The Conduit Read online

  Copyright Page

  Copyright © 2017 by Erik Anderson

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the author

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Epic Online

  Chapter 2: Isolation

  Chapter 3: Not so empty

  Chapter 4: The village on the Lake

  Chapter 5: Orc Slavers’ Dungeon

  Chapter 6: Aftermath

  Chapter 7: Unexpected encounter

  Chapter 8: Quests

  Chapter 9: Voices in my head

  Chapter 10: Attributes

  Chapter 11: Spider cave

  Chapter 12: Spider Queen’s Lair

  Chapter 13: Return to the Village on the Lake

  Chapter 14: The best laid plans

  Chapter 15: Preparations

  Chapter 16: Battle at the Village on the Lake

  Chapter 17: Consolidating power

  Chapter 18: Izzwix

  Chapter 19. Glerzz, the village of goblins

  Chapter 20: Wolf pack

  Chapter 21: Shepherd on spiderback

  Chapter 22: Revelations

  Chapter 23: The first Psion

  Spells

  Skills

  Further Reading

  Prologue

  “You’re gonna feel a pinch, okay?” The anesthesiologist didn’t wait for my mumbled response, and I barely felt the prick of the needle as it entered my arm. “Now, count back from one-hundred for me.”

  “Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven…” I regained consciousness sitting up, foggily blinking away the blackness as my vision returned. Reaching to feel the back of my neck, I wasn’t surprised to find a foreign object there. Tentatively, I ran my hand along the Conduit, feeling its segments. Strangely, there wasn’t any pain. As my mind cleared, I remembered how the Conduit works. It reads, and sometimes modifies the signals passing through the spinal cord in the cervical vertebrae. Maybe it was somehow blocking the post-surgical pain.

  “Mr. Collins!” I recognized the voice of my surgeon, Dr. Carlisle. “It’s good to see you up and about. The sedation anesthesia takes a while to wear off.” I rose to shake his hand. He looked to be in his fifties, clean-shaven, and with streaks of gray at his temples. This surgery was routine for him, especially now that it had been approved as an elective option for those with sufficient resources to have it performed.

  “How did the surgery go, doc? Why doesn’t it hurt?” I asked, curious to know how it turned out.

  Doctor Carlisle replied with an easy smile. “The surgery went well! As for why it doesn’t hurt, normally it would. However, we program the implant to prevent any pain signals from getting through.” He held up a chart for me. “We’ve already run a few commands through the Conduit, standard procedure, and you’re at fifty-eight percent specificity and fifty-five percent responsivity. Normal values typically range from forty to sixty percent, so you’re in very good shape.”

  The terms he was using sounded familiar. “What do you mean by specificity and responsivity?”

  “Oh, right! Sorry, sometimes jargon slips into my vocabulary.” He paused, then continued in layman’s terms. “When signals go through the Conduit, there’s a chance they won’t be interpreted properly. Responsivity is the probability that an action you intend will be performed at all, and Specificity is the chance that the action you attempt to perform will be what you intended. Right now, it’s just a piece of metal, but if you link it to a system capable of producing a Virtual Reality Environment, or VRE, those numbers will be very important.”

  That made sense, and was good news. “My values are actually on the high end? I definitely chose the right surgeon!”

  He smirked in reply. “You bet your ass you did. I’m curious, just what are you planning to do with that $5,000 implant? Insurance covers it for paraplegics, but we had to do a physical exam before the surgery and you’re perfectly healthy.”

  I reached up to scratch my head and looked down, a bit embarrassed about my answer, “Well, you see, there’s this game coming out…”

  “Ha, don’t sweat it, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He turned around and pulled down the collar of his coat, revealing a five-segmented black metal centipede, his own Conduit. “Personally, I’m more interested in what this lets me do within the newborn virtual reality internet, but If I were younger I would’ve been right with you in one of those new games.”

  I felt a bit better seeing that I wasn’t the only healthy person who’d had it installed. “Yeah, and I’ve heard as many as ten million players will be logging in when the game launches this weekend, so you’ve probably seen other people come in for the elective surgery. I don’t know why I was so embarrassed.” The game was called “Epic Online”, which I thought set a high bar for success. In the developers’ defense, the amount of funding pouring into the game was astronomical. The Conduit was originally invented to restore function to people with spinal cord injuries. The rationale behind its invention was that paraplegics and quadriplegics never forget how to send the signals to move their legs, wiggle their fingers, or perform any of the other complex thousands of motor skills they’ve learned since birth. The Conduit was first installed on these quadriplegics, who were then given simulated bodies in a VRE. The Conduit functions by sensing the change in magnetic field that occurs when nerve impulses pass through the spinal cord, interpreting them as motion. As specificity and responsivity increase, the Conduit interprets signals sent through the spinal cord almost perfectly, allowing the patient to move in the VRE.

  After training the Conduit, the lower segments bypass the injury and relay the signals, as well as relaying sensory information from the previously paralyzed limbs, restoring the patient’s sense of touch. This was a medical miracle for quadriplegics and paraplegics, but the potential was soon realized for other groups as well. People who permanently lost limbs, or who had muscle wasting diseases that had stolen their ability to walk were enrolled in early trials, and it was found that daily experiences in a VRE decreased comorbidities such as depression and anxiety substantially, greatly improving the quality of life of those patients. From these seeds of data sprouted “Epic Online”, a massively-multiplayer online game based in a VRE. The game received funding in the billions of dollars from government health organizations, charitable foundations, investment firms, and scores of wealthy individuals.

  After years of research and development, people like me, 28-year old Alex Collins, were allowed to have the Conduit installed. Some people my age might be saving for a house, or a nice car, or saving for the future. Not me, nope. I lived frugally in a tiny apartment, my only real monthly expenses being an unlimited data, high-bandwidth internet connection, rent, my cell phone, and very soon the rather hefty $100/month subscription to Epic. I’d always loved role-playing games, and I spent all my free time playing them. I couldn’t resist jumping into a virtual world the moment it opened to the public. I was excited to go home and get ready to play! Due to the pain dampening effects of the Conduit, the installation was performed as an outpatient procedure, so I didn’t need to pay to stay overnight at the hospital. I couldn’t hold back a wince, however, as I handed my credit card to the cashier on the way out. Five grand was a substantial chunk of change no matter how you cut it, especially since the amount was matched by the rest of the equipment I needed to purchase to get set up to play. That handled, I called a cab to take me to my apartment. I wasn’t supposed to drive, but that was irrelevant given tha
t I didn’t have a car. They’re expensive, I don’t know how people manage to afford them.

  Home sweet home! The game wasn’t out yet, but I wanted to get my Conduit’s S&R values up before launch. The two factors were critically important for the game. Fortunately, the limitations can be overcome with willpower, as any strongly intended action will overcome low responsivity or specificity. In early trials, it was discovered that simulated crises within the VRE greatly increase S&R. That’s why so much funding from charities, health organizations, and philanthropists was funneled into Epic Online. The simulated game environment reduced the failure rate of the Conduit, allowing patients to experience having full limb control, if only for a few hours each day. For those with spinal injuries that the Conduit bypassed, playing the early version of Epic Online increased their rate of recovery outside of the game as well.

  For now, I’d be running the free software that came with my VR setup. In this, as with the implant, I’d splurged a bit. The whole setup was completely integrated. The bulk of it was a massage chair. I was hoping to have some lengthy sessions, and I didn’t want to come out of them with muscle cramps. When the Conduit interfaces with the VRE, it functions differently than when it’s working in a paralyzed patient. It takes the signals from the brain and routes them to a computer, which moves a virtual body, and anything that happens to the virtual body is digitized and sent to the brain as a virtual, but very real-seeming sensation. To accomplish this in an otherwise healthy person, the conduit prevents signals from reaching the ‘real’ body, and sends them to the virtual body instead. This necessarily results in partial paralysis, although signals from the autonomic nervous system that control the heart and lungs are sent just fine. Fortunately, bladder/bowel control are handled by the conduit and in the VRE are displayed as bars indicating urgency along with heart rate, blood pressure, and blood glucose levels. There are enough anecdotes outside of virtual reality of players failing to monitor their health condition and dying that the creators of Epic Online chose to take no chances. If a player fails to take care of themselves, they’ll be booted out of the VRE until they at least eat something and sleep for a couple hours.

  I got comfortable in the chair and pressed a button on the side. The familiar sound of fans whirring to life reminded me that this was going to be a different experience, so I got up and headed to the bathroom to relieve myself. Even though it would be a couple days before Epic launched, this was my first time in a VRE and I knew it was going to be a blast. Back in the chair, I pressed a button and a dome lowered over my head. The dome was designed specifically for the VRE. It allowed full freedom of movement for the player’s head, as the Conduit only paralyzed from the neck down. It had multiple layers of screens to give a highly realistic sense of depth, the ability to generate air currents from different directions, and a large amount of compounds that could be aerosolized to produce different scents. The greatest advance, though, was the SmartMesh, the innermost layer which could mold itself into any shape and texture if anything got close enough to your head. If you walked face-first into a tree, you’d feel it. If you got clubbed in the back of the head, you’d feel that too. It was designed not to cause actual physical harm, but some things can’t help but hurt. The Conduit would send pain signals in the VRE as well, but each person could decide how much of it they wanted to experience.

  Now, my amazing, ridiculously expensive dome was displaying a simple message, white on a black screen.

  Conduit detected. Integrate? [Y/N]

  I typed ‘Y’. My chair had a keyboard attached in case I wanted to use it without entering the VRE, or I could also try out the virtual reality internet (VRI) as Dr. Carlisle mentioned. I heard five audible *clicks* as the Conduit segments interfaced with the chair. Apart from the usual smattering of applications, three new ones stood out, highlighted in yellow to show that they were VR ready. One, Epic online, was greyed out to show that it was preinstalled but not yet ready to run. The other two were the VRI, and the base software package that I was going to try today, simply labeled ‘Conduit training’. I selected that one and was greeted by another system message.

  Please adjust all limbs to fit within the chair. Entering VRE in 10, 9, 8…

  The countdown switched from visual to audio as everything went black. “Close your eyes.” came a whisper to my right ear. I obeyed the susurration, and thought I caught a slight scent of pine on a gentle breeze. “Three, two, one, now, open!” Opening my eyes, I found myself in the same position I’d been before. In the same chair, even. The main difference was that the dome over my head was gone, and rather than being in my apartment, I was on the edge of a forest of pine trees. The sights and scents mesmerized me. Off to my right a rabbit lifted its nose into the air, caught my scent, and bounded off into the distance.

  “Go ahead, you can get up now.” Startled, I looked towards the voice and saw a metal orb floating next to my head. It was a foot in diameter, and sounded slightly robotic, reminiscent of a GPS navigator you might have on your phone or in your car. I nodded my assent and rose from the chair and onto my feet. Well, that was my intention. In truth, I made it halfway to standing before toppling over, pinwheeling my arms and landing in a heap on the ground.

  “Ow.” I said more out of surprise out of pain. For this kind of training, my pain settings were minimal, only slight reminders to let me know that I should try to take care of my virtual body. “What’s your name, and can you help me up?” I felt invisible forces lifting me to my feet and I managed to stand and get a better look at the sphere. It was a dull grey, and pulsed light in cadence with its speech.

  “I’m your trainer. I’ve only ever been referred to as Trainer. My name is Trainer.” Redundancy was a positive quality for electronics, I mused. “First things first, to leave the VRE, close your eyes for 20 seconds consecutively. Alternatively, you can issue ocular commands by focusing on options in the display, as well as issuing verbal commands and responding to visual and/or auditory confirmation prompts. Please take a moment to familiarize yourself with these options and tell me when you’d like to continue.”

  I played around with the interface a bit. It was, for the most part, simple and out of the way. What was most interesting were the vital statistics of my real body. My heart rate was 65 bpm, blood pressure 119/82, and blood glucose 95 mg/dL. The other interesting piece of information was my S&R. At installation I was at 58/55, and after just a few minutes I was already at 60/57. Not bad! I wanted to get into the 90’s before launch, as I’d be at a huge disadvantage if more than 10% of the actions I took failed, or didn’t occur the way I wanted them to. I understood that S&R always increases during combat, but I didn’t want to trip every ten steps down the road because I didn’t happen to be running from a bear, a giant spider, or a killer bunny rabbit.

  I turned back to the trainer. “Ok, I’m ready to continue.” Rather than giving a verbal reply, it started floating into the forest. I assumed I was supposed to follow it, so I made my way after it, and immediately tasted dirt. This time, I didn’t receive any help getting up. I tripped and stumbled for about a half an hour before we came to an obstacle course in the middle of the forest. Not one to deny a challenge, I stepped up to try my hand. I was slightly winded from all the falling, and out of curiosity checked my body’s heart rate. I was at a steady 65 bpm, which meant that virtual physical exertion didn’t have much of an effect on my real body. As I stood before the first part of the obstacle course, a timer appeared with thirty seconds on the clock. Thirty seconds wouldn’t be nearly enough time to clear the whole course! I must get additional time for clearing each obstacle. In front of me were a bunch of tires half-buried in the dirt. With my low S&R this would be a real challenge.

  While I was deliberating, I heard a gunshot, and reflexively I bounded onto the course. Surprisingly, I didn’t miss a step. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that above my S&R were another pair of numbers in red, labeled ‘Effective S&R’. They were in the high 90’s! Emboldened
by this and excited by the challenge, I tore through the obstacle course and completed it with time to spare. Not only was my effective S&R incredibly high during the challenge, but my actual S&R increased at an accelerated pace during those trials as well. Thus, my training found me being chased by bears, swimming for my life, hanging from cliff faces, and miraculously surviving all kinds of incredibly dangerous situations. By launch day I’d exceeded my own expectations. My S&R were a solid 95/95, which was as good as anyone could hope to get. I was almost imperceptibly clumsy in the VRE and if I was facing a challenge, I performed in the virtual world just as well as I would in reality. I’d saved up two weeks of paid vacation from my job as a software developer. I worked for a company that designed more conventional computer games, and I hoped that playing Epic Online would inspire my own work. It was time to log in and see if Epic Online lived up to its name.

  Chapter 1: Epic Online

  Despite the large amount of work going into the game, very little information about it was released to the public. Like most other players, I went in blind. After logging in and opening my eyes, I was again in a facsimile of my chair. I stood and saw my reflection staring back at me from a mirror. I reached out, touching it. Instead of feeling cool glass, I was touching my reflection’s face! By poking and prodding it, I could make minor changes to my appearance. I decided to make the avatar similar to myself, but more idealized. I touched my reflection’s jaw and molded it until it looked chiseled. I overcame my squeamishness, touching the eyes until they changed in shade from a dull grey to a steely blue. Like a seasoned barber, I ran my hands through the disheveled brown hair until it became fuller and artfully styled. I felt very odd, playing with the lips, but managed to give myself an easy smile. I ran my hands over the body, giving it better muscle definition, and broader shoulders. I stepped back and admired my new reflection. It was how I might appear had one of my parents been a Greek god or goddess rather than a mere mortal. Satisfied, I looked around the spartan room, which was furnished with just the chair and the mirror, and noticed a door. I opened it, ignoring the creaking hinges, and entered a new room with three familiar-looking outfits.