend it on anything. Plus I love him, mom. I know I screw it up a lot. But I do love him. I really do.”
That attitude, that we had to wear a mask, even toward our family, it was one I could never understand. A lot of people, men and women, thought like that, and I didn’t get it. And now I was afraid Donut had inherited that same attitude directly from Bea and her mom.
A few minutes later, Bea and her mom had a different conversation, one about Donut. It was something I was glad now that the cat hadn’t overheard.
I was reminded of something else I wanted to talk about. I sent a message to Zev asking if she was available to talk.
Zev: Hello you two. You sure know how to make a splash. I just heard back, and we have you both booked for a new show the day after tomorrow. It’s called Danger Zone with Ripper Wonton. It’s a round table. A real round table. There will be other Crawlers there and a few other intergalactic celebrities, maybe a politician. The show covers a few different hot topics of the day.
Donut: OHH, THAT SOUNDS DELICIOUS.
Zev: It has an audience participation segment, too. People will call in and ask questions. This is uncensored, so be ready for anything.
Carclass="underline" I can’t wait. Hey Zev. I have a question. The real reason I messaged is I was wondering if you could tell me who the production company behind Vengeance of the Daughter is? Is it a Kua-Tin company?
Zev: No. Nobody in our system is allowed to run serials while we run the game. These are done by private groups, just like with the talk shows. We’re not well known for our dramas, anyway. I’m afraid the nuances of compelling scripted drama are lost on the average Kua-Tin.
Carclass="underline" Okay, so who runs the one we just contracted with?
Zev: It’s an entity called Sensation Entertainment, Incorporated. They’re from one of the center systems, which tend to be more integrated. The gentleman I was dealing with was a Sac.
Carclass="underline" What the hell is a Sac?
Zev: It’s a race of people. They’re pretty common. Since you don’t know, I can’t tell you, I’m afraid. It’s not that important. Good luck today. I’ll keep in touch and will let you know when it’s time to go to your interview.
Donut: BYE ZEV!
We fought several, random mobs as we trekked. Most of them averaged around levels 9-11. Each of us practiced with our spells, casting over and over, trying to get them to level up. Mordecai explained that spells did eventually level-up when you just randomly cast them, but the system was smart enough to distinguish between practicing and actual, combat usage.