Battle Avatars

by Ed White

  Stepping around the edge of kitchen counter, I let the woman pass before closing my door.

  As I start to speak, she gestures to my small couch. “We should talk about your experience this evening, Mr. Grey.”

  “My, ‘experience’?”

  “To be delicate and direct, yes.”

  “Devil’s advocate, what did I experience?”

  She smiles and nods toward the couch. I raise my hand, cross arms and lean against the kitchen and living room divider.

  Her eyes narrow. “You don’t recall?”

  How do I play this, and what is their game? Pun intended. “You said there’s an invite in that package? What for? A free session?”

  “Oh, far more, Mr. Grey.” She extends her arm to me again, offering the envelope. “David, would you like to have a look?”

  With a sigh, I take the envelope. I look inside.

  There are a number of Lenscape booklets for the various game types and aspects of Lenscape, fliers and such, and a bundle of legal paperwork, including a work contract and non-disclosure agreement.

  “An NDA? So what I ‘experienced’ was unusual? Why bring attention to it?”

  She smiles. “The Gaea Conglomerate is a transparent organization, David, and this is a matter of health and safety.” Pausing, she steps forward, touching my hand and removing the invitation from the package. “Here, this explains things. Will you have a read of it?”

  Fumbling with the papers, I back into the kitchen and drop them onto the counter. Taking the invitation, I see that it is offering me a job with the Conglomerate as a game moderator.

  “Wait. You want me to be a GM? But I know only a little about Lenscape.”

  “No, you see, the role of a gamemaster in the Lenscape is to enforce the game’s rules and provide general customer service as a paid employee of the Conglomerate.”

  I wave the invitation. “That’s what it says. What I mean is, what I’m asking is, are you going to train me to be a customer service rep? Listen to people complaining? That’s no better than the job I do now. Well, except I won’t be the one responsible. I won’t be management. Actually, how much less will I be paid?”

  Shaking my head, tired, angry, and knowing what that will do to my stomach tomorrow, I gather up the pile of documents. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “David.”

  I whip my head around. “No. You can go.”

  A moment of sadness flickers across the woman’s face and I realize I don’t know her name. A moment of weakness, chivalry, being the damned gentleman my parents taught me to be, living by example.

  “Look, I hate my current job, and I appreciate the opportunity, but it’s late, and I have a condition, if I don’t get enough sleep, it only makes it worse.”

  Her hand rests on mine. “David, we can help with that, will you allow me ten more minutes?”

  We stare. She’s pleasant to look at, pretty damned hot, truthfully, but calming too, and confident. My definition of sexy.

  “Okay, let’s sit then. But only ten minutes. And I’m sorry, but what was your name?”

  She takes my hand in both of hers. “Julia Beechum.”

  Having both sat down on my small but comfortable couch, Julia leans forward with a sly smile.

  “You can prevent forest fires.”

  I frown. “Forest fires? What?”

  “You won’t be a desk-riding customer service rep, you will enter the Lenscape and seek out hackers like those you encountered tonight.”

  “Those armored guys, that freakish army of armored grim reapers? Jonesy’s crew thought they were his old team.”

  “They hacked the game to enable abilities, and form an army of NPCs, leveled far beyond your friend.”

  “Yes, but his old group, their mercenary company, or whatever you call it, they have higher levels of PCs leading…”

  Her raised hand stops me.

  “Perhaps. But as I said, I’m offering you a job to fight against hackers entering the Lenscape.”

  “Fight? So, I can play while mending the game, like the monks?”

  “Yes, David, you can help protect the Lenscape. You can become a Battle Avatar.”

  “I can become a Battle Avatar? Those OP, super-level characters, rolling in and taking names?” I wonder whether she knows I jumped into Stalem’s avatar.

  Her eyebrows pinch the skin above her nose—her head tilts in time with her raised hand. “No. You’re getting ahead of me. First, you have to prove yourself. Level up. But the primary rule is to maintain your cover as a player, take note of bugs, look for suspicious activities and attributes, root out the hackers, and report to us. If you succeed in that you will be awarded a broader contract.”

  “Why don’t you track their addresses, like you have mine, and tell the police about them? Call the po-po.”

  I think I got a genuine smile that time, not laced with a sales pitch or an effort to avoid me suing the Conglomerate.

  “Well, David, it’s a delicate matter of secrecy. Best we avoid drawing attention to intruders within the Lenscape. It’s essential we keep this out of the media, both news and social. Imagine how people will see this. To the majority, a thing such as this creates an uncertainty as to their safety, and a disruption of fair gaming and the in-game economy.”

  There it is: money. It’s all about the dollahs. I notice the NDA in her lap. “And if I don’t sign that agreement?”

  “Well, for one, you’d not benefit from the extensive nervous system knowledge gained from the implementation of the Lenscape device technology.”

  I rub the back of my hand.

  “Stress causes a great many secondary illnesses. You will be fully covered as a member of our community. Benefit from the latest in medical advances.”

  An end to the daily cycle of nausea, pain and exhaustion sounded like heaven. Something so many people took complacently for granted.

  “Here,” I extend my hand. “I’ll read it. But explain how this is gonna work.”

  She passes the NDA forms. “Once you log on, you must stay in the Lenscape until you find those responsible for today’s intrusion.”

  “Stay in? How does that work? I heard about the Dream Walkers, or whatever you officially call them, but what about taking a crap? Eating?”

  “Our technology covers that.” Brusquely: “And more importantly, the system will diagnose your illness during that time. But you will be working for us. You may take a hiatus from your current job, or you can join us full-time.”

  “But hiring me, maybe healing me, is reliant upon my success in this? My job won’t let me Dream Walk, not until some type of legislation. Which, I gotta say, ain’t likely to be passed.”

  “Perhaps. Now, think of the consequences to the Dream Walker aspect of the Lenscape, here in the real world. What if a successful hack cut players’ bodies off from our systems and someone died? Why, no-one would trust us to care for their body while logged in.”

  With a grimace, I shrug. “I don’t like the idea of Dream Walking. If I don’t like it, do I have to Dream Walk?”

  “Only so much as for you to remain in the Lenscape for your duties.”

  Ha. She said duties about…yeah, it wasn’t so funny.

  “To further assure you, consider this. If you resign your current employment, and fail as a GM, you may remain with the Conglomerate as a salesman. It is your primary career, correct?”

  She had me there. “Yes.” Not my desired career, but I don’t all that particularly believe in careers. “How long do I have to think about it?”

  “You may speak to your current employer and report to our local offices, Friday, with those documents.” She gestures toward the stack atop the envelope, then taps the NDA form still held in my hand. “But I have to leave with a signed non-disclosure, tonight, for the offer to remain open until Friday.”

  Friday. Two days. Going to be a long talk with Jonesy tomorrow.

  She raises a finger. “Once you’ve signed the non-disclosure,
you aren’t to share this offer or any details with anyone else, including your friends. Should you choose to join us, you are simply tending your resignation to your employer.”

  “Jonesy didn’t send you?”

  “Primary rule, David: maintain your cover. Even from your fellow gamers and friends. Understood?”

  “Yeah.” Legal papers. Bad press. Media storm. Something wrong with the biggest, latest gaming industry titan. Yeah, I understood.

  I lower to the form and sign it. “Do I get hush money?”

  “You receive a monthly wage and a bonus for every hacker you uncover.” She touches my knee. “And medical. We cover medical plans and all employees are entitled to our latest medical research resulting from the development of the Lenscape.”

  Creepy. “How much do you know about my condition?”

  She shrugs. “Social media. You aren’t online much, but yes, we’ve done our research on you.”

  How else did they find where I lived? And people laugh at conspiracy theories. I only discuss facts, not theories. They researched me in a matter of hours and arrived at my address with bait. I said: “Well, you found me here.”

  “We found you here because of the voucher Mr. Jones made out to you, David.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks heat up.

  “Oh, indeed.” She rises with her hands sliding from her knees up her thighs, to straighten her jacket. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  I hesitate before standing, as she gives a subtle nod to the door. “My ten minutes are up.”

  “Okay, yeah. I’ll, uh, look into all of this.” My eyes fall to the gentle sway of her hips. “Damn.”

  “Pardon?” She glances over her shoulder.

  “Uh, what? I mean, sorry. Let me get the door.” She smiles as I squeeze past her. She steps back because the door opens inward, and for a moment, we’re face to face, her lavender scent pleasant and mild.

  Sliding along the end of the wall before the kitchen counter I open and gesture to the door. She nods, smiles, and is off to the stairwell.

  ***

  Unable to sleep, I read through the documents and scour the internet for information on the history of the Conglomerate, Lenscape and the pharmaceutical divisions and companies that consist of the medical side of the corporate entity. It’s a long damned list.

  The Conglomerate for Gaea’s Greater Good, better known as the Gaea Conglomerate, has expanded into several industries in the last five years. Raking in billions in their entertainment division, they doubled down on the technologies that make Lenscape possible, entering into medical and of course, military research. Not sure how military goals benefit Gaea, our planet, but whatever. More recent, however, is their entry into the space race. Why sleep on your way to the outer solar system or exo-planet, when you could “Dream Walk” through it and enjoy the realms of Lenscape?

  That all sounded very corporate—the very nature of PR and hoopla. The whole “Conglomerate for the Gaea’s Greater Good” too.

  A number of military industrial companies like the Beechum Corporation joined at the core of the Conglomerate, and Julia likely taken her position through nepotism. Still, she served as a sign of the importance of her visit. Something bad went on, that they want to figure out. A family member of the board itself visited me to ensure word of my “experience” stayed off social media. This is a multi-billion-dollar gaming franchise and little old me threatened that. I suppose there’s leverage in such things, even with the NDA I signed.

  Those fractals, the light show before I woke up. The critters and that arrogant SOB talking down to me. Clearly, I spotted a gaping bug in the system. The hackers exploited that bug and the Battle Avatars put the smack down on them before I helped finish it. What did I see? A patch? It looked like what people describe of a bad acid trip, and that pill Jonesy gave me still seems like LSD or maybe DMT. Both result in psychedelic experiences. But I don’t know of a more psychedelic, trippy experience than my last moments within Lenscape.

  Rubbing my eyes, I feel the familiar, slight adjustment between my stomach and gut that always precedes a day of suffering through unrelenting nausea and pain. Dropping my phone beside my pillow, I collapse from a sitting position, pulling the covers over me.

  ***

  Sunlight streams in through ceiling to floor windows onto a broad and long conference table. Over two dozen men and women sit on opposite sides in a variety of military suits and uniforms, each with unique patches, military insignia and rank emblems, all at the levels of general or higher. A large white United Nations symbol is displayed in reverse, on the glass walls of the conference room above the letters D.P.I., but the full title below the letters is too long and small to be read from my vantage and more people obstruct my view as they jostle and talk before sitting to the table.

  From among the crowd, a tall man, towering over the others, pale, red-haired, leaps over the table, his hands clawed, reaching for me with uncontrolled rage. Pain sears across my skull as I strike the window, a sharp crack pierces my ears as the crazed man tightens his death grip around my throat.

  I lunge out of bed, falling to the floor grasping at my throat.

  Shit, now I can’t even escape the worry and stress while I sleep?

  Now I’m having nightmares?

  In Lenscape, I felt total bliss, complete escape from the pain while inside the game. Lenscape was a frigging release.

  Drenched in sweat, my muscles tense and shaking, I breathe and calm myself, followed by a long shower. I’ve slept and yet I’m exhausted. This can’t go on.

  Exiting the apartment, I’m greeted by the disheveled Mr. Morris leaning against his open doorway. Two doors down, a pair of young Asian ladies wheel boxes from the stairwell. Both are sweating in tight, skimpy sports clothing.

  Mr. Morris pays me no mind as he continues ogling the girls. I pass him by with my eyes glued on the caramel skin and firm arms and legs of the two lovely ladies. Both grin and nod at me as I approach. Cursing my job, I wave at the ladies, passing by them a bit slower than necessary and enter the stairwell. I’ve gotta miss out on helping and getting to know my sexy new neighbors so I can be at work on time, or to be precise, arrive with enough time to be in my office, at my desk, on time. My sigh echoes through the empty levels of the stairwell.

  Chapter Six

  The parking lot is unusually full when I arrive, so I park pretty damn far from the United Foods office complex. A good ten-minute walk and I’m already too late to be in my office logging in on time. They’ll be sure to take note. A pleasant, automatic system email will warn both me and my immediate supervisor—and of course, the general manager. They say it doesn’t happen, but that’s a load of BS. The damned emails are linked to your annual assessments.

  Entering the building, there’s an aura of tension, although no one is articulating it. Reaching the sales offices, I’m approached by one of my few true friends at the company since Jonesy left. She pulls me over to one of the bulk photocopiers and begins to check the paper loaders.

  “Have you heard?”

  Looking around, I touch her shoulder. “About?”

  “The bigwigs are here, with a few visitors.”

  “So we’ve got a new line, or reps have come in to see the trade. What about it?”

  “No, David, visitors from our competitors at Farmark.”

  “Oh.” The tension made sense: Farmark’s an enormous international food collective.

  “What’s the gossip, Angela?”

  Angela slams a paper tray shut and the copier wines and whirs.

  “They’ve bought the company. Our competitors are now our coworkers. We are Farmark.”

  My head darts about. “That’s official?”

  She stands up. “No one is allowed to leave for sales calls or deliveries, and there’s two large meetings scheduled with the staff. So it’s either that or we’re all fired.”

  “Laid off.”

  “That’s not funny, David.”

  “Made redundant?�
�

  Angela slaps my arm and some of our coworkers take notice.

  Gladys, from international marketing, grins and nods. “That’s right girl, you set him straight.”

  It’s wonderful how much communication there is here at my job, my personal hell.

  Running around, fighting monsters, leveling up, looking for bugs and hackers all day. Oh Lenscape, where have you been all my life?

  That reminds me, as soon as the meetings are done with, I’m calling Jonesy for answers. To hell with it! I pull out my phone.

  Me: Jonesy, when you wake up, text me. I’ve got two big meetings, then I’m calling your ass.

  Angela watches me press my phone back into my pocket. “You better get to your office and log in, plus check your emails. As a manager, I’m sure they need to meet with you first about what to tell your sales staff.”

  The sales drivers. They must be down at the warehouse syncing their sales devices. As soon as they see they can’t leave they’ll be bitching about losing sales and getting in trouble for losing sales. Sadly, even when the bosses schedule the meetings, they turn around and complain about the flurry of lost sales that go down the toilet as a result. Oh, this place. I think I hear the word Lenscape sung in my mind. Its alluring siren call.

  Sheila from HR heads me off, a look of urgency on her usually chipper face. “David. Good morning!” Her singsong voice dips to a serious tone: “We’ve an individual session with you in ten minutes. We’ve sent an email. Have a read and we’ll see you in a moment in the secondary HR training room.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, yes. See you then. Gotta go.” Singsong and she is off again down the hall.

  An email. Uh huh. I didn’t see any emails before leaving last night. They always wait until the last possible minute. Same old. There’s that sigh again. Seems all I do is sigh.

  My computer booted, I log in and wait a few minutes. The usual list of nuisance emails, external and internal junk mail, orders and invoices populate my email inbox. But I’m not searching for any of those. The most important message is buried in the middle of the forty some listed.