Core Punk

by Paul Bellow

  Several women walked over and joined her.

  “What happened with Harrison?” Heidi asked, rubbing her hands together.

  I took a deep breath, instantly regretting it.

  “There’s not much to tell,” I paused, “except for the kiss.”

  I smiled mischievously. Hushed whispers of amazement and amusement swept through the room. Missy glanced at me, knowing it was a lie, but saying nothing. The other women stopped laughing as Becky walked down the aisle between the two rows of bunks crowded into the room.

  “Here's a better idea." She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why don’t you tell us your crazy ideas about reality. That dumb story you always tell. We haven’t heard your crazy story in a while. Are you tired of people thinking you’re a piece of shit liar, or something?”

  Five of her followers stood behind her. She was baiting me, but maybe it was good to remind the women there was something else we all needed to worry about. I would get in trouble for talking about it if someone ratted me out, but I knew all the women in our barracks would never tell on me, especially Becky. We hated each other, but we both knew we needed each other to survive the harsh reality of the shelter.

  “Gather around,” I said, motioning with my right hand. “I don’t enjoy telling this story, but after all the craziness today, I need to share.”

  I paused, waiting for everyone to quit talking.

  “Everyone quiet,” Heidi hissed.

  I glanced from her to the other women, all of them hanging on my every word.

  “This isn’t the real world,” I began, observing the other women’s reactions. “We’re not meant to have numbers controlling our lives. None of this is real. I remember the real world before everything changed in a flash. We were all together in a virtual world when something happened and everyone except a few people lost their memories of the real world.”

  “You’re full of it,” Becky snickered.

  Laughter followed. Nothing new. They couldn’t affect me, not anymore. I tossed my head to get my greasy black hair out of my face before continuing.

  “People hate me for remembering, but I can’t help it. I wish I could forget.”

  “Tell us the story,” Heidi said, rubbing her hands together.

  I frowned. Orlando had warned me about telling the tale. He ran our shelter with an iron fist. Without any entertainment, the other women had come to rely on my stories for escape.

  “Do it!” Missy begged.

  She latched onto my arm and pulling.

  “Okay, okay, settle down,” I said then took a deep breath. “Most of you only remember the life we’re living now, but several months ago something happened. Eden changed in an instant. I don’t know if the same thing happened to the rest of the worlds in the Core, but I’m trapped in here. We’re all trapped in here.”

  “Tell us about the Core,” Heidi said, rubbing her hands together.

  “Yeah, tell us,” Missy pleaded.

  “I’ll tell you what I can remember. After so many weeks in here, some of my memories are hazy, but some of it I’ll never forget.”

  “You’re lying,” Becky said.

  I ignored her and continued. “This world isn’t real. All the text in the air isn’t normal. There’s another world where everything’s different. People of that world became bored, so they built the Core, virtual worlds where they could escape. This world is one of them--”

  “Why would they build a world as miserable as this one instead of making it a paradise?” Becky interrupted.

  Several of our bunk mates laughed along with her.

  “The Core wasn’t always a wasteland,” I said. “Something happened. I don’t know the specifics of what happened, but something crazy happened. The virtual world called Eden I had entered by getting into a virtual reality pod went from utopia to dystopia in a split second. We’re all stuck here…”

  A hush fell over the crowd as they became enraptured by my words.

  “One day, everything froze and this horrible world we live in appeared. Nobody knew what caused it.”

  “You’re full of shit!” Becky yelled, followed by more laughter.

  “Like anyone believes you,” I snapped back. “Everyone remembers how you told us you and Harrison were an item?”

  “We fooled around!” she insisted, standing.

  Her followers did the same. After turning, they walked toward the other end of the room.

  “Continue,” Missy said. “Please and thank you.”

  I smiled. Her mind had been fried somehow after the Happening as I called it. Everyone who believed this world was real called it the Great Freeze. A few others in our shelter claimed to remember life before the Happening, but we were in a minority. We kept everything to ourselves because Orlando forbade any talk of a better life.

  “The real world had no notifications. Numbers didn’t rule us,” I continued. “We built a virtual fantasy world to occupy our time because robots produced everything we needed. My life was perfect until everything changed in a flash. Even worse, few people remembered the truth. They all thought this wasteland is reality…”

  My voice trailed off as the immensity of the statement hit me. Why didn’t more people remember the truth about our situation? Had I gone insane at some point inside the simulation? Was what I called the real world just a dream? Had I turned my dreams about Eden into a false memory?

  “Tell us about the food,” Heidi said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “Oh, the food,” I cooed, smiling. “We had everything you could ever want prepared in a million different ways. The robots cooked anything you wanted, fancy full course meals or simple tasty snacks.”

  “And the pies?” Heidi asked then licked her lips.

  “We had all kinds of pies.” I smiled. “Fruit pies, meat pies, nut pies. And everyone had more than enough. In fact, many people got fat.”

  I stuck out my stomach and waved my hands to give them an idea.

  “That’s crazy!” Heidi exclaimed.

  We had so little joy in our lives, my hazy memories of a life out of our reach entertained a lot of the women. The penalties for talking about a world beyond ours were harsh. I didn’t like to talk about it too often which made it even more special when I did. Missy tugged on my arm.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” I said.

  Missy and a few other women groaned.

  “Besides, it’s almost time for lights-out.”

  As the words came out of my mouth, the long LED lights in the ceiling darkened one after another. Missy yawned as the other women wandered off to their own bunks in the darkness.

  “It’s time for sleep,” I said, turning to her.

  “Nighty-night,” she replied without protest.

  As we laid down next to one another, I struggled to recall more memories of the real world. Without remembering, I’d never be able to figure out what the hell happened. The game didn’t have character classes — only skills — which I liked. When my virtual vacation switched into a game, I’d been randomly assigned stats and skills. Over the last three months, I’d gradually collected Life Experience Points. After studying them for so long, I had come up with a plan to improve my life inside the game.

  I pulled up my character sheet to assign my points and put my plan into action.

  Citizen Number: 1134533312

  Name: Scout

  Age: 26 years

  Level: 2

  LXP: 2,050

  Health: 15

  Psionics: NONE

  Brains: 82%

  Brawn: 72%

  Agility: 87%

  Perception: 70%

  Guile: 75%

  Both stats and skills worked on a simple one to a hundred. When you went beyond a hundred percent, you reached superhuman ability levels. On the flip side, the game penalized you for low stats or skills.

  Stat

  Modifier

  10 -40

  below average

  -10
/>   41 - 70

  average

  0

  71 - 80

  above average

  + 5

  81 - 90

  exceptional

  + 10

  91 - 95

  Extraordinary

  + 15

  96 - 100

  Legendary

  + 20

  100+

  Super

  + 25+

  Behind the scenes, the massive quantum computer running the simulation generated a random number between one and a hundred to see if you succeeded or failed. A person’s stats modified the base chance. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around how we had free will in such a world, but I didn’t dwell on it too much. I pulled up my skills to see how to distribute my fifteen points.

  Skills:

  Mechanical Repair: 72%

  Electrical Repair: 65%

  Plasma Pistols: 40%

  Plasma Rifles: 40%

  Blades: 84%

  Stealth: 87%

  Gymnastics: 24%

  Unarmed Combat: 54%

  Sense of Direction: 74%

  Smooth Talking: 80%

  Foraging: 89%

  Tracking: 63%

  Leadership: 20%

  General Combat Tactics: 74%

  General Combat Strategy 74%

  I would have put everything into psionics if the game let me, but apparently only certain people infected by mutants had psionic abilities. After not running into anyone in Shelter 12 with psionic abilities, I’d started to think whoever was behind the stupid game put it there as a goal that could never be achieved. Unable to become a psionicist, I put ten points into mechanical repair and the other five in leadership. With the mechanical repair, I hoped to become valuable in keeping the shelter running smoothly.

  Unlike the real world, you didn’t need to train skills to improve them. Every time you leveled up, you could choose the skills to improve and could automatically do things better. The game still didn’t make complete sense after three months stuck inside it, but I’d been learning to roll with the flow. My plan to improve my standing in Shelter 12 wouldn’t come easy, but I was ready to try. After three months of hoping things would work out, it was time to act.

  Dropping points into leadership wouldn’t make sense to some, but I wanted it high enough to assume control of my own shelter if the situation ever arose. Becoming a master at mechanical repair was all well and fine for the short term, but I wanted more. I put my stat points into brawn

  which would increase the amount of health I gained next level. The extra toughness would help if I needed to protect Missy or myself. Life for core punks wasn’t easy.

  While I wasn’t spectacular in any single area, my broad range of skills and spread of statistics had helped keep me alive. After assigning my points, I closed my eyes. Before drifting off to sleep, the hatch to the barracks burst open. Bright, fluorescent lights from the hallway flooded the room as I sat up. The smell of shoe leather and hair gel hit my nose.

  Ugh. What now?

  Chapter 2

  Orlando strolled in behind two heavily armed guards, his black mohawk spiked several inches above his scarred scalp. The leather mask covering his face didn’t conceal his ugly character.

  “Everyone, awake!” a guard shouted. “We need volunteers!”

  I shook Missy’s arm. “Wake up, baby girl.”

  “Two more minutes,” she groaned, rolling over onto her other side, away from me.

  “No, get up,” I insisted. “We’re in danger.”

  She stirred next to me then sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. I sat next to her, watching as Orlando strolled in with his sharp, pointy Mohawk and leather mask covering the front of his face. He’d lost most of his nose to frostbite before I arrived. As the man in charge of the entire shelter, his word was law. The lights of the room stayed off as he waddled down the aisle between the two rows of bunks. Was he coming to add to his collection of wives? I used the word lightly.

  “Everyone up!” he yelled, clapping his hands and slurring his words. “We need volunteers!”

  I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. My hatred for the man ran so deep. He treated all the people in Shelter 12 like garbage. He made a habit of coming in late at night though usually for volunteers of a different kind than he wanted now.

  “Nobody?” he asked, almost falling over. “Come on, now, ladies. It’s an honor to serve!”

  As I sat up, ready to speak, Missy grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t do it,” she whispered. “It’s not worth it.”

  For all her problems, she made sense sometimes, but I couldn’t sit quiet.

  “Maybe if you treated us better, we’d be more willing to help,” I said.

  “Who said that?” Orlando demanded. “Speak up!”

  “Me,” I said, hopping down to the floor. “Why can’t you leave us alone? We already slave for you hours each day. This is our area. Why can’t you leave us in peace?”

  I stepped into the aisle between the rows of bunks. The surrounding women sat quietly, none daring to move or make a sound.

  “Come here, woman,” Orlando said.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”

  He laughed, his pock marked head shaking.

  “Get her!” He pointed in my direction.

  Two guards struggled to get around him, causing a few women to laugh.

  “Quiet!” he hissed, shaking a fist.

  As the two guards got closer, I lowered my arms and crouched in a defensive position. They wielded clubs and wore tough leather armor, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. When the first man got close enough, I kicked him between the legs with enough force that his armor didn’t matter. He screamed, grabbing his nuts, as he melted to the floor in a heap.

  “Stop her, now!” Orlando shouted.

  The other guard stepped forward, his grimy, gloved hands reaching for me. I stepped onto the bunk across from mine and pulled myself to the top. The guard looked up as I leaped from one mattress to the next, heading for the door. Some women cheered me on as best they could without incurring the wrath of Orlando. Near the exit, I hopped down, glancing behind me. Would Missy be okay?

  “I’ve got her!” Becky yelled as she grabbed me around the waist.

  While pounding her back, I struggled to free myself. She held on tight as two guards reached us. As they grabbed at me, an inhuman scream caught my attention. I turned as Missy rushed down the aisle, slicing a couple guards and Orlando while racing toward me. The guards forgot about me and stepped toward their boss.

  “Don’t kill them!” Orlando screamed as he clutched the wound on his stocky arm.

  Missy dove to the floor, scooting under three beds before popping up behind Becky and me. She grinned psychotically then plunged a knife into my captor’s arm. The barrack’s bully let me go and grabbed the wound as Missy pulled out the blade. I grabbed Missy’s hand and turned to bolt for the door, dragging her along. Two Enforcers stepped in the way, blocking our escape. I stopped, not ready to die.

  “All I needed was a few scouts to get me some information,” Orlando said behind us. “I don’t understand why you’d want to kill me when I keep you safe.”

  He stopped near the door, taking up almost the entire aisle. Trapped between Enforcers and a fool with too much power in his hands. What to do?

  “But noooo, you couldn’t complete a simple task for me,” he continued. “Some mutants got away, and we need to know if they’re hiding on the lower levels. All you needed to do was hunt them up so the Enforcers could do their job. Why couldn’t you do that, ladies?”

  I clenched my fingers around my dagger as I stared at him.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head and wagging a finger. “Put the knives down. Both of you.”

  “Put it down, Missy. Do it for me.”

  “Not until you put yours down,” she said, glancing toward the door.

  “We can’t win this fi
ght,” I said. “We’ll do what Orlando wants, and this is over, right?”

  I stared into our drunken leader’s eyes. He grinned, showing the wide gap between his two center teeth. I hated everything about him but not enough to die. Even though I knew our entire existence was a virtual world, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what happened when we died in the simulation.

  “Right?” I repeated.

  “No!” Missy shouted, surprising me.

  She darted forward, knife raised. Orlando stumbled backward, tripping and falling. Before Missy reached him, two blue beams shot past me, striking her in the back. She screamed, dropped the knife, and fell to the floor, sliding a few feet toward Orlando. He kicked at her head while struggling to sit up.

  I dropped the knife. “Leave her alone.”

  Hands raised, I stepped toward them.

  “Stop!” an enforcer yelled behind me.

  I kept going, wanting to make sure Missy was still alive. Had they used too big of a stun charge on her? They’d been known to do that and worse. I felt two beams hit me in the back. Pain shot through my body as I fell flat on my face, the gritty cement scratching my skin. I kept shaking, unable to control myself.

  “You die!” Missy cried nearby.

  Another two beams hit me. I blacked out. My last thought about Missy, hoping they didn’t kill her. Even if it was a fake-ass world, I couldn’t survive in it without her. I needed her as much as she needed me. We became a deadly team when working together. Then again, maybe we’d both get lucky, die, and wake up in the real world I’d imagined for so long.

  * * * * *

  I opened my eyes, head pounding. Where’s Missy? I sat up too quick and almost fell back over. Fighting the dizziness, I glanced around the tiny stone room. Missy lay curled up in a ball near the door. I crawled over, seeing blood everywhere. Was she dead? Did they throw her in here to warn me? Frighten me? I placed a hand on her arm and shook it.

  “Missy? Are you okay?”