Play Testers Wanted Pt. 21

"The game got hacked," I said, and she nodded. "I kind of figured you and yours would be monitoring me. Anything you know that you can share?"

"Not much. Kat buttoned up the AI traffic early on. The moment Kyanna put the sphere into the navicomputer, the hack began. They timed it perfectly." She paused to finish the contents of her glass and refilled it. "Whoever it is, they used an unlicensed satellite to perform the attack."

"Hold on, an unlicensed satellite? How is that even possible?" I asked, confused, and seeing her smile filled me with a mild dread for what she was about to say.

"Did you read the briefing I sent you regarding the Janus Gate?" She asked.

I shook my head. Surfer brought up the file. I dropped into the digital ether and read the file four times because it was so ludicrous, but clearly, it was real. I blinked and nodded for her to continue.

"Nick opened Janus twenty years ago to settle a dispute between the Order and the Osirian Council. Since then, unknown subatomic particles have flooded the Earth and this universe. Nick never revealed the real reason for opening the damned thing. Nick grew up bathed in the non-ionizing radiation the gate gave off. They had it cracked open back then. Shaw Senior moved the gate to your mom's house when you were a child, hoping it would awaken any latent abilities."

"I am sure there was no gate in the house I grew up in." I retorted. "I think I would know."

"Your mom's full-length mirror, the one with the gold trim and the naughty cherub on top." She replied, grinning. "The one she masturbated to on a fairly regular basis."

"Oh... that one," I said, remembering mom howling as she climaxed. "I stand corrected. Do continue."

"I suspect since the doctors at Numenor don't have that information, they don't know why the nanites went ape shit and did what they did. I suspect all that stored energy in your cells powered the transformation. You were a ticking time bomb."

"Time for you two to meet officially," I said and lifted my left hand, palm out. "Say hello."

"Hello, lovely lady," Left said, revealing his face to Akira.

"Hidari Yami No Te..." she gasped in awe reverting to her native Japanese. "I had read about you in a briefing, but to see you with my own eyes."

"Left Hand of Darkness?" I stated, and Left chuckled. "You chastised him earlier."

"I told you I had many names over the years." Left reminded me. "Besides, she had every right to do so during such an intimate moment."

The Show-Me State:

We chatted until the water turned cold. We got out, dried off, and dressed. The sun was up, and it was time to check out and start the next leg of our journey. Akira drove, and we took highway 44 north towards Missouri. I fell asleep and had a dream that felt so damn real. I stood in front of a tall basalt tower with lightning crackling between my fingers. I uttered arcane syllables and thrust my hands forward. The energy wrecked the tower's exterior as the air sheared and things flew through the rift. I thought they were gargoyles, but they weren't. They were winged demons from the literal pit of hell. I raised my hands and sent the searing bolts into the host. I uttered a new set of syllables, and a second portal opened, and angelic beings gleaming like daylight slammed into the demons. I lowered my hands in triumph.

"Let them battle it out," I said before the killing spell struck.

Instinct kicked in, and I poured my life and wisdom into one of my extremities. My power made it immortal and invulnerable from all but the direst of magics. I am not dreaming. No. I am reliving his last moments as a complete being.

"Yes. That was one of the last times the gate was open for an extended period. The ghost lines will erupt, and the world will change." Left said solemnly.

I woke, and the aircar was idle. Akira was watching me sleep. I looked around to find we parked in front of a gas station. We did not need gas, but Akira was hungry and thirsty. I got out, and she informed me we were in Springfield, Missouri. I opened the door for her, and she walked into the convenience store like she owned the place. The young lady behind the counter greeted us and smiled at me.

"It is nice when a guy treats a lady with respect," Akira said. "Ice cream?"

"Right over there," the clerk replied, pointing.

I grabbed a four-pack of energy drinks and set it on the counter. The clerk could not have been older than twenty and cute in the ways midwestern girls tended to be. I especially liked the line of freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. She was down-to-earth and charming as all hell.

"Where did you find her?" The clerk asked.

"She is my... aw shit," I cursed as the two-armed robbers rushed inside. I instinctively moved between the gunmen and the clerk. "Listen, we can work this out. No one needs to get hurt."

"Motherfucker," the taller of the two masked men hollered. "I will be the one to...."

"Holy shit, it is him." The second man interrupted and lowered his weapon. "It is Booker! Dude, I am your biggest fan."

"You guys need money," I said, and they cringed. "Listen, life is hard on all of us at one time or another." I took out my wallet and removed all the cash I had. There were perhaps two hundred dollars. "Here, take it. Don't hurt the girl, okay." They hesitated and took the money after thirty seconds or so. "Go on home and seriously rethink things. If I can help, I will. No one needs to get injured. If you want to go to a trade school or something, I will do what I can." I saw Akira in a shooting pose with her rail pistol, a handheld railgun, aimed at the robbers. I knew if they did something stupid, their brains and viscera would decorate the walls and ceiling. "Go on."

"I told you he was the best." The shorter of the pair exclaimed. "We are leaving."

He turned to go and spotted Akira and the death stare she was giving him. He set his weapon on the floor and walked out slowly. His partner did the same, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"That was too close," I said, leaning heavily against the counter. "I think I need to trade the soda for something stronger."

"You stood in the way," the clerk said, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. "You saved my life."

Akira put her weapon away in its hidden holster inside her jeans. She winked and went to grab a bottle of tequila. I hopped over the counter and hugged the girl. The sheriff showed up and informed us that he had caught the two robbers outside and that his deputy had taken them into custody. The girl had hit the silent alarm while I talked the guys down. The tall, burly middle-aged man spotted the pistols on the floor and made a puzzled face.

"I was on my way here when you tripped the alarm. What in the hell happened?" He asked, and Akira gave him a play-by-play, leaving out the part about her carrying a weapon. "Hold the fuck on. I know you. You are that Booker fella; my wife always goes on about you. You are on her list, you know."

"Her list?" I asked, smiling. I began letting go of the clerk, and she clung tight.

"You know... her list of guys if she were to meet in real life she could fuck, and it wouldn't be a marriage ender. You are like number three behind Thor and Loki."

"Hey, not bad," Akira laughed. "Two gods and then you, typical."

"You okay, pumpkin?" The sheriff asked, and the girl nodded.

"I am fine, daddy," the clerk replied, and it only then dawned on me the obvious family resemblance.

"You are pressing charges?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"Booker gave them the money they have, and no one got hurt." She said. "Besides, Booker will have to be caught up in this mess if I do."

"I will give them a warning," the sheriff reluctantly agreed. He retrieved their weapons and laughed. "Plastic. Those two idiots could have gotten themselves killed armed with these things. Booker, it has been a pleasure, I don't suppose. What I mean is this, my wife would kill me if I didn't at least ask to take a picture with you."

Akira held the sheriff's phone and snapped several photos of me with the sheriff and his daughter. After the photoshoot, we got our snacks and paid for them. The sheriff returned with his phone in hand and handed it to me. It is her, he mouthed.

"Hello?" I said. A scream of joy came from the other end of the connection.

"Oh... my... god... it is you! I am your biggest fan." The sheriff's wife claimed.

"I believe you," I said, and she nearly hyperventilated. "Breathe. Calm down." She eventually got herself under control. "I hear I am number three on your list," I said, and the sheriff visibly flinched. He muttered the words 'oh man'.

"That son of a bitch," she cursed, and I fought the urge to laugh. "I... oh my god, I will die from embarrassment."

"Nah, I bet you are a doll," I told her, and the sheriff smiled and encouraged me to continue. "Listen, I would hate to miss out on meeting... hello? I think she hung up."

"She is on her way." The sheriff said, taking his phone back. "I give it twenty minutes for her to put her face on, pick out her nicest outfit, and haul ass up here."

"I will be sitting outside sipping some tequila," I said when the clerk dropped a verbal bomb.

"Hey, mister, are you going to fuck my mom?" She asked, and I felt my jaw drop open. Akira stepped outside just before she began laughing. "You are, aren't you... you are so going to fuck her rotten." I shook my head, and the clerk handed me her phone. "Swipe left all you want."

I looked at the first photo and took a small gasp of surprise. "Damn, that is your mom? How old is this photo? Only a year, huh. A redhead, aw hell." Akira heard that and laughed even louder.

"His kryptonite!" Akira howled as she cracked the seal on the tequila. I swiped left a lot.

"She was a beauty pageant contestant for years." The sheriff added with a sly smile. "She loves me, and I adore the ground she walks on."

I handed the phone back, and suddenly, a mental image of the sheriff in leathers, restraints, and a hooded mask popped into my head. I saw his wife digging her stiletto heel into his ball sack from above him. I joined Akira, and she handed me a bottle of soda.

"I guess I am driving," I said, and Akira burst into a new round of tear-ridden laughter. "Oh, I thought she was a dom."

"Only one way to find out. So, is she that cute?" Akira asked, her eyes kindled with a lust that only a romp in the back seat would alleviate.

"She has kept herself in perfect condition," I replied.

I had just finished my soda when the car approached. The sheriff was long gone. He and his deputy had decided to give the would-be robbers a ride home. I suspected they got one hell of a dressing down before he let them out of the back seat. The woman parked nearby, and I realized I had forgotten to breathe. Anticipation was killing me. The driver's side door opened, and she stepped out. The sheriff's wife, Belinda, wore a short denim skirt, a translucent blouse, and a black bra beneath it. Her breasts were fighting to get out of that annoying silk trap. She had dressed to impress.

"It is you!" She exclaimed as she walked over. I stood to greet her, and she threw herself into my arms and hugged me. "I am your biggest fan. Thank you for meeting me."

"She means sex," her daughter yelled from where she was restocking the shelves.

"Hush you," the redhead snapped. "I am not a slut."

"Says the woman clinging to him like he'll turn to smoke any second now."

"Your daughter says you used to be a beauty pageant contestant," I mentioned, and Belinda pressed her tits against me.

"Belinda," the redhead whispered in my ear. "But you can call me whatever takes your fancy."

"Bootilicious comes to mind," Akira said with a chuckle. "Have you seen the back end yet, Booker?"

"Oh, are you an ass-man?" Belinda purred. "Here, take a good long look." She urged as she spun around and ground her ass against my semi-erect cock.

"She's got your number. Should I put up the roof on the car?" Akira asked.

"Can we slow down?" I asked. "I don't know anything about you besides how beautiful you are."

"Absolutely," she said and put on the breaks. "I have followed your career from the beginning."

"Career? I am just a play tester." I corrected her, but she would have none of it.

"My channel covers all of your videos. I break down your problem-solving skills in and out of the game."

"Mom means how women do anything to sleep with you. Don't underestimate her; if I weren't working, I'd be all over you like a second skin." The clerk growled as she bent over to retrieve the product from a box. Her ass was as lovely as her mom's. "Yep, he's an ass man."

"So, your channel covers my sex life," I said, and Belinda blushed. "Oh boy. Are you a native of Springfield?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" Belinda trembled, and I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Not at all. A friend of mine invited me to visit. He lives," I paused and got a fix on the direction and distance of the GPS coordinates. "...about fifteen miles in that direction," I said, pointing. Belinda looked to where I was pointing, and she pursed her full kissable lips and made a thoughtful noise.

"There is nothing there." The clerk called out.

"Yeah, Quickening is right, just that road that lost funding and no one uses. Yeah, that project tanked what like six years ago." Belinda added to her daughter's statement.

"Quickening, that is an interesting name," I said as I had Surfer delve into the road and its financing issues.

"My dad wanted me to have a unique name. He was diagnosed with cancer and wasn't sure he'd even see my first birthday." She said, her eyes genuinely tearing up. She sniffled and continued. "He fought and beat it. He is in remission, but there is always that fear of it coming back."

"I guess that explains the list," I said, and Belinda chuckled.

"The list was just a joke. What are the odds of someone like, oh what the hell is her name?"

"Kalinka?" Quickening supplied the adult cosplayer's name. "He is in lust with her and then some." I pretended not to know who Kalinka was and tank the sheriff's dream.

"She is hot. I don't blame your dad," I stated. "So, why me?"

"Are you kidding?" Belinda exclaimed. "You are a straight-up nice guy and easy on the eyes. You treat other gamers with respect. You bring out the best in people. There is a rumor that you inspired the gal playing Katria, which is why she went full beast mode against the Brotherhood. Speaking of inspired, can I suck your cock?"

"Your daughter is right over there." I reminded her.

"Pfft," Quickening made a rude noise. "Not like this isn't the first time we shared a dude. For my nineteenth birthday, there was this drummer in a local band. He was so cute, and I was nervous, so mom and I made identical costumes, and you can guess how it played itself out."

"Fucked him bent," Akira added. We all looked at her, and she explained. "Anybody can fuck someone until they can't walk or talk, but it takes a real she bitch to fuck someone bent. So, is there a No-Tell Motel around here?"

"Three? Can he handle all three of us?" Belinda asked.

"Lady, by noon tomorrow, we are likely to be the ones fucked bent," Akira stated convincingly. "So, what do you say, Booker? Wanna break a mother-daughter team?"

"We can go to Hips, the new club that just opened a couple of months back," Belinda said.

"If that is the case," Akira said. "We should do a little shopping for nicer clothes. I only packed casual clothing for the road trip."

I agreed, and we spent the next hour shopping for something a bit nicer than our current apparel. Afterward, we had an early dinner and hung out until the club opened. When we arrived, a line had formed around the block of people waiting to get in. I could feel the pulse from the music within. The exterior hinted at the building's past, once a cinema before that, a theater dating back to Vaudeville. Surfer dug deep into the structure's history, and one thing remained steady, the Gladstone family had built and maintained it for over a century. It screamed something tied to the Order of Chthon or one of its allies.

The four of us approached the line when several of the girls in line screamed and pointed at me.

"Booker," one screamed.

"I love you, Booker!"

The tall brutish man watching the entrance waved us over and into the interior of Hips. It seemed prestige had its benefits. Akira began to reminisce about Studio 54 and her times there as a dancer. We navigated the sea of bodies, and not all of them were human. Maybe it was Left's keen perception or something else, but I caught glimpses beyond the glamour they used to disguise themselves. My presence caused a stir, and soon the other patrons offered us drinks or chances to dance. I watched the band Black Kryptonite play a few cover songs before launching into a few of their own. The lead guitarist had a future, and the drummer was okay; the lead vocalist had a set of pipes on her that showed classicly training. Perhaps opera or a private vocal coach, she was too damn good to be an amateur. As I listened, I picked out her three-octave range and the powerhouse projection. She didn't need a microphone to reach the audience. It didn't hurt that she was gorgeous, like old-world beauty they carved statues of and hid away in temples to Aphrodite or Hera.

The band took a break, and I sent a drink over to the singer. The server handed her the glass and pointed me out, and the young lady approached. She was tall, muscular the way dancers are, and dripping with sweat from the hot lights and her performance. I snagged a bar towel and handed it to her.

"You should go pro," I said.

"Coming from you, that is quite the compliment. I saw you walk in with three outstanding ladies surrounding you. Where are the others?"

"Around, we are unwinding before we land somewhere for hijinks of one kind or another."

"Is that like shenanigans but more sensual?"

"It fits the bill," I said as I got lost in her frosty blue eyes. Her suntan and mane of ebony hair made her eyes pop like crazy. "Are you on tour?"

"No, I am not a member of Black Kryptonite. I just asked nicely to let me sing with them. I own this franchise, and you and your friends drink for free."

"Hips, that is such an odd name for a club."

"It stands for Hiding In Plain Sight. Not all of my customers are typical, and some are downright frightening. This land has been in my family for over a century. We meet the needs of travelers and the night folk. Honestly, you are the first Duskwalker to pass that portal in a very long time. What do you want, Booker?"

I hesitated and pondered her question. Did I want to make love to her or pick up a guitar and entertain the crowd? Someone nearby must have heard her mention my name and decided for me. How she knew I was a Duskwalker became a moot point when a voice called out.

"Booker? Oh my god, it is him," a girl said.

"Is your stage available?" I asked, and the woman gestured.

"Hello everybody, some of you might not know who I am," I said as the chant 'Booker' grew to an alarming level. "It is time to play stump the guitarist."

I borrowed a sleek red flying V, settled it over my shoulder, adjusted the strap, and plucked a few riffs before pointing to the audience. The first few songs were newer, but I had heard them on the radio or online. The next couple of tunes were golden oldies from people who didn't look old enough to know those songs. Then a booming bass voice requested a piece called the Prince's Lament. I hesitated, and then from out of nowhere, the melody filled my mind.

"Tricky, it is usually a violin piece; let me see if I can do it justice on a guitar," I said, causing the tall man's color to fade. After two false starts, I played the entire song enchanting the audience utterly with the alien tune. Tears flowed down the tall man's face, and he left without another word. "One more before I grab a beer."