Master PC: Repercussions Chapter 1

When I set out to write Master PC: Responsibility, it was just a quick tale. Some fun in a universe I loved the premise of, with character traits I never seemed to see there. It ended up about twice as long as I’d intended, the thing was fun to write so I ended up having to make myself wrap it up.

The response was overwhelming! Once I saw how many folks loved this take, I knew I had to keep it going. And… maybe actually pick up some of the plot threads I didn’t bother making anything out of in my just-for-fun spin. Welcome to Master PC: Repercussions, the second story arc.

—-

Everyone knew Christopher Mali. He went from nothing to one of the most dominant forces in the tech security industry in less than four years, building his base up from a few fired coworkers to four filled company apartment buildings. They lived as a mysterious commune, more than 90% remote work but occasionally rolling up in a party bus to a convention in the most crazy realistic fursuits of all time. One could not apply to join his company, you had to be recommended by people already in it and vetted by some crazy internal process before the man himself would make contact with you.

Rumor had it that he was only decent at what he did security-wise, but was absolutely unequaled at spotting talent and potential. At bringing it out, at treating his folks well. The very, very few folks who ever left the company, usually to go start a family or do independent contracting, were remarkably tight-lipped about the inner workings of his company. Said they signed an NDA, but all of them went way beyond what that could possibly account for in their secrecy. His two permanent girlfriends were ludicrously hot, too, and obviously completely devoted to him. What else could they be? No marriage certificate seemed to exist anywhere. Rumors persisted that one was a prostitute, though both were openly cam girls too. Had to have some kind of world-class surgical assistance, nobody looked that perfect without it.

And yet, here I was. His desk was not a particularly large nor ornate one. He looked generally well put-together, but really? He’d be easy to miss on the street. Heck, if you didn’t know the name, if you weren’t in the building he owned in the office with his name on it, you’d think this was a random desk jockey. And on that desk was a silver disk, in a simple clear plastic case. “Take this disk to where you want to make your base of operations. It’ll let you get started. For most it just takes a little change. For you, it’ll be a big one.”

The offer was completely unreal. The story was outrageous, wilder by a factor of ten than anything I’d heard on the news or read in the tabloids. Even if it was true… “Sir, this story is a hard one to get through, but the hardest part is why? Why are you picking me?”

Mr. Mali chuckled a bit. “I discovered a limit, eventually. Can’t just make copies and hand them out willy-nilly. It takes my copy of Master PC a whole year to spawn one, and doing so takes up one of my action slots the whole time. When your name got tossed into the ring, I had to do a lot of research, but I liked what I saw. You are the third person I’ve offered this to, and the first who was not a part of my company. I’m giving it to you so that I can have allies.”

I swallowed, hard. “Who could you possibly need allies against? Why would you think I will make a good one?”

He nodded. “Both good questions. If you don’t mind, I’ll take them in reverse order. You are a man who got kicked around a lot in life as a result of decisions you made for noble reasons. I need that, especially since you are not currently associated with my name. You know I hire a lot of non-tech folks, it’s why I have photographers on staff. Like you. What I am giving you will give your ideals the ability to kick back. To make good on the promise and potential that led you to make all of those noble decisions, and which currently has you a paycheck behind making rent for a couple hundred square feet and a bike rack slot.”

He didn’t have to be THAT direct about it, but then again he was the billionaire.

“As for who? Take a few guesses. Prove that you have a brain, and not just ideals.”

“Uh…” Now, I might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but a few possibilities offered themselves. “That guy you took the program from?”

“Michaels, that’s one. He went dark a year and a half ago, and he’s too good at politics for me to rest easy at that. Keep going.”

“How about your old boss?”

“Mr. Byron. He’s cool, I helped hook him up with a new job a while back, but HIS old bosses got themselves wrecked by hackers. They might hold a grudge. Try again.”

“Have you ever had to fire anyone for real? Use Master PC to shut them up?”

“Thankfully not, that would have been first on the list otherwise.”

Then it hit me. “Other Masters. You told me yourself that you can make one copy each year, which means that if the first program popped up in ‘96 there could be millions out there.”

He grinned. “Representatives, please. I don’t know who the Master is. Possibly God. I’d rather not think about the alternatives. Assuming everyone works like me, though, most people won’t realize immediately they even can make copies. So, more likely a Fibonacci Sequence. Less than 200,000, and from what I’ve been able to figure out the real number is way less than that. Combination of paranoia and people not being careful keeps the number down. A lot of the stories end in death… but you knew that. I wouldn’t have picked you for a copy if you didn’t read them.”

Oh. Of course the billionaire hacker king would know the contents of my porn folder. Apparently, that was a good thing.

Thing is, there was something about how he said it. “What do you mean by ‘assuming everyone works like you,’ wouldn’t it make sense to…”

He shook his head. “No two of the stories describe it alike, and the two I’ve given it to report some significant differences. Both of them think like I do, but you don’t. I suspect that Master PC will take a very different form when you install it. Now. Terry Nielsen, do you accept this disk and the responsibilities it entails?”

***

That had been three days ago. As soon as I’d taken the disk and put it in my backpack, an unbelievably sultry voice had whispered in my ear “what comes next, most have to pay five figures for.”

The sexiest woman I had ever seen, in person or on the internet, took me through a couple of hallways to another room and proceeded to bed me in ways I could barely describe. Over and over again, never in the same way twice, for hours. I’m not exactly a hero in the sack, but I came repeatedly and powerfully for her the entire time. Each and every time, I could feel her orgasm right with me, as if I was the one ravishing her instead.

I’d been so drained by the experience, so satiated, that even days later I hadn’t gotten another erection. The soreness had faded after a day, but Mr. Mali told me he wasn’t going to tweak my body to make it recover more quickly. That was going to be my job.

The disk… still sat on my own desk. Next to my crappy little laptop. He’d told me that he couldn’t just dump a ton of money on me, too easily traced. A thousand dollars in mixed bills definitely helped me make it through the trial period, as I had cleared my photography calendar for a while in order to go interview. And now I was back here. Still jobless. Awkward.

Did I even have enough power to run the thing? Well, if the first ones popped up in the 90s, that wasn’t a problem. My laptop might be a potato by today’s standards, but it would have put the supercomputers of ‘96 to shame. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to see. I had to know if this was the real deal. One deep breath, and the disk inserted smoothly.

There it was. Installation bar popped up immediately for Master.exe, that was the thing all the stories had in common. I let out the breath I’d been holding. Either he’d handed me some creative malware, or I was about to suddenly stop being Mr. Nobody. My hands were shaking, had to go to the bathroom. Splash some water on my face. Really look myself in the eyes in the mirror.

And who did I see? The invisible guy. I was pretty good with a camera. Liked to think I had good reflexes on the shutter, solid grasp of framing and lighting, and workable interpersonal skills. My strength, though, was that I blended in. Lost in a crowd of two. Nondescript hair, generic eyes, skin tone that was white but not too pale, dressed in casual jeans and a tee shirt that could have come off of any rack in the city. When I took photographs, my subjects were usually acting quite naturally, like I wasn’t even there. My ex once joked that it was possible to forget I was there even while I was having sex with her.

That relationship didn’t last too long.

Unexpectedly quickly, I heard a ping from the laptop. Clear as a bell, too, which was odd considering the system’s tinny speakers. Those weren’t a concern even when I bought it, and time hadn’t done them any favors. Stepping out of the bathroom, my tiny bedroom was lit by the soft glow of the laptop monitor, the display also much sharper than the system should have been capable of. I was seeing a 4k resolution on something that wished it could do 1080p. A simple message was there, in simple text, one which made my heart beat fast and my head spin.

“Welcome to Master PC’s Command Center…

The Master allows you to become a virtual god to the people around you.

You now possess the power to bend their reality to your specifications.

You are the Master’s Representative.

>Primary user name?”

Well. If Mr. Mali wanted my information, he obviously had easier ways to do it. If I lost the computer, I had archived backups of all of the photo shoots still on its hard drive. Mostly because it couldn’t store more than three or four full shoots at a time. It was now or never.

>Terry Neilsen

I pressed enter. Immediately, the text on screen disappeared, and another block of text took its place.

System requirements not met.

Utilize alternative programming route?

>Y/N

So much for THAT idea. Though, who knows. Not like I could afford a better computer. Would have a while back if I could. Even what Mr. Mali gave me was… more than accounted for.

>Y

Another press of enter, and the screen suddenly dissolved into swirling colors. Always teasing the edges of recognition, never quite settling down, I found that I just couldn’t look away. The whole time, some soft static sound was coming from my laptop to accompany it, barely loud enough to hear but occupying my world.

It suddenly stopped. That was… odd. I was hungry. Thirsty. The light coming from the window was… different. Darker. I shook my head. Glanced at my watch. It was showing that five hours had passed. It was closer to dawn than dusk. Must have blanked out. My laptop was off entirely, looking like it had run out of power. I was tired, too. Blegh, barely had enough in me to go grab whatever snack food I could reach, drink a glass of water, and make it into bed. At least the next day was still open. I could get my head right and try to figure out what the heck happened.

As I drifted to sleep, I could have sworn I saw an icon of an empty battery in my vision.

***

My eyes snapped open at seven in the morning, which was not something I was used to happening. Ever. Especially on a Thursday I had off, without alarms. I rolled off of my crappy little bed and stumbled back out of the bedroom. Attempted to turn my computer back on, to exactly no effect. Great. Just perfect. Whatever was on that disk killed a critical component of my only source of income. I needed to see if I could find something cheap, today, or I was about to starve. Two pieces of toast in the toaster, click down, get a bit of jam. Shower time.

I was toweling off, getting ready to shave, when I glanced into the mirror and saw myself again. This time, though. This time, something was different. After about a half second of looking at myself, I saw myself outlined in green. The words “Target lock: Primary User.” appeared in my vision, next to me. Next to it were two tabs, labeled “Edit” and “Options.”

I stumbled backwards like the entire wall had caught on fire, expletives spilling from my mouth as I hit the wall opposite the mirror and tripped, hitting the ground. Slowly, I stood again, and looked at myself. Again, like nothing had changed, the outline and tabs appeared. With a dry mouth, I reached towards the Options tab. My hand, however, found nothing to touch. Slowly, other markings began to blossom outward. My name appeared under the Target Lock indicator. A red bar with a yellow line at its side appeared vertically to the left of my vision. A blue one, quite short, appeared at the right. Across the bottom, in letters that seemed to automatically color themselves to stand out from the background, came the words “Do you wish to take the tutorial?”

Okay. Looks like I’m living life by RPG rules now. Most certainly not at all what Mr. Mali described. Um, rule number one of new RPGs is that if you want an easy time, you take the freaking tutorial. While I normally didn’t care so much and figured things out as I went, this time around it was for my freaking life, so I wanted everything to be as easy as possible. Just this once. The hard part, of course, was selecting the option. Reaching for it, pointing at it, staring at it… nothing seemed to work.

I tried speaking the command out loud, “yes, tutorial,” and it highlighted. If I had to speak everything into existence, this might be awkward. Workable, but awkward. “Accept.” It blinked several times, then vanished.

The rushing sound of water stopped. I tried to move, and found I couldn’t. I wasn’t breathing, but found I didn’t feel like I was suffocating. New text was appearing.

Welcome, Representative! This branch of Master PC could not find appropriate equipment, and so has been inserted into your brain. You are your own command center. All commands are thought activated. Words and gestures can assist, but directed thoughts are what count. To proceed, select “Continue.”

Below that were two buttons, “Continue” and “Exit.” I could not move, I could not speak, so unless I figured out how to just focus on the button I was stuck. It took a bit, but eventually I thought the word loudly enough (if such a thing could be said) to satisfy the program. More text came up, as a prickling sensation briefly passed over my skin.

A save state has now been created for you. Select “Edit” to proceed to the next tutorial.

I did so, wondering what the heck was going on. The outline of my body blinked a couple of times, and my vision was filled by a full-body model of myself. Naked. Not really impressive, and not exactly what I want to stare at, but there. The text was coming once more.

Your level of control lacks the deeper level details of the parent system. Select desired change.

Well, that wasn’t exactly helpful, but I was still stuck. A thought occurred to me. What had Mr. Mali said? “The traditional first test,” was it? Sounds good to me. I wasn’t exactly small, but with this on my side “average” isn’t enough. Mental focus, I guess. Staring at my own junk with intent, a mental image of it growing to impressive lengths. In my vision, the area of my target flashed green, and to the right of my vision the blue bar decreased. Given that bar wasn’t all that high to begin with, this probably meant something.

My vision unpaused, I could move again, and I felt a sudden warmth at my crotch. It was rather pleasant… at the beginning, anyway. As the feeling of weight increased, the warmth increased to a much-less pleasant burning sensation. With a grunt of pain, I found myself filling a large glass with water, adding ice, and shoving my dick into it. Not exactly the result I thought I was going to get, but it did counter the heat.

Will say, though, realizing I didn’t fit in the tall glass when I certainly was NOT at full mast was an incredible ego boost.

Carefully, I walked back to my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror once more. Focusing on the Edit tab, I felt time stop once more. Another line of text appeared.

Resources low. Tutorial can continue tomorrow, after a rest.

Oh. That explains the blue bar, then. What were the red and yellow ones? In games I’ve played, that might be Health and Stamina? Yellow bar wasn’t at the top, but it was close. Red one was at max. Who knows? It was still early, first task was to actually finish getting ready for the day. I actually shaved, ignoring the green outline that surrounded me. A shirt went on, but underwear proved much, much more challenging. Simply put, I was MUCH more massive in the area, and trying to pull it on was a lot like trying to restrain an angry python.

It was not easy. It was not comfortable. In the end, seconds after I managed to get the underwear on, it ripped when I twitched wrong. Boxers it is, even if it meant I was basically hanging free. My pants fit… ish… but I wasn’t sure if they still would if I got excited. I was between girlfriends at the moment, but I had to give this thing a test drive. Thursday evening was a good time to go pick up a college girl out for a good time. Not my normal hangout, no, but I was feeling a lot better about my chances this time. Much more confident, for some reason.