Interlude- Brandon (21 page)

Chapter 60

Thorn sat at a small table in a corner of the resort’s restaurant. It had been a long, stressful day making sure all the Elite leaders arrived in time and were present for the message he had to deliver. The last of them were boarding their planes to depart the island now. There were a few special guests still enjoying private meals around the dining room. It was the perfect time to relax with a glass of wine and a peaceful meal.

Thorn cut into his rare steak and raised it to his mouth. As he looked up, he saw Lohkam striding purposefully towards him, a frown on his face. That boy always has a frown on his face , Thorn thought to himself.

Lohkam stopped in front of Thorn, glaring at him
but saying nothing . Thorn looked him in the eye but continued to chew his food, taking the time to enjoy the first bite of steak he’d had in quite a while. He looked down to cut another bite. When he put the food into his mouth, his eyes conveyed boredom as they returned to rest on Lohkam’s. Could  be lucky enough to eat this whole steak before I have to listen to this?

Three bites later, Thorn groaned inwardly as Lohkam finally spoke up.

“I can’t do another thirty year session.”

Thorn finished chewing the food in his mouth. “What if I could have you complete it in three weeks instead of three months?” he asked.

Lohkam shook his head negatively without a hint of hesitation, which told Thorn all he needed to know about the situation. “It’s not the time that passes here, Mr. Thorn,” Lohkam explained. “It’s having to live another thirty years in there. I just can’t do it.”

Thorn looked Lohkam up and down with a critical eye. “You don’t plan to live thirty more years?” he asked.

“Of course I do. I don’t want to live more than one lifetime, though. One lifetime is enough; to live more than that just seems like… punishment.”

Thorn was surprised. He assumed everyone wanted to
get more life. He shook his head in wonder at the thought of someone not wanting to live as long as possible and experience all there was to experience. He looked at Lohkam for a moment, then nodded and waved his fork before he cut another bite.

“Okay, fine, Lohkam. If you don’t want more years of life, then so be it.”

Lohkam relaxed visibly, almost as if someone had just pardoned him from a prison sentence. “Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. If there’s anything else I can do for you, I’m happy to. Anything at all.”

Thorn nodded while he finished another mouthful of food. He wished the boy would leave him alone while he was eating, but he wasn’t going to let this prevent him from enjoying his meal. Lohkam could wait between bites, since this was the time he’d chosen to chat.

“I have something else for you to do while the other Elites are out for the next three months,” he said. “It seems that Tygon 3.0 is too… pleasant. It’s better and more enjoyable than most people’s real lives, which causes them to want to spend all their time in there. We are thinking of changing Tygon 3.0 to become less ‘fun’ to live in, in the hopes that people will decide to quit the game and get back to reality.”

“How will you do that?” Lohkam asked.

Thorn smiled, “We’re going to take Facility players into Tygon, one server at a time, and start killing every civilian player we see. Over and over until they get frustrated and quit the game.”

Lohkam
frowned. “Rather than live a boring life for thirty years inside VR, you want me to spend my days slaughtering unskilled avatars inside a game that doesn’t really promote violence?”

“Exactly,” Thorn nodded.

Lohkam’s frown spread into a wicked grin. “I’m ready to start immediately.”

Chapter 61

Carl was starting to wonder if the computer running the Sim was
glitching.

He opened the door of the house and examined the decorations. Well, he thought to himself, if it’s glitching, the furniture and appearance of the houses continue to be different.

Carl had questioned this particular game since the very first time he played it. He expected a challenge, but so far there’d been nothing. He was beginning to lose count of the number of times he’d played this scenario; He was sure it was at least thirty-three.

The house was silent. As he moved from the hallway and into the middle of the house he heard a sound coming from a room in the back. Carl approached the room, gently pushing the door open to reveal a small bedroom with walls decorated in pink.

There was a video player on the dresser and a small girl, perhaps five or six years of age, sitting on the bed with her back to the door watching a children’s program. Carl slowly closed the door, making certain that the girl didn’t notice him.

He checked the other rooms and found his target in a room on the right. Entering the room, he immediately noticed the smell; it was musty, like stale body odour mixed with faded laundry detergent. The blinds were pulled down, although slight cracks in the blinds let in streams of sunlight. Motes of dust flashed in the narrow shafts of light. Clothes littered the floor as if someone had been looking for something specific. The bed didn’t match the rest of the scene; it was made precisely, the covers clean and colourful compared to the drab dirtiness that surrounded it.

He approached carefully and slowly, although experience had taught him he didn’t need to use any stealth; his targets never seemed to sense him.

This one was a woman. Sometimes they were women, and other times men. Their ages were all different too. She appeared to be around twenty-five and was sitting cross-legged on the bed, arms hanging loosely by her sides. On her head was a gold coloured helmet; smooth except for one small dial and knob near the right top portion. A black pair of goggles covered her eyes. Carl guessed they were too dark to see through, but he wasn’t certain about that. Her mouth was turned up in a grin; they were always grinning, often with a bit of clear drool dribbling down from one corner of their mouths. There was no drool this time, but the grin was certainly there.

Carl stood and watched her for a moment, making sudden small movements to see if he could get her attention. Nothing. There was no reaction at all. Leaning in close, he read the logo on the front of the helmet. He already knew what it would say, but it had become part of his ritual and it felt odd not to do it. Plus it delayed what had become the worst part of the mission.

‘Tygon 3.0, Thorn Inc.’ He wondered what Tygon was, and if Thorn Inc. had something to do with Mr. Thorn. Often simulations included familiar names and situations because the Sim used details from existing data in the system to fill in unimportant blanks.

Carl shook his head and dismissed the idea that it was of any importance; he’d wasted enough time. Reaching behind his back, he unsheathed a long, sharp blade. With a quick slash he performed his task, watching grimly as the avatar crumpled silently back onto the bed. The blood pooled around her throat onto the clean sheets beneath her as Carl turned and left the bedroom.

He saw a towel lying on the floor in the hallway and
he bent down to wipe his blade. He continued his search, checking the remaining two rooms in the house.

In one of them he found a teenage boy frozen in place, also wearing
a helmet and a grin. Carl quickly dispatched him and exited the house through the back patio doors.

Hopping the fence, he made his way to the next house, looking for a back entrance. He looked at his watch and realized he’d have to pick up the pace. He had two hundred and ninety-two more targets to find and eliminate before his time in this game ran down to zero.

Chapter 62

“I heard you want to add another member to your team,” Cooper said. “I don’t recommend a hand with six digits, Brandon. It isn’t as useful as it might sound.”

“I’m not adding another member to my team,” Brandon said. “You showed me how to build a network, Cooper. Carl’s a key member of mine, and I want him to join us in the thirty year Sim.”

Cooper smiled. Early on he’d taught Brandon that his Hand was the General’s best, not only for their skill and prowess in the field, but also because of the vast network that Cooper and his team had built over the years. Brandon had learned this lesson well, and built his own network
among the Facility’s Gamers that included almost every team and notable player who had played inside the Sim in the thirteen years that it had been live. The list of people that Brandon could rely on for help was impressive.

“A team is guided and controlled by its members,” Cooper said. “A network is accepted for what it is, and tapped into when the situation allows.”

“Exactly,” Brandon nodded.

“Asking to bring Carl with you is controlling him, when you should monitor the situations and use Carl when the time and opportunity present themselves.”

“I get it, Cooper — honestly, I do,” Brandon said. “I’m not telling Carl to come join us. I simply see an opportunity, and if the situation presents itself, then I would like to get him an invite into the Sim.”

“What is it you want to have him do for you?” Cooper asked.

Brandon explained his plan, and Cooper nodded in agreement. “Okay, I see what you’re getting at. Carl will be perfect, but there’s a slight problem.”

“What?” Brandon asked.

“He’s Blurred, and he’s on assignment for the General.”

A cold sensation gripped Brandon’s stomach, and he felt ill. They’d heard rumours of what was happening with Blurred players but had tried not to listen too closely. To prevent it from happening to them, they’d increased their meditation sessions. The entire team had been relieved when they were removed from the Sim and put into Thorn’s public virtual reality, where the dangers of Blurring seemed significantly diminished.

“What does that mean?” Brandon asked.

“It means,” Cooper said with a grim look, “that he thinks he’s inside the Sim killing computer generated NPCs for points, when in fact, he’s in the real world killing people the General wants dead.”

“This whole Sim project was intended to turn us into better killing machines for the General,” Brandon said.

“Absolutely,” Cooper said. “His plan was to create even better soldiers to help him solidify control over the real world.”

“And Thorn helped him.”

“Yes, Thorn helped him. Then Thorn took it to the next level, making things go from bad to worse.”

“The General wanted to rule the people of the world, but Thorn might end up destroying them all,” Brandon guessed.

Cooper nodded. “There are stories of people staying inside Tygon for so long that they’re starving to death, sitting in their homes with their VR helmets on.”

“That’s horrible,” Brandon said.

“Yes, and that’s one of the
less horrific stories. There have been reports of people stealing and killing each other to get enough money to subscribe to Tygon 3.0 for just a few more days. People are becoming hooked on the game almost immediately. Their lives are so much better inside Tygon that they abandon reality until they die.”

Brandon shook his head in bewilderment. “So who do we help?  The General or Thorn?”

Cooper answered immediately, “Thorn. The popularity of Tygon 3.0 wasn’t anticipated. There have been interactive online games around for decades and none of those have ever resulted in this type of problem.”

“It’s the immersion aspect of it,” Brandon said. “There should have been some type of control over who went in, a limit to how long each session could last… perhaps adults shouldn’t have been allowed to play it.”

“All good ideas,  but it’s a little late to implement them now. We need to help Thorn get this situation under control. I’ve told you what the General has Carl doing. We can’t help the General or we’ll all end up being his slaves.”

“I have an idea, Cooper, about how to fix this.”

“Which part?” Cooper asked.

“All of it.” Brandon seemed possessed; Cooper wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he nodded.

“How can I help?” Cooper asked.

Brandon scribbled a list of names and handed it to Cooper. “Get me Carl and the other players on this list. I don’t care how you do it, or what favours you have to call in, Cooper, but I need these people to go into the thirty year
Sim with me.”

Cooper couldn’t put his finger on it, but his gut told him that he had to help Brandon get what he was asking for.
“Give me the names,” he said. “I’ll do my best. ”

Chapter 63

Lohkam opened his eyes and quickly closed them. He made his right hand into a tight fist and put it to his forehead. Tapping the middle part of his head, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“No!” he yelled. “I told you I couldn’t do this again, dammit!”

The entry room for both the Sim and Tygon was plain, undecorated, and white, but this room was a clearly a bedroom that belonged to a teenager.

Posters covered the dark blue walls, clothes were thrown on the floor, and the far wall had a shelf with books and trophies on it. Thorn sat on a chair beside the bed, staring pleasantly at Lohkam. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in this,” he said.

Lohkam’s eyes flashed angrily. He jumped up from the bed and grabbed a letter opener off the desk, holding it to his throat. “I have a choice,” he said. “I can rip my throat out now,
and ride on out.”

Thorn shook his head, “You know better than that, Lohkam,” he said. “The consequences of suicide have been explained since your first orientation day.”

Lohkam growled and threw the blade. It sunk into the wall with a solid thunk. “Fine, then,” he said. “I’ll sit here and waste my entire life.” He glanced at the computer in the corner of his room. “I’ll play video games and eat pizza for the next twenty years until my bloated, sick body gives up and dies. I’ll exit the Sim that way; it’s one of the acceptable ways to kill myself, right?”

“If you want,” Thorn shrugged. “It’s stupid, but entirely within your rights to waste a play.”

“Then that’s how I’ll play it,” Lohkam nodded.

“I didn’t think you’d let Brandon win so easily, but I guess it must get tiring losing to someone better than you for so many years.”

Lohkam stiffened at the mention of Brandon’s name. “Why’d you have to bring up the Runt?” he asked.

Thorn smiled, “Because he’s doing a thirty year Sim, too.”

“I’m guessing all the leaders are doing one,” Lohkam said. “Since I specifically asked not to and I’m still here, anyone else who did the same likely got the same treatment.”

“You’re correct, Lohkam. The real world is a colossal mess and I need everyone to do their part.”

“Our part?” Lohkam yelled. “What do you expect us to do? You’re an adult and you’ve managed to mess things up. What do you expect kids like us to do?”

“You’re not regular kids. After you complete this second Sim you’ll have
the experiences and knowledge from having lived over seventy years. Plus you’ll still be in a young body. All of you are more than regular children. You’re much more than the General anticipated, and one of you could very well help save the world.”

“The world’s not gonna end, and none of us are gonna help to save it.”

Thorn shook his head. “You have no clue what’s happening in the Dream right now. Pay attention this time, Lohkam, and over the next thirty years you’ll see why the Tygon 3.0 game became so addictive and destructive.”

“Is this Tygon 3.0?” Lohkam asked.

“No, this is Tygon 1.0. It’s a secure, standalone server with a billion NPCs living lives that mirror how our world was until a short time ago. The NPCs believe that they are as real as you and I. They are born, they grow up, work, love and struggle. Then they die. For them, this is real life. Most of them don’t believe they get another one when this ends.”

Lohkam stood and glared at Thorn for a moment. Finally he sat back down on the bed. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

Thorn stood in front of Lohkam. “Life in the Facilities and then the Sim didn’t allow you to feel like you were a member of your own race,” he said. “The General spent all his effort to make you into soldiers, but I need you to be citizens.”

“Why?” Lohkam looked confused.

Thorn didn’t expect him to understand, but he answered anyway. “Because if you feel like you are truly a part of this world, then perhaps you’ll want to use your considerable gifts to help save the real world when you return to us. Gain some knowledge and empathy for your race, then be ready to work hard to save it when you come back.”