Void Legion

by Terry C. Simpson

  “I understand all that.” Dre furrowed his brows. “What I’m asking is how do injuries and death work that makes a player and Equitane need the waiver?”

  “Because some of your experience can affect real life.” Sidrie gestured to the doctor. “Dr. Redmond can explain the details better than I.”

  “In-game wounds are visible, must be healed or treated, and recovery time depends on severity,” Dr. Redmond said. “Your real-world body won’t have the physical signs of injury, but as we mentioned, the nanites are receptors and can and will transfer an approximation of your pain from the game.

  “However, we control the process, and while we limit the pain intensity to make the experience mostly enjoyable, we feel the stimuli is necessary for realism and to push the mind. Pain. Fear. The idea of injury. Threat of failure. The euphoria of victory. The adrenaline rush that comes with such things are all vital facets. Since we shoot for the full gamut of emotions, pain is a part of the process. Even limited.”

  Dre nodded. “I guess that could work.”

  “Some type of pain also serves an additional purpose,” Dr. Redmond said. “Just like life, pain is a warning that you might be doing something incorrectly, protection of sorts against stupidity. If there were no consequences, players would attempt ridiculous things. We’ve seen it firsthand.”

  “Trying or doing the ridiculous is a draw for many,” Dre argued. “Power fantasy. If we wanted everything the same as in reality then we wouldn’t game.”

  “There’s more than enough of the fantastic to satisfy any appetite,” Dr. Redmond countered.

  “Alright.” Dre nodded. “How does HP work with this system of yours?”

  Dr. Redmond turned his hands palms up and shook his head. “Do you have Hit Points in real life? The amount of damage a player or NPC could take is directly affected by their armor, strength, fitness, proficiency in certain skills, and a number of other factors, but there is no metered indicator.”

  “No indication for damage done or received at all?” Dre narrowed his eyes.

  The doctor shook his head. “Numbers and meters? No. Information Memory will tell you the overall damage a weapon can deal and its Damage Per Second or DPS-”

  “I know Damage Per Second means DPS,” Dre said. “I’d say I’m not a noob, but you know this already.”

  “Point taken.” Lips pursed, Dr. Redmond nodded once before continuing, “As I was saying, you’ll know a weapon’s total damage and DPS when you initially possess it, but when you’re fighting you won’t see the damage delivered in numbers. Players must be diligent and look for the physical signs. We believe this particular twist on gaming adds realism, more tension, a heightened sense of danger.”

  Dre nodded. He could understand the thought process, particularly where danger was concerned. But there was a certain rush a player got when a boss was on its last few percent that he felt would be missing. Or the fear instilled by visibly depleted HP. Which was better? More enjoyable? He couldn’t say, but it could make for an interesting discovery.

  “And death?” He was still trying to wrap his head around no HP. How would players know when to heal?

  “In-game death means loss of items in your possession at the time,” Dr. Redmond said. “You’re given an automated respawn location, and you can return to the spot you died to reclaim the items if someone hasn’t found the remains.”

  Dre wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea, but he guessed it could work. Something else bothered him. “Is there a real-world effect of dying?”

  The doctor hesitated and glanced toward Sidrie, who nodded. “Respawning in-game after death can take a few hours for players under Total Immersion.”

  Dre shook his head in confusion and annoyance. “Didn’t answer the question, but I’ll bite. Why so long to respawn?”

  Dr. Redmond took a deep breath. “Real-world recovery time. In-game death causes a disturbance in real-world brain function and can make the heart stop for a few seconds.” Dre opened his mouth but was at a loss for words as the doctor continued, “TNT kicks in to fire your brain impulses and heart. Think of it like a defibrillator for both organs. The result is a short period of debilitation. We ensure the player is fully recovered before returning them to the game.”

  Dre snapped his mouth shut. Grimacing, he said, “No wonder you didn’t wanna mention it. Who the hell would volunteer for that?”

  “The right motivation can make a man try anything,” Sidrie said.

  “The recovery process has yet to fail,” Dr. Redmond said. “We could shorten the recovery time, but it’s possible for too many in-game deaths close together to cause loss of some brain functions in real life due to continual revival.”

  “Why even tell potential players about the side effects?” Dre watched the techs continue to work. He was thinking of refusing the offer, but these people had helped his family in his time of need. Mom would be dead if not for them.

  “It’s in the waiver,” Dr. Redmond said. “But to be perfectly honest, we withheld such information at first. However, as with pain, we found testers were more likely to play recklessly, thinking they could simply revive indefinitely and continue on. We were forced to put a stop to that.”

  Dre thought of his side and arm. “Earlier, you mentioned recovery time for wounds. Mind explaining?”

  “In game, minor cuts and bruises last seconds, healed by a mystic or by a health or rejuvenation potion. Something more serious takes longer. You’ll suffer comparative debilitation. Use of sayyy, a broken arm or leg would be impossible until the mind outside the game says its healed, which is generally induced through TNT within minutes. The more you play, the better your body and TNT adapts, and the faster the process. Although, I must say that handicaps do make for interesting and challenging combat.”

  Dre smirked. “Challenging, maybe. Interesting? Fun? No.”

  “Depends on your idea of fun.” Dr. Redmond shrugged. “For some people, such challenges are fun.”

  “If I said yes, how long are the sessions? A few hours?”

  “Weeks for the first few. Then we expand to months,” Dr. Redmond said.

  “Weeks without ever coming up? And you control when I come and go?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Redmond said.

  Dre took the Smart Glasses off his forehead. As good as the game and Total Immersion seemed, the idea of flatlining if he died in game bothered him. As did the time spent in game per session. The rest sounded too good to be true.

  “At any other time, a chance to test this kinda tech would be no prob,” Dre said. “A dream. I’d jump at it. But not with the way things are with Mom and Kai. Spending that long in game and the side effects of dying means I’m gonna have to say no. Sorry.”

  “Your mother and Kai are in the very best hands,” insisted Dr. Redmond. “Any risk to you is minimal.”

  “I guess, but still, I gotta be here for them. To take care of them.”

  “By doing this, you will be,” Sidrie said. “You’ll be their hero.”

  “I’m not trying to be any kinda hero. I just wanna do right by them. And that means Mom seeing my face when she wakes up. Kai being with me. Not strangers.”

  “You could think of it like a job,” Sidrie said. “A job that pays a million credits.”

  Dre opened and closed his mouth. The offer was tempting. The money would solve so many problems. But there was his promise to Mom and Pops. He frowned as he considered it. Playing the newest version of my favorite game, with tech that makes VR even better, and I get paid a mil? It was too good to be true.

  “Thanks, but I can’t,” Dre said without further hesitation.

  “Think about where you live,” Sidrie said, voice flat, eyes cold. “Coney Island is the last remaining place with a First Ward not overrun by DeGens. But it will be, soon enough. And it will be like a
ll the rest of the First Ward, filled with crime and disease. More than it already is.” Dre made to speak but she overrode him. “Alphonso did not leave you much when he died. And Theresa spent it all trying to keep those twins alive in defiance of Better Tomorrow. You had to drop out of college, work a dead-end job. A job you acquired only because the people hiring you owed your father. You have no money, you cannot afford–”

  “Bullshit.” Dre ground his teeth, his face hot. He would rather be anywhere than here. His mind reeled as he considered just how much the woman knew, how much she was playing him all along. He rubbed at his Two Ring even as the cruel knife of betrayal stabbed him in the gut. “It’s all bullshit. All the caring for them, and saving us… it’s all bullshit so you could run a guilt trip?”

  “Watch your mouth, boy,” Dr. Redmond began.

  “I’m not anyone’s boy,” Dre shot back. “I’m a grown man.”

  “I’ll take it from here, doctor.” Sidrie gestured to the man. Dr. Redmond nodded and made his exit. The door to the room slid open then closed behind him with a whisper.

  “Look,” Dre said.

  “You’re right. You have Theresa and Kai to consider.” Sidrie watched him with those hawkish obsidian eyes, her face expressionless. The blue light flashed in her eyes.

  “Good, so–”

  “Dr. Redmond is on his way to remove Theresa from the life support and transfection machines,” Sidrie said in her monotone. “I’m tempted to have them remove any organs we cloned. Or should I let her keep them?” Before Dre replied, she carried on, “Someone will get Kai for you. My driver will drop you off together in the First Ward. Or he can turn Theresa over to the Family Planning Corps first, and then drop off you and Kai. I will also inform NAIL of her crime and make certain they refuse to renew your green cards.”

  Dre tried to process her words. Images spun through his mind, each one more gruesome than the last. He saw himself and Mom led away by NAIL agents, deported back to Barbados. Kai was bawling the entire time as FPC took her, most likely to have her sent off to a foster home. He saw the FPC doctors performing an abortion, sterilizing Mom. DeGens attacked him and Kai, dragged them both into tunnels beneath the city. His legs became like jelly.

  “Good luck.” Sidrie turned on her heels to leave.

  Dre grabbed her arm and squeezed. “You can’t do this!”

  Sidrie hissed. She tried to pull away but could not. Her face became a mask of rage. And pain.

  For all of a second, Dre considered putting her in a chokehold. But then what? It won’t get Mom the help she needs. It won’t make our situation better. He let go, his arm quivering. “I-I’m sorry. Please, please, don’t do this.”

  Grimacing and rubbing at her arm, Sidrie stared at him. Those black eyes were pitiless beneath blade sharp brows.

  Dre deflated. “Just promise you’re gonna take care of my family and I’ll do whatever you want. I swear.”

  Sidrie smiled, a cruel, twisted curve of her lips. “Deal. Now, sign the waiver and the NDA. And if you ever touch me again, I will have you and them killed slowly.”

  Shoulders sagging, Dre put on the Smart Glasses. He gestured in front of his face. The virtual screen popped up. With his eyes he navigated down to the waiver and the NDA. He hesitated. And then took a deep breath and signed. The glasses took a retina scan to add to his signature.

  “Thank you.” Sidrie’s expression actually seemed sincere.

  Dre ground his teeth at the woman’s depravity. Don’t thank me, bitch, he thought.

  Something inside him swelled. Something primal, dark, and craving violence. He thought of what it would be like to toss her out of a moving PT or beat her bloody and drag her down into the First Ward and watch DeGens feast on her body. He squeezed his eyes tight against the urge to smash her pretty face.

  He found solace in the idea of playing Ataxia Online again, but this time to help himself and his family. He was among the best. It would be one of the easiest things he’d ever done.

  “Any regrets you harbor now will be gone when you’re in the game,” she said.

  “Whatever.” Dre shrugged. He wanted to ask why she was doing this but didn’t bother. Her reasons were of no consequence. Only her actions. “Can I at least see Kai and Mom before I begin?”

  “Of–”

  “Not through a holo. The real thing.”

  Sidrie regarded him for a moment, and then smiled, but it did not touch her eyes. “Certainly.” She indicated the door. “One of the guards will escort you.” He made to move. “Dre?” He stopped. “The better you do, the more time I will grant you with them. Do exceptionally well and I will also see to it that NAIL renews your green cards. Impress me. Reach level ten and clear Imanok Sanctum in the new zone on Maelpith Island within a few days.” She smiled mirthlessly. “At that level, you should find the GUM pairs quite interesting. Not to mention our updated Emperor KiGyaba.” She left through the opposite door.

  ******

  Dre followed a gray-uniformed security guard down a long hall whose air carried a whiff of disinfectant. The guard had to be in his early twenties and did not seem to pay much attention to anyone or anything. Dre wondered how capable the guard was with the Glock 60 sidearm he carried.

  Techs and business men and women bustled by, lost in their conversations and thoughts. Other than the occasional AGC, there were no other robots or androids, not even the latest models with eerily realistic skin. Dre supposed they were relegated to specific halls and paths to keep them away from humans.

  To Dre’s left, a line of windows offered a view of Downtown Brooklyn. The sky directly above was clear and blue, but farther out, at the city’s outskirts, smog formed a gray fleece that stretched to the ground to obscure the world beyond. Vacuums atop the buildings kept the murk at bay. As did the numerous massive EVTOLS that roved along the edges of the smog wall, equipped with similar technology.

  Equitane Towers were among the tallest skyrises, boasting two hundred and forty floors. PTs zipped along the invisible skylanes of the Upper Ward levels in an endless stream between the cluster of shiny building facades. A bulky Airbus maneuvered toward a docking bay in the Fifteenth Ward.

  Down in the Tenth Ward, which housed most of the shops, condos, and apartments for the middle class, pedestrians traversed glass-covered skywalks. A Maglev pulled into a station housed within a building’s belly. Hover cars glided along the broad, alloy thoroughfares at that district level.

  Far below, beyond blocks worth of empty space around the bases of each skyrise, emergency lights flickered on police drone patrols. Beneath the drones were the dark, ancient streets of the First Ward. Dre shivered.

  The guard turned the corner into a quieter portion of the Equitane Towers. He led Dre to the far end of the carpeted hall and stopped before a door. The guard put his eye to a retina scan, and the light above the door changed from red to green.

  “In you go,” the guard said.

  Kai was sitting in an armchair, playing Munsters and Minions. “Dre!” she exclaimed when she glanced toward the door. Dre broke into a wide grin. She leapt to her feet and dashed to him.

  “Hey, Bunny!” Dre snatched Kai up, pulled her close, and hugged her tight.

  Kai clung to him, her arms around his neck. She buried her face into his shoulder. She was warm, so alive, and smelled clean and fresh with a hint of vanilla.

  Unbidden tears trickled down Dre’s face. “I missed you sooooo much. I love you.”

  “Me too.”

  He held her like that for a bit before he set her down. “Let me take a look at you.”

  Kai was wearing blue jeans, a pink Margo the Minion-Master tee, and a pair of sneakers. She watched him with those big brown eyes.

  Dre nodded to her head. “Who braided your hair?” The cornrows went straight back and fell past her shoulders.


  “The android that comes to clean my room and bring me food every day. You like it?” Kai smiled and turned so he could see the back.

  “I love it.”

  “Dre?” She faced him, mouth downturned.

  “Yes, Bunny?”

  “Where’s Mommy? When are we gonna see her?”

  Dre smiled. “We’re gonna do that right now.”

  “Yay!”

  Dre took her hand, headed back the way he came, and knocked on the closed door. It slid open. The same guard led them.

  Dre memorized their route through the building to an elevator and up ten floors, an entire Ward level, then a few turns along carpeted halls to a wing busy with doctors in robes and techs in coveralls. The guard passed them off to Dr. Redmond, who took them to an area where they had to put on sterile coveralls. From there, they traversed another hall past a few guards armed with G60 pistols and NGSAR5 assault rifles. They stopped at a silver door. Dr. Redmond let them in.

  The room was the pristine white chamber from the holo. It smelled of medicine. Mom was in the same position on the bed, body mostly covered by a blanket. Tubes and lines trailed from her mouth and nose to several machines. Floating above her were the holos displaying her vitals.

  “Mommy!” Kai pulled away from Dre and ran to Mom’s side, her little feet pattering on the white tiles.

  It took everything for Dre not to follow suit. But he was certain Sidrie was watching. He refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing how vulnerable he was in this situation. He breathed deep, swallowed against the lump in his throat, and crossed to Mom’s bedside.

  Mom’s eyes were closed. She looked… peaceful. If not for the steady rise and fall of her chest, he might have thought she was already gone.

  Kai stroked Mom’s cheek and whispered for her to get better. Dre leaned down, past his sister, and kissed Mom’s forehead. Her flesh was cool.

  He stepped to Kai’s other side and bent again to kiss the covers atop the swell of Mom’s belly. Then he took her hand in his. Kai moved as close as she could to rest her little hand on theirs.