Game Stop
© 2021 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  dragonmelde, color by  marmelmm



“The hats you sold us didn’t work,” Varan growled as she stormed into Harriet’s Hattery.

“No refunds,” the elderly mouse said cheerfully from her position behind the counter.

The six-ship patrol that Varan’s cruiser had been part of had been relieved by another group of ships, and the Bōank’s crew was enjoying some leisure time. Varan guessed, with a high degree of certainty, that stories about her insulting the Terran ship had gotten around very quickly. She saw no reason to stop it.

The patrol leader, Captain p’Shar, had hosted her and the other captains for dinner at Point Mu Station, and everyone had a good laugh at the junior captain’s use of Terran basic. One had told her that he might contemplate learning the language, in order to trade insults as easily as Varan had done.

The next day, Varan had reserved time in a simulator. After running through two battle simulations and one boarding action scenario, she loaded the most recent game module. She and Meredith appeared in the middle of the village of Mausheim, the last saved point, with the game program simulating the behavior of the paladin mare.

“I don’t want a refund,” Varan said patiently. “They didn’t work against the elephants.”

“Of course they didn’t.”

The vir blinked. “What?”

“Well, they’re hats, dearie,” Harriet said, the mouse measuring out her words as if she was trying to explain simple concepts to a particularly slow child. “They’re supposed to look pretty, and maybe keep the rain off. Tsk,” she shook her head while muttering, “poor girl, thinking hats would work.”

Varan set her mage’s staff aside and placed her hands on the counter. “That implies that you know what will work. Tell me.”

“No.” Harriet stepped back from the counter. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, my dear.”

“Aka? Why?”

“Because it’s lunchtime.”

“We’re not leaving until I get some answers,” and Varan retrieved her staff as Meredith placed a paw on her sword.

“If you refuse to go, I’m afraid I’ll have to make you leave,” and Harriet grabbed a derby from a hatstand and threw it at Varan. The vir dodged it, and glanced behind her as the hat’s brim sliced the head off a mannequin. The mouse eeped and ducked under the counter as the vir fired a bolt of magic at her; a display case exploded, and the fight was on.

Another hat came flying out from behind the counter, and Meredith parried it with her sword with a metallic clang! before the paladin brought her shield up to deflect a steel hat block. Things started getting very busy for the mare, as more hat blocks were flung at her, along with a variety of razor-sharp derbies, boaters, flat caps and berets.

A succession of similar objects flew at Varan, who was using mana at a high rate to deflect the clouds of sewing needles that the mouse was hurling at her. The vir took a step to the right and paused, feeling something tugging at her left ankle. Looking down momentarily, she saw a measuring tape wrapped around the limb like a tentacle.

More were coming.

“This is ridiculous,” Varan said. “Meredith?”

“Busy!”

“Get behind me,” the vir said as more measuring tapes snaked their way up her body, fighting as her tail snapped back and forth to block their paths. She felt the mare press up against her back, and before one tape could wrap itself around her muzzle Varan cast Sleep.

Harriet yawned, and was snoring before she hit the floor. Everything that was in the air or creeping along the floor towards Varan and Meredith also went inert.

“Are you hurt?” she asked her friend.

Meredith plucked a needle from the arming coat under her consecrated armor. “I’m okay. How about you?”

Varan pulled a measuring tape out from under her robe and sniffed at the end of it before throwing the thing aside. “Angry and embarrassed. Let’s take a look at that mouse.” The pair eased around the counter to look at the unconscious rodent, snoring peacefully. “We need to search her,” and the mage raised her staff.

A simple spell reached out, wrapped around the sleeping mouse and caused all of her clothes to dissolve. Apart from a pencil, scissors, and a small writing pad, there was nothing left. Another spell, this one a deeper scan of the body, followed.

Meredith was watching the windows for anyone approaching when her ears flicked as Varan grumbled. “What is it?” she asked, craning her neck to look over the counter. “Oh.”

The spell would cause any object on or inside a body to glow. Varan had grasped Harriet’s tail and lifted it, revealing a glowing ornament between the rodent’s buttocks. “You’ve got to be kidding,” the mare said.

Varan huffed and pointed at the stylized silhouette of a mouse. “Typical. Game designers.” She flexed her fingers and said, “I’m glad that this is just a simulation,” and she grabbed the circular object and pulled. With a wet squelch the object came free and she cast a cleaning cantrip over it before holding it up.

It was made of some silvery metal, bluntly pointed and rounded for easy insertion; it flared about three centimeters wide before narrowing considerably at the base, which bore the silhouette.

The vir was looking at it when Meredith said, “Ah.”

“What?” Varan looked down. “Aka.”

Harriet was gone, and in her place was the sleeping form of a roan stallion.

The mage and the paladin looked at each other. “So,” Meredith said. “Shapeshifting talisman.”

“It does appear so, yes.”

“This does raise more questions, you know.”

“Ulnt. Where do we get another – “

“Why ‘Harriet’ here was wearing one – “

“And how will wearing one of these get us past the elephant village.”

Meredith chuckled. “You forgot one thing, lir demef.”

“Aka i’?”


***


The doors to the simulator opened and Varan stepped out, the datapak containing the latest saved game clenched in her fist. Her feline pupils were dilated in anger and her tail was quivering agitatedly.

“I will need to send this to Meredith,” she growled. “Lubricant, indeed . . . damned perverse game designers . . . “