Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) (41 page)

“
I
shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence. Two
roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and
that has made all the difference.”

“
What
do you think it’s about, Mylia?” Carver never gave away
too much information, not even to Mylia.

“
I
don’t know.” She responded. Briefly James' deliberate
response came to mind.

“
It’s
about choices and where they lead,” I explained it.

“
What
choices have you made, Mister Carver?” Mylia leaned in closer.
The blue wrap around her head swam into view.

“
Many,
Mylia, so many, good and bad…I’ve made…”
Then blackness overcame my senses. My display still existed, a gold
lettered message saying ‘You are Unconscious’ floated
into being across the black backdrop.

What
was going on now? This felt like being back in the trial room before
everything had been revealed. I’d always logged out before
William Carver passed out each night. That was good because I needed
a breather.

What
had I been about to tell Mylia? My life mistakes and where I’d
ended up? Or Carver's? The line between the former player and I had
decreased the longer I lived in his shoes. That poem hadn’t
helped. Where had the
[Messenger's Pet]
dug that up?

“
Grant
Legate.” A voice that I hadn’t heard in nearly two weeks
echoed across my mind. Deep resounding tones combined with that
inquisitive lilt painted a clear picture of who was speaking.

“
James?”
I asked.

“
Grant
Legate. How are you feeling?” Seeing James was impossible with
my vision being dimmed. The taunting word ‘unconscious’
had slowly become my only focus.

“
Tired.”
I wiped at one cheek absently finding a small pool of drool. “Very
tired. Is it okay if I don’t come back for a few days? I need,
need to not be here for a while.”

“
Time
is a factor, Grant Legate, but I believe there is a little leeway.”

“
Okay.”

“
Are
you alright?” James asked.

I
thought of the kids, and of roads not traveled, before nodding
weakly. Shortly afterward I logged myself out of the game.

Session Eleven
- Outside the Digital Box

“
Liz?”
Come on, for once don’t sound like a wounded puppy. Please let
these words come across like a sane and stable person. Focus on a
happy place. Try not to wonder what my unborn child would look like.
Their mother's eyes perhaps?

Breathe.

“
What’s
up, little brother?” Liz had the decency not to notice my
plight.

“
Is
tonight a good night?”

“
Ummmm…..it
can be. Are you okay?”

“
Yeah.
I need family for a meal. I won’t impose for more than dinner.”
Liz had set up an open house ruling after I moved out. One of the
counselors suggested on having a safe place.

“
Sure.
I’ll kick Beth out of the machine and scrape something
together.”

“
Thanks.
I’ll be over in a few hours. I need to check in first.”
Time to take another breath and focus on the mental exercises I’d
learned over a year and change.

“
You
sure you’re okay?” Finally, some worry wound around her
tone. The slight tilt of her head on the video screen was all the
hint I needed. She was my twin, her mannerisms were my own. Hiding my
state of mind from her had always been impossible.

“
I’ll
be okay. I had some, painful reminders recently.”

“
Alright.
You make it over when you can, Grant.”

The
connection closed down and Liz’s worried face faded. I moved my
gaze from the watch phone amalgamation to my ARC. Inside the Atrium
was a nearly serene bedroom, minus the tiny
[Messenger's Pet]
fighting with a tube from my hot tub program. Hissing and water
shooting around that was beyond me right now. One day I’d
finally figure out a name for the creature. Assuming he hung out past
the next two game weeks of this William Carver experience.

I
am Grant Legate. I am not William Carver.

Maybe
it was good to step out of the game for a bit anyway. This
otherworldly persona, the time compression and rate of existence was
killer on my sanity. How did other players handle it? Oh, right, they
got to play themselves in the game, not an NPC.

I’d
have to be careful around Beth.

The
van ride over was easy enough. I researched the very same topic I’d
given Awesome Jr. Information was surprisingly mixed. A few books
talked about how people organized their thoughts when making choices.
More articles and paper synopses talked about ways to sort a mind
out.

What
got to me was the old Aesop’s fable about The Fox and the Cat.
According to the story, the fox would brag about having hundreds of
ways to escape, while the cat could only climb up a tree. When
trouble came, the cat escaped, and the fox was caught by the hounds
due to being too confused by his possible escapes. Too many choices
lead to mental paralysis and failure in applying action. That’s
why so many players seemed confused on where to start. They were
plopped as adults into an alternate reality, which is where the
Traveler's Guide Old Man Carver, in this case, came into play. Yet my
job wasn’t so simple. I couldn’t treat each and every
single player the same.

Welcome
to Continue, here’s a quest to fetch apples! Congratulations
new player, this is the farm! We have a varmint problem! Stop those
rats! Collect those candles! Do a special move seven times! The
player's reward? A boring pie! Oh, this player got the goblin boss!
Way to swing your sword, here, a plus ten weapon of great smiting!

Personality
mattered excessively in Continue. These were real people interacting
with the nearly real computer generated AIs. The responses I gave as
a guide had to be custom tailored.

My
ride to Liz’s was interrupted by a call to my sponsor, touching
base and saying that things were going well. These thoughts about
Continue had managed to occupy a pleasant portion of my life which
wasn’t good or bad in the end, but James had promised a
distraction.

My
therapist had warned me I’d see all sorts of little things and
link them to past experiences. The problem was exposing myself to new
sensations would cause me to remember darker moments. Despite the
ease with which depression swam over me, I’d existed for awhile
in-game now. Most days passed with very few painful reminders and
without the need to work myself into mental numbness or the dance
program. This was progress.

“
Uncle,
you’re saying you’ve been playing for two weeks and
haven’t fought a single monster?”

“
I
gave a target dummy a mean stare and some good whacks. Oh, I ran from
some spiders too.” Voices damn those spiders. Peg’s
constant uses of the imitation swear had been ingrained into my
brain.

“
You're
going to be a warrior?”

“
Yeah.
I can see me, lovable Uncle Grant, wielding a big old sword and
inspiring fear in tiny bunnies!” My sister had the nerve to
laugh and almost coughed out her food.

“
So
pure warrior?” Sometimes I worried about my relationship with
Beth. She often treated me like an older brother rather than an
Uncle. It might be because of how her mom and I acted, or some other
psychological dynamic that was beyond my understanding. Still, she
was never one to be shy about her excitement over Continue.

“
I
don’t know. Is that good?” Continue did have far too many
choices. Maybe Beth would have good ideas.

“
Can
we not talk about games while having dinner?” Liz was still
trying to recover from her amusement.

“
But
Uncle Grant’s new to the game, it’s good for him to
learn!”

“
Uh
huh. How are the potatoes?”

“
Good,
Liz, thanks.” My smile must have driven Liz crazy. She was
becoming more like our mother with every passing day.

“
Anytime,”
She said.

“
So
what class do you want to be?” Beth asked around another
mouthful of food.

“
I
thought there weren’t any classes?”

“
Yes
and no, there’s play styles that are like classes, but they’re
called Paths, and titles kind of do the same thing. Oh! Have you got
a copy of the handbook yet?”

“
The
what book?” Books hadn’t had hands for a decade now.
Digital systems had transcribed nearly every piece of paper over. I
put both hands up in confusion and raised an eyebrow.

“
Oh,
my, god, really, Uncle Grant?”

“
Yeah.
Totally.” I managed to get every ounce of playful confusion
available into my voice.

“
So
no! Hold on!” Beth, true to her insanely impulsive nature, had
already run off from the table and went to get something out of her
room.

“
Get
back here!” Liz yelled at her daughter. Beth was too lost in
her current mission to bother responding. I could hear violent
shuffling from the rooms below as my niece searched for something.
One eyebrow raised in Liz's direction. She sighed.

“
So
when is she getting the boot?” I asked.

“
After
college I’m charging rent! Don’t think grandpa will take
you in either!” Liz was clanking down silverware and scowling.
Finally, she huffed and went back to get more food from the kitchen.

“
Doesn’t
dad play games too?” I asked.

“
God.
I can’t escape you geeks.”

“
So
it goes.”

Beth
came screaming back into the room like she was being chased.

“
Here,
take this! But don’t let anyone know you have a copy unless you
trust them.” Here I had ranted about the end of a paper and ink
era and my own niece shoved a pile of colored papers into my hands.

“
Aww,
you trust me. I’m touched.” I said.

“
Is
that the book for your game?” My sister asked. There was half a
frown on her lips and a flash of annoyance in her eyes.

“
Yep.
All sorts of useful tips and information. Suggestions, general build
ideas, a rough world map of what’s been explored. Tons of stuff
about the game to study in your spare time.” Her daughter
responded.

“
Seriously?
You’re giving your Uncle something that’s illegal?”
Liz sounded confused and almost outraged.