"This guy lies as glibly as my Cycog," I said.
"How do you know it’s a lie?" my mother asked.
"Even prompting us with specific images, there’d surely be variation from person to person, and I’ve seen enough streams of gameplay to show that multiple people are seeing exactly the same thing. Unless he’s saying that they’ve turned player brains into a giant LAN." I stopped, struck by the coincidence of names. "I really hope that’s not what he’s saying."
"Lars Anderssen, EuroPlayer," the next reporter was saying. "Virtual reality on this level represents a profound shift in human interaction. Players are experiencing simulated injuries, sex, and death. They wear bodies not their own: a circumstance that will provide as much shock as insight. Does Ryzonart take any responsibility—does Ryzonart acknowledge the moral responsibility it must bear?"
Dom Kinnen inclined his head. "In designing Dream Speed, we have incorporated into every aspect of the game a push to minimise harm. The majority of the customer complaints we’ve received so far have been in relation to restrictions to interaction—and our free use of the Ban Hammer, which is likely the reason we are facing the DDOS attack now. Just as there is no technical necessity for forcing a five hour play shut-out, we’ve chosen to limit the amount of pain players can experience, and to honour codes of conduct expected in the non-virtual world. Ryzonart takes player safety very seriously."
That brought a little rush of questions, none of which Kinnen responded to, until finally the babble gave way to the next number holder.
"Battle Shroud, Ezy. What is Ryzonart’s response to calls in multiple countries to block access to Dream Speed?"
"It’s possible that will happen. A matter for those governments to deal with."
There was just a hint of amusement in Kinnen’s voice, and that didn’t surprise me, because no government would enjoy the backlash that would follow taking away virtual youth.
After that point, the interview devolved primarily into reiterations of questions already asked. Kinnen, the third time he was asked to prove he was human, wondered if anyone had brought along a hot wire and a petri dish, and a few of the visible reporters looked thoroughly inclined to storm the stage to take a blood sample. But overall, The Interview was a far less dramatic and momentous occasion most players had been hoping for.
For myself, I’d half expected to recognise Dio wearing a skinsuit, but Kinnen hadn’t felt at all like Dio. Instead, he’d come across as a fairly ordinary smart person who had produced a revolutionary but entirely possible game that he made no attempt to pretend was anything but fictional.
"Verdict?" my mother asked, after flicking through and then muting a spate of post-interview analysis.
"Well, I never expected him to get up before the press and say Take me to your leader," I said. "Short of an appearance from something clearly non-human, sticking to it’s all made up seems the only line they could take."
"The far future setting probably is fiction," my father pointed out. "Unless we really are dealing with time travellers, of course. But I’m entirely willing to believe The Synergis and Cycogs could be a part of an existing galactic community, and Dream Speed a softening process to get us used to their concepts before official first contact."
I thought about whether I was being softened. I’d certainly adapted far more quickly than I would have believed to having Dio as a constant presence—at least until te had turned into not-Dio. Which of them would be with me when I logged back in?
Only one way to find out.
33
fingerprints
I’d chosen to log out in a sleep pod rather than Soup, mainly because I couldn’t forget the idea that there were probably dozens of Core Units all in the same vat—or would be if not for the conveniences of simulations. I definitely preferred waking up curled comfortably on my side, rather than with that hit of mint-chill Soup. And the pod had the added advantage that, instead of immediately stepping out into the staging area, I could lie there thinking some more.
Eventually, I decided asking questions was a better option to anticipating answers.
"Dio, given that Bios body hop, and Cycogs are little motes of light, does The Synergis have any definitive way of telling individuals apart?"
One of those motes of light drifted through the ceiling of my sleep pod.
[[Yes. It took us a long time to reach that point, however. Bio lan was something we could sense, but not initially measure, and much of the way it functions is still a process of discovery for us. But we can now clearly identify individual Bios from their lan. Uniquely identifying Cybercognates was an easier task, but has its own issues, because we change more completely than Bios. For instance, a system administrator who had put valuables under Self Lock later divided into two, and neither of the shards were recognised by the lock.]]
"Can you tell each other apart just by, uh, looking?"
[[Those who know me best would likely be able to pick me out of a crowd by my…call it aura. But that is not a definitive thing, any more than our voices are impossible to imitate.]] There was an unmistakeable thread of amusement in that last sentence. This was definitely Dio, and a Dio who had clearly guessed that I’d been upset, that I’d logged out hastily because I’d been able to tell voices apart.
"Why isn’t the Construct Cycog good enough at pretending to be you that it didn’t use your laugh?"
[[Oh, we do that deliberately. It makes us uncomfortable, for one thing, to have pretend selves to that level. But we also like to see if Bios notice.]]
"I should have known."
[[The intention is not to distress, however,]] Dio went on, in a less entertained tone. [[I apologise for that. The denial of service attacks are testing our connections.]]
I shrugged, because it had been silly of me to be bothered in any way. I was not going to describe to Dio the sensation of walking through a crowd holding on to your mother’s bag, and then looking up to see a bemused stranger.
[[I learned a great deal about you from that last session. I had not previously noted the leadership tendencies.]]
"Is that leading? I’m hardly the only one out there who wants to avoid a pointless waste of time arguing, so I figured there’d be other people there who just wanted to get on with it. Did you decide I was bad with people because I shut off all my communication feeds?"
[[Maybe.]]
I shook my head, deciding not to try to explain that I was fine with people, so long as I could take extended breaks from them, and was not currently made of fail. Speaking of which…
Arlen and Imoenne were either fully anon, or not logged in yet. Silent was on Mars, exploring the area outside the Challenge location, and I chatted to him and other guild members as they logged back in and dissected The Interview down to the same conclusion my parents had reached.
[g]<Silent> The big question being which of the many possibilities they’re preparing us for.
[g]<Far Cryinggame> Ranging from The Last Starfighter to Matrix?