James had turned his back to me and was facing an arguing crowd. A frown weighed heavily on his cheeks.
“What’s going on?” I mean, I knew something about the offer he wanted to make was causing dissension in the ranks.
Mechanical laughing came up from behind me. That clacking sound had haunted my waking moments both in real life and the ARC.
The Jester faced the crowd. Both his arms went wide. “Do it.”
“Is that your stance?”
“It is. I would see Grant Legate do this, with glee. He’s warmed the cockles of my empty heart.” The devilish Jester’s mocking tone was accompanied by a crossing of both hands over its chest. “He entertains me, and I would see more.”
“Your price?” James questioned the other Voice with the same look he gave me during the spiders. A reserved sort of happiness, where he knew how things would play out but enjoyed watching anyway.
“A piece of the pie!” The Jester cackled again.
“Even if it exposes us?”
“Even if. I have no wish to be infinite. Chaos is change, life is change. The worst that might happen is oblivion.”
The other Voices had ceased their arguing, and as one, both sides turned and stared at the Jester’s backside.
“And Mother?” James asked.
“Were not your words this, ‘Has she ever disapproved of our actions?’” The Jester’s chin tilted downward in an impression of James’s chubby features. “Ask her yourself!”
James tilted his head upward and looked at the black sky. His eyebrows creased together in concentration. A pulse of light flashed once in the darkness. I could see the faces in the distance change to a wide range of expressions: happiness, anger, terror, and finally worry. Even though many of them had inhuman features, they were still easy to read.
“There you have it. She approves!” The Jester faded with its mechanical laugh.
“Good.”
“And?” I threw up both my hands, palms inward, and gave a partial shrug. This whole situation was confusing as always. The Voices seemed divided on this scheme that I perhaps might not accept.
“See for yourself, Grant Legate, and accept or not. The choice, as always, must be yours.”
Trait Earned: [NPC Conspiracy] (The Messenger)
Type: Passive, always active
Details: Divine Attention has reached an acceptable level. Actions with William (Old Man) Carver were successful. [Legacy Wish] received. The Voices’ approval has been gained. These traits may be combined into a new trait - [NPC Conspiracy].
Players with the trait [NPC Conspiracy]:
Cannot accept or receive quests from NPCs
They will never be referred to as a Traveler by NPCs
Quests will only be offered by the Voices
Title rewarded upon acceptance: Messenger of the Voices
Warning! Acceptance of this trait cannot be reversed.
Warning! Rewards from Voice-given quests will vary in both nature and worth.
Balance will forcibly be maintained.
I brought my hand up to cover my mouth and tried not to squeak. Instead I whacked my face with the cane in my hand. This was the strangest game commentary I’d ever seen. It was almost an employee contract. The AIs that ran this world were trying to turn me into a group… a group what? Secretary? No, avatar? What exactly was the purpose behind this? Messenger of the Voices?
“What is this?”
“We want you to help us manage this world. You need not do much beyond be in the right place at the right time so that we can focus on what needs to be done. For both your people and ours.”
“That sounds really weird.” For some reason, I had the mental image of going around and handing people mail. Like a wartime delivery of news to those in charge. We’ve lost the Western front, sir! Send more Horses and Cheese!
“I’ve told you, it’s hard for us to see individuals below. Most of what is revealed to us is limited to specific prayers, temples, or key figures passing.”
“Oh.” Okay, now I was putting it together. James had spoken about my presence here being like a light in the darkness. Following that had been his babbling about Travelers down there being a drop of water in the ocean. “You need me to get to these key places so you can focus on them more easily?”
“In essence.”
William Carver had been dead, in essence. James had been misleading me on that one too. Not that it had stopped me. Everything had mostly worked out in the end. Besides, this was interesting to me. The Voices would let me see the world and tell me where all the action was.
“I’m in. But why me, James?”
“Something in your actions stirs us, Grant Legate.” James put his hands up and grasped at the air with a serious expression. “In the history of Travelers, very few have ever changed our ways, yet you have done so twice through simple deed and action.”
“Okay.” I motioned him forward while my other hand fiddled with the cane’s topper. By now I understood when James had more to say.
“Indeed, we’ve discussed, at length, your presence more than most Travelers.” The way he said it sounded like parents trying to cover up their arguing in front of a child. Maybe it wasn’t that far off.
James’s actions reminded me again how human these programs seemed. With William Carver’s explanation, it nearly made sense. They were people. A dozen personalities were being placed in a blender, pureed, then poured back out.
“Your invasive knowledge of our world almost requires us to make an offer,” he said.
The countless hours I’d spent going over that map of information had given away a lot. A little girl faded into view. One hand was still on a parted open book while the other tugged at James’s sleeve. The larger black man looked startled, then nodded to the younger Voice.
“Did you like the name of the skill? I thought of it myself.” Normally her face was shoved into endless books, but now she was as wide-eyed and bright as could be.
“It’s neat,” I said. My biggest, cheesiest grin went into the response.
She reminded me of Beth at that age. A delighted smile passed her face. The youngster faded out with a blush.
James gave us both a few seconds to process everything. Well, mostly me. The computer had probably calculated all the possible outcomes.
“You can deny this and go about existing as a normal Traveler, or accept, and see the world unlike any of your kind have yet to.”
Finally, I nodded. “Sure, James, I said I’m in.” This would be a very interesting distraction to say the least.
“Two more questions before I send you below. One I ask for the others—they doubt my analysis of your response,” James said, abruptly turning the conversation sideways.
“Okay.”
“If we had offered to restore your fiancée, in whole, to the personality we’ve stored from your world”—he looked at me with a serious expression—“would you have accepted?” James waved one arm, and in the air nearby, a picture of Xin appeared.
Her face captivated me. Those eyes that bled between red and brown. I lost myself for a moment before shaking my head.
“If she was like William, no.” I wanted Xin back badly. If she had walked out of the darkness, there was no telling what my real response might be.
“Go on.” James nodded as if he had completely expected the answer. Maybe my face had given something away, or the pulse of my brain, or any number of other things.
“There was a time I would have given anything, everything, just to see her once more. To hold her and say good-bye.” I looked at James. “It was unfair, you know? It wasn’t just her that died; it was all the roads not traveled, the ones I’ll never be able to see the end of.”
“That doesn’t answer the question, Grant Legate,” James said.
I was too strung-out to even be annoyed at his usage of my entire name. William Carver had been kind enough to at least ask.
“William didn’t remember that side, my side
of the ARC. Having that back would be meaningless. I would, uhh—” Every time I was torn up mentally, it became impossible to speak straight. “Rather she be happy as she is. Whatever’s left of her.”
“And you feel no remorse over this? Letting go of the woman who briefly escaped our world into yours?” He clapped, and the image of Xin vanished.
“It wasn’t, isn’t, really her? It’s more like an echo?” It would be nothing more than her memory, and a faded one at that. My selfish desire to see her again couldn’t be brought to bear at the cost of her existing in such a muddled manner.
“This is true, and any portion of her you encounter in our world would be someone else entirely. A different life, a different set of memories and quirks. She, even if we were to piece her back together, would never be the woman you loved,” James confirmed.
“Right.” That didn’t make me feel happy about my decision. This wasn’t depression. This was realism borne of painful nights and many hours of therapy.
Demonstration Results: +5 [Wisdom]
I tiredly rolled my eyes and flicked off the message. Afterward, I crossed my arms and tapped my foot to the rhythm of one of my favorite dances.
“One last question, Grant Legate.”
“Only if it’s about my name.”
“It is. How do you feel about Hermes?” He had that sly smile. The same one he had worn before putting me in webbing and siccing spiders on me. That memory popped into my brain constantly.
“The Greek God?”
“Yes, this name did come from your world. Does that bother you?”
I pondered the name while trying to keep a four-count tempo in my head. What was a waltz again? One beat per second? The distraction helped me calm down and think about James’s suggestion. Hermes, as a name, was more interesting than the many ones I’d thought to pick for myself. None of the new player names that had crossed my path as Carver had appealed to me either.
“I don’t have to wear winged sandals, do I?” The helmet might be a bit out of style as well.
“No.”
“Uhhh…” Well, I clearly failed at deciding. No amount of name abuse from the Voices had cemented anything. So why not? “Sure. Hermes it is.”
James motioned to the book and a giant quill. I sloppily wrote out Hermes in the best imitation of cursive available to me.
“There is an added benefit.” James looked behind me. “You may take him with you.”
The tiny creature alighted on my shoulder and clacked its jaws in a snap. I raised an eyebrow at the [Messenger’s Pet]. My very own virtual home wrecker had once again risked my presence. Never mind. I had no ability to focus on the past damages of a digital being.
“I still don’t know his name.” I rubbed at his head with one finger, making the [Messenger’s Pet] chirp happily.
“Dusk,” James said.
The small creature jumped up and down on his perch near my head.
“How the heck was I going to guess that?” Four weeks of useless attempts and irritation down the drain!
The small creature looked smug, yawned, then head-butted the side of my face.
Trait Earned: [Messenger’s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic]
Rank: 2, Unique Variant [Messenger’s Pet]
Details: Monster Companions are far different than a captured and trained monster. Having one requires earning the trust of the creature and being patient.
This process is not achieved overnight. Travelers with a Companion pet will:
See Increased growth stats in the Companion (10% quicker gain to character points)
Receive additional information and prompts regarding the Companion
May receive “Blessings” or other “Gifts” depending on the Companion type. Not all changes are beneficial.
Companions also have the following differences:
Buffs are not shared between the Traveler and Companion. They are separate creatures
Companions may choose to ignore or even leave the Traveler depending on performance
Rank 1 Unlock - Increased likelihood of Companion following orders. Increased understanding between Companion and Traveler.
Rank 2 Unlock - Additional increase in likelihood of Companion following orders. Further increase in understanding between Companion and Traveler. Unlock will take time to sync correctly.
Rank 3 Unlock - Blessing from [Messenger’s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic]. Details hidden until release.
Session Twenty — Belated Trigger Warning
Portions of this felt really familiar. The Voices herded me into a white doorway shortly after I said yes to James’s proposal. They gave me a cylindrical tube with the promise that it would allow me to contact the Voices. More importantly, they would be able to reach me.
There was a disclaimer about being unable to return to the room. I guess that served as a character creation space or some nonsense. Furthermore, James prattled on about how the [NPC Conspiracy] trait could not be talked about. The first rule of NPC club was not to talk about NPC club. The second rule of NPC club was not to talk about NPC club.
Explanations would eventually turn awkward. My niece might get confused when we couldn’t share quests and go beat up bad guys together on missions given by the machine. Assuming she even wanted to hang out with old Uncle Grant. I was a downer at birthday parties.
“First thing’s first.”
I’d landed somewhere. This was not a starting city. In fact, there wasn’t a town anywhere nearby. I had eyes that could actually see into the distance and they firmly established how lost we were.
“Uhhhh…”
The [Messenger’s Pet], or Dusk as I’d have to start thinking of him, was happily flying around. He was probably looking for a small critter to destroy in a vicious one-on-one duel.
“Marco?” I called and looked around. No one responded with Polo. My inner child deflated.
This was my first experience in the game as me and not as William Carver. Contemplation of my surroundings could wait as a serious review of character details ensued. What had the Voices seen fit to give me? I waved one arm and brought up the inventory screen. This was easy enough to perform since I’d seen all the other new players do exactly the same actions dozens of times.
Equipment became the first priority. I had food and water in small amounts. Enough for a week or two of travel was stored away. I had a [Simple Dagger] on my belt. My clothes seemed to be a light leather of some sort and wore the title [Traveler’s Garb]. There was an armor bonus to it that I’d never noted on any of Carver’s clothing. I guessed it would be useful if a group of raging rabbits attacked me out here.
“Huh.”
I had real skills. Happiness surged through me. No longer was my life a proxy for someone else! This was all mine, earned by my efforts. Rewards for the actions I had performed! Reading each one gave me a warm fuzzy feeling and sometimes added confusion.
I’d earned a trait called [Chaste] at some point. Probably by pressing the No button to a certain aggressive demon woman name Mezo. Oh Voices, I had to stop thinking about her or this scenic view would be wasted while my nether region was reined in.
“So my two-handed sword progress stayed. Dancing skills - advanced, okay.”
There were some that were expected. Like [Breathing], I mean, it seemed fairly obvious. However, the game might eventually lead it to something else. Questioning every little skill would be a waste of my sanity.
“What’s light body?”
Skill Learned: [Light Body]
Type: Advanced
Rank: 2 (Beginner)
Specialties: Unknown
Details: This skill results from other abilities and actions. When carrying less than the specified weight, you gain additional speed and limberness. Exceeding the specified weight will negate these benefits.
Current limit: 30 lbs.
“Eh?” I blinked and tilted my head. This was probably related to my dance skill, which was disproportionately high in comparison to ever
ything else.
I, however, was not light. The belly that haunted my real world hours was even now mocking me from beneath the fairly well-fitting armor. My scale may show a few pounds lost in the last two weeks, but it would take months to undo this gut.
“Time. Timeee,” I muttered and did some calculations. According to this, I would be able to play Continue Online for at least another day in-game. Twenty-four hours to find a parking place.
“Dusk!” I shouted at the [Messenger’s Pet] who had managed to find sticks to quarrel with.
His head snapped up in attention.
“Can you find a city? A town? Some place to rest?” Actually, I had a million other questions to go along with that, but I would settle with those prior to logging out of my ARC and catching some real sleep.
Dusk nodded and flapped his tiny wings. He zipped into the sky like any bird of similar size might. I marveled at the spectacle for a moment before going back to my menu options.
“Alarm’s still set, bank account good, Internet accessible over here.” Musings passed as I shoved windows around. “Okay! Time to…”
Talking out loud was never a good sign. I kind of missed having someone to converse with. Nearly an hour had passed while I reviewed details of my “character.” What got me was the cane, thing, whatever, that I’d gotten from William Carver. A lot of numbers and points showed how much it was worth and how badly hitting someone with it might go. Those were glossed over as the finer details were yanked out.
Item: [Morrigu’s Gift]
Damage: Above Average
Durability: Above Average
Added Trait(s): Regeneration, Form Flexibility
History: This weapon was crafted from the stuff of shadows and nightmares. Its existence was brought into being at the height of two people’s power. They slaved for weeks, risking much to provide a suitable item for William Carver. The weapon was titled from a legend in the world of Travelers.
Form Flexibility: This item keys into the user’s thoughts and will adapt a shape accordingly. Time to adapt a new shape is dependent upon the user’s [Depth] and [Focus].
Continue Online The Complete Series Page 42
