The Feedback Loop (3-Book Box Set): (Scifi LitRPG Series)

by Harmon Cooper

  He sniffs it, waves his hand over it to more fully aerate it and waft the molecules closer to his olfactory receptors, takes a deep, appreciative breath, and grins. “Ideally, I should have just a drop of pure spring water to fully unlock the flavor, but … ” He sips, does all that fancy-schmancy wine-tasting rigmarole, closes his eyes, swallows, smiles. “Ah, amazing.” He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, as if he’s channeling the spirit of the Macallan himself. “The warmth, as if from a slow fire on a snowy November evening – that’s the stuff, Quantum, that’s the stuff.”

  I glance up at the dirtiest Dave I’ve ever met. “Alrighty Davey Boy, it’s time to unhook you.”

  The bottle returns to my list and I scroll to item 306, a pound of the purest Riotous this side of Proxima White Wing World.

  Dirty Dave’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull once he sees. “You have … a pound!?”

  “Do you have a spoon?” I ask Aiden. “The smallest spoon I have in my list is a ladle that I got from the Chef back in the early days.”

  “I have a spork … ”

  “That will do.”

  I cautiously open the package of Riotous and Aiden sporks out a small amount.

  “C-C-Careful!” Dirty Dave says, his eyes narrowing on a few specs of Riotous that Aiden has dropped to the floor.

  “Cool your jets, Dave,” I say as Aiden tops off the lump. “There’s plenty.”

  Aiden stands on the folding chair and places the spork under Dirty Dave’s snout. “That’s the stuff! Sweet Jesus that’s the stuff!” he shouts, after taking a snort that would make Hologram Keith Richard proud. “Please just … just a little more … PLEASE!”

  “Take a deep breath… ” Aiden places his hands under Dave’s arms. “Okay Dave, this may sting a bit. Count with me – on three. One … Two … FIVE!” He yanks Dave off the meat hook in the way that a person would yank somebody off a meat hook – there’s no real simile to cover that situation, sorry folks.

  Dirty Dave screams and pees himself before he even hits the ground. He curls his knees to his chest and whines, “What happened to three?” as he notices the few crumbs of Riotous on the ground. Ignoring the blood, he crawls over to the crumbs and licks them off the floor.

  “He’ll be fine,” I tell Aiden. “At least for now.”

  Chapter Eight

  I look up at the small room on the third floor above a sushi restaurant. The curtains are still drawn, red and enticing. The streets are clear now; Scotty is walking around checking the dead for new weapons. “Ah, that’s bowfin’,” he comments as he turns a body over with an Arseface mug. “Not a bad suit jacket though.”

  Aiden says, “Dolly’s waiting for you.”

  “I figured as much. Where’s the entrance, anyway?”

  “On the side. The fire escape has been converted into a staircase. The sushi restaurant took out the main entrance when they did some renovations a few years back.”

  I start to shake my head at this comment but I stop – let Dolly run her world the way she sees fit.

  “Well, then I’d better get going.”

  Aiden clears his throat.

  “What is it, old pal?”

  “When will I see you again?”

  “You about to turn on the waterworks or something?” I ask with a grin. “Tomorrow, Aiden, you’ll see me tomorrow and it won’t be here in The Loop.”

  “Where?” he asks.

  “Tritania, a fantasy world.”

  “Any rules?”

  “Well, I didn’t get that far. I’m assuming no guns, but your Slice Bang should be fine, at least the sharp end.”

  “Armor?”

  I nod. “But you’d better get to Dirty Dave before he goes on another bender. We’ll need gear for you, Dolly, the Brits. Since I don’t know what we’re going up against, get some gear for Jim, Chef and Saucier too. Also, invite Dirty Dave, but only if he cleans up his act while he’s in Tritania. That should give us a big enough group to cause some serious trouble if necessary.”

  My inventory list appears and I select my pound of Walter White Riotous, item 306. This is the good stuff, the I-usually-don’t-share-stuff, but sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. “You got a cup in your list?” I ask Aiden.

  “Sure do.”

  “Good, take a scoop to Dave as a peace offering and down payment. Keep your eye on him and get some weapons. As soon as I spawn in Tritania, I’ll call you and Dolly. The rest can wait until later.”

  ~*~

  Up the fire escape I go, taking two steps at a time. The fact that her front door doubles as her window gives me a chance to check myself out. My hair is fine, blonde with a small portion tucked behind my left ear, but my duds could use some work.

  A black blazer appears on my body. I adjust the color to midnight blue and add suede elbow patches. A collared shirt forms across my chest and the top two buttons open. The shirt tucks itself into a pair of jeans – designer, but not obnoxious like Rocket and Zedic’s – and a brown belt loops its way around my waist. I go with brown oxfords and a pair of socks that match my suit’s handkerchief. One look at my reflection and I add the finishing touch – a pair of stylish Persol glasses with light blue lenses and an integrated targeting reticle, item 36.

  One knock later and the door creaks open.

  “Who is it?” Dolly asks, peeking through the chain.

  “Pizza delivery,” I say. I access my inventory list behind my back and select my Chicago-style pizza, item 222. The pizza came to my list after a shootout near the Pier at a pizza parlor called Mario’s. I added it just before dying of natural causes – pizza slicer to the back of the head.

  “You brought pizza?” she asks as she unlocks the chain.

  “Fresh out the oven,” I say, “pepperoni too.”

  “What’s with your glasses?”

  “They make me look smart, right?”

  “No, they don’t.” She blinks once and they disappear off my face.

  “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  The door swings open and the essence of Dolly pulls me in. She’s in red pajamas, silk, and her hair is in a ponytail.

  “How did you find the place?” she asks. My eyes skip from her face to a picture hanging over her bed.

  “You have a Picasso?” I ask.

  “A replica,” she says with a hint of irony. “Figure at the Seaside.”

  “It’s nice,” I say as I set the pizza box on her bed. “You got some plates?”

  Her place is a studio apartment with a kitchen tucked into the left hand side of the room. A small television rests on top of a small dresser on the other side of the space, a line of static rippling across the screen.

  Plates appear on the bed. “How many slices?” I ask as I open the pizza box. Ungodly amounts of cheese, pepperoni, a layer of grease and golden brown crust keep everything in order.

  “Just one,” she says. Her hand falls on my leg. “You’ve been so busy lately. ”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Out with Aiden, fighting mobsters in Chinatown.”

  I hand her a slice and take a bite of my own just for shiggles. “It ain’t what it seems like, Doll. Dirty Dave was kidnapped and he’s the best weapons dealer around so we had to do something about it. You know, you really should open a rehab clinic in The Loop. It’d do some of these fiends right.”

  “You think?”

  “Why not? It would freshen up the place a bit, mop up the streets too. There’s more varmints here than there is sunlight.”

  She takes a bite of her pizza and sits back, savoring it. “Would you like more sunlight?”

  “The Loop is The Loop because it’s The Loop. Hell, more sunlight won’t make the place any better.”

  “You act like you don’t like it here … ”

  “Me? I love it here, Doll. Don’t get me wrong – the filth and debauchery has become an integral part of my soul. All I’m saying is that a little more sunlight and a rehab clinic could ser
ve this place well.”

  “I try not to get involved,” she says as she takes another bite. “And I like the rain.”

  “I can tell.”

  “The rain keeps the pollution down, cleans the streets too. Until I went to Steam, I’d never seen another Proxima World. Seeing Steam has … ”

  “Has what?” I say, gulping down my slice.

  “Well, it has inspired me to try some different things here. This isn’t an active world, so I can do whatever I’d like. Maybe I’ll carve out a little place in the Badlands and add a fence and a cottage to the property. A sparkling lake nearby with some swans would also be nice.”

  “Say, that ain’t a bad idea! A little vacation home, eh?”

  “That’s right,” she says. “Somewhere better than this studio apartment.”

  “You know, Doll, you really crack me up.”

  “Why’s that?” She drops her head on my shoulder.

  “You’re the NVA Seed and you live in this little shack-sized apartment. You could be in a hoity-toity airship like Ray Steampunk but you’re humble, you’re … simple. That’s what I like about you. Sure, you can dress to the nines and that thing you do with your back, well that’s cool too. Reminds me of Witchblade.”

  “What’s that?”

  “An old comic. Listen, what I’m trying to say is that you … ” I sigh. Once again, words have tumbled out of my mouth before I could muster a fully formed thought. “What I’m trying to say is, you totally should build a little cabin in The Badlands next to a lake. You deserve it.”

  Dolly’s nose twitches. Portions of the room pull apart forming little squares and rectangles. Shadows stretch and blocky forms press together like accordions. The top portion of my viewing pane chandeliers, drips past my face and fires glints of light to the far corners of the now Picassoed room.

  Dolly embraces me as we float amidst a scattering of digital debris that swirls like a hurricane around us.

  ~*~

  Blinded by the light.

  Here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right. The world around me spins; the detritus clanks as it settles. A wooden floor forms beneath my feet and a cabin materializes all around me. The drapes part and as the sun dims; I see a mountain and a deep blue lake sloshing against a shoreline.

  “Well?” Dolly asks.

  I turn to find her on her bed, one leg crossed over the other. The Picasso piece is above her bed, draped in a golden cloth.

  “Is it too much?”

  “No, Doll, it’s great! Great! We should have done this before … ” I say as I approach her. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I should pull you into my arms or run outside and show you my most epic swan dive.”

  “How about a little of both?”

  She stands and a bathing suit takes shape on her body. It’s a red two piece, the bottom half covered by a little skirt.

  “Not bad … ”

  Red swim trunks appear on my body and my shirt evaporates. The lace holding the trunks up pulls tight, ties itself into a little white knot.

  Dolly steps in front of me with her hand behind her back. I take it and follow her out the front door of the cabin, down to the shore of the lake. Looking over my shoulder, I catch a considerable fence that reminds me of the walls surrounding Ray’s airship castle.

  “I don’t want to be bothered while I’m here.”

  Her body sways as she reaches the shoreline. The frothy tips of the wavelets meet my feet, bubbling up to my ankles. Dolly takes me further into the water, her porcelain skin at odds with the translucent green lake. A gray cloud forms in the sky and she waves it away.

  “Thanks, Doll,” I say.

  We’re waist-deep now, our bodies pressed together.

  “This is wonderful,” she says between kisses.

  “It really is.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see a large beach towel thread itself together on the shore. A picnic basket appears next to the beach towel, a bottle of wine sticking out of the basket. Two wine glasses drop out of the air and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that today is going to be a day to remember.

  Dolly drops into the water and comes back up, water dripping down her face. “Let’s swim for a minute,” she says.

  “And then?”

  “And then.”

  The sun brightens, reflects across her dark eyes.

  Chapter Nine

  Feedback spring forward neuronal bungee. Feedback awake, feedback end signal. The Brian Eno tone sounds and I feel the urge to piss.

  “Dolly?” I whisper to the hand holding mine. How is this possible? I could have sworn I just logged out … after hours by the lake with Dolly, I knew it was time to go back to the real world.

  Where … ?

  The NV Visor powers down, letting me know it can be safely removed. I push it to my forehead with one hand. The hospital room blurs into focus – the holoscreen, the charts tucked into a plastic wall hanger near the door, the machines responsible for God knows what. Frances. My hand tightens and I glance left to see Frances Euphoria, her hand dangling off the bed, squeezed around mine.

  I drop her hand and it hits the side of the bed. My sweaty palm tells me we’ve been holding hands for quite a while.

  She blinks her eyes open, turns her head to me. “You’re awake.”

  “Were you sleeping?” I ask, hoping she didn’t just hear me whisper Dolly’s name.

  “In and out, ” she yawns. “The hospital is so boring.”

  I close my eyes for a second and notice a message from Rocket. Correction – ten messages from Rocket.

  Rocket: Q, I’m coming to the hotel at seven to get you.

  I blink again and notice the time in the bottom right hand corner of my eyelids. It’s 6:45, which means that I’ve been in The Loop for nearly seven hours.

  “Was it really that long?”

  “Your dive?” Frances asks.

  “Yeah, it felt like like a drop in the hat.”

  “Proxima time can do that to you.”

  “Mind if I use the little boy’s room?”

  I find my cane and stand. My legs hurt and my back feels like someone played it like a xylophone.

  “Sure, and it’s a little girl’s room thank-you-very-much,” she says, laughing.

  “You still loosey goosey?”

  “A tad. But the doctor came by and said I’d be out tomorrow. Welcome back, me!” she says, pumping her hand in a sloppy way.

  I squint down at my cane, item numero uno in my real world list. “I still haven’t showed you the blade,” I tell her as I scoot over to the other side of the room.

  “After you take care of business.” she says.

  “Fair enough.”

  As soon as I see the toilet, number two sends me a message and I realize that I’ll be in the bathroom a moment longer than I had expected. I turn the fan on to drown out the sound and enthrone myself as all kings should. As I handle my royal affairs, another message appears on my iNet screen: Ways to Determine the Status of Your Diet Based on Your Stool (Warning: Graphic Images Inside).

  “Seriously?” I ask aloud. I dig my finger into my knee and use it to click the reply button.

  Me: Quit sending me crap about my diet, dammit. I’d like to opt out and I’d also like to note that what you’re doing is considered spam, HIGHLY INVASIVE spam, which is illegal.

  A reply appears.

  FDA Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes, we’ve received your message and it has been flagged for a response. My name is Eight-Eight-Five, but you can call me by my handle, Evan. I’m here to answer any questions you may have in regards to your health. As you can see in the attached chart, we’ve been monitoring your diet since you awoke from your digital coma. The caloric intake is the red line; the cholesterol level is the blue line. The green line represents what you should be aiming for daily. It’s a combination of your recommended caloric intake and your recommended cholesterol level.

  Me: Stop. Sending. Me. Shit.

  FDA
Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes, your tone indicates that you are less than happy with the service the FDA provides for all American citizens through a clause in the Watch Our Own People Act of 2036. The health of American citizens is of the utmost importance to the FCG, as is the comfort level of each and every tax-paying American. Remember, a healthy citizen is a happy citizen. I’ve added you into my ‘to be mentored’ list, and I’ll be able to answer questions anytime, Monday through Saturday.

  Me: No Sunday?

  FDA Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes. Sunday is a mandatory reflection day for the FDA’s Humandroid staff as part of the federally mandated Religion for Humandroid Workers Program (RHW Program) instigated in 2056 for federal government sentient property.

  Me: You’re kidding …

  FDA Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes. The RHW Program, introduced by Senator Randy Koch, is a very serious initiative on the FCG’s part. It requires the Humandroid staff to attend no less than two church ceremonies from the Approved Religions List on Sunday. The intermediary hours are used for studying various texts, as long as our study time doesn’t involve any false interpretations of said religious texts or any cross-examination through linguistic word origins. We are, however, able to cross examine Non-Approved Religions such as Islam, Scientology, Mormonism, Hinduism, Transcendentalism, Buddhism, Asian shamanic traditions, Native American religions, and Satanism.

  Me: So you’re a Humandroid Christian?

  FDA Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes. Yes, I am. The other approved religious option is Judaism.

  Me: I’ll be frank with you, bud – I’m taking a crap right now, but what you just said is probably the biggest load of shit I’ve heard all day. And it has been a long day. Droids aren’t going to heaven. I hate to be the one to break it to you.

  FDA Monitor 1351885: Hi, Mr. Hughes. I’m sorry to hear that you feel that way. Religious scholars are undecided in regards to the afterlife of Homo Machina. FCG funded studies are underway, some sponsored by the American Christian Lobbyist Association in partnership with Not in My America. A definitive answer will come sooner or later. Until that time, it is better to be safe than sorry, as some humans say. Anyhow, if you have any questions regarding your diet, please feel free to contact me. I’ll be sending you daily reports on your diet changes as well as articles detailing ways to improve your health.