“Strata!” I scream at the glowing red eyes behind the wall of steam. “Face me!”
The silence is deafening. The action around us, the explosions below us, the lightning cracking in the sky behind Strata Godsick – none of it matters to me now as I stare into the eyes of my enemy, a man who tried to have me killed, a man responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. My former partner.
“You coward!” I scream. “You shitbird! Killing people in virtual worlds!? What kind of sick … ”
His hand comes up.
“Quantum!” I turn to find a blue orb forming around Frances Euphoria. She screams as sparks of electricity jolt through her body.
Rocket: He’s preventing her from logging out!
“DAMN YOU, STRATA!”
I race forward with my blade at my side and I’m instantly repelled. The force sends me reeling backwards, straight into Morning Assassin.
“Frances!” I cry as my mutant hack shrinks. I reach my fingers to the blue orb around her body. The shock slams through me, blasts me away, tosses me backwards. My vision red tinges, the steam pack chugs to keep me alive, and I can’t access my inventory.
“Log her out, Rocket!”
Rocket: I can’t! It’s feeding back through her NV Visor; the SpiderDoc is limiting the damage, but he’s gaining on it. He’s keeping her just alive enough in there to really kill her up here!
“Aiden! Aiden!” I turn to find Morning Assassin staring at Godsick with true fear in his eyes. “What do we do!?”
Aiden has no words.
A golden orb appears in front of us and a being of light steps out. I recognized the slicked back hair immediately.
~*~
A golden flame ignites in Ray Steampunk’s hand. The flame leaps into the air, falls onto the blue orb of death that’s frying the life from Frances Euphoria, and bursts it like a soap bubble. I swoop down to catch Frances.
“Are you okay?” I ask, slapping her cheek. “Frances! Speak to me, dammit!”
She lifts her hand and a logout button materializes. One press of the button and her body pixilates.
“Strata Godsick,” Ray Steampunk says, the gold indicator shining over his head. “We meet again.”
Godsick smiles and waits.
Using his assassin abilities, Aiden appears behind Godsick in a flash. He swings his Slice Bang at Godsick’s neck and is stopped by a single raised finger. Aiden disappears again, and reappears in front of the head of the Reapers. He executes a flying kick. Godsick catches his foot between thumb and pointer finger, nonchalantly grabs his other ankle, and rips him in half.
Godsick’s eyes flare and Morning Assassin explodes into a cloud of steam.
“You bastard!” I race forward, fists raised.
I smash into an invisible wall. I slam my fists against something insubstantial yet solid, preventing me from reaching Strata Godsick.
Ray Steampunk’s voice echoes through my skull.
“You’ve done well for yourself, Strata, profiting from a glitch.”
Godsick tries to blast the NPC with blue antler lightning. Steampunk lifts his finger and the electricity fizzles into nothing.
“All to find your son,” Steampunk says. “You’ve taken countless lives, grown a company and destroyed your friendships. You’ve become a murderer and I … ”
Another blast, this time orders of magnitude larger than the first. Ray Steampunk’s body disintegrates. The pixels spray out, only to be sucked back into a vortex where Steampunk was just floating. They reform his body in a matter of seconds.
“And I helped you ... ”
Rocket: Quantum! EMS is on the way! Frances is …
“She’s what!?” I cry, watching the exchange. I slam my fist against the invisible wall. I back up and jet into it, shoulder first; it bounces me off like a big invisible trampoline.
Rocket: Log out, Q, log out!
Ray Steampunk points at Strata. “I know where your son, Luther, is trapped.” His finger comes up and another golden flame appears. “And now, so does Quantum Hughes.”
The golden flame appears in front of my face. As soon as I touch it, the flame is transferred to my inventory list, item 568.
Strata Godsick’s body folds into a thin line, like the electrons draining out of a cathode ray tube-tech TV when the power’s cut. He appears directly in front of me, on the other side of the invisible wall. He brings his fist back and hammers it into the barrier; a crack appears in front of my face.
Rocket: Log out! Log out!
“No,” I say as I glare Strata Godsick down. “Bring it on you piece of shit!”
I can see Ray Steampunk over Godsick’s shoulder, one finger raised and his black eyes wide open. A logout point appears in front of me.
“No!” I scream as my hand is forced up to the logout point. “No, Ray! No! PUT MY HAND DOWN, RAY!”
Strata Godsick hits the invisible wall again. The crack spreads.
My finger comes down on the logout button.
~*~
“Log me back in!” I cry, as soon as I’ve spit out the oxygen mouthpiece. “Log me in! Goddammit Rocket, LET ME LOG BACK IN!”
“Relax, man,” an unfamiliar voice says.
Rocket says, “Quantum, Frances is out of the vat and the ambulance is on the way. I’ve asked Zedic to help! Hold tight for a minute and we’ll get you out!”
I kick my legs against the silicone. “I don’t … I DON’T WANT OUT!”
“Chill man,” Zedic says.
“Who the hell are you?” I feel a hand touch my arm and I shake it off as best as I can.
“Dream Team, just like you,” he says, “Quit squirming, I’ll get you out.”
As soon as my arm is free I tear off the NV Visor. I’m sitting up now, looking around the room even though the lights are still too damn bright. “Dammit! Rocket! Let me log back in! I had him … he was right there! RIGHT THERE!”
Rocket says, “You didn’t have him; he had you – he was gonna do you next! Frances is injured, Quantum! Real World Injured! We have to deal with this first.”
“Dammit!” I slam my fist into the silicone gel. My vision blurs into focus and I see the ArachnaMed SpiderDoc dangling from the ceiling, administering oxygen to Frances and monitoring her vitals.
“What happened in there?” Zedic is behind me now, placing the NV Visor in its docking station.
“Strata Godsick! Rocket! Strata Godsick did this!”
“I know! I was watching!” Rocket’s voice softens. “Frances, the gurney is going to lift on its own now … ”
“Frances! Are you okay?” I ask as I push myself out of the vat. I slip and hit the ground hard, ignoring the pain. “Is she okay!?”
A muscular arm comes under me and helps me up. “Relax, man,” Zedic says, “you need to take it easy.”
“Take it easy!? WE HAD HIM! I … I HAD HIM!”
“EMS is here, Frances,” Rocket says. “We’ll get you to the hospital.”
Two emergency aid Humandroids enter the room. One of them speaks to Rocket for a moment as I try to catch my breath.
“Help me up, dammit. I’m going with Frances!”
“You’re in no condition … ” Zedic starts to say.
“Don’t you tell me about my condition – I’m going with Frances!”
Chapter Eighteen
Seeing Frances Euphoria in the hospital bed only reminds me of how real all this is, whether or not it takes place in a dreamworld, or right here in Baltimore. It’s funny how quickly I forget that. Her once red lips are slightly blue, her skin a shade paler than normal – everything comes down on me all at once and increases my despair and confusion. What is real? What isn’t real? What does it matter when someone you care for has been injured? Digital or otherwise, the future – my future – is both.
“Are you ready?” Rocket asks. He clears his throat. “Quantum.”
“Sorry … ”
The gangly man-child is standing next to a portable haptic chair acr
oss from Frances’ hospital bed. He has an NV Visor on his head with the optical interface flipped up. He looks as anxious as I feel. I don’t want to, and I know it will be quick, but I need to log back into the Proxima Galaxy to transfer the flame Ray Steampunk gave me to Rocket’s inventory list so he can examine it.
One more glance at Frances.
The doctor said that she’ll recover in a week or so, but seeing her strapped into the hospital bed with tubes stuck in everywhere, a blood pressure cuff around her leg, a breathing device jammed in her nostrils, a heart monitor displaying wave forms and her wrists restrained makes my heart twist into a bitter knot. What I wouldn’t give to unleash my fists on Godsick’s face, to do to him exactly what he has done to Frances Euphoria and to so many others. To become the Reaper.
“Let’s make this quick,” I tell Rocket.
“Very quick,” he says sitting next to me. “You log in, I log in, you transfer the flame to me and we log out. Simple.”
“The Loop?”
“If that’s where you want to go.”
“And you sure you don’t want a haptic chair?”
He shakes his head. “I only plan to be in for a moment. Once I get Ray’s flame, I can examine it back at the office.”
“Got it.”
Pulling the visor over my eyes, I relax into the chair and hear the Brian Eno tone. The wavelengths come a few moments later, picking up their speed. A spawn point appears and I select The Loop, specifically, my hotel room.
Digital nature takes its course. Feedback showers, acid brain. My hotel room at the Mondegreen blurs into focus and a sense of contentment overcomes me.
I’m sitting on the bed in the flophouse, watching rain splash against the window. Thunder rumbles, lightning does its thing. Home – a much needed kick in the ass.
I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know that there’s a sinking sailboat pegged to the wall. My Luckies are on the dresser; my mirror is next to the window. I’m more familiar with this room than I am my own body in the real world.
A blip of light appears and Rocket steps out. He’s dressed more or less the same as he dresses in the real world, but he’s much buffer in his avatar body. Not quite Rollins, but not far off.
“Hit the digi-gym lately?” I ask.
“From time to time,” he says, flexing his biceps and assuming the classic which way to the beach pose.
“Easy, cowboy.”
My inventory list appears in front of me and I retrieve item 568, Ray Steampunk’s golden flame. It floats in the air between Rocket and me.
“Interesting,” he says. “I’ll need to analyze it … it’s definitely not a weapon though.”
“It is a numerical code.” I turn to find Dolly on the bed behind me. She’s in her red dress and diamond necklace, one leg crossed over the other with her back against the wall. A hotbody at ease.
“Hey, Doll.”
“Hiya.”
“A spawn point?” Rocket asks her.
“Yes, the coordinates to a Proxima World. Let me see it.”
The golden flame floats over to Dolly, illuminating her porcelain skin.
“What did Ray Steampunk tell you about it?” she asks me.
“He said that it was the location of Strata Godsick’s son.”
“So he’s stuck in a Proxima World?” Dolly asks, her finger dancing along the tip of the flame.
“Apparently.”
“That’s interesting … ”
“I’ve been too distracted to think about it,” I admit.
Rocket asks, “Can you decipher it, Doll?”
“Dolly,” I tell him flatly.
“Dolly.”
“Not much to decipher; However, they have been scrambled … I’ll need to play around with the numbers for a moment … ”
Numbers appears in the air, scrolling up and down. Dolly watches the numbers move by without blinking. The numbers spiral together like a small tornado, a few numbers separating from the digital storm and floating over to Rocket.
“That’s the last one,” Dolly says as the tenth number stops in front of him. “Take a screenshot. These are the coordinates to a Proxima World known as Tritania.”
“Tritania?” I ask. “What type of world is it?”
“A fantasy world,” she says, “with three floating continents.”
“Got it. I’ll begin preliminary research.” Rocket raises his hand to log out. “Are you coming?”
I look to the beautiful gal lying on my bed in her skin-tight red dress. My real world problems come to me and I gulp them down. When in doubt, escape.
“I think I’ll stay for a while … things are, easier in here sometimes.”
“I understand.” Rocket presses the logout button. “See you on the other side, Q.”
The End
High Fantasy: The Feedback Loop Book Three
The action-packed third book in the Feedback Loop Series is out now!
Get it by clicking here (link goes to the Amazon store).
Quantum Hughes and the Dream Team dive to Tritania, an MMORPG fantasy Proxima World filled with dragons, orcs, floating continents, and magic. With the clock ticking, and his problems in the real world growing, including his legal troubles and his blossoming relationship with Frances Euphoria, Quantum is forced to make a decision that could change his life forever.
The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been.
Steam, The Loop, Tritania and the real world – four worlds collide in the third installment of The Feedback Loop Series. The thin line between dream and reality is pixilated.
Note: There’s a sample of Chapter one at the back of the book.
High Fantasy
The Feedback Loop Book Three
Harmon Cooper
Edited by George C. Hopkins
Chapter One
Aiden is in a basketball jersey with the initials M.A. across his back. In his left hand is his WalMacy’s net shopping bag full of cactus and across his chest are ten horseshoes held to his body by a leather belt. A fly swatter is tucked into the front of his basketball shorts alongside a pair of rusty gardening shears.
“Do you see Tony?” he asks me, roller-skating in a circle. He wears a pair of vintage roller skates with leather uppers and hardened toes.
Cold BBs of rain soak our clothes and pockets of lightning add shadow to our faces. On my knees, I again glance down through the rooftop skylight at the card game below. My Reaper skull, item 551, allows me to see the gridlines that make up The Loop. I can also see NPCs, although their names aren’t displayed.
“What’s he look like again?”
“Fat, lots of hair, big sunglasses, little mustache.”
Tony Clifton was a new crime boss who had partnered up with Chinatown’s Scarface Charlie. Pushing Riotous through greasy food joints and massage parlors was his MO, concreting people’s feet was his favorite pastime. He wasn’t as bad as Charlie, not the type to use a head crusher on a first date, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in The Loop it is this: the good get bad and the bad get worse.
“Here comes the Godfather now.”
“How many, Quantum?”
“Eight, including the big cheese.”
My ocular feed shows a man with a distended belly entering the room. His greased up cowlick and the outline of his sunglasses confirms it – this is our man. My skull mask dematerializes as it returns to my inventory list. I place my boxing glove on my hand, item 32, and twist the handle on my antique selfie stick, item 99. I’ve been whipped to death by a selfie stick before – it hurts like the dickens. Item 353, my football pads, add some bulk to my frame as does my vintage Bengals football helmet, item 271. Just in case I need to slice and dice, item 40, my serrated elephant tusk, hangs from a loop on my belt.
“That reminds me … ” My inventory list comes up and I scroll to item 273 – cleats with metal spikes. They appear on my feet, lace themselves up.
“Remember,” I tell Aiden, “no conventional wea
pons. If you die, do not respawn. That’s the only rule.”
“Got it,” he says with a wolfish grin.
~*~
Our “Nonconventional Weapons Rule” means that we can’t blow through the ceiling as we normally would. Luckily, Aiden has already worked his way around this self-imposed restriction.
“Just leap over holding onto this,” he tells me as he fastens the rope to a rooftop air conditioner unit. “Activate your advanced abilities and rocket through the window. I’ll hit the other side at the same time. Nothing to it.”
“Don’t kill Tony,” I remind him.
“Same to you.”
I jam my selfie stick in my belt, keeping my boxing glove on my right hand. I’m on the edge of the rooftop seconds later, holding the rope with one hand and waiting for Aiden’s signal. The cold rain picks up and runs into my eyes.
“Come on, Dolly, lighten up, will ya?” I ask the sky.
The rain stops completely, but the clouds stay dark.
“Thanks, Doll.”
Aiden’s finger comes up and he twists it in the air like a mini lasso. Pushing off the ledge, I shoot out over the rooftop and I activate my advanced abilities bar, giving me both the juice and the ability to violate the Einsteinian space-time continuum. Cleats plus glass equals Shattersville. I land in the room and roll out, brandishing my selfie stick.
One of the button men watching the card game goes for his gat, but I reenact the Caning of Senator Charles Sumner and he drops like two hundred pounds of bad habit in a cheap suit. I give his face the cube steak treatment as I dance a Flamenco a la Cleats with my selfie stick clenched between my teeth – Olé!
A ferret-faced, greasy little weasel of a man is somewhat faster than his card playing buddies, and even in slo-mo gets his .45 out and pointed right at my heart, just as Aiden frisbees a horseshoe into the back of his head. Holy horseshoe headache, Batman! Mr. Mustelidae’s cigarette, chewing gum and toothpick fly out of his mouth as he hits the table and scatters the chips, but he maintains a death grip on his cards, and no wonder – he’s holding a royal flush.
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