The aurora city
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| Beyond these garden walls
Where teardrops shape and fall Such radiant treasure win To die is to have sinned For Markman, it was ominous. It sounded like a warning that things would not be as easy as they had been. Unknown danger waited beyond this
gate, and in this unpredictable alien place, that danger might be fatal. He reached for the simple latch but hesitated. He looked upward, knowing that Cassiopia and the entire sensesuit computer team were watching but unable to help. He unlatched and went through. The gate swung open full and rang out when it struck the fence. A strange silence came over the awesome, colorful beauty of the garden. Flowing water from the fountain a few dozen yards away still filled the air with its music, but the atmosphere felt heavy with anticipation. Markman stepped anxiously along the flowered path, his Tao Chang martial arts senses coming to full awareness. He dared three more steps ahead, paused and listened; nothing but the sound of the fountain.
Ferns so brightly colored they were fluorescent bordered the path. Trees off to each side bore colorful fruit that glowed. The smell of wild flowers was intoxicating. Had Markman not been suppressing fear, he might have become careless in the garden’s wonder.
Three more steps, stop and listen. Still nothing. The fountain was only a few more yards ahead. For the first time, he noticed the monument holding the Coffer was periodically changing shape and color. The spray of water shifted in design as well, though the Coffer remained in place, unchanged. Four more cautious steps through the sparkling sand. Nothing. Perhaps the suspense was the challenge. Perhaps there were no adversaries hiding in wait, no final death-threats to
face. He could see the water in the pool around the fountain now. It was swirling in color and light almost as though it was alive. Markman dared another step but quickly froze. Suddenly there came a sound from the distance. Branches breaking, brush being trampled. He searched. It was coming from left of the fountain, still quite far away. In the distance, he saw a tree top suddenly bend and fall, then another. The distant forest was being crushed and pushed aside by something large. A pulse of fear caused Markman to step back. Along with the trampling of woodland he heard a loud, guttural bellow that sounded like a large, angry animal. The crashing of trees and brush intensified, moving in his direction until the trampling finally reached the edge
of the garden. There was a momentary pause and it began again. Now the garden was being crushed by something big, but to Markman’s amazement no creature was visible. As the chaos broke toward him, the howling and roaring became more frequent and almost deafening. Tensed and ready to fight, Markman backed away a few more steps. There was still nothing to see except an approaching path of trashed flowers and trees. Suddenly footprints that shook the ground began appearing in the sand a few dozen yards away, large, heavily contorted depressions. They were the size of an elephant’s, but left an impression like bear paws with a large claw in the front. It made no sense. Two clear imprints first appeared. They stopped forming for a moment, then
with another howl, a new print collapsed the sand. This creature was invisible. It was obviously gigantic. Markman backed away even more. More footprints pounded the sand, advancing toward him. There was an odor like dead flesh. A flash of new fear enveloped Markman and at that moment a translucent outline of the creature appeared. Two giant, fat legs supported a massive head and body that swung from side to side. Bright red eyes, glaring. The creature’s mouth was large enough to swallow a car. It kept opening wide to bellow, rocking as it went. Wide-eyed, Markman backed away but bumped into something behind him. It was the wrought iron fence. He moved along it without taking his eyes off the creature. At the gate, he backed out
further. The creature continued to advance, shaking the ground with each step. Past the open gate, Markman found himself backing into the desert. The sand was deep, a hindrance to escape. The creature stepped forward once more, closer than expected, crushing the fence and gate. It came at Markman with renewed determination. Markman turned and ran a short distance through the soft sand. He twisted back to look. The creature kept coming. There was no way to fight it. It was too big. He shuffled backwards, fear surging through him. It was a nightmare come to life. This couldn’t be a challenge. There was no way to fight the thing. This had to be a cheat to stop any players from reaching the coffer.
Markman turned away and ran farther into the heat of the desert, managing to gain some separation. The creature’s outline faded but continued pursuit, pausing only to bellow. Footprints in the sand marked its progress. Fighting his fear, Markman realized there was something familiar about those footprints. How could that be? The creature closed in, screaming and howling, its outline brightening as it neared. Drool seemed to be seeping from the open mouth when it screamed. The long flat desert offered no place to hide. Markman ran through the loose sand and gained more distance. He stopped for breath and collected himself. What was so familiar about this monster? The word monster triggered a memory. It was a flashback. He realized he
had seen this creature before, in an old movie. He was only five years old then, and the thing had scared the life out of him. What was it? Forbidden World, something like that. No, Forbidden Planet! Was that what Crillia was? In the movie, the monster was attacking people and they couldn’t stop it. In the end they realized the monster was formed from their own fear and anger. Monsters from the Id. Markman stopped running and turned to face the thing. Every time he had been farther away, its outline had dimmed. Was it that the safer he felt, the less powerful the creature? The greater his fear, the more powerful it became? It was the only chance. Markman forced himself to relax. The outline of the creature continued toward him but faded. Footprints
continued to appear in the sand. Markman straightened up and forced himself sit in the sand, pulling his legs into the lotus position. He folded his hands and tilted his head skyward in meditation. If death was inevitable, this was the best way to face it. The footprints and growling kept coming, but the shaking of ground faded and the prints did not seem as deep. They were less than twenty feet away now, but barely marking the surface of the sand. The howling began to lose its edge. Markman closed his eyes and found the inner peace he knew so well. The world around him faded into silence. At the point of perfect harmony, he opened his eyes. The monster was gone. Its footprints had disappeared as though they had never been. Only his tracks remained in the
sand. He stood and started to brush himself off but found no sand at all clinging to his virtual suit. After a final careful look around, he followed his tracks back toward the garden. What exactly had just happened? This was supposed to be a game taking place on the planet Crillia. How could a monster from an ancient film from Earth have materialized here? There was only one explanation. The game computer had somehow looked into his mind, found a deeply buried fear and brought it to life to attack him. It was a devious method of trying to eliminate a player by confronting him with one of his own greatest fears. But, this was not the time to relax. Would there be yet something else waiting beyond the gate? He shuffled
his way through the sand to the wrought iron fence. Damage to the gate and garden had vanished. The place was as pristine as when he first arrived. The gate stood wide open. Markman paused for another careful look around and passed through. A few steps along the garden path brought no sounds of attackers. The fountain, a few dozen yards ahead, was flowing with color. The jeweled Coffer waited within it. Markman crossed over to the fountain and searched again for predators. There were still none. As he approached, a low angelic hum began to fill the air. The only way to access the Coffer was to step up onto the fountain’s edge. Markman carefully stepped up, always scanning the garden. The angelic hum rose in pitch
and volume. Beneath his feet the currents of color in the pool began moving more excitedly. The Coffer was still too far to reach. He would need to step into the swirling fountain, another gamble. Markman balanced himself on the edge and decided there were no other choices. He tested the pool of light with one foot. Immediately, it began to evaporate to become a low hanging, colored fog. Daring to test it deeper, his foot found solid ground beneath. Holding his arms out for balance, he stepped fully into the pool. It was cool and damp. Angelic voices reacted to his entry by climbing higher and louder. The Coffer was one step away at chest height now. It began glowing through the jewels embedded within it. A large blue diamond formed the handle of its lid and was radiating
light in every direction. One more cautious step forward and still no unexpected consequences. The Coffer was now inches from his chest, beams of light emanating from its precious stones. He dared to touch the blue diamond lid handle. The angelic voices peaked louder and higher. With a deep breath for courage, Markman lifted off the cover and stared down inside. Stars. It was full of stars in a dark black sky, and in the center, a sombrero galaxy turning slowly in place. Markman opened his mouth to gasp, but never made it. A beam of silver light shot out of the center of the galaxy, striking him in the eyes. It drove his head back and beamed upward in a column of light reaching toward the heavens. It did not cease. Markman was lifted up, suspended by
the light, his arms outstretched in a crucifix pose, his body quivering and convulsing. In his mind, unrecognizable images raced by like a movie in super fast forward. It went on for half a minute, then gently subsided. Instead of falling to the fountain, Markman was lowered to the fountain’s edge, and left stunned in a sitting position. He sat with his face in his hands trying to collect himself and understand what had happened. As focus began to return, he looked up. The Coffer was gone. Only the fountain head sculpture remained. His feet were still immersed in swirling colors. He stood and tested his body. Everything seemed to work. Stepping out of the fountain he searched. Nothing seemed out of place except for the missing Coffer. As he turned back
to the fountain, he again became engulfed in golden light. This time when it subsided he found himself back in the Centrex pyramid. Trill was standing a few feet away. “Lords of Terra can it be? Have you done it? You have gained the Coffer? Mr. Baker, sir, I bow to you in humble apology. I should not have doubted you. This is remarkable! Centuries of legend so swiftly concluded! Many other competitors have visited the city, but no one has ever opened the Coffer. What was the reward? What will occur as a result of your win?” Markman gathered himself and looked at Trill in confusion. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me what happens now?”
“Sir, you have fulfilled the ancient prophecy. You are now an Overlord, an honorary aristocrat of Crillia. Word is spreading as we speak. It is said the Coffer endows you with special powers.” “Special powers? Like what?” “Sir, I do not know. Legend has it that these powers were once possessed by all Crillians, but lost over time. No one knows of them now.” “Trill, when you send me to the game, where do you actually send me?” “Sir, all visiting competitors are transported to Quest Haven. In your case, directly to the Dome of the Dragon Masters.” “And this is a place intended for combat and competition?” “A facility and tradition established long ago by our ancestors to test outsiders who wish admittance to
Crillian society.” “So I can travel around the city now, right? No one will try to kill me, right?”
“Mr. Baker, sir, you do not understand. You are the first ever to have completed the Dragon Master contest. No one was ever expected to. No one has ever received the Dragon Master prize. Legend says that you now possess the powers of our ancestors.” “I don’t feel any different…” “Sir, have you not noticed the triangle you now wear?” Markman looked down at his virtual chest. The blue triangle was now a softly illuminated gold. “What does it mean?” “Sir, no one wears the golden triangle, only an Overlord.” “But what does that mean?”
“Sir, it means that you are an ambassador to the Crillian high council and an honorary member of the Crillian guard.”
“Crillian guard?” “Sir, the Crillian military.” “Crillia has a military?” “Sir, of course. It dissuades invasions from neighboring planets, and surprises any insurgencies that might arise, though none have in hundreds of years.” “So what exactly is required of me in all of this?” “Sir, the Crillian high council will now accept and consider any diplomatic petitions you file. You are provided with an office here in the Centrex Pyramid, as well as a private residence.” “A residence?” “Sir, you are consigned residence
in the largest castle complex on Crillia. The Terra Nova Castle. It lies just north of the City.” “A castle?” “Sir, yes, part of an extensive estate.”
“Tell me something else, Trill. When I leave the game, doesn’t all of Crillia just shut down?” “Sir, heavens forbid, no. Life cannot be arbitrarily shut down.” “But, what if the central computer shuts down.” “Sir, the interloper eggs are self sustaining. They never cease synchronization.” “Eggs? Do you mean memory eggs?”
“Sir, you would need to consult the operators of the system for technical information. I posses only a
basic understanding.” “And so while I hold this Overlord position you’re telling me about, will you remain here to help me?” “Sir, I am honored to be your head of staff unless you choose to replace me.” “I have other staff?” “Sir, dozens.” “Trill, I want to disengage, but on my next visit I’d like to explore the city a little bit. Any problem with that?” “Sir, the city is yours to enjoy. On your next visit, I will brief you as thoroughly as possible beforehand. This is all so… unexpected. May the Gods of Terra guide us.” “Trill, let’s disengage.” “Sir, please step into the transport tube. I will eagerly await your return.” Markman took his position and
watched through the glass as a stunned Trill nodded and waved a hand across a control bed of crystals. An instant later, a flash of blinding white light, followed by the familiar clicking and hissing from the suit, told Markman he had returned to the real world.
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