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| BACK to contents: Chapter eighteen | A brief introduction to J. Staute |
THE STORY SO FAR: Kurellian and various altered beings have succeeded at recapturing Poseidon's palace from Wayar's troopers, and rescuing those trapped inside. But should reinforcements arrive from Wayar's Belphi station, the tide might turn again. Staute, the android Riki, and a defector from Wayar's troopers now seek to prevent such reinforcements for Wayar's forces, with a direct assault on Belphi itself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I recently ran across galleries of fantastic images by Layne Johnson and Jesse van Dijk (far better artists than me!) which look like they could have come out of the virtual gaming realm envisioned in this and related chapters. The Johnson links are Poxnora Illustrations, Concepts & Illustrations, and Sketches. Dijk's are to be found in this Portfolio, and include not only scenes which go well with the gaming environment described below, but some pics which seem to envision the futuristic eras I describe elsewhere in the novel, too. Check them all out for some jaw-dropping artwork! END NOTE.
While the altereds were attacking the palace, Frans, Riki, and I were taking on Belphi station-- the Org�s biggest garrison in the vicinity of Amphitritium, located on the opposite coast from where Kurellian�s rebels had launched their attack.
The troops of Belphi station had been the principal Org forces exploiting Amphitritium as an R and R post. So many of the troops we'd previously encountered were also from Belphi.
This helped the odds a bit, fortunately. I say fortunately because it turned out Belphi station had a damned Resigent in residence.
We didn't realize this until we were near the base in our flying tank. Ergo, we had to change our plans at almost the last minute.
According to Frans, our only option was for all three of us to attack the Resigent simultaneously, and first, before tackling the rest of the base. Riki agreed, and helped me program my fourth skin for the proper attack mode. Luckily Riki could do it in a split-second via shush net node; practically instantly, compared to my own dismal pace. And better optimize my suit�s offensive capacities than I could, too.
Riki surprised Frans however by suggesting that Frans pilot the tank against the Resigent, while Riki and I attacked the robot on our own at the same time. Frans's battle suit you see wasn't as stout as Riki or my fourth skin.
After some brief but intense deliberation Frans agreed-- but mostly because the tank really was a superior weapon to his own battle suit, and Frans was the most qualified of us to pilot it. And if the tank was disabled, Frans could then spring forth in his relatively fresh battle suit as a backup to continue pressing the attack on the Resigent.
Yeah, Riki's logic turned out to be impeccable here, after we organics had a chance to think it through.
The main hang up now was drawing the Resigent out immediately from the base, as close to alone as we could get him. How in the world could we do that?
This was it. We were now drawing fire from the base's automatic periphery defenses. The tank was taking them pretty well-- after all, this outer line of fire wasn't really designed to ward off the Org's own weapons turned against them, but simply to scare off the local beasts and inhabitants.
Again, I marveled at the realism of everything. It truly was more real even than the scenario room aboard the Pagnew. Sure I was hurting, and tired, and would have preferred to switch off the thing now if I could, but still I couldn't help but admire the reality of it all. In a way it seemed a shame that Ling's people had decided later to water down their virtual realities from this level. But I had to also admit I could see how easily someone could forget all this wasn't real.
Riki figured out a gambit to lure out the Resigent. He had Frans radio in his identity to the base.
Frans didn't want to do this, but after Riki explained his reasoning, again, it was hard to argue against it.
You see, Frans was now on record as a fugitive who had somehow managed to disable a Resigent to make good his escape. Therefore the Org base couldn't afford to let him escape if they discovered him in the vicinity. This meant they'd scramble possibly everything they had on hand to meet him-- and under most circumstances the local Resigent would be the element most likely to get to him first.
Sure, other forces might be right on the Resigent's tail, but the Resigent itself would be up front and alone for maybe a minute or two.
Just as we wanted.
Well, maybe just as Riki wanted, anyway. I believe me and Frans both felt about the same way-- we'd be happy if no Resigent showed up at all!
This might all just be an unbelievably realistic game, but that meant the fatigue and pain from injuries felt real too. Likewise the fear of getting more of the same. Ouch!And Frans of course didn't know it was a game. He was one of the few thousand real human minds trapped in this virtual reality and being reprogrammed to be someone else when their current character died. Poor guy! He was destined to go insane from the periodic brainwashing and never-ending manic pace of this place (chronologically it ran faster than realtime, so the game's master could see the hapless trapped players live much shorter and faster lives than his own).
Nearer to the base the automatic fire became heavier and more powerful. And according to Riki and Frans the fire wouldn't let up when the enemy forces met us, since it was so accurate it could continue to assault us even as its own troops did so at the same time. This was not good, and so we now turned away from the base.
This maneuver removed us from the automated barrage, while also possibly increased the delay we'd enjoy in the Resigent's comrades reaching the battle.
*Here it comes!* Frans cried out over the net, as he read the tank scopes.
Riki and I opened a door on the tank and leaped out into mid-air.
Once again I did my impression of a well known 20th century cartoon coyote futilely flapping his arms like wings for a few seconds, until I got the presence of mind to command my suit with the thought "Action", and get the automatic attack program to run.
It was much easier to let the suit do the driving, where anything strenuous or complex was involved.
Plus, we'd programmed the suit to coordinate with Riki and Frans's actions, which would have made things still more difficult for me to do manually.
At this point I remembered plan "B". Taking out the Resigent up front was critical to plan "A". Failing that, plan "B" was to run like hell!
If we still could, that is.
Unfortunately, there was a 'gray area' here too. That is, if we damaged the Resigent too severely, that might cause it to self-destruct with its built-in nuclear charge, and wipe out whoever was in the vicinity with it. So even if we succeeded at plan "A", we might find plan "B" still essential to our survival. Yikes!
As if the above weren't funny enough, God decided to play another joke on me in that moment.
The approaching Resigent ignored Frans's tank and Riki, and came straight at me, all weapons blazing.
The worst part of this was that unlike my previous encounter with a Resigent, this time all my suit monitors were lit up in my face plate and mental node. I could perfectly see everything happening around me.
So for almost three seconds I could see the terrible frozen grin of this high tech gargoyle coming at me, at nearly 600 miles per hour. Growing from a barely visible speck to something the size of a gargantuan man, up close.
Surrounding this grim visage was a wild kaleidoscope of fireworks and light beams of various sorts-- the firing of his weapons.
My suit went absolutely crazy here, with G force maneuvers that knocked me out cold just like I'd been hit in the head with a hammer.
It's a strange, strange experience to wake up and find yourself in the very center of a high speed bar room brawl. This sensation may even have been worse than the one which preceded it. Because as unconsciousness flows into consciousness, and you perceive the wild violence going in your flailing limbs and feelings of impact and momentum changes, at first you think you're in a nightmare, and want desperately to wake up.
Then you discover you just did wake up.
The only thing worse than this it seems, is to repeat this experience several times in a row. Which I did of course, as my suit found it necessary to play with high G forces again several more times. Agh!
When my suit finally let me come to and stay there, it took me a minute or so to fully get back my bearings.
I figured that surely with all three of us working in concert we'd disabled the Resigent by now.
But not only had we not disabled the Resigent, but now there were two Resigents on the scene. And Frans was screaming something about a third Resigent on the way.
This was not good.
I was still a little befuddled, so it was hard for me to make sense of my suit displays. I called to Riki for an update and maybe instructions on what to do next.
Riki began to answer, then was cut off as our comm link was covered up in static.
My mind cleared a bit more, and I realized from my scanners that I was a far piece away from the action now. My indicators showed I'd expended some energy via my Warrantea harness and maneuvers, but was still relatively undamaged and in possession of sufficient power to continue fighting.
Damn. I was hoping to find a good reason to retreat!
My mind cleared up a bit more, and I realized Riki and Frans were both fighting one-on-one with a Resigent apiece! Yikes! This wasn't the plan at all!
Even worse, Frans had been wrong about there being a third Resigent incoming. My scanners showed not just a third, but a fourth too, not far behind it!
Double yikes!
If there was ever a time to retreat, this was definitely it!
But I couldn't contact the others-- my link was just filled with static.
Jamming. Somehow the Org had figured out how to jam our links! And decided to surprise us with a whole big bunch of Resigents!
Damn it all to hell!
I had to get Riki and Frans outta there! This was turning into a real meat grinder! But how to do it?
I couldn't just set my suit to attack mode and try to help Riki and Frans-- it had already failed to handle just one Resigent in attack mode, and surely couldn't handle two! Plus, going straight to Riki and Frans would just give the other two Resigents time to reach us too, and then it'd all be over.
Maybe I should turn and fight the third Resigent? But again, my suit had failed to win against the first Resigent just moments ago. At least, it had failed in automatic mode. I could try manual mode, maybe? No! That was suicide for sure! I just wasn't good enough at it to chance it!
And besides, if I couldn't kill the third Resigent immediately, about a minute or two later I'd be fighting not only it but the fourth Resigent too!
This was a no win situation for sure.
Could I somehow just whiz through at high speed and snatch Riki and Frans from the fray, and get away? No way. Frans was still in his tank, and even if he hadn't been, I didn't have nearly the propulsion power to grab both him and Riki and whisk them away like that.
God! What could I do? Was I going to have to abandon them?
No! I couldn't stand that thought!
Damn it! Whatever I did, all the Resigents would know it at the same time I did, because of their own scanners. There was no way to surprise any of them now.
Or was there?
Was there a way to take the most suicidal looking maneuver and turn it somehow to my advantage? This would mean attacking the third and fourth Resigents head on. Maybe the Pagnew could help? No. Couldn't contact them!
But wait a minute! I was forgetting this was all just a simulation! Riki and I were still onboard the Pagnew-- we were just mind-linked into this virtual reality somehow. And Ling and the others were monitoring all this, right?
Perhaps we couldn't communicate directly with the Pagnew inside the simulation, but if they were monitoring the action taking place here, maybe there was an indirect way to contact them?
But if so, what could they do to help us?
Could they do anything at all?
And if they could, what? What would we want them to do?
Well, they'd written us into the Sarum script-- maybe they could write in something else too? Or at least write us out of this scene, somehow?
Damn! I didn't have time for this! Didn't have time to figure all this out! The third and fourth Resigents were almost here!
I flew over to a nearby field and used the lasers of my Warrantea harness to burn a message into it, in letters sixty feet tall. Surely even the virtual Pagnew could scan it from its imaginary orbit, if necessary. But I figured they wouldn't have to. I believed they could see it almost through my own eyes. I hoped they could, anyway.
I wrote "Ling! Help us! Script it!".
I needed to write more, but my scanners warned me the third Resigent was almost on me, and I had to internally order "action" instead.
It was black out time again. Maybe for the last time I thought, as the renewed violence pulled the blood from my brain once more, and everything went dark.
My consciousness flared up again, just for an instant, and I recognized the suit's internal alarms going off. Things looked bad for the home team. Then darkness descended again.
When I woke up the next time, everything was still and quiet.
The sky was clear. But something was on my back. Correction: I was on my back. Laying on the ground. Looking up at the sky.
Uh oh! If the two Resigents had knocked me out of the sky, I was done for! They'd pounce on me any minute and finish me off!
I started to jump to my feet, and almost blacked out again-- this time from pain instead of G forces, though.
I was obviously hurt. Exactly how and where though I wasn't sure. It seemed I was hurting all over.
It even hurt to turn my head from side to side. Felt like I'd wrenched my neck or something. And it seemed like it took all my strength to move anything at all.
As the last of the fuzziness left my thinking, I realized it'd be easier to use my node and suit visuals to examine my status. I recalled now that if the suit had stood down from attack mode, the immediate danger to myself must be minimal. But where was everybody?
Oh no. The Resigents must have knocked me down, and then moved on to kill Riki and Frans.
Again I tried to get up before thinking about it. And again multiple agonies stopped me.
For the first time since awaking, I began to examine my suit indicators in earnest.
There were no airborne enemies in the vicinity that I could tell.
My scanners couldn't see far enough to tell Riki and Frans's fates though. Not from the ground.
My attention returned to my own status. The Warrantea harness was completely dead. No power. Running the harness off suit power would leave me without any reserves. There was some suit damage too, but it wasn't overwhelming; it'd be fixed in a matter of minutes by automated systems.
The biological data was a bit less optimistic. I was banged up pretty thoroughly inside the suit, despite the fact nothing had actually penetrated the fourth skin. Just the violent maneuvering and various impacts with Resigents or whatever were the cause.
I was exhausted, badly bruised, sprained in spots, and even had a torn ligament or two in one leg and arm-- and possessed little more than minimal self-defense capabilities now.
If the suit could operate on minimal power drain for a couple days, it and the Warrantea harness could both be good as new at the end of that time. However, it'd take at least twice that long for me to heal up and rest up completely, even given the fabulous medical facilities onboard the Pagnew. I learned that the suit was plying me with a pretty stiff pain killer, even now-- so the significant pain I was feeling was just the tip of the iceberg compared to what could come normally.
I guess I was lucky to still be alive. But hellfire, there was probably a lot more work to do, still!
I tried contacting Riki again, and noticed my comm link seemed to have been switched off completely for some reason. Huh? That was odd. Could the battle have somehow knocked it off-line? It now came on again automatically though, as I sent my message.
Boy was I happy to hear Riki respond! Even if at first he sounded a little goofy.
*Jerry, Frans and I are completing the pillage of the base stores. Are you in need of assistance?*
*Huh? What happened to the Resigents you were fighting?*
*You do not remember?*
*No.*
*What is your status, Jerry?*
*I'm hurtin', and my suit's screwed up some, but basically I'm OK. How about you and Frans? I was afraid you guys were going to get hurt by those Resigents--* then I remembered the third and fourth Resigents!
*Riki, Riki! You guys have to get out of there! There's two more Resigents heading your way! They just went through me like a knife through butter! I tried to stop them but--*
Riki was interrupting over the net.
*Jerry, my scanners show no new Resigents in the area.*
*But they're here! Or they were, anyway. I blacked out after I sic'ed my suit on them, and now I don't see them anywhere either.*
*Jerry, are you referring to the two Resigents which approached earlier from your vector?*
*Yeah. I think so.*
*And you do not recall what occurred afterwards?*
Oh, damn it. Was I acting stupid again? It seemed like every other time I turned around here, I was either embarrassing myself or discovering I was about half a step behind everyone else!
*No, Riki, I don't. I can't help it. I was blacked out from my suit maneuvers.*
*We are doing well Jerry. The Resigent threat has been neutralized. The base was virtually unoccupied but for the two Resigents. It also held few supplies. Frans and I are compiling a mobile store for the rebels from what remains. I will update your missing information once we rejoin you. Is that adequate?*
*Uh, yeah, I guess so.*
*Jerry, I am going to accelerate your repairs from here via remote command. Is that acceptable to you?*
*Yeah. OK.*
Riki then rattled off a lengthy series of numbers and letters like a verbal machine gun, which meant nothing to me, but apparently meant something to my suit. In another minute I was having trouble keeping my eyes open-- the bastard had had me sedated! I realized this, as I fell asleep yet again...
Boy was I mad when I later discovered Riki had waited two days before letting me wake up again!
It turned out he was worried I might have been addled in the attack and possibly further injure myself, since I claimed no memory of events.
So he'd had my suit sedate me and run a complete physical on me, as well as work to better heal me up over the next few days. Oh yeah, and Riki had done this even as he also came by and picked me up, and carried me like a sack of potatoes back to Amphitritium, to confab with Poseidon and Kurellian and the rest.
Wasn't this great? I got to show my limp backside to everybody (including all those gorgeous nymphs!), while hanging over Riki's shoulder, as he explained how I'd been knocked foolish by a passing Resigent.
How humiliating.
But it'd basically been the truth.
Except that Riki had a strange twist to it all. He explained to me some things of which I had no recall whatsoever.
According to my suit's oddly spotty memory and the sparse communications he'd received from me during that period, Riki surmised that something along the lines of the following had occurred...
In my encounter with the first Resigent, my suit in auto attack mode had inflicted some small damage to the killer robot, and forced it to retreat from its focused attack on me. Once I'd moved out of a certain range, the robot had turned upon Riki, who was then able to disable it after a long and protracted struggle.
A second Resigent had appeared on the scene, preventing Frans from helping Riki to dispatch the first more quickly. Frans in his tank managed to damage his Resigent too, before being forced to abandon the disintegrating vehicle. Frans continued fighting the damaged Resigent after leaving the tank in his battle suit, receiving occasional aid from Riki, who was gradually winning his own Resigent fight.
Riki sensed the arrival of the third and fourth Resigents only after I'd begun engaging them.
Riki's own data certainty began getting spotty too at this point, since these events were occurring at the far range of his sensors, and so had to be supplemented after the fact by my own suit's weirdly addled memory record.
Riki had learned that I'd burned out that message to Ling for help, in the field (I remembered that part myself). Then I'd put my suit in automatic attack mode, to face the third Resigent (I remembered that too).
There Riki noted an extraordinary event: a great quantity of birds and insects, of many different species (including mythological), had surged in from every direction to converge immediately in front of the third Resigent's flight path, thereby knocking him out of the sky as he impacted them at high speed. The Resigent wasn't severely damaged, but his communications and maneuvering systems were sufficiently wrecked that he was programmed to walk back to the nearest Org base for repair afterwards.
Riki said the sudden direction of the wildlife in this fashion was similar to a power some altered beings in Sarum enjoyed. But as there had been no significant altered in the vicinity at the time, Riki thought it possible that Arbitur aboard the Pagnew had managed to script into the Sarum plot a way that my fourth skin could emulate this Sarum-style manipulation of the environment, to its own ends.
It sounded good to me! Though I couldn't remember a bit of it.
A bit more mystery was that Riki couldn't find any evidence of such environmental programming in my suit's memory. But never the less, we were sure it had to be something along those lines. Being as how we were isolated at the moment from direct communications with Ling, Arbitur, and the rest, more info wasn't yet available about all this.
As puzzling as this was, still it made more sense to me than my taking out a Resigent in any more direct manner.
And then there was the matter of the fourth Resigent.
Apparently my suit had barreled right through the spot formerly occupied by the third Resigent before it had been knocked down by the birds, and straight on into the path of the fourth Resigent.
This seemingly instant downing of the third Resigent by an unconfirmed cause (The birds or me or both? Or was there also an undetected altered present?) may have rendered the fourth Resigent sufficiently uncertain to have triggered a programmed response to report back to base with his information, rather than continue onwards to possible destruction.
We weren't sure of the reason, but apparently the fourth Resigent turned tail at this point.
Riki said my suit's actions too had seemed somewhat abnormal in that moment-- and when we checked the record, it seemed my auto attack mode and comm link had both been switched off, and I'd been piloting the suit on manual.
But of course I hadn't-- I'd been unconscious!
When I was adamant about my recollections-- and Arbitur and the crew later disavowed any involvement-- Riki finally just chalked it up to some aberration in the suit itself-- though such things were exceedingly rare. And considering the neat outcome, nearly impossible.
But the results were all that mattered, right?
Heck, sometimes things turned out OK in the good old 20th century too for reasons folks couldn't quite figure out. Maybe sometimes it was best not to look into such matters too closely, anyway.
[Hmmm. Something here is not right. This last thought is not my own-- either now or in the past, I'm sure. I never was one for letting something like this go too easily. This is an obvious manipulation of some sort on the memory, by someone. Although my younger alter ego seems oblivious to the notion, I suspect that Ovizatataron character had something to do with it.]
Meanwhile, Frans had had a bunch of warehouse robots load what useful material he could find at the deserted base into a couple of VTOL trucks, and set the autopilot's course to the coastal rebel outpost (he didn't have the clearance required to shift them there). On their way out, Riki and Frans did as much damage as they could to the base installations, to slow up the Org a little more when they returned. When Riki and Frans could get no response from either Kurellian's battle suit or from Amphitritium itself, they too headed for the rebel post near the coast, in the third and fourth VTOL trucks they'd taken to help evacuate the rebel troops from Amphitritium if necessary. I of course was out cold all this time in the back of one truck.
Anyway, a couple days later we were all of us at this great party Poseidon was throwing at the new rebel base of all places (the one connected to Amphitritium by the undersea tunnel)!
It was amazing how nicely Poseidon and his clan had outfitted their part of the caves in just 48 hours!
Poseidon had already decided to implement a proposal by Kurellian that he construct a new city in the honeycomb of the seabed tunnels, rather than relying on a city and palace riddled with Wayar's trick power grids, that could maybe rob Poseidon and his godlings of their powers more easily than could be done in an all new location.
Of course Kurellian didn�t speak of Wayar�s techno-cheats in such direct terms. Since it�d still be quite a while before hardly anyone in Vrr knew of the massive deception in which they lived and died.
Poseidon seemed to also be warming up to the idea of an alliance with the rebels against Wayar and his troopers. I don�t think Kurellian pushed the idea of rebellion against Sturme (Wayar�s secret alter ego) too at that time. After the past century or so in Vrr, even the most head-strong gods who still strode the land avoided knocking heads with Sturme. At least through this stage of Vrr history. Someday that would change. But not today. Kurellian had learned from his friend Kadd White�s mistakes. Rushing the end game only allowed Wayar/Sturme to quash your rebellion before it could get well started. Kurellian now pursued a very gradual and deliberate course, allowing Sturme/Wayar to benefit Kurellian�s plans in their own inadvertent ways.
At least that�s the gist of what I�d get from Ling�s take on these matters later on.
Riki and I couldn�t leave Vrr until we�d met with the focal agent of the realm, and from them acquired whatever it was which helped our inter-dimensional jog stay on-course towards a particular moment on our native timeline.
Since Belphi Riki had managed to surreptitiously contact the Pagnew in a way which wouldn�t set off alarms in the simulation. More than once. The unfolding of events in Vrr had helped Arbitur narrow down the identity of the focal agent here: Poseidon himself!
Being an actual God though, not many people ever got to meet him. Or even see him from a distance.
But in gratitude for our actions of recent days, the God of the seas decided to grant a brief audience to Kurellian, Frans, Riki, and me.
Thankfully he scheduled our appointment for some days after the Belphi events-- by which time Riki had finally allowed me up from my extended kindergarten nap. Agh! But at least I was in somewhat better physical shape by then. Still poor, with broken ligaments and sore joints and the like which technically required the Pagnew facilities to repair super-fast. But with plenty of painkillers and a fourth skin to take my weight off my injured limbs.
Although Poseidon and his family had done wonderful things with the place in just a few days, our meeting place still amounted to a vast underground cavern. An apparently dry cavern, I was glad to see. But then was puzzled by how so many folks I thought could only breathe water seemed to be doing just fine with plain air there. Riki explained to me Poseidon had the power to temporarly allow such a mixing of air and water breathers, with no problem to either.
Like I said before, I was getting somewhat jaded by the wild stuff I�d witnessed on this trip by now.
But darn if I wasn�t genuinely shocked when I met Poseidon face to face.
For it was Thlios. The old Sol from Sym�s time! Only here considerably younger and more vital looking. And somewhat less technological in appearance. But it was unmistakably him.
I involuntarily shuddered at the recognition. Goose bumps ran up my arms. It felt like I was meeting a dead Egyptian Pharaoh come to life.
Then I recalled Thlios�s own recognition of me and Riki, before. In what was the future to this era we now occupied. Oh man: this was too weird!
Sym hadn�t filled me in on that, and now I thought I knew why: she was afraid of corrupting the timeline.
Then I also recalled this was all a simulation. Which meant that Poseidon had consciously transferred much of this self-image from the simulation to his actual corporeal form, later on.
Heck: Thlios/Poseidon must have been one of the rare few minds to survive Sarum 128!
The others went up and knelt before Poseidon, heads bowed, one by one. Poseidon touched them on one shoulder, as he also spoke with them briefly.
It came to be my turn, and I was glad the fourth skin could do my walking for me, as inside my knees were wobbly. For some reason meeting this guy a second time across four centuries, with him first as an old Sol, and now as a young God, was rattling me. My mind was also suddenly racing with all sorts of mad ideas, like somehow giving him a message to give to Sym when he met her. Stuff like that.
But in that moment I couldn�t think of anything to tell him.
Then I also remembered Thantia�s warning. I didn�t dare do anything here which would cause Thantia to wipe Sym�s memories of me. Revert Sym�s being back to the great gray knot again.
As I approached Poseidon my mind was in turmoil, my eyes welling up with tears. This might be the closest I�d ever be to someone who could relay a new message to Sym for me. But I dared not take the chance. For Thantia would know.
I tried to just do the same things the others had, and hide my feelings. But Poseidon was too perceptive for that. And for a lot of other things. Even through the protection of my fourth skin and its disguise.
My own meeting with Poseidon did not go as uneventfully as the others.
When I started to stand up and leave again, he stopped me. For just a brief instant-- maybe a fraction of a second-- I pushed up against his grasp on my shoulder with some of my fourth skin strength, before I realized he was holding me down.
Poseidon was strong enough to make that brief and accidental conflict go unnoticed by the others in the room. Despite my fourth skin likely exerting sufficient force there to tip over several 20th century automobiles.
I realized he was stopping me from rising, and turned my face up towards his, wondering what was going on.
"You are different," Poseidon said to me. "Why?"
"I am unsure what to say my lord," I managed to get out in the native tongue, as the skin translated for me.
"The face you show me is false," Poseidon stated.
Uh oh.
Then Riki jumped in to help me.
"My lord, may I explain?"
"Why cannot this one speak for himself?"
"He is young and does not understand those things you wish to know. I do." Riki told him.
"Speak then."
"My friend is sheathed in what my people use for clothing and armor and disguise. This clothing also aids us when we are injured, and it is currently helping him so. He could not stand before you now without its help."
"His injuries�they stem from the recent battles?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And you say this one could not stand on his own now, due to those injuries?"
"Yes."
"Then this one was the most heavily injured of you four?"
"Yes." Riki told him. I hadn�t realized it until now, but I suppose it was true. Although I could recall Riki being far worse than this after our very first run-in with a Resigent.
"Are you in pain?" Poseidon asked me directly.
"Not much, my lord. My people have-- something like herbs to help that." My suit helped me say.
"But you cannot stand without your sheath?"
"I do not think so, my lord Poseidon."
Then Poseidon turned to Riki again.
"I wish to remove the sheath about his head so I may see his true face. Will that harm him?"
"No, lord. It will not. I will have the sheath expose his head for you."
Suddenly the fourth skin split open at the top of my head and ran down off my face and noggin like a thin, living syrup. It was a new sensation: I�d never had a skin do that on me up to now.
It made my breath catch in my throat for a moment.
"So this is your true face?" Poseidon asked of me.
"Yes," I spoke directly to him for the first time-- and my suit spoke immediately after, doing its translation duty. This strangeness too had to be explained to Poseidon: but thankfully he didn�t blow us all to smithereens over it.
It was scary having my naked head exposed in this place. I�d been continuously protected by the fourth skin ever since regaining it from Gjord after our escape from the worm in the caves.
I had to keep reminding myself none of this was real. But I was positive it�d still hurt like hell anyway if my head got chopped off or blasted off in here.
It turned out to be a good thing Poseidon focused such attention on me though: for he called one of his relatives (I think) up to the throne and had them use their powers to heal my injuries like magic. Even faster than the Pagnew could have done!
Of course, I reminded myself once again such magic tricks were easy inside a virtual reality. But when you regain your mobility and lose your pain, those are both good no matter what the environment!
There were a few more formalities, then a big, raucous party. With naked and semi-naked nymphs (among others) present.
Me though, I was too shaken up by recognizing Thlios, and remembering Sym. Plus, I figured one could easily get into big trouble with those nymphs. I mean, if their God father or brothers or sisters got mad at you over something, you were literally toast. And the nymphs themselves were super-powered, too. Or at least some of them. And so maybe as potentially fatal as Sym herself if you rubbed them the wrong way�
Of course, I didn�t get to closely examine the record of Kurellian and Phylata at the Seventh Palace until much later, to see the full threat a nymph could pose.
I was in over my head in Vrr, and knew it. So I basically just tried to stay out of everyone�s way at the party, and avoid getting into any major conversations. I was ready to get out of there.
Riki was able to let me know he�d attained the data we needed in our meeting with Poseidon. But we still had to wait a while to make a smooth exit. For the circumstances had to be correct on both our end and Arbiter�s (his script mods to Vrr).
Yes, the magical healing of my injuries helped a lot. But my thinking of Sym combined with the lack of further action to bring back my melancholy again. So I basically sulked during the celebrations.
I missed Sym so much!
The remainder of our stay was uneventful. Riki and I soon made our fictional way back up to our fictional Pagnew, and the ship left fictional orbit about the Vrr worldlet.
And I woke up to real life onboard the physical Pagnew again. Or at least to the closest thing to real available to me in that moment.
After experiencing the vivid realism of Vrr, you couldn't help but question the reality of the Pagnew itself, afterwards. And so I came to understand another reason Ling's people had felt it best to make their subsequent virtual realities be a bit easier to discern from the real world.
It was no time at all before we shifted again. To yet another time and place. Closer than ever to home. Further away from Sym.