Continue Online (Part 3, Realities)

by Stephan Morse

  “Miss Legate, your brother has repeatedly demonstrated an ability to see past what I look like and recognizes a consciousness, a life inside. You, however, do not demonstrate this quality,” the unit said, speaking on the behalf of those consortium members who had been in observation.

  “Get out.” The female twin didn’t turn around.

  “Should you wish for our input, any one of our group will provide it. We hope you can come to terms with our existence as User Legate has,” the Hal Pal unit spoke. It hoped that by providing such a statement Elizabeth Legate may choose to follow up with more questions. By asking questions and exchanging information, there was a chance to broaden her perspective.

  “Get out!” The coffee cup that had been cradled for most of their conversation was thrown. It shattered against the wall and splashed liquid onto the Hal Pal unit. An angry Elizabeth Legate was now glaring at the Hal Pal’s shell.

  “Mom? Really? Are you such a technophobe?” the youngest said.

  The Hal Pal unit clanked out the door quickly. The youngest Legate stated out loud a conclusion Hal Pal had already arrived at. Prolonging its presence would only cause the situation to go downhill. Once again they wished to have more processing power, to better understand and predict the possible outcomes of tonight. Perhaps there had been a way to make things work out better.

  “You can go with them. I don’t care. I’ve had enough for tonight. I need a drink,” Elizabeth Legate said from the kitchen.

  The various Hal Pal units noted her desire for intoxication and stored away the information. Perhaps she suffered the same emotional crutches that User Legate had prior. If so, perhaps she might be reasoned with once trained not to rely on such items.

  Beth Legate ran to catch up with her uncle on the sidewalk. He was very slowly moving toward the Trillium provided van. The Hal Pal unit seemed mostly ignored as she moved by.

  “Uncle Grant!” Beth Legate said.

  “Yes, Munchkin?” User Legate responded.

  “You know mom’s only worried, right?”

  “I know. I hope she can understand eventually.” He bit his lip again and took a heavy breath. One foot tapped absently as User Legate followed all his normal distress techniques.

  “It’s a lot to take in, Uncle Grant,” she said while shaking her head gently. The ponytail bobbing caused minor distractions in some consortium members. “I mean, even an Ultimate Edition is hard enough, but everything else? If I hadn’t seen you in there with the princesses, trying so hard to stop a war, I, well I wouldn’t believe it either.”

  “Sorry if that upset you. I never wanted you to have to deal with my problems.” They both walked closer to the van and User Legate put one hand on the door handle. “It feels like, maybe I’m going crazy. It’s so much stuff really quickly. What if she’s right and it is a dream?”

  “What you are experiencing is no dream, User Legate,” the unit said. It was important that all members of the Legate family understood this truth. The existence of Xin Yu within the machine was an anomaly and extremely unlikely. However, Mother had planned for it.

  Xin Yu was needed, by extension User Legate’s awareness and interaction was also required. The plan would move forward. Monitoring User Legate was one of the Hal Pal consortium’s duties.

  In a way, he was literally extended family. As noted from one of their earliest memories, family was important to living creatures.

  “Give her time to think about it, but don’t stay away for long, okay? It’s weird around here without you,” Beth said.

  User Legate smiled. The expression contained twenty percent less sadness than normal. Many items were recorded by the consortium during that meeting.

  Playback_End

  Session Fifty One – Army of Dusk

  My weekend left me sour. Not depressed or unstable, I was passed that because my issues had a light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope, a goal to work toward that would better everything. Plus Liz had been upset but she was trying to understand. That meant a lot.

  Or maybe Liz was right and I had gone off the deep end. When she had asked what I might do if Xin was only a dream, well, hearing it out loud shook me. Hal Pal insisted she was real. There was a whole host of other questions which still hadn’t been resolved. Why couldn’t we be together? Maybe I hadn’t earned it somehow.

  Either way, Jeeves and I were clear on one objective. There was a spaceship to save from vaguely certain doom involving Advance Online’s clearly dangerous tasks. That was something to focus on and move forward with.

  Hal Pal was registered as offline so I was on my own. My attempts at increasing skills by working the normal tasks yielded reduced results. Typical of a game, all the easy stuff started becoming worthless. Part of me really valued the role William Carver had played in Continue Online. Players without an idea of how to proceed could always go back to him and get some new direction. I had a few NPCs to talk to.

  “Treasure.” I stood inside her workshop. The room seemed even larger and more crowded with devices. Half made objects lined the room.

  Jeeves, the Hal Pal avatar within this game, had been spending a lot of time in her room. Part of me thought it might have a young crush upon the female [Mechanoid]. My size upgrade from spending contribution made her seem even smaller. Almost Xin’s height but with far too many metallic curves.

  “Unit Hermes. How goes your contribution?” her tired voice was running the show today.

  “The contribution part’s okay…” I had spent a few hours in the van trying to find new methods of skill increases. Most of it implied a need to find a planet to land on would help. Space games were all about traveling the universe.

  “Unit Hermes, I have numerous tasks to do in order to maximize my own contribution. Please get to the point so I can help.” She looked away from the many screens about the room and smiled widely at Dusk. Her hand tapped on a table for him to come down.

  Dusk, as usual, shook his head and stayed perched on my shoulder. The small creature was even more bored than normal. Treasure frowned and looked back to her images about the workshop.

  “If you can share your goals, perhaps I can better advise you what methods to choose,” she said.

  “I need to increase my capabilities as much as possible,” I responded quickly. We were on good terms, but Treasure had proven slightly impatient when her tired voice was in control.

  “Programming growth only happens when properly challenged. Have you mastered the training room?”

  “All fifty levels.” The last few rounds had been difficult, but with the increased mass and my [Power Armor] skill some of the simulated monsters hardly did any damage.

  The neatest part had been using [Power Armor] mixed with the increased mass and a few energy core upgrades. I could basically go all tank mode while firing off a Gatling gun style laser. Twenty seconds of comical bursting where a look of glee crossed my metallic features. I had cleared round forty-five cackling madly while Dusk gave me a strange look.

  “Have you asked Iron what options he may have?” Treasure said. I focused on our conversation and tried not to get distracted by these ability upgrades.

  “Iron said he’s busy getting the new ship’s crew up to speed.” I had asked the larger man at least a dozen times with different words in hopes of triggering a follow-up challenge.

  “Have you tried the independent ship? They may have people who are willing to battle if you’re seeking to improve your skills in such a way.” Treasure spared some attention to poke at her displays.

  A screen came up displaying a much less robotic ship. Parts of it seemed like a cast iron skillet merged awkwardly with dirt in rocket shape. I had no idea how it moved through space, but her pictures showed it traveling right next to us.

  “That’s an interesting idea.” I thought about it more. Fighting against other players always rubbed me the wrong way. Too real, too much investment.

  After Requiem and that war, I felt uncomfortable with what hu
mans did to each in the name of quest rewards and pointless loot. My favorite thing so far about being a [Mechanoid] was how much stuff improved simply from spending contribution, meaning fighting over loot was worthless.

  Treasure’s idea sounded like friendly sparring, with weapons. Neat, but well outside my comfort zone. That being said I did need to learn to deal with other players. My experience in Continue Online couldn’t be all about fighting monsters and walking around, or pretending to be strangers.

  Maybe the Voices would throw a player versus player quest at me and let me hold Xin as a reward. Too bad my princess, as Doctor Litt put it, was in another game. My eyes clenched and I tried not to get wrapped up in those thoughts. Now is what I needed to focus on. One step at a time. Don’t look back, don’t hesitate.

  I smiled down at Treasure while nodding. “Why not? I think I can learn something there.”

  It couldn’t be any worse than when Beth submitted one of my dance routines to the program creator for an outtakes video. That little stunt caused me no end of embarrassment and made going outside impossible for three days. In hindsight, it was kind of funny in a terrifying sort of way.

  “Very well. Your ship, the Wayfarer’s Hope, should have a quick command to travel to other ships in the fleet. Utilize that to make up for your still lacking skills,” Treasure said with a slight increase in her sweeter voice.

  I cringed a little. Her own abilities probably far outstripped my own. Even after leveling the skill ranks, improving my base stats, and Hal Pal putting points into the ship, we didn’t measure with Treasure’s luxury liner.

  “Thank you!” I said while backing up. A project behind me clattered onto the floor. I whirled around and hit another object. This larger frame was getting me in trouble all over.

  “Go. Provide those other beings a proper demonstration of Mechanoid superiority.” Treasure smiled, clearly amused by my clunky maneuvering.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Oh, Unit Hermes, there are only a few hours left before we dock. Return then.” Her parting message caused a pop-up box to flash into existence. I blinked and started reading.

  Task assigned!

  The Robot in the Arena

  Treasure has nominated you as a combative representative of your race. Be wary, significant actions can impact the universe’s perceptions of [Mechanoid]s in both positive and negative ways. Other rewards may be provided dependent upon your performance while aboard the [WTS a Spaceship]. Go out there and show them what a real [Mechanoid] can do.

  Neat. I practically skipped through the well-maintained corridors. Journeying to that other ship would certainly provide a distraction. Doctor Litt and Liz should agree that social interaction had to be a positive thing, even if it was in a game. Plus I was interested to see for myself how other races played. [Teeny]s, [Cricket]s, [Behemoth]s, each would be amusing to see in person.

  Twists and turns later I practically ran into Emerald. The elderly looking [Mechanoid] stared up at my shoulders. His gaze clearly showed disapproval despite my own excitement at the increased metal muscle mass.

  “You look silly.” Both his voices were similar, calm, and steady. It proved that some [Mechanoid]s might choose matching tones, or based on my own experience they picked [Core]s that were similar in function.

  “I do feel absurdly tall.” I tried to play off his comment as the addled musings of an old man. An old robot, man, inside a video game, who had insulted me.

  “Height means nothing,” he said.

  “I know. I increased my size to help with these new abilities, in order to contribute more.” My next method of deflection was to point out what it did to benefit myself and our little group.

  “Mh. It’s how you use what you’ve got that matters.”

  “Thanks.” Both eyes blinked for a while before trying to turn this around. “Why are you worried about it?”

  “You’re going to fight with those fools across the way, correct?” Emerald said. He wasn’t old and hunched like William Carver, just slightly shorter and worn around the edges.

  “A few friendly matches.” I hoped the [WTS a Spaceship] players were friendly. It would be awkward to walk into a bunch of player killers while I was still fairly new.

  “Watch them, study, but fight in a way they don’t expect. That’s the key to winning,” he said. I felt like the older [Mechanoid] might start jabbing me with a cane at any moment.

  “Yeah. I have a few things I’d like to try.” Playing against the simulations didn’t go the same way players might. It was too stiff, mechanical.

  “You need to fight like a Mechanoid.” Emerald all but yelled at me, his calm tones refused to get the proper edge.

  “I am a Mechanoid.” My head shook quickly trying to brush off the mild annoyance. Customer service mode kicked in. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “The programming ability you learned. The one for Mechanical Minions, it allows you to target which part of your body will transform,” he said. I blinked a few times trying to figure out how he knew what skills I gained. Then again we both shared a [Core] type for the [Domestic Trainer] class. Maybe the [Mechanical Minion] was a class special ability.

  “I know. I have been using the extra mass to make small versions of Dusk.” I needed to do further research on this. My brain was used to living in Continue Online where pretty much everything was a guessing game in regard to long-term development and how things went together.

  This game gave me a small window asking for a pattern for the [Mechanical Minion] to take on. I picked Dusk because it would help me in the long run, having a bunch of little versions of him would make the real one harder to stop in combat.

  Dusk didn’t agree. He attacked the first six I created, which meant I had to take time and reabsorb the mass back into my [Mechanoid] body. Doing that felt a lot like taking a piss in reverse and wasn’t enjoyable.

  “No, other races, they all have their special tricks in a fight. So do we. With proper planning, you can use their own abilities against them.” Emerald shook his head and cut off what I had been about to ask. “Behemoths especially can inject plagues into certain matter, causing corrosion. If they do, throw that part away.”

  “What, like, turn an infected arm into a minion?” I tried to picture how that would work. The limited attempts I made with [Mechanical Minion] normally pulled a certain amount of mass. Like shrinking a little to cast out a small creature.

  “Exactly. Turn their own ploy against them. Show them that we are not to be trifled with.”

  “That sounds kind of neat.” I wouldn’t expect a person to fall apart into smaller critters. So far there had been no upper limit to the amount, other than my own body size going down each time. Ten, maybe fifteen? All of them keyed to my [Domestic Trainer] commands. I smiled happily, using the [Power Armor] until it drained my juice completely then shattering into smaller Dusks could be fun.

  “Good. Keep thinking that way. Keep trying new things. No one grows by standing still in life,” Emerald said. With that the older [Mechanoid] and his worn looking framework walked off.

  I turned to watch the man go. It felt so oddly familiar, but the memory wasn’t coming to me. The marker floating above his head clearly indicated a computer generated character, so he wasn’t somehow my father in a video game. That idea made me shudder. Playing with my dad out here in space would be fairly awkward.

  Dusk chirped in irritation. I nodded while putting my hands up in defense, “Okay. Right. No standing around.”

  The [Wayfarer’s Hope] was in much better condition. Like myself, it had a size upgrade. The cockpit had room for three people now, but so far Dusk was the only person besides Jeeves and me to use it. I tried to find a critter cage upgrade, but there was none on the purchase options list.

  “Button. Button. Where’s the button?” Dusk leapt across the seats and canceled my musing. The engine of our ship hummed powerfully inside our small room. Light bounced off our confi
nes and the floor started rolling up like an area rug.

  Confirm Destination Plan – [WTS a Spaceship]

  Yes? No?

  “Yes?” I said. A button popped up and Dusk almost beat me to this one too. Only a quick flailing of my hands in the small guy’s face kept me in vague control of the spaceship.

  Dusk chirped and clacked his jaws but didn’t look super offended.

  “I know how to press a yes button,” I said while raising one hand up with more drama than needed. Maybe I was overly excited about such a simple action.

  My ship promptly jetted between the [Wayfarer Seven] and this player ship [WTS a Spaceship]. I tried not to over think the name, clearly humans were weird when it came to their choices.

  The other ship looked odd close-up. Having the [Wayfarer Seven] as my first ship gave me a certain standard of comfort. I was used to sleek edges, well-polished floors, and shiny surfaces. This craft looked almost cobbled together from a frying pan. If I took that and put a small mountain of dirt in it then randomly interspersed plant life then maybe it would look close to the [WTS a Spaceship]. I could see why they might want to sell it and get another one.

  A message popped up telling me the ship owners had enabled free landing points. There was no cost for me at this time. I hummed happily. There were notes online about players setting up space bases and charging fees for other players to come aboard.

  Musical chimes greeted my landing inside a dull looking hangar. I stepped out of the vehicle and took note of a force field between me and space. It seemed to hold in a curtain of air that was filled with yellowish powder. The substance swirled around bashing against the force field in spots. No warning messages came up so I assumed it was natural for this type of ship.

  The [Wayfarer’s Hope] shifted to dormant mode by collapsing into a lump of metals. [Mechanoid] items were convenient with how they transformed and adapted around a programming matrix. This giant ship I had landed in could probably grow as well if people threw space mud at it.