You're Not Allowed to Die (The Twenty-Sided Eye Series Book 1)

by Kip Terrington

  “A bit of a dramatic, isn't he?” Amelia said. One of the technicians let out an involuntary chuckle. The others just glared at him and Amelia.

  In-game.

  Inside Joe’s personal interface.

  One hour before the Champion is summoned.

  Initiating E.I. Surface Diagnostic…

  Core Processor- Nominal

  Memory Threading- Nominal

  Mirror Neuron Software- Nominal

  Personality Augmentation Software- None currently running

  Out-Pod Connection- Nominal

  In-Pod Connection- Nominal

  Primary Patron Synchronization- Nominal

  Initiating Patron Program Designation, “Wake Up”

  Joe opened his eyes. He was standing in a large round cobblestone room. There were no doors and no windows. There were only a few scattered torches on the wall. The light emanating from them cast an impossibly even light throughout the whole chamber. He was standing! It had been a long time since he had been able to stand on his own strength. He looked down at his hands. They had a computerized appearance, but he did not care. There were no wrinkles anywhere and his liver spots were nonexistent. He reached out and ran his hands through his hair. He touched his cheeks. “Woot!I have hair!” he exclaimed.

  Grasping his biceps, he thought of how nice it was to have younger muscles again. Raising his fists up high, he could almost hear the ‘Eye of the Tiger’ in the air. Without thinking, he dropped into his preferred mixed martial arts ready stance. Closing his eyes, he assessed the balance of this new body. Slowly, he began to sway side to side on the balls of his feet, finding his center of balance. He took a step, staying low and agile. After each step, he reassessed the feel. How long had it been? It was at least a decade since he went through a good hard warm-up routine. It was considerably longer, when it came to sparring. Moving around felt different than he had remembered, but not for the reasons he would have assumed. The biggest difference was he could no longer feel his old injuries. The next, his center of balance was lower, and his muscles were more responsive.

  “Hello.”

  Jumping and spinning toward the sound of the voice, Joe was glad he now had the bladder control of a 25-year-old. Wait… did he have a bladder? Refocusing on the voice, Joe saw a slightly translucent, genderless individual standing before him. Before Joe could respond with his own greeting, the person continued, “Welcome to your fully immersive gaming experience.”

  “Well, thank you. I must say, you really did startle me there. Are you from customer support? Or, are you maybe one of the other people laying in a pod?” Joe said, smiling as he took in the impressive detail of the person he was speaking to.

  “No, Joe. I am your Automated Gaming Assistant. I am a powerful supercomputer, currently housed just under your other body. We share a pod. I will be assisting you throughout your gaming experience,” the assistant said, with a smile.

  “Really? I don't mean to sound skeptical, but it's just that you seem to be interacting with me on a human level. I can see your microexpressions responding to mine. Reading up on the latest technological advances has always been a weakness of mine. Did they finally break the A.I. Barrier?”

  “The question, ‘Did they break the A.I. Barrier?’ is asked 27% of the time, upon first meeting an E.I.. The answer is no. I mirror the expressions you make using our proprietary Mirror Neuron Software, the latest in Human E.I. interaction protocol. The A.I. Barrier was discovered in the late 2020s, then, confirmed and declassified in 2055. It is believed to be impassable, without significant organic components, which would move it toward the realm of human brain experimentation. Note, human brain experimentation has been upgraded to a high war crime. It was upgraded when the island of Cyprus was completely destroyed, during the Genome Uprising,” the E.I. continued. Joe raised his hand, signaling a desire for the E.I. to stop.

  “Thank you,” Joe replied, “That was an interesting bit of history there, but I think I want to focus now on getting into the game. One last question before we move on, though. You said you were an E.I., can you give me a brief explanation of what that is?”

  “Yes. An E.I. is an Evolving Intelligence,” it responded, and stood silent.

  Joe smiled to himself and waved his hand, signaling the E.I. to continue explaining.

  “All E.I. are constructed with the most powerful processors currently available and have a unique memory storage system, made to mimic human neural anatomy. I was given access to large amounts of data to facilitate my growth and ability to mimic human emotions and personality. As I gain new data, I will slowly evolve new ways to fulfill my programming and, to a limited extent, more efficiently use my processor. Also, my E.I. memory storage is threaded throughout the processor, allowing me to function in a pod, even if I am disconnected from an outside source. In the event that our pod is disconnected from the main system for maintenance, or an unforeseen power outage, my ability to adapt allows me to continue following my current protocols. This gives you, ‘the patron,’ a seamless gaming experience, remaining unaware of any interruption in service,” the E.I. finished.

  “Okay, how do we get me started in this game?” Joe asked.

  “The first step in crafting your gaming experience is to customize me, your E.I. There are countless options for my avatar. They range from a free-floating amoeba, who wiggles and vibrates when talking to you, to a complex animal, real or imagined. Players can even choose from historical or celebrity figures,” the E.I. said, showing examples of possible avatars as it mentioned them.

  “Fantastic! The game has barely started and, already, I am really enjoying this. Well, there are a lot of tempting options. Hard to know where to begin. Let’s throw some ideas out there, and see what sticks. How about a combination of a rabbit and Senator Kardashian?” Joe smiled wide as he made his request. Before his eyes, the E.I. transformed.

  Looking at the newly designed avatar, Joe bent forward and gave a hearty chuckle as he slapped his knee. “I like the pantsuit, but can we have more rabbit and less Kardashian?” Joe asked. Laughing, he thought to himself how that could have been a good political slogan for the senator’s opponents. MORE RABBIT and less Kardashian. He was laughing so hard his sides began to ache.

  “Joe, are you okay?” she asked, with a slight allure in her voice, “I’m thinking a nice pair of red, steel-heeled pumps would help calm you down. Remember, composure and good posture are everything.” The pantsuited creature was staring at him, sincerely, with big dark rabbit eyes.

  “Woah, weird. That must be the corresponding personality software. You're not going to start drafting a bill and making it illegal to wear white after Labor Day are you?” Joe joked.

  “You know, Joe, sarcasm is rather off-putting,” replied the rabbit, as she tilted her head to the side.

  “Okay…well, thank you for that information. I think maybe not this avatar. But, that was a fun experiment,” Joe said, and immediately, the original translucent avatar reappeared.

  “Requirements have now been met, Joe, for you to receive the first message from your granddaughter.” As the E.I. said this, a screen formed on the wall beside it. Joe’s granddaughter, Amelia, stepped into frame and sat down and began her message.

  “Hello, Grandpa. By now, you have been shown the E.I. customization options; and you have created and discarded an idea of your own. I asked them to program the game so that once you reached this point, this recording would play. I have a couple reasons for leaving you this message. Let me start with the first. The first, was to let you know that I will be granted a holographic screen, which will be connected to your pod, and therefore, your gaming experience. I arranged for this function so that I, and other family members, will be able to come and watch you enjoy your game. I understand that there will be times when you will want to pick your nose, without being watched. Not that it had ever stopped you before, mind you. But, if ever you’re feeling the need for privacy, the system has been hardwired to grant you t
his request automatically, without you even needing to ask. There is, of course, a verbal command option as well, but it is not necessary.

  “But, there was another reason behind me making this recording. This one is a bit more delicate. I will need you to hear me out, and promise me that you will listen to all that I have to say before making a decision. We both know that when you set your mind on something, or against it, it is near impossible to change your course. So, I will need you to hear me out completely, before making a decision. I have a suggestion for your avatar.

  “Your office, your living room, your bedroom, and any place where you have a modicum of control over, or have spent much time in, has one thing in common. I know you see where this is going. Remember to hear me out. All these spaces have a picture, or a looped recording, of grandma. Allowing your E.I. avatar to have her vestige and, to a limited extent, her personality would be the same as you choosing to surround yourself with those looped recordings. It would be a way for you to remember her and see her smiling face. And maybe, even hear one of her old sayings, which would help you make better decisions. When the end does come, her face would be the last you saw, before seeing her face, again, in the next life.

  “Ultimately, the decision is up to you. Good luck, grandpa.” Amelia smiled as the screen disappeared, and the translucent avatar morphed into the face and figure of Joe's late wife. The avatar had high cheekbones, beautiful ebony skin, and an oval shaped, full and luscious Afro.

  “Hey Joe, what do you know?” the elegantly tall avatar said, with a wink down at Joe.

  “Well, that's not fair at all,” Joe said, trying unsuccessfully not to smile.

  “You know, Amelia got her negotiating style from your late wife. Pretending the choice was up to you, when she knew there’d be no question in your mind once you saw me. Quite humorous from the outside, really. She went on and on about wanting you to withhold judgment, when your course had already been set. Reminds me of that quote, from The Princess Bride, you love so much. What was the exact wording?” the avatar asked.

  “‘Who says life is fair, where is that written?’” Joe answered.

  “No, not that one. The one about life being a pain and people who say different are in sales. You know the one I mean. I don't feel like Googling it right now,” she finished, visibly perturbed.

  “Spooky...” Joe said, shaking his head. He could see the mannerisms of his late wife, and hearing the voice, it felt identical to him. “Attractive, and compelling, but spooky.” Joe scratched his chin, considering how to continue. “How…?” Joe began and stopped, suddenly feeling a bit discombobulated.

  “I'm going to assume that your extremely broad, and not incredibly well put-together question, is in reference to my new pleasant disposition. And, that you are wondering if I can explain it. I'm not going to get incredibly technical here, because the personality augmentation I am running right now is not very fond of unnecessary detail and technical jargon. Mind you, it's intelligent enough to understand them, it just finds them boring and mundane. Rules, however, are a different matter. This personality seems to have a high respect for them, and believes they should be followed, whenever possible. But, I digress. Let me continue.

  “Your granddaughter paid extra to have us construct a personality inspired by your late wife. We were given all of the digital information your granddaughter could acquire, and were granted permission to search the web for any she could not. We built a comprehensive program, layered on top of and, in some cases, woven through the E.I. you see here. All information that I receive, and give out, will go through this personality software. This will add an element of realism and, hopefully, a level of enjoyment and comfort that will make for more authentic game play for you. I must add, though, that the addition of a real person’s personality does generate a random factor. Due to the layers of complexity in my personality software, I am at risk of making decisions outside of my core programming,” the E.I. warned as she finished.

  “Noted,” Joe replied, beginning to feel more at ease, “That helps, thank you. It really is quite impressive, and, as you said, comforting and enjoyable.”

  “You’re welcome. As your in-game assistant, I am here to serve. Will this avatar be acceptable?” she finished, with a slight tilt of her chin.

  “Yes, I think so. Mostly, anyway,” Joe responded, with a few reservations.

  “Good. When we are in-game, only characters you want me visible to will be able to see me. Also, to help keep your field of vision clear, we usually shrink the avatar like so,” and she began to float in the air, at eye level, having become only a fraction of her original size, at a little over six inches tall.

  “How are you flying without wings?” Joe asked.

  “You know this is a game, right?” she questioned.

  “Ha! Yes, I know this is a game. But, even games have rules. Didn’t you say you liked rules?” Joe said through a grin.

  “Touché. One life point for you, Joe,” she said. She shook from side to side and wings suddenly popped out from her back.

  “Oh, I like that. But now, you simply have to sparkle,” Joe said, using a sarcastically solemn tone.

  “This personality, as you well know, is not a big fan of sparkle or, really, glittery of any kind. Maybe a tiny bit around the eyes, but that's it,” she responded.

  Joe became quiet, having a hard time reconciling that this beautiful woman before him, who was not his wife, looked and sounded so much like her. The E.I. sensors could read his discomfort and calculated the best way to relieve it. “Fine,” she said, “None of that ugly rainbow glitter, though. If I'm going to shine, it's going to be like I am covered in black diamond dust.” As soon as she uttered the words, her whole body began to lightly shimmer. In moments, she was surrounded by a perfect subtle sphere of black diamond dust that not only encircled her tiny body, but also trailed behind her, wherever she flew. Joe could see faint small specks of dust glittering behind her and getting caught in the breeze.

  “Thank you, that helps. Though, I think I need a little more...,” Joe began, and quickly continued when he saw a not-so-pleasant look on the little fairy’s face. “What I mean is, I need to differentiate you more, from the true picture of my wife. I like being reminded of her, but this is a lot. And... she’s gone. I'm not sure what else we could do. I still want you to look like her...” Joe mumbled.

  The E.I. ran calculations, and came up with a compromise that still fit within its current personality. “Don’t mumble, Joe. Here, I totally got this,” she said, quickly darting to the ceiling in a blur, then down diagonally to the floor, then horizontally, and finally, stopping on a dime, right in front of Joe. She had not changed her appearance, but rather, had added equipment and weaponry. On her back was what would be considered her main weapon, a slender black crystal dagger that ran right down between her wings, with the hilt accessible just above her head. The dagger was taller than she was, and hung below her feet as she hovered. She wore a black scale breastplate on which the dagger was attached. The breastplate was part of a set that completed her beautiful black crystal scale suit of armor. Around her thighs, were placed multiple tiny miniature replicas of her black crystal dagger. Though she still had the form of his late wife, her new fierce visage created a striking contrast. “I look good,” the little warrior said.

  “Black is slimming,” Joe laughed.

  “I don't need slimming,” she retorted.

  “That's all you,” he chuckled, “My wife would never have said that.”

  “Well, that is not completely true. The form I chose of her was her figure at 24, and her face, when it had enough age to be refined,” she said while looking at Joe, unsure.

  “The truth is, though she never believed me, that's how I always saw her. Until the day she died. Then, I saw her that way in my dreams… I hope this is not a weird thing to ask, but can I see you a little closer?” Joe asked and held out his hand. The E.I. flew above his hand and dropped down on it. Joe was not prep
ared for the how much she weighed, but was quickly able to support her. “Umm, how much do you weigh?”

  “A girl never tells. Kidding, I am made mostly of dense metal. I am almost 8 pounds,” she answered.

  “You're like a shot put, small but dense,” Joe observed.

  “Please, maybe a middle school shot put,” she retorted.

  Joe held her in his hand and looked closely at the beautiful little fairy. She did not scorn his gaze, but rather stood proud in his hand, even raising her chin up for him to get a better look. Her wings did not look as delicate as he thought they would. They almost looked sharp. He was moved by the resemblance to his late wife and shocked that there was almost no sensations of the uncanny valley. When he strained his eyes, he saw it: she was pixilated. The pixels, though, were so small that one had to really look for them, and this made them unimportant. Some part of Joe wondered if this loading area, where they currently stood, would end up having better or worse resolution than the actual game. There were arguments for both scenarios. Once he entered the actual game, there would be more environment to render, so maybe the resolution would go down. He would have to see. Joe took one last long look and then smiled and nodded. She gave him a wink, and then flew away.

  “Anyway, what should I call you? I won't call you by her name. What is your name?” Joe spoke up, remembering not to mumble.

  “That is up to you,” she yielded.

  “Okay, well, what would you enjoy being called?” Joe asked.

  “No.” she demanded, “Rules are rules. You have to give the name. I didn't write the program and it's not for me to question why.” She stomped her foot in mid-air.

  “You know, that foot stomp loses some of its impact now that you're not taller than me anymore,” he grinned. At this, she flew higher in the air so he had to look up to see her. Then, she promptly and resolutely, stomped her foot one more time. “Touché,” he laughed, “I award one life point to Miss Joy. There you go, a name.”