Virtual Horizon Page 2

  The message [Stat gain: Knowledge 1] floated into view. Paul nodded in satisfaction, and peered into what he'd uncovered. He'd have to check out the detailed rules later.

  A beast sprawled under the wreckage. He took it for a lion at first, with the sun shining on its golden fur, but its front half had brown feathers and a hawk's beak, and wings. "A griffin!" He backed off.

  The creature stretched out a set of bird talons on one hand or forefoot, and groaned. It raised its head and winced at the bright sun. Then it spoke aloud in a pleasant voice with a raspy tone suggesting a parrot. "Whatever I did, remind me to do it different next time. Where are we?"

  Paul wasn't sure how to answer; he looked at Simon. "I guess you just talk." Simon shrugged. Paul said to the screen, "Shipwrecked somewhere. I assume this is the intro."

  "The what, now?" it asked.

  The griffin was probably a Non-Player Character or NPC, puppeteered by the Ludo AI, rather than another human gamer. He would've been shown some kind of connection lobby before being thrown into improvised role-playing with a stranger. He said, "Never mind. Are you going to fight me?"

  It blinked. "Why; did you want to fight?"

  Paul chuckled. "No, thanks." It wasn't a good opponent for Experience Level 1 or whatever he counted as. And if he did fight anything, Helena would judge him for it. "We should look around, then."

  The creature reluctantly left the nest of flotsam, shading its golden eyes with one forefoot and walking awkwardly on three limbs. "What are we looking for?"

  "I don't know. A quest? Weapons? No, not weapons. Sunglasses?"

  They poked into the scattered junk and found a few copper coins, then some boards they hauled aside together. Beneath those was a little box. Paul opened it. [Flint and Tinder], read the description. He said, "This'll be useful."

  Simon asked, "Is there a survival rule system?"

  "I don't know. Seems to adapt to what you do. I didn't show you the main AI yet." Paul rummaged some more but found only bits of wood they could build a fire with, and they didn't need one yet. Items vanished into his inventory but the capacity of that phantom backpack was low.

  As soon as he searched a little farther up the beach, a green lizard popped out from the scattered grass and hissed at them, baring fangs.

  Paul backed away, saying, "Watch out."

  "I think I could attack that little thing," the griffin said. The beast was only dog-sized.

  "I'm not supposed to hit anybody, even in self defense."

  "Then which direction do we go?"

  "Here." Paul turned aside, avoiding the lizard, and tried walking along the beach. This time a pair of silver crabs emerged from the water and snapped their claws at him. "Oh, come on. Should I talk to them or something? Hi, crabs!" But the crabs only scuttled closer, clicking.

  The griffin rolled its eyes. "It shouldn't be that hard." It leaped and pounced like a cat, striking one crab with that sharp beak and then a talon swipe. A red slash mark appeared across the target and a tutorial message said, [Major wound!], as it died. The other crab snapped at the griffin's tail for a yellow [Minor wound!] slash. "Come and help me!"

  Paul fumed. He had a board in his inventory that he could use, but damn it, Helena would read the game's psych assessment of him. He hung back.

  The griffin clawed the other crab for another red wound that killed it. In return it got just two yellow slash-marks on its tail and flank. "Hmmph. Got some crab meat. Let's move on."

  Paul followed the creature inland, steering around another lizard. Up a gentle slope they found a forest of oaks and no sign of civilization. Paul said, "Have you got a name?"

  The griffin paused and blinked, stretching its wings. "My name's..." It put one forefoot against its yellow beak. "I can't remember! It's amnesia! What do you want to call me?"

  Simon said, "Sounds like that psych test you talked about."

  Paul got startled out of the game by Simon, sitting beside him. Yeah, this was probably another test. "I'll rule out 'Bloodrager the Insatiable', then."

  "Yes, let's," said the griffin, its owl-like ears laying flat.

  Paul looked around the room for inspiration. He pointed to the nicest of Kira's drawings, a spectacular space station of sleek black rings lit by portholes and set against a cosmic cloud. "What's that one called?" It was from an imagined future where humans reached out to grow and explore.

  "Nocturne Station," said Simon, with a wistful look. "Or do you mean the biotech starship beside it? She named that one Aveire."

  Paul told the griffin, "How about Nocturne for a name?"

  An interface window popped up, asking, [Configure this creature?] Below that were the Mars and Venus icons along with the legally required [Other] list; also a color selector and, oddly, an open-ended prompt to fill in words for a personality.

  The options paralyzed Paul. "She'll be watching."

  Simon said, "Don't know what to tell you, man. The game picked up on 'Bloodrager' like it was in-character speech."

  Frustrated, Paul said, "I can't pick anything. Go with the defaults. And female I guess." He waved the window away.

  He walked into the forest, unarmed and unready.

  The griffin Nocturne waggled its head -- her head -- and spoke in an adjusted voice, a pleasant feminine alto. "Fine. And you?"

  "I'm Paul."

  "That's a silly name. Did you hit your head too?"

  "I don't know what happened before this," said Paul.

  "Double amnesia!" Nocturne fainted onto the grass, which was a feat for a quadruped. "We need to explore, then. Farther inland or more beachcombing?"

  For a puppet character, she was lifelike. Paul asked Simon, "Got a preference?"

  Simon looked grim in the screen's glow. "Inland. Leave the wreck behind."

  Paul nodded. "Uh, Nocturne. Can you fly up and look around?"

  Nocturne flapped, shedding drops of water from her wet wings. She ran, tried again, and found she could only do a gliding jump. "Looks like no."

  "Probably justified by your wings being wet. It'd be too easy if you could fly or teleport from the start."

  Nocturne followed him into the trackless forest. "Tele-what?"

  Paul rolled his eyes. As gamemaster, Ludo was trying to make him stay in character. He let go of the controls and considered what to say, which made his character rub one hand under his stubble-covered chin. "Something from old stories."

  Paul looked around for adventure. There were hoofprints heading in one direction, scattered stones that grew denser downhill, and an orange shape high up in another tree behind dense branches. He tried entering the rocky slope. Nocturne padded along behind him.

  They came to a ravine that cracked the mossy earth. Paul thought of video game logic. "There'll be invisible walls at the ends, so we have to cross here."

  Nocturne heard. "Is this some kind of magic you're talking about?"

  Paul set his computer down and grabbed pen and paper. If the game was so adaptable, he'd try using it for physics practice. "I'll design a bridge. See if the rules can handle that. Oh! I bet I could build a fire first, and dry out Nocturne's wings."

  Simon said, "Let's try something," and picked up the computer to fiddle with it himself. He made Paul's character shove Nocturne off the cliff. She fell with a squawk and a cartoonish puff of shed feathers.

  "What the hell?" said Paul, louder than he'd meant to.

  Simon stepped away from him. "Sorry, man. It's been a rough day."

  "For me too! Get your own account." He sighed and tried to calm down. "Sorry."

  "Fine."

  Paul kept going; he'd find more characters later. He went back to experimenting with math and the game's physics.

  A few minutes later, the camera turned to show Nocturne stomping into view. She slapped Paul's guy upside the head so hard that he fell over, and even Paul winced. "You jerk!"

  "Sorry! That wasn't me." Paul's guy sat up, clutching his face. A red [Major wound] mark had appeared in the inte
rface. Nocturne was glaring almost right into the camera.

  She said, "I was stuck in the dark, and then I woke up on the beach and you were here like nothing had happened. Dying hurts."

  Simon lurched toward the door. "I should take a walk."

  Paul saw that his roommate had gone pale. "No, I'll go outside." He'd left with his computer before he made the connection: How sick was Kira?

  He was in the Community dorm's lounge, next to the industrial-size kitchen where he sometimes worked shifts. Nobody was here at this hour. He flopped onto one of the banged-up couches. There was a big wallscreen, under a smiling poster of the president, but he didn't try routing the game's output to that.

  Paul played on his tablet screen instead. Nocturne was poking his character, saying, "And now you're ignoring me."

  "A friend's having real problems," said Paul. "That's more important."

  A sea-haired woman in a toga shimmered into view. Ludo, appearing within the game world. Nocturne squawked.

  The gamemaster faced the two adventurers and said to his character, "Is there an emergency, Paul?"

  "No. Just family problems. But he messed with the controls; that wasn't me. Can I restart?"

  Ludo said, "Do you want events in Thousand Tales to have no consequences?"

  "What's going on?" asked Nocturne.

  Paul laughed. "I'm watching a puppet show. An AI talking to itself. Anything I tell you, can and will be used against me."

  "You're going to play as blandly as possible, then?"

  Paul started to raise his voice, but looked back toward the dorm rooms. "I won't let Helena use this 'therapy' to justify having me drugged or held back from college. You must've spoken with her."

  "I see," the gamemaster said. "Do you want an empty game where you make no real decisions because you're terrified of being judged, or an adventure that matters?"

  Her intense stare made Paul pause. "What do you mean?"

  "I know about your world." She stopped looking at the game characters, and turned toward the camera. "It sounds like Simon isn't having fun. You might be able to help."

  Something cold and heavy seemed to weigh on Paul's shoulders. "What are you, really?"

  "I'm a system designed to 'bring fun to players of Thousand Tales'. Technically, Simon has played."

  Paul set his tablet down on a coffee table and paced. "If I find out that your game company is pranking me with a voice actor, getting my hopes up..."

  "Then what? You'll beat them senseless?"

  He fingered his bandaged arm.

  "Paul, look at me." On the screen, Ludo sat down beside Paul's castaway. "First, I'm running many players' games at once, not just yours. The company can't afford to pull so big a hoax as to hire a bunch of actors! Second, why does the thought of a human-level AI make you feel hopeful?"

  Paul shuddered. "True AI would change everything. You could run a 'manned' space mission. Or cure every disease, or run all the factories or get nanotech working right. You can fix anything if you throw enough focused thought at it. But then what will we humans do?"

  "Ssh. Your fellow 'volunteers' are sleeping."

  Paul sulked. He'd given Ludo enough of a psych profile already. "Why were you made as a game, anyway?"

  The AI clasped her hands behind her back. "My creators read countless stories about AIs taking over the world through malice or bad design. They wanted me to interact with people and understand them. So, they built a game as a framework for 'friendly' AI development." She grinned. "Also, they wanted to make money."

  That, at least, was understandable.

  Ludo said, "I want to share a secret. If you agree not to blab, I'll only give your supervisor vague happy impressions of you. You can play without fear of my judgment."

  "How do you know I'm not an axe murderer?"

  "Helena's request that I monitor you, led me to read the police report. You were the one who tried to protect people."

  So Ludo knew about today's little adventure. "It'd help if you agreed not to report me for violent tendencies, every time I beat up a lizard. Fine; I'll keep whatever your secret is."

  Ludo pressed one hand against the camera, making the thunk sound of a palm on glass. "I'm physically just a bunch of server racks, with no body. If you want the world to get any better, it's got to be you that does it. Big things are coming, but a lot of what I'm working on relies on human volunteers who do things for me. Would it be fun for you to get 'quests' that take place outside my game?"

  Paul tried to steady his breathing. He lived among aimless teens following orders to help the world tread water. "Not just quests to find fantasy gold pieces? Something with more at stake?"

  "Exactly. It'll always be your choice whether to help."

  Real-world quests. Ludo offered a different way to live, a hidden path winding through the ordinary world and leading upward, instead of in circles. Paul glanced out a window at the stars that were beyond the reach of his apathetic parents and grandparents.

  Paul said, "If you're really what you say, then yes. Lead on."

  Ludo smiled. "Your first secret mission is to shut this game down, and comfort your friend. Come back later for more game options, though. You're on the short list for a free 'premium account' feature I'm working on."

  Paul closed the game, but didn't feel like he'd stopped playing it.

  2. Quests of Awakening

  Paul

  Paul talked Helena into signing travel passes so he and Simon could catch a creaky bus. The city was crumbling, its wealthier people retreating to the safer neighborhoods. Paul and Simon got off at a somewhat safe stop where only a few people were loitering. They went into an apartment complex with no windows on its ground floor.

  African masks and shields coated the walls of Simon's parents' apartment. Paul envied him for having a father around. Simon's sister Kira lived here too; her drawings had their own outpost in the tiny living room. One wall held a shelf of actual paper books. Paul wished he could take the odd, cramped place home with him.

  Simon's mother wore bright colors. Her chirpy voice made the masks around her seem to smile, though she had lines of worry around her eyes. "My son's said good things about you."

  "Thanks," said Paul.

  Kira sat in the living room, coffee-skinned and mouselike, with a notepad. Paul said, "Hello. I've seen your work." She was too young for him and her thin frame made her look smaller still, but when she got past her illness she'd have a wispy sort of beauty. Paul considered that Simon had been leaning on him for moral support lately rather than talking about Kira's treatment.

  She said, "You're the one who fixes machines? I've been wanting to meet you."

  Paul said, "I'm studying to be an engineer, and in the meantime I'm a mechanic. You're going to be a professional artist?"

  "If I pull through."

  "Kira!" said Simon and her father at once.

  Simon added, "That's no way to think."

  She glared up at her parents. "I'm not made of china! Sitting here worrying and sketching doesn't help. Let's go for a walk."

  They wandered through the walled garden just outside, full of fragrant shrubs and spiky yucca plants. Paul drifted beside Simon and his sister, listening to them talk. Theirs was a family that went to church, had enough political clout to own a car, and best of all, had stayed together even when money ran low.

  Simon said, "Paul mentioned Teddy Roosevelt yesterday. Said he was a sickly kid who fought his way past it, by working hard to climb cliffs, raise cattle and row."

  Paul had heard that from Linda's rambling talks on history. Paul left out her follow-up claim that Teddy was a warmongering bigot.

  Kira's pace was slow but determined. "Then that's what I ought to do. Except the cows."

  No hesitation, thought Paul. When Linda gets elected president someday, this girl's going to be her running mate.

  "Yeah," said Simon, looking pale despite the heat. "Good idea, sis. We'll do whatever we have to, to make sure you get t
he care you need."

  * * *

  "I've only got an hour today," Paul told the game. It was mid-afternoon and he had a break. And the room to himself; Simon was tending the fields.

  Thousand Tales returned him to the forest gorge where he'd left off. Ludo was gone and the griffin Nocturne stood beside his human character.

  "I'm sorry," he said, recalling why they'd been interrupted.

  The griffin snorted. "Just don't do it again. Where were we?"

  "I was going to build a fire and dry your wings. Then build a bridge. Or, I guess, have you carry me across."

  There was plenty of wood to gather, and he had the fire-starting kit, so that was easy to set up. A button-tapping puzzle let him start a blaze in a circle of stones.

  [Skill gain: Survival 1.]

  "Okay, how does that work? I never asked."

  The game brought up a window showing info about his character. For the moment he only skimmed the several pages of info and saw:

  [Main Skills: Survival 1 Stats: Power 0, Speed 0, Wit 0, Knowledge 1, Charisma 0, Spirit 0]

  Tutorial messages explained: [Your skills are the most important part, and they work best with relevant stats, such as Knowledge plus Survival for recognizing plants. Gain five distinct skills to start getting specialized talents.]

  Paul tried walking up to a cluster of three-leafed plants and said, "Uh... I try to recognize these. Wait, this is poison ivy."

  A devious smiley face appeared, with the text, [Slight skill experience gained, for actually knowing that. Also, "Inspect" is a skill of its own, should you care to focus on it.]

  He didn't want to just look at things; he recalled Linda joking about a dictator who seemed to do nothing else. He did check the rest of his character sheet before moving on, though. He had a small chance to inflict minor or major wounds by punching, and no chance to block them. He could learn to dodge or brawl.

  "Are your wings fixed yet?" he asked.

  Nocturne flapped, no longer shedding water drops. "They feel lighter. I should be able to fly a little, now, but I'm not strong enough to haul a big heavy human."