Instead, I turned the question around while trying not to frown. “It has been over a year since his passing from your world. What do you hope to find? Do you seek some secret of your brother’s? Do you wish to know who he thought of in his last moments? Do you grieve yet?”
“It’s not any of your business. No, and no, and it’s still none of your business.” The system totaled up a number of answers in Liz’s favor. She kept right on going. “I know you’re not really James. He left. Who are you?”
“A dead man given life,” I said.
The machine’s interface didn’t agree with my simple response. A small checkbox still waited for the latest answer to be provided so it could measure my sister’s performance.
“They’re all gone, and no one has seen them since. So who are you?” she insisted upon receiving an answer.
My lip hurt from being chewed. Slowly the disguise of James fell away into nothing and all that remained was my form. This body looked closer to real-life me than any Hermes avatar. Liz’s eyes were wide.
“Hello, Liz,” I said and managed to keep my eyes level.
My twin’s eyes watered, and her chin wiggled. Her mouth hung open to ask a question that couldn’t be uttered out loud. She lifted one arm, and for a moment, I expected her to slap the hell out of me. But Liz never did. Her hands grasped together tightly.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s me.”
“You’re a goddamned idiot,” she shakily summed up my life’s story.
Session One Hundred Eleven
He’s Building a Stairway
After excessive exploration, the reason for a [Messenger’s Tube] made sense. It wasn’t about power so much as balance. Voices appearing directly upon [Arcadia]’s surface would cause issues, so they’d devised an intermediary. Plus the globes up here were pretty damned vague.
There were programs waiting out there which would try to crush my form upon the game’s surface. This one was almost a giant robotic suit that had been occupied by a Voice that brought everyone in line. The side of it even had “Justice” written on it in flowing scrawl.
I stared at it for a long time. The sight of that suit worried me because it might interfere with my plans. I had other tasks to finish, but most were accomplished by what amounted to autopilot.
“That’s very scary,” Nia said. She stood behind me, trying to be thin and succeeding. “Very, very scary.”
“It is terrifying.”
The suit of armor looked one breath away from coming to life.
“Those machines scurrying around can use this if we’re not careful,” I said. “The notes say that Voices caught interfering in anything outside their fiction will be forcibly removed from Arcadia, which will probably hurt.”
This exact problem was why so many of the Voices were only passive observers when they came down. Michelangelo had been in his church but apparently could only offer advice. The Jester had once escaped his confines to circle around Requiem, but it could kill one person a month of its choosing. We were all theoretically allowed to talk or perform functions within our confines, but ultimately, world-impacting choices had to be made by Travelers.
Despite the final version of my [NPC Conspiracy] trait and having an Avatar, I was no longer a Traveler by any stretch. The idea of going back to the old version of me, the limited one who had to question so many topics, felt scary. Up here I was capable and had most answers.
“Are you very, very sure?” Nia asked.
“Very,” I responded.
Part of me wanted to summon my weapons of [Morrigu’s Gift] and [Morrigu’s Echo], then dismantle the suit. Destroying the actual vehicle of Balance’s power felt wrong though. She had used this body to pull the Jester off of me once, long ago.
“Are you sure you can’t wave a very powerful wand or cast a very powerful spell to make everything right?”
“Not by myself,” I said, then looked over. “Maybe it’s better for you to stay up here.”
The elf girl was fidgeting, her feet crossed, then uncrossed. “I want to go home, but most of my friends are gone, and those below aren’t right in the head. Their spirits are very withered. Like the human you found.”
“It’s okay to stay here too. When my sister opens the doorway, I’ll go, and when it’s time, I’ll summon the rest of you. You’re part of this, and you’re allowed to help.”
Nia Eve and Phil weren’t the only pieces of Locals that were lost in that abyss. Reconstructing them had taken days, and even then they were a bit broken, comparable to people with memory loss and brain damage. Tracking down missing people was how I had filled my time while Liz played her four weeks of character creation. Beth helped a lot, and other players pitched in once they got wind of the budding project. Even now, a party of familiar faces was below, waiting for the [Lithium] to be completed.
“Oh, she’s starting,” Nia said. She knelt on all fours and peered out over a cliff’s edge.
The missing ground represented the gulf between this plane and the one below. We peered downward into the fog that contained an image of multiple players. Liz’s face stood out the clearest.
“Okay.”
My sister stood just outside a beginner town. Not [Haven Valley], but the one Beth had begun her journey at years ago. Liz knelt on top of the cliff, where rivers joined before falling to the starting location. Beth stood by, looking older than I remembered. She kept her mother guarded against weaker monsters while Liz scrawled out badly written [Lithium].
Her hands shook. Beth whispered words that were inaudible even with my abilities. Liz looked down while frowning. The others were talking. A few people dug through their bags, pulled out various items, and handed them over. I only understood some of the details, but apparently a player summoning a Voice was far more complex than summoning Dusk or a [Red Imp]. Liz set items in place then waved off the other players.
“Subject Nemesis’s heart rate has increased substantially,” a mechanical voice said. “Adjusting input-output response levels accordingly. New safety regulations are being accounted for.”
The readings went on, but the plump blonde Voice who had read them before was missing.
Liz had chosen the name Nemesis, a title with as much meaning as Hermes or Hecate but also strangely fitting for my twin. She spent those first four weeks studying books and firing arrows. I suspected the virtual world gradually drew her in, despite the soullessness.
Nemesis lifted a small dagger to her forearm, then brought the blade across it. She winced, and guilt shot through me. Liz had to be the one to summon me. Even Continue Online knew we were twins, and that meant a lot to the program left behind by Mother.
“Grant?” my sister whispered over the circle. “Can you hear me?”
“I can,” I said toward the foggy cloud.
What we saw were two different sides of the same situation. It felt like being the [Red Imp] all over again. I felt tempted to demand cupcakes, but Dusk was gone.
“Is this enough?” she asked.
The fog looked completely different to me. Not in anything outright visible, but before, it had felt solid. Now it felt possible to fall through it toward the world below.
“It should work.” I’d seen notes implying that my old avatar could walk the world below, not me as a Voice, but Hermes the character. “I’ll try to come through. Be careful and move back a little bit. I don’t know exactly what will happen.”
“Everyone, back up,” Liz’s voice dipped in volume as the gaggle of Travelers took steps backward.
Their forms faded into the mist and became dots representing players we couldn’t see directly from here.
“Be very careful, Gift the Gate,” Nia said. She glanced at the huge mechanical creature that hung behind us. Once I left, it would start to fade.
“Don’t break anything while I’m gone.” I smiled, then stepped over the edge.
Falling wasn’t exactly falling. The world tilted, but at the same time, it was like walking through
a thick layer of water that beat down upon me. My mind felt dulled. Part of me stripped away, and the world became raw, fresh, and terribly limited. The world tightened into place around me, with rules and weights.
No sensation described the change perfectly. The closest thing that came to mind was like peeling off unrestrained clothes such as pajamas or comfortable nightwear and putting on a business suit. Items were equipped, and my clothing transformed to the toga. Tingles shot up and down my arm as further changes were made. Instead of black for mourning, it was now a faded yellow, as if dyed by sunflowers.
My mouth hung open. Humming filled my ears, and both knees hurt. I gasped for air while clenching a hand to my chest.
“Voices,” I muttered, trying to right myself.
Grass sat frozen and bowed away from me. Muscles in my back clenched tightly and refused to release. One hand trembled as it searched for anything tangible. The problem was, everything down here felt so much more real than being Hal Pal or being a Voice.
“Uncle Grant? Are you all right?”
The question registered, but only violent head shaking came out. My leg jerked, and I tumbled to one side. I ended up on my back, vibrating and trying to line up with the most suppressed version of myself since dying.
“He’s twitching like a bug,” another woman said in disgust.
“Be nice.” The responding person spoke in a lighter tone.
There were figures farther away, but they looked so mundane. One held a giant shield that had to be bigger than she was. The other stood tall and lanky in a blue robe.
Slowly it all came together. Everything settled, and my limbs almost responded correctly to thought. People around me, presented only in a visual spectrum, started to make sense. One hand shook back and forth as if disgusting material resided upon me, but only the feeling of having real skin came back.
“This is weird,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked me. Her clothing hadn’t changed from the basic starter material, despite Beth’s attempts at providing better gear. Only browns and grays lined Liz’s colors, compared to Beth’s crimson swath, blue robe, and white-gold radiance.
“Nothing. I’ve just been… in a different realm. I think it’s messing me up, readjusting to normal.”
“Sure,” Elane said. She lifted her shield in a shrug, then let it slam back to the ground. It looked heavier than before.
TinkerHell stood next to her friend but looked sadder than I remembered. My mind reached out for information but received no automated response. Whatever bothered her would be a question for another day.
“Sorry, it just takes time to get used to this again.”
Questions poured forth, asking me about what had happened, where I had gone, and what special zone had kept me busy for nearly a year of game time. Most of them had no clue where I had actually gone, due in part to the Voices’ manipulation ahead of time. Apparently only a few truly knew of my real death: family, Trillium higher-ups, and my lawyers.
My sister, niece, and I had talked ahead of time about how to present our situation. Some people knew about Shazam, but they weren’t aware that I had died in those final moments. One person coming back was unlikely enough, let alone three. Despite suspension and time, no one talked about it online, or any location that could be tracked as a Voice.
Between the three of us, we decided to lie, not because the idea of convincing them I had died and was now walking around sounded impossible, but because it was kinder than suggesting they might have perished my place. People, anyone who watched me on the video stream, could put it together. Despite that, a majority of people on the Internet believed my character had simply entered a secret event. They weren’t completely inaccurate.
“Awesome! You’re alive!” Awesome Jr. shouted. He had filled in during the last year. His neck was thicker than I remembered. The ugly green cloak had been replaced by a slightly nicer, but still green, garment.
Beth and Liz were looking at each other without saying much. My sister’s eyes were wet with moisture. The subject of my passing had clearly left scars on them.
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “My character was just stuck.”
“Your stats are all weird,” Shadow muttered using a rough tone.
HotPants nodded while twisting her hands around a new staff.
“What’s that Voice title? Is that why we had to summon you?” SweetPea asked. “Aren’t they, like, gods in this game?”
My hands went up and I tried to shrug off her question. “I guess that’s what happens when you hold off a world-altering event. I’m not all-powerful though.”
The quartet exchanged glances. Messages were typed that barely registered. Looking at chat windows was no longer an automatic action to me. By the time I caught up with the rolling wall of text, a note from my niece popped up saying, “Just move on.”
I tried to gather my thoughts. Reconstructing people had been hard enough. Talking to Liz about how we needed to build a tower in [Haven Valley] had taken even more out of me. Beth understood the purpose at least. She had spent days rambling about programming requirements and technology needs. The girl was smart, smarter than we had ever hoped to be.
That was how I found out she’d switched majors from the study of energy to programming and intelligence replication. Apparently Nona had recommended her for a course while I was dancing with another woman. Time marched on for everyone else but seemed to skip by rapidly for me.
I stood up slowly. Disorientation hit me, and my legs threatened to buckle. My head tipped forward and everything else followed, slamming me right into Liz. She tried to hold me up but slipped. It took her, Beth, and Elane to push me back to standing.
Heavy eyelids threatened to close. The air made me want to sneeze. I took a breath, then risked more conversation. “So about the project, do you think you can help?”
“I don’t understand why you need our help,” Liz said. “Now that you’re back, are we needed?”
“He can’t do it alone, not this,” Beth said. “We’ve—well, it’s like what happened when everything fell apart. We’ve got to build something in the game for it to work right.”
“Why?”
“She’s talking about the Dopple-Krine Resonance effect.” Awesome Jr. started babbling out a long-winded theory.
My sister looked absolutely lost. I would have been too if it wasn’t for being living proof. Essentially, the resonance effect was the same way I saw the world. Digital code had somehow been altered by Mother over the years to allow virtual actions to impact the flow of information. More people helping would mean more ARC units sharing the processing power. Each one would form a link of sorts in a giant chain. We would use those to compile a program, almost growing it instead of hard code. Fifteen years ago, in high school, I would have told everyone that wasn’t how technology worked. Time had changed the rules.
“Where’s that cool girl? You know, the one who’s too good for you.” Elane always focused on the important things.
“Xin’s not here. She went through the portal,” Liz said clearly to her friend.
“Well, that’s stupid,” the shorter Hispanic woman said. Her face wrinkled, but she didn’t sound upset at all.
They must have come to grips with my wife’s existence as a digital character. It also meant that Elane probably knew about my death but was keeping quiet.
“Getting back to her is why I started playing again.” The words made me pause and look around. Xin had been the reason for a lot of choices in my life, and today, here and now, it hit me just how many were her fault.
Without her ghost, I would probably have never taken Continue Online seriously. Without her death, I would have been working hard toward earning money for a spot to Mars. If Xin hadn’t ever met me all those years ago, if I hadn’t fallen so obsessively in love, and if so many other moments hadn’t turned out the way they did…
Regardless, the desire to be with her was constant. It pulled, and before the a
ction fully registered, I had already walking off down the road. My legs barely resisted the urge to run. Windows popped up and displayed messages that didn’t matter.
“Where are you going!” my niece shouted.
“To Haven Valley! Where we need to build a tower!” My chest heaved. There were players in my way, people I absently recognized but pushed by anyway. “To get my wife!”
Water welled in my eyes, and I took a breath to let the sensation die away. There wasn’t time to feel sadness or pity. Every minute mattered, and a delay now would only put off reuniting with the love of my lives.
I had to vacuum the house and do the dishes. The laundry needed to be put away and ingredients bought for dinner. My head shook abruptly as a routine from years ago went by. This wasn’t the past, but there were definitely tasks to accomplish so that Xin and I could reunite.
Liz’s starting town lay weeks away from [Haven Valley]. I needed to reach whatever remained of my own beginnings in Continue Online. Asking normal people to keep up with my mad charge across the face of [Arcadia] was silly.
The landscape of [Arcadia] proper was massive. I walked for days, only stopping to pick up paper airplanes that lay along the roadsides. Players on autopilot or actively playing trailed behind me. Occasionally one would catch up to ask questions or offer shortcuts across the landscape, ones that were new to me.
They all had shortcuts, and my own knowledge was lacking. There was the moon, but I didn’t understand how to use that path. Instead, we crawled through a tree trunk that revealed a still lake in the mountains. After that, SweetPea showed us a mountain peak nearby, which we leapt off sideways only to roll to our feet on a field of purple flowers hundreds of miles away. Our path zigged across the globe.
In the field of flowers, we found two small paper airplanes wet from mountain dew. Another dozen hung in a forest tree along our path, but all the other plants were void of white papers. More airplanes were matted like ugly hats atop two [Coo-Coo Rill]s that tried to pelt Awesome Jr. with nuts. I gathered them all and held each one close.
Continue Online (Part 5, Together) Page 40