Resurgence: The Rise of Resurgence Book 1 (19 page)

“I don’t care how they laugh guys; this was a job well done!” I said.

“Absolutely. But I am exhausted, and that last fight was a bit stressful. If you guys don’t mind, I am going to say we call it and get back online tomorrow to see what the next adventure is,” Jason told the group.

We were all in agreement, but only Jason planned to log off. Dan and Wayne had plans to go and get wild at the Tavern, with Dan making even more comments about his fur and how women couldn’t wait to rub themselves on it. I wasn’t worried though, since I knew Wayne would be with him.

I told the guys I would be logging off soon myself, but in reality I was headed out of the city. There was a door in the middle of the woods I planned on finding.

* * *

I headed out to the woods, passing the first spot that I ever logged in. Even though that was only a little over two weeks ago, after all we had done, it seemed like ages. I followed the point on my map, but kept an eye out for any mobs that might aggro me on my way there. I was no Tank, and if I got attacked there was a good chance I was going to get tore up. Better to avoid any trouble by looking ahead.

After traveling for 15 minutes I approached the area of the woods that Simon had marked on my map. It all looked the same, except for a slight mound that I could see in the not far distance. I realized this must be the hill that Simon mentioned. As I slowly began approaching the hill I noticed the door. As I got closer I also saw the four mobs that Simon had described. There were two Giant Bears, one Dire Wolf, and one War Boar. Even at my level 11, they were all red to me. Meaning just one could have killed me in no time flat.

I decided to test what Simon had said and inched my way closer to the mound and the door. As I did, the four mobs turned toward me and also began advancing in my direction. As soon as I saw them do this, I started to back away, and so did they. So at least that part of Simon’s story was true. I decided not to test the second part by trying again. I had no desire to have one of these beasts jump out at me.

There was no way I was going to take these mobs. Not even if I had my complete crew. The solution was simple, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing anything else first. After walking the perimeter of the hill and not seeing anything else of note, I backed away again until the point where the mobs had gone back to resting. I then activated my Conceal/Stealth. Now effectively invisible to the mobs, I began to approach the door.

I was sweating profusely, and my heart was racing. I kept looking at each mob as I got closer, just waiting for one of them to see through my invisibility and attack me. But my skills worked, and I was able to make it all the way to the door without getting any aggro from the mobs.

While I stood in front of the door, I checked it over looking for any obvious signs of traps. I couldn’t see any, but then again I had not unlocked the See Traps or Deactivate Traps skills that would come at a higher level. With no other options in front of me than opening the door or walking back to Port Town, I put my hand on the knob of the door, and turned it.

A small pop sounded as the door opened. And I saw that I was hit for 1 point of damage. The door was trapped. And while the 1 point of damage did absolutely nothing to hurt me, it did negate my invisibility. I immediately saw all four mobs turn toward me. With no other choice but to be killed or jump through the doorway, I ultimately chose survival.

Avoiding the beasts, I leapt through the door and found myself in a dark room with almost no light. I could see thanks to my racial eyesight skill, but there was nothing in front of me. As I was about to look around I felt a dagger pressed against my kidney.

“You better have a really good reason for being here laddie,” came a whisper from behind.

“I was told to come here by a man in a cloak. He had two daggers he said came from a beast in the Mason Mountains. He never gave me a name,” I answered, holding my breath. If I died here, I may never get my body back.

“How’d you find the door?” he asked.

“Simon Temple,” I responded.

The figure quickly spun me around and I saw he was a Halfling dressed all in black. I was going to ask if the only reason the dagger was at my kidney was because that was how far up he could reach. But I thought better of it.

“Ahhhh, so you’re the one. I was told to expect you. Didn’t think you would get here so soon. I’m called Standolous, but you can call me Stan. I’m to be your trainer boy,” Stan said to me.

“Stan the Man, got it. So I’ve reached The Underground?”

Stan laughed at me before responding, “First off, no” Stan said while continuing to chuckle, “no. You have not reached The Underground. You’ve simply found my home. But here is where we will train. Once I feel you are ready, I will guide you to The Underground. But don’t get your hopes up. Good chance you will die before that.

“Second, if you call me that again I will stab you in your appendix. You don’t really need it. But it will hurt. A lot. And I’ll like it.” As he spoke, Stan stopped laughing. By the time he got to that last sentence, he looked down right evil.

I wasn’t all that daunted since dying didn’t have the same effect on me as it did on NPCs. But Stan seemed to sense my thoughts and said, “And yes, I know that if you die you will come back. But if you die during training I will just consider you a failure. And without my recommendation, you don’t see The Underground. Understood?”

I nodded my head in agreement. Shit just got real.

“Well then, why don’t we start now. I’m going to show you how to move in the shadows. Not like you were doing outside. That looked like a manticore running through a pottery shop,” Stan said. I’m pretty sure that was the local equivalent to “bull in a china shop” but who really knew. I had planned on logging out, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen any time soon. But damn if my heart wasn’t beating fast again. But this time because I was about to embark on a totally unique and singular adventure.

* * *

Interlude

AltCon Board Room

“Report.”

Sitting at the foot of the table, Terrence Jolston was just beginning his briefing to the board. He loathed these meetings. A bunch of accountants and MBAs who only cared about the profit and not what it took to get there. Almost every idea he had come up with during these tests had initially been shot down by the board as not being cost productive, or a risk to shareholder confidence,

or some other crap. If it weren’t for the big man at the top floor, who actually had vision, Jolston doubted these tests would even be happening now.

“Our initial tests have been successful. As detailed in my initial report, we will continue to monitor and adjust the algorithms appropriately. We currently have two simultaneous runnings of Betas for Resurgence, both with 3000 test subjects. We plan to slowly integrate stimuli within the game that will allow our teams to test the effectiveness of our conditioning,” Jolston said to the group.

Jolston hated all the stupid politically correct words they had to use at these meetings. Conditioning they told him. Might as well call it what it was, programming. And just like in any programming, they were using code, only this was no simple code. What made it even more difficult was each of the simultaneous Beta’s required a unique code. Another thing that the paper pushers and bean counters hated. They wanted a one size fits all answer that would lead to even more profits.

The tests were progressing very smoothly as well. There had only been the one anomaly from test subject 271 in the introvert Beta. And even then, only the one report. Jolston had checked on 271’s progress a few days later, and did not note any additional anomalies from the subject. Having not received any further reports, Jolston believed the AI likely self-corrected the problem.

It was Jolston that first suggested splitting the Beta into two different groups, after speaking with the psychologists and medical doctors who assisted with the programming trials prior to interfacing them with the game. According to the doctors, the same stimulus that seemed to work on the introverts did not work on the extroverts. And vice versa. Of course the bureaucrats didn’t want to hear it, since this would cut into profits. In the end, Jolston didn’t even need to go to the big man when he noted that release would come infinitely sooner if they did things his way. And quicker release meant greater profits. The language of these clowns.

Jolston wished that he could have taken credit for the delivery system of the programming, but that honor went to a very little known psychologist in Iceland who was using virtual therapy immersion to help addicts with their addictions. The key was those lines that formed as each person entered into the virtual realm, what gamers called the “hyperdrive lines.” AltCon had conceived of a way to implant their own code, far more complex than anything the doctor in Iceland was using, into these lines. What they were attempting to do was rewrite the behavior of millions. And all for one purpose, the benefit of AltCon.

After Jolston finished his briefing to the board, they asked the usual questions about timeline and release dates. They continuously forgot that the timeline had already been set at a one-year trial for the Beta and that there was not going to be any deviation from that. It was understandable to a point. As the year progressed, the Resurgence project only cost money, not providing any profits in return. They wanted to pre-release the RACs at the least to offset the cost of the Beta. But releasing the RACs could lead to competitors getting their hands on the hardware and trying to reverse engineer it, and potentially coming up with something better. This was going to be a challenge anyway once Resurgence came out, but if the programming was successful, as the testing was leading them to believe, then everyone that was using AltCon RACs and playing the game would be urging everyone they know to only purchase AltCon. This number was going to likely be in the vast millions of users.

The applications for this level of programming of people were far reaching, but AltCon was only interested in the bottom line of profit margins. And why not? The latest computer models showed that with 100 percent effectiveness, AltCon could become the largest global company in one year’s time. Their annual profit would be larger than most countries GDP. Their total value would be on par with most European countries. And after five years, the only country with a larger GDP would be the United States of America. AltCon would be the largest economic power in the world.

And all with a loyal and willing consumer base that would do anything for the company. The big man had vision for sure.

* * *

Undisclosed Location

“Report.”

“It’s like I said at the last one of these meetings, there is nothing going on in the game brohemski,” said a man sitting at the end of a long table with his feet on the desk. He was wearing a colorful Hawaiian type shirt and was the opposite of professionalism.

“Must you speak like that?” Asked a very serious looking man at the front of the room. He had a close cut hair style and wore a well-fitting suit. He did not look terribly happy.

“I gotta stay in character dude. If I slip up these guys are going to know it. These ain’t no rhubarbs I’m telling you. In fact, you may want to recruit all of ‘em when this is done.”

This was the third meeting that had convened since the launch of the game, and each one was the same. They learned almost nothing about what AltCon was doing.

Two years previously, the Department of Defense was working on integrating an advanced Artificial Intelligence into their simulation models to increase the abilities of their battlefield commanders. The DoD interviewed numerous programmers and developers. Only two stuck out.

One was the current model the DoD was using, but the other was so free flowing, and borderline sentient, that the DoD had to turn its creator down. The AI was amazing, but having something near sentient in close proximity to so many weapons of mass destruction was a recipe for disaster. So with a “Thank you very much, but no thanks,” the DoD sent Bobby Shoal on his way, never to be heard from again. Until many months ago.

Late one night, one of the DoD employees who knew Shoal from their days at university together received a call from him. Shoal sounded like he was panicking. He kept saying, “I didn’t know what they were doing. This isn’t right. It just isn’t right. Please, I need your help.” Before the DoD officer could get more details, the line went dead.

The next day, the newspaper had an article on the third page about a car accident where the driver wrapped his car around a tree at an excessive speed. The driver, Bobby Shoal, was killed on impact. He was also two and a half times over the legal drinking limit.

What might have sounded like a tragedy of youth, was taken seriously at the DoD when they heard about the phone call, and learned that Bobby Shoal was a Mormon and hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in his life. The DoD also learned that soon after Shoal was turned down for their position, he began working at AltCon. And rumor had it, his AI was being used to control their most revolutionary and newest gaming platform. And the Beta would be starting for that game soon.