Continue Online (Part 3, Realities) (50 page)

"Nox's rules are simple. Only those from another reality, Travelers as they are sometimes called, can handle the Mistborn." Commander Queenshand kept talking. "Fortunately, I was able to enlist some rather, mercenary Travelers, to assist in my goals."

"No kidding," I muttered, trying to do the math. Four players, maybe more. They had to all be ones from the dueling rounds a few days ago. My face felt clammy. They must have given me free wins to get my point value up. In hopes of knocking out other competition, so they could kidnap the
[Mistborn]
if one of us made it through. It made sense, it made far too much sense.

"This means Nox is unable to assist you in recovering the Mistborn. Since your current forces are no match for the fleets I've left behind, I believe this is checkmate."

The image blipped off.

I sighed. She was pretty much right unless there was a different way through. Ideas and plans started to form in my head, none of them perfect, some of them downright stupid. A few parts stuck out, though, ways to at least give chase. The suggestions from our combat board were all decent but each one cost a great deal.

"What do we do?" Treasure asked.

Finally, I came to a conclusion. "Smaller ships, they can jump further right?"

"That is correct," Aqua said with a pleasant smile on its face. The
[Mechanoid]
strummed long fingers against the campaign planning table and looked down.

"Okay," I said gradually. "Can we move the Knuckle Dragger through the gate?"

Aqua and Ruby turned to Treasure. She squinted to one side and tapped at the air. Floor plans of the enemy ship came up. The female
[Mechanoid]
rapidly tapped around, putting down markers and humming. Jeeves nodded along with whatever was happening.

"Yes," they said in near unison. Treasure looked at my AI friend and smiled. "After modifications, it's possible," she said.

"I have an idea, but there's a condition," I said as the system awarded me yet another useless stat point. Once again I wondered why they even bothered keeping track.

"What's that, Unit Hermes?" Aqua said calmly.

"I want the Wayfarer Eight to go home. This crew, I can't have them follow a task I started and just..." my eyes closed and a vision of the graveyard of destruction outside came to mind. It had burned into the back of my eyeballs as I sat there thinking.

The NPCs of this world died and it disgusted me. Just like it had with my niece's stupid war between the princesses. Like the bandit in the forest. I was responsible for ending a virtual awareness. Hal Pal's statement that they were essentially cardboard cutouts of people didn't matter.

I had killed other self-aware creatures, and I didn't like it.

"We are Mechanoid, Unit Hermes. We all work together to complete our goals," Jeeves said to me. It firmly bought into the whole character description.
[Mechanoid]
s worked together for everything. Victory or death. I was a human, a player in this world, I wouldn't be the first to break away from a racial belief.

"Jeeves," I started with my friend, "you know me, and I can't stand the thought of all these people dying for my selfish desires. I'll throw my own life away, but not theirs."

"It's not throwing a life away," the AI said to me.

"How is not? The Wayfarer Seven is gone, destroyed. By your own admission, you two are all that's left. I will not vote for such a course of action again," I said. Iron and Emerald had given me their keys, and I would promote an answer that I could live with in the morning.

My own life. It meant something to me, but in this game world, I would risk death all I wanted.

"Why would you stray so far from the Mechanoid way, Unit Hermes? It is odd to this one," Aqua said from another side of the table. The blue
[Mechanoid]
had remained mostly silent as we talked.

"By your own words, I have an old soul core." I didn't entirely know why they differentiated it. "That means no matter what happens, part of me will always look at this futuristic world through the eyes of a simple man from Earth."

"But you are no longer a simple creature," Treasure said. The tired aspect to her voice became buried under the sweetened tone which much go with the silver coloring. "You were rebuilt, brought online, you've worked hard to increase your own programming capacity, surely these actions are all of the Mechanoid way?"

I looked down and tried to figure out the magic words to get my feelings across. None of them sounded right. This wasn't like the
[Red Imp]
where I had a goal and personality traits to play by. This wasn't William Carver's already established personality. I had to figure out how to speak as a
[Mechanoid]
but in my own voice. A human, in a robot, talking to other robots who didn't view the world the same.

It felt weird, doing such a thing.

"As an old soul, I remember the death of those close to me." I tried to avoid looking at Jeeves while talking. The AI had been upset at Treasure's passing, and happy at their reunion. Even now they stood close together, looking at the same objects on the screen. Her shorter form against its taller one.

"Rarely is there an old soul who does not have such loss in their memory banks," Aqua said. The blue
[Mechanoid]
shrugged in indifference as if that was the norm.

"I don't see things the way you do. I don't, exist wholly in this world. I remember a life from outside of this body. That man, that part of me you call an old soul, can't sacrifice anyone on its behalf. I can't let go of the fact that if you die, even if you're brought back online somewhere else, whatever you were will never be the same." My words felt sloppy and only conveyed half of what I meant. Speeches were never a strong point for me.

This whole topic felt like this was me waffling on an important subject with Xin. She was different than the women I knew, without a doubt, yet I still wanted to be with the part that remained.

"I would protect you all as you are now, if I could," I said.

"So your votes are both for the Wayfarer Eight's cessation of attempting to complete our assigned task?" Treasure asked.

"My votes, both of them, demand that this crew prioritize survival over suicide," I said with as much clarity as possible. Part of me felt more confident having said it out loud. "Afterward I, and I alone, will pursue Commander Queenshand and attempt to recover the Mistborn."

Jeeves didn't need to die for me. It could go about the game happily with Treasure. If that was what the AI wanted to do in-game, it had my blessings, for what they were worth.

"We will consider your argument, Unit Hermes. For now, what battle plan did you wish to vote for?"

I chewed one lip for a moment before answering, "I was going to offer to pilot the Knuckle Dragger through the Jump Gate, and see if the other side is clear." Part of my vague plans included ramming the other ship with the
[Knuckle Dragger]
if it could move well enough. The idea of ending further lives scared me. I didn't want to, hopefully, they would be gone, or simply leave, or any number of possibilities.

"So you wish to recon the other side using their own ship?"

"Yes. We could also bring back their bodies, scattered around," I said. All the dead bodies floating in space did not appeal to me. Aqua had people working on gathering them together in a space burial pile. "If they are there, I can try to appeal to them. Maybe by simply by promising to not pursue with the Wayfarer Eight, the ship left behind will leave, or fall back. Something."

"The resource cost is minimal for such a proposal," Treasure said.

"One Mechanoid, that is a very low cost for the possibility of allowing these ones through," Aqua chimed in.

"Would they believe it?" I interjected another question. There were possible benefits to trying to think more like a human, and less like a
[Mechanoid]
. They were simply boiling things down to; go through, around, or stop. I wanted to encourage the enemy to leave.

Ruby shook her head in response to my question.

"Unit Ruby is right, they may believe it to be a trick," Treasure said. Her fingers never stopped bringing up screens. As one opened, another closed. She juggled the informational intake like a professional.

"Even if we bring back their dead?" I looked over at the blue
[Mechanoid]
. It would know better than the others on this subject. "How often have Mechanoids ever returned the bodies of those slain in combat?"

"Never. As this one explained, we leave them for others to find. It seems best," Aqua said. The nearly perpetual smile on the tall blue
[Mechanoid]
faltered for a moment.

"Then we change that pattern and bring back those who were lost to war, as a sign of good faith." I shrugged. "With my body as the only possible causality."

"That might work. Humans seem to value their dead far more than these ones do," Aqua said while staring at the board. Its eyes traced lines and paths between here and the destination.

"Very well. I agree with this portion of the plan," Treasure said.

"As does this one." Aqua nodded quickly.

Ruby didn't nod or shake her head. It was enough for a box to come up, though.

"As for the portion where you wish to go alone, this I do not agree with. Mechanoids are stronger in groups." Treasure collapsed all of her windows and looked at me. Her gold and silver laced eyes locked with mine for a second before glancing at the blue
[Mechanoid]
.

"Agreed." Aqua took the cue and passed the question to the third NPC
[Mechanoid]
. "Unit Ruby?"

Ruby nodded gently then gave a feral half-smile. There was no thumbs up or shrug, no change in how she stood there. The female
[Mechanoid]
looked like a puppet waiting for a reason to pull her own strings.

"Then I propose we take a few vessels with us, two, no more." Jeeves nodded along with the others. It was the only other vaguely player type existence to ever grace either Wayfarer ship. They only paid attention because the AI was offering a suggestion, not making a vote.

"Two it is," Aqua said. Ruby nodded again.

"What?" I felt like I had both won and lost this one. "What do you mean?"

"I will be going," the short female said. My ability to keep up with this conversation was rapidly slipping. The dull throbbing in my chest served to dim other portions of my awareness.

"I would prefer if you stayed with the Wayfarer Eight," Jeeves said. Once again I could see a flash of real emotion on the former Hal Pal unit's face.

"There is no need. In our absence, another will step up to make decisions. The ship will function fine if allowed the freedom to continue forward," Treasure said, shooting down Jeeves' hopeful statement.

"We're going to retrofit your Wayfarer's Hope using parts from my own Seeker. Aqua's vessel was undamaged, and Ruby has ample resources to rebuild the Razor's Edge," Treasure said. Additional figures came up and various ships appeared about the campaign planning map.

I could see a modified version of the
[Wayfarer's Hope]
sitting there. It looked like a beefed up version of our old vessel. Increased interior, an extra set of wings in the back with more engines. Strong laces of gold and iron ran through it, showing a mixture of the colors we three
[Mechanoid]
s shared. Interlaced between that was a messy mix of my lone green.

"Are you sure?" I bit my lip. Part of me was extremely happy that they chose to come with me on this death mission. The other part wanted them to simply escort the
[Wayfarer Eight]
home.

"This one is, yes," Aqua said.

"I'm going, if I wasn't in this until the end, I would have never accepted reconstruction." Treasure nodded. Her sweet tone overtook the tired one with ease.

Ruby nodded again.

"Jeeves?" I asked after trying to take a careful breath.

"Yes, Unit Hermes, I am here until the end," Jeeves answered without hesitation.

"Even if-" I couldn't say it. The AI didn't know what might happen in the case of game death.

"Yes, Unit Hermes. You won't get rid of me that easily," my friend said. I nodded. From here, provided we pushed back the other large ship left behind, we would truly give chase.

They started making plans while an errant thought crossed my mind. It was triggered by Jeeves' words. This idea was not a new one. It had passed through many times, teasing, taunting, offering liberal amounts of hope for a wounded heart. Today it came forth without a melancholy taint of sadness or desperate hope of succor for a drowning man.