Episode Thirteen: Unnatural Sleep

    Sailing was much more difficult than William thought it would be.  After three days on the boat he could still see the shore.   He pulled the sail around with the various ropes and tried to head out to sea, but never seemed to go quite where he expected.  Sudden changes in the wind often turned him back, or sent him wildly off to one side.
    He had carefully copied the boat exactly from professional blueprints into the computer.  Twenty feet long with a small cabin interior and a deep keel, it was a fine ship.  He had tried to select a ship that could be maintained by one, but would also be comfortable for three or four. 
    Shortly after a meager lunch, he stood behind the wheel and fought the wind.  A strange weariness suddenly overcame him.  He clenched the wheel for support.  He was able to resist for only a few moments before he fell to the floor.  His hands turning the wheel and sail amiss.  He lay silently eyes closed on the heaving deck.  His boat continued to push through the water, unguided.

    Troy Lombardi left the canoe on the shore of the lake reluctantly.  It was a beautiful morning.  He carried a large pack.  The ripples left by the canoe drifted slowly away on the still surface of the lake.  He thought of the canoe he left at the waterfall at the beginning of his first journey.  It was still up on the shore where he had stowed it.  There weren't even any animals to disturb it.
    The wilderness he had so long enjoyed seemed more foreboding now. 
    He had enjoyed the few days of rest he had allowed himself: plenty of food, comfortable furniture, and a bed to sleep in.  William must have done some programing magic with the food stores there.  All the cupboards were always full, even after William had lived there a month.  Every morning started with a hot shower and every evening he warm fire in the hearth.
    Green blades of grass brushed he hand dampening it with dew as he walked toward the mountains.  The peak that he was headed toward looked barren and difficult to climb, but it stood higher than the other peaks.  To his left a canyon cut deep back into the mountains.  An ordinary traveler would have taken that route.  Not nearly as steep and less exposed to the weather. 
    It took him most of the morning to reach the foot hills.  He wasn't excited to climb the barren rock under the beating sun and took his time amid the pleasant meadows and grass covered hills. 
    Around noon he took a short rest for lunch at the base of the mountain, then began to ascend.  Shorty after he resumed his journey, exhaustion filled his being. Without a second thought he dropped into the grass beneath a large tree and fell into a deep sleep.

    “Two down, one to go” said Dean.  He handed an empty syringe to Miss Stratford.  Miss Stratford only nodded and handed him the third and final syringe.

    Trees, trees, trees.  Jim was sick of trees.  He saw less land here than he did in the canyon.  After about a hundred feet or so his vision was a solid wall of trees, and it had been that way for days.  Under normal circumstances he would have through enjoyed the forest.      The trees had large trunks and because all the light was blocked by great leaves there was no shrubbery to impede travel. 
    Jim had always relied on the sun to keep himself oriented, but now he often pulled out the compass to make sure he wasn't going in circles.  For the first two days he moved consistently east, but once on the third day he was surprised to see that he was headed northwest.  After that he carried the compass in his hand and looked at it frequently.
    Early one morning he stopped in his eastward journey.  For the last few days he had made very little progress in land generation and he had a plan to change that.  Where he stopped there was a large tree. Judging by the size of the truck he hoped it poked up above the canopy where he could see the roof of the forest.  Many vines hung from the tree.
    He had to climb a vine strait up the first twenty feet to reach the lowest branch.  All morning he slowly worked his way up the great tree. 
    Soon he was high enough that a fall meant certain death, but he was determined to get above the other trees before turning back.  He needed to see more land.
    When lunch time came he regretted leaving all his food at the base of the tree, but was able to find a few figs.  He could see sunlight streaming down through a ceiling of leaves not to far above him.  The truck of the tree continued upward through them. 
    Using a mixture of vines and branches he continued upward.  Unexpectedly his eyelids became heavy.  Fearing what could happen if he fell asleep in the tree he quickly resumed climbing.  His limbs seemed to be filled with lead. By focusing solely on one motion at a time he pulled himself up a vine while walking up the trunk with his feet. 
    When his head was just below the leaves his feet slipped off the tree.  He hung griping the vine legs hanging limply below.   This can't be happening, he thought.  Where has all my strength gone?  Using up the last of his energy in a quick burst he climbed strait up the vine.  He head exploded into sunlight, and he glimpsed miles of treetops stretching off into the distance before he hands slipped off the vine.  His eyes closed as he fell.  The impact of many branches didn't awaken him from deep sleep.

    Dean lay on one of the empty beds.  “Miss Stratford, I'm ready,” he said.  “Send me in.”

Episode Twelve: A Reason to Live

    “You know, William, this world you have created really is amazing, but there is something missing.  Something I hoped to find.”
    Troy and William were watching the sunset from the lodges balcony.  They sat at a table covered in remnants of a large dinner. Troy had his feet propped up on the table.
    “I never thought it would become a prison.  I sorry things happened this way,” said William.
    “No, its not that.  When I was climbing the stairs up the cliff became glad to be stuck here.  I was off on an adventure with no time time limit.  Finding time to explore had been one of my biggest worries.  But being trapped, I had all the time I wanted.  That feeling only lasted a few days.  After that I was miserable.  At first I blamed it on the lack of any animals.”
    “That is my fault.  I haven't figured out how to make anything with a brain.  They all just fall over dead when the program starts.  So I left them out of this test run.  I was hoping to work with Dean on it.  He understands brains a lot better than I do.”
    Troy laughed.  “I never thought I would miss flies and ants, but even they would be nice to have around.  But it is more than that.  I don't even know what I am looking for.”
    “At least you're looking.”
    Troy wasn't sure what William meant by that, so he just remained quiet.
    “A few days ago when Jim left, I knew I should go with him.  Or better yet go in the opposite direction.  But I am still here.  I don't even have the will to try.  Every night when I go to bed I think to myself, in the morning I will leave and chase the horizon.  And then—well—here I am, still delaying.
    “I hate this place now.  I've been working on it for years, long before you ever hired me.  And now that it is nearing completion, a madman takes control of it and shows me what evil could be done.  This is only the beginning of the crimes that can be committed.  The possibilities for torture and brainwashing are almost endless.  I wanted to open up a world of wonder and excitement.  Instead I created a world of darkness and terror.  I don't deserve to escape.”
    Troy took his feet of the table and put a hand on William's shoulder.  “No, Dean made the terror.  Even if you hadn't made the Endless Frontier it was only a matter of time before Dean hired someone to make a program for his machines.  Most likely their program would have been much worse then yours,  not even resembling reality.  Dean is the criminal, not you.”
    While they were talking the sun had set.  The sky was full of brilliant stars.  Troy noticed a shooting star and marveled at how real the sky seemed.  Soon he saw another streak of light across the sky.   After a while they appeared more and more often.  In his long nights on the plain he had seen shooting stars from time to time, but never as many as there were tonight.  He watched mesmerized as the whole sky filled with them.  Hundreds appearing one after the other randomly across the sky.  There was enough flickering light that the forest shimmered.
    William began to weep, deep painful sobs.  Confused at Williams reaction, and realizing that nothing he could say would help, Troy just stood gazing into heaven, but his hand remained comfortingly on his friends shoulder.
    Fifteen minutes later the meteor slowed and faded away.  Williams voice broke the pervading silence.  “Today is April third.  Sarah's birthday. That meteor shower was for her.  I thought by now I would be able to bring her here and we would watch it together.”
    “It would have been a romantic evening.”
    “I should have married her years ago.”
    “Why didn't you?”
    “I was afraid I wouldn't be a very good husband, too caught up in my work.  Now, I'll never get the chance to tell her I love her.  I won't even see her again.  I've been such a fool.”
    The silence was painful.  Troy wanted to end it, but had nothing to say.  After a moment he turned and walked back into the lodge.  He found his room and prepared for bed.  So much had happened since he woke up that morning at the foot of the mountains.  For a long time he lay on the bed thinking, sleep far from him.
    He heard a knock on the door.  “Troy are you still awake.”
    “Yes.  What are you doing?”
    William cracked open the door and peered in.  “I can't wait for tomorrow.  I'm leaving.  I'll take a canoe and head down the river.  There is a boat for sailing where the river meets the ocean.  I think think that is the best route because a boat will cover ground faster, even if it doesn't take as much memory.”
    “I thought you had given up escaping.  Has something changed, are our chances better than you thought earlier.”
    “No, it looks as bleak as ever.  I guess, I just found a reason to live.  Goodbye Troy.”
    “Wait, don't leave yet,” said Troy climbing out of bed.
    William opened up the door wider.
    “Which way did Jim go.  When I leave in the morning I don't want to accidentally follow him.  We need every square foot the computer will generate.”
    “East.  Jim went east.”
    “I'll go west then. Good luck, Will.” On impulse they embraced each other for a moment.
    Later as Troy slept soundly, William pushed off his canoe and floated into the night.

Episode Eleven: Death is not the Answer

    A blast of pain surged though Troy's body when he hit the ground then evaporated into nothingness.  Sensing that his virtual body had sustained fatal damage the program immediately ceased sending information to his brain.  Once again Troy experienced the void.  The first time it had been enjoyable, his thoughts and feelings were ones of excitement and anticipation.  This time he found his thoughts and emotions to be a chaotic mix of disappointment, fear, and regret.  Anguish consumed him for the few moments he remained in the void.
    Like it had done before, the void vanished as his brain once again received  information.  Troy took one look around then fell to his knees and began sobbing—he was back at the origin, still trapped in the Endless Frontier.   The tears were both of joy and sorrow: joy that he was still alive, and sorrow that he had not escaped.  Minutes later when he finally regained his composure, he stood and tried to think rationally.
    Why did I come back here? he thought.  William said that I would either truly die, or wake up in the portal.  Well, I guess he was wrong.
    Troy went down to the stream and washed his face so that if William was still at the lodge he wouldn't know that he had been crying.  He found William a short time latter in the main lobby of the lodge.  He had various papers scattered all over the large wooden table.  He was concentrating on some calculations and didn't notice when Troy walked into the room.
    “You were wrong,” said Troy still standing in the doorway.
    “Don't scare me like that,” said William, startled, “I thought you were a hundred miles away by now.  I'm glad your back though. I thought I might never see you again. Why did you come back?”
    “If you had been right I wouldn't have come back at all, but you were wrong.  I died, William.  I fell off a cliff.  The next thing I knew I was standing on the origin.  I was expecting to die, or perhaps by a slim chance wake up in the portal and escape.”
    “That's impossible.  The code I wrote turns off the mind bridge equipment.  Are you sure you died?”
    “I jumped off a cliff, a big one. It was probably three or four hundred feet high. Just a moment or so after I hit the ground I reappeared here.”
    William sat thoughtfully for a moment.  “I honestly don't know why that happened.  It doesn't make any sense to me, but I'd rather think about it later.  Some things have happened that you should know.”
    Troy walked in and had a seat across the table from William.
    “A few days ago another man appeared,” William continued, “His name is Jim Senoma.  Apparently he is Dean's brother.  According to him, Dean is running out of money and wanted help to hide our bodies at a different location.  When Jim refused to help Dean turned on him and trapped him in here with us.  Jim is afraid that Dean will kill us to hide the evidence if he can't get money fast.”
    “Where is he? Jim I mean.”
    “He left that day.  He is trying to escape.”
    “Didn't you explain to him that the landscape goes on forever in all directions?”
    “Actually, he helped me realize that there is a way out.”
    “Go on,” said Troy.
    “The landscape ends just out of sight, right beyond the horizon.  As you know the computer creates the landscape as you explore it.  Well all that landscape is saved on the computers hard drive.  There can only be as much landscape as there is memory in the computer.  When the computer runs out of memory the horizon will stop moving.  You would be able to walk to the edge of the world and step out into nothingness.  The code I wrote for that scenario is similar to the code for death.  You should wake up in the portal.  But now I'm not sure.”
    “Why didn't you think of that in the first week when still had time?” said Troy in a moment of anger.  “No, I'm sorry.  I know you were trying.  At least we know what to do now.  You said Jim already left, chasing the horizon.”
    “Yes, he didn't waste a moment once he had a glimmer of hope.  But as I said, I'm not sure if it will work anymore.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because, when you jumped . . .” William's mind froze on that word as he realized that it meant Troy hadn't fallen by accident.  Deciding not to bring it up he quickly resumed talking.  “When you died the sensation didn't cause your brain to stop functioning.  Which means, according to the code I wrote you should have woken up in the Portal, but that's not what happened.  You are back here.  The code for the horizon is practically the same.”
    “Just curious, how much landscape can the computer hold before it runs out of space?”
    Humph.  William waved his hand at all the papers on the table. “I've been trying to figure that out for days.  The truth is I don't know.  At first I thought it was more that we could ever explore in a lifetime, but my rough calculations have given me a little more hope.  Depending on how many hard drives Dean's assistant connected, the total landscape could be anywhere from roughly the size of Ohio to as big as the entire continental US.  It also depends on the kinds of landscape the computer generates.  Ocean, for example only takes about half the memory per square cubic foot as rock.  However, a complex structure, like a tree,  takes more than double the memory of rock.  Every time I try and figure it out I run into so many unknowns I end up getting nowhere.”
    “So, any day now Dean is going to kill us all, and our only hope is to force the computer to generate more landscape with the slim hope that we will actually fill the hard disk space.  And even if we do, the horizon is likely to just send us back to the origin,” said Troy.
    “That about sums it up,” said William.

Episode Ten: A Lucky Stone

    A drop of sweat rolled down Jim's clenched jaw.  His fingers strained to maintain their grip on the quarter inch ledge above him as he tried to support himself with only one hand.  His feet occupied a slightly better spot on the rock face, but the rock ahead looked smooth and impassable.
    It had been a slow and exhausting climb up the end of the box canyon.  That morning when he saw the fifty foot wall of rock he had almost turned back, but the canyon had been long with cliffs on both sides.  At first he hadn't noticed them.  The mouth of the canyon was wide and the sides sloped up toward the ridges on either side.  He had stayed at the bottom of the canyon mostly for the water.  In his haste to leave he had taken a singe water pouch that he easily emptied each day.  When he noticed the cliffs he recognized that he was in the worst place possible, and the computer was generating very little land, but he rationalized that he would eventually reach the peak that the canyon seemed to be heading toward and see the entire landscape from there anyway.  The canyon proved much longer than he expected.  Turning back now would mean days of wasted effort.
    Now clinging to the edge of the cliff he doubted his initial judgment.  He had examined the wall carefully before making the attempt and knew there were no handholds near the top.  Draped around his neck he carried a twenty foot length of rope.  On the end he had tied a stick with two knives forming a crude hook.
    Using his free hand he pulled the coiled rope over his head and let most of it fall.  The jerk of the rope on his belt, where he had tied the other end, surprised him and almost made him fall.  Slowly he swung the hook in circles letting out a few feet of rope.
    A few days earlier he had gashed his hand on sharp rock.  He had stopped the bleeding with a  spare shirt, but he worried about infection.  He started a fire to heat some water and sterilize the wound. By the time he had gathered dry wood, made some kindling, and lit the fire—all with only one hand—the pain suddenly vanished.   Amazed he had removed the bandage, brushed the dried blood of his skin, and flexed his hand.  It was as though he had never been cut.  After that he no longer feared injury.
    This, however, was different.  If he fell from this height and landed wrong he would die.  William had been clear about that.  With a great thrust he threw the rope toward the top of the cliff.   As soon as his hand let go of the rope it snapped back to the wall stabilize his hold, but it was too late.  One foot had slipped on the rock in the throwing motion.  For a few tantalizing seconds he clung to the wall before his fell backward away from the wall.   Instinctively he pushed of the wall with one foot turning himself to face his fall.
    He flailed his arms wildly searching for anything to grasp.  Skin slid and tore against rough rock and bones creaked and cracked from seemingly random impact points as he tumbled.  Finally he landed on the canyon floor chest first blasting all air from his lungs.  The struggle to breath helped him ignore the pain enough to turn and lay on his back, his left arm was obviously broken, jutting out in the wrong direction.  He couldn't feel either of his legs and didn't bother looking.    When a breath finally came it came with pain.  Broken ribs seemed to burst into flame with every heaving of his chest.
    He felt himself blacking out and feared that if he did he might never wake up.  In his mind he focused on images of Troy Lombardi and William Kilgore laying in the portal and this time included himself on one of the beds that had been empty.  His eyes were wide open, but his vision was narrowing and becoming fuzzy around the edges.  He brought Dean's face to mind and tried use anger to hold back the darkness, but all he felt was an overwhelming sadness.  As his eyesight vanished he thought of Susan and the kids.  I must live, he thought, they need me.
    Hours later he awoke from his slightly uncomfortable position on the ground.  His clothes were in tatters, but his body retained no mark from the fall.  He hadn't noticed at the time, but in his pain he had tore at the ground with his good hand.  There in his hand was a small stone about the size of a large marble.  It was ordinary gray with a thin stripe of white around the middle.
    Lucky, he thought. That's what Michael would say.  Michael had a bucket full of rocks he had collected from the neighborhood.  Each for some reason had caught his eye and become the object of his awe.  Michael would have loved this one.  Jim pocketed the rock and looked back up the cliff.  There hanging from the top was the rope were it had successfully snagged.
    That evening he watched the sunset from the mountain peak.