by Rick Scott
The dev’s had a great sense of humor sometimes.
I see an oversized bumblebee and focus on it to makes its stats appear.
Bee
Level: 1
A busy bee. Take too long to kill it and you might end up with a nasty sting!
Elemental Affinity: Wind
I run over to it and engage my attack and I go from feeling free, to feeling like I need Mutt and Jeff again. My world slows and I feel like I’m pushing through sand. The wooden sword in my hand feels like it’s suddenly made of lead. The bee hits me.
-2 HP
And then hits me again.
-2 HP
My HP bar is reading 16/20 HP now and I still haven’t attacked yet.
What the heck?
-2 HP
I strain with all my might, my brain sending signals, but my body won’t comply.
Just like in real life.
-2 HP
I strain some more and am finally able to make a swing.
You miss the bee.
-2 HP
-4 HP Critical hit!
My HP bar turns red and flashes: 4/20 HP
-2 HP
Bee uses sting.
-8 HP
You are defeated.
What?!
I spend the rest of the night dying to level 1 mobs and trying to get a different result. I even try a mage class and the same thing happens when I try to cast a spell. I call tech support and get the bad news that the problem is on my end. They suggest I try a non-combat class or a different shard altogether, one that doesn’t rely on neural synchronization for dynamic interaction. Which is a fancy way of saying, our system is not optimized for the neurologically impaired.
I’m crushed and defeated, I break down in tears. The thing I waited so long to experience and so wanted to enjoy. I couldn’t. And it’s the same way I feel now.
I have one of the most coveted items in the game.
I have a scroll of Shadow Copy.
And I can’t use it.
Because I’m a gimp.
Chapter 9 Reality Bites
After a half hour delay, my brother and I exit the elevator and enter into the main hub. The air down here stinks and the lighting sucks, but I think it’s meant to be that way. It looks like a city in perpetual night. Glowing holograms for seedy bars, and other activities you can’t readily achieve without bodily or chemical interaction, line the streets. They stretch between tall buildings that reach into the darkened sky and then disappear into nothing. It’s almost hard to believe that machines built all this: Builders. Although no one’s seen one for over a hundred years they say.
The stink comes from people. The homeless variety. They swarm us as we exit the elevator car, old men and women mostly in clothes that smell like urine and feces. They hold out disposable credit chips in their dirty hands, wanting us to fill them. My neural plug could allow me to connect to the chips and download my credits to them. It’d be as easy as swiping my finger, but I don’t.
There are too many of them, and we don’t have the credits to spare.
Mike pushes through the pack, something he looks extremely comfortable doing and I follow him as best I can with my crutches. He actually waits for me this time and shields me from the beggars as we head further into the neon lit city.
As we leave the vagrants behind a chill runs through me.
That could be us at any moment.
There are no landlords in the habitats. If you fail to pay your rent on time, the services simply stopped working. No power, no water, no food. No air. You eventually had to leave or suffocate. They would even pump in a bit of C02 if you needed extra encouragement to vacate the premises. Once empty the hatch would then seal and await access from a new tenant who could pay the rent. Or sometimes people just died in there.
That’s when an actual person from the municipality would show up; one of the few jobs that still needed to be done in the real world. They’d collect the bodies and take them down to the vats for recycling. I didn’t want to really think about that. It’s the place we’ll all end up one day. And my mom could end up there sooner than I’d like if I don’t do something about it.
As we pass an alleyway, I smell food cooking, like grilled meat. I give a glance down the narrow passageway and see a trash barrel set on fire with some kind of animal skewered with metal rods hanging over it. I can’t identify what kind of animal it is, but it’s either a cat or a very large rat.
Either possibility turns my stomach.
We press on through the crowds, passing prostitutes, drug dealers and addicts and the thought of my mom falling unconscious down here has me freaking out. I bump into some guy in his fifties and he pushes me back so hard I fall to the ground my crutches clattering beside me.
“Watch it, gimp!”
“Hey!” Mike is on him in an instant, punching the guy in the head. “Don’t you touch my brother!”
The guy flails with the hit, but then swings back around with a knife in his hand. “Argh! You little punk!”
My heart’s in my throat! “Mike!”
I needn’t have worried. Mike lands a downward kick to the old guy’s waist that stomps him right into the ground. Mike then stands over him, brandishing his closed fists like weapons.
“Beat it, old man,” Mike says coolly. “Or I’ll send you to the vats.”
Mike’s words scare me just as much as they do the guy, who scrambles off the grimy street and then disappears into the crowd. Mike then reaches down to help me up. “Let’s go.”
For the second time today, I’m glad I’m with my big brother.
And that he’s on my side.
Where and when did he learn to fight like that?
We travel another block or so and reach the hospital.
It’s more like a clinic really and is about the size of a small diner. I can see through the bar covered windows that it’s brightly lit inside with white tiled floors and shiny sterile looking equipment. I expected the place to be crammed full of people, with huge waiting lines, but there is no one to be seen. When we approach the doors I understand why.
The doors beep and demands an entry fee of 5 credits each.
Guess there was no such thing as free access to healthcare down here—literally.
We pay the amount and when I check our account balance my heart nearly stops.
Your balance is ….. 187 Cr
What the heck? Where is all our money!?
I’m in full panic mode when we walk inside. I see my mom reclined in one of the self-service auto-med booths, dozing. A middle aged nurse who’s dressed in green scrubs greets us from behind a desk. “Do you need any assistance?”
She says it in a way that translates into: ‘please don’t say yes’.
“We’re just here to collect our mother,” Mike says and we walk past the nurse to see my mom.
The auto-med booths normally stand upright, but her one is tilted at 45 degrees. The double transparent doors are shut and there seems to be some kind of mist in there. Her eyes look droopy when she sees us, but she gives us a smile.
“Look at my two boys, all grown up.” Her voice comes out through a tiny speaker on the outside of the booth. “I wish your dad could see you both.”
Her statement opens another deep wound in my soul. One that I haven’t quite dealt with yet. I was too young to remember my dad and my mom has never really told me how he died. Other than he was at work when it happened.
“Why’d you go out on your own, mom?” Mike jumps into her first. “You need to take Ryan with you if you’re going to leave the house. And you shouldn’t be coming this far down anyway. What are you doing down here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says sarcastically. “Are you the parent now?”
She chuckles as Mike gives an exasperated sigh.
“Are you okay mom?” I ask. “What happened?”
She waves a hand toward the interface at the side of the booth. “Look for yourself.”
&
nbsp; I wave through the holographic screen to see that she’s being treated for fluid buildup in her lungs. The service is set to last for another 45 minutes and then I see that our account has already been charged.
1000 credits!?
No question of where our money went now.
I feel angry for a second. How could she have been so irresponsible? I’m about to say something but hold it back. Now is not the time to be complaining about money. Not when it just saved my mom’s life. The thought gets me checking through the rest of the diagnosis and treatment options.
Detected: Stage IV bronchogenic carcinoma
Treatment options:
Nano surgical reconstruction 3,575,000.00 Cr
Cloned Lung Transplant 1,850,000.00 Cr (2 months Delivery)
Prosthetic Lung Transplant 525,000.00 Cr
Donor Lung Transplant 57,000.00 Cr (12 to 24 months Delivery)
I focus on option number three and then the paltry 187 credits in our account. It’s 50/50 shot at survival at best, but still the best option we got. And we have no way to afford it. An abyss of despair opens up inside of me. I almost feel like crying and probably would have if my mom and Mike were not there.
“Sweetie,” my mom says to me. “Mike and I need to talk. Do you mind?”
I nearly glare at both of them. Pulling the adult card on me again?
“Fine,” I say curtly and hobble off to one of the medi-booths at the far end of the clinic, well out of earshot. I can still see them, though, and I wonder what it is they’re discussing. Could it be about me? Mom’s conditions? Finances?
The last thought has me checking out bank account again.
187 credits.
If only I could use that darn scroll. Even defeating something half as tough as Gruzug would probably land me 50k a kill. And I’d be able to solo it. Not splitting it with anyone. I could save our whole family in a month.
I had to find a way.
I look to the booth. I’ve never actually checked how much it would cost to cure my condition. But I know it’s possible. I take another quick peek toward Mom and Mike to make sure they’re not looking and then slip into the booth.
“Diagnose,” I say.
The system scans me and comes back with:
Detected: Mild Paraplegia (legs)
Treatment options:
Nano surgical reconstruction 575,000.00 Cr
What the heck?
Only one option? And the price is even more than my mom’s artificial lung!
My dreams are shattered in a harsh punch of reality.
I had hoped that maybe there would have been a cheap option. Like an implant or something for around 10k. Something I could bust my butt mining for and pay off once I achieve the dream. But 575k? No way. If I had that much money I could just pay for my mom’s operation outright.
I feel sick to my stomach.
I find myself longing for my rig and the comfort of my virtual world.
Even though I know it can’t solve any of my problems now.
Mike was right.
It was just a stupid game.
* * *
We leave the clinic as a family and then take the elevator back up to L32C. I’m not in a talkative mood. No one else seems to be either. We get home and we spend 15 credits total on a meal of mushy gray slop.
I say goodnight and retreat to the cramped confines of my bedroom.
Alone, I ponder what I can do next.
I need to get real like Mike said. Quit the game and find a real job.
The uneasiness in my system edges me toward putting on my rig, and the escape from reality, that it will bring. I’m donning it before I even know it and a soothing dose of endorphins washes through my system as the menu screen opens.
But there is a hollowness to it now; the mirage of possibilities and opportunities has been dissipated by the realities of my own limitations.
And by reality in general.
I sigh and wonder if Gilly is still online.
I check and see that she isn’t, but I do see a couple of messages from her.
From: Gilly
Yo Recce! Where did you go? You’re just standing here doing nothing.
From: Gilly
Oh, well. Guess you got disconnected or something. ): I had to leave to cash in my ores. Message me when you get back! We got to talk about this Shadow Copy thing!! : D
You’re going to be a Dodge Tank baby!!!
From: Gilly
I got to log now, but I’m going to do some research for you. I’m going to figure out what you need to do to become a ninja! ^_^
See you tomorrow! : D
-Gilly
I feel suddenly angry and disgusted. Become a ninja? How stupid did that sound? Plus Gilly didn’t have problems like me. She wouldn’t understand. I haven’t really told her about my condition. She only thinks I like to mine like her; by choice. But what would telling her the truth matter anyway? Even if she did know, there still wasn’t anything she or I could do about it.
I open the messenger and type her back furiously.
To: Gilly
Don’t bother. I’m not using the scroll. In fact, I think I’m taking a break from the game for a while. Bye.
I briefly re-read what’s I’ve written and it comes back sounding harsh and bitter. But it’s the same way I feel. So I hit the send button and then log off.
* * *
I think I doze off for an hour or so before my restless thoughts pull me into full consciousness. There’s something nagging at the back of my brain. Something I should be doing, or should have done, but I can’t figure out what it is. I think maybe it’s to look for a real job, so I pull my rig back on to start looking through the classifieds.
I see that Gilly still hasn’t logged on yet and I’m half relieved to not have a response to that message I sent her. Maybe that was a good thing. Distance from the game was probably a good thing at this point. And distancing myself from Gilly would help with that.
Ironically most of the jobs I see advertised are for in-game stuff.
People looking for help with certain quests or wanting specific classes to join their guild.
Even mining quotas for special ore deliveries.
Oh snap! That was it!
I’d already made the decision to quit Crystal Shards, but there were still 8 or so stacks of silver ore lying on my character. Plus a stack of HQ’s as well. I check the market boards. With the rush on silver at the moment, a normal stack was going for 200 credits and the HQ’s 500. That was the rent nearly paid right there!
I had to hurry up though. I needed to get my ores on the board, before the market got flooded and the prices dropped down to 50 credits a stack again. I log into Crystal Shards and pay for only one hours’ worth of play time, because that’s all I can really afford. I set my character to spawn in Nasgar and wait for the world to load.
I expect to see myself reappear in Gruzug’s cavern where I was disconnected, but I instead find myself outside the mines on the Steppes of Andor.
What the heck?
And I’m buck naked.
What?!?!
I check my inventory and see everything is gone! What happened? And then it dawns on me. When my brother disconnected me, the system must have glitched and left my character logged in. I must have gotten killed by one of the trolls wandering in the cavern and the timer ran out and I automatically respawned.
My heart rate increases.
How long has it been since I died???
I check the logs and the timers. Do a quick calculation.
I check it twice just to make sure it’s correct but pray that it’s wrong.
The time I’ve spent away from the game comes biting back at me like a great white shark. I can’t believe this. I’m about to lose everything!
I have less than 8 minutes to collect my corpse!
Chapter 10 Corpse Run
I hit sprint and make a mad dash for the mines. I know I’m going agro every troll in
there, but if I can run past them fast enough and make it back to my tombstone, maybe I can get my gear right before they all kill me again. But at least then it would reset the timers.
I run past the first troll and the huge monster roars at me before giving chase.
The ground trembles beneath my feet as it runs behind me.
I run by another troll and agro it as well.
My stamina bar finally deletes and I go from a sprint to a jog.
Oh crap…
The trolls, slow as they are, are gaining on me.
I agro a third one, a fourth.
My stamina bar is still filling but I hit sprint again to use what few points have returned. I sprint for about a second and then slow to a jog again.
One of the trolls gets close enough to swing its massive club at me and I’m killed in an instant. I hit respawn and appear outside the mines, but with another full tank of gas. This time I jog into the mines and conserve sprint until I see the first troll.
Unfortunately I see bunch of them!
The same ones that were chasing me are now all clustered together in one big group.
I hit sprint and try to run through them.
Splat!
I respawn and try again.
Dead…
I check the timers and see I have 6 minutes left.
Crap!
I get desperate and do a yell.
***Reece: Can someone help me get my corpse from Silvertooth mines please!!! D:
I waste another half minute yelling to no avail.
I do a player search in the mines to make sure I’m not screaming to an empty zone. I can see there are at least twenty other players in there. But none of them are answering. None of them care.
I feel suddenly like one of those beggars outside the elevator car. Desperate and ignored. And if I don’t get to my corpse soon, I could literally be one by the end of the month!
