The Wild West in Cyberspace. 5,000 A computer nerd goes adventuring. (standard:adventure, 4969 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 25 2020	Views/Reads: 1396/1007	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Typing in a final string of data from the last form in his “in” basket, Olaf Smith leaned back in his chair – finished. He was at a workstation on MacMS69, a large computer serving the Western Hemisphere of Earth.

Typing in a final string of data from the last form in his “in” basket,
Olaf Smith leaned back in his chair – finished. He was at a workstation 
on MacMS69, a large computer serving the Western Hemisphere of Earth. 

"Well, Mac, old boy, that's all for me," he spoke to the walls. "Have a
nice life, old buddy. I'm leaving in the morning." He sighed loudly 
while stretching both arms out, feeling relief from tired muscles. 

"That's too bad, Olaf," the walls answered. "You've been a good friend
these ... forty-five years and ... seventeen days and ... twelve hours 
and ... thirty-four minutes and ... thirty-three seconds." 

"I'll miss you too, Mac. But there's nothing you, or humans, can do to
cure me. The doctor says I'll die in a few more years." 

"I wish I could help, Olaf, but even I can't do some things, like cure
Alberdarian Cancerous growths. The disease was brought back here from 
space long before my time." 

"I don't blame you, Mac. But, if I have to die, I'd rather it be as a
young adventurer and with my boots on, as the saying goes, than as an 
old man in both pain and a wheelchair. I'm going inside, to cyberspace, 
to die there." 

"I can't really understand 'dying,' Olaf, my friend. It's hard for me to
imagine what it would be like to cease intelligent activities. However, 
I have to honor your choice." 

"Well, time to go, I guess," Olaf bent over to hug the monitor, tears in
his eyes. He had sat at that workstation through a dozen monitors and 
four chairs, his last being the current wheelchair. 

"Goodbye. And I hope you don't mind if I keep an eye on you?" the
computer replied. "If you need help, I'll keep a Search Bot nearby." 

"That would be kind of you, but don't worry. I'd rather die in action
than as an invalid." 

Olaf switched his voice to a lower key. 

"Let's go, Jerry." Jerry was the name he gave to his other constant
companion, the wheelchair. Jerry wheeled around, beeped goodbye to 
their metallic friend and wheeled Olaf to the door, which opened 
automatically for them. 

Olaf, like most of the MacMS69 staff, lived in the building. Jerry
wheeled Olaf to his apartment and helped the man to bed. In his 
illness, Olaf could barely stand by himself and settled gratefully into 
a soft mattress. 

Another robot brought him a squeezebowl of thin noodle soup, the only
thing his tender stomach could retain, and glass of watered-down milk. 
After dining on the bland soup, Olaf dropped off to sleep. 

It was a restless night, due to worry about his coming fate. Old Olaf
had seen hundreds of his friends leave for the Stasis Center but had 
developed an unreasoning fear of it himself. When he was younger, 
others had tried to talk him into taking the plunge but he'd always 
refused. He'd heard horror stories, unverified, about life on the 
Internet. 

Part of his job had, at one time, been to handle criminals from
Cyberworld and some of them were mean individuals. Not only mean but 
used to having their own way. When working in his first job as a prison 
guard, he'd used a program that allowed him to see and communicate with 
them in their floppy-drive prisons and, frankly, they scared the crap 
out of him. The thought of actually being on the "other side" with 
others like them was alarming for the kind and soft-spoken Olaf. And 
now he would soon be there ... on that other side. 

*** 

Eyes bleary and hardly rested, Olaf woke in the morning. He only had an
hour before his appointment at the Stasis Center in the same large 
building. He could still change his mind -- and he certainly considered 


Click here to read the rest of this story (566 more lines)