by David Petrie
Carver shook his head and sat down.
Kira motioned to join him but stopped, almost forgetting to smooth her dress behind her so that it didn't bunch up as she sat. She was getting used to the garment. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Suddenly, the world around her began to move. She froze on the sofa while her surroundings swiped to the side at an impossible speed. There was no wind or inertia. In fact, she got the sense that she wasn't even moving. Her fingers clung to her seat for balance anyway.
The red sky blurred into a white ceiling and the rocky ground became a surface of smooth cement. Walls materialized from the ground up as the world slowed to a stop.
"A little warning next time," she said with a hint of irritation as she sat in the windowless room that now surrounded her.
"Sorry," Carver said out of expectation more than anything else. He dropped his tablet on the table unceremoniously and leaned back.
Kira eyed the device.
"You wouldn't know what to do with it." He didn’t bother to move it out of her reach.
She returned her attention to him. "So how long have you planned this for?"
"From the beginning," he answered as if it was obvious. "As I said, I created this system to do more than play games. Before I had even met Milo, I was running tests for this on small groups. But things were too slow, and I didn't have the funds to do much more. I needed to expand and increase my testing pool. Noctem did that for me."
"So, the whole game is just one big experiment. To do what?"
Carver's eyes focused in on hers. "To find you."
She snorted at his seriousness. "Yeah, I know all about the little obsession you have with me. So my willpower value is all over the place. Why does that make me special?"
"First of all, you're not special. Not really. Since getting access to the millions of players that Noctem had to offer, I was able to find plenty of others like you. You were just the easiest one to get Milo to choose, so here we are."
"Well, you don't have to be a dick about it." Kira frowned and turned away.
He ignored her. "And second, calling it willpower is misleading. That's an arbitrary name that Milo thought of. It doesn't really mean what you or he thinks it does." He leaned forward. "No, it's more than that. It's a representation of you as a whole. Your thoughts, emotions, fears, creativity. It's everything that makes you, you. In short, it's your identity."
"Ha!" Kira gave a mirthless laugh. "Have you seen me?" She ruffled her dress. "I mean, I'm not exactly a guy with a strong sense of identity?"
Carver looked annoyed as if she had just said something stupid. "Technically speaking, gender is strictly not binary. That's just how the majority of people think based how they are taught. So when you declare that you're a guy, I have to ask, are you?"
Kira looked at him incredulously. It was a simple question. One that she would have answered on reflex, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she stopped, finding the words missing. Her mouth remained open as she followed his line of thought. She remembered back to when she had first logged in as Kira. It hadn't really felt any different. Sure, she had been more comfortable expressing herself differently which was what created her as a character, but she hadn't felt any more or less tied to her new body than she had to her old. Eventually, she just thought of both bodies as hers. Her mind ran around the thought in circles of belated self-discovery. Then it was obvious.
It wasn't really new information. She had known she was different. She just hadn't ever defined it. She hadn't needed to, and it had been easier not to. If there was one thing she had a habit of, it was doing what's easy. She dropped her head back against the couch with a sigh. "Like I didn't have enough to think about," she responded, not really answering his question but making it clear that he was on the right path before adding, "You suck, you know that?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don't be overdramatic; there's nothing wrong with lacking a gender. In fact, that's actually a small part what makes you useful."
Kira snorted. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that you have all the right aspects to make up a strong and complex personality, but none of it’s tied to anything. You are simply you, so it doesn't matter if you're male or female or even human, for that matter. And that makes you adaptable, which is why your willpower stat fluctuates more than others. Not only can you influence the system, but you also let it have more control over you as well. And for what we're trying to do here, you'll need both. You have to be strong enough not to lose yourself but also flexible enough not to break."
"And I'm no good to you broken."
He nodded. "And that's why this quest had to be hard on you. It was designed to push your limits and force you to explore your concept of who you are. Like stretching before a race."
"Yeah, thanks a lot for making me cry. I hope that makes you feel real good about yourself." Kira made sure her tone was extra snarky.
"That was unavoidable.” Carver didn’t seem like he cared. "I need this project to succeed, and at this point, so do you."
"And what is this project? What did you do to me?" She let a bit of anger taint her voice.
He paused to choose his words as if being intentionally vague, "I've helped you open a door."
"A door to what?"
"To your mind."
"And what if I just close it back up? Lock it tight and throw away the key?" She gestured tossing something over her shoulder as she leaned forward.
Carver folded his hands together. "That isn't really an option."
"Is that because I can't or because you won't let me." She narrowed her eyes.
"Both actually. There is more at stake than you're aware. And if this works, you may be able to help a lot of people. People that would never have had a chance without some sacrifice on your end. So, I'm sorry, but giving you a choice is not possible."
Kira grimaced at his choice of words. "Sacrifice? How about you do it your damn self."
"I lack the necessary flexibility needed of a proper subject. Besides, I've already given up too much of myself to this system." He sank in his seat.
"And how did that happen?" She arched an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her.
His expression changed, making him almost look sincere. "I started developing this system only a couple years before I met Milo."
"So?"
"So, doesn't it strike you as odd that in such a short amount of time, we could have built a system that is literally decades ahead of anything else we currently have?"
She thought about it, tapping her foot against the coffee table. "I suppose."
"Good, because it should." He raised up, puffing out his chest. "Why no one has asked that question yet, I have no idea. The truth is that it took over seventy-five years to develop."
Kira cocked her head to the side to do the math. "So what? You're gonna tell me you came from the future?"
He laughed for the first time in their conversation. "No, that would be ridiculous." He leaned back. "Remember I told you that time flowed differently here?"
"Yeah."
"I haven’t told anyone that detail before. In fact, I kept it pretty well hidden. Not even Milo knows. I always left the flow of time alone when others were in here testing." He rubbed a hand on his pale chin. "You can get a lot done in a short amount of time when you can stretch a week into years. The downside is that, over that time, being alone, you can lose yourself, or at least, I did. I don't remember who I was back when I started or what I cared about. All I have now is a goal. To be honest, I don't know what I'll do if this succeeds. I won't have a purpose. I might just break. But I can't stop. And I can't let you stop either."
"At least that explains your lack of social skills," Kira commented with her most irritating smile.
Carver laughed again. "True enough."
A small part of her wanted to comfort the man who now seemed more broken than threatening. "Is that what could happen to me if I don't continue?"
He
sighed. "It's one of the possibilities. There are others. None are good."
They both grew quiet.
Kira should have tried to run or fight, but deep down, she knew it was already too late. Going back wasn't an option. Plus, she could already feel it, something out there in the system. The something that had found her when she pushed her will into it earlier. She hadn't realized it, but it had been there, reaching out from the dream ever since. Now, in the calm of the Sphere, it was clearer. She couldn't ignore it.
She let out a long sigh, sounding defeated. "If I can't go back, I might as well go forward."
"Good," he said, returning to his normal tone, though it was warmer than before.
"So, what do I have to do?"
He picked up his tablet and glanced over some readouts before looking back to her. "To be honest, I'm not sure."
"What?" Kira sat up straight, her mouth hanging open.
"I've never come this far before, so from here, it will be up to you and the system to work something out." He stood from his place on the sofa.
Kira tensed as his actions told her that her time was coming to an end. "Did you find out what you needed from me?" She got to her feet, following his lead.
He paused before answering, "No. But I think things will be okay. I'm not really one to trust my gut, but I feel that you were the right choice."
"Any advice?" She attempted to stall.
Carver tapped his chin with his tablet, then spoke, "It's not about overpowering the system like it was down in the lost city with the dragons. That was just to get you ready, to help you open the door. For what comes next, you'll have to let go."
Kira wrinkled her nose. "I don't like the sound of that."
"You'll do fine." He gave her an affectionate smile like he was teaching her to ride a bike.
She reached out to grab his arm. "What about my friends?"
He looked down at her hand. "You'll have to find them on your own. Once you do, you'll be ready. Think of it as a final warm-up," he said matter-of-factly.
She let go and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, and don't take too long. They're all currently trapped in their worst memories," he finished as he turned away from her.
"Wait, what?" she blurted out as the room around her vanished. She wasn't sure if the world had moved or if she had. All she knew was that she was back under the red sky of the blank Sphere, alone. "Great, just great."
A few minutes of nervous pacing later, Kira sat on the ground, wishing Carver could have at least left her a sofa.
"Okay, might as well try." She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp air around her. She stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Her eyes closed, almost motionless, pushing out with her mind. She remembered what it had been like earlier in the lost city when she had sent her thoughts into the system. Somehow, it had accepted her, letting her in and embracing her until she could feel it all around her. Now, she could only feel it in the distance of the Sphere, drifting without purpose as if it had no more idea of why it was there than she did. It was stronger now, but it seemed less accepting, pushing back against her thoughts in reflex. Her brow furrowed as it matched her like a mirror. It wasn't working. Her mind just wasn't that strong.
Whatever was out there, it seemed to want as much from her as she did from it. She thought back to what Carver had said, that it wasn't about overpowering. It was about letting go. She had ignored his advice, not liking how it sounded, but now, it echoed in her head. She still didn't like it, but what choice did she have. She had to trust that it wouldn't tear her apart.
Kira exhaled and opened her eyes to look up at the sky above her. It seemed to look back at her. She leaned back, placing her hands on the ground behind for support as she laid down flat. She let her body and mind relax and stared into the crimson light, almost letting it consume her. The ground against her back faded away as she drifted from her body, the whole of herself resting against the membrane of system's resistance. She didn't push, and neither did it. Instead, it waited.
She swallowed hard to keep back her fear as the thing pressed against all that she was through the open door in her mind. Then she invited it inside.
Back in the Nemo Unit, Milo stood helpless. He had logged out when he’d received the message from the techs monitoring the team, telling him that they had transferred to an unknown system.
The medical staff rushed equipment around the room to where Seth lay in his powered down rig, forcing Milo to stand off to the side. His eyes locked on the readout of the main console that showed the party's vitals as guilt rolled over him.
Kira had flat-lined.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Max sat in the small enclosed space of the wooden playhouse, staring out at the empty playground. An ache of loneliness crept into his chest, bringing him back to the time in his life before he had met Kira. He bounced Jasper, the basketball, against the crisscrossing beams that made up the wall and wondered how many days he had spent hiding like that back then. He wasn't weak, not anymore, but that didn't change the fact that he used to sit alone every day at school, trying to go unnoticed. It didn't change the fact that it still bothered him.
He caught the orange rubber ball with both hands as it bounced back to him. Then he pulled it in close to rest his chin on its worn, dimpled surface. He was close to giving up. He had tried to leave but found that all directions led back to his starting point. Either the Sphere had a way of creating an infinite number of playgrounds, or it just kept loading the same one in his path. He wasn't sure which. Either way, it didn't matter. He wasn't getting out, and that terrified him. Not because he was trapped, but because it was only a matter of time before it broke him. It was a realization that shook him to the core. It had been too easy to beat him.
He let out a defeated sigh. From what he could tell, he had been there for at least a few hours. “I guess it's game over for Noctem." He acknowledged the fact that the mission clock must have run out long ago. He paused for a long while unsure of what it all meant.
"I wouldn't be so sure," a voice said from outside.
Max looked through openings in the wooden structure for its source. There was no one there. He sighed again, figuring that the time had come for him to start losing it. A rustling came from behind him, like Kira smoothing out her dress to sit down. It struck him as odd that his mind would choose to hallucinate a sound that he had only heard a couple times.
"Can you hear me?" the gentle voice said again, this time from close behind him as if she was sitting against his back, just outside the house.
He laughed. "Yeah, but to be honest, I prefer my hallucinations to keep quiet." Her imagined voice said nothing for a while, and Max placed his chin back on the basketball in his arms. "That's better."
"What's up with the cake?" asked imaginary Kira.
Max sat up, confused. "What cake?" he asked back in annoyance at the idea that his mind couldn't even be bothered to give him a hallucination that made sense.
"Umm, sorry. I wasn't talking to you. Hang on, Max," the voice said.
His eyes widened. "Holy crap! Is that you, Kira? Where are you?"
"Oh, crap," Kira’s voice said, sounding flustered. "Everybody, stop talking for a minute."
Max closed his mouth.
"Kegan, shut up. Everybody means you, too." Her voice still sounded close.
Max looked for her but saw nothing. He reached out toward where he thought she would be, and for a moment, he touched something warm and soft.
She squealed with abrupt laughter. "What are you doing, man; you're lucky that was my back." She paused. "Okay, Farn, that is not my back, quit making it weird. I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."
Max laughed.
Kira blew out a huff. "Okay, people. I get it. I can see you, but you can't see me. You can stop poking at me. I'm kind of in five places at once. It's confusing enough without having to deal with that." A second of silence went by. "Kegan, if your hand moves one
more inch you're gonna pull back a stump."
Max climbed out of the fake wooden house, still holding the basketball absentmindedly. Then the playground was gone and so were the trees and pavement and everything else. In their place was Kira standing under a crimson sky. His eyes welled up the moment he saw her, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
An overjoyed Farnsworth rushed past him to embrace the fairy, picking her up in a tight hug.
Max glanced around. The others were all there too.
"Okay, okay, you can put me down," Kira complained.
Farn placed her feet back on the ground and wiped a tear from her eye.
"What's with the ball?" Kira arched an eyebrow at Max.
He looked down, realizing that he had somehow brought his basketball shaped friend with him. "Ahh," he said, unsure of how to explain. "This is Jasper."
She shook her head at him. "Okay, that's a little weird."
"Never mind that, how did you find us?" Max asked.
She looked puzzled, like she didn't know what to say. "Umm, I don't really know how to explain it." She looked up to the sky. "I'm not alone anymore."
Max eyed her with suspicion but didn't push the subject. They could talk about it later. "So, what happens now? I mean we ran out of time, right?"
"No. Time doesn't work the same here. This all could be happening in just a few minutes, so we should still have plenty left." She stopped as if hearing something that he couldn't. She seemed a little out of it.
Max bounced Jasper once. "That's good."
"And trippy," Ginger added while Kegan nodded in agreement.
Kira's attention wandered. It seemed to take effort for her to pull herself back to them. Like she was trying to think about too much at once, and her brain couldn't handle it. She looked serious. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I know it hasn't been fun for you here."
"Better late than never." Max shrugged, pretending like he wasn't just about to lose his mind moments before.