“Can we skip this one?” I muttered. My mouth was presently unwrapped but the rest of me was bound and tied up in who knows what.

Webbed!

Movement restricted by 95%

“Not yet, Grant Legate.”

“But we can chat.” I gave it my best dry sarcastic tone. If only James could see my rolling eyes. Maybe he could with all his computer program powers.

“Of course, if you’re not too tied up right now.”

“I am, a little.” The voice could deliver a deadpan line and seemed indifferent to my attempts to return the favor.

“So try to get out of the web instead.” His advice wasn’t even remotely useful. I hadn’t actually asked him a question though. I wiggled halfheartedly.

“Not happening.”

“Maybe some encouragement would motivate you.” James said.

“Spiders?” I asked.

“Spiders.”

“Can’t feel them under this webbing.” I tried to deny that the idea of anything crawling over me was unwelcome and disturbing.

“How about very, big, spiders?” He sounded amused. His face probably had that sly grin on it again.

“That’s gross.” Me and my stupid mouth had resulted in badness. Now there was a clear sound in the distance. Something very, very, big was scuttling around nearby. I started to really struggle.

“No James. This is not nice.”

“How am I to accurately measure your skills if you don’t try even try?” James turned sour. He had expressed disappointment during a few of our trial events.

“Ask nicely!” I shouted the answer to his ill-timed question while trying to roll away. My back jabbed into something sharp. Free fingertips felt around for the edges. A clicking noise grew closer. Images of giant mandibles and long legs went through my mind. I frantically rubbed my arms against the sharp outcropping nearby.

Desire to hurt yourself noted

Total health loss: 15% Update: Still webbed!

Fingers Freed: Movement restricted by 85%

“I hate you right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because small spiders are one thing, large ones are just bullshit.” This was just a game. This was just a game. This was just a game.

“Spiders are very common in our world. There a breed located in the Dessert of Tali that can fly.”

Location Update! Knowledge received Dessert of Tali Details: The Dessert of Tali contains spiders that can fly. Further details will be added as information is learned

“No there aren’t.” My immediate denial just blocked the whole concept out.

“There are indeed.” James calmly refuted.

"I don't believe in flying spiders." Maybe if I said those words enough all of them would die. It worked for faeries according to my childhood television watching.

Skill Demonstrated: [Denial] Type: Basic Rank: Unranked Specialties: Unknown Details: Denial is a powerful and dangerous ability. Further information will be provided upon finalization of the mentioned skill.

“I’m never going to go there.” The noise drew closer. I could have tried to be quiet but there was no chance of me being a stealthy person. I would sweat when nervous, stutter occasionally. Emotional speeches were the worst.

System Help:

Demonstrated skills are not learned skills. They provide no bonuses and are used by the world of Continue Online to assist in the discovery of skills. Most learned skills require a demonstration of the basic concept prior to being granted.

“Why?”

“Later!” Something was close by. I could feel the air shift across the exposed portions of my face and arms. The tone of chattered changed. It, they maybe, had found me. I sawed enough to get my arm loose and started tearing away at the bindings around my face to clear my vision.

“Oh God.” That was a giant spider. That was a really giant spider. Oh God, there were two of them. I think I wet myself. Only a little bit. No, I had, there was a popup that even told me of the condition of my pants.

What happened from there on was pure chaos in my mind. I twisted out of the way of jabbing legs trying to spear me. My foot kicked at the ground trying to get an inch away. Another giant ugly spider attacked. It missed my midsection and tore into an arm. I wiggled free a bit more and was wiggling like a fish, no a dolphin, in a net.

Failure to dodge noted.

Total health loss: 20%

“Oh God.” Prayer wasn’t enough, this was a test. I don’t know of what. My eyes were all half bound but there was a red bar that flashed with green as it dripped down.

Poisoned!

Health will lower over time unless treated.

Total health loss: 25%

“Poison? Are you kidding me?!” I kicked off again and made it another few feet. These things were big, strong, scary, but somewhat slower than one would expect a spider to be.

“No, I’m not, Grant Legate.”

“Stop calling me that!” Panic was rapidly removing my happy place.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Grant, Legate.” James was definitely entertained. I growled and got a mouthful of webbing which nearly caused me to choke.

“Come on!” I failed to escape the latest one. Pain shot through my leg causing me to bunch up. This was just a game.

“This is your last test Grant Legate. Do try to excel. You’re woefully behind your peers who do our trails.”

“Of course I am.” Mouthful of web in my face made the declaration muffled. I managed to get a foot under me and was now hopping away from spiders that were taller than I was. Watching myself during a highlight reel might be extremely funny. Everything was painful. My chest hurt and wheezed. My limited eyesight was getting fuzzy. Fingernails were bloody and arms torn.

Everything hurt.

Everything.

This was worse than the weapons practice James had made me do. A burly man had demanded I strike a wooden dummy for an hour before switching to the next weapon. Every time I failed or hesitated the burly man would hit me. James was smiling the whole time. I logged out twice during that and huffed around my house in anger.

This was worse than the trial two episodes ago where a frighteningly realistic people from my life berated and tried to tear me down. I had spent two days offline during that ruthless situation, but still came back. That army of people hadn’t said anything that was new to me. Plus, as I spent time outside the ARC, it became clear that those people had been missing a lot of details. My mother hated my father half the time but never told anyone in public. The game version of her acted completely lovey when talking about dad, but my real mother would have badmouthed him at least once.

The petting zoo had been nice. Odd, but nice. They even let me ride something that looked like a stocky llama. This, this weird dim cave with spiders was hell. I kept hopping while the arachnids lumbered behind me. An exit. There had to be an exit.

“Where do I go from here?”

“Out!” James voice sounded further away, but still fairly close.

“Which way is that?!”

“Why don’t you just die? It’s much easier to just give up.” And that hurt. James managed to sound like every personal demon that had haunted me over the years.

“No! Besides, it’s not like I’d die for real!” I managed to duck around a rock and pulled at more webbing. My legs were mostly free now, the rest of me wasn’t.

“Right, it’s much easier to give up.” James had this tone that was starting to irk me. I had selected him and it felt like he was trying to drive me away. “Just, let yourself be killed.” He offered.

“No!”

I got most of my arms free and found some more objects to throw at the approaching giant spiders. Their faces dripped with something unwholesome and off color. Was that meat around the edges of their jaws? [Identification] revealed they were the leftover bits of a former victim.

“Why are you trying just now? Was it the spiders?”

“I hate giant spiders!” One of them was too close. The little flashing bar to the side was under a third. Green still flooded the inside and would pulse every so often. Fire. I needed the biggest ball of flame possible to burn them to a shrieking pile of goo. Bugs did not cope well with being lit on fire. But, but I had no matches, I had no fire.

“This isn’t a phobia. If it were, you would be a drooling mess.”

“I hate them.” Words drifted off as I stood up. Finally now I was seeing one completely unobstructed. Its face was messed up and fractured. Hair and bulging eyes made up the key features. Each of the eight legs arched higher than my shoulder.

The digital representation of food chose that moment of terror to finish passing through my system. Part of me regretted eating so much at the King’s Feast. The rest of me just hoped that it would all be over soon.

Soiled!

You have defiled your trousers. Relations with other people will suffer a penalty until you’ve cleansed your clothes.

I ran, trying to find a path that angled upward. Hopefully outward towards freedom. Rocks were thrown behind me in a huff. Each vague connection would buy me another few precious seconds to escape. From the my peripheral of my eye a limb could be seen reaching out and barely missing.

“I need fire. Need fire.” I was running my mouth in complete rambles.

Wait.

“I’ll give you cupcakes if you set these guys on fire!” I shouted in desperation, hoping the little dragon guy was floating around in the cyberspace nearby. “Lots of cupcakes! Cookies! More creamer!”

I plead and kept running. Behind me I heard a click and a huff. The spiders’ chattering tone changed. Heat flashed lighting up the entire dim passageway with warmth. Shrill sounds filled the air like a baby screaming one high and constant note. I covered my ears then risked looking backwards.

The little dragon stood, huffing out a stream of flame that had caught two of the spiders. He coughed another few little blasts and hopped around happily. Two bundles of former terror were curling into twitchy balls while the high pitched whine slowly died. Another spider was clearly fleeing in the distance.

“Cupcakes. I owe you so many cupcakes.” My words slurred and drool dribbled out my mouth. Poison caught up. The health bar reached zero while Continue Online went dark to the boasting tune of a tiny dragon.

You have Died!

With that awesome message I logged out of the ARC and stomped around my house. Death had struck a second time. A penalty of eight hours was applied and logging back in would be blocked. It was pretty minor overall, but eight hours in reality was twenty four in game. Additionally I would lose skills and character points. My niece had explained that sometimes other punishments happened depending on what was going on.

I confirmed with Beth that my prize was a copy of Continue Online. She spent an hour babbling about different bits of information and repeatedly asking for my log in information. My refusal was taken in stride since I wanted to surprise everyone. That and I hadn’t actually created a character name. I was torn between getting a name and punching James in the face for those giant spiders.

After my disturbing experience a walk outside was needed. I flashed a hand over the external ARC display to put it into sleep mode. My Atrium was a giant mess and that little dragon was once again tearing into cabinets. I sighed and opened up the shopping interface from outside. Moments later there was a fully stocked counter with fruits and other goods. I even spent the three dollars on a virtual cake. The small terror sent wrapping paper flying all over my digital house. Programming should auto clean up all that trash if left alone long enough. Or maybe not. Glass shards still lined one side of the room.

“How the heck did you alter the program that much?” I poked a finger through the holographic display. “You better clean up after yourself this time.”

The [Messenger's Pet] had two spiders chasing me aflame. Even though I died it was worth the price of virtual food. Assuming he hadn’t broken the program enough to require restocking. I better disable remote access to my Atrium from family and friends. Last thing I wanted to explain was my new pet. A part time miniature dragon was miles better than cats. Odd that no one had thought of putting one into the ARC online store. Maybe they couldn’t program something that complicated or it hadn’t been approved by the company. Cats went anywhere from fifty dollars on up, all for something that wasn’t real.

My first week off from work was nearly over. Time dilatation wasn’t set that high yet according to James. Accordingly the game minutes were the same as real time. Henry Uldum had extended my one week vacation to two. That was useful I guess. My coworkers had sent me nasty messages about how I was cutting into their lazy time. None showed any signs of being aware that I picked up the Ultimate Edition.

Progress inside the program hadn’t exactly been stellar. All the events combined to put me on par with an entry level character. Only the event results seemed different. And one tiny dragon that was now wallowing in wrapping remains like it was catnip.

I sighed and walked outside for fresh air.

Each movement hurt. These feedback bands were effective. Articles online explained the science away by reciting nerve ending activation signals. Comparing them to a real workout showed an almost ninety percent gap. Playing the game and exercising, however minor, was worthwhile.

An hour later, after I made it down to the store for supplies, I was ready to log in again. I spent a few minutes in the Atrium and straightened out the mess left behind. Post cleanup allowed me to see glass refreshing inside the cabinet and food repopulating on the shelves. My little dragon buddy hadn’t completely broken the Atrium’s programming. There were still two doors open, one to the dance program, and one to Continue. I hadn’t been able to touch the dance one since the strange possession of my fiancee's image.

Continuing through Continue was the only real option. I stepped inside. The room was dark once again. Dim light brought attention to the middle where a familiar pillar and book sat open waiting. James stood there, arms crossed, looking pleased.

“You made it!” James sounded surprised.

I glared.

“Were you upset?”

“I wasn’t happy.” I looked at the dragon that was pacing around on top of the book. “Thanks little guy.” My small dragon pal hummed and did a few circles trying to chase its lengthy tail.

“That’s not a very good answer.”

“Yes.” I had been upset. The walk helped. Humming the a song from my dance program and imaging the motions put me back into a happier frame of mind.

“Very well. Your turn Grant Legate.”

“Let’s fix that next.” I tried not to grind my teeth.

“You have the power to change things Grant Legate, as I’ve told you before.”

“I just need to pick a character name.”

“And write it down here.” James seemed to have everything already prepared. Part of me should be disturbed that my next goal was so easily read by a computer.

The thought of a character name had crossed my mind over the last few days. Specifically when James, or one of the other Voices, persisted on using my first and last name. The problem was that most of my game names from years ago were a few flavors of stupid. My past names include; television show characters, cartoon characters, comic heroes, and more. None of them seemed appropriate for a game like this.

“Second thoughts Grant Legate?”

“Trouble deciding.”

“I’ve always found it interesting, the names your kind use. We had a girl who went by Sword Princess, but she prefers a staff. One man who called himself Shadow, among another fifty with the same name.”

“That sounds about right.” I bet Shadow liked to stealth around in game and stab people in the back. Very mysterious I’m sure. Forty of the fifty were probably utter jokes and half a poser each. “I don’t know.”

“Other players name themselves after fantasy lives they’ve built. Some chose heroes or people they aspire to be. Great names in your world, founding fathers, names that mean powerful things.”

“None of that sounds like me.”

“What kind of experience do you want to have within our world?” James asked.

“I just want a dis…”

“A distraction. Yes. Is life in your world so terrible?”

I stood over the book, quill in hand, small dragon rolling around in boredom, and decided how to answer. James often asked inane little questions but sometimes he poked the tender spots too.

“No. Not really James. Just, too familiar sometimes.”

“Familiarity is bad?”

“Reliving the past is painful.”

“Yet you dance with a false image of your deceased fiancée, and indeed have danced with her for over a year now.” I hadn’t actually told James that she had passed. I rarely let myself admit it. Hearing it out loud was like a punch in the gut. Part of me would welcome the giant spiders right about now.

“You crave a distraction. You focus on work with an almost zealous fever, so much so that your manager forced you to take a vacation.” He had clearly done his homework when accessing my ARC.

“James.” I clenched my eyes. Finally the man had found something truly painful to ask about. Yet it wasn’t even the asking, it was laying it all bare. When I did it the situation was under my control. My terms. When someone else did it everything felt so much more real and painful.

“Here you are, on the verge of a new world. You can choose to reinvent yourself, to throw caution to the wind, yet you can’t even decide a new name.”

“It’s not that easy.” I protested.

“Really? Tell that to a father who walks away from his family. Tell that to a person who quits their job without a moment’s hesitation. To a drugged up woman who chooses another high over their child.”

“I haven’t done any of those things."

“So? Those are just examples, Grant Legate.” James almost spat the words. I wanted to be mad but the only thing in my vision was that stupid quill and a blank space. “Your world and ours both allow people these chances, however right or wrong. Anyone can walk away and reinvent themselves."

"It's not that easy just to be someone different."

"Bah. People are who they chose to be, every moment of everyday defines them. You’ve defined yourself as a workaholic who can’t let go of the past. Why?”

“Because…”

“Why, not, just, let, go?” Each word sounded like a drum.

“Because I don’t want to let go!”

“Then be distracted. Pick a name. Visit another world. Be someone else and maybe you’ll find something else to hold onto.”

“I don’t want to let go of her.”

“She’s already gone from your world.” James' words hurt.

I was beyond painfully aware that she was gone. Identifying her body was a pretty clear indicator. Her parting hadn't been slow or peaceful, no, our separation had been swift and sudden. Even now it felt like an open wound that only stayed together with duct tape and prayer. And what did James mean by gone from my world? Dead is dead. I spun on the other man.

“What are you saying? Is that some clever hint? Is this some messed up trick relating to how she came to life over there?” Just three words had sent me into momentary rage. That frightening moment of realism that wasn’t caused by a sudden patch. “Is she in your world somehow? You owe me answers.”

“Not exactly Grant Legate.”

The bottom of my sanity dropped even further.

“Not exactly what?” I spat the words back at the large black man. He seemed indifferent to the anger.

“She’s not exactly in our world.”

“Explain that James. Explain what the hell that means or I’ll shove this quill up your ass!” I took a step towards the computer program and he didn’t even flinch. His face didn’t change from the stern button lipped expression.

“We can’t explain it Mister Grant Legate.” There was a little girl behind me. She was the same youngster who took Maud’s charge before. “We have rules.”

“This isn’t some fucked up ploy is it, to, to, to.” To what? What might possess a computer to try and mess with any human to this extent? Happy place, I had to get back to my happy place. I tried to remember the opening chords to a waltz.

“We do not rely on smoke and mirrors to entice people to visit our world. You either choose to, or don’t.” James said, still standing in the same spot, but slightly turned towards the other Voices.

“Is this some fucked up Ultimate Edition thing?”

“Yes and no. We might never have noticed you without your proof of ownership. However these types of things are common for anyone who attracts our attention.” James answered a question with some actual detail, finally. It also explained why I had a trait for [Divine Attention].

“Then what is going on?” Alien plot? Crazy theory on the afterlife? Alternate reality? No, that wasn’t fair, the name ARC stood for Alternate Reality Capsule. My job with Trillium had been going on for over a year now. No way did these things combine into a portal or anything that strange.

“Give me something James, or I’ll just walk away and delete this stupid thing. Ultimate Edition, whims of the universe, and my boss, be damned.”

“I cannot do that, Grant Legate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am not allowed.”

“Are you saying my fiancee is in this stupid game?”

“No.” He sounded firm and absolute. “Your fiancee is dead.”

“Then what’s going on?” I waved around my arm in anger.

“Tut. Something of her is still here.” Another voice came out of the darkness. I turned and saw a small light over Maud’s tired body. She gave an empty smile.

“You do not have permission to interfere.” James said.

“We make the rules James, you know that. Tut. You owe Mister Grant Legate an answer, by your own deal you’ve fallen behind a ways.”

“Ah.” There was a pause while James ordered himself and did a mental count. “I suppose I have fallen a bit behind.”

I wanted to rip all the pages out of this stupid book and pull the tiny dragon’s tail to start a fire. I would bend the creature over like a flamethrower and torch every last piece of material.

“I can perhaps trade many little owed answers for a chance at a bigger one. None of us are allowed to fully explain, but I can show you, if you wish to detour.” The room suddenly got a lot more crammed and things spun. It felt like time compression had kicked in at a high degree. This was more than four to one. My perception of the digital world about me slowed to a snails pace.

Voices, all the Voices, were talking about this situation.

“That would be good.” Maud affirmed. “You've my approval.”

“Sounds amusing. I always did have a soft spot for the old goat.” The Temptress was nearby. All I noticed besides her voice was a brush of fingertips. They slid across my cheek from behind and a bout of desire surged.

“He can’t handle filling that man’s shoes. He can’t even hold in his own piss!” Drill Sergeant yelled across the room, reminding me of the lack of self-control giant spiders had induced upon me. Spittle still cleared the distance.

“I’m against it.” The Drill Sergeant said prior to fading out.

“Let Mister Grant Legate do it.” The young girl’s voice was next. Her face almost hidden behind a book she raised like a shield towards the Drill Sergeant’s former presence.

Silent and angry faded in. She still wore the same white flowing dress and little sign of anything else. Her eyes looked off into the distance and her head shook back and forth slowly. What were they voting on? Could computers vote on something to do with me?

“Do it. Everyone deserves a chance.” The man in the Duster faded in. He rattled something around in his hands. A woman hung over his shoulder and seemed to be looking down her nose at me with an indifferent expression. Her dress hugged the curves all too tightly.

“What…” I tried to ask.

“I don’t know.” The Jester clacked. It appeared behind the two Voices of chance, they frowned and faded away. The mask seemed darkly teasing as always. “These visitors are such fickle creatures. You want him to play a part, but is his heart able to be someone else?”

"...is...” My next word was stuttered and slow compared to the Voices speech. Even the Jester's clacking voice made more sense than I did.

“I think Grant Legate desperately wants to be someone else. We give him a stage, a face, and hold onto the role a little bit longer.” James said with a serious expression. He seemed so frumpy next to the Jester mask.

“And we cover it up?" The Jester said.

"...going on..." I ground out the words.

“Yes. Provided he does well enough. A fitting end, another moment more would be enough to send him forth with something greater than a whisper in the night.” James answered.

“And would he approve?” For a moment if felt like the Jester was glaring straight at me while he spoke. Maybe he was. His eyes held only darkness and that smile never left. The Voices kept on talking while I tried to move forward.

“Based on my observations, yes.”

“And Mother?” The Jester asked.

“Has she ever disapproved of our actions?”

“We only function as we were created. Isn’t that right, James.” Jester’s tone always seemed mocking. Though an exact impression was impossible. Its words were very similar to Hal Pal’s in that way. Robotic, passive, this Jester was clearly not human.

”You’ll explain it?” Maud was still nearby and sounded apprehensive. Distant cries of children leaping around her filled the empty air before fading off.

“In a way that makes sense.” James responded.

“Good. I have my role, but even I would not tarnish his ending.” The Jester said.

“So you approve?”

“Yes.” A smiling mask haunted my slowed vision as it faded away.

“Then we have a majority.”

"...here?" I finally got the last word out when light flashed and time abruptly sped back up. They had done all that taking while my mind crawled through mire. I fell forward while trying to reach out for James.

All the other Voices had left the room. The pillar and book were still present. Even the little dragon seemed undisturbed. James was looking off into the distance and seemed uncaring as I pulled myself up. Everything felt uncomfortable and my head spun.

“I’ll explain a moment Grant Legate.”

“I need a better name.” That was the first thing out of my mouth. Not demanding answers, just being annoyed. James played me like a fiddle.

“Eventually, yes. For now, I have another offer.” James turned and crossed both his hands over his belly.

“Yeah. I guessed something was up.” Not that I was clear on the finer details. There were a lot of questions floating around my brain but James had basically stated he was using them all up for this proposal.

"Would you like to know more?"

"Sure." I said dryly. Clearly the demands uttered forth from my mouth weren’t blunt enough. My patience was nearly saintly to suffer through this without trying to strangle the man. Or AI, or Voice, whatever.

"One of our long time denizens has ceased to function properly." James said.

"Someone from your world." I tried to focus on my calming techniques. Step one, respond to the question at hand, don’t stress about what’s gone before. Step two, look forward. Step three, think of something that made me happy, such as music and dance.

"A very well-known figure. Mostly retired, he was quiet famous decades ago."

"And he's dead." I said.

"Effectively. Death in our world holds many meanings." That made sense. A computer probably had a much different concept than humans.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"We've decided to offer you a unique chance to view our land. Would you like to see something no one else from your world has?"

"If it gets me answers, sure. But I'm still not clear on what you actually want." I wasn't focusing right anyway. Part of my mind was trying to recall the feet placement for a brisk beat. The pop and lock movements of high tempo music were still a bit awkward for me.

"We are willing to let you choose to take up his mantle for a limited time. To be precise, four weeks of our time. One week in your world." James said.

"You want me to be someone from your world, who died?" My head drew back and one eye squinted slightly with confusion.

"In essence, yes."

"That's strange." Beyond odd actually. The Voices wanted me to pretend to be someone else? How on earth would this lead to an answer about my fiancee? I had nothing else to go on. James wasn't going to answer my question. Once the man said no, he stuck with it. Only harassment from the other Voices had even gotten us this far.

"Will you?" James, ever the questioning man, asked. I had a hard time seeing any downside. Pretending to be someone else would be a very interesting distraction.

"I'll get help, right? I can't just act as someone else without information."

"Yes. You'll receive information about his life as you interact with the world, much the same as any others who travel to our world will."

"I guess." A chance to understand this world more? To understand exactly what this mystery was surrounding my fiancée? Sure. "Yeah. I'll do it."

A door slid out of the ground complete with a bright light and everything. It was so cheesy I laughed.

“A question before I go James.”

“I’ll indulge you Grant Legate.” I closed my eyes and counted to three. Hopefully a good name would occur to me within these four weeks.

“What sort of game is this exactly?” Strange tests and altered programming was just the tip of our insanity iceberg. Trillium and ARC had really done an amazing job with this setting. Continue really did deserve all the praise it received in reviews for throwing me off enough to make me doubt myself.

“It’s no game. To us it’s very real, and very serious.” James said.

“Yeah that’s not ominous or anything.” I scratched at my head. A gentle tempo floated through the recesses of my mind almost setting me to dance. Keeping in motion, drowning my thoughts in the music, both helped me cope with the darker thoughts.

“Do not be mistaken. There is no intent to do you harm in here. What you do in the world is entirely up to you.”

“Aside from this.” I gestured to the doorway of white.

“This too is your choice. Be one of ours, a man named William Carver, and if you do well enough, you’ll get answers.” He responded with that almost sly smile.

Again I idly scratched at my head and tried not to mutter an angry reply. All the details would have to be figured out later. My next step was simple, step through the door and get an lay of the land. Afterwards I would log out and cool down. Maybe that hot tub program should be put to more use.

My amazing restraint, built over two years of therapy and meetings, succeeded. Instead of having to deal with more of James’ half answers and annoying responses there was this other option. I could step through a door into non-player character land. If nothing else, it was a distraction. I walked through the cheap doorway effect while wiping at my eyes.