On the seventh night, he dreamed he was on the bridge of the Victory . The Yamato loomed on the horizon, its 18-inch guns turning toward him. He screamed at his crew to fire. The gunnery officer turned around. He had no face. Where his mouth should have been was a single line of white text:
But sometimes, late at night, when the house is quiet and his current game—something modern, something that works—crashes for no reason, he swears he can still hear it. A faint, ghostly signal from Task Force 47. The Victory , still drifting on a phantom sea. battlestations pacific xlive.dll
“All stations, this is Phoenix Actual,” Vance said into his throat mic. “Enemy fleet spotted. Vector zero-niner-zero. Battleship Yamato and escorts. Let’s send them to the bottom.” On the seventh night, he dreamed he was
And the Yamato , forever undefeated.
He right-clicked the shortcut. He deleted it. The gunnery officer turned around
He slammed the keyboard. The window remained. He rebooted. The window remained. He spent the next four hours downloading “xlive.dll fixers” from websites that looked like they were designed by the Soviet Navy in 1987. Each one installed a new toolbar, changed his homepage to a search engine called “CrystalSearcher,” and did absolutely nothing to restore the missing file.
Days passed. He tried compatibility mode. He tried running it as administrator. He tried the “Games for Windows Live” offline installer that Microsoft had abandoned like a sunken destroyer. Nothing worked.