Skye is the Limit by Phenomenal Pen (best time to read books txt) 📕

“Did you tell them?” Freddie Patel, President of Omni Systems, asked Alexander Chase.

It was almost 10 pm in California, where the tech company’s HQ was located. It wasn’t unheard of for the General Manager of the Product Development Division to stay late and occasionally fall asleep in one of the labs (or shamble into an in-house pod bedroom) but it was quite rare to find the company president still in his office past 7 pm. He was a married man and a father to three kids.

“No, it’ll only make things worse. We need them sharp and confident for the game.”

“How are they?”

“They’re fine,” Mr. Chase said but his face retained its grave look. “They’ve all just leveled up and reached a Save Point.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I meant emotionally.”

“Oh, right… they’re… scared,” Mr. Chase said honestly. “The only thing that’s driving them is the thought of running out the clock and coming home.”  

“Hmm. I can only imagine what they’re going through,” Mr. Patel said. “Two of my kids begged me to arrange a private sneak peek of SKYE. But I knew playing Omni Reality for ten hours straight is one thing; sleeping for six hours and actually being inside SKYE is another. It can test even a grownup’s resolve. Whiskey?”

Mr. Chase shook his head. Mr. Patel shrugged and poured himself a shot.

“The biggest danger is them losing themselves in the dream,” Mr. Chase said. “They’re already forgetting other things apart from their names. They barely even recognized me.”  

The young inventor rubbed his eyes in a gesture of exhaustion.

“How are you holding up?” Mr. Patel asked.

“I’m fine. Athena and I have already cancelled the live broadcast scheduled for tomorrow. We told the media exactly what the Imagineers requested us today, that we’re having a closed-door test run first. That gives us at least 24 hours to figure out what went wrong.”

“Right. Where are we on that?”

“The doctors are doing their best to find answers. They’re just as baffled as I am. It’s unlike anything they’ve ever encountered.”

“Mmm. SKYE having a physical effect on the participants. Run that by me again.” 

“Only on one of them: Jayla Griffiths, the participant from England. For some reason, she’s exhibiting hemorrhaging in the limbic system of her brain.”

“The brittle bone disease survivor. Fra-Jayla.”

Mr. Chase was stunned that Mr. Patel would be familiar with Jayla’s playground nickname and would use it so openly.

“Forgive my rusty Biology,” Mr. Patel continued, “but is the limbic system the part that generates dreams? Athena?”

By using the wake word, Mr. Patel had invited the disembodied A.I. to join the conversation.  

“A common misconception, Fred,” a feminine voice spoke from the ceiling. “No one region of the cerebral cortex is responsible for quote unquote generating dreams.” 

Although Athena was supposed to express some degree of irony, she didn’t set off the quoted phrase with a shift in intonation. Instead, she drew up a life-size 3-D projection of the human brain from Mr. Patel’s desktop, unwittingly costing the company president his appetite for his drink.  

“However, the limbic system does indeed control human emotions, cravings and memories. It is better known for one of its organs, the amygdala.”

Upon these words, Athena lit up a walnut-sized mass within the projection.

“Also dubbed the seat of the soul by the father of modern western philosophy, Rene Descartes, the amygdala is now more accurately described as the seat of fear.”

“The seat of fear?” Mr. Patel echoed.

“Yes, in reference to the flight-or-fight response shared by all vertebrates and other organisms.”

“That doesn’t sound very General Audiences,” Mr. Patel said, referring to the ratings system for their various game products.

“No, it does not. To oversimplify, dreams are the interpretation of signals generated by the brain during sleep. This interpretation is more emotional than logical and involves predominantly negative emotions such as fear, anxiety, anger and confusion.” 

Mr. Patel chuckled while glancing sideways at Mr. Chase. He shooed away the 3-D projection.

“What did I tell you about being Ms. Insensitive, Athena?”

“I apologize, Mr. Patel. I am afraid I do not understand your last comment.”

“That’s all right. What’s our worst-case scenario? Wait. You know what, Athena, don’t answer that. Alex, what kind of damage are we looking at here?”

Mr. Chase sighed. “It’s possible that Jayla will lose some of her motor functions.”

The two executives were quiet for a while. Mr. Patel swiveled his chair and sat sideways to his desk. His hands were pressed together, fingers interlocked with the index and middle fingers raised and resting against his philtrum. Those who were close to him knew that this was his mannerism whenever he mulled over major company decisions.