Play of Shadows

3.06: Mirror's Edge

“Gah!”

Ann stumbled back from the door, arms outstretched to keep her two little shadows from advancing. The dark figure standing in the doorway crossed its arms. It was a shadow-man, Ann realized. Knowing that the shadows were fragments of A’s avatar, she could well imagine an unimpressed sneer on its face.

“What?” Ann demanded, hands on her hips. She tended toward combativeness when startled.

The shadow-man studied them for an unnerving second. [This room is off-limits to players] echoed in Ann’s mind, the words flat and lacking even the thinnest veneer of human emotion. 

The little boy that might or might not go by Nick Barton peered around Ann. “Sorry,” he said.

“We forgot,” his sister added, eyes large and innocent in her cherubic face.

The shadow-man was not moved. Thankfully, he was also not interested in pursuing the issue of the room any further, although he did seem to say something to the children that had them hanging their heads. Ann tried to imagine a disappointed-parent lecture from an NPC program masquerading as Alexander and stifled a snort.

“Pick up your gear at the front desk and move out,” the shadow-man said.

“You mean,” Ann pointed to herself, brows raised.

The shadow-man had no eyes. Ann felt the eye-roll anyway.

The kids took the opportunity to grab Ann’s hands and tug her forward. “We’ll take her!” the little girl exclaimed, as if Ann needed a chaperone to find her way downstairs.

The shadow-man stepped aside to let them pass. Ann kept an eye on the man, somewhat leery of having the strange NPC at their back. The avatar was not actually Alexander after all, and there was no telling how deep the corruption had gone – or how far VELES’ reach extended, beyond whatever safekeeping measures K had put in place.

K’s involvement in VELES stayed on Ann’s mind as they took the elevator down. It was a tight fit; the two children had to pretty much stand on her feet. Thankfully, the shadow-man did not follow them inside. He flit over the wall instead, disappearing down the hall toward A’s office before the doors of the elevator had even closed.

“Mr. A wants to leave, but he can’t,” the little girl whispered as they descended. She was twisting this way and that, making faces at the mirror.

Small heels dug into Ann’s foot. “He seems to be getting around alright,” Ann said through a wince.

“The shadows are a cheat,” the little girl told her.

“Mr. K doesn’t know about them,” the little boy added.

Ann’s brows rose behind the mask. “A’s avatar is meant to be stationary?”

The children nodded.

“Mr. A doesn’t play host very often,” the little girl said. “He can bend the rules a little, when he is himself.”

Ann took that to mean that Alexander wasn’t a frequent visitor. Given what she had learned of the man’s VR tolerance – or lack thereof – Ann was not too surprised. She would certainly not be eager to jump in a pod, were she in Alexander’s shoes.

“When he is a program, and not a player,” Ann said. The little girl nodded in agreement. “What does it mean, to bend the rules?” Ann asked.

“You know – cheat a little. Mr. A split his data, just like Mr. K did. Since Mr. A doesn’t have permission to create new avatars, he animated his shadow instead,” the little girl said.