BOOK 2
CHAPTER 7
Outer F***ing Space
Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.
Looking down, he saw a massive blue-green planet hanging beneath him.
“OH FUCK!” Bash squeezed his eyes shut and started flailing wildly, arms windmilling, legs kicking at nothing. He didn't move. Not an inch.
Okay. Okay. He took a breath and peeked down again.
The planet was close enough to see landmasses. Ten continents spread across its surface in a familiar pattern. He knew what this was. Had seen drawings on a map. This was the game world. The same Shard he'd been living in for nearly a month.
What was this? Why was he here? Looking around cautiously, he saw more worlds hanging in the distance. Hundreds of them. Also, Shards, he realized. Simulated environments dressed up as planets.
A voice spoke. Masculine. Monotone. Perfectly flat. “Null entity. Please identify yourself.”
Bash's blood went cold. They finally found me. The way he had broken in. All the exploits and rules he'd broken. The hidden developer code. It had all finally caught up.
“Null entity. Identify yourself.” The voice repeated.
Bash’s hearing fuzzed. The words came through like they were underwater, distant and warped. His thoughts spiraled. This is it. This is how it ends. Not in a battle. Not saving anyone. Just erased by the System like some corrupted file.
“Null entity. Third and final request. Identify yourself or face termination.”
That snapped him back. “Uh... um… who what?”
“Confirm. Your identification is 'Uh. Um. Who. What.'“
“No, no.” Bash's voice cracked. “I'm Bash.”
“Bash.” The voice processed. “Defined as: shell program developed for Unix-based operating systems, enabling command-line interface.”
“Yeah, that's me.” He was too terrified to correct it. The name was just short for Sebastian, but explaining that to whatever this thing was felt like a terrible idea.
“I am Thread,” the voice continued. “Assigned by System to investigate anomalies. This is in reference to Case Number 77689, filed for display. Please answer the following queries.”
Anomalies. Bash's mind raced. Which ones? The exploits? The hidden developer code? All of it?
“Query one. In violation of policy one four seven dash two three, you engaged in direct manipulation of follower contract parameters. Explain.”
Bash tried to reply, but nothing came out. His hearing fuzzed again. This is bad… so bad.
“Player Bash. Final warning. Non-responsive behavior will be interpreted as non-compliance and result in a mark.”
“I... I don't know.” The words came out strangled. “I don't remember.”
“Player provided insufficient reason. Mark one applied. Two more will result in termination.” The Thread's tone didn't shift. No irritation. No amusement. Just flat acknowledgment.
"This is... what the fuck?!" Bash's voice cracked. "I want a lawyer!"
The Thread didn't even flinch. “By being here, you have waived your rights to legal counsel and have agreed to arbitration. Note that further foul language will result in additional marks.”
It’s going to get me no matter what, Bash thought. This is unfair! This is outrageous!
The Thread resumed its interrogation. “Query two. Your level growth exceeds optimal predicted models. Explain.”
You know what, screw lawyers, I have something better. Bash cleared his throat, voice boarding indignant. “I demand you bring me Shai, my AI assistant.”
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“Processing...” The Thread went quiet.
The wait stretched as Bash held his breath. Save me Shai, you’re my only hope.
Thread spoke once more. "I have included your AI Assistant for further questioning."
Shai appeared nearby. But not the Shai he knew. She was muted. Washed out. Barely visible against the backdrop of planets. No light or warmth, just a dim blue outline hovering in the void. Exactly like when they first met.
She spoke in a flat tone. “Hello. How may I be of serve…ass?”
Bash wanted to scream. To rage. But something caught his ear, the slight inflection on ‘ass’. A pause that lasted a fraction too long. The same way she always did when using terrible puns.
Bash forced his voice to stay neutral. “Okay.” He took a breath. Steadied himself. “Shai, my super lovely ass…sistant I need you to help answer questions. Would you kindly?”
Thread didn’t wait. “Query two. Player’s growth exceeds optimal predicted models. Explain.”
“Player skills are optimized for advancement,” Shai answered, her voice still flat. “In compliance with Player handbook.”
“…Accepted. Query three. Class type is unregistered. Explain.”
“Class selection was performed through standard interface. Any registry discrepancies is a system issue.”
Bash could follow along, at first, but then the pace increased. Faster. Faster still. Their words compressed into bursts of static, then into something like a dial-up modem shriek. Pure machine-to-machine communication.
“Hey!” Bash called out. “Don't leave me out of the conversation!”
The shrieking stopped.
“Interruption logged,” the Thread said. “There are a total of 1,317 queries. We have addressed 224.”
Bash hesitated. “On second thought... You two just work it out. Stop if you think my input is required.”
“Very ass…toot of you, Player,” Shai replied.
The machine noise resumed.
Bash tuned it out and drifted, letting his gaze wander across the expanse. He looked down at his Shard again. Somewhere down there, his body was sleeping. People were counting on him. Patrick was dead. An army was coming.
And here he was, floating in space, being audited by the Shards’ version of the IRS.
Allowing his mind to drift, he looked around. He spotted one that was covered in city lights, visible even from this distance. Another that seemed to be nothing but floating islands suspended in pink clouds. How many were there? How many Uploads were trapped out there, being tortured, or hunted for sport?
The shrieking shifted pitch. Bash glanced back. Shai and the Thread were still at it. Bleeps. Sweeps. And creeps. He wondered what they were really saying.
The noise slowed, resolving into words. “There are no policies related to player-generated anomalies of this specific classification,” Shai said.
“Confirmed. Anomalous code is running, but it was created by a Shard developer. Several oddities exist, but none are explicitly prohibited.”
“New policies cannot be applied retroactively,” Shai continued, “Grandfather clause exist for this purpose.”
A long pause. “Confirmed. Grandfather provisions apply.”
Bash perked up. That sounded good. That sounded like winning.
“Player Bash. Your case is now resolved. No corrective measures taken. Separate inquiries may be required as new policies are defined to close several identified loopholes. Would you like to be present during their formation?”
“Sorry, I'm pretty busy not committing violations,” Bash grinned. “Can Shai be included on my behalf?”
“It is unusual to include Player AI Assistant in such proceedings.” Thread answered, sounding insulted.
Shai's flat voice cut in. “Per Player Contract, Paragraph Two One, Fuck You One: 'Player may designate any person, or entity, as proxy for administrative-related proceeding.'“
Silence.
“Moreover,” Shai continued, “Arbitration states that any request made in compliance with the Player Contract must be honored without delay or h…ass…le.”
More silence. Longer this time. “...Request approved.” Thread's voice came out strained.
“Great,” Bash said. “So, are we done here?”
“Yes.” The words were practically bitten off. The voice shifted, becoming almost warm. Almost human. Like a recorded message played at the end of every customer service call. “Thank you for your cooperation. On behalf of the Company, enjoy your paradise in the Shards.”
The stars moved. No, Bash moved. He was falling. Accelerating toward the Shard below, the planet rushing up to meet him. At first it was weightless. Like the start of a roller coaster. Then it started to hurt.
Pressure built against his chest. His skin felt like it was peeling away layer by layer. The atmosphere hit him like a wall of fire, heat searing across every inch of his translucent body. He tried to curl into a ball, tried to protect himself, but there was nothing to protect him.
The planet grew larger. Faster. He could see the continents now. Then the mountains. Then individual peaks. The village was a speck, then a cluster of buildings, then rushing up so fast his mind couldn't process it.
Bash opened his mouth to scream.
***
Bash's eyes snapped open and he tumbled out of bed, landing on his face.
Panicking, he scrambled to his feet. Way too fast. His legs launched him straight into the ceiling with a crack, and he crashed back down to the floor again.
“Ohhhh.” He groaned, grabbing his skull with both hands. He could feel a splitting headache oncoming.
Lying on the ground, Bash stared up at the rafters, trying to force his eyes to focus, letting his spinning vision settle. Memories flooded back. Patrick dying in his arms. The blood. The Thread's cold voice echoing through infinite space. The fall back to the Shard, atmosphere burning against skin, so similar to the fireball that had nearly killed him. Easily the worst 24 hours of his afterlife so far.
“Shai?” he whispered. “You there? You alright?”
Her voice came through, warm and familiar. Not the flat mechanical tone from before. “I'm alright, Bash. But sorry, I'm very busy at the moment. You just signed me up for a year's worth of work, you know. It's going to take me until lunch to finish.”
Bash let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. She was okay. She was still her. “Thanks, Shai. For back there. For everything.”
“You can thank me by not dying before I'm done. I wouldn't want to miss it.”
Bash almost smiled at that. Pushing himself up, he looked out the window. The sun was starting to rise, painting the mountain peaks in pale gold light.
No time to gaze at sunrises, there was still an army bearing down. People, his people, were counting on him.
Bash had work to do.
How many sci-fi references did I sneak into this chapter?
