Glitchworld

by Damien Hanson

  Smash. Stained glass sprayed everywhere, and Sigourney kicked the light source away. Behind where the lights had been set up, the tunnel let out into a series of stairways down to the central boss chamber, and beyond it, the cells holding Queeblequop.

  “Come on, Kered, we have a boy to save and a quest to complete. Because we’re Stellarfleet and that’s just what we do!”

  Derek paused. “Oh, I think you joined the wrong game? This one is like space and superheroes. Plus I don’t think your costume is very Stellar Voyage-y.” And, hey, nothing said Prime Directive like ‘let’s kick butt and finish quests.’

  Weird.

  Sigourney smiled. “Just having fun, Kered. Stay in character. We’re superheroes alright, and we’re here to save the world!”

  ***

  Meredith glided through the air in her specialized Prestige Electric Non-polluting Iridescent Skiff. The mostly silver tear-shaped vehicle zipped through the air without sound, throwing spectacular flashes of color to anyone lucky enough to be watching it. The PENIS was the perfect tool, designed to go in hard and finish fast. It was an emergency vehicle for wealthy patrons, and it was well capable of penetrating into even the most difficult of places. Meredith was gonna use hers to go punch someone in the crotch. Her system wasn’t supposed to have errors like this. Her system didn’t have errors like this. And now her system was cock-blocking her and her dream guy.

  Her screens were set to AI, her commands set to continuously search for Derek, and to scroll through the park looking for glitches. One small portion of the onboard system was set aside for autopilot and, without anything else to do, Meredith was scratching lines into the arms of her chair.

  “Who the hell does she think she is? Isn’t it rather convenient that she just happened to find us exactly where we fell - somewhere we didn’t even know where it was? Gah!”

  Meredith pulled out her pad. The PENIS was already well engaged and she didn’t want to chance giving it yet another problem to deal with. And, well, she needed to do something other than drive herself crazy.

  “Sigourney, who the hell are you,” she asked, tapping at the clawed leather of her chair. “Open Prestige Gaming People Finder.”

  Welcome to ANAL: Access Network Administrative Lookup - Type in name, Customer ID, or Government ID and Country of Citizenship here.

  What is her name? Is it really Sigourney? Is that her character name? Frack, she didn’t know.

  “Find first name Sigourney, real name or character.”

  The pad paused, a rotating circle letting her know that it was plowing through a lot of servers and monitoring data to give her the best results possible. She allowed herself a small smile. She knew it was doing the best that could be done because she had built the damn thing herself.

  The pad stopped loading and opened to a plain white screen with bold black lettering.

  Guest name Sigourney not found. Character name Sigourney not found. Should I access in-game conversation audio for crosspoint referencing? Y/N

  “Yes goddamnit! I want to know who this lady is and why she wants to get with Derek!” She briefly took a mental pause and considered the possibilities: one, Sigourney was a revenge play by one of her code writer rivals.

  The device dinged. Audio download complete - would you like to listen? Y/N

  “Does any of it involve a time when I wasn’t present?”

  Negative.

  “Damn. Dead-end. Wait! Can you use the voice file of the woman who called herself Sigourney to make an identification?

  Affirmative. Such a process can be done in approximately three hours. Proceed? Y/N

  One of the screens of the PENIS flashed her, going bright white then dimming.

  Derek Hammings– Level 1 Access, Server 1015, Adventure of the Crand Necropolis. Location Necropolis Citadel, tenth floor.

  Meredith narrowed her eyes, clicked yes, then turned off the autopilot. Time to get back into the game. As the autopilot whirred down, a full-faced helmet dropped from the ceiling. She pulled it down further, over her head, and felt it adjust to her face. The sensation was warm and comfortable as it gently connected to her cerebral interface.

  Welcome back Meredith. Going for a joyride? Safeties on, controls released to user, have a nice day!

  “Take those safeties back down, PENIS. I’m in a hurry and I’ll be flying straight into the game.”

  This action is not recommended and is not covered by Spiromax Protection Extended Warranty. Meredith, you are required to give Administrative Permission to continue.

  “Given. Now let’s go get Derek back!”

  The PENIS slid up and around the modified New Mexico landscape, thrusting through a gap between two standing rocks and then past a bushy orifice in the hill. Meredith reached forward and seized the control shaft even as she tempered her piloting with her own cerebral connection. The PENIS relinquished autopilot to her control and it pushed forward hard, blazing through the desert with desperate release. She scrolled through her craft’s viewscreen, clicking the tab labeled Derek Hammings– Level 1 Access, Adventure of the Crand Necropolis. Location Necropolis Citadel, tenth floor. Come on, where is the button, there’s gotta be a button. There it was, a stick man waving. She ticked it and a location marker pinged on her GPS. She adjusted slightly left, throwing rainbows into the dirt as she did.

  “Alright Meredith,” she said with a nervous gulp. “This is your last chance.”

  Rolling through the HUD she clicked their ongoing game.

  You are entering into Age of the Powered, Galaxies Unknown, Server #113, Space Opera crossbreed. Your vehicle is prohibited from the gamespace. Park at the edge of the zone indicated on your map and proceed into the game.

  “Administration code Meredith Johnston,” she spoke into her mask.

  VOICE AUTHENTICATED. EMERGENCY REQUEST ACCEPTED. NOTICE - UNAUTHORIZED ACTIONS MAY RESULT IN DISCIPLINE OR TERMINATION PENDING ADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW. PROCEED? Y/N

  “Absolutely. Derek, hun, I’m coming for you!”

  ***

  Hard mode engaged just as soon as they made their way down endless amounts of stairs. Derek, (Kered Mingham, he muttered to himself) wondered how the game did it. Either they excavated hundreds of feet into the New Mexico landscape, or somehow those white blocks making up the not-New Mexico portions of this world kept lifting them up while creating new stairs beneath, like an escalator. Essentially, they’d be flat on the hardpan or in some small but sophisticated Prestige building, going precisely nowhere, and yet it felt absolutely real. He hadn’t realized he was holding onto Sigourney’s shoulder until they were near the bottom, nor did he note (in his meta-game reverie) just how achingly aroused she made him.

  Just as his legs really began complaining at him, Sigourney pressed a firm hand against his chest and firmly, silently directed him back into the shadows. They’d reached the bottom level, at freaking last.

  As soon as he squinted, both Survey and Study popped up as options, and he tapped at Study. Since it was a group action, only a single die roll popped up: a 3. Super, he didn’t notice anything.

  No, that wasn’t right. Sigourney’s two dice appeared in his HUD beside his failure (a 2 and a 9), and for a moment he was treated to a view of what she was seeing:

  A large, excavated and ancient room about forty feet cubed, with a number of massive columns sporting torch holders. The guttering torches showed just how many necrolites were in here: about two dozen. These ones were labeled Elite Soldiers, and that gave them two health levels each. Now, with the Pulse cannon, he could take on a single soldier per shot, rather than multiple soldiers on a single roll. Worse, the little green outline of the masked figure was labeled BOSS: Necrolite Cleric, along with six health levels and ??? for special abilities. Not reassuring.

  Sigourney swore under her breath and got real close.

  “You got any Wrecking tools?” she breathed in his ear. God, it tickled. It tickled all the way down to his midsection.

  “Maybe?”
He considered his telekinetic abilities, but there were tons and tons of rock and earth over their heads, so it wasn’t possible to bring the columns down without risking a full on cave in. They would undoubtedly survive (the game wouldn’t really kill them) but their quest target Gripplegrap might not.

  He pulled up his backpack, and sifted around until he came out with a handful of puck-shaped things with little dials and buttons on them. Definitely bombs of some sort.

  “Okay,” she said. “You’ve got telekinesis, right? Any way I can get you to blow me–” she paused, and he had to bend over a little to alleviate the pressure. “–up some necrolites?”

  He pulled up his character sheet, and noted the Wreck of 2. He also had a pair of Plot Points. He could do this.

  “Oh I can blow you–” he told her, and thought he saw the flicker of half a smile appear on her face. He really really hoped it wasn’t his imagination. “–up some necrolites.”

  He armed two of the charges and engaged his telekinetic power: fine manipulation. The pucks, beeping red lights and all, floated up into the air and out into the great hall. A tiny alert appeared in his HUD, but he waved it away. This turned out to be a massive mistake.

  The red flashes in the corner of his periphery informed him that he’d botched a roll, so he gritted his teeth and tapped at it. It had given him the choice between Prowl and Finesse, but he had neither. His two dice had rolled 4 and 9, but because of the zero skills rule, he’d been forced to take the lower. Ugh.

  “Plot Point,” he muttered. “Spend it.”

  The HUD acknowledged his request, but re-rolled a 3 and a 6. Bloody booger-faced butt-kissing–

  A shout came from the assembled Necrolites, who leapt up and away from the two bombs. Derek bore down and pushed at the two explosives faster, so they’d have a chance to destroy whatever the Boss Cleric was up to, and they did explode. Based on the obscuring dust cloud and–

  A six-segment clock appeared on his HUD: Cleric Casts a Spell at the same time that the situation went from Controlled to Risky. Nuts.

  “Get down!” Sigourney shouted, and shoved him to the floor. She fired a series of pulses into the obscuring explosion debris, and got seriously in his face. “Are you hit?”

  For a moment he could see nothing except the green of her eyes. They were so, so beautiful. Either genetics, or the Prestige people had really outdone themselves.

  “Thank you,” he breathed, and settled a hand on her lower back.

  Just above them, the voice of Kayle Jai rang out. “What the f–”

  Chapter 11 - Gary Gruesome and the Stockholm Kid

  Back in high school, Meredith had listened to Derek recount all about how his then-girlfriend, Missy Jenovich, had danced with about five or ten other guys at the Homecoming dance, then asked him for money. She vanished afterwards, and the next time he saw her she was laughing and spending his money with a group made up mostly of football and basketball players. Missy Jenovich, if she hadn’t gotten down and dirty with half the organized sports team members in their high school, was at least cheating Derek out of money.

  At very least.

  She had been cheating him out of basic human decency also, among other things. And Missy Jenovich wasn’t the only one who’d taken advantage of Derek at his dopey, hopeful best. He’d had a string of relationships you could only charitably call girlfriends, both for the ‘girl’ and ‘friend’ part of the word. Mutants at best, or pondscum were more like the terms she’d rather have used. She’d watched these ‘people’ march their stiletto heels all over Derek’s finances, feelings, and sense of self-worth for years. She’d then developed, over the course of her high school acquaintance with Derek Hammings, a pretty good radar for people she liked to call UFO’s: Undeserving Female Obstacles.

  And every time Derek had chosen them over her. He’d gone after the ones who made him feel good at first. He’d tried to play the field up far higher on the social ladder than where he stood, and he got picked up by the really mean ones, the petty and cruel ones, who saw his puppy eyes and his hope, and thought ‘oh, I can really break this one.’

  Sigourney was a top class UFO. Something about her wasn’t right. She couldn’t simply avoid ANAL. There was definitely a record of her somewhere, deep in the black depths of ANAL, and Meredith would find it.

  She logged out of the game, seething. She would still be there, feet from them, but neither would be able to see her. She left the game overlay going, rather than watch the two of them writhe around on a bed of pure white magnetic blocks. She tromped up the stairs rather than watch them suck face, and logged herself into her latest game story folder, scrolling through countless sub folders to attain her goal.

  Oh, so you like to be abused and kicked around, Derek? Is that why you keep letting yourself get abducted by UFOs? Well I can do that too. I can bring in the pain.

  Meredith found her file, petabytes in size, and dragged it into the game code.

  The best damn boss I ever designed, Derek. The guy who kept kicking my ass right before I took off on vacation with you. You are going to feel your teeth kicked through your throat. How is that for abusive, Derek? Do you like me now?

  Instead of the necrolite cleric, she slotted in Gruesome Gary, and renamed him as Necrolite Imperator. Next, she reskinned him with a more necrolite look overtop his half robot, half human body, and gave him a plasma sword just for good measure.

  See how they liked that!

  ***

  Derek caught a glimpse of Kayle Jai’s armored suit before she slammed a finger down on the tablet and winked out of existence. He would’ve leapt up and given her a hug, welcoming her back, but instead plasma blasts lit up the choking gloom and flew in their direction. Sigourney rolled past him, got to a bit of cover, and started blasting back.

  “I move, you cover!” she shouted.

  Derek looked at her blankly.

  “Give me some cover!” she snarled.

  Strange, the Cleric casting a spell clock had disappeared, in a glitchy sort of pixelated way. The glowing green outline surrounding the Boss necrolite Cleric also glitched out (what he could see of it through the wall of dust) and was replaced by something unreadable.

  Kered rolled toward the wall and began popping off shots of his own. Rolls blipped up on his HUD, but he concentrated on helping Sigourney. After a rapid burst of shots, she rolled around the doorway and out of sight.

  The fog of explosion dust was beginning to thin out, and murky forms were advancing toward him, crouched and spitting laser blasts his way. He aimed at them, and again rolled for Hunt. A 3 and a 9, along with a silhouette dropping out of sight, announced that he’d scored another hit.

  He got one more shot off (a success with complication) and then Sigourney catapulted into view. She blasted several of the necrolites, and he helped by blasting another of them. Unfortunately, it was with an 8, because the weapon in his hands overheated and a clock started up, informing him it would be ready to use again in eight pie wedges. The barrel of the thing was red hot and steaming.

  “Steaming pile of crap,” he muttered.

  Sigourney put on her game face, and transformed once again into a whirling dervish of destruction. She’d clearly been here, leveling up, for some time. Why jump into an Access Level 1 quest? It didn’t make a lot of sense, but at this moment, he didn’t question it. He wondered how all this would’ve turned out if she hadn’t been here to save his butt so many times. She ran up one of the columns sideways, did a flip, and took out another several Necrolites with her Pulse Cannon, until it too overheated. Then she used the glowing red barrel to pummel one more of them into the dirt, burning his face and kicking him down before taking her first ever hit, a glancing blow off the bikini armor. This sent her sprinting off, with two blaster pistols instead, shooting as she went.

  Over half their opposition was now lying dead or attempting to crawl away from the terror with the physique of a yoga instructor. Still, about ten Necrolites (now mostly unobscur
ed) had her pinned behind one of the columns. She needed his help.

  Derek hopped up and set another of the charges, for five seconds this time, then tossed one into the biggest necro-cluster. A Hunt roll of 6 did the trick, and while the explosion sent two of them flying, the game informed him that Risky had now given way to Desperate. A new clock bleeped to life, with teensy little words beneath it: Gary the Necrolite Imperator Unleashes his Wrath. Three of the twelve wedges filled in, an electric tingle rising through the air.

  Why make it a twelve segment clock if you were just going to fill up a quarter of it at once? You could just make it four segments and fill in one. Also what-

  “Kind of name is Gary?” He muttered, then spat. The air tasted like burning tires.

  He made his way behind the nearest column and sidearm chucked another grenade at the necrolites. Gary the Badly Named could wait. This time his Hunt roll gave him a 10 and a 2, a full success.

  Ka-blam! Three of the armored henchmen were explodified out of the picture, bloody limbs soaring on crimson arcs across the room.

  “Sweet!” Derek marveled, his avatar Kered agreeing with a hoot.

  “Get that kid!” She shouted at him from across the hall and over the blasting of blasters.

  He was about to protest when he realized he shouldn’t. This was the perfect plot moment… he’d come back and Sigourney would have everything mopped up, or close to, and they’d make a daring escape. With that in mind, he quickly checked his BOOBS to make sure he was headed for the right hallway, and sprinted off. Along the way, he was forced to duck and slide, skidding across pocked and ancient stone into the feet of the last necrolite. He swung his arm up, his adrenaline surging, as he jabbed the muzzle into its neck and then pulled the trigger, drenching the ceiling in brain and skull.

  “Yeah!” he yelled, sucking in the metallic primordial odor of fresh killed alien. His HUD flashed and the game asked him what he wanted to roll. Rolling through his options, he muttered Athletics and ended up with a 7. More clock segments filled in: two on his Pulse Cannon and two on the Gary clock. Behind him came a scrabbling sound. He turned his head and spied a necrolite sprinting away, a hand held to its side as it spilled a trail of crimson.