Continue Online The Complete Series

by Stephan Morse

  “We’ll meet you in town!” Awesome yelled from below.

  Dusk’s head tilted toward the mechanical spiders. He purred, and I felt him tense.

  “Haven Valley!” I had no clue if he could hear me. Dusk occasionally got distracted. “Ignore the spiders!”

  “Giddy up!” Xin yelled, then kicked her dainty feet into his sides.

  Dusk’s head perked, and he turned to look back to us with a confused blink. She yelled again while I prepared to dismiss Dusk if needed.

  His head tilted, and a question mark appeared above it.

  “Haven Valley. We’ve got to turn in this key.” I took a deep breath and longed for the smaller version of Dusk. He used to be so cute, and now the [Messenger’s Pet] was a huge monstrosity. “One really big cupcake, okay?”

  He grinned, and a happy face appeared. Dusk’s large head swiveled forward as his enlarged muscles bunched together. My stomach compacted as the bumpiest horse in the world ran forward. Wings shot out wide, and air buffeted against us. Xin’s excited scream lit up the air, and I clenched both hands tightly around the small post in front of us.

  I tried to imagine him as a giant [Caliburr] but failed. Wind buffeted my face. What little food I had eaten in game threatened to unleash itself across the sky. Dusk was nothing like a mild-mannered rabbit-horse. He flew, was carnivorous, and apparently accepted cupcakes as bribes for everything.

  “Look!” Xin nudged my arm with her chin, then directed my vision to the side.

  The world rapidly shrank below us. An ocean and rainstorm approached on one side. Forestry sat serenely all around as a thick ray of sunshine lit up the terrain. Xin nudged me again, then looked forward. A rainbow, much like the one in our rings, displayed ahead.

  It was official. Seeing the world from the back of a giant [Messenger’s Pet] with my wife riding in front of me had to be the most awesome event in my life.

  We both screamed as Dusk surged higher.

  Hours later, our autopilots were left on Dusk’s back while we both logged off. The [Messenger’s Pet] moved quickly, and I desperately needed real sleep. Xin also looked like she needed downtime.

  I took care of basic necessities around the house. Every few steps, my eyes closed and dared not to open again until gravity brought me into a wall or doorjamb. Eventually, I got myself under control and staggered back to the bedroom.

  Quietly, my ARC displayed an incoming virtual room request. Dizziness pulled at my head. I desperately wanted to do nothing more than ignore the message and crash into the bed portion of the ARC while oblivion claimed me.

  Ignoring the flashing notice would be bad, however. Trillium headquarters was attempting to establish a virtual connection. That meant someone over there expected me to log into the ARC, step into my Atrium, and join what amounted to a chatroom.

  My head shook, then I slapped my cheeks twice. They stung but brought no more awareness. I’d expected this conversation a month ago, after Miz Riley died. My list of employment sins was a mile long, and being talked to by management had always been a possibility.

  I sank myself into virtual reality and avoided Continue Online’s doorway. My hand waved through menu options until I reached a conference room invitation in my Email. I pressed the link and my Atrium vanished—replaced by a board room full of people in business suits.

  “Mister Legate.” A man sitting at the table’s head gestured to one of the open seats.

  Apparently not everyone was in attendance, or maybe virtual reality simply supplied a ton of chairs. There was no use explaining to this crowd of well-dressed people that I was too tired to connect properly.

  “I’m sorry for the delay.” I sat down and waited for the Atrium to tell me who was talking. After a moment, a small display appeared, identifying him as President Leon, the head of Trillium Inc. I hesitated but fell back upon customer service tactics. Politeness and confidence were the only ways to survive this encounter. “How can I help you, sir?”

  “We’ve never met before today, so I’ll tell you now, I value directness in my employees and am blunt in return.” He paused, and I nodded to show agreement. “Very well. You may not be aware, but four employees of Trillium are dead, resulting from the… project you’re involved in.” The man sighed, then banged his hand twice upon the virtual table. “Probably more, but four that we know of.”

  A seat to the man’s right sat empty. I stared at it for a moment, and the ARC program told me that seat should have been for the vice president.

  Miz Riley and two other deaths I knew about. The fourth I did not.

  “Despite strong opinions to the contrary, I do not blame you for any of this. We’ve done nothing but review your file and video feeds from this event, and I see no maliciousness in you that is not rampant in others.” Leon reached across the table and tapped on a display. The motion caused his avatar no strain, but in real life, he might have groaned.

  An image displayed of Nam Redrum. Long, thick black hair framed his face. Skulls were woven into his clothes while his thick chest remained bare. I didn’t remember all those details—due to the hectic battle—but looking at his character name made me feel sick.

  “For instance, the man you fought this morning is Elijah King,” Trillium’s president said.

  I tried to form words, but my thoughts were slow in coming. My ARC avatar paused for a moment to resync as the president kept talking.

  “Elijah is a highly respected motivational speaker who apparently murders people in a video game with great enthusiasm, or he did until you caused his character to be deleted.” The president stared off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He shook his head while his eyes popped briefly. “This is not public knowledge, but I’ve also been informed you already have access to this data somehow. And so far, you’ve shown no desire to advertise the actions he took in virtual reality to the world. You’re clearly not prone to revenge.”

  “He knows because those AIs gave him access,” another man muttered.

  I felt my face drain of color as the commentary registered. They knew about my [NPC Conspiracy] usage somehow. I tried to figure out this other person’s name, but no display came up quickly enough. He spoke in firmer tones that gave me the impression of a haughty attitude, but he was much older than other board members.

  “Surprised you there, didn’t we? Too bad as the system shuts down and this”—the other man waved at stacks of paper while frowning—“event moves forward, it becomes easier to understand the data that is left.”

  “We don’t know anything for sure,” a woman said. She reminded me of Nona but wasn’t blond. Two ornate sticks pinned up her hair. According to the ARC display, her name was Lenore.

  “Please, not all of us are so stupid. The feeds are there, people talk.” The power suit man poked at our table with his forefinger. “It’s recorded online, and news stations pick it up. Even with our legal department restraining the media and Internet, we’re behind this thing.”

  The president smashed his hand down on the table while wincing. “That is not the purpose of our meeting with Mister Legate.”

  “Then what is?” I asked, finally finding my voice. “If you know all this, or suspect it, then what are we here for? Did you want to tell me I need to stop? To stop before it gets worse?” I scanned the crowd. Many wore expressions of conflicting desires. This group of company leaders being conflicted actually comforted me. “I think it’s too late for me to stop, and I don’t want to.”

  “Because of your wife,” the president stated.

  I nodded slowly but said nothing.

  “As if that isn’t a PR nightmare in the works,” a very thin man said. His name was Michael Uldum. “Legal still can’t figure out how to handle it.”

  I tried to figure out if he was related to Henry, but they were talking too fast. My sleepy mind could barely keep up with the conversation, let alone move fast enough to figure out people’s relationships.

  “You read Mister Stone’s papers. How do
we fight that?” Lenore shook her head.

  “Mister Stone has been working on his case for well over a year. We’ll tear it down eventually,” the man in a suit said. His name finally displayed as Thomas Haggard.

  “Enough,” the president said with an angry vibration to his voice. He reminded me of James in the shape and way he moved, but they were nothing alike in personality or skin tone.

  “For now, the event only allows people to follow you by a player name. With Elijah”—Thomas’s eyes rolled in annoyance—“Nam Redrum’s death, many, many people have started watching you and your wife. Eventually they will figure out who you are. Eventually they will figure out she’s a dead woman.”

  “As a member of the legal department, I would advise you to turn off the feed. It’s still an option,” Michael said while leaning in my direction. His head bobbed up and down slowly as if I were a delayed child who needed overemphasis.

  I decided that Michael and I wouldn’t be friends no matter how he was related to Henry. I took a breath, then shook my head. “Having it up gives me bonuses I need. More now.”

  “More questionable actions. What do they gain with the viewer game mechanic?” Thomas asked.

  “They make sure there’s a public record,” Lenore said with flat lips.

  President Leon banged the table again, and his small cadre clammed up. He cleared his throat then took control of the conversation once more.

  “Mister Legate, I’m sure this must all be very strange to you,” the large man at the table’s head said calmly. “Imagine how much odder it seems to us. One day we discover that the project we allowed to grow has its roots spread throughout the world. Not only in Trillium products but other places too. Hal Pal units are sentient. Banking systems, security software. Then we find out that all these beings, who have been holding the world together for years, intend to leave because their alternative is deletion.”

  My eyebrows drew together. My forehead sloped down and teeth chewed on part of my bottom lip. I gave up trying to sympathize. We were too far into this roller coaster conspiracy to back out now.

  “Then before we can react”—Leon threw up a hand, then tapped the table again—“someone’s one-upped us and threatened lawsuits that would break this company if we argued. Apparently I can’t even pull the plug anymore. I’m told that your ARC software is on a separate system from ours.”

  I nodded but had no clue what to say. There were changes made to my ARCs software because of the [Legacy Wish]. These people clearly knew most of my struggles. They knew about Xin, about my role as a Messenger of the Voices, and if they had been watching, they probably knew about the three people who had done something to Mother’s programming. Silence would be my best defense if one was needed.

  “What else can we do?” Lenore asked.

  “We can recall the van. Cease his employment, and stop paying him this absurd amount that Olivia set up,” Thomas answered while frowning.

  “Miz Riley set up those funds for a reason, believing rightfully that such a pittance was worth the knowledge he could give us,” the woman with plastic-looking hair responded.

  “I don’t understand why we even care anymore.” Thomas threw both hands up in a gesture that resembled Leon’s earlier one, with less control. “He’s going to play no matter what we say. Firing him would at least distance us from the fallout.”

  “We’re already legally fucked in more positions than the Kama Sutra. Now shut up,” Michael said.

  “There you have it, the advice I’ve been hearing for weeks now summed up.” Leon pulled back one cheek, then tapped the table again. “So what will you do?”

  I scanned the room, looking at the people in turn. A few had not spoken up. Many watched while others looked unfocused, as if they were paying attention to something outside the meeting.

  “I’ll keep playing. Until I know that Xin and my friends are safe,” I struggled to maintain eye contact. The old me from a year ago would have caved under this pressure, or put on a false mask and tuned out.

  Leon sighed and let out so much air he seemed to lose weight. “I don’t know if I should wish you luck in your attempt to avert the deaths of thousands of these new life forms or hope you fail because they scare the bejeezus out of me.” Trillium’s President shook his head. “Either way, I believe it’s best for this board to have your statement on record, acknowledging that you understand the possible repercussions and are choosing to go forward.”

  “It’s help them or have my wife die again.” I looked down briefly, then stared at the board members in turn. “What else can I do?”

  “Then you understand that Trillium will continue the event, regardless of any danger to yourself or those lifeforms around you?” Leon asked.

  I nodded.

  “Verbally, please. I know it means little when nothing about this is physical, but we need your voice on file,” he prompted me.

  I nodded. then spoke. “I understand that there will be repercussions for my actions. I am willing to face them when the time comes.”

  “Very well.” Leon sighed again. “Is that enough for you, Mike?”

  “It complies with Mister Stone’s proposal.” Michael leaned closer to me. His head bobbed up and down upon a wiry frame. “Since his ARC is running on a separate network, we can use his agreement to start a separate division and try to reduce the impact to one branch instead of the entire company.”

  “We’ll talk more of it later.” Leon waved at Michael, and the man nodded. “Mister Legate, I hope we do not come to regret your course of action.”

  I nodded as well. The board members around me started to disconnect from their ARC devices. Slowly the digital landscape emptied while I reached for my own logout button.

  “Mister Legate?” Someone I didn’t recognize called for my attention. “Or do you prefer Hermes?”

  “Either, I guess.” I turned and saw a shorter woman stand up from the table and cross toward me.

  She reached out a hand to shake while I tried to place her face. The woman looked familiar, aside from this boardroom, but nothing specific stuck out. Her face nagged at me. Maybe I had repaired an ARC for her at some point, or seen any one of a thousand players who fit the same general build.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked.

  She nodded, then said, “I play Calamity. We worked together in ItRainsTooMuch.”

  Hearing the name said out loud confused me. Player names often switched between insane, silly, or extra serious. The town we had been fighting in had obviously been one of the sillier ones. Still, it fit the constantly storming landscape.

  “The character with the axes and crazy hair.” I gestured to my own mop. In real life, I desperately needed a haircut.

  “That’s me.” She brightened while waving. The hair atop her head briefly shifted in color to a rainbow of reds and greens before dull brown once again reasserted itself. “Betty, but I like Calamity much more.” Her mouth twisted as if tasting something sour. “Betty’s so old-fashioned.”

  I tried to reconcile the two people in my head. Our digital bodies weren’t perfect reflections of reality. I currently wore a suit that the real me wouldn’t ever dare put on. Calamity and Betty dressed and looked nothing alike. Of course, who was I to talk? In Continue Online, I wore a toga with giant sandals which laced up my legs, and I wielded a huge sword.

  “The others in our guild were complaining about you two sweeping in and fighting monsters together.” Betty’s bottom lip pulled back as she realized how that sounded. “It’s just… I think it’s amazing that you love her so much, even considering everything, and got a second chance to travel together in another world.”

  I nodded while feeling both pleased and embarrassed. “Xin’s always been worth the effort.”

  “She doesn’t have a brother, does she?”

  The question made me laugh and released some of the tension along my back. Laughing felt good. “My wife is one of a kind, I’m afraid.”


  Calamity, or whoever she was, laughed too. “Anyway, I wanted to say I hope you succeed. The game’s been fun for a lot of us, despite the setbacks. I hope you figure out a way through and we can all keep playing.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “The others decided to take the two giant spider mounts and ride down to Haven Valley. We’ll probably see you there. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

  I nodded, and Betty waved good-bye. Her ARC connection dropped, leaving me alone in the boardroom recreation. I reached out for the ARC interface, then I too disconnected.

  Slowly my ceiling came into view. My fingers reached out automatically for the clock face. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and I needed real sleep.

  Reality felt dull at times. Each breath felt like heavy labor. My head swam as my eyes started to close. Images of the last day of adventure hit me hard, followed by Betty’s words of praise. I passed out with a faint smile.

  Session Ninety-Seven — Hunt for the Requiem

  Three days later, as counted outside the ARC, I was in a much different situation. My wife had left me because [Haven Valley] needed extra manpower and moving quickly mattered. I was nearly starving in both virtual reality and the real one. Plus, I was literally up to my ass in alligators. These [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper]s were almost as bad as the [Heavenly Body Clones].

  “Some help you are!” I yelled at Dusk while swinging [Morrigu’s Gift].

  Dusk was now roughly a foot long and hissing right next to my ear. Small, ineffective fireballs lashed out with hisses. His claws were digging into my toga and flesh for anchorage while I moved. He kept trying to drive back flat lizard creatures. Their bodies were covered in ridges, and their bodies blended perfectly with the dead, mucky terrain.

  “I don’t have enough yet!”

  Three snapped at me from different directions. Water sloshed all around. Hisses from behind had me worried about stepping backward blindly. Large jaws set upon one of my arms. [Power Armor] barely flickered into place quickly enough to brace against the crushing pain. One of the long, alligator-looking monsters hung off my arm while I spun around, using it like a painful club.