Sacrificial Pieces

by Cosimo Yap

“Why? Because it reminds you that your dreams are figments of your imagination? Or are you scared because you are no different from the devils that plague you?” Void asked.

  “No, the Exchange is dangerous as hell and we have no idea who might be looking for us,” Phantom said. “Do you really have no idea who attacked us?”

  “No,” Void said. “There are too many factions in the Revenants to keep track of. Each ascribes to their own religion, secret societies within secret societies. It’s a mess. But if we want to know more we’ll have to do more than pray.”

  “Right, so we’re visiting the Exchange, then?” Alan asked. “It was suggested I meet Prometheus and the Archivists. We’ll need their help in addition to yours, Phantom, to repair the Abyss Labyrinth.”

  “I haven’t agreed to anything, and you aren’t coming with us,” Phantom said. “You don’t have permission, and it’s too dangerous.”

  “Yes, he is—there are a few people he must meet,” Void said. “I have arranged for permission. Here is your access pass.” He pulled out a data cube from beneath his robes and handed it to Alan.

  Alan examined it, and saw it contained a virtual nameplate like the one Cerberus had provided, except it was green instead of blue. Alongside it were two grey nameplates for Eve and Lambda, both with the title AI, Revenant Property.

  “I already have permission, and a blue nameplate,” Alan said. “The person that invited me into the Revenants provided it. What are these for?”

  “You have a blue nameplate? That simplifies some things,” Phantom said. “Everyone in the Exchange has a nameplate they keep on their character at all times. Otherwise, at times it would be difficult to tell reality from fiction. You’ll see. Programs, such as your AI, also are present in the Exchange. They’ll be denoted with grey nameplates so that you can tell who’s a person, and who isn’t. Make no mistake, however, many of the AI within are smart. Too smart.”

  “A blue nameplate signifies that you are important in some way to the Revenants, not to be harmed,” Void added. “No one should assault you as long as you display the nameplate at all times. A senior Revenant can distribute a small number of blue nameplates; I was going to call in a favor and get one for you. Unlike the Arcade and Market, violence is possible within the Exchange.

  “Red nameplates are the Exchange’s equivalent of Administrators, moderators that you should not cross. Green nameplates are the vast majority, representing common plebeians.” Void shifted his gaze over to Phantom. “And an orange nameplate is the mark of the gods. Individuals wearing those are not to be trifled with.”

  “Orange nameplates? I thought those were just legends, I’ve never seen someone on the Exchange with an orange nameplate,” Phantom said.

  “You will today,” Void said. “Prometheus is one such being. We are wasting time—greatness awaits. But remember, Alan, fly too close to the sun and you will be burned alive.”

  He entered one of the capsules.

  The burning sensation in Alan’s mind flared up, reminding him it was still active. He shook his head, then got into a capsule, re-reading the instructions on how to connect. The directions that Cerberus had provided were the same as Void’s, though Cerberus’s had not told Alan how to bring Lambda and Eve into the Exchange with him.

  Enigma entered a third capsule. Phantom sighed and followed suit, climbing into the last capsule.

  Chapter 7

  Gaining access to the Exchange felt like engaging a hack in Cyberspace. No, Alan decided, the process was exactly like engaging a hack in Cyberspace. When new connections were formed in Cyberspace places would appear out of thin air—this time a floating platform appeared in the distance.

  Both sets of instructions told Alan to get onto the platform. The only way he could do that, however, was to deactivate Commander-mode and exit the safety of his base. In Cyberspace. Where, if he was killed, his mind would suffer permanent damage.

  Lambda and Eve materialized at the entrance of his Citadel. They, too, could be lost if they were killed and Alan failed to recover their core data. Eve took the appearance of a Valkyrie with twin blades, a raven-haired beauty. Lambda looked like a young Predecessor, and was the size of a normal human. Both were rank B AIs, thus they were quite powerful in Cyberspace. Alan examined their stats:

  Eve, Rank B AI.

  Attack rank: B. Twin blades, standard deletion equipment.

  Defense rank: ???. Protected by unknown armor, core located within Alan’s mind at unknown location.

  Movement rank: A. Highly agile with the aid of unique angel wing software.

  Estimated Attack: 750 damage/sec.

  Estimated Defense: 300 armor.

  Estimated Health: 800 hp.

  Estimated Movement: 12.

  Special Abilities: ???

  Lambda, Rank B AI. (Limited by hardware)

  Attack rank: C. Predecessor strength.

  Defense rank: A. Predecessor defense.

  Movement rank: B. Predecessor speed.

  Estimated Attack: 500 damage/sec.

  Estimated Defense: 500 armor.

  Estimated Health: 1,500 hp.

  Estimated Movement: 11.

  Special Abilities: ???

  In Cyberspace Alan’s equipment was a set of Revenant Scout Armor that had been converted from a Forge file, a laser sword he’d taken from a basic soldier unit, and a laser sniper rifle that had been converted from a slain enemy AI. He checked his own stats:

  Alan, Rank A Human

  Ranged Attack: 125 damage/sec.

  Melee Attack: 300 damage/sec.

  Shields: 500 energy

  Defense: 250 armor

  Health: 1,000 hp

  Movement: 4

  Armor Ability: Advanced Stealth Mode

  Special Abilities: Connect, Data Interaction, Machine Communication, Mental Hack, Mind Defense

  Although it seemed like either Eve or Lambda could take Alan on single-handedly, they didn’t possess data interaction, which allowed Alan to manipulate the Game itself at the cost of his computational energy, shield energy, and health. Of course, if the wrong person detected Alan using the ability and reported him to the Administrators, Alan would be banned from the Game.

  Alan took out the blue nameplate that Cerberus had given him, and it hovered above his head. He also grabbed the three golden keys Cerberus had sent. Lambda and Eve placed their own grey nameplates above their heads. The three of them walked toward the floating platform, and as they did they all erased the names on their nameplates so they would remain anonymous.

  The floating platform Alan connected to was small, the size of an elevator, and had a tiled floor. A single panel was attached to the floor like a signpost. On the panel were sixty-four buttons, eight rows of eight. The first four rows were white, red, green, and blue in color. The last four rows were grey, apparently inaccessible to Alan at this time.

  Once Alan was on the floating platform, a message appeared:

  Revenant Initiate and two AI acknowledged. Welcome to Loading Platform 398237C. Please remember to note your loading zone. Choose your destination.

  Void’s instructions said to meet under the Gods of the Stars in Phase Red 3, so Alan pressed the red button labeled 3 on the panel.

  A message appeared:

  Welcome to the Exchange, Phase Red 3

  An entire city phased into existence all around Alan. It appeared to be a smaller, twisted mirror image of Khersath, with a central market square and blocks of buildings on every side. Khersath’s streets were uniform, orderly square city blocks, but the Exchange’s streets twisted and turned every which way, up and down, side to side, intersecting each other at random intervals. A rainbow road stretched out to Alan’s right. It ascended, up into the air. Buildings—colorful explosions of chaos—were placed along the side of the road. They held odd, multifaceted shapes, and just floated in space. Nothing held the road or buildings afloat—the place certainly did not conform to the rules of physics.

  “Man, it’s be
en a while,” Lambda said as he looked around.

  Eve also scanned their surroundings, hands gripped tightly on her twin swords.

  Alan took stock of the situation. He was standing on the same platform, with a few hundred similar platforms surrounding him. They were where the market square would have been on Khersath. A few of the other panels were being operated, with players and AIs phasing in and out of existence at the press of a button—but for the most part, the place felt empty.

  Alan tried to think a question, but then realized Lambda and Eve were no longer in his head. They were here, standing next to him. “What just happened?” Alan asked.

  “You entered phase,” Lambda said. He gestured at the elevator-like panel. “Think of each phase as a floor on a building. The Exchange is composed of these 64 floors, along with a number of hidden, member-only levels. If my memory serves me, the Red Phase generally involves entertainment.”

  “But we never walked anywhere, we didn’t even move,” Alan said. “I just pushed a button.”

  “Remember you are in a digital space,” Lambda said. “The Game conforms itself to reality, making you walk from point A to point B. The Exchange does not. It allows for different layers of that same reality.

  “Think of it this way. Imagine you made two copies of the Earth—Earth A and Earth B—but you can only see or interact with the copy you are in phase with. If you blew up the White House in Earth A, you could phase to Earth B, and the White House would still be there. But it would still be destroyed in Earth A. These phases are digital alternate realities, copies of the same base structure.”

  “So I’ll always appear in the same area I phase in and out of?” Alan asked. He walked up to another panel to the side.

  “Sort of. Yes, your location is locked down, but what’s there in one phase, as compared to another, can be vastly different,” Lambda said. “In one phase might be a happy metropolis. In the next, toxic wasteland. There are locks on these phase-gates to ensure no one can phase inside another person, or somewhere dangerous.” He pointed to a bright red button at the top of the panel that was lit up.

  “Let us proceed to our destination,” Eve said.

  “Right,” Lambda said. “If I remember correctly, the Gods of the Stars sculpture is on Rainbow Lane.” He set off toward the rainbow road.

  Alan followed along. Most of the other beings walking the streets in the Exchange were AI, designated by the grey nameplates hovering above their heads. Many looked like clones of Administrators, with plain synthetic bodies, while others were mechs of various shapes and sizes. Few had lifelike avatars of flesh and blood like Lambda and Eve, though many of these Alan would have been certain were players if not for their nameplates.

  The street they were walking along didn’t help Alan get used to the oddness of his surroundings. The buildings all seemed to advertise children’s TV shows, with cute, cuddly, and colorful mascots. Bright neon signs contained encouraging messages like, “Carry on!” or “Never Give Up!” It was certainly not a place Alan expected to be part of the anarchistic, secretive Revenant society. Where was the advanced technology?

  In a few minutes, Alan found himself standing below a night sky, but instead of simple white stars fiery models of yellow, white, and blue raced above. They ranged from the size of a speck of light to spheres with radii larger than Alan. When concentrated on, a star would light up with a silhouette of faces and figures, shifting from one to the next. The meaning behind the display was lost on Alan, but it looked pretty.

  “Oh, looks like they added your sun,” Lambda said. He pointed up at a small yellow light the size of a marble.

  Alan glanced at it. It showed the silhouette of numerous men and women, but few were recognizable by shape alone. And then Alan saw something he did recognize—the outline of a cartoon mouse.

  “Wait, the Gods of the Stars, like entertainment gods?” Alan asked.

  “Yes,” Void said. Alan spun around. Void, Phantom, and Enigma appeared a few feet away. Both Phantom and Enigma wore basic Revenant armor. Enigma had a grey nameplate, Phantom green. Void, however, was dressed in what looked like a semi-realistic rabbit fursuit. He had large tufted ears, a white cottontail in the shape of a star, and a grey fur suit vest—and he was holding a bright orange cane.

  “As I said, you’d go mad before you figured Void out,” Phantom said. “Don’t bother trying.”

  “I wear the official regalia of Lord Fluffington,” Void said. He had a blue nameplate that read: Revenant Agent, Unknown Species.

  “Why go through all the effort to remember these cartoon characters?” Alan asked.

  “What else would be worth such extreme devotion?” Void asked. “As a child, is there anything that brings greater wonder? Those feelings of awe, of worship and reverence, are still there for many of the characters that shaped your view of the world. And what we see, what we believe, often becomes our reality. Are these entertainers therefore not the shapers of reality—the avatars of hidden worlds and emanations of childlike wonder?”

  “To make a religion of it seems to be going a bit too far,” Alan said.

  “Most religions are simply fan clubs, but evolved,” Void said. “An odd evolution, to be sure, but not as odd as you might think, young Alan. If you yet grow old you’ll likely find comfort in the soft tales of childhood. I understand the limited perspectives of the non-believers to not recognize the symbolism of the fickle nature of faith, but speak no more for we are here.”

  Void stood before a tunnel, which extended off the side of the road. Alan hadn’t seen it before—the entrance was a small brown hole that would easily go unnoticed next to all the swirling colors.

  As they walked up, into space and the air, Alan thought it was odd that there was an open tunnel into the ground. Alan then stopped and re-examined his surroundings. They were now on a level plane, with green grassy plains extending in every direction. The rainbow road led forward and back, but Alan swore they had been walking uphill.

  “Don’t overthink it,” Void said. “Come, we have much to do.” He started walking down the tunnel. Everyone followed behind, while Alan wondered if he had to be worried about getting attacked here.

  A message appeared:

  Entering Sub Phase.

  Though there were no apparent light sources, the tunnel remained bright. The surrounding dirt walls did not feel foreboding or dangerous, but homey and comforting.

  Phantom muttered something, and Alan didn’t quite catch it, but heard the words ‘dreamland’ and ‘nightmare.’

  They arrived at a series of round, dark green doors on either side of the tunnel. Void tapped his cane on one. It opened, revealing an interior living room extending far beyond the bounds of the tunnel.

  A man in attire similar to Void’s stood inside. “No, I will not aid your madness.” The door closed.

  Void shrugged, then walked up to the next door, and knocked.

  There was a similar response, though the inhabitant this time was a young lady who called Void a monster.

  Alan watched as Void knocked on fifty-odd doors. Each inhabitant opened the door, called Void some sort of name, and then slammed their door shut.

  “My, this matter must be more important than I thought,” was Void’s only remark.

  They arrived at the end of a hallway and a ball of mist opened the door. At least that’s what it looked like to Alan. He couldn’t view whatever the thing was that stood at the doorway.

  “Void,” the ball of mist said. It sounded elderly.

  “Sir, I was hoping you might be able to aid us in receiving an audience with Prometheus,” Void said. “If you told me what is going on that’d be cool too.”

  “Void, you know I’m too old to get into politics. The great machinery turns on, but I’ve retired to greener pastures. My days in the spotlight have passed.”

  “But, sir…” Void said, then trailed off.

  “It is dangerous enough to bring them here. Let the dead rest in peace. The r
epercussions of this matter will be felt far beyond the Gam3, into the inner Network itself. But I and many others feel as though it is a necessary change. We have stagnated far too long. Look around. Even as our borders are tested, the network grows, but what is it used for? Fantasy and play. We have lost our purpose.”

  “So…you won’t help us?” Void asked.

  The mist bobbed up and down.

  “No. You have what you need. Any more interference will only draw greater attention from the Authorities. Godspeed.” The door shut itself, and there was a flash of light.

  Alan found himself, and the rest of the party, standing on Rainbow Lane. The tunnel was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 8

  “A dead end,” Lambda said. “I might know someone that can help us if they’re still around. Additionally, Alan was provided with data keys for Phantom, Prometheus, and the Archivists. One of them might contain additional information.”

  Void nodded. “We should check them out. I had hoped to avoid the unwashed masses, but it appears that’s our only option.”

  “I’ll consider the offer, and see what the key unlocks, but I promise nothing more,” Phantom said.

  Alan stopped, turning to Phantom. “Wait, about this AI—”

  Phantom waved his hand. “Void already explained it. How do you think Enigma knew how to communicate with you? I certainly don’t expect you to understand Quadrary.”

  “Right,” Alan said. They set off, walking back toward the phase-gates.

  “I would caution you against the use of yet another AI—especially one who you don’t understand—but I expect by now my words simply go over your head,” Phantom said. “The fact that it worked inside the Academy’s data vaults does do it some service, but even the Academy’s scans and evaluations have been known to fail. Do not trust an independent AI.”

  “And you continue to hold your people’s grudges,” Void said.

  Phantom narrowed his eyes. “It’s not like they are unjustified. How many systems have been wiped due to a rampant AI?”