Tinman, Chapter 2 The airlock hissed, a gust of recycled oxygen buffeting Cass's face as she followed Sam onto the metal gangway. Vibrant chatter swirled around them like confetti, the Ares colony alive with a cacophony that was both alien and exhilarating. Her ponytail swayed as she stepped from the shadow of the transport ship into the unfiltered light of a well-established colony settlement that needed no life support dome. "Wow," Cass murmured, her gaze lifting to the expanse above, where real sunlight warmed her skin. “Look how tall the buildings are.” Sam stood beside her, a quiet sentinel amid the chaos, his hazel eyes taking in the scene with an analytical calmness that seemed at odds with the energy around them. "They’ve been successful." Cass nodded, her excitement growing as she drank in the sights of their new home. The architecture was a blend of the ingenuity from many worlds—curving structures interlaced with angular buildings, all shimmering with a translucent sheen that made the skyline look like a mirage. “Welcome to Newhaven, Corporate Capital of Ares, have your passports ready,” announced a pleasant voice over speakers. “Transport to Carthan, Newtown, Miskan, Briedstone, Forsune, and Tathon are available at the end of the concourse after you go through customs.” People of all shapes and sizes bustled past, their clothes a kaleidoscope of colors and styles that marked them as residents of various corners of the galaxy. Cass detected languages that curled around her ears with unfamiliar tones, interspersed with the mechanical beeps and whirs of drones flitting overhead. Her heart was a syncopated beat matching the pulse of the colony. She couldn't help but feel the stirrings of nervousness twisting with her enthusiasm—a tangled knot of emotion that anchored her to the spot for a moment too long. "Ready, Cass?" Sam asked, glancing down at her with a reassuring smile. "I’d rather go home," she replied, her voice a barb of regret. “But if we have to do this, let’s just get it over with.” With a deep breath, Cass stepped off the gangway and onto the concourse filled little shops promising ‘tariff free’ goods within the spaceport, her green eyes wide and bright with the promise of adventure despite her reluctance. The automated voice continued over the speakers pleasantly. “Enjoy tariff free shopping within the concourse – Currency exchange available at any bank kiosk – Enjoy the ultimate gaming experience at the Trident, 20% off all games with purchase of the gold game pack – Eat at Rupart’s Diner, the finest home cooking in the Galaxy – Trey’s Taxi service, leave the driving to us.” Sam navigated the throng of people, his strides purposeful amidst the cacophony that enveloped them. Cass followed close, her gaze darting from one storefront to another. Neon signs blinked above their heads, casting a glow on the path ahead. "Hydro-Grown Veggies – Taste Mars at Home!" one sign boasted in luminous green. Beside it, a holographic ad for rugged all-terrain boots jogged in place, keeping time with the bustling crowd. "Over here, I think," Sam murmured, pointing toward a shop where metallic camping gear glinted in the display window. The sign above read "Survivalist's Haven", flickering as if mimicking the stars. Cass's attention, however, was snagged by a different sort of beacon. A few meters away stood a store, its entrance flanked by flashing images of intergalactic adventures and pixelated heroes. The words "Game Galaxy – Your Portal to New Realms" scrolled across the top in radiant blue letters. "Sam," she tugged at the fabric of his jacket, her voice barely above a whisper but insistent. Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the game store's allure. "Can we go in? Just for a second?" He turned to look at her, the hesitation clear in his furrowed brow. Yet the hopeful gleam in Cass's eyes was something he found hard to resist. Gaming had always been her refuge, her way of connecting dots that seemed scattered to others. "Alright, but just for a minute," Sam relented, his voice tinged with the warmth of understanding. He knew this detour meant more to her than mere pixels and code—it was a slice of familiarity in an unfamiliar world. As they stepped into the game store, a symphony of electronic chimes welcomed them, and the air buzzed with the electricity of imagined universes waiting to be explored. Cass's heart skipped a beat, already reaching out for the adventures that lay beyond the screens. Cass stepped closer to the display, her eyes tracing the contours of the remote gaming consoles. They were sleek and elegant, with surfaces that gleamed like the heart of a distant star gone supernova. Each console seemed to whisper promises of uncharted galaxies and epic quests, their advanced technology a siren song to any gamer's soul. The consoles' design was a masterpiece of ergonomics, fitting effortlessly into the palm of one's hand. Their interfaces glowed with a soft luminescence, buttons and touchpads integrating seamlessly into the chassis. The air around the display hummed with the latent power of these miniature portals to other worlds, and Cass could almost feel the electric hum of anticipation in her fingertips. "Those are the latest models," a voice broke into her reverie. "Top of the line." Cass turned to see a boy, about her age, and wearing a shirt with ‘Galaxy Games’ printed on the front with a nametag pinned on the front standing beside her. His smile was friendly, and his eyes held the spark of someone who found joy in the shared language of gaming. "Hi, I'm Kyle," he extended his hand, which Cass shook tentatively. "I’m Cass, its short for Cassiterite, not Cassandra,” she replied. The boy paused for a moment before replying. “Oh, like the gemstone-mineral that tin is smelted from.” “How did you know that?” Cass asked suspiciously. Kyle turned his head and tapped an earpiece. Cass narrowed her eyes. The boy was wearing a salesperson A.I. assistant to help him discover the best way to sell her something. Cass grinned. “I’d like to order a pizza with extra root beer.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “The pizza response only confused the Model 2201 and earlier, this is a Model 3207, it’s telling me to ask if you’d like the bananas sliced or whole on your pizza. So, you into gaming?" Kyle's question hung between them, an invitation to converse in the dialect of digital warriors and not salesperson to customer. "More than anything," Cass admitted, her voice steady but tinged with an enthusiasm she did not fully mask. "These consoles... they're incredible." "Right?!" Kyle's grin widened. "I've spent hours on end with these bad boys. They've got quantum processors and haptic feedback that can make you feel the rush of a hyperspace jump." His hands mimicked a ship blasting off, punctuating his excitement. "Feels like holding the universe in your hands, doesn't it?" Cass's gaze drifted back to the display, her imagination already hurtling through virtual realms at the speed of light. She traced her finger along the smooth, iridescent surface of a console, its price tag flashing in luminescent digits that made her heart sink. "I'd love to keep playing even here on Ares," she murmured, more to herself than to Kyle. "But these prices are crazy." "Did you check out the Ares Dome yet?" Kyle leaned against the counter, his expression open and curious. Cass nodded, her ponytail swishing behind her. "Yeah, the Captain pointed it out when we were landing. But honestly, I'm from Mars, I shuttle over to Ceres almost every day, and they’ve got the best gaming dome in the galaxy there. Hard to imagine any place could match up." Kyle's eyebrows rose, a playful challenge lighting up his eyes. "Best dome?" He shook his head with a wide smile. "Ceres is cool, sure—but it's a twenty-ninth gen dome. Ares? We're thirty-fifth generation here. We're talking about next-level tech." Skepticism furrowed Cass's brow as she considered the implications. "That may be, but I won't get to enjoy it much. I'll be out in the wilderness with my dad, far from any domes. The best I can hope for is a second-hand console so I can play stand-alone 2D games." His smile didn't waver. "You might be surprised," Kyle's grin broadened as he witnessed the spark of curiosity in Cass’s eyes. "You see, Cass, these portable consoles," he waved a hand toward the gleaming display, "they're connected to satellites orbiting Ares. It means you can game inside the dome from anywhere on the planet—even out there in the wild." Cass's gaze lingered on the consoles, her mind racing with possibilities. But reality was a heavy anchor. "That's... incredible," she admitted, "but I can't exactly afford one." Her voice trailed off, a note of longing betraying her practical facade. "Ah, but there's always a chance." Kyle tapped his nose conspiratorially. "We raffle off a demo model every month. No cost to enter, and maybe luck will be on your side today." A flicker of hope ignited within her. "Why not?" Cass shrugged and scribbled her name on a ticket, tore it along the perforated edge, and dropped it into the container brimming with entries. No sooner had she done so than Kyle plucked her ticket from the top of the box. "Let's see who the lucky gamer is today." His voice boomed, filling the store. "Number 82, who has number 82?" The room held its breath, a collective pause punctuated by the shuffling of hopeful feet. Cass rolled her eyes at the dramatics and glanced at the ticket in her hand. The numbers stared back at her, boldly declaring her unexpected victory. "Seriously?" She extended the ticket toward Kyle with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "It's me. Number 82." Laughter danced in Kyle's eyes as he took the ticket, confirming the match. "Would you look at that? Seems like the universe conspires for gamers after all." *** Kyle's fingers danced across the holographic keypad, a flurry of luminous strokes against the dim backdrop of the store. The demo console, a sleek obelisk of technology and potential, nestled into its box like a gem within its velvet cradle. "Alright, Cass," he said, eyes not leaving the screen. "Let's get you set up with a transfer. Username?" Cass hesitated for just a beat. "Tinman," she replied, her voice as steady as the hum of the machinery around them. Kyle paused, his brow creasing in mild puzzlement as he glanced up at her. "But, you're a girl?" His tone held a note of genuine curiosity, not judgment. "It's from an old Earth movie I love," Cass explained, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She could almost hear the tinny echo of that black and white world resonating through time to this vibrant, alien place. "Classic," Kyle acknowledged with a nod, returning his attention to the task at hand. He tapped into the console's heart, setting the wheels of digital migration in motion. The room fell silent but for the soft chirps and whirs of devices conversing in their secret electronic language. Cass watched, transfixed, as her digital life materialized on the screen before her—a mosaic of achievements, memories, and virtual conquests. "Whoa." Kyle let out a low whistle, surprise registering on his face as he scrutinized the display. "Why is your profile so big?" "Is it?" Cass peered over, trying to discern what had caught Kyle's eye. "It's just my homepage and game stats." "Too chunky for a standard setup," Kyle mused, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the interface. "But I've got just the fix." He was already ahead of any problem, his resourcefulness shining bright as the neon lights outside. "Here's what we'll do, Tinman," he continued, speaking as if revealing the secrets of the universe. "We'll upgrade you to a citizen account—more data, more access, all the bells and whistles. Welcome to Ares Dome, no restrictions." Cass felt a swell of gratitude and excitement. This was more than a stroke of luck; it was a ticket to a new frontier of gaming and exploration. "That's amazing, Kyle. Thank you!" "Consider it part of the winning package," he said with a grin. The screen flashed, signaling the successful transfer. "You're all set. Citizen access, unlimited data, and entry to our private gaming sanctuaries. Your legend starts now. And check your profile, you’ve got something in there that’s huge." Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the myriad of colors dancing across the display. Cassiterite, the Martian geologist's step-daughter, had claimed a new world under her gamer moniker, Tinman. And somewhere beyond, the wilderness of Ares called to her, promising adventures as boundless as the stars themselves. Cass cradled the sleek, obsidian console in her palms, a hum of wonder threading through her voice. “What’s this, a camera?” Kyle beamed, pride lighting up his features like the console’s luminescent screen. “Oh, that is a camera, but it’s also a miniature holo-emitter.” He leaned in, his voice carrying the excitement of shared secrets. “You can summon any game A.I. to teach you new strategies or practice combat skills with.” A soft exhalation escaped Cass as she shook her head, strands of sandy blonde hair catching the ambient light of the store. “The Ceres portable consoles don’t have this.” “I know, huh?” Kyle said with a knowing nod, his tone laced with gentle superiority. “It’s Ares proprietary technology. I told you, we’re a more advanced game dome than Ceres. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff their working on. Rumor has it we’ll be upgrading the arena to a gen thirty-six soon.” The reality of her new possession settled over Cass, a mantle woven from threads of anticipation and awe. She traced her fingers along the console's edges, feeling the cool touch of innovation at her fingertips. With meticulous care, Kyle gathered the console’s lifelines—the cables, the neural-headset, and an array of tiny gadgets that seemed to hum with potential—and nestled them into the box alongside their central counterpart. He closed the lid with a soft click, a silent testament to the beginning of Cass's journey within the Ares Dome. "Good luck, Tinman," Kyle intoned, his voice a blend of camaraderie and challenge. "See you in the arena." His words lingered in the air, a beacon guiding Cass to the untapped horizons of gameplay and exploration that awaited her. She felt the weight of the box in her hands—not just the physical heft, but the gravity of possibility. With a final glance at Kyle, her green eyes gleaming with gratitude and resolve. “Thanks.” *** The clamor of the Ares colony enveloped Cass and Sam as they exited the game store, the buzz of conversation and clatter of machinery weaving a tapestry of alien normalcy. Cass cradled the box like a precious artifact, her grip firm, ensuring its safety against the jostling crowd. The corners of the package pressed into her palms, tangible evidence of the world she was about to embrace. Sam’s gaze swept their surroundings, his mind cataloging the necessities for their impending expedition. "We'll need supplies that last," he murmured, more to himself than to Cass, his voice barely cresting above the din. Cass nodded absentmindedly, her thoughts adrift on digital seas. The console within the box, a siren calling her to uncharted virtual realms, promised escapades as boundless as the star-speckled void above. She felt a flutter in her chest, an electric current of anticipation that left her skin tingling. “Did you notice the jacket hanging on the chair behind the counter,” Sam said. “I don’t know if it was his jacket, but the tag on the jacket said, ‘Game Master’. Cass shook her head. “He’s too young to be a Game Master.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, probably, but I read the founder of the Ares Dome was only fourteen when he built it. And, I suppose you didn’t notice the pictures on the wall behind the counter. Your friend back there is the spitting image of the founder, Zachariah Hunter.” “No way he’s related to greatest Game Master in history,” Cass argued. “The Hunter Dynasty is huge,” Sam countered. “If you had dozens of grandchildren and great-grandchild, where else would you stick a great-grandson to keep him out of trouble except behind the counter of a game store.” “You really think he’s a Hunter?” Cass asked. “Everyone saw him cheat that raffle, but not a single person said a word.” Sam stopped to look in the window of the survival gear store. “Just be careful, those corporate types don’t do anything for free.” Sam decided against the allure of the survival store. The Steward on the transport ship had given him a tip where another store offered really good prices. They wove through the mosaic of humanity that painted the streets of Ares—a swirl of colors, languages, and intentions. Signs flickered overhead, advertisements for Martian delicacies and Terran textiles vying for attention against the backdrop of towering spires and monolithic screens that projected scenes of interstellar grandeur. With each step, Cass's eyes darted down to the box she held, the allure of the console inside pulling at her with a gravitational force. 'Just a peek,' she thought, imagining the crisp graphics and responsive AI awaiting her command. Her fingers itched to explore the sleek interface, to lose herself in strategic conquests and pixelated adventures. "Careful there, Tinman," Sam's voice broke through her reverie, a gentle chiding as she narrowly avoided a passerby engrossed in their holoscreen. "We've got plenty of time for games once we're settled." "Right," Cass replied, sheepish but undeterred. The nickname, once a playful nod to her favorite old film, now felt like a badge of honor—an emblem of the identity she carried from dome to dome, world to world. It was a mantle she bore with pride, ready to etch her name into the annals of Ares' gaming legends. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the pavement and bathing the colony in a warm, amber glow. A cool breeze whispered promises of coming nightfall, but for Cass, the true dusk would descend when she donned the neural-headset and dove headfirst into the nocturne of the Ares Gaming Dome. “Where are we going to stay?” Cass asked. “I have no idea, I’m as lost as you are,” Sam replied, the itch of concern starting to gnaw at him. They might have to sleep on the sidewalk tonight until he figured something out.” She glanced once more at the box, a silent vow etching itself across her heart. Adventure beckoned, both within the pixels of her new console and in the wilds of this brave new world. And Cass, ever resourceful and determined, was ready to answer the call. *** Special Notes: The 1939 movie, The Wizard of Oz, and all its songs, are copyrighted. However, All of the books of L. Frank Baum have passed out of copyright protection and entered the public domain with their plots and characters available for general use. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, published in 1900 entered the public domain in 1956.. So, as long as I only use the original book as a foundation for some of the future adventures I’ll be using, I’m good and there are no copyright violations.