by Hugo Huesca
He looked peaceful. He did not return this time.
Mom and Dad—James Harrison—left San Mabrada to retire in the countryside. They blatantly refused to set foot in a city again, so we have to fly to their farms for the holidays.
Walpurgis and Mai started their own horse preservation sanctuary. They managed to garner enough support to use the wonders of genetic engineering to keep the horses away from extinction.
Beard became a college professor. He wrote and published a long fantasy series about a dwarf with a huge, manly beard who saved the world by building medieval spaceships. Critics hated it, but the public loved it.
Van kept streaming and her viewership kept growing. I think about twenty percent of the States’ population is now subscribed to her, as crazy as it sounds. To be honest, it’s starting to worry me. I’ve caught her a couple times, practicing her evil laugh in front of the mirror. When I question her, she denies it all.
Irene and her father never reconciled. But after was released from jail, he sometimes stops by during the holidays for an hour or two. It’s always a tense moment for everyone, but so far she hasn’t told him to stop showing up.
Irene and I stayed together. We have never stopped fighting to keep Kipp’s dream alive. We know we are not alone, even though it’s an easy fact to forget during these tumultuous times. We got involved with the Space Program and have been garnering public support for it. We believe some day we may use the other Cole’s picture of the Alien homeworld to make contact again. Perhaps, even, to reignite the Signal.
It may be a tall dream. But, who knows? Space is huge. Anything could happen.
Not all my nights are peaceful. Sometimes, I still get terrible nightmares that make me wake up shaking and covered in sweat. But they quickly lose their effect on me, after I wake up.
Because I don’t have to face them alone.
26 CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SLEEP'S END
THE BOY WOKE up from a long sleep long before opening his eyes. He spent several minutes shuffling in bed, wondering just what the hell had he been dreaming about.
It had been such a strange dream; the kind people try to replicate in movies and books, but just can’t never get it right. It only makes sense when it’s experienced. It loses its magic when you think about it after waking up.
Even then, laying in his bed, sleepy, and fearing the incoming pains and aches of his body, the kid could already feel the magic of the dream slipping away from him.
But it was so cool, he thought with sadness. There were spaceships in it. And monsters.
Perhaps he was dreaming of Rune?
Nah, don’t be silly, he chided himself. Rune doesn’t have monsters. Only mutants, and those are the Federation’s way of giving the new players something to Quest with.
It would make for a nice expansion if Nordic someday got off their asses and started making one. Sure, there was enough content already to last a while…
But how sick would it be? Monsters! They could have this Lovecraftian atmosphere…there could be cults! Underwater cities! We’d have to stop rituals and fight abominations…Man!
The kid decided he’d shoot an email to the developers. Perhaps they’d listen to him. An expansion was just what Rune needed.
It’d help him forget the fact that he was dying.
The usual bleak mood tried to rise again from that ugly part of his mind that made its best effort to sour any happy thoughts he had lately. Just like every other time, he forced himself to ignore it. Everyone had to die sometime. The only thing he regretted was…well, he would probably miss that expansion he had dreamed off.
It should still be made, he thought. It’d be a disservice to mankind not to have it.
Perhaps he’d still get to see it. After all, he had his emergency plan.
It was a longshot, but there was literally no risk involved to him. The reactions of his friends when he had floated the idea for the first time…He stifled a laugh as the last dredges of sleep abandoned his body.
He was already used to people having a very different outlook than he did. As far as he knew, death was a nasty thing that was better not thought about lest it was summoned.
For him, death had been always a constant companion, looking over his shoulder. At some point in his life, the boy had decided to turn around and ask the skeletal monster if he wanted to stop scowling and go with him to watch a movie.
All right, enough already, he told himself. Today’s an important day. All my business has to be squared-up. I have to check with my lawyer to make sure my state is in order, I have to confirm things with the cryogenic service. And I have a stack of books I need to give to Cole.
The books were the part he was most anxious about. His friend was going through some rough times, the boy was sure of it. Running with the Ferals, trying his best to keep his family afloat.
Kipp had no doubt Cole would manage—like he always did. He was a survivor.
And Cole was just the right person to solve a certain mystery. Kipp didn’t like to leave things half-done, but he had little doubt his friend would solve it for him. They shared the same outlook deep down, even if life and circumstances brought them apart for the time being.
Kipp steeled himself to fight against his disease-ridden body over the monumental task of getting out of bed. With a deep breath that seemed to expand his lungs to the bursting point (that was new. Most of the time he felt like he never got enough oxygen no matter how hard he tried), he opened his eyes and tensed his muscles to push himself up.
He ended up face first on the floor, knotted in his bedsheets.
“What the hell?” Kipp asked aloud as he tried to untangle himself from the sheets. Where had that strength come from?
Almost at once he realized several things were wrong around him.
First of all, this was not his bedroom. This place was clinical-white from floor to ceiling. He wasn’t wearing his Power Ranger’s pajamas, but a hospital gown. And he was not alone in the room. There was someone a couple years older than him sitting in a glass chair (could it really be glass?) set against the wall across from his bed.
Kipp could recognize that face and that smirk anywhere in the universe. “Cole? What the everloving motherfuck are you doing here? Wherever here is. I mean, it’s obviously some kind of hospital, but I have to be wrong because no self-respecting doctor would let you loose in the sick bay.”
Kipp said all of this still sprawled on the floor.
He was used to all movements taking a brutal toll on his body. Somehow, standing up from his ridiculous position wasn’t as hard as he thought. He managed it in a second, instead of the minutes of undignified struggle it would normally take.
Cole’s smirk got wider by the second. “It’s a sick bay, all right, that’s one thing you got right.”
Kipp eyes narrowed into slits. He was the self-proclaimed king of practical jokes, and he had developed a kind of sixth sense as to when someone was trying to pull a fast one on him. “Did you get us onto one of those asshole joke channels? Where people get kidnapped in their sleep and put into wacky situations and everyone makes fun of them? Because if you did that to me, your sick and dying friend…man, I would be very impressed. A work of art. Can’t wait to see my face on stream…”
Kipp looked at the corners of the room with a sly smile, searching for the camera drones, but he saw nothing. Cole laughed and stood up.
He was taller than Kipp remembered. He had a stubble, his jaw was wider, as were his shoulders. Hell, he was packing some muscle now, if Kipp’s eyes were to be believed.
His friend was wearing a red leather jacket that would be at home in a Sci-Fi convention. The rest of his outfit was just as surprising. Black military dress pants, belt, and shoes, but with a white t-shirt beneath the red jacket destroying the formal look of the outfit. It was like someone had transplanted Cole Dorsett, street rat, and put him in the clothes and demeanor of a ragged space pirate.
“Don’t worry, you’
ll put it together in a bit,” Cole told him. “It takes a bit for the medications to wear off, they can be a bit confusing.”
First thing Kipp did was bite his lip. It was an automatic reflex, a tic taken from real-time months spent playing in Rune. It was faster than just trying to open a window in front of him.
He was sure this was real life and not virtual reality. Graphics were different.
But he had read enough novels where the protagonist suddenly discovered he was in a simulation. So he double checked.
It was the swelling that confirmed it first.
The tiny section of his lip where he had bitten hard enough to draw blood started to swell a bit.
That was Kipp’s tell. Nordic never bothered to program tiny details like swelling after a wound. No one, that he knew, had ever pointed it out.
“So, we’re not in a simulation,” he started.
“Well, no. At least, not that we’re aware of,” Cole finished his thought for him. “Of course, the entire universe could be one and we wouldn’t know. That’s Philosophy 101.”
“Yeah. But I meant something like Rune,” countered Kipp. If this was the real world…
Next thing he did was look at his hands.
His skin lacked the pale, copper color that had been there all his life—definitely last night before he had gone to sleep. These hands were the same size, felt normal…Except for the tickling and the itches that had been there since he woke up. That was a different kind of sensation than the pain of his sickness—the deep, constant pain like someone was driving hot glass under his skin.
These hands were the color of a scar. He could see blue veins pulsating under his skin. Like an old man.
No, he corrected himself. Old age meant wrinkles. This is closer to a baby’s skin.
Then he realized he felt no sickness at all. His lungs worked better than they had in years. His limbs didn’t fail him if he tried to ask too much out of them.
Kipp met Cole’s eyes as the realizations struggled over each other in Kipp’s brain, one after the other.
“This is not my body, is it?” he whispered.
Cole nodded, but he said, “Why, of course, it is. Courtesy of the States Hegemony, you’re the proud owner of a Kipp Patel MkII. From the neck down, of course. As you can probably feel by now, it’s a bit more efficient than your standard MkI body. This one processes chemicals faster, for example. Only three hours have gone by since we brought you to this room from the operating table. Normally, you would’ve been sleeping for the entire day.”
The day had come and gone and Kipp had forgotten it. He recalled a distant image of his car, a stack of old science fiction novels, and Cole carrying them away into his apartment. But everything else was blurry.
Of course I can barely remember it. That’s the day I died.
His friend read his realization straight out of his eyes. “That’s right. Welcome back to the land of the living, Kipp.”
The truth hit Kipp like a wall of bricks at eighty miles per hour. He doubled over himself like someone had punched him in the stomach, and held his face with his new hands. The skin was soft and warm. Like silk.
Cole stood in silence, and he shifted uncomfortably at the sight. “I know it can be a lot to take in. If you want me to come back later—if you want a moment by yourself—”
“What are you, daft?” Kipp laughed. At once, he recovered. He flashed a smile like an explosion of mirth. “I called it! I totally knew this would happen! Hah! And they thought I was mad! There’s nothing wrong with having someone hack away your head from your dead body and freeze it until technology is advanced enough to fix it! Nothing at all! I can’t be mad if I’m right!”
He laughed again and extended his right palm towards Cole. “Oh yes, did I just cheat death! That’s why you look older… Because you are older! How long have I been out? Have you finally managed to get laid, or has science not come far enough yet?”
Cole doubted an instant before meeting Kipp’s hand with his own and letting it drop awkwardly. “That’s a high five, huh?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot what a high five is.”
Cole shook his head. “Things may be a bit different than you remember. You were frozen for almost forty years.”
“Oh.” Kipp’s eyes rounded in surprise. “That’s a lifetime. Just like what happened to Captain America? Man, I’m just like Captain America…”
But behind his jokes and fooling around, Kipp was thinking, It has been sixty years. Something doesn’t add up.
His mind had suffered enough shocks today, though, so it was a bit slow on the uptake.
Cole scanned Kipp’s reaction with feigned disinterest, like a doctor who was checking on a patient too close to a nervous breakdown. “Sorry to have you wait. Truth be told, we could’ve brought you back a decade ago in a robotic body, but your best friend insisted the Hegemony waited until the stem regeneration process was perfected. Your body is a hundred percent yours. We grew it bit by bit from your neck down, following the instructions in your own DNA.”
“Badass,” Kipp grinned.
“Oh, yes,” Cole returned the grin. For an instant, he was ten years younger, back to Kipp’s age, a kid on the verge of adulthood once again.
Then Kipp frowned. “What do you mean ‘your best friend’? Bud, you are my best friend. I thought you knew that.”
“That’s flattering, Kipp, really,” Cole expression was a mixture of impishness and doubt. “But…Am I? Really? Look closer.”
Kipp did so, more or less at the same time his mind reminded him, Everyone your own age is sixty now.
Cole looked only a bit older than him. There were details that didn’t match Kipp’s memory. The cheeks were higher. The lips were different. His eyes were green.
Kipp had seen that exact shade of green before, it had just a tad of hazelnut added to the mix.
Finally, he put two and two together.
He froze in shock, too stunned to react. He realized his mouth was open, but he wasn’t speaking.
With a tentative smile, the young man in front of him—who looked just like his best friend—crossed the distance between them and extended his hand towards Kipp, a formal handshake, the correct gesture for two guys who just met each other.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Kipp. I’m James Dorsett. My father talked a lot about you.”
27 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE LAST QUEST
KIPP WHISPERED a string of expletives under his breath. He almost told Cole—James—that he must be taking the piss out of him. But the evidence was too strong to ignore now that he knew what he was looking at. Green eyes, different complexion, different height. Different clothes.
“This is getting close to an episode of the Twilight Zone,” Kipp said. “You’re his son? And I think I recognize your eyes…but that would be insane…”
“Yeah, my mother was a friend of yours too,” James said. “Irene.”
Kipp threw his arms in the air in a gesture of rejection, like he was turning his back on this entire reality that made no sense. “No way! Those two? But they never even met each other!”
The memory of himself sending a message to Rylena in-game edged its way to the front of his mind. How he had asked her to team up with Cole to tackle the mystery of Kipp’s Key.
“Uh. I guess I did that,” he said to himself. He opened his mouth once or twice again, trying to process the news.
This was the future. He had woken up in the future. He was cured. Cole and Irene had gotten together. Somehow.
He raised his eyes toward James, who was still smiling almost apologetically. “You know what this means?”
“Eh—” James started, but got cut off.
“This means I’m your uncle, young man.”
James Dorsett blinked at him. “Ah—We’re not related…”
“No matter. You should respect your elders,” Kipp went on. “By hiding your identity from me, you’ve brought dishonor to your fami
ly.”
“I’m deeply sorry, ancestor,” James bowed deeply as he stifled a laugh. “But I’m merely following my father’s suggestion. He thought it’d be hilarious to see if you really mixed us up. Seems he was right.”
“Ah! So the real culprit shows his tentacles,” Kipp said. “I should have guessed Cole was the only guy asshole enough to mock a dead friend. Where is he?”
His friends had a lot to answer for. Which was another way of saying, he was yearning to meet with Cole and Irene. The age difference didn’t even factor in Kipp’s mind. No matter what they looked like, they were the same people.
They had so much to talk about!
James’ eyes flickered down for a second, but the gesture didn’t escape Kipp’s trained eyesight. Too many nights playing Space Captain for gestures like that to go unnoticed.
It was like someone threw a balloon filled with cold water at his head.
“Don’t tell me they—”
Sixty years old. People already had anti-aging tech when Kipp had lived. And Irene’s family was rich, so she and Cole should have access to it. Right?
But accidents happen.
“You should better come with me,” James told him. “I have a lot to tell you about.”
Kipp followed his friends’ son out of the hospital room and into a complex of corridors with navy blue walls and a synthetic ivory floor. Soft, blue LED lights added a touch of ambiance to the whole situation, like they were walking through the set of a Hollywood blockbuster. James followed a series of lights on the bottom of the walls. The lights had the shape of arrows and flowed down the corridors with some set destination in mind.
“These are for your benefit,” James explained. “So you don’t get lost.”
Kipp nodded. The reluctance James showed when Kipp tried to talk about Cole and Irene’s current state had dried the kid’s mouth. He started to dread finding out the reason.
They walked in the direction the arrows indicated for a long time and went out of the series of corridors several times. It was clear they were in a facility of some sort.