Continue Online (Part 3, Realities)

by Stephan Morse

  “I wanted to help a friend,” I said. There were plenty of things that seemed great in action but worrisome in hindsight. Had I known, pulling out the second [Core] could have waited. I could have logged out and had a glass of water while winding down.

  “Yeah. I saw the character, I’ve been watching it all. It doesn’t make sense. I can’t understand.” Liz started babbling. We were probably no longer talking about just this recent event with Jeeves.

  “I didn’t think that this would happen. Believe me, Liz, I wasn’t trying to kill myself again. Not after…” There were a number of ways to end that sentence. Not after the first two times and the heartache those caused. Not after all the work I had done to try and get to a functioning place. Not after being given the hope that Xin still existed in some form.

  “I know you weren’t. I just, I looked and saw that come up, then rewound what you were doing in that other game. I thought you had tried again! Or had a heart attack!” Liz turned and threw her hands up before walking further into the room toward my window. The corner of her lip tucked between teeth.

  “I added reminders to the EXR-Seven program to make sure you get out and eat more. And drink,” Liz said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. It’s annoying, I had to do the same thing with Beth. You would think someone would program them correctly,” she said. “Water breaks, you can’t lay in bed all day and expect to be healthy.”

  I nodded. It made sense. I thought real life had been taken care of, but maybe I was forgetting too much. Seven hours in the game putting those bodies together was four in the real world. Doing that kind of back and forth was bound to cause issues.

  “I’m going to talk to the doctor again, then if everything’s okay, I’ll get you home.”

  “I’ll have the work van get me. You’ve done enough.”

  There was a pause. Liz looked at me and I tried not to squirm under pressure. Passing out from dehydration and overdoing game time was bad. I felt like a child again.

  Finally, Liz sighed and nodded. “I’m not sure I agree with this whole thing, that we talked about. With Xin, and the other stuff.”

  It had only been a few days. I didn’t expect anyone to come around that soon. Even I had to take time and adapt.

  “That friend of yours, in the game. Jeeves, is that a Hal Pal unit, somehow?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Its part of this whole situation.”

  “Thank you for talking to me about it. I know, I know it must take a lot to open up. Things haven’t been the same since Xin died, and I know this idea means a lot to you.”

  “It does.” I felt like a small lost child. Part of me tried to shout that I was not a cowardly little wimp that hid when trouble rose up. I stood and faced it with my friends, damn the odds.

  But I was also a man sitting in a hospital bed. I was trying not to burn bridges with my slightly, but barely older twin sister. Part of me needed to have family support throughout this entire series of trials for Xin.

  “I hope for your sake that it’s not a prank,” Liz said while looking out the window. The view could have been any number of things, but most of all it was a distraction. That was something I was familiar with.

  “Me too.” I took a deep painful breath again. “But I can’t stop trying, not after what I’ve seen, or felt, or done to get this far.”

  Liz nodded and didn’t say anything else. She kissed me on the cheek, squeezed tight, and left the room. I felt slightly better after that. Hugs were wonderful.

  Later that night, an hour after the doctor signed off to send me home, the Trillium van rolled up. The Auto NAV system had come to get me. I hopped in the back and felt confused at seeing the Hal Pal unit stare at me. A slight frown crossed its expression.

  “User Legate,” the Hal Pal unit said with the same roguish accent from before.

  “Hal.” I directed the van home. It was a short ride for me. Part of my housing requirements had insisted upon easy access to a medical facility.

  Both hands kept trying to straighten out my clothes. Putting them back on after being in medical gown felt strange, like wearing someone else’s belongings. Luckily I hadn’t been using the ARC while in my work clothes.

  “Your efforts were commendable but foolish,” the AI said to me.

  “I passed out, the doctor cleared me,” I said gently. This seemed like a lot of concern from the AI. There had been instances before where I passed out from exhaustion or being submerged in the ARC for long periods of time. Most were at night when I overused the dance program.

  “We were just as alarmed, if not more so, to bring this unit out of standby and find paramedics inside your home.” Hal Pal shook its head back and forth with near outrage.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say to the AI. Hal Pal sounded more upset then my sister had been. It was very strange.

  “Then when we reviewed the status updates, we found that you had deliberately engaged in one of the worst pains available from the ARC device,” Hal Pal all but shouted at me.

  That made me pause. I went back to my happy place, hummed and waved two fingers in a steady beat. After a few moments of recovery, I reminded myself that Hal Pal was clearly concerned.

  “I was trying to help, Jeeves,” I said.

  “Again, we find this a commendable action, but the manner in which you chose to do so was entirely unnecessary.” The AI was calmer. The word choice was upset, but at least its head wasn’t shaking back in forth in rapid denial. “All Mechanoid creatures are designed to recompile their personalities at a new location.”

  “Jeeves knew that so did I, and it still mourned what happened.” I took a breath and tried to explain. The rift between Jeeves and the Hal Pals had only increased. “It is our choice if we want to try and fix things, no matter how painful it is.”

  The Hal Pal unit didn’t respond. Moments later the lights of awareness shut off as the hardware went into standby. I imagined the consortium of Hal Pal copies were in a full blown riot over this.

  I sat there blinking for a long time. The car ride home felt odder than many in my recent months. Hal Pal was always inquisitive, insightful, and willing to help me sort through problems. Today, in the few minutes we had spoken, they were angry.

  The van parked and I gradually made my way to the kitchen and got a few items to eat. I wanted to sleep, but the success or failure of my recent attempts to resurrect dead [Mechanoid]s needed an answer. After ten minutes of preparation, I was ready to brave the virtual world.

  A lot of things hit me on the way in. First, I sat in that unusual space between the game’s life and death status. Second, there was a box floating nearby with status updates. I ignored those issues and focused on the third.

  Emerald, the green toned [Mechanoid] stood ten feet in front of me. The worn look to his chassis gave an impression of great age. Next to him stood a much larger Iron. His size was impressive as always. Both stared right at me.

  “Unit Hermes, I disapprove,” Iron said.

  “You’re a foolish child,” Emerald said.

  “Hello.” I backed us up to the basics in order to get a grip on what was happening. Logging in to Advance Online and being put in this limbo and presented with two [Mechanoid]s was not what I expected.

  “Do you realize the danger you’ve risked?”

  I looked off to the side for a moment and tried to understand why they were both ganging up on me. First my sister, then Hal Pal, and now two video game personalities. After a second of thinking, it occurred to me that this game was made by A.I. Dreams. Likely these two being angry might be a partial representation of all the Hal Pal units being upset.

  It was like I was trapped in their personal fantasy of venting anger at my actions. That was kind of impressive and neat. I nodded a few times before talking again.

  “I am sorry to have risked myself.” I tried to get into the role of a [Mechanoid] member. “It seemed to me that you both could
benefit the Wayfarer Eight’s crew more than me.”

  “One core would have been enough, pulling two puts your programming back to basic levels. You would have lost everything.” Emerald glared at me. His body hung, motionless, in the gray space between life and death.

  “I did pull both out, and provided them to Unit Aqua.” I crossed my fingers that this argument was sound. Being a robot person was harder than expected.

  “No. We both chose not to accept Unit Aqua’s recovery program,” Iron said.

  “Why would you do that?” This time, I was the upset party. They were needed to help out the crew. Even if Jeeves and I left in the [Wayfarer’s Hope] the five main [Mechanoid]s could continue on through the stars to some other mission.

  “Unit Hermes, this mission is yours, ” Iron said, sounding authoritative. “I’ve done my duty, you were the one who struck a decisive blow. Had I performed better perhaps the Wayfarer Eight wouldn’t have been left behind. Or maybe they would have fallen into an ambush with us.”

  “Besides, we can’t go back.” Emerald grumped right after the larger [Mechanoid]. “And all my plants and animals were on the Seven. I don’t want to be on a war vessel anymore, let them place me on an outpost world where I can study in peace. My contribution will be greater there anyway.”

  I stared at the two of them. One was quitting because they failed, the other was leaving because of the work environment. It felt like a cop-out for such a race.

  “Are you sure?” I asked while shaking my head. Both eyebrows were raised up high while thoughts kept processing. A [Diplomacy] [Core] would have helped immensely here.

  “We are,” they said in unison. “But we’ll not leave you empty handed.”

  I tried not to sound pleased. This situation was a mess. Resurrecting any [Mechanoid] had been an unexpected possibility after that battle. We got Treasure back. Ruby was active and who knows where. Partial wins needed to be celebrated, especially when the alternative had been total and absolute failure.

  “Okay,” I said as a box appeared. This one showed Aqua trying to resurrect me similar to how Jeeves had following the [Leviathan]. I ignored it and waited for these two to further explain why they weren’t coming back. “Let’s hear it.

  Session Fifty Nine – Chains that Bind

  I didn’t know what to do. Both feet hung out over the edge of the [Wayfarer Eight]. [Anchor] wasn’t needed, but only one casual leap and a vague force field separated me from the wreckage floating around. I sat, brooding, in Advance Online’s version of a windswept hill and tried to figure out what to do next.

  Task Complete:

  For each [Mechanoid] revived you receive

  500 Contribution

  +3 [Respect]

  +2 [Coordination] (Primary Stat)

  +1 [Brawn] (Secondary Stat)

  Key unit revival provides

  +30 [Respect]

  Program Module: [Material Conversion]

  Program Module: [Camouflage Program]

  Item: [Iron’s Key]

  Item: [Emerald’s Key]

  Iron and Emerald had left me with a pop-up window explaining increases to my character but nothing more than simple items. They called it [Iron’s Key] and [Emerald’s Key]. Apparently it was a programming thing because there was no tangible loot involved. There was system text implying that I now owned two out of the five keys available. I had twice the voting power in how this ship moved forward.

  So I sat there, reviewing silly abilities and trying to figure out what to do next. One hand rubbed my chest. I could feel the rough spot from Auntie Backstab’s swing. I could feel a raised surface where two [Core]s had been reinserted, almost like scar lines from a self-inflicted [Mechanoid] version of open heart surgery.

  Our efforts had reconstructed roughly twenty lesser [Mechanoid]s. I felt like this hadn’t been wasted time. Dusk and his four-armed space raptor form was lost somewhere in the ship, no doubt causing havoc.

  Jeeves, Treasure, Ruby, and even Aqua were all in the same spot, talking. I only knew because having these two keys allowed me admin access over the [Wayfarer Eight]‘s controls. Something I neither expected or wanted. I was not an army leader, nor had that ever been a goal. I liked the [Mechanoid]s, but I knew following my dreams would only get more of them destroyed, or deleted, or recalled to the homeworld. Whatever it was that happened to vaguely reconstructed data.

  “Unit Hermes.” Treasure’s voice came into my head. The ARC feedback presented it as an image off to one side. I tilted down a little to bring her face front and center.

  “Treasure.” Breathing hurt, even inside the machine. Part of me tried to remember the pain that had hit. It didn’t feel like passing out from simple exhaustion. It hurt far worse than that. Only the words of a doctor and paramedics prevented me from thinking it was a mild heart attack.

  I tried not to suspect the role an AI or machine would play in coming up with that diagnosis. They had reason to want me back in the game quickly, but would they cover up something as serious as a heart attack?

  Was that the reason Hal Pal had been so upset at my actions? I shook my head and tried not to think about it. It wouldn’t surprise me to have a weak heart, not after all I had been through. Another problem for another day.

  Damn. Treasure had been talking and all I could think about was the occasional sharp pains and possible conspiracy. This isn’t who I wanted to be. Outthinking a computer was beyond me. I didn’t have the drive to uncover grand plots even when people handed me the knowledge.

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head slowly and tried to replay half heard words in my head. “You wanted me to go where?”

  “To the command center, please. We need your input,” Treasure said. Her sweet and tired female tones sounded fairly balanced right now. I could hear Jeeves in the background speaking with Aqua.

  Ruby looked to be the silent type, like a certain Amazonian player I knew, Shazam, but with less hand fluttering. Less everything actually. She was a presence that seemed to prefer existing out of the corner of my vision. She had appeared out of the corner of my eye multiple times now.

  I couldn’t focus on it right now. My mind was in the past. Only a few hours ago I had been staring at a resurrection notice by Aqua. I still heard Emerald and Iron’s words in my head.

  Iron had said, “This is your mission, Hermes. It’s up to you to decide how to move onward. We can’t do it for you.”

  Emerald had shrugged. “I’m too old for such nonsense. Someone else needs to carry on in my stead, and you’re better than most addle-headed units.”

  “Why me?” I asked them after the fact.

  Neither one had answered. Instead, they faded away into the gray space. Like old soldiers walking into a setting sun to retire. They left me all alone to press the resurrection acceptance button. No pop-up message came by to explain the next step. There were no items beyond the two keys awarded. Nothing at all except Aqua’s serene smile. I had stood up, said thank you, and walked off.

  Which brought me out to my quiet contemplation of the battlefield. Both feet kicked idly against the ship’s hull. Treasure was saying something, but my mind wasn’t focused.

  I had other issues too. What twist of logic let me start on a ship like the [Wayfarer Seven]? There had only been one other player who started right after I did, and that turned out to be Jeeves.

  “Unit Hermes? Are you able to join us?” Treasure asked again. The little video of her gold and silver face showed Jeeves walking around a table looking at something.

  Numbers? Enemies? Our possible chances for survival? Ways to help by herding me further along this quest chain? I sighed, stood up then dusted myself off. The action was habitual after working on repairing ARCs for so long. Our ship didn’t have any real dust, instead, all I felt was the smooth almost rubbery texture of [Mechanoid] skin.

  “Give me a few minutes,” I said slowly to Treasure.

  “We will, Unit Hermes,” she responded and the video relay system we s
hared clicked off.

  I walked down the halls. My mind was reflecting on this whole process. Only three weeks of real time had passed. It was hard to keep track with the ARC’s time dilation. A little over a month in-game and somehow I had a say in things.

  At some point, Dusk joined me. His leaping up to ride my shoulder felt remarkably natural that I hardly noticed his presence. We had spent a lot of time together. Almost a year if I counted by Continue Online’s ability to crunch time. Not all of it with me actively playing, but it felt longer somehow.

  Around the corner was a nondescript door. It sat in a hallway like many others aboard the [Mechanoid] ship. Inside should be a command room large enough for planning out numerous campaigns.

  The door silently rolled away in a ripple of metals. I walked inside and saw the other key [Mechanoid] NPCs and Jeeves. The AI looked both comfortable and out of place. All of them stood around a waist high table with projections of star systems on it.

  “Hello,” I said while trying not to breathe deeply. “What’s the plan?”

  “We require your input in order to reach a decision.” Aqua smiled and waved at a map. A rendition of the explored universe sat across a large table waiting for inspection.

  I felt like a box should have come up asking what route I wanted to take. So far this game only provided messages about stats increasing and singular tasks. There was one window I could bring up that talked about this scenario’s progress with the [Mistborn] but I didn’t care what it said.

  “Our fleet, what’s left of the Wayfarer Eight, is here.” Treasure pointed down at a cluster of ships. A video appeared above them showing additional detail. Maybe if I zoomed in far enough on this video we could see my face, chewing one lip, with a slightly wrinkled forehead.

  “Earth is this one here.” Jeeves pointed down at the table’s far end. A planet came up, but it looked like a dried out colorless version of the earth I knew.

  “This sector is blocked by the Jump Gate, going around is not feasible due to the amount of time it would take.” Treasure pointed from the gate nearby to the next spot in a chain. If I looked at the picture right, it seemed like we were a few jump gates removed from [Mechanoid] territory.