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Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)

 
ArchimedesGirl
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12/08/2021 10:36 AM

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Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
I had an epic dream a couple nights ago. It was detailed and movie-length. I cannot write it all in one post, so I will begin writing it here, one "chapter" at a time, in story form, as it was presented to me. Comments are welcome.

Synopsis:

Mike works by day cleaning code in a cubicle, and in the evening he goes home to play "The Game" everyone else in the world is playing. He begins to suspect The Game is controlling his real life and decides to try to escape. But escaping a construct he built for himself costs more than he could have guessed. While fighting his own code, Mike discovers an easier route of escape for the friends he hopes will follow.

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/24/2021 05:55 PM
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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Game Over - a dream - 12-6-21

This was a long, very developed dream about a man who lived in a city like San Francisco and worked in an IT position in a cubicle in a large tech company.

Mike was Japanese, 38 years of age, small of stature but well-built and light on his feet. He had jaw length hair pulled back into a short tail, and a very short beard and mustache with no sideburns.

The most important thing about Mike was his dream. His life goal was to someday hike the Continental Divide all the way from Canada down to Mexico. He watched youtube videos about other people making the journey and even “followed” one attractive girl who had done the trek multiple times in her life. Mike dreamed of meeting her on the trail someday with his own beat-up gear, sun-weathered smile and collection of stories to tell.

But for almost 2o years Mike had worked in the same cubicle and saved his money to make the trip of his life. And he wasn’t afraid. Or at least, he hadn’t been for most of those 20 years. But now he was beginning to feel some fear.

What if his dream never came true? Every time he had almost enough money for the trip, something would happen: his mom died and he had to travel to her funeral and bring gifts to his relatives, his transmission blew and he had to buy a new used motorbike, he broke his ankle and had a hospital bill to pay. . . and the list went on, year after year. It was beginning to seem as if God was against him, would never let him go.

All of his coworkers seemed to relate. Every one of them had stories of abandoned dreams and disillusionment.

So every evening when Mike left work and went back to his apartment, he would login and play the game.

Everyone was there. Everyone on Earth. Every baby born for the last several decades was given an ID along with a Game Alt. Your game alt was the same age as you and lived the exact same life with the same exact constraints and frustrations.

The thrill of The Game was that when you logged in to play, you didn’t have to be yourself. You could be anyone else on Earth. You could be rich and famous or live in another country, or even fly on a space shuttle.

At any one given time, millions of women were playing Kim Kardashian or Taylor Swift. Millions of men were playing Elon Musk.

Mike had spent most of his game time as Andrzej Bargiel, Victor Vescovo, Mike Horn and other explorers and athletes. The most popular people on Earth rose to the top of the game as coveted avatars, while the most boring sank to the bottom as players.

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/16/2021 03:44 PM
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12/08/2021 10:44 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
So a Gamer, Maze Runner, Matrix?
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 10:45 AM

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One evening, when Mike was playing Andrew Skurka, he decided to hike the Continental Divide, but discovered that his Andrew-avatar could not leave Alaska. So he tried Victor, but could not even get him to America. So he went back to playing the game through the Jessica-avatar, his favorite Continental Divide explorer, and on a whim, he tried to leave the hike and come visit CA. But the Jessica-avatar couldn’t leave the trail. She hiked and she videoed and talked to other hikers, but she couldn’t leave the trail.

Just like he couldn’t leave his job and go to the Continental Divide. Fear washed over him like cold rain that turned into fire. Could it be? Was he in The Game in real life? Was real life a game? Did the game control life?

Mike took off his headset and threw it across the room as he bounded to his feet. Then he grabbed his phone and went out the door.

“Lock,” he said, and the door locked. “Start,” he said to his bike, and it started.

He got on and drove toward the city limits, fear gnawing at his stomach. He remembered leaving the city for his mother’s funeral in Japan. He had left many times for weekend vacations a few hours away and once he even flew to London for a conference.

Had he ever left on a whim, just because he wanted to leave? Could he cross the city limits in this state of internal rebellion? He sped up, dodging around slow moving vehicles in the night, heading toward the mountains, determined to break through the invisible barriers that held him back.

Three hours later, at midnight, Mike stopped the bike. He was in the middle of nowhere, far past the city limits, lost in a rural, rich neighborhood in the Santa Cruz mountains.

He felt sheepish - stupid, even. It had all been in his head. He was going crazy with early mid-life crisis. Too much playing the game and too little actual living life.

It was 3:30 AM when he parked his bike and staggered through the front door to get a few hours of sleep before work the next day.

From that night onward, Mike avoided the game. He even hid the headset under a jacket so he didn’t have to look at it. Then he shoved it in a closet, jacket and all. The knowledge that his own avatar was stuck in the game bothered him immensely.

He began to have nightmares that his Game Avatar was begging him for help, accusing him of being the criminal mastermind behind the whole world’s loss of soul-satisfying achievement.

To be continued. ..
Anonymous Coward
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12/08/2021 11:09 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
clappa
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12/08/2021 11:14 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Truman Show & Tron
Write the book and get some cash yo!
Good Stuff.
ThePassenger

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12/08/2021 11:23 AM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
bump for later, great thread OP hf
A.I.B.I.A.
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12/08/2021 11:24 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Truman Show & Tron
Write the book and get some cash yo!
Good Stuff.
 Quoting: Trashcanman2


How about no, IPS cost money. Belongs to the flag.
Anonymous Coward
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12/08/2021 11:25 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
If you're invaders you will be raped.
Anonymous Coward
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12/08/2021 11:27 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
It sounds like the Ryan Reynolds FreeMan .... except he wasn't the one writing the code.

but your synopsis held my interest and seemed interesting.

Curious...when you dream a movie length dream...were you dreaming this for two hours?
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 02:25 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
There was a hobo named Mortimer who sat on the corner of the alley beside Mike’s apartment every day. He had a cardboard sign that read, “VET - anything helps” in spotty black marker.

For years Mike had dropped his change into Mort’s coffee can. Then one day he saw Mort in the nearby city parking lot, shrugging off his enormous stinky coat to reveal a nice jacket underneath. Mortimer had dusted off his pants and then loaded his sign and various bits of trash into a nice SUV and drove away. Mike followed him to the nearby Lion’s Club and watched as the old man greeted friends and smoked a cigar on the outside railing.

He had not put change in Mort’s can since. But today, as Mike walked past the hobo, he paused and asked, “Do you ever play The Game, Mort?”

“Son, I played the game with my life down in Grenada.” Mortimer answered with an air of suffering. “That’s how I lost my leg— helicopter went down under enemy fire.”

Mike just studied him silently for a moment, trying to see the truth through the old man’s masquerade. Mortimer stared back at him under one bushy eyebrow and then admitted testily, “Naw. That game stuff is for kids.”

Mike dropped some change into Mort’s cup and the cranky old man added, “but I might be willing to test the game for you, if you’re paying. You’d have to show me how, of course.”

Lack of response had become a negotiating tool that Mike had often found useful. Even though Mort couldn’t offer him anything he wanted, Mike waited for the old man to give up his ground. He just looked at Mort without saying a word and the hobo added, “I mean, for you, I’d even do it for free.”

Finally Mike smiled, and then shook his head. “Thanks, but I was just asking. See you tomorrow.”

Mortimer grumbled, disappointed, but distracted by the rustling sound of a bill in his money can.

When Mike got to work, he surreptitiously scanned the room, logged in under a ghost IP and found Mortimer’s avatar. He laughed to discover Mort’s avatar did in fact leave the corner every day to go play checkers or cards at the Veteran’s Center. Mort’s avatar lived in an average house and spent a lot of money on alcohol. And Mort’s avatar cashed a pension check twice a month. He could travel north and East but could not leave the country. And Mortimer himself had never played The Game.

For 12 hours, Mike intermittently explored The Game from new angles. He used his own avatar to see where he could go within the city. Every kid who first played the game had tried bank vaults, whore houses and car theft. It could be done with the right avatar.

However, Mike was looking for access to The Game Headquarters building. He tried every door and every window with no success. He expected as much. He searched the internet for names of employees who worked for The Game. Their avatars should have access. But they didn’t.

At lunch he drove to The Game Headquarters in real life and just sat astride his bike watching people come and go.

The security guard. He must have clearance. Mike returned to work and tried again, searching for the ID of each security guard to the building. But someone had been thinking ahead. Not a single avatar that came and went from the building had access, even though the irl people came and went every single day.

Mike went home that night depressed. He felt like he’d spent the day trying to break out of jail without any luck.

To be continued. . .

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/12/2021 08:40 PM
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 02:26 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
bump for later, great thread OP hf
 Quoting: ThePassenger


Yay, thanks guys. . . I love feedback.
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 02:27 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
It sounds like the Ryan Reynolds FreeMan .... except he wasn't the one writing the code.

but your synopsis held my interest and seemed interesting.

Curious...when you dream a movie length dream...were you dreaming this for two hours?
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 77940772


Um, yeah. . . I think. Not sure. It could have been for hours. And, to be fair, some of the details, like all the names, I have added for story clarity. The story line was all there - and more - in that I was "in" Mike and could feel his emotional ups and downs.

My favorite character though, comes next. . .
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 02:32 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Mike walked down the brightly lit street to a little Thai vendor’s shop that had his favorite Makrut lime beef and basil stir fry.

“Uncle,” Mike said, looking through the steamy window, “the usual.”

The old man smiled and nodded, heaping extra beef into the bowl for his favorite customer.He had served Mike Thai bowls for almost a decade. Years ago, he had slapped the back of Mike’s hand with a sticky spoon for trying to pick up the rice bowl before paying for it, only to discover the bowl had covered the $10 bill Mike had put on the window-counter.

“Take it easy, Uncle,” Mike had said with a growl. And “Uncle” the old man had been ever since.

“When you gonna come work for me?” Uncle asked Mike, as he handed the hot bowl of food through the open window.

“I need some help with good taste.”

“Your taste is pretty good by itself,” Mike grinned, taking his own chopsticks out of his back pocket. He had a loathing for the paper wrapped to-go chopsticks offered with the napkin.

“Cash business!” Uncle exclaimed, as though he were offering a tempting jewel of great price. “Cash business, Mike. And all the beef basil with lime you can eat!”

Mike lifted a mouthful of food with his chopsticks and shrugged as he turned away to sit at the rickety metal table on the sidewalk.

“Where’s your wife?” Uncle called out the window. “And your son?”

Mike ignored the questions with an almost expressionless face. Mike had no wife or kids, and Uncle knew it. The old man’s harassment was a form of familial love, and Mike didn’t take offense. But it was a bit annoying that Uncle had the same lines every single time, almost like an NPC.

Mike’s chopsticks froze mid-air as the idea hit him.

“Good? Yeah? It’s good, yeah?” Uncle shouted out the window, alarmed by Mike’s hesitation.

There were still a few NPC-essential human roles in The Game that were now currently filled by robots in the real world.

Copbots, cleanbots, and fixbots came in and out of every building in real life without restrictions. And in the game, they were still represented as NPC people rather than bots. That would change soon. But it hadn’t yet.

“Good!” Mike affirmed, relieving Uncle’s pounding heart. “Never been better.”

(To be continued... I've got other things to do, so this will come in pieces. . .)

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/12/2021 08:41 PM
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12/08/2021 05:22 PM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
bump
Anonymous Coward
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bump
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 81471490


yeah -hoping we don't have to wait until tomorrow.
Anonymous Coward
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
bump
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 81471490


yeah -hoping we don't have to wait until tomorrow.
 Quoting: Trashcanman2


NOTHING BEEN DISCUSS WITH ME FOR FUCKING MONTHS SO NO IT NOT OVER
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/08/2021 11:13 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
The first time anyone plays The Game, an IRL operator comes on and takes all your information and introduces you to your own avatar. A suggestion list of player avatars is talked through and the operator helps you find and choose a handful of people you would like to be.

The Game generates more income than any other genre of entertainment on Earth, and is the primary platform for advertisement. Every player represents a lifetime of income to shareholders, advertisers, the IRS, homeland security, and to some degree, income for the people behind the most popular avatars.

Because of all the revenue each player represents, The Game operators are paid an incentivizing percentage to make each player happy and help them find the avatars in which they will spend the most amount of time.

All of that considered, Mike knew that his chances of talking an operator into letting him play as an NPC were pretty much nil. But maybe he could find an NPC that would get him in the door.

Every day at lunch time, he drove his bike to The Game Headquarters and watched the traffic in and out of the building. He memorized the floors, cameras, windows and doors, and “happened” to talk to a few caterers on their way in. He tried walking right behind a Fixbot through a service door, but, sensing his presence, the robot came to a stop and would not move toward the door until Mike was at least 10 feet away. Not once was he able to get inside in real life.

In the evening, as he played The Game, Mike tried the avatars of all the people he had seen or met coming in and out of The Game building. Not one of their avatars seemed to have the clearance the IRL people did. The Game began to seem sinister in his mind. What were they hiding? Who were “they?”

For about 8 hours straight, while playing The Game, Mike stalked a Window Washer on the outside of The Game Headquarters. He showed up at the door in the avatar of a pizza boy, and then a Sexy blond Courier, and then a Cop. But he was never allowed through the door.

Mike was in the middle of a conversation with a geeky looking tech who he suspected to be playing his own avatar when the door buzzer began to ring incessantly - the real door, IRL.

Mike jumped and frowned. Nobody ever came to his apartment door except for the Mailbot and the landlord. He hesitated. Dang. They were really insistent. Maybe it was an emergency.

“Sorry, man, I’ve gotta go. Someone at the door,” he said into his microphone. “I’ll catch you later,”

The buzzing had become rhythmic pounding.

Mike swore and jumped up, yelling, “I’m coming already, geez, lay off the door!”

He was startled to see a Copbot waiting on the other side. It was shaped like a silver bullet with a 4”x10” visual screen that immediately scanned his face and took a retina reading.

“Shit!” Mike exclaimed and turned his head away instantly, and then back again in an effort to appear guiltless.

“Michael Chikaraishi? Please state your name clearly.” The Copbot requested.

“What is this about?” Mike equivocated. His pulse was racing. He’d never tangled with the cops before. Never.

“Elevated pulse, cold sweat, fear pheromones, failure to cooperate,” the Copbot cheerfully announced.

“My name is Michael Chikaraishi.” Mike stated with as level a voice as he could manage, trying to slow his breathing and heart beat.

“State your purpose for attempting to enter The Game Headquarters,” the Copbot inquired immediately.

“I was — I was looking for a friend.”

“Lie detected. Pulse elevated. Breathing restricted.”

Mike tried again. “I wanted to try to get an interview without anyone knowing. . . because I hate my job, and if my employer found out I’ve applied somewhere else, he’ll fire me.”

The Copbot was silent for a moment and Mike had the distinct impression there was a person on the other end of this conversation.

“Lie probable, pulse slowing, breathing restricted,” the Copbot replied after a pause. That pause gave Mike the confidence he needed to slow his heart rate all the way down.

“I just really, really admire The Game and I want to work there,” Mike added. “I’d give anything to work there.”

“A search of our database has provided the following information,” the Copbot responded. “Online applications are available at TheGame.World. Applicants are welcome and encouraged to call and speak to a representative between 9Am and 5Am Monday through Friday. Please respond with your intentions.”

“I intend to apply for a job at The Game,” Mike responded immediately.

“Goodbye and remember: keeping the rules keeps everyone safe.”

With that, the Copbot backed away, turned, and retreated down the hall.

Mike closed the door, locked it, locked it again, and sagged against it from the inside.

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/15/2021 12:04 AM
0d1n
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12/09/2021 12:18 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Really good.
Thank you.
Please go on.
0d1n
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12/09/2021 12:20 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Metaverse?
Anonymous Coward
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12/09/2021 12:44 AM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Bump

Good read! Looking forward to more.
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
hf
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/09/2021 04:30 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Really good.
Thank you.
Please go on.
 Quoting: 0d1n 81239693

Thanks! I will as I can. I'm pretty into the story too. Some of the little details that I dreamed, are hard to write because I have to understand how they happened. Like, how did Mike know Mortimer, and why was Mort such a pill? How did Uncle's place exist the way it did?

In the dream everyone but Mike was just "here and now" and written down it leaves the story feeling a bit vague. So, I'm thinking through the characters as I write the scenes and trying to bring them all into full focus.

But here is a bit more for today. . .

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/13/2021 10:51 PM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
He walked the streets of the city until dawn, shoulders hunched and taut in the black hoodie. For the first two hours he swore, broke into a run occasionally, and then finally began to calm down and assess his situation. His anxious walk lengthened into a relaxed jog.

He had the freedom to live a marginally good American life. The game might even let him change jobs, get married and have kids. As long as he let go of his dream to hike the Divide, he might be able to find some other more local and
somewhat satisfying pursuit.

“What benefits The Game?” Mike asked aloud. “What do “they” want from me? And who are “they?”

The trauma of the Copbot’s visit began to fade and Mike began to think again. He would keep looking for answers. But he’d be smarter this time.

He had reached restaurant district and the smell of coffee make his stomach growl. Mike turned around and began to run back to his apartment.

Mortimer was setting up for the day as he jogged by. He was dumping the dirty duffel bag out, scattering his belongings, and looking for his sign.

“Ho!” Mort cried, startled, as Mike approached at a run. “Oh, it’s just you,” he added, and then went on hurriedly, loathe to lose a conversation. “I bought a dual Game set - all the stuff. Nice stuff too. It’s all the latest model.”

Mike slowed his run and came to a stop, 10 feet past Mort, then he bent over put his head down to catch his breath.

“I’m looking for someone to show me how to set it up,” Mort added. “And I could make it worth your time.”

Mike turned around, still breathing rhythmically. Waiting for the offer. Mortimer looked irritated.

“You could play one while I play one,” he offered stintingly.

“Play one what?” Mike asked.

“One of the game things. I don’t know what they’re called. The headset things with glasses. I got two, I told you already,” Mort huffed.

“Why did you buy two?” Mike was trying to think of a polite way to say “no, thanks” to Mort. But an idea began to grow in his mind.

“It was a good deal. Buy one, get the second 30% off. I’m gonna sell the extra one, if I don’t need it. Do you have a new one yet?” Mortimer was just getting warmed up. “I have a house. I’m not really a bum. I am a Veteran though and because of my injury I can’t work. But people like to support and encourage war heroes, and they should, they should…”

Mort’s sign lay face down on the concrete next to him. He saw Mike glance at it and, like a naughty child, the old man picked it up and shoved it back into the duffel bag, still talking,

“I’ll order pizza, and you can come over and set it all up and check it out. Any time, you can come over and play anytime I’m home. Like in the evenings. You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’re one of those computer types, I can tell.”

“I have my own game console,” Mike said finally. “I don’t need another.”

Mort was silent with disappointment.

“But,” Mike added, “I might be able to help you out and then if I ever need help, you can help me out.”

Mort beamed and nodded his head vigorously. “Absolutely, absolutely. I’ll watch your back. I’ve got guns too, and I can handle myself pretty well, even without my leg. Yes, sir, I am still a bad ass, I’ll tell you that. I am still a bad ass, scary son of a bitch. My name’s Mortimer, what’s yours?”

“Brian Lee,” Mike answered instinctively with a pseudonym.

“Where do you live, Brian? I see you going around the corner every day. You live in this building?”

“I live down that way,” Mike said vaguely, nodding with his head generally south and behind the row of buildings with which the old man was familiar.

“Tonight then? About 6 o’clock?” Mort assumed. “I need to give you my address, you got your phone?”

Mike shook his head. He didn’t want Mortimer’s data anywhere on his device. He knew enough about meta data gathering to know that in spite of his 3 layers of ghost IPs, his phone and his game console were doubtless on a watch list now. No need to involve the old man.

“Just tell me,” he said. “I will remember. I don’t think I can make it tonight. But maybe tomorrow.”

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/12/2021 08:47 PM
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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Bump

Good read! Looking forward to more.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 80632059


Yay, thanks! It's so great to have readers. Constructive feedback is welcome too - like if anything doesn't make sense. This is a first rough draft, of course.
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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Mike called in sick to work, and slept the day away. In mid-afternoon he awoke and began to lay out and plan for himself:

Apply for a job at The Game in case anybody was watching. (No chance of that happening, he knew. Their employees all came from special schools.)

No playing The Game on his own console any other way than with his old avatars, or as himself, just wandering around town doing regular things. But he must still spend at least an hour a day doing that for the sake of appearances.

No searching for information about The Game on any of his own devices. Mort’s could be used for that (with caution) without bringing any harm to the old man.

Mike’s stomach growled. Green curry chicken and coconut rice sounded amazing right about now. But before he went, he’d spend a half hour playing The Game.

He found himself loathe to repeat old patterns, so he compromised with a boring, but new route — Mike walked his own avatar down the sidewalk beneath the street lights to Uncle’s.

Within minutes he had reached the gym where he worked out, at the end of the block, beyond Uncle’s place. Confused, he turned around and retraced his steps all the way back to his apartment.

What the heck? Where was Uncle’s stand? Running his avatar, Mike zipped up and down the sidewalk, looking at all the stores. He stopped in front of a shop called, “Boon Nam Noodles,” that appeared to be closed down years ago. Could that be Uncle’s place?

Worried, Mike took off his headset, grabbed a jacket and left the apartment. Within minutes he had reached Uncle’s Thai Bowl stand. It was still there, and so was Uncle, steaming up the little glass room with his stir fry.

“Heroh, Mike!” Uncle called, slurring his ‘L’. “The usual?”

“Uh, actually. . . I’ll have the Green Curry Chicken this time. . .”

Mike stood back at the edge of the sidewalk to survey the storefront. This was it. This was Boon Nam Noodles. . . about 12 years ago. The old paint was as faded as the memory of the place. Mike walked up and down, looking at all the stores, making note of their names and locations to find in The Game later.

“Ready!” Uncle called. Mike started to hand him a ten and hesitated, looking at the bill. Uncle’s thin, faded brows arched questioningly.

“Have you ever played The Game, Uncle?” Mike asked.

“Snatch and Grab Game?” Uncle asked, one hand darting out to grab the ten.

“No - The Game.” Uncle looked blank. “You know - The Game. Everyone plays it.”

“Heh!” Uncle snorted. “Never play ‘nother man’s game. Bad for business!”

“Bad for business,” Mike echoed.

“You gonna eat that?” Uncle asked suspiciously. Mike obliging ate a bite and wandered over to the table. Uncle watched him from the window.

“It’s good. Are you Boon Nam, Uncle?” Mike called over the sound of traffic.

“No, that’s Uncle,” Uncle said, grinning.

“What?” Mike asked, leaving the table to come over where he could hear better.

“Boon Nam was my uncle’s place,” the old man explained. “He got the arthritis in his hands because he don’t like hot stuff.”

Mike’s brow puckered. Sometimes Uncle didn’t make sense. “Where is he now?” he asked.

“My sister taking care of him,” Uncle explained. “He had no kid, so I took it over. Thai Bowl now. Cash only.”

“Cash only,” Mike repeated, realization dawning on him. “You have a finance account, Uncle?”

“Yep,” Uncle affirmed turning back to his wok. Mike shook his head. It didn’t all make sense. . . “Land,” the old man cackled smugly. “My cash buy land. Daughter say, “I don’t want a Thai Bowl, Dad. I want a garden. Flowers, vegetables, trees.”

“You put all your cash into buying land?” Mike asked, fascinated. “Where?”

“Idaho,” Uncle said. “We got some family there. Land cheap. Someday, when Mike don’t want anymore beef-basil with lime, Uncle gonna move to daughter’s garden and retire.”

"Only White people live in Idaho, Uncle. You're going to be as out of place as a banana in a bowl of potatoes."

"So what!" Uncle said, waving his sticky spoon at Mike. "It's a free country, so far."

"So far," Mike agreed. "And anyway - maybe Idaho people would like Thai Bowls."

“No!” Uncle cried. “You gonna miss it. You gonna miss it. Not just you. Got plenty customer gonna miss my cooking, big time.”

“You’re right,” Mike agreed. “I would miss it, big time.”

He went back to the table and continued to eat, while Uncle watched him, smiling out the window.

Last Edited by ArchimedesGirl on 12/12/2021 08:51 PM
Anonymous Coward
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12/09/2021 04:50 PM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Can we skip to the part where he figures out how to escape the dream please?
Anonymous Coward
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12/09/2021 06:07 PM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Still going well.
Continue when you can, please.
Anonymous Coward
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12/09/2021 06:07 PM
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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Still going well.
Continue when you can, please.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 80276927

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ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/09/2021 06:26 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Still going well.
Continue when you can, please.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 80276927

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 Quoting: Trashcanman2


thank you!
ArchimedesGirl  (OP)

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12/09/2021 06:27 PM

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Re: Game Over - a Journey to Freedom (story complete)
Can we skip to the part where he figures out how to escape the dream please?
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 80403264


He is actual figuring it out already and if you read carefully, you'll begin to see. There is more than one way.





GLP