(a short story, inspired by Operation Anchorage)


I didn't think it would be this cold.

That is, I knew Alaska was cold, from maps and history tapes - it's so far north that it's like winter there all the time - but I didn't expect the simulation would be too. Maybe the inside of the pod is refrigerated, or maybe the sim is programmed to tell my body it's cold (the same way it tells me I'm getting shot). I worry about how my body might be reacting to that, back in the real world - fever, or hypothermia?

There's no way to tell from in here. I just have to get through this and hope that the Brotherhood of Steel and the long-dead programmers of this simulation knew what they were doing.

That's another weird thing, even weirder than finding myself in a place I've never been or seeing all this Army gear in practically brand-new condition. I can tell that most of the soldiers in this scenario (on both sides) are just anonymous puppets, but I think I read about General Chase somewhere, so he was probably real. But what about Sergeant Montgomery, or that lieutenant who reminds me so much of Jonas? Are they based on real people too, soldiers who lived and died two hundred years ago? And if so, did they ever imagine that their echoes would linger so long after them?

I've listened to old tapes and read journal entries on terminals, but this is different. They talk to me. I know I'm really just talking to a computer program, but in here, it's hard to tell the difference.

Now there's a wild thought... what if I'm just another computer-generated character, part of some simulation? But that's ridiculous. I remember growing up in the Vault, with Dad and Jonas and Amata and everyone else. I think, therefore I am. If you cut me, do I not bleed? I'm definitely real.

... right?

youre screwin with my head man!