Overcharge

A one second long burst of pain hits Warren as if someone has driven a knife through his chest. They haven’t and can’t. He isn’t in his physical body any longer. That is out in the real world, the physical world, laid out on a reclined seat that looks more akin to a dentist’s chair than he would prefer.

His mind meanwhile is in the construct. But he can’t see it yet. His virtual form isn’t present. At the moment he is nothing but thoughts and feelings floating. He can’t even say in a void. They are simply floating. Technically he isn’t in a space, void or otherwise.

Then comes the feeling of burning, it washes over him. The sensation is grating. He’s got it down to that now, but at one time it had made him scream. Still, this insertion feels worse than they usually do. Seconds, he’s counted them, have passed and yet he continues to feel the burning. That, if nothing else, is proof that something is wrong in the simulation. He wonders if this is how the other Datastars met their… Suddenly Warren feels as if he has smashed face first into a wall and broken right through. He heaves a sigh of relief. He knows the crash well. He likens it to that one friend everyone has had at some stage in their life who behaves less like a friend than you would like or at times need. He opens his eyes. They respond and Warren in his seven foot tall avatar with spiked blonde hair, tattoos and orange cat shaped eyes finds himself in one of the cities. There are countless in the simulation. Far more than exist on Earth. Yet, he doesn’t recognise this one immediately. It’s familiar but… File access is limited. Ordinarily he would pull data from the system if he couldn’t recall a name. It seldom happens that he must resort to such things. Because of that he gets an uneasy feeling. Then there’s a flash. Not of images. He calls that what it is, a relief. If they were images, particularly unfamiliar ones then that would be cause for major concern.

However, there shouldn’t be a flash in the construct regardless of what it is. The virtual world isn’t afflicted by natural phenomenon or spikes and dips in electrical current. So what caused the flash? He can’t say but imagines it has to be linked to whatever has been going on in… Warren turns. He had been faced toward a series of walls, a dead end. They surrounded him on the three sides visible to him.

Now that he has turned he is met with a skyline that looks altered. He can’t pick out how exactly other than to say that it is close enough to what he remembers but not identical. Is that the system? He wants to say that it is but the virtual world has never altered itself. This city, all the cities are static. They don’t change. They are the hubs. From them users create whatever they wish but these cities are a constant. Warren really doesn’t like this. Get over it, he urges himself before noting he needs to vacate this dead end alley if he wishes to learn what might be the cause of all that is happening in the simulation. With that he breaks into a stride. His legs work as he would wish them too. Positive sign he tells himself. No corruption to the basic principles of locomotion, orientation and so on. Just as well as that would be… He realises he needs to make contact. He should have already but was too caught up in breaching the construct. He presses a finger to his ear in the old way that people did when they wore earpieces and advises, “I’m in.”

There is a short pause following his words. He waits nervously. The seconds tick by but when he feels Dana’s voice his fears are dispelled by relief.

“We read you Warren. A little distorted but it’ll have to do for now. How is it?”

Dana’s voice too is distorted. Also not enough to be a problem but with how the simulation works there shouldn’t be any of those kinds of issues. That suggests to Warren the construct has some corrupted segments. That doesn’t explain the lock out or the unease as if this place has… Warren having reached the street looks around. His head pans left, then right. His brow furrows. He’s alone. There isn’t a single sole, vehicle or noise. This is a city. There are countless people in it at all times. Even if there wasn’t the construct simulates many added details like birds and their song. They can always be heard chirping as can the rumble of vehicles that zip up and down the roads. It hits Warren where he is, Karact City.

“It’s wrong.” The blue eyed man gives no more detail than that.

“What do you mean?” Sanjiv queries while Dana looks at him worried.

“The cities empty. Not a soul. Not even a simulated one. No cars. No birds. Nothing. I’m alone. It’s like a blank slate in here.” Warren can hear his voice echo. That he finds the most unnerving thing of all. He might not visit Karact often but it has never echoed previously, of that he is certain.

He cranes his neck up toward the ‘sky.’ It too is simulated with clouds, only a few of them. They’re white and fluffy. No chance of ‘rain.’ 

It takes a bit but following the careful study Warren has to admit, “The sky is static like its frozen.”

“Impossible, the simulation is running. We can’t stop it. No one can. Even if we could the data streams are showing they are in motion.” Dana blurts while Sanjiv scratches his head. He can’t argue because Dana is right. Everything is streaming in real time. There are no pauses, hiccups, nothing like Warren is describing. Weather can be changed but not stopped. There is always a pattern, whether it be a system dictated one or one set by users to meet some narrative.

“Well you might want to tell that to the sky over Karact because it is definitely not moving.”

“Karact?” Dana and Sanjiv exclaim in unison. They exchange looks with one another right after. Confused expressions are shared by both in the moments before Sanjiv admits, “We didn’t drop you in Karact, Warren.”

“Yeah you did because I’m stood on the sidewalk of…” The blue eyed man finds he can’t recall the name of the street. He mumbles to himself annoyed by the lack of access to files that would normally just be ready for him, even if it was just in case.

“The insertion point was marked Paradise Hills.” Dana explains.

“Oh shit.” Warren exclaims realising why Karact looks wrong. It isn’t Karact he’s looking at. Yet nor is it Paradise Hills either. Instead it is an amalgamation of the two. He shakes his head astounded, completely oblivious to the panic he has instilled within Sanjiv and Dana.

“What is it?” Dana demands to know immediately. Her voice is tense and filled with terror.

“I’m in both.”

“What do you mean Warren?” Sanjiv doesn’t understand and by the look on Dana’s face nor does she.

“What I’m looking at is both Karact and Paradise. They’ve been combined. How is that…” Warren never finishes because Sanjiv cuts in to say, “It isn’t. There is no way those two cities can be together. They’re millions of miles apart.”

“Well that is what I’m looking at.” Warren assures.

“But there’s no one?” Dana feels a need to confirm what Warren has already informed them.

“Yeah that’s…” Warren begins.

“Hehehe.” A giggle fills his ears. Warren turns in the direction it sounds as if it has come from. He sees nothing, no one. All there is are the combined structures from both Karact and Paradise Hills. He wonders if he should name this new place. Childish, he thinks but still his brain manages Karadise. He passes no judgement and refuses to acknowledge what he’s dreamt up.

“Hello?” Warren cries instead. His voice echoes ruthlessly. That creeps him out. He doesn’t like this place. It was never created to be empty like it is.

“Why are you saying hello? Is our connection degrading? I read you fine…” Dana questions only for Sanjiv to add, “Link is looking good bar the slight distortion.”

“No. I heard something. It sounded like a laugh. A giggle really, but I still don’t see anyone.” There should be questions asked about this but there are not due to Sanjiv quickly exclaiming, “Massive data spike three miles south of your position.”

“What kind?” Warren demands to know. He feels nothing. Not that he should. Normally he wouldn’t. But then normally the construct has no data spikes, massive or otherwise. Typically the output is consistent within pretty slim margins. But then the simulation also usually isn’t in the middle of a lockdown nor does it manage to smash two cities together and create something new but eerily deserted.

“I don’t’ know. I can’t…” Sanjiv can’t decipher what is going on. Dana too is lost. What they’re both seeing makes little sense. They can see the changes but that’s as far as their access goes. Regardless, something like what appears to be happening shouldn’t be possible. Datastars have real world access to data. They shouldn’t have any issue digging into the output but they are. It’s as if the changes are surface level deep. Not really there. Or maybe so deep that the outputs can’t properly quantify them because they are superseding what came previously. Almost like a rewrite but one that backdates and erases everything that came previously. If true that would be no easy feat. Not that it should be an achievable feat in the first place. No computer system has ever managed to have new additions and data overwrite what existed before it. Sure, software can erase or change previous code but not retroactively alter it as if it never existed in the first place. Time doesn’t work like that, not in the simulation or the real world.

“What you’re saying is I need to get to the source of the data spike?” Warren knows that it is. If it wasn’t they would’ve given him answers by now. He can guess, it’s not difficult to, that Dana and Sanjiv can’t explain what is going on. He can’t either to be fair.

If there were more time he might get them to try but that is something they are short on, and he’s been stationary too long already. With his mind made up Warren breaks into a brisk set of strides. Quickly those strides transition into a jog and then a full blown sprint.

One of the benefits of the construct is physical exhaustion is not something anyone can suffer because at the end of the day Warren isn’t using his legs. He is imagining he is moving and so his mind makes it so.

“I’m on my way.” He announces while hurtling down the sidewalk.

“Warren, is that wise? We don’t know what you might find.” Sanjiv is attempting to reason. If he knew Warren was on the move he wouldn’t bother.

No physical exertion means no signs of partaking in physical activities.

“Too late, I’m on my way.” Those words bring an end to any potential reasoning for better or for worse.

Yet the conclusion to the conversation does not prevent Dana and Sanjiv exchanging a fresh round of glances, nervous ones.