Андреа Хёст - The Starfighter Invitation

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The only thing bigger than the world’s first full virtual reality game
is the mystery surrounding its origins. Who is behind Ryzonart Games?
How was such a huge advance in technology achieved?
Taia de Haas loves having her own virtual spaceship, and wants nothing
more than to visit every planet in the solar system. But she cannot
ignore the question of whether such a magnificent gift comes with
strings attached. Is the game a trick, a trap, a subtle invasion? Or an
opportunity to step up and fight for her own planet?
Caught in a tangle of riddles and lies, Taia can’t resist trying to win
answers from Ryzonart’s mysterious administrators. But will finding the
truth cost her the Singularity Game?

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[[Your door-opening attempts were splendidly ineffectual.]]

" Was that fiction or Synergis history? "

[[No cats, to my knowledge, have ever troubled themselves to such an extent.]] The Link brought me Dio’s brief splutter of strange laughter. [[The Challenge wasn’t based on Synergis history, no. Did you enjoy it?]]

" Totally different from what I expected ," I admitted. " But, yes, I did, even though I wasn’t sure I was doing what was expected. Why was it so…so instructionless? And what would have happened if I’d just ignored the captured humans and gone hunting rabbits? "

[[Catching a rabbit would also count as a successful conclusion, although the reward would be smaller. If you look at the Challenge categories, you’ll see Challenges marked Variable Goals . These present evolving goals dependent on your actions. Challenges with specific goals often state the goal in their description.]]

I’d successfully followed my latest arrow all the way back to where I’d started, even figuring out how to open the door, and walked into the tube of my main cabin. A distinct feeling of homecoming seemed excessive for such a short acquaintance.

Succeeding in figuring out how to pull my boots off, I plopped into the nearest seat, and looked around.

"Is this my Snug, or our Snug?"

[[Yours. If I passed you off to a city administrator for being too dull or lazy, you would keep the Snug. Since you’re my Bio, however, I have full access to the Snug’s systems. Think of me as your navigator. While Bios can Skip without any assistance, they’re terrible at aiming, and so when you start travelling, I will be pointing the way.]]

I wondered how much impact that would have on Dream Speed’s apparent alternate goal of stealing a ship and returning to my enclave. But perhaps Cycogs exaggerated how much they were needed for navigation. It wouldn’t do to take everything Dio said at face value.

In either case, I needed to get stronger just to get a functioning ship. The question of which star would be my destination could come later.

"Right," I said. "Let’s get me Rank One now."

* * *

Trial Successful.

Rank One Achieved.

Reward:

[Tier 1 Tools Pattern]

[Tier 1 Consumable Pattern]

There was no accompanying system-wide announcement, but I hadn’t expected that. It was hours since the first player had ranked, and if the game had announced everyone since, it would have been a constant blare.

"How many people have reached Rank One, Dio?" I asked, sinking down to the floor, my back propped against the nearest bench as I panted. Making the blue mist fill in the shapes Dio projected had taken a lot of energy. But I’d done it!

[[Twenty-seven thousand, four hundred and fifty-seven, including you.]]

"And I’ve been playing for, what, just over ten hours? Which means it’s only been two hours and a bit in the real world since the game was unlocked?"

[[There’s clock commands in your [Status] menu if you feel a need for details.]]

I eyed the glowing mote that was not real, but technically was in charge of Leveret .

"I didn’t expect that time differential thing to pan out. It shouldn’t work. I mean, I always accepted the way guided dream games seem to go on for much longer than the time spent asleep because dreams are vague things, and perceptions can be distorted. But this is…how many people have managed to log on in the few hours this thing has been up?"

[[A little over two million.]]

Since it was the weekend, and people had been hanging out for the preload, the figure didn’t completely surprise me, but it was still an impressive achievement for a non-franchise game that had unlocked four days early, without any kind of announcement, and in the teeth of press that had concluded the game was a blatant hoax. Two brief demos and the sheer possibility of true VR had turned this into an Event game launch.

And those numbers were going to be nothing, once players started confirming that DS was everything we could want it to be, and more. I shivered a little as I considered a world of effortless virtual body-hopping—for those that could afford a GDG cowl and a subscription.

But I tend toward scepticism, and even sitting there in the game talking to my own personal improbability, I couldn’t quite accept what was happening.

"The perception of extended time is one thing," I said. "But people’s minds aren’t recordings you can fast forward. How is it possible to have two million people all thinking at five times the rate they usually do?"

[[You’ve never heard of overclocking? I hope you’re sitting somewhere cool, out there in the real world. Running wetware like yours at this pace means overheating is inevitable.]]

"Because GDG cowls have suddenly gained the ability to overclock human brains?"

[[The transmission pulse of those cowls could do some interesting things, with a few tweaks. But, yes, you’re right, it’s nothing to do with the cowls. It’s because Dream Speed is being run on quantum computers. You’ll notice that logging in and out involves a distinct transition as you uncouple from the quantum field.]]

Dio’s tone told me just how seriously I should take this suggestion, but I still said: "A quantum computer is just a computer that uses non-binary logic. They’re not time-distorting magic boxes."

[[Perhaps you really have been in here for ten hours?]]

"I’m fairly sure that little fact would have spread through the players by now."

My tone was dismissive, but I checked my email anyway, and saw that Amelia had replied to arrange a guild meet-up. No dramatic warnings accompanied her brief note.

I shook my head at Dio as te floated about the centre of my Snug. "Does it cause any conflict for you, to be discussing the real world? Will you melt down into an existential crisis?"

[[No, I’m perfectly happy to indulge your fantasies of this existence outside The Synergis.]]

Dio really was failing to match any of my AI expectations. But then, Cycogs weren’t technically AI. It was more likely I was having a conversation with a person pretending to be a floating mote of light. But that explanation only worked if you discounted the millions of conversations apparently underway right now.

[[I’ve remembered the correct reason,]] Dio continued. [[The time difference comes about because your mind has been transported to the far future. The game allows players to travel to The Synergis in spirit, if not body, and when you log out the game transfers you back, only a short time after you left.]]

"That seems…exceedingly unlikely. Why bother?"

[[Perhaps The Synergis ran out of Bios? Yes, yes. In an unfortunate toffee manufacturing accident, all our Bios died or ran away, so we’re importing a new set who don’t know how scared they should be. Yes, I like that one. I think I’ll spread it about.]]

"Toffee manufacturing, huh? So you’re recruiting for the sugar mines?"

A burst of Dio’s synthesiser-laughter was the only response, and I couldn’t help but smile in return. Dio—whatever was behind that ball of light—was at least fun to talk to.

"I guess you must have time travel, to be here running the game. Does The Synergis use it a lot?"

[[No. We’re a little afraid of it, really.]]

That sounded sincere, but given Dio’s previous string of lies, I decided to count the answer as maybe .

Recovered from the ranking trial—at least enough to stand—I went to explore my wet room . I’m not sure I was more disappointed or relieved that there was no sign of suction tubes, or much of anything in a room that reminded me of a Styrofoam packing container—moulded with various ridges and ledges, but otherwise empty.

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