20. Something Unresolved
Something Unresolved
Dylan
The trip into the Tapeworld always got her heart pumping. But this must be just another day for Isaak, strider extraordinaire.
She was a bit worried by how fast she’d caught feelings for this man. But, then again, this man came with an invitation to a kaleidoscopic hallucinatory realm few even knew about, much less had visited. No. I’ve always had a crush on him. I simply never thought any of this would happen.
Dylan had felt insecure for years now, tired of waiting for something to happen in her life.
Thoughts of her identity – as a climate change activist, freedom fighter, and environmentalist – were at the forefront of her mind.
Dylan Colt, heir to the Apocalypse Revolt.
In a Kingdom where ninety percent of the population was vegan and whole Tech Kingdoms were devoted to halting climate change, did she even have a reason to exist?
The dreamland she’d been invited into had given her a new purpose, or a chance of finding one, at least.
Out of the swirling madness of a tape-tube popped Isaak. Her eyes locked onto his while he gained form in front of her, her own feet already planted on the fake concrete slab floor of the Boulevard. It started a tingling in her stomach.
First his head appeared, quickly followed by his taut neck and chest, while his clothes assembled around him, the t-shirt sliding over his chest like Superman ripping open his shirt but in reverse.
Then his arms, legs, and booted feet shimmered into view.
By the time he unfroze, she realised she’d been staring and looked away, shrugging apologetically.
Her breathing was rapid. Logging in with him was the biggest excitement of her life.
“Hey, Dee.” His smile was effortless, his confidence boosted in the Tapeworld. Because his knee didn’t trouble him here, or because of all his other powers?
“Hi, Zak.” Good Goddess, girl. Get a grip. “Boulevard’s looking quiet today.” The street was nearly empty, only a few other striders here and there, keeping to themselves, no different than commuters in London.
He nodded. “Why don’t you try calling your cat?”
“Miss Kitty? Sure.” She waved her hands in almost an incantation, curious to see the little bugger again. Shortly after, the cat plopped into view.
“Hello, baby.” She knelt, petting Kitty’s head. The cat closed her eyes in appreciation, emitting a soft purr.
“Hi, Dee-lan!” Kitty was always in good spirits. Dylan was still confused about what exactly she was if she wasn’t AI. Was she a creature born in the Tapeworld? Was she a real cat with a piece of tape on her head? So many questions.
Miss Kitty joined them as they walked around the Boulevard.
East London had nothing on this place. The buildings thrummed with effervescence.
Some of them were updating in place, flipping through different facades, zapping between different architectural styles and periods. It was a parade of neon lights.
The air was pleasant with hints of metal and smoke. In the distance, a constant horizon enveloped the whole area, a dark sky tinted blue and purple, clouds and stars flickering with electricity. It didn’t matter how far you walked, the horizon and the clouds always looked the same distance away.
“You know, we’re just walking out of habit,” he said, hands in his jeans pockets.
“What do you mean?”
He smiled. “I could open a portal to my space anytime. But I like the ritual.”
His demeanour boosted her confidence, helping to calm her anxiety and nerves. They meant to investigate the box he’d stolen, and despite her earlier boldness, she was beginning to fear what that might bring.
Maybe she’d get to meet Astrid, and tell her to her face that she was a bitch… So there were positives.
Isaak led her around a corner onto a side road. It didn’t lead anywhere. No buildings on either side. The alleyway was empty, with only the blue-purple sky in the distance.
“It’s like a video game. There’s nothing useful down there, so the tape doesn’t render anything,” Isaak explained, catching her staring down the bare side of the road.
“Do you think whoever created the Tapeworld is a game designer?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Probably. I learned most of this stuff from my time at the Lazarus, back when I was a neophyte. Knowing how a game engine works gave me an edge when trialling for the team. Later, when I first popped the tape on my head, everything clicked.”
He drew a circle in mid-air and a blue shimmering portal materialised in front of them.
“Let’s get going.” Ripples of blue, pink, and gold unfurled inside the portal’s oval shape.
She stepped aside and looked around the outside of it.
It was less than a millimetre deep, yet looking into it from the front, it seemed to be a vast corridor.
They walked into the portal, arriving at his tape-space, which turned out to be at the summit of an active volcano – or the simulation of one. Screens lined a sleek desk set-up.
“Oh, wow,” she said, taking it all in. “It’s a bit supervillain’s lair, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “It’s supposed to be like Greenland. It was beautiful there before the data centres.”
She couldn’t deny it was beautiful. Black sand, green mountains, the glow of the lava.
“Sit anywhere you like.” Isaak walked over to a stack of boxes. He took one from the middle of the pile, after which all the boxes that were above it shuffled down to take the removed box’s space. Physics be damned. They simply auto-sorted. Practical.
Isaak set down the box on a floating island table, and took out a smaller box from inside. It was wooden with pearl inlay.
She walked over to the table and sat on a high chair.
“This is it,” he said, gesturing at it.
Dylan traced the markings on the box with a finger. “Any idea what it says?”
He studied the lines and shapes, scratching his cropped beard. “Could be the same language that bot spoke.” She didn’t need to ask which bot. There was an unspoken agreement between them that the man he shot was a bot, until they had any evidence otherwise.
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. Could be! If they’re connected, which wouldn’t surprise me. Come on then, let’s get it open!”
Dylan was hoping for a complex puzzle, involving them deciphering the writing to figure out how to open the box.
But Isaak quickly found and pressed a recessed button on the back of the pearlescent box.
“Oh, cool…”
The various concentric plates around the central element on the top of the box shifted into other arrangements of metal plates. The panels receded around the box, disappearing in a blur, until the box was open.
This was getting interesting. Dylan lifted herself higher on the chair to peer into it.
Nestled in red velvet lay the hilt of a katana, a black core with gold diamond shapes along it.
Isaak picked the hilt up and held it in front of him, pointing it away from her. The missing blade formed of its own accord, steel rising into a sharp edge.
Dylan gasped. “Whoa!”
It was a flawless katana, its perfection clear under the red-gold light of the volcano in the distance. Isaak moved it carefully, turning it left and right to examine it.
“Do you know what you’re doing with that thing?” Dylan asked. ReSports was strictly a ranged-weapons game.
His voice was low, near a whisper. “Honestly… I don’t.” He tipped his neck back to better observe the weapon, then raised the grip to his eyes. “There’s an inscription. G, U, N, K…Wait, I recognise this.”
The blade began to change shape, as if in response to his voice. He nearly dropped it. As he struggled to keep it from falling, it stopped changing shape, reverting to its original blade form.
They both looked at each other, mouths open.
What the hell is going on?
“The inscription,” Isaak said. “It’s the name of an old game I used to play as a kid… Gunkatana.”
Dylan’s index finger was between her tight lips. She felt the need to nibble it, but stopped herself short of doing it. She frowned. “Why would—”
“GUNKATANA MODEL XR01 at your service.”
Isaak nearly dropped the sword again. “Holy shit! It can speak?”
Dylan gave up and started biting her nail. She’d had no idea what to expect from the box, but the very last thing she’d expected was a talking sword.
“Yes.” Its voice was a sibilant slash.
“Are you an AI?” Dylan asked.
“Yes.”
Okay. At least this wasn’t a sentient sword with a piece of tape stuck to the side of its… hilt?
“We should ask it some questions,” Dylan said quietly, not sure if the sword would listen if she didn’t address it directly. “See what it can tell us?”
“Good idea.” Isaak held the sword out in front of him. “This thing is heavy. Anyway, uh… how are you?”
Dylan squinted at him.
Isaak shrugged, mouthing, I don’t know!
They waited a few seconds, but the sword didn’t respond.
“Hello?” Dylan prompted, hesitating to get too close to it.
“I am sorry. No one has ever asked me that before.”
A talking sword with abandonment issues?
“Always a first time for everything,” Isaak told it.
There was no response again.
“I said—”
“GUNKATANA MODEL XR01 at your service.”
“Got it! Thanks. Gunkatana.”
The blade hummed in response, and it glowed, like its electrical potency was charging, hinting at further power.
“Who created you, Gunkatana?” Dylan asked.
The discordant voice sounded from the blade again. “Why do you ask me these questions?”
“We’re trying to figure out what you are, and why you would be in this box, and why the box was in someone’s Tapeworld space,” Isaak explained.
Dylan nodded at him, approvingly.
“I was there because I was placed there.”
“By who?”
“By whom.”
Dylan chuckled. “You’re quite cheeky for a sword.” She stopped her nibbling, a smirk on her face.
“I am?” It sounded confused.
“You know, on your bottom…” Isaak gulped, cheeks flushing. “On the hilt at the bottom of your blade, I mean, there’s a slot. Like you can load something into you?”