[g]<Tornin> I’m leaning toward Starfighter: they need lan pilots (or lan something) and this is the equivalent of carefully planted arcade games, training us in the basics, sorting the wheat from the chaff, in preparation for a recruitment offer.
[g]<TALiSON> I don’t see why they couldn’t do that openly. If they, say, are aliens that have lost their lan pilots and need some more to get home, or are AIs that have developed locally and want to travel off-world? Why not just tell us that and ask for volunteers?
[g]<Far Cryinggame> Because setting up an almost plausible MMO is less of a headache than officially dealing with governments?
[g]<Wraith> Because it’s fun to shove their noodle future down our throats. Half recruitment, half giant psych project.
[g]<Far Cryinggame> Your definitive take on The Synergis revolves around what’s between your legs?
[g]<Wraith> When every second Challenge takes my bits away? Yeah.
[g]<Lady Sirah> I’ve got it! I’ve got it! We’ve in an Enclave. It’s like the movie The Village, but we’re the ones in the village. We’re further into the future than we know and the game’s a way of transitioning us to the reality of now.
Arlen and Imoenne popped up in the guild active list, so I pushed guild chat away, and suggested a spot in the staging area to meet up, then went to look for the nearest toilet.
The bathrooms were not divided by species or sex, but by size, except for a room that had an airlock, and was no doubt intended for the species that didn’t breathe some sort of oxygen/nitrogen mix. The area that was intended for my size species was unremarkable, offering stalls with floor or bench options for waste, and water and wipes for cleansing, along with a separate sub-room provided with a Soup vat and mirrors. There was a small teal-coloured humanoid in there, using a tiny curry comb to smooth and then make patterns in the plush-short hair that covered all of her visible skin. Her hide? I washed my hands, trying not to stare while wondering if this was a player with a great modal, or an NPC.
The idea of asking someone who was not a player prying questions about her skin made me feel awkward, so I left. Even though all the NPCs would be either Constructs or, probably, Dio, it felt strangely intrusive to talk to them.
The meeting point I’d suggested was again next to this stage’s wall mosaic. The same gorgeous array of colour, but now I could make out figures amongst the swirls. Brown tiles resolved into a featureless human, and the silvery multi-columnar shape must be the methane-breathing species.
I searched out the third shape and, just as Silent arrived, found a small round animal almost lost in the curlicues of the mosaic. He murmured a greeting and considered the mosaic.
"The picture adds a species with each stage. Darashi, Vvv, uh, Vssf, and human so far."
"Are Type Threes called humans in The Synergis?"
[[Llura.]]
Dio rarely spoke up uninvited in conversations between Bios, so I was as much surprised by the contribution as the name.
"Is that the name Type Threes call themselves, or what other species call us?"
[[Guess,]] Dio said, with a ripple of laughter, then sank through the mosaic.
"I’m willing to bet it’s not something complimentary, then," I said to Silent.
"I see you’ve a quirky sort of Cycog. Have you noticed their personalities often match their names?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Cycogs people have called HAL are very calm and often unhelpful. The Datas are Pinocchios all lit up with curiosity. The GLaDOSes ooze passive-aggressive snark."
"Two out of three of those personalities are liable to kill you."
"I played it safe and called mine Bishop. But it’s the sheer adaptability that makes it so difficult to believe this game doesn’t involve…something more." He laughed. "Listen to me. I’m usually one of the guild’s cynics."
"The GDG filling in the blanks concept works for personalities, though. If you called someone HAL, you’d expect at least a few pod bay door references. I liked the idea it was my mind producing this stuff in a solo GDG, but I’m far less comfortable with the idea that the players are building a full virtual experience by being fed prompts."
"I foresee several dozen theses on perceived reality, if that’s the way this game functions. But I don’t believe Ryzonart. And the Cycogs are…convincing."
"And The Synergis so alluring."
He laughed. "I’m so used to dystopias that I can’t help but look for the cracks. Is the face they’re showing us true, or something mocked up to draw us in?"
He glanced at me, frowning, and I wondered if he was also tripping over a stranger’s face to go with a familiar voice.
"Whether The Synergis is true, or just a really enjoyable game, I’m worried there’s a price," I admitted.
Silent nodded. "It does feel like a honey-baited trap. Maybe the Cycogs really are here to steal…I can’t believe I’m saying this. My Catholic upbringing stirring."
"Lan equates soul, and they cultivate Bios for their lan? If there turns out to be a theological explanation for this, well, I guess I’d be impressed by such a slick technological approach to soul-stealing."
"And then run like hell."
"By then I guess I’d be in Hell," I said, and then added: "But if this all turns out to really be Purgatory, I want another ending," and perhaps only imagined I heard a faint, now-familiar laugh.
34
progress
There was no real need to visit the party finder to add a last member to our group. A constantly changing mass of players had been forming, dissolving and reforming just opposite the mosaic, and I simply strolled over and said: "Group of four ranked 6, 7 and 8 looking for one more."
This didn’t run so smoothly as last time, since five people immediately stepped hopefully toward me. In a less personal environment, picking one and moving wordlessly on would be simple, but the mere presence of the others in the same space as me made it instantly awkward. I hesitated, then added:
"We’re likely to try and take the Challenge run in two to three sessions, with big breaks in the middle to work on zero-G in prep for the System Challenge. Looking for someone ideally to come all the way through to attempting the System Challenge."
Three of the five hesitated, then shrugged and turned back to the main group. I was left with two girls. One looked like a teen, with fantastic dark blue and snow white hair done up in a long pair of high ponytails, and a great matching skirt and jacket outfit that was right out of a magical girl anime. The second was tall and willowy and had rose tattoos everywhere visible: some of the most beautiful skin art I’d ever seen. Both of them were fully anon.
Roses glanced at Ponytails and spoke in Russian, obligingly translated by the game as: "Flip a coin?"
"Sure. Not that money exists here." Ponytails had spoken English, with a mild accent. I’d guess her to be Japanese.
"Pick a number between one and ten," I suggested. "Closest to the one I’m thinking of joins."
"One," Roses said.
"Ten."
"And I picked six," I said, with a wry smile at Roses. "Good luck with the Challenge."
"See you on The Wreck," she replied, waved, and turned back to the crowd.
"Welcome aboard," I said, sending an invite. "This is Silent, Imoenne, and Arlen. I’m Leveret."
"Nova Mori," the girl responded, as we started toward the entrance to the next stage.
I wondered if the tendency to run around anon would die away after the initial new game zerg, or if names and ranks and guilds would always be semi-secret. Well, if Nova was the same rank as me, I’d at least not feel like I was holding the group back. But I’d been giving plenty of thought to how to get through this Challenge series without having to go and gain levels—and without losing my bet with Dio.