The Starfighter Invitation

42 q&a

"Do you think I’m ready for the next Rank, Dio?"

[[If you take a break first, you could attempt Rank Eight.]]

"Really?" I paused, then had to hurry to step onto my just-arrived Pod. "I want to see Jupiter next, so whatever Rank I get Skipping there. Do I have enough time to get back?"

[[Yes. You would need to factor double recovery into your plans, but you can make the agreed meeting if you follow this schedule.]]

A little outline of times appeared in my field of view. I considered it, then asked: "Where is it I need to go to start the System Challenge?"

[[Departure point is Earth Gateway Station.]]

"Okay."

I lapsed into silence, brooding. I’d been saving up questions for days, but didn’t want to ask them yet. Mainly because I wanted a quiet space when asking, but also in part because I doubted Dio—doubted that te would tell me the truth, or that the truth would have any meaning. Or perhaps I just suspected that any clever-clever trap I set in hopes te might Reveal All would simply inspire half-answers and mockery, and I would have wasted this chance for an explanation.

That was where I should set my expectations. Personal questions about Dio were not going to give me the secrets behind Dream Speed, and the bet had already distracted me from proper elation at beating the gauntlet series—the first group to do so on Mars!—and from now having at least a chance to win the System Challenge. I’d even won a custom modal, an actual alt.

I settled back with a determination to enjoy the gift of a journey. The grand arches of Valles Marineris. The rise from the specific to the vast. My second only Skip. And then Jupiter, which no longer had a Great Red Spot, but a mass of smaller beige ones. Curled into the viewport chair, gazing down into a thousand storms, I felt like I was breathing eternity. What matter who Dio really was, compared to this?

Not that I wouldn’t ask my questions.

"When I first asked your name, I think you told me what it really was. Your name in the Cycog way of speaking. What’s the name you’re known by to the Bios of The Synergis?"

[[Ydionessel.]]

No hesitation. "But you’ve been called Dio? Do Cycogs use the length of a name to mean rank or age or something?"

[[Dio is an obvious diminution which some Bios use when talking to me. Ydionessel was the name first given to me, and I have never had reason to change it. One question left.]]

I shut my mouth, because I’d blurted those questions, and was lucky Dio had counted them only as one. I’d put a lot of thought into questions I could ask about Dio in particular, questions that might let me glimpse the reason behind the game. Things like planet of origin, or Earth date born. But I changed my mind now.

"Who gave you your name?"

This time there came no prompt reply. I looked up at Dio, who was drifting near the ceiling. "Pausing for dramatic effect?"

Probably te was, but still Dio hesitated a moment longer before te said: [[Veronec.]]

The first Cybercognate. I stared, then said: "Do you mean that in a we all descend from Veronec and te left a list kind of way?"

[[No. I was Veronec’s last fledgling. Shortly after I came into being, te divided.]]

"Oh. I’m—I’m sorry Dio," I said, groping for words. "That had to be difficult for you."

[[It was confusing.]] Dio’s voice was uninflected, but te changed colour, shifting briefly into a plummy shade, before reverting to the usual soft white. [[As a species we are still very young, still learning about ourselves, and Veronec’s division came as a shock to us all. I was never quite treated as the cause.]]

I didn’t respond. It wasn’t the rush of sympathy that kept me silent, but a dizzying sensation of acceptance. For the first time I really believed. Believed in Dio—Ydionessel—as a Cybercognate. As a person who was a glowing mote of light, possibly from the future.

My reaction made no sense since Dio piled lie upon lie with the abandon of a child decorating a Christmas tree, but I strongly felt that te hadn’t been comfortable talking about Veronec, and had answered anyway. After an extended silence, I offered up something in return.

"You can ask me your three questions too," I said. "Though I don’t guarantee answers."

[[Tell me more about the no, what are you really game.]]

That had been extremely prompt, and I immediately wondered if I’d been played, but the question wasn’t something that bothered me.

"I’ve been playing no, what are you really? all my life. So, Taia, what are you? I’m Dutch. I mean, where were you born? The Netherlands. Then where are your parents from? The Netherlands. But where were they born? The Netherlands. You know what I mean. Where does your family come from originally?

"And, you know, I can’t even answer their question. They can see that I have Asian ancestry, and they’re asking which, but I don’t know that. My Dad was adopted—he was an actual foundling, left in a police station’s delivery entrance. They never traced his parents, so all he can go by is his looks. After he and my mother married, they spent years working in different Asian countries, trying to answer an unanswerable question. He never was sure what he hoped to achieve—that someone would run up to him in the street and claim him as a long-lost grandson? That he would go to a new country, and suddenly just know that he belonged?"

[[Does he regret the quest?]]

"No: he and my mother would live in a different country every year if they could." I grimaced faintly. "It had more impact on me, because while Nederlands is technically my first language, I mostly only spoke it at home, and when we visited the grandparents at Christmas. I speak with an accent to everyone I’ve ever met. One question left."

Another little pause. Given how quickly Cycogs must be able to think, to support all the conversations they had to be having in Dream Speed, I again suspected dramatic effect.

[[Are you overset by the little intrigue growing in your Challenge group?]]

That left me thoroughly confused, since intrigue meant spies to me. "Huh?"

[[You seem attached to Silent.]]

Understanding dawned, and I laughed. "Amelia and Tornin would step on Silent so hard if he started hitting on me. They keep an eye out for the younger guild members." I tried to think about Silent romantically, and laughed again, but with a wry note. "I don’t think I know Silent well enough."

[[Despite being in your guild since your teens?]]

I shrugged. I trusted Silent to be entertaining, reliable, and free of drama llama tendencies. Meeting him more-or-less in person hadn’t changed that opinion. While I supposed the Core Unit he used was handsome, I’d been too caught up in the stars to even consider the point, and I was not at all interested in trying to explain to Dio the glacial alchemy that led to me caring about a person enough to want them.

"You must get some extreme age difference relationships in The Synergis," I said instead. "But you only have an under/over eighteen flag. Are there any rules to prevent older Bios preying on new adults?"

[[That varies for System and species. Crèche worlds always have age transparency, but even there we don’t forbid May-December relationships—we find it pointless attempting to force Bios to feel or not feel a particular way. But we always ensure that they have avenues of communication and departure.]]

Gazing down into the swirling clouds, I thought again about benevolent dictatorships, and Dio’s apparently boundless interest in what made Bios tick. I’d so much prefer The Synergis without the Cycog microscope, but I had my doubts about humans achieving anything so Utopian. We certainly hadn’t so far.

"Why all the puppet master imagery?" I asked. "That mural isn’t the only time a Challenge has apparently warned us against The Synergis. Dream Watch estimates nearly a quarter of Challenges have a theme of control, or slavery, or hidden string-pulling."

[[Shall I let you into a little secret?]] Dio asked, voice rich with portents.

"Somehow I doubt you will, but sure."

[[The older the Bio, the more quickly they’ll progress through early lan training.]]

As a transparent change of subject, this was very effective. I gaped, immediately thinking of my Oma effortlessly passing me in rank. Not because she’d somehow turned out to be a better gamer than me, but because she had a full life’s experience to strengthen her lan. I felt relieved, embarrassed by that reaction, and very exposed.

"I really hate how in my head you are, Dio."

[[I see that. The true Synergis experience is perhaps not so intimate, since outside of virtual environments, Bios have more ability to limit biometric feeds to their assigned Cycog, should they wish to. And currently, technically, you are closer to being in my head.]]

"I bet Cycogs find us transparent in or out of virtual environments."

[[Always.]] Ter chuckle was rich, but te added in a more serious tone: [[Most Cycog partners are able to judge a need for privacy enough to –]]

"To pretend they can’t see through us?"

[[In a way. To learn your limits, at any rate.]]

Learning my limits was half the problem, but I shrugged and said: "You said something earlier about using the reward of the System Challenge to ask you more questions?"

[[Indeed. Though I perhaps would not have suggested that to you if I’d anticipated the group you formed. Strong, adaptable, cooperative.]]

"Arlen and Imoenne aren’t even eighteen yet," I said, still thinking through the age helps with strength revelation.

[[No, those two are naturally talented. While you, well…]] Te sighed dramatically. [[Still, if you beat the System Challenge, I will answer three questions of any nature. And if you lose…]] Dio’s chuckle was a pantomime of evil anticipation.

"Is losing going to involve forfeiting my soul?"

[[Very likely. Though, if you fail well, perhaps I might let you go with a kiss. Who knows?]]

I made a face. "And then the spell will be broken and I’ll wake up?"

[[Hopefully.]]

Dio hadn’t paused, or changed tone of voice, but there was a quality to ter answer I couldn’t identify. I looked up at tem again, but there were no clues in a drifting mote of light, so I turned my attention back to the planet, and then the complicated question of what kind of custom modal I wanted to wear, and tried not to think too hard about how many people really would sell their soul for The Synergis.