Firestarter... Why did it have to be the Firestarter?

There were seventeen million professional gamers among the five leagues in North America alone. Out of them, less than a tenth of a percent reached the status of elite. Firestarter was more than en elite: she was a megastar. Barely nineteen, she had been in the circuit for five years, incinerating opponents in anything from flight simulators to action RPGs. Her personal preference was full action shooters, where she had remained in the top ten list for the last four years.

When Firestarter had turned eighteen, the sponsors had had a field day. At that point, all child-protection laws ceased to be in effect, allowing her to sign contracts for any type of virtual or real-life product. According to rumors, several online dating sites had offered her a five-year contract worth a quarter billion to be the face of their marketing campaign. Firestarter had rejected the offer, although her team of agents had come to an agreement to allow the use of stock game footage for an undisclosed sum of money. Maybe she wasn’t as rich as the corporates, but in my book, she came pretty close.

My pulse rushed as I watched her joke around a few tables away with two other progamers; I recognized one of them as a minor league BBG champion. Meanwhile, I was experiencing internal conflict at its best. Being in a room with celebrities was enough to give me a taste of starshock. Even if I wasn’t in any Firestarter fanclubs, I still followed her progress, reading the occasional gossip rumor on the net. In different circumstances, I’d probably have Twinkle take a picture of her. At the same time, I had her as my competition… and that terrified me.

Firestarter was in her custom nymph bladedancer avatar, designed to have a maximum resemblance to her real life appearance—from the chocolate skin to her iconic orange-red hair. I wouldn’t be surprised if all her equipment was at least mythical rarity.

“Scared?” If there was any more glee in Max’s voice, she’d be in a nineties musical.

“And Claire missed that?” I turned around.

“I told you, he sees things differently.” Max shrugged. “She wasn’t hired by anyone, no brokers made a deal with her, and as far as I know, she has no backers. She just leveled up her account, then went on to gather clues.”

“Yeah, right.” This sounded like an obvious lie.

“I’ve been shadowing her since she killed the behemoth. Fancy work, too.” The assassin took another bite of her ice cream. “She did it purely on skill, not a fluke like you.”

Great. Claire had told Max about me. Since she was our point of contact, I guess it was sort of expected, but I didn’t like her knowing this much about me. Next chance I had, I was going to talk to him about it.

“How did she find the clue locations?” I opened the pouch Max had given me. Among the tokens was one for a free liquor shot. I took it out and placed on the table. A fifty-gram glass with a glowing green substance appeared. “She must have gotten help.”

“Maybe.” Max shrugged. “I just know she's gotten no messages since the start of the quest. Once she killed the behemoth, she grabbed the loot, then started doing quests all over Vespetria.”

“And you’re sure she it’s not some PR stunt?” I paused for a moment then gulped down the free shot in one go. It tasted of acid mixed with mint and rose perfume. Undoubtedly, I would need a taste module for my hardware to truly appreciate it.

“Oh, that’s what I thought, until she got the hint in the library.” Max smiled widely. “I was invisible, so she didn’t spot me. After she killed off the NPCs on her first go and got the hint, she said ‘Six down, two to go.’ Just then, TKO messaged her to meet here.”

You smug little pest. I preferred Max when she was threatening me. Pretending to be nice while spiteful was too much out of character. She was right, though. Firestarter didn’t just enjoy the win, she loved devastating her opponents in the process. I could see her finding the gate and standing guard just to kill her competition. At max level, I wouldn’t lose any XP for being killed, but Firestarter could continue killing me until my quest clock reached zero.

“Does Claire know?” I checked my tokens for another free drink. There were several discount tokens, but no more freebies.

“No, and we’ll keep it that way.” Her tone suddenly got sharp.

“Get real,” I snorted. Time to engage in a bit of real life bluffing. It was like my father used to tell me when I was growing up: play the player, not the game. “You didn’t spend all that money to get me here just to gloat. So much time and money wasted.” I shook my head tusking as I did. “Claire will be very upset.”

“You wouldn't dare!” Max hissed under her breath. “I’ll—“

“You’ll what? Nuke my accounts?” I crossed my arms. On the inside, I was shaking. Taunting her felt like playing chicken with a tank—the only way to win was to trick it into stopping. “Good luck getting anyone to deal with Claire after such a stunt. So just tell me what you want, and let’s get done with it.”

“What I want is you out of my life!” the assassin screamed. The privacy settings of our table ensured no sound reached any of the other customers. Her actions, though, were enough to gather a few curious stares. “Things were so much simpler before you showed up! Why can’t you just go away?”

Just go away? The moment I heard that, I froze. In my experience there were only two types of people who used that phrase: children and crazy exes. I had no idea which category Max fell in, and I didn’t want to. I’d had my share of jealous girlfriends go after me because of my avatar settings, mostly minor stuff, but they didn’t have Max’s skills.

“I will,” I lied. “Once I’ve completed the quest, Claire won’t be interested in me. He’ll use the info on some other pawn.” The word felt degrading. “You’ll never hear from me again.”

Max looked at me without saying a word. I could guess she thought I was lying, but I expected part of her hoped it to be true. For the moment, I could work with that.

“Why did you bring me here, Max?” I asked softly. “It wasn’t just to warn me, was it?”

“Firestarter knows the quest is a big deal.” I could hear faint sniffling in Max’s voice. “I snatched the chat log she had with her ex. She’s not serious about it yet, but only because she has a tournament tomorrow. After that, she will be.”

“Right.” I nodded. Six hints gathered before a tournament? Progamers were scary beasts. “Are you sure we can’t tell Claire?”

“He’ll just get angry.” Max waved her hand through her ice cream glass. The moment the back of her fingers touched the side of the virtual surface, it disappeared with a faint chime. “It’s complicated.”

It always is. “So I have till tomorrow to figure things out?” I glanced at Firestarter once more. She was laughing with her friends. One could describe her as just another teen out to have some fun in the virtual world. It was almost difficult to believe that this little thing had the power to frag me twice before I could draw my weapon. “Any chance you know what the clues mean?”

Max shook her head. It was a long shot anyway.

“Thanks for the warning.” I stood up. For a moment, I hesitated whether to place my hand on her shoulder. It would be a nice fake gesture, though one I ultimately couldn’t go through with. “I’ll take care of this.”

A few seconds later, I logged out of Vesperia. Endless space extended in all directions, filled with ad clips and banners. Normally, I’d scroll through them to find something popular to stream some content. Right now, I had no such desire.

“Twinkle, find me Firestarter’s latest footage from Vesperia,” I said. “Since the start of the month.”

A cascade of video windows appeared in front of me. I chose one at random and started watching. Ten seconds in, I already regretted it. The speed and precision with which the girl sliced up the mobs was enough to make army commandos envious. A minute in, I reduced the speed to a quarter standard. Firestarter was using a vanity character with augmented magic skills, yet not once did she resort to them. Her entire focus was on hand-to-hand and melee attacks. The attack pattern was strangely consistent: two feints, an evade, and three consecutive strikes in the neck—the most widely known NPC weak spot. One after the other, mobs and bosses alike fell within seconds.

“Twinkle, is Jeff on duty right now?” I closed the video window. The kitten floated up to my face, but didn’t say a word, its mouth covered by a mask. “Unmute.” I sighed. The companion was so old, it didn’t have contextual override functionality.

“Jeff left a few hours ago, Sarah,” Twinkle informed me with a typical smile. “The shop will be closed until three o’clock, when the next shift starts. Do you want me to send him a message?”

“Yes. Tell him that—“ I stopped.

Was there anything I wanted to tell Jeff right now? Maybe I should send a message to Claire instead? As tempting as it was, it was doubtful either of them could do anything. Progamers had their own specific security. Any attempt by someone to meddle with their account, and two squads from the PD’s Cyber Division would roam through the city while four more flooded the web with enough tracers to choke an elephant.

“Cancel that.” I pulled down the settings menu and stared at it. For the first time in a very long while, I didn’t feel like playing. “Twinkle, what is the weather like outside?”

“Temperature is eighty-five Fahrenheit, slight wind, no rain expected in the next six hours.” The AI sat in midair. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

It had been years since I had taken a walk for no reason. Even as a child, I’d mostly stay at home, changing one set of walls for another. My parents didn’t seem to matter much, they were both home based employees. Any day I’d just sit quietly and play my own games was a victory for them, pretty much. My grandfather, though, couldn’t stand it. Hardly a day would pass without him badgering my parents to have me “get some fresh air.” There was no such thing, but I still did it to humour him.

“Twinkle, what’s your progress with the egg?” The thought of Firestarter was still lingering in my mind.

“I estimate I’ll be done in two hours and seven minutes!” The cat beamed.

“No worries. Just keep at it and...” My words trailed off as I came to the realization what I’d just heard.

Two hours? I stared at Twinkle so intently that my expression might pass for a reaction animation. It was supposed to take four days at best. Jeff, what did you do!? My only hope was that it wasn’t illegal enough to attract attention. First thing at work tomorrow, I was going to ask him to return my AI to factory settings.

“Any conclusions so far?” I could feel my heartbeat despite my avatar.

“It seems identical to a low scale representation of the Firegrain Desert,” Twinkle said without batting an eye. I felt like screaming. “Or something else entirely. I’ll know for sure in approximately two hours.”

Of course he would.

“You have a new message from FlickerFlacker,” the cat said. The timing was so precise I could almost say he was trying to change the topic. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

“Yes.” I tried to sound as calm as possible.

“I have bought the fifth clue!” Twinkle said trying to mimic Flicker’s voice pack. “Meet you in Kali?” The AI companion cleared his throat, indicating the reading had finished. “Do you want me to send him a reply?”

“Yes.” I opened Vesperia’s login window. “Tell him I need to take care of something and will be with him in three hours.”