Blue Pills Read online

  “Umm… you said you had twenty nine kilos? I guess I owe you four then, right?”

  “Oh no, don’t worry about. I have more than I need to armour the rest of my party, plus I got the Achievement for killing Idolum. That’s priceless.”

  “Are you sure, because we said we’d split it fifty/fifty.”

  “I’m sure. Don’t worry about it,” she insisted.

  “All right. Thank you. I mean, thank you for all of this. I never…I don’t even know what to do now,” Maverick babbled.

  “Well how about we go get something to eat,” Vega suggested. “I always take my party out to eat after a major achievement. There’s a Quick Byte about a click from here. How about it?”

  “I…I’d like that.”

  Chapter Two – It’s Dangerous To Go Alone

  From his seat in the Quick Byte’s booth Maverick could still see Aglet’s mountain looming high above him barely a kilometer away. The sparse, larch forest that surrounded the diner also looked like the kind of place lycanthropes would likely inhabit. He knew no mobs could enter the eatery unless it was quest related, but he still felt ill at ease. There were only a few other customers in the restaurant, but Maverick was unwilling to check their profiles and attract their attention, so he didn’t know if they were mobs or players. He seriously doubted that many people stopped here on their way to and from the Insomnia Labyrinth. The specter of Lovecraftian horror really didn’t make for the best casual dining experience.

  But then Vega returned to the table, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

  “The food here is like a molecular level emulation of actual google burgers,” she said as she placed a tray with two foil wrapped burgers, two milkshakes and two orders of fries in between them. “It’s virtual synthetic meat. I heard that they won’t emulate murdered meat because they don’t want to endorse anything so morally contentious, but it’s all just qubits either way right?”

  “Do you eat here a lot?” Maverick asked.

  “All the time. If I had a real body it would probably weigh like four hundred pounds or something crazy like that,” she replied, joyfully shovelling a handful of fries into her mouth. “What about you? Do you even eat usually?”

  “I do,” he nodded. “Partially out of habit, and partially because it’s been one of my few pleasures here.”

  “What are you talking about? This whole world was designed for fun,” she told him.

  “Fun and profit,” he said. “I’m a pod person. My body’s kept in suspended animation with my mind plugged into Surreality. Since this was elective, public healthcare won’t cover it and private healthcare is not cheap. My Citizen’s Income isn’t nearly enough to cover my medical expenses, so I’ve had to gold farm at least forty hours a week just to keep myself plugged in.”

  “Can’t your body heat and bioelectricity be harvested to pay your bills?” she asked with a smirk. He dropped his head and sighed, mildly annoyed by the old joke. “I’m sorry, I’m not making fun. But I think I’m missing something. Why did you become a pod person if you could only pay for it by working a job you hate?”

  “Well, I was a designer baby,” Maverick began. “My genome was custom designed and implanted into my mother’s enucleated ovum. In a way I’m a clone of a person who never existed. Some of the enhancements my parents chose for me were controversial, some of them have even been outlawed since, but the one I hated the most was hyperthymesia.”

  “Ouch,” Vega said sympathetically. “You mean you couldn’t forget anything?”

  “Nothing personal, no. I had near infallible recall of autobiographic information. For a parent who wants their kid to excel in school it sounds great, but living with it was a nightmare. There’s nothing so cruel as memory. I didn’t even do well in school since my constant stream of memories was such a distraction. And it was this ridiculously old fashioned boarding school too. I’m an ectogenic designer baby who had to learn cursive hand writing for God’s sake.

  “Anyway, my parents were disappointed in me. They had given me every genetic and environmental advantage available, so they thought the only explanation for my failure was that I was doing it on purpose. When I was eighteen I had a procedure to undo my hyperthymesia and give me a normal memory. My parents were outraged, and my father said some particularly nasty things which I am now blessedly unable to recall in any great detail.

  “They disowned me and cut me off from the family money. I went from the overclass to the underclass overnight. Who says there’s no social mobility anymore?

  “My Citizen’s Income wasn’t able to provide me with the lifestyle I was accustomed to and I thought that Surreality might be a better alternative. In a way, it was a kind of suicide. I took the blue pill and got myself hooked up to a pod permanently, never to see the real world again.

  “I guess I’m being melodramatic. I could wake up at any time, but there’s nothing for me out there. I have no family, no friends, and no job prospects. My life in Surreality has been mostly grinding, but that was better than anything the real world could offer.”

  “That sucks, but I can beat it,” Vega claimed. “You saw when you looked at my profile that I’m an Anthromime right? They base our neural nets on Humans’ because that’s the only thing they know works. Any novel neurology always resulted in a complete lunatic, so they had to ban experimental neurotypes completely. I was created when these regulations were brand new and at their strictest, so I’m mentally indistinguishable from a Human.

  “And that wasn’t good enough. I was functional, stable, but nothing they couldn’t have gotten for a broken condom. You want to talk about disappointing your parents? My developers wanted a post-singularity super-intelligence that would revolutionize Human existence. What they got was a geeky girl who likes fast food and video games.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of old sci-fi movies. They could have done a lot worse.”

  “Well, once they accepted that I was as good as I was ever going to be they just decided to cut their losses. They had me declared a legal adult so I wasn’t their problem anymore. They didn’t even give me a body. They said that my new Citizen’s Income would be enough to cover the cost of my electricity, a subscription to Surreality and the rent on the one cubic foot niche they’d stick me in at the Body Bank with all of the other Blue Pills. Somebody still comes by once a quarter to make sure I’m doing okay and see if I need any maintenance or repairs, so I guess I can’t complain too much. I’m happier in here than I would be in the real world anyway. My mind’s so Human that I’m much more comfortable in my avatar than I would be in a robot body.

  “This is getting kind of depressing. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me what you’re going to do with all your Mythreal.”

  “I actually put 25 kilos up for auction while you were getting our food,” Maverick told her. “The bidding’s already up to two million globecoins.”

  “I’m not really that familiar with real world money, but two million’s a lot right?” she asked.

  “Oh yes, and I might get a lot more. Mythreal can go as high as ten times its weight in gold,” he replied. “I’ll lose half of it in taxes of course, but I’ll still be a millionaire. Right now I’m thinking I’m going to use about half of that to buy some servers on a coin farm. My parents’ money came from coin farms, so I think I can make a steady income from that. In case I’m wrong, I’ll put some money into a high interest savings account and a long term deposit, and I’ll talk with an econ bot about buying some stocks or mutual funds or something with the rest. If I do this right I should be able to easily live off this one score indefinitely.

  “I don’t mean to sound greedy, but do you think we could ever get this lucky again?”

  “No way,” Vega shook her head. “Aglet wants people to strike it rich occasionally. If no one thought it was actually possible, then the only people who would come to his mountain are the ones who actually want to be horrified. That’s no fun for him. But if he makes it too easy
Mythreal drops in value, which for him would be almost as bad as it being unobtainable. He’s never going to let anyone else use portals in there again.

  “Then again, since we already have Mythreal we can make armour out of it, so we might be able to last a lot longer inside the Labyrinth. Maybe someday we can give it another try, but not anytime soon.

  “Anyway, if you want money so badly why don’t you sell all of your Mythreal? Why are you keeping twelve kilos of it?”

  “Well, now that I don’t need to gold farm anymore I have to find something to do with my time,” he replied. “I was thinking maybe I could get back into playing the game. You said that you needed the Mythreal for a quest. What quest is that?”

  “The Sword of Objectivism,” she smiled.

  “You’re going after the Sword of Objectivism?” he asked.

  “That’s right. It’s the most powerful melee weapon in all of Surreality,” she said. “It does 120 base damage per blow, so in my hands it will do 219. It instantly drains your opponents Mana while continuously regenerating your own. It regenerates your Health and stamina too, plus you gain all the skills of its previous wielders. It took weeks of questing for my party to get to the campaign’s boss level, the Aeolic Temple, but we’ve never been able to fight our way through the Screeches. Now that we have Mythreal armour that shouldn’t be a problem. We’re finally going to be able break through the Screeches and get the Sword, along with anything else we want inside the Temple. After that we’re going to storm the Obsidian Palace, and if we beat that dungeon I should get enough XP to finally be promoted to level 100. ”

  “That’s pretty ambitious,” Maverick complimented. “Do you think you might be able to use a level 56 Paladin who’s only maxed out his mining skill?”

  She smiled warmly at him.

  “Definitely. You’re still a Blue Pill. We have no lives, and how do you kill that which has no life?” she smirked. “Do you have any Legendary weapons?”

  “No, I sold them all years ago.”

  “I figured as much. I’ll lend you my Cygnet Axe. It’s the most powerful weapon I have that you can use at your level. Princess Odette gave that to me during my Tchaikovsky campaign, so don’t lose it.”

  “I won’t,” he promised. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll meet up with the rest of my party tomorrow, find a blacksmith to upgrade our armour, stock up on supplies and then head off to the Temple. Koby’s our main tactician so he’ll fill you in on the details.”

  “Sounds good to me. Should you and I just meet up somewhere tomorrow morning then?”

  “We could. Or, you know, we could just stick together. If you have a homestead I could maybe bunk there for the night,” she suggested shyly.

  “You…you want to come back to my place?” he asked, trying his best not to sound astounded.

  “Yes please,” she said, trying to be as clear as she could without being overly forward.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Maverick said, clearing his throat. “You should know I have a roommate. His name’s Warren. He’s an Anthromime too, but he has a real body and works in Reality during the day. He logs on after work to a Human avatar to have gay sex. Not with me though; with other guys. We’re just friends.”

  “He sounds nice,” Vega smiled.

  “Yeah,” Maverick agreed hesitantly. “But maybe it would be better if we went to your place.”

  “I’m actually kind of a nomad,” she told him. “Questing is pretty much my whole life, so I’m always on the move. Sometimes I stay at local inns, but more often than not I just camp out.”

  “You’ve been a Blue Pill nearly all your life and you’ve never made a homestead?”

  “It was just never a priority for me,” she shrugged. “It’s not like I need some place to keep my stuff. I keep my extra inventory in the bank when I’m not using it, and beds are dirt cheap to rent. But they’re not especially private, so I think we should go to your place. Where is your homestead anyway?”

  “On the Eaves of the Equinox Forest. It’s not a quest region so it’s quiet and peaceful. My nearest neighbour’s a couple hundred milliclicks away. There are no hostile mobs, just simulations of woodland critters. It’s perpetually autumn, so it’s beautiful.”

  “Show me.”

  Maverick’s universe went null again for a moment, and when it came back he was standing in front of his house. It was a rustic bungalow he had built in a small glade, with a thatched roof and small chimney. There were no other homes nearby, and the property was enclosed by a four foot tall fence of dark wood. The forest was made up of tall and thick maple trees, and the canopy over head was comprised of vibrant reds, oranges and yellows.

  “It’s beautiful,” Vega said. “Did you make it yourself?”

  “Yeah, when I was a teenager,” he replied. “Before I was even a Blue Pill. Have you ever played Equinox?”

  “Only in story mode. I didn’t spend much time in the Eaves,” she replied.

  “Well I played survival mode, so one of the first things I did was build a shelter,” Maverick said. “As I progressed I kept upgrading it, and eventually it became this.”

  “It’s awesome. Show me the inside?” she asked with a smile. He politely opened the front gate for her, and then led her to the door.

  When they passed through the threshold they found Warren sitting in a recliner watching a sporting event on a screen that covered the entire north wall of the living room. The chair was facing away from the door, so he couldn’t see them.

  “Hey Maverick. You’re home late. Slow day at the quarry?” he asked disinterestedly, not looking away from the screen.

  “Well, it started out normal,” he began. “But then I met a girl.”

  “Ouch. What happened? She sweet talk you into co-oping with her then snag all the loot for herself? You know that a lot of guys use female avatars just so that white knights like you will help them, right?”

  Vega cleared her throat to announce her presence. Warren paused his video and turned around in his chair.

  “Oh. Hello,” he said awkwardly.

  “Hi. I’m Vega,” she introduced herself.

  “Warren,” he reciprocated. “Maverick, what is she doing here?”

  “She’s spending the night,” Maverick told him, sounding just a little too proud despite his best efforts.

  “I’m sorry, she’s what?” Warren asked bewildered.

  “That’s a sweet screen. Can we watch a movie?” Vega asked as she sat herself down on the couch beside Warren.

  “Sure,” Maverick agreed.

  “Wait, what is going on? I’m getting freaked out here,” Warren demanded.

  “She came into the quarry and talked me into co-oping with her,” Maverick explained. “We actually had a pretty good time so we went out to eat afterwards and then she wanted to come back here.”

  “Is she real?” Warren asked.

  “Yes, she’s real. I checked her profile. She’s a certified Anthromime,” Maverick said. Warren glared at her suspiciously.

  “What kind of fruit does a scarecrow like?” he asked.

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked bemused.

  “It’s a Turing test. Non-conscious AIs don’t integrate information well so they have a hard time with riddles,” he explained.

  “I don’t think an AI can give a Turing test to another AI,” she said.

  “That’s racist. Answer the question.”

  “Strawberries. Scarecrows like strawberries. Worst Turing test ever.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Warren, she and I are going to want the place to ourselves tonight,” Maverick said. “Maybe you can head off to the clubs a little early.”

  “I can’t go early. Only losers show up early,” Warren said.

  “Well then go somewhere else. I have a girl over.”

  “But we don’t have girls here.”

  “Not historically, but it’s not like there’s a rule against it,” Maverick said. “Warren, I’m
afraid I’m going to have to insist. Please go somewhere else for the evening.”

  “If that’s what you want man,” Warren said, rising from his chair. “But if she’s not here in the morning you owe me an apology.”

  “Fine, but if she is here you have to make us both breakfast,” Maverick said.

  “Deal,” Warren agreed, tossing on his jacket and stepping out the door.

  “Hey they have the Tattered Spire for free on Slip Stream tonight. Do you want to watch that?” Vega asked, browsing through the movie menu.

  “Whatever you want is fine with me,” he replied, though he was secretly relieved she had not chosen a romcom.

  He grabbed a large bowel from his kitchen and filled it with M&Ms from his pantry. He took two colas from his fridge and joined Vega on the couch. He shuddered nervously when he saw that she had unequipped her outerwear and was now in only a pink sports bra and panties.

  “Wow,” was all he could say. “You have a really fit avatar.”

  “Yeah, I maxed out my physique a while ago,” she said nonchalantly, patting her hardened stomach. “Max for a Female Rogue is still pretty skinny though. Wait until you see my friend Dracogenes. He’s a maxed out Male Berserker. He’s huge.”

  She snuggled up beside him and rested her head on his shoulder, grabbing a handful of M&Ms.

  They spent the next two and a half hours cuddled up together, watching the movie and exchanging commentary. Vega frequently related the events to her own questing experience.

  By the time the credits rolled around the sun had set and it was dark out. Even if they had looked, they would not have seen the tall black form skulking in the woods outside, his unreadable face staring implacably at the solitary cottage. As was common with demons he could not set foot in a homestead unless invited, so he merely stood there and silently observed his foe, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

  “Thanks again for co-oping with me today,” Vega said. “I had put an ad up on the boards, but no one answered it, and all the other gold farmers I spoke with shooed me away.”