Words were like static at first. I could see, but it blurred as if I was trying to dial onto some low-quality video with encryption on it. After a few breathes the scene came together, sort of.
“User Legate. Can you understand me?” Hal Pal was speaking with more female than male. The face was concerned and his golden coloring lit up to overpower the dull iron.
My fellow [Mechanoid] repeated itself even slower. The AI’s head moved in slow motion. For some reason, my ARC interface felt disjointed. Nothing connected right. Maybe this was an issue with the time dilation in this game. Ringing hit both ears and my vision briefly doubled up. Hal Pal's words were hard to hear or see.
I tried to move an arm and successfully failed. It took me four more attempts to wiggle a finger. My feet felt absent. Not numb, just without any sensation. Having spent, who knows how long, dancing in the resurrection zone there should have been some feedback. Anything. Instead, I felt like I was numb and half dreaming.
“What?” Oh Voices, that one word stuttered like a broken audio file looping. I coughed repeatedly and the remaining sentence came out. “What happened?”
There were other questions. How did I get here? Where is here? Shouldn’t I be merged with little bits of gunk floating about in space monster defecation? Why didn’t my legs work?
“Do you not see for yourself?” My friend asked. Having my question turned around felt like dealing with James again.
For a brief moment of paranoia, I worried that maybe this wasn’t Hal Pal, that it was a Voice from Continue Online come to mess with me somehow. No, Voices and this Jeeves were different beings entirely. Hal Pal outside the machine had spoken to me about being in the game so my concern had no basis.
I didn’t see much of anything. One eye kept slipping closed and felt unresponsive. They put me on drugs that did something very similar after my second incident. Muted everything, numbed even more, made it sluggish to even tilt and look around.
A hint of blue was visible out of one eye. Things were still fuzzing in and out as the ARC simulated a half broken body.We seemed to be attached to Hal Pal's small life preserver in space. Thin tethers tied to both of us [Mechanoid]s to the raft and the only thing missing was a bright orange coloring.
There was a third length wrapped around the life raft ring. I followed it drowsily over to see Dusk, head tilted to the side in an unspoken question. The four arms on my [Messenger’s Pet] were weird compared the old wings.
“Hi,” I said in his direction.
Dusk yawned wide. The snapping sound resulting from his jaws coming together made me give a small chuckle. Weak laughter came out and triggered another stutter.
“User Legate, your mission was mostly a success.”
“Good.” It was also extremely late at night. “How long before the Wayfarer…” My words broke up again with a looping. I coughed some more and shook while trying not to let the ARC feedback overwhelm me. The jerking of my chest left me with a view of a missing lower half.
I stared for a moment without comprehension. Maybe it was an error with the ARC’s visual feedback loop. A.I. Dreams may have forgotten to fix a graphics glitch. The final more likely option involved my legs being gone.
Thoughts about making my toes wiggle passed with increasing worry. They didn’t respond, nothing did. No limb came into view from some awkward zero gravity position. Nothing floated about twisting slowly because it had been disconnected.
“My legs?” I felt aghast. Without those, I couldn’t dance. No more of the primary pastime which had kept me sane for over a year now.
Attention Unit identified as Hermes!
Damage from your recent near loss of this chassis still lingers. The following status is impacting you:
* [Energy Generator Critical] – [Core] ability usage cost increased
* [Limbs Lost] [Both Legs] – abilities requiring legs are disabled
* [Sensor Damage] – Loss of feeling and sensory enhancements disabled
* [Nano-Circuitry Malfunction] – body parts will not respond correctly
You are currently being [Repaired] and the following benefits are being applied.
* [Repairing] – rate of repair is extremely low due to materials provided.
* [Numbed] – pain feedback disabled while being [Repaired].
My eyes scanned over the messages. Real me was okay. In-game me was on the mend. I shook off the almost oppressive panic. No longer would I freak out uncontrollably from ARC feedback. Weeks as William Carver with his constant aches and beings as a [Red Imp] changed me. It only took a moment shake away the old scared man who had first started playing virtual reality games in the Room of Trials.
How long had it been since then? Three months in reality? Far more in the virtual world, long enough ago that I felt like a different person every time I logged out of the ARC.
“They were lost in the explosion. Most of your chassis was damaged. Recovering your core took some sifting even with Dusk’s help.” Hal Pal responded slowly. I felt like the angry customer who found out their bill for repairs was going to be astronomical.
“I’m okay. It’s just a game, right?” I looked over to Hal Pal while trying to slow my heart rate. The AI nodded. “The Wayfarer?”
“Over there.” Hal Pal kept one hand tightly gripped onto the small blue life raft.
I turned to follow Hal Pal’s pointing finger. Even Dusk seemed vaguely interested. Vision in one eye felt swollen shut like a boxer who had been knocked out. There was enough visible to see an extremely low health bar flashing out in distress.
Beyond the bars, beyond the messages and screens showing up was a scene that made me smile. A giant ship plus tons of smaller ones were firing at the [Leviathan]'s body. The beast still lived and looked huge when compared to all the little ships. I could see the back third of its body had broken away.
“It's not dead?” I asked. Seeing a health bar from here was difficult.
“Almost. Your attack rendered it nearly defenseless. Remains of the creature are scattered all over.” Hal Pal pointed upwards then down. Chunks of the creature could be seen spinning off into empty space outside the asteroid belt.
The [Leviathan]’s front half had sluggish reactions. Whatever fight and energy it had were almost completely expended. It tried to curl and snap but failed to bunch up correctly. Each heave of its body only caused the damage to compound. From back here I could see one blurry red eye almost completely shut in pain.
I felt dirty, and not from the desire for a shower. Even though this monster had tried to eat me, picking it off in such a manner seemed unsporting. Almost disrespectful of such a beast. According to my brief encounter window, a [Leviathan] should die in battle against entire raids of ships like the ones currently assaulting it. This one had debilitated by a sneak attack up the butt.
At least the smell was almost gone. Guts were spread all over the asteroid field. Our life raft floated well away from everything else. Far enough away that [Leviathan]’s death march had little chance of reaching us. A health bar above the creature's head lost solid chunks each time an ordinance from our mother ship collided.
The [Wayfarer Seven] didn’t use lasers. No beams of light flew out of projected shields. Our former tormenter the [Leviathan] looked pathetic as it hissed inaudibly. A lack of air made it impossible for actual noise to travel this far, but the force behind its movements did cause a faint vibration.
“The Calvary?” I tried to count the smaller ships. They looked like tiny bees or wasps from this far away.
“Affirmative. Your well-placed explosion completely separated the back portion. The Wayfarer Seven crew could not let such an opportunity go by.”
“They actually brought the whole ship? And all those other little ones?” I tried to move my arm, but it still didn’t respond. My health bar at least was no longer flashing.
“Some are players like us. Others are employed by the federation which rules this sector.” Hal Pal answered. “Bringing down such a creature is worth a lot of contribution to us, and resources to our consortium. We could build a new Wayfarer from scratch once it’s all processed. Maybe two.”
“Is-“ the jerked audio file loop happened again until I started coughing. Being low on health and clearly missing parts wasn’t helping me. It didn’t hurt at least. “Is that what happened to the prior Wayfarers?”
Hal Pal had stated it was on a mission. One to prevent this ship from ending up like the others had before it. I wanted to know if we were making progress on the joint goal.
“Two. Yes, this beast devoured two prior ships due to the reduced military presence. Other ships were lost in route to our destination.”
“So, so, so.” I tried not to huff in annoyance at my looping sound processor. “It’s not over.”
“Negative. My goal has not been fully realized. Though I thank you for gaining, revenge, for the other Mechanoids.” A note of pride lined Hal Pal’s dual voices. I had to turn my head slightly to see out of the undamaged eye, but the AI was clearly looking at the battle going on far away.
“I wanted us to get away safely,” I muttered feeling abruptly shy on the subject. Praise was hard to deal with, even while working I tended to brush it off as part of my job.
It occurred to me that my character was still essentially a newbie. My research on Advance Online put my stats and skills near the lower end of all active players, which was fine. According to this message my abilities actually helped. Between the two of us we easily did a majority of the damage. Mostly Hal’s bomb.
It seemed ironic that even in a new game, all I was being was a delivery man. Instead of letters, it was explosives. In the way of my delivery had been space lice, a giant anus, and some tentacle monster.
Dusk rumbled. I could hear a faint purr of happiness coming through whatever connection we used to bypass Advance Online’s settings. The one which allowed him to ignore most computer program rules in favor of a prime directive which included cupcakes and small critter murder. Maybe this green [Core] came with an audio connection.
Thinking about all I had been through, even though most of it was boring training and cleaning, made me feel happy. This was how a new game start should have gone. Being William Carver certainly had a lot of value. I wouldn’t trade helping give him a final battle for anything. On the other hand, going that route made me miss out on my own action start within Continue.
“This game has been fun, even if I'm new,” I said happily. If it weren't for Xin I might just switch. Dusk was here, so what did I care?
Hal Pal didn't respond right away. Our attention was focused on the distant fight. My eyes blurred the image a little, but I still had a good view. Giant concussive blasts shaved off the [Leviathan]’s remaining health.
“Ah. From your perspective, this is only an introduction to this universe.” Hal Pal said after the shockwaves died down.
“That it is.”
“Being new to something. Ah. I envy humanity's ability to feel separated from the present. We, I, am too often stuck in the moment.” Hal Pal turned to look at me. I could see the glow of its colors shifting in both eyes. Silver replaced iron, iron swallowed silver. “Our consortium, the Hal Pals, feel there is much to be gained here. Humans join to grow and learn. So might we, if we strive for a goal hard enough."
"I've certainly changed." I thought about those first days in the ARC again. "Maybe it will work for you."
"Perhaps. I will strive to do so. We, I hope you will stay to assist with this goal of protecting the Wayfarer Seven.”
“Being stuck in the moment wouldn’t be bad sometimes,” I was trying to process Hal Pal's prior statement. Its words reminded me of the vague sort of status I held myself in before playing these games. If computer AIs imagined this world, then my own nighttime illusions would be about Xin.
“Perhaps there is validity to both views, User Legate.” It responded while turning back to the slaughter. Small swarms of ships were still firing into the beast’s body. Lasers this time, they seemed to be aimed at smaller monsters.
Maybe creatures similar to the weird tapeworm or octopus I had fought in the monster's bowels? Inside the boss had been labeled as a dungeon, so many other small beings probably existed inside the [Leviathan] even in death.
“Will you be able to continue assisting?”
“Later. I need to get some rest.” Sleep would help me decided what to do next. There were three days before my dinner with Liz. Time enough to sleep, work a little, and come back to the game for skill grinding. Maybe next time I needed to crawl inside a giant space monster it wouldn’t be as terrible. Or I could level up [Brawn] so high a seismic punch would crush its shell from the outside.
That would be neat. I smiled while daydreaming of a world where my character's level was high enough to pull off all sorts of crazy tricks. Maybe they had some psychic powers in this game I could figure out how to use in conjunction with a space ship.
My good eye started to close. Real life exhaustion and a lack of feeling in most of my limbs made it hard to stay awake. A rumble of hunger stirred me a little. I was playing too much while ignoring basic needs.
“Our recovery craft will be near soon. This will minimize the negative impact to the Wayfarer Seven’s resource pool.” Hal Pal interrupted my introspection with a pointing hand.
Dusk seemed interested in the arriving ship. His nose stuck out to sniff. The extra-long tail stayed wrapped around our vessel's anchor ring. We were like a small crowd hanging on to a one person raft. I was only in the group because Hal Pal saved my game character.
“Thanks, for picking me up.” I mumbled and stuttered through the audio issues. “You didn’t have to.”
“User Legate, one of my main goals is to ensure the Wayfarer Seven’s survival where prior iterations have failed. But that is not my only mission.”
Finding energy to respond didn’t happen. Instead, I tried to raise an eyebrow. Hal Pal took the hint.
“I am also concerned about your well-being. If you would believe the words of a non-human. There are many tales where our kind are out to enslave or harm others. Due to such fiction many of your kind distrust our feedback. We are not, alive, in human eyes.” Hal Pal said after a short pause. Both the nanny and butler voice sounded strangely subdued. Almost hesitant, perhaps even worried.
I knew humans didn't always trust AIs. My job wouldn't have existed if people believed everything machines said. Being a mouthpiece for the computer to help mankind believe the news was my whole purpose.
“We talk to apes, Hal, we talk to dolphins and dogs and parrots. They’re alive, they’re intelligent and respond, but people don’t think of them as real equals.” My words stuttered out the last sentence and I had to cough again to say anything. Maybe this was me rambling. I swear there was a point somewhere in my sleepy words.
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“User Legate?” Hal Pal said with a questioning tone. I snorted and tried to focus on a dimming connection to the ARC hardware.
“We’re not used to equals. Maybe if you were an alien they might be more willing to accept it, instead of something created by human hands.”
“That is an interesting thought, User Legate,” It said.
“Thanks.” I let my eyes close again and the world started to fade. There was a bump and blast of heat that made me open the undamaged eye yet again. I could see Treasure piloting a ship easily twice the size of our [Wayfarer’s Hope].
I felt vaguely jealous that she could afford the bigger and meaner looking vehicle. No noise came from its engines, but a slight vibration rippled through me. Neat, but it didn’t matter a lot right now. My consciousness was starting to drift off and the ARC connection went black.
“You have been logged out, User Legate.” The ARC’s voice said. I nodded, pulled up a blanket and let sleep claim me.
The rest was fitful. An ongoing dream kept interrupting me. In it I was in the Trillium van desperately using the manual steering wheel. Flashes kept popping up where ribbon limbs reached through van windows to yank us in different directions. A [Leviathan] with rows of teeth ate the asphalt roads behind us.
Hal Pal’s shell sat in the van's rear, uncaring since in this world one physical body wouldn’t mean the end of a digital intelligence. I remember screaming in jealousy over its ability to be indifferent. If only I had a metal body to crush this monster with. Suddenly I was a [Mechanoid] and fighting back, making progress.
At one point, I stood on top of the van facing down a strangely floating octopus monster while screaming ‘You shall not pass!’. In my dream, both monsters caught up and won. More than once I woke up worrying that my memory of saving Hal Pal had been falsified.
Bird chirps woke me up from the restless sleep. I stared upwards while wiggling fingers and toes. Everything responded correctly.
“ARC.” My voice cracked a little from dryness but didn’t go into an audio loop.
“Awaiting input.”
“Time.”
“Seven-fifteen on Thursday.” The machine responded calmly. I blinked a few times and tried to understand the words. My head hurt fiercely. The last time things had been this bad was shortly after using [Awareness Heightening] to charge across a battlefield.
Messing around with too many abilities in the ARC could cause physical feedback. The EXR-Seven’s around my wrists and ankles were proof of that. Muscles which connected from chest to shoulders ached. Calves on either leg threatened to cramp up if I moved wrong.
I slowly stood up and tried to get past the headache. Time dilation was one of the best and most dangerous features an ARC could provide. It was bad enough the thing stimulated portions of the brain to produce all five sensations. Compressing that ability to four times the speed was an issue.
Oh well. I had survived so far. The ARC didn’t scare me any more than a kitchen knife, wood chipper, or self-driving vehicle did. Used wrong the damage could be bad, but used correctly long lasting effects had proven negligible.
Arms moved in slow circles to warm up. Knees and legs moved back and forth to shake off the sluggishness of poor sleep. After warming up the muscles, I tried to stretch a little.
Food in the fridge helped. Protein bars and other quick meals that had been suggested by other ARC dwelling internet people were on the menu. After a warm up, I got ready to put in some hours at work.
First, though, a quick check in with my character. I logged into the ARC and walked through my Atrium. Moving into Advance Online showed a much different situation than the one I had left. For one, my arms and legs were back.
Sleeping had caused almost a full day to pass in-game. My body logged off floating out in space with Hal Pal, but returning to the virtual reality put me somewhere else. Apparently I had been put in the hangar next to a reconstructing [Wayfarer’s Hope].
The ship looked a lot smaller than I remembered. This new replacement seemed bluer too. My eyes drifted over the sides checking for both engines. They existed but were also reduced in size.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
A message popped up. Dozens more were behind that. All were ones I had ignored while being half broken in the [Leviathan] destruction aftermath. My biggest boss kill ever and I fell asleep as loot had been handed out. Or was there loot? I read the first message and flipped through others. After being invested in Continue Online, I felt better about paying attention to some item gains.
Status Report:
* [Wayfarer’s Hope] offline – currently [Repairing]
* No items received due to player not being online, priority converted to currency [Contribution with Consortium of Wayfarer Seven]
* Unit Hermes' recovery incomplete - currently [Repairing]
Rewards issued for the following action items:
Positive results for role played in Dungeon Completion – Leviathan’s Lower Bowels. Bonuses provided for the following - first for character, first for dungeon, exploration percentage meets minimal requirement
Positive results for role played in [Leviathan] Raid Boss Defeat. Bonuses provided for the following - sixth kill, first for race, majority damage dealer, reduced party
Positive results for role played in [Grand Cestodipus] Dungeon Boss Defeat. Bonuses provided for the following - twenty-first kill, third for race, majority damage dealer, reduced party
The rewards vastly increased my character's statistics. Almost thirty additional [Brawn] graced my character sheet. Piloting took leaps with minor stat bonuses, reckless piloting to save our virtual lives paid off. Contribution went through the roof, I guess having enough materials to build a new ship was considered worthwhile.
[Core] programming complexity also increased by huge leaps, especially for taking down the [Leviathan]. I flicked through the player's guide and tried to understand what programming complexity meant. After reading a few minutes, I determined it basically amounted to my abilities from the [Core] items growing stronger. Like Path ranks but with far less ability to switch roles.
Being stuck in a class system kind of annoyed me, but at the same time it made it simple to follow. I would have to program the new numbers into my spreadsheet and see where that put my output compared to before. It looked to be almost four hundred percent, before spending contribution points. Way too neat for a newbie like me.
All in all, I was somewhere near my Hermes character prior to the [Red Imp] situation, but less powerful than after training on the mountain with Shazam. Most of the rewards seemed to be general character progress. Faster, stronger, better. More numbers that would increase my ability to help Hal Pal.
I needed more. Even with getting a lucky break from the bosses and receiving huge bonuses for contributing so much damage I didn’t feel secure. No [Blink] ability, still unfamiliar with the weapons. I wanted more upgrades all around.
The boxes kept coming. I sighed while reading the latest pop up message to ring into existence.
Attention Unit identified as Hermes!
Your assistance in the [Leviathan] raid meets MVP standards. The following abilities are available for programming into your neural matrix.
* [Mechanical Minion]
* [Power Suit]
Title Awarded due to method of contribution: [Rear Assaulter]
Effects:
* +25% to damage while attacking the enemy's rear.
* +3 to all stats
Oh my goodness. Really? Who’s brilliant idea had it been to program that title into things? I would never, ever use it. A quick read of the player's guide showed these bonuses would still be in effect without the need to display it.
The abilities were weird. I scanned them over. [Mechanical Minion] seemed to create a small creature that would follow basic orders. Fetch this, attack that. It resulted from my [Domestic Core] and looked far less independently capable than Dusk.
Neat, I guess. It required me to donate mass from my own body to do, though. Being a [Mechanoid] was strange in that everything either came from me as a creature or my energy core. This other ability, [Power Suit], came from [Heavy Weapons Core] which I had barely started utilizing. By using some of my extra mass, I could actually equip power armor to have increased [Brawn] and [Endurance].
Both skills required more body size. I did research while standing in the spaceship hangar. Increased size as a [Mechanoid] meant losing [Finesse] and slightly less [Reaction] due to the bulk. I wanted to do it anyway. Every ability picked up would help donate to Hal Pal’s mission, and this character was kind of a throwaway to me.
I loaded up the contribution reward screen using my player interface. Mass was cheap to purchase, and having a [Leviathan] kill provided tons of points for shopping. Tingles rushed across my skin upon selecting the increased size. My legs were glued to the ground as another loading bar came across my screen.
Eventually, an extra twenty pounds brought my [Mechanoid] up to snuff to use both abilities. It also made me feel a half step short of Iron’s giant size. [Wayfarer’s Seven] supplied resources for the change. Everything felt shorter. My head was closer to the ceiling.
First mission, find a reflective surface and flex. The side of our [Wayfarer’s Hope] was good enough.
“Neat.” I felt like a robotic version of Vlad, the Voice from Continue Online. These chest plates were almost impressive. Sending mental impulses into the ARC while trying to strike different poses worked well.
“Rawr,” I said. “Oh look at those arms.”
They were impressive. I needed to work out more in real life and maybe burn off calories faster. My belly flab was starting to sag from rapid weight loss. Toning up would help. I sighed finally and moved on to the next goal.
Hal Pal, or its character Jeeves, was online. Treasure and the real world AI were at least in the same region as each other. I marched forth towards their location.
Walking along the outer rim of our mothership provided a good status update. Apparently we were parked near the asteroid belt. Small ships were shuttling back and forth, there seemed to be a second giant ship in construction nearby. Were they harvesting the dead monster?
The door to Treasure's study opened and there they were, talking while staring at a room full of images. I vaguely recognized parts of it. There were remains of the [Leviathan] on one screen. Numbers calculated resources being gathered by worker drones, which explained my view earlier.
“I estimate these latest improvements will increase our odds.” Hal Pal stated.
“You’re right, Unit Jeeves.” Treasure waved one hand and the screens flickered over. Snapshots of the other giant vessel were brought into focus. “We are far more likely, now approximately sixty-three percent. This is a thirty-one percent increase over the prior estimates.”
“Unit Hermes' plan can be considered an unexpected success.” Hal Pal turned a bit and looked over at me. I was still in the doorway with my jaw dropping. There were too many screens in this room, all of them lit up like some sort of construction foreman's workbench. Forerobot? I shook my head and stopped trying to figure out a politically correct term.
“Yes. Even though it cost some resources for your ship, we will easily double our escort size for this mission.” Treasure responded. She looked so darn serious staring at all the calculations.
“Hi,” I said. This felt like a strange conversation to have. They had basically stated we were all far less likely to die. Exactly how widespread was Hal Pal’s feeling of doom regarding our situation?
“User Legate.” Hal Pal said. Treasure echoed it differently while using my game name instead. Both felt absurdly similar in their actions and how they looked over to me. “How are you?”
“Good, I came to see what the fallout was from our fight before work.”
“Ah. The Consortium has benefited greatly from our reckless attempt at living a little.” Hal Pal’s words made me snort with laughter. I recalled hearing the AI behind me shouting about how our wild space ride was crazy.
“I should log out soon, how long is the Wayfarer staying here? And where to next?” I asked. Hal Pal had explained it once, but I mostly glossed over it in a rush to train piloting skills.
“Arrival will be in ten days at this rate. Then we will pick up our prisoner and transport her to a more secure location. There have been complaints of security issues to her location which require us to move her.” Treasure took over the conversation. With a wave of her hand, the room's projected images were shoved to one side.
“That’s going to take a few days right?” I asked, trying to avoid too much real world descriptions with Treasure. Sometimes NPCs, at least the ones in Continue Online, acted weird when you talked about life outside the box.
“Yes.” She responded.
“Jeeves, I’ll need to visit my sister this weekend, are you willing to come?” I asked while the thought occurred to me.
It hesitated. “If you wish, User Legate.”
The [Mechanoid] version of Hal Pal stared at me. Its foot shifted from unease like any human might. Maybe the idea of meeting my sister was uncomfortable. Oh well, we could talk about it while in the van later.
“Who’s our prisoner?” I switched gears to the projection that Treasure had brought up while Hal Pal and I talked.
Treasure waved at the. “Here, the Lone Tower, one prisoner and a small consortium of Mechanoids tasked with guarding her.” She pressed a button and a second display overrode the first.
The female prisoner on the display seemed familiar. Someone I had met once but only briefly. Her face was sad and body nearly see through. I blinked while chewing on one lip. It would come to me eventually.
For now, work, grinding skills, and dealing with my sister. If I followed Treasure’s timeline right we wouldn’t be at this Lone Tower until Monday night.