Play Testers Wanted

Iram Unveiled:

Akira took over the controls and slowly eased us down the shallow angle towards the valley's center. Ten meters in, the car lurched as if it had lost power. My head impacted the windshield, and when I could see again, there was an entire town in front of us. The aircar righted itself as the power cells kicked in. Akira stopped the car and took out the first aid kit from under her seat. I touched my forehead and returned with blood where I had cut it. She made a face as she cleaned the wound and applied a liquid bandage.

"It does not look deep." She stated. "Not again."

"Again?" I asked, and she winked.

"Iram was protected by an energy dome that cloaked it from detection. It not only worked from ground level but from the air as well. Satellites just passed right over it. We had to leave our vehicles behind because the Iram shield knocked out all electronics." She recalled her time there.

"Surfer? Are you okay?" I asked, and she whispered back.

'I cannot feel them! The collective is gone!' She was near panicking.

"I am right here. Focus on me, and we will leave here as soon as possible." I urged her. "Great, now let's see what is going on here."

We were at the very edge of the town of Iram. Akira drove forward as we took in the settlement that time had forgotten. The architecture screamed a century old, but the structures appeared sound and well maintained.

"Well, this is the target of the tower's transmissions. I get it! The spire had to be modified to pierce the barrier without disrupting it."

"Makes sense to me. We will find out hopefully if your theory is correct or not. We better head for Main street." Akira suggested as the vehicle moved down Maple boulevard.

People began to come out, and they dressed in a mix of clothing that ranged in style from the previous century to modern t-shirts and jeans. I took in as many details as I could. The combination of cultures was interesting. There were people of European descent, quite a few from the native nation, and folks of color. Some were African American, others Latin perhaps even Spanish. My thoughts went straight to the conquistadors of old. Were their children here?

"How are you doing, Surfer?" I asked.

'Better. Your thoughts comfort me.' She said, her voice soft yet resilient.

We reached downtown Iram, and it was the most eclectic I had ever seen. No cars or trucks lined the street. I had seen no vehicles of any kind since we entered the town. The assortment of written languages was astounding. Some of them I recognized. Others defied Surfer and me. I shivered, thinking I was somehow still in the damn game. Then just when I thought things could not get any stranger, a young boy called out.

"Mom! Dad! It is Booker! Why is he in that strange car?" He hollered, and people began to gather around the aircar. Akira let it settle to the ground and switched it off.

"Your fans await." She said, thinking as I was that they followed me via the holo net. We got out, and I greeted the crowd.

"Hey everyone, glad to be here," I said, and the cascade of sheer shock passed through them.

"He can talk." One man exclaimed.

"How can he do that?" A woman asked.

"He looks different." A teen girl stated. "Look at his eyes. They are clear and focused."

"What in the hell is going on?" I growled as the boy that had first called my name pointed, and everyone looked beyond me and gasped. "No. This is not happening." I said, feeling my sanity cracking.

"Booker. Do not turn around. For the love of God, how is this possible?" Akira began to weep. I turned to face the nightmare. It was me, but it was not me either. When Left said Nick had cloned me, I hadn't believed him. I buried it deep and moved on with my life but now, here was irrefutable proof.

"Clone. It wasn't a bad dream; Nick fucking cloned me!" My voice cracked but picked up strength as it became a scream at the end. "God damn you, Nick!" I fell to the ground screaming at the thing in front of me. The blank look in its eyes made me feel like I had dodged a bullet. "Damn you!" I screamed, and the other Booker staggered back and collapsed unconscious.

"Was that the Voice?" Someone in the crowd asked.

"Can the other Booker use the Voice?"

"How can a human use the Voice?"

"Clearly," a female said. "He is far from a pure strain human. Nick's doing, no doubt."

"No doubt," came a deep male response. "We never should have taught Nick."

"Nick is dead," I growled without looking back.

"Is he? His life's work lives on in you." The woman coolly stated.

"Nick was too cautious for a little thing like death to slow him down." The man added, and the crowd murmured their agreement.

The other Booker was not getting up. I forced myself to crawl over and see if I had killed him. I thought back to the game and my mastery of Kiai Jitsu. Was it real? I had seen martial artists cry out before they struck a foe, board, or brick. Was this just a more profound manifestation of that? I reached the prone figure that bore my likeness, but it was not my face. There were subtle marks of abnormalities along with the blank stare. His chest was moving but only weak, shallow gasps. The wet rattle as he inhaled made me think I had damaged his lungs when I screamed. His hand gripped mine, and he spoke, perhaps for the first time in his miserable life.

"Don't weep for me. We will be together soon," he said. "Don't let go."

He squeezed my hand with surprising strength, and everyone looked up when the blast of thunder roared above the town. The air became charged, and the smell of rain filled my nostrils. I watched him struggle to breathe as his life slipped away.

"Finally," he said when the second resounding boom of thunder signaled his passing.

"I am sorry."

His fingers remained tight around my hand, and I wondered if I should pry them loose or wait. I gave him his last request and knelt next to him until the world lit up and the lightning fell from the heavens and struck a nearby tree. The clone's hand dropped to his side, and I wiped away the tears.

"It was a mercy," the man with the deep voice said, but I had no clear line of sight on him. "He hated his miserable existence."

"Indeed, brother, this was a blessing and an end to his suffering." The odd female added.

She must be the hooded figure in the back of the crowd. How can they be so casual about death? I looked back to the corpse on the ground. He did look at peace. Then my brain began to go to work looking at his features and seeing the similarities and more and more differences. I could not help myself. The small truth is that when you look at your reflection in the mirror, you see your features reversed. Now, I saw them as others perceived them.

"Please disperse, and let Booker and his companion see our little town." The hooded woman urged. "There will be time to speak with him. Answer his questions with love and kindness."

They returned to shops and their homes. The street was empty, and I could not recall seeing the hooded woman leave. She was simply not there when I looked back.

"I am Batman," I said under my breath.

"Don't let her hear you say that. She is Catwoman." Akira replied with a much-needed smile. Two men arrived with a stretcher, gently lifted the clone onto it, and carried him away. "They will take care of him. Let's look around and give you time to process."

"I didn't believe him."

Just as Nick had moved Akira's mind from one body to another, he had cloned me en masse, and now as far as I knew, I was the sole survivor. My emotions shut down to help me keep from screaming. Was another hidden body waiting for Numenor to pop my recorded consciousness into it? Were there other people that the Order cloned to maintain a kind of pseudo immortality? How far did the rabbit hole go? Akira clutched my arm, and that simple physical contact grounded me.

"Take your time, and shout if it helps. It did for me. You aren't alone."

Those three words, you aren't alone, saved me. My arm slipped around Akira's waist, and I let her guide me. We did a little window shopping, and many of the stores were what I would expect, except some had labels in languages and characters I had never seen before. Where were they getting these products? Were they being shipped in somehow? The more I saw, the more confused I became. The sound of hammering metal caught my attention, and I followed it to the outdoor smithy. I halted in my tracks, seeing the blacksmith. I could not help the thought of a Middle Earth dwarven weaponsmith. He was short, about five feet tall, wide-shouldered, and muscular, almost inhumanly.

"Damn!" Akira gasped.

"Was that for the longsword he is forging or his impeccable pecs?" I asked.

"Seriously?"

Unlike other smiths I had met or seen online, he did not use motorized devices to aid him in his craft. The leaf-shaped blade took form before our eyes. His whole attention was on each hammer blow, but I did catch him humming an unfamiliar tune. We took a seat on the ground, and I found myself humming the song and then vocalizing it as I absorbed it and built on its complexity. Akira watched him intently and chewed her lower lip. Was it the rivulets of sweat running down his back and muscular arms? Was it the rugged good looks and deep green eyes? It was all of it, I guessed.

"Hello, Sinister," the smith said as he cooled the blade and turned to face us.

"Hello Druin, long time no see." Left replied.

"Your host is a few steps up from the last one," Druin laughed.

"Left, the myth, the legend!" He joked. "You are looking good since the last time I saw you, old friend," Left said, addressing the smith.

"Go to the town square. You may find some answers there. Return around nightfall, and we can toss back a few and talk about old times." Druin suggested. "The girl is distracting, and I must focus on the sword."

"You hear that. I am distracting." Akira exclaimed proudly.

I laughed as we got to our feet and took Druin's suggestion. We headed for the center of the town. I felt the moisture on my skin long before hearing or seeing the fountain. Akira gasped in surprise and muttered.

"Now it all makes sense."

"Care to explain," I asked, and Left was equally vocal at this point.

"Drink. Use me and get some of the water and drink. You won't be disappointed." Left practically begged.

The fountain's base was round with ancient, weathered designs that I could not make out. The reservoir was about four feet in height. An equally worn obelisk at the fountain's center reminded me of Cleopatra's Needle sans the hieroglyphs. The water took the form of a ring of jets hidden by the pool's lip; streams shot upward to the top of the obelisk and trickled back down into the basin. I cupped both my hands and dipped them into the pool. I felt a tingle across my hands, and without warning, Left opened his mouth and drank to his fill. The rush of power hit my system and erased all the emotional and physical fatigue. I still remembered killing the other Booker, but now it felt like months had passed since it happened.

"Akira?"

I turned as she was shedding the last of her clothing, and she hopped into the fountain and bathed in it. She lay on her back, floated, and then released a soul-wrenching sigh of relief. She turned over after a few minutes and lay suspended face down.

"Is she supposed to do that?"

"Why not," Left snickered. "Go on. You know you want to do it." He was right. After tasting the water via Left, I wanted to feel it. I looked around, but no one was in the square but us. "Eh."

I stripped down and joined Akira. The sensation of bathing blew away that of drinking it. I swam through the water doing laps once I realized the pool had a far greater depth than it looked from the street. I dove down as far as I could and saw a glint of metal sticking out of the silt-covered bottom. Was this the answer Druin had meant? I plucked it out and found that the object was a metal bracer. It reminded me of a piece of armor from the Roman era that would protect or even deflect a blade thrust. I swam upwards and found Akira floating ten feet below the surface. Her long dark hair formed an inky cloud above and around her head. She smiled and kicked me in the stomach. I felt the air I had so preciously held in my lungs expel. I inhaled instinctively, but instead of the burning sensation of water flooding my lungs, I could breathe in the fluid. I flipped her off and showed her the bracer I had found. Akira gestured that I should put it on.

'Put it on me,' Left urged silently.

What the hell. I turned it sideways and worked it onto my forearm. The metal or alloy was rigid yet flexible enough for it to fit. I held up my arm and watched in shock as the thing produced glowing red-hot metal and closed the gap along the inner side of my arm. As the metal wove and knit together, those alien characters I had seen on the sign floated and swam beneath the artifact's surface. Had Druin forged this, or did he place it here to be found? Was this a test? I dismissed the questions as Left spoke.

'That was a surprise. After all this time, it still works.'

'What did I just put on my... on you?' I asked.

'A Duskwalker relic that has lain dormant for millennia. It is as much a part of you as I am.'

'Why did it seal itself like that?'

'It recognized the presence of a Duskwalker. It could have been me, but just as likely, it saw potential in you. Consider it a good luck charm.'

'Maybe now is a good time for a little backstory.'

'I agree, Duskwalkers, that is what the other races call us; by us, I mean you and me. The name we use is K'Ta'Viiri. It is a real mouthful, but it describes us well enough. It roughly translates to Lords of Essence, and we thrived when the Ghost lines were active and crackled with power.'

'Hold on, when she mentioned that the house sits on a three-line nexus, you never said a word. Why?'

'The time of the Ghost lines is long past,' Left said, his mental voice full of sorrow and ennui. 'Hey, tell you what, how about we find that girlie with the hood and shag her rotten. That would put a smile on my face.'

'Fine, but just this once, you understand.' I said with a grin.

The dream returned, and along with it, the dragon song. I mentally hummed it, and Left burst in to question me about the melody.

'Where did you hear that?'

'While you slept and healed, I have been hearing this tune. It took me a bit to figure it out and piece it together. When Akira heard it, she called it the dragon's song. It dates back to the time of the Ghost Lines,' I explained to Left.

'I know. Odd that I cannot hear its call. Am I still being punished?'

'Let nature run its course,' I urged.

Akira and I swam to the surface. The worst part was coughing up the water from my lungs. While it did not hurt, it was mightily uncomfortable. We climbed out of the fountain and sat to air dry before dressing again.

"The short version of events is this, Nick patronized an archaeological dig, and we found the original city of Iram. There was a temple with one of these stones in it. The obelisk shields the city from discovery. Nick also found some seriously advanced ancient tech. Let us throw down a few pints once we are dry."

"Agreed; where is the pub?" I asked, and my voice carried upward to a scantily clad woman standing on her balcony, and she called out.

"Oi, Booker, 2.0, the pub is that away." She said and pointed. "I will meet you there."

"Someone is getting laid." Akira chuckled.

"I suspect I am not the only one," I said, and her face lit up.

"Ooh, gods, I hope so." She purred as visions of Druin and her tumbling together filled her thoughts. Akira's hunger was so intense that her mind became an open book.

"Did Druin know about the bracer?" I asked Left.

"Likely, wherever he settles, secrets seem to collect around him."

"Does he know I am a Duskwalker?"

"Yeah, he does, but don't fret; he learned his craft at the feet of one. Druin is much older than he looks."

"How many of us are out there?"

"Good, you are beginning to accept your new heritage. As for the answer, I have no idea."

I ran my fingers across the surface of the vambrace and noted the elegant yet simplistic design and intriguing inlay. The runes had submerged once more beneath the alloy's surface. I flicked it, and the material let out a perfect C sharp. Hmm, what if I sang a matching note.

Akira and I sat cheek to cheek on the top of the stone ring, forming the fountain's basin. I saw the blend of architecture that crossed centuries and cultures, some of which I recognized and others I did not. I turned my head, and it struck me that something was fundamentally wrong. Eight buildings were facing the town square forming a quasi-circle. Eight streets radiated outward, and they created a spoke design. Yet, I would have sworn that the town was in a square grid when we arrived.

"Optical illusion?" I muttered, and Akira looked at me. "The town 'square' is round with the fountain at the center. When we drove up, it was a grid pattern."

Akira looked around and gasped as if seeing it for the first time. I watched as her eyes seemed to glaze over and her expression of alarm faded. I kept my observations to myself after that. I looked at the obelisk and pondered the level of its influence. Did it merely cloak the town from prying eyes, or did it affect the citizens and the village's perceptions? I remembered feeling the moisture in the air before reaching the center of the town. I closed my eyes and listened to the falling water behind me. The jets' ring created a mist that surrounded the fountain and sent it outward into the nearby area with the wind's help. A new sound reached my ears, and it was rhythmic and musical.

"There is music on the wind," I said and heard Akira laugh.

"I am dry enough. Let's go find that music." Akira urged needlessly, and Left remained silent and brooding.

We dressed, and after a few false starts, we found the correct street. The acoustics of the town center created a deceptive echo, but with some diligence on our part, we located the music store. The exterior was brick and mortar with the swinging sign above the open door. The soft creak of the chains holding the sign played counterpoint to the violin within. While the melody was pleasing to the ear, I did not recognize it. I opened the door and held it for Akira. I followed her into the store and was instantly struck by the alien instruments displayed openly and some under protective glass. There were plenty of mundane pieces though some had slight modifications or claimed to be made by craftsman long dead. A perfect example was the Stradivarius guitar. Centuries separated the two, and only a fool would accept the instrument as anything but a gag gift.

"They play very well, don't they," Akira commented. "What do you think?"

I listened for a bit and found myself enchanted by the song and how well they performed it. This person was genuinely gifted, and their mental and physical agility was world-class. They made subtle changes on the fly. Was the violinist making this song up as they went? If so, this person was a genius. The music abruptly ended.

"Damn," she cursed and stepped out. The girl was diminutive in stature but hardly in her curvaceousness. There I was going straight to checking out her tits and ass.

"You are staring," Akira reminded me. "Oh damn."

"Subtle," I laughed, and so did the girl. "Sorry for staring."

"Thanks for noticing me," she replied. "I'm Dawn, by the way."

"You are blind," I said, suddenly noticing how she looked in my direction but not at me directly. "Sorry for just blurting that out."

"No harm, no foul," Dawn said, smiling. "Though, your voice sounds faintly familiar."

"She's got your number Booker," Akira giggled.