“Like an operating system?” Dan squinted as he replied. “I jailbroke my phone once in college, if that’s the sort of thing you’re talking about.”
“No, no.” Henry shook his head. “Like in a role-playing game or one of those stories where someone goes to another world. The system provides notifications to the player about their progress, achievements, and abilities.”
“In that case, no, I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Dan shrugged. He looked to Samantha for support, only for the woman to shrug back at him.
“Come on,” Henry begged them. “Blue text? Popping up in the middle of your vision? Making a dinging noise? Sometimes with a sarcastic personality and makes fun of the user for poor decisions? Is this ringing any bells whatsoever?”
Dan and Dr. Weathers shared another blank look. Even the guard in the conference room looked uncomfortable and lost.
“Well that’s what we’re going to make.” Ibis sulked. “Right now, Daniel is the only one who can even perceive the magic, so any interaction is going to have to be through his eyes. We are going to need our sensors hooked up to his mind and ocular nerves at all times if we want to have any real chance of studying magic in a systematic and scientific way.”
“The Thoth Foundation has a suite of medical nanites with a dispersed quasi AI that we’re going to inject into Dan,” Henry explained. “I’ve had the software guys working on it ever since Samantha told me about his breakthrough. Right now, it will just monitor and record everything that Dan does or observes, but as we learn more, the plan is to update the AI to be self-learning. With time, it will help Dan analyze his actions in real time and allow him to replicate anything that works. The hope is that we can ‘save’ Dan’s muscle memory and neurological patterns into a macro that he can call up on demand.”
“Wait, what do you mean medical nanites?” Dan asked with a frown. “I’ve been following robotics since I was a kid, and I know for a fact that no one has gotten further than the most theoretical of testing stages on that kind of thing. This is going to be safe, right?”
“Oh it’s perfectly, mostly safe, stop being such a baby,” Henry retorted. “The nanites are experimental, but we’ve tested them a couple times with no major side effects. Unfortunately, they aren’t really at the levels that science fiction has promised yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t useful. They more or less take over your immune system and supercharge it. They keep you healthy, in shape, end aging, and can instantaneously perform almost any medical test or examination you can think of. A bunch of rich old codgers have been working on them for the last fifteen years to try to live forever.”
“Isn’t this a little over the top?” Dan asked as he pointedly ignored commenting on Mr. Ibis’ age, wealth, and access to the nanites. “Instead of injecting me with some experimental robots that could make me go all ‘Borg… Heck, as long as we’re going all video game science fiction ‘supersoldier,’ you can make it sound like a sexy lady and shove me into some body armor. I’m sure it would be a lot more efficient for me to get feedback from her than trying to force our research into the format of ability scores and stat updates.”
Henry fell silent, the cheer fleeing his face in a second. Dan opened his mouth to comment when Samantha grabbed his arm.
“Just a second, Mr. Thrush and I have to talk about something I just remembered him mentioning last month,” Samantha said loudly and unconvincingly as she pulled Dan from the conference room. As soon as they were in the hallway, she hissed, “Look, you can’t bring up that series to the chairman. It’s the one science fiction series that outsold Realm of Legends Online and Myths of the Fallen. Those were his biggest hits, and he takes those sales records very personally.”
“Okay, but–” Dan tried to answer, only for Doctor Weathers to cut him off.
“No excuses. You’re going to go back in there and tell him that his idea is great, and that you’re excited to participate. The chairman might be eccentric, but he’s the source of all of the Foundation’s money. If we’re going to make history here, I need that funding.”
“But he’s using me as a human guinea pig,” Dan whined. “Whatever he’s about to do sounds incredibly painful and completely untested. Worse, I’m not sure that it’s necessary. There are at least five different ways to monitor me while we experiment with magic that don’t involve experimental nonsense that could easily cripple or murder me.”
“Dan, this is why I do better with women than you do.” She rolled her eyes. “All I hear are complaints and indecision out of you. No one is going to date you until you learn to stand up for yourself. Plus, you gave up your right to gripe about being a guinea pig when you ate a handful of alien tech. Where is that confidence? Where is your excitement to venture forth into the unknown? When I got that call from you, I thought you were finally growing a little bit of a backbone.”
She shook her head slowly, clicking her tongue with disappointment at Dan. He opened his mouth to object again only for her to glare at him. He wilted.
“He likes his video games.” She shrugged. “He knows that after he puts the groundwork in developing magic, everyone else is going to copy him. He wants magic to mimic his games and books, and he has the money, so he’s going to make magic resemble his games and books. Seriously Dan, it’s a lot of money.”
Chastened, Dan trudged back into the conference room where Henry was still brooding. Even the security guard, silent until now, was chatting with him in an unsuccessful attempt to cheer the old man up. Dan sighed.
“Doctor Weathers reminded me about how much fun sword and sorcery video games are.” Dan winced. He had no talent for lying, but luckily no one cared. “I think you’re right, Mr. Ibis. We should do that system thing you talked about. It sounds swell.”
“Great, my boy!” Henry immediately lit up. “The tech guys are ready to go right now; let’s head over and get started. No reason to delay making history.”
Dan’s head swam as the chairman practically dragged him through the complex. Doctor Weathers followed closely as they passed through what seemed like a mile of sterile metal hallways. At some point, they picked up a second guard and then a third.
He eyed them nervously. Clearly, they were venturing from a secure area of the compound to a zone that was so restricted that it probably didn’t officially exist. Still, the steadily-accumulating stone-faced guards did little to calm his hammering heartbeat.
By the time they reached the research and development part of the building, almost ten armed men and women were part of their convoy. As the chairman gave a fingerprint, verbal password, and retinal scan to pass a security door, he couldn’t help but notice that at least half of the security guards were watching him uncomfortably closely.
Inside, they were quickly ushered to a room that resembled a doctor’s office, except there were straps on the examination table and locks on the door.
The outside of the door.
Dan stopped walking, only for a hand to land heavily on his shoulder. Samantha leaned in and whispered in his ear.
“It’s a lot of money Dan. A lot.”
“This doesn’t look like it’s going to be pleasant,” he hesitantly whispered back, eyes darting to the inscrutable medical equipment lining the walls of the room.
“Don’t worry about it, Dan,” she smiled, a slightly predatory gleam in her eyes. “It’s all just a security precaution to stop industrial espionage. As long as you don’t plan on stealing anything, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Twenty minutes later, Dan was strapped to the table and regretting ever trusting Doctor Weathers. Everyone but her, one security guard, and two men in white lab coats had left the room. He was more than a little worried about the fact that everyone but him had put on gas masks. Not quite as worried as he was about one of the anonymous doctors carrying a two-foot-long syringe over to where he was confined. That occupied most of his attention.
“I don’t know about this Sam.” Dan’s eyes didn’t leave the gigantic syringe. It gleamed menacingly at him in the room’s sterile light.
“Think of it this way, Dan.” Sam’s voice was muffled by the gas mask. “I’m going to stick this in you, and it’s going to make you rich and young forever. Plenty of people would jump at an offer like that.”
“Gross,” Dan managed a weak smile, his heart thudding in his chest as she moved closer to him.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “That’s what I said to my dissertation advisor, too. Now get ready, this is going to hurt like hell.”
He glanced down at his arm as he felt a brief prick on the back of his hand. One of the masked figures had hooked him up to an IV. His vision blurred as he looked back up at Sam. Dan tried to ask her a question, but his mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls. He blinked, but his eyes didn’t open again as conscious thought ground to a halt.
Dan opened his eyes in a fog. The room swam around him, and he blinked again against the harsh light. It felt like every hungover Saturday morning from college had combined together and bored a hole into his skull, but at least he could think. He stretched slightly, his muscles sore as hell. Whatever he had been through, he’d be feeling it for the next couple of days.
“Water,” he croaked. One of the men in lab coats brought him a paper cup and poured it in his mouth for him. It didn’t seem like they were going to let him up anytime soon. It was unclear if this precaution was to protect him from the postoperative weakness or to protect them from him. Before he could follow the line of reasoning any further, a spike of pain drove through his left eye.
His vision blurred for a second, then words appeared in the corner of his sight. They were simple, scrolling blue text that didn’t interfere with his vision of the objects behind him. At least that was something; he didn’t want whatever had happened to him to distract him and make him drive off the freeway.
Ocular connection established, performing diagnostics.
English Language detected. English preference saved to settings.
Voice activation now enabled.
Thank you <USER> for participating in the Thoth Foundation closed Alpha testing of The System version 0.02. Please perform baseline testing so that starting attributes can be assessed and logged.
The writing remained for about two seconds per line of text before slowly fading from his vision. Dan groaned, then immediately winced from the pain. He definitely wanted the armored suit and sexy AI instead. At least he had actually played that game.
