Download Demon the Descent - Interface PDF

TitleDemon the Descent - Interface
File Size3.5 MB
Total Pages133
Table of Contents
                            Demon - Interface
	The Principal
	Long Road to Caanan
	Time to Go
	Unicorn Crossing
	Dear Marjorie
	About the Authors
Document Text Contents
Page 66



“They go to these shitty bars and get drunk,” she continued. “They get drunk and make
passes at me and I smile and ignore it. And they talk about football. Football, all of the fuck-
ing time. I hate football. I hate it,” she said again, half not believing what she was saying.

Monica was looking at her steadily. “It’s okay,” she said gently.
“I mean, I follow it. It’s what you do, you know? Hell, I spend hours on my fantasy league

and I read everything I can to keep up,” she said, “But I just don’t give a shit. I hate it.”
Tammy bit her lip. She was saying too much. I mean, she and Monica had been close once,
and maybe they were friends on MeYou, but they hadn’t talked in years and here she was
just spilling her guts. It must be the booze, she thought, even though she’d hardly touched
her drink.

“So what’s making you happy these days?” asked Monica, gently.
Tammy shrugged and stabbed at the lime in her drink with a toothpick.
“Are you still doing your art?” said Monica. “You were really good.”
Tammy smiled, not looking up from her glass. “I guess you could say that.” She shook the

lime off of the toothpick, and then stabbed it again.
“It’s a game,” said Tammy. “I’ve been working on it at home for a few years now.”
“A game? What kind of game?” said Monica.
“I’m calling it Unicorn Crossing,” she said, laughing to hide her embarrassment. “It’s sort

of like those old games where you plan and build a city. You play as a little animal-person.
And you’re the mayor of this town, and you have a house, and other animal-people start
moving into town, and you can start building improvements to the town. Planting trees and
putting in parks and office buildings and things. And you get to know the other animal-peo-
ple who live there, and you try to help them get along with their neighbors and have a
friendly community. That kind of stuff.” She stabbed the lime again, and broke the toothpick.
“Pointless, really,” she said.

“So it has, like, unicorns? You always drew fabulous unicorns,” said Monica. She made a
gesture that vaguely suggested a horn coming out of her forehead.

Tammy laughed. “Well, it is a mobile game, and you can get friends and visit each other
people’s towns and stuff. And if enough people visit your town and like it, you’ll get a uni-
corn to move into town!” said Tammy. “It’s really hard, though. I think the current number is
a million likes. I don’t think anyone will get it.”

“I think that sounds fun!” said Monica. “You always drew those adorable little animals
when we were in school. I think you should keep working on it!”

“Yeah, well,” said Tammy. “Anyway. I’ve been talking about myself too much. What have
you been up to?”

Monica had been up to a lot. She was in finance now. Something to do with her sorority
at USC. She’d done pretty well for herself. She wasn’t rich when they were growing up, but
she’d met the right people, played the right games, and now was a bona fide venture capital-
ist. Vice-President of Acquisitions at some acronym. Tammy couldn’t remember much of the
conversation after that.

Page 67



Monica called her a cab as they were leaving. While they waited, Tammy looked at one
of the indoor trees and wondered if it was real or artificial, and if any orange trees had ever
grown here at all.

• • •
After Unicorn Crossing had been downloaded fifty million times, Unicorn Industries
moved into a renovated pen factory. So did Tammy — the offices were on the first floor,
and the second floor had been converted into an enormous loft apartment. At first, Tammy
wasn’t sure about the arrangement, but Monica had gotten her an amazing deal on the prop-
erty and secured some very generous financing for her. It was difficult to turn down.

As she walked down the stairs from the loft to the office, Tammy had to admit that she
vastly preferred her new commute. She could read the news, feed the cat, take a run on the
beach and then get to work on time without needing to wake up at four in the morning.

If only she could find the goddamned cat.
Tammy’d had Ophelia since she was in undergrad, but now she belonged to the entire

office. Tammy based the character that walked you through the tutorial in Unicorn Crossing,
Ofi-chan, on Ophelia’s likeness. She became the official mascot for the game. Ophelia had
tendency to wander downstairs and walk across her coders’ keyboards, but they didn’t mind
too much. Sanjay grumbled about his allergies, but Deena posted lots of pictures of Ophelia
perched among various pieces of equipment and merch on Twitter. She said it was great for
the brand.

“Ophelia?” she called out. She shook the cat’s food dish, rattling the kibble.
Maybe she was asleep in the server closet. It was nice and warm in there.
“C’mere, Ophelia! It’s cat food again. Your favorite —”
The words caught in her throat. Someone was here. A figure, standing in the middle of the

entryway, her face illuminated only by the light of her phone.
“Monica?” Tammy barely recognized her. Her hair was a mess. Her trendy hot pink lip-

stick was smeared across one cheek, and she was wearing the same dress she had been
wearing yesterday.

“We need more content,” said Monica flatly, her eyes not leaving the screen.
“What?” said Tammy. “Are you o—”
“More levels. The unicorn isn’t enough.” Her face was expressionless.
“Have you been here all night?” Tammy asked.
“We can make this game better. We can make this world perfect.”
Tammy had always suspected that there was something icy and bloodless beneath Moni-

ca’s veneer of enthusiasm and cheer. Was this it?
“We need something past the unicorn,” said Monica.
“I’m making some coffee upstairs,” said Tammy. “Have you seen the cat anywhere?”
Monica looked up, and her face transformed instantly. She smiled, showing her dazzlingly

white teeth, and ran her manicured hands through her hair in embarrassment.

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