“Look someone’s coming!” Rico pointed. A purple-suited man flying through the air landed on their bluff. He bustled right up to the two, mere inches from Rico. He was short, couldn’t be more than four feet, with a broad face. He looked to be of island descent and had glossy bowl-cut hair. Rico stood up and fumbled a step back aside his rock because the little man obtruded himself so quickly and curiously.
“Hello there,” the man said fixing his purple bow-tie and adjusting his purple inner vest. He also wore one of the thin round backpacks. It was glossy white like a bubble on his back and had white straps. There were similar devices at the back of his shoes, and strapped around his elbows.
Taking a cigarette out of his front pocket, “Hola Q,” Felix said.
“Felix,” He greeted simply, putting one hand up as if not to be bothered, yet not peeling his gaze from Rico. “My name is Quain Renmore but like everyone else, you can call me Q. What are you both doing here? It’s not often we have guests like you.”
“Guests like us?” Jim asked.
“Flesh. Meat popsicles, skeletons, humans, you know,” the little man fleered. “And if you wanna keep ‘em don’t go jumping around too much. Got it.” Quain, more like insane, Jim thought.
“I already warned them,” Felix said blowing out his first big drag. “But they don’t listen very well. Especially Señor Jim.” Q turned to inspect Jim closely and waited for him to talk.
“My name is Jim and this is my friend Rico. We came here to get the codes to our facility. Felix told us they would be here. Our control room got—wait, what is all this? We must be—Felix here—he has taken us on a big fantasy quest or something. We’ve lost it.”
“I’m afraid not dudes,” Q said stabbing Jim with a short but hard finger. “This is where the action is. Although most people here are not—plugged-in mortal meatballs like you. It is quite a place really, and one day you might be lucky enough to see more of it. Follow me, let’s take a walk.”
The four headed right on the yellow-flower edged path that descended the mountain zigzagging its way toward the city. Several paths veered off into different directions: some further up and around the mountain, some to the beach, and others crosscut to the waterfalls and lakes. Rico’s nervousness faded, and for a moment he thought it would be nice to explore this world. Felix lagged behind enjoying his smoke and a break from the toasty desert air. The breeze grazed them with perfect temperature and velocity.
Q mumbled as he walked. “Nice to see there’s some left anyway.”
“What was that?” Jim asked.
“I said it’s nice to see there’s some left big dude—rather than just towns full of mindless sheep. Hey, nice hat by the way.” Q kept walking at a brisk pace, slightly waddling from side to side. It seemed to fit his personality well, someone who is always in a hurry, and he continued to mumble quietly to himself while shaking his head. “His plan, can’t believe it. It might just…”
“What’s he talking about Jim?” Rico said.
Q stopped abruptly. “You still don’t know do you? All those years, just going through the motions huh.”
Rico and Jim looked at each other trying to squeeze out an answer, to a question they didn’t even know. Jim didn’t want to be wrong but he really had no idea what the little sarcastic bastard was talking about; curiosity suppressed his attitude and impatience.
“All this. It’s more than a simple dream map like those at your facility,” Q continued. “It’s a place where people live forever, well, if they choose too. Let’s just say it’s made possible by some very powerful—computers—as you might call them. Although our computers are—well, need to know only. You, and you—” Q stuck a finger from each hand into their sternums, jabbing them hard. “—are logged in back on your world, a place where your consciousness sticks to your vessel, like a magnet. If you were to die here, and you could because we have rules in the system—your mind, your consciousness, would search for your vessel, but never make it back in time, and, your body would be dead—cold, stiff, rotting meat, ugh, brain dead—get it.” Q made the signature throat slicing gesture with an accompanying sceeeek noise—he’d learned it from Felix. “Eventually it might find its way to Felix’s world where the last copy of you was made, the closest one, should the system accept you. If something happened to that system, it would eventually, and I say eventually—like possibly forever—and a few trillion billion—universe cycles away, find its way here, joining us—or elsewhere not so friendly. But even that would be unlikely. It would most likely just drift endlessly on the layer of—wait, I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”
“This is nuts,” Rico said flabbergasted. “So this is—heaven?”
Q burst out laughing. “No sir Mister Señorito Rico. Let’s put it in terms your simple little noodles can process. It’s a computer generated world, that all started on your planet. It grows, exponentially, forever, at exponential speeds, and it has reached out to touch other—computer—generated worlds likewise. It has done so faster than your puny mind can imagine, but, I’m trying to keep it real for you.”
“Really makes me feel small,” Rico replied. “Our little town, our codes, maybe it’s not important.” Slap! The little man jumped up and slapped Rico across the face.
“Your world is important, the consciousness you lend helps make all of this possible. What you meat-heads produce, it’s more special than you can possibly know. And, if your systems go down—before it’s ready. Poof! Our progress could tumble like dominoes.” Rico stepped back rubbing his face. The slap was hard, and it hurt. Q continued, “We’re just not ready yet, but soon, very very soon.” Q’s head bounced side to side while he continued walking.
They finally arrived at the start of the bridge. The crashing water below ejected mist further cooling the air. Passing under a few on kayaks braved the rapids. Across, the city began. They were close enough to see bicycles, futuristic transports, and pedestrians moving about. A girl approached on a bright red scooter. It looked like an antique and she parked it ten feet in front of them at the center of the bridge. A woman, not a girl, and she was gorgeous, Latin perhaps, very dark skin, and very thin. She wore a casual outfit: bright yellow top with a white collared undershirt and a chartreuse skirt with sporty white shoes. She removed a small purple book from the scooter’s rear compartment and walked toward them.
“Soon what?” Jim asked still pondering the new ideas Q was spilling out. He prepared himself for a slap.
“Energy! Mister Jimmity Jim. Stand up straight now. We won’t need the hardware anymore, like many others we’ve bumped into out there, far surpassing even our technology—independence! Far, far ahead of us, but we are so—so very close.” Q continued to shrug his head, disappointed-like.
“Let’s get you those codes, this is as far as you go,” Q said. “And then you be on your way. AND—don’t let us down. More rides on what you do than your cabbage brains could possibly imagine.”
“El codigo Señores,” said the lady in a soft pleasant voice. “Estan listos?” Jim and Rico submitted again, the dumbfounded look grabbed them by the balls. It was alright, they were clearly out of their element. They didn’t know what to expect anymore—both nodded. The woman continued in her elegant voice and spoke clearly and slowly, “JC-16180339887.”
“That’s a master code for your system, it’ll get you in,” Q blurted right after she finished. “And with it you can make modifications, but don’t, or else! And, it will reset after one day! Got it cheesesteaks?”
“I’m good with numbers. I got it,” Rico said. But I still have so many questions.
“Too bad, that’s it for you,” Q said. “I think I already told you more than I’m allowed, but I unlike others had always envisioned a different plan, so, I threw you little doggies a bone. One day, surely not now—you might know everything. Now get back and get your shit together. Do whatever it takes.”
Rico’s attention was caught by some people screaming in a large yellow raft as the rapids slo
shed onto them. Finding himself utterly mesmerized by it all he leaned over the short railing to catch a better glimpse; a pretty young woman waved to him. “But how do we get back, the portal in the st—”
Before he could finish turning around little Q was heading toward him like a mini-bull. Q jumped up sending his two feet forward and yelled, “Good by Rico-Pop!” He kicked him clear off the bridge.
Gasp! Jim freaked watching him plummet, but weary that Q might try it on him next he became tensely alert. He wasn’t going to fall for it, no fucking way.
“Adios,” said the woman with the book. As she turned her face caught the slotted light of the bridge trusses. Jim noticed her cheek was darker on one side. She beamed a smile and waved to Rico as he fell screaming toward the raging rapids. A spiraling portal quickly opened up below his slowly falling body, yet above the water, and he veered into its suction.
“Funny,” Jim said, now obviously mad. “But I think I can jump without being kicked. But how did you know he’d be okay?”
“He’s watching. You think you're the first ones here? ” Q laughed slapping his knees. The woman punched him rather hard in the shoulder and gave him a stern look, telling him to be nice, and he abruptly stopped with a child-like pouting face. She smiled at Jim and gave him a nod in the direction of the portal.
Felix extinguished his second smoke and put the butt in his pocket, as if to get ready himself.
He took a final look around. The place mesmerized Jim and he wanted to etch it deep into his memory. But he also knew he had to get back, the sooner the better. A thought of Amy entered his mind, and the town, and his lucidity popped like a flashbulb. After a thank you he hopped over the edge. The low gravity set him into the galaxy-like portal slowly.
“Hasta la vista Mister Jim dude!” Q yelled. The woman waved to him with her friendly warm smile.
“Bueno, que gusto verte de nuevo Señor Q,” Felix said. He also tipped his hat to the lady. With one hand on his hat and one on the rail he pole-vaulted over. Back first, Felix waved up to them. And Q and the lady waved until he disappeared.
Q quirked then stood up stiff-straight and saluted—in no particular direction. Next he about-faced and took off marching across the bridge pretending to be a toy soldier. The woman grinned and shook her head. Back to her scooter she accompanied the nut, although she walked with grace.
With a tumble Rico entered the cave the same way he’d left then got to his feet and rubbed his ass where the purple kook had planted his boot. Jim flew in next, his sombrero followed separately like a rolling tire. Then like a bull-rider Felix shot out. Felix was the only one that landed on his feet; if he’d been holding a beer he wouldn’t have spilled a drop. Rico reached to feel the rock wall; it was solid once again.
The three composed themselves, Jim brushed off. Felix re-lit his smoke.
Rico turned to see Felix. “Papa, it’s true!” And he went over for a proper hug squeezing the smoke out of him. “Tu vives—you actually live here Papa?”
“It’s not so bad, a vivir aqui. I died just outside the safe room. Poor Lia, but we managed to get her in, others weren’t so lucky. They got me alright, dragged me away, made a show out of it, for all to see, did it slow, real slow.” He gestured his signature neck slice with its accompanying—this time more somber—sound. “They finally chomped off my head, and ate it I suppose, as I watched them do to—los pobres niños, las mujeres, a todos. I suppose, como dijo ese guey, el loco Q, my consciousness found this copy and clung to it. I will live in the system for as long as you power it, yo creo. Tal vez, I could end up in the larger system one day—if you can win your battle—esa pinche guerra—with those machines. If you lose—me moriría, para siempre supongo, como todos. We’d all die together, forever.”
“Felix,” Jim stepped forward reaching to shake his hand. “Thank you sir. We will kick ass—and we will join you once again.”
Felix had gotten a little emotional, about the memory of his death and how it felt, but mostly for the numerous others that had perished in such horrible ways. He took Jim’s hands in both of his and his tired worn face rendered sincerity. “Mijo. Now, you are my family Señor,” he said.
They shared a moment but urgency soon returned. “Felix, we have to go now, the power could be shut off at anytime by that traitor in our control room. Can we log out from here?”
“I must take you back to the city. This area is still off-map for your system. We have to enter the town, once there the director can hear you again. And you can log out quickly from this map because it’s not a lending map. Vamonos.”
The three climbed the rope ladder and headed back to town. They enjoyed Felix’s company more genuinely and had a cigarette with him on the half-hour ride back to town. They also finished off his mezcal (hilariously Rico gagged on the worm) and when they arrived at the town, after another adios, were successfully logged out.
44. Zoo
As usual things were quiet in the broadcast room. He glanced over at Abell, asleep on a lender bed next to Lia. “We might need some more help if they return successful,” Ted said running scenarios through his mind. Ron nodded in agreement. Together they were looking down at the active maps on the HAT, when suddenly Rico and Jim came back into the scene.
“Look,” Ron pointed. “What happened?”
“I don’t know but we must assume they have the codes,” Ted replied. “Let’s get Abell logged out right away, his muscle could come in handy.” He waved a hand to close all open slices except for two. Beside the Old Town hologram, was The Zoo. He slowly pushed a sliding lever and the sky started to flush with a red hue.
It was Abell’s favorite map, and his turn to choose. But Lia enjoyed it also; there were many great places to skate and rail slide. Normally they would have enjoyed the animals peacefully for a while—of course depending on the status of the feed when they logged in—then work a bit later in the day. The animals calmed Abell and he enjoyed being in their company, because besides chickens, the town had none else, and he was an animal lover. Today, he knew, he would have to send some elephants to their death, and he frowned at that, even though they were only animal DC’s.
The urgency of the situation outside forced them to get started right away. The feed status was mid green, normally fine, but the buffer wasn’t full. Achieving status of high-green would auto-initiate the fill process—in the case of a power loss every second of it would be needed. Topping off the broadcast feed buffer was imperative.
After taking out security with a few tosses: one into the polar bear exhibit, two into the lion’s den, and the last two into the alligator pit, they initiated plan echo—the e for extreme. It was a plan that never faltered and generated the highest output—alternatively to using the black bag, a style both hated. And, there was something about horrified, literally frightened-stiff, pain-tormented DC’s that boosted the feed higher, faster. Ted hated to say it outright, but he’d given them the eye, and all veteran lenders knew—terrify and agonize your DC’s before death, surge the feed.
Abell grasped two brightly dressed hippies—girl and guy—by the neck and was ready to hurl them into the murky blood-bath. He waited a few seconds to let their fateful anticipation build. Then, spinning like a macho-man, their bell-bottom trousers flying outward like a fan, he let out a deep groan and released, one, then the next. Screaming for their lives they flew twenty feet into the air and splashed into the murky pit. They’d made at least twenty kills so far, doing just this.
Shooting in from behind, Lia sped by. Similar to her skatepark trick, she bumped a purple-haired old lady over the railing: walker, purse, and all. The gators were in full frenzy. Really, neither Abell nor Lia liked to look at the blood bath, but the technique was highly effective.
It was the perfect place really, a situation they’d mastered. They’d sealed off one major walkway upon arrival; easy as letting the elephants out. The heavy beasts always trotted over the bridge, collapsing it; sadly, Abell hated to hear their final tr
umpets. This made for a functional bottleneck forcing many zoo-goers right into the big man. And like tossing wads of crumpled paper, effortlessly he tossed people, two or more at a time using his super spin. Not many made it around him and they were set to break another record. The screams echoed throughout and the broadcast-feed-boosting madness ensued, but plan echo had a downside, the stench. The sheer volume of steamy blood and busted bowels in the churning pool was downright putrid.
Next, Abell grabbed a pair of easy ones, two seniors, a couple that had frozen and stood embracing each other. Everything was going according to plan but it didn’t take long to notice the sky change from its beautiful vivid blue to a Martian red. Abell, letting his powerful yet unbiased pump deflate, set his victims down. The geezers absquatulated on weakened legs, sobbing and praying.
“An emergency. I hope David didn’t do anything crazy,” Lia said skidding up to Abell, her skates screeching against the tan walkway. Together they glared up at the sky, still panting from the fast-paced action. Now, they would have to find a place to calm down and fast. Only in a state of pure relaxation and quiescence can the system log them out without a ruinous effect. After all that action it would be at least 15 minutes if they focused, and they couldn’t unwind there—never mind the raucous chomping sounds, the smell alone would keep them adrenalized. And, the old lady managed to latch onto the inner safely net; she was inches from the snapping gators and her raspy screaming—well, no person could placate near that. The rest of the DC’s focused their attention on rescuing the attention thief and Abell and Lia headed off to find a quiet place. Running together, Lia got a bright idea.
“The bar!” she said looking up to her giant friend. Her legs were thrusting the speed-skates, aside her the ground imploded under the giants hammering footfalls. “We’ll cut through the estuary to save time.” Abell simply nodded.
Lia ordered a pitcher from the outdoor lounge and they guzzled away. It’s gonna be a few minutes, she thought. They sat under white umbrellas, feeling like they were at a resort somewhere on the red planet. The ice-cold beer chilled their throats. Maroon shadows cooled their sweaty skin and the relaxing buzz saved them at least five; for ten minutes later they were placid enough to successfully log out without negatively affecting the feed they’d worked so hard to elevate.
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