by Rachel Ford
The other man laughed nervously. “Well, uh, the update worked.”
He blinked. Something about the laugh had made him hesitate. But this was good news. Wasn’t it? “Great. So, I can go home?”
Avery cleared his throat. “Well, umm…see, the thing is Jack…well, we might have been overly optimistic on that front.”
“You may have been?”
“You understand, we were basing that on our knowledge of the facts at the time. So –”
Jack waved the excuses away. “Wait, wait, wait. Am I getting out or not?”
Avery hesitated. “You are getting out.”
He breathed another sigh of relief. “Jesus, Callaghan. That’s the part you should have led with.”
“There were complications, Jack. You will be getting out. But – not right away.”
He blinked. “What do you mean? I thought you said the update worked?”
“It did. But – and this is the kicker – your game files were in use. Because you’re stuck in the game.”
“Okay. And?”
“So we can’t update them. I mean, the update’s on the disc. But it can’t take effect yet.”
“Then when?”
Avery sighed. “Not until you’re out of there.”
Jack blinked. “But…I can’t get out of here without the update, Avery.”
“Yeah.”
He sank to the sandy beach. It felt hot against his palms. “Are you saying…I’m stuck here?”
“No. No, of course not, Jack. There’s a bunch of options we still have open to us.”
Jack swallowed. “Okay. Like what?”
“Well, our nuclear option is to reset the entire system. Force a restart. That’ll make the update take.”
Jack felt his skin crawl. “What happens to me, though? I mean, if you restart it while my brain’s hooked up to everything?”
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?”
He laughed. Not a mirthful laugh, a kind of hollow, astonished laugh. “You’re supposed to be the one who can answer those kinds of questions, Avery. Not me. I’m just a beta tester.”
“I know. Believe me, Jack, we’re not trying to put this on you. But we don’t know what the effects of a restart on an active participant will be. We’ve never tried. Never successfully, anyway.”
Jack frowned. “Wait, what does that mean? You’ve never done it? Or you have, without success?”
Avery hemmed and hawed for a minute. “Not in this version of the hardware/software interface, we haven’t tried it at all.”
“But you did with an earlier version?”
Another period of hemming and hawing ensued, but with a few more pointed questions, Jack got the truth out of him. “Several versions back, yes. Not on purpose. And it didn’t turn out well.”
“How unwell are we talking?”
“Scrambled brain unwell. Big, expensive settlements unwell. The kind of unwell Marshfield Studio isn’t looking to repeat.” Avery smiled. Jack couldn’t see him, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “Which, of course, pales in comparison to our real concern: that’s you, Jack.”
Jack frowned. His BS meter was blaring off the charts right now. But he stayed on track. “So since neither of us want to scramble my brain, what are our other options?”
“Well, our most straightforward one is actually one I think you’ll like.”
Jack’s expression eased. “Oh?”
“You’re stuck in the game because you haven’t completed your mission yet. Our simulations show a ninety-nine-point-eight-five percent likelihood that getting you out of there will be as simple as finishing the game.”
Jack didn’t like it, not one bit. And Avery was sympathetic, within reason. His good will ebbed somewhat when Jack brought up lawsuits and lawyers. Then Avery Callaghan started to bring up NDA’s and risk waivers, contracts signed and assurances given. He started to drop terms like “breach of contract” and “protected intellectual property.”
But it was always done with that same faux smile in his voice, and an apologetic air to his tone, like it was a painful duty to remind Jack that they had him by the testicles. A duty he nonetheless saw to, with ruthless efficiency.
In the end, Jack gave up the threats. He didn’t know if he was really bound by all the things Avery Callaghan claimed. He’d signed most of it without reading it. But even if he had more leeway, he was stuck in a machine. This man could cook his brain at the push of a button. Pissing him off really wasn’t in his best interests.
So he said, “I just want to go home, Avery.”
“I know, Jack. Believe me, I know. I wish you could, right now – this instant. You can believe me on that, too.”
He almost did. There was something so genuine, so profoundly sympathetic, in the other man’s tone that not even anger could overlook it entirely.
“I know this is not ideal. It – well, it downright stinks. But we have a surefire way to get you out.”
“It’s not surefire. There’s a point one-five percent chance it won’t work.”
“Statistically irrelevant.”
“You’re not the one whose brain is on the line.”
“No.” Avery sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, Jack. Really. But we believe this will work. We are certain of it.
“And I know businesses say this kind of thing all the time. But I mean it: you are part of our family. Your suffering is our suffering.”
Jack resisted the urge to point out that he was still the one stuck in the machine. He said nothing instead, and Avery went on.
“We are going to be working nonstop to see if there’s some other way to get you out of there. But in the meantime, we need you to do your part, Jack. We need you to play the game through, so you can come back to us. Okay?
“You’re our most accomplished tester. No one on our team has stats like you do. We are proud to have you as a part of the Marshfield Studio family.
“But it’s not just what you bring with you. You are one of us. We are all rooting for you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Avery got off the line, and the game sprang back to life. A strong, salty sea breeze wafted inland. Jack barely noticed it.
He just stood there, staring out into the black sea and the gray and pink horizon. He was stunned. He felt a mix of competing emotions – anger, fear, confusion, sadness. He’d lost track of the time in the real world. He didn’t even know how long he’d been in the game. He wondered if he’d ever get out again, if he’d ever see his apartment, or his clients, or his D&D buddies.
He wondered if he’d die in this game, trapped and shriveled and hooked up to feeding tubes.
He wanted to weep and scream all at once. He considered heading down to the shoreline just to take his frustration out against the sea snakes, even if he did take damage in the process. He figured he wouldn’t need any weapons. His bare knuckles would do the trick.
“Jack? You doing okay?” a voice sounded beside him.
It was Migli, and he managed to strangle the cry before it escaped his lips. “Uh. Yeah, fine. Who is this?”
“It’s Jordan.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Hi Jordan. I suppose you heard the news?”
“Yeah. I actually came in early. Avery figured it’d be better. You know, since Richard’s an intern.”
“Great. So he sent me a babysitter? I’m fine.”
“No, it’s not…he just wanted you to have whatever resources you needed, you know? And Richard’s only been with us for a couple of months. I’ve been here for years, so maybe I can be of more use.”
He snorted. “You know how to get me out of here?”
“No. I’m sorry, Jack.”
“Then you’re of no use.”
Migli sighed. It wasn’t an annoyed sound, but rather a sad one. “I’m sorry.”
“And yet, I’m still stuck here.”
“I know. Look, maybe you should take a nap, Jack. You’ve been awake for a long t
ime.”
“What?” He snorted. “That’ll make me feel better? Or you figure your shift will be over so you won’t have to deal with me? Then I can be the intern’s problem, I guess.”
“I’m not trying to get rid of you. It’s just, your heart rate is all over the place. Your stress levels are really high.”
“You think? Wow, I wonder why that would be. Maybe because I’m stuck a in gall darned machine, hooked up to a bunch of tubes like some kind of bleeping science experiment gone wrong?”
“I know you’re upset, Jack, but –”
“Upset?” He spit the word out, laughing almost hysterically at the sheer understatement. “Upset, Jordan? I am stuck in a videogame. Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time. I am stuck in a bleeping videogame.
“I am stuck in a buggy videogame, where people randomly break into terrible Old English, or fake pirate accents.
“I am stuck in a videogame where a bleeping bluebird went off like a nuclear bomb.
“I’m stuck in a videogame chasing some dumb MacGuffin.
“I’m stuck in a videogame with my only companion being a…a…a slutty dwarf!”
Migli stood there for a long moment, then laughed. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry, Jack. I’m not laughing about – it’s just, what you said about Migli.”
He glared at the laughing, apologetic dwarf for a long moment.
“I’m really sorry.”
“You should be. What the heather were they thinking, anyway? I’ve never met such a useless companion. Who thinks the player wants a sidekick whose defining attribute is being a…a…”
“A slutty dwarf?”
“A cowardly slutty dwarf,” he agreed. Then, he laughed too. It was kind of funny. “I guess those are words I never thought I’d say together.”
Migli snort-giggled. “No.”
Jack sank down, still laughing, and buried his head in his hands. “God. I’m scared, Jordan.”
Migli wrapped an arm around him. They were both laughing, but Jack felt more like crying. “I know, Jack. The thing is – I know it’s probably cold comfort. But the reason you’re still in there is because they are being so careful. If they weren’t, we could push that restart, and you’d be out.
“But there’s more risk there. So – and I know the delay isn’t what you want – as scary as this seems, this is actually the safe bet. No matter what, you’re not going to be at risk.”
“There’s still a risk,” he reminded the dwarf. “Point-one-five percent.”
“That’s a risk that you’ll be stuck in the system when the game ends – not that you’ll be hurt.
“Other than wasted time, there’s no risk of harm to you at all this way. That’s why they’re trying this first. Because you almost certainly will wake up, but even if you don’t, well, then we can push the update. There’s no risk in waiting.”
Jack thought it over for a long moment. He stopped laughing. He felt a little less like crying. “I think I need to sleep.”
Migli nodded. “You should. It’ll be good for you. And, if you like, I can stay here with you. I mean, I am in the room, but in the game too. If you don’t want to be alone, I mean.”
He considered. “I hope they’re paying you enough, Jordan. You’re pretty good at your job.”
“They’re not. But I’ll do it anyway.”
He smiled. “You’re a lot better than the real Migli, you know that?”
Jack slept for a long time. Jordan was still there when he got up, and the Migli avatar smiled at him. “Hey. Perfect timing. My shift is actually ending in about ten minutes. Richard’s going to be taking over.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“How are you doing?”
He yawned. “Fine, I guess. Just wish I had some coffee.”
Migli glanced around. At first, Jack didn’t know what was going on. Then, he realized Jordan must have been glancing around his office, with his headset on. “Alright,” the dwarf said in low tones. “Don’t tell anyone I did this…but…”
A cup of coffee materialized in Jack’s hands. The aroma hit his nostrils a second later – fierce and beautiful, like a good dark roast should be. He blinked. “Wow. You can just…conjure stuff up?”
Migli shrugged. “If it’s something we’ve programmed into the game, sure.”
“So…you could theoretically get me better armor or something?”
The dwarf laughed. “Don’t push your luck. You want cream or sugar with that?”
Jack shook his head. Usually, he would have dumped sugar into it. But right now, he just wanted to savor the flavor. And he did, one sip at a time. “God, this is good.”
Migli laughed. “You have no idea how much time the dev team wasted on getting the coffee right. All the food, but the coffee in particular.”
He shrugged. “It’s basically the lifeblood of programming.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
He finished his coffee. “Thanks, Jordan. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” The cup vanished, and in its place, he found himself holding a plate stacked high with pancakes and butter and maple syrup. “And here: breakfast, on the house.”
His stomach growled. They smelled incredible, and he told Jordan so. “But you’re not going to get in trouble, are you? I mean, for interfering with the game or whatever?”
Migli shrugged. “Eh, considering – well, everything lately – I figure this is a justified intervention. I’m pretty sure Avery will agree that our test results will end up skewed if they come from a place of angst.”
He grinned. “Good point.” Then he dug into the food. The pancakes tasted as good as they looked – and they looked amazing. He ate about half of them – probably three or four pancakes total – and then groaned. “I think I hit my limit.”
“Stash it in your inventory. They’ll keep warm for later.”
He nodded. “Good idea. But hey, you programmed pancakes in? Where?”
“It’s DLC, actually. Part of the main code base, but you’ll have to buy the diner DLC to get it.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. Downloadable content – DLC – was a standard tactic employed by game studios to fleece gamers: release the game for one price, and then squeeze an endless stream of money out of the players with endless content add-ons. He had himself forked over thousands for DLC over the years.
Did he need to build coffee shops in post-apocalyptic hellscapes, or bring his favorite motorcycle to the moon, or own every breed of dog available? Did he need Halloween décor, or dozens of weird armor suits, or new skins for his guns in every game? For that matter, did he need all the heavy, after-release firepower?
Yes and no. No, in the most technical sense that he didn’t ever need it. Yes, in that it made his gameplay worlds more enjoyable. Nothing quite beat running around killing Nazis as Pennywise or strolling through intro levels with boss firepower. Incongruous and silly? Of course. That was the point.
And there was plenty of DLC that wasn’t silly. He had added on levels and whole new sections of his favorite worlds. He’d explored new dungeons and devoted hours to expanded maps. As much as DLC turned a game into an endless cash cow for the studio, it also turned it into an endless adventure for the player.
But usually the DLC came after the release. “Your game hasn’t even gone out yet.”
Migli nodded. “No. But we have dozens of DLC packages all ready to go. We’ll start pushing them within a few months of the release.”
“Geez.”
“Don’t judge, dude. It’s what funds our new projects.”
“I’m not judging. I mean, I’m kind of judging. But not really.”
“It’s a little bit of a racket,” Migli admitted. “But at least the steady cash flow means we don’t have layoffs every time there’s a fluctuation in the market.”
He nodded. “I mean, it makes sense.”
Migli started to say something, then cut off. “Ah. Richard’s in. Alright, I’m going to sign off Jack. Have a goo
d day, okay?”
“You too, Jordan.”
The dwarf froze for a minute, and then it sprang to life. “Hey Jack. Can you give me a minute?”
“Uh…sure.”
“Great, thanks.”
Migli stayed frozen in place, but he kept talking. At first, Jack stared in confusion. But the flow of words filled him in.
“You heading out now?”
Jack didn’t hear the other end of the conversation. Richard just went silent for a bit, then spoke again. “Right. Cool. Hey, I heard you handled yourself like a pro. You know, with the beta tester.
“Oh, right. For sure. Gotta be hard.
“Right. Yeah, I can’t imagine. For sure, a real tough dude.
“Well, anyway, you got plans? Ones that don’t involve coma patients I mean?” He laughed now, and Jack frowned. The other man’s dismissiveness – to say nothing of his word choice – didn’t sit quite right.
“Oh, yeah, me too. Way too tired to do anything when I get out of here.
“Right. Uh huh. Oh, right, I won’t keep you. You have a great day then, Jordan. Bye.”
Migli sighed and Jack rolled his eyes. And I thought I was a lousy flirt. The other man was hopeless. Even from a one-sided vantage of the conversation, he could tell Richard had struck out more than once.
“Richard?”
“Oh. Geez. Hey buddy. You scared me.” Richard laughed sheepishly. “Forgot you were on the other end here.”
“Wish I could.”
That seemed to nonplus the other man. “Oh. Right. I heard about – you know.”
“Me being stuck in a machine?”
“Yeah…that. Bummer.”
“Yeah.”
Richard was quiet for a minute. Then, he took on a cheerful tone. “Well, the good news is, you’re about to hit the really good part of the game.”
Jack snorted. “You mean, I finally get my hands on the MacGuffin?”
“The McMuffin? No, that’s only if you buy the McDonald’s DLC. And that doesn’t come out until October.”
“The MacGuffin. You know, the stupid dagger.”
Richard went absolutely silent for a minute.
“You do know what a MacGuffin is, don’t you?”