Reality Heist - Geordi Riker (ready player one ebook TXT) 📗

hole, from which there is no escaping. Every time I tried, it felt like I was in quicksand, getting sucked in. It felt like if I didn't try to escape, I would be trapped in your head forever. I tried to read your mind before I introduced myself, because for all I knew, Jesse was just talking to some random girl he had found.”
“Yeah, because I do that all the time,” Jesse snorts.
Chase shrugs, “Always a first time, my friend,always a first time. Anyways, do we eat in or just leave?”
“I'm game for a meal, especially if the Black is paying,” Ky grins, “Do you think they'll have food that isn't nearly as burned as it is everywhere else?”
“That's the beauty of the rich, Ky,” Jesse replies, “They pay the big bucks to have their food almost as fresh as if you had shot it down an hour ago.”
Ky reaches down beside her, “Really, do you think they might need some help getting some fresh game? We haven't been anywhere near the country for ages.”
“Actually,” Chase interjects, “From what I can tell, the mansion we've got is out in the country, with a solid 48 acres of forest full of game.”
“What's the catch?”
“No idea. But if you're going in, at least tell someone. And use the Link to make sure none of us are anywhere near you.”
“Aw, but that takes all the fun out it.”
“Too bad,” everybody choruses.
It seems like they get onto this sort of subject a lot. Looking around the table, I can't help but feel a little left out. Even though Jesse claims that he's only been sliding for a little while, everybody's already gotten used to him.
“It's not like we can't just give them a transfusion of Amaar's blood or something,” Ky protests.
“Yeah, that takes care of shots to the head quite well, don't you agree?” Chase snarls.
“Do we have to talk about this now?” Jesse complains, “I'm starved. Or does everybody forget where we just spent the last five days?”
With murmurs of ascent, Skip signals a nearby waiter to take our orders.

An hour later, with the last plate cleared away, Jesse shoots Chase a sour look when Chase announces how we would be getting to the mansion. “No. Not happening.”
“Come on, Jesse, it's not like it's a flying death trap or anything.”
“Come on Chase,” He mimics his voice perfectly, “It's only a Chaser '95.” He changes his voice back to normal, “Need I even remind you of what happened last time? The thing exploded, while we were inside!” He looks around the table, exasperated. No one shows any sympathy, and his eyes zero in on me, “Come on, Brandee, help me out here, you said you were a computer whiz. Do you think that thing is actually safe?”
I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, “I dunno. It looks pretty cool though. I don't mind.”
“Seriously?”
Amaar laughs out loud all of a sudden. Jesse's head whips around to face him, “What's so funny?” he demands, suspiciously.
Amaar shrugs, “Just remembering how it was you that suggested we take that bucket of bolts in the first place last time. I told you the thing was leaking fumes all over the place, but did you listen? It's your own fault for choosing the death trap of the entire lot.”
“Besides,” Chase interjects, “We're on the fifth floor, on the private balcony. Do you really think they're going to make us ride in some piece of junk they pulled out of the scrapyard?”
“Yes.”
“Overruled. Let's go.” Skip's voice leaves no room for argument. We all get up and make our way to the stairwell located beside the elevator, Skip leading the way. Me and Jesse bring up the rear.
“Thanks for all your support,” Jesse mutters.
“Hey, it's not my fault. I want to see what it's like. You guys have all taken a hovercraft before, right? Well I haven't yet.”
“Really? What year were you from again?”
“Two thousand twelve.”
“Wow, we pulled you out in the nick of time then, right? I mean, what with that Mayan calender thing coming up and all.”
“I don't believe in that stuff.”
“What do you believe in?”
“Doesn't matter. The world's not going to end during my lifetime, let the next sucker deal with it.”
“Wow, do my ears deceive me or do I hear the motto of a cult that will be up and running in a few years?” Chase asks, getting involved in the discussion.
“Huh?”
“Actually,” Jesse grins, “It already exists in the here and now, or at least in some time-line it does. Maybe not in those words, per say, but still, that ideology probably is used somewhere, explaining away anything they might not really care for. Chase, didn't you once end up pretending to be a priest one time?”
Chase snorts, “Yeah, Catholic, not the crap you're spouting.”
“Why were you a priest?” I ask.
Jesse grins, “We got caught in the biggest pile of a mess you could imagine. Picture this, Skip in the hospital, Ky AWOL when she hears that Amaar's in a fanatically anti- Muslim jail, Dutch drunk as a skunk, and me about to be set up in the electric chair. Chase is the only one on the loose, the only one operating in the dark. They strap me into the chair, and call for the person to give me my last rites. Who steps into the door? Not the old man who had taken my last confession yesterday, but Chase, in all his glory, looking like he had graduated from seminary ten years ago and was living it up as a poor priest from a small town nearby. He waddles in, pats my hands, and then suddenly collapses and starts having a seizure.
“Now, you've got to know, that these guys are fanatical with Catholicism. To see one of their priests like this caused all sorts of a ruckus. They were about to kill me on the spot when Chase suddenly sits up, eyes rolled into the back of his head. He stares unseeingly, finding the head guy's face, and says...”
“'Thus says the Lord Almighty. Ye who have not sinned may be the first to pull the lever. Do not lie before the Lord your God, who brought you out of bondage'.” Chase finishes as we reach the top landing. Everybody zips their jackets tight, so me and Jesse follow suit. Skip gives us all a quick glance before yanking the heavy door open.
Gusts of wind howl into the landing, and the seven of us brusquely step outside and make our way to the centre of the roof, where a huge hovercraft remains at rest, with a ramp leading to a large hatch. When it flew above us earlier, it looked a lot sleeker, cooler. Now it just looks like a pile of spare parts someone found lying around and had the brilliant idea of making a flying machine out of it all. As we walk up the ramp, a sudden hiss of steam releases in Jesse's face. Growling, he shoves a hand to protect his face, while taking a quicker step. I get a little bit in my face too, and the steam makes my eyes water. The air is heavy with the stench of diesel and spent fuel, you can almost see the fumes coming out of several ports along the hull. In several places, the steel is darker than the rest of the light gray, no pattern and no name.
“Are we sure this thing can fly?” I ask Chase, walking ahead of us.
Chase shrugs, “See for yourself. We were just dining at a four star restaurant, you know.”
“It''ll fly,” Jesse mutters, “But it's not going to be so much of a picnic lunch as a hold-onto-your-seats-for-dear-life-if-you-want-to-live idea.”
Chase casts a baleful eye at him, “Are you never a pessimist, or is this attitude of yours ingrained so deeply that you can't give us a little flicker of faith?”
“It won't fly,” Amaar states from behind us. Granted, We Almost Die

Three hours later sees us still stuck on the roof, Amaar helping the mechanics get the Chaser in the air. Even thought the outside looks like junk, and the anti-gravitational force propulsion system, or just an engine if you want to get it overly simplified, isn't working, the place is still pretty cool. Jesse's already taught me the rules of Kagay No Ha, and we've already killed the last hour with pretend battles. Since I actually prefer violent video games- way better graphics and plots- I can actually hold my own. Until we reached the underwater battles that Jesse somehow lead us to. Dimension two, where he's from, is completely covered with water, and everybody lives beneath the surface in giant bubbles. I asked him if he ever ran into any Gungans, but he didn't get it. Anyways, as the son of one of the higher up nobility, Jesse's been trained from a young age to protect the city from giant sea monsters and invading armies.
“You're on the front lines of a group of Drifters. You are the leader, and they don't exactly respect you since you just transferred from an allied city. This is your first real crisis as their leader.”
“Way to put the pressure on,” I growl, “What are Drifters again?”
“The Navy SEALS of your dimension,” Chase calls from a couch on the opposite side of the rec room slash common area.
“Oh, okay.”
“Anyways, it's your first crisis mission. A Ribaiasan has entered the defensive perimeter, and is making it's way towards one of the four cables that keep your city from floating away. Failure is not an option.”
“What the hack is a Ribaiasan?”
“A giant monster that enjoys eating little people for snacks before eating others of its own kind.”
“Have we spotted it yet?”
“No visual confirmation, but it is most certainly headed towards you, according to radar.”
“I wait until it shows up, and shoot it with a harpoon.”
“You just shot the King's beloved mount, Yumichika. Don't be so reckless.”
“Fortunately, the harpoon bounces off of Yumichika's extremely thick hide,” I retort quickly.
“Nice save,” Jesse grins, “But the harpoon bounces off and stabs one of the King's buddies.”
“I decide to apologize later at his funeral and then tell the king that he shouldn't be out during a crisis as dire as the one I'm in in the first place.”
“The Ribaiasan has just appeared, at you six o' clock.”
“I send my squad ahead of me, since I've noticed the mutinous glares they've been shooting my way.”
“They rebel and turn their weapons on you.”
“Then I blast them all with my telekinesis.”
“You're telekinetic?” Ky sits up from where she was lounging on the floor, doing some sort of puzzle, “That's so cool.”
“I was kidding. I don't actually.”
“Cheater.” Jesse chides, “Okay, say that you had a random burst of telekinesis. The rest of the Drifter squad is dead. The Ribaiasan is coming closer. All you have left is you