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

by Harmon Cooper

  “Roger that.”

  “I do have some good news, however.”

  “What’s that?”

  He smiles, clasps his hands together. “Until the special agents can get more information on what happened in the digital coma ward, you’ll no longer have to meet with them.”

  “Not even today?”

  “Nope,” he says, “I’ll be meeting with them for you while you dive.”

  Rocket knocks on the door. “Special Agents O’Brian and Reynolds are here.”

  “Don’t say anything to them as you walk out,” Solon says.

  “Can I give them a grin and a curtsy?”

  “As long as it isn’t verbal, yes.”

  “One more thing,” I say as I stand.

  “What’s that?”

  “Be sure and check their IDs very thoroughly. One can never be too safe in today’s troubled world.”

  Solon smiles. “I always do.”

  ~*~

  Well there’s the shitbag himself. I see Special Agent O’Brian giving Rocket a hard time, commenting on his clothing and saying something about his shirt.

  “Mr. Hughes!” Agent O’Brian says as soon as he sees me.

  “Rocket, please inform the agents that they can meet with my lawyer in the conference room.”

  Agent O’Brian guffaws.

  “Ummm … Agents, sirs, Quantum’s lawyer is in the conference room.”

  “We’re here to speak to you!” O’Brian says, stepping forward. Agent Reynolds grabs the fat bastard by his elbow. His eyes blink shut as he sends the alpha douche a quick iNet message. O’Brian clears his throat and turns to the conference room.

  “You sure know how to wind them up.” Zedic says under his breath. He’s just stepped out of the changing room in his diving suit, a black, skin tight shirt and bicycle shorts a shade darker than his skin tone.

  “What can I say?” I ask as soon as the agents are gone. “I might not be good at much, but I am very good at pissing people off.”

  Zedic laughs. “Man, you crazy.”

  “I’m just me.” I turn to Rocket. “What’s on the agenda today, anyway? We’re diving to Tritania, right?”

  “Correct, but first, you’ll meet with the CWO at the training grounds.”

  “Training grounds?”

  “We’ll dive there first,” Zedic explains, “work with him for a bit and then head to Tritania.”

  “Sweet, I’ll suit up. Say, what’s the CWO’s name anyhow?”

  “Doc,” Rocket says. “That’s what he wants us to call him, anyway.”

  ~*~

  With the NV Visor over my eyes, the real world no longer matters. In a Proxima Dreamworld I am someone else, something else, an entity with true power and indescribable freedom. Feedback a friend, the sound of remembrance, the signal and the noise. A comfort zone.

  “First the training grounds,” Rocket says, “then Tritania.”

  “Will there be a bathroom break?” I ask.

  “Do you need to?”

  “I might.”

  “You want a catheter and a poo-tube?”

  “Gawd, no!”

  The sine waves dance like vertical slithers of DNA. I focus on them as long as I can, noting their color and form. Violet, red, blue, green – the rainbow of existence is faster than the speed of light.

  ~*~

  “Looks like I’m wearing the same thing as you,” I say to Zedic, who’s in a one piece uniform with a popped collar. We’re in a room the size of an airplane hangar. It’s well-lit, and there’s something very Rubik’s cube-y about the wall panels.

  “Training uniforms.”

  “Are we in a particular Proxima World?”

  “No, but we’re in the Proxima Galaxy. Everything that exists within Proxima exists within the galaxy. This is a special training building, built by the monitor before Rocket.”

  Rocket: His name was Chance. Good guy.

  “I see … ” I look up at the ceiling, imagining what must be outside of the hanger.

  “Nothing’s up there,” Zedic says. “I’ve tried to blow a hole in the wall before – not going to happen.”

  “That’s because the two of you don’t know how to properly destroy a Proxima World.”

  We swivel to find a man of considerable height and bulk eyeballing us. He’s sporting the same style black uniform we are, but his has the sleeves cut away to reveal a Gadsen Flag tattoo on one biceps and Confederate Battle Flag draped grinning skull above crossed AK-370s on the other. His Disgruntled Veteran Medicated For Your Safety ball cap, goatee and oversize wraparound Oakleys complete his ensemble.

  “Doc,” Zedic says, “this is Quantum Hughes.”

  He looks down at us like he has a bad taste in his mouth. “I know who Quantum Hughes is – he’s the one that hired me!”

  “He is?”

  “I am?”

  “Yep, you and Strata chose me out of a candidate list of at least a hundred.”

  “And you raise geese?”

  Doc nods. “I sure do, been raising them ever since I retired. In fact,” he snaps his fingers and a buff-colored goose appears, “I usually travel with my prize winners.”

  “Prize winners?”

  “This isn’t just any goose,” he says, smiling down at the bird. “This is the goose that lays the golden eggs! The goat that gives cold beer is still in development.”

  The big bird waddles in front of Doc. With each step it takes, reality wavers around it until it no longer resembles an endothermic vertebrate at all. The feathers flatten into the hilt of a sword and the neck elongates into the point of a blade. It clinks onto the ground once it can no longer support itself.

  “A mutant hack?” Zedic asks.

  “Not just any mutant hack,” says Doc. “I’m not the Dream Team’s CWO for nothing. This, my friends, is a special hack, one designed to give Reapers a taste of their own medicine.”

  “It kills them?” I ask.

  Doc shakes his head. “Unfortunately, Her Royal Highness Frances Euphoria told me I couldn’t create a weapon that actually killed the little scrotum-toters. I tried to argue with her about that, but hey, she was the boss lady while you were gone and besides, her restriction forced me to get creative.”

  “Go on … ” I say, liking the guy already. Hell, I hired him, I should like him!

  The mutant hack spreads up Zedic’s arm, forming a single barreled blaster with a bayonet.

  “Not bad,” Zedic says as he tests the weapon’s weight.

  “Not bad? That’s all you can say about it!?” Doc snorts. “That thing took me weeks to design! Look at the contours along blade and the Alien-style ribcage over the stock. Do you realize how many hours I spent on GoogleFace making sure the hack looks as good as it performs!?”

  “Sorry, Doc,” Zedic says. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “What’s it do?” I ask.

  “This does exactly what Big Euphoria wanted, and in a very clever way, I might add! Blast a Reaper with it and it forces them to logout.”

  “Just one blast?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Naturally, once they logout, they’ll try to log back in. Unfortunately for them, they’ll be presented with this image once they try to log back in.” Doc casts his hand at the wall and an image of a Reaper bent over Granny Weatherwax’s lap appears. She vigorously applies a cast iron skillet to the Reaper’s tookus and the junior Mad Max starts bawling like a baby.

  “This is great!”

  “It gets better. While the little pansy is getting the spanking they deserve, my system back in Gun Barrel City backtracks them to their mom’s basement, or wherever they’re diving from. The spankage ceases once we’ve real world located them.”

  Zedic twists his hack, examines it again. “We’ll be able to locate Reapers around the world. That’s awesome!”

  “Not finished yet … ”

  Another goose appears next to Doc. This one is dark gray with an orange bill.

  “Once th
e Reaper logs back in, they won’t be able to fire their weapons without incurring a penalty on their life bar. Every shot fired takes a tenth.”

  “Why not take it all?” I ask.

  “To make this hack, I had to work with a few CWOs I know who now work at the Proxima offices in Palo Alto. This was the biggest amount they’d let me sap from the Reapers. While everyone at Proxima knows Revenue Corporation and the Reapers are up to no damn good, they have to be careful not to publically state their beliefs or provide any in-game disadvantages. RevCo has more lawyers than the Scientologists and they have sued countless news organizations, celebutards and bloggers for libel. This is why the Dream Team’s mission statement doesn’t mention anything about Reapers. To state it bluntly – the RevCo has everyone by the huevos.”

  The gray goose approaches me and does its ‘change from a bird into a weapon thing’. Its neck and bill change color; its body crumples as it morphs into the hilt of a sword.

  “So,” Doc says, “now you both have two Reaper Hacks. Yeah, let’s call them that. I’ll give a few extra to Rocket as well.”

  Rocket: Hells yeah! Thanks, Doc!

  “No problem, kid.”

  I proudly add the Reaper Hack to my inventory list, item 571.

  Doc cracks his knuckles. “Listen fellas,” he says down to us, “I have to feed and water the flock and shovel the goose poop. Some local newsies are coming today to record some vid of my prize winning goose, Squadron Leader Bigglesworth – he took Grand Champion of the Show! We should probably have a training day tomorrow or the following day. While these new hacks may put you at an advantage with good ol’ Skull and Bones, you can never train enough.” He turns.

  “One thing before you go, Doc,” I call up to him.

  “What’s that?”

  “Will you take a look at my other mutant hack? It has been … acting strange lately, doing things that I didn’t tell it to do.”

  “Just go with it,” he says over his shoulder, “and I’ll explain more later. My Domestic Supervisor is messaging me with increasing frequency, so I gots to go, ‘cause you know what they say – if momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

  Chapter Eleven

  After a quick bathroom break, I’m back in the dive vat ready to see what Tritania has to offer. Not gonna lie – I’m excited to visit a new Proxima World. Nothing like a little escapism to pass the day.

  “Where are we spawning?” I hear Zedic ask Rocket.

  “Krikaya, a city not far from the capital city of Hyperborea, called Aramis.”

  “I’m already confused,” I say as I relax onto the unit that supports my weight.

  “Remember, Tritania has three floating continents in order from the bottom – Hyperborea, Polynya and Ultima Thule. Think H-P-U if it helps. You’ll need a dragon to travel between continents as well as EXP. From what we can tell, Strata’s son is on Ultima Thule, the uppermost continent and also the hardest to get to.”

  “EXP?”

  Rocket says, “Experience points. This is why I’m having you spawn in Krikaya, the fields around the city are a great way to gain some EXP through combat. You’ll get a feel for the combat style and you can check out Krikaya as well. P.S. Krikaya is an Inuit word that means ‘snow melted by breath’. Cool stuff. The developers of the world went with an arctic theme in naming places.”

  “So the continents are cold?” Zedic asks.

  Rocket busies himself reattaching leads to my NV Visor. “Only the northern continent, Ultima Thule, but I doubt you’ll get there this week.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Also, I almost forgot!”

  “What’s that?” I ask as the sine waves appear on my NV Visor.

  “Ray Steampunk has one more gift for you.”

  ~*~

  The sun sits at its apex in the sky, its rays bright and warm. I stand in a vast field, separating a stand of trees from a village on the horizon. The landscape rises and drops like frozen waves. The ground is covered in patches of yellow grass and peppered with stones. A greeting screen appears in front of me:

  Welcome to Tritania, an MMORPG with a turn-based battling system. Our records indicate that this is your first visit. Please take a moment to remember some of the rules of this world:

  1) Most outside firearms are not allowed in Tritania. Your life bar will be docked if you equip an unapproved outside firearm.

  2) Rupees are the currency of Tritania. Similar to BitCoins, Tritanian Rupees have real world value and can be traded and spent in other Proxima Worlds.

  3) Mutant Hacks are allowed, as long as they aren’t used as gun-like weapons.

  4) Life bars can be refilled through potions, magic, logging out for two hours, or by sleeping at an inn.

  5) You can select your class at the church in any village. To change classes you must pay a fee or make a new account.

  6) The fighting system in Tritania is turn-based. To brush up on turn-based fighting, see the training module on the main menu.

  7) Groups of four or more must form a guild. Forming a guild is optional for groups of three or less.

  I swipe the rules away. They appear again, asking if I’m sure I understand them. I press the button stating that I understand and the button pixilates.

  Rocket: Touch the blue orb I’m about to send you.

  I turn left to find Zedic wearing leather armor. One glance down tells me I’m wearing the same duds. Not much to look at and to my estimate, not very strong. The boiled leather clamshell armor is better than bare skin, but not by a whole lot; the rest of the armor is really just leather pants and a leather shirt.

  Rocket: Beginner gear. You’ll be able to get new armor in town.

  A blue ball fizzles in front of me. I press an outstretched finger into the ball and it shatters into a million pixels. A trumpet sounds.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask as the pixels form a weapon.

  Zedic says, “Don’t forget that Tritania is an MMORPG. There will be lots of trumpeting.”

  A comically huge broadsword drops into the earth in front of me, its hilt facing upwards. The blade’s as wide as an ironing board. It’s crafted from blackened metal, and there are two holes cut into the blade just below the hilt.

  “Christ almighty,” I say as I pull the colossal sword out of the ground.

  It appears in my inventory list, item 572, with the nameバスターソード.

  “It’s Japanese?” I ask.

  A blue orb appears in front of Zedic but I ignore it.

  Rocket: It’s a Buster Sword. Spelled in katakana it reads basutasodo. Buster Sword. From Final Fantasy VII.

  “From what?”

  Rocket: You aren’t big into RPGs, are you?

  The Buster Sword now in my hand, I twist my wrist, swipe at the air in front of me. “Rocket Propelled Grenades?”

  Rocket: Role-Playing Games. Usually Fantasy, but not always. Tritania is an MMORPG. Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games.

  “Now that’s just bad English.”

  Zedic says, “This is awesome!”

  I turn to find Zedic admiring a bow shaped like a Stealth Bomber. Metal brackets spread apart at the sight window, just above the grip. The arrow is tipped in blue, shaped more like a harpoon with fancy feather fletching.

  Rocket: The Hero’s Bow from The Legend of Zelda series. This one is from the Tower of the Gods. It shoots fire and ice arrows; unlimited fire and ice arrows.

  “Looks like we’ll need to take a trip to Steam to pay tithe to Ray,” I say after another practice swing or two.

  Zedic says, “Not a bad idea, but for now, we have company.”

  Four creatures each about the size of a miniature pony approach us. Their foreheads sport a pair of horns mounted high and low; a pair of formidable tusks distend their mouths. They resemble a cross between a feral hog and an especially spiky rhinoceros with clawed feet.

  Rocket: Tronkyins.

  “Lemme guess, Tronkyins aren’
t our friends.”

  Rocket: These are small ones. They get bigger.

  “Well Zedic? Shall we?”

  Without waiting for an answer, I bolt forward, taking my best Babe Ruth swing at the first Tronkyin. As soon as it connects the creatures life bar appears, drops fifty percent.

  “Easy!” I say, pulling back for another swing. Suddenly, I’m frozen solid, my face able to move but my body completely immobile. “What the hell is happening!?”

  Rocket: Tritania uses a turn-based battling system. I thought I told you!

  “Dammit Rocket!” I shout as a Tronkyin rams its horns into my stomach. No blood, but my life bar takes a good twenty percent dip.

  ~*~

  Rocket: You have to wait your turn to fight, so make each attack count, Q!

  Zedic pulls his arm back and fires a succession of arrows at the four Tronkyins. A fire arrow connects with each of the miniature odd-clawed ungulates, engulfing their bodies in flames. This stuns two of the horny bastards, evident in the question marks swirling around their heads. The final Tronkyin attacks Zedic and it’s my turn again.

  “Is there a way to hit all of them?” I ask aloud.

  Rocket: Your advanced abilities bar serves as your special attack meter.

  “Got it.”

  I run forward with my Buster Sword over my shoulder. My AA bar responds, charging my swing. One Louisville Slugger later and I’ve killed all but one of the Tronkyin. The dead amalgamations hit the earth hard and fade out, leaving some coins in their wake. Zedic finishes off the last Tronkyin and a trumpet sounds a fanfare. Numbers appear in the air as each Tronkyin disappears. The EXP numbers twist into the air and my life bar glows.