Collision Course [+ Additional Levels]

Level Nineteen - Tough Luck

QBert chewed on that for a minute, before tentatively asking a rather direct question. "Jay, do you think that in all this time that we've spent with our games not having begun yet, we've grown soft?" At the questioning look on Jumpman's face, he explained, "As in, I mean―eh, let me put it this way. Pac can't relate because his game began when, uh, when he did. You and I, though, haven't had to be QBert and Jumpman―"

Jumpman instinctively reacted by glancing around, to which QBert dismissively asked, "Who's watching?" clearly unworried. Jumpman shrugged in agreement.

"Anyway, because of that," he continued, "we've had to deal with being ourselves, or the other side of us that isn't a video game, and we've become accustomed to having our free will that's come with not being bound to any code. "Then at a thought, he glanced down and pinched his shirt. "Well, much, anyway."

Jumpman squinted up at him. "Is that my hat, by the way?"

QBert stared back, shoulders slumped. "Did you just hear what I asked?"

"Is it, though?"

"So what if it is, I―yeah, it's your hat," he admitted. "But what am I gonna do about it now, give it back to you? It'd be weird for you to wear two hats at once. You'd look ridiculous."

Jumpman frowned. "What were you doing in my room?"

"I wasn't in your room, I found it laying on the counter. But that's totally besides the point, quit stalling. Why aren't you answering my question?"

"Sounded like you already answered it."

"But I'm asking what you think," QBert told him pointedly. "Do you think that we've grown soft, not running on a game all the time?"

"I don't know what to tell you, dude." He shook his head, leaning his weight against one of the coin-op machines beside him, folding his own arms. "It's bizarre to me that we even think at all," he remarked quietly, though not so quiet that his friend couldn't hear.

"How come?" he asked. QBert shrugged as he thought aloud, "All components in a video game have some level―ha―of thinking that they have to do, processing code and such."

"Yeah, and we do that," Jumpman replied. "But we don't just process code. We have these other 'organic' thoughts. Thoughts that we weren't made for."

"That we weren't made for?"

Jumpman's eyes traveled to the other few gamers in the aisle captivated with gameplay. "We may look totally human... but we're not."

QBert turned to follow his gaze, arms still crossed. He watched them all as they gripped controls, slammed buttons, and inserted another quarter to do it all over again. "Still... there's a part of us that very much is inexplicably human."

"Our very flesh is made out of code."

"Perhaps, but our emotions aren't."

"Yeah? How can you tell for sure that your emotions aren't just simply ones and zeroes?"

"Because my emotions are human."

QBert looked back at his short friend as Jumpman pressed, "But how do you know that?"

"No sophisticated technology can replicate certain emotions with such accuracy."

"Um, QBert." Jumpman gestured at himself and him. "We're sophisticated technology."

"My emotions are not just code," QBert told him with such confidence that his friend almost believed him―but he wanted to know why. He needed to.