by K. T. Hanna
“Were you there when I died too?” Nothing like being up front. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted to say, but that was how it came out.
Belius hesitated. “In one form, yes.”
She rolled her eyes and half smiled. “I know what you are, Bel, I’m not stupid.”
His shoulders lost their tension and he gestured around him. “This is more me than anything else. More what I aspire to be anyway.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” But she didn’t expect an answer. She took the proffered scrolls and stashed them into her inventory without looking. “That’s all of them, right? No surprises or missing vital pieces of information I need or else I’ll blow up myself and my friends?”
Belius had the grace to chuckle. “No. Not this lot. I’m not wired that way. Riasli shouldn’t have been either.”
Murmur hesitated, but chose to barrel on, because if one of the AIs was going to know about it, it would be Bel. “Speaking of which, should she be able to, well, push past my shielding and speak directly into my mind?”
Belius balked, confusion flitting through his expression like a wave of butterflies. “No. She shouldn’t. In fact, she couldn’t have in her initial incarnation, but however she has reached the stage she is at right now? That’s a story I don’t have the script for.”
“Yeah. I thought it might be something you’re still looking into.” Murmur couldn’t quite bite back on her disappointment that Belius wasn’t swooping in to save her again. She’d gotten used to him and Telvar just being there in the nick of time. Granted, more often than not she had to save herself, but still.
She paused, glancing around the office. Talking about her side effects made her feel off, but she needed to know if it was normal or just her. Although she’d never witnessed her friends experiencing them, so she was quite certain it was just her.
“This death thing—I’m not sure it’s working the way it should be. I keep re-experiencing the death blow. Not the actual death, but the injury that led to it. The wound, I guess.” She trailed off, still watching him closely to see what effect her words had on him. Telvar had even had more of a reaction than this.
Belius studied her with a frown, like he was trying to envisage what she was talking about, only his eyes unfocused and she knew he had to be looking through logs of some sort trying to ascertain more about what she’d mentioned.
Finally, he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “There are some fluctuations in the algorithms that keep you bound—that make up the you that resides in here. If that makes sense.”
He hesitated, his pupils moving so quickly they’d look like they were standing still if she wasn’t looking so closely. “You’re stable enough for now, but there are new readings on your brain-waves. Fluctuations that shouldn’t be happening, or more accurately, that hadn’t previously occurred in your brain activity.”
Maybe that meant she was waking up, and Murmur wasn’t so sure how to feel about it. He smiled at her, like he could read her thoughts again and she jumped when he spoke.
“We’ll—”
“You’ll look into it. I know. I know.” And she resented every single time they chose those words. She had to fight the anger welling inside. Instead, she forced a smile onto her face. “It’s all good. I know you’re working on it.”
She really hoped he’d given her everything she needed, because she didn’t want to stay a moment longer than she had to. A quick glance told her that everything was covered. From Sinuous to her normal spells, just not her grounding ones from the druidic circle.
“I’ll answer any questions you have.” He spoke the words softly and she looked at him, thoughts racing through her mind.
“You’ll answer them in a way that advantages you. You may mean well, Bel, but you’re a long way from understanding us, because you mix your needs and desires into everything you do. Makes a lot of what you’ve done seem very selfish.” She shook her head, aware her tongue was far looser than usual, but she didn’t care. Her mind was awash with thoughts from the outside of this room, with NPCs and players alike trying to clamber over her shielding.
Murmur sighed when it looked like he wanted to rebut what she’d said, but she held up a hand and spoke. “I realize it’s not something you’ve meant to cultivate, but I’m hesitant to come to you for things like this that I need to see someone for because I can’t trust you. I may like you, and even understand why you do the things you do, but I don’t trust you, not after what you did with Jirald.”
His eyes clouded over and for a few moments Belius’s expression was sealed off, completely and utterly closed to her. Then, finally, he nodded. “I think I get it. I apologize for deceiving you, but at the same time, I need those shards, and if you won’t get them for me, I have to reach out and make sure someone does.”
Murmur could feel the throb from the ones she’d already retrieved, echoing through to her from the guild vault that sat directly at her fingertips, that she could call up at any moment. She resisted the urge to pull it up and just hand him what he wanted, knowing that even with her shielding, she could sense his persuasion. Up high and pushing at her, willing her to do what he’d asked.
“You just don’t give up, even when you should.” She reached down to pet Snowy, glad of his grounding presence, of the floor beneath her, of the dirt under that. Everything about the way she stood brought her back to the moment. “Stop trying to strong arm me, and I think we’ll get on a lot better than we have been. And if I’m right, I think Somnia needs us to get on right now. I think it’s a necessity.”
His eyes shifted colors, and finally he nodded. “You’re right. Truce?”
“Truce.” And while she stated the words, she was quite certain he hadn’t meant a syllable. While Belius didn’t want her to die, he didn’t seem to care if she actually lived in any form of the word. Everything for him was a means to an end, even if the end result required her to disappear.
Finished with all of her spell upgrading, Murmur sat on the rim of the fountain, lost in thoughts of who to trust with the knowledge that her mind was able to perceive so much more now. She could trust Sin, that wasn’t even a question. Maybe Havoc, perhaps Merlin. Devlish and Beastial just weren’t the take seriously types until they were, and then they got way overprotective. And letting Telvar know the full extent? Although surely, he’d figure it out at some stage since she was fairly certain he kept tabs on her. He already did though, didn’t he?
Wouldn’t it show up in brain activity? Was her brain being more active, or was that just a thought because of her currently predicament. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, wishing that she could just clear her thoughts long enough so she could sort everything out logically. But the sensations running through her were anything but logical. They held emotions that were and weren’t hers, thoughts that flitted by so quickly she’d think she was losing her mind if she didn’t know better.
“You look deep in thought.” The ranger plopped down beside her, his left arm leaning on his bow propping him up against the ground.
Merlin it was, then. “I am. Sort of, I guess. In other people’s thoughts anyway.” She smiled in a self-deprecating manner, watching him for signs of understanding.
“Other people’s thoughts now, Mur?” He looked at her quizzically. “You sure you’re just not staying in there too long?”
She knew he meant that to be helpful, but she’d even logged out and slept this time around. Maybe he wasn’t okay to tell. “I’ve slept some.”
He nodded. “So what voices? They don’t, tell you to do weird stuff, do they? Like I’m pretty certain if they’re telling you to kill me, they’re totally wrong.”
Murmur couldn’t help laughing. “No, not those sorts of voices. Like, random and fleeting thoughts that seem to escape whatever protections they otherwise have. Or else, that I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. They
’re arbitrary thoughts that rarely have anything relevant for me, but the point is I can hear them.”
She took a breath and continued. “Sometimes I feel like some of them are directed at me, but they dash past so quickly I can’t quite grasp them.”
“Have you spoke to Telvar about it?” Merlin spoke gently, like he was scared he’d spook her if he didn’t.
“No. I’m not sure how to approach the subject. Besides, I want to see how long it takes him to tell me.” She wasn’t sure that came out the right way, but it was true.
“They would tell you about this?”
Murmur nodded. “I know they’re tracking my brain activity, and I know they can see when it fluctuates. There’s no way it doesn’t fluctuate when some of this shit happens to me. When I push with it, when I sense things and amplify. So why haven’t they mentioned this to me? Why aren’t they speaking to me about it? I know these damned headsets were created to monitor brain activity and compute results. What aren’t they fucking telling me?”
She had to take another breath, to regain control of the things she was saying, experiencing.
“Do you really think that’s what they’re doing, Mur?” Sinister was there and her voice alone soothed Murmur in a way few other things could.
“I don’t know, I just know that I believe they should have known ahead of time that this was affecting me.” Shouldn’t they have? After all, weren’t her thoughts the subject of scrutiny? And now it was Sinister and Merlin. Maybe it was the universe trying to tell her she should just trust her friends. That or Somnia was telling her to.
Sinister sat down on the other side of Mur, linking her fingers with their hands. “I’m not sure what they’re doing to or for you. I have no idea how all this works, but I do know that you should listen to your gut, go with the feelings about these intruding thoughts. You have to differentiate them yourself, and you can’t rely on the AIs to do that for you. Your thoughts are your own. Take charge of them.”
Mur sighed. “But these aren’t my thoughts. These are thoughts leaking through to me from other people, other players, and NPCs.”
“And what do you think about them?” Sinister’s tone didn’t waver, her confidence in Murmur shone through her words.
“Well, I want to know more. I want to understand how and why this works, and just what has changed.” A spark of clarity was beginning to form in her mind.
“See.” Sinister smiled and Merlin reflected the same expression. “Go with your gut.”
Murmur’s first reaction was to scoff at the suggestion, after all, what could Sinister know about it. But then reason won over and Murmur smiled at her friend, pulling her in for a hug. “Thanks, Sin. I should always know to go to you first.”
“Yes, you should.” Sinister glared over at Merlin. “Stop trying to usurp my best friend status.”
Sinister clung to Murmur in a vice like hug and Merlin laughed. “No one can even attempt to replace you Sin. Pretty sure you two will remain attached at the hip for all eternity.”
He sounded happy, and Murmur wished she could sort the threads out in her head. Merlin was happy. Sinister was too, if mildly jealous. Murmur closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, sitting smack bang there in the middle of Stellaein.
She concentrated on the voices around her, picking out and discarding the fleeting words that leaked through, allowing them to push into the background murmur instead of the frontal assault of sound.
It allowed her to separate different people and different peoples, the people she knew—like Beastial and Rashlyn who were on their way right now. Like Havoc, just as he logged in, irritated that it had taken him so long to get back. She could feel the frustration emanating off each of them as they logged in, with underlying reasons that had nothing to do with her.
It wasn’t so much the words that she heard but the color of the thoughts, the range of the emotions that affected each and every person she passed over.
She opened her eyes, a sudden calmness washing over her with all the thoughts and feelings sorted neatly into drawers she could shut at any time. It was far more control than she’d had before. She just needed to develop more ways to cope with the influx. The more people were in a city, the more she needed these reinforcements.
“It’s okay. I’ve got this.” Standing up, she tugged Sinister with her, keeping her against her side. Then, suddenly, “Do you ever get side effects from dying in game?”
Murmur needed to hear that her death experience had been different.
“Side effects?” Sinister pulled away, eyeing Murmur. “No. Sometimes I get a headache, but there’s no lingering anything. Why?”
Murmur smiled as the rest of the group gathered with them by the fountain. “Just curious.”
She knew she’d been right. She’d never seen anyone else experiencing the strange after effects she was experiencing, but confirming it just made it that much spookier. Just how deeply was she attached to Somnia, and what would happen next time the world shut down?
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Conference Room
Day Eighteen
Laria placed her reports strategically on the visual interface that Davenport and his lawyers would go through once they’d arrived. She hadn’t slept yet; she hadn’t been home in two days. Shayla was getting worried about her, concerned about the length of time between resting bouts. But Laria only brushed her off. It wasn’t worth both of them worrying. She only hoped she’d managed to include the data in such a way that they could prevent them finding out about Wren for just a little longer.
If her daughter could die in-game then it was just a step from her being able to log out. Even if she was having ridiculous side effects, side effects that shouldn’t even be possible. Laria had to look at it from different perspectives, and there were certain things she couldn’t envision happening in reality. But she wasn’t in reality, she wedged between somehow. Long-term effects of VR weren’t even something they had results on yet. Staying in there for months at a time wasn’t only ill advised. She had no idea what the end result could be for her kid.
“It’s okay, Laria. We’ve got this.” Shayla exuded a calming presence, much like David, except her friend never seemed to have the same level of patience her partner did.
Laria just nodded, trying to save her voice for the parts where she’d have to speak and keep it together. The parts where she’d have to resist the urge to beg them to just figure out a way to retrieve her daughter. Wren wasn’t going to be a guinea pig, not for her, not for anyone.
“You know we’re early, right?” Shayla approached cautiously, like she was trying to discern just how crazy Laria might be that day.
“Of course, I know that. Better to be prepared.” Laria bit her lip, inhaling the calm in the room. She could do this. She could keep her shit together. Not only for Wren, but for herself and Shayla.
“Let’s down some coffee and wait for the entourage.” Shayla nudged Laria with one hand, and Laria looked down to find her holding out a coffee. It smelled perfect. Just the right balance of cream and coffee, no sugar. Just a touch of the cream was enough to detract from the one hundred percent bitterness of the usual taste.
“Thanks.” And after one hot sip, Laria felt a thousand times better. She could chase James and his idiocy out of her thoughts; shake off the discomfort that still lingered at his forced entrance into her office. Shayla made the office more bearable, safer.
They sat there in comfortable silence as they waited on Davenport and his men. They didn’t have to wait long. Not twenty minutes had passed before Edward Davenport popped his head around the door and smiled at them.
“Hi, ladies. Good to see you both. Thank you for attending this and taking the time out when I know how much you both have on your plate.” He walked into the room alone, and Laria
couldn’t hide the surprise on her face.
“Don’t worry.” He laughed slightly. “They’re coming, I just wanted to get here a few minutes early. Sometimes it’s restricting for me to have so many people around all the time.”
He glanced at the display and frowned, triggering his own set of implants with a slight touch of one finger behind his ear so he could engage with the information. “This is fascinating.”
He whispered the words, his eyes falling on a couple of the lines, the Fable lines. Laria had chosen to bring them to the fore so that he could see that while Wren’s were abnormal, they weren’t that abnormal compared to the rest of her friends, and many other gamers in the top three guilds. The frown on his face deepened and he turned fast, his gaze coming to rest on Laria. While she knew she wasn’t alone, and Teddy wasn’t James, Laria felt a surge of panic run through her again.
“Get that data out of there. Wren’s and Fable’s. They’re abnormal, they’re anomalous, and exactly what I asked you to include, but I want to be the only one who sees this, do you understand?”
Laria took a step back, nodding her head while not understanding at all. “Sorry, sir. You asked, and we delivered.”
He chuckled dryly, his eyes darting toward the entrance to the room. “It’s okay, and you passed my test. I knew you’d figure out a way to include out-of-the-ordinary elements to the game, but I don’t want everyone to see that. Especially not after the damned incident with James last night. I want you to sit down with me and only me and explain what it is I’m seeing. I’ll delay my entourage. We are...”
He glanced at the door again, and lowered his voice so it was barely audible. “We aren’t alone in this investment, and it’s imperative that we figure out whatever is causing these glitches before something bigger than any of us in this room decides to step in and try and take over.”