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First Set of Edits Done!

7/7/2014

Zeke floated on waves of searing pain, up and down he bobbed, a terrible burning in his chest. Through a sensation of falling, the pinpoint of light that had dominated his black and white vision had expanded to fill his entire world, a land of perfect white. It was impossible for him to orient himself, so he instead continued to ride the waves of agony. There was no logical progression to time, only the frequency laid out by the terrible throbbing in his chest.

Zeke floated endlessly on waves of searing pain. Up and down he bobbed, a terrible burning in his chest, like fire ants chewing through his torso, burrowing holes and spitting venom. The pinpoint of light that had dominated his black and white vision had expanded to fill his entire world, a land of perfect white. The motion was accompanied by a gut wrenching sensation of falling, making him want to vomit.. It was impossible for him to orient himself, so instead merely continued to ride the waves of agony, gripping onto the pain as his only reference. There was no logical progression to time, only the frequency laid out by the throbbing in his chest.

"It's just a game," he heard himself say. "It's just a game. It can't control you. You control it. It's just a game."

"It's just a game," he heard himself say, his voice distant. "It's just a game. It can't control you. You control it. It's just a game."

Slowly, and with great effort, he pulled the fragments of his consciousness back together, forcing them into a coherent and working structure. Screwing his eyes shut, he breathed deeply, letting the pain bleed out of his chest cavity. When peace finally overcame him, he opened his brown eyes. He found himself on the floor of his apartment, a resident of the empty pizza boxes and soda bottles. From his position flat on his back, he rolled onto his side, from which he saw that his Temporal Rift interface had wound up next to him, dangling down from the wires that ran to his rig. The unit had gone into a standby mode, having lost the input from its master.

Slowly, and with great effort, he pulled the fragments of his consciousness back together, forcing them into a coherent and working structure. Screwing his eyes tightly shut, he breathed deeply, letting the pain bleed out of his chest cavity. When peace finally overcame him, he once again opened his brown eyes. He found himself on the floor of his apartment, a resident among the empty pizza boxes and soda bottles. From his starting position, flat on his back, he gingerly rolled onto his side. His new vantage point let him see that his Temporal Rift interface had wound up next to him, dangling down from the wires that ran to his rig. The unit had gone into a standby mode, having lost the input from its master.

"God dammit," Zeke cursed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. "Why didn't I spend time setting up that thing right?"

"God dammit," Zeke cursed, sitting up and rubbing a strange tingling at the back of his head. "Why didn't I spend time setting that up right?"

Then Zeke had a flash of realization that he had dropped from the game just before completing the match of his life, and he had likely forfeited everything he had worked so hard for. He felt that he was going to vomit as a creeping iciness slithered over his arms and legs.

Zeke was then struck by a flash of realization that he had dropped from the game moments before completing the match of his life, and he had likely forfeited everything he had worked so hard for. He felt that he was going to vomit as a creeping iciness slithered over his arms and legs.

"No," he said in disbelief. "No, no, no. I'm not going back down the ladder. No."
"No," he said in disbelief. "No, no, no. I'm not going back down the ladder. I need to get up and out."

Zeke grabbed the dangling interface and stood up, setting the unit on the desk and double checking the connections.

Zeke quickly snatched the dangling interface and stood up, setting the unit on the desk and double checking the connections.

"I need to get back in there," he said. "Maybe I wasn't out that long."

"I can get back in," he lied to himself. "Maybe I wasn't out that long."

Zeke's hands froze as a strange buzzing filled his head, forcing him to blink hard. When he opened his eyes again, a blue light danced across his vision, like a darting insect, dazzling him with bioluminescence.

Zeke's hands froze as a strange buzzing filled his head, forcing him to blink hard. When he opened his eyes again, a blue light danced across his vision, a darting insect, dazzling him with bioluminescence.

"What the hell was that?" Zeke wondered aloud.

Pausing, he suddenly realized how still the world was. Though he lived in the ghetto, he heard none of the usual loud music, the domestic disturbances, the polluted traffic. He didn't even hear his freaky, nyphomaniac neighbor getting plowed by yet another biosculpted meat slab.

Now pausing, he suddenly realized how still the world had become. Though he lived in a poor and rowdy neighborhood, he heard none of the usual loud music, the domestic disturbances, the polluted traffic. He didn't even hear his nyphomaniac neighbor getting plowed by yet another biosculpted meat slab.

Another buzz ran through the back of his skull, but this time he caught himself in the middle of his wince and forced himself to see what was happening. Though it was difficult to focus on, it looked like a command interface had flashed through his vision, but that was impossible.

Another buzz ran through the back of his skull, but this time Zeke caught himself mid-wince and forced himself to look. Though it was difficult to focus his vision, it looked as if a command interface had flashed through his vision, but that wasn't something that should be possible.

"Zeke?" a distant voice came to him, tiny and full of static.

Panicked, Zeke's vision darted around the room.

Panicked by the sudden sound, Zeke's vision darted around the room.

"Who's there? What do you want?" he croaked, fear tightening his throat.

"Zeke, can you hear me?" the voice came through a little more clearly, but was still laced with artifacts, hissing and popping.

"Zeke, can you hear me?" the voice came through a little more clearly, though it remained laced with hissing and popping.

"Tyrin?" Zeke asked, praying this was all some sort of dream.

"Tyrin?" Zeke asked hesitantly, silently praying this had all been some sort of dream.

"Yeah, I can year you, man," Tyrin said, his voice now stronger as Zeke focused on it.

"Yeah, I can year you now," Tyrin said, his voice growing stronger as Zeke focused in on it.

"How?" he asked, now very scared and disoriented.

"How?" he asked, now becoming very scared and disoriented.

"What do you mean, how? You're showing online. You dropped from the match but you're idle in the lobby," Tyrin explained matter-of-factly.

"Okay, you got me, man," Zeke said, trying to laugh. "How did you do it? Holoprojectors? Nanobots? Pretty expensive prank if you ask me."

"Okay, you got me, man," Zeke said, trying to laugh but choking instead. "How did you do it? Holoprojectors? Nanites? Pretty expensive prank if you ask me. Hey, you better not have cost us a real match."

"What prank, man?" Tyrin said. "One minute you're screaming and I swear that somehow you're dying, the next you drop from the match."

"What prank, man?" Tyrin said. "One minute you're screaming to the point that I swear that you're somehow actually dying, the next you drop from the match."

Zeke felt a pang of pain in his chest as he remembered the agony he had suffered, then thought back on the other weird jolts and judders he had experienced while using his bleeding-edge interface.

Zeke felt a phantom pang of pain in his chest as he remembered the agony he had suffered, then thought back on the other weird jolts and judders he had experienced while using his bleeding-edge interface.

"Tyrin, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don't have my interface on," Zeke said.

"Tyrin," Zeke said, taking a deep breath, "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don't have my interface on."

"What do you mean? Are you patched in somewhere else?" Tyrin asked.

A pause. "What do you mean? Are you patched in somewhere else?" Tyrin asked.

"No, I'm not patched in at all. I'm standing in the middle of my apartment and somehow I'm still talking to you. Even though my rig is off I can talk to you," Zeke explained, disbelief in his voice.

"No, that's just it. I'm not patched in at all. I'm standing in the middle of my apartment and... and somehow I'm still talking to you, even though my rig is off," Zeke explained, his voice shuddering.

"You're no Neo. What the hell did you do?" his friend questioned him.

"Yeah, right. You're no Neo and I'm not the one actually getting pranked. What the hell is going on?" his friend questioned him.

"Nothing, man! I'm freaking out here, this is crazy," Zeke said.

"Nothing, man! I mean it! I'm freaking out here, this is crazy," Zeke said.

"Okay, calm down. It's probably just some weird psychological effect," Tyrin said, trying to remain steady. "Just walk over to the door of your apartment and open it. Just take a peek outside."

"Okay, okay, just calm down. It's probably just some weird psychological effect," Tyrin said, trying his level best to remain calm. "Just walk over to the door of your apartment and open it. Just take a peek outside and you'll see everything is fine."

"Peek outside," Zeke said, forcing himself to breath. "Yeah, I'll do that."

"Peek outside," Zeke said, suddenly remembering to breathe. "Yeah, I'll do that."

With leaden feet, Zeke forced himself to walk to the door. The gap of a few strides took over a minute as he continually steadied himself. Reaching out, he placed his hand on the round, metal door knob. The cool surface of the metal, resplendent with its machined texture, startled him.

With leaden feet, Zeke forced himself to walk over to the door. The gap of only a few strides took him over a minute as he continually steadied himself. Reaching out, he placed his hand on the round, metal door knob. The cool surface of the steel, resplendent with its machined texture, startled him.

"This is real," he said. "This has to be real. It is real."

So saying, he flung open the door and screamed.

So saying, he flung open the door. Then, he screamed. [might keep the original line]

"What? What is it?" Tyrin shouted in his ear.

Collapsing to his knees, Zeke looked through the door frame, outside of which was a gray, bleak expanse of emptiness, a world without horizon, devoid of form.

Collapsing to his knees, Zeke looked out the open door, outside of which was a gray, bleak expanse of emptiness, a world without horizon, devoid of form. An empty computer construct.

"It's gone," Zeke sobbed. "No, I'm gone."

"It's gone," Zeke sobbed. "No, that's not right. I'm gone."

"What the hell do you mean, 'gone?'" Tyrin said angrily.

"What the hell do you mean, 'gone?'" Tyrin said, now getting angry.

"I can't get out," Zeke said with finality.

He reached up with his virtual hands and placed them on the sides of his head where an interface unit sat in the real world. He pulled up on the air, hoping that somehow he would emerge into reality. Nothing happened.

Reaching up with his virtual hands, he placed them on the sides of his head where an interface unit sat in the real world. He pulled up on the air, hoping that somehow he would emerge into reality, but nothing happened.

"My brain, my consciousness, it's...gone," he said.

"My brain, my consciousness, it's been disconnected," he said.

"Okay, hold on," Tyrin said. "We can get you out. Let's just get someone over there and unplug you."

"Okay, hold on," Tyrin said, trying to breathe. "We can get you out. Let's just get someone over there and unplug you."

"How?" Zeke said. "If I'm not in my body, what's going to happen when you unplug my rig?"

"How?" Zeke snarled. "If I'm not in my body, what's going to happen when you unplug my rig? My mind, won't know to come back. My soul, if there is one, won't know to reattach itself. I'm fucked, man. Fucked!"

"I don't know, but we have to try," Tyrin said. "I can hop on the maglev and come help. Uh, where do you live again?"

"Hey, chill! I don't know what's going to happen, but we have to try something," Tyrin said. "I can hop on a maglev and come help." Zeke heard Tyrin rooting around on the other side of the line. Then, "Uh, so I don't know where you live."

Zeke shook his head. "Not going to happen. I know neither of us has the cash to get you over here, and I'm not going to risk unplugging."

Zeke shook his head. "Not going to happen. We don't have the cash to get you over here. And I told you, I'm not going to risk unplugging."

"Okay, someone we game with has to be closer to you," Tyrin suggested. "Someone with their own transport? Maybe?"

"Okay, someone else we game with has to be closer to you," Tyrin grasped at air. "Someone with their own transport? Maybe?"

Zeke couldn't help but chuckle. "I guess I've been an asshole. I don't know anyone who would help. Besides, I told you that I'm not going to disconnect. It's too dangerous."

Zeke couldn't help but chuckle. "Man, I guess I've been an asshole. I don't know anyone who would help me. Besides, I've made my decision: I'm not going to disconnect. It's too dangerous."

"Can't we call the police?" Tyrin said, grasping at anything. "I know it's a long shot, but we have to try."

"Can't we call the police? Fire?" Tyrin said, clawing for anything. "I know it's a long shot, but we have to try."

"Thank you, Tyrin, for sticking with me," Zeke said. "I know I was a pain in the ass, but you're a good friend."

"Dude, we don't have police or fire here, it's a total slum" Zeke said. "Thank you, Tyrin, for sticking with me. I know I was a pain in the ass, but you were always a good friend."

"What the hell are you talking about, Zeke?" his friend said softly.

"Goodbye, Tyrin. Take care of yourself," Zeke said.

"Zeke, no. Zeke, don't--"

It made sense once he gave in. Reaching out as if he had his normal console, he terminated his communications link with Tyrin, then deleted the contact from his records. Walking back to his desk, he sat down in the chair that occupied his reality. He paused, looking at the dark force that was resting silently atop the desk. Reaching out, he snatched up the Temporal Rift interface and donned it. Inside, he saw that the game was already running, waiting for him. A grim, toothless smile crossed Zeke's face, and then he stepped into the game.

It made sense once he gave in. He could use the system now from inside. Reaching out with his mind, he terminated his link with Tyrin, then deleted the contact from his records. Walking back to his desk, he sat down in the chair that occupied his reality. He paused, looking at the dark force that was resting silently atop the desk. With nothing to do, he snatched up the Temporal Rift interface and donned it. Inside, he saw that the game was already running, waiting for him. A grim, toothless smile crossed Zeke's face, and then he stepped into the game.

Time held no meaning for him. Existence was defined by artificial universes that coalesced and collapsed. He died ten thousand deaths, each more painful than the last. Eventually he felt his physical body, the one he had left behind, slipping away from malnourishment, the automated hydration and feeder systems at his desk no longer containing anything of use. He was at his lowest point, trampled and beaten, his life defined by suffering, his physical body wasting away. He tried to picture his real face, his real features, but found that he could not. Putting down the false interface, he stood and moved to the middle of his apartment--the cell inside his mind. With hope extinguished, he prepared to die quietly, sitting cross legged on the floor of the apartment.

Time no longer held meaning for him. Existence was defined by artificial universes that coalesced and collapsed. He died ten thousand deaths, each more painful than the last. Eventually he could feel that his physical body, the husk he had left behind, was slipping away from malnourishment, the automated hydration and feeder systems at his desk having long ago dispensed their last doses. [must remember to mention these earlier; pro gamers and wannabes are ported for this stuff] He was at his lowest point, trampled and beaten, in a life defined by suffering as his physical body wasted away. He tried to picture his real face, his real features, but found that he could not. Stopping to step away from the game, he stood and moved to the middle of his apartment--the cell inside his mind. With all hope extinguished, he prepared to die quietly, sitting cross legged on the dingy floor.

He closed his eyes and surrendered to time, knowing it would not be long before death came to claim him. Without warning, a hard knock came at his door.

Zeke closed his eyes and surrendered to time, knowing it would not be long before death came to claim him. Without warning, a hard knock came at his door.

Thunk thunk.

Zeke's eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet, then froze.

Zeke's eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet, only to freeze.

"I'm going to go crazy before I die," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, good. I'm going to go crazy before I die," he said, shaking his head.

Getting ready to sit back down, the knock came again.

Preparing to sit back down, the knock came again.

Thunk thunk.

Zeke stopped and stared, his eyes boring holes into the door. Cautiously he crept, moving like prey, until he reached the door. Extending his hand, he rotated the knob and pulled. Bright, piercing white light flooded the room, forcing him to cover his eyes and step back. Into the apartment stepped a man, his face rendered as a blank ball of flesh, defined only by a set of square lens sunglasses.

Zeke stopped and stared, his eyes boring holes into the door. Cautiously, he crept along like hunted prey, moving until he reached the door. Extending his hand, he rotated the knob and pulled. Bright, piercing white light flooded the room, forcing him to cover his eyes and step back. Into the apartment stepped a man, his face rendered as a blank, gray ball of flesh, defined only by a set of square lens sunglasses.

"You are Zeke," the thing said inside his head with a hard, mechanical voice.

"You are Zeke," the thing said, speaking inside his head with a gritty, mechanical tone.

Zeke only nodded.

Zeke could only bring himself to nod.

"Come with me," it ordered.

"Come with me," it ordered, already turning to leave.

"Who are you?" Zeke stammered, finding his voice.

"Who are you?" Zeke stammered, suddenly finding his voice.

"I am a computing unit from the U.S. Government," the thing said. "You stole from us, so we punished you. Now we have come to take you."

"I am an advanced artificial intelligence. I am the property of the United States Government." the thing explained. "One of our security algorithms determined that you illegally possessed a piece of government property and initiated an isolation protocol. In effect, you stole from us, so we punished you. After analyzing your capacities, we have come to take you."

"Take me where?" Zeke said, still backing away.

"Take me where?" Zeke said, backing away.

"We will take your mind to a place where it will be useful. Your body can no longer be saved," it said flatly.

"We will take your mind to a place where it will be of use. Your body can no longer be saved," it said flatly.

Zeke nodded. "And if I don't want to come?"

"You have no choice. This construct is maintained on a government server. It will collapse and your consciousness will be lost."

"You have no choice. This construct is maintained on a government server. If you do not come, it will be deleted and your consciousness will be lost."

"I see," Zeke said. "Then the game?"

"I see," Zeke said. "And the game?"

"A training system."

"Such simulations have been used as training systems for decades," it explained.

"What will my mind be used for?"" Zeke asked with morbid curiosity.

A morbid thought crossed Zeke's conscience. "What will my mind be used for?" he asked.

"Your consciousness can be used for a variety of roles, including combat automatons, surveillance systems, or simple data processing."

"Your consciousness can be used for a variety of roles, including installation in combat automatons, monitoring of surveillance systems, and simple data processing. Your individuality will be compromised."

"I'm a slave," Zeke said.

"So I become a slave," Zeke said. "A drone."

"Weren't you before?"

Zeke closed his eyes and cringed. Surrendering, he stepped forward, the thing leading him out of the door of his apartment. In life he had craved the virtual world. As a slave to it, he had accepted death. Fate, though, had ultimately saddled him with an eternal, digital hell. Exiting the construct, the door shut behind him, leaving behind the dark and fetid remains of his last link to his human existence.

Zeke closed his eyes and cringed. Surrendering, he stepped forward, the AI then leading him out of the door of his apartment. In his life Zeke had craved the virtual world. As a slave to it, he had accepted death. Fate, though, had ultimately saddled him with eternal life. Exiting the construct, the door shut behind him, leaving behind the dark and fetid remains of his last link to his human existence.

Woohoo! Will compile and then comb over again. I think things flow much more rea

A.C. Harrison
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First Set of Edits Done!

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