“It’s okay. Let’s just get through this. We can meet. Are you talking to Mom?” I tried to smile in a manner that felt reassuring.
“Yeah. She’s busy trying to call a funeral home, but they’re going to gouge her.” Liz nodded. “Plus Beth’s still in her classes, so she doesn’t know yet.”
I wrapped up the food and waved toward my sister’s image while talking. “All right, tell Mom that price isn’t an issue. I’ve already set aside funds to help in case something happened.”
“What do you mean?” my twin asked.
Voices, I was an idiot just announcing the issue like that. Before my second attempt, I had been stable enough to set aside funds for everyone’s funerals, bills, homes, enough to keep the surviving family comfortable. At the time, I had intended the savings mostly to cover my own wake, but at some point, money had gone into multiple locations. I hadn’t checked on it recently, and my old firm managed most of it. They were good people, or I would never have worked with them to begin with.
“I have enough money to take care of it. Whatever Mom needs, tell her I’ll help.” Playing those games, facing those monsters, and my own sister still got my heart racing with worry. I tried not to sweat under her glare and nearly failed. Plus, the smell of food made my belly growl more than once.
“Fine. You know she won’t accept it though. Mom and Dad never did.” Liz sounded defensive for our parent.
They had been perfectly accepting of the two ARC devices I’d bought them outright. Technically Dad tried to turn me down once, but I called it paying him back for all the university classes. When he wasn’t looking, Mom, Hal Pal, and I installed the king-sized bed version that fit up to three people.
“Then she can pay me back once everything’s settled. For now though, she shouldn’t worry about funds.” I used my recently rediscovered assertiveness.
She glared at me again, then nodded.
We kept talking for a bit longer, then settled on meeting at her house so I could be there to talk to Beth. Hopefully the Auto-NAV could get me there before class let out. She might stop and do homework first, or go home to go straight to Continue. Maybe that boyfriend of hers would be waiting in some dungeon. I had only seen them play a few times. What exactly did they do?
“Are you sure about the money, Grant?” my sister asked.
“Yes, just tell her it’s taken care of. It’s… the least I can do for Dad, whatever happened.”
“Are you sure?”
My mind was chasing multiple threads. Beth’s online habits felt confusing to me. Three years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to understand an online-only relationship. They didn’t engage in virtual sex. That seemed oddly un-teenager-ish. Then again, Beth wasn’t really a good teenager to begin with. Her science degree stuff was way off the charts versus what I had learned as a child, but her social interactions were almost lower than anything Liz did. Internet relationships and the ARC must have skewed an entire generation.
I nodded to my sister while thinking along a completely different line. A good portion of my brain was wondering exactly how well those virtual feedback mechanisms worked, especially now that Xin was back. I didn’t want to sound like a desperate teenager, but there were parts of a relationship that I missed with a fierceness that had been unexpected until I held her two weeks ago. How had I existed for three years this way? Emotionally I’d existed in a near void until starting Continue. After that, it was a matter of being poked in one emotion after another until reaching her.
“Okay. I’ll talk to Mom.” Liz sniffed once and nodded. “We should probably go together.”
“Okay,” I said while trying not to feel self-centered.
I wanted to be home and logging in, but helping my mom needed to be done. Family derailed my desire to once again prove to Xin that I was worth all of her attention and time. She meant everything to me, and I would suffer any setback to demonstrate those feelings.
Still, Dad was dead. How could I let my wants override that? What kind of son would I be? In my mind was this feeling of what a child should be, but part of me felt no attachment to the man who had thrown me into the deep end, literally, just to ensure I listened to his lesson on how to swim. I didn’t want to tell Liz, who had disconnected somewhere during my mental babble, that I almost couldn’t bring myself to care.
Trillium’s van redirected toward Liz’s house while I tried to eat the rest of a now-nearly tasteless meal. My friends inside Hal Pal stayed thankfully quiet. It took a lot of work to wrap my brain around the lack of single consciousness when talking to the AI. My head shook. Now I was just looking for ways to avoid thinking about my father’s death.
I pressed a few buttons and pulled up my father’s online profile. He looked a lot like my sister and me. The generally downward tilt of our eyes came from him. Lip chewing came from mom. Dad had been quiet though. Rarely did he ever look at either of us dead-on. He often spent his time with his nose in some digital device’s text, or watching a video on how to replace portions of our house.
An hour later, I was at Liz’s house. Her split-level home had too many rooms for two people, so Liz mostly stayed upstairs as Beth ran around the bottom floor. Knocking on the door got me invited inside rapidly. The ladies were upstairs in the front room, and my niece had already halfway broken down.
“Did you hear about Grandpa Jack?” Beth asked.
I mourned the hopefully temporary loss of her normal bubbly self. How much nonsense had these last few months exposed her to? Continue Online prodded me constantly, adding in Xin’s digital existence, that letter, watching me dive off a cliff, the squad of people with Carver’s Legacy, and now Jack dying.
“I heard. How are you doing?” I asked her. Jack was my father. It had been so long since I’d thought of his name.
“I don’t feel good,” Beth said while wiping one eye.
Liz stood off to the side with her arms crossed. I walked over and gave my sister a hug, marveling at how oddly backward everything felt lately.
“We’ll be okay,” I told the two girls. “We should go see how your grandma’s doing.”
Mom’s house was an hour away to the north. Dad’s body apparently would sit in a hospital until she made arrangements for cremation or burial. Putting a body in a plot cost a lot in today’s market, but I’d set more than enough aside to make that work if Mom wanted to.
After all, it wasn’t as if I needed it to buy Xin a house, or to follow through with my other mad plans. At one time, all that money had been specifically to help fund my venture to Mars behind her on a corporate ticket.
The three of us got into Liz’s car and drove to our parents’ house. No, parent. Singular. Those days of thinking of our home, for Xin and me, had taken months to get around. Words like our parents only applied when both parties were still alive.
My mom, Sharee, looked torn up. She wore fairly decent clothes in preparation for going out. I remained in my work suit and felt out of place. Neither my sister nor I had really reached mom’s height or complexion.
“Thanks for coming,” Sharee said. Her voice sounded so frail and small.
As always, it struck me just how weird the world was when we stood eye-to-eye. Part of me would never be more than three feet tall looking at her.
“Of course. How are you holding up?” I asked while studying her.
Gray hairs littered her head. She had a tired expression and a tremor to one arm as it held her purse. Time was going by in awkward blurs. I felt as though this was happening to someone else. There was no room for the happy version of me in these events.
“Terrible. Just terrible. Your father is such an asshole for doing this to me.” Mom shook her head. There was a draw to her shoulders that spoke of intense stress. “He couldn’t just go see a doctor or remember his own pills.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said and tried to sound supportive.
“It’s not, it’s not okay.” Liz sniffed behind me as she pretty much summed up our situation.<
br />
My thoughts were all scattered. Family issues were hard enough. I couldn’t even look at Dad’s body when we made it to the morgue an hour later. I knew, I knew with a sinking feeling that made me zone out, exactly how it would appear. Lifeless, soulless, devoid of all the things that gave a human that spark of awareness. It would be a melted puppet version of the man that I’d known. In the same way that Xin’s body had been a destroyed and broken version of the love of my life. In the same way that our child had amounted to nothing more than a few more ashes in the cremation remains.
We talked a few times during the entire process. I knew words were coming out of my mouth in response to the others. What those words were escaped me. Paperwork, money, promises to pay it all back once the accounts were settled. Mom wanted to check the house. Too much of it had been left in Dad’s control.
All I could do was be there for my family. Between us, we settled some paperwork. I stayed behind to pay the bills when no one looked, and my family wasn’t in a state to ask. It was odd how mechanical everyone acted.
At some point, Mom looked at me and smiled. “Go home and take care of yourselves. I’m going to catch a cab home after I make a few calls.” She tried to be upbeat but was falling apart.
“I’ll stay with you if you want,” my niece offered.
“If you want to, sweetie,” Sharee said. “But I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure, Mom?” Liz asked. “Beth’s all caught up on her coursework. A day or two is fine.”
“Of course. You’ve done all you can. The rest takes time.” Her face twisted slightly. Both eyes wavered and a cheek drooped. The oldest remaining Legate was not in good shape.
“We’ll at least wait for you and take you home,” Liz said, trying to remain calm.
“Just go!” Mom shook while yelling. It set us all back a few feet. “Get out of here!”
“You two wait with Mom, and I’ll call my van over. It shouldn’t take long.” The funeral home and Liz’s house, where the van was still parked, were close together.
Beth nodded, then went after Sharee. Everyone looked worn, and I wasn’t even sure what had happened. Part of me felt along for the ride. Liz and I moved much slower, and near the front door, my sister asked the bombshell I had been afraid of.
“Grant, could Dad be… like Xin?” she asked.
I shook my head, then said, “Probably not? I’m not even sure how Xin is like Xin.”
There were lots of possible reasons, but William Carver hadn’t achieved the same sort of status and he’d spent years in Continue Online. There had to be other factors. Plus Dad only used his ARC for movies or vacation programs. Had. Had used his ARC.
“Why not? Why is it the person you like gets saved by some machine, but Dad doesn’t?”
“I don’t know.” I smiled weakly. “And part of me is afraid to ask the question. What would happen if other people, besides us, found out?”
Liz glared at me, then went after her daughter and mother. She didn’t like my answer. Neither did I. Still, how could anyone sane expect to magically wake up inside a digital world with pieces of their old life stored away on a hard drive somewhere? The very idea was insane.
The Trillium van arrived quickly, and I loaded inside. My sister and niece would stay and take care of Mom. The bills would be all paid. We would arrange a real funeral in a few days, after all the bodywork had been completed. Dozens of friends and old coworkers would be called, people I barely knew from Dad’s life.
Almost two hours passed as the van drove me home. It was in dire need of a charge after all the miles traveled today. Hal Pal said nearly nothing, maintaining a low profile in the wake of my last [NPC Conspiracy] usage.
At home, I disrobed from the work jumpsuit and slid my pile of dirty clothes into the washing machine. They would come out an hour later, cleaned, pressed, and folded. The process was too easy. As before, I remembered Mom’s complaints about doing Dad’s laundry and felt a pang of sadness. Yet another memory tainted by death. She would never be able to label it, “A taxing chore from the devil himself.”
Still, I felt a deep sense of budding joy, despite the recent tragedies. My happy moments were inside the machine, waiting for me. Lights in the front room were shut off by an old-fashioned switch. In routine order, I brushed my teeth and cleared personal messages from the ARC’s external display. All of the normal chores done with a fervor that hadn’t been felt in ages.
“ARC, log me in.”
My physical eyesight fell away as the device overtook my senses. Hearing was replaced by the calming music of my Atrium. I had turned it into a park where I used to meet Xin outside her work. Oak trees littered the roadside, along with a much nicer bench than the one from reality.
I strode past those and went for my doorway to Continue Online. At last, at long last, the fantasy world would be mine to explore once again. My sister and Doctor Litt had both consented that playing was better for my recovery.
There letters to be delivered, monsters to be slain, dozens of kingdoms and planes to explore. All that, and Xin would be within my reach. Where would she want to go first? Maybe we could find that guild who wanted to travel to the moon.
Eagerly, I jumped through the doorway that led to Continue Online’s avatar. I had no time to be wasted checking for my autopilot’s status. Not now, not after so long.
Light once again shifted as the Atrium fell away and Continue loaded. The soft ambiance was replaced by a darkened location. My scenic park gave way to the scent of pure rot. Hearing picked up squeaks. To top it off, a message displayed.
[Jailed]!
Your character is currently confined to a jail cell awaiting trial! Trials cannot be held without the Traveler being present. Please wait for your presence to be noticed by the proper authorities!
Most abilities will be restricted while [Jailed]
So as an excellent end to my day, my Hermes character was imprisoned in a cesspool of grossness.
Session Sixty-Seven — Crime and Punishment
My avatar—me, in essence—was currently equipped with a poorly made shirt-and-trouser combination that felt soggy in spots. Light down in this cell was poor, and seeing in the dark had never been a skill I gained in Continue Online. I needed a spell and those were blocked. Mental desperation failed to activate a fantasy copy of [Echo Vision].
Before being kicked out of Continue, I’d had a whole swath of items to help me see in the dark while wandering. Most problems were solved with spell scrolls. If I needed an outdoor tent, there was an item to assist. Drinking water came from a [Well Spring Stone]. My inventory was full of handy player creations. At least, it had been prior to Advance Online. Endless matchsticks for starting camp fires? The clothes washing bin to keep me from getting [Soiled] by nature? Those and more were gone. Only the [Bound] items stuck with me.
[Morrigu’s Gift] and [Morrigu’s Echo] sat in my inventory with giant red cross marks on them. My gambling hat [Wild Bill] was in an inaccessible storage, along with a bottomless deck of cards and some item titled [Treasure’s Gift]. The picture for it in inventory looked similar to the box Treasure had provided me in Advance Online. I hoped it would be a useful item, but for now, it was blocked. Even [Blink] refused to trigger, along with the few other abilities I had.
In short, I was boned. My autopilot had possibly done terrible things while I was away. Wait, Voices no. I had done terrible things. Killing Commander Queenshand, leading an army into battle against the giant space carrier [Knuckle Dragger], planting a bomb to blow it up, the [Mistborn]. All those events in Advance Online were echoed in Continue.
My gut sat in a low knot. A wall of messages flooded my screen, but I could almost predict what they were about. Still, catching up on the backlog might provide more insight as to what was happening.
Gains
Items: Completely mitigated by losses. Except [Treasure’s Gift].
Stats: You were killed a few times, so those were mostly pointless too.
> Skills: You still can’t use spells for more than a small ball of fire.
Losses
All the un[Bound] gear
All the gold not in the mail
All the freedom in the world
Continue Online’s pleasant Voice-generated messages provided a shortened recap. The words were pure Voice spawned snark, which let me know those upon high were still paying attention. Plus, the [Messenger’s Tube] also sat in my inventory—crossed out, of course.
These clothes were gross and cold. My pants seemed to have bathed in liquid of a questionable nature. The cell next to me either held someone dying or shitting wildly all over the place. I got up and tapped on the bars in hopes that someone might notice. This whole scene needed to move on to its next stage. Too bad the game required that I be logged in and active in order to get rid of the [Jailed] status.
Event!
Hit and Miss-tborn
You, sort of, successfully channeled all the powers from the [Mistborn], but doing so required putting down the illustrious Commander Strongarm. She was worth seven of you in terms of sheer [Respect] and overall ability. At least, that’s what the king believes. So you’re in his dungeon, rotting and stuff. Mainly because the king had a thing for Miss All Work and No Play, or maybe she did for him. Don’t worry though. Things will be looking up just as soon as someone comes downstairs to haul you away to court, where you’ll be judged and probably killed for the cathartic release.
Due to standing in the way of royal desires you…
Will forever be remembered as a criminal (Mitigation possible based on further actions)
Will be denied access to royal skills, traits, and paths. (Freelance Knight 1 Path removed)
Have been noted as a possible ally to those wishing to overthrow their kingdoms
Have been provided the title [Royal Killer]!
“Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen,” I sang while I tried to activate various abilities. “Nobody knows my sorrows.”
Continue Online The Complete Series Page 131
