"Do you take scrip?" asked Stan, browsing the pawn shop's electronics section.

The clerk looked back with bored, bloodshot eyes. "Yeah. Looking for something?"

Stan grunted. He'd just spoted exactly what he wanted, but tried to look unenthused. He made a show of looking at old game consoles before picking up the Talisman gaming pad that sat like Excalibur between some stained laptops. "Can this thing run Linux?"

"What's that?"

"Never mind. I could probably use this for parts. How about fifty for it?"

"The price is marked, y'know. A hundred. Plus 20% for scrip."

Stan said, "That's crazy. I could get a real laptop for that, not a low-end console tablet."

The clerk rolled his eyes. "Dude, I'm not sure those things are even legal."

"I won't tell. All the more reason to get rid of it."

"How about I knock off the 20%?"

Stan concealed his glee. "Good enough."

He walked out with the Talisman and looked it over again. Simple rugged rectangle with gamer-style buttons and knobs on the sides, this one in ugly translucent red plastic. This kind of tablet could indeed run Linux, and technically it was illegal for not having built-in monitoring hardware, requiring the owner to pinkie-swear to keep the right software installed. More importantly, a Talisman was the best way to access Thousand Tales.

Well, other than having a VR pod or the whole "pay several million dollars to have your mind permanently uploaded to the game world" method. But even the first one took money a peasant like Stan couldn't afford.

He rode his borrowed bike home to Imperial Valley Youth Community Six. The dry vegetable farm had every material thing its residents needed, so a trip into town was really a luxury. Stan arrived just before sunset curfew and returned to his dorm. Past the cameras and the motivational posters, he had a tiny room to himself. The beige-walled private space and the shared kitchen and other facilities were the most luxury he'd ever known in his nineteen years.

Thousand Tales came up with a neutral grey logo and a beeps-and-boops song. Stan grinned and for the first time, watched the game's intro on a machine he owned. It began with a misty hill and a character to control, with tutorial text. A low-quality pixel dragon said in typed text, "Hail, traveler! Newcomers to the Tales should be tested to learn of their fate. Do you wish to send me scrolls of wisdom to speed the process?" A second window popped up, asking "Link to social media accounts?"

He'd played this game for a few minutes on a shared machine. The guy whose account he'd borrowed was playing a superhero, but Stan's experience was that he could talk to any of the individual townsfolk and get a coherent conversation. He got completely distracted using his powers to deliver a pizza. Then the game got kinda-banned in that way the Community did for "anti-social" activities, where it'd hurt players' social credit score and make it harder to qualify for weekend passes and other perks. On his own computer, though, he could probably evade that judgment.

He touched "No" on the screen. Let the game adapt to what he did in-game, not to the random stupid stuff he'd said online. In response, the game ran him through a series of puzzles. Part IQ test and part personality quiz, the intro had drawn some negative reviews from critics who missed the entire point: that Thousand Tales adapted to each player rather than being a single canned narrative where every player was the Chosen One.

The pixel dragon returned. "I have your results, traveler. The question is, what experience do you want?"

A trio of worlds appeared, filling the screen. Stan's choices were:

-The Merchant of Venus: A starfaring trade adventure! (Personal Zone)

-The Rebels of Norwood: Creatures of the forest battle a mad scientist! (Group Zone)

-Endless Isles: A world of ocean exploration! (Public Zone)

Stan said aloud, "So, a conventional online game versus something just for me, versus some kind of small-group game?"

The dragon's text said, "In the group game you can join an existing small community with a shared storyline. How central do you want to be to your world's plot?"

He laughed at the loaded question. The game's AI had a reputation for luring players into doing real-world favors for "her" like teaching other players or researching things. He said, "I don't need to be somebody important. I'll take the big ocean world."

The tutorial dragon rippled and reappeared, drawn in modern graphics. "In your case," it said in a hissing, spoken voice, "you can tailor your character a bit before you start. Any preferences? You will begin as human but can change later."

Stan's placeholder character filled out as a better-drawn human figure in generic shorts and shirt. "All that testing and you don't have a suggested character for me?"

"You're choosing to be part of a larger story that doesn't revolve around you."

Fair enough. The intro world vanished, and a sea so bright it lit up the dorm room replaced it.

#

His character climbed out of a shining pond. Beyond a stand of palm trees was a shining beach with a thatch-roofed bar, with steel drum music coming from it. Stan steered "himself" toward it and got a system notice about discovering Central Island, of the Endless Isles. Primitive wooden airplanes dueled overhead like kites. Stan headed into the bar.

The Crown & Tail Pub was an adventurer hangout. A big public map of an island chain filled one wall, the bar advertised magic potions along with booze, and the people ranged from humans in pirate outfits or skimpy armor to elves, humanoid dolphins, and an especially talkative parrot. Stan couldn't eat or drink here except to give his character a health bonus or something. He scowled; the people who'd been rich enough to really live in this virtual world were probably feasting 24/7 while relaxing on the beach. There was no obvious way to tell which of the bar patrons were uploaders, though, so he wasn't sure who to be mad at.

A well-tanned elf lady ran the bar. Stan took a seat and said, "What button do I push? Is there a quest menu?"

The barkeep laughed. "You can talk normally. You're marked as a newcomer, so here's the basic rule of this world: explore. There are save points -- the big blue crystals -- but whenever you log in you can only show up at an island where you've planted a flag. For flags you'll need cloth and an enchanter."

Stan opened his inventory window and found, "I'm dead broke. What should I do first?"

"That's easy. You can borrow a fishing rod and bring me fish, or make your way to Island East-1 and try the copper mine, or find some driftwood and craft a weapon. Those are just the basics I'm always handing out."

"Always?" said Stan. "Wait a minute; what are you? Human, uploader, AI?"

The elf only smiled mysteriously.

If he was going to do any fantasy adventuring, he needed a weapon, and free sounded good. "What tools do I need for crafting?"

"You can borrow some knives, or just use random rocks."

Rather than get caught up in a chain of deals, doing a quest to borrow tools, Stan walked out and combed the beach alone. He pocketed a sharp-ish rock he spotted, then came across a large gnarled stick bleached white by the sun. Easy.

A dog-sized fish monster emerged from the waves and snarled at him.

Stan ran toward the stick and grabbed it, but the critter was on him with its jagged teeth. Minor wound! said the interface. He had the stick equipped, so he swung with it and bashed the beast repeatedly. He took another minor wound and a major, but at last the monster yelped and staggered back into the ocean. A fanfare played.

Stan looked worriedly at the wound icons. His treasure was... a stick. He didn't have anything resembling a crafting station, but he did have an improvised club. Next, he should probably go fishing.

The Community's PA system, back in the real world, beeped for attention. "Dinner is served."

Stan groaned. It was Eat Your Vegetables Night, and attendance was in the same not-quite-mandatory category as most of the social activities. He logged out of Thousand Tales and went to eat a bland meatless supper while listening to a presentation about nutrition.