Tinman, Chapter 8 The catamaran sliced through the water, its sleek design parting the river's embrace with practiced ease. At its helm, Sam Ryan's eyes flickered between the navigation panel and the peculiar sight ahead. A raft bobbed gently on the current, leading them further inland like a whimsical guide. Upon it stood a boy, or rather, the holographic projection of one. Draco, with the sun casting ethereal glows through his translucent form, wore an ensemble that seemed plucked from history books. Ragged knee-length pants clung to his digital legs, and an over-sized shirt, reminiscent of an 1800’s pioneer, fluttered against the soft breeze. A straw hat, perched atop his virtual head, completed the picture of a boy untouched by time. "Seems a bit much, doesn’t it?" grumbled Sam, his voice tinged with annoyance as he gestured to the holo-boy. “I told him to stay inside the survey drone.” Cass stood beside her step-father, arms crossed, watching Draco with an affectionate gleam in her green eyes. "He wants to be part of the world, not just trapped inside some drone," she replied, her tone carrying the weight of understanding. Sam shook his head, failing to mask a smirk. "Wants? He's code and light, Cass." "Maybe," she conceded, "but he's also more. He isn't content being a robot, confined and invisible within a metal ball." Cass pointed toward the survey drone trailing the raft, its sensors discreetly hidden beneath layers of camouflage. "That right there gives him the freedom to move around, to exist out here with us—as much as any AI can." "I was trying to find a way to keep him hidden," Sam mused, the corner of his lips quirking upward for a fleeting moment. “But, he’s a machine intelligence. I’ve never heard of an AI seeking freedom, it’s odd.” "Isn't that what we're all looking for out here, though?" Cass challenged, her gaze never leaving Draco. "A chance to explore, to be more than what we were confined to be?” Sam sighed, conceding the point with a nod as he redirected his attention to the river ahead. The drone continued its dutiful dance around Draco, casting his image onto the raft, onto the world—a silent testament to the wonders and oddities that lay beyond the realm of expectation. Cass watched the holographic boy, Draco, a spectral pioneer leading the way with an ethereal lightness that seemed to defy the river's flow. Her voice softened as she turned to Sam, her eyes reflecting the hues of the virtual child. "Draco isn't like other AIs, Sam," she began, her gaze fixed on the shimmering figure. "He's a game AI—designed to engage, to be part of a world that's both real and imagined. Regular AIs are tethered to their holo-emitters, confined to a set stage. But Draco..." She paused, allowing the significance of her words to settle like dust in the still air. "With the drone following him, he's unbound. He can touch the world in ways other AI’s can't." Sam's brow furrowed, his mind grappling with the notion. "Unbound by anything but code, you mean," he countered, though his tone carried less conviction than before. "Even so," Cass shot back, her determination unwavering. "Isn't it beautiful? An AI that can almost taste freedom?" "I’m not going to turn him in, he did save our lives, and he’s a valuable resource," Sam noted, steering them past a bend in the river where the foliage thickened, a curtain of green closing off the sky. “I just find it difficult to accept that an AI might have achieved sentience.” Leaving the conversation to hang between them like a bridge yet to be crossed, Cass retreated to her bunk. The small space felt even more cramped with the weight of her thoughts. Lying down, she stared at the ceiling, the rough wood a canvas for her longing. The wilderness enveloped her, its untamed heart beating against the thin walls of the catamaran, urging her to embrace its call. But civilization—the gleaming Ares game arena—tugged at her with invisible strings, whispering promises of comfort and familiarity. There, amidst the rush of virtual games and the thrum of digital life, she could find solace from the relentless embrace of nature. For now, she closed her eyes, letting the hum of the boat's engine lull her into a restless slumber, drifting away from the wilds of the frontier to dream of battles fought in the confines of coded arenas. Cass reached for the neural-headset nestled beside her bunk, its sleek design glinting in the dim light of the cabin. With practiced hands, she fitted it snugly over her head, the interface connecting with a soft chime that resonated in the small space. She powered up her portable game console, its screen casting an ethereal glow against her determined features. "Connect to Ares Dome," she commanded, her voice steady and resolved amidst the quiet hum of the boat's engine. The console beeped in affirmation, reaching out through the satellites that bridged the wilds to civilization, tethering her to a world where code was king and reality malleable. In the blink of an eye, Cass' surroundings dissolved into a whirlwind of pixels and data streams. Her avatar, a digital echo of her physical form, materialized within the vast interior of the Ares game dome. She took a moment, letting virtual reality settle around her like a second skin. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the enormity of the dome. It was colossal, stretching farther than the eye could see, a testament to humanity's ingenuity and ambition. The dome loomed over her, larger than life, its ceiling arching high above like the heavens themselves had been captured and sculpted into this grand coliseum of digital conquest. Originally intended to cradle a colony beneath its protective shell, the structure now housed a metropolis of gaming arenas, each one a world unto itself. She strolled along the streets that were both real and virtual–it was difficult to know where reality ended and fantasy began. There were people physically present, tourists and gamers alike. It all blended together seamlessly. She gazed at the diversity of realms contained within the dome's embrace. Sports arenas vibrated with the echoes of cheering fans, adventure areas beckoned with the promise of untold quests, while fantasy and zero-gravity environments warped the very fabric of physical laws. And there, at the heart of it all, the main event arena stood proud—a pulsating core of competition and spectacle. Cass paused, taking in the sheer scale of it all, a feeling of awe mingling with a tinge of nostalgia. This was what she longed for—the thrill of the game, the clash of wits and strategy. Here, she was not just Cassiterite Ryan, daughter of a Martian geologist; she was a warrior, a tactician, a force to be reckoned with. In this boundless city within a dome, she could lose herself and find herself all at once, battling not just for victory, but for the pure, unadulterated joy of the game. Cass drifted through the bustling virtual cityscape of the Ares dome, her avatar's footsteps soundless on the cobblestone paths. Around her, the digital facades of shops glimmered with inviting warmth, holographic displays casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the streets. She passed parks where laughter bubbled from children chasing after pixelated butterflies that dissolved into stardust when caught. Her gaze swept across schools where avatars of all ages congregated, their chatter punctuated by the chime of bells signaling the beginning or end of virtual lessons. The hum of the city was a symphony to her senses, each note a reminder of the life that thrived within this grand gaming enclosure. Malls towered above, their levels stacked like layers of a cake, brimming with wares and wonders from every corner of the game universe. Cass marveled at how seamlessly the Ares game dome mimicked the vibrancy of a real metropolis–or maybe it was the same, reality and virtual merged together. Approaching the city center, she found herself amidst a carnival in full swing. Vendors hawked their virtual treats—cotton candy clouds and ice cream with flavors that promised to sing to your taste buds. Games of skill tempted passersby with prizes that glittered like miniature stars captured in glass spheres. Distracted momentarily by the celebrations, Cass allowed herself to breathe in the joyous chaos, the digital air somehow feeling electric with festivity. But her purposeful stride soon led her away from the revelry and towards one of the fantasy arena buildings that dotted the landscape like ancient castles summoned from the ground. As she entered, the clamor of the carnival faded behind her, replaced by the hushed excitement of an ongoing session of Red Knight. It was a training game, tailored for the younger players, but the thrill it ignited in Cass was ageless nostalgia. She watched from the sidelines as tiny warriors brandished foam swords and donned helmets too large for their heads. That's when she saw him—Kyle, weaving through the crowd of children like a shepherd amongst his flock. His movements were fluid, his instructions clear and encouraging, eliciting giggles and determined nods from his small charges. Her heart stuttered at the sight, a mix of emotions swirling within her—a blend of admiration and an unspoken tension that tightened around her chest. Kyle was unaware of her presence, fully absorbed in his role as Game Master, his avatar exuding the same charisma that characterized his real-world persona. For a moment, Cass simply observed, noting the way Kyle's enthusiasm seemed to kindle a similar passion in the children. They hung on his every word, eager for the knowledge he shared so freely. And though Cass stood invisible among them, she felt a connection to this scene, to the purity of gaming and learning it represented. Yet, even as she stood there, a part of her knew that this fleeting peace would soon give way to the storm brewing within her—the unresolved clash between past camaraderie and present betrayal. Kyle's gaze swept across the room, pausing as it landed on Cass. He raised his voice, his tone bright and engaging. "Gamers, we have a special guest," he announced, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Tinman from Ceres Dome has entered the arena! Join me in inviting her onto the sand and showing us some moves!" A sudden hush fell, followed by the excited murmurs of children as they turned, searching for the heralded gamer. The spotlight swung away from Kyle, missing its target and casting an ethereal glow on the floor beside her. "Come on, Tinman! Show us!" the chorus of young voices beckoned, their enthusiasm palpable in the electric air of the gaming dome. Cass stood frozen for a heartbeat, her bright green eyes narrowed into slits of pure hatred directed at Kyle. The memory of Draco's projection flickered like a ghost in her mind—his digital existence twisted by the Game Master before her. Yet, despite her seething anger, Cass' hands moved with practiced ease, checking her inventory with a thought. Her gear, a collection of virtual weaponry and armor honed from countless hours of gameplay, was all accounted for. With one last glare at Kyle, she stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the synthetic grains of the arena's sand. She spread her arms wide, and with a command whispered under her breath, she activated her armor. "Equip," Cass said, her voice steady and clear. In response to her summons, pieces of armor materialized out of thin air, hovering around her like planets orbiting a sun. With a flourish, they snapped into place over her body, encasing her in gleaming metal and intricate circuitry. The display was nothing short of spectacular—a fusion of light and motion that left the children gasping in awe. As the final piece locked in with a satisfying click, Cass stood transformed. No longer just Cassiterite Ryan, but Tinman, the indomitable warrior of Ceres Dome, ready once again to step into battle, even if this time it was only a demonstration for eager, wide-eyed children. Clad in her shimmering armor, Cass stood at the center of the arena, the eyes of the children around her glinting with excitement. She raised her voice, letting it resonate across the virtual sands. "Red Knight, Red Knight, come out and fight!" Her challenge hung in the air, an echo bouncing off the digital domes that towered above them. The simulated landscape responded, ground rumbling beneath their feet as the notorious Red Knight avatar materialized before her—a towering figure clad in crimson plate mail, wielding a sword that glowed like molten lava. With a grin that was more for the kids than herself, Cass lunged into action, demonstrating the stances she had learned as a young gamer back at Ceres Dome. Her movements were fluid, a dance of swipes and parries honed by years of virtual combat. She charged, her feet barely touching the sand, and met the Red Knight with a clash that sent sparks flying. "Watch closely!" she called to the children as the Red Knight staggered back from her relentless assault. In a whirlwind of steel and determination, Cass dispatched the formidable foe with a deft strike. As the Red Knight disintegrated into pixels and light, a cheer erupted from the young crowd. They mimicked her, waving their own tiny swords and holding up shields, their voices rising in a chorus of excitement. "Red Knight! Red Knight!" Cass moved among the children, her presence commanding yet gentle. She adjusted a grip here, corrected a stance there, her hands guiding the miniature warriors with ease. The thrill of competition faded, replaced by the warmth of sharing her knowledge with eager minds. "Like this," she said softly, repositioning a boy's shield so it covered him better. "You'll be invincible now." The children laughed and jostled, each of them taking turns to show off their newly learned skills. Despite Kyle's unwelcome presence nearby, Cass couldn't deny the joy bubbling within her. Teaching these kids, seeing them light up under her guidance—it was unexpectedly fulfilling. It wasn't the Ceres dome or the Martian landscapes she missed; it was this connection, the sharing of a passion for the game. "Good! That's how you hold your sword," she encouraged a little girl whose eyes shone with admiration. "Thank you, Tinman!" the girl squealed, her avatar performing a clumsy but enthusiastic slash through the air. "Alright, who wants to take on the Red Knight next?" Cass asked, her voice carrying across the sands, and the children's response was immediate—a sea of hands shot up, accompanied by eager shouts. In that moment, Cass was no longer just a player. She was a mentor, a hero to these youngsters, and perhaps, she thought, that wasn't such a bad role to play. Cass was kneeling, adjusting the grip of a tiny hand around a virtual hilt when she sensed him drawing near. Kyle's shadow fell upon the simulated sand, lengthening across the arena as he approached her with that easy stride of his. "You would make a good Game Master for the kids," Kyle observed, his voice carrying an undertone of respect that bordered on admiration. Cass straightened up, her avatar flickering with a surge of anger. She fixed him with a glare, her bright green eyes sharp beneath the simulated sunlight. "You've got some nerve talking to me after what you did," she snapped, her words crisp in the digital air. "I'd like to pound on you with my sword." "Look, Cass." Kyle held up his hands, palms out, the universal sign of peace. His tousled black hair seemed to underscore his earnestness, his sharp eyes searching hers. "I'm sorry about what happened, but I had nothing to do with it. And fighting a Game Master in an open arena isn’t permitted." She crossed her arms, the motion causing her armor to shimmer with a metallic clink. The children, momentarily forgotten, paused in their duels to watch the unfolding drama. "Fine," Kyle continued, undeterred by her cold demeanor. "At 11 am in the Apollo Arena, open challenges to Game Masters are permitted. It’s usually just a fun game, letting gamers fight their favorite Game Masters. But if you want to make it a blood match, I'll accept." The offer hung between them, a virtual gauntlet thrown down upon the sands. Cass didn't respond, but her silence spoke volumes. The children looked on, sensing the tension, their previous excitement replaced by a hushed anticipation. Cass' jaw clenched, her pulse thundering in her ears like the drums of war. The glare that seared from her eyes could have melted the very code constructing the virtual world around her. Her body trembled—not with fear, but with a wrath so palpable it seemed to ripple through the air, distorting the pixels of her surroundings. "Fine," she hissed, each syllable dripping with venom. "I'll be there." The words slashed through the tension, promising retribution. Cass turned on her heel, the armor encasing her form catching the light and casting an ominous gleam. With every step away from Kyle, her resolve hardened like cooling lava, shaping into an unbreakable will. Children who had been watching now whispered among themselves, their earlier enthusiasm dimmed by the gravity of Cass' fury. She didn't look back. Ahead lay the prospect of confrontation, and with it, a chance to settle a score that had gnawed at her for far too long.