4

After Ned got done swearing, which lasted a long... long time, he said, "Why would anybody be upset? Because Hughie, it means the game, the world, you know, the one where we live? It’s essentially unstable and you've just told me we're in ironman mode, right? No save games and no respawning? Permadeath?"

Hughie said, "Well — "

"See? Taken from my family and brought here only to glitch out and die because a programmer couldn't foresee an instance of someone taking a healing potion and a potion of Barkskin or something at the same time? Next you'll tell me that the whole place is run by Ars Electronica!"

Hughie said, "Ars what?"

Ned sat down. "AE Games? Famous for launching too early with tons of game-destroying bugs and glitches and being slow to fix them? Oh, man."

Hughie put a hand on Ned's shoulder to steady him. "First, it would be more accurate to say that the bus and your actions took you from your family, no matter how heroic — "

"It wasn't heroic," Ned spat. "A kid was in trouble." Ned was breathing hard, surprised by his own anger. It was true that Ned liked the UI, he couldn’t help it, but it was also true that he didn’t know Hughie very well or fully understand his motivations, and that was doubly true for Hughie’s creators. That pissed him off.

Hughie held up his hands, both a staying gesture and one made in supplication. "All I'm saying is that you were rescued, as well as you could be, by the designers of this place, as opposed to 'taken,' and no one here works for AE Games or would want to. Certain safeguards have been taken. You'll not glitch out to death, okay? That’s a rule. And nothing can really break the game at this point. Not really. Most bugs will be instantly fixed as you notice them. Those should be pretty rare and harmless, like tripping over a rock that isn't there or an inexplicable cold spot in a warm room. That'll feel normal because it happens all the time, right? If you see something out of the corner of your eye, like a face where one shouldn't be, you're like, 'That's odd,' and you take another look only to find it isn't a face at all but a curious arrangement of something or other that suggests a face. That could have been your mind playing tricks on you, or it could have been what we call a Tier One bug. It's fixed the moment it's logged and you, the player, chalk it up to human nature and the imperfect quality of your perception, and the vagaries of pattern recognition. A perfectly normal double-take."

Ned looked up. He nodded. "Brains are weird."

Hughie was nodding. "Yes, they are. Now, a Tier Two bug is when you do something the Developers didn't expect. It may be a loophole in their logic that, say, allows you to do something it's doubtful they'd want you to be able to do."

Ned squinted. "Like what?"

"I don't know exactly. Sink through the floor of a poorly coded building? Step off a cliff and not fall somehow? It's really hard to come up with stuff they haven't thought of. If you manage to do it, and it’s reasonable, they'll either let you keep that ability but restrict its use for everybody else, or they'll offer you magic or a spell or something commensurate with its import."

"So, if I find a couple of strange rocks and bang them together, and that somehow wipes out a city, I get to keep that ability but nobody else can do it?"

Hughie snorted. "Well, yes, essentially, though I doubt they'll let you keep something like that and offer you a tempting choice of powerful magic or gear as a reward for finding it. A Tier Two bug, once discovered, is limited to its discoverer if that's what's chosen, and then written out for everybody else. Nobody will even notice."

“So, I’m a beta-tester with benefits? A Quality Assurance guy but they’ll pay me in healing potions and loot?”

“Something like that.”

"Does that happen a lot?" Ned asked. “Do people find bugs?”

"Not often, no, but I think that's one of the reasons you were chosen. Why everybody brought here as a player was chosen. You think well outside the box on a regular basis. They think you'll find bugs and when you do, you'll benefit from them. There's no danger. Not from bugs in the system."

"That's what they said about the Titanic."

"Look, the final type is a Tier Three. Something fundamental that breaks the whole place. We haven't had one in three hundred years back when we didn’t even have players. When it happened, the simulation crashed, backed itself up, rebooted, short-term memories were wiped, and everything and everyone here restarted just as it was with none the wiser. The primary purpose of this place is to preserve and grow life, intelligence, and culture. They take it very seriously."

Ned arched an eyebrow. "It seems like its second purpose is to put all that at risk."

"The idea is that it’s risk and struggle that generates growth, intelligence, and culture. I think that's part of what they're testing here."

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"They. The Designers. Who are they?"

"I don't know. I've never met one."

"Yeah, you just work here. Figures."

Hughie sat down in the sand beside Ned who began tossing small rocks into the pool. After a long moment and many pebbles, Ned sighed. "This is a nice place," he said. "It is kind of boring though. Probably, I needed that."

Hughie nodded. "From what I could tell of your psychology and history, I thought this would be a good place to bring you in. I'm glad you like it."

“You made that determination?”

“Yes. It’s part of my basic programming.”

"Thanks, Hughie." Ned tossed his last pebble. "Okay, so this character sheet of mine needs fixing, right?" Ned waved a hand and summoned the character sheet window.

"Yes! That's where we start. Some of your skills are not of any use here. There are no rifles or shotguns or computers here, for example. The first thing to do is free up those points, delete those skills, and redistribute those points to more useful places more suitable to this setting."

"Thank God. A player of mine comes to me with this sheet and I'm sending him back to get it right. Back when I ran games. Or I break out my rulebooks, hold his hand, and walk him through it." Ned grimaced. “Look, the world is breakable and I’m supposed to break it while living here. It seems to me like I’d better get the whole character thing right. I’m going to be like whatever we build here for the rest of my life.”

Hughie was looking at a duplicate screen, his brows knit as he scrolled up and down. "This isn't really that bad."

Ned gave him a look. "Yes, it is.” Ned hesitated. “Look, I have to live here. I have to get this right and you'd better believe I'm going to listen closely to your advice. I have to hold myself to a really high standard if I want to be successful and you, my friend, are the key right now to help me do that. I've been playing games like this since I was twelve. I've run them for just as long. Played video games since pong and played multi-player online games before there were even graphics on our internet. Together, we can get this right. I trust you. You trust me. But, before we can fix this sheet I need to know some things. There's more to the game than this, right? Skills I can't get right away because I'm not high enough level? Hidden abilities? If I'm going to plan long term, I need to know whatever I’m allowed to know."

Hughie scratched at his rock with a fingernail. "Fair enough. What would you like to know? Where should we start?"

They worked a long time. Ned knew it was better to have a bunch of important skills up pretty high, especially some combat skills. That would help him survive. However, it was stupid to put all his points into that kind of thing. He could be a world-class swordsman, for example, but some asshole should sneak up behind him and brain Ned with a rock. Also, life wasn’t just about survival. He had to live here too.

Hughie told him that the system kept track of what skills he’d used by placing little Xs beside them. He wouldn’t have to remember it all himself for his rest and reflection period.

"There's a few skills that aren't on here. Is there a way to add them?" Ned asked.

Hughie blinked. "What skills are missing?" He scooted over to look at Ned's window as well, even though he had an exact copy right in front of him. It was a very human thing to do. It was easy to forget that Hughie was an impressive AI.

"Well, I’d like Teaching and Learning. And Linguistics would seem to be a good idea unless everybody here speaks the same language?" Ned said, pointing at where they would be alphabetically on the sheet.

“They don’t.” Hughie was frowning. "Well, Linguistics is a Professional Skill under the Language category. You’ll probably be offered that anyway, eventually. The other two are built into the game already. Anybody can try to teach anybody else a skill they already have. It’s not its own skill. Learning is what happens when you check a skill you used successfully and make your improvement roll."

"And most role-playing games have a mechanism so that I can learn new skills from books and from trainers, but shouldn't there be a way to do that really well?"

“Ned –”

“What have I spent my entire adult life doing?" Ned stood and began to pace. "Yeah, a swordsman can teach somebody to swing a sword, but does that make him a teacher? A master painter might be wonderful at painting but might have no patience for a student. Still, someone who is good at learning might learn from the man anyway. It was my profession, goddammit. You know, now that I think of it, I've never seen teaching or learning as a basic skill in a game, and let me tell you not all learners are the same, my friend. Some do it fast, some do it slow, some can barely do it, and most of the time it's completely dependent upon the subject and the student's interest, things that are often mitigated completely by a fucking teacher!"

"Okay."

“What? What’s okay?”

“They said yes. I just got an internal notification. Teaching and Learning are skills we can try. They are willing to try it out with you.”

"Oh," said Ned. "They are?"

"Yes, but Learning is set at thirty percent and cannot be raised. Trying to do something is different from trying to learn something.” Hughie held up a small stone, glossy and wet from the pool. “If I try to hit a minnow with a rock, that’s a one-off. I’d use my Throw skill. If I’m trying to learn how to do it, that’s different, requiring careful thought, experiment, and study. If I’m successful, I learn a new skill. A base score is determined, and I roll to improve it like normal. If I fail. I can try again later.”

“At thirty percent?”

“For now,” said Hughie. “If it works, they might keep it or make changes. If it doesn’t, they’ll take it away and refund your points. Do you agree?”

Ned was surprised. “My agreement is required?”

“For something like this? Yes.”

“Very well, I agree.”

Hughie looked pleased.

So was Ned. “See? I kinda know what I’m doing. Been here five minutes and I’ve already changed the game!”

Hughie was looking at him, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he said, "You've been here almost five months, Ned."

Ned had to sit down again. All that time. Sitting. Staring at the pool.

“I… I had no idea.”

“It’s a bit longer than normal. The beings in charge of this place aren’t monsters. We can take our time. We’ll leave the safe zone when you’re ready.”

"Well, it’s still like I said. Five minutes. The total amount of time I've been able to function and converse with you without being an asshole.”

They stood there. Ned kicked a stone into the pool.

"Well," said Hughie, clearing his throat. "That's enough of that." He waved a hand and a copy of Ned's character sheet reappeared in front of him. "Shall we finish this up?"

Ned stood and said, "Let's."