Too Young to Die

by Michael Anderle

The image kept talking, however. Apparently, unlike the rest of the game, it wasn’t something he could interact with.

  “I am your doctor,” the man explained. “You are in a coma, Justin. Everything you see around you is a game being fed into your nervous system through the use of a virtual reality scenario. Everything you need is supplied in the real world, although we have set up the feeding tube to be responsive to what you do in the game. If you ever get hungry, eat something and it will trigger the feeding tube to provide more nutrients to your body.”

  He sat in stunned silence. How could he be in a coma? He couldn’t be in a coma.

  But it explained why he’d never simply raised his hands and removed the VR headset. It explained why his hunger kept going away and all the body aches. He merely didn’t know how he had gotten there.

  “You were in a car accident,” Dr. DuBois explained as if he could read his mind. He saw him look down at something and realized he was reading off a piece of paper that someone had given him. “You were on a blind date at an arcade and after you left, you were in a car crash. Your date was driving.”

  He shook his head. He still had no memory of this. No. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense at all.

  “Your mother and father want you to know that they love you,” the doctor said. He looked off-screen at someone and whispered something. Justin could barely hear someone whisper words in response and DuBois shook his head slightly before he looked at the camera. “They are working around the clock to save you. In the meantime, this game is giving you the best chance of recovering. It is helping you relearn neural pathways you need to have and overall, heal your brain.

  “However, you must be careful to not die in the game if you can avoid it. The brain is immensely open to the power of suggestion, and a player who dies in the game will often experience mild arrhythmia as the body briefly perceives itself to be dead. In your current condition, this is very dangerous for you.”

  Justin lowered his head into his hands. This wasn’t happening. It absolutely wasn’t. But he had begun to remember the arcade. He had started to see why he couldn’t remember ever buying this game and why neither of his parents had come to interrupt him for dinner.

  No, no, no…

  “This bracelet should let us communicate,” Dr. DuBois said. Again, he looked at the paper. “If you lose it, return to the N…P…C…who gave it to you and he can provide another one. Because we have never tried this form of communication before, it may have bugs and it may also have delays. If you ever want to send a message, press the blue jewel on the medallion and speak into it.

  “One more thing.” The doctor leaned slightly closer to the camera. “We can hear the vocalizations you make in the game, and it’s my suggestion that you stop swearing so much. Your mother doesn’t seem to like it. Oh—and we’ll try to make sure to warn you when there will be more bugs.” He leaned back and smiled. “You’re doing very well, Jason.”

  “Justin,” someone said from off-screen.

  “Justin. Right. You’re doing very well,” DuBois said. “You’re interacting well with the game and beginning to pick up more of the neural suggestions. Keep working through the game and it should give you the time and stimulus you need to heal. I will send another message when I can.”

  The image disappeared and the game world leapt into dizzying motion.

  Once it settled, he looked around to try to ground himself. This was a nightmare. He didn’t want to believe it but he knew on some level that it was real. If only he could remember the accident. He’d been at the arcade. To help him focus, he squinted and images flashed through his mind. The bottom of Tina’s tattoo peeking out from her t-shirt. Her sliding her beer to him across the table. Her telling him that getting caught was half the fun—

  Parts of him reacted to that particular memory, and he had a sudden, terrified fear that his body was visible and his parents were there. He cast about for a distraction, thought of the giant cockroaches, and shuddered in response. At least it did the trick.

  He sighed with relief and buried his head in his hands. What had happened after that, though? He remembered darkness, Tina drumming her hands on the steering wheel, and the pleasant buzz of the beer in his bloodstream.

  The dog. He recalled the dog running into the road.

  And the way his whole body had lurched forward. He remembered the sickening moment of pain. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

  The pace of the beeps had been wildly erratic while Justin listened to the message and now, it began to climb steadily.

  “What’s going on?” Mary asked worriedly. She had come on her own today and told them that Tad was in the office and she needed to see Justin. Even when they closed the pod lid again, she stayed, pulled a chair close to the pod, and rested her forehead on it.

  “He’s remembering,” DuBois said. He looked like he was making a calculation in his head. “It was a risk whether to tell him or not. I decided it would be less stress on his nervous system if he expected to remember rather than having the memory come up at an unexpected time.”

  Amber nodded, but Mary couldn’t make any sense of this. What did he mean?

  The other woman saw her confusion and came to sit next to her. “Have you ever remembered something frightening?” she asked. “It can be scary. You start to sweat or your heart begins to race. Things like that. Justin is having that right now while he remembers the accident.”

  “Is he safe?” she whispered. The pace on the machines wasn’t climbing anymore, but her heart was still in her throat.

  “As safe as he can be,” the other woman said. “Mrs. Williams, Justin is getting better. It may seem like a slow process but think of it like a broken arm, or—well, after having a baby. Stress on the body takes a long time to heal. Right now, much of that stress is in Justin’s brain. We need to give it time.”

  Mary clutched her hand gratefully. “Thank you,” she managed to say, “for everything you’re doing.” She looked around the lab. “Thank you to all of you. It seems almost scarier to see a window into Justin’s mind right now.” She extended a hand to touch the pod with trembling fingers. “It hurts to have him so close and know he’s…almost awake but not be able to talk to him.”

  Justin paced around the campfire as night fell. Lyle had eaten big chunks of the meat and Justin’s food had, exactly as DuBois told him, made him feel full.

  He wanted to say something to his parents but he didn’t know what.

  Before he could change his mind, he held his wrist up, pressed the blue medallion, and began to speak.

  “Mom, Dad—I got your message. This isn’t easy to understand and I’m…scared.” He didn’t want to say that in front of his dad but it was out there now and he didn’t think this had an erase message button. “I want you to know I wasn’t trying to do anything stupid that night. Tina was driving because I had been drinking. I tried to—to get out of my shell a little, I guess. I love you a lot. I’ll be more careful in the game now that I know.” He pressed the button again to stop the recording. Please don’t let me die. He wanted to say it out loud but he knew they were doing everything they could.

  He sat and wrapped his arms around himself.

  It scared him that he didn’t know what to do next.

  It was early evening when the senator arrived. He had changed again into his sweatshirt and jeans and he didn’t smell wonderful. When he saw Jacob’s face, he shrugged.

  “I took a cab,” he explained. “I’m trying to stay off their radar.”

  “Who are they?” he asked. Williams looked at him as if he were trying to make up his mind and Jacob shook his head. “They came after all of us in that ambulance. Who are they?”

  “IterNext, I assume.” DuBois had appeared in the kitchen without either of them noticing. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the knowledge. He took a carton of milk out of the fridge and poured himself a large glass. “They’ve watched me for years.”

  “It is
IterNext,” the senator confirmed. “But it’s me they’re after. They…offered to pay all Justin’s medical bills if—” He sighed. “Well, it was a bribe. A blank check for them to call in a favor during a senate vote in the future.”

  “They do that?” Jacob was shocked. He didn’t like to think of himself as naïve but bribery was something that was whispered about on news shows like a huge scandal. The idea of it happening like this was oddly jarring, not to mention the other facts. “And they followed your son’s ambulance? What was that, a threat?” He looked down the corridor. “We don’t have security here.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry,” the senator said dryly. “They’ll hardly burst in with commandos. They’ll merely ruin my career.”

  “And possibly mine!” Jacob said and waved his hands.

  Amber stuck her head into the kitchenette. “We knew that was a possibility,” she said. “Remember? I said we would get smashed through the floor by Big Pharma and you said something about how we were helping people, blah, blah, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.” She waved her hand. “Well, here we are, buddy. Don’t get cold feet now.”

  “What, now you’re threatening me, too?” He looked at her, his expression one of a man betrayed.

  She only rolled her eyes and disappeared.

  Senator Williams smiled at him and headed into the other room to where his wife waited. They embraced the way they always did—as if the rest of the world ceased to exist for a moment. She laid her head on his shoulder and he smoothed her hair. She must have said something about the smell on his clothes because when she picked her head up, her nose was wrinkled and he was laughing.

  “I have something for you two,” DuBois told them. Jacob leaned in the doorway as the man set the speakers up to play Justin’s message. Then, with uncommon tact, the doctor ushered the others out of the room and shut the door of the kitchenette.

  They waited and caught snatches of Justin’s voice on the monitor. All of them had heard it when he recorded it, and Nick had been suspiciously sniffly.

  It wasn’t long before Tad came to push the door open and beckon them inside. Mary had clearly been crying, and she still tried to repair her makeup.

  “How is he doing?” the senator asked. “Mary told me that remembering the accident was difficult for him.”

  “It was,” DuBois said. “The good news is that his reaction to that was much more in line with what a healthy person would experience than his reaction when he died in the game. It would appear that he is getting better.”

  “I want to talk to him,” Tad said.

  The doctor hesitated. “We can send another voice packet fairly easily,” he said, “but we don’t want to do this too often. Justin needs to focus on the game, which he can interact with, rather than having his focus on the outside world.”

  “I understand.” Amber winced when Tad swallowed. “But I want him to hear our voices.”

  Wordlessly, the doctor pointed to the microphone and, with a few clicks on the computer, set it up to record before he ushered the others out again.

  In the kitchenette, Amber narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “What are you worried about?”

  “It’s a balance,” DuBois said without preamble. “We wanted him to believe the game was real. He knew it was a game, which helped to keep him from dying when his character died, but he needs a certain amount of immersion. If he doesn’t get that, his brain won’t have an incentive to heal. And if he does…”

  Amber frowned. “What then?”

  “So many people in comas never wake up,” DuBois said. “They’re locked off from the world forever. That could still be him.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Justin wasn’t sure if he slept or not and was even afraid of sleeping now. He was very aware of the fact that his body lay in a perpetual sleep and something about that made this version of consciousness all the more vital. If he went to sleep there, would he ever wake up?

  Still, time slid away from him for a while and when the sun came up, he felt rested. Did his mind feel more acute or was that merely his imagination?

  “Lyle,” he said. “Wake up. We’re going back to the inn.”

  The dwarf sat. “You have more money for beer?”

  “We’re not going to get beer,” he said. “We’re going to get quests so that we can level up—I mean, get better gear—before facing Sephith.”

  “Good,” his teammate replied.

  “What do you mean, good?” He looked at him suspiciously as Lyle made the campfire vanish. “I thought you wouldn’t like this plan.”

  “The longer we wait before we face him, the better the chance you don’t decide to do it at all,” Lyle explained.

  “You could theoretically run off,” Justin pointed out.

  “Oh, don’t you say that, boy.” The dwarf pointed a finger at him. “That’s a deathly insult where I come from. Yer lucky I’m not my father or ye’d be dead for that.”

  “What do you mean? I didn’t insult you.” He began to walk toward the town.

  “You said I could run off and leave my obligations,” Lyle told him. “I asked ye to get me out of jail and the price of that was to help ye with the wizard. I’m not turning my back on that. That’d be to betray my honor.”

  “Oh.” Justin hadn’t considered that. He wondered what Lyle would think about flaking on group plans to go out to Chili’s or see a game, both of which he’d done recently.

  Probably the same thing.

  The town was bustling, and Justin was simply glad that none of the NPCs were inclined to arrest them for coming back before they defeated the wizard. He didn’t want to try to explain to an NPC that time was meaningless when it came to even the most important quests.

  At least, he hoped it was.

  And if it wasn’t, Zaara was made of pixels. If he had to, he would let her get offed in order to save himself. Nothing personal, Zaara. I’m sure you’re great. You’re merely not real.

  He browsed the job postings again and selected a few that looked interesting—more rabbits to be killed, a few wolves, and a couple of bounties. Lyle suggested skinning the wolves and selling the pelts at the next town, and although that made him a little queasy, he decided the game probably wouldn’t make it too graphic.

  Anyway, they needed the coin.

  It was only when they headed out of town again that he realized how angry he was. When he’d recorded the message to his parents, he’d been shaken and grateful to be alive. Now, he had begun to feel the next wave of emotions and they weren’t anywhere near so positive.

  They were the ones who had badgered him to go out on that date and who’d said his video games were holding him back. Had they apologized? No, of course not. He’d apologized because they were always on his case about messing up and they probably thought he was the one at fault.

  Now, he was in a coma after a date he hadn’t even wanted to go on and what did they use to keep him alive? Video games. He hadn’t expected them to apologize but right now, he had begun to think they should.

  And was Tina even alive? They hadn’t bothered to mention that to the doctor.

  Which probably meant she was dead. They’d gotten her killed, too. Justin knew that wasn’t fair. Tina’s driving had been way too fast. If they’d been going thirty, they could have swerved around the dog. If it had been forty, they’d still have crashed but not nearly so hard.

  He’d seen the speedometer right before everything went dark.

  Still, he would blame his parents for this one. Tina had tried to cheer him up after his parents basically told him he was a loser. She was right that if they’d played the night safe, his parents wouldn’t have thought any better of him. They’d simply keep thinking he was a loser.

  He was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the orc stepping onto the path in front of them.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” it said with a gravelly laugh. “Looks like meat’s on the menu toni—”

  Its head thudded onto
the path and Justin stared at it, his chest heaving. “I’m having a moment here,” he told it. Still, he had to admit, swinging a sword was a very satisfying way to deal with anger. When the other orcs attacked him from the forest, he grinned as he settled into a ready stance.

  It occurred to him that he should be terrified. After all, if he messed this up, he might die—really die.

  But he found he was laughing as he danced in and around the orcs’ heavy fists. When he was angry, he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t all up in his head about game mechanics. Plus, now he knew how to piss his parents off.

  In the lab, Amber’s mouth hung open as she listened to the audio from the game. What she heard had to be the most sacrilegious thing anyone had ever said. Its creativity was marred only by its exceedingly repetitive use of the word fuck.

  “He wants to do what with the shroud of Turin?” Jacob asked through a mouthful of lo mein.

  “I think he might have gone in the other direction with your suggestion about not swearing,” Nick said to DuBois.

  “Yes,” the doctor said after a moment. “You know, I think that’s true. He seemed so sorry in his voice message.”

  “He’s not anymore,” Jacob said with feeling. “I’d say our friend Justin, here, might be a little angry about life in general right now.”

  “He’s angry,” Amber said, “at his parents.” She looked at them all. “I wish we knew why. And I wish he’d keep his heart rate in a good range.” She shrugged. “But if we’re wishing for things, we might as well wish that no one was in a coma and we had no market because I guess that’s the only way we could avoid this kind of stress.”

  “Your mind makes the strangest leaps,” DuBois said. “Chaos is a part of life, young lady. Now, is there any more popcorn or am I all out? I’m studying game design and it’s a hungry business.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The road to Sephith’s keep wound through a series of surprisingly pretty marshes on a mountain plateau. The sharp peak of the mountain to the west was lit by the sun and the streams that ran down it shined so brightly that Justin sometimes had to look away.