| Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash |
Ronan is scared of losing Gia just like he lost Mayumi. This time, they’re
not going to go it alone. When the date was approaching, they traveled to
the nearest settlement. They had already sent word to a midwife, who doesn’t
have much to do because relatively few people are becoming so immersed in
the simulation that they’re choosing to have real children. She offered to
come to them, but they don’t only want her expertise. They want to be close
to a lot of people, in case they need anything else during this uncertain
period. The other players are clearly shocked by it. They know that Gia is
real, and that this birth is real. They know that the other children here
are NPCs, but Ronan’s entire family is composed of real people. They are a
total anomaly, and it fascinates them. They know that they’re not supposed
to talk about it, however. Ronan would be open if not for the immersion
rules. Before he entered, he would talk about it to anyone who would listen.
This is simply not the time or place for it.
Ronan is pacing, frustrated and annoyed. This is one of the reasons he and
Mayumi isolated themselves. He wanted to be in the room, but the culture
will not allow it. He was only allowed in back then because there was no
other choice. Now, they can’t make that argument. Gia is with the midwife,
and her two apprentices. One of them looked pretty young, so she’s probably
just fetching water and towels, and he doesn’t know if she’s an NPC too, or
what. It can be very confusing. Or maybe he’s just so confused at the
moment because he’s singularly focused on that longhouse. He’s so far away,
he can’t usually hear her screams, but her voice occasionally carries far
enough. Or it’s a bird, and he’s imagining things. He hears her again,
though. It’s unmistakably Gia. He stops pacing, and starts to head right for
it.
One of the other players puts his pipe in his mouth, and reaches out to hold
Ronan back as he shakes his head. He’s not really smoking. It’s literally
just water vapor. It’s one of the few technologies that people use
regularly. Just pretend it isn’t what it is, and is just a regular pipe with
tobacco, or whatever disgusting stuff they smoked back then. “I appreciate
the impulse, but we have to respect tradition. That longhouse is for
womenfolk only. You’ll see your kid. He’ll be all cleaned up first, though.”
Ronan bobbles his head, knowing that this guy is right, but still wishing to
break the rules. “You got any of your own?”
The guy takes his pipe back out and looks around to make sure no one else is
listening. “Almost ninety of them, all over the age of two hundred.”
“None came here to Danmörk?” Ronan presses.
He shakes his head. “None even, uhh...came to the castle, to use the
parlance.”
“You miss ‘em?” To Ronan, that’s a stupid question, but it takes all kinds.
“We have a private qua—” He stops himself before he can say the word
quantum. He was probably going to say quantum environment.
It’s a virtual construct that you can connect to across vast distances. It’s
a power and bandwidth hog, so most VR is done locally, but if you just want
a fancy way to communicate, and don’t need a lot of complex renderings, it’s
fine. “We see each other every once in a while, though it’s been several
decades since everyone has been able to make it.”
Ronan is just now realizing that his breathing has steadied, and his sweat
is evaporating faster than it leaks. These distractions are helping. He’s
calmer now. That’s when he hears a baby cry. Ronan runs off. Screw the
rules. That’s his kid!
