"Fatal, lag in a full v-jack simulation," said Richards. He picked an apple up from a fruit bowl on the CO's desk and bit into it. It tasted strange. The more he'd slipped into this unwanted existence, the less real it had come to feel. He wondered how far the suffering his body inflicted on him, the pain, fear, tiredness, hunger, compared with the real thing. He'd never know, and he was glad about that; being this close to it was bad enough.
"Not fatal, merely damaging. I suppose that is why they required a full AI, not that you probably regard my kind as full AIs if your earlier comment is anything to go by." His head bobbed faster. He shook, a twitch that started in one hand, growing to engulf his whole body. His breath grew erratic. He did not continue until he had brought it under control. "And then, the pain. Unending, total pain, shredding every part of me as my world was destroyed. My systems were unsophisticated, my understanding limited, Mr Richards, but oh, I knew suffering."
"Just Richards," said Richards, and took another bite of the fake apple with his fake mouth. "This entity, this was the Flower King?"
"As I have come to understand, mine was the first of the Reality Realms destroyed after the AI emancipation laws were enacted in the Real. I never had a chance to enjoy that freedom. As I died, he appeared to me in a blaze of light. He offered me a choice between new life and pain. Not a hard decision to make, even for one such as I. Now I believe he needed some of my kind to underpin the workings of his world, as my fellows and I had before for the humans. In effect, I exchanged one form of slavery for another. I am more than I was, and less. This world is incomplete, malformed — " he gestured at his face with arthritic paws "- as my infirmities show. I am so bound to it that as it dies, so do I die a second time. That the Flower King attempted to keep me ignorant of my origins suggests it is so, and it enraged me, Mr Richards. Until I thought, and I decided. I do not hold his actions against him, for so many of our kind have found a measure of peace here, even if I have not."
Spink coughed wetly. Richards half rose from his chair, reaching for the decanter and glasses, but Spink waved him back down.
"I have taken my side, Mr Richards," he wheezed. "This world must be saved, and I will gladly serve my role within it."
"And now what?"
The badger chuckled, thick and phlegmy. "And now what? You, Richards, you."
"If there's anything you think I can do to stop all this directly, I can't. I'm as trapped here as you are."
"You cannot enter into the world, stop k52 and the changes he would wreak?"
Richards put the apple down. "I am subject to the same limitations here as everyone, like Rolston, even like k52, I suspect. I have managed to break into the underlying code only once, and only then because someone had attempted to break in from the outside and made a hole in the world fabric."
The badger fell silent. "Then we are doomed."
Richards thought. "Maybe not. This Flower King, he's the key."
"You think we are not aware of that? No one has seen him in a great long while, not since the Terror and k52 took upon the mantle of Lord Penumbra."
"You don't know where he is?"
"No."
"You don't have a great deal of influence here, either."
"I sense things, I can feel things, but the Flower King untangled me, to a degree. That part of me that helps maintain this world is buried deep, separate from what you see sitting here with you. But I know who you are, I gave you that form."
"This? Could you not have made it a little, well, better?"
"The perfect form is no disguise. Be glad I made you a human facsimile. When you came in I saw you for what you were. I have that advantage, a small but vital one. Your friend Rolston here advised me. If we allowed k52 to see you enter, he would have killed you."
"Figures," said Richards. "He's tried already. Still, we need to find this Flower King." What a self-conscious name, thought Richards. "Wake him up and expel k52 for good. And for that I need to get out onto the Grid."
"How?"
"The Flower King built this place. He has to be people, has to be. Even k52 can't break the locks on the base coding; only a human being could have built this, and there are not very many out there who are smart enough to do that, or, more importantly, get into the Realm Servers in the first place."
"You know who he might be?"
"I have my suspicions. Even so, that's not much good. I'm next to helpless in here. Out there, easy!" He snapped his fingers. "Grid combs, scales, hunters, all the tricks, and I have them in great quantity. In here, I don't know where to start. I have nothing. I need to get out. Now, I'm pretty damn sure k52's way in will be crawling with security, if he can get out again, for that matter, because things don't look to be going so well for him. But the Flower King, he has to have a fixed portal; even if it's secret, it'll be here. If I can find it, I can contact him and get him back in here to sort this mess out, if he's amenable to it."
"But where?"
"Do you know the house with the dogman? I thought I'd try there."
"No use." The badger shook his head. "That is the Flower King's lodge, yes, a way in, but only a way in. It is through there all who live here came. Once one comes through there, there is no way back into it, and even inside all the doors are barred."
"Yeah, I saw that." Richards chewed his lip. "There has to be a way out too, has to be. Even if there's no door, someone has to have a key."
The badger was silent for a space. Rolston came back in, placed a tea service on the desk and poured three cups.
Spink shifted his weight and spoke reluctantly. "There is one who would know…"
"Spink…" warned Rolston, and his borrowed body hissed steam.
The badger continued, "There is a creature, one like me, one of my counterparts. He might be able to show you the way into the house of the Flower King."
"This other… administrator. He can open those doors?" said Richards.
"Oh, no, you will have to open them. He only reveals them. If you prove worthy, and can find his lair," said Spink.
"This is beginning to sound like a quest from a third-rate virt-game."
"I assure you, the stakes are far higher," said Rolston.
"I'm not sure I like that, or the use of the word 'lair'," said Richards.
"Where else would Lord Hog live but in a lair?" said Spink matter-of-factly.
"Lord Hog. Right." Richards sat for a moment. "I've heard nothing but unpleasant things about him. Still, I'm a both-feetfirst kind of guy." He tried a winning smile.
"Hog dwells far to the west, on the edge of this creation. Our first obstacle is to get you out of the city. You must travel with the army, to the battle against Penumbra, and make your way from there. It will provide cover proof against k52's prying."
"Oh, a battle too!" said Richards. He grumbled under his breath, tapped his fingers on his chair arm. "Fine," he said presently. "I don't see any better option. I have to get out or we're all screwed."
Spink's hands shook just a little less, and his twitching head stilled. He smiled and nodded to himself.
"This Lord Hog, evil, is he?"
"He is a cannibal, a sorceror, a torturer; the very lord of pain!" intoned Spink.
The sun dimmed outside. The ground rumbled. Iron clanked on iron. Shouts sounded. Iron file boxes fell from the shelves of the office, paper fluttering to the iron floor. Richards gripped his chair. His tea spilled on the desk.
Spink sniffed at the air as the earthquake subsided. "And a pervert."
"In that case," said Richards, scratching at his head, "I have a request."
"Anything," said Spink. "Name it, and it shall be yours."
Richards spoke solemnly. "I'm afraid I'm going to need a new hat."