The FAST took about thirty seconds to explain things in more detail. I, as a chaser, got one chance. If I died, that was it, game over. FASTs, however, were afforded three deaths per stage. On Stage One, the first two would last about an hour before the unit regenerated. However, upon the third death, it would be permanently expired, dead, finito.
In short, it would be destroyed and I’d be down a party member. Mind you, I was having a hard time envisioning many scenarios in which this flying bug zapper was killed on three separate occasions, while I somehow managed to scrape by – unless maybe I figured out a way to use it as a shield.
That all said, the clock was still ticking so it was time to end this speculation for now and get back to work.
“Put at least ten points into strength,” the FAST told me. “You’ll need it because I can’t help with that part. For Stage One, what you see is what you get. No arms and legs equals physical strength being my dump stat – for now anyway. Focus on me and see for yourself.”
I did, concentrating on the FAST until my HUD display changed.
Party Member: FAST – Undisclosed – Level 3
I held that view for a moment, getting used to how it felt calling things up in this new overlay to my vision, then I refocused on its stats. It took a second or two, but then I saw them plain as day.
STR: 0
INT: 198
WIS: 96
DEX: 100
CON: 120
CHA: 18
PSI: 70
“Holy shit!” I cried, seeing how much better it was than me in almost everything.
It made an up and down motion that reminded me of a shrug. “That’s what happens when you’re a superior lifeform. Duh.”
Mind you, I couldn’t help but notice its shitty charisma score. Can’t say I was all too surprised by that.
“Hold on. You said strength was your dump stat for now. What exactly does that mean?”
All I got in return, though, was more annoyed buzzing, no doubt to reinforce that I needed to hurry my ass along.
In the end, I spread my thirty points across three stats. Ten points to Strength as advised. Another ten points went toward Constitution because the health bar showing in my HUD looked way too flimsy for my liking. Then, after listening to descriptions for the rest, I decided to put the remaining ten into Wisdom.
The FAST wasn’t a fan of that choice but it made perfect sense to me.
From the sound of things, Wisdom amounted to the equivalent of in-game hints. Not quite cheats, as the FAST explained, but little things that could influence events. For instance, it could be the difference between stepping on a trap vs spotting a small indentation in the floor ahead – something that would give me a clue that things were amiss.
I had little doubt many of the other chasers were almost certainly pumping up their battle stats in every way they could, so I figured a slight bump toward a discount spidey sense might not be the worst choice.
I guess I’d soon find out.
That done, the FAST said, “Okay, moving on. Time to check your achievements and gear up.”
“But I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Sure you have,” they explained. “Remember that qualifying round? It counts. It all counts. The Committee submind assigned to each chaser monitors you and then makes suggestions to the overmind regarding your starting loot. It’s designed to ensure everyone begins the Chase with a fighting chance.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“Just be forewarned, they seldom opt for fairness if there’s entertainment value to be had.”
“That’s less good.”
“Pretty much. In certain cases, depending on the circumstance, they’ll either over or under compensate. Just be ready for either.”
“Okay, but what about you?” I asked.
“Once the Chase is underway, I’ll be eligible for my own achievements. For now, though, this is a chaser only perk – meant to compensate for the current level disparity between us.”
“Fair enough.”
The FAST instructed me how to enable notifications on my SK. Once I did, my HUD filled with text notifying me of what I’d been awarded.
Here goes nothing.
I mentally focused on the first one, preparing to read it.
Instead, Drega’s voice suddenly blared throughout the tavern.
“Achievement unlocked! Welcome to the Chase! You’re not a winner yet, chaser, in fact you probably never will be, but that remains to be seen. At least you have a chance now. Just try not to disappoint us all by dying instantly. Reward: 1 STD supply box.”
“Fairly standard,” The FAST remarked. “Keep going.”
“Hold up! What the fuck is an STD box?” I asked.
“Cool your jets, champ, it’s not what you think. It stands for Seize The Day.”
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“Then why couldn’t he just say that?”
“Because I’m sure some chucklefuck in marketing found it hilarious considering your species’ ... proclivities.”
I gritted my teeth. “Fine, whatever. So what does it mean?”
“Simple. There are six tiers of rewards. The most common three are STD, aka daily, Fortnight, and Olympiad.”
“Fortnight? As in the game?”
“As in the measure of time, doofus,” it said. “They’re effectively the equivalent of bronze, silver, and gold loot crates, but with a time theme stapled onto them. Get used to that, you’re gonna see it a lot.”
“Okay,” I replied, trying to make sense of that. “And the other three?”
“They’re Century, Millennium, and Epoch. Those are much rarer, but they also contain much better goodies. I wouldn’t count on seeing those last two make an appearance until maybe Stage Three or Four at the earliest. We’re talking epic gear here. You’ll need to do something exceptional to earn those, which, let’s face facts, you haven’t – at least not yet.”
I began to think maybe this so-called Committee had been generous in awarding the FAST 18 points toward charisma. Nonetheless, rather than make a stink I moved on.
Once again, Drega’s voice cried out.
“Achievement unlocked! Dino Dan! When faced with danger, you didn’t Dino Dan, you dino ran. But hey, sometimes the key to survival is knowing when to hold them versus knowing when to fold them. And since this is one case where the dealer, AKA us, stacked the deck, you probably made the right choice. Reward: 1 Fortnight gear box.”
Okay. Stupid description aside, that sounded okay. Next up...
“Achievement unlocked! Chapped Lips Sink Ships! Holy fuck nuts, chaser. You arrived here with nothing but what’s in your pockets and that doesn’t amount to much. Too bad the mobs don’t accept credit cards. But hey, if that chaps your ass at least you have some lip balm to sooth it. This one’s a gift because dead meat with soft kissable lips is still dead meat. Reward: 1 Olympiad weapon box.”
“Ooh, that’s promising,” the FAST said.
“Does Drega actually have to announce all of these?”
“No. Plegraxious and a few others will chime in from time to time. But mostly it’s him.”
“So does that mean everyone gets the exact same achievements?”
“Not at all,” that replied. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, then how does he have time to record all of these for ten-thousand people?”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” the FAST said. “Drega’s a 9th evolutionary. To capitalize on his popularity, he subcontracts out portions of his consciousness as a side gig. And trust me, he has the mental overhead to back it up. He could literally record thousands of these simultaneously while still retaining enough focus to do his taxes – if that was something he had to worry about, which it isn’t.”
That made zero sense but I still had one more to unlock, so...
“You do have a point, though,” it continued. “There’s nothing we can do about his voice, but we should probably switch the feed to interparty cortexing only. That’ll at least keep other chasers and their FASTs from snooping.”
“How do I do that?”
It made a buzzing noise then said, “You know what, we don’t have the time. Transfer party leadership to me and I’ll take care of it. Faster that way.”
“All right. And I do that how?”
“Focus first on the phrase Party Leader and then on me.”
“Okay...”
Guess I was starting to get used to the interface, because only a few moments passed before a notice popped up on my HUD.
Party leader role has been transferred to member: FAST.
There came a beat then I received another notification that audio had been disabled for achievements.
“So now no one else will hear them?”
“Nobody in the game,” they said. “The audience will, as will the sub and overminds.”
“And is there any way to turn that part off?”
“No can do,” the FAST replied. “We can designate private cortexing channels so we can chat, strategize, or bitch to each other, but achievements are designed to be for the audience’s benefit as much as ours. Ditto for most everything else in the Chase. Great for those who are into the voyeur scene, a bit less so for the rest of us.”
Wonderful. Sadly, complaining was nothing but a waste of time, so instead I just opened my final notification.
I heard this one as easily as I had the rest, only this time it was only inside my head.
Achievement unlocked! Just Desserts!
Congratulations. You are the first chaser to be attacked by another chaser. Interestingly enough, you’re also the first chaser to survive being attacked by another chaser.
Reward: 1 Century gear box along with the joy of not experiencing the inside of a caveman’s digestive tract.
“Holy macaroni,” the FAST cried, obviously surprised. “Maybe we need to thank Borlack for trying to take a piece out of you. It’s almost unheard of for a chaser to be thrown a Century reward this early.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s also pretty much unheard for anyone to try and fucking eat me.”
“Have you considered switching up colognes?”
“What?”
“Never mind,” it said. “Just open your damned boxes. We don’t have all day.”
I once more turned my attention to the HUD – focusing this time on my inventory. It was divided into two sections – active and pending. All four boxes were listed in pending.
Here goes nothing.
“Start with the STD box and work up from there.”
I shook my head. STD box. Someone really needed to be punched in the dick for that one.
I turned my focus toward it, hoping my crotch didn’t start itching as a result.
Instead, a rather unremarkable wooden chest materialized in the room directly in front of me.
Huh. That was kind of cool, in a terrifying way since it once again drove home the point that everything happening here was being orchestrated by beings so advanced that they might as well be wizards using actual magic.
I reached for the box, but the FAST made a buzzing noise instead. “Don’t bother. It’s all part of the SK’s system, so you can just open it with your mind instead. Much faster that way, especially if you need to equip something new right before a battle.”
“If you say so.”
I did as told, only to watch as the box poofed away with a sparkle of light, leaving two objects floating in midair. Text appeared above them both.
Potion Healing – 2
Nutradisk – 50
“As expected, basic stuff,” the FAST said. “Healing potions are a must at any level. As for the nutradisks, well, let’s just say that outside of any sick fucks in the audience, nobody wants to watch a chaser slowly starve to death.”
The wafers looked about as appetizing as cardboard. “Please tell me those aren’t the only food in this place.”
“Not at all. Those are strictly emergency rations, just in case. Pretty standard fair for the last several hundred quinks anyway.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why? What happened before then?”
“As I’ve mentioned, my memories of past Chases have been limited, but I believe the answer can be summed up as: you really don’t want to know.”
“Why would they do that?” I held up a hand. “I mean limit your memories, not the other stuff.”
It let out another sigh, despite possessing no discernible means of respiration. “Every Chase is different. But, as they all fall under the purview of the Committee and those who serve it, there’s bound to be similar themes from time to time. There’s also the audience’s whims to take into account. Whenever a particular stage ends up being a big hit, you can be sure they’ll revisit it in some form. Limiting the memories of FAST units who’ve competed in previous cycles gives us enough for some flavor text but keeps us from offering insight that might actually serve as cheating – whether intentional or not.”
“Wait. So you’ve played this stupid game before?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“How many times?”
“Unknown, but I have partial access to memory cells going back at least nine-hundred and seventy-two quinks.”
Holy shit! It had been doing this for that long? Christ on a cracker! That meant this fucking shit show had been broadcasting long enough to be on the air back when humanity was still trying to figure out fire.
More important, though, was what the FAST had told me when it came to the conditions for obtaining its freedom.
It needed to be partnered with a chaser who won.
If I was reading this right, then the smartass ghost light I was stuck with had been doing this for over ten-thousand years without once managing to grab the proverbial brass ring.
Oh yeah. If I hadn’t thought I was fucked before, I sure as shit did now.