Virtual Prophet
Terry Schott
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright ©2013 by Terry Schott
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
I dedicate this book to my two amazing children; Terry Christopher Schott, and Sydney Schott.
Sydney has always been the 'namer' for these stories. Many of the wonderful characters we have all come to love and look forward to spending time with were named by my sweet daughter. Thanks so much Sydney for your creative input. Without you there would be no Danielle, Trew, Tygon, or many other great characters in the books!
Terry Christopher was sitting with me one day and he told me about a dream he had. In the dream, he met a sloth who taught him how to deal with evil black rats that sprang from the ground and attacked him. In the same dream he met an owl and was transformed into one himself so that he could fly. During that flight he also encountered an old man dressed in black garbage bags, black army boots, and wearing red pop bottle cap gloves. Thanks for sharing that dream and allowing me to put him into the story. I hope to meet that old man someday as well.
Huge thank you to my first reader Karen. Every day reading the chapters and offering support and great advice and encouragement. Huge help and support that I needed daily to keep going! Thanks again =)
Thank you Carl for loving this series. From chapter one your excitement for the story was overwhelmingly. Thank you also for your comments and ideas, along the way. This ending wouldn’t have been written if not for a great discussion with you!
Thank you to everyone who follows me on the website, blog, Facebook, and Twitter. Thanks to everyone who buys the books on Amazon, and shares them with your friends and family. Thank you to those who blog about my books and suggest them to your circles of influence. So many names here that I’m terrified of missing one and offending...and so instead I say thank you everyone!
I love my fans, and I hope you all enjoy the ending of this story.
Already a new story is creeping out of my skull. I look forward to sharing it with you.
Terry
www.terryschott.com.
CHAPTER ONE
49 hours before ‘The Day of Darkness’
Thirteen.
I remember my name, but I’m not ready to use it yet. Perhaps I’ll never use it. The poor wretch who answered to that name is no longer here, or maybe it’s more accurate to say that he’s no longer here alone.
I lean back and smile, enjoying the feel of sunshine on my face. I listen to the birds call out as they ride on the air currents above and the breeze blows softly off the water.
It’s all so perfect.
People often take the simplest pleasures in life for granted. A person who has their health, freedom, and the ability to do whatever they want usually doesn’t understand how wealthy they really are.
I started fading out when I was twelve. At first it was brief blackouts while playing with friends; falling down for no reason, stuff like that. Then the episodes became more frequent and lasted longer. I would go blank for a few minutes while sitting in the food court at the mall, or appear lost in thought during class with my pen frozen in place over my notebook.
A year passed before my parents realized I was having problems and took me to the doctors. After months of testing, experts sat across from my parents and collectively shrugged their shoulders. None of them had a single clue what my problem was, but they wished us good luck.
My parents should have put me into some kind of home or facility — someplace that could take care of me as my grip on reality slowly disappeared — but they didn’t. They denied what was happening and moved away.
I remember briefly surfacing one day in an alley, wearing filthy clothes and surrounded by garbage. I’m not sure why, but that day I was self-aware for more than twelve hours. I had time to get cleaned up a bit, to eat, and attempt to call them. Their number had been disconnected, and directory assistance confirmed that there was no longer a listing for them at our home address.
I wasn’t angry.
Over three years had passed since my last lucid day. It must have been horrible for them to deal with.
I don’t remember much after that. It’s easiest to pretend there is nothing worth remembering.
Then I woke up in a cage, standing in front of a man who could bring me out of what he called ‘the Haze.’ I’m not sure how long I was there; it doesn’t really matter.
Eleven days ago. That’s what matters most to me.
The man brought me out of my haze and told me it was permanent. He told me I could stay out here in the real world, along with my other half. My other half is apparently a genius level consciousness; an expert in quantum mechanics. During the past few days I’ve been able to piece together the understanding that the two halves were never able to be present as a single, integrated consciousness, although I’m not exactly certain why.
Eleven days ago, the man fixed that. He made me whole again for the first time in my adult life.
I’ve seen my reflection. I know living on the streets ages a person, but my best guess is that I’m in my late twenties, maybe early thirties.
I lost a lot of time, but my world looks very promising now.
When the man gave us our freedom, I knew immediately where to go. I made my way to the biggest city in Ontario, Canada; a large city surrounded by rich countryside, not too far out in the country. There are decent seasons for growing food and crops, and the population is large, but not huge compared to some other parts of the world.
Tomorrow I have an interview with one of the best physics labs in the country. I’m brilliant in the field of quantum mechanics; I’m certain they will hire me.
I don’t sit and worry about anything that will happen tomorrow, though.
Today I sit on the shore of a lake, dip my feet in the water, and enjoy being a part of this amazing world.
Things are finally going my way.
CHAPTER TWO
24 hours before ‘the Day of Darkness’
“We are very pleased to offer you a position at UniCaltrec Theoretical Physics Laboratory.”
I smile and shake hands with my interviewer. “I’m so pleased,” I say. “When can I start?”
“How does Monday sound?”
“It sounds great,” I say. “I have some exciting theories that I think you’ll be interested in, and the mathematical proofs I’ve compiled are very convincing.”
She returns my portfolio and nods her head. “If they are half as elegant as what’s contained in these papers, then I have no doubt you’re going to show us some incredible new ways to look at the world from a quantum perspective.”
I nod confidently. The papers I submitted to them as part of the job application are nothing compared to what I can truly do. This morning I researched current knowledge in the world on theoretical quantum physics. The information in my head makes the entire community of respected scientists look like five-year-olds playing with blocks.
I leave the laboratory and drive my rental car back into town. Unicaltrec’s office is in a small city about half an hour outside of the metropolis. The population of this suburb is 56,000; large enough to contain all of life’s creature comforts, but not so large that a person gets lost in the crowds. I pull into the hote
l parking garage and head to my room.
Today is Friday, which means that I have a couple of days before I start my new job. I still have a considerable sum of money remaining from the duffle bag I was given by the man, and now that I have a job, money won’t be a problem. I decide to go out for dinner and a movie; I haven’t been to the movies since I was twelve years old.
I ask the concierge for recommendations and decide to try a nearby Italian restaurant. After an excellent meal, I get directions to the local theatre — they referred to it as a ‘multiplex.’ I decide on an action movie, and buy a large popcorn and a soft drink. Oh, my God, I forgot how delicious hot buttered popcorn was! I sit down in the theatre, happily eating and reading a movie magazine while I wait for the movie to start.
I notice people holding handheld devices and tapping away on them nonstop. “Excuse me,” I say to a girl sitting a couple of seats away.
She looks up and stares at me.
I decide to be clever about my questions, asking just enough to get answers while trying not to sound totally out of the loop. “What model is that? It looks way better than my old beater.”
The girl’s eyes light up and she nods as she holds the phone up towards me. “Oh, yes, this is the SE33. It’s the latest model Smartphone! It can surf the internet much faster than the last generation phone and do so many other things. You know, it’s still got a great camera, plus all my music is stored on it, and thousands of photos. But this one can do almost anything I need it to do.”
She talks too fast and explains more than I can grasp. I just nod my head and try to absorb as much as I can. By the end of the conversation, which lasts only a minute or so, I understand that these phones can talk instantly to others, get any information a person could ever need, take movies and pictures, and play all the music a person could ever want to hear. I thank her for the demonstration and sit quietly, eating my popcorn and assimilating the information. During the years since I faded away, people have become much more dependent on technology. We had computers, but not much else. I decide I’ll have to get myself one of these phones very soon.
The movie theatre darkens and the picture comes up on the screen. I notice small lights coming from seats throughout the theatre; many people are still focused intently on their phones, tapping away while the movie begins. It doesn’t seem healthy to me, for some reason. Maybe I won’t get a new phone after all.
I sit totally enthralled during the movie. Picture quality, sound, and acting have come a long way since I was a kid! It isn’t until the movie is done and the lights come back up that I realize I’ve forgotten about my popcorn.
It’s about 11 p.m. when I return to my hotel room. I get ready for bed and lie down, smiling as I recap the day in my head. I’m sure that to the average person, my day wouldn’t be anything special, but to me it was magical. I think about where I was just a short time ago, and how long I’ve spent lost from this reality.
Today was one of the greatest days of my life, and it’s only going to get better.
CHAPTER THREE
“Welcome back.”
He opened his eyes and blinked them slowly. His neck was stiff, his mouth dry, and eyes blurry.
It’d been years since he’d woken up like this... almost thirty-eight years, in fact.
A blurry shape entered his line of sight. He felt a hand touch his face and the cool splash of liquid bathing his eyes. He continued to blink, eyes moistening as the blurriness began to fade. “Thanks,” he said. Then he chuckled. His voice had changed so much, but now it was back to normal.
“Can you sit up?” the voice asked him.
“In a minute or two,” he said.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“How ‘bout a sip of water?”
“When you sit up.”
A few moments later he raised his body to a seated position, groaning as he felt the burning of muscles that, for the past three months, had only moved with the help of physical attendants. “Oh, that really hurts,” he said.
He looked around slowly before letting his eyes rest on the man sitting beside him.
“Father.”
“Brandon.”
“Where’s everyone else?” Brandon asked.
“I’ll fill you in later. Here — drink this.” Thorn held a glass out to Brandon and the boy took it.
He sipped from the straw, careful to take small sips. “Any problems?”
Thorn pursed his lips. “A small one,” he said.
Brandon continued to sip from the straw, waiting for Thorn to fill him in.
“Your avatar is still alive inside.”
Brandon arched an eyebrow and moved the straw away from his mouth. “Trew tried to save me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“How sweet of him.” Brandon held the empty glass out and Thorn took it. Brandon started to rotate his limbs slowly, allowing the blood to flow and relax his muscles. “Did you show him the video?”
Thorn chuckled. “Your life story — as much of it as you wanted him to see? Yes, we showed him.”
“And he’s still functioning?”
“Of course he is,” Thorn said. “You knew he would be.”
“I was almost positive he would be...” Brandon said.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No,” Brandon shook his head.
“You’re gambling,” Thorn said.
“You need luck to win,” Brandon laughed. “A true player knows this, and helps guide situations to require the barest amount of luck at the most important moments. It’s no more gambling than crossing a busy street after watching carefully to make certain conditions are most favourable to make it across alive.”
Thorn looked at Brandon and sighed. They had argued about this for years, and neither agreed. “What do you think he will do now?”
“He’ll follow his destiny.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means everything is still on track, Father.”
“But —”
“Yes,” Brandon interrupted him. “Time is running out.”
“Things have gone from bad to worse, son.” Thorn leaned forward.
Brandon held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Thorn frowned and began to speak, but Brandon cut him off. “Don’t say a word. It won’t help for me to know what’s happening here.”
“So you want to sit and pretend that the world isn’t ending?” Thorn asked.
“No.” Brandon laid back down on the table. “I want to know how soon you can put me back into the simulation.”
Thorn frowned. “Your body needs to recharge and get physically strong again.”
“That would take at least a couple of weeks. Years would pass inside the Sim. Things aren’t as bad as you make them out to be if I have that much time, Father.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
“Then answer my question.” Brandon crossed one leg over the other and looked at the ceiling.
“If I put you back in right away, problems could occur,” Thorn said.
Brandon’s eyes sparkled like they did when he was close to the winning a game in the Centre. “So what I’m hearing is that it’s possible to throw me back in immediately.”
Thorn closed his eyes and nodded.
CHAPTER FOUR
Non Player Characters. NPC’s.
Trew’s head moved slowly from side to side, looking at the people around him scurrying from one task to the next. He couldn’t hear them over the buzz in his brain. They seemed to move slower than normal.
None of us are real,he thought to himself.Billions of us, bits of computer code with minds programmed by some mainframe master to complete tasks.
He didn’t have time for this. Why had Thorn showed him the truth? Was it even the truth? If it was, and they were all NPCs, then did that change anything?
Trew shook his head quickly, trying to clear thoughts that he didn’t want to consider. I don’t k
now why Thorn wanted me to know this, but it doesn’t matter. This life feels real to me, to all of us. The lives I’ve experienced in the Game may have been virtual, but they made me who I am today. If I don’t snap out of this, we will all die, and that’s not something I’m going to let happen.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said forcefully.
“What doesn’t matter, Trew?” Michelle asked.
Trew looked around the table. It was full of team members waiting for him to begin the meeting. Brandon had dropped a little over a day ago. They’d lost contact with the Game at the same time.
No one on Tygon had any idea what was going on inside the Game.
Hopefully that was about to change.
“Give me the news, Michelle.” Trew said. He was sitting at the head of the table — Brandon’s seat.
Michelle stood beside the main viewer which displayed various graphs and charts. She looked weary and haggard; the last twenty-nine hours had felt like weeks to all of them.
“It’s a mess,” she said. “Brandon is in stable condition, but there’s no sign that he’ll wake up. As far as the Game is concerned... we still can’t get a signal.” She paused to look at Trew, hoping he would announce that she was wrong and he’d somehow found a way. Trew nodded in agreement and Michelle continued to speak. “Ejected players are being separated and sequestered according to the geographical regions that they were playing in. From hours of intense interviewing as they wake up, we’re slowly beginning to piece together some of the major developments happening in there.”
“How’s Danielle doing?” one of the team mates asked.
“She’s doing well,” Michelle said. “She’s surrounded herself with Timeless and carved out a base of operations in what used to be Cambridge, Canada. It’s been almost two years since ‘the Day’ occurred inside the Game, and they’ve built themselves an impressive colony.”
Virtual Prophet (The Game is Life) Page 1