by Brian Simons
Ripcord Online
by
Brian Simons
Copyright © 2017 by Brian Simons.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner of this publication.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
1
“Caleb? Caleb Cross?” the instructor asked, handing me back my driver’s license. It’s not that I hadn’t been paying attention, I just wasn’t used to anyone calling me Caleb these days.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I’m Sandy,” he said. “We’re working out the jump order. What do you think about going first?”
“Sounds good,” I said. Better to get this over with. I had places to go.
“Cool, cool,” the instructor said. “You need someone to double check you’ve got everything packed up right?”
“No,” I said. The last thing I needed was someone rummaging around in my parachute pack. They might notice I had set myself up to fail.
The instructor nodded and walked away. There were only a few other people in the hangar, mostly people strapped into harnesses, helmets, and goggles waiting to skydive like me. Well, not entirely like me. If all went according to plan, they’d be home for dinner.
I avoided making eye contact with anyone else as I collected my final thoughts. Being anti-social had grown into my modus operandi after Nadine died. I just didn’t see the point of connecting with other people if I couldn’t discuss them later with my wife. She was my loom, pulling together the strands of my random interactions with the world and weaving them into a coherent tapestry. Without her, they were all frayed, just random threads poking out in haphazard directions with no sense of design.
I like to think I was her loom too.
The instructor, whatever his name was, sent a few other passengers toward me at the front of the hangar to wait for our plane.
“This fucking thing,” one guy said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
“They’ll remove it after the dive,” a woman said to him. “It’s just a backup.”
“It’s a goddamn fraud is what it is,” he said. “If it weren’t for you haranguing me about it I would never have agreed to it.”
I reached behind my head to run my finger over the small tab that hung from the nape of my own neck. It was more than a backup plan for me, it was my only plan. The device was called Ripcord, and it was a one-way ticket to finding my wife.
Years ago, after a few high-risk industries got tired of paying out large sums for pain and suffering damages in lawsuits, they got together and created Ripcord. The installation was almost painless. This device spliced into my spinal cord a week ago and since then it has mapped out my central nervous system, translating my memories, my personality, my hopes and dreams, into binary code. The company running today’s skydive offered it to me and everyone else upon signup.
If my altitude gets too low, and my speed too fast, the device will know. It’s programmed to determine the point at which death is imminent and then stop recording and transmit my data — transmit me — into Ripcord Online. It allowed businesses that led customers to their demise to prove that the customer didn’t suffer, but was instead transported to a beautiful virtual reality game world just before the traumatic incident in question. Hence, Your Honor, there was no pain or suffering.
It’s not just for skydiving. Hospitals use it for patients in dicey situations. Like, for instance, a complicated pregnancy accompanied by appendicitis.
“I bet there’s nothing to it,” the man said. “I bet it’s just to make your loved ones think you’re still out there in some computer world even though you’ve bit the bullet.”
“That would be illegal,” the woman said.
“Sure,” the man grunted, “because the government is going to bother regulating that.” The man waved at me and I made the mistake of glancing up at him. “Hey you, what do you think? Ripcord’s just a rip-off, right?”
He had a point. Ripcord seemed like the farm you send your dog to when you have to put him down. Even though tragedy struck down a loved one, it was comforting to think they got to spend the rest of their days exploring a video game utopia as a consolation prize to finishing their natural life.
“Only one way to find out,” I said. He frowned and went back to arguing with the woman. I tuned them out until the instructor called our group over to the plane.
I ducked my head and climbed into the small aircraft, taking a seat on a hard metal bench and pressing my back against the hull of the plane. Strapped to my back was a parachute pack, complete with a reserve chute and an automatic activation device. Much like Ripcord, the AAD would detect altitude and speed and was designed as a backup. It should deploy my reserve chute if I can’t, don’t, or won’t.
That’s why I picked a skydiving company for experienced jumpers that pack their own chutes. I bought a used AAD and drained the battery dead before packing up. I wanted this to look like an accident. I didn’t have any family to leave behind, and I had let my friendships lapse after Nadine’s death, but there was something about letting this look intentional that bothered me.
I wasn’t trying to end my life, I was trying to resume it.
With a handful of harnessed divers aboard, the plane’s engines began to roar. It was too loud to talk, but that didn’t stop the two divers from the hangar continuing to argue on our ascent into the sky.
I closed my eyes and tried to stop my leg from shaking. I wasn’t nervous. I had been planning this for a long time. I made my choice. It was just very, very cold in the plane. And fine, maybe I was a little nervous.
“Ready?” the instructor yelled, pulling open the hatch door in the plane’s side. I nodded and walked toward the opening. The plane’s wing interrupted what would have been a beautiful landscape view of farmland dotted with small houses and silos. The wind flapped furiously at my flight suit.
My mind was set, but my body knew it had only now. One last chance to put a stop to this madness. My body didn’t trust that I would be uploaded properly, or maybe it was jealous because I would leave it behind. My stomach was doing cartwheels as my adrenal gland pumped every emotion it could into my blood. It wanted me to fold to fear, regret, doubt. It wanted me to turn back and sabotage my one chance to launch into the digital world that took my wife from me.
I always hated this body anyway. I jumped.
The world stood still for a moment, the ground hanging there like a painting I stared at from afar. I picked up speed as I fell, the cold wind forcing the feeling out of my cheeks. The farmhouses came into clearer picture now as I got closer to the ground.
This is where I was “supposed to” pull a small metal tab and unfold a giant rainbow parachute behind me, slowing my fall and giving me time to marvel at the beauty of the world below.
I continued to plummet, watching streets, cars, and cows come into focus. The distance receded, leaving me with only the granular view of the property beneath me, no more clouds, no more horizon.
My reserve parachute sat idly in my pack.
I could see the leaves on the bushes and small flowers scattered in long blades of grass. It was coming toward me so quickly. What if Ripcord weren’t real? Did I regret this? Did my body succeed in pumping fear into me after all?
No. I knew there were risks. I knew people doubted whether Ripcord existed as advertised. I also knew that my life without Nadine was no life at all.
Ten feet above the ground, it happene
d. Reality split in two. My vision was overtaken with a pulse of pure white light. It lasted a fraction of a second, but it was unmistakable. Then I slammed into the ground and extinguished the earthly life of Caleb Cross.
2
Blinding whiteness overtook my vision. Gone were the cold air and the sensation of freefall. I was still, floating in a cheery void of light that started to take shape before my eyes.
First, yellows intruded on the whiteness, then greens and browns. They formed a small glade in the woods, an island of grass ringed by old trees. The cloud of colors around me distilled into delicate blue flowers scattered in the grass and the red-orange wings of an occasional butterfly. My feet glided gently down toward the soft ground.
I’ll never know what happened to my physical body, the one I left ten feet above the ground. Ripcord stopped recording there. At least I won’t have to live with the memory of colliding with the cold earth at 120 miles per hour.
“Welcome to Ripcord Online.” The words appeared in my vision as glowing blue light. I turned my head and the words followed.
“We are sorry for your loss,” the words continued “and offer you a warm invitation to the expansive world we have created for you. If you would like to gather your thoughts before proceeding, please take all the time you need.”
I wondered how many people had broken down and sobbed here in this little glade, jarred by the realization that their lives had ended and their loved ones were left behind. I was that loved one once.
“No thank you,” I said. “I’m ready.”
“Very well,” the words scrawled in front of me. “Ripcord Online is a fantasy game world, developed to provide players with a beautifully rendered alternative to the world you came from and the opportunity to improve yourself and your skills for as long as you live here.”
I was hung up on the word player. Sure, the folks hired to create this place were among the world’s top game developers, but I hadn’t considered myself a game player. I guessed that’s what I was now though.
“You are free to explore and develop at your own pace,” the game’s blue writing told me. “Some players choose to hone their combat or magic skills and become powerful fighters against creatures generated by the game or against other players. Others choose to forego this aspect of gameplay and focus on forging social connections with their fellow players. Either way, you should take this opportunity to select your basic character setup. This cannot be changed.”
“Ok,” I said.
“First, choose a combat class in case you choose to fight. You may choose Melee, Ranged, or Magic.”
I’ve only been in two fights before. One I lost, and the other I sort of tied — which is to say I was a bruised and bloodied mess both times. I also have terrible aim. Magic seemed like the only real choice.
“Magic,” I said.
“There are five branches of magic in Ripcord Online,” the words continued. “They are: White. Black. Red. Blue. Green.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“White is the magic of life, light, and protection. Black is the magic of death, fear, and pain. Red is the magic of fire, passion, and fury. Blue is the magic of water, peace, and logic. Green is the magic of nature, instinct, and harmony.”
There was no way to learn about the mechanics of Ripcord before landing here. The game content was proprietary and closely guarded, and it’s not like anyone ever came back to the real world afterwards. I wanted to make choices that would help me find Nadine, but there was no way to know what that meant yet.
For the last six years of her life, Nadine had been a florist. I didn’t know her before that when she stocked shelves at a local pharmacy. That job bored her to tears. She had always dreamed of working with plants, nurturing them, arranging them, using them to brighten the world around her. It was daunting, leaving her steady predictable job and starting a small business, but she did it. She took the leap.
I met her after she made that dream come true, and every day of my life with her she came home from work smelling like a bouquet. If I were her I’d pick green magic, and since I was trying to find her, it seemed like a smart choice.
“Green,” I said.
“Very well,” the words said. “As a green mage you may learn to manipulate nature. You will gain experience points (XP) from every spell you cast and every battle you win. These XP signify your learning and growth. With enough XP you will gain a level.
“As you level up, you earn attribute points which you can spend to improve your Power, Speed, and Acuity. Power improves attack strength, Speed improves attack frequency, and Acuity improves attack accuracy.
“Power also improves your health points (HP). HP represents how much damage you can take before you run out of health. Speed improves your stamina points (SP). SP represents how much you can exert yourself before you tire completely. Acuity improves your mana points (MP). MP represents how many spells and skills you can activate before you run out of energy.
“At higher levels, mages may cast more complicated and more powerful spells. As a green mage, you begin with access to the spell Grow. To begin, Grow allows you to speed the growth of an existing plant growing from the ground. The longer you cast it, the more MP you will use.
“As you increase your level, you will also earn skill points which allow you to unlock new spells and skills, or to improve the strength of those you already know. There are many spells to choose from, so choose carefully.”
This was a lot to absorb, and none of it got me closer to finding Nadine. “Can I start now?” I asked.
“Of course,” the game wrote. “This ends the tutorial. In a moment, the city of Cortina will come into view. Thank you for joining us here in Ripcord Online.”
The world around me began to fade into a semi-translucent veil that disintegrated into nothingness. There was no glade. It was an illusion, protecting me from a bustling city full of Ripcord residents. They walked through me as though I were a ghost until the last wisp of that glade vanished.
“Ow!” someone yelled as he bumped into my newly solidified body. He muttered something about newbs as he walked onward. A few other people bumped their arms and shoulders against me as they strolled down a busy cobblestone street.
Cortina was crowded. All I could see were people. I walked with them and picked up my pace to avoid getting trampled.
We walked past rows of houses and shops, a large church with an impressive steeple, a post office, a mansion that might belong to a mayor or other important person, on and on, passing building after building along the cobblestone road until at last I came upon the same church I had passed before. The city was a circle, and its denizens walked its circumference like a snake biting its own tail.
They chattered with the people at their sides, as if Cortina were an irrelevant backdrop for their endless conversations.
I kept walking, listening to their conversations and staring at them one by one. When I focused on a person, basic information about them appeared in that familiar blue font just above their heads. Level 1 Red Mage. Level 1 Axe Fighter. Level 1 Black Mage. Level 1 Crossbow Archer. No one here had leveled up.
“Ok,” one person said to whoever was next to him, “what else? Did you say white water rafting?”
“Yeah,” the second person responded, “I think I heard that once, some companies give you Ripcord when you sign up for rafting.”
“Maybe he’ll do that then, and end up here. I’d really like to see him again. Is that a terrible thing to hope?”
“Not at all. Say, do you think they give Ripcord to mountain climbers?” the second person asked.
“I don’t see why not,” the first person said.
“My daughter always wanted to climb a mountain. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
I hung back so I could avoid hearing the rest of their conversation. It was an endless stream of hoping their loved ones died with the same tech stapled to their spinal cord that we all had. As I listened in on ot
her conversations they all sounded the same. People discussed their own deaths, or fantasized about the deaths of their loved ones.
On my third trip past the church, I pushed myself to the outer edge of the ring of walking players. Eventually I found a small stone archway that led out of the city.
The city was surrounded by a green field, full of players casting magic spells or attacking each other with crude weapons. Some had progressed beyond the first level. This was a little more like what I thought a fantasy game should look like. Not that I was interested in this as a game. This was my life now. I was a little peeved that they let game designers make this world so complicated.
I walked further into the field, careful not to get in the way of dueling players. Small fountains peppered the green landscape, along with occasional flowering trees. I walked up to the closest fountain.
