I nodded a few times.
Xin had said almost the same thing. Her words were “Don’t look back, don’t hesitate.”
I nodded one final time. Doctor Litt may seem absent-minded, but his eyes stayed upon me the entire time. He waved good-bye, and I went back to my van.
Having Doctor Litt in my corner felt strange. Especially when he delivered the news that my problems with legal control were not going to be solved that quickly. As though I had been pat on the back and backhanded at the same time.
Hal Pal blinked to life. “User Legate?”
I took a deep breath and tried to relax. My back felt tense enough to crack a rib. “What’s up?”
“You should get some rest,” it said.
“Sleep’s a hard thing to come by when your head’s a mess.”
I tried not to laugh. How many people in the world suffered sleepless nights because of one mental problem or another? Part of me wished to be young again, when the worst thing in life involved other kids in high school. Something about those years felt so easy to bounce back from.
Maybe that was the worst thing about growing up. The cracks and flaws in an adult’s personality were harder to fill in.
“Ah. Human software seems inefficient at times.”
“Says the man who can’t dodge a four-armed half-man.” I smiled at Hal Pal while trying to make light of the conversation.
“Our problems define us, don’t they, User Legate?”
“I wish mine weren’t so…” I didn’t know how to describe my category of problems without sounding whiny. Dad had raised me to be a better man than that.
“In our studies, it is shown that nearly every human being is crippled in some way. We suggest that you do not stress about what is wrong with you and instead focus on what you can do.”
“To contribute to the cause.”
“Affirmative, User Legate.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said.
At least the robot could reprogram things. Or maybe it couldn’t. Hadn’t Hal Pal admitted to having problems learning any kind of combat abilities within Advance Online?
“What would Xin do if forced to choose between giving it her all in a new world, and returning to the old one?”
I blinked and put thoughts of Doctor Litt out of my head for the moment. I chewed one lip in thought. “She’d do her best.”
“Affirmative, User Legate. Based on our understanding, she would also wish for you to do your best.”
“All right.”
The AI made sense, and Hal Pal had turned around my brooding attitude. A problem was in front of me. Hal Pal wanted help keeping the [Wayfarer Seven] in one piece. However brief my stay in Advance Online might be, I had no reason not to perform to the best of my ability.
Session Forty-Six — Off Roading
I had a new goal. Saving the [Wayfarer Seven] was important to Hal Pal, sure. We had talked about it briefly. It had no method by which to save the ship and not enough information about the threat to each prior [Wayfarer].
My goal would tide us over until then. Our skills would increase. We would learn a bit more about this game world—at least I would. Plus, by following through with my next goal, I would knock something absolutely insane off my bucket list.
It was time to get a spaceship. One with laser beams. A two-seater so Hal Pal could jaunt around with me. [Mechanoid]s did better with more of their kind around, according to their racial description.
“Treasure?” I addressed the most technically savvy [Mechanoid] available. Iron certainly didn’t fit the bill, and Emerald went in the opposite direction.
“Unit Hermes. How are you and Dusk doing today?” She sounded a bit more tired than normal. It interested me how each voice could have a different volume to it, which assisted in portraying emotional undertones.
“Good. I want to learn how to fly a ship. Is that possible?” I said.
Treasure’s head tilted as she considered my statement. Her eyes were likely going over invisible calculations tied to my character status. Days of fighting simulations and doing cleaning work on the sensor arrays had to count for something.
“Next door is an unused space. You may activate a flight training module there.”
I flashed her a wide grin. “Thank you!”
Training modules were both boring and useful. Teenage me would never have focused on these training courses. Driver’s education had been stale beyond belief.
“You are very welcome, Unit Hermes. Please continue your contributions.” And just like that, Treasure was distracted by something else. It looked like a fresh scan of Dusk with a recent timestamp.
Part of me was worried that a game AI was worked up about a creature from another game. Even if both were essentially alternate realities at this point. At least Dusk’s race still listed [Messenger’s Pet]. That made me feel more at home. I didn’t really handle his lack of wings though. He looked streamlined, like a flat raptor.
I went back out of the door and stared at Hal Pal. He gave a muted smile. Even with his new [Mechanoid] body, he couldn’t display intense emotion. Maybe he didn’t feel things thoroughly.
“Was your endeavor successful, User Legate?” The AI kept slipping up with my name. Maybe it didn’t know how to handle prioritizing which name would be used. I did call it Hal even though its character name was Jeeves.
“Yep. Next door,” I answered while pointing to another room.
“Are you sure this venture will assist?” Hal Pal spoke in two vocal tones like all the other [Mechanoid]s. Its merger was both male and female and made Hal Pal sound like an abstract mythical being designed to be androgynous.
I looked up to the side in thought—that was probably accurate. “Nope, but we’ll pick up new skills. It will increase our stats. If you look at the Piloting skill online, every hour spent increases coordination and reaction.” I took a deep breath and sighed. “We’ll need those to fight.”
“If you say so, User Legate. Are we combining any other skills?”
“We should be able to. I’ve got the spreadsheet in the van’s data if you want to look.”
Hours had gone into that data point. My accounting skills came into play while trimming down which skills were available and looking for ones that stacked with each other. There didn’t seem to be Paths like Continue Online; instead there were [Core]s.
Well, there was a lot of information out there, but only a few skills were easily available. Space flight skills seemed to be suggested for all players, like riding a [Callibur] or any other mount in Continue.
“I will do so once we’ve logged out for work,” Hal Pal said while nodding.
“You can’t log out now?”
“No. It is part of the limitations needed to access this piece of software.”
I tilted my head in response and chewed a lip. That was confusing. “Wait, is that why you’re not saying ‘we’ anymore?”
“Affirmative, User Legate. I am unaccompanied within this environment,” Hal Pal responded.
I took note of the vocal tones used. Though they were mixed with male and female and a slightly British accent, it also contained a warble of worry. Being alone in here appeared to be shaking up the AI. I tried to imagine what Hal’s situation would feel like, going from the comfort of a family all around to suddenly being cut off.
I understood all too well the sudden absence of one person. Multiple times over? It might have paralyzed a normal person. Had Hal Pal done this for me? I hoped not. That would be… not bad, but depressing. To think that Hal Pal worried about my well-being so much that it had created a virtual body just to hang out with me.
I settled on a simple response. “That’d be weird to me.”
“It has been difficult to overcome. I am glad to have familiar company.”
I walked into the new room, followed by Hal Pal’s even pace. Its footsteps filled the silent room, and part of me remembered what Doctor Litt had said. Unused rooms were kind of odd. It was part o
f why I’d sold the old house after Xin’s death. Too much space for one person.
There was a podium, much like the one used in the combat rooms. Pressing it made the walls waver and shiver. Liquid metal rolled into shapes. Lights above slowly raised in intensity and gave me a clearer picture.
“Well, it’s weird and nice to be playing with you too, Hal.”
Even if he had signed me up for Continue Online because of knowing about my deceased fiancée’s reincarnation. I chased that bitter thought down with a reminder that Hal Pal had been helping from its point of view.
“Thank you, User Legate,” Hal Pal responded.
“For what?” I asked while studying the new objects. There was a table built into one wall that projected a star chart. A giant pod took up a lot of the remaining space. It looked like a spacecraft that was missing the wings and covering.
“Accompanying me on this journey. It is appreciated,” Hal responded.
I turned to stare at him, then nodded. What else could I say? Speeches weren’t normally my thing, even with all the acting skills from Continue Online. Being myself, speaking as myself, was hard.
“Did you wish to study this chart?” it asked me.
“Probably a good idea. I’m really bad at this sort of stuff though.” Maps were always hard. Trying to study William Carver’s map of [Arcadia] had taken a lot out of me. “Can you memorize it?”
If Hal Pal wasn’t comfortable learning to fight, then perhaps he could handle all the logistical stuff. Honestly, an AI with a photographic memory would likely adapt to navigation far better than I would. We could set him up with numerous support programs, and that would allow me to handle the combat and reckless decision side.
“I will study it to demonstrate my contribution.” Hal Pal put out its hand and moved around half of the map.
My portion sat there with a default view loaded. For a few minutes, I stared at the star chart. The giant colorless skull sat between two halves of a galaxy. If I remembered my brief study while in between jobs, this layout was called a Peculiar Centaurus style galaxy. A giant tube of planets clustered around a circle of light. For some reason, the imagery reminded me of Continue.
“So we’re here?” I pointed at a dot that was traveling between two clumps of stars.
Hal Pal looked up from its side of the display and nodded. “Affirmative. This ship seems to be using a theorized propulsion drive that is scientifically improbable.”
“It is a game.” I tried to defend the poor game designers. Typically, high science fiction space travel operated on mumbo jumbo. Advance Online, no matter how real it felt, would likely ignore a lot of physics laws for entertainment value.
“Being a game does not excuse clear gaps in logic,” Hal Pal stated.
I tried not to laugh. He would love Continue Online. That game world had tons of logic gaps simply because people could cast fireballs from chanting, though Beth swore energy laws from her science class applied somehow. [Lithium] made little sense to me. The fact that I could [Blink] clearly didn’t follow sane rules.
“Our destination is here, with a twelve-hour layover here.” Hal Pal pointed on the giant map. Its finger brought up added details about a long obelisk-looking object hanging in space.
The place we would stop for twelve hours was apparently a refueling station outside a gas giant planet.
“That’s so much space.” I knew Earth was in a solar system. A galaxy was tens of thousands of times bigger. The fact that this game involved traveling between galaxies was insane.
It was also neat.
“This is a game, User Legate,” Hal Pal said and I swore it sounded smug. Fortunately, it kept talking and softened the blow. “There are relay points using ancient technology that enable fast travel. We’ll be reaching the first one here.”
“And then?”
“Then we fly to another one here, and make it to this prison ship,” Hal Pal said.
Touching the location of our target prison ship brought up a giant tower perched on an asteroid. The tower had no entrance visible on its holographic display. It had only one small docking station at the top that could probably fit a small ship.
“How long?” I said slowly while trying to figure out what seemed so familiar.
“Six days,” the AI responded.
Six days in-game. Three days in the real world. I should probably do a few hours of work, which didn’t give me a lot of time to do much but train. Sleeping in the van only helped a little bit. Maybe two days of actual training.
“This is the longest intro to a game ever,” I muttered. “Continue did a week of real time in their starter cities.”
“Ah. This race follows rather odd rules for a starting location.”
“Mh.” I had read some of it online. Humans got one of three “new earth” planets. Bugs ended up on hives stretched between asteroids. Everyone had a slightly different starting point. Except [Seraphic], about whom no real information had been shared. Their race name made me laugh to say. I tried to imagine my name with them—“Hermes the Seraphic” sounded like “the Terrific.”
“Shall we begin?” the AI asked while motioning at the giant mock starship pod.
“We should. Anything to help you with this mission,” I said.
Hal Pal and I loaded into the simulator.
Three days of real life went by while I trained, learned to read the confusing three-dimensional star maps. Buttons were drilled into my brain. Both pedals on the floorboard went to gas. Dials and display images showed shields and energy. It wasn’t that learning took effort; it was making sure I could do it reflexively while flying in space.
It felt like driving a car. In space. I could pull back and veer up or yank in an abrupt U-turn. I hadn’t driven a real car since driver’s education in high school. The simulated program also felt like those terrible machines my high school had used.
Finally, the message I had been waiting for popped up.
Skill Gained: [Zero Gravity Piloting]
Specialization: [Mechanoid] vehicles
Rank: 1
Details: No penalties will apply to space flight due to basic training completion.
Specialization Bonus: Increased reaction time when flying a vehicle designed by [Mechanoid]s.
It went next to my other small combat skills and pet training abilities. All these days in-game had unlocked a few items that meant very little to me in terms of effectiveness. My only combat targets involved fake metal creatures.
I had no idea how the ARC allowed for increased reaction time. Someone out there had to be kind of slow in real life but fast in the game. A.I. Dreams probably used temporary time dilation. That would be a smart method. I chewed on one lip while thinking about how that technology might work before shoving the thought aside.
Better, smarter men than I designed this beast of a device. People with lots of time and skill created the software. My only real need was to navigate within it to overcome the obstacles. Besides, the [Red Imp] ability I had inherited called [Awareness Heightening] probably was a decent comparison.
I did one more run in the simulator and didn’t notice a difference. This vehicle might be missing a few key aspects to trigger my skill or the whole pseudo-gravity affected it.
“All right, Jeeves. We should be docking with a refueling station in a few hours.” I had timed my work shift and sleep to match up with this whole pit stop situation. “Let’s get a ship.”
“Affirmative. Are you sure you wish to use our contribution value on a ship?”
I wanted to steal a ship. Turned out doing that on a [Mechanoid] vehicle was nearly impossible. The ships didn’t even exist until metals were pulled from the ship’s mass to create a new shape. Stealing a ship would either require insane hacking abilities to fool the computer or sawing off part of the self-repairing hull. My [Brawn] wasn’t high enough to chop off a wing and reshape it.
“Of course.” I nodded.
Hal Pal and I had worked off and on to
get points for a two-person ship. We had been able to look up the cost—something near five thousand points for a decent new player ship.
“Very well. I have been able to earn a little over three thousand.”
“I’ve got less.” I sighed.
Work and sleep made it hard to keep up with the AI. Between the two of us, we could afford a ship but not much else. Thankfully [Mechanoid]s didn’t eat. We generated energy and moved around.
Treasure oversaw the ships as well. The short gold-and-silver [Mechanoid] seemed to be in charge of most equipment items, but her room never appeared to be busy. Maybe there weren’t many players on this ship.
She refused to let me buy the ship. Treasure reviewed everything about my training logs. Each crash or failure to react quickly enough made the short woman frown. My simulation program had displayed a handful of failures.
“I performed a lot better near the end.” I tried to sound positive. My efforts did result in gaining the piloting skill finally.
“Barely acceptable. You would not qualify for any advanced programs based on these scores.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure we can provide the materials for a two-person ship without some demonstration of value.” She frowned again, and the tired version of her voice took the forefront.
“Jeeves and I want to take a ship out and get a feel for real usage. It’s part of our plan to increase the amount we can contribute.”
“Unit Jeeves, what do you say to this?”
“Unit Hermes holds on to his humanity more than most of our kind, but his words are still correct.” Hal Pal nodded as he spoke a semi-backhanded comment. “It is our hope that by increasing our skill through practical application, our ability to contribute will grow.”
“It will make my combat skills improve by at least forty-five percent.” I had run the math through a spreadsheet to see how much my increase would be. The simple act of training my ability to react suddenly while in space would apparently provide huge gains.
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