Just to be Clear, the Narrator is a Human

Here's an absurd little piece I made for an assignment.  Please don't hesitate to voice all comments and criticisms you may have.  And in case you asked, progress is going, but slow on Into the Crust.  It'll be here eventually :)

I left my makeshift shelter amongst the rocks and walked through the tall grass on the west of the block. I reached the spotted gum, the smell of mint wafting in from the garden. I thumped lightly on the ground.

Luckily for me, the ant queen enjoyed music. She wouldn’t talk to me directly but sent a worker out.

‘Sure, we have a battalion we could exchange for the iPod,’ she said.

Hopefully I would have succeeded long before the battery ran out.

‘Hide!’ the worker ant yelled. I dived under the shadow of the tree. Above our heads, Bluey the budgerigar circled, watching for intruders. He would alert the cats in the house if he saw me, so the reconnaissance mission would have to happen that night.

***

When the sun fell, the battalion and I sneaked to the laundry door. The smell was terrible.

‘All the kitty litter must be in there,’ I whispered, feeling smug that they still couldn’t change their trays. Thank God for opposable thumbs.

A noise like kudump kudump alerted me to the arrival of Bowser, the golden retriever who had offered to help.

‘No other humans in miles, sorry boss.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ we all said.

‘What are you doing here?’ Bowser said in his pretend hush.

‘The battalion are going to assess the state of the laundry and hopefully open the doggy door.’

‘Boss,’ said Bowser, ‘there’s a sad cat in there. I can smell him.’

Interesting, I thought.

‘With enough of you,’ I said to the ants, ‘could you carry a cat?’

‘Yes, commander!’ they said eagerly.

***

When the ants had returned, Tabs, the laundry cat, pleaded with me. Mr Bubbles, the ringleader of the revolution, had enforced a strict dictatorship.

‘He sits at the couch lapping milk and watching Indiana Jones marathons while we starve,’ said the laundry cat. ‘I just want things the way they were.’

‘Here’s the plan,’ I told him, ‘I can feed you what little I have out here if you be our inside man, um, feline. And when you get the chance, splash some water on Mr Bubbles. That should distract him long enough for me to get inside and end this nightmare.’

I may have had to sleep outside for yet another night, but I was one step closer to recapturing the house.

Enslaved Review

Okay, so I've never written a review before but I had enough to say about Enslaved that I thought I should. Keep in mind that I wasn't planning to review it at the time, so this is more retrospective than in-depth. Thanks also to the reviewers at Gamespot, IGN, Joystiq and Kotaku from whose styles I am trying to learn.

For the score, I will give each section a rating between -5 and +5, where 0 is unremarkable, -5 is terrible and +5 approaches perfection.

Enslaved

To give the game its full title, Enslaved: Odyssey to the West is a single player tactical-action-adventure game from Ninja Theory, the developers of Heavenly Sword and Kung Fu Chaos.

Story

Enslaved is set in a future where humans are all but an endangered species. Deserted cities are being reclaimed by nature and abandoned mechs from a forgotten war litter the countryside. The plot concerns Trip, played by Lindsey Shaw, a tech-savvy girl taken away from her isolated home by slavers, and Monkey, a rough, lone survivor played by Lord of the Rings' Andy Serkis. Monkey's survival skills come in handy when Trip sabotages the ship that is transporting them cross country.

During his attempt to escape with Trip, Monkey is knocked out. Trip re-purposes a slaver's headband and attaches it to Monkey, who is now forced to do everything Trip says lest she cause him immense pain. If Trip were to be killed, Monkey would die as well. Trip then orders Monkey to take her home, over 300 miles away. So begins a tale fitting for a grand road-movie adventure in the tradition of Children of Men or Half Life 2 and its episodes.

Much has been made of the way that Enslaved approaches its story. The actual screenplay is fairly unoriginal – it borrows from the ancient Chinese novel “Journey to the West”, and the dialogue includes cinematic clichés (not necessarily bad). The way it is told, on the other hand, is outstanding.

The actors' portrayal of the characters (and for most of it there are only two, with a third later on) carry the story by their entire performance, not just dialogue. Eyes wander, lips quiver and arms shake to contribute to a multi-layered depiction of emotions. Because of this, the actual verbal exchanges in cut scenes are fairly limited. To someone who plays games often, it may at first seem anaemic, but compared to the bloated writing of otherwise great games such as the Metal Gear Solid series it is refreshing.

The lean storytelling contributes to the indie sci-fi feel of the game. This is not a world-saving mega epic, but a character study that happens to take place in a great speculative setting. It shows how well the characters were realised that when the – admittedly abrupt – ending came along I wanted to know what happened next.

As for how the story works in the video game medium, things are a little more mixed. Comparison to the Uncharted series is inevitable given its success in the action-adventure genre, and perhaps if Enslaved had been released before Among Thieves some of what it does would seem more revolutionary. The bulk of the narrative is told through cutscenes only, which is fine when the gameplay is cinematic enough, but often during Enslaved the game will hand you the controls back as if to say, “pause the movie, get past these enemies.” This isn't to say that Uncharted didn't have these moments, or that Enslaved doesn't have exciting in-game set pieces. The issue is that the “gamier” elements on display can counteract Enslaved's cinematic aspirations.

A Brief Digression

To make things clear, I do not hold it for or against a game if it tries to use the language of film as a way to tell a story. When I use the word “cinematic”, I am speaking positively of a game which uses that language.

This is not the only way to present a game though, and a game which doesn't attempt to be “cinematic” is not automatically less engaging than one that does. Enough of that for now, I'll leave this topic for a later article.

Gameplay

To compare Enslaved to the Uncharted series is not entirely unfounded. Both games feature vibrant environments, cinematic cutscenes and a propensity to break up the action with mostly linear but attractive platforming sections. Unfortunately, direct comparison is unfair to Enslaved, which doesn't have the polish of a first party title but has an interesting variety that lets it stand on its own.

The action mechanics of Enslaved have perhaps more in common with Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. The fighting is mostly button mashing with a few tricks to keep in mind when attacking certain enemies, and the bulk of Enslaved will be spent with an AI partner whose banter with the main character sets up an interesting relationship. However, where Farah was a strong woman who helped the Prince fight, Trip is more likely to cower in a corner. This is where the tactical elements come into play – Monkey can communicate with Trip to tell her to set up distractions and operate switches from hiding while he takes out the mechanical enemies. Some portions early in the game will require Monkey to pick Trip up, such as a memorable sequence where a boss chases the duo through the city ruins. Other sections will have the player commandeering turrets, firing Monkey's plasma staff at waves of mechs or moving machinery around to solve puzzles. There are also a few fun levels where Monkey can zoom around on his hover-board-like Cloud, though the difficulty of these is increased on occasion with timed objectives.

The aforementioned platforming sections are not very challenging until late in the game. There is generally only one way to go and the next handhold will have a shimmer in case you can't see it. Monkey obediently snaps into place after you press “jump” and the right direction. They are nice to look at and not boring, though they did make me wish for a time not too long ago when completing such a traversal was more complex and rewarding (see the Jak and Daxter series, the Ratchet and Clank series or the 3D Zelda games).

Enslaved is very linear except for some items that require focused hunting to find. It is also quite short, but its length is still commendable for these days: it took me about 12 hours to complete Enslaved on Normal difficulty and I'm sure a more experienced player could complete it faster.

Visuals

The art design of Enslaved is fantastic. From the overgrown ruins of New York to an abandoned mech factory in the wasteland, the game is always giving you something new to look at. Enslaved avoids the “real is brown and bloom” trend from yesteryear, instead opting to include many shades of green. Though the ancient-technology-surrounded-by-foliage look is far from original, the game does enough to distinguish itself almost by excess alone. Enslaved uses the Unreal Engine 3, presenting complex geometry and incredibly detailed textures that seek to pull you into the world.

Additionally, the animation is top notch. The motion capture experience that Serkis brought over from playing Gollum shows in his direction, all three central characters often saying more with body language than with their voice. The facial expressions are probably the most realistic I have ever seen in a game.

Enslaved as a program is not always apt at displaying these wondrous sights. Texture pop-in adds a plastic look to the beginning of some scenes. The frame rate isn't smooth, but by no means unbearable, and the audio can get out of sync with the animation. At times it seems like the game's excellent look is too ambitious for its performance.

Sound

The voice acting in Enslaved is very good. Considering the motion capture process used, it is hard to separate the actors' voices from their performance as a whole during cutscenes. The points in the game where the player is in control but Monkey and Trip are verbally sparring are well voiced.

Enslaved's original soundtrack is subtle and evocative to reinforce both the strange future in which the game is set and the lean but remarkable story. When it is found in gameplay sequences it moodily hums along in the background. During story sequences, mournful and striking strings complement computerised, electronic tones and driving percussion. There are also several repeating motifs such as a solemn melody, first heard on the main menu, and a more light-hearted theme for the connection that grows between Monkey and Trip. The presence of a wordless female singer in a few tracks links into the song that plays during the end credits.

Enslaved's environmental sound is also very good but inconsistent. A few times while I was playing, a scripted event (such as an explosion) would be set to silence. Otherwise, when it is working, the sound does its job and helps to increase the immersion into this beautiful post-apocalyptic world.

Satisfaction

The Odyssey to the West is not free of problems but is worth taking, thanks to the engaging world and the pioneering story. It is easy to lose oneself in Enslaved, and the “small” narrative with well rounded characters is a great reason to push to the end. I actually found myself thinking of Half Life 2, Beyond Good and Evil and Jak II whilst playing – it should be no small feat for a game to remind me of such a great list. The problem with comparison is that much of the “game” part of Enslaved has been done better elsewhere. I sincerely hope Enslaved can get a sequel to continue its brand of storytelling and improve on those parts that are playable.

Scores

Story: Despite an ending that seems typical of the speculative fiction genre, Enslaved's story is well told and a step in the right direction for cinematic storytelling in games. +3.5

Gameplay: The robot-bashing action of Enslaved may be uncomplicated for action game aficionados but it doesn't get stale over the course of the adventure. The environment traversal is also good example among modern action-adventures, but the real fun is to be had with the variety that the game throws at you. +2.5

Visuals: Enslaved has a stunning design that is marred by technical hiccups that break the immersion. +2

Sound: With a musical score that sits apart from traditional heroic adventure and soundscapes that draw you in, Enslaved's audio is well applied when it works. +3

Overall: Enslaved cannot compete with super-budget first party titles for its polish, but for what it means to the game industry, as well as it being just plain fun to discover, the game is very successful. +3

Into the Crust Episode 1x01

Welcome to a brand new series.  This time, instead of posting a chapter every week, there will be a large episode for each instalment.  However, this means that episodes may not happen on a weekly basis.

At the top will be a table of contents with links to each scene for easier reading (update: thanks to my awful HTML skills, the links in the table of contents aren't currently working but should be up eventually):

Scenes:

Viridian

Meet the Book Keeper

Brother Lost

Enigmas United

To Leave the City

Climbing the Chains

Alliance

Viridian

Something had gone wrong with the memory upload process and the subject rose from the table like the living dead. The machines above the subject could only look on with confusion and fear as it ripped through the restraints and bounded for the window.

The subject called herself Viridian, and that was the sum total of what she knew. The artificial memories were still rearranging themselves as she leapt through the window, a bad move as she soon realised, though for the wrong reason. The glass was no effort to smash through, for her wide frame was that of a mechanical skeleton twice as tall as a human, but on the other side was the empty space under the sky-island of her captors.

During her lengthy free fall the implanted data made its way to the forefront of her mind. This body-vehicle of hers, like an agile, long-legged tortoise, was designed for humans to use in exploration and excavation. Viridian was unsure if she too was human, but the description seemed adequate while she couldn't prove anything. The air continued to rush past her – these were all electronic signals that gave the complete sensory package to the mechanical skeleton's user. Technology like this originated in a place called the Free City, so named because it occupied a large island that was detached and free to travel.

Oh yes, the data seemed to finish assessing her knowledge, the world was comprised of chunks of land that floated in the sky, most of which were connected by gigantic and very old chains. Viridian looked beneath her to see one of these chunks rising to meet her.

Out of instinct she pointed her legs downwards. Fire blasted from the feet of the vehicle, no, from her feet, she thought. The impact was still heavy, making a decent impression on the ground and momentarily disorienting her, but again instinct took control and Viridian stood up to look where she had come from.

The Free City's crust blocked the sun from above her. Small lights were growing larger, an indicator in her vision saying that they were possible hostile forces, and a slider on the top of her metal “body” retracted to allow a gas-cannon through. The dark weapon automatically blasted the floating lights into a million pieces and a blaring horn sounded in the sky before the Free City slowly moved away like a blimp changing course.

On the surface of the island, the citizens had no knowledge of what had transpired below. Besides, there was trading to be done to the north, so it was time to move on.

Meet the Book Keeper

Farther to the west, Irfan Red was approaching the police station in Cumulus, a city whose defence field was unrivalled across the world. The rationale the government had for the defence field varied but they tended to give the impression that they were hiding from what was outside.

Irfan was perennially concerned that one day Cumulus's population would become an oppressed mass under a totalitarian regime, unfortunately there was not much he could do about it. On the upside, actual liberty had not this far been infringed upon (relatively speaking, since the control of information and freedom is a spectrum), and Irfan was optimistic of City Web Service's move into managing most of the city's day-to-day activity. Irfan was already a librarian when he inherited an old book shop, and now he sold big books, small books, illustrated, virtual and semi-virtual. He had come to be known as the book keeper, these days living off the unsteady income of high interest collectors, for whom he'd part with the rarer tomes. His own reserved nature and the slow, introverted work of the shop had kept him clean and mostly unnoticed by the strict authorities.

His younger brother Idris was the complete opposite. The reason that Irfan was now entering the police station was the latest in a string of arrests. A familiar face greeted the book keeper's arrival.

'Hey there Mr Red. Come to pick up your brother again.' There was no question in Sergeant Rools's voice.

'Afraid so. What has he done this time?'

'That's classified,' the sergeant said. 'I'd tell you if they told me anyway.'

The two of them slipped into routine, Rools unlocked the hall to the cells and Irfan trudged towards what was definitely his brother's cell, he'd been put in it so many times.

Idris was sitting in the middle of the small space with his legs crossed, long brown hair draped on his shoulders. He didn't even open his eyes.

'What is it?' the book keeper said.

'Parking ticket, Irfan.'

Even Rools felt the emotion behind such a blatant lie. What the sergeant didn't know was that Idris never called his brother by his real name unless there were so many details that a lie made it easier to cope with. Irfan's handle on this mental tick had made the occasional poker match a breeze but the book keeper wondered if Idris knew it himself.

The bars slid back and Idris stood up.

'Sergeant,' he said, 'I hope you let your superiors know that I am disappointed in being held for so trivial an offence. However, I understand that they must be vigilant against terrorists who could have been in my situation.'

'Don't worry, Mr Red,' Rools said. 'As long as you don't do it again, whatever you really did.'

Brother Lost

Almost a month later, Irfan was marking off his calendar before closing up shop. He noticed that it was the longest yet between calls from his brother and felt guilty that he had no idea what his brother had been doing since the last. Irfan placed two fingers on his webdesk and wound them clockwise to get the ailing machine's attention. The surface lit up in a calm blue colour.

'Contact details for Idris Red.'

The surname Red wasn't entirely uncommon but the desk needed only to display one contact. The book keeper dialled the number for voice chat and wandered over to his favourite scene, the window at the back of the shop.

Ring ring. Through the window, Irfan's shop had one of the best views in the city. Beyond the various vertical levels and elevated paths you could glimpse the edge of the island. The sun had begun to make its way under the rocky cliff edge, shining delectable reds and oranges through the defence field. On the other side were floating helium creatures and moss colonies. Special species of birds made their homes in those bottomless forests, from where they swooped out to hunt on land. Soon they would be joined by the bats, whose caves at the very bottom of the island gave Irfan the shivers, hanging out over the empty space.

Ring ring. The call was picked up by a dejected sounding woman.

'Hullo?'

'Is this where I can speak to Idris Red?' the book keeper said, still looking out at the sunset.

'I'm afraid he's... disappeared,' the woman said. 'May I ask who I am speaking to?'

Irfan finally said, 'I'm the bookworm brother.'

'Oh. I think you might want to come in, Irfan. You can call me Tricia, we should talk about this in person.'

Tricia hung up quickly. Irfan couldn't object.

Enigmas United

The building that Idris's web profile led to was a commercial block on the bottom level of Cumulus. Specifically, the room of the address was towards the back and down a flight of stairs. With the upper levels looming right over their heads, landlords on the bottom of the city had long since begun digging into the crust of their island in the air.

A door no different from those at the front of the hall was covered in sheets of paper – the topmost layer declaring Problem Solvers, and jutting out underneath was the word United. Out of curiosity, the book keeper lifted up the first layer. The United poster had a large symbol on it, one that he did not know the meaning of but had seen around the city in alleys where public service rarely tread. It was a stylised fist, superimposed over which was a red circle with a line through it.

'United,' he thought aloud. Suddenly the door was wrenched open by a dark haired woman whose complexion told Irfan that she was from another land, from before the city had withdrawn behind the defence field.

'Can I help you – by the clouds, you're just like him!'

'Wrong,' he said. 'I have lighter hair. Tricia I presume?'

'Yes. Come in.'

The book keeper followed her into the foyer. The place was organised as any other business in these parts, with a secretary's webdesk and web portals attached to the chairs that lined the front corners.

'What do you and my brother do here?'

Tricia looked up and down the corridor before carefully closing the door.

'What we do is immaterial,' she said. 'Take a seat. You must understand that your brother was a very important part of the team.'

Irfan sat in the corner. 'I obviously don't understand anything. How long has he been working here?'

'We aren't able to divulge that sort of information,' Tricia said.

'I think I deserve some context before you explain to me what in the sky is going on.'

'Then let me finish!' Tricia's eyes were ragged. 'I'm sorry, but this is a bad time for anybody to screw up, least of all me.' She sat in the chair next to his. 'You are going to have to take it on good faith that I'm not trying to deceive you.'

'Perfect. I guess this means you want something from me?'

'Idris has to be in trouble if he is missing at this point.'

'What can I possibly do to help?' the book keeper said.

Tricia glanced away from him.

'You are his family, so you have to know his codename.'

A birthright codename was something that everyone in the city possessed – a password that a citizen would use to access any and all electronic services in Cumulus. Someone who knew your codename could effectively locate and control you, so you only ever gave it to those you trusted.

'Are you so sure he is still in the city?'

'No,' Tricia said. 'But if you don't find him, at least we will know for certain that he's gone.'

Now it was Irfan's turn to look away. 'Idris wouldn't let anything stop him if he's trying to leave the city. If I even had an idea...'

Something in Tricia broke the surface of her secrecy.

'His contract was to an arm of City Web Service, that's why we need you to go to Missing Persons. I can't tell you any more than that for client confidentiality. If you were to prove that your brother isn't within the field, they'd be obliged to help you find out where he's gone.'

Irfan stood up. 'This doesn't make any sense. Surely CWS would have been the first to notice him go missing.'

Tricia's face was blank. 'I'm asking you to find out where he is. I can't tell you any of the dozen reasons why we think he's gone, he's just gone.'

'Whatever operation you people are running here, it isn't worth my time.' The book keeper stormed to the door. 'I am going to find Idris, and he will tell me what's going on.'

To Leave the City

The following morning, the book keeper found himself at the base of the huge dome that occupied the centre of the city. CWS was an independent contractor, whose technology permeated the city to the extent that they outmatched the government as the power in Cumulus. The main entrance towered over Web Park with a clean marble and chrome aesthetic, only slightly marred by the banners that proudly proclaimed the Hope Legion's involvement in funding CWS. Inside was a bright and airy space that contrasted sharply with the cramped alleys of the city around it. The book keeper made a beeline for the main desk, which was also draped in Hope Legion symbols like the fountain pen and the brain.

'Hello, I am –'

'Ah, my friend!' came a voice from behind him. A young man with a goatee and ponytail grabbed the book keeper with forceful amiability and steered him away from the clerk.

'Am I right in understanding you are Irfan Red?' whispered the man.

'Yes but I don't –'

'Play along until we get to the elevator,' the man said.

He continued to steer Irfan until they reached the far left hand wall.

'Put your index and middle fingers to the right of the elevator buttons,' said the man.

The book keeper's fingers were suddenly the epicentres for blue patterns erupting in-between the buttons and the elevator. The elevator doors opened.

'Okay, this is a special order transport,' the man said as they walked in. 'Now we can speak freely.'

The elevator moved off downwards.

'Who are you? Why did you do this?'

'I am an associate of your brother's.' The man took a black rectangle from his pocket. 'I assume he told you what this is?'

'No!' Irfan said. 'Where are you taking me?'

'To leave the city of course. Don't you want to follow your brother?'

'I came here to search for him. Are you telling me he's gone?'

'Yes, that's why we need you.' The man remained calm, pushing the black rectangle into the book keeper's hands. 'Your brother was in the middle of a very important project before he left, and we can't track him accurately from behind the defence field.'

'I suppose you contacted Tricia about this.'

'Who is Tricia?'

'Oh, ah,' the book keeper stuttered, 'I don't actually know. I guess she isn't important.'

The elevator slowed to a stop and the man grabbed Irfan's shoulder.

'Let's keep moving. If you really don't know, it may take longer for you to understand the concept.'

The man with the ponytail lead the book keeper down a straight hallway, then turned left into a much larger hallway with a glass barrier at the end. Filling the width of it were two grey metal constructions. On the floor underneath were stepladders.

'These are mechanical exoskeletons,' said the man. 'We call them meskal for short.'

Irfan, having no knowledge of the beverage that shared its name with these machines, was simply befuddled.

You'll be using that mark 4.' The man pointed to the one on the left.

'What are you talking about?'

'They're exploratory vehicles!' the man said. 'Since going beyond the field unprotected will get you contaminated, you bring a bit of the field with you! Climb into it quickly. The longer we hang here, the less time your brother has.'

'And he took one of these things out there too?'

'Yes, now get a move on! The meskal has computer equipment on board that will help you track Idris.'

The book keeper walked towards the hulking synthetic beast. The stepladder gave him enough height to see what was on the inside of the main carapace, but before he had taken it in, vacuum cables and bands had snapped at his arms and legs.

'Help!' he said as the meskal dragged him stiffly into its belly.

'Forgot to tell you the mark 4's a bit huggy!' said the ponytail man. Irfan tried to shout out again but the base of the machine had closed with a shup and all around him was darkness. Pinprick pains on almost every part of his body kept him from moving.

A moment later though, the world lit up again.

'What is this?'

The ponytail man's meskal had walked in front of him.

'Don't worry if you feel a bit groggy, it can take a few minutes to adjust.' The voice came straight from the front of the machine like a web speaker, which was slightly creepy when you realised a human was talking. 'Race you to the end?'

'The end of what? It's a solid wall!'

Irfan tried to move. He too was on all fours. The meskal it seemed was feeding sensor data directly to his body. For the moment he would be the machine.

'Do as I do,' the ponytail man said. 'The intersection has not yet begun.'

'What?' Irfan shouted as the ponytail man ran to the far end.

'I said, “do as I do, it's not that difficult”!' he repeated.

'I'll try,' he said. The book keeper ran at full pelt, faster than he could run regularly, down the long hallway.

'Still looks pretty solid to me!'

The meskal ahead of him vanished. Irfan tried without luck to slow down, and then he tried to orient himself falling in empty space, but the meskal smacked into the earth before he could straighten all four legs.

When it became apparent that he had not died, Irfan stood up. He was in a huge empty cave, deep beneath the surface and the city. Light shone in through the gaping mouth that looked out onto clear blue sky.

'Sort of a training ground,' he heard the voice of ponytail man say. 'You can get onto the chains from here, too.'

To either side Irfan could see other meskal pilots lumbering around.

'The defence field stops at the end of the corridor we just left,' ponytail man continued. 'From here on, it's stay in your mech or you don't go home.'

'What do you expect me to do with this thing?'

'That's the easy part. Use your brother's codename and bring him back safely.'

'And the hard part?'

'To follow Idris you need to go out into the wide world. The hard part's climbing the chains.'

Climbing the Chains

At the edge of the training cave there was an empty drop to scare the book keeper witless with nothing but air and clouds beneath him.

'You're going to have to upload your brother's codename using the neural link,' said the man with the ponytail. 'From here on, you're on your own.'

'If you aren't coming with me, how will I know what to do?' The meskal shivered in sync with Irfan's vertigo.

'He can't have gotten far,' said the man. 'Use your instincts, the mech should do the rest.'

Without warning bits of information exploded into Irfan's vision.

'I've adjusted your virtual vision,' the man said. The book keeper looked at the other meskal and a blue signal appeared, reading “Friendly”. He thought of his brother's codename and notifications popped up, pointing to his right. In the top corner of his sight was a small map that showed a moving dot to the east.

The man with the ponytail pointed behind Irfan. The monolithic chain that spread out from Cumulus, one of several on the island, would take him south east and closer to Idris. In the distance the book keeper saw the next island, an upside down triangle in the air and one of many in the region.

He walked to where the metallic link broke out from the rock beneath him. Each section was several times the size of the mech and still smooth after many centuries. At the bottom of the virtual display was a prompt: Operate Grip. Standing on the chain itself, he lifted his front left leg over the air and three tendrils automatically latched to the link.

'This could be really dangerous!' he said.

'Just remember to follow your map.'

Right, the map, Irfan thought. He moved his right front leg closer, which also stretched out tendrils to grip the link. You would think they could track their own technology, even without Idris's codename.

Continuing to quiver, the book keeper finally got all of his legs onto the chain whilst trying not to look down.

Just keep moving along. Before you know it you will be on solid ground.

Beneath his subconscious a very human element was saying, but there's no solid ground. There'll always be air beneath your feet.

When he felt like he had taken maybe another half-dozen steps, Irfan turned his head back along the chain. Already he was far from the city, a chunky brown blob with a barely visible bulge representing the defence field. The man with the ponytail had mentioned contamination, something that Irfan had never considered. He wondered how he would eat out here if CWS weren't going to let him back in after exposure. Irfan continued down the chain to the rocky face ahead where the grip function of the meskal assisted his ascent.

On the surface was a thick and undulating woodland, with shrubbery that grew over the edge of the island. The book keeper had only ever seen pictures of country like this – there was not much in the way of large animal but in the canopy birds flitted about, chatting with each other. Occasionally his large frame would brush too close to a tree causing a cacophony of branch crashes. Even so, for no other choice he continued through the forest.

Eventually the map in the corner of his vision spontaneously shifted to his own position, highlighting a set of contours nearby. Along with the new direction it indicated, an overlay told him that the exoskeleton needed coolant. The highlighted location was a small, clear pool. Irfan approached it, unsure of what to do next when his meskal's head dipped to the surface and gave him the sensation of drinking. The machine presumably fed some to his human body as well.

'Hostile activity!' the meskal's security declared. Out of a bush walked a young boy.

'Who're you than?' the boy said nonchalantly as he stooped to fill a bucket of water.

'Terminate hostiles!' the meskal continued. Irfan could feel the top of his mechanical body open as the gas-cannon emerged to target the frightened boy.

'Move!' the book keeper yelled. Something knocked into him and destabilised the cannon which fired upwards through the treetops. Irfan's visual feed went dark and his legs were tied together.

Alliance

After being dragged over rock and bramble, luckily not painful to the metal skin of the mech, Irfan felt himself being sat upright. His apparent captor no longer holding him, he tried in vain to struggle against the bindings. The map was still visible in the corner of his sight but all else was black until the obstruction was pulled from his head. The figure in front of him was that of another meskal with green-blue splashes on its carapace.

'What were you doing?' a female voice said from its speaker. In front of her the electronic overlay said “Friendly – Unknown Agent”.

'The machine was about to fire on...'

'Quiet!' his captor said. 'It was a rhetorical question.'

The other mech went behind him and there was a sensation not unlike a large static shock.

'There,' the woman voice said. The head came back into view. 'Without a cannon you won't be quite as dangerous.'

'Who are you?' Irfan said. He looked around at where he was, a hollow in the rock of some hill – not quite a cave but out of the sun.

'My name is probably Viridian,' said the woman.

'Thanks for stopping me from hurting that kid.'

'Hurt?' Viridian grunted. 'That thing on your back would have damn near obliterated him.'

'Wait, what do you mean probably Viridian?' She began to make disapproving noises while he spoke. 'And why would I consider that boy a hostile? What is going on out here?'

Viridian slapped him with a front leg, somehow sending pain into the book keeper's nerves.

'Questions that can be answered later. Right now you need to tell me where you come from, how you got this mech and whether you know about the Hope Legion.'

He told her his name and the story of how he had come to be here.

'As for the Hope Legion,' Irfan continued, 'aren't they an independent interest group from decades ago?'

'I don't know. They mean nothing to me, and yet...' she trailed off.

'I just want to continue east, find my brother and get home.'

'Good luck making it past the other side,' said Viridian. She went to the entrance of the hollow.

'What's on the other side?' the book keeper tried to stand up and found his legs still tied.

Viridian's voice sounded like she had cracked open a smile.

'Wow. You're even worse than me.' She extended one leg to untie the bonds on his. When he moved to stand up, she awkwardly straddled him.

'Tell you what, Irfan,' she said. 'I suspect your brother knows more than either of us or he wouldn't be out here. Let's make a deal – you need to find him, and I need to find out if I'm human under this shell or just some stupid experiment.'

'That would be the “probably” part?' he said.

'Be careful, be really careful and consider whether you want me to explain.' After several seconds of silence, Viridian got back on all fours and walked into the sunlight.

'Are you coming?'

End of Episode 1.

Episode 2 Teaser: the continued journey of Viridian and the book keeper into the east, with sky nomads and a secret quarry.