I picked up each parchment and watched a distant quest marker appear on the horizon. None were close by. Shazam must communicate somehow with the Voices or she would never randomly escort me off the mountain. I would have to ask what her trick was. Whenever she got back from autopilot.
Dusk hopped around in the shrubbery nearby. He set his vicious thoughts upon chasing some slithering creature through the bushes. I could barely see a tiny bubble of thought bounding around. It seemed like typical Dusk actions so far. New place, murder the local critters and declare superiority, move on.
Hours passed in-game while I looked around and fiddled with my inventory. Most of my extra time was spent trying to shift [Morrigu’s Gift] into different forms. A pole had been the first alternate shape after my walking staff form. The arm length dagger was new. Eventually, the silly thing would transform into a wide range of weapons.
Transforming the object around interested me. It wasn’t about finding the perfect shape to play with. My [Blade Dancer] path focused on large weapons which clearly suited me. Switching around [Morrigu’s Gift] just kept me from being bored. One day I would find something else to play with while traveling.
Finally, things grew beyond dull. I logged out and handled the necessities of life. My home’s digital projection hookup allowed me to monitor Continue Online remotely with ease. A small box floated near me in real life. If I switched rooms, the projection followed. The only thing on my ARC television was a picture of Hermes looking bored and strapped to the [Caliburr].
There was a moment of excitement as Dusk landed. He seemed displeased with the autopilot status and huffed at my video game character’s face. Real me absently watched it all while sipping coffee. I was distracted trying to figure out sleep. It had been pretty broken since starting Continue Online.
Home felt cramped and boring. I took a walk to clear my head. Stepping outside also made me feel like a real human being who didn’t just sit and play video games all day.
Living in Continue Online for many hours had almost distracted me from the technological advances of the real world. Compared to the leather straps holding Hermes in place on the back of a [Caliburr] reality was space age.
Our world had been flooded with innovations in the last decade. Going into the supermarket resulted in targeted adds that picked my name and purchase history out of a line. The audio was basically beamed at my location by an overhead system. There was a mute button that was accessible floating off to one side. I had to suffer through five seconds of advertisements first.
Cars zipped down the street and dropped people off. People got out and the cars moved on to other users. Some places didn’t own their own vehicles and instead pooled together to rent two or three automated cars for a neighborhood. It was great for poor areas and a lot cheaper.
Walking home showed roads with sidewalks that illuminated by using stored solar power. They were less offensive than the lamp overheads of twenty years ago. All of these lights were managed by a hub every few blocks. Hubs were mounted on pillars that stood two stories tall and ran facial recognition software. For two dollars a month, I could choose to highlight the sidewalk around me in green instead of the standard blue.
Decades ago people had wondered how far was ‘too far’ with regards to the Internet and technological monitoring. Ten years ago there had been movements demanding a ban on the higher end products. Now those people who cared could move to areas that were nearly blacked out from the more modern inventions. It was weird to think that ten percent of the population wanted to be stuck in the past.
We, humanity, had worked hard at arguing with each other over new inventions and the illusion of privacy. I was okay living in my neighborhood where it felt like things were convenient, but big brother wasn’t breathing down my neck.
A robotic lawn mower was busy cleaning up one man’s lawn. It trimmed hedges, edged sidewalks and even spouted a ‘Hello’ as I walked by. Three children shot by while playing digital laser tag. All this felt normal compared to the fantasy world within Continue.
After two hours of head clearing, I wound my way back home. This was the world that Xin and I had lived in. This wonderland of technology wasn’t in Continue Online. The closest thing inside my game were pop-up boxes with information.
It was funny. All these advances, and I spent my time inside a game stabbing monsters with a sword that didn’t truly exist. Digital immersion was by far one of the scariest bits of modern technology available to humanity.
When I was inside the ARC everything felt real. I laughed, I cried, I interacted with a pet that could have put Mister Sniffles to shame. It felt like real life. Our minds were at the mercy of the machine and we just accepted it.
Getting out of the house was an excuse. The last few days had dumped loads of information upon me. What I needed was time to process. Hadn’t I told James long ago that both sides were real? Hadn’t I danced with a false version of my fiancée to not feel lonely?
To Xin or whatever compilation of memories she was, it would be utterly real. To her, it was everything. That was the angle I had to approach things from. What did this recreation of Xin see? What would she care?
I logged back into the ARC with a firm plan in mind. Real Grant lay calmly on a cleverly costumed machine. Digitally, inside Hermes, my legs were still strapped to the [Caliburr]. The sun was setting and our mounts were slowing down. Dusk had curled up for a nap on one shoulder while his tail anchored around my neck.
Everything had to start with contacting my personal Voice. Items were pulled out of player inventory. A message was penned to James asking, ‘I would like to send Xin a letter. How can I do that?’.
“Seriously?” A good ten minutes had passed in-game and there was no answer yet. I outright asked James a question by putting his stupid name at the memo’s top.
I rattled my tube around and waited for heat or chill or something to kick in. There was no solid result one way or the other. The top was unscrewed and the inside was annoyingly empty. Fine.
“Shazam!” She was still away. Her autopilot was leading us off to one side of the road.
I had a vague idea of how to set up camp from off and on practice in the mountains. Shazam’s autopilot was pulling out gear mechanically and putting up two tents. We hadn’t used tents before on the mountain. There we stuck to caves. Part of me wondered exactly how much gear she had packed away.
Unstrapping myself looked simple enough. There was a knot near the saddle’s front that could easily be undone. Halfway through untangling the bindings my [Caliburr]s started shuddering. The violent movements sent me off to one side. Large clawed feet bucked and almost tore my face. I rolled to one side in panic and stood up.
Shazam’s autopilot seemed undisturbed and had started cooking. I brushed myself off and tried to pretend a giant rabbit hadn’t almost crushed my head. Besides, Shazam’s cooking was great. Mechanical, but tasty. It was like her mind sorted everything away into perfect formulas and put things together with precise measurements.
I glared at the giant [Caliburr] and tried to figure out what to do. Typically my role in camp set up was nonexistent. Shazam was too efficient. Maybe one day I would find a good hobby. Finally, after twenty minutes Shazam logged back in.
“Hey. I had a question.” I was happy that Shazam always seemed to respond right away. She frequently logged in and out throughout any given day.
Shazam took both thumbs and alternated lifting them in the air. Our poor communication skills meant that she was asking for more information. At least, that’s what it normally meant.
“So I have an Ultimate Edition, and I was told you do too,” I said.
She blinked slowly and kept up the cooking without missing a beat. Items spilled out of player inventory onto a small table that had been unpacked. Shazam piled them together and diced up an object that looked like an onion but was green.
“Do,” Oh this was going to sound crazy, “the Voices talk to you? I mean they must give y
ou quests or something.”
She nodded slowly.
“How do they talk to you?” Thankfully my crazy talking hadn’t made her think less of me at all. Of course, this young woman had put my character in painful situations for weeks on end.
Shazam put both hands up next to her head and pantomimed sleeping.
“In your dreams?” I asked.
She nodded and took out spices. They were thrown into a travel sized cooking pan and everything sizzled. Her autopilot was a master at starting fires. Mine was a master at humming and tapping its foot when left alone.
“Like in real life, or in the ARC?” I said.
Shazam pointed one finger down briefly. Okay, so she slept in-game and the Voices sent her messages while sleeping? Why had that never worked for me? I had been exhausted and unconscious in the game a few times. Not once did any of the Voices visit me. Well aside from dying once and being intercepted by that Jester figure. Its interference with my normal failure process had been limited to one instance so far.
I chewed on my lip. Shazam handed me a piece of meat and pointed to the fire. Right, even the simple act of roasting it would help my meager cooking skills. In real life, I had turned into a microwave meal and takeout eater. The only homemade meals available to me were on holidays and what Xin had insisted on making when she was home.
Xin.
“Shazam. Have you ever met anyone you know from real life in here?” I asked.
She nodded then shrugged. I took that to mean yes but that they weren’t close.
“You’ve done player versus player right?” I switched tactics. Maybe she had some advice on how to handle Requiem.
Shazam seemed to have done a little bit of everything based on my experiences with her. She nodded while I went about my poor attempts at cooking. It boiled down to shoving a stick through the meat and hanging it over the flame.
“Do you know how to win against a player you’re not allowed to attack?” I asked. Her achievements were insanely far above my own if she was leading a guild.
She tilted her head while the last of our cooking supplies were wrapped up. Items vanished away into her inventory. Soon Shazam was left with only food in a bowl.
“Right. Well, if you think of anything I’m all ears.” I said.
Shazam went about eating while I pondered other situations. It was perplexing that we were allowed to exit [Camp Grey Skull] with ease. I checked my player map. It was slowly gathering a reasonable amount of data. Though there was still no connection between the old [Haven Valley] information and my current location. [Camp Grey Skull] was already a few days behind us.
“So, should we be letting those Caliburrs get close to each other?” I pointed at the two giant horse rabbit monsters. They were already sniffing each other.
Shazam gave a thumbs down and set her food onto the ground. I watched a series of almost mechanical movements as she stood up and walked towards them clapping loudly. They both perked their heads up to stare at Shazam.
“Need help?” I asked.
She shook her head briefly and proceeded to separate them. One was tied in place and the other bolted to a location twenty feet away.
I tried to scroll through my autopilot’s history even further. The bits of information being presented painted a simple enough picture. According to the computer’s text I had fallen, nearly died, been healed, walked down the mountain and picked up two [Catiburr]s for travel.
The last of my meal was slowly chewed. This was kind of neat. We must have left right after my character exited the glitch space. Oh, that reminded me of another issue. I flipped back through information logs and walls of text from my autopilot time in order to figure out how the bug reporting process had gone.
[Morrigu’s Gift] ground into the dirt. Its staff form was handy for taking my frustrations out on local fauna and geology. Now there were two reasons for reaching a [Porter].
Finally, my tube for sending messages to the Voices started rapidly warming. I set down [Morrigu’s Gift] and tore off one end of the case. A message popped out.
Shazam watched with a passive expression. If her meal was hot she showed no concern. I read the results from James eagerly.
“Damn.” Right, James wanted answers before providing much in the way of information.
Shazam put out one hand towards the letter in my hand. Providing her the letter wouldn’t hurt anything and might also help in completing the quest with her. I forked the parchment over and went about answering James.
My silent babysitter pointed at the response I was writing.
“Oh. I’m writing to my Voice, I chose James.”
She put her thumbs up and did the ‘which’ gesture. Shazam likely wanted more information so I started rambling while trying to scribble out a status up.
“I chose a Voice named James. He’s a large black guy who loves asking questions.” I said.
Shazam gave a thumbs up and did the ‘which’ gesture again.
“He’s nice enough, but there’s always extra hoops to jump through. How is your Voice? Does she at least answer your questions?” I had to figure out how to get Shazam talking about herself.
The response was a thumb down.
“No? She doesn’t answer your questions?” I asked. Shazam shook her head in the negative and then shrugged. She pointed at the quill and parchment in my hands.
“Hold on. I’ll read it.” I wrapped up my message to James and decided to read it out loud to Shazam.
“I’m not sure about this player Requiem Mass. He responds with violence when angered and is fighting against another Traveler. I need to observe them more before figuring out how to overcome my bindings.” The message should be clear enough for James.
Shazam didn’t show any signs of having suggestions on my text. I shrugged and sent the message through the tube. Now would begin another round of waiting. Shazam stared at me for a moment longer and nodded slowly. Moments later she was unrolling the rest of our campsite. One finger pointed towards a cot for me while she went into another tent and closed the flap.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” I said towards her tent. There was no response from her in any fashion.
Being alone in the wilderness had been odd the first few nights. Most of the time I logged off and let the autopilot do its thing. Who would actually sleep in-game? The few times I had tried left me feeling even less rested than before.
An hour later and my Voice finally sent a response.
I scribbled yes down onto another of my endless parchment supply. The next question was trying to figure out exactly what to say to Xin.
I laughed to myself and tried not to feel emotionally torn up inside. She was dead, but she was alive. I was writing her a letter in a fantasy world camped out next to creatures that were both horses and rabbits. Maybe none of this was real, maybe I had finally broken down and disconnected from everything else in the world
More words were put to paper, parts were crossed out and hastily reworded. There was only so much sunlight left and I had to try and tell her everything while trying not to sound desperate. Anything in hopes that she would write me back an equally long letter. Finally, the sun had vanished completely. Even Dusk was passed out next to me looking content from his excursions.
The message was slowly put into the tube. Once again the insanity of my situation raised concern. None of this would have even seemed possible to me if I hadn’t seen William Carver’s autopilot.
What was it that little girl Voice had said? Some people have more of them here than others. Trillium’s Vice President Riley had advised me that Xin was one of the first testers of an ARC. If William Carver and his virtual years within Continue had created someone so lifelike, wouldn’t Xin Yu be that much more real?
What did we define as a person anyway? Was it the sum of their memories? Was there something more?
A box popped up notifying me that my consciousness was being relocated. Part of me welcomed the distraction of Requiem Mass
and his arrogant point of view. It was that or bite my nails for hours wondering exactly what Xin might write and exactly how insane this all was.
Session Thirty Two – To the Letter
Requiem Mass was busy cleaning up the latest round of monsters to be hunted down. He kept counting to himself while muttering about how a billion more were needed in order to make some recipe. Honestly anytime Requiem opened his mouth I started to lose focus.
For three game days, we had been chasing down these zombie monkey creatures and chopping their tails off. My job was either to be bait or something similar. Nothing was working as I had hoped.
“Hold that one! Right now!” Requiem shouted. He pointed one hand at a middle ranked monkey. This one was slightly bigger than the others.
I gave in to the order. This wasn’t the type of thing worth fighting over anyway. Death by monster just meant finally returning to the Hermes body.
“Keep holding him!” The Traveler ordered. One of his hands slipped a sword into its holster and generated a giant trail of flame. It licked across the landscape and tore into the undead monkey I was grappling.
The heat felt warm and mildly pleasant. That was a change from Requiem’s normal idea of discipline. Messages of [Fire Immunity] rippled across my screen as the last of the flames passed and the monkey screamed loudly before collapsing.
“Another one!” Requiem pointed to our next target. These undead had no brains or they would run. “Hold that one! Right now!”
Some skirmishes were easier to find opportunities for Requiem’s murder than others. The system was tracking my attempts happily and the totals were getting high. I had defied him forty-six times. I had followed instructions erroneously sixteen times. Two direct attacks failed to succeed. Efforts to launch the shape-shifting [Echo of Morrigu’s Gift] through his backside ended up as a nearly comical poke.
That event made me laugh myself silly and resulted in another beating. My [Red Imp] character did not have the acting chops of my primary one. Hermes could have probably dropped a tree on Requiem and gotten away with a single ‘oops’. That had worked for me within the resurrection zone.
Continue Online (Part 2, Made) Page 27
