Chapter 10: You’ve already won

As Randall was about to climb out for the evening, Claire bounced an idea off him:

“I’m going to get on the ‘Net for a bit while you sleep. See if I can find any game literature that references any of the data points we’ve been able to pick out of the sims so far.”

He nodded, still in bird form. “Good idea. Terry might have been glomming from somebody else’s work. Could speed things up.”

Randall got out of the suit and heated up another burrito for dinner. He drank some more Gatorade and had a handful of trail mix. As he lay down on the couch, he could still feel the branches of the fern between his claws. He dreamed of flying through icy water and catching giant trout in his enormous, colorful beak.

* * * * * * * * *

Sunday morning.

I did this for a long time, he recalled groggily, the no-shower, no-bed, no-real-food thing. But I’m unused to it. Good thing it’s our last day.

He did a few stretches, ate a protein bar, and stepped into the rig.

The Victorian lounge was back. Claire was waiting for him. But not in period get-up. Just in her regular clothes. Nice, navy slacks. Tan blouse. Work shoes. Her hair looked nice; like she’d spent time on it. She was wearing make-up, too. She doesn’t usually wear much make-up, Randall realized for the first time. He noticed again the little pearl earrings he’d seen in her ears the first night they’d met.

He sat down. She looked… sad?

“What wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Not really. Nothing’s… changed. Not really wrong.”

“You look… I don’t know… upset.”

She nodded slightly and wouldn’t look at him..

He got up and went to sit on the ottoman in front of her chair. He put one hand on her arm and, at that, she looked up at him.

“What is it, Claire?” he asked. “What’s bugging you?”

“I know what the game is,” she said quietly. “I cross-checked our game data with as much of the other relationship sim information as I could. I also did some text searches in the public domain using some key phrase targeting and… well… I just figured it out.”

He looked surprised. “Oh. Well. That’s good. I thought we’d need another day here and some more…”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Well.”

For a moment, for Randall, there was no wall, fourth or otherwise. Just… concern. Something was bothering her. Her. Claire. He felt his hand on her hand almost as an afterthought… like an echo of the idea that was “us” in his head. The embroidered wallpaper was visual noise. In a weird way, so was the lock of hair hanging over her left eye. He could almost feel his thoughts, the part of him that registered as “me,” trying to come out and help. Help her explain. Help him understand. Just help.

She tipped her head back, and flipped the lock of hair out of her eyes.

Looked straight at him and said softly, “You win when I’m in love with you.”

It felt as if he’d swallowed someone else’s heart. Like there was another… something… inside his chest, beating at a different, faster rhythm than his own. He knew that outside the sim… in the VR suit… he was sweating, even though the system would be compensating and cooling him off, since the environmental conditions didn’t call for perspiration.

She was still looking at him. As if she wanted him to say something.

He had no idea what to say. It reminded him of how he’d always felt around women. And girls. And lots of other people. And, sometimes, just around himself. That feeling that there was a language that everyone else spoke. That he didn’t quite “get.” That he’d missed the class where they handed out the vocabulary for this kind of thing.

He looked down at his hand on her arm. She’d painted her fingernails, too. She didn’t do that very often. She didn’t have long nails. He liked that. They were neat and clean, but not long. Today she’d painted them a tan color that went really well with her blouse. It was a nice contrast to her dark hair and the navy slacks, too.

His chest was still heavy. He felt like he was underwater. But not in a good “I’m a polar bear” way. He remembered the first time he’d screwed up with her. When she left and didn’t come back for two weeks. That made his chest even heavier. It made his mouth dry. That’s not possible in a VR rig, he thought. I shouldn’t be able to feel my mouth in here.

She was still looking at him. Waiting for him to say… something.

“Did you hear me, Randall?” she finally asked. “About the score? You win when it hits one-hundred. When I fall in love with you.”

He nodded, and looked up into her bright blue eyes.

“Yeah. I heard,” he said. “Current score is ninety-four. I’m close to winning, I guess.”

He moved his hand up her arm to her shoulder. “I’m just trying to figure out how to tell you… that you… that you’ve already won.”