by Domino Finn
The vagrant was flabbergasted. He looked around, picked up a rock on the ground next to him, and handed it to me. "It's dangerous to go alone! Take this."
I blinked dumbly at the stone.
"Now get outta here," he muttered. "You're hogging prime real estate."
I turned to Kyle for sympathy but he shrugged. I scowled, tossed the rock, and continued down the road.
"You know," said Kyle, rushing to keep up, "I'm not the best player to give advice, but you really shouldn't go around handing out silver to anyone who asks. That guy probably has more coin than you."
I grumbled under my breath at how angry I was getting. I didn't know why, either. Being a little put off would be one thing, but this was unreasonable. All I could do was clench my jaw and walk. My blood was boiling. Every single person I passed on the street was another coal added to the fire. Another potential threat, scammer, or bully. Was this all the afterlife was?
After. Life.
I suddenly grasped the source of my ire. This wasn't about a silver piece. This wasn't about the Mexican Brienne of Tarth. My problem was much more existential.
"All these people in the streets," I said. "They're all dead?"
"Of course," answered Kyle matter-of-factly. "Unless they're NPCs. Then they're just AI. But there are lots of us here. Haven's been running a while."
I veered away from the packed city toward a small field of grape brambles. A low stone wall lined the property. I followed it without much care for where the road went. Kyle was happy to let me lead.
"Afterlife Online," I chuckled bitterly.
Kyle scratched the back of his neck. "That's pretty much the point of Heaven, right?"
"It's just wild. You and me and everyone else is running around a simulated RPG and there's a whole real world out there."
He nodded. "I see what's going on here. The wonder of Haven is wearing off and you're realizing you miss people. Did you have a special someone?"
"A girl?" I scoffed. "No way. I was only in Portland two years. I spent most of that time competing for my career. I worked with some amazingly smart people."
"Friends?"
I paused and kicked a sandal in the dirt.
"Well, fuck it. What about family? I mean, everyone has a mom and dad, right?"
I chewed my lip, listless. "My dad hasn't been around since I was a kid. And my mom's not altogether there anymore. The aunts and uncles never got along with her. Now she stays at a special hospital. It's just me and Derek."
I sat on the stone wall lining the road. My little brother was only nineteen. I'd taken him to Portland with me. Made sure he finished high school. I was supposed to watch over him, but I'd done a mixed job at best.
"I'll never be able to give him advice ever again," I said, every word cementing the hard reality.
Kyle swallowed. "Hey, man, it's okay. You can't think about it too much on your first day."
"I'm really dead."
"It'll get easier to process."
My face twisted in sorrow. "What's there to process? Derek needs me. He can't pay the rent bussing tables. Here I am, running around in a tunic and sandals, and he... Does the outside world even know about us?"
Kyle sighed and parked his butt beside mine. "Not totally yet, but they will. Connectivity with the living is a large part of this."
I sprang to my feet right as Kyle was about to hang his arm around me. "What?"
"What?"
"Connectivity?"
"Oh," he said. "I don't know, exactly. A two-way news feed. Video chat. That kind of stuff."
"You mean I could talk to Derek?"
Kyle waited to see if I would sit down again. When I didn't, he joined me on his feet. "Look, don't get your hopes up too soon. Kablammy beta tests features all the time. We don't have access to that one yet."
I ignored his protest and opened my menu. The profile bar at the top was clear of notifications. I clicked the mail icon but it was only built for players. No living contacts. Undaunted, I selected the giant green help button. It chimed and five seconds later Saint Peter appeared beside us.
"Ah, Tod. How are you getting accustomed to Haven?"
"Tad Lonnerman," I corrected. "I need to speak to my little brother, Derek Lonnerman. My death left him all alone. I need to get word to him that I'm alive."
Saint Peter considered us both with a neutral mask. "You're not alive, Tad. You're—"
"Okay, I get it. But I could still talk to him, right? Face time him. Let him know I'm around."
The Kablammy employee glared at Kyle. "You're supposed to be showing him around Stronghold, Kyle. Teaching him how to quest and test the game. Not spreading rumors about unreleased features. Untested features."
"So it's buggy," I said. "I don't care. I'm a game developer. I deal with buggy crap every day. I can help you test it."
"I'm sorry, Tad. Everchat isn't available yet."
Everchat. Catchy. I could just imagine the paid advertising.
"But you've got to be able to pull some strings," I argued. "There needs to be some implementation of chat I can—"
"It doesn't work like that," he chided. "You must realize how vitally important this feature is to the entire enterprise. It marks the first time in human history families can speak to their dead loved ones. Honor thy dead. It's the other half of why Haven exists. And if we rushed it out for every emergency a newly retired resident had, the exception would be the people who didn't want to phone home."
"This is ridiculous," I hissed. "There's a way I can see my little brother and you want me to grind out levels instead?"
Saint Peter's face softened. "I know it's hard, Tad, but that's exactly what I want you to do. You've agreed to test Haven. Your participation is what will give you the ability to speak with your loved ones eventually, but it's functionality that simply doesn't exist yet. The very best thing you can do for your brother is play along. Build up your skill. Familiarize yourself with the world. Be a team player. I promise you, I'll factor in your circumstances when it comes time to roll out Everchat, but you certainly won't get consideration if you fight us every step of the way."
That shut up the angry response I was about to spout off. Of course I understood feature development. Saint Peter's words were logical on paper. Schedules and deadlines were the lifeblood of game development, but they sure weren't compatible with human emotions.
I weakly tried one last appeal. "Can't you at least get word to him?"
"It's impossible," said Saint Peter, and he disappeared. The green help button stayed grayed out after he'd left. My ability to access him had been revoked.
"Harsh," said Kyle. "Look, bro, I'm sorry I brought it up."
I hooked my hands on my hips. Some Heaven this was. Dangling the possibility of family contact over me in return for services rendered.
"It's been a long morning," said Kyle. "But I have an awesome idea. A way to take your mind off things."
"Not likely," I said, but I appreciated the effort.
He laughed and wrapped an arm around me. "Trust me, bro. I've got just what the doctor ordered. It's time to spend your welcome waiver."
0120 Phantasy Star
Away from the Hill, past the Arena, on the eastern outskirts of the town lay the Pleasure Gardens. The grounds had higher acreage than any of the other properties of Stronghold, consisting of wide manicured lawns and rows of curated flowering bushes and trees. Walkways weaved between assorted cabanas and recreational facilities. The Pleasure Gardens were greener than the other parks, more ordered and tended, and offered a wide variety of leisure activities to spend hard-earned silver on.
As a new resident of Stronghold, my welcome waiver entitled me to, well, just about anything I wanted.
We strolled past the thermal baths and pools and exercise areas. Past the grand library outfitted with peaceful reading nooks and cozy fireplaces. There were massages, music, and refreshments in fancy tea houses. It was jarring to transition from the Stronghold slums to a
five-star resort, but that wasn't the only surprise.
Kyle led me to a complex of breezeways. A watchman in a chain mail vest guarded the entrance. "Pleasure?" he asked.
"I'm gonna show him around," said Kyle, prompting me for the waiver. I handed it to the guard.
"Another first timer," he chuckled. "Hold onto your breeches. Room four."
I followed my roommate down the hallway with concerned anticipation. The outdoor halls magnified our lonely footsteps. In all of the Pleasure Gardens, I hadn't seen more than two stray players. That meant the place was expensive and frivolous. Trafford may have handed out a full suite of welcome kits since the wipe, but something told me only true first timers received the welcome waiver.
We approached an unassuming door with Roman numerals on it. We zoned inside into a separately instanced room and I knew I was in for something special. Most of Stronghold was a single level so far, a global community of players sharing the same space. Our home had been the exception, which made perfect sense. That space was for me and Kyle. I doubted other players could even enter without our permission.
This room was essentially a dungeon. A separate level just for... what, exactly?
"Welcome to the media room," announced Kyle.
It didn't look like much more than a KTV room. An empty space with cushioned benches and tables circling the walls. My friend waved me forward.
"What's your favorite movie?" he asked.
"Uh, I dunno. What is this?"
"Just pick a movie you like. Something exciting."
"Okay. Inception."
Kyle smiled and pointed to the far wall. When I looked, an elevator dinged. It was at the end of a long hotel hallway. Not only was I there but I was approaching it, confidently marching to a driving violin score. The two metal doors slid open and a gruff man in a suit exited the elevator.
I lowered my head and ducked around the corner, now completely immersed in this fictional world. My hair was slicked back and I wore a smart tie-and-vest combo. I pulled a pistol from my belt.
"Holy shit," I whispered. "I'm in the movie."
The security guard turned the corner and I tried to shoot him. He batted the weapon away with a martial arts move and we locked into a back-and-forth struggle of punching and shoving.
A blaring horn section came to life and the whole building tilted sideways.
I threw the man down the hall as I barely grabbed onto a door frame. The collision was hard, but he was still fighting. Both of us, somehow, were stronger than we should've been. Possessed of knowledge and power we shouldn't have had.
The hallway leveled out horizontally, not a pit anymore but spinning like a funhouse tunnel. I charged the man as he climbed to his feet. My dress shoes stomped over the walls, doors, and ceiling, deftly maneuvering through the rotating world until we crashed into each other. I flipped him around with practiced precision and slammed him into the wall. We tumbled through a door and into a hotel suite where we both maneuvered for the loose gun. Through several tense moments of grappling, the music grew to a desperate crescendo until I managed to scoop the weapon off the floor and fire right before he struck me. The man slid lifelessly across the floor. Sudden silence. I had won.
I turned to Kyle, who was silently sitting on the wall bench with his arms crossed. My eyes were wide. "I wanna do The Matrix next."
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. Frantic horns ramped up.
I twirled around, black overcoat swinging outward in slow motion, black leather pants splayed out to my sides in a low stance. This time I raised a pistol in each hand. The agent was standing across the skyscraper rooftop, anticipating my move. I emptied both magazines but he blurred into multiple twisting bodies, unharmed.
"Trinity!" I cried. "Help!"
The agent responded with his own pistol. A statue of cold technique, he fired straight and true. Except, again, I could break the rules of the world. I was more adept. The rounds flying my way were laughably slow. I shot my arm behind me and leaned back as the bullet whistled past me, rippling the air in its wake. The barrage continued and so did I, leaning impossibly lower, swaying around the attack.
Two bullets grazed me and I collapsed on my back. Pain—actual pain, not a damage notification—stung me into shock. I looked up as the agent stood over me, pistol raised.
"Only human."
"Dodge this," said Trinity, and blew his brains out.
I sat up slowly, gawking at the media room as it really was. "That felt amazing!" I told Kyle.
"It totally is."
"Except that actually hurt."
"Yeah. You feel the pain, the emotions, the exhilaration of whatever it is you're supposed to be experiencing. That's part of the point. Sometimes you wanna feel alive, you know?"
He continued wistfully. "My favorite movie clips are the dogfights in Top Gun. But then I get to the part where Goose dies and I just can't take it, bro. There's something about that scene that breaks me. Doesn't keep me from replaying it, though."
I didn't think that was so weird. Being in a sim was the weird part. Living as an ideal representation of myself. It was sanitary and logical but was it really real? Maybe it was true that ugliness needed to exist for there to be true beauty. I wondered about this holodeck 2.0.
"So I could do anything here I could have done on earth? Not just movies?"
"It's not a virtual world," he answered. "If you want that, you've got Haven. This is a media room. You can watch passively or take part. You can act in a Broadway production, be the lead singer of your favorite band, or immerse yourself within any video game you want. It's a mix of your imagination and memories and the actual media that exists on Kablammy's servers." He leaned toward me and spoke conspiratorially. "And they have everything."
I released a breath, imagining the scope of it all.
"You get my point?" he asked.
"I think so."
"I don't think you do. Have you considered... nontraditional movies?"
I arched an eyebrow.
Kyle chuckled. "You know, like video clips. You can take part in certain 'movies' you might be familiar with from the internet."
I stared at him flatly. "Porn."
"You got it. I'm sure you can summon a specific favorite to mind."
"Yeah, right." I snorted at the ridiculousness of it, but I couldn't not think of something. It just happened subconsciously.
Jenna Jynx stretched against the butterfly machine in the gym. She wore tight sweat pants and a tank top that was too small to provide practical support. Her ample cleavage was on full display as she arched her arms and shoulders back. Beads of sweat ran down her neck and disappeared under her shirt.
"I'm sore," she complained.
Kyle chuckled again and stood up from his perch. "You've got good taste," he said. "I'll just leave you two alone." He headed for the door.
"No, seriously," I protested.
"What do you want me to do? You heard the lady, man. She's sore. Go for it."
Suddenly I was helping Jenna up and laying her back on a gym mat. The door closed behind Kyle and it was just me and the girl with perfectly airbrushed skin. Despite ostensibly working out, she wore full makeup and her long brunette hair was perfectly curled.
"Maybe you can help me work a kink out," she said with a suggestive wink.
I gripped her thigh and leaned her knee into her chest. Although I was a personal trainer, I wasn't being especially professional about the situation, meaning my crotch was firmly pressed against hers.
"Feel better?" I asked awkwardly.
She closed her eyes and moaned. "Oh, yes."
Okay. All right. I'd barely done anything but whatever. I guess she was really into flexibility.
"Ooh, like that," she said, grinding into me. Her other leg wrapped around my waist and her abs hardened into perfectly taut muscles. She clasped both hands around my neck and I flipped our positions, moving to my back and lifting her above me. She landed with an excited shriek. Her bal
looned boobs hugged my face and I got a little excited too.
"You're a bad boy, aren't you?" she asked. Strangely, she didn't really want me to answer because the next thing I knew her tongue was down my throat.
She tasted like strawberries, as I always knew she would. That must've been the "memories" part of the media room. As far as I knew, video streaming hadn't yet achieved flavor technology.
She broke away and sat up on me. With deft acrobatics, she flung her tank top over her head till it was at her wrists. Then she twisted her arms behind her back and wrapped her top tightly like a pair of handcuffs. The effect arched her back into a comic book pose. Her breasts were the most sculpted, perfect, fake things I'd ever seen. And I was in a freaking DR simulation.
She thrust against me, and boy did I feel it. It wasn't just the rushing blood and tingling. There was an emotional connection too. A strong sense of need and passion and lust.
Jenna smiled and ran her tongue across her lips. "Maybe you could show me what you can do with these punching bags."
Wait, wait, wait. That was just weird. Maybe lines like that had a place in fantasy porn, but people didn't really talk like that. Kyle had been right about this place. The emotions, they sure made me feel human, but Jenna Jynx was anything but.
"Excuse me," I said, trying carefully to grab her without touching anything sexual. A tall task, with her proportions. I couldn't reach for her arms either because that brought my head dangerously close to what I was trying to avoid. Eventually I settled on clamping around her waist. Even that body part was more tempting than I'd anticipated. Her hard stomach and compact waist gave in to surprisingly soft hips. I couldn't get a grip on her without my fingers grabbing her amazing ass.
As gently as I could, I unstraddled her grinding pelvis and placed her on the mat beside me.
"Oh, yes," she said. "Just like—"
Her face froze in shock when she realized she wasn't on me anymore. She perked her lips out in confusion a split-second before she vanished along with the entire gym.
Just as I'd figured. The system couldn't improvise. She wasn't AI. She was playback. A replay. Nothing in Haven was technically real, but even given the virtual surroundings, Jenna Jynx was a pale imitation.