(Location: Johannesburg, South Africa | Time: Mid-Late 1993)
The upgrade to Stamina Level 3 proved immediately beneficial. Tom found his operational periods significantly extended. The frustrating need for frequent naps lessened, replaced by a longer, more sustainable energy curve throughout the day. This newfound endurance unlocked the next kinetic frontier: running.
It began not as a conscious decision, but as an overflow of toddler energy. Chasing a rolling ball, propelled by excitement, his walking pace simply tipped over into something faster, less controlled. His legs churned, wind ruffled his hair – a sensation both exhilarating and terrifying. The world became a blur of motion viewed from just a couple of feet off the ground. Control was minimal; steering involved planting a foot and hoping his momentum carried him vaguely in the desired direction. Stopping was often achieved via abrupt contact with the floor or furniture.
[Locomotion Mode Detected: Running (Unstable)]
[Speed Burst Recorded: 3 km/h (Peak)]
[Warning: Loss of Traction Imminent!]
The System's warnings often flashed nanoseconds before the inevitable tumble. His Durability 3 stat earned its keep daily. A sprawl on the living room rug that might have resulted in tears previously now just elicited a grunt and a surprisingly quick scramble back to his feet, the System noting [Fall Impact Absorbed. Recovery Time: 2.8 seconds.]. His Reflexes 2 helped too, making his landings slightly less awkward, his arms instinctively moving to break the fall more effectively.
He practiced running in the garden, the soft grass offering a more forgiving surface. He'd run in short bursts across the lawn, feeling the rhythm, learning to lean into turns, however wide and wobbly they were. Elena would laugh, encouraging him, sometimes jogging alongside him for a few steps. He wasn't fast by any adult measure, but in his own world, he was shifting gears, finding a new level of dynamic movement. The System awarded fractional SP for distance covered while running and for maintaining control over increasingly longer stretches.
[Objective Updated: Locomotion - Running (Controlled, Distance: 10 meters)] - Reward: 0.6 SP
Climbing became the next vertical challenge. The single low step leading from the living room out onto the covered patio was his Mount Everest for a week. It was perhaps only 15 centimetres high, well within the System's current objective parameters [Objective: Locomotion - Climbing Low Obstacles (Max Height: 30cm)]. He'd approach it, place his hands on the edge, and try to haul himself up. His arms strained; his legs scrambled for purchase. It required coordination he hadn't quite mastered.
He studied it like a complex corner at Monaco. Where was the best hand placement? Which leg should lead? He tried different techniques, applying the analytical mindset he'd once used for simulator setups. One method involved getting one knee up first, then pushing hard with the back leg while pulling with his arms. After several failed attempts ending in him sliding back down, he finally scrambled onto the patio surface, breathing hard but triumphant.
[Manoeuvre Analysis: Step Ascent - Completed.]
[Coordination Rating: 4/10. Power Output: Sufficient. Technique: Improvable.]
[Objective Progress: Climbing Low Obstacles - 1/3 Required Heights Mastered.]
Getting down was another puzzle. His first instinct was to just launch himself off, but a System warning [Potential Fall Damage High - Recommend Safer Descent Strategy] combined with a flicker of self-preservation made him pause. He remembered seeing older kids at the park turning around to climb down ladders. He awkwardly shuffled himself around, lowering his legs first until his feet touched the living room floor, then letting go with his hands. It was clumsy, but effective. [Safe Descent Strategy Employed. Problem Solving +0.05 SP] flashed the System. Small bonuses for thinking, not just doing.
Language continued its parallel development. Two-word phrases evolved into three, sometimes four words, strung together with toddler grammar but clear intent. "Tom want red car now." "Mama go park please?" "Daddy fix computer?" The world was opening up, and he wanted to understand everything. This led, inevitably, to the 'Why?' phase.
"Why sky blue, Mama?" he asked one afternoon, pointing upwards while sitting in the garden.
Elena smiled. "Well, darling, it's complicated. Sunlight hits the air, and the blue light scatters more than other colours."
"Why?"
"That's just how light and air work together."
"Why?"
Elena sighed good-naturedly. "It's physics, sweetie."
"Why physics?"
This could go on for a while. James faced similar interrogations about computers ("Why click buttons?") and cars ("Why wheels go round?"). While occasionally taxing for his parents, each question felt like flexing a cognitive muscle for Tom, and the System seemed to agree, periodically awarding SP for [Query Formulation: Causal Investigation].
His burgeoning skills converged in moments of simple problem-solving. One afternoon, his favourite red wooden car, propelled by an overly enthusiastic push, rolled under the large, heavy sofa in the living room. It stopped tantalizingly visible but well out of arm's reach.
Tom toddled over and peered into the shadowy gap. He got down on his hands and knees and reached. His fingers brushed the smooth wood, but he couldn't get a grip. [Problem Assessed: Object Retrieval - Limited Access] noted the System.
He sat back, surveying the situation. Direct approach failed. What else? He spotted a longer wooden block nearby, part of his building set. He picked it up, got back down, and tried to use it like a pool cue to push the car out. He managed to nudge it slightly, but the angle was wrong; he couldn't get enough leverage to push it clear. [Attempt: Tool Use (Block) - Ineffective Due to Angle/Force.]
He needed a different approach. Access. The gap under the sofa was low, maybe 15cm. Could he fit? He lay flat on his stomach, arms stretched forward. He began to wriggle forward, pushing with his feet. The rug fibres tickled his nose. Dust bunnies loomed like tumbleweeds. It was dark and cramped. He shuffled forward, feeling the underside of the sofa frame just above his back. A little further... His fingers closed around the smooth, cool wood of the toy car. Victory! He carefully wriggled backwards, dragging his prize with him, emerging slightly dusty but triumphant.
[Problem Solving Sequence Complete: Object Retrieval Under Obstacle.]
[Strategy: Direct Reach (Fail) -> Tool Use (Fail) -> Environmental Navigation/Access (Success).]
[Resourcefulness +0.1 SP, Problem Solving +0.1 SP]
A trip to Rooigrond Park offered a larger arena for his developing abilities. The playground bustled with the energy of other children, a chaotic symphony of shouts and laughter. Tom was more interested in the equipment. He tackled the small plastic slide first. Climbing the three steps required concentration (Objective progress!). Sitting at the top felt surprisingly high. He pushed off, the short, fast slide ending with a gentle bump in the sandpit. [Activity Logged: Slide Descent. G-Force Data (Low) Recorded.]
Elena pushed him on the swings, higher and higher. He gripped the chains tightly, feeling the rhythmic acceleration and momentary weightlessness at the apex of each arc. The System struggled to make sense of it, flashing [Analyzing Complex Motion Vectors...]. He then spotted a low, colourful climbing frame made of sturdy plastic domes and connecting tunnels. It looked far more interesting. He toddled over, grasped the lowest handhold, and tentatively placed a foot on the first dome. This was a real climbing challenge.
He spent the rest of the park visit navigating the lower sections of the frame, figuring out hand and foot placements, the System logging his progress towards the climbing objective. He barely noticed the other children, except when one tried to grab his red toy car, which he clutched possessively, issuing a firm "No! My car!" before moving away. Social skills were clearly lagging behind motor skills.
Back home that evening, tired but satisfied after a day of running, climbing, questioning, and problem-solving, Tom did a mental SP check. Running objectives had yielded 0.6 SP, climbing attempts added 0.4 SP, language milestones maybe 0.3 SP, the problem-solving gave 0.2 SP, plus various micro-bonuses. He had roughly 1.5 SP.
He accessed the System Menu, navigating to the 'Skills' tab. It shimmered into view in his mind – a long list, almost entirely greyed out. Names like 'Advanced Tyre Management', 'Wet Weather Mastery', 'Overtake Boost', 'Qualifying Pace Optimization' were visible but inaccessible, marked with high SP costs and stat prerequisites he couldn't dream of meeting yet. But near the top, one entry caught his eye, its requirements less daunting:
[Skill: Basic Balance Boost (Passive)]
[Effect: Slightly increases stability during dynamic movement (walking, running, turning). Reduces chances of minor stumbles.]
[Cost: 5.0 SP]
[Requirements: Reflexes Lvl 2 (Met)]
Five points. It was a huge amount compared to what he'd earned so far. Upgrading Stamina or Durability again would cost 1.5 SP each and offer immediate, tangible benefits. Saving five points would take weeks, maybe months, of dedicated objective completion.
But a skill. An active enhancement, not just a raw stat boost. Something directly related to balance, to car control, even if applied now to toddler movements. It felt like the first real step towards the specialized abilities of an F1 driver.
The choice was clear. The grind continued, but now with a specific, tantalizing goal in sight. Every point earned from now on was a down payment on better balance, on shaving virtual tenths off his clumsy toddler 'lap times'. He had 1.5 SP saved, 3.5 more to go. The chequered flag for this particular objective seemed distant, but for the first time, he could see it.