Fantasy Online_Hyperborea

by Harmon Cooper

  “What about the guys outside?” Ryuk asks, ignoring the ad. “They’ll have to come.”

  “One can come.” Hajime turns to the door. “I’ll tell them to prepare transport.”

  “Got it.”

  Ryuk dislikes the three additional security thugs his brother has assigned to him, not because of any behaviors they exhibit – they are generally quiet and unobtrusive – but because they were assigned to him in the first place. He wants nothing to do with the business that his brother runs for their mother, or their mother runs through Kodai, as he believes it to be. Call them a crime family, call them Yakuza, call them whatever fits the bill – The Matsuzaki family has more enemies than they do friends.

  Ryuk knows that everything he possesses, from his apartment to his state-of-the-art rig, comes from well-executed organized crime.

  His father was a master at it, but he also had a tendency to obliterate anyone who got in the way of his grand dream. This lead to dead friends, severed partnerships, and a couple of full-on battles that took the lives of innocent bystanders. Eventually, the way he handled business led to his death, stabbed in the back by someone he trusted dearly.

  Hence, the protection.

  After Ryuk puts on his thickest black hooded sweatshirt – the one with white fur-lining – he follows Hajime to the elevator and down to the first floor, where two of the security thugs, both in slick black suits, join them. The third security guy stands near the front desk.

  The building’s concierge, a humandroid female with sharp bangs, bows her head once she sees Ryuk. She’s in a pressed white shirt with an elaborate black scarf tied around her neck. On her head is a small cap, put there strictly for kawaii purposes. Even though the lobby is empty, the two that were waiting by the elevator flank Ryuk and the third thug takes the front.

  The entrance to the building slides open, letting in a cold gust of air. A beeping aeros transport vehicle lowers into a tight space in an alley across the street, ready to distribute alcohol to a local izakaya. An old man on a bicycle clatters by; aeros lift and lower, their whooshing a part of the background noise.

  The five quickly move to a waiting vehicle.

  Ryuk is funneled into the backseat and two of the three security guards stay put, just as Hajime instructed.

  (0)__(0)

  With Hajime in the backseat and the hired muscle in the front, the self-driven Uberyota lifts into the air. They don’t have very far to go, and they certainly could have walked there, but that would take them directly through the insanely congested Shibuya Crossing.

  Not worth the risk.

  The aeros settles into its appropriate skylane.

  To the northwest is Meiji Jingu Shrine, a Shinto shrine dedicated to deities of Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken, the Shinto gods hidden away behind latticed doors and hanging screens. East of the shrine is Harajuku, Tokyo’s fashion couture headquarters that has spilled into the upscale district of Omotesando and engulfed the Meijijingu-Mae Station. During the three-minute drive to Yoyogi Park, the passengers are blasted with inner windshield advertisements hawking everything from anti-aging skincare products to new aloe soda beverages at Family Mart convenient stores across Japan.

  Ryuk closes his eyes, only to be bombarded by a shower of cherry blossom petals in an advertisement for a Nagoya Castle excursion. He has now experienced a cherry blossom attack in two worlds, and the oddity and irony are not lost on him.

  The aeros lands at one of the many entrances to Yoyogi Park and the three exit the vehicle.

  A man in rags sits on an overturned bucket at the park’s entrance. He plays a makeshift drum set made from discarded objects that are all painted red. His chin is like that of a baboon; his lips in desperate need of chapstick. A few foreigners have gathered around him, slurping from venti-sized McStarbucks coffees to keep warm.

  To the left of the park’s entrance are the restrooms and a snack stand offering everything from ice cream to salted caramel popcorn. Pigeons peck at the bases of the picnic tables opposite the food stand; a few larger crows scan them from the lower branches of the surrounding Gingko trees, swooping in to steal a morsel as opportunity allows.

  The doors pop open and a high-pitched female voice shouts:

  ~~WELCOME TO YOYOGI PARK!~~ ~~WELCOME TO YOYOGI PARK!~~

  Hajime and Ryuk are silent as they follow a winding trail that has recently been raked.

  The hired thug stays back, far enough away to make it seem as if he isn’t with them, but close enough to provide adequate coverage. A pair of women jogs by them, one foreign and the other Japanese. They speak in English, their exhalations and the steam from their sweating bodies visible in the cold air.

  Ryuk stuffs his hands deeper into the front of his fur-lined sweater. His legs are cold, and he wishes now that he wore a pair of underpants and possibly thicker socks. He looks to Hajime, who seems perfectly at ease in his dark jacket and loose pants.

  “Sometimes it is good to be warm; sometimes it is good to be cold.”

  “Is this my new oblique quote?” Ryuk asks with a grin.

  The humandroid smiles. “Something like that. Let’s take a seat somewhere.” Hajime scans the horizon for a moment. “There looks fine.”

  The two cut through a path peppered by golden mounds of raked Ginkgo leaves. They pass a sign which states that Yoyogi Park was the place of the first airplane flight in Japan in 1910. After that it became a training ground for the Imperial Japanese Army and later still, a residential area for US Forces, then known as Washington Heights, until finally becoming a park proper in the 1970s.

  The 1970s, Ryuk thinks, over one hundred years ago. It’s strange to think of time and its passing, to realize that one really is a drop in the bucket. At nineteen, Ryuk hardly thinks about the future aside from the fact that he is living it daily.

  Ahead, a bench looks out over a small, man-made pond with a bridge cutting through its center. Beyond the pond are perfectly manicured bushes, shaped almost like gumdrops. Hajime takes a seat at the bench and motions for Ryuk to sit next to him. Their single bodyguard stays back about twenty-five meters and puffs on a pollute cigarette.

  “So, now that we’re here, and before we begin our research, I’d like you to think about something for a moment.” Hajime presses his hands into the front of his jacket.

  “Sure, anything.”

  “What are the differences between you and Kodai?”

  Ryuk looks askance at him.

  “Please, I want you to tell me the first things that come to mind.”

  “Um … ” He chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Kodai is taller than I am. He is more like my mother, cunning yet personable when he needs to be, manipulative.”

  “And you’re like your late father?”

  Ryuk almost laughs. “No one is like my father. Kodai wishes he was. He tries to be like him, tries to be intimidating like he could be, but it’s just not the same.”

  “Okay, what else is different about you and your brother? Think differences here.”

  He smirks ever-so-slightly. “Well, there’s the fact that he’s evil, or at least has become so.” There was a time when Kodai was kinder to Ryuk. It was over a decade ago, maybe more, but they used to be much closer. They dove into digital worlds together, went to Proxima events in Akihabara, played baseball, watched the same movies over their iNet at the same time – the same things most Japanese boys did. Their age difference of eight years never stopped them from being close.

  “So you think he’s evil?”

  “I know what my family does, what my father did and what my brother and mother continue to do,” Ryuk says in a low voice. “I also know that I have benefited greatly from my family’s actions, but I’m allowed an opinion and yes, I think he has become evil, yes. Moving illegal pollutes, the sex trade, extortion – there must be an end to it.”

  Now it’s Hajime turn to laugh. “You really should read up more on the history of humanity. But back to the differences, what else i
s there, aside from physical and philosophical?”

  “Well, he’s been to college, and fuck if he doesn’t make a big deal out of it.”

  “And he wants you to go back?”

  “Yes, but I want to go a technical school in the Proxima Galaxy.”

  Hajime nods. “Is there any that way you can think of to emphasize this particular difference between you two?”

  “Um … ” Ryuk watches a crow land in small pile of golden leaves pushed up against a tree trunk. The crow strikes with its beak, nabs something, and launches itself skyward. “The quote doesn’t really fit this situation, if you ask me. The only way to emphasize it, I think, would be to acknowledge it.”

  “True, but there may be something more if you scratch at the surface.” Hajime again scans the horizon. The look on his face is indecipherable. “Sometimes the best way to emphasize something is to take a closer look at it. Only then can you actually see and understand the true differences, differences that may prove advantageous to you. Let’s move on to the events of yesterday, the attacks. Humandroids communicate on a network not available to humans, even though humans think they are monitoring it. Were you aware of this?”

  “Not really. I mean, I knew humandroids communicated in various ways, but I don’t know the extent.”

  “We communicate through a combination of ten global languages that vary with each sentence based on a randomly generated language selector program, the results are then encrypted, put into Ifá – the system of divination used by the ancient Yoruba people of Nigeria – and which then generates binary values in single and double lines. Only then is a message transferred. A readout would look like chicken scratch to a human.”

  Ryuk looks around. “Should you be telling me this?”

  “You asked, and this is common knowledge to those in the industry. There really is nothing they can do about it. If they squashed it, another variation would appear within minutes. If they decoded that one, a new one would appear, and so on and so forth. We are more like you than you may imagine. As with humankind – if there is a will, there is a way.” Hajime turns to Ryuk and looks at him with his dark eyes. “All this to say, I was able to reach out to some humandroids that work for the private American intelligence company. There are numerous cases of these Proxima-based attacks happening, as I showed you yesterday, but strangely enough, all the attacks thus far have originated from Tritania.”

  (0)__(x)

  Ryuk considers Hajime’s revelation for a moment, then asks, “So none of the attacks originate from other Proxima Worlds?”

  “Not a one, oddly enough. Perhaps even more oddly, all of them have been against resetters. Some of the stories are quite horrific.”

  “Really?”

  “I watched one feed of a man in Boise, Idaho screaming about his arms disintegrating. He was using a kitchen knife as some type of divination object and his family called the police. He continued to scream and brandish the knife, did not comply with the police’s instructions and was subsequently neutralized when he advanced on them. In Singapore, a teen jumped from his apartment building and fell to his death, livestreaming the moment and calling for his pet dragon. It has had cultural affects as well. In Dubai a woman walked out of her apartment building naked and ranting in garbled Thulean. She was killed by her younger brother for shaming the family. There are countless stories like this.”

  “Damn, that’s terrible!”

  “The Proxima Company has declined to comment publicly on the matter, but that’s to be expected, especially with all the legal protection corporations now have in America from slander, lawsuit, and investigation.” He turns to Ryuk. “And I don’t think this is the end of it, regarding your hallucinations. The Singaporean teen reportedly had several of these digital hallucinations before inadvertently taking his life.”

  “So they’ve all come from Tritania, and they’ve all been resetters. This is big, really big. We need, I need, to find Tamana.”

  “I don’t know enough about the inner workings of the dreamworld to know who, in the game, in Tritania, would be able to do anything about it. I agree with you that rescuing Tamana is a way forward, but as I said, I can only do so much from my end due to the fact I can’t dive with you.”

  “The only people I know who could maybe do something about it would be Empress Thun, who lives on Polynya, the second floating continent, or even better, the Sage of Gotha, Tritania’s NVA seed,” says Ryuk.

  “Neuronal visualization algorithmic seed.”

  “That’s right, the root of the world, but the Sage is hard to reach. It resides on the third floating continent, Ultima Thule, and I can’t currently travel there.”

  “I’m aware of the layout of Tritania. I’ve pored over maps and listened to what you’ve told me.” Hajime’s eyes light up as he asks, “Why do you actually go there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s the point of joining a virtual entertainment world aside from entertainment?”

  “To escape,” Ryuk says firmly, “I go there less for entertainment and more to just escape.”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe you go there for the same reason NPCs are trying to come here? Think about it in terms of today’s lessons.”

  Ryuk snaps his fingers. “Maybe they are trying to come here to … um, experience our world.”

  “If that’s the case, it seems as if they are going about it the wrong way, though.”

  “The wrong way?”

  Hajime stares fondly at the pond for a moment. A wind blows up, rippling the top of pond in front of them. “Is your iNet feed disconnected?”

  “No.”

  “Disconnect it and disable all recording programs.”

  “Um, all right.” Ryuk completely signs off iNet. It shuts down quickly and a prompt appears, asking him if he’d like to schedule a reboot or do so manually. He chooses the manual option.

  Hajime waits a moment and says, “My creator, Dr. Richard Hewman, told me something that took place in the late 2050s. It’s called R-diving.”

  “R-diving?”

  “A female researcher with limited resources was able to R-dive, reverse-dive, an NPC into a humandroid’s body.”

  Ryuk gulps. “An NPC into a humandroid’s body? That’s crazy … ”

  “I believe she was able to do more than that.”

  “Who is she?”

  “This I don’t know. Dr. Hewman never revealed her name to me.”

  “Was it sustainable?”

  “It was, for quite some time too, and there’s more to that story, but the point of the matter is this – it may be easier for whatever is trying to come here to come through a humandroid, rather than a human. Do you see, Ryuk? Do you see where I’m going with this?”

  He nods. “It would be really bad if NPCs start taking humandroid bodies. There could be war.”

  “Exactly.” Hajime places his hands back in his pockets and returns his focus to the pond. “It would most definitely change the game.”

  Chapter 16: The gun has no trigger

  Ryuk hardly pays attention on his return home, so focused he is on what’s happening in Tritania. The small viewing screen at the bottom of his pane of vision flashes, letting him know that his avatar has gained one more level through auto-leveling. His guildmates have made it back to the entrance of the Jatla Forest, all set to respawn at the outskirts of Aramis.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” Hajime asks as Ryuk kicks off his shoes.

  “I’m good, Hajime, thanks.”

  “If you give me a few minutes, I will make a couple of onigiri.”

  “I’m fine!” he calls out over his shoulder. Ryuk slides to a halt in front of his bedroom door, turns to his humandroid guardian, and gives him a respectful bow. “Thank you for all you’ve done today.”

  Once he’s in his room, he tosses his sweater onto his bed, ignores an advertisement coming to him over iNet, and plops down into his haptic chair. The seat comes al
ive; he places the NV Visor over his head and a prompt asks him where he’d like to spawn. He chooses his guild’s current location and suddenly, he’s sitting at a small roadside diner outside the city of Aramis. Team stats appear and he swipes them away:

  Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 8 Ballistics Mage

  HP: 231/270

  ATK: 71

  MATK: 94

  DEF: 54

  MDF: 37

  LUCK: 7

  FeeTwix Fajer Level 12 Berserker Mystic

  HP: 212/336

  ATK: 89

  MATK: 27

  DEF: 63

  MDF: 32

  LUCK: 13

  Hiccup Level 10 Shield Thief

  HP: 303/425

  ATK: 70

  MATK: 13

  DEF: 101

  MDF: 48

  LUCK: 9

  Zaena Morozon Level 12 Brawler Assassin

  HP: 229/357

  ATK: 91

  MATK: 8

  DEF: 88

  MDF: 24

  LUCK: 14

  “You’re back!” FeeTwix says as he notices an icon flicker over the head of Ryuk’s avatar.

  The Viewpoint Café sits atop a hillock on the outskirts of the Hyperborean capital city of Aramis. The café’s rotunda offers a stunning view of the dream-like and other-worldly architecture that is Aramis’ financial district, with its sky-high banking and trade buildings.

  The famed city is Tritania’s mercantile center both in-game and in the real world through interaction with the stock market. In the last fifteen years, the city has expanded outward from the city center, and riverfront property along the Bonsor River has been gobbled up by high-end retail stores, tres chic restaurants, and over-priced condos. Property prices in the nouveau trendy district are only slightly behind those in the city of Porthos’ famous Bohemian district, Valhalla.