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any news from Osterfjord?” Erik asked, not that anything much happened at their village. Just the same routines of an olive-growing community, season after season, year after year. Being geological surveyors was much more fun.
    “There’s some kind of cold going around. Half of us have a bit of a fever. You’re better off up in the mountains.”
    “Do you have it?”
    “Yes. But don’t worry, it just makes you feel a bit tired, that’s all.”
    “Well, we have to start back tomorrow. Should we stay in Hope on our way back? We could work on the samples there.”
    “No, really, even if you catch it, it’s not that bad at all.”
    All around them, people were walking swiftly and purposefully through the subway.
    “Have we found out anything more about this place, why it has appeared on our computers?” There was a downside, at a time like this, to being away from everyone. Erik felt like he was missing out on all the important discussions.
    “No one knows. There’s a queen in the game; some people think we should talk to her, but no one has managed it yet. Thorstein proposed to everyone in Hope that we try to earn some credits on our cards to pay for . . .” She paused, as if searching for the right word.
    “Yes?”
    “Look, see those signs?”
    In the space where the various paths met was a tall glowing tube. Colorful pictures revolved around it with strange messages: GLIDE IN STYLE, IN A MOSVEO STARBURST, EIGHT-TIME WINNER OF AIRCAR OF THE YEAR; YOU ARE A GREEN, LET IT BE SEEN, ONO2.
    “Ahh, I see, we should pay for a message like that.” That was a good idea, thought Erik—grab the attention of whoever else was logging in to this game.
    “Apparently you can get them displayed all over the city, if you have enough credit. If we band together, maybe we can do it soon.”
    “Great, it’s exciting, isn’t it? Out there somewhere are people from a different planet.” Erik looked again at the people hurrying past, their shoes tapping out the fast rhythm on the concrete. Were they all NPCs? Or were there people from Earth behind some of them?
    “I should feel excited, but I just feel tired.”
    “Get some rest, Mum.”
    “I . . . Actually, first I think I’ll earn some credits.”
    “How can you do that?”
    “Well, I have pilot skills, for an aircopter, whatever that is. I think I’ll find out tonight and see if it is feasible for me to use my abilities in return for credits.”
    “Don’t stay up too late.”
    They both chuckled at this reversal of the situation when Erik had been an avid player of Epic.
    “You go ahead and get some sleep,” she continued. “You can check in here tomorrow at the same time, if you like.”
    “There’s no real need, though, is there? We’re on our way back tomorrow.”
    “Right you are.” The pilot nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll expect you home by the end of the week.”
    “Yes, I’ll let Bjorn or B.E. know when we’re close.”
    “’Night then, Erik.”
    “’Night.” There was a lackluster tone in Freya’s voice that worried him, but as Erik unclipped, the pleasure of returning to Injeborg pushed all concerns aside.

Chapter 5
    INFECTION
    In the highest levels of certain buildings of the City are rooms that only those with indigo and violet cards may visit. These are the residences and offices of the elite. But unknown even to them are the facilities reserved only for Us, the person that all call the Dark Queen of Saga.
    We own a violet card of so deep a hue that in ordinary light it seems black. It is unique, and is the only key to certain extremely secret places. We wear it next to Our skin, hidden in the bodice of Our dress, attached to a delicate silver cord that circles Our neck. I say “We” because after two thousand years of existence, it is hard to maintain just one personality. In any case there is an appropriate ring to it, the royal “We.” We are in one of Our special places now: a vast luxurious bedroom that encompasses the entire