Rick knew Brock as the fierce god of war. Everyone knew him as that. But was that a TV persona? The implications were too massive to contemplate. Rick’s fragile mental wellbeing could collapse at any time. Brock was the rock his reality clung to in the battering currents of life.
“Must’ve been one mala cabron!”
“Yeah, a bad motherfucker… And he’s after you Diego.”
“I’ve faced pirate hunters before! And I already killed two of those coños while you were sleeping! Maricon!” Rick watched intently expecting Brock to lose it any second.
Nothing, Brock just shrugged. Rick didn’t recognise this tame version of his friend. The role of the broken-spirited martyr was his and his alone. He better cheer up.
No Pain No Gain
Brock was not in a good place, and he had no idea if he was doing a good job of masking his true feelings. He’d been left to his brooding by the others. Diego was entertaining them with tales of his adventures in the Saturnian system.
Having the pulp beaten out of him so soundly had triggered deep introspection within Brock. In a moment like this, he could have really benefited from some guidance. The kind Pops used to dish out. Still no news from the old warrior.
Brock had tried in vain to get in touch with the resistance, he hadn’t heard from them since they left Mars. Information gleaned online painted a picture of an inner system in chaos. The fleet was still busy rounding up pirates and defusing the situation with Ceres. They were on their own.
Brock thought the resistance was present throughout Solus, but he had no way of getting in touch with them. Pops had set everything up on Luna and Mars. Diego had dismissed his worries, assuring everyone he had a reliable network of contacts throughout the system. So far the crazy Mexican android had been an asset. He could fly, he could fight, and he’d delivered on the supplies. Trusting him further seemed reasonable enough. It just pissed Brock off to have to rely on Diego’s machinations. It was something viceral.
Brock liked control or had become accustomed to it. He didn’t enjoy the helplessness, that feeling of free falling desperately clutching at air. He imagined this was what Rick must have felt like. Brock had newfound empathy for his friend, this was not a pleasant sensation. He hadn't felt so at a loss in decades, and he still couldn't believe he'd been saved by that deranged pirate.
Brock wasn’t sure it was necessary to stop by Titan, they had fuel and supplies enough for the trip to Eris. He’d voiced his opinion meekly, in a decidedly un-Brock fashion. His lack of resolve had sealed their fate, and Titan would be their destination. He’d never been to Saturn, so he listened to Diego babbling on about it. Only the relevant bits. Like the Jovian system it was a fuel and supplies mecca, but better, Saturn’s gravity was less obnoxious than Jupiter’s. Diego knew some people on Titan, who they were or how he knew them was not important he’d said.
Titan, like Ganymede, had taken well to terraforming and had become a pleasant world. Though thanks to a more forgiving gravitational environment the other moons had been colonised with more ease and the population was more spread out. Which Diego explained would make it far easier to discreetly navigate the system, his monologue was cut short by Moon, much to Brock’s relief.
“Diego? Do your friends know a good place on Titan where a girl can get some work done?”
“What kind of work?” Brock couldn’t help the corner of his mouth lifting slightly when he observed Rick’s confusion.
“I need some upgrades if I’m going to stay with you.” She smiled at Rick and Brock’s smile grew to a grin as he watched his friend melt into a puddle. Moon continued, “my body was designed for operation in the Terra-Luna environment. Longhaul space flight requires some upgrades. I need better radiation filters, an anti-atrophy kit, zero-g adapters and vacuum emergency shield deployment. And maybe a weapon of some sort.”
“Yeah, I know a guy!” Brock was not convinced, bad upgrades were worse than no enhancements, Pops had said so a thousand times.
“Diego! No fuckery! She needs the best, and I need repairs and upgrades too.” Brock’s voice surprised even him. A little bit of his old self was in the tone. They all felt it, no jokes from Diego or Rick who still hadn’t recovered from Moon’s loving glance.
“Hombre! When will you start trusting me?”
“You’ll know…”
“Look at my body hermano! I like the good stuff!” Brock shrugged and went back to brooding while Diego crowed with amusement.
Diego was a wild colorful mish-mash of parts, but he was functional. Rick and Moon started talking upgrades with Diego, Brock had no interest in continuing to socialise. He brought up his body’s damage report. The extensive nanobot colony inhabiting his body had done a great job of repairing his injuries. His cracked bones were mended, his cuts and seared flesh were healed. His pride was still very much wounded though.
Shattered confidence and the loss of his mentor made Brock feel diminished. Diego had stepped up and become the group’s guide and protector, furthering Brock’s emasculation. He stood up and left the bridge, the urge to be alone had come over him.
There were a few small training rooms on the upper deck. Beating a dummy might make him feel better, or at least remind him of his strength. No one said anything as he left, just as well, he didn’t feel like explaining himself. Mr T stayed with the others at his request.
Brock had fed his fight’s data to the gym’s AI for analysis. He’d have to be ready if he was going to fight Spickard again. Fear gnawed at him. Was his opponent beyond him? The data didn't lie, Spickard was not stronger. He wasn’t faster either. Brock had been frozen during the whole fight. Like a deer paralysed by headlights, he’d taken the full impact. But just like the deer could have hopped out of the way, Brock could have fought back.
Spickard was about as strong and fast as he was, but Brock had not faced an equal in a long time. He needed to train to match Spickard’s experience. The time for fighting off crazed fans was bygone. He needed to become an actual warrior again. He had enough data on Spickard to create a virtual sparring partner. He’d be ready next time.
Brock laid down on his back. His breathing slowed as he readied for a virtual training session. Rick walked in. Brock opened his eyes to watch him approach. Rick had one of those smiles white people make when they’re sorry they farted in a confined space. That “I’m sorry I can’t help you, but hopefully this half-assed smile does the trick” face.
“Hey mate… How’s it going?” That smile again.
“I’m fine buddy. It’s not your job to worry about me.”
“Who’s job is it then? Do you have other friends you’ve been seeing behind my back?” Rick chuckled, but Brock had just spent twenty minutes concentrating for a fifty-year virtual training session. His mood was more on the stern side.
“Really Rick I’m fine. I’ve looked at the data, and I’ll beat that motherfucker next time.”
“Did it hurt?”
“What?”
“Getting your ass handed to you!”
“No Rick, it felt great. Punk!”
“I jest! But seriously though. Why don’t you turn off pain receptors? You can do that right?” Brock examined Rick’s features. He seemed earnest. Fine.
“Pain lets you know something is wrong, and you should look at fixing it. Pain is important. Also, the other side of pain is pleasure. No pain. No pleasure.”
“Yeah, but pain… I could do without so much of it.”
“It’s a fine line. We’re transhuman, not sub-human. We shouldn’t be trying to feel less. If anything we should feel more.”
“OK… That’s a little hypocrite.”
“Why?”
“You know… Pretending everything’s all rosy when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and scream. Isn’t that suppressing pain?” Brock appreciated Rick’s attempts, so he’d indulge him a bit longer.
“Rick my coping mechanism is training. So I’m going to train.”
“OK
fine. But, you know I’ve been doing some thinking about Ganymede. And had you come with us, the soldiers would’ve ambushed us all. So this may have been the best possible outcome.” Rick actually made a valid point.
“Thanks, bro, I appreciate it.”
“I love you, bro!” Brock pretended like he was doing Rick a favour accepting his embrace, but really he needed that hug, and it felt good. Knowing you’re not alone in tough times is as good as it gets, even if your support network is effectively an alcoholic man-child.
“I love you too. Now, fuck off and let me train.” Rick laughed and left Brock to his thoughts.
Brock lay back down and prepared himself mentally for the challenge ahead. When he emerges from his training session decades will have passed for him. Though he would not age physically, the journey into virtual training would age him mentally.
Those who stayed too long in the virtual world could lose mind and body, returning to a world they barely recognised and could not adapt to anymore. The brain needed recovery periods between sessions or it suffered from over-aging. The rule of thumb was to never exceed hundred year sessions. Anything above that and the brain would suffer damage, people just came out demented or with amnesia or some other delightful brain trauma.
Those afflicted with Virtual Sickness usually retired from this reality, into one of the many VS centres. There, people lived out their lives in the virtual world they’d come to prefer. Some still served society from their virtual worlds, and some were stuck in a perpetual state of hallucination.
Brock had never spent more than a day in virtual training, which could still equate to decades, on newer machines. Old machines weren’t so good. Early pioneers had to spend longer in the machines and staying days or longer is when the danger started to materialise.
In the beginning, before neural converters could stimulate muscles, some people lost their bodies to inactivity, though to lose a body to atrophy had required them to hack machines so they could spend months in the machines. Some people were just that committed.
Body atrophy wasn't a problem anymore, for those with the right enhancements. Mind disconnection and brain over-aging were still very much a problem though. Once the mind severed the connection to the real world, it was hard to re-establish it.
Necessity or purpose had driven the first virtual pioneers, and they'd given everything up to further transhumanity. Many of the great discoveries had been made by those who sacrificed their bodies to the advancement of science. These first transhumans had spent hundreds if not thousands of years researching the means to improve civilisation.
Brock had served with people who’d made hard choices. War had broken their minds and they couldn’t hack it in the real world, some had even become a danger to the people they loved. Brock had lost his mind before, he could sympathise with those that chose to retire from this world. Not his style though.
Brock was a fighter and had always been a fighter. He could have laid down and died with his parents, but instead, his primal instincts had taken over. Feral Brock had risen to face the apocalypse, and he had triumphed. He would always rise again. He was a fighter.
Brock closed his eyes and entered a world where he would spend decades having the crap kicked out of him.
Rick 3.0
Rick’s desire to upgrade his body had all but dissipated until Moon mentioned she needed some changes. His mind was stuck on the implication of the word “need”. She wasn’t getting upgrades because she wanted them, she needed them to survive. Brock needed repairs and enhancements as well. Rick was thinking on whether he needed work done. The armoured suit had been great so far, the new shoulder felt like the old one. Did he need more enhancements?
The nanomachine upgrade made it a lot easier to remove the suit. Rick could probably survive a bit longer without a quantum anus. He needed to survive though. Moon’s attention had distracted him from his usual paranoia, but they were still very much in danger. All the time. And after what happened to Brock, maybe it was time he became the warrior he’d dreamt of being as a child. If only to protect her, he knew she didn’t need it, but he’d feel better if he was a little bit more of a fighter.
“We’re here!”
Rick was pulled out of his reveries by Moon’s voice. Before them the Saturnian system.
“Where are the rings?” Rick’s disappointment was exaggerated, and Moon shook her head at his dramatisation. The rings were still there.
“They’re diminished is all.”
“What happened?”
“How do you not know this?” Moon punctuated her question with a shoulder punch, the others were paying attention to the exchange and seemed entertained. “The colonists spent the last few decades sucking up the dust.” Moon offered a wry smile with her explanation.
“Why?” Rick knew the answer, it was obvious, but the show must go on.
Moon humoured him and explained that it was about resources that were easy to collect. Rick was still very much the last human, last to know everything, it's what the fans expected. Though, he didn’t mind the teasing so much when it came from Moon. In fact, he found that he cared less and less for the unfortunate turn of events, as long as she was by his side all would be well. He had yet to find the courage to kiss her. For the moment he was content with her sitting near him, with hand-holding and simply her gaze. When she looked at him, really looked at him, it felt like she could see inside of him. She did not avert her eyes, and that made him feel like he existed, really existed. She was looking at him right now. Her lips were moving, she was still talking. Rick jumped back in.
“So what’s so special about this place?” Good save.
“Well, for one Titan is as close to home away from home as you’ll get.” Rick furrowed his brow and scratched the stubble on his chin. He knew Moon found it cute when he concentrated or pretended to. “The many moons, moonmoons and moonlets…” Rick burst out laughing, Moon stopped, she must have known this would trigger him.
“What the hell are moonmoons?” The retarded wolf meme sprang to mind and sent Rick spiralling into a laughing fit.
“Just moons that orbit other moons.”
“Oh…” The response was underwhelming, but Rick had found the meme and sent it to Moon. It was funny, and she bent over laughing. “Could you concentrate for a minute and explain the deal with this place?” Rick’s raised eyebrow and haughty expression had the desired effect. It took Moon a moment to compose herself.
Moon wiped tears from her cheeks, “well, I was about to tell you before you interrupted me.”
Rick tickled Moon beneath the ribs and said he was sorry. She chuckled, he was on a roll. They played and poked each other, and after a few minutes, they were still playing... The dog had joined in the fun and was happily bounding about Rick as he chased a giggling Moon around the bridge. This lasted a few minutes, until Gary piped up.
“Uh, guys? We are shooting, you know that, right?” Rick stopped chasing Moon. He had in fact forgotten that they were filming. “I’m not saying this is bad by the way. It’s just it’d be good to get Moon to finish the Saturn bit. For the episode intro sequence.”
“Sorry, Gary.” Moon walked passed Rick with a fake sullen face full of mirth and went back to her console.
“Sorry, Gary.” Rick went back to his chair and swiveled towards Moon with a massive grin. “So where were we before I rudely interrupted you?” Rick puckered his lips when he said “rudely” in an attempt to sound lordly, Moon’s cackle seemed to escape her control. Her cheeks turned bright red as she covered her mouth. This wasn’t the first time this happened, it endeared Rick to no end. He’d have to talk to Gary about collecting all of Moon’s cackles for some bloopers.
“Well I think I was about to tell you something about how there’s plenty of gases and they’re easy to pump compared to Jupiter.”
“Ah yes, I see, quite interesting.” Rick was stroking his stubble again, pretending like he had a monocle. It sent Moon on another laughing fit. “A
nd would you say this is a good system?” Moon was drying her tears, but Rick’s puckered lips emphasis on “good” set her off again.
“Yes, it’s…” Rick didn’t let her get any farther before coming in with his fatality.
“Would you say it is poodle-friendly?” Rick watched as Moon fell off her chair and half-died of laughter.
Somewhere at the back of the room, Gary sighed, and that made Rick even happier. The others had lost interest in Rick and Moon’s bizarre courting display. Rick could see Steve was still filming, but the others had moved on. For a minute he started to have dark thoughts again. Were people only interested in his suffering? Was his happiness not entertainment enough?
The darkness quickly dissipated, his mind swiftly bringing forth memories that calmed his temper.
Truth be told he’d never enjoyed watching people kissing or generally being happy together. Not even in movies. But he’d also not been in love before, it was changing him. He could feel it. The best way he could describe it was that he was becoming poetic. Art, the universe, clouds, colours, sounds and everything else had taken on a new quality, a poetic quality. Things were still what they were before, but now there was also an ephemeral nostalgic beauty to everything. His gaze rested on things a little bit longer than before, he cared a little more deeply about everything now, he could understand every song, painting and work of art.
Rick had always agreed with the general consensus on love. Undetectable pheromones that compelled animals to reproduce. But it was more than that. There was also an urge to better himself. Rick wanted to rise to the challenge. Any challenge. For her, he would do anything. He’d never felt that before. Quite the opposite usually.
The Last Human entered the system near Titan. Diego explained that he’d circled around to avoid unnecessary detection. Rick didn’t really care. He was watching Moon. She’d picked herself up from the floor after the dog’s licking had become too much to endure. Diego nonetheless continued to explain that he was putting the ship in geosynchronous orbit above Titan’s Zero City.
Space Shenanigans Page 14