by K. T. Hanna
“Enough!” the queen snapped out, stomping her foot in a childish display of anger. “That’s enough of this. You’re not supposed to fight me, damn it. You’re supposed to help me.”
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Conference Room
Day Seventeen - Early Morning
Shayla resisted the urge to stand up and pace while they waited for Edward Davenport to make it to the meeting. He wasn’t late; they were just ten minutes early. Probably because their nerves were trying to strangle both of them. They’d opted to not even attempt hiding the fact that twelve players got caught in the system when it went down.
The more truth they went with, the fewer lies they had to remember when the time came. Skirting the truth only bought them so much leeway.
Laria sat on her left-hand side, with Silke having come in, and Brandon too. They both appeared disheveled and tired, if the bags under their eyes were anything to go by, and their own reports juxtaposed that appearance by being meticulous. Shayla had gone over both of them, and luckily enough their information didn’t contradict anything Laria and herself were going with. At least there were small mercies.
Teddy swept into the room, this time wearing a thigh length leather coat. Shayla wondered if he’d modeled himself on a vampire, but it didn’t seem to suit his style. The black of the coat worked well with his white shirt and black jeans. Not the everyday attire he usually wore, but then today wasn’t every day.
Two lawyers flanked him on each side, or at least, she assumed they were. He usually only walked around with a couple, but this was a serious matter. Maybe he’d opted on the side of caution. But her idle assumptions went by the wayside when the first of them spoke up.
“I’m Gregory Kest, Mr. Davenport’s social presence advisor, and I’ve brought Henry Cooper, my strategic analyst, with me to see what can be done about cleaning up this mess.” Gregory’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he seemed to look down on them as they stood to shake hands.
Shayla made a note to do all things necessary to avoid meeting this pompous ass again. Mr. Davenport shook her hand, just as friendly as always, and when he made eye contact she felt a wave off relief shoot through her. For now at least, it seemed her job was probably safe.
“Shayla, Laria, good to see you.” Davenport’s tone held warmth and welcome. He inclined his head to both Silke and Brandon. “Thank you for coming.”
Then he settled himself down at the head of the table, leaned back in the oversized office chair, and steepled his fingers. “We have a bit of a media shitstorm going on out there. I know hardware can fail, and I realize programming likes to think it’s an exact science but rarely is. So tell me, please. What the hell happened?”
Shayla hesitated, and Laria jumped in. Her voice was calm, collected, and confident when she spoke, even commanding her friend’s attention.
“From what we can gather, as you can see in these reports—” She stood up and pushed the reports over to the other side of the table, and Shayla was relieved to see she’d had the foresight to make enough for everyone. “One of the dungeons experienced a type of cascade failure. This caused it to re-develop itself in an effort to circumvent the algorithmic differentiations it was experiencing.
“A raid of twelve players entered said dungeon before it could alert us, and as the AI is programmed to, it began to search for solutions on its own. Sadly, as they progressed through said dungeon, the problems got worse, and it couldn’t reconcile its programing with its performance. After a short while, it chose to reboot itself in order to restore the original programming, effectively overwriting the problems it had experienced.”
Laria paused, indicating page five in the report that was plastered in front of everyone. “As you can see here, these fluctuations alerted us to the problem before hand, and it wasn’t something we could figure out how to fix. The twelve players didn’t come to any harm, however when the area shut down, they were effectively trapped in a safe way-station that the AI set up for them.”
A collective gasp traveled around the table, and Gregory opened his mouth to speak, but Davenport waved him down. “Let her finish.” His eyes sparkled as he rested them on Laria, his excitement showing.
“Thank you.” Laria returned the smile, if somewhat tightly. “Please understand that the AI did this to preserve and not harm the players. As their rigs were caught up in the actual problem and became an inherent part of it, they needed to isolate them so they could disentangle the cascade, so to speak. Think of Christmas lights that needed to be untangled so you could hang them up in the right way and not just like a ball of knots.”
Davenport chuckled, and crossed his arms, still enjoying the report if his grin was anything to go by.
“Disentangling them without first unplugging the chord, I guess is a further analogy, could have caused them dire harm.” Laria bit her lip and flipped through a couple of pages she’d just glossed over slightly. “When the game came back online, the players were retrieved, none the worse for wear, and they were able to log out and continue about their daily routines.”
Technically anyway, Shayla added silently to herself. She’d been impressed by Laria’s composure, but guessed it was the only way her friend was able to deal with only releasing the partial truth. Just enough to make it believable, not enough to expose Wren.
“Any questions?” Laria asked, and Shayla found it easy to tell she really hoped no one would take her up on that.
Gregory spoke up, and Shayla did her best not to cringe. “You’re telling us we had a dozen people stuck in the game for the duration of the shut down? How is that even possible?”
Laria smiled. It was a patient smile, like she was talking to someone who wouldn’t understand her language, and so she broke it down to make it easier for them. “The system is built with checks and balances, with infrastructure in place on how to handle a system malfunction. In this case, the system required that it reboot itself. Since there were people in the affected area who were in the way, yet intrinsically intertwined in the actual problem, they had to contain the issue and work it out while those people were present. Once the coding strings had been detangled, for want of a better phrase, those same people were no longer affected by the issue and able to go through the normal avenues of the game again.”
“Oh.” Shayla could see Gregory struggling to understand how it was the people were fine. “But where did they go?”
“That? Oh, the system has a sort of panic room I guess you’d call it, where they can place anyone into should it be necessary for maintaining the game’s integrity during repairs. It allows them access again when their assigned algorithms no longer conflict with the game’s. While the AIs figure out just what is wrong with the game itself, and how the player is interconnected, it makes it easier to separate them. Easier and faster.” She smiled, and Gregory frowned before he nodded.
“Sounds a little scary for the player. Should we warn of this?” He seemed very intent on letting people know, and while Laria had explained it very well and hadn’t completely lied, Shayla felt like Gregory was fishing for something else. She just wasn’t sure what.
“It’s in the EULA.” Laria kept smiling, but Shayla could see she was strained, so she stood up and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“Which we know technically no one reads, but it is contained within.” Shayla mirrored her designer’s expression, trying to seem as non-threatening and helpful as she could. “Now, what else do we need to cover?”
Davenport sighed. “Will this cover the press then, Gregory? Allow them to know that we have safety measures in progress to make sure players are safe during their time in Somnia?”
Gregory balked at first, seeming a little flustered as he glanced at his colleague and back to Teddy. “I think if I can get a statement to deliver to those enquir
ing media outlets, it would go a long way to reassuring the gamers.”
Davenport nodded in Laria’s direction. “Excellent then. Laria if you could prepare a statement that simplifies what you just told us, should we be pressed for it, that’d be great. Right, Gregory?”
Again, the media specialist seemed flummoxed, and Shayla couldn’t help but totally agree. Davenport was acting highly suspicious.
Laria nodded, and began to circle some stuff in her own copy of the report. Her eyes focused on her AR display, and her attention was diverted away from the meeting.
Davenport watched her with a smile playing at the corners of his lips and then turned his attention back to the whole table. “Now that’s out of the way, I want to make sure we have the detailed reports ready should analysts need them. I don’t think I have to say that we got lucky, or that I don’t want this to happen again. For games to go down in this day and age? It’s a bloody travesty, but this was short, and hopefully our last.”
Shayla nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Anything else, sir?”
He frowned. “I want to be informed immediately of anything like this. Anything at all. And those reports are still due tomorrow. I have investors to answer to as well as a community, and right now we can’t afford to run Somnia without either of them.”
Shayla nodded and stood up, noticing a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was behind the blinds that kept the conference room sheltered from outside interference. On the outside of it. Lurking. She knew without a shadow of doubt that it was James and that he definitely wasn’t working for Davenport.
Somnia Online
Hightower Castle
Version - Triggered 8.207 by Guild: Spiral
Day Seventeen
The lights inside the castle didn’t appear to be working. Karn eyed the darkness warily. Ever since the dwarf and its cat—tiger, whatever it was—had encountered them at the entrance she’d felt like they were being watched. Not in a creepy, stalker type of way, but in a more watching and waiting for them to make a mistake.
She still thought Risk’s response to the dwarf’s question had already landed them in hot water. Telling the giant dwarf that they were coming in to seek out the treasure whether Hightower liked it or not hadn’t seemed to go down well. In fact, the dwarf’s stomp against the ground and the feline’s growl had sent the ground quaking and shivers down her spine before they disappeared.
Now, in the darkness, she couldn’t tell if there were walls or paths ahead of them. All they had to light their way was a torch one of their mages had brought with them. Even engaging her rogue vision didn’t clear up the path. There was a scratching somewhere off to her left and it echoed through the hall, or empty chamber, setting her teeth on edge.
Three sets of mobs had ambushed them so far. In the flashes of light that illuminated the area brightly for an instant that was cast spells, she could see their razor teeth, their pale eyes, and feel their clammy skin as they tried to grip her and keep her still.
Rogues were tricky, though. Karn prided herself on being an amazing rogue. Until Jirald that is.
She scowled as the picked their way gingerly through the darkness. With the doors closed behind them, there wasn’t an obvious way out of the area right now. Frankly, she didn’t even understand what they were supposed to do. Her quest was vague as hell.
Seek out the secret of Hightower and find the treasure within.
Vague. Like everything. Like that other damned rogue’s ability. She didn’t even recall seeing something that potent in any of the lines she’d opened up. As a completionist, she pursued every line she could find. But that damned dissipating ability that allowed him to vanish and reappear, it wasn’t a normal stealth. No one on the forums, no one in the chats—just no one seemed to know anything about it.
How the hell did she get her hands on that overpowered skill? It didn’t matter how good she was at her class, she’d always come in second to someone who had an almost cheat ability. She scowled, wondering if perhaps that was fair. Maybe he was just that good.
“Karn?” Risk’s sarcastic tone brought her out of her inner thoughts.
“What?” She glared at him, even though it was wasted because of the dark.
“Glad you could join us. We’re having Irin scout out ahead. He’s our only feles and has better night vision. Stay alert.” Risk’s attention waned from her as he turned to speak to someone else. At least it felt like he turned away—she couldn’t really say.
A faint light began to glow off in the direction Irin had moved. Karn had to consciously stop herself from holding her breath as the light made its way toward them all.
As it moved closer, she could make out the holder, walking side by side with Irin, their ranger. She was tall and beautiful, her pale fur short and well-kept. She wore a long white robe, and her ears twitched in time with her nose, the whiskers moving almost hypnotically.
“Who are you?” Risk stood, his arms crossed and his usual gruffness at the fore. He wasn’t a bad person, just very focused.
The new feles raised an eyebrow. “I am Riasli.”
Suddenly Karn felt better. Less worried about the darkness, and more excited to delve into it. Like all her fears had been washed away by the arrival of the newcomer. The light definitely helped. Karn had never been fond of the dark.
“Riasli.” Risk tasted the word on his tongue, his tone full of curiosity. “What news do you have for us?”
“News?” Riasli inclined her head. “Nothing so trivial. No, I have an offer for you.”
Risk didn’t say a word; he simply tapped his foot and maintained eye contact with the feles.
“Ah,” Riasli smiled, and Karn wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, but the expression seemed positively wicked. “I have a proposition that might make it easier for you to catch your prey.”
The thing was, Karn had known Risk for a while and he didn’t take kindly to people who minced words. Probably why he had so much respect for that cleric who led the Exodus guild. Short and to the point, that was Risk. At least you always knew where you stood with him.
“Long story short. We have a dungeon to beat.” His words were clipped, impatience leaking through.
Riasli stared at him, pursed her lips, and almost visibly swelled irritation. “You want to be the top guild on the server, and I can help with that.”
She hesitated for a moment, but seemed to realize that Risk wasn’t about to comment further until she explained herself, and continued. “For my own reasons, I would prefer to see a different guild at the top of the world. If you’re willing to assist me when the time comes, I can make it worth your while.”
“How so?” Risk ground out the words, his patience even thinner.
“Treasure, riches, gear,” She smiled persuasively at the last, reacting to Risk’s almost imperceptible interest. “If you want to be the best guild in Somnia, then you need to defeat this dungeon. When you do, there will be two chests. One will hold the key you seek, and the other the key to being the best guild in this world.”
“What do you mean?” Risk didn’t like riddles. Probably why they were stuck in the pitch-black castle.
“Fable aren’t on the track they were intended to follow. Adjustments must be made, and I’m willing to help with that if you are.” Riasli’s grin held a breath of malevolence. Karn shivered.
“Fine. How will it help us?” Risk pushed the point, the irritation in his voice overwhelming the friendliness.
“That is something you will have to find out. Defeat the dungeon. You won’t be disappointed.”
With that, Riasli disappeared, taking her dim light with her and plunging them all into darkness.
“Help you?” Sinister voiced the incredulousness they all felt, her tone flat with disbelief. “Why in Somnia would we help you?”
Arita glared at
the blood mage, and the stun finally dropped, but Fable didn’t attack and instead stood on guard, ready to do so at a moment’s notice. The queen’s brow pinched, and she seemed to be fighting some type of urge if the way her hands shook was anything to go by.
On instinct, Murmur reached out and covered Arita with her Shield Extension. Not entirely certain why, she watched intently to see if there was a change. The shaking ceased immediately, and the queen looked over at Murmur with a grateful smile.
“Thank you.”
She stumbled slightly, and ended up sitting unceremoniously on one of the chests that littered the hall. Murmur watched her, waiting for the penny to drop, for everything to click into place, because this was being too weird.
She wasn’t the only one waiting either. If the feelings her friends were exuding were a hint, they were even more confused than she was. The unexpected thing being that Arita was confused as well. Her head was a mass of fuzziness.
About to speak, Havoc beat her to it, and Murmur stifled the irritation rising in her.
“Answer. Why would we help you?” His words held sternness to them she’d not heard before. The waves of anger that leaked off him, through her shield even, surprising her.
Arita lifted her eyes to meet Havoc’s, and Murmur suppressed a gasp. All she saw there was confusion and desperation. Such human emotions that they hit her in the gut. Unexpected and unwanted. She watched as the dark elf queen made to speak a couple of times, but she frowned and then sighed before actually managing to get a word out.
“There’s something wrong with me.” She frowned, only just managing to squeeze the statement out. “I’m not quite what I was when you last visited, and even then, I wasn’t quite what I was supposed to be.”
“Are you Emilarth’s?” Murmur asked suddenly, almost certain of the answer already.