Play of Shadows

Chapter 12.2: Contract

Ann slept like the dead.

It was less of a choice and more of a forced shutdown. Her mind was still half-stuck in Lona, the memory of the game singularly real yet impossible to grasp, like a fevered dream. Ann struggled to process the awful reality the man in the suit had revealed. Part of her still hoped it was all a giant misunderstanding, or one of those terrible experiments that played with people's emotions to see which way they'd jump under stress. She'd signed a whole bunch of paperwork before going under. Who knew what was in the fine print?

The VELES employee who led Ann to her room was very polite, in a manner of someone on her guard. She answered Ann's clumsy questions perfunctorily and repeatedly assured that more information would be forthcoming. Provided, of course, that Ann signed her contract.

"Fine, I get it," Ann said, cutting through another careful, winding response to a very direct question, "Just tell me – are they really d- gone?"

The VELES technician adjusted her glasses. "Yes," she said quietly.

It was the first direct response Ann had gotten from the woman. She immediately wished that she hadn't asked, the small bit of bravery she had mustered scattering like ash in the wind.

"There is nothing that can be done to save them?" she tried, unable to help herself.

The woman shook her head.

They parted on that bitter note. Ann sat on the bed and stared at the wall for a long while, thinking of everything and nothing at all. She did not remember lying down or closing her eyes. Her dreams were filled with stars that glittered like broken glass at the bottom of a river made of dark clouds.

She woke up naturally a handful of hours later. Her mind was tired, but her body had been lying down for an entire day and actively ached from lack of movement. Ann rose with a groan and began a simple warm-up exercise on auto-pilot. She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to let go of the soft haze of sleep. Waking up meant thinking, and thinking meant –

Ann sniffled. Her eyes opened a bit, glinting in the dark. She passed her arm over her face, but her tears fell too quickly. In the end, she bowed her head and let herself cry.

After, she sat on the bed again, a small lamp on the bedside table bathing the room in soft golden hues. It was a large suite, furnished simply but comfortably. Way better than her own studio apartment.

It was supposed to be a one-day gig. A simple assist task, with a pretty good payout and the added boon of experiencing a VELES game for the very first time.

The contract was scattered over the bed, the loose pages a crumpled mess where Ann had rolled over them in her sleep. Ann hunted down a few stray sheets from the floor and put the packet back together. She studied it line by line, all sixty-odd pages. The document was thorough, detailing the task and its risks along with what was likely a customized benefits package. Ann read through the itemized list several times, eyes stuck on the assurance of legal representation. The firm listed was one Ann couldn't hope to hire on her own even if she was still a top-billing gamer.

Her hands clenched, straining the paper. A rueful smile hooked her lips.

"Well played," she allowed.

Naturally, she hadn't missed how thorough the company had been in their investigation of her past. The matter with YOMI was not a secret, but it was also old news – half a decade, now. Ann had long disappeared from the public eye. She hadn't made any moves, legal or otherwise, for a good three years. There was no reason to suspect that she was still planning to pursue a defense, especially after her first go at it failed so publicly.