Chương 89: CDM 2, Chapter 25: Working Vacation

"You were both offered this opportunity?" Enforcer Chapman asked, her hands steepled in front of her chest as she sat back in her desk chair.

"Correct," Megan answered.

"No notice isn't very professional."

"We found out about it last night and came to you this morning," Megan said.

"We agree it's short notice and wish we had heard earlier." Chapman's gaze shifted to me. That couldn't be good.

"Enforcer Osheski has an exemplary record," Chapman began.

"You, not so much. With your performance, why should I bend over backwards to accommodate this request?"

"I understand your position. I would hope the quality of my fieldwork demonstrates my potential and my commitment to the CDM. Levels would make me even more useful."

"Your inspection rates are on par with the rest of the team."

"I'm not talking about inspection rates, ma'am." Chapman knew I was undercover for George Baker's arrest. She saw the video, shot from a hidden camera in my helmet, of him smiling about the prospect of killing me and the other crashers. When her eyes narrowed, I was certain she picked up on my meaning. I felt Megan shift next to me, shooting me confused looks. She had deduced that Jonathan was CKed, but she didn't know I was involved in Baker's arrest or that I had gone undercover on multiple occasions.

"You believe you could put these levels to use in your fieldwork?" Chapman asked.

"I would welcome that opportunity, yes."

"Those are big words, and it would be disappointing to learn they were empty."

"I believe my openness to fieldwork despite my low level and limited training is proof my words aren't empty." Chapman nodded slowly.

"I'll give you an answer by the end of the day."

"Thank you," Megan and I said in unison before leaving her office. When the elevator doors shut and it was just Megan and me, I said, "That went better than I expected."

"I don't know what card you played back there, but she sure knew what you were talking about."

"Just fieldwork." Megan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, sure, Dor. Don't worry. I won't pry."

"Thank you." The rest of the day was the same old tedium of working RAID while auditors looked over our shoulders. We were a new pilot program, and most of the team were entry-level CDM, either pulled from active internships or selected shortly after an internship concluded. Fine-tooth-combing our work at this stage was unreasonable. We were told from the outset that mistakes and problems were expected in an initiative as new as this.

That wouldn't excuse blatant negligence, but the questions we got were structured as if RAID had been around for years, and our practices and procedures were etched in stone. By the end of shift, neither Megan nor I had heard from Chapman, but my email dinged on my drive home. I checked it at a stoplight. Chapman approved our unpaid time off. The Nad-Nade excursion was officially a go. The Dungeon Divas had a chance at the big time.

The four of us–me, Megan, Nathan, and Beth–flew from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles, where we met Chrissy, our new Nad-Nade point of contact. Our layover was only a couple of hours, and she had reserved an airport lounge where we could meet and talk privately before boarding our next flight. Chrissy wore dark-rimmed glasses, a messy bun, flip-flops, blue jeans, and a Nad-Nade t-shirt. A high-fashion luggage set was on the floor next to her.

"I recognize Beth from the conference calls," she said, stepping forward to hug Beth.

"So if she's the manager, that means you three are the Dungeon Divas." Nathan and I waved awkwardly.

"First of all, we work with a lot of crawler influencers, and they all value their privacy. Let me assure you that our production crew has a lot of practice at keeping identities and other life details a secret. We've invested in your brand, and the last thing we want to do is to be the ones who poisoned it. There won't be any leaks on our side, so if you are just as careful, we won't have any issues.

"We have a lot more flying ahead of us," she added as she passed out printed itineraries.

"We'll have a brief layover in Honolulu, Hawaii, before flying to Taiwan. We'll land in Taoyuan International, switch planes, and fly to Penghu." Chrissy pointed to a map of Taiwan and traced a straight line from the northernmost tip of the island to a small batch of islands west of the country's primary landmass.

"Then we'll take a van to the headquarters for Bluewater Security Limited. They're outfitted to house the rich and famous, so I think you'll approve of the accommodations, and you won't need to worry about looking over your shoulders at that point. They are known for their discretion. Once you're settled and briefed, they will take you to the mainland by helicopter to their base of operations." When I looked around the room, I was relieved to see I wasn't the only one wide-eyed at how real this suddenly felt.

Beth, Megan, and Nathan even looked a little white. I hoped I was–outwardly–handling this better, but I knew I probably looked even more overwhelmed than they did. Though our layovers stopped in exotic places, we wouldn't have time to see anything but the inside of those airports. Hawaii and Taiwan both sounded like interesting countries to me. When we learned in school that Hawaii used to be a US territory, I always found that hard to picture.

Yes, yes, Pearl Harbor was an important moment in the war, but the arrival of dungeon gates galvanized a renewed push for Hawaiian independence. The US military pulled back to defend the larger cities on the mainland, leaving Hawaiians to manage the gates themselves. Now Hawaiian crawlers were widely known for being exceptionally skilled, and the territory returned to being a sovereign nation. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I knew even less about Taiwan, and the photos online made it look ultra-futuristic. Seeing Penghu was technically seeing Taiwan, but that little collection of islands had to be much different from the densely populated island that housed the majority of the nation's people.

"Any questions?" Chrissy asked. Megan raised her hand.

"Should we be posting now about the trip?"

"Yes, please. If something is off-limits, we'll say so. Until that happens, post everything. Each airport, what you eat, the view out the windows–You're on an adventure, so take your viewers along with you. The main Nade channels won't repost everything, but they will be amplifying your content regularly. Obfuscate any location data, though. Even if someone could figure out where you are from the picture, don't say so and don't confirm any guesses. Remember, your NDA is good until the show airs.

This is part of honoring that." Chrissy waited to see if we had more questions. When we didn't, she said, "Next flight leaves in an hour. You're welcome to come and go from this lounge as you please. Just be back here on time." With that, Chrissy ventured into the airport, pulling her roller carry-on along behind her.

"This is surreal," Nathan said.

"Are we really here doing this?" Megan rubbed his back.

"It all happened so fast too," he added. Megan smiled.

"Letting Beth help us was the smartest thing we ever did."

"They reached out to us," Beth argued.

"I didn't have to do anything."

"Girl, Dungeon Divas could exist without you, technically, but holy hell would it suck. What the channel is now? You're a huge part of that." Beth blushed and looked at her feet.

"I agree with Megan," I said.

"We're all here because of you. Who would have thought you'd end up in crawler management?" Nathan stood to stretch. Through his grunts, he said, "I'm glad Frank or Milly's didn't make it hard for you."

"Frank is really impressed by this, actually," Beth replied.

"He didn't expect the Dungeon Divas to be more than a small marketing experiment."

"And now his work is ending up on a reality show."

"Exactly."

"I'm going to go walk around for a bit," Nathan said.

"Anyone want to join me?"

"I want to try and nap," Megan answered.

"I'll come," Beth replied, hopping to her feet.

"Are you staying here, Dor?"

"Yeah, I can watch your stuff. Keep Nathan out of trouble, please." When they exited the lounge, Megan asked, "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." She sighed disappointedly at me.

"Okay, fine," I conceded.

"I think we have a lot we need to figure out before we are waist-deep in this. Do we come clean to viewers that I'm a dude? Nad-Nade has been good about it, but what if another sponsor asks us to do something in person? Christ, what if we get the chance to collaborate with a big crawler? I don't know how we fake it, and I don't see them keeping our secret."

"I thought of most of that too," she said.

"How do you feel about crossdressing?"

"It's the big elaborate lie I'm worried about."

"We've never actually mentioned our genders on the channel. A diva can be a guy, but everyone just assumed we were both women. I mean, you're not a very cute girl, Dor. Even with the helmet on. No one should be surprised."

"I hate that I'm offended by that."

"That you're not a cute girl?"

"Yeah." Megan laughed.

"The internet disagrees with me, though, so don't be too offended."

"Har, har."

"I say we just don't correct anyone who assumes, and we just keep doing what we're doing. If we need to do a reveal, then we do it. Maybe we won't ever need to."

"Feels risky," I said.

"Well, we could reveal it now and see what happens. Or, we could make our money and hope people laugh if it ever does come out."

"I don't know."

"What we're doing is no different than working under a pen name, in my mind," Megan continued.

"We haven't lied to anyone, and I agree that we never should lie. I think the cover is worth the brand risk, and that extra protection has to be good for whatever your real job at the CDM is." I nodded. She pulled me into a hug.

"This is a good thing. Don't forget to enjoy it." We arrived in Honolulu at 8 p. m. local time and departed a short while later, so we didn't get much of a view of the islands. I thought we'd see a glittering oasis in the ocean of black when we got close enough, but Chrissy explained that light pollution laws in Hawaii were strict. Native species suffered even before the gates arrived, so the nation made preservation a top priority. Dimmer, motion-activated streetlights were one small piece of that effort.

Taiwan was a different story. Approaching that island was like flying toward a sunrise of neon. Taipei, the capital, was sprawling yet densely packed with skyscrapers, many featuring giant LED billboards or elaborate decorative lights that highlighted the unique architecture of each building. Supposedly the city was powered entirely by mana crystals, as was their extensive public transportation system. Taipei 101, the world's tallest building, shined over the city.

Inspired by the natural segments of bamboo, Taipei 101 was built with distinct tiers stacked on top of each other, concluding with a glittering lookout point at the top. That night, Taipei 101 was lit up with emerald green.

"It's like a sci-fi city," Nathan said, equally transfixed by the view out our airplane windows.

"And it looks so clean. Like sparkly clean." Beth didn't say anything, but she was clearly enraptured by what she saw. This was a long way from our little church town in West Virginia. Like me, she probably believed that seeing a place like this in person was an impossibility, that we could never get so far from our original bubble. But we didn't get to see any more of Taipei than that. We transferred to a smaller plane and made the short trek to Penghu.

These islands were brightly lit, but on a scale of Hawaii to Taipei, this felt much more like flying into Honolulu, where there was a distinct area of development while the area around it was more humble. Chrissy guided us into a plain white van, briefly speaking Taiwanese with the driver.

I didn't speak Taiwanese, but I knew no part of that conversation had statements like "please, drive carefully" or "we aren't in a rush" because we rocketed away from the tiny airport and into the dark of night, traveling ludicrously fast over a few bridges and through areas that felt strangely like the South Hills of Pittsburgh in terms of population. We eventually arrived on an island thick with green trees save for the campus of Bluewater Security Limited.

Most of it was out of sight behind walls as we drove in, but Chrissy said the grounds included hotel-style accommodations for guests, a private airport, a dock, and then several buildings devoted to employee housing. An army of bellhops met us at the door. Most of them were there to take our luggage, but a few carried trays with fresh ice water and warm towels. They escorted us directly to the fifth floor, the highest in this particular building, and gave us keycards for our rooms.

"Before all of you scatter," Chrissy said, standing in the hallway with us as our luggage was deposited into our respective rooms.

"It's almost 5 a. m. local time. Our day starts at noon sharp, so be in the lobby by then. If you're hungry or thirsty, there's a phone and menu for room service inside. Try to get some sleep. Goodnight." My personal room was as large as my entire apartment in Pittsburgh. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean. In addition to my big fluffy bed, I had a couch, two chairs, a desk, and a gleaming bathroom the size of my bedroom at home.

I know that this wasn't an all that impressive hotel room in the grand scheme of things, but it was my first time staying in a place anywhere near this nice. To me, this felt like being royalty. When I got out of the shower, I heard a gentle knock at my door. Beth stood in the hallway with a pillow and blanket in her arms. Her hair was still wet from the shower.

"This is embarrassing to ask, but I don't want to sleep alone," she said, her eyes downcast shamefully. I held the door open for her.

"Neither do I."