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action for the players , now also the home to many of Yang’s fellow hosts.  All of the hosts in Squabash were required to wear an interface device, but not everyone would get players who were interested in controlling them remotely.  The barber and the blacksmith would often get several days in a row without any player bothering to take control of their bodies. 
    Yang knew that the smell of smoke from Squabash meant that the denizens were cooking hot food , and this thought made his mouth water.  All he had to eat was a dry breakfast.  He swallowed a bite of hard bread and then a bite of dried salted beef.  The food was cold , but the sun was up now and began to warm him from the outside.  He had to hurry now because the players were probably already waiting for him. 
    Once he finished loading the leftover food and his bedroll into the saddle bags, he checked the action on his rifle and made sure it was loaded.  Next , he pulled his six gun from the holster, opened the cylinder , and made sure it was clean and loaded as well.  He fetched some fresh bullets and pushed them into the empty loops on his holster.  The bullets loaded into the guns and on his holster loops were real bullets, but the lead had been replaced with a dense rubber.  The bullets were strong enough to burst the blood packets on the squib vest that he wore beneath his clothes.  When struck, the squib vest triggered a small explosion which opened the clothes and sent blood spurting out of the simulated wound.  When this happened the hosts were trained to pretend they were shot and this combination of acting and specials effects were sufficient to create a realistic wild west gaming environment.  When fired at close range, the rubber bullets left a nasty bruise on the skin.
    He was ready.  From his shirt pocket , Yang retrieved a small packet with a round yellow pill.  He swallowed it with a long pull on his canteen.  Then put the canteen around the saddle horn.
    He looked out across the valley. Yang admired colors of the fields that were turning from dark to gold and green in the new light.  He watched as the sky turn ed from yellow to blue.  He breathed deeply.  Slowly.   Allowing his heart rate to slow.   He was entering into a hypnotic state.  In his mind’s eye he was leaving his body.  The mental image of himself rose up and drifted above his body which stood gazing out over the fields below. 
    He was with the blackbirds now, riding upon the warm up currents of air. Drifting and dancing, spinning in circles and climbing higher into the crisp morning air.  Below him he watched as his now semi-conscious body lifted his right arm to find the Interface device on his head.  There was a switch located behind his right ear.  He pressed it and he was on.
    The player immediately connected.  Yang was not surprised.  Yang’s outlaw persona , Eli , was a popular character in a popular game.  There were plenty of gunslingers in Squabash , but some were more popular than others.  The player controlled the gunman remotely, but reflexes and physical ability were still ingrained into the body.  Experienced players knew that successful adventures require d a symbiotic bond between player and host.  Yang was gaining in popularity and that meant he was worth more , and would earn more as players bid for control of his body.  It also meant other players would be gunning for him.  If another less popular player could beat him in a gunfight they would take a shortcut to popularity and earn more for themselves.  At Wild West Alive, reputation among the players directly translated into how much you were paid.
    Yang and the other hosts could also earn money by attracting viewers.  Only one player at a time could remotely manipulate Yang’s body, but there was no limit to the players that could participate as passive viewers.  Being a viewer at Wild West Alive was pure voyeurism.  The viewer could watch, hear, smell , taste , and touch