Chapter 2 – Delivery
The subway platform was covered in mud and other less pleasant things. Over to one side, a bunch of people slept. Whether they were homeless or not, I had no clue. Like everyone else, I kept to myself. I kept an eye out for the train while listening to some song my AI had added to my playlist thinking I might like it — and so far I did.
The train's brakes emitted a grinding, squealing sound as it came to a jerky stop. While the speakers and LED board no longer worked to announce the train’s arrival, the large painted letters on the side identified it as the one I needed to take. It was practically empty as I entered one of the cars.
Choosing instead to stand next to one of the more solid looking sections of the wall. The seats in this section were long taken after finally disintegrating to the point that someone could get seriously hurt. Swaying with the motion of the train I pulled out my phone to resume my research.
My music quieted as the voice of my AI greeted me the moment I opened a browser. “Would you like for me to find good deals on used pods?” Yeah, the thing was a bit invasive, but considering that everything reported everything you did to any company willing to pay for it, I found that I really didn’t care.
Seeing as I wasn’t the only one on the train, I kept my response vague. “Sure, see what I can get and how long I can live if nothing changes.”
“Researching.” The volume of my music returned to normal as I worked through various scenarios in my head. That check was enough to cover everything for a year or more without issues. Hell, I could probably stretch it to last another couple of months, as long as nothing major happened. Then again, I would still have to find a job.
But if I bought a pod and joined the game, I could theoretically make money without needing to find a traditional job. The problem was time. How long would I have to play the game? Would I even have time to find a niche to exploit? How long would it last? How much work would it take?
By the time my AI got back to me with some options, I had more questions than answers. “I found a couple that are within your budget. Each is a used unit, but they come with quality and support guarantees.” A series of pods appeared on my screen. Clicking on the first page, I gave everything included with it a once-over before glancing at the price.
The price was nearly a quarter the cost of a new pod, yet it still came with the same features. It would seem too good to be true if not for a recent law requiring every seller, whether offering new or used products, to include the product’s previous owners and reason for sale. This meant I could read through the entire history of the device.
The unit I was looking at had originally belonged to some rich kid. They sold it back to the company in return for a discount on their newest pod just a few weeks ago. According to the history, the company ripped every system out and replace it with like or better parts. Honestly, it was a steal.
My AI must have realized what I was contemplating as another screen came up. It was filled with numbers and figures listing out a purposed budget based on my spending history. The AI numbers looked a bit conservative with the numbers in case prices went up or a small emergency occured. Based on the data, I could last just shy of six months with no issues.
Sighing, I put my phone away as we approached the stop for one of the business districts. The very district where my bank was. “I would recommend making a decision in the next ten minutes as the likelihood of that pod being sold is increasing.” AI’s tended to be pushy when they thought the answer was simple, but they were also just machines. They didn’t have pesky human emotions and doubts.
A few jerking movements later, the train ground to a stop just short of thestation marker. Stepping off, I found myself practically assaulted by a religious nut job. “THE END IS NEAR!” he screamed in my face. The smell he gave off had me holding my breath as I tried not to gag or throwup. I shoved past him as he kept screaming. “THE WAR BETWEEN THE GODS AND THE DEMONS HAS BEGUN. REPENT AND TAKE UP ARMS OR YOU WILL GO TO HELL!”
I joined a small group of people as they made their way out of the subway and into the building proper. The place was bustling. People flowed from one shop to another, from kiosks to crowded sitting areas. Other than those here with someone, no one interacted unless absolutely necessary. I didn’t blame them, not with the number of stabbings that had happened in the last month alone.
Breaking away from the crowd going in the wrong direction, I hustled across the floor. Passing dead plants and small hallways with people passed out from one drug or another. While a few stores open here or there, nearly all of them had something covering one window or door. The faint smell of smoke caught my attention, dragging my eyes toward the source.
One of the stores was a burned-out husk. There was no evidence of water or foam. It was almost as if the fire department had simply let the place burn, or had been forced to. My heart raced as I noticed people standing on either side. They seemed to measure everyone as they passed. Glinting metal in their hands told me they weren’t just curious about those coming and going. The problem was, now that I’d noticed them, any action I took would seem more suspicious. Like I was waving a flare saying that I was someone they needed to pay attention to — maybe even mug.
I forced myself to keep my pace even until I passed the security guard standing just outside the door to my bank. The room beyond was brightly lit. I had once asked why the place was so bright, the security guard said the bank’s insurance required it.
Other than the one teller, there was no one else in the bank. Still, I followed the rope maze until I reached the line on the floor indicating where to wait. She looked up at me before returning to whatever she was doing. While I was sure it had nothing to do with work, it wasn’t worth demanding her attention, not when she could refuse to help me. Since I had to deposit this check in person, it wouldn’t be good to antagonize her.
Finally, she put her phone aside and gestured for me to approach. “What can I do for you today?”
“I would like to deposit a check,” I said, pulling the envelope from my lunch box.
She took the envelope and pulling out the check. One of her eyebrows raised when she read the amount. “May I ask how you came into this kind of money?”
Passing her my bank card, I simply responded, “I was laid off.”
Other than a brief wince, she didn’t react. Instead, she pulled out a form for me to fill out. “OK, I will need for you to fill out a bit of paperwork.” The form was something the government required for any decent sized deposit. It asked where the money came from as well as contact information for both parties. I filled the document out without issue. It wasn’t like I had gotten it from some gambling ring or illicit sale.
She barely glanced at the paperwork before dropping it and my check into a shoot. Turning back to me, she handed back my card. “Your money will be available by the end of the day,” She said in obvious dismissal.
Taking the hint, I quickly made my way out of the bank and down to the subway. I stayed as far as possible from the religious nut job and his friends. As I waited for my train, I pulled out my phone and pressed the buy button. I had played it safe for long enough now, and where had it gotten me? If there was a time to take a risk, it was now.
“Your purchase should arrive later today,” my AI chimed in my ear.
“I’m guessing you have a spot picked out for it?” I murmured, knowing it would hear me.
“The front room slash living room is near every panel the device needs access to. Based on your history of playing games for days on end with little to no rest, this spot will not hinder any other activities, as there will likely be none.” Was that snark? Was my AI calling me obsessive? I mean, it wasn’t wrong but still.
A train limped its way into the station. One of the doors was missing and various windows were shattered. To my surprise, it came to a perfect stop where it was supposed to. So at least the breaks were in great condition, even if the rest of the thing was practically scrap at this point.
I got on as fast as I could, making sure I found a spot far enough away from the doors and windows that nothing would hit me in the face. Well, that or if the train jerked hard enough for me to lose my balance. Not that it mattered much, I was one of the few to choose this car.
The entire train car suddered violently and the lights dimmed as the motors started turning. I tried to put the situation out of my mind, focusing instead on watching various videos of people playing the game. None of the players were all that specific with information. If anything, they were just showing off their skills and items.
“Can you find some game guides for me?” I asked the AI. I wanted to get a head start on planning how to build my character. Maybe even find some good advice on quest areas.
So imagine my surprise when my AI responded saying, “There are no reputable guides available at this time for the game Ascent to Aetheria. Would you like me to keep an eye out for one?” Now that was weird. Even games that had been out for a week had some sort of guide available, even if it was woefully incomplete. The fact that there was nothing meant that either no one wanted to reveal any of their secrets, or that someone was removing them from the web.
The train stuttered to a halt as it reached my station. The smell of ozone and smoke hit my nose as every light in the cab flickered before going dark. People around me groaned, while I smiled a little. It wasn’t the first time I had to walk home after a train finally crapped out. At least this time it decided to do so here and not across town.
“Is there any general information about the game available?” I asked, putting my phone away as I left the train. Various other people quickly following behind me, trying to get to the street so they could find the nearest working platform.
“There are a number of forum posts and blogs discussing the basics of the game and the world.”
“Wait, I thought you said that there were no guides?”
“These are not guides.” Of course they weren’t. Goddamned AI and its need to be exact. While I would consider those guides, the AI didn’t because they were not labeled as such.
“Ok,” I said, trying to not yell at the thing, “compare everything available and give me a rundown of the parts that generally agree.”
“Three aspects of the game are common amongst the majority of the blogs. The biggest of which is a complaint about the developers' refusal to reveal how stats are calculated.”
“So, there are no equations for stats?” I doubted that. Even if the game didn’t reveal them, people would find a way to calculate stats themselves.
“Native to the game? No. But some players have experimented enough to establish some commonly accepted equations.”
A tap of my keycard opened the buildings lobby door. “Equations?” I asked as I quickly made my way in. Taking a second to pull the door closed behind me. This building didn’t have a homeless population, and we all wanted to keep it that way.
“There are equations for each physical stat as well as some magical one, but there are mentions of certain stats affecting things that are harder to quantify.”
Lucky for me, the elevator was working today and just so happened to be on the first floor. Pressing the button for my floor, I prompted the AI to continue. “Give me a basic rundown of the physical stats.”
“For strength, each point increases how much you can carry, push, or pull by approximately one percent.” While that wasn’t as much as in other games, the basic idea was the same. “Every point of agility increases a person's ability to move. Vitality mainly increases the player's ability to heal and the durability of their body. Some players recommend balancing strength, agility, and vitality. There reason includes and example where a player focuses on strength. As the player goes to move, their muscles tear and bones break as their strength rips their body apart.”
Well, that was different. Most games forced you to increase vitality once strength grew past a certain point, but none allowed you to ignore that limit. This game let people make the choice to hurt themselves if they wanted to. “What about the mental stats?” Given that there was magic, there had to be something mental on the stat sheet.
“Intelligence increases mana capacity. While the increase is negligible, it also seems to increase a player’s ability to process information.” Interesting. How were they doing that? Unlike physical stats, there wasn’t a simple way for a game to fake an increase in cognitive function. Maybe the pod took on a portion of the load for the player. “Wisdom increases mana regeneration. Each point also seems to help players make connections they may not have noticed otherwise.”
The worn metal door of my apartment opened easily. While the building owner didn’t care about little things like that, I sure did. A single couch sat faced a wall of glass overlooking the street and cityscape. As the door clicked shut behind me, the glass darkened, replaced by various blog pages and highlighted text.
“There are some equations correlating three of the stats.” One of the pages slid down until a single equation stood front and center. It looked like it had something to do with reaction speed. “Agility, intelligence, and wisdom seem to all affect how fast the user can react to a given situation.”
That made logical sense, but I wondered — did the developers add it intentionally, or were players seeing something that wasn’t truly there? Then again, did it matter? Even if it wasn’t programmed in, knowing those three stats could affect a player’s reaction speed was something I would need to keep in mind. “What about dexterity and charisma?”
“Dexterity affects a player's ability to stretch, contort, or perform complex movements. Charisma affects how others perceive you. Unfortunately, neither stat has any hard equations, only theories and observations.”
The AI continued scrolling through the page, letting me skim over everything. Seeing something, I called out to the AI. “Wait, what is that about a war brewing in the game?” The text stopped before jumping back to the section that mentioned it.
Multiple people have reported human NPCs treating other races as second-class citizens. Even going so far as to outright refuse to pay for items. Sometimes even going so far as to get abusive. While I have personally never seen this happen, I am not surprised. Valoria is a human-centrist nation that doesn’t punish its citizens for actions taken against other races. Some cities even go so far as to reward citizens that do so. Now, I don’t know about you but this reminds me of some historical events that led up to the Second World War.
This makes me think that war is on the horizon, which should generate some interesting content. What bothers me is how some players are acting. I am not referring to those that join in because they can or because they feel pressured to do so — those people exist in every game.
What is concerning is how friends that I have known for years are suddenly acting with complete disregard for in-game consequences. When I confronted one, they shrugged saying “It’s just a game. No one is forcing you to participate.”
Now, I get that it is a game, but their sudden shift in attitude is unsettling. Especially since these are people that tend to take good or neutral characters. Then again, neither option tends to pay out. With bills to pay, you do what you have to do.
The blogger had a point. It sounded like a war was on the horizon and that there would be players on both sides. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that, so why did the post bother me? Before I could ask the AI, the door buzzed.
“Aetherian Technologies is at the door.”
The glass in front of me turned transparent, minimizing the browser windows. I made my way to the door. “That was fast.”
Three men stood on the other side as I opened it, one holding a tablet while the other two double-checked boxes on their dollies. “Mrs. Alex Morgon?” the man with the tablet asked, glancing at me before scanning the room behind me.
I resisted the urge to yell at him. Forcusing instead on taking a deep breath before calmly replying, “Mr., but yes.”
“Sorry,” he said, though his voice was neutral. He probably didn’t care. He was here to do a job and nothing else. Holding out the tablet, he continued, “Please sign here and tell us where you would like the pod installed.”
Rather than just sign it, I took the pad and walked back into the room. As I started reading over it, I called to the AI, “Please tell them where to install the pod.” After that, I tuned everything around me out. Ignoring the AI’s response or its instructions as I read over page after page of legalese and technical jargon.
I didn’t understand a fraction of it. My AI and maybe even the delivery people knew this. I didn’t care. I was just scanning for any of the more common traps or tricks companies might slip into their contracts. Not that I would find them if they really tried to hide them, but why take the chance?
I didn’t find anything. The only document I noticed was one detailing the pod’s history, how it had been refurbished, and the warranty. With one final signature, I handed the tablet back. He tapped through the pages, verifying that I hadn’t missed something.
Turning, I saw that they had pushed my couch and table to the side of the room. In its place was a giant tube. It looked like it could fit two of me inside of it. The lid was slid back while various panels were off as the technicians connected cables and installed modules.
Seeing two large cables going from the pod to a panel in the wall, I asked, “Hey, AI, where do these cables go?”
“One is connected to the central power junction for the apartment. There is a technician down there adding a separate breaker for the system. The other connects to my server. Allowing the system to use my dedicated network connection as well as allowing me access to you in-game. Assuming you purchase the add-on that is.”
Yeah, I had my own server running the AI. What could I say, I liked being able to modify my AI without some companies limitations. Plus, it is the only thing I really talk to outside of work.
The two technicians finished around the same time. Closing up various panels and boxes as the man next to me spoke up. “Would you like a tutorial on the device, or are you good?”
I didn’t care either way. If I didn’t get the information from him, I was sure my AI would be able to answer my questions. I shrugged. “Which do you recommend?”
He smiled, likely happy that someone was asked for his opinion. “While you could read the information in the digital files or have your AI explain it, I would recommend at least letting me show you some of the basics.”
“Sure.”
Gesturing for me to come over to the large cube sitting along my wall next to the partially closed panel, he started. “This device translates the information from the game and the pod into something that can be efficiently transmitted over the internet. It also serves as a connection point for your AI, and as a backup power source for the pod. This backup power will last long enough for an hour of game time. That gives you enough time to find a place to log out safely or to finish any timed quest.”
Gesturing to the pod, he continued. “To open your pod, you simply can ask your AI to do so or tap this small indent here.” He tapped a tiny diamond-shaped indent on the lid. The lid lifted an inch before tilting out of the way. “Once inside, there are similar indents on either side. When closed, the device will scan the interior. If detects a user, it will initiate the system and pull you inside. Simple, right? Any questions?”
I smiled and shook my head. He was right. I could have read all of that in the documentation, but it was easier and faster for him to explain it. Now I wouldn’t have to go on a hunt for that small indent. “Thanks. Any advice on the game?”
“Not that I can share. Company policy and all. Anyway, have a good day and good luck.” He turned to leave. The other two guys had already left with all their trash and equipment. As he stood in the doorway he awkwardly spoke over his shoulder, “Oh, and the pod needs you to be nude or in a skinsuit for the system to work properly.”
He and I both knew I didn’t own a skinsuit. If I had bought one, it would have been delivered with the pod. So, with that awkward comment, he closed the door. Sitting at the table, I absentmindedly ate my cold food, mulling over his last remark.
He said that the system would work properly if I was nude, not that it wouldn’t work at all if I wore clothes. Maybe I could wear something thin in case there was a fire and I needed to evacuate. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened this month. Hell, we were probably due for another person burning their dinner.
Tossing the empty container into the bin, I made up my mind. I was going to play naked. I could always put something on if I found it too be awkward. “Can you monitor everything and let me know if something needs my attention?” I called to my AI.
“Sure.” It replied, “Are you going to go into the game for a short time or an extended period of time?”
“I don’t know yet. We will see how I feel after trying the game for a bit.” I said as I slid out of my clothes. I didn’t have anything thin, and most people were at work, so it was unlikely that the fire alarm would go off for at least a few hours.
The plastic lining of the pod was cold and stiff as I sat on its edge. Rotating around, I found that there were soft pads situated all over the place. Blending in with the plastic. Each pad was filled with a thick substance, holding me in place without putting pressure in any one spot.
Taking one last look out the gloomy window, I took in the view before pressing the button to close the lid. A soft hissing sound filled the pod as the lid clicked into place. I stared up at the glass roof of my coffin, watching as the company's logo fills the pane. Some text and a progress bar replaced it a moment later.
Initializing system.
Cold air blew across my body. Goosebumps rose on my arms and legs as a shiver raced down my spine. Over the course of a few seconds, the air warmed until it was comfortable. Slowly the shivers and bumps subsiding as the progress bar filled up.
Welcome to Ascent to Aetheria. Where anyone can climb to the top.
That was the last thing I read before my mind grew fuzzy. My eyes felt heavy as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. No matter how much I fought, sleep dragged me into its warm embrace.