Collision Course [+ Additional Levels]

Level Seventeen - Only Human

Even at this time of night, the arcade was pretty lively. The type of crowd had shifted from family to friends. A rowdier crowd. Jumpman walked on slowly through the main walkway, pulling his shoulder back out of the way of someone passing by. As a general rule, he strayed away from any physical contact with others. Literally being composed of code, he tended to generate static. Drew attention. Unwanted attention, in particular. And he wanted to avoid that. So, he avoided people.

He rubbed his face, a bit more than just a little nauseated and in no rush to get to the space aisle. Even after all of this time, he still didn't know what it was about playing that coin-op machine that made his stomach churn. He knew that it was rough to watch his goal get pulled away from him over and over. Well, he just hoped that he didn't feel this way when the game actually started for him in real life. That would be just awful. Pacman had been playing for thirty six years already, he couldn't imagine playing anywhere close to that long being sick all of the time. Perhaps he'd get used to it and would have learned how to push it down by then.

Or, maybe, this was just pre-game anxiety. Jumpman frowned, deep in thought. This wasn't the first time he'd considered the idea. He did have thirty five whole years for it to have built up, if that's what it was. He asked himself what part of the game it was that made him uncomfortable, but he didn't need to; he was already well aware of it.

Jumpman didn't even know how he'd be able to do it, how he'd bring himself to play when the game began. The concept of having a person―an actual person, that he may even love―be repeatedly swept away from him, never truly reuniting...

It scared him, in all honesty.

He understood that they were video game characters, and most of them were NPCs. And, yet, existing in the way they all currently do, they "played" themselves. Sure, they had rules and guidelines written into their code to dictate their ingame actions, what they were able to do. What they actually do though, that was completely up to them to decide. He couldn't really speak for himself or for his game or anyone in QBert's game (because their games hadn't begun yet), but he knew for sure that the Ghosts of the game Pac-Man had consciousnesses of their own, and their own personalities. Which, was a shared thing. And weird. Other than QBert, Pacman and himself, everyone he was aware of technically were some of the first AI. And even the AI today he was sure wasn't capable of emotion, especially to the extent that they all were. And, even for themselves―QBert, Pacman and himself―they were to be controlled by another. By a different mind, a different consciousness altogether. However, they had free reign over their own selves. Even the NPCs.

With all of this in mind, he knew that, even though they may all be computerized, designed code in physical form, they were also...

... human.

Inside, what actually made up who they were, as well as what they were, was what could only be described as "human." Nothing else. There was just a strong part of all of them that was truly human.

Which, also just, screwed up everything.

It forced Jumpman to come about the reasoning for their existence from an entirely different vantage point, one that isn't easily understood. Being part human was just weird. To him, anyways; he wasn't sure if it was different for other humans, or even for his friends, Pacman and QBert. Personally though, he just didn't get any of it. Humans reacted in certain ways. In ways that, as much the sci-fi geeks and dreamers would hope for, no computer could ever replicate. In ways that couldn't simply be explained by ones and zeroes. He guessed that being part human was the explanation for what they could do. But then, were they code first? Or humans first?