LIGHTNOVELONLINE Episode 3: Top of My Class
Episode 3
Top of My Class
I took stock of my unfortunate circumstances. Drafted into the Marines, no personal memories, no corporeal existence, and sentenced to a lengthy term of military service in the form of interstellar combat.
It was fucked up.
As I considered the significance of the term “interstellar combat”, I realized that without hands, I would be unable to manipulate the cursor in my HUD. There was no way to access the help desk if I couldn’t move the cursor. Just then, I noticed that when I blinked my eyes, or whatever visual simulation had replaced my eyes, the cursor became highlighted. With the cursor highlighted, it followed my gaze across my field of vision.
By focusing on the USMC icon and blinking again, I could open the help desk. This small victory lifted my spirits. A menu popped up on the screen and I quickly found the FAQs. Blinking and scrolling down the list, I began browsing. The questions themselves, provided a sobering insight into my predicament.
Q: Why am I here?
Q: Can I appeal my sentence?
Q: What is a universal combat consciousness?
Q: What happened to my memories?
I clicked on the FAQ about appealing my sentence. Despite my deepening depression, I was still clinging to a sliver of hope that there was some kind of “easy button” hidden in the FAQs.
Q: Can I appeal my sentence?
A: No. Your sentence is final and there are no appeals processes currently available.
Shit.
Even though I wasn’t really expecting good news, it was still devastating to have my last bit of hope crushed. Sinking into fatalistic resignation, I started clicking on random FAQs to pass my remaining time until the next “training cycle”.
Absently clicking on the “What is a universal combat consciousness?” FAQ, I began reading the answer.
“The universal combat consciousness (UCC), is the heart of the Marine Corp’s semi-autonomous weapons arsenal. By using a digital facsimile of a human consciousness, instead of an artificial intelligence to operate semi-autonomous weapons systems, the Marine Corps is able to deploy the equivalent of a human soldier on the battlefield, without risking a human life.”
OMG. So, that would explain why I had no physical presence. I had become some kind of “digital facsimile” of myself. I wondered where my physical body was.
Even though the probability of my reoccupying it seemed pretty low under the circumstances, I searched for a related FAQ in the list. Browsing revealed nothing helpful. The closest thing to “Where’s my physical body?” was “Where’s my phone?”
The countdown timer in my HUD indicated that my free time was almost up. Resigned to my immediate fate, I resolved to use every moment of future downtime to find out what had happened to me, and why I was now in the USMC “training module”. Seriously, a module?
The timer counted down to zero before I could finish searching for the FAQ about how to regain access to my memories.
The CGI scene before me, abruptly switched from a bucolic landscape to some kind of virtual boot camp. My introduction to life in the USMC was now complete, down to the virtual drill instructor standing before me. Obviously, an AI, it began barking orders and dispensing abuse like a DI on steroids.
As I stealthily looked around, I realized a strange detail. I was the only ‘boot’ in this virtual boot camp. As much as I appreciated the personal attention, it would have been nice to have a few classmates to deflect some of the DI’s focus.
Questions were yelled at me in rapid fire succession, yet I found I could answer them just as quickly and without hesitation. They were primarily about advanced weapons systems. I wondered how I could know the answers, having never studied any of the topics. Furthermore, it was surreal to find that one part of my consciousness could analyze my performance, while another part of it continued to answer the test questions in real time.
The questions paused briefly, as the DI’s image suddenly froze. It was as if the system was reloading. The steady stream of questions subsequently resumed. Now, the questioning turned from operation to maintenance of the same weapons. Again, I effortlessly responded to the continuous flow of questions until there was another pause.
The virtual DI abruptly glitched, then switched into congratulatory mode. “Well done boot!”
A metric appeared in the upper left-hand corner of my HUD. It was some kind of score; (1551/1551 = 100%). It seemed that I had aced my first boot camp quiz by answering every question correctly.
The DI then announced, “You’ve earned your first award.”
A small medallion, bearing the number 10, replaced my test score. It wasn’t exactly clear what that meant, so I asked, “What is this?”
“You have been granted 10 minutes of access to your memories!” I have to admit to being underwhelmed with a mere 10 minutes of access to the only connection with my past life.
The DI continued “Enjoy reliving your life, boot.”
His CGI generated grin didn’t seem anywhere close to sincere. I cursed the algorithm that had put me here and certainly didn’t believe I could enjoy reliving my lifetime in just 10 minutes.
“10 minutes to relive my life? Seriously? That’s bullshit!”
The DI quickly responded “Okay, have it your way. Access to your memories is hereby rescinded.”
My award medallion vanished, and the DI abruptly disappeared. Then the lights went out and I found myself immersed in a darkness far blacker than seemed possible. I wasn’t at all sure what I had just done, but I got a strong vibe that I had really fucked up.