Chapter FourWafer Thin

A short lifetime of grueling study, preparation and test taking, and now they finally had a chance to catch their breath and celebrate Soph's birthday. She had turned sixteen a week before, but had not taken her hands off her laptop when Atom, who was sitting at his desk across the room, broke the silence to mention the fact that the clock had struck midnight.

"Shall we celebrate?"

"Not tonight. This paper is killing me."

And so the matter had been dropped. Until tonight. They celebrated both her birthday and their first successful assault on the higher educational establishment by going out for sushi, and by ordering far too much of it.

"I'm pretty sure if we eat all this we're going to get mercury poisoning."

"I'll take my chances. This was a good call."

The restaurant was in Mill Valley, and it was the kind of place with a fish tank and a waiter who called Atom sir. Soph had wanted to go somewhere terrible and cheap, and Atom had said no, it's your birthday, you can have a terrible cheap dinner when you're seventeen. She had ordered the things she could pronounce and he had ordered the things he couldn't, and then he had ordered more.

"So. First semester," said Atom. "How does it feel?"

"Like a semester." She chewed. "It's fine. It's the same as the college classes we were already taking, just more of them, and nobody thinks we're somebody's little brother."

"They think we're somebody's little brother."

"They think you're somebody's little brother. They think I'm lost."

"You're very small."

"I'm compact."

"Compact. Yeah." He reached across and took a piece of something off her plate. "Hey, did you talk to your mom about Stanford?"

Soph put her chopsticks down. The plan, which was mostly Atom's plan, was to finish out the year at the community college, where they had been taking courses since they were thirteen, and then apply to Stanford as transfers with two years of credit and a letter from Richard. Richard's letters opened doors.

"She said she'll write a letter if I want one."

"So that's a yes."

"That's a yes if I want one. I want to get in because I got in."

"You will get in because you got in. The letter's just so they read the application first."

"That's cheating."

"That's networking. My dad says the difference is whether you get caught." He grinned. "I'm kidding. He's never said that."

"He has absolutely said that."

She laughed, and looked at the table full of plates and the fish tank and the boy across from her, and thought, this is what it looks like when it's good.

"Do you ever think it's weird?" she said. "That we're doing the exact thing everybody assumed we'd do. Same school, same major almost, same everything."

"Same girl," he said. "I don't think it's weird. I think we got lucky. Most people have to go find the person. We were just standing there."

"That's very romantic for you."

A thousand miles to the North, Rat was navigating a Red Lobster menu, discreetly searching for vegan selections.

"Shrimp lobster combo. Side of clam chowder." Her companion's English was practiced and direct, but with a hint of condescension. Rat believed this attitude to be generally true of Korean gamers as a whole.

"Uh, I'll have the green salad with no cheese and balsamic. And a potato, no butter."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something more? I'm paying."

"No, thanks." Rat wanted to say something, but she decided it was best to hold her tongue. The man meant no offense, she knew, and this was business.

The waiter took their menus. Rat looked into the man's eyes. He was Jeong Yong Kim, former pro gamer, current manager of one of the highest ranked Korean teams. He didn't fly across an ocean to take her on a date.

"So let's cut to the chase, eh?"

"And what chase do you think that is?"

"You manage the Estex Dogs, and Proleague is a month away. If I had to guess, one of your players got poached or you're looking to add a little diversity."

Jeong laughed. "That is a very logical guess, although it is not why we are here. When I ask you about how you make a living harvesting ingredients for enchantments, that seems like small talk to you. It is not to me."

"I'm making thirty or forty bucks a day. I can't imagine how that would be anything but small talk."

"I will explain. You spend two or three hours harvesting, so you must make about ten dollars an hour?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"In Vancouver or Seoul, that would not be very much money. But I have known many people in parts of Korea and China where that would be a lot. Many are already experienced gold farmers."

"So, how does this involve me?"

"We have a farming operation. One hundred players, all equipped with basic gear. They go out in parties of four or five and do what you do by yourself. It is not efficient. It is barely profitable. We want you to train them."

"Why me? Don't you have anyone back in Korea?"

"We have a highly competitive gaming culture. In Seoul we make our living by winning matches and getting sponsorships. Korean players spend their time practicing for competition. Most of them do not even bother questing, they simply buy the items they need. It is very difficult to find people who prefer bread to glory."

"So you don't actually know any good farmers."

"That is basically correct."

The waiter set down their plates. Jeong picked at the lobster while Rat mashed up her potato mercilessly.

"So let's say I go along with this, how would it work? Would I go to Korea, or do you send your guys here?" asked Rat.

"Neither. You would bind to our players in Korea. Every day for three hours you train our team, teach them everything you know. You will receive ten percent of all profit. Ten percent from one hundred players first, then ten percent from one thousand players, pretty soon ten percent from ten thousand players."

"Hmmmm…" Rat mulled it over in her head as she dressed her salad. "Binding, you mean with a Link? I don't have one."

"I brought one with me."

Rat looked at the bag on the seat beside him. It was a plain black gym bag, and it had come across the Pacific with a piece of hardware in it that had gone out to a few thousand players three weeks earlier, and that she could not have afforded if she sold every vial she'd ever harvested.

"Alright. I still intend to compete this season."

"That is perfectly understandable. We all seek glory."

"How long do I have to think about it?"

"I get on a plane tomorrow. I must know tonight."

Rat poked at her potato. It was pretty dry. She'd gone enough nights without dinner not to be picky.

There were things she should have asked. Whether he knew what she was, and whether it would matter to him if he found out. Whether a hundred men in the mountains would take orders from a bearded ranger whose voice came out a hair too high. Whether a ten percent handshake across a Red Lobster table meant anything at all. She looked at him, and at the bag, and thought about the road to the cabin in January.

"Alright. Fuck it. I'm in."

Jeong smiled and raised his water glass. "To bread."

He gave her the bag when they left. It was heavier than she expected. She rode the last bus north with it in her lap and both arms wrapped around it.

"You just had to get the mochi ice cream at the end, didn't you?" Atom grunted as he unbuckled his belt. "I feel like that guy in that one Monty Python movie."

"One wafer thin mint?" Soph had inherited her mother's appreciation for Monty Python and had passed it on to Atom.

"Haha, yeah. That guy."

They sat in Atom's car in the parking lot, practically comatose.

"I can't decide whether I want to make out with you or fall asleep right here," said Atom.

"Wasabi make-outs, yum." Soph licked her lips. "You want to come over for a bit?"

"Yeah, but then I'm going to want to stay over," said Atom.

"I don't think my mom really cares."

"Yeah, I don't think my dad does either."

"Then it's settled."

Atom started the car and shifted into drive. Soph put her hand on his as he gripped the shifter.

The drive home was not long. It was a straight shot, with a few long stretches and a couple of stoplights. Atom grinned, sheepishly.

"What?" Soph asked.

"Nothing. Everything."

"Atom." She looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"I– look out!"

Soph was interrupted by a thunderous crash as a truck blew the light and smashed into them.