Captain Jack

“Jack? Are you alright?” The calming voice resonated around the room, invisible speakers throwing the sound from beyond the walls’ surface.

Jack didn’t respond. He sat on his bed, knees tucked up in front of him, arms wrapped around his legs and head buried in his arms. He felt hot. Despite coming in from the wintery cold of the world outside only minutes ago, his cheeks were flushed and his palms felt sweaty. He hated it when that happened. He looked like a beetroot; he just knew it.

“Jack… are you crying?” The deep voice was soothing, like a proud parent coddling a newborn baby. But he wasn’t a baby. He didn’t need a hug. Oh what I wouldn’t do for a hug…

“‘M not,” Jack barked, voice muffled.

“Come on, Jack,” the soothing voice said. “Please tell me what happened.”

Jack poked his head up to glare around his room. It was big for a bedroom, though most of the walls were taken up with storage, making the place feel cramped and uncomfortable. Sometimes it seemed his parents kept all their junk in his room. Was he just storage space to them?

“Oh, Art,” Jack mumbled to the open air. “We had Sculpture again. I hate Sculpture.”

Artifice—“Art” for short—was a computer program, an Artificial Intelligence, made to tutor, encourage… cover all the bases in case the realonly parents didn’t do a great job of raising their own kid. Jack’s parents relied all-too heavily on the AI in Jack’s opinion. Though he had to admit, Art was his best friend in the whole world. His friend…

“But you love to sculpt,” Art said.

“Here, yes. At school? I just… I can’t…” Jack struggled for the words. “They hate me,” he mumbled bitterly.

“They don’t know you like I do,” Art said. “They haven’t seen you when you’re sculpting.”

“Yeah?” Jack said, raising his voice. “Well maybe if I could use the interface like a normal human being—”

“You don’t need the interface to create—”

“They make worlds come alive! Generate creatures that move and talk! You haven’t seen them. You don’t know.” A silence hung awkwardly in the room. It wasn’t Artifice’s fault. He shouldn’t have taken it out on him.

“I’m sorry,” Jack mumbled, wiping the last tears from his eyes.

“The other children can push buttons,” Art said, calm as ever. “But can they make anything with their own two hands? I have seen you make beautiful, wonderful things.”

“Static things,” Jack said, sadly.

The walls shifted hue, slowly. The shift was subtle, designed to encourage a certain response from the room’s occupants. Instead of the cool greens and blues, the walls now sported a reddish hue like a setting sun.

“Tell me,” Art said. There was a tone to his voice of… excitement? What was he planning? “What was today’s assignment?” he asked.

“To build a boat. The lazy ones just made rowboats, but the others made speedboats.”

“And what were you going to make?” Art prompted.

Jack felt a grin form on his face. “I was going to make a pirate ship. Like in the movies. With cannons and a plank and a crow’s nest… But I couldn’t do it! The tools just don’t work right for me; I can’t feel them in my hands—”

“Okay, okay,” Art said soothingly. “So let’s make a pirate ship.”

“But we don’t have—”

“You don’t need the software. You have creativity. You have ability. You can make whatever you like.”

“But… I don’t—”

“Now get up and fetch some clay, would you?”

“What—”

“If you please?” Art said sternly.

Jack’s shoulders sagged and with a sigh he flicked his legs out off of the bed and stood up. “Yeah, yeah…” he mumbled, as he shuffled out of the room.

---

“So. Today we have a special treat,” Mrs. Crane announced to the class. The chatter quietened at this, the kids shoving their bags under the table, their eyes glistening in anticipation. “You have learned how to shape the virtual clay using the add and subtract functions. And last week we learned how to paint and animate it with the interface. Today we will be going to the holosuite to see how it’s really done.”

A cheer erupted from the class, kids shouting and talking excitedly amongst themselves. Jack waited for the cacophony to subside. The other kids in the class had joined because Sculpture was booked for the most holo time of all the lessons. They hoped for adventures and RPGs and, sometimes, they got them.

But Jack wasn’t there for the suite. He was there for the sculpting. It was all he had done in the school holidays before joining the senior school, and it had quickly become his passion in lieu of friends coming over to play or parents taking him out. He hoped there would be some actual sculpture to look at; something really beautiful and captivating. Of course, the others would hate it, but at least he’d actually be able to participate.

“So everyone pack up their bags and form a line outside,” the teacher called over the chaos.

The class lined up in the corridor and then followed the teacher over to the holosuite over the other side of the school. Then, while Mrs. Crane gave a speech about safety inside a virtual environment for insurance reasons—don’t jump off cliffs, don’t get your head stuck in railings and so forth—the kids shuffled themselves into a haphazard line, Jack joining quietly at the back.

Once the script was finished, Mrs. Crane looked up, stepping to the side to look down the line at her students. “Jack? Jack Brown, where are you?”

Me? What does she want for? Jack wondered.me He stepped out of line reluctantly. “Here miss,” he mumbled.

“Ah! There you are. There’s a space up here for you my dear.”

The front? He didn’t like the idea of going round with the cool kids almost as much as they didn’t want him there.

“That means come here, Mr. Brown,” she called.

His head dropping, Jack shuffled towards the first group. He could feel everyone’s eyes staring as he went.

“Okay. Good lad,” she said, before turning and entering in a few commands to the interface that hovered in-front of the door. “Now… ready? And… go!” She gave the door a quick shove and the ten or so students in front of Jack bolted through the opening in an instant. Jack followed sullenly into the chamber.

---

The room was dark at first but, as soon as the door was shut and bolted, the program began. The sound of seagulls and crashing waves. The creak of wood beams. The flap of canvas sails straining against the strong sea wind.

The lights came up, and they were there. A grand pirate ship rocked and shuddered beneath their feet as it forced its way through the waves. Jack stepped out onto the deck, staring in wonder at the ship. He examined the detailed carving and felt the woodwork. Tentatively, he stepped forward and held the ship’s wheel.

It was his! The whole ship was his! The pirate ship he made with Art almost a week ago… it was real. It moved, it creaked… it interacted. It was better than he’d ever dreamed of.

“Your tutor sent it to me, Jack,” the teacher said behind him, softly. “He said you’d made it with your bare hands and he helped you with the interface work. He sent me the file, I had a look, and… it’s simply amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it; not from a student. Never something so detailed and grand.” Her eyes shone in wonder as she stared at the open sea and the magnificent ship in front of them.

“But how—” Jack asked, spinning round on his heel.

“He emailed me,” Mrs. Crane said. “Asked me for my opinion as your Sculpture teacher. Jack, I never knew you had such a talent!”

Jack turned and stared across at the ship before him; ten cannons on each side, the swaying ropes and pulleys… “But I only made a little clay sculpture,” he mumbled. “I can’t do any of the interface things like the others can.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” the teacher mused. “That’s the hard part. Pushing buttons isn’t what makes art; it’s the original material that takes talent. It’ll take the others the rest of their school careers to approach your level of skill. I’m sorry I never noticed you worked better with the real stuff than in virtual space, but… you’re gifted, Jack. And I’d be more than happy to help you with the rest, if your tutor is okay with that. With time, and practice… you’ll take the world by storm.”

Jack reached up and gripped the wheel once more. He felt the wind on his face, smelled the faint sea salt on the breeze. So this is what it feels like to be home.