CD Chapter Eighteen (Patreon)

When she woke, she was stiff, and she groaned as she tried to stretch. The fabric of the robe she still wore was tangled around her, and she struggled to sit up. Blearily, she glanced around, her eyes catching on what looked like a piece of paper on the bedside table. When she tried to pick it up, her fingers slid over more of the smooth, plasticky surface everything in the house was made of, though the image helpfully tilted and turned toward her.

More medicine and water on the way. Hold on.

A quiet whirr came from near the door, and she stared as a small robot rolled in on caterpillar tracks. It was, of course, completely white, except for a friendly smile made of green light on its ‘face’. It held a platter containing a little paper cup and a glass of what looked like water.

Ava looked up. “Why didn’t you just tell me that yourself?”

There was no answer, and Ava asked more tentatively, “Amy?”

Nothing.

Then a figure appeared on the wall opposite the bed. Amy, looking slightly frazzled. “Sorry,” she said, offering a distracted smile, “you wouldn’t think an AI could get overwhelmed, but… I only have so much processing power, and even though it’s a lot, just watching everything that happens in Veritas is-” She broke off, shaking her head, and when she did, the stray hairs and dark circles under her eyes vanished, leaving her looking as perfectly put together as usual. “You don’t care about all that, though so-”

“Who says?” Ava asked. Her cheekbones warmed as she realized she’d spoken aloud, and Amy blinked at her, surprised. Still, she’d meant it, and she set her shoulders, pulling at the sagging neckline of the robe. “Who says I don’t care?”

Amy looked away. “It’s not like I’m actually a friend, or even a real person, for that matter.” Her tone was briefly bitter, but she shrugged it off, her usual bright smile returning. “Now, you need to take that medicine. We have a lot to get through today, starting with contacting Tessle. I’ve been sending her messages from your phone, but I think she’s starting to get suspicious that I’m not actually you, even though I’ve been totally grumpy and rude to her.” She winked teasingly at Ava.

Ava picked up the little cup and threw back the two pills inside without even looking at them. She swallowed them dry, but chased them with a gulp of the water before standing up. Stalking over to the wall, she pointed a finger at Amy.

“First, I may be grumpy, but I’m not rude. Second, as far as I’m concerned, you’re just as much a person as anyone else. You certainly act like one, even though you’re a little ditzy, and I’ve interacted with a lot of NPCs. Even in VO, if you watch, you can pick out the spots where they fall back on their programmed scripts, and you never do that. You’re obviously just making it up as you go along, just like every other damned person I’ve ever met.”

It was Ava’s turn to look away, as she finished up, losing the momentum she’d gathered during the first part of her speech. “And I thought we were… maybe… becoming friends. Maybe not there yet, but, yeah.” She shrugged, then grabbed at her robe as it tried to slip off her right shoulder again.

It was the first time she’d ever seen Amy truly speechless, and if Ava had been less embarrassed herself, she would have been able to enjoy it more. The two women stood there in silence until the little robot said, “Breakfast is ready, Ava,” and rolled out the door.

Ava’s mouth opened and closed, and then she laughed. “Did you make it do that?”

Amy grinned back at her, though the expression was indefinably more genuine and vulnerable than her usual carefree persona. “Only kind of. I programmed the house to start breakfast when you woke up, and told B.T. there to tell you when it was ready.”

Ava sniffed as the heavenly aroma of fresh bread and bacon wafted into the room through the open door. Her stomach growled loudly. “You,” she said firmly, standing, “are my hero. But I still need you to leave while I get dressed.”

Amy laughed and vanished.

There were only two doors in the room, so Ava opened the one that didn’t lead back into the main area of the house and found a walk-in closet filled with clothes. There were gowns, graphic tees, cardigans, suits, jeans, satin slacks, leather pants, and something she was pretty sure was garb for going to a medieval faire. Every bit of it looked like it would fit her perfectly, but she grabbed a pair of pull-on yoga pants and a long, soft tunic with a draped neckline and stretchy, loose sleeves. There were even underclothes and socks in a sort of inset closet cabinet with several little drawers.

Once she was dressed, she followed her nose to the kitchen table. The place now looked like it was part of a log cabin, complete with rustic furniture and decor. Past the checkered curtains hanging by the ‘windows’, she saw cows and chickens wandering a grassy field. Amythyst - because as far as Ava was concerned, she wasn’t Amy Landon - wore a farm wife's long skirt and apron, and an artful dusting of flour traced one cheekbone.

“What is this?” Ava demanded, laughing in spite of herself.

The AI grinned, flipping a pancake neatly in a pan and setting it back on a virtual stove on her side of the wall. “I bought this place because I… needed someplace to feel real. But it gets a little boring when it’s the same all the time, so I like to mix it up. I figured bacon, eggs, and pancakes called for a little down-home decor.”

Ava shook her head, pulling out a chair that looked like it was made from rough-hewn sticks. She sat a little gingerly, because the thing looked like it might collapse under her weight, but of course it was actually a sturdy, modern chair, and a surprisingly comfortable one at that. The table appeared to have a gingham tablecloth to match the curtains, though Ava’s fingers told a different story. The white plate, silverware, and heaping helping of eggs and bacon with a side of perfect pancakes and a bowl of cut fruit were all real, however, and she dug in with enthusiasm, using her left hand a little awkwardly. The medicine was taking the edge off her pain, and she was ravenous.

The table was designed so only half of it was on Ava’s side, and Amythyst pulled out the chair on her side and sat, snagging a plate that matched Ava’s except that it didn’t have any bacon on it. Amythyst saw her notice, and shrugged. “Amy’s been a vegetarian since she was a teenager, and even though I know none of my food is real, and that I don’t even actually need to eat, it helps keep me grounded.”

Ava nodded, closing her lips over another bite of pancake and a million questions about what it was like to be an AI. Obviously, Amythyst ‘remembered’ being Amy, and she was struggling with how to reconcile her reality with what she had become. Ava doubted that anything she could say would help, so they just ate in companionable silence until Ava felt her stomach protest at such a sudden influx of rich food after months of eating little except fruits, vegetables, and the occasional ready-to-eat meal.

She eyed the rest of the food longingly, but put her fork down with a click, the sharp sound belying the wooden appearance of the table. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. “I’m stuffed,” she said, resolutely ignoring the last slice of bacon gleaming at her from its platter.

Amythyst nodded, putting down her own fork, though it and the rest of the remains of her breakfast disappeared without a trace. She looked a little nervous as she said, “Are you ready to finish our talk from yesterday, then? Or do you want to contact Tess first?”

Ava sat up too quickly, bumping her injured hand against the edge of the table. “Ouch!” She rubbed at the hand gingerly, though she avoided the still-slightly-swollen area with the fracture.

Amythyst stood, frowning. “Do you want me to call Felicia? She checked you over while you were sleeping and said it was a hairline fracture, and should heal up in a month or so if you can avoid using it, but she may have missed something.”

Thinking about the frighteningly competent woman, Ava shook her head. “I doubt she missed anything. I’m just clumsy. I probably need a sling or something to help remind me to be careful with it.”

“On the way,” Amythyst said instantly, and Ava blinked.

“Already?”

Amythyst grinned and made the swirling motion with her finger that produced tiny fireworks. “Cosmic powers. Now, talk or Tess?”

Ava sighed. “We can talk later. I really just need to know exactly what it is you want me to do.” She narrowed her eyes at Amythyst. “No beating around the bush, no little white lies, and no leaving things out that you think I don’t need to know. I need to know everything.”

Amythyst chortled, and spoke in a plummy English accent, “In the beginning, there was void-”

Ava shoved her chair back, muttering, “Smart ass.” She pulled out her screen, which she’d shoved in her pocket after she got dressed. “Can you unlock this thing so I can make a call, or what?”

“Nope,” Amythyst said cheerfully. When Ava glared, the country kitchen faded, and a rain of twinkling stars began to fall around a door that Felicia hadn’t pointed out in her tour yesterday. Ava looked from the door to the AI, and Amythyst just lowered one eyelid in the slowest wink ever. Sighing, Ava crossed the room and opened the door.

She gaped. “What is that?”

The room looked like a stereotypical mad scientist’s laboratory, except that instead of a metal cadaver tray, the thing in the middle of the room was a pod. It was clearly a VR pod, but not like any Ava had ever seen before, even in advertisements for the newest models. It was smooth and vaguely ovoid, and instead of the simple, flat seals around the door Ava was used to, the rubber was thick and clearly meant to be airtight.

Ava looked over her shoulder, jumping as she realized that Amythyst was now standing ‘beside’ her, in the wall next to the doorway. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a lab coat with suspicious stains on it. She was also sucking on a lollipop, and when she saw she had Ava’s attention, she pulled it out of her mouth with a pop.

“That,” Amythyst said proudly, tilting the glistening red lollipop, “is a long-term immersion pod. Amy was working on it with her fiance when she… was injured. He managed to finish it, and it’s what Carl ordered for his house.”

Ava ignored the strange, sinking feeling in her stomach at the mention of a fiance, and stepped into the room, trailing her fingers over the smooth white surface of the pod. Lights pulsed in her fingertip’s wake, and when she took her hand away, golden circles pulsed and faded.

“The surface is made with the same material I used in my house. Bridge came up with it, of course.” Amythyst shook her head in bemused admiration. “It’s ridiculously expensive to make right now, though we’re hopeful we can bring the price down fairly quickly. It’s durable, needs very little energy to run, and instantly reacts to input. You can interact with any part of the pod, checking for vital signs, running stats, or just making it look however you want. I have to admit I’m kind of fond of the egg motif, though.”

She waved her hand, lollipop vanishing, and the laboratory shifted to the inside of an enormous nest, with the pod as its primary occupant. “When you close the lid, it can be entirely opaque, show the face of the occupant, or turn completely clear.” As she spoke, the pod followed along, and when the surface became transparent, Ava could see that the base was filled with wires, tubes, and electronic components of all kinds.

“I like the half-and-half.” Another wave, and the lab was back, though it was a little less mad-scientist and more real-scientist. The pod shifted once more, so the base was solid white, while the top became all but invisible, revealing the bed inside.

Ava tilted her head, brows drawing down in confusion. “You said it was long-term immersion, but the bed just looks like a… sling? It can’t provide any haptic feedback, and it doesn’t look like it would be easy to move in, either.”

Her VR pod, and every other pod she’d ever seen, had a bed made of some material that allowed the user to sink into it, and slip their feet and hands into gloves and boots that sensed even minute movements of the muscles. When the user moved, even a little, the pod picked up on it, and, in turn, it fed back all the sensations of moving through a world, though the precision of those sensations depended a lot on the model.

Ava bit her lip, reminded of the pod Dominic had no doubt sold or broken down into parts by now. Amythyst saw the look and reached out as if to touch Ava’s arm, though she had to stop at the dividing wall.

“In all the excitement, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “I also hired a few people to go out and retrieve your pod. They took it to a shop to be repaired. Felicia checked it over after she left you yesterday, and she and the tech agree that it’s fixable. Some of the wires those idiots cut will have to be replaced, and there are a few cracks in the shell, but those early models were relatively simple, and that means there are fewer really delicate bits to break.”

Ava’s eyes burned, and she drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Amythyst’s hand moved toward her again, before clenching into a fist and falling to her side. Clearing her throat, the AI walked around to another wall, pointing as a rectangle of light appeared on the side of the pod. A small hatch popped open, revealing a plastic cap about the size of the gas cap on an old car.

“When the user gets in, the bed, or sling,” she shot a little half-grin at Ava, “drops down as the interior of the pod fills with biogel. The gel will keep you suspended in the center of the pod, and it can detect even minute amounts of bioelectricity. Thanks to Bridge, the headset has also been massively improved. It interacts to effectively ‘read your mind’ and send back ‘memories’ of the exact sensory input you should be experiencing. Instead of having to use your eye movement and focus, combined with subvocalization to select things in your Heads Up Display to use skills and spells, all you’ll need to do is think about them. The result is an almost completely realistic immersion into your own mindspace.”

A tray slid out of the side of the pod, and the headset resting there was significantly different from Ava’s old pullover, which was a curved lens that fit over the face to track expression and eye movement. While the outside of this one was still smooth and curved, there were a dozen or more glittering spots and tiny electrodes that would actually rest against her face, and whose purpose she couldn’t imagine. There were also seals around the outside, like those on swimming goggles.

“You’ll wear a special bodysuit and this mask. The mask attaches to a hose to deliver oxygen while you’re submerged, and trust me, you won’t even realize you’re not just breathing like normal.” Amy hurried to reassure Ava, when she saw the look on her face.

Ava was less than happy about the idea of going swimming while in a state of altered consciousness, but she had promised to do this, and Amythyst was obviously certain it would work. “What makes this ‘long-term’, though? I get that it’ll provide a more realistic experience, I guess, but the player still needs to eat and, um, use the restroom.”

Amythyst nodded. “That’s true, but only partially. This pod is designed with, ah, plumbing that can attach to the suit to carry away waste. The biogel cycles through constantly, cleaning out any shed skin cells or lost hair. Removing all body hair before entry is recommended, but not required, and there’s a cap that goes over the hair and under the face mask.

“The gel itself can also be both ingested and breathed, and getting that to work took Bridge-level intelligence, I can tell you. It provides all essential nutrition, while also being oxygen saturated. Of course, we also monitor blood chemistry pretty much constantly, and could resolve any deficiencies through an IV, though that hasn’t been needed since the early stages of development.”

Ava’s eyes were narrowed, and she was putting missing puzzle pieces together in her mind. “You think,” she said, slowly, “that Carl Landon has, or plans to, put Amy Landon in one of these.”

Every hint of enthusiasm vanished from Amythyst’s face, and she was instantly serious. “I do. Creating this pod was Bridge’s baby, while Amy had her own project. She called it the Coma Protocol, and it was meant to use VR to reach people who were locked in comatose or catatonic states. It could even work as a kind of prosthetic for the brain, allowing people with physical damage to support or replace any impaired or missing functions, at least while they were in the pod. The gel also stimulates the muscles of the body, among other things, preventing muscle atrophy. It can even help with physical therapy in patients who are aware but need to learn to walk or talk again.”

Amythyst’s voice filled with frustration. “The worst part of all of this is that both the pod and the Coma Protocols were in beta when I - Amy - was hit by the car. Bridge begged Carl to allow her to try them on Amy, and he flat-out refused. Said no one was trying anything experimental on his baby girl. Bridge, of course, never could take no for an answer to anything she felt strongly about, and tried to sneak around behind Carl’s back to get Amy into a pod, at least when Carl wasn’t around. When he found out, that was when he pulled Amy from the hospital and built his own hospital suite for her. He even banned Bridge from visiting, and when she kept pushing, threatening to sue him for access, that’s when he announced that Amy was dead.”

There was nothing playful about the AI now. “I know Carl Landon, and I know Bridge. They’re the two most stubborn people in the world, and they both love Amy more than anything else. If Carl thought there was a chance Bridge would succeed in taking whatever he had left of Amy away from him, he would do anything to prevent that.”

“Including falsifying her death,” Ava murmured, shaking her head.

Amythyst nodded. “And damn the consequences. But now he’s been forced to step down as CEO of Veritas Corp, and Amy hasn’t woken up, at least not completely. The pods and the Coma Protocols are out of beta, hundreds of people have used them, and they’ll soon be available to a strictly limited market on a first-come, first-serve basis. Carl Landon spoke up first, and when the pods roll off the assembly line in four weeks, he’ll be first-served.”

Ava’s eyes were locked on the pod. “So, I have four weeks to heal a broken bone, learn whatever it is I need to know to pass as Ava Shaw, recover from getting implants, and learn how to use this fancy new pod.”

Amythyst’s green eyes were bright as she nodded. “You up for the challenge?”

Ava shrugged and picked up the mask. “Whether I am or not, it’s what I have to do, so,” she bared her teeth at the AI, “I’m going to do it.”