The Dream World Collective

77. Assignment

Otto hunched over himself, scattering his fingers back and forth across the keyboard with desperate rapidity, utterly absorbed in his work. On the monitor in front of him, browser windows flashed into sight for mere seconds at a time before even more eager windows blocked them out. A near-silent stream of muttering passed his lips, either too distracted or too rapid to be recognizable as English.

"Hey!" shouted a voice behind him.

In under ten minutes he'd carried out Zen's special assignment, scanning the message boards, IRC, and St. Karl forums for buzz about the party and gently nudging the right conversations in the right directions. As if by magic, dozens of people were already eagerly discussing their intended dates and exploits for the upcoming 'ninja party.' Otto had even taken this rare window of opportunity to update four of his blogs and get back to a couple important contacts to explain his temporary absence from the guild and failure to respond to a few programming project offers.

"Hey!" shouted the voice again. "I'm talking to you."

Otto did not respond. The windows continued flashing in front of each other as he switched madly between browsers, not squandering a single moment as various pages loaded and refreshed.

A hard grip clapped onto his shoulder.

"Yeep!" he cried, noticing the other presence for the first time. In just over two seconds, more as reflex reaction than conscious decision, all his windows were closed and the computer was back in exactly the state he'd found it. He whirled around.

"What in bloody hell d'you think you're doing?" roared Eddie.

Otto's eyes bulged.

"The, er, exhibit," he stuttered. "I was interacting with it. It's an interactive exhibit, right?"

"No, it bloody well isn't!"

"But...I thought this was a gallery."

"The gallery is downstairs. This is my office."

"Oh." Otto stooped his shoulders humbly and started shuffling past Eddie toward the spiral stairs. "I'll just—"

"Wait a minute," drawled Eddie, realization awakening in his voice. "You're Otto, aren't you? The fat one? Yes, you must be. Sushi talks about you all the time."

Otto paused mid-shuffle, neither straightening up nor turning around.

"She does?"

"Yes." The word drifted out as Eddie looked him up and down.

"Interesting," he murmured, continuing to study Otto like a piece of sculpture. "Yes, it all makes sense now." He walked around Otto in a slow circle, now nodding in thought, now clucking his tongue disapprovingly. Eddie glanced up sharply. "And you need computer power, do you?"

Otto cocked an eye suspiciously and remained silent.

"All right, tubbo,"Eddie declared. "I have a proposition for you."