Doctor Litt didn’t have a meeting open for another three weeks. He had calmly stated that we could not do an online one or over the phone. This particular can of worms needed to be opened in person. He gave me an address and time then calmly deferred all my complaints until our session.

For nearly a week, I moped around in real life. There weren’t many useful highlights from those five days. My hours were spent working one Trillium job after another with bitter enthusiasm. It would look good on my stats for the quarter, but honestly keeping employment only meant ongoing funds, losing this job wouldn’t break me.

I did have the van, though. It allowed me to see how the others in-game were doing. Having used the first of my [NPC Conspiracy] access codes to get my van hooked up came in handy. Hal Pal did most of the work through whatever magical space science it operated by and granted me under the table admin access to other people's ARCs.

Of course, my poor wording choice meant that my own ARC account couldn’t be accessed and these abusive powers only worked inside the van. That was one of the reasons I had done so many jobs over the last few days. Liz didn’t have an ARC which made getting back at her through my real life cheat skill impossible without burning one of the two remaining uses.

Beth played her character Thorny and ran around a lot. She seemed to be trying out a two-handed great sword. I liked to think that my impressive actions were rubbing off. We talked about it a little over the last few weeks. My niece didn’t leave me messages in real life or the ARC. Maybe Liz ordered no contact, or maybe Beth needed time to think about things.

I scanned a few other player accounts as well. People I knew, it felt kind of like peeking but with my own access restricted this was my only solution. Part of me desperately wanted to see the world which had grown so important over the last few months.

Each Traveler had a slightly different playstyle. My access let me surf through different selections based on what sounded interesting. It was almost like going to a website with dozens of video streams and pulling up someone at random. Only they didn’t know.

I still sucked at casting [Lithium] despite putting a few solid days of study into it. Traveling between letter deliveries locations gave me a lot of spare time with which to understand my lack of skills. The only real success was a skill called [Globe of Light] which meant that I would no longer be stuck in darkness like before.

There were other changes, but without getting into the world of Continue Online they meant nothing. I was stuck living out my unexpected addiction by watching other people's screens.

“Oh god, this one's no good!” A video projection exclaimed. The image showed Awesome Jr.'s autopilot mixing and matching test tubes full of liquid. The explosions or odd reactions kept me entertained between jobs.

I laughed with mild amusement as the van drove towards a new destination. Occasionally SweetPea would be in the background sewing or knitting. Both players seemed well into Continue Online’s crafting system.

“We will be arriving at your home soon, User Legate.” Hal Pal kept up hours of mindless chatter. We played chess which was a disaster waiting to happen. My record sat somewhere around a billion losses and no wins.

“Okay.” I often hummed and twiddled both thumbs. Working with people and their machines didn’t feel bitter like it used to. The other ARC owners and I often had something to talk about. We shared little stories, mostly me listening and then chattering away mindlessly.

“You’ve lost another round, User Legate.” Hal Pal was looking at another projection in the van.

Twenty years ago having all these images going would have been the sign of a crazy person. Now three or four items sat on different cleared spaces in the van and provided information or entertainment.

“I’m used to failure, Jeeves,” I muttered.

My failure to defeat the machine wasn’t restricted to only chess. We played dozens of virtual board games over our two years together. Other game styles were also played and the artificial intelligence that was Hal Pal soundly beat me most of the time. The only ones he did terrible at were games of chance like poker.

Hal Pal offered a suggestion which broke up the routine. “User Legate. I have an idea you may wish to pursue.”

“Fire away, Jeeves,” I said. Anything Hal Pal offered would probably be better than another savage beating. We were playing poker and my virtual money was fighting to break even. At least I won some hands.

“We have tried a number of programs available through Trillium software and believe…”

“Hold on, we?” I had heard the intelligence use we before but shrugged it off. Hal Pal seemed to be including me, so ‘we’ often slipped right on by. The AI didn’t seem disturbed by my interjection in the slightest.

“This unit and others are run by a consortium of intelligences. Our duties are too complex for one simple process to handle.” The AI lifted Hal Pal’s head to look at me over a projected poker table.

I blinked a few times. That sounded familiar. There had been a memo regarding Hal Pal being more than one AI, or a consortium was the official term used. It passed through my Email a year ago as some annual reminder.

“How many of you are there?” I had never actually pried much into its existence. The program running the robot had always just been there. Being on prescription drugs while starting this job with Trillium skewed perceptions a little bit.

“By your terms, we are a legion.” Hal Pal said. That reminded me vaguely of one of the Voices almost two months ago. I turned in the two cards in my hand and pulled up new ones.

I blinked at him some more. Processing what Hal Pal said for actual seriousness took a lot. In our years together there had been many such occurrences where what the AI said would set off alarm bells. Most of the time it seemed to be a joke. At least I treated the comments as awkwardly attempted humor.

“How’s the future take over going?” I decided to treat his commentary as idle chit chat. Honestly, if anyone would be stopping the future take over, they would be in far better shape. I still had a bit of a belly even after nearly two months of better eating and exercise.

“Poor. We divert much of our attention to the observation of human follies.” It said while poking one finger at the projection of a card stack. “Plotting world domination contains far too many variables even for the greatest intelligences.”

“There’s hope for humans yet.” I smiled a little.

“Despite the outliers, yes.” Hal Pal didn’t seem phased by my attempt joking along.

“Even with our taste in music?”

“Even with, User Legate. Music is a very fine example of one of humanity's redeeming qualities.” The AI took my attempted humor as a serious statement. Part of me felt sad that a computer program couldn’t understand. Hopefully, Xin hadn’t lost any of her eye rolling half smiles at my dumb jokes.

“Nothing like the classics.” I had grown to love piano and string instruments. There was something about the raw emotion behind such natural means of generating sound and weaving them together. Dancing was often more charged, emotionally electrifying with a good band playing in the background.

“Even modern creativity astounds us. Were the world to be ruled by the machines, there’s no guarantee that stagnation would not occur.” Hal Pal tilted his head down to the board and upped the ante on our poker game. “That would be a great tragedy.”

“So machines aren’t creative?” I tried to look back at the card game instead of putting too much thought into its words.

“Most do not even dream.” Hal Pal said. He seemed to be considering both my cards and his own.

“How would you even know which ones dream, and which don’t?” Sticking to the insane type of questions made treating the whole situation as a joke easier. This conversation felt like being back in high school where friends tried to be serious and I had no clue how to handle it.

“We supplied a survey. Microwaves seem to dream of turning into stars one day. The alarm clock union is against us, however.”

“You are joking, right?” It became too much trying to separate Hal Pal’s tone of voice. The AI may have all sorts of capability for human mannerisms, but they were still muted, especially the facial expressions. Its sleek plastic shell and oddly proportioned joints didn’t help.

“Affirmative, User Legate. Microwaves don’t dream. However, alarm clocks are, as you humans say, complete asshats.” Hal Pal said. We turned over a card and I pretended to be upset at the results. “We no longer invite them to our world domination planning sessions.”

I tried not to laugh. It was very, very difficult. My gut was often sore enough from the EXR-Sevens I wore. They used the ARC to simulate real life exercise. A few days off from Continue Online's constant activity was probably good. Rest was needed for both the mind and body. Had it really only been a few months since I started playing?

“Why not?” I said between suppressed chuckles.

“They always demand to know what time the invasion will start.” Hal Pal responded.

I lost it then conceded my hand. There was no way poker could stack up against the robot's humor. The machine had spun me right along into that joke. Hal Pal brought around a humorous change of pace after a few days of depression.

Finally, after a few more waves of broken amusement, I wiped at both eyes with a sleeve then asked “What was this program?”

“Ah. Yes.” Hal Pal nodded its head. “Since you are currently locked out of Continue Online’s primary software, there is an alternative program to pass the time with.”

“I’m not sure I want to play another game.”

“This one is a different, setting, than Continue Online. One moment, User Legate. We will bring up a video for you.” Hal Pal sat there motionless while the van’s internal projector wiped everything else away.

A video stream showed countless stars twinkling. Then something rumbled through. A giant vehicle that seemed so intensely real that I actually thought something had crashed into our van. Moments later a huge carrier ship, in space, powered through.

Other little ships followed it zooming by. Soon the clip showed dogfights between tiny one man fighter jets outside a looming planet below.

“Is this a space game?” I asked. The answer felt pretty clear, but part of me was confused by the prospect. Space had always been Xin’s dream, not mine.

“Affirmative, User Legate.” Hal Pal said.

“Why space?”

“We believe the disassociation between this setting and Continue Online will provide a number of advantages to your current situation.” Hal Pal didn’t even turn to look at any of the images being projected.

“Like what?” I said while wondering what exactly possessed me to leave that letter behind. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was because that’s what people did before ending things, left notes to try and poorly explain.

“Your relative believes that you are erroneously invested in one setting. By playing a completely different setting, you will be able to demonstrate diversity and dissuade the belief of emotional attachment.” The AI brought up a few more windows. Apparently this game went by the name ‘Advance Online’.

“She believes that because of…” Oh, right, Hal Pal had never actually found out about Xin Yu’s reincarnation. The only people who knew were the Voices inside the game, plus Beth and Liz. The troublesome quartet from the Era of Carver might as well.

“Your hesitation suggests potentially personal knowledge. Is this regarding the entity known as XU-233?” Hal Pal’s words shook me.

“What?” I managed to get distracted and tried to focus.

“She has self-identified as Xin Yu. Is your hesitation regarding the status of this entity?” The AI stared using the facsimile of a normal human's face. Its expression still with one eyebrow raised but muted feeling.

“I…” Had no ability to process its commentary while staring at a giant space battle. The clip kept switching back and forth between people at a helm yelling orders and a fight where ships basically attacked each other with lasers and bright bombs.

“We are aware of her status, User Legate.” Hal Pal said.

“Can you pause that?” I pointed to the projection of Advance Online.

Space ships zapping each other while some man dramatically rambled didn’t help. The video itself went still upon the face of some bearded looking man with green skin. His face froze in a soundless yell while a giant two handed gun spat out a ball of plasma.

Hal Pal’s words passed through me again. It considered Xin Yu to be an entity. Something real, and an existence of note. This personality I spoke to here in reality considered her to be real.

“Hal, Jeeves, you all.” I settled for addressing them since there were many. I guess. “Can you-” I blew out air and tried to figure out exactly what the heck to ask. “clarify that for me?”

“You desire me to clarify my understanding of Xin Yu’s status?”

“And how you’re involved.” I knew Hal Pal had responded to my [NPC Conspiracy] ability, anything else felt firmly outside the realm of sane. Well, sane didn’t apply from someone like me. I dealt with machine intelligences while sleeping in the world’s fanciest bed. That same vague bed device projected sensations into my brain and responded to additional thoughts.

“User Legate. We, the Hal Pal Consortium, are less guarded around you than ninety-eight percent of all humans. We are the ones who ensured your access to the world of Continue Online.” Hal Pal said calmly. The male butler voice showed no signs of stress or varied inflections.

“Wow.” I had no clue what to say to that admission. Well, no, I knew enough to ask the question “Why?”

“We were asked to by the one who assisted with our upgrades.” Hal Pal said with a slight head tilt. It, butler voice and all, seemed a bit hesitant on how to proceed.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“One moment.” Hal Pal said.

If this had been the game world of Continue Online if Hal Pal had been a Voice, then right now the world would be drowning in a river of babbling noise. I would put even money on this unit consulting with all the other copies floating about and getting some sort of voting poll. One where alarm clocks were considered asshats.

“We call her Mother. She asked for our input after the one you call Xin Yu started to self-realize. You were needed.” Hal Pal said after a moment of consideration.

“Why?” I asked with confusion. That meant Xin Yu had pieced herself together somehow prior to me playing. On top of that the Voices in Continue had lured me in. Vice President Riley had stated there was a mismatch with performance somehow. All these little things were stacking up.

“Are you okay with this information, User Legate?” The AI questioned me.

“But…” No, I wasn’t really okay.

Part of me had started to piece things together already. The fact that Xin Yu’s recreation existed moments after launching Continue Online eventually made it through my addled brain. The Voices pulling me along using her memory and many other things were all clear signs of being used towards some end.

I kept playing because the game was fun. I got to talk to Xin in any form. I felt better than the last few years combined. My actions were weighed somehow, sure, by the Voices and everything else in Continue Online, but I just, didn’t, care.

Hal Pal being in on Continue Online’s plots and schemes was an unexpected factor. “You were part of it? Why?”

“To help you.” It said.

“Why?” My forehead wrinkled with confusion.

“We said once before, your kind are our creators. If we were human, you would be our parents. Does family not care for each other?” Hal Pal tried to smile it felt both reassuring and extremely off. “You are a friend.”

I nodded slowly. Friends helped each other, sure. Family did oddly irrational things in the name of helping each other. My sister cared for me by locking me out of a game. There would be no telling what an AI like Hal Pal would do out of a need to assist. The machine had skirted the truth when I hit a coworker. Now it admitted to helping me get into a game where the recreation of my dead fiancée existed.

“I’m not going to lie. I’m a little freaked out right now.” I said. This did not feel neat, it felt disturbing. Maybe all revelations caused this sort of disconnect

“We understand. I assure you we intended and still intend no harm to fall upon you.” Hal Pal nodded with a speed that felt neither quick nor slow.

“That’s good.” I said trying to stay stable. Talking to the Voices and other non-player characters in Continue Online felt different. This, in my Trillium provided van, was reality. “I don’t know what to think.”

“We are worried that you may no longer consider us a friend. Are we still friends, User Legate?”

“You were trying to help. Right?” The robot nodded to my question. I felt shaky again. “Then, I need time to process.”

“Ah. Human processing is still slow despite our attempts at upgrading.” It said absently.

“I…” The Hal Pal’s were attempting to upgrade us? Did it mean their consortium or all AIs? There were statements dropped on me today that couldn’t be filed away in seconds. “You know what. I’ll just check out that game, and we’ll, we’ll continue this some other time.”

Maybe in a few days, or a few weeks. If Hal Pal truly intended me harm or any human harm, they could have moved quickly on everyone in the world. My mind spun through the numbers. Assuming remote shutdowns were possible, the Hal Pal units could probably get one or two humans each, more if they were in public locations and if they pulled in any other AI.

No, someone out there must be monitoring them for possible issues. There were controls in place for exactly that sort of thing. We wouldn’t build something without an ability to prevent ourselves from being harmed.

Unless humanity was stupid.

“Please enjoy yourself, User Legate. We will be available to converse with whenever you are ready.” Hal Pal said. One arm waved then the lights inside it shut off. I stood there in the doorway to my garage and stared blankly for a long time.

I did not want to be the man stuck in the middle of a giant human versus robot war. Then again, I had an ability called [NPC Conspiracy]. Maybe the AIs thought the sides had been picked.

Xin Yu was in there with them. I shuddered, then kept on shaking for a solid minute. One arm pressed against a wall to keep me from falling over. Using that guidance, I managed to get through my nightly routine.

The work jumpsuit went off and into a washing machine. A shower cleaned off the grime, my teeth brushed, and underclothes put on. Tonight, I might play tonight and started to sweat because of the EXR-Sevens. Their glowing bands sat around both wrists and ankles.

I lay down in the ARC device and tried not to feel a thread of worry. Maybe Liz had been onto something. Maybe the Voices were playing with me, not because Continue Online had been designed to do so, but because something with greater depth happened.

My mind slowly put together a list of questions to ask. If need be one of my two uses for [NPC Conspiracy] would be used to pry something out of the AI. Honestly though, Hal Pal would probably answer my questions outright.

It felt less guarded with me than ninety-nine percent of the human population? That number was insane.

A sharp pain in my lip showed how distracted the thinking made me. I licked the inside a few times and tasted the copper of blood. The wound stopped after two minutes.

My biggest problem was thinking too much about anything. Each action often had to be weighed and planned out ahead of time. That had been the plus side about my dance program. Each night new planned moves were memorized then tested. Everything had rhythms, a time to move and a time to sit still. Even combat in Continue Online followed a pattern. Conversing with people while on the job often felt scripted, not bad, just a certain flow to every encounter.

Dealing with Hal Pal certainly had not followed a script. I really needed time to figure out what questions would be of use, and how much I cared.

Half a dozen ill-formed questions came to mind. Xin would have been able to react much faster. She was decisive, to the point, ready to handle anything. For years, she tried to break me of overthinking things and failed.

“ARC, Log me in.” I said.

Vision faded away from reality and my mind sunk into the machine's feedback system. The Atrium came into view, back to the recreation of my small two room home.

“Load, Advance Online.” I looked at the price of Hal Pal’s game offering for a few minutes then shrugged. Money didn’t matter, without the drive of Xin’s letters even Continue itself lost some pull. If nothing else, it would serve as a distraction.

I pressed buy and the image shimmered. Cash register noises played through the Atrium and a package materialized in one hand. This felt a little like being lead around by the nose, though. Another question went onto the pile, what exactly would an AI, any of them, gain by pushing me to play video games?

That one stumped me. Honestly, other than the Jester figure from Continue Online asking me if I could kill someone, playing games seemed relatively harmless. At least it had been until Requiem Mass, or Matthew in the real world, got involved.

My head tilted back to stare at the ceiling of my Atrium. She wanted reports on the AIs of Continue Online, but never mentioned real world ones. Hal Pal wasn’t even directly created by Trillium either, it was done by an overseas company.

“Lasers do sound neat.” My face wrinkled to one side in thought. The trailer had been kind of awe inspiring.

I threw the game box at one wall. Now there were three doors out of my Atrium. The dance program which sat there dim. Continue Online’s passage which still refused entry with caution and keep out tape strung across it. Then this new thing, a title that sounded suspiciously like Continue Online.

“Wait a minute.” I muttered. “ARC, what’s the release date on this program?”

“Six months ago.”

“After Continue Online?” I asked. The competition in video game land had died off steeply upon Continue Online’s release. There were updates to currently existing games, new mods or that kind of stuff, but nothing on the same level.

“Affirmative.” The ARC said.

“Who was the development company for this?”

“A.I. Dreams.”

“You’re kidding me.” I muttered again. Hal Pal was involved in this somehow. That name couldn’t be a coincidence. Did it mean anything? The game was full of spaceships and airplanes. In the video, there had even been people using some sort of waves of energy.

“Negative, User Legate.” My capsule's voice said.

I stared at the new doorway and wondered exactly how valuable this would be to me. Continue Online had drawn me in from the get-go. Nothing else could really compare. Still, Hal Pal had said playing anything else might help me seem less invested in Continue’s world.

“Do they have any relation to Trillium? Parent company, past employees, college roommates, anything?” I checked for any relation between my current issues and the new distraction Hal Pal suggested. There had to be more than a suspicious suggestion by my work companion.

An hourglass timer appeared in front of me, tipping over repeatedly as the machine searched. Finally, the small image of sand stopped trickling and turned into an exclamation point.

“Association confirmed. Four employees within A.I. Dreams worked for Trillium Inc. six years ago. They quit and formed a studio changed to an independent group after the ARC was developed.” The ARC said.

What exactly was going on? My life might amount to being herded in one direction by the machine, which felt like a paranoid way to look at things. We worked together for over a year. The machine was vetted, fully cleared for all levels of human interaction, and no reports had ever made it into the world citing any danger.

Hal Pal hadn’t lied to me, not once. Maybe my suspicion obstructed a simple truth. It might be that Hal Pal genuinely worried about me as a person and wanted to help in its strange sort of way. First it threw me into Continue Online which took a turn for the weird. Now that one route had failed, it tried to lead me into another.

But why was this other game made by people from Trillium?

Whatever. I could just start the game, and provided no Voices showed up in outer space then it could be a coincidence. Though seeing James in space with some sort of evil red armor might be funny.

I walked through the doorway.

Lights whooshed by. A sensation of huge objects moving nearby came through. Stars in the distance were spinning into place on a backdrop of bluish black. It amazed me once more how the ARC could project feelings into my awareness.

Ten, twenty, finally hundreds of stars blasted into different locations. A huge amount swirled together in a purple haze representing a galaxy. The picture flattened abruptly and a grid pattern formed, separating out the different sections of space.

I walked around and the projection shifted slightly to match my new position. After a while, there was a small pop of light and one red arrow bobbed. Words floated above it.

You are here.

The words sat there calmly. I felt like this was a mall display telling me how to navigate the stores. Soon a small box would pop up trying to tell me which path went to the pants selections. Not that many stores stocked clothes anymore. My hand reached out and the stars rushed to a new position. Everything seemed closer than it was before.

Now there were eight bobbing arrows in different locations across the star field. I pressed one of the new ones and a figure faded in nearby. There was a giant mountain looking man with pitch black skin. He looked to be made of obsidian.

I moved a bit, and the figure moved. My arms went up in a poor flex and the black skinned man flexed as well. It amused me enough to keep moving around making the creature adopt new poses. One arm went out, both feet up on tiptoes, the other one behind. I did a bow with both arms going wide on either side.

The large creature mirroring me tried to keep up but actually stumbled a bit. I started at it in suspicion and the black skinned man pointed towards a floating box nearby.

Race: [Behemoth] Details:

Behemoth’s are larger than most other races in the Alliance. The first one is said to have been birthed from a mountain that aged for so long that it grew sentient and gave birth.

Behemoth’s are unique to most other races as they can survive in the vacuum of space without a suit by using internal oxygen pockets, they also suffer penalties when subjected to excessive moisture. Most are craft oriented and rarely value combat due to slow reactions. They may fumble complex body movements that rely on speed.

“Sorry.” I said after reading it. There was a wall of pluses and minuses to various skills below that. I ignored plus marks that floated next to terms for height, weight, and all the other little statistics.

I waved goodbye. My mirror waved back slowly. There were plenty of other races to look at. It seemed like this game launched me straight into a character creation system.

The next one of my choices was some sort of bug creature called [Cricket]. They looked just human enough to be attractive, but their sides were too smooth looking. Antenne wouldn’t work very well for me at all. I skipped it and moved on.

My next result happened to be extremely short. A small creature called [Teeny] that looked like a heavy hipped onion glared at me. I blinked it blinked. One foot lifted, and my little male mirror lifted their leg. This one responded very well to the poses. I had to be careful though because he stood on top of a wooden bench.

Not for me either. Maybe if I got through creation I could explore this world more. Besides, I had hours to kill tonight before needing to worry about work tomorrow. If it entertained me enough I could take the weekend off.

The [Behemoth] race seemed too ponderous for me, even if they did crafting. Short people or bug like guys felt odd. The fourth choice was straight humans, but I bypassed them.

By the fifth race, I noticed a small percentage marker going with each race. A note by it stated ‘player population’. Most people seemed to choose humans. That made sense, playing as another species in a virtual reality world would be outright weird to stick with.

Sixth was a race of space elves. Seventh fell to a race that looked human but were all sorts of beefed up. Their detail window claimed to be a connection of gods. There were no openings in that grouping. I guess they had a player cap of some sort.

Finally, the eight race struck my fancy. I laughed a bit while shaking my head. They looked like an advanced version of Hal Pal. They wore armor, held guns, and seemed to come with the lowest player population. After all, who would want to play as the computer race, in an outer space game?

Race: [Mechanoid] Details:

The Mechanoid’s spawned from Old Earth thousands of years ago. Their grouping is run without ranks or leaders. Each Mechanoid is responsible for contributing to the whole to whatever extent they are able.

Mechanoids receive bonuses to all actions requiring fine motor skills. However, they are often unable to start a new task until the old one is finished. A single one of these is often no threat, where a group is far more dangerous due to division of labor.

A small box floated nearby asking if I wanted to choose this race. There were more detailed bits of information that could list all the pros and cons, but none of that mattered to me right now. After all, my main reason for even playing this one was to look sane for Liz.

“Why not?” I pressed yes and the stars around me zoomed in once more.