Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) (49 page)

Speaking
of, it was time for the next list of names.

“
What
do you think of Jörmungandr?” I made the ARC tell me how
to pronounce that one.

The
small
[Messenger's Pet]
looked up and huffed a smoke ring at
me. That seemed to symbolize disagreement or annoyance.

“
Leviathan?”
Another milder smoke ring appeared. The
[Messenger's
Pet]
seemed
less annoyed with this name.

“
No
huh? You do seem a bit small for a Leviathan. They’re big I
hear.” Not that I had met any. In my world, the legend of a
leviathan was most likely based on creatures like the now extinct
giant squid.

“
Ouroboros?”
He outright coughed and a spark of fire flared up for a brief moment.
“Woh, remember, no fire in the house.”

Multiple
[Coo-Coo Rill]
s had perished in the last few days. This was
due to the
[Messenger's Pet]
and his flames. I also lost three
new player maps. Strangely the little creature decided toasting
cupcakes was a taboo. He took extra care only to use claws and teeth
when devouring the snacks.

“
Still
no, right?” The tiny creature nodded. Clearly he was smart
enough to understand my words. He also felt like a child in the
respect that his attention wandered very quickly.

“
What
are you looking for?” I shuffled into the next room after him
gripping objects and desks for support. Everything hurt but after the
simulated heart attacks these pains almost seemed mild.

A
week ago I threw names of Wyverns at him. Those had resulted in an
outright bark of flames. Turned out he didn’t like being
compared to a Wyvern. According to the ARC’s Internet searches,
there was a hierarchy among mythical beasts. Wyverns were portrayed
as dumber and had no front limbs. More like scaly bats. Dragons had
four limbs and two wings.

“
Maybe
you should find some letters and write out your name with them.”
Old Man Carver didn’t own a fridge with children’s
magnates, though. I checked. There was no widespread usage of a
printing press in this world. No stamps which to borrow.

Maybe
[Messenger's Pet]
’s didn’t come with spelling
skills. Or maybe it had a name and I was failing to guess it.

“
Rumpelstiltskin?”
The latest attempt was more for my own amusement.

The
[Messenger's Pet]
had cornered one of my city maps. There were
two kinds, one was a smaller handheld one that seemed to appear
endlessly in William Carver's clothes. They were always in the same
pocket, even if I had given one away already.

His
other map was a table wide one that unrolled over the entire desk. It
didn’t contain more notes than the smaller version. The size
was useful enough and made things far easier to read with this body’s
blurry vision.

“
What’s
this now?” He nosed out the map carefully instead of using
claws. When nudging things the
[Messenger's
Pet]
had
terrible control.

“
Town,
yes, I’ve seen this before.” Many countless times by now.
Even if I started as a new character with no inventory
[Haven
Valley]
would
still yield plenty of results. If I started here anyway. My still
nameless
[Messenger
Pet]
lifted
one foot and set it back down with some force. He repeated the motion
enough that even I got the hint.

“
What
are you on about now?” I said which resulted in a growl from
the little guy.
“
Yes,
there’s one of the smiths. Here’s us.” I ran a
finger around the town slowly establishing what the small creature
was talking about.

There was
something different here now.

“
What’s
this now?” I asked. While there were almost always new notes
and possibilities to read on the map. Progressing with my Old Man
Carver synergy bar had revealed a whole series of secrets. What the
[Messenger's
Pet]
had
found was something new.

This
wasn’t one of my known buildings, one of the barely defined
shapes that resembled houses and key points as seen from above. My
newest map point was a black inky dot that almost seemed to be
looking at me. I narrowed already barely open eyelids at the map in a
squint.

“
Mmmh.”
I put my finger right under the new destination and tapped the cane
in my other hand.
“
Ah
ha! Adventure!”

There
was a dungeon in town. I knew because the map said so.
[Maze of
Midnight (Dungeon – Beginner)]
The reason I never noticed
was in the name itself. On top of that was an obvious description.
This dungeon only opened at midnight and Old Man Carver typically
passed out well before then.

Even
now my stamina bar was almost completely drained. I was also covered
in nicks and bruises from trying to assemble the tourist bike before
tonight. Usually, I was passed out or logged off well before midnight
in the game.

Was
that a good adventure?

I
nodded. It would do. If Old Man Carver could take down a dragon, he
could at least make it to the front door. Not tonight, though.
Tomorrow I would do one last set of rounds and start preparing for
the dungeon to the best of my ability. Maybe the handbook had some
more hints.

“
Nngh.”
A thought occurred to me that made the whole prospect undesirable.
“I’ll need a party, won’t I?”

Going
into a dungeon with Pie Master would be unhealthy.

Unless
he brought pie, or better yet cupcakes. Then I could bribe my
[Messenger's Pet]
to attack all the monsters for me. I tucked
in and let Carver’s body get some rest while logging back to my
Atrium for research. Hopefully, I would be able to keep myself awake
for a few more minutes of research.

“
ARC,
resume search for Trillium employees. Add an expansion for employees,
outlying contractors and family members. Set search limits for the
date range to four years, and status to deceased.” I issued a
series of orders.

“
Parameters
updated. Search resuming.” The machine slaving away.

“
ARC,
initiate a second search, Maze of Midnight.”

Results
compiled in front of me. I shuffled the deceased listings off to one
side for later review. The
[Maze of Midnight]
would probably
come up empty. There were two songs, fourteen terrible poems, a band,
and some obscure hacking incident. Nothing here looked like legend or
lore to tip me off. There was a tip in the Continue paper handbook
talking about how most in game things were based on real legends and
myths. From the name I could assume this place was a maze, but that
was already in the description too.

“
Remove
search results for Maze of Midnight.” The files shattered into
light and I was left with the first pile for deceased.

Pictures
were found, reports of how people passed, obituary notices. Nothing
resembled Old Man Carver's in-game face. Not even if I backed my
brain up a few years and accounted for time lapses between worlds. I
scattered the second set of research with a wave and propped my
virtual chin onto one hand.

As
usual the
[Messenger's Pet]
had followed me to the Atrium. He
was currently staring up at my cabinets with a quizzical turn to his
head.

“
ARC.”
I paused for too long.

“
Awaiting
input.”

Goodness,
I was having a hard time figuring out what to do next. “Pause
command.”

I
had gotten the bike together. I had arranged for Wyl and Dayl to
cover my shift in the event of my passing, in case this whole thing
was a final countdown. Enduring chest pains and a bad limp along with
all this other complexity was incredibly aggravating. There was still
a piece to the Old Man Carver puzzle and nothing clicked right.

“
ARC.
Resume. Display Continue.” A small box appeared to the side
feeding me an image of Old Man Carver snoring away in bed. Everything
looked normal and lined up perfectly with my standard view. I sighed
and snorted out air much like the
[Messenger's
Pet]
might.

“
Bah!”
I tilted to one side. Standing on my head for a change in perspective
didn’t help, plus Old Man Carver's body couldn’t handle
it. I did this sort of antic in the Atrium where my movement was far
less restricted. There had to be some clue to make this all work. So
far I had tried a dozen internet searches. I even downloaded a few
scenic programs and tried to see if they would stir any thoughts from
a change of pace.

The
windswept cliff overlooking a majestic valley hadn’t helped. A
pod in outer space with opposing views towards the earth and moon
hadn’t helped. It was pretty, just not pretty useful.

Purchasing
a ride along movie of Dragon Skies, one of the most popular action
first person films to be released this year, didn't help. The scenes
were intense and over the top, but since it scripted actions
everything felt artificial. The player behind Old Man Carver had
lived a true life and death encounter to get a
[Dragon Slayer]
achievement. Each choice his own, each action and reaction trained
and honed.

What
had the player thought during these moments? Was he elated? Did he
feel a rush for battle? I personally would have wet myself. The
depicted dragons were many times taller than my house. Standing
against that while shouting defiantly was not my style. I would
whimper like a mouse and crawl off.

“
How
did he do it?” I got up and paced around. “How did he
challenge so many things while feeling that kind of pain and
feedback?” Great, now I was talking out loud to the
[Messenger's
Pet]
.
At least it was in the privacy of my Atrium.

“
I
mean I have a hard enough logging in and walking around. I can’t
imagine that years ago he was much better.” This was somehow
worse to me than anyone who talked to a cat. The
[Messenger's
Pet]
was
a digital program and I was in a computer generated reality.

“
For
what, if the time compression held, at least six years? More?”
The journals actually went back just shy of thirty years according to
what I had pieced together. There weren’t any real data stamps,
only markers of how long specific portions took.

I
had to tally them all up in reverse order while trying to pry
information out of the most talkative NPCs like Peg. She never
stopped her mouth and was either chatting mindless or correcting some
student who was failing.

“
Seriously.
ARC!” I was getting livid and tired now.

“
Awaiting
input.”

“
Show
Trillium members with heart problems! All, alive or deceased.”