The Goddess Quest

by Lawrence Ambrose

  "The police found the backpack, but it was never mentioned publicly." Tatiya's expression had softened. She was listening, at least.

  "Sadly, a cop noticed the backpack and started to arrest me," said Alex. "That's when it all went down."

  "By 'went down' you mean you killed the officer and then proceeded to kill every other police officer on the scene, along with an innocent motorist and two EMTs."

  "When you put it that way it sort of does make me look bad."

  "You are bad. Clearly."

  "For what it's worth, I would never kill a real person, except in self-defense. Deleting sims doesn't count."

  "Add 'deluded' to 'bad.'"

  "Was my thirty-eight mph run a delusion?"

  Tatiya leaned forward, her face grim. "Your abilities are real, and it's possible you believe you're merely 'deleting sims,' but that's the delusion. It's a fact that you're killing real, live people, whether you believe it or not."

  "Well, unfortunately, the biggest truth I could reveal to you if I accepted this agreement would be the fact that your world – and everyone in it who isn't an avatar – is a simulation."

  "And you're just wandering through, playing games, following cryptic clues, collecting magical powers and money."

  "You got it."

  Tatiya raised a hand to her head – to rub her temples in exasperation, Alex was sure – but she aborted the motion, clenching her jaw instead.

  "If I were you, I'd accept that offer," she said through her teeth. "Because if you don't, I'm going to recommend that it be withdrawn. You are a menace to society. They should lock you up and throw away the key. Not just throw it away – they should destroy it. A person like you should never be allowed to see the light of day again."

  "Fortunately, you're not in charge of that."

  "Are you rejecting the offer?"

  "Yes, as it is. I have a counteroffer. Allow me two more weeks of freedom before you incarcerate me. Then I'll sign this paper and cooperate fully."

  "Didn't you say that if you won this contest that you'd earn god-like powers?"

  "Yes, but what do my delusions matter? After the contest, nothing will change – so you believe – and you just lock me back up."

  "They would never agree to let you out. You're far too dangerous."

  "Keep me under observation. Heck, you can travel with me for all I care. Just don't interfere with the contest."

  "You have other people you need to kill?"

  "Not that I know of. If you keep the cops away, that won't be a problem. In fact, the GM tend to frown on violence. They're probably not too happy with me right now."

  "GM?"

  "Gamemasters. The programmers. The creators of this world. They've placed constraints on avatars acting out by allowing the sim authorities the power to punish them. Criminal prosecution, government fines, imprisonment – all have binding effects on avatars. The Founders don't want a bunch of rowdy avatars wreaking havoc on this world."

  "You don't seem concerned."

  "Only because I'm in a special contest that permits a reset. Otherwise, I'd be shitting cinderblocks. What I'm concerned about is losing the game."

  Tatiya wore a weary expression. This time she didn't stop herself from reaching up and massaging her forehead. After a few moments, she rose.

  "I'll convey your request," she said. "Meanwhile, I'm recommending you be placed in one of our maximum security holding cells."

  Chapter 14

  WHILE ALEX'S AVATAR LANGUISHED in a dimly lit eight by ten room with a steel toilet, sink, and a thin, pillow-less cot, Alex ate dinner with her mom – replying "fine" when asked how things were going – and afterward, jogged listlessly around the yard as the sun flirted with the tops of nearby houses in its evening descent. She was tired. Bone-tired. More tired physically than she could ever remember being – and yet energized mentally. A common juxtaposition for her, but the divide seemed sharper than usual.

  She was tempted to call Bran and discuss the latest developments, but she didn't see much to analyze at this point, and sleep seemed a better option. She said an early goodnight to her mother, whose small smile and nod approved the decision, and lay in bed waiting for sleep to come to her overactive brain. The possibilities appeared simple: either DARE would agree to her proposal, which she thought was less than fifty-fifty, or they'd keep her under lock and key. If the latter, she could devote herself to escape or simply accept defeat and get on with her so-called life a few hundred thousand ODs richer.

  A text message pinged from her cell. She retrieved it from the nightstand. She expected Brandon or possibly Brad, but this was from the OMG (Omniverse Gamemasters).

  Congratulations, Dionysus3556! You are the first to solve Stage Three!

  You have been awarded 200,000 OD, which includes a $100,000 bonus for being first.

  Alex sat up, stunned. The one possibility she hadn't seriously considered was receiving a solution of Stage 3. That could only mean that the authorities had charged Henna Flowers!

  She googled the Parallel US news, swiftly confirming that Henna had been charged. "District of New Mexico U.S. Attorney Walter Klein, in cooperation with the State Attorney General and New Mexico First Judicial District Attorney, have decided to charge Henna Anne Flowers for the deaths of multiple victims on state and interstate highways, including the five members of the Bronson family on state highway 30 –"

  A beep signaled another text. Alex lifted her phone.

  You have also been awarded Grade 5 telekinetics.

  Grade 5? She'd won Grades 3 and 8, so she could only guess what she could do with five – but it was quite possibly a game changer. Grade 5 could, if properly focused, apply about two tons of force. Enough to lift one corner of a small car, blow a door off its hinges, or cave in someone's head.

  Back in business, back in business, back in fucking business! Alex wanted to get up and dance a triumphant jig. Grade 5 telekinetics didn't guarantee she could escape the DARE facility, but it greatly improved her chances.

  Another text arrived:

  Now for your next clue:

  Beneath a grey flag

  A grave truth lies

  Seek the white stag

  Riding cloudy skies

  The clue confirmed the "buried truth" thesis. She googled cemeteries, soul city, nc. The only result was a small family gravesite – no grey flags or white stags pictured.

  Alex expanded the search to Manson, NC, scene of mysterious deaths and disappearances. Better luck: A cemetery called "New Hope." One of its three images did feature a grey flag in one corner of the lot, too fuzzy to identify its markings. The brief description didn't provide any clues about the flag or gravesites. Looked like the destination of choice, though.

  She closed her computer, throttling back her excited urge to rejoin her avatar. She needed to be on top of her game when she returned, which, sadly, required she get some true rest apart from her REM helmet. Once she started applying her telekinetics – locking mechanisms and power connections probable initial targets – it wouldn't take long for the DARE people to detect her additional power and take countermeasures. Grade 5 wouldn't be enough to overpower a squad of armed government jackboots, though perhaps in combination with her 3x strength she could brute-force her way to freedom. Better to test her telekinetics subtly to get a handle on their limits before launching a bold escape.

  Alex worried about falling asleep, but soon her thoughts merged into a natural dream, so blurry and uncontrollable versus an AFIRM-induced REM. She'd come to view normal dreaming as an annoying, messy necessity, much like a bowel movements, minus the smell.

  She woke up nine hours later feeling as refreshed and close to bladder-bursting as she'd felt in weeks. A girl could really get used to not having to eat, pee, or poop.

  In the kitchen, she made herself eat the breakfast her mom, now at work, had prepared. She walked that off for a half-hour or so before returning to the exercise mat in her bedroom for situps and pushups.


  Having exercised due discipline, Alex climbed into her AFIRM and saddled up. Time to start practicing her newfound super-ability – given she was still locked in her charming high-security cell.

  She was. Alex roused her big male body off the cot where it had been peacefully slumbering and made a show of stretching for the doubtless many cameras. Under the guise of stretching, she braced her hands against the steel door and mentally probed the handle/latch area. She imagined rods or gears moving inward. Telekinetics required focus to have a precise effect. At the higher grades, you could break most stuff, but she doubted Grade 5 could cut through this thickness of hardened steel with sheer force. Turning internal gears ought to work, however, unless the electronics controlling the locks supplied considerable resistance. She had no idea. But she thought she should be able to severe the electronic connections if need be.

  Alex felt no connection with anything in the door or surrounding wall. Only a Grade 8 or better permitted a sensory link between person and object. She could merely listen for the squeaks, clicks, or rumblings of metal parts.

  She imagined a bolt sliding inward near the point where a normal door lock would be. A faint creaking within the door suggested movement. She reversed the direction. More creaking and a quiet tap. Again, inward force, this time not releasing her mental hold until she heard a terminal-sounding clink. Would the door open? Was she prepared to make her move now, or would the future bring a better opportunity? Perhaps Tatiya would come to interrogate her again soon. But she'd come with an armed guard.

  Alex gave the door a light telekinetic tug. It didn't budge. Apart from a tiny stirring in the metal, nothing. She pulled harder, slowly increasing her force to its max. No go.

  She was searching for options when multiple locks thunked and the door opened ponderously into the hallway where a phalanx of black suits waited with manacles and one electric cart. One of them tossed in leg and wrist manacles. She considered utilizing her telekinetics to take out the agents, but didn't like her chances against eight men with their rifles at ready.

  They were moving her somewhere. Someone, probably Tatiya or one of her superiors, wanted to talk. Either possibility might offer better escape opportunities. She slipped on the manacles, which snapped into place. Alex guessed she could unsnap them, but no guarantees. She just had to follow her intuition, which said that now was not the right moment to go ballistic.

  They rolled her back to the interrogation room. Tatiya was there, joined by an older woman dressed in a power business pantsuit. With her high cheekbones, patrician nose, and raptorial brown eyes, she made Alex think of a hawk on a perch, glaring down at him.

  "Mr. Milner," she said, after they'd chained Alex to the table. "I'm Elizabeth Learner."

  "Nice to see you, Madame Secretary."

  Alex was being sincere. Secretary Learner's appearance here now suggested good news. The Secretary stood ramrod straight, studying her with imperious grey eyes, perhaps to impress her with her imperial rank. Alex lounged back in her chair, returning her gaze, smiling, waiting.

  "Do you find this amusing, Mr. Milner?" she asked. "You think this is all a game?"

  "What would give you that idea? Aside from the fact that I keep saying it over and over again?"

  "Well, I can assure you that the loss of human life is no game to us."

  "I know." Alex attempted to soften her smirk. "I assume you're here to discuss my counter-offer?"

  "In part." Secretary Learner lowered her briefcase on the table and took a chair facing Alex. "For the last several years, DARE has been working with military intelligence on the premise that at least some augmented individuals did not receive their powers from the Stark County meltdown. The evidence for that is classified. Our working theory is that some Augmented Individuals – AIs – come from a parallel dimension or dimensions – what science fiction calls 'alternate worlds.'"

  The cleverness of the idea captivated Alex. The GM's simulation had gone much deeper than was advertised, deeper than the public or even the wild-eyed conspiracy sites had ever speculated.

  "The Department of Defense created a special division within DARE dedicated to studying, investigating, and countering any possible threats involving unauthorized visitors to our world. Agent Wilson" – she glanced at her – "is a scientist/field agent who works for that division."

  "Alien Investigation Division?" Alex ventured. "AID?"

  "Close. Special Investigations Division."

  "SID. Not as evocative."

  "I'll forward your recommendation to the Defense Secretary."

  She folded her arms and regarded Alex with a bleak smile. Tatiya brushed a strand of red hair from her lightly freckled forehead. The three black-suited men in the room with them stood with their TASER-type rifles poised in Alex's general direction.

  "I understand you want to be released on your own recognizance for two weeks," said the DARE director, "in exchange for full cooperation while you serve out a minimum of twenty years in a maximum security DARE facility."

  "That will work."

  "Unfortunately, not for us. Once you're outside these walls, the chances of controlling you are minimal to none, in my opinion. An opinion that's shared by everyone I consulted on that point. Instead, we are prepared to offer a reduced sentence for your full cooperation: eight years."

  "Oh," said Alex.

  She pretended to meditate on Secretary Learner's offer while in reality was focusing on her wrist cuffs, now folded in her lap beneath the table. After some mental adjustments, she watched the right link slowly open. A millimeter grew to a centimeter in roughly ten seconds. Sensing the two women's scrutiny, Alex pasted a troubled, reflective expression on her face. A few seconds later, the chain link connection on the left cuff succumbed to her telekinetic persuasion. She left them both in place. Now for the ankles –

  "Mr. Milner?" Secretary Learner inquired with a cocked eyebrow.

  "Well..." Alex coughed quietly. "I was wondering if you could reduce that incarceration period a little more."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "How about a day?"

  Learner laughed. Tatiya's smile was uncertain.

  "Or maybe two," said Alex, forcing her eyes up to meet theirs for appearance's sake. "That's about how long it would take to give you everything I know."

  "Perhaps, but we also need to make sure you don't pose a threat to society before we release you."

  Alex was nodding along while willing the link near her right ankle clasp to open. Either the metal was thicker or she was losing her focus.

  "Does that make sense, Mr. Milner?"

  "Please, call me Alex." The ankle chain link was finally opening, like a time-lapse film of a drunken emerging pupa into a butterfly.

  "We would consider reducing your time further," said the DARE Secretary, "depending on future developments."

  "And the employment offer?" A few more seconds of distraction needed.

  "Was made in good faith."

  The final link on his left ankle was now open.

  "Hmm..." Alex layered her thoughtful murmur over the tinkling sound of her chains slipping free. "There's one problem. I don't care about the future beyond the next couple of weeks, so your offer has no appeal."

  "You'd rather spend the next twenty years in a solitary cell?"

  "Wouldn't I get a trial by my peers as guaranteed by the Constitution?" Alex was honestly curious.

  "Our Constitution applies to U.S. citizens. You're an alien."

  "Huh. Good point." Alex focused on the three men's weapons and squeezed hard on their front assemblies. "I guess it's Option B, then."

  "What's 'Option B'?"

  Alex lifted the manacles and set them on the table. The three armored agents whipped up their TASER-rifles and fired. Two of the rifles hummed and issued smoke. The third sent a cascade of sparks back along its body into the guard, who dropped it with a startled grunt.

  Tatiya leaped to her feet, raising her fist. Secretary Learn
er grabbed her wrist.

  "No," she said.

  Outside, the guards started to open the door. Alex shoved it closed and pushed the handle area outward, jamming it in place. The guards drew their pistols. Alex smacked them against each other and propelled them into a far wall. While they struggled to recover, she compressed the barrels of their pistols.

  Secretary Learner was still grasping Tatiya's wrist, pushing it down, which the DARE scientist appeared to resist. Alex stood up.

  "Secretary Leaner," she said. "Would you mind arranging for a helicopter to pick us up?"

  Learner's mouth opened, closed, opened, and closed into a grim, determined line. One of the guards fired his pistol. A flame erupted from its hand into his visor. The other two aimed their handguns at him, hesitating.

  "I wouldn't," said Alex.

  "Holster your weapons," said Secretary Learner. She made a sharp stilling gesture to the guards outside the door, who ceased attempting to ram it open. Her right hand maintained a death's grip on Tatiya's wrist. Interesting.

  "You didn't mention you had psychokinetic power," the Secretary said to Alex.

  "Just was awarded it, thanks to your police finally deciding to charge Henna Flowers, which qualified as a solution to one of my challenges." Learner frowned at her uncomprehendingly. "Now please make the call."

  "I can't call out for a helicopter," said Learner. "Cells don't work in here."

  "But I'll bet those mobile phones strapped to the guards' belts will." Alex nodded with a world-weary smile to the radios clearly hanging from the agents' equipment belts. "Make the call, Secretary Learner."

  "I don't believe I'll do that."