“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

  —J.R.R. Tolkien, THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING

  function annotate204(){ codex.updateEntry(“Chrono Accounting | Time is only a loan, with a compounding borrowing cost.”); }

  // Time is the only true currency, in life and literature; how you spend it—now that’s what truly matters.

  Talanore got up from the bar with an audible groan. A groan that reeked of all the melodrama of an old man pretending he was being put upon. He called over his shoulder, “Follow me, younglings,” as he hobbled toward the door.

  Remi chuckled. It had been some time since anyone had asked him for his ID at the liquor store, so a youngling he was not. But he guessed that age was a relative thing. Who knows how long Talanore was supposed to have existed? He appeared older than his neighbor, but still had a spring in his step. Regardless, he wouldn’t be asking.

  They stopped in front of the doors. They almost looked like French doors, given they were so close together. But a closer examination revealed there was about a two-inch gap between them.

  The quill-engraved door flared with an orange light, while the circuit pulsed with blue. “Quill’s yours, lad. Circuit belongs to...” Talanore hesitated as he looked at Nel. He had thought about using a nickname for her too, but her stony face made him think better of it. “…that one is for Nel.” Her slight head tilt indicated he had been correct about the name.

  “But before you go in there, lad, I need you to take a second to double-check that bag of yours,” he said. “Make sure that pocket dimension of yours is good and sealed, as both rooms are also dimensional spaces.”

  Remi reached down and closed the zipper. The zip noise was bombastic, but it was closed. His scarf morphed into a green checkmark as if it were letting Talanore know of Remi’s success.

  “Ok you two, you’ve got to open your own doors. They’re keyed to your biometrics. Only you can open the door. It prevents unwanted visitors.” Remi reached for the knob. Talanore stopped him. “Wait a second there, lad, you’ve got to select your room first.”

  Nel raised her hand, pointer finger extended. “Explain.”

  “Well, there are a variety of rooms you can select from. The crucible predetermined these to meet a variety of needs. There are class specific spaces, so in Remi’s case, he will have a library filled with books that he can use to study, and you will have a tech-bay.” Nel looked intrigued. “There is of course a standard room, where you can sleep and clean up. If the system determines you need a space, an armory, or a clothier, or even a potion supply shop, that too could be an option.”

  Remi chimed in. “So, it's like a little personalized village behind a door.”

  Talanore shook his head no. “Not really. You see, there is a restriction, and while there are several options you can choose from, the system has some safeguards. The biggest one being you can only enter a specialized space once per visit to the saferoom. You can walk through that door, and the stuff you need will be there. Stay in there for as long as needed, but most spaces can only be entered once.” He shrugged, “You’ll always have access to your bedroom, however.” Talanore hesitated, his eyes glazed, like he was reading something written on his brain.

  “Interesting,” Nel said. “So if I can stay there for as long as I like—.”

  “Within reason, different rooms have different limits,” Talanore cut in.

  “Then what is to prevent me from simply staying in my bedroom indefinitely?” Nel said.

  “Other than its being boring as shit,” Talanore said with a laugh. “Well, time moves super slow in there, so you could stay in there for weeks, and come out and only a fraction of time will have passed out here.”

  “Why?” Remi asked.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Narrative efficiency principle,” was Talanore’s response. “Most of what you would do in there—sleep, bathe, train, read a book, work on code, brew up something, whatever—while necessary for a good story is boring as hell to read. While everyone needs to go to the crapper now and then, or take a shower, it's not usually an exciting story.” He paused, like that explanation was sufficient.

  Nel’s mouth twitched. “Explain. More.”

  Talanore breath in was loud and his face twisted slightly. “This will take a sec. I’ve got a bit of a script I have to follow now. Do you want to sit back down?” Remi could see him looking longingly at the whiskey bottle on the bar.

  “No, we’re fine,” was Nel’s response.

  “Well, every person needs to do things. You’ve probably noticed that with sleeping. But that works with everything, including eating and shitting. Those things are unavoidable, but the Crucible has slowed your need to do those things down. One of the main purposes of this space is to allow you to do those things. The entire hall is a narrative pause, a break from the main story. You come here, do the things you need and then get back out there.” Talanore exhaled, as tension left his shoulders, he looked like he’d just finished a marathon.

  “Interesting,” said Remi. “I mean, narratively speaking of course.”

  “The system thought so too.”

  Remi continued. “But how can you have a space that is essentially a narrative hole in the plotline of a story?”

  Talanore pointed at Nel. “Why don’t you ask your friend? She’s likely familiar with the mechanics already.”

  “What is he talking about, Nel?”

  It was her turn to take a large inhalation of breath. “He is likely talking about a sandbox like space. Which is how I chose to get here?”

  Remi had many questions all at once, but Nel stopped him.

  “We can talk about that all later. The part you need to know is that some spaces operate slower that others. This time distortion allows you to live in individualized amounts of time that are far longer than the narrative time. So you can spend weeks in the liminal space, and only a bit of time passes in the regular Crucible. Thankfully, your actual age is determined out here. I was afraid that when I entered the Crucible proper that it would speed up it to compensate. It didn’t. Not sure how, but it is what it is, and who can say no to a digital fountain of youth?”

  Talanore nodded agreement. “She is right. Think of it this way. Real time out here. This room included. Compressed time in there.”

  Remi frowned. “So what stops someone from just—”

  “Room limits,” Nel said immediately. “Hard caps. Varies per space.”

  Talanore nodded. “Exactly. Bedrooms are set to one day of inside time; other rooms can be months.” He looked at Nel directly, pausing until she finally made eye contact. “There is also one more thing.”

  “Which is,” she said.

  “If you break the cap, the system re-syncs the time.”

  “Shit, really?” She looked at Remi, who was obviously confused. “That means we stay too long, and that fountain of youth dries up.”

  Talanore looked sad. “I’m sorry, lass, you’ve only got yourself to blame for that. You exploited the system once. The Crucible doesn’t allow hacks to last for long.”

  “I’ve got it,” Nel said, “but to summarize, two rooms max: one for personal needs, one specialty. Time is compressed. I’ll explain the details to him later.” Remi considered objecting, but he was good with it. As long as one of them understood, and he trusted she did, she was right; it was good enough for now.

  Nel was in charge of the conversation now. “What I need to know is how I select my room?”

  Talanore gestured to the circuit icon on the door. “You just tap your icon and it will turn into a display. You will get the room options for you, some descriptions, as well as the time limits.”

  Nel needed no further prompting. She tapped the neon circuit, which blinked to be replaced with a list. “I have a bedroom.” She tapped an info button, “which is for rest and hygiene. And a tech bay.” With a few more taps, she’d scrolled through the information box. “Okay my dude. What you got?”

  Remi followed suit—tapped the quill to reveal three options:

  Bedroom

  Combat Training

  Library (Class Specific Space)

  “Read the information panels?”

  “No,” Nel said. “I’ve got a training room too, pick that one.” Remi reached to select it, but she swatted his hand down.

  “Not yet. I need some time to figure a few things out. I’ll go into my tech space first, so I can look at some of the code, read some programmer notes, and you—.”

  “Yes,” Remi replied eagerly.

  Nel smiled as she tapped her display panel, making her selection.

  [SYSTEM MESSAGE]

  Room Selected: Tech-bay

  Time Limit: 1 week

  TEMPORAL BARRIER DETECTED

  DIMENSIONAL TIME FLOW REDUCED TO 0.07%

  External progression suspended while inside this space.

  “You’re going to get a snack.” She reached into her hoodie and pulled out what looked to be a power bar. “I’m going to dig in for a bit,” she said, eating half in one bite. The second quickly followed, forcing her to say the rest through a mouthful of granola. “You and I will chat once I know more. Also, drink some coffee; we both know how bitchy you get when you don’t have enough caffeine.”

  With that, she opened the door and stepped through. Talanore and Remi were left alone, staring at Nel’s closed door.

  Talanore grinned. “Well, the lass said you should have a coffee. I have a feeling that she and I will not always agree, but that is a damn good idea. I take mine with whiskey. You?”