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Code Jumper

Page 12

by Zachariah Dracoulis


  “That’s not what I’m trying to do.” I replied, barely fighting back the urge to let out a little snicker at the obvious double-entendre.

  This might sound horrible, and it was something I could never tell Kathy, but when Brendan had killed himself a few days after he’d found out what he’d done I’d been too numb to process it, and by the time I could properly feel again it’d already been so long that the emotional shock of it had passed.

  “Alright, alright,” Kathy said, surrendering to the fact that I wasn’t about to abandon Hugo, “well, I’m always here, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Thanks. Talk to you later.”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond before she hung up, which I didn’t really mind, she had a habit of doing that when she had stuff she needed to get done.

  The trees that formed a beautiful arch over the path had grown far wilder since I’d last used the shortcut home, and the canopy had grown so thick that not even the slightest marker of a sunbeam shone through.

  “Silver lining…” I muttered to myself as I thought about how good the increased oxygen had been for the flora.

  That’s right about the time I felt something sharp poke me in the back, “Wallet, phone, canisters, now.”

  “… Doesn’t change the clouds.”

  GETTING MUGGED

  “Did you hear me? Put your crap in that pansy-ass bag of yours and put it on the ground.”

  I’d been the victim of attempted muggings in the past, a few times actually, but they’d always been in front of me.

  And I had a proper bionic leg.

  And more of a will to live.

  Point is, I was much less prepared for it on that particular day, though that didn’t mean I was about to roll over and let some tool bag with a knife take all my crap.

  “Are you deaf?”

  That’s when I got a bright idea.

  ‘Play deaf.’

  Now, I’d been deaf before, kind of. There was some kind of weird algae in the river when I was about twelve, and at one point I managed to get an infection so severe that I lost hearing for something like three months.

  Could’ve been more, could’ve been less, my memory of it isn’t perfect, but I do know that it was one of the weirdest times of my life.

  Anyway, I let the guy yell at me some more, until he decided to grab me by the shoulder and spun me around, which he quickly came to regret as I used my new leg to jab him hard in the gut, causing him to stumble just long enough for me to unclip my weapon.

  “You picked the wrong dude to rob.” I said as I held the two-foot long pipe and its attached crank, “Now, throw your knife on the ground.”

  My would-be mugger, a skinny, topless young guy wearing a firefighter’s mask that he’d duct taped around at the neck to seal it, stood stunned for a few moments, looking between my mask and weapon concernedly before letting out a laugh, “Ha! What you gonna do? Fix my plumbing?”

  “No, what I’m gonna do is turn this ‘ere crank,” I said, tapping it while doing my best not to sound too excited, “and, at a time unbeknownst to me or anyone else, something a whole lot worse than a clown is gonna shoot out the end of this pipe.”

  The obvious meth head’s eyebrow raised curiously as he thought on what I’d said and pulled up his stupidly baggy jeans, “Two clowns?”

  “I… uh…” I was thrown, justifiably so I think, but I wasn’t about to let him know that, “No, no, not two clowns.”

  “Three clow-”

  “It doesn’t shoot clowns!” I barked, the gasmask adding a slight vibration to my voice as it came out through the filtration unit.

  “But, like, what if a clown attacked you?” the mugger asked, again, throwing me off.

  “Wh-huh?”

  “Like, for instance, what if I was a clown? Would it shoot me?”

  Either he was high as a fucking kite, or he was deliberately trying to piss me off, whichever it was, they were both grounds for me to start slowly turning the crank.

  “I’m giving you this one chance to simply walk away,” I warned as the three metal nitrous oxide tubes I’d gotten from whipped cream bottles got dangerously close to puncturing, “or I’m gonna shoot you with this.”

  “…But are clowns gonn-”

  He didn’t get the chance to finish that thought as the ‘gun’ finally fired, shooting out its payload of tiny pieces of broken glass and shards of plastic into the mugger’s bare chest which, unsurprisingly, made him squeal like a bitch.

  “What the actual fuck!?” he shrieked as he tried to brush the plastic and glass of his skin, but instead either pushed them in deeper, got them stuck in his palms, or dusted them down the front of his, as previously mentioned, way too baggy pants.

  “Now, what are you gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna fuckin’ cut yo…” he trailed off once he saw I was, once again, turning the crank, before letting out a half-sob, half-sigh, and backing away, “I’m gonna go home and rethink how I make life decisions.”

  “That’s a boy.” I replied with a smile before clipping my gun back to its clip, “Hurry up, I don’t wanna turn around and get stabbed in the ass.”

  He complied, though begrudgingly as apparently I’d foiled his brilliant plan, and limped away, mumbling something about my ‘clown stick’ and leaving a small trail of blood behind him.

  “No muzzle flash, no murder,” I said to myself before turning around and continuing on home, “just good ol’ fashioned stopping power.”

  I was actually incredibly proud of that little invention of mine, it was really quite good at scaring people off, and the few times I had had to use it I’d left knowing that I hadn’t killed anyone, just hurt them a bit.

  And made one guy lose an eye.

  Shame it only had the one shot though.

  Anyway, five minutes later I let out a relieved breath as my house started to come into view, then I spotted a suspicious looking van parked just up the road from my driveway.

  Pre-dangerous oxygen levels, something like that wouldn’t surprise me, or even warrant a second thought, but considering the fact that there was maybe five people left in my neighborhood, including Hugo and I, it seemed unlikely that it was just a coincidence.

  Fearing the worst, I started moving toward my house as quickly as I possibly could, my gimpy new prosthetic slowing me down considerably and turning my speed walk into an uncoordinated hobble.

  The doors on the side of the van opened up.

  “Oh no.”

  Three detectives, one a small Hispanic woman with a bowling bag, another a tall Hawaiian guy built like a warrior demigod, and the other a short blond-haired guy who I just knew was a smart ass. None of which were wearing any sort of protection from the poisonous air, but all of them together formed the makings of a fresh new sitcom.

  “Oh no.”

  They started walking toward me, I was maybe twenty feet from my front door.

  “Ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno-mother fucker!” I yelped as, with barely ten feet left, my peg leg collapsed in on itself, causing me to fall face first onto the grass, “God-motherfucking-damn it.”

  “You’re damn right.” the female detective said smugly, “Hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

  “I… do not like where this is going.”

  FORCED DIVE

  “Time?” the blond guy growled as I was pushed through my front door onto the carpet.

  “Three minutes,” the bigger guy responded concernedly, “we’ve really gotta step this up.”

  “Well go get the damn router and hook it up then!”

  It was at that moment that I was pulled to my foot, the peg leg still not having descended, and saw that Hugo, with his Tom Hanks in Castaway-esque hair and beard, stood wearing nothing but a blue kimono.

  A really short kimono.

  A really short kimono that he hadn’t tied up.

  A really short kimono that, even it had been tied up, would hide his junk about as well
as a baseball cap on the Empire State Building.

  I was less than impressed.

  “Goddamn dude, how many times do I have to tell you? Underwear at least.”

  Hugo didn’t respond right away, instead opting to stare at the detective who, having just seen him, were staring right back, “New friends?” he asked, pointing at them with yet another one of my brownies.

  “What’s he doing here?” the woman snarled.

  “Oh, so you know Hugo?”

  “The guy who facilitated the Valley Rapture deal?” blondie asked bitterly, “Yeah, we know him.”

  “Well, that’s go…” Hugo started before looking at me shaking my head, “Bad, I mean bad. Wait… oh… Ooh! Shit.”

  “Should I arrest him?” the Hawaiian asked as he returned and plugged in my dusty router.

  “It can wait,” the woman said as she forced me to the couch, “as long as he puts that away.”

  Unsurprisingly, Hugo was confused by this for a moment before getting a look of realization about him, “Oh, I can tie it up if you want.”

  And with that, it was my turn to look confused, “Won’t that hurt?” I asked as the prosthetic finally popped back out with a hydraulic hissing sound.

  Hugo looked at me blankly for a few moments, an utterly bemused expression on his face, before finally following my gaze then shooting me a disgusted glare, “The kimono!”

  “Oh, that makes a lot mor-”

  “Why in the Hell would I tie up my dangus!? What would that achieve?”

  “What would tying up the kimono do!?”

  “Time’s a bit of a factor here!” blondie barked, “So, if you wouldn’t mind…”

  At first I didn’t realize he was speaking to me, but even when I did realize it I didn’t have an answer, “Uh… what?”

  “Oh my- get in the…”

  I think it was at that moment that the detectives realized that no one had bothered briefing me on why I’d been chased into my house.

  “Okay,” the woman said, after finally shutting my door, allowing me to remove my helmet without fear of death, “so, we know you were one of the idiots who smuggled a prototype of the Rapture device into Re.Gen.”

  “What?” came my high-pitched, obviously bullshit response, “There’s absolutely no way you ca-”

  “Can, have, shut up.” the woman snapped before dumping her bag at my feet, “In there you’ll find a fake passport, fifty million dollars in bearer bonds, and a burner phone so you can call whoever you need to once this is over.”

  I was confused to say the least, but I decided that it was probably in my best interests to hear them out.

  “Ninety seconds.” the Hawaiian guy let out with what sounded like genuine fear as he looked down at his watch.

  “Ugh, fuck it.” the woman growled, “You need to get in the game, now.”

  “What? Access is impossible, it’s all restricted now.”

  “It’s not impossible,” blondie said as he pushed me by the shoulder onto my back, “just really Goddamn hard.”

  “Your AI, Quinn, has been filled in,” the woman announced before unhooking my weapon and tossing it across the room, “but she probably won’t know it until she’s been booted up for a few seconds. Now, shut up and dive.”

  I wanted to scream, or fight, or something, anything but listen to what I was being told to do by the dicks in my house, and no, I’m not referring to the fact that they’re detectives.

  Couldn’t do it though, my logical brain forced me to listen to what I was being told to do, and made me close my eyes as I prepared to dive.

  “Sixty seconds.” the Hawaiian warned.

  “Have you dived?” blondie asked.

  “… Yes?”

  “That’s it, I’m knocking him out.”

  I don’t remember getting punched, I was far too busy forcing the dive, but my nose did hurt like all Hell on my way down into Re.Gen, the old feeling of slipping out of reality punctured by the fact that I’d taken the less pleasant route.

  My brain was awash with all the information and lack thereof as my stomach rolled and my head spun, what I didn’t know causing me far more discomfort than what little I did.

  One thing was for sure though, I was not looking forward to what came next.

  PUZZLING

  After the sickening dive was finished, I awoke on my back, looking up at red tiles, and immediately felt grateful for the fact that I wasn’t standing as I did my best to stop the world from spinning.

  I absolutely hated forcing a dive, but I was no fan of getting punched in the face either.

  “Eddie?” a voice I hadn’t heard in years chirped, “Eddie, is that you?”

  “Who else would it be?” I snapped after trying and failing to sit up.

  “No need to get snippy with me, I’ve been in stasis since… Oh my God!”

  “And which God would that be?” I asked with less annoyance than my last question, “I figured you’d be as far away from religious as one could get.”

  “I understand human sentiments,” Quinn bit back, losing most of the shock in her voice, “and I am positive a great deal of non-religious people use the phrase ‘Oh my God’.”

  She fell silent for a little while after that, leaving me to stare quietly at the tiled ceiling in the hopes that I’d somehow find the strength to sit up.

  “I… I can’t believe that that happened… And the aftermath… Have you really not been back since then?”

  “No one has,” I replied as politely as I could, realizing that everything was coming to her like a coma patient from 1998 being filled in on 9/11 with a tablet connected to high-speed Wi-Fi while she was forced to watch The Phantom Menace, “access has been restricted. I mean, there’ve been whispers that certain people were able to find backdoors, but I think that’s all a load of crap.”

  I finally found the strength to sit up and discovered I was wearing a white jumpsuit and was in a large room with three red, chair-sized boxes, a wall with some switches, and what I guessed were pressure pads for the boxes.

  There was also a large, clear wall at the end of the room, and behind it a strange green rip in space that looked to be about as big as me.

  “Where the Hell am I?”

  Quinn didn’t respond for a moment, clearly still working through some stuff, but she did eventually register my question, “Uh… I do believe you’re in a puzzle platformer. Wait… why is there a file from the SFPD Cyber Crime Division and the FBI in here?”

  I looked around confusedly for longer than I probably should’ve before realizing that she meant inside my head, “Oh, yeah, they said something about leaving that in there. What’s it say?” I asked before woozily getting to my feet.

  “They violated me!” Quinn shrieked, “They found me while I was sleeping and violated my internal memory. I’m not some common USB, you know? I have feelings, and those feelings get hurt when people put things inside me without my knowledge.”

  “Quinn, sweetie? I get that this is very distressing for you, but I need you to get over… this, and tell me what ‘s in the file.”

  She ignored me a while, muttering to herself about being disrespected, then let out an annoyed sigh, “Fine, give me a moment…”

  That had always confused me about AIs, even the less intelligent one I’d had before Quinn. They weren’t actually reading the file, they were processing the whole thing at once, so why did they act like they were reading over it?

  Eh, I guess it must’ve been one of those things to make us mere humans feel like we weren’t too slow.

  “Alright, so what I’m getting from this is that the man behind the first Rapture attack, who goes by ‘The Messiah’, has finished building his device.”

  “What do you mean ‘finished’?” I asked as I made my way over to one of the chest-high boxes and pushed it, measuring it at being around my weight.

  “He’s finished the prototype and now plans to use the device to purge the game.”

  “Wha
t, everyone?”

  “Mmhm, and it looks like he’s going to use those… portals.”

  I regarded the portal a moment, then raised my eyebrow, “How?”

  “Well he’s presently dug in like a tick in what has been labeled as the ‘Glitch World’. I know, it’s ridiculous to call it that when it’s basically just a dump folder, but apparently that’s where he's based himself.”

  I knew what she was talking about, it’s where things, and sometimes Code Jumpers, ended up when the game’s automated security system caught up. Due to the nature of the neural net, they couldn’t simply delete things from the game.

  “So, what? My job’s to close them or something?”

  “Nope,” Quinn said, pausing for a moment so I could look back over at the portal, “looks like you’ll be going through them, each one leading to a different part of Re.Gen until you finally end up in the Glitch World.”

  “What!? Why in the Hell would I do that?”

  “So you can get to Messiah and kill him.” Quinn replied matter-of-factly, “Closing the portals, even if we did know how, would take far too long.”

  That made sense, kind of, but I still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that I was ready to go game hopping in the hopes that I’d get to the terroristic dickhead.

  “And what if I don’t?”

  “Well, then another Rapture device goes off and a lot of people die.” Quinn hesitated before pressing on with a cold “You’d be allowing genocide.”

  She was right, painfully so, and to the point where I genuinely had nothing to say in response.

  “Alright, so what’s the plan then?”

  “Why are you asking me? It’s your job to figure it out.” Quinn replied, shirking any and all responsibility in a way that I thought she was incapable of.

  Now, it was only for a moment, but the thought to simply get myself caught by the security system did cross my mind, until I remembered that I’d probably get ripped limb from limb if I did that.

  “I s’pose we could start by going through that portal? See where it leads us and try and figure out where to go from there?”

 

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