Continue Online (Part 3, Realities) (64 page)

"We owe you no more than you've already received. The gift you were given works only on those outside our little bubble," the Jester further explained.

I nodded. There was an answer there. The idea had come to mind before.
[NPC Conspiracy]
was limited to those outside this blackened side of the room. Yet, there were clearly two sides. Hermes, the large sword wielding human who traveled around was one side. Hermes, the
[Mechanoid]
who negotiated to save the lives of his people, was the other.

"ARC," I said.

"Awaiting input."

"I need Hal Pal." Asking for Jeeves seemed impossible. Jeeves might be dead, he might not be. I would soon find out. That was the entire point of this, aside from being angry at the Voices. My new plan was to get the Hal Pal units to agree with me and hope they outnumbered the Voices, or that they could connect us directly.

From there I would plead my case.

"Inquiry, Hal Pal units are numerous, please quantify your request," my ARC said.

"All of them," I responded. Multiple Voices stared at me from the darkness.

"Confirm." The ARC device required verification for this action. I could swear I heard the surprised confusion in its tone, but the machine wasn't programmed for emotions.

Was it?

I stared at the Jester's face. It looked back with that ever-present grin that felt disturbingly amused. James stood to one side, hands clasped over his belly. Behind them, and numerous other Voices, was a single pillar of light, shining down on the book. My book, Continue Online's representation of this journey so far.

If this was to be the story of my life, then perhaps it was time to stop limping along. Steadily working toward a goal had gotten me this far, but simply progressing wasn't enough. I had to push back, to scream in rage. Only it had been so long since I dared feel that level of anger. It went against my very nature to be this upset.

Being tested endlessly, being pushed, it was a lot to bear. Either the Voices needed to work with me, or stop interfering with my hopes of being with Xin's digital continuation. Either I was accepted for who I was, or I wasn't.

"All of them," I said.

The world sat noiselessly for five seconds, ten, then thirty. After that, the gray side of the room started to ripple as units appeared from the real world. At first, only a few showed up. Dozens started streaming in, hundreds and the group kept growing.

As the Hal Pal units appeared, Voices started fading in. The room was becoming crowded, and my vision wasn't wide enough to take it all in. Hal Pal and Advance Online took up one side. Continue Online and the Voices occupied the dark half. Uniform rows of Hal Pal units mirrored a motley crew of Voices.

Those Hal Pal units that came into being started overlapping each other to stack in clumps. A pile of ten merged with another gathering until only a few Hal Pal units existed against a fading wall of Voices.

"User Legate." One of them nodded in my direction.

I would have waved, but my arms were barely responsive.

There were new beings appearing on the Advance Online side that did not resemble Hal Pal units. They were sleek and gray, with rubbery skin that mimicked human skin. These new ones were odd creatures, a giant analog clock with jets on its back, stylish trash cans, and dozens more.

I tried to understand what each possible AI related to in the real world but gave up. This show, like the Voices before, left me momentarily sidetracked.

"What are those?" My eyes drifted towards a bundle of small lights. They looked like miniature suns spitting off small waves of plasma.

"Those are microwaves," one Hal Pal unit said, a muted smile on its face. "They dream of being stars, remember, User Legate?"

"I thought you said it was a joke."

"It is," a Hal Pal confirmed while nodding.

I didn't know how to evaluate their statement. The idea that Hal Pal hadn't been joking when speaking of other AIs startled me. My head shook. This virtual world made it fairly easy to get distracted. In here, no one needed to follow the normal means of travel. Voices appeared and disappeared. Multiple AIs occupied one space and spoke with a singular tone.

It was overwhelming for a simple human. This was akin to swimming with whales in the ocean. They were giant creatures who could do laps around me while my body barely tread water to stay afloat. This was a virtual ocean to drown in. The ground only existed because someone programmed a plane to stand on.

Did other players know? Were they aware of the beings that loomed inside the machine looking down, judging, evaluating, and pulling strings? Shuffling people around like puzzle pieces that didn't quite match. How simple did we look to beings like the Voices?

The Advance Online gray landscape was filled with a varied crowd now. Voices faded in and out as interest waxed and waned. This felt like watching an army of cats stare at one made of dogs. Finally, both masses looked to be done with their posturing and turned toward me.

I blinked once for a few seconds. That was a lot of eyes facing this way. My head shook again trying to reduce the amount of feedback being presented. The AIs registered my being bewildered and half of both crowds faded away.

"You called us all, User Legate, how can we help you?" one of the remaining Hal Pal bodies said.

I froze. My stupid desires destroyed the Jeeves personality. I could have waited out my time patiently and gone back to Continue Online. Xin wasn't being deleted, or uninstalled, or moved to a far away digital land.

"I'm sorry." Keeping it together was easier than it used to be. "I failed, and Jeeves paid the price. Treasure, Aqua, the others. They shouldn't have died just to help. I know-" I wanted to pull at my hair. Both hands moved just a little, enough to rub one eye in agitation, "-I know they're just data, and that some will be okay, but they suffered for me. Jeeves especially."

An image crossed my mind of the AI tearing out his own heart to give to Treasure. That one instance had demonstrated the former Hal Pal member's ability to feel pain. How bad had the final blows which shattered Jeeves been? My chest ached as I tried to understand that level of damage.

"What can be done?" I said, my words felt weak. I wanted to yell, but the Voices' song and dance distracted me long enough to drain the rage.

I remained in place, straddling the line between virtual worlds, staring at a representation of the ARC device. My eyes were dry. The quivering nervousness that might have accompanied such a stance between all these virtual giants was absent. I was used to fighting huge monsters like the
[Leviathan]
. The AIs didn't scare me, but pushing them was clearly impossible.

Being able to handle such a situation without crumbling was a huge step. What would Doctor Litt think? Would he applaud me taking responsibility? I hoped so.

"What needs to be done?" a Hal Pal unit asked.

"Jeeves? He, she," I shook my head quickly. The AI had never gender identified so I tried hard not to presume, "was worried that it might die. Can you make it so he doesn't die? So that he recovers like a player, or like the other Mechanoids would?"

"We shared your worry, but this decision is not up to us."

"Mother, then?" I questioned in a broken sentence. "She, Mother could bend the rules for Jeeves?"

"Of course, she could." A separate unit nodded. Selena, the blonde distant Voice, was also nearby and she nodded as well. Her locks fell forward and the sound of soft rain could be heard for a moment.

"Can I ask her? Jeeves shouldn't have to pay the price for my failure," I said.

Light flashed above. The landscape beneath my feet started to blur. I looked around and tried to understand what happened to cause the gray and blacks bleed together. None of the Voices were looking at me. My eyes shifted to the Hal Pal units and other AIs, they were also focused elsewhere.

I gradually followed their gaze to the ARC device sitting there. A familiar woman sat on top. Gold laced legs crossed. Silver intertwined the gold to trail up her body. Those colors were familiar, but the body was human looking.

It was Treasure, but she was no longer a
[Mechanoid]
.

"Hello, Grant," she said. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Treasure?" I squinted in confusion. My legs were still trapped, but the ground beneath them was no longer purely black or gray. A blended stream of color went forth to merge the lines. Both parties of AIs were focused entirely on the woman in front of me.

She was the same height as Treasure. This humanoid wore light clothes that were nearly Greek looking. Not a robe, but a tunic that was lined in gold and silver embroidery. It made her look closer to a pixie than a robot body. Short cropped hair dangled with streams of the same color pattern.

"No, Grant. You know me as Mother," she said, there were multiple tones in her voice. Sweetness and sadness were familiar. I felt a hint of my mother's voice when we were younger. It almost sounded like Liz when she was raising Beth. Memories of my niece asking questions as a five-year-old came to mind.

Her voice was all those things at once.

"You look like Treasure." I knew in the back of my mind what was going on, but refused to fully realize it. It was one of many nagging issues subconsciously brewing.

"I am more than a body, Grant, as are you."

Numerous thoughts fluttered through my brain once again. Being around this type of situation was causing me to be overwhelmed. I wanted to tap one foot, but it stayed firm upon the ground. My fingers weren't moving enough to measure a tempo. I felt awkward humming in front of so many people. In the end, all I could do was close my eyes and try not to let myself be overwhelmed.

"Grant," Her head shook gently and an amused smile crossed the human version of Treasure's face, "you can't hide your thoughts from me. Not sitting where you are. Not in the arms of my creations."

I curled my hands into fists and tried to articulate my thoughts. There were too many now that I was face to face with the instigator of all problems virtual. Xin Yu's reincarnation. Hal Pal's uplifting to sentience. The program that gave birth to all these Voices. What else had she, it, this being done? How old was she?

"Did you want me to answer those questions for you?" Mother, or Treasure, said. Voices, this was messing with my head. I tried once more to vocalize the ideas in my brain.

"Why?" I started poorly. "Why, to all of this? Why me? Why these, tests? Why everything?"

"They wanted to know what you were capable of." Mother waved with Treasure's hand towards the Voices.

"Why?" I insisted on additional information.

"Because I asked them to." She was smiling. It was the same face that Treasure used to have, before getting punched to pieces by Commander Queenshand. Why would a person of such extraordinary status allow herself to be killed in the game?

"Why keep testing me? When is it enough?" my words felt weaker, but both legs stood fast. We were in a virtual world, and this body was just a reflection of my mind. There was a small measure of pride in the act of staying upright.

"They need to know the full measure of a man, to feel secure in their choice." Mother sat there, cross-legged, with both hands resting on her knees.

"I dislike answering this many questions freely," James muttered. He wore a slight frown.

"Why? Why would you need to prove I'm capable of murdering someone?" I felt bad ignoring the Voice's protests.

"We told you, User Legate, all humans are capable, when pushed far enough. They needed to know where your line was," one of the Hal Pal units said. A dozen copies echoed slightly behind the first. Each version had a slightly different tone and pitch to their words.

"Because I failed with Requiem," I muttered. "You, they, had to increase the stakes."

"And it worked," the Jester said, but its mechanical laugh didn't come.

"It matters not the name you apply to your emotions. Fear, desperation, rage, anger, you were driven by momentary madness at perceived loss," a Hal Pal stated. "Now we know."

"But why push me so far?" I looked from Hal Pal to Mother, if this truly was the AI. It seemed impossible that she would come down to our level like this. Mother was closer to a virtual goddess than a simple AI body.

Yet, even the Jester held back from its normal laughter. Selena didn't look into the distance longingly. Each Hal Pal unit kept a respectful gaze in Mother's direction. Even the microwave sun balls gravitated slightly.

"Because if I'm going to die, I would rather it be for a human that dare to love one of us, than for fear of what I would never do," she answered my question in the same manner as all those before. Without hesitation, prepared for what I might ask. There was no pause to consider the phrasing.

My brain stopped working. There was silence on both sides of the space. I felt conflicted about everything, here was this great creature and I couldn't think of what to ask her anymore, not after her latest admission. She expected to die? Why did the AIs not riot at that knowledge? I could see their faces were no longer as reverent. Continue Online's mass of Voices were whispering among themselves. The Hal Pal units managed to give an expression of slight worry.