The Game

by Terry Schott

  Chapter 17

  It’s impossible to directly influence the Game. The workings of the Game are so complex and interwoven that it would be like trying to find a specific grain of sand on the beaches of the world. Even a supercomputer wouldn’t be able to do that quickly enough to make any difference. If we wanted to make a precise and specific change tomorrow, or next week, or even 100 years from now on Earth, by the time all the computations and variables were factored in, the date would have passed. And what difference could a small change really make? Using this same analogy, if you did find that one grain of sand, made it into a tiny bomb, then placed it back on the beach to explode… no one would see or hear the explosion. No, the only things that the Games Masters have had any success at is programming large things such as weather patterns to ensure minimal droughts or floods, tidal patterns to make certain the Moon doesn’t affect the Earth too much, and underwater currents to help prevent the Earth from becoming too hot or too cold. Communication with avatars? No, that also is quite impossible. It would take more than even Mainframe to achieve that. To be completely honest, it’s not something we’ve looked at trying. The purpose of the Game is for students to forget this life and learn with a blank slate. What would the point be for us to try and communicate with them? It would be too much for them to handle and completely ruin their chance to learn from their play. Knowledge is gained along the way on the journey; it’s not all sitting on the finish line.

  World feed interview with ‘Foundation’ - Lead Games Master in year 23 of the Game.

  Greg Wassler was nervous. No matter how many times he sat in this room, waiting to meet the boss, he felt both thrilled and nervous. Today it was mostly nervous.

  The room was dark and silent, three columns of bright light from the ceiling displaying the boss’s desk, the door to the office, and the visitors’ chair which Greg was sitting in. The darkness was heavy. Greg was thirty levels below ground under the VirtDyne building, and he could feel the tons of concrete pressing down on him. Sitting up straighter, he scolded himself for being apprehensive. Games Masters shouldn’t be jumpy and nervous.

  Thinking back seven years into the past made him smile proudly. Greg had been an excellent player of the Game, excelling at computer skills and development during his lifetimes of play. When he was invited to apply for Games Master, he jumped at the chance. There were tens of thousands of programmers, all working hard to stand out enough to someday be considered for one of the coveted twelve Games Master positions. It was unheard of for a fresh graduate from the Game to be considered.

  Greg soon found himself competing against 12 other graduates, for not one of the twelve positions, but for a top secret thirteenth position. Games Masters all had titles that they took for their names when they accepted the position. Greg had fought hard and fierce to beat all of his competitors and earn the title of ‘Hack,’ the thirteenth secret Games Master, known only by a select and elite few on Tygon. Knowing that he technically didn’t exist had disappointed Greg at first, but as he began to work in his new position, he learned that it was wise for no one to know what he was doing. For the past seven years, he’d been working on a project started decades earlier by his predecessors; an impossible project that Greg Wassler had just successfully completed.

  Hack had been waiting for his boss for some time, but he was patient. This was the first time Hack had called the meeting. He knew it would be worth the wait to see his superior’s surprise.

  A voice from behind the desk startled Hack out of his thoughts. The chair turned and the boss was sitting there, a pleased smile on his face. “So, Hack, you’ve succeeded. It’s ready?”

  “Yes, Mr. Strayne. It’s ready.”

  Brandon was visibly excited. He’d been waiting thirty years to hear this news. Many times he’d given up hope that he ever would. The timing, although long overdue, was perfect. “Tell me how it works,” he said.

  “It’s very simple,” Hack said. “You walk into the room, put the helmet on, and place your hands in the provided slots. Then relax and count backwards from ten. Before you reach ten, you’ll be Firsting your target, live. Then, you wait for the right moment and interrupt their self-narration.”

  Brandon just sat there silently. Hack looked back at him calmly; he knew the question that needed confirmation.

  “So I can directly communicate with an avatar?” Brandon asked.

  Hack smiled widely. “Yes, sir.”

  “And I don’t have to be put into a coma to achieve this?”

  “Not at all, sir,” Hack assured him.

  “Incredibly well done, Hack.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “How many avatars have you tested it with?” Brandon asked.

  “Twelve avatars all tested successfully, Mr. Strayne. Different ages and class levels in the Game. I’m certain you can do it with any avatar.”

  “And Mainframe? Did it detect you?”

  “Not that I can tell. But that doesn’t mean no for sure. I advise keeping the conversation low, and limited to not too many avatars. The more you do it the more ‘noise’ you make, which increases the likelihood of detection.”

  Brandon nodded. “I will keep that in mind.”

  “There is one serious issue that needs to be remembered,” Hack said. “If anyone is Firsting the targeted avatar, or watching them on the viewers, they will hear you as well. Detection by fans is your biggest danger.”

  “Yes, but we’ve thought of that. No one watches an avatar when they are meditating, right?”

  “Correct. For decades, when avatars meditate or pray, we’ve scrambled the signals so no viewer can have access. Even when Firsting an avatar these two times are inaccessible,” Hack said.

  Brandon smiled. “Perfect. What did you do about the test avatars? They knew they were spoken to, and not while meditating I assume?” Hack nodded. “So anyone following them could put it together.”

  “They weren’t popular avatars, sir, and they all met with unfortunate accidents. I’ve been monitoring every mention of them from viewers; we are clear. Even if someone did notice, who would believe them? The truth for thirty years has been that no one can communicate inside the Game from the outside. If a fan claimed it was possible, they’d be labelled conspiracy theorists.”

  Brandon nodded. “Since you succeeded, we both know what must happen now.”

  Hack nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Greg.” Brandon said.

  Hack shrugged. “I agreed to the terms when I came on board, sir. If I succeeded, I’d have to ‘disappear’ in order to make sure there was no chance of me sharing the secret. There’s a price for knowledge, and it’s a price Greg Wassler agreed to pay willingly for the opportunity to become Hack.”

  Brandon nodded. “Okay then, Hack. Greg Wassler officially dies at age 25. You can’t see anyone from your old life ever again. It won’t be all bad. It’s a big world, and I reward loyalty.”

  Hack smiled. “I haven’t really had a life in seven years anyway, Mr. Strayne. May I ask one very personal question?”

  “Of course.”

  “What are you going to do with this ability to talk directly to avatars?”

  Brandon smiled. “I’m going to become a God.”