could do this. Adapting an existing game to VR has to be easier than building an entire game. They have all the assets in place, the story…we could do this.”
“We could do this,” his friends confirmed in unison.
“Okay, it’s past midnight. Let’s all go to bed and if it still sounds like a good idea in the morning, we’ll buy it.”
A growl behind them interrupted their plans.
“Goddammit, Jacob,” Amber said, “this is why you don’t have long conversations in orc-infested territory. All right, everyone. Let’s murder some orcs.”
“No!” Nick pounded on his desk. “We talk to them—”
A fireball streaked toward them.
“I think talking time is over, buddy,” Jacob told him. “For the forest! For the villagers! For glory!”
Chapter One
Nick’s smoothie, which had seemed like a good idea when he ordered the box of mixes delivered to his house, had now begun to separate into two distinct and equally unappealing sections at the bottom of his Nalgene bottle. For some reason, he couldn’t stop watching it.
With a sigh, Amber picked it up and lobbed it at the sink. It missed and bounced off the floor on the other side of the counter. After she’d stared at it for a moment, she shrugged as if to say, “Good enough”, and looked at him.
“Can we focus now?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He slouched in his chair. “Will you keep saying depressing things?”
“If by ‘depressing things’ you mean the numbers in our financial reports, then yes.” She gave him a smile that showed her teeth. “Let me put it this way, Mr. Ryan. Neither of us will leave this office until we have a plan in place.”
“That’s not fair,” Nick complained. “Jacob doesn’t have to be here. Why do I?” He picked at his sleeve. “Lucky bastard, having his grandmother in the ICU.”
Amber’s kick, when it came, was direct and to a particularly sensitive part of his shin. She jabbed a finger at him. “You never say things like that,” she told him severely.
He nodded, chastened. Put her in front of a problem and she would do whatever it took to solve it. It was one of the things that made her an incredible engineer—and one of the reasons he hoped she would never decide to take up politics. Or a military career.
Nick shuddered. The thought of Amber in charge of high-grade explosives was terrifying.
But as utilitarian and cold-eyed as she could be about problem-solving, she had no tolerance for black humor. Make a joke she thought was tempting fate or mocking someone’s pain, and she’d let you know about it immediately.
You knew you’d really messed up when she devolved into Spanish. Once, he and Jacob had secretly recorded one of her rants and translated it later—a lengthy process due to the fact that popular translation dictionaries didn’t have quite as varied a vocabulary as their friend. The results had convinced them both to never get on her bad side.
Now, Nick cleared his throat, leaned forward on the table, and paused briefly when the rusted metal legs creaked. They’d retired to the kitchenette part of the offices for a working lunch, which hadn’t exactly worked out. Amber had forgotten to order food and his food…
Well, whatever that was, you couldn’t call it food. His stomach rumbled and he grimaced.
“It’s not so bad,” he said after he’d stared at the numbers for a few more minutes. “I mean…it’s not much worse than last quarter.”
Her sigh was less angry than despairing. “But it is worse,” she said. She sat with her head tipped back and stared at the ceiling. “We made a thing that…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed again.
Nick cleared his throat awkwardly. The numbers hadn’t been great for a while now, but he hadn’t realized she was this worried about it. He’d watched things work out for them, over and over, from the early technological hurdles to the Hail Mary presentations they’d given time and again to investors.
Something always came through. This was Silicon Valley. Money was nothing and there was always someone willing to pay for the latest cool thing.
Now, he tried to reassure her. “Amber.” He leaned back and waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Things come through. They always come through. We’ll think of something.”
“I don’t want to think of something,” she said, her tone crisp. “I don’t want to patch this until it’s two months from now and we’re looking at another quarterly loss, and we’re deeper in the red.”