Interlude: Journey Part 5
“Yo don’t be so negative anon, we got dis” - Anon2, 3:58 UTC, 18th of March 2034 in response to Anon, on the popular messaging board ‘6tan’.
Matt woke up in a strange place, nothing but white stretching out as far as the eye can see, then reality began to shift and Matt recognised the telltale signs of a VR world loading.
He did not wait long, because he was soon inside a dinky looking office. Plentiful computer screens covering a desk and bible-thick pages stacked everywhere. There was a VR pod next to a cot, both seemed well used. Behind the desk, a man loaded, in front, two women and Matt recognised them.
“Sarah? Denise?” he glanced around, “Where’s Max!?”
“He’s safely sleeping at our new home,” Denise said, reaching out for him before… stopping. “We didn’t want him to hear this.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” he asked. He furrowed his brow, the last thing he remembered was… Alex saying something to him. “Are Alex and Jeremy fine?”
“They are,” the man behind the desk said, “They went through some life-threatening danger but both are safely regenerating back in Europe.”
Matt’s brow furrowed harder, “Back?”
Sarah coughed, “Well this isn’t how we wanted to tell you this but… Welcome to Australia!” she threw her arms outwards in a sort of explanatory gesture.
“This is a shitty office.”
“Sorry,” the man said, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve been meaning to clean up but then I’ll lose where I kept everything.”
“Can we get back to the topic?” Denise asked, and Matt realised her hand was shaking slightly. “Dr Lu, please tell him what you’ve discussed with us.”
The man nodded, “Greetings Matt Nguyen, I am Dr Kevin Lu and I’m your doctor for your current affliction.”
He realised it. “That black crystal. The nanites Alex told me about.” Matt felt like at that moment his heart should’ve clenched, or maybe his would hand tighten, but none of that happened. He wasn’t in his real body.
Dr Lu nodded, “As I am led to understand it, you triggered an Anti-Personnel Mine in the Paris Theatre and was infected with a nanite weapon.” He moved a hand and a video popped up on one of the screens.
“The nanite that has infected you is a modified version of the Frasier R3C2-AP Nanobots, which is used in Anti-Personnel weapons…”
The doctor explained it to him. The three stages, how the nanites slowly brought a person to a vegetative state. His two options.
“So it’s difficult to remove the nanites?” he asked.
Lu shook his head, “Difficult it is not,” his hand moved in the air and the screen changed to another video. It showed one of the nanites attached to a cell and producing a circular chemical. “The nanites attach to your cells to progress from Stage one to two, physical removal of the nanites is not difficult, the problem, however,” he moved his hand again, and this time it showed another nanite ripping the previous out of the cell. The cell’s wall burst and its inside leaked out. “Is preventing cell lysis, which will happen if the nanite is removed from your cell. It isn’t a problem for your normal cells but…”
On-screen, it showed a diagram of his body and the infected portions. His brain was highly infected.
“If your brain is damaged, you may lose memories and I’m afraid that is irrecoverable.”
“And my other option,” Matt slowly asked, “is to be put on ice for how many years?”
“My most generous projections say at least a decade,” the doctor frankly answered. “Removing the nanite is not the problem, it’s finding a method to prevent the lysis of your brain cells.”
“I’ll take the gamble,” he replied.
“Matt!” Denise yelled, she reached to grab him but… her hand passed through him. She flinched, her hand clenching into a ball, “Matt, don’t make a decision that fast. This is life and death here.”
“I just made my decision mum,” he replied, his head turning between her and Sarah, “Ten years is a long time,” he stared at his hands. “Max hasn’t even been alive that long… After ten years would you all be the same people? Would Max even remember me?” Matt asked, his eyes pleading for an answer.
‘Would you still love me? Would I still be welcome in your home?’ Those questions he didn’t ask, for the fear of a loving lie outstripped the hope of a heartful truth.
“I would rather get it over and done with than let it drag out,” he said. “Alex went through it fine didn’t they?” he asked with a small hope.
The doctor shook his head, “They’re in therapy to find out exactly what memories they’re missing and how to deal with them… It is…” he sighed, “If I was a gambling man, I wouldn’t bet on you coming out the same person.”
Matt’s hand clenched. That was fine, even if he forgot Denise, Sarah and Max he can learn to love them again. Perhaps he was selfish, choosing this path because he didn’t want the pain of seeing them forget him, who could tell?
“Regardless of your choice, it will take some time to have everything prepared,” the doctor said, “you’re hooked up with the Hospital’s server, I suggest you three… speak about it within yourselves.”
They nodded, and as they filed out of the office, they found themselves in a place more private.
What was spoken between them that night, is not something we should intrude on.
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Matt wondered the quiet halls of the hospital. Even from his brief looks outside, Oceania seemed so alien to him. The people were nice, they smiled to him as he walked past, the walls were clean and devoid of graffiti and… he stopped himself from instinctively avoiding another camera. From how he understood it, the places where the camera was watching were the only places where he could interact with people in real-world, what was slightly distressing was just how many of these locations existed, even in places where he was sure there wasn’t a camera nearby.
Sometimes other virtual people passed him, but everything about them seemed… too perfect. Even people in the real world, he couldn’t see any kind of physical deformity, skin blemish or even overweight or underweight! Practically everyone looked like some variant of a model and he’d been instinctively trying to avoid them.
Which led him to here.
He was on the top floor of the hospital, on a long flight of dusty stairs that led to a door, it wasn’t locked and when he pushed it open he was outside. He tried to breathe in the outside air, only to remember he couldn’t do that, so instead, he just looked around.
A wide area, with boxish tubes coming out of the floor signifying the numerous ventilators and fans that moved air throughout the hospital. There was a thin wire fence several times taller than him covering the entire edge of the roof. As his eyes moved toward the centre of the roof, he saw something he didn’t expect.
A kid, about the same age as him, black-haired and most surprisingly, kinda pudgy. Like not obesely fat, but enough that there was noticeable potbelly. He was sitting on a ventilator and pulling fries out of a paper fast food bag with a giant M. He turned and apparently saw him, but didn’t comment, instead of turning back and eating his fries.
“You’re from here?” Matt asked as he walked closer. This kid was the first person he saw that was even slightly deviant from the ‘model’ or ‘supermodel’ theme he’s been seeing in the people here, well other than Dr Lu and even then the doctor would look pretty good if he just took a five-month nap.
The boy sighed, “Where else could I be from?” he tiredly replied.
“I dunno,” he answered as he sat on the ventilator next to him, “Europe? America? Some other part of Oceania? Maybe even Mars?”
“Never been anywhere but here,” the boy answered.
“Eating dinner?”
“On the off chance you are not capable of sight, I’ll answer with a yes,” the boy sarcastically replied, “and yes, I am aware I am extremely fat,” he added as he pulled another handful of fries.
Matt chuckled, “Nah, I’ve seen worse, this guy Angelo for one is so big you have to wonder how he even fits in his pods.”
“Huh,” the boy simply answered.
“What do you do around here?”
“Eat.”
Matt shook his head, “Nah, I mean what do you do for fun? Bit new here and I’m getting stir crazy. Got any games or something?”
The boy stared at him as if he were an idiot, “You’re on the hospital server, just open a tab and swipe to them.”
Matt was about to ask how, but thought better and decided to find them himself before the other child had a chance to look at him as if he were stupid again. Shortly, he found it, and with only slightly faked annoyance, he said, “Nah, this shit is all kids games!”
Wasn’t even a lie, was he supposed to play Sudoku to pass time?
The boy sighed, “I can link you up with my AAD if you can stop bothering me?”
“What’s on it?” he asked, slightly intrigued.
The boy swiped the air, “Ygg, Arrowed, PoW…”
“Wait did you say PoW?” he intruded.
He nodded, “Yeap, Path of War, want that one?”
“Sure sure! How do you link me?” Matt asked, feet swinging from the ventilator.
“Your name?” the boy asked.
“Matt Nguyen.”
“Found you,” he replied as he tapped the air a few times.
Declan Lu has opened a LAN, do you wish to-
Matt barely even read the message before he hit yes, and with a cheer he watched the PoW menu load in front of him.
“Finally! I’ve been going crazy doing nothing but walk around and watch videos!” They used a weird site called ‘Ustube’ here, most of the shit on it was boring trope vomits that seemed mindlessly designed to appeal to people. Sure it had higher quality than the stuff in the Metros but it was just shit in a different way.
With glee, he hit the matchmaking queue only for-
Hospital Server has disabled this due to Age-Restricted Content.
“What the fuck!?”
There was a smirk on the other kid, “Yeah, I’m connected to the Hospital net right now and they have blocked a bunch of online shit.” He shrugged, “Guess you can’t play.”
“Ahh!” he yelled in disappointment, before falling to the ground, “Goddamnit that sucks.”
“Mmhmm,” the other boy murmured in agreement, before tossing another handful of fries into his mouth. “Does doesn’t it?”
“Yeah…” suddenly, Matt shot up, “Hol’up, this is a LAN right?”
The other boy nodded, mouth too busy chewing chips to talk.
“Can’t I play with you then?”
The boy shrugged, “Probably,” he replied before manipulating his own menu. “Hmm…” he raised an eyebrow, “Huh, there is such a feature.”
“You don’t know that?” Matt asked. He’s used it plenty of times when connection was spotty. “Never used it with friends or something?”
“Never had friends,” the boy drily answered.
“Yeesh, you’re depressing,” Matt replied as he accepted the invite.
The boy hopped off the ventilator, sitting into a more comfortable position where he was leaning against it and he too accepted the game.
Reality bled out around them as the world slowly loaded.
“Just a warning, I am very good at this.”
“Heh,” the other boy smirked.
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In a frozen wasteland, a figure squat down and with an annoyed huff began operating a holographic device on his arm.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
‘Had to be the freezing cold map,’ Declan thought as he got to the tool he wanted. Opening up the thermal imaging tool, he began to survey the area-
A hand pressed down on his shoulder, “Huh, a full scout spec? You came prepared.”
“What the fuck?” he practically jumped as he realised his opponent was right behind him. “How’d you get-”
“Walked,” Matt casually answered.
Mustering himself, Declan asked, “Then how’d you find-”
“Looked,” Matt casually answered, gesturing at a barely visible line of footprints leading up to him.
“What the hell?” They were in white-out conditions and he managed to catch that? “What kind of eyes do you have?”
He shrugged, “I mean you get used to it after playing on the map so many times.”
Declan regarded his opponent with a newfound wariness, “And you didn’t just shoot me?”
“Naaaah,” he replied as he began walking, “too boring. Was just saying hi, Imma find a new spot and let’s restart.”
Declan didn’t reply, instead, his eyes were glued to the floor as he watched him walk away.
‘No sound,’ he noted, ‘and the footwork seemed to minimalise the weight he was moving with. He barely left any footsteps…’
“Dangit,” Declan muttered. He didn’t put stock in the rumours and memes of people who played PoW so much they accidentally became super-soldiers, but unless that guy knew an exploit he didn’t, then that was very much the real deal. After all, Path of War’s original code was from a VR program the Chinese used to quickly train their clone soldiers. It only became a game after it became apparent that it was the best VR experience in existence from all the bankrolling their military did.
Declan stood and began to move, after all, this might actually be somewhat difficult.
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Matt ran through the frozen expanse, quickly dashing between massive supply crates to minimise exposure. The trail went cold, pun intended, the moment the other player began to move. He paused at a bit of snow that looked like someone had swept it. ‘Covering your tracks or…’
Suddenly Matt leapt backwards, just as a bullet flew through where his head was and embedded itself in the crate next to him. He swiftly took cover just as the second bullet missed him and loaded his own gun.
‘Sniper huh? This’ll be fun.’
Still behind cover, he began to move. Opening the holographic device on his arm, he quickly selected an option that expelled a drone from his belt, then another which caused climbing spikes to pop out of his glove. Holstering his weapon, he grabbed onto the wall of a crate and climbed.
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‘Lost him again,’ Declan thought as he opened his wrist device. His opponent was good, good enough he didn’t miss a small detail like swept snow. ‘Did he jump knowing it was a trap or was just making a lucky guess?’ Didn’t matter, he stared at the tracker, if his opponent used any electronics then he would know. There was a ping, south of him, he brought up his sniper rifle facing that direction and-
A small, tube-like object was suddenly thrown in front of him.
‘Flashbang!’ Declan fell to the ground, minimising his exposed area as bullets flew overhead. It came from west of him. The flash barely lasted a second, but Declan was already forced into a disadvantageous position. The bullets stopped, and he heard the sound of a magazine being ejected.
Declan jumped up, sniper rifle raised, only to see a silenced pistol pointing at him.
Both fired, but Matt was faster.
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The map was called Nuclear York, an island filled with bombed out buildings and the husks of hundreds of vehicles, based on an actual place like most maps. Matt moved as he usually did, completely silent on the dust and asphalt, before stopping as he saw the casing of a stim pack on the ground. Immediately he jumped back, getting behind a car and dodging the bullet.
“Again,” he muttered in annoyance. Matt activated the same options on his wrist, before moving again undercover.
Once again, the drone pinged them the wrong location while Matt threw a flashbang into the room where he saw the sniper muzzle. Once again he laid down fire with his rifle before the other player jumped out to capitalise on the reload.
Once again, Matt had his pistol pointing at them. The bullet struck him in the head, but they shot another into Matt and killed him.
‘What?’
From the death replay, Matt noticed his bullet didn’t penetrate, and that his opponent was no longer holding the high-powered sniper rifle from before.
“Shit you respecced didn’t you,” he muttered as the other shrugged beside him. They swapped out their rifle for maxed body armour, that’s why they survived the first shot.
“Again.”
A different map, but a similar paradigm. His opponent was holed up again and Matt had to flush him out.
This time, he threw the flash then immediately went in. Only three bullets in his rifle and it was one too many.
Again they played.
The other player was on the move this time, Matt was able to track them but he left mines in his path and he was forced to take detours. It was when he was running through an alley he saw a grenade being thrown into it.
Again.
Matt learned his tricks, and this time shot him from behind where he was planning to throw the grenade.
Again.
Matt kicked down the door, only to him pull several springs, causing a dozen clicks. His opponent survived the grenade blast by the skin of his nose.
Again.
He realised something as they fought, his opponent had a worse reaction time than him, not bad enough it was obvious, but enough that when he dragged him into an open gunfight he emerged victorious.
Again.
They took a drone spec this time, as Matt was distracted by the drones he was finished off with a pistol from behind…
Again.
Matt managed to snipe him even when harried by…
Again.
Fucker blew up the building…
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again…
Matt didn’t know when he began grinning through every match. Nor when he started slapping his opponents back and chatting amicably with him in the downtime between. He just did.
For how long did the two of them play? Time bled away as they both fought their tiny war. In the middle of it, Matt realised with surprise that he had altered his strategy and build dozens of times just in the past hour to match with the other. A constant battle of one-upping, Matt was faster and better in terms of all physical mechanics, but his opponent seemed to know every weapon and build combination like the back of his hand. Constantly pulling out increasingly strange and unexpected combinations. Each time Matt tried to smash through them, and he did not always succeed.
Then came the last match.
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Declan scoffed as he put away the scrambled wrist device, “Fucking horrible map,” he muttered as he stared at the blank desert-like expanse, only a line of blackened rods breaking up the scenery.
“Yeah, sucks doesn’t it,” Declan wasn’t even surprised that his opponent had managed to sneak up on him again. Leaning on one of the rods, he said, “Mongolian Border’s a bitch to play with any high-tech build.”
Specifically, the rods that went in a line as far as the eye could see. They were irradiated thorium rods constantly emitting radiation which screwed up most signalling devices. Their actual purpose was to act as a barrier against SANs, the radiation was enough that the nanite got scrambled into a more useless form if it ever came near, not that it mattered in-game of course.
“How bout this?” Matt began as he pulled out a small timed explosive, “Let’s do this old-west style. I’ll set a timer and we move away, on the explosion we shoot each other.”
“Why the sudden need for theatrics?” Declan asked every other fight they had usually had them barely aware of where each other were until too late.
Matt shrugged, “Got a message calling me back, gonna be my last game tonight. Want it to be a bang.”
“Oh.”
“Or I suppose morning,” Matt said as he laid the bomb next to the rod.
“Jesus, time passed that fast?” Declan asked as he swiped open a menu.
“Yeah,” Matt fondly said, “passes so fast when you’re having fun innit?”
The other boy seemed taken aback for a moment, “I… yeah, I suppose.”
“One-twenty seconds alright?”
“Sure,” he answered and Matt started the count. Cheerfully hopping back up, he said, “Let’s take our places.”
But the other boy was already moving away.
“Gee could’ve waited for me,” Matt muttered as he began moving.
Both were moving away. Both had their hands on their weapons.
In the past, a pro-gamer said this, that to become a pro, you needed two things.
One, the pure and raw mechanical skill that if a battle ever comes down to the coin flip, when the odds were against you, you won every time.
‘I’ve seen this guy move, he’s definitely slower than me,’ Matt thought as he strode away.
Two, the planning, knowledge and tactical acumen, to make situations where the odds were against you, the coin flip, never happen. To stack the coin so much it is never flipped.
‘Eighty-six, eighty-five, eighty-four…’ Declan counted as he walked away. The moment the bomb was set, he began counting. ‘Be the first to know when the bomb detonates. Move to the left to use the small smoke cover of the explosive. Bank on those heartbeats of advantage…’
If a player had both, then they were a pro.
The bomb exploded and both players instantly turned and raised their weapons.
Two shots were fired.
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“Aaah!” the other boy yelled as he rubbed his head, “Goddamnit why do I need to leave!?”
Declan didn’t answer, instead, sitting listlessly behind them, mind engrossed in thought.
“Oh well,” the boy shrugged. “Hey you better be here tomorrow!” he said, pointing directly at him.
“It is tomorrow,” Declan answered as he gestured at the rising sun.
“You know what I mean!” the other boy exasperatedly said, “Either way cya! I have a damn doctor’s appointment to be at.”
Declan mutely nodded as the other boy began to leave, but he stopped a few moments before the door. “Oh shit I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Matt Nguyen! Good to see ya!”
“Declan Lu,” he said, but Matt was already gone.
The boy sat there for a long time, the fries by his side already cold.
“Fun huh…” he quietly said. Declan hopped off the ventilation tube and simply stared at the morning sky.
Slowly, he began walking towards the square-ish box that led downstairs, but instead of going in, he went around, to behind it, where the wire fence was only a few centimetres away.
There, in the wire fence, behind the door, hidden from the cameras, was a perfectly cut hole.
Slowly, Declan sat, staring at the thing he made, he didn’t do it all in one sitting, even if he could’ve. It was the work of months, some days where he just snipped a part off, until they added up, leaving nothing but a hole.
Wrist cuts wouldn’t have done the trick, any kind of slow death would’ve led to his Somatic Implant alerting an ambulance. A hanging wouldn’t have worked, even if he choked to death so long as his brain remained he could be fully revived. And he couldn’t get ahold of a weapon capable of destroying his brain quickly.
That was why he made the hole. A fall from eight stories high. If he aimed it right nothing could be retrieved.
As for why he did this. He no longer remembered exactly. Could he even give a single reason, if he knew them?
There was one thing, however, he knew.
How many times he has come up to this roof. How many times other people have seen him come up here. Yet how many of them have joined him up here? How many of them have found the hole?
No one. He simply didn’t matter enough for people to bother and every day this hole went unnoticed, was another day that proved it. That in the end, no one cared. No one would care.
“Tomorrow huh…” he muttered. Slowly he shrugged and moved away from the hole in the fence, pulling open the doors and entering the hospital.
‘It doesn’t matter either way.’
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Matt once again stood in Dr Lu’s office. Eyes engrossed on the animatic on the screen, showing the nanite replicating.
The nanite split in two, one entrenched itself into a cell and began producing signals, the other received them and began attacking a nerve. When it was destroyed, it released an acid that damaged nearby cells and signalled other free-floating nanites to replicate.
“Are you sure of your decision Matt?” the doctor asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
The doctor only sighed, “May I at least know why, before your parents come?”
Matt stared at the video. Thinking for a long moment before speaking, “I just believe something.”
The doctor waited on him to elaborate.
“I feel like…” he paused, thinking of the right words, “that every moment we have matters. Every moment means something, and if I don’t make the most of it, if I don’t enjoy it as much as I can, do I even deserve it?”
The doctor was silent, but after a while, he nodded, “I understand where you’re coming from. Somedays I wish I could clone my mind a dozen times just so that one could be active even when I sleep.”
“We never have enough do we,” Matt said quietly. That was why he didn’t want to be put in stasis, all the time he would lose. All the ties he had made. Friendship, family, they were like a garden, requiring constant care, but withering with a season of negligence.
“No,” the doctor answered, a sad smile on their own face, “we don’t.”
A moment of silence passed, before Matt spoke again, “Hey doc?”
“Yes?”
“Radiation therapy won’t work right?”
The doctor shook his head, “You still have the problem of the nanites attached to your brain cells, except now I can’t use my own to try to patch up any damage.”
Matt stared silently at the video.
“I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
“These nanites,” he said, turning to the doctor, “the new replicated ones aren’t in an activated state are they?”
“No, they aren’t,” the doctor shook his head, “if you’re thinking of using some kind of signal disrupter, know that the signals used to activate the nanite are all similar to chemicals and proteins your body heavily needs. Disrupting even one could outright kill you. An identical inhibitor could be used, but according to this it would still activate off that.”
Matt stared at the doctor. Thinking. Last night, he fought a person that needed constant adaptation, a constantly shifting perspective just to keep up with them.
To face the Declan, Matt had to learn to use and counter things that he couldn’t expect. He had to learn the unlearnable. He had to deeply understand his opponent and their intentions. It was a first for him, for before everyone else rolled over with his simple skill.
“I have an idea,” he slowly began, the smallest fear that what he was proposing was dumb. “If the nanites only produced the signals upon scanning and attaching to certain cells then… why don’t we just remove every cell that creates a signal?”
The doctor stared at him dumbstruck for a single moment before he jumped out of his seat. Hands moving frantically over his virtual interface.
“... Why didn’t I think of… No, the better question is why isn’t it in the records the company gave us?” he muttered. He grabbed a blank page and pen and began furiously scribbling on it. “Mcdothra didn’t give us full treatment records… Doesn’t fucking matter, which cells need to be removed? Fingers and toes at least, maybe up to the entire limb… Liver and heart? Fuck can’t remove bone marrow or blood… or bone for that matter…”
The doctor was like that for a few frantic moments, before he finally said, “I don’t know, I’m going to need to call in some special help with prosthetics and this isn’t a permanent solution but…”
“I think it might work, at least, till we find a permanent safe solution.”
Matt turned and looked at the video, seeing it once again from the perspective of the nanite maker.
The purpose of the nanite was to cripple, not to kill.
So why not become a cripple? After all,
‘Every moment matters, even those where I’m not fully there. So long as some part of me is there.’
“Let's try it then.”