My days started falling into a somewhat stable rhythm.
I got up at seven for breakfast with the crew, showered, then went into the desk room. I looked for jobs, sent applications, filled in whatever extra information companies asked for, and occasionally had a first call with some HR woman asking baseline questions like, “Are you legally able to work in the United States?” and “Are you able to travel to the office at this address?”
After about a week, I actually got a meeting with a team lead.
That felt good.
After lunch, I played games.
I finished Life is Strange, then went through Before the Storm and Double Exposure. I was currently playing True Colors, which probably came closest to hitting the same notes as the first game.
Somewhere along the way, I had built up maybe five regulars. Two of them had actually followed the channel, and most afternoons at least a couple of the same names would show up again.
One user showed up every day and was always active in chat: mossybyte.
I had no idea if they were a guy or a girl, young or old. From the way they wrote, probably not old, but that was about as far as I could guess.
They mostly commented on the choices I made and how they felt about each character. Never told me what to pick. Just had an emotional response to fucking everything.
Leah officially started her job at TEG the following Monday. She had bought several power suits for the occasion and looked extremely powerful in all of them.
It meant she was gone from the apartment for several hours every day, and Rina took over most of the day-to-day decisions while she was out.
My first problem showed up on October 24th.
I had finished True Colors and, at mossybyte’s suggestion, started playing Haven.
Then I got a whisper from one of my followers.
Northwindow:
Hello, this is Mark. Anna’s Mark.
I wanted to reach out. I just want to talk. I don’t hold any ill will toward you.
FUUUCK!
Me:
Hello, Mark. How’s Anna doing?
Smooth, Mia. Real smooth.
Northwindow:
She’s doing well.
We’re still together, if that’s what you’re wondering.
Oh.
Northwindow:
And she knows I’m messaging you.
Me:
Okay
Northwindow:
Anna told me what happened in Iowa. All of it.
Fuuuuuck.
Me:
How much is all of it?
Northwindow:
Enough that I don’t think we should discuss it through Twitch whispers.
But I want to be very clear about something.
I’m not angry with you. I don’t blame you for what happened. Anna and I have talked about it a lot.
Me:
And you’re still getting married?
Northwindow:
Yes.
Me:
So what do you want from me?
Northwindow:
Anna and I are going to be in New York for a week in November.
I was hoping we could meet for coffee while we’re there.
Me:
Both of you?
Northwindow:
Yes.
Me:
In public?
Northwindow:
Any place you want.
Northwindow:
You can bring Lin. Or whoever makes you comfortable.
I’m not trying to get you alone.
Me:
Why do you want to meet?
Northwindow:
There’s something Anna and I want to ask you.
I’d rather explain it in person.
Me:
That sounds extremely ominous, Mark
Northwindow:
Fair.
But it isn’t bad.
Just unusual.
Me:
Okay, when in November?
Northwindow:
We arrive late on the 9th and leave on the 16th in the afternoon.
Me:
Okay. I’ll check on my side and get back to you with a time and place.
Northwindow:
Thank you.
“FUUUCK!”
I’d ended the stream right after, telling everyone something had come up.
Rina stuck her head through the door.
“Something wrong? Got fragged?”
“I might.”
She frowned.
“I did something really stupid, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the ass.”
I gave her the quick version of what had happened with Anna at the wedding, which definitely piqued Rina’s interest. Then I handed her my phone and let her read the conversation I’d just had with Mark.
She drew a sharp breath through her teeth.
“I’d offer to come along as protection, but I’ll be back in LA by November.”
“You think he’s going to murder me?”
“Maybe.”
I stared at her.
“Rina!”
“What? Look, on the other hand, if I were Mark and my fiancée told me all of that, I probably wouldn’t still be marrying her.”
She handed my phone back.
“And getting revenge on you would be pretty far down my list compared to this Anthony guy. Maybe he just wants the video you took? That thing sounded like premium smut.”
“I don’t have it. I sent it to Lin and deleted my copy.”
“Does he know that? Does he even know about the video?”
My mind immediately ran through every possible version of that scenario.
“I should talk to Leah.”
“Yeah, probably a good idea. I’ll see if she’s free.”
Rina left, and Leah appeared a few minutes later with her hair tied back and her safety glasses pushed up onto her head. Black long-sleeved shirt, work jeans. She looked like she’d been living in the workshop.
“Emergency?”
“Need your advice.”
I gave her the rundown, then handed her my phone so she could read the conversation with Mark.
“I’d normally tell you to be more careful with your socials, but he was clearly determined to reach you.”
She looked back down at the messages.
“Better this than him turning up at the apartment unannounced.”
“Soo… what do I do?”
“You meet him. Bring Dan.”
“For protection?”
“Yes.”
She scrolled back through the conversation.
“Hear them out. You don’t have the video anymore, and you never touched Anna. Right now the only thing I’m concerned about is making sure they can’t do anything physical.”
She thought for a moment.
“Meet them somewhere public. And do it early in their trip. The day after they arrive, if you can.”
“Why?”
“Because if whatever they want creates a problem, I’d rather have six days to deal with it than six hours.”
“What do you think he wants?”
“The video. Or he wants to invite you to the wedding.”
“The wedding?”
“Possible.”
She shrugged.
“If he does, same answer. Bring Dan.”
“And if it’s the video?”
“Tell him the truth. You deleted your copy. Lin has the only one, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Not your smartest decision, sending it to her.”
“Thanks.”
“No point counting your milk once it’s spilled.”
I gave her a look as she handed my phone back.
“Figure out what he actually wants. Then we deal with it.”
She gave me a once-over.
“You good? Emergency over?”
I nodded. She gave me a kiss, then headed back into the crafting room.
I started by finding a coffee place that looked big and crowded, then texted Dan to make sure he could be there at the time I wanted.
Once he confirmed, I opened Twitch again and replied to Mark.
Me:
Ground Central Coffee Company, 55 E 52nd Street. November 10th, 10 AM.
Northwindow:
See you there.
I closed the whisper chat and let out a breath. Okay. Done.
A few days later, I wrapped up another interview and headed downstairs for a morning walk.
The TV was still running the production countdown.
5 DAYS, 6 HOURS, 23 MINUTES
Jesus.
Five days.
I was almost at the stairs when I heard raised voices from the production floor.
Not yelling.
But definitely louder than the normal workshop noise.
I came down the stairs and found Imani sitting in her normal wheelchair in the middle of the production floor, arguing with Magnus.
Beside them sat the thing he had built for Halloween.
It was technically a wheelchair.
Sort of.
The seat was mounted maybe eight or ten inches higher than normal, inside a huge metal frame. The clear sides of the fake fish tank came almost to the seat, and the rear wheels rose halfway up the glass.
The front of the frame was completely open.
Below the seat, where her legs would normally have been, the mechanical fishtail hung suspended inside the frame.
Bare printed sections. Exposed hinges. Cables. Motors. Wires hanging loose from green circuit boards with fresh silver solder across them.
Some of the pipework around the frame already looked like old copper. Other sections were still raw grey plastic, especially around the 3D-printed joints.
It looked unfinished as hell.
But I could already see what it was becoming.
A steampunk nightmare aquarium.
Brass-looking valves. Pressure gauges. Fake riveted plates.
Lots of things whose purpose I could not identify.
Magnus pointed at something underneath the frame.
“The drive system has redundancy.”
“That isn’t the problem.”
“The controller can fail and I can bypass it.”
“You can bypass it.”
Imani pointed down toward the wheels, almost completely hidden inside the frame.
“If this dies in the middle of the party, I cannot move myself.”
“The motors have a mechanical release.”
“So somebody else can push me.”
Magnus stopped.
“Yes, but that should not happen.”
“But if it does, then I’m luggage.”
Oh.
That shut him up for a second.
Rina was standing a few feet away with a coffee, watching them.
Magnus looked back at the frame.
“I can’t expose the hand rims without cutting half the side structure away.”
“I know.”
“And if I move the tank outward enough to clear them, the whole silhouette gets too wide.”
“I know.”
“I’ve tested the drive.”
“I know.”
Imani sounded remarkably patient for someone who had now said I know three times.
“I trust that you built a good system, Magnus. I don’t trust electronics enough to let them be my only way out.”
He rubbed at his beard.
“The controller isn’t some cheap mobility-scooter setup. There are two independent—”
“Magnus.”
He stopped.
“If my normal power assist dies, I disconnect it and use my hands. That’s the backup.”
She tapped the side of the frame.
“This doesn’t have one.”
Rina finally stepped closer.
“So the motors can disconnect?”
Magnus looked at her.
“Yes.”
“And once they’re disconnected, the wheels roll normally?”
“Yes.”
“And the problem is just that Imani can’t reach them?”
Magnus pointed at the frame.
“The tank structure covers the hand rims.”
Rina stared at it for a few seconds.
“What if she doesn’t need to reach those wheels?”
Magnus frowned.
“What?”
Rina stepped beside Imani and held both hands roughly where Imani would naturally reach if she were pushing a wheelchair.
“Put another set here.”
Imani looked at her.
“Another set of wheels?”
“Not actual wheels. Hand wheels.”
Rina mimed turning one.
“Connect them mechanically to the real wheels underneath. Chain drive or gears or whatever makes Magnus happy.”
Magnus was already looking at the side of the frame differently.
Rina continued.
“Normally you use the electric controller. If that dies, you pull whatever releases the motors, grab these, and drive the real wheels manually.”
Magnus crouched lower.
“I could run a chain down the rear column.”
“Would that work?” Imani asked.
“Yes.”
He reached for a notebook.
“Actually… yes.”
Rina pointed at the empty space beside Imani.
“And don’t hide them.”
Magnus looked up.
“What?”
“Make them part of the costume. Big valve wheels. Brass. Gears behind them. Make it look like she’s manually operating the machine.”
Imani smiled.
“I like that.”
Magnus was sketching now.
“The reduction ratio would need to be fairly aggressive.”
“My what now?” Imani asked.
“It means you shouldn’t have to spin the thing twelve times to move six inches.”
“Then don’t make her do that,” Rina said.
Magnus gave Rina a look.
“This could work. I need to model it in Fusion, but I think we can print the parts overnight. Imani, can you come back in two days? Should have the setup done by then.”
I had wandered closer while they were talking.
Up close, the whole thing got even stranger.
I tapped one of the clear panels.
There was no water behind it.
I leaned closer.
The tail was just hanging there in open air.
“Wait.”
Magnus looked up from his sketch.
“This isn’t actually a fish tank.”
“No.”
I pointed at the thick transparent frame around the panel.
“But there’s water in that.”
“Not water.”
He stood up and tapped one of the clear ribs.
The liquid inside shifted slowly.
Much more slowly than water should have.
“Propylene glycol mix.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Higher refractive index. Bends the light more. Your brain reads the distortion as depth, so a few inches of liquid in the frame can sell a much deeper tank.”
There were tiny bubbles moving upward through another section.
I watched them crawl along the edge of the clear panel.
“So the middle is completely dry?”
“Has to be.”
He reached inside through the open front and grabbed part of the tail.
The thing moved with a series of quiet mechanical clicks.
Up close, I could see several electric motors buried inside the joints.
“A wet fishtail means electric motors, joints, wiring and seals all operating underwater while fighting drag.”
He let it hang again.
“More weight, more power, more failure points. That would fail spectacularly.”
“How much water would the real thing need?”
“About a hundred and fifty liters.”
I looked at Imani.
Then the chair.
Then back at Magnus.
“And that’s…?”
“About three hundred and thirty pounds of water. Before the tank, batteries, chair, performer and costume.”
“Right.”
I nodded.
“That would be stupid.”
“Correct.”
He pointed around the edge.
“This carries eleven liters. Most of it is in the perimeter channels. The bubble system only circulates through those.”
I noticed thin strips of lighting hidden behind some of the fake copper pipes.
“And those?”
“Lighting.”
He reached over and flicked a temporary switch hanging from a wire.
The edge of the tank lit up.
The liquid in the frame caught it immediately.
Light scattered through the clear ribs, bending across the empty panel.
For half a second, the dry mechanical tail behind it looked like it was sitting underwater.
“Oh.”
Magnus smiled.
“Exactly.”
I moved around the side.
Now that I knew what I was looking at, I could see all the tricks.
The copper pipes were plastic.
Some were already painted and weathered. Others ended in grey 3D-printed elbows that had not been touched yet.
The gauges probably measured nothing, but they moved.
The riveted panels were hiding wiring.
The huge tank was mostly air.
Half the machine was fake.
But standing there unfinished, with the front open and wires hanging out everywhere, I could already see what it would become once everything was painted and closed up.
Some impossible Victorian machine keeping a mermaid alive.
Rina leaned against the frame.
“So. Emergency manual wheels?”
Imani nodded.
“Emergency manual wheels.”
Magnus was still sketching.
“I can have the drive assemblies printed tonight.”
Rina looked at him.
“See? Nobody had to lose.”
Magnus kept drawing.
“I lost most of my afternoon.”
“That builds character.”
I decided they had this handled.
“I’m going for a walk.”
Nobody answered.
Magnus was already measuring the side of the tank.
Imani was discussing where she wanted the new wheels.
Rina was looking over his shoulder at the sketch.
Normal morning at VV.
The next day, I had my own fitting.
Ellen had me come downstairs at eleven to try on the outfit she had made for me.
I hadn’t really spoken to her yet. She was twenty-five, with dark hair tied back and a measuring tape hanging around her neck. Black jeans, grey T-shirt, pins stuck into a magnetic band around one wrist.
She looked up when I came over.
Then immediately looked back down at the costume.
“Arms up.”
“Hello to you too.”
“Hi. Arms up.”
I obeyed.
Leah had been nice to me and picked Ryūko Matoi in her non-transformed outfit.
I wasn’t entirely convinced I could pull off the micro-bikini version.
Leah in transformed Satsuki, though?
I would very much like to see that.
For me, costume-wise, it was pretty simple. Cropped sailor top, skirt, suspenders, the red glove, sneakers, wig, and the giant scissor blade somebody else had to build.
I was handed a harness and told to put it on.
It fit over my shoulders and across my back, with two black magnets sitting between my shoulder blades.
“What is this for?”
“Blade harness. I’m told Rina is making your blade with help from Magnus. Magnus designed this part.”
She adjusted one of the straps.
“Don’t ask me how it all works in the end. I’m just making the outfit work around it.”
I shrugged, put it on properly, and followed more instructions while Ellen checked the fit of the top and suspenders against the designs on her iPad.
“You like this gig?”
Ellen shrugged and pushed another pin into the outfit.
“Pay’s good. Wish we had more time, but the boss is providing food, a good workspace, good materials, good tools. She knows what she’s doing.”
“Did this costume take long?”
“This one? Not really. Boss showed up with the pattern, all the fabric, all the parts. Pretty quick job.”
She adjusted something at my waist.
“She wanted to make it herself, actually. I told her I’m the seamstress on this production. If this is one of the costumes we’re showing off at the event, I want to make it.”
“Why?”
“Portfolio.”
She looked up at me.
“Would look pretty bad if I said I worked on the project and one of the costumes looked like shit.”
“You think Leah can’t make costumes?”
“I know VV from the scene. Her costumes are good. But this is a rush job, and I’m a professional. She’s a very good amateur.”
“You better not let Leah hear that.”
Ellen shrugged.
“She hired me for a reason. It wasn’t because she wanted someone who agrees with everything she says.”
“You think we’ll get everything done before the event?”
“Oh yeah. We’re in the polish phase now. If the event got pushed forward to tomorrow, we could still get everyone into a decent state.”
She fitted another pin into the outfit.
“But we want everyone in an excellent state.”
She gave me a once-over.
“Okay, I’ve got what I need. Let’s get this off you.”
I helped as best I could to get out of the outfit without catching myself on any pins. I think I succeeded, or at least Ellen didn’t give me any grief.
I started unhooking the harness, but Ellen stopped me.
“Leave that on. Crafting room next.”
I headed upstairs, trying to pull my T-shirt over the harness as I went.
The crafting-room door was closed. I knocked, opened it slightly, and found Rina and Magnus inside.
Magnus was assembling some of the pipework for Imani’s tank. Rina stood at one of the workbenches with a set of color charts spread out beside a huge black 3D-printed version of Ryūko’s Scissor Blade.
“Whoa.”
Rina smiled.
“Yeah. It’s real nice.”
I stepped closer.
“Can I hold it?”
“Sure. I wanted to test the harness before I painted it anyway. Make sure we don’t need to modify anything.”
I grabbed the handle and lifted it.
It had some heft, but it was very clearly not a solid metal sword. I tapped the side and could see faint lines where the different printed sections had been fitted together.
“Small aluminum tube through the center,” Rina said. “Everything else is hollow printed sections fitted around it. Total weight is 1.34 kilograms. Just under three pounds. Light enough for the harness, and it shouldn’t be annoying to carry around all night.”
“How does the harness work?”
Rina stood up, turned the blade over, and showed me two black magnets inset into the back of it. One near the handle, another a few inches below it.
“These line up with the mounts on your back. Try it.”
I lifted the blade over my head and reached behind me, trying to line the magnets up with the mount over my right shoulder.
I felt the first pull.
Clink.
The second magnet caught almost immediately after, and the blade shifted another fraction of an inch as the little ridge settled into place.
I let go.
It stayed there.
“The magnets are only a few inches apart because the whole mount has to hide under the top. They hold the blade against you.”
She pointed between them.
“This little ridge is what stops it twisting. Once that drops into the groove on the harness, the blade can’t really rotate.”
“So the magnets aren’t doing everything?”
“No. Magnets hold. Geometry keeps it where we put it. Should stay put all night. Probably even survive dancing.”
I twisted around, trying to see it.
The blade stuck out slightly past my left hip, while the handle rose over my right shoulder where I could reach it.
“Neat.”
“To take it off, twist the blade first. That breaks one magnet loose before the other instead of making you pull both straight off at once. Then lift.”
I tried it.
The magnets fought me a little, but not enough to cause any trouble.
Click.
One let go, then the other, and I lifted the sword away.
“Cool.”
“We had to do a slightly different setup for Leah because of Satsuki’s long hair, but her sword uses the same magnet system. Means you shouldn’t have to leave them with wardrobe once you get inside.”
“These swords hard to make?”
Rina rolled her eyes and let out a breath.
“Leah was right about one thing. My printer could handle most of this, but her Fuse saved our asses on time. We can print the gears for the fish-tank wheels without fucking around with supports, and these swords would be a lot more fragile if I’d done all the shells in PLA on my FDM printer. SLS nylon cares a hell of a lot less about print orientation.”
“So worth it?”
“No. It is not worth seventy grand.”
I laughed.
“I could have Brian make the swords for that kind of money. But she was right about the time.”
She tapped the blade.
“I can model something today, put it in the Fuse, and have usable parts tomorrow. Custom gears, weird brackets, sword sections, whatever we suddenly discover we need. I can’t call somebody at four in the afternoon and have custom fabrication delivered the next morning.”
“How long did this take?”
“That sword was a little over three hours in the Fuse. Hollow nylon shells around an aluminum tube. On my FDM printer, the same parts would’ve taken most of a day, plus supports and cleanup, and I’d have to make half of it thicker just so I trusted it.”
She sighed.
“So no. Still not seventy-grand worth it.”
She looked toward Magnus.
“But I’m getting annoyingly close to understanding why she bought it.”
I put a hand on Rina’s shoulder.
“I know how you feel. It’s really annoying when she tells you something you disagree with, then you realize she was right all along.”
I left the room with Rina still smiling at my joke.
My costume was gonna rock.
I was actually going to have the Scissor Blade.
My life was rad.
It was the day before.
I had just wrapped up my final interview with one of the companies I’d applied to, and I felt like it had gone well.
I was playing Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator on stream and chatting with the normal group of nerds who had started showing up.
I now had a whopping five followers.
Six if I counted Mark, who had not returned after our conversation.
Usually ten or fifteen people would pass through a stream at some point. A few would stick around, some would show up again later, and about a third of my live views eventually turned into VOD views.
Which was weirdly encouraging.
People kept coming back.
A couple had even messaged me afterward to say they liked my style or that I was fun to watch.
I was halfway through a conversation in Dream Daddy when the door opened and Leah walked in.
Leah was wearing jeans and a stained black long-sleeved T-shirt, her hair tied up behind her head.
She stopped beside my chair, leaned down, and kissed the top of my head.
“Dinner is ready when you wrap up here.”
“Okay.”
She disappeared again.
I went back to the game.
mossybyte:
Awww, that your girlfriend?
“Yeah. And now I am going to stop dating dads and go have dinner with my girlfriend.”
mossybyte:
Dream Daddy defeated by Actual Girlfriend.
Pixelwitch:
Terrible bisexual representation.
“She provides dinner. I contain multitudes.”
I ended the stream and went downstairs.
Rina and Leah were talking near the kitchen, while a bunch of the talent tested out their costumes.
Still no makeup, but Imani’s fish tank was rolling around under its own power.
Priya looked even stranger.
Gears covered most of her costume. Some turned constantly, while others were linked to her movements. When she bent an elbow, gears around the joint rolled with it. Same with her shoulders and knees.
A big metal housing covered most of her torso, shaped like some kind of furnace. Orange and red LEDs flickered behind a grate in the middle, making it look like there was actually a fire burning inside her.
She moved her arm.
Half the machinery across her shoulder turned with it.
Holy shit.
She really did look steam-powered.
I sat down beside Leah.
“We ready for tomorrow?”
Leah tilted her head from side to side.
“Everyone has a finished costume. I’d still love another few days to polish.”
Rina cut in.
“Leah is stressing. We’re basically done. Everything will be at a hundred percent by tomorrow afternoon.”
She nodded toward the room.
“We overdelivered on a few of them, hit target on the rest, and somehow still managed to do both of your costumes on top of that.”
Elias came over and sat beside Rina.
“Overdelivered is an understatement. The costume quality is amazing, and the details are way beyond what I expected when we started. If the company that hired us isn’t impressed by this, they don’t know what they’re doing.”
“Don’t jinx it!”
Rina punched Elias in the shoulder.
I looked over at Leah. She was smiling as she took another bite of her food.
Celeste had made chicken cacciatore with polenta, roasted vegetables, salad, and fresh focaccia.
I was beginning to understand why Leah wanted to keep her.
“Is this our last dinner from Celeste?” I asked.
“We have her for breakfast tomorrow, and we’re aiming for a big linner for the team before we head out.”
“Linner?”
“Lunch and dinner,” Rina replied before Leah could.
“Late lunch. Heavier than a normal lunch,” Leah continued. “They’ll be working most of the evening. They need a solid meal before they go.”
“I wonder how good the other sixteen will be,” Elias said.
“There are sixteen other servant monsters?” I asked.
Leah nodded.
“The original casting call was for twenty-four. I pitched Elias and Rina, but they ended up short on performers and came back asking if I could provide another six.”
“So eight of the twenty-four are ours?”
“Assuming they filled the rest, yes. I don’t know if the other companies got the same request or if production decided to reduce the number. All I know is that all eight of our designs were approved, so there shouldn’t be any duplicate costumes.”
“What if they look completely different from you guys? Won’t that look weird?”
“Unlikely. The pitch requirements were detailed, and the color palette was very strict. We should all look like part of the same production.”
She took another bite.
“I still haven’t been given individual roles for everyone. I’m hoping we get those before we arrive, but we may not know until we’re on site.”
“We’re ready for whatever they give us. Greeter, waiter, bouncer,” Elias said. “Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m blaming you if you jinx this. Stop being so positive,” Rina said.
Dinner pretty much continued like that.
Leah explained everything she was worried about. Rina tried to balance each worry against everything that had gone right.
Elias dismissed all of them and proclaimed the entire project excellent.
I left them to continue working and went back upstairs to stream some more.
When I booted Dream Daddy back up, I saw mossybyte join the chat.
mossybyte:
I thought you were done for the day?
“Nah, girlfriend has to work on Halloween costumes for tomorrow.”
mossybyte:
You going to a party, or hosting?
“Going. It’s a big party. All Leah’s deal, but I got a +1, so I’m gonna enjoy myself.”
mossybyte:
Leah is your girlfriend?
“Yeah, that’s her name.”
mossybyte:
Cute name.
“You got Halloween plans?”
mossybyte:
Yeah, heading to a party with my friend.
“You have friends, mossybyte? I thought I was your only one.”
mossybyte:
Fuck you, PocketKatastrophe. Now pick Craig. He is obviously the best dad.
“Nah, Damien is the hottest, and I deserve the hotness.”