Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) (62 page)

“
The
dragon?” Awesome Jr. asked with hugely excited eyes.

“
That
very one.” And I was unsure how that journey went. The mystery
of its absence was a puzzle for another day. I applied all my WWCD
instincts towards the end of my speech.

“
I
reached my summit and knew that there was still so much more to be
done for this world. So much that I could never hope to accomplish
alone.”

“
Is
that…” SweetPea shoved a hand over Awesome Jr.'s mouth
and nodded at me to keep going.

“
I
became a guide to new Travelers. Not because these old bones wanted
to rest.” The faintest sensation of pain had started to wash
through my body. It was like the edge of a heart attack coming on.

“
Not
because I’d grown weary of raising my sword, but because the
torch must be passed. Every Traveler I send on their way is another
legend in the making.” HotPants almost looked misty-eyed as I
spoke. “But I’m too hard headed to die without one last
adventure of my own.”

I
swear to the Voices above that if there had been a progress bar
still, it would have shot right through the roof. My WWCD had all
fired to their maximum. Validation was further received from a giant
notice which appeared in front of all four players. Beyond super
neat. The message wasn't visible from my angle, but it was likely
some sort of system pop-up about William Carver's legacy. Or a quest
change.

“
Jesus.
I’m going to start crying over here.” HotPants actually
looked like she meant it. Strange, I would have expected SweetPea to
crack first.

“
This
is…”

“
Awesome,
yeah we get it.”

“
Awesome’s
my father.” HotPants weakly gave Awesome Jr. a whack over the
head for repeating his catchphrase again. I kept my smile inside and
let the players do what they would. Next to us a path to the maze's
center lay open. Inside would contain challenges for us all. Most
especially for me, Carver's last adventure was close.

Here's
hoping the old man enjoyed the ride. What had I said to him in the
mirror? Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.

Session
Seventeen - “Leeroy”

Clearing
the monsters proved to be the right choice. Bushes had returned to
normal all around us and were far less cranky about being cut down.
In the distance, either way, ink riddled colors swam and waved to an
unseen breeze.

“
Careful.
I think there’s more of those things out there.” One of
the players said.

“
A
lot more.” SweetPea was huddled near the back again. HotPants
stood guard while Shadow used both knives to cut away a path.

“
Okay,
I declare these hedges trimmed, HotPants, you're first,”
Awesome Jr. said.

“
Alright.”
She tilted her staff and squeezed into the narrow path we cleared
out. I followed next, being the old man in need of an escort.

Inside
was nothing close to what a maze should have.

Were
those people lining the outer edge of a giant square? Not standard
individuals but weird ghostly outlines. I squinted old eyes and
looked into the distance. There was a small army of people standing
around. Each of them was female. Even poor vision couldn’t
disguise some of those curves. They became less ghostly and more real
the longer we stood there watching.

Oh
no.

“
What’s
this?” Shadow asked.

“
Memory
lane,” I answer while trying not to feel my gut drop. Being
praised for another man’s actions was bad enough. This would be
far more awkward. Carver may have been a brave warrior, but he was
also a love ‘em and leave ‘em type. This whole setup was
a gallery of ex-lovers.

“
Is
that music?” SweetPea asked as a series of string instruments
filled the air.

“
Are
those all women?” Awesome Jr. had focused on the important
prospects in front of him. SweetPea and he were almost a couple, but
there was a varying amount of flesh being displayed. Teenage males
were notorious for being confused in these situations.
Nearsightedness saved me from the same mistake.

“
William.
Did you think you could sneak off and leave without so much as a
goodbye?” That sweet voice stood out among all the others I had
heard. Carver's personally most compromised Priestess.

“
High
Priestess.”

“
After
all these years, and all we’ve been, you can’t call me
Peach?”

“
She’s
named Peach?” Awesome Jr. seemed more concerned with the cut of
Peach’s dress than anything else.

“
She’s
a High Priestess for Selena. Up on the cliff over town.”
HotPants muttered in response. "Not my style of Voice, but
still, she's done good."

“
Yes,
I am Peach, and yes, young Traveler, that is music,” She
answered the questions in turn with her falsely sweet words.

“
How
are you here?”

“
I’m
not, not really, none of us are.” Priestess Peach gestured to
the area around her. “To us, this is a dream granted to us by
the Voices. I thank Selena for this.”

"I'm
sorry, Peach." My words tasted bitter. Peach had been among the
few I ignored over the course of this last day. She seemed genuinely
fond of the old man and I discarded all that in my rush of letters.

“
As
if I'd let you escape without at least trying to gain your pledge."
Peach responded.

“
How
about one last dance?” I questioned, putting a few things
together.

"I
guess that will have to do.” She smiled, and though her pitch
and tone were a practiced facade, everything else she was looked
pleased.

“
Are
you sure? My hips aren’t what they used to be you know.”
I tried to joke with her. Priestess Peach had been one of the first
to point out Old Man Carver's shortcomings out loud.

“
For
this, I think the Voices can shed some forgiveness.”

“
What
are we supposta to do Priestess?” Shadow asked.

“
You
do whatever it is you Travelers do.” She waved them off. To
her, none of this was real. Why should she care what happened to
other people in a dream?

“
Huh?”

Priestess
Peach was proof positive that computers were not required to care
about human beings. I said a fervent prayer to our future overlords
in hopes there would be room in the metal polishing market. Or maybe
I could move up to the hills where the Internet was still a myth.

“
Come
on, William.” Priestess Peach put out a hand waiting for me. I
reached out mine and felt a pleasant energy wash from head to toe.

“
Ehh.”
Moving felt a bit easier again. My joints became a bit more limber.
Behind me, I could hear the others exclaim in surprise about
something. My hearing hadn't improved with everything else.

A
small box displayed information for me. That was thankfully useful. I
couldn’t be expected to cut a rug as an old man, not one who
spent too much time being sedentary. The music was a slow general
theme. We were both lucky in how well it fit my own personal skills.
William Carver himself had no dance traits or abilities that I had
ever seen. This was pure me in his body.

And
High Priestess Peach felt almost sinful. If my body had been that of
a much younger man I might have reacted quite differently. As it was
we spun in time to the beat. Our dance was a slow spin that still
managed to lift her dress a tiny amount. Were I able to go faster the
other players might get a glimpse of her birthmark.

The
song went on and with each step I felt a little better, a little
straighter, the ache in my shoulder wasn’t as sharp as before.
Our dance ended with a bow and another woman stepped up from the
audience.

“
Goodbye,
you old goat,” Priest Peach said with a single dripping tear.
“Goodbye.” And she faded away leaving me facing a new
partner, one who looked a little hurt.

“
Where
are my manners.” I tried to turn on all of Carver's
lady-killing charm. “May I have this dance?”

“
My
wild man, I’ve been waiting for this dance for years.”
This woman looked familiar from Carver's sometimes extremely vivid
descriptions. Each one was familiar in some form or another. In the
background over each woman’s shoulder, there were visible signs
of a struggle. The players were busy fending off waves of other
creatures. These were like the ones from outside the maze only
smaller and more numerous. Probably the
[Ink
Nightmare]
s
mentioned in my gift description.

Screaming
was muted under the sound of music and each partner’s
movements. They followed better than Maud had, likely assisted by the
machine. My brain couldn't wrap itself around each one of these NPCs
practicing dancing just to wait for Carver to kick the bucket. In
their minds this was all a dream. Which answered one of the age old
questions, do robots dream? They do indeed, of Old Man Carver
sweeping them across the dance floor.

I
chuckled as partners exchanged again. Moving had grown far easier.
Eyesight had recently approached real world clarity. Each dance
partner was further and further along Carver's time line here in
Continue. Another, and another, until finally I was standing with an
elf of some sort. She was rather good looking. Her neck was long and
shoulders slender. There was a litheness to her form that belayed a
ballet dancer. It was easy to see why William Carver might have done
any mission she ever requested.

"Is
it almost over?!" HotPants' yelling had grown far clearer now.

"I
think so, this is the last one!"

"Hold
on a little longer!" SweetPea was busy pressing hands over a
wounded Shadow. He laid there gasping for breath off to one side of
the dance floor.

"You
heard the lady, one last dance," I said softly to the elf. No
amount of time reversals could bring Carver back to perfect. He
started this game physically worn out and kept right on going.
Regardless, my back was much better. Only now did I truly appreciate
the kind of stones he had. He played a game where everything felt
almost too real and risked it all to achieve his dream here in a
fantasy world.

"And
here we are, back to your first in our world." My nameless elven
partner smiled as we moved across the floor. She was a bit more
talkative than the others had been.

"I
remember." I didn't, but William had.