that I have to put my son in mortal danger in order to have a chance at him recovering?”
“Mr. Williams,” the doctor said with surprising gentleness, “you’re not putting him in mortal danger. Recovery from a traumatic brain injury on this scale is…rare. It’s dangerous.”
Amber could have hit him for saying that. She thought she saw the light in the senator’s eyes die a little.
“The reason I did my research,” DuBois said, “is because the human brain has a remarkable capacity to heal itself—if it can be reached socially. Locked away in your own head is a terrible way for most people to be. You’re not putting your son in danger by doing this, you’re giving him the chance to get out of it. What happened moments ago could have happened at any time in the ICU. The only difference is that now, it serves a purpose. It’s reminding his brain how to work.”
Amber stared at him. She hadn’t expected that monologue to turn out inspiring but somehow, it had. She snuck a glance at the senator and saw that even he looked more hopeful now.
“I see,” he said. “Is there anything more we can do tonight?”
“No,” the doctor told them. “We’ve hired nursing staff, so between us and the nurses, there will always be someone taking care of your son. You two should rest.”
“Thank you,” Williams said. He looked at each of them. “Thank you to all of you. Your work is giving my son the chance to come back to us.”
Then, as if exhausted by his show of charming, senatorial thanks, he seemed to collapse in on himself slightly and hunched his shoulders as he went to take his wife’s hand.
“Thank you all,” she told them as well, and her smile was warm.
Justin woke in the same field with the same damned rusty sword—and a health bar that was very low.
“AI?” he asked.
“Yes, Player underscore 009?” The voice was infuriatingly bland and noncommittal.
“My name is Justin,” he told it. If it wanted to be smug, goddammit, it would be smug while it used his correct name.
“Noted, Player underscore 009.”
He sighed and considered his options. “AI, please restart the tutorial for me.”
“I’m sorry, Player underscore 009, that is not an option at this time.”
“Why not?” he asked and anger stirred. He reached up to take the VR headset off but his fingers didn’t connect with anything. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could feel them connecting with the headset.
Now that he thought of it, what could he feel? He wasn’t quite sure.
“May I suggest replenishing your health?” the AI asked. Its smugness had returned in full force.
“Yeah, how exactly am I supposed to—oh, the weird rabbit legs.” Justin jabbed with a finger until one of the packs opened and then stabbed at the rabbit legs, almost deleted them by accident, and finally managed to consume one of them. After the usual sound of video game chewing, his health bar climbed into the green and finally, to full.
“Good,” he said. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
There was no answer, but the marker for his food scavenging quest flashed.
He did not like this AI.
With a sigh, he set off toward the stand of trees and the stream again. When the first rabbit dashed across his path, he raised the sword and waited for the next. With two more weird rabbit drumsticks, his quest was completed.
LEVEL 2 flashed across the screen with a triumphant burst of music.
“You have achieved Level Two,” the AI told him.
“Yes, despite your best efforts,” he retorted. “Now where’s that fucking wolf? I want to avenge—well, myself.” He set off through the grass and his feet crunched on the ground. This time, when he heard the growl, he was ready. He turned with a lunge and a slash and the wolf yipped in pain. It danced away sideways to crouch and bare its teeth.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Justin asked. “I came back and I’m Level Two now, bitch. That’s right, a hundred percent better. What are you gonna do with—no bitey!” He threw himself sideways as the beast snarled and charged, and his wild strike missed.
Fair enough. Physics was physics, after all, and apparently, this game had more realistic physics than usual.
“Clumsy, Level Two,” the AI announced.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” he yelled in response. “I don’t have Bunny Slayer Level Two yet, but I have Clumsy Level Two? That is bitchy.”
The AI made no response. Justin supposed that having won the argument by virtue