by A W Wang
Vela rolls her eyes but stays silent, lost in her suspicions.
And she’s right to be.
Walt murmurs, “I’m just glad to be part of this team. This is a lot better than what I was used to.”
Suri warmly smiles. “It’s good you’re here with us. Right, Brin?”
I reply to their expectant stares by dipping my head. It’s not my place to tell everyone things will be okay. The next phase is barreling toward us and while nobody knows what will happen, I do know that only actions, not confident words, will get us through any dangers.
Avoiding further conversation, I turn to the last glows of sunlight outlining the snow-capped peaks and lift my gaze to the darkening blue dome, thinking of Nick and wishing to be with him in the real world.
I sigh.
That life is a long, long way away.
Fourteen
In my daydream, balloons float past my face as one of many falling streamers catches in my hair. When I brush it aside, a cloud of graying confetti spills over my summer dress.
The birthday celebration is not as colorful, loud, or detailed as it should be.
A fading caricature of my husband, wearing a blackened and decomposing paper hat, leans and delivers a huge kiss. Instead of having the flavor of cake and champagne and everything wonderful from my prior life, his mouth and tongue taste like polished stone.
As the whiskers of his budding goatee tickle my chin, I break away. With a smirk, I trace my finger over the offending hair.
A bashful smile crinkles his crumbling face. “I’ll get rid of it tomorrow.”
The scene deteriorates into swirling dust and piles of ash and then reality returns.
I’m seated in a plush chair near the orchestra pit inside the opera house. Overhead, elegant horseshoe balconies stack high into the dark recesses of the vast space, while in front of us, a motion picture flickers on a towering screen.
It’s the special event Haiku promised: “Movie Night.”
The G-rated entertainment keeps with the suppression of sex drive, and except for all the killing, the innocence of the virtual universe. My leftover sarcasm from the real world makes me smile.
Sitting on my left, Suri misinterprets the expression. “Do you like this?”
The animation features a princess, a villain, and a love interest. Although well-crafted, I’m sure I’ve seen dozens of movies involving the same plot. I just can’t remember any of them. “What’s not to like?”
“I love this activity—”
“Quiet,” interrupts Simon in his crotchety elder statesman voice. He’s terrified of what tomorrow will bring.
Suri flashes an apologetic expression and returns to the movie.
I roll my eyes.
Vela shifts in the seat to my right, subconsciously rubbing her fingers against her cheek. While I’m saddened by every memory I’ve watched disintegrate into nothingness, I’m sure she’s thrilled to be losing the memories of the assault that disfigured her.
The rest of the team sits either to the front or behind us, and without looking, I can sense Syd stealing glances at the back of my head.
Remembering the morning’s misadventures, I clench my jaw. The plain-faced man arrived for the special event in a joyous mood and not a whit wiser about my detective work.
If he was even in the building, and I wasn’t crazy imagining things.
Forcing away all thoughts of Syd, avatars, and malignant spaces beneath Home, I return to staring at the predictable movie, struggling to recollect other details from my real-world life.
I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, but the memory loss seems to be accelerating.
However, on occasion, a long-forgotten event emerges, which throws everything into confusion. And while I flail away, hunting for things in my fractured mind, the unknown looms in the morning.
On top of all the other issues.
As the crowd laughs at a joke, I blow out a breath of disgust.
Instead of fretting about what will happen, I’m mired in chaotic thought, trying to figure out what memories are gone and which are going, as well as trying to answer unfathomable riddles about the Ten Sigma Program.
None of which matters.
After a sigh, I focus on what the next phase might bring.
Besides dying, I’m hoping not to be gruesomely killing anyone else, because my lack of remorse continues to be a sore topic with my conscience.
Sinking into my seat, I close my eyes, trying to imagine what else could go wrong.
By the time the end credits roll, I’ve reconciled my myriad of competing worries into a single feeling of dread.
As I tap Suri to leave, a tear trickles down her cheek.
“I used to see these movies with my grandchildren,” she explains.
“Do you want me to stay?”
She shakes her head. “No, I need to be alone with my memories while I still have them.”
Respecting the request, I stand and skirt my way around slow-moving people, mercifully getting to the exit without suffering any interaction with Syd.
Outside, on the smooth marble of the grand lobby, the team disperses with even Sergeant Rick understanding everyone’s need for alone time before the big day.
Unhappy with the continuing glances at my figure, and more disappointed in not having any special gift or superpower for my troubles, I decide to clear my conscience and head away from the crowd that’s returning to the barracks.
As I trudge into the fun district, the up-lighting casts an unusual magnificence on the impossible structures while the rubbery material of the path seems more springy than usual. Although the stars of the computer-generated night sky have no familiar patterns, the view is pleasing, and coupled with a pleasant breeze laden with citrus scents, my head clears and my mood improves.
Regardless of its flaws, living in the virtual world is better than the nausea and frailty of the sickness.
I pause. Those memories have faded as well.
With lighter steps, I wander until I spy the cultural museum, the place most suiting my personality in this universe. Given the rah-rah team building, my impromptu detective work, and the final night’s entertainment, I haven’t had the chance to visit.
Happy with the empty surroundings, I march past a tall row of conical ferns to the elegant building. Amazed by the thought and detail put into the construction, I trail my fingers over differing shades of red bricks, each littered with unique imperfections. At an iron-barred window framed by wood panels carved with twigs and butterflies, I stop to appreciate a neoclassical sculpture of a Greek king. From what I can view, the other statues in the hall are exquisite too.
I putter out a breath and make a note to return on my next free day. The museum’s tasteful-yet-antiquated feel brings back memories of the cottage I shared with my husband.
When I step away from the window, my skin prickles.
Wonderful.
The phrase “No Upside,” enters my mind as I face Syd.
He says, “Please, can we speak for a moment in private?”
Although he stands in a passive posture and has been on his best behavior, I flat out don’t trust the man. However, given the upcoming scenarios, I don’t want to get on his vindictive side either.
“Okay,” I say as a heavy sigh.
He smiles and leads me to the entrance where we pass under a raised portcullis and through wooden doors with thick glass panes. In the lovingly detailed foyer, a single light floating in a wrought iron cage casts a dappled pattern on the oiled wood paneling and water-cut stone floor.
Impatient to start and finish the conversation, I stop him at the arch of the main hallway. “What?”
His eyes wander to the exhibits. “This is a beautiful place. I can see why you like it.”
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask louder and more annoyed.
A pleasant countenance falls over his face, and I prepare for the gentleman persona.
He doesn’t disappoi
nt, saying in his most charming voice, “For some reason, we got off on the wrong foot. But, I’m not a horrible person. I wish to apologize for anything I’ve done.”
Although the statement is pleasant enough, I rub my nape. He’s blocking the exit when all I want to do is leave. “Tomorrow will be a long day. Get to the point.”
Unhappy with the results of the opening salvo, his eyes lose focus as he searches for another tack. He blurts, “I think you’re special, and we would be a great team.”
“We are part of a great team.”
“I’m being serious. We should form a pact to watch out for each other.” He pauses when I arch an eyebrow. “You were correct, I have been looking at you this entire time, but it’s mostly not from any attraction. It’s because you’re going to do exceedingly well in the trials. As will I.”
I laugh, remembering the witch’s words. “Why would any of us be special? You never told anyone about your past, and I’m not sure who you’ve conned, but it won’t happen with me.”
“I am not a conman,” he says with indignation. “Your battle awareness is unique. You anticipate things.”
“So what?”
“While everyone has the same threads, the others aren’t like you and me. They’re slow and inefficient. You’ve practiced with them. You know this.”
“They’ll catch up.”
“Stop,” he says, holding up his hand. “You and I are fully integrated with the threads, and we instinctively understand what to do and do it well. The others need to think about what the best action is and have irregularities in their execution. Even if their indecision only lasts for a millisecond or their movements are off by a millimeter, it’s plenty.”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m not allowed to say, but it’s called a thread optimization issue.”
I want to throttle him, all the stupid avatars, and the stupid secrecy surrounding everything. However, the empirical evidence backs up his statement. Both of us, for whatever reason, are far better than anyone on the team even if I haven’t received any special power.
But that doesn’t mean I should form a pact with someone who is revolting. “Unless you know something more, you haven’t convinced me of anything.”
He steps to the front door and peers at the sky. When he returns, he speaks in a hushed tone. “This world isn’t what it seems.”
That gets my undivided attention. “Oh? In what way?”
“I can’t say.”
My hands move to grab him, but since we are basically naked, I settle for letting them form fists between us. “You need to do better than that.”
“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“Is that what the leprechaun told you?”
His thin lips curl. “You’re stalking me. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. I don’t trust you.”
“What if I can change something?”
“You think you’re a virtual god?” I say with a chuckle.
“No, nothing like that.” He rubs his plain chin. “Small changes.”
Hating myself, I fall into the trap. “Like?”
“I can nullify the libido inhibitors.”
“Sex?”
“Yes, watch.”
While I’m ambivalent about sex as Suri’s way to overcome the control of the overlords, thoughts of sex combined with Syd are more unappealing than anything I can imagine. “Why don’t you try something else?”
“Just watch.”
Instead of fleeing to the farthest reaches of Home, I stand like an idiot as he closes his eyes in concentration. When his cheeks puff from the effort, he looks a second from exploding into little body parts.
One can only hope…
A triumphant smile crosses his face as he opens his eyes. “There, it’s done.”
“What?”
“I’ve become sexually aroused.”
My eyes betray me by glancing at the slight bulge in his sheer underwear. “It’s the same.”
“No, it’s harder. Put your hand there and touch it.”
“Seriously?”
“This was a lot of work. Just reach inside my underwear and you’ll see.”
I retreat a couple of steps, tightening my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Are you insane?”
His voice rises. “You think I’ve set this up as an elaborate ruse to get you to fondle me?”
That’s exactly what I believe. “I am not touching you anywhere or getting into any kind of partnership. My husband was my partner and you’re not replacing him.”
“He’s gone from your life. Like everything else prior to your download!”
My frustrations boil past my common sense. “Before this, I couldn’t even hurt a fly. Now, I can’t even feel guilty about killing all of those people on that stupid platform. I’m staying loyal to my husband because it’s my last bond to humanity.”
Even with Syd acting as my confessor, it feels good to finally enunciate my worst fears.
“To survive, you’ll do a lot worse,” he retorts. “Get over yourself. What you’re really afraid of is that you’ll grow to enjoy the killing.”
My fists shake. “I am not a sadist. You make my skin crawl. If you were the last person on Earth and every last virtual world, I wouldn’t form a partnership with you.”
As I brush past him to leave, he grabs my wrist.
The training of the threads kicks in and I twist my arm from his hand and snap the flat of my elbow into his jaw.
He rocks to the side but doesn’t fall. The features of his plain face flare with anger as his fingers curl to strike.
I wait in a defensive posture while his eyes waver as he fights some internal war.
Instead of doing anything provocative, he faces his palms toward me. “This isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.” Although his tone is level, his eyes rage.
“Because you’re part of the team, I’ll fight with you. Other than that, stay the hell away from me.”
“I’m getting out of here and into the actual world. I’ll do whatever I need to do, and nobody will stop me. In the end, you’ll see I’m right.”
His surety cancels out my anger, and my stomach churns. “I’m not abandoning my friends.”
“You’ll see, Brin. I’ll look forward to the day when you come and accept my offer. That’s the only way you’ll survive what comes next.”
Somehow, he knows what tomorrow will bring.
A chill rushes over me as I turn and hustle into the night.
Fifteen
My return to the barracks meets with no further incident, but after I crawl into my bunk, my mind whirls in anxiety. I absolutely detest Syd, but a sliver of me knows his words carried some truth.
When the soft glow of dawn creeps over my bed and heralds the arrival of the pivotal day, I haven’t slept a wink.
However, small discomforts don’t matter to Sergeant Rick, who decides we need sunrise calisthenics.
With bleary eyes and barely functioning limbs, I trudge through the workout, trying to determine who I hate more, Syd the Lewd One or Sergeant Rick the Make Work Jerk.
After nothing happens in the morning, we journey to the cafeteria for brunch. The highlight of my meal is imagining the blue liquid tasting like a million cups of coffee. The cynic inside me applauds when the placebo effect lasts for the whole of seven seconds.
During the entire time, Syd stays cordial, sipping with a blissful stare of stupidity as if nothing happened in the museum.
On Sergeant Rick’s direction, we spend midday and the late afternoon performing more calisthenics we don’t need and target practice we need even less. Despite my lack of rest and anxieties, I finish first in the sharpshooting contest. An astounded Sergeant Rick rewards me with a “Nobody Likes a Showoff” speech.
I don’t want to believe it, but perhaps Syd’s words about thread integration carry a little weight.
By the time the sun scrapes against the tops of the mountains, I’m a
ntsy with anticipation.
Fortunately, the wait isn’t long, and as the last rays of light disappear, static wraps over my body and we’re back sitting in the group room. It might be my imagination, but the glow of the elementary shapes appears muted, even somber.
The air pops, and a beaming Haiku materializes in the center of the semicircle.
“Welcome! Are you eager for your first scenario?”
Subdued stares and tightened lips meet her cheerfulness. The only movements come from Walt tapping his toes and Carol twirling her hair.
I chew on my thumbnail while the moment stretches.
Sergeant Rick announces, “We’re ready.”
“That is indeed wonderful,” Haiku says. “Now, here are the details of the next phase of the Ten Sigma Program.”
People shift into attentive postures with sharp intakes of breath.
“You will be placed in a series of scenarios. Every scenario contains its own virtual environment, generally representing something in the real world. It can be jungle, desert, arctic, mountain, ocean, or anything else you can imagine on Earth. Scenarios begin with a specific mission, which can be defending or attacking or a specified task or some mixture of them. Additionally, other parameters will be presented on a case-by-case basis. This can include a command structure and boundaries.”
“Will you be coming with us?” Walt asks nervously.
“None of the guides may enter a scenario. Rules are rules and cannot be broken,” Haiku replies.
“Can you tell us more about this upcoming scenario?” Rick asks.
“Only that the forces will always be roughly in parity in addition to the strengths and skills of the individuals.”
An image of the bald giant crashes into my mind. I take short breaths as tightness constricts my chest. What’s she talking about? He wasn’t like everyone else. I’m not sure how I survived the hammering at the end of the first battle, and I’m still terrified of meeting him again.
My hand quivers but otherwise doesn’t respond when I try to raise it to ask about his existence.
Haiku takes on a serious countenance. The focused eyes, taut cheeks, and tight lips look wrong on her face. “This is important. Your bodies react as they would in the real world. You need air to survive and if you are shot or stabbed or punched, the injuries will be the same. However, no matter how terrible, any and all wounds shall be healed upon completion of the scenario. But…” She pauses, sweeping a glance over the team. “If you perish, you shall be expunged from the system.”
