Mastermind

by Steven Kelliher

“You are Despot,” B5 said. I cringed. Hearing it repeated back to me didn’t quite have the ring I’d hoped. “I am here to serve you.”

  I didn’t quite know what to make of that.

  “Do you count as tech, then?” I remembered the bright flash that had emanated from the gemstone in the tower’s nest, and figured I was speaking to the origin of my Influence superpower. It was an unconventional origin story, and I didn’t know how I felt about receiving my abilities from an AI-controlled NPC, no matter how seemingly advanced.

  And it was advanced, landing somewhere between creepy and impressive.

  The bot blinked and followed it up with a long stare that I wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t sarcastic in nature.

  “If it helps you to understand, sir, then yes, I am a part of your… build,” he said, though he shouldn’t have known what that meant. B5 was programmed to see the world of Titan Online just like I saw the real world. At least, he should have been, but there was more to this bot than met the eye. I could feel it.

  That was a head-scratcher. Typically, something like this might be considered tech. Thing is, I’d never heard of tech directly granting a superpower. But who was I to argue?

  “I suppose I should be asking what your purpose is. Are you my butler or something?”

  “I am here to serve you, to help you, and, ultimately, to crush your enemies and see them driven before you.”

  That one almost got me. “You’ve got a sense of humor, too?”

  B5 didn’t answer, but I thought I saw a knowing spark in those green bug’s bulbs.

  Now that my initial surprise and ensuing annoyance had passed, I had to admit the butler’s words were tantalizing. Titan Online wasn’t based on strict classes like traditional RPGs and early decade MMOs had been. As such, it was difficult to know exactly what to do with superpower and ability sets like the one I had been given. Usually, this being a comic-book-inspired world, powers followed an archetype. Streak had been a speedster, but you also had your usual brutes and brawlers, your fliers and cosmic abilities, your psychics and psionists. But my superpower was ‘Influence,’ and it seemed to come with the free-thinking, automated AI program standing in front of me. Or rather, resting in my pocket.

  To be blunt, I had no idea what to make of it.

  Sometimes, the AI built in a poorly-concealed tutorial to assist new players and help them fill the role the AI wanted to set them on. The alien core – and by extension, its droid mouthpiece – didn’t quite seem as simple as a tutorial program, but he also didn’t look like he was about to sprout turrets and start hunting down all those I deemed worthy of the attention.

  Then I remembered what else he had said. “How do you plan to help me?”

  “Right this way, sir.” The droid stepped to his left and bowed, indicating the darkened gap between the slick concrete ramps.

  I felt a thrill mix with an inkling of dread. Did I really want to continue forward and invest in a build that might never have the power to challenge someone like Leviathan? Did I want to grind out an existence on the edges of War Town instead of roaming the bright and sunny streets of Titan City?

  But thinking my enemy’s name triggered the memories again. B5 didn’t have to ask twice.

  The walls began to shake as soon as I was a few yards into the underground tunnel beneath the dam, and the way went from dim to pitch black as the gap closed behind me with a great grinding of gears and hissing of hydraulics.

  B5 fiddled with something on the side of his head with those spindly metal fingers. His emerald eyes brightened harshly, causing me to shield my own, and soon the way was brightly lit.

  “Continue on, sir.”

  “Bossy one, aren’t you?”

  B5 didn’t answer as I turned and made my way down the tunnel.

  As far as I could tell, the path was flat. The cement underfoot was slick, and a fine mist leaked from cracks in the walls and in the low-hanging ceiling. Ahead, a sheer wall was covered in green moss. When I reached it, I followed the tunnel left, and nearly fell down a sharp decline.

  “Stairs, sir,” the droid said from behind me.

  I leaned forward, and realized my initial impression had been correct. There was no way down. The tunnel simply dropped off into a chasm that looked to go far down into the depths of the world. I saw hints of stalagmites, black enough to be carved from obsidian. They loomed below a waterfall that spilled in from the left side of a vast chamber. Beyond the toothy mounds, I saw a flat platform that could have been rock or frozen water, so perfect was its sheen.

  “You trying to kill me, friend?” I asked, filling my voice with as much threat as I could muster. It seemed to have little effect, and I wondered if I could even prevail over the slim mechanical man; after all, I had little to no idea how to use my superpower, let alone whether it would have any effect on a non-human NPC.

  B5 only blinked at me. He didn’t need to. There was no reason for him to blink, and I didn’t think verisimilitude factored into the design. Each blink, tilt of the head and little tic was intentional interaction, and the message B5 was trying to send – that I was an imbecile – was coming through as loud as he was quiet.

  “I cannot kill you, Despot,” B5 said. “You are my commanding officer.”

  “Try not to sound so disappointed—”

  “But speaking of death,” the droid continued, “I believe we should set this chamber as your respawn location.”

  “What exactly is this chamber?” I asked, looking around. There were so many jagged obsidian surfaces, it was tough to distinguish one from the next, and the mist from the waterfall laid an obscuring spell over all of it.

  “This was the base of one of your world’s heroes. Some of his old tech is still left over. I feel we can make use of it. Would you like to know his name?”

  “No thanks,” I said distractedly. “But I would like to know how you know about it.”

  “My memory logs contain all relevant information the Hive requires for an invasion, including extensive files on all of its protectors.”

  “Does that include the villains?” I asked.

  “The Hive does not distinguish,” B5 said, sounding creepier than ever. “Hero. Villain. Any with power could pose a threat.”

  “Could have,” I corrected.

  “Pardon, sir?”

  “Could have posed a threat,” I said, turning back to look at the unblinking droid. “The invasion failed, remember? You lost.”

  “Ah.” B5 nodded, once. “Quite so.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “That event didn’t go swimmingly for me either.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  I frowned and thought to ask how he knew the particulars of my death, but then I thought of the tower. This core had clearly been the power source for the whole structure. As such, it had likely witnessed Streak’s end, and it had also helped to usher in Despot’s beginning.

  “Where are these damn stairs you mentioned?” I asked.

  “Say ‘stairs,’ sir.”

  “Ah,” I said, looking from the droid back over the edge of the endless chasm. “Need to work on your clarity there, green.”

  “Noted, sir.”

  “Need to work on your attitude as well.”

  “Noted—”

  “Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand without turning to give him my cold regard. I braced my hands on either side of the tunnel’s walls in case the stairway’s emergence was more jarring than I could anticipate.

  “Stairs.”

  There was an immediate pop, which sounded like a firecracker set off in the middle of a street. It was followed by clanking and whirring, like belts passing over the loops and catches in a car engine, along with a faint squeal. I expected the stairs to emerge from the base of the tunnel in which I stood, so when I first saw them rising up from the cavern below to meet me, I was convinced it was some giant’s hand shooting out of the darkness to drag me down.

  I let go of the walls and darted ba
ck, colliding with B5 and sending us both down in a heap. My mask was knocked loose, and when I scrambled back to my feet, B5 was blinking up at me. I sighed and extended a hand toward the droid. He blinked at that, but took it and allowed me to pull him back up.

  We stepped onto the stairway that had come up out of the darkness of the chasm, and began to walk down. I thought I saw something glittering in the middle distance and squinted to see. B5 clapped once, and lights turned on from the airy recesses above. The white light illuminated the waterfall to my left and caused me to pause in appreciation, while summarily distracting me from the true grandeur of the cavern we now found ourselves in.

  The stairway ended on a roughly circular obsidian platform replete with stalagmites that looked like dragon’s teeth. Beyond the fangs, there were more geometric shapes atop the dais. They ranged from steel tables bolted into the rock to weapon racks set into the taller mounds toward the back of the platform. There was a series of chairs bolted into the ground around a particularly thick table with what looked to be projectors sprouting from its edges.

  I drifted between the tables and chairs, glided between the stalagmites and the raised obsidian mounds, toward the back of the platform. A large, flat stone, perfectly black, was set into a tall, flat stone tablet. We stood in front of it, feeling the spray from the lonely waterfall. I examined the tablet. Green light skittered across its surface like glowing mites. They formed symbols in patterns that made no sense to me, moving through various waves and loops and spirals until they formed together in a pattern I did recognize.

  “Huh,” I said in wonder, reaching out a gloved hand and brushing the black glass surface of the slab where the word ‘WELCOME’ was illuminated in emerald. I looked back at B5, whose eyes seemed to be flickering in tune with the digital machine.

  “Welcome, sir,” B5 said, “to your base.”

  I mouthed the words he’d said as if I was in a dream. I suppose the fact that I was this excited to have what could only be described as an evil lair was more than enough to cover my initial disappointment at receiving my first-ever Infamy points in Titan Online.

  “You can control this stuff?” I asked.

  “It is primitive,” B5 said. “But yes, I can.”

  “Does a hell of a lot, by the looks of things,” I said, pressing a hand to the lump over my heart as I scanned the platform.

  I walked through the chamber, touching as much as I could, flicking on various switches that did little more than illuminate various screens I didn’t know how to use. When I reached the stalagmites at the edge of the vaguely circular platform, I turned back to see B5 staring at me expectantly.

  I knew the alien core had found the base and the droid, but I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d discovered something here; something that could have been anyone’s, but was mine, and through sheer happenstance. Then I remembered the mission marker, and I frowned, wondering who was in command of whom.

  “What can my base do?” I asked, trying to keep the awe from my tone. “What can you do for me?”

  “First and foremost, this is your safe haven, where you can recuperate and recover should you suffer injury in the field.”

  A notification rose to this effect.

  Your secret base can now be set as your respawn point after a knockout.

  Would you like to set this location as your respawn point? Yes or No?

  I quickly tapped the glowing ‘Yes’ button, one of the few times in which the gaming side of Titan interrupted the more organic proceedings of the world.

  “The secret base will be the center of your operations,” B5 continued, his tone more mechanical than it had been before. More rehearsed. I was getting a prompted info dump, and for once, it was one I was hungry for. “In its current state, the base is outfitted with what you need to get started. The table you see before you is an advanced planning station. The racks off to your right are, as you likely surmised, meant to store ammunition, weapons and any tech you might come across, as well as those of your men.”

  “My men?”

  “Are you ready to discuss your Sphere of Influence, then?” B5 asked, but I could tell I had shifted him off his rails. I tried to shake my head and nod at the same time. “After this. First, finish. About the base, I mean.”

  “The slab behind me is the hub of your supercomputer.” I stared at it in wonderment, though it looked no more than a retro-style input screen with no keyboard to speak of. It certainly was hefty, but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with it. Thankfully, B5 was on the case. “With this, you can access all of my files – files on every minion in Titan City. This will allow you to gather relevant information that will be important for your missions to reach optimal victory conditions.”

  I frowned. I figured he was referring to NPCs, but I was unsure exactly how researching them would benefit me.

  “What kind of information would I need regarding these NPCs?”

  B5 didn’t seem interested in hiding his more blatant looks of confusion with me. Each made me feel dumber than the last.

  “Minions,” I amended.

  “Stats, susceptibility, locations, behaviors, abilities. Everything you could need to plan a successful addition to your forces.”

  Still, I was struggling to see how knowing NPC stats and behaviors was relevant to me. And then I remembered the docks, and the way Madam Post’s thugs had rallied around me and against another player. And then they had ‘Snapped.’

  “Would you like to discuss your Sphere of Influence now, sir?” B5 asked. I strode past him and began pacing in front of the black monitor. “I feel that you would find the information pertinent to your questions.”

  “Yes, B,” I said. “I would like to discuss my Sphere of Influence at this time. Thank you.”

  When he didn’t immediately launch into a new explanation, I turned to observe him. It seemed he was waiting for my full attention. Once he had it – and after I waved for him to get on with it – he spoke.

  “Superpower: Influence. Uses: the General can Influence the minds of minions and, as such, may provide strong suggestions and even commands to them, which will be obeyed as long as morale is strong and scalable conditions are met. Influence is tied to General’s charisma stat, with available Influence slots adding up to half of the current charisma score. This gives you fifteen available Influence slots at your current power level. Influence attempts run on the basis of difficulty checks. Low-level minions require lower rolls, while high-intelligence minions require circumstantial assistance for a successful check, such as bribes, credible threats or other positive or negative incentives. Additionally, high-intelligence and high-utility minions may take up multiple Influence slots, making inventory management imperative to ensuring an efficient use of your Sphere.”

  B5 blinked at me and I blinked back as I turned it all over.

  “All of this information – from recruitment difficulty to projected utility and retention rate – can be tracked, parsed and monitored at any time through your player UI. I am here to provide counsel where needed.”

  I clapped the droid on the shoulder. It was as awkward as you’d think. “I’m beginning to like you, B.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I turned back toward the black slab that may as well have been my holy book, gears turning. “How many NPCs – er, minions – are there in Titan?”

  “Current or historical?” B5 asked.

  “Current.”

  “Ten thousand seven hundred and eighty-one minions, sir, though the number shifts often, depending on various conflicts and crises.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, nodding along with him. “So, once I’ve got a minion… Influenced, he or she is mine?”

  “So long as you meet conditions on a persistent basis.”

  “Conditions?”

  “If morale is too low, or if a given minion verges too heavily on self-preservation and risk aversion, certain commands and events could result in Snapping.”

&nbs
p; “Snapping in this context meaning something along the lines of quitting, I’m guessing?”

  “Precisely, sir. As such, it is useful to know the morale levels for your Sphere of Influence at any given time, and to ensure minions are only given tasks that they have a high probability of completing successfully, lest they face termination or Snapping.”

  “That’s assuming I still need them.” I said it distractedly, but feeling B5’s curious greens on me, I swallowed and offered a disarming smile.

  “Yes,” B5 said. “Well, if it is your desire to keep minions Influenced, structure helps.”

  “The incentives you mentioned,” I reasoned.

  “Keeping your men and women happy enough or the right sort of frightened makes Snapping less likely over the long term.”

  “See?” I said, slapping the droid on the back. “You’re already getting to know me.”

  We both stood staring at the screen for a long moment. “Say, I did manage to Influence some of Madam Post’s goons down at the docks earlier today. They Snapped pretty quickly, but I also fled the scene. Not the best look for a General, admittedly. Think we should check on them?”

  “Absolutely.”

  B5 blinked rapidly, and the screen shifted, breaking into several windows. After more feigned processing from the machine, the windows began populating with what looked to be a form of a user interface very similar to the one I’d pulled up earlier.

  Alert: supercomputer activated!

  Sphere of Influence interface unlocked!

  There were some extra bells and whistles you wouldn’t get on a normal UI, however. Some windows on the supercomputer monitor appeared to show static graphics and statistics for the thugs I’d come across, while others seemed to be live feeds of them going about their various programmed behaviors. Gliding along their rails. There were only four that I could see.

  “Is this all of them, or just the ones formerly under my Influence?” I asked.

  “These are all of the ones you Influenced, General. Those you do not see here were killed by Scale in the struggle on the beach.”