by Deck Davis
Chapter One
When Nathan opened his eyes, he saw nothing. Or maybe not nothing, exactly, but instead a white light that filled all his vision. Like gazing into the beam of a torch without blinking. He took a step back and realized that he was staring at a white wall.
He turned around. He was in a small room. The walls were white, as were the floors and ceiling. There was a sterile feel to the place that reminded him of a hospital waiting room. In the centre, there was a brown wooden table. A plate was on it, and resting on the plate was a burger. He sniffed the air, and he smelled the delicious odour of the meat. It teased into his nostrils, and he felt his stomach tighten with hunger.
When did he last eat? More importantly, where was he? He didn’t remember walking into the room. He couldn’t have been asleep, because when he opened his eyes, he had been stood up. Sure, the other guys in the barracks used to say he was such a heavy sleeper that he’d snore through a nuke. He got into trouble a couple of times in basic for missing roll call. But he’d never snoozed on his feet before.
He looked around. Had he done something wrong? Had the military police put him in solitary? Doubtful – he took his duties seriously. He’d never do anything to warrant a punishment like that. In some ways that made it worse. At least if he was in solitary, he’d have a clue what was going on.
The smell of the burger hit him again, and he felt pain in his stomach. He realized he was hungrier than he’d ever been in his life. Looking at the burger made his mouth water, and the feeling overpowered his confusion.
He walked over to the table. His footsteps were the only sound in the room. He leant on the table surface and breathed in the aroma of the burger. He smelled not just the meat, but onions. And ketchup. Possibly a gherkin, but he’d pick that off. Yeah, he was in the 50% of people who couldn’t stand the things. The juicy meat bulged out of the side of the bun. Plump, grilled. Heaven.
For a second he thought the food might not be real. That he was dreaming. And he realized that if he was dreaming, that meant it was a lucid dream. He’d heard about those – apparently, if you realized you were in a lucid dream, it was a ball. You could do anything you wanted. Become a bear tamer. Become a bear. Fly like a bird.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s have some fun.”
He stared at the white floor to his left and tried to imagine the room changing. He tried to change it into the Heaton Owls soccer stadium. He’d always wanted to go there when it was empty and have a game. As hard as he concentrated, the room wouldn’t change.
“Maybe I better start small. Give me a shake to go with the burger.”
What were the controls here exactly? He tried to imagine a vanilla milkshake appearing on the table, but nothing happened. His mouth watered again. Shrugging, he picked up the burger. He opened his mouth in anticipation of the glorious meat, when he heard a sound.
Banging. A fist pounding on metal.
It sounded like it was coming from his right. He looked and saw that there was a metal hatch in the centre of the wall. It looked like the kind they use in prisons so that things can be passed to an inmate without any danger to the guard. He was sure it hadn’t been there before.
“Hello?” he said.
He waited, but there was no response. He walked over to the hatch and opened it, but it was empty. What did this mean? If this was a lucid dream, it sucked. But then, if it was his dream, he only had himself to blame. He’d never been the most creative of people. He was more of a practical kind of guy. He loved running, climbing, woodwork, shooting, those kinds of things.
There was more banging. Louder this time, like it came from the other side of the wall. Then he heard a voice.
“Food. Please,” said a man. “I’m starving.”
Nathan stepped back in surprise. He recognized that voice. How could he not? It was burned deep into his memory, a voice that made him tense up.
“Please. I can smell it. They haven’t fed me in days.”
It was the voice of Terry Currow, a guy who was an ass to him back in high school. He didn’t know what the hell Terry was doing here, but hearing his voice a decade later made him curl his hands into fists. It brought back memories of Terry taking every opportunity to try and humiliate him.
This guy had been a living nightmare for Nathan back in school. He was smarter than him, and by God did he know it. One time, he made Nathan look stupid by getting hold of his math test result where he got an ‘E’ grade, and making photocopies. The joke was on him though – Nathan requested a re-sit, studied his ass off, and turned it into a ‘B.’
“Please. I can smell the food. They haven’t fed me in days.”
He didn’t know what Terry was doing here, but he didn’t care. He turned away from the hatch. No way in hell was he putting his burger in there. If Terry was hungry, then tough luck. Maybe Nathan would take a photograph of the burger, have it copied and post it through the hatch.
He picked up the burger and went to take a bite.
“Please, Nathan. They’re going to starve me to death. Just a little bite. I’m begging you.”
Nathan stopped. He put the burger down, and sighed. Damn it. Terry’s voice was so pathetic that he couldn’t just ignore him. Instead, cursing himself for always wanting to be the bigger man, he tore it in half. He walked over to the metal hatch. It made a whining sound as he opened it. He dropped half the burger into the hatch, then closed it, sending it to the other side.
“Eat it slowly,” he said. “If you haven’t eaten in a while, it’ll make you sick if you pig out.”
Nathan’s stomach tightened even more. He felt faint. No more distractions now – he needed to fill his belly. He went back over to the table, picked up the remaining half of the burger. He raised it up, savoring the aroma. He was about to take a bite, when he heard footsteps.
“Damn it, Terry, what now?” he said.
But the footsteps were in his own room. And then someone spoke.
“You don’t need that, Nathan.”
It was a woman’s voice, and she was behind him. He didn’t turn to face her; the draw of food was too much.
“And why not?” he asked.
“Because you’re dead.”
In an instant, the burger vanished, leaving his hands in front of him holding nothing. To his right, the hatch was gone, and instead there was just a white wall.
He turned to the voice and saw a woman. Six-foot-tall, hair cut short into a bob. She wore glasses and high heels, and she had on a lab coat. She reminded him of a woman he’d met when he was stationed in Germany for 6 months. He’d seen her every fortnight in a library he used to go to in Cologne when he had day leave. He’d always thought about asking her out, but there was no point. The military moved him around so much he didn’t want to form attachments.
“What happened to the burger?” he asked.
“The food was a test,” she said. “Do you know where you are?”
“The worst fast food joint ever.”
She gave a polite laugh. “I’m Dina-Teur,” she said. “Pleased to meet you.”
A sofa suddenly appeared next to the woman. Black, leather, cold-looking. She settled into it and crossed her legs. She beckoned Nathan over to the seat next to her.
As Nathan went to join her, he suddenly stopped. A memory jolted him. He knew this room. He looked around him – white, bare walls. A sterile feel to it. Of course he knew it – why hadn’t he thought of it before? He’d seen it years ago, back in basic training before his first tour of duty.
Cold ice crept over his chest as he worked out where he was. This room – it could only mean one thing. The
woman clearly wasn’t joking; he was dead.
He stumbled back. He looked from side to side, as if there’d be an exit. Nope. Just walls. Yep, he knew the room alright. His death was a surety. He thought the realization would feel worse than this, but he guessed that he’d been prepared for it. Not now, but in general. Life in the army was sometimes one long mental preparation for the inevitable.
So how did it happen? When did he last upload his consciousness? He tried to think, but his memories were locked away somewhere. He reached out and tried to find fragments, but there was nothing.
He looked at Dina. She was waiting patiently, as if she was used to seeing the mental struggle of the recently deceased. It struck him that she was the type of person who wasn’t fazed by anything.
“Is this Adonis Reborn?” he said.
“Not quite.” Her accent was hard to place. It was almost British, but with a Texan twang on some of her words.
He must have been in Adonis – where else would he go after death? The fully-immersive VR game was the only place a mind could go after the body dropped off its mortal coil. Not everyone could go, though. Passes into Adonis would have emptied the wallets of even the richest people.
The only reason Nathan got a pass was due to his army service. With recruit numbers dropping, the government promised Adonis Rebirth entry to anyone who joined the Army for a 4-year term. After his first tour, Nathan decided that the army was the place for him, and he’d signed up for another 4 years. For him to be here now, though, something must have gone badly wrong.
He felt a question burning in him. Words that he felt had had to say. He blurted them out.
“How did I die?” he asked.
Dina didn’t even flinch at the question. It was like she’d heard it a thousand times. “You were given a soldier’s funeral, Nathan. It was beautiful. A hero’s funeral.”
“I doubt many people were there,” he said.
Nathan didn’t have any family. His parents died when he was six. After that, he and his little brother, Dec, lived with a selection of foster families. None of them really cared about the two boys though. When he was 18, he moved out. He became the legal guardian of Dec, and they lived together in a pokey apartment. Nathan took a job to pay the bills, and they were happy for a while. Just a guy and his brother getting by.
And then, one day, Dec had been walking down the pavement with his headphones on. A guy driving a car had swerved to avoid a dog in the road. He’d driven onto the pavement, straight toward Dec. Didn’t even give him a damn second of warning before he…
No. Better not to think about that. He’d brooded on Dec’s death for so long, that he couldn’t stomach much more of it.
“On the contrary,” said Dina. “More people attended than you’d expect. You died a hero, Nathan. You…I’ve said more than I should, for now.”
She patted the space on the sofa next to her. Rather than join her, Nathan stepped back and perched on the edge of the table. He realized that his hunger was gone. Instead, he felt nothing. Kind of how he’d expect a dead person to feel.
“So, what now?” he said. He just wanted out of the room.
Dina stood up. She clicked her fingers, and a tablet appeared in her hand. She swiped on it a few times, then crossed the room and handed it to Nathan.
He took it from her. On the screen was the logo for Adonis Rebirth. It was well-muscled, half-naked man shooting an arrow into the sun. Below it, there was a button marked ‘begin.’
“We need you to complete a psyche test,” she said. “Nothing strenuous – just a few questions to see how you’re holding up.”
“Sure. But first, what happened to me? I’m not sure about etiquette for the dead, but explaining their death has to be up there.”
She spoke softly. “Please complete the test, Nathan.”
It was obvious he wouldn’t get any answers until he did what she asked, so he clicked ‘begin.’ For the next few minutes, he answered all the questions on the touch pad.
It was a series of statements, with sliders that he had to move. Statements were listed such as “I often struggle to control angry thoughts.” There was a slider underneath each one. On one end was ‘Disagree,’ and on the other was ‘Agree.’ It was basic psychological stuff. There were 50 questions, each of them intended to burrow deeper and deeper into his psyche. It didn’t bother him much – there was nothing in his mind that he wanted to hide.
When he finished, he handed it back to her.
“While we wait for the results,” said Dina, “let me tell you a little about the game. You understand, I hope, that you will pass now into Adonis Rebirth.”
He nodded. “I got that.”
“Well, would you like the blunt truth, or do you want a little sugar on it?” she asked.
He smiled. Despite the situation, there was something about her that he liked. “Soften it up a little for me.”
“Your body is dead, Nathan.”
“What happened to the sugar?”
“Sorry, but I believe in harsh truths. Your mind, as of your last upload, will transfer into Adonis.”
When was his last upload? He tried to remember, but his mind was blank. It was like the memories were there, but were locked away so that he couldn’t see them.
He knew it was standard practice to upload before going on patrol or before combat missions. It was simple– he stuck a sensor cable into a port on his wrist, and then slipped into a pre-designed dream while his mind downloaded. He’d done it hundreds of times. He just couldn’t remember when the last time was.
Dina continued. “Once you enter Adonis, you will begin in Janess, the starter village. It’s a small place, but adequate to get you used to the game world before you start questing. The circumstances surrounding your…current situation…and your actions have warranted you an upgrade.”
“My actions?”
“Before your death. But as I said, I can’t elaborate yet. On your map will be a marker shaped like a house. This is yours. And you should be happy; not everyone starts in Adonis already owning property. There will also be a provision of weapons, armor, and money.”
“I don’t get it. What did I do? You said I got a hero’s funeral. What happened?”
The touchpad buzzed in her hand. She lifted it to her face and studied it. After a few seconds, she frowned. She looked at Nathan.
“Are those the results?” he asked.
“It’s time for you to enter Adonis.”
She turned her back to him. A door appeared in front of her. As she walked toward it, Nathan called out.
“Wait. You’re supposed to tell me how I died.”
She looked at the touchpad again, and shook her head. “It’s time to forget your old life, and focus on your new one. This is your rebirth.”
“A guy’s death is pretty personal to him. Kinda hard to forget.”
“I’m sorry, Nathan. There are rules.”
He had a burning need to see it. It was like it was the most important thing in the world. When people had accidents and woke up in the hospital, their first question was always, “What happened?” This was no minor accident; he was dead. And there had to be a way to show it to him.
“Wait. Our combat helmets, they have cameras. Surely it recorded what happened?”
She held up the touchpad. “I’m sorry, Nathan. Truly, I am. Your results indicate that you won’t be able to handle seeing your death. The circumstances are too graphic.”
After a few seconds, she spoke again. “It’s time,” she said.
She walked over to the door. She twisted the handle and then pulled it open. Beyond the door there wasn’t another room. Instead, there was a shimmering blue light that filled the doorframe. It looked like how he imagined the middle of a flash of lightning to be.
The woman gestured to it. “You need to step through,” she said.
“If I ask nicely, will you at least give me a little bit of a clue what happened to me?”
“No. What
’s more important is that you get a second chance.”
There was nothing for it. He knew she wouldn’t tell him now, no matter what he said or did. It was best that he got himself together. Maybe in Adonis, his memories would come back to him. And it could be worse – most people didn’t get a second chance at life. It might have been a simulation, but it was still another roll of the dice. He knew how immersive Adonis was supposed to be. How real. This could be good.
This was his Rebirth, and it was time to take it. Despite everything, he was surprised to realise that he felt excited.
“So, I start in Janess?” he said.
She nodded. “What you do from there is up to you, Nathan. Find allies, do quests. There’s no limit. Unless, of course, you don’t want your second chance?”
