Reality Heist - Geordi Riker (ready player one ebook TXT) 📗
- Author: Geordi Riker
Book online «Reality Heist - Geordi Riker (ready player one ebook TXT) 📗». Author Geordi Riker
“The Black?” I interrupt.
She shoots me a look of annoyance, but nods, Yes, that is what you call them. They have tasked themselves with protecting the other realms, being the only realm that is completely aware of the existence of the other realms. However, they are unable to visit the other realms for extended periods of time, due to the inability of the other realms to cope with the unusual Pressure that Tier Kay Nam Limye residents, or Shihoin as they are often called, emit despite their best attempts to hold it in.
That is why they take advantage of the beings in the other Realms that have sufficient Pressure to withstand the damages sustained from traveling between time and space within their realms. Beings like yourself and your companions.
“Protect the other realms from what? We just steal stuff for them.”
You obtain the objects that have devolved over time into dark forces.
“Ooh,” I say sarcastically, “Dark forces. So scary. So this is turning into a sort of Star Wars thing? The world's gonna blow up because of the Dark side.”
The glare Hiyori shoots me could kill a tree, Worse. The annihilation of one realm spells the death sentence for the others. Balance must be maintained at all costs.
“You sound like you're on their side,” I point out.
Hiyori blinks in surprise at the suggestion, caught off guard. She stares around the landscape, as if really noticing it for the first time. After a long pause, she turns her attention back to me. I am not. But I agree with their goal. I do, however, take issue with their methods of achieving that same goal
.
She glances at the sky, I have kept you here too long. The time bridge is collapsing, you must leave immediately. She stands up, If you still do not believe me, insist that you assist on the retrieval. Take a moment to really look at the object you have been assigned to recover. Ask about what happens to that object when it has been recovered. Both answers will be all of the evidence you need to understand that what I am saying is true.
Her voice is getting further and further away, as if she's moving away from me. Buildings blur together to form one solid mass of colour with the sky. Hiyori's voice reaches me, as if traveling down a tunnel, The next time we meet will be different. Train hard and never allow another to dictate how you are to live, Brandee. No matter what comes your way, no matter what happens, remember that I am always with you. Use me and you will persevere. What you wish to protect, I will protect.
Farewell.
Frenemies
A hand taps my shoulder, causing me to turn around, blinking rapidly. I think the security guard can tell I'm disoriented and, drawing the wrong conclusion asks, “I'm gonna need you to come with me please, miss.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I follow him, looking around me to place where I am. People are milling about, gazing at sculptures and paintings. Their clothes are pretty normal. “Must be a seven,” I mutter to myself.
The guard looks behind him, “What was that?'
My eyes widen, “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.” I look around again, “Could you tell me what museum this is?”
His face scrunches up in confusion, “Museum? Kid, this is the Inner Calling Center.”
I can't help but give a small snort of laughter at the irony. Inner World, Inner Calling. Maybe someone at the switch decided to have a little bit of humor with where they sent me. Those champs. “And uh... where are you taking me?”
“Kid, you're high. I'm gonna call the cops while you go wait in the office.”
I grin at him, “No thanks. I'm not high, I promise. Some people might think that, since I have no idea where I am, but don't worry. I have random bouts of amnesia... I think. This all feels familiar, you know? Like one of those crazy deja vu things.”
“Yeah, no sorry kid, I don't buy it.” He grabs me by the arm.
I yank it away with a little too much force, knocking him off balance, “Thanks man, but no thanks.” I take off, running for the closest door.
The guard shouts at me to stop, for someone to stop me, before pulling out his radio and calling his buddies. I dodge around a group of people to almost collide with another rent-a-cop. Almost instinctively, I surround my feet with Motes to give me an extra boost. I blast past him, widening the gap between me and the other security guards giving chase. I smash head-on into a man carrying a stack of books. We both go flying, the force from the suddenly freed Motes causing the books to fly ten feet through the air before slamming into one of the guards. “Sorry!” I yell as I disentangle myself from the mess and keep on running.
I break free into the sunlight, tearing down the steps and running across the campus. This place is huge! More guards are coming from several directions. If teleporting existed, now would be a good time to use it. The Motes around me swirl, getting my hopes up, but nothing happens. Figures. I tear down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding more collisions with pedestrians. Finally, I escape the grounds, hopping on the first bus I find moments before it pulls away from the curb. I head to the back of the bus, find an empty seat, and wave at the guards as we drive past.
“Running away?”
I whirl around to find the man across the aisle from me staring. He has dark hair, deep caring eyes, and a warm smile. On his lap is a book he must have been reading. He smiles, glancing behind us at the disappearing center, “They sure don't seem too happy about it.”
I blink, “Oh, I wasn't a member.”
His head jerks slightly at this news, “Really? You came out of one of the more restricted areas. Non-members don't get that far in a tour.”
“You were watching me?”
He shrugs, “It was hard not to. You were running as if the devil himself were on your heels.”
“Yeah well, the rent-a-cop accused me of being stoned. I just wanted to prove that I wasn't.”
He laughs. “I think you got your point across.” He holds out a hand, “I'm Jason.”
I shake it, “Brandee.”
“So, you still haven't told me how you managed to get in there in the first place, Brandee.”
I shrug, trying to think of an excuse. A TV show pops up into my head. It wasn't really popular, so even if it does exist in this dimension, odds are a guy like him won't know it. “I've been having black outs lately, coming to with no memory of how I got where I am. Probably what made the guy think I was stoned.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, easing the awkward moment, “Probably.” We break off into silence for a while. The bus pulls over for a stop. The person in front of me gets up to get off, his seat immediately taken by Jason. We face each other. He smiles again, “So how long have these black outs been happening for?”
I glance up at the ceiling, pretending to try to remember. “At least four times now.”
“And you have no recollection of what happens during those blackouts?”
“Nope, it's like they don't even exist for me. It's as if no time has passed, and yet when I eventually snap out of it, I'm in a completely different place than I last remember.”
“Sounds like you're insane.”
He says it so mildly, so matter-of-factly, that I'm stunned. Noting my expression, he elaborates, “I... that came out wrong.”
“But it's still a pretty big accusation.”
He shrugs, uncomfortably, “guess what I meant to say is that you're normal?” He tries to cover up the gaffe.
I let him off the hook with a shrug, “Whatever dude.” I turn my attention back out the window. I've got to try to figure out some sort of system with the rest of the gang. Obviously, this whole Linking up is going to remain a mystery to me. I try to mimic what I had seen Jesse do, ducking my head as I close my eyes. I give up after a few moments of staring at the back of my eyelids. Why does Jesse have to make everything seem so easy? I steal a glance at Jason, who's still staring at me, his book forgotten. I glance at the title: Finding Your Inner Calling, with the words “Inner Calling” a couple font sizes bigger. A man is featured on the cover, and I blink in surprise as the same caring eyes gaze off into the distance above the same warm smile as the reader. I look between him and the cover, making sure he sees that I've noticed.
In response, he smiles again, “New in town?”
My eyebrows crease, and I'm left feeling embarrass, “You could say that.”
“You still haven't told me how you managed t get into such a secluded spot. If there's a loophole in my security, I should probably know about it.”
“Hey, man, I was serious about not knowing how I got there.” I throw my hands up in protest.
“Maybe the inner you wants you to join the center.”
I snort. “Dude, that has got to be the worst campaign slogan I have ever heard,” I let sarcasm drip into my voice, “It's great that you've got a faith, but don't drag other people into it. It's annoying.”
“You're not a believer?”
I shrug, “I know that there's someone out there pulling the strings. Whether that's God or Allah or Brahman is for you theologists to decide.”
He shakes his head, leaning forward in his seat, placing the book on the seat beside him, “You're wrong. Everyone must choose for themselves what path they will take. No one else can decide for them. And besides, Inner Calling isn't a faith, it's a discipline.”
“Oh, so you guys are into stuff like meditation and breathing exercises. I'm pretty sure Buddhism has dibs on that one.”
He laughs good-naturedly. The guy must have had major anger management issues as a kid, and probably had five psychiatrists on staff. “You sound exactly like my daughter.”
“What does she have to say about your elaborate set up back there?” I wave behind me.
“Not much. She died in a car accident five years ago.”
I blink. I'm such an idiot. “I'm sorry.”
He laughs, a different laugh than the earlier good-natured ones, “It's funny. Whenever people find out, they always say 'I'm sorry', as if it were somehow their fault she died. But it's not.”
I bite my lip, studying the floor intensely, hoping to somehow disappear into it. Why did I have to run on this bus?
“I take it then that you haven't read my book?”
“No. Like I said, the whole 'Inner Calling' thing isn't me.”
He studies me for a minute, “Actually, I think it's more you than you realize.”
“Changing tactics?” I poke back.
“I'm serious. Most people have just a tiny inkling that they don't belong. What the majority of the world doesn't realize is that those who strive to
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