The Goddess Quest

by Lawrence Ambrose

  "Mom?"

  Her mom sat up straighter and turned woodenly to face her. "Yes, dear."

  "I'm going in to see Professor Martin, per your suggestion."

  Alex waited for her to say she'd drive her in, but her mom merely regarded her with a bland smile.

  "That's good, dear. Have a nice visit."

  Weird. Alex turned away with a shake of her head. In the garage, the Prius and her dad's sporty Audi waited side-by-side. Interesting that they'd reversed positions. Since her father had died, she'd driven the Audi six or seven times, and not at all in the last two years. Not worth the trouble with Brandon the Chauffeur available at all hours. They'd talked about selling it, but despite Alex's okay, and her dislike of the car, her mother had dragged her heels. The Audi's manual shift had always confounded her, so it seemed rather paradoxical that she took the trouble to move the cars while all the crap with her daughter was going down.

  The UCJ computer science building was less than four miles away, but the damn fatigue struck again two miles out. Not quite narcolepsy – she could will her eyes to stay open and her thoughts to cohere – but it was as sudden and overwhelming as the drowsiness after a large late meal and a stiff drink. Not something that she practiced often, but it had happened.

  She pulled into the University Mall parking lot...at least it was supposed to be the Mall...but, wait a minute. This wasn't the University Mall. This was Walmart! But there were no Walmarts in Jefferson! The city council had expressly forbidden any food or retail giants within city limits.

  Alex leaned back in her seat and the world went hazy. Within the haziness lurked the possibility of misperception, even hallucination. She drifted. But when she opened her eyes, the bloated food/retail monster remained. Alex sucked in a breath and stumbled out of the Prius toward the nearest entrance. The typical ill-dressed obese to semi-obese clientele swarmed through its doors mixed with mostly slim students. A Sacramento Bee newspaper stand caught her eye. The front-page Bee headline read: President Vetoes Bill Permitting Expanded DARE Powers.

  That stopped Alex in her tracks. While it wasn't unheard of major real-life newspapers to cover noteworthy Verse events, they usually relegated the stories to the back pages or entertainment sections. She couldn't imagine why the Bee would headline a story like that. She pulled out her wallet, which of course had no change – just a bunch of twenties and a debit card. The 250K in her Real bank wouldn't do her much good here.

  "I got it," said a young bearded man, probably a UCJ student, plunking a pair of quarters into the machine. He helped himself to a paper and handed her one. "Thank God Ventura's standing up to those people. The last thing we need is some monstrous bureaucracy spying on everyone."

  "You're against mass-surveillance?" Most students she knew were vastly more concerned about correct pronoun labels and multi-gender rights than increases in government power. In fact, they were more likely to protest in favor of increasing government power. Mentions of Edward Snowden these days were likely to produce an indifferent shrug or a "Edward who?"

  "Sure." The dude gave her a puzzled look. "Who isn't?"

  Alex's gaze was equally puzzled. "You're a libertarian?"

  "Nope. Liberal."

  "A liberal opposed to government expansion? You're not Glenn Greenwald, are you?"

  The guy cracked a smile. "Not last time I checked. You make it sound as if being a liberal and opposed to mass-surveillance is some kind of paradox."

  "Ah..."

  "Aren't you opposed to government mass-spying?"

  "God, yes." Alex swallowed her incredulity. After all, people were individuals – everyone was different. Except for that one Monty Python guy. She made a helpless motion to the store. "How long has Walmart been here?"

  "I don't know. Since I was a kid. Twelve or thirteen years ago?"

  Alex braced a hand against the paper vending machine.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm not sure. Just a little confused, I guess."

  "Would you want to get some coffee and talk about it?" The dude's smile broadened, cutting a toothy swath in his beard.

  Alex stared dazedly into the guy's earnestly shining brown eyes – and the truth slapped her hard upside the head. This was not the Real. Maybe you could explain away everything else, but only in a fake reality would a cute stranger hit on her.

  "Ah, um...I actually have an appointment," she muttered.

  "Okay." He dipped his head amiably. "Have a good day, then."

  Back on the road, the newspaper lying on the seat beside her, Alex wound her way into the Jefferson campus, using the parking access card in the glove compartment to run the gate-gauntlet and the handicap sticker to park in front of the computer science building.

  So the big secret is that I'm living in the Verse. Alex puzzled through it as she entered the building en route to Professor Martin's office. She glimpsed her reflection in a window and paused, examining herself critically. A pretty much perfect likeness. Uggh. That was going to have to change. If she was stuck here, she'd need to make some physical upgrades to her avatar.

  She continued down the hall and her analysis. The implications were rather obvious: she was consigned to VR because her real body was still in a state of disrepair, reflected by her periodic sleeping fits. They must have me on some form of life-support/VR connection. That was where it got truly interesting, because apart from science fiction – and some sketchy rumors/speculation in the real-world – she'd never heard of such a thing existing.

  Alex thought she had it mostly worked out by the time she reached Wendell Martin's office. It was a slightly disturbing realization, but not panic-inducing. After all, the Verse was her favorite place. In some ways, the Real felt more like a second home.

  When she entered her professor's office, Wendell was standing with his back to her, gazing out the room's sole window. He turned to her with a smile tinged with apology.

  "Hello, Alex," he said. "Any trouble getting here?"

  "I had to take a break for a moment at the new Walmart."

  "Ah. So you've probably pieced together where you are now."

  "Looks like my Omniverse life preservation policy is paying off. I'm in a Vanilla Sky situation."

  "That's correct."

  "How long have you been able to integrate life suspension with VR?"

  "Not long at all. In fact, you're precisely the second person we've tried it on. One of our chief executives, Marion Bruner, suffered a massive heart attack about a year ago. We placed him in a semi-cryonic state within a special chamber that doubles as a life support and VR system. You're in the same kind of unit – what we call a Life Extension Virtual Reality Immersion Chamber or LEVRIC."

  "How's he doing?"

  Professor Martin's smile lost some of its luster. "I'm afraid he didn't make it. Aside from technical issues in preserving his physical function – fueled in large part by his age, 68, and his obesity – he experienced extreme psychological difficulties in his unaccustomed environs. Unlike you, a life-long veteran of VR, Marion was not a VR aficionado. Many of us suspect that his extreme disorientation, verging on insanity at times, ultimately proved to be his undoing."

  "Too bad. How long did he last?"

  "Less than two weeks."

  "How long have I been here?"

  "197 days. But today is only your second day since fully regaining consciousness." Professor Martin studied her with his usual cherubic impassivity. "How are you doing so far?"

  Alex shrugged. "Aside from feeling like I'm swimming half-under water, not bad. It's kind of weird to think of my body floating in a vat somewhere, but fuck it. If you can keep it going, I'm happy being here. My mom didn't have to be all coy about it. I'm like that rabbit they threw into the briar patch."

  "I suspected you might feel that way. But after Marion, our psychologists speculated that a gradual introduction to the new reality might've softened the trauma, so we implemented some of their suggestions with you."

  Alex laughed,
a bit more glibly than she felt. "Nice try. I would've seen through it sooner if my brain wasn't so sluggish." Her laugh ended on an easy note. "How much longer will that go on, do your doctors think? Assuming my body doesn't implode."

  "They believe your condition is stable, and are working hard to encourage further healing. Their best guess is that you'll improve steadily in terms of cognitive function. And when your body catches up..."

  "I'll be free to return to being a fucking gimp in the real world. Woo-hoo."

  Wendell Martin gave her a dry smile. "In the meantime, I may have a project you'd be interested in, when you're feeling more yourself."

  "What's that?"

  "It actually wasn't my or my partners' idea. Oddly enough, it came from within the Verse itself, from someone, or perhaps some thing, that resides there permanently."

  Alex could only think of one "thing" that fit that description. A spurt of adrenaline cleared some of the cobwebs in her head.

  "Are you saying what I think you're saying? AlphaOmega has thought up a project for me?"

  "Well, more a challenge. And it prefers Albert Owen, by the way. Albert Aristotle Owen."

  Alex let out a short laugh. "Is that a joke?"

  "We're not sure. In any case, we received a message from it – or perhaps him, given the choice of name – concerning you. It seems he was impressed by your play in the Goddess Quest and wishes to challenge you to a duel."

  Alex regarded him flatly. Professor Martin folded his hands, seeming disinclined to elaborate.

  "You're serious?" she said.

  "Utterly."

  "Is that allowed? Is AO allowed to participate directly in a game?"

  "Not without our permission. Which he has requested. We're inclined to grant it, if you're interested."

  Alex sat back in her chair. Could this get any fucking stranger?

  "Is AO – 'Albert Owen' – sentient?"

  "We're not sure. We have varying opinions about that. Though this challenge does, I think, tilt the debate in favor of self-awareness. We have not been able to locate any programming, direct or indirect, that would account for that kind of initiative."

  Alex nodded slowly. "Huh," she said.

  Another wave of fatigue washed over her, but withdrew before her virtual eyelids could slam shut. Wendell Martin gazed at the wall over her shoulder, as he so often did in real life, apparently finding the same fascinating things to study. She returned the favor, staring over his head out the window where a red squirrel scampered up the trunk of a walnut tree.

  "What are the terms of this challenge?" she asked. "I assume AO's powers would be zeroed out somehow."

  "That was part of Albert's proposition. He would have no more knowledge of the challenge puzzles – or powers – than you would. The usual default status would be in effect. We – the OmniCorp team – would design the contest."

  Alex was struggling to tamp down the anticipation that was beginning to burn in her. What could more definitely establish her status as one of the greatest players of all time than defeating what was in essence the God of the Verse? The heady lure of it sucked her in like the vortex of a tornado.

  "Can you guarantee it couldn't access information?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "Who or what will perform his tasks while he's in reduced form?"

  "He will. One of he's." Wendell's smile held a helpless edge. "In effect, he will give birth to another version of him – a son, if you will, made into virtual flesh. Rather biblical in overtones."

  "Minus the ability to perform miracles, unlike the biblical version, I assume."

  "Yes. Exactly. Or that's the theory."

  "You don't seem sure about a lot of things right now, Professor Martin."

  "I know." He smiled brightly, suddenly, with the impishness of a young boy. "And I must admit I'm relishing the uncertainty. At my age, a sense of wonder is a treasured and rare event."

  Several seconds of silence that Alex thought had a reverent edge passed.

  "Well, Miss Mills," said Wendell Martin, leaning forward, looking into her eyes. "Are you in?"

  Alex smiled. "You better fucking believe it."

  DO VR programs dream of virtual sheep?

  An idle question as Alex drifted up from yet another unscheduled sleep, slumped on a bench outside the Computer Building. Her conversation with her esteemed professor had initially energized her and then worn her out. All the vexing implications and possibilities. Taking on a virtual god. Living in a vat as a half-corpse. Wendell Martin hadn't offered too many details about what he called her "Life Extension Virtual Reality Immersion Chamber (LEVRIC)." And she hadn't pressed him. Better not to dwell on her half-corpsedness.

  Alex had been eager to get home, but fatigue had ambushed her and she'd chosen the bench outside the Computer Science building to rest. Next thing she knew she was dreaming. Not about virtual sheep, but about being back in the Real, schlepping through the park – something stinging her in the back, reaching around, feeling a tranquilizer needle. Dr. Lanson pinning her to the ground, leering down at her. "This time you're mine, cripple-cunt!"

  Alex woke up wondering if "cripple-cunt" was a metaphor. She hoped so.

  Brad and Brandon approached her. She wasn't sure if they'd inserted nearby or traveled here from somewhere. Absurdly, Bran was still in his wheelchair. Bradley was clutching a rose. They stopped in front her, a few feet spacing between them, maintained perhaps by Brandon's glaring sideways glances.

  "Hey," said Bran. "How are you doing?"

  "Not bad for a vegetable."

  Alex rose slowly and wrapped her arms around Brandon's neck, his bristle abrading her cheek. He held on long enough that in real life her back would've developed a crick.

  "You scared the shit out of me, A," he said in a choking voice.

  "That makes two of us."

  She straightened up, blinking back tears. Bradley stepped in, extending his rose. His wooden movements testified to his newbie rig skills. It took time to move fluidly. She accepted the flower and sniffed its burgundy pedals. The odor was close to lifelike. But then maybe he'd been carrying it for a while.

  "Thanks," she said to Brad. "After our little talk, I wasn't sure I'd be seeing you again – especially in here."

  "I wasn't fair to you that day, Alex," he said. "Springing a proposal on you that way."

  "More like you weren't in your right mind," Brandon grumbled under his breath.

  "Why are you still in a wheelchair, anyway?" Alex asked him.

  Brandon looked sheepish. "They had the idea it would make it easier for you to accept your, uh, situation if we took it slow. But you've talked to Professor Martin. You know what's up."

  "I knew what was up before I talked to him."

  "Yeah." Bran nodded. "I figured you wouldn't be fooled for long." He paused, exchanging a reluctant look with Bradley.

  "So how are you feeling?" Brad asked.

  "Okay. Obviously, more tired than normal. Maybe it will hit me harder after I've had some time to think it through more, but right now, it doesn't seem that disturbing. I spent half my life living here anyway."

  "And it won't be forever," said Brandon. "Some of the smartest people on the planet are working on you. Heck, by the time they're finished they might figure out how to cure Friedreich's ataxia."

  "Sure, Brandon. Though that might take another century or so." She smiled as Brandon paled. "You've seen where they're keeping me, I assume. What's it like? And how do I look? Last time I checked, my roots were showing horrifically."

  Brandon chuckled. "You look kind of hot, actually." He shot a frowning glance at Brad, who was working on a frown himself. "Your life preservation chamber looks a lot like a modified AFIRM, but with more attachments. They're keeping most of your body near freezing, recycling and purifying your blood, um, wastes...all that shit."

  "Literally." Alex was smiling, but the more he talked, the queasier she felt.

  "They're keeping your brain warmer," said Bra
ndon. "They've installed a series of heating devices in line with your major arteries, whatever they're called – "

  "Carotid." Alex had good reason to remember.

  "Right." Bran's sudden scowl suggested he remembered, too. "Anyway, you're in one of the most advanced machines in the world – maybe the most advanced. I wouldn't have believed it existed."

  "It just barely does," said Alex. "I'm only its second guinea pig. The first guy croaked."

  "But he was a lot older and in worse shape," said Brad.

  "And being in here freaked him out," Brandon added. "They thought that might’ve been his biggest problem. He wasn't a veteran of here like you are."

  "It's okay, you two." Alex eyed them both, their discomfort with the situation and each other infecting her. "Being here isn't going to throw me into a tizzy. Trust me on that. The only way I'm going to check out is if something goes wrong in my life extension chamber."

  Brandon blinked at her and nodded, a quiver developing in his jaw that he stopped by clenching his teeth. Brad eyed the sidewalk, his flat features probably not mirroring his true expression but still conveying the intensity of his emotions.

  "On the plus side," said Brandon, with forced cheer, "you're an Apex now, ranked seven in the world. The million dollar top fifty bonus added to your mountain of wealth."

  Alex wanted to make a dismissive crack, but a swell of pride choked it off. She'd always told herself she didn't care about ranking, that it was all about the art of gaming, but in that moment she knew a part of her hungered for that recognition.

  "Why don't I drive you home?" Brandon asked. "I inserted at my folks' house. Oink set me up there, minus my folks. Kind of cool to have my own bachelor pad."

  "No, I'm fine. Why don't you guys take off? I'll catch up with you later."

  "You sure you'll be okay? You look a little loopy."

  "What could go wrong, Bran? I'll have a fatal accident on the way home?"

  "Ha, well, good point..."

  "I'll see you guys later."

  "Later, then. And by the way, it's good to have you back."

  Alex nodded. Her fatigue was returning, fueled by their reunion. Not that she wasn't happy to see them. But the old saw about relationships requiring energy was bopping her upside the head.