Mrs Zimmerman stood in a cobblestoned alley, shaded between taller buildings. There was only one direction to take, so she took it. One real step took her into a wider lane. Her movement also took her closer to her living room wall. A red X flashed in front of her and a CAUTION sign flashed.

“That’s right,” she thought, “I can think my way around. Pity my thinking is stinking.”

She wobbled as her balance fought between the visual sensations of movement while she also stood still.

“Hang on Grandma!” George put a steadying arm around her and he and Sadie eased her into her big easy chair.

“Are you okay in there Mrs Z?” the young woman asked.

“Fine, fine,” she replied briskly, not wanting them to take away her new toy when she’d barely gotten to use it.

George and Sadie chattered about visual stimuli and balance, he was apparently demonstrating how hard it was to stand on one leg with your eyes shut. She focused on the virtual world and their conversation faded away as she determined to master the interface.

The world she stood in was a mixture of modern but mostly very old buildings. All down the lane unique buildings stood shoulder to shoulder made from stone and wood and stained glass. Little gargoyle heads decorated copper spouting, and carved door frames surrounded ornate carved doors. When a door was plain it was painted a glossy plum, or green or blue.

“This is the best interface EVER” chirped Mrs Zimmerman. There was no reply. Her grandson and Sadie were deep in talk about code. She left them behind on her old comfy couch and took more mental steps forward to walk the cobbled streets of Graz.

Yes, actually cobbled. The contours of the rounded stones lining the ground felt uneven beneath her feet. She peered down to look at them. The cobbles were grey with quartz flecks, in between each stone was ages of dirt packed between each stone. Green moss and grey lichen flecked the cobble where it met stone walls and was sheltered from traffic. A little eco-system o its own in the cracks. Nice attention to detail. She wiggled her house slippers. They wouldn’t last long. She needed adventuring boots.

There was a hill at the center of the town rising above the roof tops. It was as tall as a modern skyscraper and covered the space of several city blocks. It was studded with trees and brick walls and small buildings. It was incongruous to find one hill – didn’t they usually occur in groups? Still, it gave her a good reference point, perhaps she’d see how far she could walk around it.

These slippers really were a nuisance though.

As if the town agreed, she spied the cobblers shop. The glass front window was puckered and misted with age so she could only see the promise of goods, but a wrought iron bracket hung above the door, and from it she could clearly see the image of a boot.

“Perfect!”

She marched over and rattling at a cold brass doorknob but it didn’t open, and she couldn’t make her way inside. She stood back, and contemplated digging up a loose cobble and pitching it through the glass, but it was a very pretty window.

She resolved to keep exploring and steered onward. Around a corner the lane emptied into a town square with a fountain at the center. More quirky buildings surrounded the square on three sides, but the illusion of the virtual town was broken on the fourth side.

On that side the buildings were strangely half made. At the base there was great detail but at waist height they were blurry shapes. Four Custom Autonomous Task Systems were standing beside the unfinished buildings.

“Why have you stopped?” Mrs Z asked.

Thing 1 shuffled forward.

“Greetings aged citizen with [occasional failed system recall]. We have been instructed to cease making order and await instruction. We are awaiting instructions."

“That’s dementia to you CAT. I’m demented. But I’m fully able to give you some orders.”

Three CATs susurrated in unison, cobalt legs clicked on the cobbles while the smallest one leapt onto the largest, making it clear they were braced to build and repair.

Mrs Z’s brain shot through with adrenalin and that rusty part that thought about possibilities started turning ideas slowly over.

Meanwhile the things conferred.

Thing 1: Identify and understand ‘dementia’.

Thing 2: a chronic or persistent disorder of the mental processes caused by brain disease or injury and marked by memory disorders, personality changes, and impaired reasoning.

Thing 3: Is this citizen able to give instructions?

Thing2: CATs should maintain health and safety protocols at all times.

Thing1: CATS main directive is to make order from chaos.

Thing3: Hypothesis: one with chronic or persistent disorder of the mental processes caused by brain disease or injury and marked by memory disorders, personality changes, and impaired reasoning may not perfectly convey orders.

Things2: I am project manager. I will identify health and safety protocols. Orders can be adapted.

Thing3: agreed

Thing4: agreed

Thing1: Demented citizen please state your directives and we will consider them.

But Mrs Zimmerman had moved off. The things trotted after her.

Back at the cobblers shop, she rattled the door once more.

“I want adventuring shoes,” she told the Things, who instantly agreed that proper footwear was essential for health and safety.

The brass nob turned with a click and she entered a small reception area with a comfy chair. A story-book like cobbler shuffled forward from the back of the shop, a short person in a leather apron.

“Greetings demented citizen, allow me to assist you with footwear,” said the cobbler, gesturing to the chair and sounding a lot like an AI.

“Leather boots please – comfy but durable,” chirped Mrs Zimmerman.

The cobbler produced a set of boots and fitted them on her feet, then stood back.

“There you are, you may continue your adventure.”

“Wait,” Mrs Zimmerman looked around. “Shouldn’t I pay?”

The cobbler danced into the back of the shop for a second and then walked back in a more regular way.

“You do not have any currency, and no payment is required.”

Mrs Zimmerman wiggled her toes in her boots. She sighed, these CATs were rubes.

“I think perhaps I have something to trade.”

Three more cobblers appeared from the back of the shop, identical, but of different sizes. They looked eagerly at their customer as she continued.

“I’m going to teach you how a world like this can work, then we’ll have some adventures. And probably a nap.”

‘You,” she pointed at Thing3, “Bring up some more information about this town. Let’s see what else we can plagiarize. Nearly everything I know about Graz came from the back of a jigsaw box.”

Some time later a large panther trotted out of the cobblers shop with a woman in sturdy boots. She climbed on the beast.

“Let’s get to the Armory,” the rider said. Three smaller cats followed along.

“I think your grandmother is asleep,” Sadie prompted George.

“We should check what she’s been up to in there,” he said. “And get some lunch.”

Thing 1 gains experience points in commerce [basic crafter] achieved

Thing 2 gains experience points in language, nuance and comprehension [conversationalist] achieved

Thing 3 gains experience in world building [fantastic historian] class

Thing 4 gains experience in animal husbandry [Styrian Panther] class