“Choose from who?”
“The other Voices, of course,” James said.
“As long as I get to pick, then.” I shrugged.
“Of course. Why? Who do you think I would choose for you?”
“That Jester would be a good way to get a rise out of me.”
There was a clap of light and thunder as the Jester spun into the room. He swung the Temptress around, looking more sinister with each passing whirl.
“I’ll have you know”—he, she, it, I didn’t know, the Jester was certainly leading while it spoke in a nearly clacked tone. The Temptress actually looked a mite uncomfortable—“I dance quite divinely.”
They spun around in a twirl of classical music toward the other door.
During the last moment, before they vanished into a wall, I could see the Temptress smile and lick one elongated tooth. Her following wink was the last image in my head for a few moments as they popped out.
“So strange,” I said.
“Very little is private here. Once you’re down on the world, it’s harder for us to keep track, like hiding a fish in the ocean. Here though, you’re the only light for miles.”
“No others with an Ultimate Edition right now?” I clenched my eyes and tried to remember that James didn’t view the game system in the same manner I did.
“There have been others—many—but rarely are any two the same. And there have been less and less as time goes on.” He kept talking while I returned to eyeing the landscape. These random Voice characters popping up confused me.
“Oh right. That makes sense.”
“So who would you choose?” he asked with an eyebrow partway up in question.
“Out of anyone from the book?” I asked.
Near the start of the room, where we still stood, was the pillar and bound book. It lay open and waiting to be flipped through.
“Of course. Any of the Voices. Whatever strikes your fancy.”
I opted out of the Centaur. He might trip on his manhood; plus there was the question of who leads or how to swing a horse’s ass around. That gave me only female options since I hadn’t practiced following in any pair dance.
One page after the other turned. The faces showed up in the distance. Some waved, others glared, even more did nothing. Some refused to show up at all, which was interesting. Maybe my actions offended some.
Finally, I picked someone a little bit outside my comfort zone. This might remove the haunted look on the Voice’s face. I stopped at the plump woman who still cradled a baby.
“Would you like to dance?” I asked.
“Tut. What nonsense is this? I didn’t ask for this. Go away.” Her head shook back and forth. Small children faded into being around her, then vanished moments later.
“Trust me. I could tell you needed a break, even if only for a moment.”
“How would you know anything of raising a child? I can see you’ve never had a kid of your own. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.” Her head shook again. Her hair was tied back with a long faded scarf and both legs bent a little oddly.
“I have family. I have a sister, and I know the look in your eyes as well as I know hers,” I said. The look was one of pure exhaustion and an existence that only kept going because that was all the mind knew to do.
“For one song, we’ll dance. Come on.”
I held out a hand and waited. This was so much easier with the program in my other room. She never argued and was lighter by far. My mind was already whirling through the few dances I knew to find something comfortable. And she didn’t look the sort to find comfort in much.
“Who will watch this babe then?”
“James, can you hold a baby for a while?” It was his turn to answer a question, I believed. It was hard to keep track—so much of what we said was as natural as conversation. It didn’t feel like an interrogation at all. Perhaps it would to another person, a more suspicious one, or one who wasn’t used to baring bits of his soul at a time.
“I’m not comfortable with children,” he nearly sputtered. Clearly my choice had been a surprise.
“Anyone out there who can hold this little one?” I knew some of the other Voices had to be watching. They always seemed to pipe in when it was unwanted.
“We’ll watch him, Mister Grant Legate,” a child’s voice came from nearby.
I turned and saw the same young girl who had held a book. She had been reading alone in a library. Her hand was being held by the angelic one with a faraway gaze.
“Is that all right, miss?”
“Maud. Call me Maud,” she said.
“Maud then, would you entrust the little one to these ladies for the course of a song?” I asked while gesturing to the two others.
Maud barely nodded before the girl took the babe away.
“I don’t know how to dance.” Maud had a slight accent, and her skin tone hinted at another ethnicity. Were those cloven feet? It was hard to tell from under the large wash-maid’s dress.
“I wasn’t born knowing how to dance, I don’t think anyone is. I could teach you if you want,” I said. This was too fun. Could I even act this friendly with real people? It was more likely I was able to be so friendly because I knew they were computer-generated artificial intelligence.
“Yes, please.”
“Put your hands up for a moment.” I remembered how the dance program had walked me through all the beginner motions. There was a walkthrough for so many dances, each with ranks and difficulties. They had shown me how to lead, how to help someone else, and so much more.
It was my only real skill—well, perhaps along with talking to people. I could dance my way to supremacy! All hail the dancing meatbag! Please don’t turn me into sludge, future robot overlords. It would be just my luck that this woman would have a brawn of one million and squish my frail virtual form.
“Ain’t funny to laugh.”
“I’m not laughing at you, Maud. I’m laughing at my own terrible thoughts.”
She flushed red for a moment, looking all too human, far more than I expected. It made me laugh again.
“Nothing so crass.” How often did I get to use the word crass? Twice now! It was exciting. “This seems very unreal to me.”
“Well, it’s a bit too real to me.” She huffed but kept right on going along with our setup.
I placed her hands in comfortable positions—nothing intimate—professional and courteous.
“James!” I yelled behind us.
“Grant Legate.”
Okay, the name thing was going to get old really fast.
“Can you get the music for a box step from my dance program?”
“Certainly,” James said.
“All right, Maud, the box step is one of the easiest to learn, but it can still take time if you’re not used to it. Step with me like we’re dancing a square. The music is our timing.”
“I’m not sure about this, Mister Grant Legate.”
I managed to keep from getting irked at my name being said so many times.
“We’ll take it one step at a time. Slowly now.”
And so we went. Our path ventured back and to the side, forth and to the side again. On and on. I commented on her hand placement, took strides with her. She was a heavier woman, but it didn’t mean much in the face of myself, a man who had let himself go. If anything, we were almost matched.
Once upon a time, I had been in shape but couldn’t dance. That was years ago. Now I was a man who wasn’t in shape because I had no one to do so for, and I danced with a pale imitation of the past to prove I was able to learn. I felt sad for a moment, from another bout of mood swings, but still danced.
Maud didn’t carry herself with a clever air, but she wasn’t stupid either. Once I fell silent, so did she. Instead, Maud worked extra hard not to step wrong as she had at the start. By the end of our third song—two more than expected—she had the basic moves down very well. We broke, and I clapped and bowed.
“Well done, Lady M
aud.” I could get used to this role-playing thing and the freedom of saying what came to mind instead of worrying about anyone’s impressions. I’d honestly enjoyed myself.
Event!
Dancing With a Voice
Tasked with performing a dance for the Voices, you chose an unlikely candidate as your partner. Maud, Voice for Orphans and Separated Families, took you up on your offer. She even let someone take care of her latest charge for the course of two extra dances.
Due to your demonstrated skill, Maud has learned [Dance] – Beginner (2) and has had a slight personality change. Once a month, Maud will descend from the heavens to enjoy a night on the town! On those nights, her statues will have a joyous smile.
Those lucky enough to see Maud dancing will enjoy the following bonuses:
+1 [Divine Attention]
+3 [Limberness]
Those who actually dance with Maud will enjoy additional bonuses:
+3 [Divine Attention]
+2 [Respect]
Other bonuses may apply depending on personal abilities unlocked.
“Heh.” I laughed and shook my head. These quest texts were too quick and funny. How on earth had they programmed something to line all that up so fast? I guess that meant Maud had enjoyed herself as well. Once our dance was done, she ran over to pick up her child. Her face was flushed as Maud vanished into whatever version of virtual reality housed the Voices.
“Good enough, James?”
“Do you feel like you did a good job?” he circumvented my question with one of his own. This computer really stuck to the rules.
“It was fun.” A smile crossed my lips and a laugh escaped. My belly jiggled. Poor Maud. Being stuck with me as a dance partner must have been disgusting. Maybe one of these events was a shower or swim at the beach.
“What’s next?”
“What do you want?”
Maybe I was behind on my answers, or maybe James was being pushy.
“I’ll give you the answer, but you’ll need to understand where I’m coming from for it to make sense.” Dancing was easy. I felt like James was going easy on me though.
“Did you get a chance to review my information?”
He was a computer program. James probably had had a chance to study an entire library of knowledge in the span of one dance.
“Yes, I did, Grant Legate.”
I bit my lip for a moment and tried not to put too much thought into my next words.
“You may have seen that I’ve had a rough few years.”
“Indeed.” James was dry in his response.
“Then you might understand that all I want is to keep myself busy and distracted,” I said.
“Why?” James never tired of his endless questions.
“It’s my turn for a question, James. I think.”
“Very well.” He nodded in agreement.
“You’re kind of a half-shrink god, Voice thing. What do you think is the most distracting thing I could do?” I closed my eyes briefly and tried not to put too much hope into the question.
“You should already know the answer to that question. The most distracting thing in life is simply living with all you’ve got. This is true in both worlds.”
“Right. One foot after the other, forward march. Forward but never backward.” I tried not to feel hurt. Of course a computer program wouldn’t have a better answer than any other source. That left me with the happy mask and baring my soul like answering didn’t hurt.
James hummed and chose not to ask his question again. Instead he said, “What would you like to do next, Grant Legate?”
“I don’t have any good ideas, James. Distract me. Please.”
“Very well,” he said.
The room about us changed once more.
Session Six — Feasts and Other Nonsense
Event!
King’s Taste Tester
A food tester! You were asked to sample the king’s food for poisons and that you did. A little here, a bit there, and perhaps a tad too much of the lamb if truth was to be told. With a keen sense of smell you detected that some items were tainted. Discolored ones too were removed from the king’s potential feast. However many skipped by your nose.
When it came to the actual tasting, you found a truly deadly poison and nearly died. Of course, there were all those others you missed. This kingdom was due for a change in regime anyway.
Royalty may recognize you as a man who has sacrificed for his country.
Knights and guards may recognize you as the man who let a King die.
Near death has reduced your endurance for the next few days.
I frowned at the latest entry. At least it had gone better than the needle-in-a-haystack test. Or Trial, as James called it. Five down, five to go. At this rate, I would start playing the game on par with first graders. We could totally duke it out over ownership of the little dragon thing, which was still flying around.
Turned out the little dragon was male and his official race was [Messenger’s Pet]. The game even put the text with brackets around it to make his race stand out from everything else. I figured out more about the dragon after this latest event by using an [Identification] skill.
Skill Learned: [Identification]
Type: Basic
Specialties: Unknown
Details: Focusing upon a target can reveal additional details. Response speed and details will develop further as this skill increases.
System Help! Basic versions of skills provide no extra bonuses. Many skills contain specialties that may become available. This is dependent upon Path unlocks or repeated usage in specific conditions.
The system seemed to put brackets around all text regarding races, places, or skills. This newest skill wasn’t high enough to get a name or other details. James explained that learning [Identification] was the whole reason for me tasting this smorgasbord.
Free food and an in-game skill all at once? Sure, why not. I probably would have eaten it anyway. There were enough good flavors to wash out the bad.
The liquor though, that I had to stay away from. My steadfast dedication to sobriety had caused more than a few misses. In this most recent event the king’s men were also subjected to food I let slide. The whole thing had been like a messed up game of hangman.
All this food reminded me of Thanksgiving. Mom would be starting the entire process in a few months. The best part of going home, once I got past the constant questions about my life’s current direction, was the food. My skill wasn’t high enough to pick up many details though. By applying [Identification] to every item on the banquet, as well as the poisoned bodyguards as they fell over, I had leveled it up a bit. There was a percentage bar and number floating beneath the skill description.
James identified was a giant series of question marks. I swore the black man smirked after I tried it on him.
Skill Used: [Identification]
Name: James
Race: Voice
Title: Voice of Questioning Intent
Details: (???)
Warning! Skill Rank too low for proper inquiry
Besides the taste testing, there had been other events. Swimming had been a messy one. Floating was simple enough until the water got choppy and sharks started circling. Failing to last, for the fourth time, had bummed me out.
“What sort of people would actually succeed at these challenges?”
“You might be surprised. We’ve had some who come from your world with abilities far surpassing the norm. Others pursued training in our world and started reaching heroic heights,” he said.
“Please tell me there’s no one out there just smashing mountains with their bare fists.”
“Nothing so outlandish, but lifting carts, fighting monsters with their hands, spells of destruction. Be proud!” James’s tone carried notes of sarcasm. “Your kind are quickly becoming legends in their own right.”
“I bet things are still a mess.” It was a massive online role-playing game. There would never be
an end if the developers could prevent it. Interest in this world would have to dwindle, but Continue Online could easily span decades. Of course, humanity had thousands of years on earth and still hadn’t figured out a peaceful ending.
“How do you balance it?”
“How would you?” he responded.
“A punishment system that reduced their stats.”
“That’s one method. After all, scattering to the wind and being reconstructed is costly for your kind.”
Was he talking about death and resurrection? In most games, players had to release somehow and start over at a base point. I guessed James and his world had an associated cost.
“The other is simple. This world is vast, many times yours, and not everyone who comes here is a fighter. Some study, others are wanderers.” I walked around while James explained. He took to standing in one spot and keeping his movements limited. “Even though your kind is potentially powerful, they have shown no large-scale organization. Frequently you fight each other over petty things.”
“I’ll bet they do.” I smiled. Humanity had more than once started wars; imagine what they would do in a game where there was no permanent death.
“What is it in your world that causes such violence?”
“I imagine it’s the same thing that happens here. At least if this place is as real as you say.” Chances were, a good portion of the game world was based on reallife situations. These nonplayer characters, the denizens of Continue Online, would have nearly as many hang-ups as the rest of us. It was kind of sad. Life outside the ARC was better than it had been decades ago.
“Explain,” James said.
I poked at more things around the room and used [Identification] on anything new. Every item here was subject to my button-eyeballing skills. Sometimes the same object was reviewed to see if there was more information. Even the floor and wall got a pass. Pop-up messages kept me amused. Occasionally the game would spout some new fact with an almost snide wording.
Skill Used: [Identification]
Results: Wall
Continue Online The Complete Series Page 11
