by Rachel Ford
“Vanished?” The skepticism in the other man’s tone was palpable. It rolled off the hillsides, down from the heavens and up from the river. “No way. That’s not possible.”
Jack frowned up at the sky. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he looked at the sky. It must have been some primordial vestige of the earliest intelligence, or a throwback to the first humanoids, trembling in their caves staring up at the raging heavens trying to find the face of the gods. In a way, trapped in the game as he was, the supervisors filled the role that those early humanoids assigned to their gods of thunder: they could create, and kill, and alter with but a thought. Well, not quite a thought; there’d be a slight delay as the primate brain translated the thought to character strings, which then got typed into the servers that made up Jack’s existence now. And Richard was about the furthest thing from a god Jack could imagine.
Still, conceptually, the supervisors – even Richard – filled something of the role. Which probably explained Jack’s attention to the heavens.
Or not, since there was nothing trembling or fearful, or even remotely respectful, in his current stance. Jack stood there, hands on hips, glowering at the heavens – at Richard – his tone laced with sarcasm as he said, “Look around, Richard. Do you see anyone?”
“I see you.”
“Anyone other than me…”
“Shimmerfax.”
“Anyone that isn’t an animal…” Then, pre-empting him before he spotted the dead knight, he added, “Or dead.”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not possible.”
Jack groaned. “And yet, here we are.”
“I don’t know how that happened.”
“Well that makes two of us. But you need to figure it out.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because I need those clowns to finish this level – and the game. So you need to help me get them back.”
Richard said nothing for a long moment. Then he hemmed and hawed and tapped away at his keyboard. Jack couldn’t see him, of course, but he could hear the clacking of keys. Richard typed loudly in normal circumstances – and when agitated, he practically waged war against the keys. Right now, it sounded like he was leading the Charge of the Light Brigade. Clack, clack, clack, clack, BOOM. The clacks, he figured, were letters, or numbers, and the booms would be either the spacebar or a period. Based on the frequency, he guessed it had to be the spacebar.
“Richard? What’s going on?”
“Hang tight, man. I’m just pinging one of the developers. Ah. Here he is now. Jack, you’re on the line with Nate. Nate, Jack.”
Jack grimaced. He’d met Nate before, in-game at least. Nate was one of the programmers who had helped build the game, and the bug fix that trapped him here. Which would be reason enough to hate the other man. But on top of that, Nate was a capital-d dick.
“What’s up?” Nate asked, sounding about as bored and apprehensive as anyone could. “Richard tells me you messed up your companions somehow?”
“I didn’t mess up sugar,” Jack snapped. “The stupid things just disappeared. We crossed the bridge, and, bam. They’re gone.”
Nate stayed quiet for a minute. Then he said, “I don’t see them. But you know it doesn’t work like that, right? Something had to trigger them to vanish. You had to do something.”
“I didn’t do a danged thing,” he said.
“Yeah, I don’t buy that.”
Jack gritted his teeth. “I’m telling you, we defeated the black knight.”
Nate snorted. “I see that. The old squasheroo, eh?”
“It’s more fun when Karag carves him up with that dagger of his,” Richard laughed.
Jack waved this away. “I don’t care what’s more fun. The point is, we crossed the bridge. They were behind me all the way. The instant I stepped on the other bank, bam: they’re gone.”
Nate sighed. “So, you did do something. Like I thought.”
He scowled at the sky. “I didn’t do anything. I took a gosh darned step.” His scowl only deepened at this last bit. The profanity filter wasn’t doing anything to help his mood.
“Which, by definition, is doing something.”
“You’re going to try to blame this on me? For taking a step?”
“Did I say I was blaming you? I just need to know what you did to cause it.”
“Nothing,” Jack said stubbornly.
Nate ignored this, and said after a moment, “So you took a step, and they disappeared. Did you try going back over the bridge?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Did you reload?”
“Yes.”
“Same thing?”
“Obviously. Would I be talking to you now otherwise?”
Nate hemmed and hawed in turn, the same way Richard had done, for several minutes.
Finally, Jack had had enough. “You re-writing the game line by line there, Nate?”
“Going through the log, actually.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s definitely a bug.”
“No sugar.” Which, of course, was supposed to come out as no shit.
“Looks like the companions were compiled under an old library build, before we got some of the bug fixes in. They were supposed to be updated, but I guess that got overlooked.”
“Then why is that stupid unicorn still here?”
“It was built under the new library.”
Jack stared for a long moment, too astonished for anything else. “Are you kidding me? The only thing you geniuses got right was the sparkly unicorn?”
“Don’t blame me. I didn’t make the dumb thing.”
It seemed to Jack that that wasn’t quite the defense Nate thought. He was, in effect, bragging that his code didn’t work. Still, blame wasn’t the key point here. Figuring out how to fix it was. “Look, I’m not blaming anyone. I just need to know how to get my companions back, so I can finish the level.”
Nate made a lot of gross, noncommittal noises into the microphone. Jack cringed and glowered in turn. Finally, the developer said, “Yeah, that might not happen.”
“What the heather does that mean?”
“So, the bug is coming from Er’c. There’s a flag in his settings. From an early version of things. There was going to be a more complicated companion dynamic, where some of them couldn’t work with other ones. Him and Arath weren’t going to be able to work together, and Karag and Ceinwen, and so on. Anyway, we didn’t end up having time to roll it out.
“Some of the stages of the main quest had already implemented it, some hadn’t.
“This one did. Now the fix – that’s easy: just remove the flag from the character. Which is what those library updates did – updated all the base companion code, to set all those flags to zero. You know, false. So no one conflicted with anyone else.”
“But…the companions didn’t get the new build,” Jack said.
“Exactly. So, long story short, you crossed the bridge and kicked off the next leg of the quest, and the game glitched out. Er’c seems to have triggered it first, but I’m guessing they all would have. Migli couldn’t work with Arath, in an early version. Looks like that’s still active in this build. Ceinwen couldn’t work with Karag. And Migli can’t stand Shimmerfax.”
“He’s the only one who is still there.”
“Yeah, because the unicorn has the right build. But Migli doesn’t.”
Jack shook his head. All of this was interesting, he supposed, in its own way. But none of it told him how to fix the problem. Which he told Nate.
The other man blew out a long breath, and it crackled against the microphone. “Yeah, to be honest, I’m not sure that’s doable. Not without another patch.”
He blinked. “Another patch? Are you trying to kill me?”
“I don’t mean while you’re in there. We’re under orders: we can’t roll out any updates while you’re in the game. Too risky. Mr. Callaghan doesn’t want you to die.”
; “Yeah, I’m not super keen on it myself. But what the heather am I supposed to do?”
“Well, you can try loading. Try getting the other characters to go ahead of you. Maybe if one of them goes first, it’ll work differently.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, dude. You might have to finish this leg without companions.”
“I thought that wasn’t possible?”
“Well, it’s not supposed to be,” Nate admitted. “But you’ve been playing this game long enough to know – it’s got plenty of bugs. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Chapter Eight
Which, of course, was the last answer Jack ever expected to get. Nate didn’t have anything else, though, and he didn’t seem over concerned by the fact, either. He promised to take the problem to Callaghan, and be in touch if the dev team came up with anything. “But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, dude. I’d work on that way out yourself.”
Which, cursing every step of the way, Jack did. He loaded and reloaded, and tried every possible variant of crossing the bridge he could imagine. He pushed Shimmerfax before him, and he shoved Migli to the head of the pack. He blocked Karag, and pushed Karag; fought Ceinwen, and escorted her. None of it made a jot of difference. It didn’t matter who went first, or in what order: the instant Jack had both feet on the far side of the bridge, his companions vanished.
He tried to get creative, too. He tried to swim the River of Skulls. He drowned, and had his brains battered out on rocks, and died half a dozen ways. But he didn’t get across.
He followed the river for a day and a half to the south, where it dropped off a thousand foot, sheer cliff. Still, Jack was desperate. He tried to climb it. He tried to jump across it. He tried to build a bridge of his own of felled logs.
He achieved a number of creative deaths, but nothing else.
So he loaded back at the bridge, and followed the river north. Here, finally, he made some progress. After a march of two days, the river disappeared into a mountain. The immediate vicinity proved impassable.
But Jack kept at it, testing every inch of the mountainside until he found a path up. He must have looked like a mountain goat, hopping and grasping at the tiniest outcroppings, and huffing and puffing as he went.
But it didn’t matter how ridiculous he looked. What mattered was that it worked: he found a path, high up in the mountain, and then down, down, down over the river. He saved, and planted his feet on flat ground. Then, carefully, fearfully, he turned back to his companions. They were all still there.
Jack whooped with delight. “Thanks for nothing, Nate.” He began the long journey back.
Sure, it had taken an extra two days – and it would be four, by time he finally got back to the road. But he’d beaten the game. He’d beaten the bugs. So Jack traveled with a light heart.
For about another day and a half, anyway. Then, half a day from the bridge, he took a step like any other step; and silence fell all around him. He didn’t even need to turn around and look to know what had happened. But he did anyway, and sure enough, everyone but Shimmerfax had gone.
He’d crossed some kind of invisible border, and hit the same bug.
He spent two more days trying to walk around it, to no avail. Then, he accepted the inevitable. There was no way to proceed without losing his companions. Not unless Nate and his team figured something out.
So he chose to speak to a supervisor. He got Richard again, and the intern groaned. “Aww heck. I guess you didn’t solve it yet, then?”
“Obviously.”
“I was hoping no news was good news. You know, since we hadn’t heard from you in so long.”
Jack frowned. “How long has it been?”
“About a week.”
“Stuff-and-nonsense,” he said. Which, of course, hadn’t been what he’d meant.
“So, I guess you’re checking in to see if the developers have anything for you?”
Jack confirmed that he was, and Richard disappeared for a minute. Then a new developer came on the line, introducing himself as Dave.
“Hey Jack. So, Nate already left for the night. But I’ve got good news and bad news for you.”
“Hit me with the bad news first.”
“Ok, so the bad news is, you’re going to have to figure out a way to complete this part of the quest without your companions.”
Jack blinked. “Well then, if that’s the bad news, what the heather is the good news?” As far as he could see, that was no news at all. Nate had already told him that much.
“The good news is, as soon as you’re out of there, we can roll a patch that’ll fix it for the next tester.”
“So…the good news isn’t for me, then? It’s for the company?”
“We’re all one team here, Jack. Like Mister Avery says, we’re all one big family.”
“Mister Avery isn’t the one trapped in the gosh darned machine.”
Dave laughed. “Right. Well, let us know if you need anything else, Jack.”
Then, he clicked off.
Jack sank to the ground. The grass felt warm and brittle underneath him. “Richard?” The other man didn’t reply. He figured the intern must have gone at the same time as Dave, so he said, “Speak to supervisor.”
Richard’s voice boomed over the desolate landscape, “Jack? You need something else?”
“Yeah. You said it’s been a week since you heard from me?”
“That’s right.”
He frowned. “Jordan hasn’t checked in with me. Does she know what’s going on?”
“Yeah, no man. Avery didn’t want us to say anything.”
“Why?”
“New policy. He thinks the user and supervisor check-ins are distracting players, and if she knew that, she might check in anyway.”
“Players? You mean, me.”
“Right. So our new policy is, we’re not allowed to contact you unless you reach out to us first.”
Jack snorted. “And she went along with that?”
“I mean, she probably doesn’t want to lose her job. Avery’s serious about this, bro. I guess he’s worried about you.”
“So – what? He’s going to help by isolating me?”
“Nah. I told you: he doesn’t want anyone to distract you.”
“Jordan wasn’t distracting me.”
“I don’t make the rules, dude.”
Jack scowled. “How long before she’s on shift?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”
So Jack trotted out the same guilt trip he’d used on Jordan, seemingly an eternity ago now. Richard resisted longer.
But in the end, even he cracked. “Another hour and a half.”
Jack smiled to himself, thinking, Resistance is futile. Aloud, he said, “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just – don’t tell Avery I told you anything, okay?”
Jack agreed he would keep the secret. “A thousand wild horses wouldn’t pry it out of me.”
Richard mumbled something under his breath, and signed off. He didn’t mind, though. He was going to talk to Jordan soon, and she’d know what to do. Jordan always knew what to do.
So he sat in the grass and waited. Then, he started to feel the strain of the past few days, so he lay down.
And, before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep. He woke with a start some time later. He didn’t know when, or how much time had passed. But he feared the worst. After all, he’d been awake for almost a week. Presumably, he was going to sleep for a long time after that. So maybe he’d missed Jordan altogether.
“Speak to supervisor.”
A low groan rolled over the horizon. “What, Jack?”
Jack blinked. “Richard?”
“Last time I checked…”
Something in the impatience in the other man’s voice gave him pause. “Uh…how long’s it been since we talked?”
“Not even half an hour…”
Jack frowned. “Really?�
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“Yeah, dude. I’m staring at a clock. It’s right here in front of me.”
“Oh.”
“So, do you need anything?”
“No. I thought you were Jordan. I’ll wait for her.”
A mumbled “Lucky her,” rolled across the horizon, right before an emphatic button press – Richard shutting the line down, he figured.
So Jack waited. He waited for what seemed a very long time. Then he called, “Speak to supervisor.”
Richard’s voice answered, somehow less enthusiastically than before. Jack wasn’t sure how that was even possible. But after a brief exchange and a reassurance that a mere ten minutes had gone by, the intern left the game.
Jack tried four more times, across an interval that seemed to last forever. Three of them brought Richard back. The fourth summoned Jordan. He’d heard her voice before – her real voice, outside of the Migli filter – but it was a welcome sound right now. “Oh, Jack, thank goodness. I was about to ping you myself. To heck with Avery and his policies.”
“You know about the companions, then?”
“I do. Richard told me. Why didn’t you check in, Jack? I’ve been really worried this past week.”
It was the first bit of human compassion anyone had showed him since he’d hit the companion bug, and Jack had to fight to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t realize how much time had gone by.”
“That’s really worrying. You should be able to track real life time and game time simultaneously.”
Jack didn’t know what to say to that. At the moment, he had too much to worry about to add another problem to his list. So he said, “I’m more worried about the companions, Jordan. Richard told me I need them to finish this level.”
“You do.”
“And I’m assuming that if I don’t finish this level, I don’t finish the game?”
“That’s right. It’s not technically a level. It’s a stage in your quest. But, yeah, everything follows from here.”
“What am I going to do?”
Jordan exhaled, a long, unsure sound. “I don’t know.”