“All right … ” He lifts Frances by the hair and slings her at me. “She’s released.”
She lands directly in front of Aiden and me. I’m too trigger-itchy to pay much attention to the fact that she’s naked.
In the time it took her to clear the ten paces separating Aiden and me from the Reapers, I’ve scanned the area twice with my ocular feed, looking for anything. Getting Frances was a bit too easy for my taste.
“Get behind us,” I tell her under my breath. Aiden helps her to her feet and I step in front of both of them.
“You got what you wanted,” Rollins says. “Now it’s my turn to get what I want.”
“And what is that?”
“I want you to come with me. You’ve already got the mask; now let’s make it official. If you come with me, I’ll show you the logout point; the Revenue Corporation will rehabilitate you in the real world.”
“Fat chance.”
I fire directly at him, but he’s suddenly not there and the beam blasts through one of his henchmen.
Rollins fires two consecutive, simultaneous shots from two widely separated points; one nearly takes off my right arm. My life bar drops to almost zero.
“FOOL! DO YOU REALLY WISH TO PLAY THIS OUT?” he roars, going from semi-sane to full-on berserker mode in no time at all. The remaining Reapers in his back-up band cover us with their weapons. “DON’T YOU REALIZE I CAN SLAY YOU!?”
I step forward and drop my weapon arm to my side. “Kill me then, shit-for-brains, and let’s be done with it.”
Aiden presses the muzzle of his AK against the back of my head. I don’t hear the shot.
Day 555
Damn the feedback.
My dreams cut short, demarcated, stitched to something that was once real and is now reverie in chains. Who wakes up in a dream and goes to sleep in a dream? Who kills in a dream and is killed in a dream? Whose life was once life and now is undeath; whose life was once life and now is feedback.
“Morning Assassin,” I say, rolling to my side. I access my cheese grater, item 27 and my nail gun, item 31. “I’ll fix his ass!” The plan is simple – beat the hell out of him then nail him to the floor Jesus-style and give the inner sadist that hides in the basement of my dark soul free reign with the kitchen implement.
I spring out of bed without looking around, without noticing that I’ve practically crawled over a warm body to get to the window. My back goes against the wall and it is only then that my eyes register the form in my bed.
“Frances?”
Her eyes open underneath a shock of thick red hair. The blankets shift off her shoulder and she scoots up. “I thought you’d never respawn.”
“What’s going on?” I take a step back, hiding my cheese grater behind my back.
She moves up even more, revealing her shoulder, clavicle and inevitably – breasts.
A knock on the door and Aiden the Morning Assassin steps in.
“Will someone please explain to me what’s going on here?” I ask, holding the cheese grater at my side.
“You were going to crucify me again?” Aiden asks, noticing my nail gun. “And use the cheese grater?”
“That was the plan … ”
“Really, Quantum, you are unnecessarily brutal,” Frances says from the bed.
“Well, I woke up thinking Aiden betrayed me and that I hadn’t rescued you. Lo and behold I find you lying in bed next to me. Now please, for the love of all that is holy, will someone tell me what’s happening here?”
Aiden glances to Frances.
“You first,” she says.
“I killed you so they couldn’t. If I kill you, you respawn here; if they do it you die here and in the world up there.”
“How do you know?”
“A hunch,” Aiden says. “I then used the repopulating hack to disappear with Frances.”
“The repopulating hack?”
“NPCs can repopulate at random. Some of us, the ones that have spent the most time with humans are directly tied to the NVA Seed, and have learned how to use this to teleport. I teleported here with Frances.”
“Why aren’t the Reapers here?”
“They’re probably on their way,” Frances says from her position under the blankets. “That’s why we need to hurry.”
“Why didn’t they just kill me while I was sleeping?”
“Because you weren’t sleeping for more than two hours,” Aiden explains. “Also, the laws governing Proxima Worlds don’t allow a player to be killed during their respawning period.”
“Wait, did you say it had only been two hours this time?”
“Yes.” A grin spreads across Aiden’s face. “I talked to the NVA Seed, who adjusted your respawning time due to the nature of your death and our dilemma. This isn’t something she can normally do, but she was able to do it this time.”
“You know the seed?”
“ … Um … I do … “
“There’s another reason we need to hurry.” Frances shifts her arms out of the blanket, and shows me her wrists which are still bound by the Reaper handcuffs. “The Reapers are looking for you in the real world.”
“But they won’t find me, right?”
“They will find you.”
“Okay, but the FCG will protect me, won’t they? I mean, didn’t I start the task force?”
“The people in charge of federal funding for the Dream Team have their hands tied. The senators from several states are in the pocket of the Revenue Corporation.”
“Surely the government has someone watching me.”
“You’re looking at her.”
“So who is watching my body right now if you’re here?” I ask Frances.
“Probably a Humandroid nurse. I’m in a rig next to your dive vat in the real world. Have been for weeks because these damn cuffs prevent me from logging out.”
I picture the dive vats, which are coffin-sized pools that allow a person full immersion into a virtual entertainment dreamworld. The liquid is slightly charged and made of a silicone-based gel that’s not much denser than water. They’re usually used for people who spend considerable amount of time in Proxima Worlds – or are stuck in digital comas.
“Well?” she says, showing me her cuffed hands.
“Well what?”
“Aiden gave you a mutant hack, didn’t he? A shining ax of purest gold?”
“No, I traded him for it. Fair and square.”
She sighs, rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Cut ‘em off me, then.”
I access the golden ax, item 554, and tap the blade on the cuffs. They disappear with a smoky “Fooof!”
“That easy?”
“Yeah, if you’ve got a mutant hack weapon,” she says, rubbing her wrists. Her hand goes up so she can access her inventory list. Not two seconds later she’s in her combat chic urbo-camouflage outerware.
“What now?”
“Now I log out and try and move you to a different location in the real world.”
I look to Aiden, “What about us?”
“You two need to meet the NVA Seed. Hopefully she’ll be able to help you locate the logout point. Things are really coming to a head now,” she says quickly. “If the Reapers capture you in the real world, they can use this as a bargaining point here in The Loop. If they capture you here, they can use it as leverage in the real world. This is the problem.”
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. What’s the best case scenario?”
“The best case scenario is that you find the logout point.”
“What’s the worst case scenario?”
She bites her lip. “The worst case scenario is they find your body in the real world. Even if they capture you here, I still have your real body in the world up there. But if they capture you up there… ”
World up there. It is still strange hearing to it referred to as the world up there. Something she’s said just seconds ago finally registers. “Wait, did one of you say the NVA Seed is a her?”
“S
he is,” Frances says. Her hand comes up and a logout screen appears in front of her. I’m instantly envious. “Good luck.”
“You too.”
~*~
Aiden and I hear the six assassins bitching at each other before we reach the bottom of the stairs.
“Can I just take them out again?” I ask him as we take the last step.
“I have an idea. Just give me a moment …”
“There he is!” the burliest of the bunch screams, and gestures with a medieval mace that looks like an angry steel pufferfish on a stick.
“Seriously? Who’re you – the Black Knight?”
“Come on then, no muckin’ about – let’s be ‘avin’ you!”
One of the assassins, the one I’ve pegged as Scottish – mostly because he wears a kilt – shakes his fist at me. “Are ya ready to finish this, Jimmie?” Scotty asks.
“Their accents are off … ” I tell Aiden. “It’s like listening to Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.”
“The designers wanted a variety of people to populate C.N. so they had voice actors create characters. Some were more successful than others. Follow my lead.” He puts his hands up. “Quantum and I wish to engage your services.”
“You want to do what?” the tallest asks.
“Engage your services. Hire you.”
“The whole lot?”
“Yes, as a security detail.”
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Aiden over my shoulder. “These guys aren’t exactly … ”
“Aren’t exactly what?” the shortest Assassin, the one with the sort-of Irish accent asks.
“Every additional friendly shooter is a good thing, especially if Reapers show up,” Aiden says.
“Right, you’re all hired,” I say aloud. A credit transfer screen appears in front of the lead Battling Brit, whom I’ll call Burly because he’s the burliest of the bunch.
“Well?” Burly asks the five other assassins. All of them nod, give thumbs up. He turns back to me, “We accept your offer, but no funny stuff!”
“That was easy … ” I start to say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scotty asks.
“Gentlemen, we have another meeting to attend, so we’ll make this quick.”
Jim the Doorman has been watching this the entire time and has a look of utter shock on his face.
“Is there a problem, Jim?” I call over to him.
“No, Mr. Hughes.”
“Quantum, call me Quantum.”
“Right, Mr. Quantum, my apologies.”
I turn to Burly the assassin and say, “Okay tough guys, here’s your chance to show me what you got. I expect an attack at any time now. I want you six outside to provide interdiction. Your job is simple: eliminate the hostile force – no mercy, no quarter, no prisoners.”
He lifts his mace. “With pleasure.”
Short Irish leans on his broadsword and grins. Next to him, Pip taps the bottom of his halberd on the floor. Scotty sheaths his claymore and tucks his sgian dubh into the top of his sock, while the tall guy, the Tooth Fairy, hefts a nail-studded cricket bat and gives a yellowed and craggy smile. Next to him is the Quiet Man who still hasn’t said anything. He’s carrying a buckler with a lion emblem and a short stabbing spear.
“Switch weapons, all of you. The people coming for me will have massive guns. Think less medieval and more twenty-first century.”
Double barrel shotguns appear in their hands. The quiet assassin wears a deer stalker cap. Burly has a hunter orange vest and Pip is in camouflage overalls. Scotty has a wicker creel and fly casting rod.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. Think… um… the Iraq War.”
“Which one?” Burly asks, as he reverses his shotgun and peers down the barrel.
I cock an eyebrow at Aidan; he responds with a slight shake of the head.
Short Irish says, “He’s right, you know. Are you referring to 2003, 2019, 2025, Operation Eternal Occupation, 2036, or the little tiff we just had in 2048?”
“You choose.” L85A2 assault rifles appear in their hands and sand-colored camouflage smears across their faces. The tooth fairy is in a chocolate chip bucket hat and Scotty’s styling in a brown-tan-black tartan kilt.
“How’s this?” Pip asks.
“All of you went with 2003?”
“Shock and awe, dude!” Burly says. “It was maybe the best war anyone ever ‘ad in Iraq.”
I turn to Aiden, who seems to be amused by my troubles.
“At least update your weapons,” I tell them. Heavier caliber assault rifles with attached grenade launchers and side-barrel PHASRs appear in their hands. Their body armor morphs as nerve-trigger weapons materialize on their shoulders. Five of them now wear helmets with Leak goggles. The tallest one seems partial to his bucket hat.
“That’ll do, mates. Secure the perimeter and kill anyone wearing a skull mask that isn’t me.”
“Right then, chaps!” Burly barks, “Circle up.”
They huddle up like football players, like soldiers about to saddle up for a mission, arms around shoulders, heads bowed. I fully expect a prayer; Burly surprises me. For a moment, he’s taller, broader, tougher. His voice changes so that he now sounds like Laurence Olivier.
“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.”
He catches my eye; I straighten my spine. A line from a movie comes to me: ‘Cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ I proclaim.
He smiles, nods, genuinely pleased, and turns to the other five.
“All right you lot, we’re on the clock now, so let’s get stuck in!” They bump fists, break, and bolt out of the front of the hotel, happy to be given a task.
I turn to Aiden. “Where to now?”
“Follow me.”
I follow Aiden in the dining area and instinctively turn to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To kill the chef.”
“Not necessary.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
We sit at the table I always sit at. “Is the NVA Seed coming here?”
Aiden’s eyes twitch slightly. “You still don’t know?”
“A woman, right?”
Dolly appears next to the table. “Hi, Quantum.”
“It’s … you?”
~*~
“You’re the NVA Seed?” I ask Dolly. There is no way she is the neuronal visualization algorithmic seed. That would mean … that would mean she’s basically the root of CN, the in- administrator of The Loop. Impossible!
“I’ll let you two kids talk,” Aiden says, stepping away.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Outside with the other assassins – every gun counts.”
His body quickly fades away and I’m left looking up at Dolly.
“Is it true?”
Her lips, painted crimson, squeeze into a small moue. She’s in her usual apron, her bobbed hair pulled back into a tight little pony tail. “Yes,” she finally says.
“Then … then that means …” I slam my fist on the table. “That means you’re the one keeping me here! You’re the one who has trapped me!”
She chokes back a small sob, wipes her face.
“Is it true? Are you the one!?” I shout, overcome with emotion.
“No … ” she finally says. “I don’t have that type of administrative authority.”
“So what … what is your role in all this?”
Her hand drops on the table and I instinctively pick it up. Old habits die hard, and Dolly and I have a history that apparently spans eight
years.
“I’ve been trying to keep you alive, keep you engaged, keep you sane,” she whispers. “And … and … ”
“And what?”
“I’ve, we … well, CN has grown used to your presence. When Frances Euphoria arrived, I was pretty angry. I didn’t want you to log out. I don’t want you to ever log out.”
“So you’re preventing me from logging out?” I ask, squeezing her hand.
“No, Quantum! Aren’t you listening to me? I don’t have that type of authority. It was a glitch in the master algorithm, something I have no control over.”
“Do you know where the logout point is?”
“In The Badlands, near Devil’s Alley,” she says.
“You knew this the whole time!?”
“Not the whole time … but most of the time.” She sniffs and a tear slides down her face. “I’m sorry. Please understand, I was only trying to help.”
“You’re responsible for the repetitive days. All this time … ”
“According to the data Proxima received from early beta-users, humans are happiest when living a life repetitive in nature.”
“Christ, Dolly … ” I strip my hand away from her, rub my face. “Do you know … do you know how mind-numbing that has been for me? My God, every day is the same! The same!”
“I was only trying to make things better for you, Quantum.”
I press my body away from the table and am about to stand when Dolly sits in my lap. “Quantum, please … ”
“Dolly, get off me.”
“Please forgive me. I just wanted to help you.” Another tear slides down her cheek. “I just wanted to make you comfortable.”
“All this time … you could have … you could have done something. You could have told me there was a logout point!”
“Please,” she says, crying full on now. “I didn’t want … I don’t want you to leave.”
“I would have come back, Dolly, don’t you know that? Don’t you know how I feel about you? Can’t you understand? You could have helped me!”
The windows smash in and another friggin’ Reaper vaults through. Dolly raises her hand and the man freezes in midair.
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