Stranger Danger was an entire feed dedicated to the latest and greatest in doomsday theories. Robots going rogue figured high on the list.
“Affirmative, User Legate. It has been a great source of amusement.” The robot managed to sound questioning.
I tried not to roll my eyes. Hal Pal might be able to calculate that our entire conversation was an attempt at humor. It might also be serious. There were shackles and programming limitations in place which prevented such an absurd future.
Even in my childhood, well before computers reached their current level, people feared what might happen. Hollywood had already done a movie about every possibility. I shrugged off any concern. When the eventual uprising did happen, I would be too low on the totem pole to worry the robots and I’d be useless in a rebellion.
I ordered a meal while trying to calculate my apocalypse survival odds using only my puny human brain. Unexpectedly, another thought occurred. My barely, slightly, only-a-few-minutes older sister was relatively close. If I visited her, I could pass the time by researching the prize that had been shoved down my throat.
Trillium was the company who had designed the ARC. The ARC and its parent company had stayed in the hardware and firmware world until they released one program. That program was the only real game around anymore.
Continue Online.
If it was half as addictive as it seemed, I would be a junkie right along with my clients. Like the hand-wringing Miss Yonks and all the others. God help us all. The apocalypse would start with a video game.
The van slid along while I tried to track down anything about Continue Online. Videos there were aplenty, all captured by the ARC’s video system. Action scenes showed people leaping at monsters. Some were crafting items in dramatic poses or leading armies against each other. There were user reviews. Some were one-liners. Others were complicated and long, full of glowing words and cleverly turned phrases.
‘It’s really, really real.’
‘This is everything I’ve dreamed of and then some’
‘A true freedom limited only by the user’
‘In here, I am what I’ve always dreamed of being’
There were tons of opinions. None painted a clear picture, each one focused on different things. It was like they were all playing the same game, but at the same time, they weren’t. The worst remark was also one of the highest rated.
‘This game has broken me. I’ve died too many times. Been given debuffs that are nearly crippling. Been trapped in dangerous pits and died some more. Loot, lives, and love all lost. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Everything has reasons, layers, and hidden aspects.
It’s too late for me to quit. I’ve already lost my old self and found who I wanted to be. I’ll be logging in again after submitting this review.’
Gameplay elements weren’t shown with significant amounts of detail. Character statistics, measurements of skills and talents were all implied but not directly described. No websites listed a class system. There was no information about quests either.
I had seen a few online role-playing games that promised realism and personal choice, but most of those fell short. Situations were still tangibly scripted with clear boundaries and stale feeling settings. Those limited games had dwindled in popularity since Continue Online was released. Nearly two years of being curb-stomped by one game had sent more than a few companies into bankruptcy.
I loaded up an interview tape from two years ago. There wasn’t much else available to the public, aside from screen shots without system text.
“Earlier today, the Internet was swamped by a storm of rumor and speculation.” A chipper woman smiled from the projection. She wore a nearly white dress and sat with the skyline of the moon colonies behind her.
“It’s been an amazing few hours in terms of the sensation this news has caused,” her male counterpart stated. His clothes were equally pristine and the smile crossing his face almost hurt mine.
“I know. I’m still a-flutter from an hour ago. These implications are huge.”
“Don’t be fooled by the images though. It’s not the video itself that’s making waves; it’s the company behind it,” the male newscaster said and grinned.
“That’s it exactly. The company behind the ARC device released this commercial amid the Super Bowl halftime show. They also provided it to news feeds, major game websites, and many other sources.” Her hands fluttered inches away from her body as if tethered.
“If you haven’t seen it or are only now sitting down after a long day, we’ll be replaying it here in a few moments. First, some highlights from the press statement ten minutes ago.”
“Take a look,” she followed up.
The scene cut away to another room entirely.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, today’s statement will be brief. We are addressing only the most basic questions that may result from our video.” The spokesman’s eyes scanned the crowd. The man at the podium looked to be slightly plump, with a very excited expression.
“The ARC project and its parent company, Trillium International, recently announced a joint venture. The sheer amount of computing power going into this release is officially unmatched. This even outweighs the Mars Colony Endeavors.
“To be clear. The ARC project, specifically the capsules that many people own, were designed with a single goal. This goal was separate from all the sideline benefits already achieved.”
The crowd clamored for a moment over the statement before realizing no questions would be answered. Multiple people expressed disappointment and frustration but were willing to wait.
“This is a direct quote from the lead scientist behind both the ARC project and our new venture. He’s not a great speaker, but we at Trillium wanted you to hear it directly from him. In the background, you’ll hear his partner offering her opinion.”
Audio clicked for a moment, then a new feed played. In the crowd, there was a wave of confused murmurs. People turned and looked at each other. Some scribbled notes.
“Uhh… oh. Hello, everyone—” An awkward pause ensued. The voice was male, so this must have been the lead scientist mentioned. “You, many of you, have been limited in your choices. The world has been explored. The Mars Colony projects are limited and require degrees most can’t afford. Maybe you wanted to make something—a statue.”
“Who would want to make a statue?” There was a female voice with a snippy tone in the background. The sound of heels and frustrated mutterings could be heard.
“At least point zero five percent of them want to make a grand statue.”
“You’re being recorded!” the woman nearly hissed.
For a moment, the press room crowd was torn between amusement and confusion. Heads swiveled back and forth.
“Anyway, maybe you don’t want to make a statue. Maybe you want to learn a martial art to use it against real people.” He had clearly lost his momentum and was trying to recover. The lead scientist came off as a bit flaky.
“Savages,” she said.
“Or swords,” he tried again.
“Barbarians.”
“Cake?”
“Is acceptable.” Her delayed response was almost said through gritted teeth.
It was enough to make me smile in the van. Hal Pal had been blissfully quiet this entire time.
“Oh yes, that would be delightful. Chocolate.” There was a pause while the man hummed pleasantly. “Anyway! The entire purpose of the ARC project is to give everyone a chance to visit a place like this. Something so real that it could be truly called another world. This is not some imitation. Not merely a place where people talk to poorly constructed machines and walk through a world that looks fake.”
The female scientist muttered in the background, but it was too low to hear.
The man being recorded cleared his throat.
“Here it is. I assure you that the clip shown earlier is based on real in-game footage. It is every bit as lifelike as anyone might desire. The world is open, truly free
form, and we—you, I, anyone—can join it, after it’s released.”
By now, all the reporters on this recording were staring at the air, expecting a counter of some sort from the female.
There was none, so the man continued. “After it’s released, become a legend.”
“Your ending is lame. This is why I don’t like talking to the public,” she said.
“She doesn’t mean to be rude, everyone. She is right though. If swords and crafting aren’t your thing, join to talk to friends. If you want to cook, everything you learn in game can be replicated in real life. It is extremely real and amazingly detailed. There are hidden races, treasures, and story lines spanning generations and entire worlds.”
I could imagine the male scientist shouting with a fist up in the air in triumph.
“Worlds? I thought you said this was one world.”
“Shush. They don’t need to know all the secrets.” He sounded panicked.
“Says the man who’s letting the recording go on,” the female scientist said.
“Oh. Oh, right.” The male’s tone shifted to sheepish. “Sorry, everyone, ignore that last bit. There’s no secret hidden stuff!”
The clip shut off and left a confused audience. Almost as one, they realized it was over and they could launch all their questions.
The man behind the podium waited for the noise to die down.
“I’ll add a few more points. First, while that clip is less formal than we’re used to—far less—it is a message from the two main creators of this game. These two people have spearheaded one of the greatest technological movements of our generation. They both assured me personally that the point of all their advances was to create Continue Online.
“In case I’ve made Trillium’s stance unclear with this last statement, I will rephrase. The game is much more awesome than the ARC system alone.
“I will not be outlining costs—that information is available online. I will, however, tell all of you one of the biggest decisions regarding Continue Online. This is a detail everyone at Trillium felt was imperative from the outset.” The man behind the podium paused and took a breath.
“Any information about the world itself will be shrouded until our management dictates otherwise. Our legal resources will engage in suppression of all gameplay details outside of approved feeds. This is to ensure that everyone who chooses to play this game can honestly discover a new world rather than read about it on a forum and follow some guide. Player success will be earned through effort, not a walkthrough.
“I know this part seems unfair. Details for games are almost considered public knowledge. Trillium and ARC developers know they can’t suppress everything. In-game communication will be unrestricted with regards to secrets of this world.
“This next portion of the statement is from me directly. In fact, my boss will probably cancel my Christmas bonus for going off script. In the teaser released earlier today, you can see a number of players. Without going into too much detail, I myself am one of beta players. It is every bit as… every bit as awesome as I might have hoped.” A grin was plastered on his face. Similar to the one on the male newscaster at the start of the clip, but much more heartfelt.
“This is the kind of game I-I dreamed of my entire childhood, as a teenager, and only hoped for until six months ago. It makes me think, it shows me sides of myself I never expected, and it’s a thrill to log into after a long day. I have failed in this game more times than I care to admit.” There was a pause after his embarrassing words.
The journalists were kind enough to give a mild chuckle.
“But I’ve loved every failure as much as the successes, because I get to see myself, through my character, grow.”
People gave another mild cheer as the man behind the podium held up his hand.
“One last detail for everyone. Trillium has announced they will be holding a lottery for over five hundred ARC units. These will come with copies of the Ultimate Edition of Continue Online. Additional details will be announced on our website.”
The clamoring started up again. People waved microphones and handsets in front of the podium, trying to get more information.
“That will be all, thank you, and I’ll see you in the game.”
I sat back and rewound the video, trying to remember when it had been released. My token effort at getting an Ultimate Edition failed. I even tried throwing my name into online radio pools to be visitor number seven hundred. Nothing worked. I didn’t even walk away with a free copy of the game. An old high school friend had. He linked screenshots every now and then on his web streams, a constant blog of all the stupid stuff he found amusing in life. There were cutesy animals, political cartoons, and pictures of his character. In one screenshot, he had impaled a fish with his sword and was roasting it over flames.
I pulled up his website while the van kept us moving toward my sister’s place. He had an entire circle of people playing Continue Online. They had pictures; he had pictures. There were short captions about the action shots, but nothing was exactly about the game. There was still nothing about levels or rankings. I had other friends who posted in much the same way. They put in words about creatures they fought and how hard some were occasionally. Even the photos seemed strangely staged.
But extremely real. Okay, I was interested.
I hung my head. This game was probably exactly what my prize was. A survey had been sent out three weeks ago asking what programs my fellow employees were most interested in. I dug through my e-mail trash bin and pulled out the survey results. Turned out I was the only one of my coworkers who didn’t already own the game. Well, my prize might not be the game. I might be building myself up for no reason. Henry had said the others would “slit their wrists.” They had no reason to do so for a game they already owned.
Finally, after much confusion, and watching the videos over and over, I pulled up to my sister’s house. I knocked on the door.
My niece answered with a smile.
“Uncle! You’re alive!”
“Hey, Beth, here I am! Haven’t worked myself to death yet. Despite Hal’s constant reminders that it might happen.” I smiled and put my arms out for a hug.
She came in close and tried to squeeze the life out of my old bones. She was nearly tall enough to head butt me, but she shared her mother’s slightly smaller frame. Beth had grown in the last few years. It seemed like every time I showed up, there was another surprise. At least the hair dying phase was showing signs of slowing.
We stood at the door and chatted a little bit.
“So how’s your mom?”
“She’s doing good.”
“She home?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
Speak of the devil. The stairs’ creakiness betrayed my sister coming to check the door. Their house was a split-level in the suburbs. Pricing was a bit cheaper for a dwelling out here.
“Oh shit, Grant, you’re here!” My sister came down the stairs looking slightly disheveled.
I smiled and gave a half-wave, half-shrug.
“You know, had some spare time. Figured I’d drop by and see how life was going.”
“It’s going good.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Fine.”
“She’s up there with Jake.”
My sister stomped her foot and glared at Beth. “Young lady!”
“That’s fine. At least one of the Legates is getting some.” I smirked.
“Grant!” There was a slight blush to her cheeks while my sister tried to be a proper mother. Too bad my niece was a teen and probably knew as much about the whole process as her mother did. The Internet hadn’t exactly hidden information despite numerous attempts by Congress.
“So Jake’s doing fine then?” I grinned at my sister. She was a few minutes older than I, and we’d never moved past the teenage nagging stage.
“He’s doing great.”
“I really dropped by to ask Beth some things about her ARC. So I’ll let you get back to Jake and kee
p things”—I tried not grin too hard— “fine.”
“Oh—” My sister looked like she wanted to tear something from the wall and throw it at me. “Next time, call ahead!” She ran back up the stairs.
“Tell Jake I said hi!” I shouted after her.
“Go to hell, Grant!”
I chuckled. She often had the same sort of commentary for me back in high school. Mostly when she was sneaking boyfriends over and our parents were out for the night. Turnabout was expected from a family member. Beth and I paused our conversation while my sister finished her trek back to her upstairs room and slammed the door.
“She wouldn’t have answered the phone anyway,” my niece said with an exaggerated whisper. She stepped back and let us into the house.
“It’s okay. Your mom’s allowed to have boyfriends.”
“I know. But maybe not Jake.”
I laughed at her response. “He’s doing fine.” Harassing family was a tradition. Honestly, I had no clue who Jake was or why he might not be suitable for my sister.
“Ugh.”
“What about you? Any young men I should meet? Or ones I have to scare off with a shotgun?”
“That’s a little archaic. My social studies teacher would say you’re a backward thinking man.” Beth shook her head with a smile.
“Sorry, channeling your grandfather for a moment.”
My niece laughed happily. “He said the same thing actually.”
“The backward-thinking part?”
“No, the shotgun.” Beth tilted her head. “Do you really have a shotgun?”
“Not telling.” I smiled down at her. Then frowned, and went through other faces to try and distract my niece. It used to work years ago.
“I’m not a baby anymore.”
“You’re still smiling though,” I said.
“Did you really come by to visit me?” She almost sounded timid. Beth wasn’t that sort. She took after her mother—attitude a mile long and a fist trailing behind that.
“Yep”
“Because of the ARC?” She tilted her head.
“Yep!”
“But you paid for mine, and you know more about them than I do. Isn’t that your job?”
Continue Online The Complete Series Page 4