Continue Online (Book 1, Memories)

by Stephan Morse

  “I don’t actually use mine for much besides a few programs,” I admitted.

  “Why not? There’s so much you can do with them.”

  “I just-” haven’t felt the need or desire? Haven’t felt right playing games in general? Felt like I was tainting a promise made years ago? “I recently won something from work. And it got me thinking.”

  “What did you win?” She asked.

  “I’m not sure yet, it’s on my home ARC, but I think it’s a copy of Continue Online.” My eyebrows lifted and I gave a partial shrug.

  “Oh my god, Uncle, really? Are you finally going to play?” Beth was nearly hopping around the room now.

  “If that’s what the prize is, sure. You know I’d never buy it for myself.”

  “Mom said the same thing. We were going to get you a copy for Christmas this year.” Christmas wasn’t too far away. It would have been a perfect present.

  “Is it really that good?” I asked.

  My niece blubbered with her words for a moment before righting herself.

  “Yes.” She managed to get a single word out before laughter overtook her. “You’ve never seen it in person?”

  “No. Only the online ads and a few reviews.” All my knowledge of the game came from working on peoples ARCs and the few videos I had watched in the van.

  “Do you have one of those Second Player helms?” Beth ran over and looked up at me. She took after her father in terms of height. He’d been on the short side.

  “I do, I think. Hal normally makes sure we have at least one.” I said.

  “Get it, and meet me downstairs.”

  “If you say so, munchkin.” My niece was so excited that the nickname went by unremarked. I went out to the van and slid open the back. Hal Pal was on standby, but I could see the light signaling mild awareness.

  “Hal, be a Pal and check out one VRH Two for temporary personal use.” I felt clever for using the old commercial jingle from when Hal Pal’s were first released.

  Hal Pal blinked then reached out one arm to undo security locks on our panel of parts and plugins. Out came a full helmet that used to only be found on motorcycle riders. A burnished red color line ran vertically as mild decoration.

  “Yes, User Legate. Please remember to file a feedback form upon return.” Hal Pal carefully handed over the device. Trillium and The ARC Project both demanded feedback forms when employees used new equipment.

  I took the VRH Two and braced myself for the deceptive weight. The thing was heavy as a bowling ball but once on and logged in it would be strangely comfortable. The other reviewers stated there was no neck pain.

  I had only used it once. And that was a job to fix one person’s program. It was also one of the most awkward things my job had ever subjected me to. The client’s program hadn’t worked right, but it was only in a specific spot, with a specific, ugh, movement. Turned out the program hadn’t been intended to bend that way. Part of me was convinced the guy got off on getting me to ride along.

  I tried not to shudder at the memory and trudged inside. My footsteps would drown out any other noises in the house. Soundproofing had become nearly standard for most modern houses. This one was from the late eighties and probably missed some of the neater materials on the market.

  “It’s okay, Uncle Grant. You can’t hear anything from here.” Beth was already sitting on the edge of her ARC. Her feet almost didn’t touch the floor.

  “I’m sure that’s why she gave you the far bedroom.”

  “Only a few more years and I’ll be done with college, then I can move out.” Beth shrugged and tried to sound positive. I remembered moving out myself. It involved a lot of drinking and roommates who were questionable on a good day.

  Good times.

  “So how are we doing this?” I rolled the Second Player helm around and tried to remember how it was used. There, a plug to go into one of the ARC’s ports. From there we would have a wireless connection.

  “I’ll dive into the game, you can watch as a secondary,” She said.

  “I thought they were trying to be secretive about this stuff.” My brow crinkled in confusion.

  “On some things the game’s super tight-lipped, but even Trillium can’t stop word of mouth and someone watching it directly. I mean they could…” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess they don’t care that much?”

  “Well lucky me, I can see it and debate if I’m ever going to actually play.” I tried not to commit too much.

  “You better play, Uncle Grant!”

  “Alright, alright. I don’t even know if what I won from work is actually this game. Let’s see it.” I said.

  Beth smiled and laid down in the ARC. She had wristbands on either arm and one around each ankle. The key one was a band that went along the top part of her spine. It was kept close to the spinal column and could read nearly every signal that went down.

  “You’re using those?” I pointed to her ankles.

  “The wrist and feet?” She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “Yeah.” I hadn’t played a game that required them. “I’ve seen them for those exercise programs.”

  “Part of the program. Gives you some feedback. If you do something that exerts a lot in the game, you’ll feel it in real life.” Beth smiled happily.

  “Why on earth would you want that?” Bodily exercise while playing a game sounded painful.

  “Uncle Grant, I’m not this fit because I go to a gym all day.” She responded.

  I thought about it while Beth laid back and dialed in her machine. VRH Two, also known as a Second Player helm, plugged right into the middle panel on the ARC device. Slumping against Beth’s ARC would be slightly more comfortable than the floor. I slipped the Second Player helm over my head and tried not to think about the pudge that had built around my stomach. Maybe if I invested in a better dance program this waistline would have lost a few inches.

  That actually sounded kind of attractive. Play a game, dance a little, work out in the process. I would need to dial my real life activities back. Working a job like mine for so many hours would be rough if I was sore the entire day. Only Hal Pal’s constant heavy lifting would make this diabolical plot work.

  The Second Player helm wasn’t as good as a full immersion. Most of it was visual with a ghost of tactile sensation. Smells and taste were equally hard to replicate with only the headset technology. There was a reason the Alternate Reality Capsule required five hundred pounds of hardware. Comfort was only about twenty percent.

  “Log me in.” Beth preferred the vocal command to the physical interface I used.

  My visor went black and moments later Beth’s Atrium came into view. Everything she saw, I saw. It wasn’t like being myself in a game. This was me piggybacking on another person’s feed while still having my own mind.

  “Load Continue Character, delayed intro, five,” She said.

  “Commands loaded.” The ARC program responded. I was thrown off by the voice used for her ARC. Deep tones, reminded me of someone from my childhood who used to do movies. The name was hard to place.

  It wasn’t too surprising when Beth’s eyes flicked over to a wall of posters with men on them or when she paused and looked in the mirror. Her character didn’t look too different. Ears were slightly pointy belying an elf or something similarly fantastic.

  “Huh,” I said.

  “Everything coming through okay, Uncle Grant?” She asked.

  “Yeah. Are you an elf?”

  “No, demon, half demon, I think, technically. I was transformed from human to this after a long chain quest and reputation grinding.” She gave me an answer longer than expected.

  “Weird,” I said. A half demon race of some sort might explain the very faint sunburn that lined her characters skin. Beth, as a child, was an outdoorsy type. Though when I saw her at the door a few minutes ago it was pretty clear her tan had lapsed a lot.

  “What do you think?” She waved her arms around and did a few basic str
etches.

  I was stuck staring at the mirror watching her. It was really awkward staring at my niece for so long. She scanned up and down the clothes. The top was fairly loose and flowing. The pants were almost cutoffs. I could see leather pads over her knees, shoulders, and elbows. Nothing here restricted her range of motion.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I said as she started another round of awkward warm ups while staring at herself.

  “Oh shit. Sorry.” Beth laughed. “Habit. Stretching helps me move easier once in the game.”

  “Alright. I get that.” Like a baseball player doing practice swings to loosen their shoulders.

  “So Second Player will pick up nearly everything in-game. I tend to play in a partial immersion mode so most of the extra stuff like Guild chat and whispers are minimal.” She explained as one arm waved around. Beth was flicking through screens and pressing options that said off and on, though I didn’t have enough time to read them all.

  “There are guilds?” I asked. “And you can chat with them from anywhere?”

  “Sure,” She said.

  “That seems to counter this realism claim.”

  “You can play with everything off if you want, and guess at your stats and health. There are all sorts of features. Pain levels, skill assists, even uhhh…” My niece’s voice drifted off.

  “What’s uhh…” I joked.

  “Let’s just say some of the features are very real, and more than slightly adult.”

  “Say no more. Uncle Grant can do without you explaining how real interpersonal actions can get.” Never did I want to deal with that sort of issue. I remember when my sister had called me up and nearly broke down trying to handle it. Skinned knees and school projects were child’s play compared to the sex talk.

  “Some guys are, uhh…”

  “Beth.” I really didn’t want to hear her go on about this particular subject.

  “Sorry.” She apologized.

  “Even if I wanted to do that sort of thing,” and I hadn’t tried more than once since my fiancée “I wouldn’t look for it in a game. So that aspect doesn’t interest me.”

  “Alright. I only mention it because some players dress really provocatively.”

  “Why, Beth, I’m proud that you know such a complex word,” I said.

  She laughed. I smiled. We were back on comfortable ground. It made sense why she tried to warn me, though. If everything was as high in realism like her character in the mirror then that aspect would certainly have a lot of attention. Not only among teenage males. I tried to keep my sigh quiet.

  “I’ll head in. I think I left myself on autopilot in the city.”

  “Auto what it?”

  Beth had wandered over to the Continue Online game. She picked up the book sized representation from its shelf and tossed it at a wall which activated the software. What had once been a smooth piece of digital plaster was now a doorway. That was actually a lot more interesting looking than how I loaded my simple dance program.

  “Autopilot. It’s a log off feature. It allows your character to keep interacting with Arcadia while you’re out.”

  “Why would that matter?” I asked.

  “You get little bonuses, reputation, plus for people who have school, like me, or work, like you, we can’t be online all day every day. Though some people are crazy about it. You get more points personally than autopilot will give you.” She said all that as if talking to herself while in a virtual world. Sometimes the ARC device made things seem really odd.

  “That’s new,” I said.

  “Yep!” She put up one hand on the doorway and pressed heavily into the wall. “Display in-game.” The side of the wall lit up and showed a small character sitting on a park bench. It wore the same clothes Beth had on now. Beth on the bench held a series of strings being woven together.

  “Huh?”

  “The computer AI will try to get your avatar to a neutral point once you’re logged into the Atrium. That way there’s not any confusion.” My niece answered.

  That didn’t clear up my confusion. I made a few noises and kept watching. This was a wealth of information that wasn’t on any website I had seen. Experiencing it first hand, Second Headset, was useful. Even if I didn’t get a copy of Continue Online from work, I might pick up a copy later.

  “Ready?”

  “Sure. This stuff is useful, but I haven’t seen the actual game.” I said.

  “Right.” She leapt through the doorway and the ground fell away. Below, a globe similar to Earth rapidly approached.

  “Whoa. Whoa. WOOooooh.” I did not like the free fall feeling. My heart rate sped up. Both hands clenched in panic and tried to reassure myself that the bedroom floor was still present.

  “Gets you racing doesn’t it?” Beth yelled against the wind, miles up as the ground grew closer and closer.

  “Don’t panic!” Images of impending doom drove across my brain. Choices ranged from burning up in the atmosphere, landing and becoming a pile of mush, or a belly flop to end all belly flops. We got closer. Beth was looking around for me, adjusting the in game vision. She looked over to the ocean.

  “Look at that! You see it?” She shouted. The wind whipped by and ruffled her clothes. “I keep telling my friends there’s something in the water out there! It’s huge!”

  Her vision was over a giant ocean in between continents. For a moment, it looked like giant waves surged out of nowhere. A portion of water was darker than the others and almost seemed to crawl.

  “That’s…”

  “It’s awesome! I’ll get the skills to go out there before the end of college!” She shouted with a confidence only teenagers could feel.

  I was going to say frightening.

  “Look up there!”

  Beth flipped around in the falling air while I was busy watching the approaching ground out of the game’s peripherals. She seemed oblivious to my fears of falling from such a height.

  “Is that?” I honed in on the giant object floating up above.

  “A moon? Yep! Like the colonies! I bet we can explore it too! There’s an entire guild dedicated to reaching it!” That was admittedly neater than a giant whatever that was in the ocean.

  “Does it always take this long to get into the game?” I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. There was carpet beneath my fingers and dresser in the way of my feet. At least that’s what I felt. Visually everything felt insane with Beth’s dive from the heavens.

  “Nope! We’re doing a longer log in for you!” She shouted. The air changed. Sounds were different. Beth stayed laying backwards and refused to turn around. I actually liked the moon, it was far more calming than an approaching planet.

  “Can you do this every time?” A moon without buildings on it seemed almost innocent. It reminded me of childhood. I had taken the natural moon for granted.

  “Yep! Well, I can, it’s from a trait!” Her shouts were muffled by the wind.

  I might be sold already.

  “Landddinnnggg!” The last drop felt like hitting the softest, fluffiest bed ever known. Beth’s blinking caused pauses in our visual connection. I blinked a few times myself and took steadying breaths.

  “Huh. Rope.” She said.

  Multiple messages popped into view. Beth looked at them one by one. Status updates on her time in autopilot.

  Losses

  Resource: 7 Gold, 8 Silver, 54 Copper

  “What the?” These messages were very out of place. Floating like a modern hologram in a fantasy world. I knew it was fantasy because of the commercial and few videos online. If that wasn’t a clue, the tip of a sword on Beth’s waist or people walking around old houses on cobblestone roads might be a clue.

  Gains

  Item: 20’ Rope – Spider Silk (Common)

  Item(s): Multiple low-level Herbs

  Item(s): Two Meal vouchers Fan base has increased (Now: 42)

  Fame Increased by 40 (Partial credit due to Autopilot)r />
  “Sorry, they’re basic looking compared to everything else. I can’t keep the game world separate without something obvious.” My niece said.

  I nodded. The rest of the world was so visually stunning that these notification windows felt out of place. Almost like laughing in the face of realism.

  Away Time

  2 Days, 14 Hours, 34 Minutes

  “There’s other interface methods. One of my friends from high school has all of his pop up on a scroll he carries around. He’s super into the realism aspect and pretends he can only look at his stats once a week.” Beth was chewing at a lip. It was the same action my sister and I performed.

  “That’s…”

  “Neat? You always say neat.” She responded.

  “If you say so, munchkin.” My tone sounded resigned. Neat was a word that came out of me a lot.

  “Uncle Grant…”

  “What else is there? Are those event notices? Like you did something while offline?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The autopilot records what kind of player you are and acts accordingly. Here’s a funny one.” Beth swung our combined vision over to one of the notices floating nearby.

  Event!

  Musical Mess

  During your music recital, things didn’t go as planned. When it came time for the solo there were no less than three mistakes. As a result, you went on an eating binge and grew even more depressed while poking at your belly and frowning.

  Furthermore, someone at the main square recognized you as the girl ‘whose voice cracked’ during your big solo. (See Fame Gains)

  You’ve spent the last two hours putting your handcraft and sewing skills to good use, by making a rope to hang yourself with.

  “Beth.” I tried not to sound too worried at what had been displayed. Funny wasn’t the right word to describe those words.

  “Son of a bitch!” She swore as if remembering something.

  “Should we talk about that event notice?”

  “What? No, I missed the choir recital. It’s not that serious. I could have gained a lot of points towards my singing abilities.” There had been a skills window and another one with points going towards various character statistics. I barely saw an [Endurance] bonus go up little before she shoved it away.