Bibliomancer Read online

  His eyes locked on the glossy pictures decorating the walls by his desk: the gleaming glass spires of Notre Dame, rebuilt into a modern masterpiece of art and beauty; the neon lights of Amsterdam glittering like the fireworks in a velvet night; the broad stoic face of Big Ben presiding over the River Thames like some stately monarch. He felt a surge of exhilaration. He’d traveled to Canada and Mexico a handful of times with his parents, but that was pretty much the extent of his worldly jet-setting. His parents might’ve been rich, but they were surprisingly frugal with things like that, and his dad was quite the homebody.

  But all of that was going to change. Assuming that everything was on track, he’d be spending his summer backpacking through Europe—a graduation gift from his parents. He absolutely couldn’t wait to leave all this behind, even if it was only for a little while.

  Chapter Two

  A sharp *knock-knock-knock* on the door pulled Sam from his hazy thoughts of far off places.

  “Yeah, come on in.” He pushed himself upright so that he was sitting on the edge of the mattress with his legs trailing over the edge, his shoes brushing the brown carpet.

  His dad poked his head in, a knowing grin on his weathered face. “You got a minute, champ?” He was grasping the door, and his fingers were drumming restlessly against the white-painted wood.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Just wanted to stop in and make sure you’re okay. I know this,” he waved toward the door as he pushed his way in, closing it softly behind him with a *click*, “isn’t really your whole thing. The party stuff, I mean. I also caught you talking to that brain-dead bunch in the backyard.”

  The older man grimaced and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, which was a perpetual holdover from his Marine Corps days. “They’re not bad kids, but I swear to all that is holy that there’s not a living brain cell between the whole lot of them. It’s not their fault; their parents have to own most of the responsibility for their current status as leeches, but good lord, I’ve never seen a more spoiled or entitled group of people in my life.”

  Sam shrugged helplessly, trying not to agree too readily. “They’re not all bad.”

  “No, definitely not,” his dad replied, shaking his head. “Wasn’t trying to say that. I just know you don’t really, you know, fit in very well with that bunch. You never really have. Frankly, there are few things in my life that I’m prouder of than the fact that you don’t fit in with those knuckleheads. Your mom and me, we always worried about that. We were afraid you’d just coast along, but you going to college? Knocking it right out of the park like that? Well, I think that’s one fear I won’t have to worry about anymore. You did good, kid.”

  Sam blushed and looked away. “Thanks. Still, it’s really gonna be good to get away and see some of the world. I mean Berkley was cool, sure, but a lot of it was the same—if that makes sense. Like the scenery changed, but it was the same people I’ve been around my entire life. The same kind of environment in a lot of ways, and I can’t wait to get out of here for a while.”

  His father glanced down, shuffling on nervous feet. “Yeah. About that. Your mother and I have been thinking. Talking a little…”

  The man faltered, clearly searching for the right words. “Look, the thing is, I know you had your heart set on Europe, but we’ve been thinking it might not be such a good idea.”

  Sam’s stomach lurched and dropped, worry rising up into the back of his throat. “Seriously?”

  His father finally looked up; lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s complicated. We had another idea, but it’s a little hard to explain. It would probably be easier if I just showed you, but to do that, we’ll need to take a ride. Don’t suppose you want to blow this popsicle stand early?”

  “If you stop speaking in clichés from the eighties, I mean…” Feeling a numb sort of detachment, Sam stood and followed his dad out of the house, not even bothering to say goodbye to the party guests.

  The drive over from the house was a tense, uneasy thing. Sam worked furiously to get his dad to divulge some details, any details about what was going on, where they were going, and especially why. Normally, his dad couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but suddenly, he was about as talkative as a brick wall and just as revealing. They lived in Orange County but on the outskirts of the city, a handful of miles from San Clemente. His dad wouldn’t let them know where they were going, but they were headed north toward Anaheim, crawling through the traffic on I-5.

  Sam couldn’t even begin to fathom what ominous thing might await them in Anaheim. He crawled through every memory, every conversation he’d had with his parents over the past few months and came up with absolutely nothing that made sense. Then—because he had nothing better to do since his dad was giving him the silent treatment—he thought back to the news. Had there been some sort of terror attack recently over in Europe? Something that might’ve convinced his parents not to send him on his backpacking expedition? Rumors of war? An outbreak of swine flu? There was tension overseas, but then there was always tension overseas. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything that fit.

  Eventually, he just settled back into the leather passenger seat of the Beamer, flicked on the tunes, and resigned himself for whatever was in store. After another twenty minutes, they pulled off the five, weaving through the wide city streets before turning into a nondescript office park with a manned guard shack and a formidable gate. Other than the presence of the guard—a beefy guy who looked like he ate nails and punks for breakfast—the complex beyond could’ve belonged in just about any city in America.

  The office building was four stories tall, boxy and white, with rows and rows of reflective windows. To Sam, it seemed like the kind of place someone might go to get their taxes done. What business could they possibly have in a place like this? He squinted as the guard at the shack pressed a button, opening the gate and waving them through with a thick-fingered hand. As the car lurched into motion, Sam could finally make out the signage on the building.

  In bold letters, tattooed across the white stucco was the name of the company: Elon’s Electronics, a Division of Space-Y. Sam, of course, had heard of Space-Y, which was a subsidiary company run by President Musk. He couldn’t even fathom the idea that there was anyone who hadn’t heard of Space-Y and its brilliant but eccentric founder, but… none of this was adding up inside his head.

  The more pieces of the puzzle he found, the more bizarre the picture became. The only thing his mind could come up with was that his parents had decided to launch him into space. Which was an insane conclusion, obviously, but every other scenario seemed equally absurd. He had to admit, getting launched into space sounded pretty fun.

  His dad pulled the Beamer into a wide space, marked off with fresh, white paint, that had a sign reading Reserved for VIP Customers. The next spot over was also occupied… by his mother’s car, a sleek Audi in slate gray—or at least it was a car exactly like his mother’s car, though Sam supposed it could possibly belong to someone else. He’d never bothered to learn the license plate number, and there were no other distinguishing marks, no bumper stickers or decals. But what were the odds?

  “Come on,” his dad said as he killed the engine. Now, the old man was clearly suppressing a smile. Something tremendously unorthodox was going on here, but Sam was starting to get the feeling that it wasn’t bad. Not necessarily. Sam got out of the car, the locks chirping softly as he closed the door, and headed up a short concrete walk, which ended at a set of mirrored-glass doors which showed his reflection but nothing beyond. His dad pulled open the door and gestured toward the yawning opening with one hand. “After you, kid.”

  Sam headed toward the uninviting entryway, apprehension mounting with every step. He wasn’t even remotely ready for when his mom popped out from behind a planter in the office lobby, yelling ‘surprise’ as she waved her hands frantically in the air. There were more balloons decorating the office interior, but thankfully, the place was devoid of the r
est of the party guests—all of them must’ve been abandoned back at the house, which was fine by Sam but still shocking given his mother’s normal attitude about guests.

  “Surprise, surprise, surprise, sweetie-pie!” his mom squealed, nearly dancing across the floor toward him in sheer excitement. “This time, it’s for real!”

  The entryway door swung shut with a *whoosh*, and his dad ambled up beside him, clapping a callused hand—a working man’s hand, despite the money—down on Sam’s shoulder. He wasn’t even trying to hide exactly how pleased with himself he was.

  “I almost lost it.” He beamed at Sam’s mom. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him there was a problem with the trip—poor kid looked like I planted a knife in his guts. I almost spilled the beans right there, but I’m glad I held out. Totally worth it. Look at his face! Still confused. So good.”

  Sam raised his hands, head spinning like a merry-go-round. “Okay. Will someone please tell me what in the heck is going on?”

  “We’re sending you to space! *Oof*.” His dad grunted as a pointy finger jabbed him in the ribs.

  “We are not. This is your real surprise,” his mom replied, folding her hands together. “I knew someone may have let the cat out of the bag about the first party, so I decided to throw two parties.”

  She shot a sideways glance at Sam’s dad, then waggled her eyebrows at Sam. “A false party to throw you off the scent, but this is the one I knew you’d actually like.”

  She stepped to one side and motioned toward a counter at the far side of the lobby. Behind the desk was a smiling receptionist of maybe thirty, wearing a neat, white suit, her red hair tied up in a tight bun at the back of her head. On the wall behind the service counter was a sleek chrome sign, the lines sharp and precise, which simply said: Eternium.

  The cogs inside Sam’s head slowly clanked to life, the mystery resolving itself slowly but surely. Eternium was the brand new, ultra-deep dive MMO that released… today. No way. No way! The whole internet had been buzzing with speculation. Speculation Sam had largely ignored since one, he was working through finals and two, rumor was the earliest version of the game cost an arm and a leg. He’d watched the video trailers, of course—he didn’t know anyone who hadn’t—but he never thought he’d have a chance to play. At least not in the first round of gamers.

  “Yep.” His dad’s grin somehow—almost impossibly—grew even wider. “Your mom and I, we knew you had your heart set on that trip, but then a buddy of mine mentioned that this game was coming out, and knowing you, well…”

  He shrugged. “Well, we thought maybe it would be better than backpacking around Europe. It just seemed so perfect. I mean, the game launches today, on the day you were due home. The slots were going so fast, so we had to make an executive decision. Didn’t even have time to talk to you about it.”

  The man sheepishly paused, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “We just pulled the trigger and went for it.”

  “And,” his mom broke in, “you’ll actually get an even longer break than you thought! Wendy, here—who is just lovely, by the way—was explaining to your father and me about something called Time Dilation. Sounds very complicated and fancy. I’m still not entirely sure how it’s supposed to work, but from the sound of things, a three-month trip inside Eternium will feel like six months to you.”

  She faltered for a beat, searching his face for any sign of a reaction. Sam was quiet. Still. She winced and wiggled uncertainly before finishing weakly, “I… we hope you don’t hate it.”

  Sam rushed her without a word, throwing his arms out and pulling her in against him. He’d grown a lot since leaving for college, putting on half a foot in height and nearly fifty pounds—most of it muscle—and his mother seemed smaller than she ever had before. A frail and fragile thing, but still, he hugged her tightly. “I love it, Mom.”

  It took a moment, but he finally ended up releasing her. Sam turned and almost tackled his dad. “This is the best gift ever! I think you guys might know me even better than I know myself.”

  It was true. Despite the fact that Sam’s dad had been a football star in high school, he’d never pushed for Sam do the sports thing, especially not when it became clear that he’d rather be gaming with his friends online. In middle school, both of his parents had even signed up for World of Alphastorm accounts so they could ‘game together as a family’—his mom’s words. They were both terrible. His dad just couldn’t seem to get a handle on the controls, and his mom spent most of her time running into corners, then accidentally blowing herself up with fireballs, but they’d tried.

  He could see the visible relief on his mom’s face as she sighed deeply. “Oh good. I’m so glad you like it, honey. I was a little worried that maybe you’d outgrown these games, but your father assured me this would be better than anything else we could give you.”

  “Welcome, Sam,” the woman behind the counter said, standing. She smiled, her teeth white and unnaturally even. “We are so pleased to have you with us, and as one of the first people to ever play Eternium—and in a DIVE pod, no less—you’re in for a world of fun. If you’re ready to go, we’re all set up and waiting for you. Your parents filled out most of the paperwork already, so we’ll just need to have you sign some forms and get a blood draw and a few vitals, but then your adventure awaits.”

  Chapter Three

  His parents may have filled out most of the paperwork, but getting to the whole adventure thing was quite a bit more involved than Wendy had initially let on. The nurse—or maybe administrator, Sam wasn’t sure what she actually was—had run him through a bevy of tests, most of them extremely uncomfortable and rather invasive. There were blood draws, MRIs, a short physiological examination, and a standard physical, which included a two-mile run with adhesive pads clinging to his chest monitoring every bleep of his heart.

  He had no idea what Eternium was going to be like, but if this was what it took just to get in, Sam had to imagine it was going to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Just… hopefully in a good way. This felt more like joining the military.

  Now, Sam found himself lying flat in a sleek, white capsule—the space a little claustrophobic—as a strange headset lowered down on to his head. It wasn’t a full helmet like some of the simpler VR headsets he’d seen around for years but rather a simple, woven band with a gem attached to the middle. The gem itself was about the size of a dime, gleamed like a diamond, and glowed with a faint, otherworldly light. The odd band settled on to his temples, the gem resting gently above the bridge of his nose.

  Honestly, Sam wasn’t sure what to expect next, but it wasn’t the thin line of text that appeared in the air above him. The message was simple and straightforward:

  Do you want power*? Yes / No

  Huh. That was an odd question. Not whether he wanted to continue but whether he wanted power. Sam thought about it, turning the question over and over in his mind. Did he want power? He’d never really dwelled on the idea before. He wanted to get good grades—but he’d done that. He wanted to have fun and to enjoy life. He was working on that right now. Someday, Sam wanted a girlfriend and maybe to start a family, though that seemed like a hazy event far, far, far off in the distance, but the idea of actually wanting power was a new concept for his young college mind. He noticed there was an asterisk, which connected to a hyperlink.

  Sam wanted to get into the game, no doubt about it, but after spending hours and hours in preparation, he wasn’t in a blind rush. So, curious, he mentally selected the option. The prompt vanished, replaced by a wall of text.

  Power is a weird thing. Some people are content to live the life mapped out for them, others not so much. Select no, and you’re still going into the deep end, but you’ll find the world of Eternium a kinder place. Run an inn, work your way up as a Tailor, maybe even unlock the path to Master Craftsmen! Choose power, and you have the chance to change the world through force. Wield the elements. Slay the monster. Even become the monster,
if you aren’t careful. But stay on your toes because power comes with a price. Prepare for major discomfort and maximum effort!

  After reading over the short description, Sam exited back to the initial prompt, which stared at him like a giant eye, unblinkingly waiting for him to make a decision. This decision sounded like it had some far-reaching implications for the next several months of his life. Although the idea of running an inn or being a Master Craftsman had a certain appeal, Sam knew he had his whole life to deal with the status quo, but how many chances would he get to wield the elements or shake the foundations of the world? Not many.

  Now, he decided, was the time to adventure. “Yes. I want power.”

  Good choice. Now, do you know what is about to happen? Have you read the terms and conditions*?

  Sam noticed there was another hyperlink next to terms and conditions and decided it would probably be a wise choice to at least give it a gander. Immediately, a block of script a mile long appeared in the air before him, packed with jargon and legalese so dense even someone with a legit law degree would have a tough time wading through the thick of things. Instead of really reading through the intimidating wall, he scanned over the headings, gaze bouncing along, looking for anything that sent up a red flag. Already, this was giving him a headache, but every pre-law class he’d ever taken insisted he read it to the end.

  So far, everything was pretty mundane. Besides, this was just a video game—even if it was a really advanced one. He glanced at the slider. He was only a quarter of the way done. Booo! What was the worst that could happen? He scrolled all the way to the bottom without really looking at the rest, then headed back to the question and selected ‘Yes’ once more. The words flashed a brilliant scarlet.

  Ah, so close, yet so far away. Okay. Prepare for pain. Also fun! Probably. Hopefully? We’ll see, I guess. Yes / Yes

  Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything. With an intro like that, maybe he should’ve finished reading those ToS after all…