Quests, Inc., by Leah Cypess
“A what?” said the receptionist, sounding bored.
“A quest,” repeated Jonathan firmly. “I’m going on a quest. I want a quest license.”
He could hear her fingers typing rapidly. “Your full name, please?”
“Jonathan Gray.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Mmmmm-hmmmm. Intent of quest?”
“I’m bored.”
“Intent of quest.”
Detecting a hint of annoyance, Jonathan bit his lower lip. “Well – uh – how about if I kill an evil creature or something?”
“Which evil creature?” Definite annoyance now.
“Er – ” Jonathan was at a loss. “Any ideas?”
She sighed heavily. “Dragon, griffin, demon, sea serpent….”
“Never mind,” Jonathan said hastily. “That sounds a little more dangerous than I had in mind. How about something to do with a… unicorn?”
“You want to kill a unicorn?”
Judging by her tone of voice, that wasn’t something he should want. “No, of course not. What does a unicorn quest involve?”
“Hold on a moment, sir.” Even her typing sounded resigned. “A unicorn quest involves finding the unicorn and making a wish.”
“The wish is granted?”
“Within reasonable limits. Um – wait a minute. There is a prerequisite.”
Jonathan knew what was coming. ‘What?”
“You have to be – er – pure. What I mean is…” He could almost hear her blushing.
“I get it,” Jonathan said.
After a pause, she said, “Well?”
“It’s okay,” Jonathan said.
There was a longer pause. The receptionist’s voice was incredulous. “It is?”
“Yes.”
An even longer pause. Then, “You’re sure?”
“How exactly would I make a mistake about this?”
“Wow. You know, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to who meets the qualifications.”
Jonathan decided to ignore that. “Well?”
She hesitated. “Look. I shouldn’t ask, but why do you want to go on a quest?”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t. But since you did… I think you already know. My life is boring. Everyone’s life is boring. Isn’t that why Quests, Inc. was started in the first place?”
“Umm….”
“I know, it was started to make money. But the reason it’s making so much money is because people are bored. Business wasn’t great at first, and I know why. I tried your services a few years ago. My quest was clichéd, dull, and obviously invented by a computer. But I’ve heard that things are different now.”
He paused. She didn’t say anything.
“I’ve heard that some people aren’t coming back.”
“Those are unsubstantiated rumors,” she snapped.
“Persistent rumors. If they’re true, it means that somehow the quests are real. And that’s what I want. Magic. Danger. Excitement. Even if it’s just computer-simulated, the fact that it might not be will make it exciting enough.”
“Uh-huh.” She was back to being bored. “I hope you enjoy your danger and excitement. Would you like to hear about our low-interest payment plan?”
#
Not ten minutes into his quest, Jonathan made a mistake.
His first thought was that the receptionist was getting even with him for boring her. He had specifically said no dragons. But a moment later – exactly as long as it took him to dive into a patch of rather thorny bushes -- he realized that the mistake was his. He had taken a wrong turn and bumped into somebody else’s quest.
How embarrassing. On the other hand, it meant the dragon was someone else’s problem. That was nice.
From his vantage point among the thorns, Jonathan couldn’t see much of the fight. There was a lot of roaring and fire-breathing and gushes of bright red blood sprinkling out of the sky. He could feel the warmth of the fire, and one speck of even hotter blood when it hit his elbow – both feelings that made his heart beat faster. Arguably, a computer could know he was there and extend the simulation of someone else’s quest to include him. But it didn’t seem likely.
Finally, with a shrill bellow, the dragon fell. The ground beneath Jonathan shuddered, sending the thorns he had been carefully avoiding scraping along his skin. He winced and carefully extricated himself from the thorns, curious to get a look at the dragon-fighter.
But when he got to the clearing where the dragon was lying in a heap of blue-green scales, the quester was gone. Jonathan sighed and sheathed his Quests, Inc.-issued sword, which he had been hoping would make him look impressive. He was about to turn away when the heap stirred, rose to its feet, and yawned. The dragon spread its wings and soared away.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” a tinny voice said behind him.
Jonathan turned around. A tiny fairy with gossamer wings was hovering behind him, hands on her hips.
Fairies were the clerks of Quests, Inc.; a fairy had introduced him to his quest, helped him pick out his weapons, and handed him his introductory booklet. Jonathan wasn’t impressed. He raised his eyebrows.
The fairy’s brow furrowed. “Um… so maybe you could forget it?”
“Forget that all of this isn’t real?”
She drew herself up as tall as she could get – which wasn’t very – then shot the rest of the way up into the air, until she was at his eye level. “I beg your pardon. Are you calling me a fake?”
“Not you,” Jonathan said hastily. When fairies got annoyed, their voices got very high-pitched; something he had learned by annoying all three of the fairies in his introductory session. “You, this place, they’re all real. But the quests are a set-up. Right?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” said the fairy. Then she shrugged. “But it looks like you know already.”
“Why not supposed to?” Jonathan said. “Why are all you magical creatures cooperating with Quests, Inc.? They make a fortune. What do you get in return?”
The fairy’s eyes lit up. “I’ll show you. Look.” She zig-zagged through the branches and disappeared. After a moment she reappeared, holding something small and white in both hands. Jonathan bent to look at it. It was half a sugar cube.
“Sugar?” he said.
“It’s delicious!” The fairy buried her face in her hand and began guzzling. “They give us lots of it, every week. Those of us who participate in the quest get the most, and everyone else gets just a little for not giving the whole thing away. It’s inconvenient having humans tramp through our lands, but it’s worth it. Mmmm….” She looked up suddenly, guiltily. “Don’t tell anyone I told you!”
“I won’t,” Jonathan said. “Thanks.”
The fairy disappeared.
Jonathan picked up his shield and trudged back to the path. This made sense of everything… except the rumors that some people weren’t coming back.
Tucking his sword and shield under his arm, he opened his introductory booklet at random and began to read.
All charitable wishes are tax-deductible. Taxes on over-extravagant wishes (defined in chapter 10) are in a higher bracket. Taxes for wishes which could be accomplished in the mortal world for under one hundred dollars, if documentation is submitted to verify that possibility….
Jonathan stopped short, put his sword and shield down, and began flipping through the pages. Taxes, taxes… taxes. Not a single word limiting the wishes.
That couldn’t be true. Anyone who passed the unicorn quest could ask for anything? That was impossible, especially if the test was set up so that everyone won.
Once again, he remembered that some people had not come back.
The path he was following ended up abruptly at a meadow. It was emerald green and covered with flowers. Birds sang in chorus, the sky was suddenly cloudless, and to his side, a brook went tinkling by.
Wild guess: he was going to see the unicorn here.
He put down his sword and shield. He held onto the booklet. And he waited.
After a moment, the unicorn appeared at the edge of the meadow. She was a delicate, ethereally beautiful creature, pure white with a slender, curved horn. She stood at the edge of the trees, turned her graceful head, and saw him. Her eyes widened.
Jonathan suddenly remembered the fairies’ instructions: he was supposed to hide and lie in wait for her. Dropping the pamphlet, he dashed behind some bushes.
There was a short pause while the unicorn stared at the bushes. Finally, apparently deciding to act like the quest was going as planned, she stepped daintily over to the brook and knelt her head to drink.
Jonathan stepped out. “I have found you!”
The unicorn pranced backward and stared at him. In one graceful leap, she was over the brook. Jonathan clapped politely. She gave him a puzzled look, then said in a lilting voice – with, oddly, a British accent – “I must grant you your wish. Choose.”
“Okay,” said Jonathan. The possibilities were endless. Riches? Women? Something more original? They were all within his reach. “Um… let’s see. I choose…”
“Wait!” the unicorn whinnied. “Before you speak, let me ask you a question. Where will you go after your wish is granted?”
“Home, natura – ” Jonathan began. And then he saw it. “Oh. How do I get there?”
The unicorn lowered her head and chewed some grass, looking innocent.
“I got it,” said Jonathan. “I have to wish to get home, is that it? There’s no other choice.”
“It would seem so,” the unicorn murmured.
“Is that what happened to the people who didn’t come back? They made a different wish?” Jonathan scowled. “They probably didn’t last long, in a magical world where they weren’t protected by Quests, Inc.”
The unicorn shrugged, somehow managing it despite having a body wholly unsuited to the motion.
Jonathan walked over to where he had dropped his pamphlet and snatched it up. “Just out of curiosity, can you actually grant wishes?”
The unicorn stiffened and looked up. “That’s an insulting question.”
“Well, excuse me if I’m not at my best right now. I don’t appreciate being cheated.”
“You weren’t cheated,” the unicorn said. “You got your quest. Your excitement. Your danger. That’s what you paid for, isn’t it?”
“Now you sound like a lawyer,” Jonathan snapped. “I would rather not have a unicorn talking to me like a lawyer, if you don’t mind. It destroys my sense of the fitness of things.” As an afterthought, he added, “And I was cheated.”
“Quests, Inc. promises adventure, and that’s what you got. So the end wasn’t all you thought it would be – what end ever is? What goal is really worth the struggle? It’s the struggle itself that humans want, though we don’t realize it.”
“And now you sound like a philosopher with a blog,” said Jonathan disgustedly.
The unicorn stamped a hoof. “Wish!”
“Just out of curiosity, why did they bother with that pamphlet if those rules will never apply?”
Once again, the unicorn shrugged. “If something can be taxed, people believe it’s real.”
“When I get home, you know, I could just tell everyone the truth about you.”
Apparently unicorns could smile too. “Who would believe you?”
“All right,” Jonathan said. “I wish I was home.”
#
Instantly, he was.
He sat up on his couch and frowned. He did not like being made a fool of, and that was definitely what had just happened.
On the end of his couch lay his sword and shield. He looked at them, and an idea grew in his mind.
He picked up his phone and dialed, walking to the kitchen as he did.
“Hello?” he said. “I want to go on a quest.”
He smiled to himself as he reached up and took a box of sugar cubes from the shelf.
This time, things would be a little different.
-End-