The Book

No game exists in a vaccuum. Along with the B.E.E.S. game, we are also producing a book to hold stories and characters in the world in which the game exists as reality. In the Kickstarter project, one possibility is the opportunity to name a character in the book.
Would you like your name as one of our characters? Help us by donating on Kickstarter.

spirit sample

Ancenstral Reminiscence

Karen Dr. Russel VanOrman-Quine sat in a big brown Queen Anne styled chair. The spirit of his ancestor floated nearby.
“Why the long face?” Doctor VanOrman-Quine asked his hovering descendant.
“I think I’m depressed.”
“How does a Spirit get depressed?”
“It’s not easy.”
“So what is depressing you?”
“I’d say life, but it’s rather the lack thereof.”
“So there’s something wrong with the afterlife.”
“It’s boring.”
“Why is it so boring?”
The apparition begins to float back and forth, as if pacing in thin air. “There is absolutely nothing for me to do. I mean, I feel useless.”
“Well there must be something you can do.”
“No, nothing. I have no enjoyment. There is no use for me in this world.”
“Well, there must be something.” The Doctor stands up and begins pacing counterpoint to his relative.
“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep. I can’t even touch things. I’d help you carry material, but I cannot support it. I have become completely immaterial.”
“I guess death will do that. … … But you are here, right?”
Micky “Well, obviously.”
“Nothing is obvious.” The Doctor walks over to his table and tries several scanners. “You don’t register on any of my detectors. I need to find a detector that can read you.”
“What’s the point?”
“Well, how am I supposed to figure out a use for you if I don’t even know what you are?”
“I’m dead, I’m just not anything anymore.”
“But you’re here, so you must be something, some kind of energy.”
“But what kind of energy just goes on forever with no supply, no sustenance, no need to reset or restore?”
“The completely renewable kind. Self-contained and self-sustaining. You might just be the key to unlimited energy.”
Doctor VanOrman Quine woke from his memories to glance directly at an early model of his BEE reader. It had been a long while since his days of exhaustive research. He credits his discussions with his great-great-great-grandmother. What would have happened had he not cared so much? Quintessence would never have come to be, or it would be called something different, something silly, having been discovered by someone else. Maybe it would be been “The God Particle” or something ridiculous like that.
Elizabeth Petrie, one of Doctor VanOrman-Quine’s assistants walked in at that moment. “Sir”
“Yes, is it time already?”
“Yes sir, your slide show has been loaded. The lecture room is filling as we speak. The students are almost ready for you.”
“What would I do without you Elizabeth?”
“Probably be late for class, sir.”