I climb inside the immaculate interior with white leather seats. A hologram with the destination and route floats above my head. Now that I think about it, I should have requested an older pod. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb traveling through The Boxes in this thing.
“Welcome, Esil. Please equip your safety belt and we will be off shortly. Your route and destination are displayed on the hologram in front of you. The display can be changed to provide entertainment at your request.” The strangely human, yet somehow still robotic voice tells me of the newest entertainment options, but I decline.
I want silence for the ride to gather my thoughts. The door closes and I strap on my seatbelt. For a moment, my stomach churns as the pod rises high into the sky. I glance out the window. The people on the ground are so small that they look like toy figures as they walk around.
“We have reached sufficient altitude. You are free to remove your safety belt,” the digitized voice informs me.
I elect to keep it on. After what happened to my parents, I don’t know if I will ever fully trust one of the pods, no matter how advanced they may be. Today’s pods travel higher above the ground than the one that killed my parents, but that doesn’t make me feel any safer. It just means I have further to fall if something malfunctions. My entire life is the result of one malfunction, and I have too many people counting on me to risk my safety.
A panel in the wall opens and a package wrapped in cellophane emerges.
“Due to the location of your destination, you will need to wear a hazmat suit upon exiting the vehicle. Privacy glass can be toggled on and off at your discretion.”
I take the package and unwrap the plastic to find a gray suit and facemask. I haven’t had to wear one of these since moving to headquarters but anytime someone steps out of their home in The Boxes, these are a requirement. The radiation is so toxic that those living on the streets suffer from a slew of deformities. Being homeless in The Boxes is a death sentence. Even though the pod will be docking directly with the orphanage, the precautions are still a requirement to move into the sanitation chamber.
We pass over my old neighborhood in Civic City. It isn’t as bad as The Boxes. The residents there can wear normal clothing, but a filtering facemask and long sleeves are still required to avoid sickness while walking the streets.
Most of the kids I’m about to meet have probably never even left the orphanage since they moved in. Everything from food to clothing is delivered via drone. They go to school inside of Pangea and have access to a handful of beginner worlds thanks to Benjamin. But most of Pangea is still off limits to them.
They have it better than I did, though. Before I started beta testing, those in The Boxes only had access to the educational worlds and the internet. Or the mines if they were old enough.
I put the hazmat suit on over my clothes and strap myself back in. Thirty minutes later, the pod descends toward The Boxes. My chest grows tight as the wasteland of shipping containers comes into view.
Row after row of boxes, a sea of gray structures and blinking lights as drones navigate the toxic atmosphere. Even at this hour, the skies are dark and gray. After all these years, how are people still living here when there is so much empty space around Pangea Headquarters?
It’s not fair for anyone to be born into this.
As the pod descends, I equip my mask and press the button on the side. It suctions against my face and begins filtering my every breath. The pod docks with the entrance to the orphanage and the door opens with a hiss of air.
I step into the entryway and steam fills the room, sanitizing me before I can enter. When the steam fades, the door into the orphanage opens.
The orphanage is what I would call a mega box. Four or five boxes converted into one building capable of housing a multitude of parentless children.
Mr. Green waits for me with a smile. He has run the orphanage for years. His head is balding down the center, and two white clouds of hair surround both sides. I remember him as a stern man, but maybe that’s just because I was a child. The man before me doesn’t seem very threatening or harsh. He was always a stickler for the rules, and swift with justice to those who would break them.
“Welcome back, Esil. We’re so excited to have you. If you want to follow me this way, the kids are waiting.”
As he leads me through the orphanage, it’s just as run down as ever. Some of the monitors have cracks in them, and cobwebs coat many of the corners. I remember the spiders here vividly. The way their glowing red eyes would stare out at me from the darkness as I lay in bed. They too sought protection from the radiation outside.
Nearly two dozen kids sit cross-legged on the floor of the entertainment room. They range in age from six or seven all the way to near adults. I recognize about half of them from my time here, though I don’t recall many of their names. Back then, I was a loner. I kept to myself and found solace watching streams on the internet during my down time. A small redheaded girl holds an action figure with a missing arm. I think her name was Katy. A pair of teenagers in the back look as if their days at the orphanage are almost over. Then it’ll be off to the mines for them.
Half of the kids wear their headsets, the optics covering their eyes as they play or learn in one of Pangea’s game worlds. No haptic suits for any of them, though. The orphanage can’t afford anything that nice.
Pangea provides the headsets. They promised no student would ever be denied access to knowledge, but that is the extent of their generosity. Until they turn eighteen and receive their very own Box and haptic suit so that they can live and die in the mines.
“Alright, kids.” Mr. Green gathers their attention, and the children remove their headsets. “We have a very special guest today. He used to live and play in this very room. He won the first ever Developer’s Tournament. Now he’s working on some top-secret project at Pangea Headquarters. Here’s the man of the hour, Esil Allen.”
The kids look at me with astonishment. Several grin, a few have their mouths hanging open. I’m not sure if it’s because of who I am or because they don’t get visitors. Either way, they sit in silence.
I don’t blame them. I would have done the same thing when I lived here.
“That’s no way to treat our special guest. Show him a warm welcome.” Mr. Green claps, and the children join in.
Now, I feel more awkward than ever. What are they even clapping for?
“Uh, thanks for having me. Like Mr. Green said, I grew up in these very rooms. I know what it’s like to grow up with noth—” I catch myself before I finish. The last thing these kids need is a reminder of how little they have. “Are you all enjoying the new worlds you have access to?”
Several nods, but no one answers. I get it. Even though I used to live here, I’m just a stranger to them now. More of an urban legend than a real person.
“Did any of you watch last year’s Developer’s Tournament?”
They sit up straight at the mention of the tournament and I get more enthusiastic nods this time. One kid even speaks up. “I did.”
I focus on the kid who spoke up. He’s probably ten or eleven. “What did you think about it?”
His eyes light up with excitement. “It was so awesome. The zombies, and all the contestants, and the race, and the maze. And that crazy death knight! It was so cool!”
I grin at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, it was pretty awesome. What about the rest of you? Did you have any favorite parts?”
I go around the room, calling on children as they tell me all the things they loved about the tournament. Everyone has their turn to speak, everyone except for one of the older kids in the back. He sits with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Shaggy black hair nearly covers his eyes.
I nod to him. “What’s your name?”
“Dean,” he mumbles.
“Well, Dean, did you watch the tournament?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And what?” He leans back against
the wall. This kid definitely has a chip on his shoulder.
“What did you think?”
He changes the subject. “I know why you’re here.”
That’s funny, because I don’t even know why I’m really here. “And why’s that?”
He uncrosses his arms and leans forward. “You’re here to tell us that the world isn’t so bad. That if you can make it, then we all can. You’re trying to give us hope that our lives won’t be as monotonous and as dull as every other person who lives in The Boxes. You’ll feel good about your good deed and then go back to your fancy life at Pangea Headquarters. And in a year, I’ll be working at the mines.”
The room sits in a shocked silence as their eyes dart between me and Dean.
Mr. Green finally breaks the silence. “Dean, that is enough. Go to your room.”
Dean starts to stand, but I turn to Mr. Green. “No, it’s okay. Let him stay.”
Mr. Green gives me a questioning look, but he nods. “Okay.”
I lock eyes with Dean. Fury and passion burns within him. More passion than I ever had living here.
“You’re not completely wrong, Dean. But you’re also not completely right either. I don’t know why I came, other than the fact that Mr. Green asked me to. I spent the past week stressing over what I would say to you all. I have a lot of bad memories living in this place. I’m sure you all do. It’s hard growing up without a family.”
Dean sits back down. I start to pace, trying to find the words, and all eyes follow my every movement.
“I used to believe that it was luck that got me out of The Boxes. Luck that I found the Developer’s Chest. Luck that I made it through each stage of the tournament. Luck that I finally found out who my parents were and the gift from my father that came from that knowledge.” I stop pacing and stand before them, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Yeah, I was lucky. But it took a lot more than luck. It took grit and drive and desire to turn that luck into action. It took friendship, too. More than anything, it was my choices that got me to where I am. I doubt I could have won the tournament if I hadn’t been from The Boxes.”
Something Aleesia said long ago flashes across my mind. She said I can’t help everyone, so I should focus on the ones that I can.
“So no, I didn’t come here to give you hope. I came here to help you. To give you choices so that you can make your own future.” I had no idea where I was going with this speech before I got here, but an idea finally comes to me. Now that I’ve acquired my family’s stocks in Pangea, I have more money than I know what to do with. “I’ll be buying you all haptic suits, so that you can fully experience what Pangea is really like. For those of you fifteen and over, you’ll be given a Premium Worldpass. This is contingent on keeping your grades up each semester. Anything less than a B and you’ll be stuck to the free worlds until the next semester. I can’t promise you a great life, but I can give you the tools so that if you want to find a way out of The Boxes, the only thing stopping you is you.”
Some of the younger kids whisper to one another. I’m sure they are wondering if this is some sort of trick.
“I’ll also be hiring someone to come and clean this place. You’ll finally be able to sleep at night without spiders keeping you company.”
There are several hoots and clapping at that.
“That is very generous of you, Esil. You have no idea the difference this will make in their lives.” Mr. Green turns to the kids. “What do you say we all say thank you to Esil.”
“Thank you, Esil,” they all say in unison.
The room seems more at ease now, so I spend the next half hour answering questions about the tournament and my life outside of The Boxes.
“Alright, I’ve got time for one more question. What’s it going to be?”
Several hands shoot up. For the first time since I started answering questions, Dean has his hand up.
“Dean.”
He brushes the shaggy hair away from his eyes before speaking. There’s less contempt in his voice this time. “Are you going to be entering the Pro-Am Tournament next month?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure what it is, but I can safely say my tournament days are behind me. I’ll place the order for your new suits and have the Worldpasses ready as soon as I—”
Dean cuts me off. “It’s a new tournament Pangea is putting together, where a winner from a previous tournament has the opportunity to coach someone who has never competed. I was wondering if you had found someone to mentor yet.”
“Like I said, my days of competing are over.”
Dean nods, but I can see the disappointment on his face.
I have zero desire to be in the public eye again. Besides, what I do in the Broken Lands is more important. “Thanks for having me.”
Chapter Five
The first thing I do upon arriving home is order the new haptic suits and Worldpasses for the orphanage. I pay extra for expedited shipping so that they will be delivered by drone before the day is over.
I don’t know why I do it, but I check my messages and search for the Pro-Am Tournament Dean was talking about. Once I find the announcement, I notice it’s been nearly a month since the contest was announced.
Greetings, Esil! As a winner of Pangea Online Developer’s Tournament, you have been invited to become a mentor in our newest tournament designed to pair the great adventurers of the past with the promising talent of the future. In Pangea Online’s Pro-Am Tournament, each contestant will be paired with a champion from a previous tournament. The winner will receive a full scholarship to the online college of their choosing, as well as the opportunity to intern at Pangea Online Headquarters. For previous champions, the winner will have a sizable donation made to their preferred charity in their honor. Please respond if you are interested in being a mentor.
Thank you for everything you have brought to Pangea Online, and as always, never stop leveling!
-Pangea Online Developers
Interesting. It’s for a good cause, and I already know where I’d donate the money, but even if I wanted to, I’m not sure I could fit in a full-time training regimen on top of my responsibilities with testing the Broken Lands. Truth be told, I have no desire to be a mentor. I still remember the nasty messages and spotlight of attention from the last tournament. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all myself—again.
I close out the message and head toward the headquarters. Maybe I can help Buzz and Grayson train the new recruits in Carolton.
The door to Benjamin’s office is open, so I step inside. He stares at a tablet, deep in thought, and doesn’t notice me as I enter. The man radiates success with his immaculately-tailored black suit and neatly-parted blond hair. There’s not a strand out of place. He shakes his head and sighs before setting the tablet on his desk.
Something is up. I clear my throat and his eyes go wide when he notices me standing in the door frame.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
His surprise turns into a frown. “Shut the door and have a seat. There’s something I want to tell you.”
For some reason, my heart starts racing. Whatever he’s about to tell me, it can’t be good.
I take a seat. “What’s going on?”
Benjamin runs his hand through his hair, setting it askew. “They’re shutting it down.”
My heart jumps into my throat and for a moment, I can’t speak. “Shutting what down?” I ask the question even though I already know the answer.
“Testing. The board thinks I’m too close because of my mom. They think I’m distracted and want me to focus on business.” He leans back against the tall leather back of the chair. “It’s a bunch of crock.”
I look down and notice my hands are shaking. How could they do this? And what happens to the beta testers? All those people from The Boxes that I promised a job and a new life. What happens to Buzz and Grayson?
I take a deep breath and try to find my words. “So what does that mean?”
He
intertwines his hands together and leans forward. “They’re off-shooting the research to another lab. A less invasive form of full-immersion is going to be integrated into Pangea with The Broken Lands being the first world to offer this new technology. It offers the same experience as full immersion, but without the neurological effects on the brain. No time-dilation either. We’ll slowly be pushing it across all of Pangea, but there is a lot of work on the back end.”
“What does that mean for the beta testers?” It would be cruel to take this away from them.
Benjamin smiles briefly. “Don’t worry, Esil. They’ll be taken care of. I’ve already signed off on keeping them on to test the new tech. The research phase will be moving forward with patients who have suffered from degenerative diseases.” He lets his hands rest on the desk. “I wish I could be a part of it, but I know my talents are better suited here. At least I can say I got the program up and running.”
“What about the NPCs in the game? What happens to them?” I’m ashamed I didn’t think of them to start with. Kindra and Carter have become real friends to me. They’re more real than any NPC I have ever met in Pangea.”
Benjamin chuckles. “They’ll be fine. The programming for the NPCs is separate from the AI that is being offloaded. We’ll spawn new characters for the medical testing.”
That’s a relief. It’s crazy to think that their entire existence could vanish with a simple command.
“What now?” This is a lot to take in.
“For now, you all get a mini vacation while we switch over the AI and prepare the new full-immersion lab. We sent out an email to everyone. It’ll take a few days to dismantle all of the equipment. You’ve put in a lot of work, so enjoy the rest while you can.” He gives me a half-hearted smile. “I’ve got a lot of calls to make. Shut the door on your way out, please.”
I really should be better about checking my emails. I missed the tournament announcement and this. Who knows what else I’ve missed.
Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy Page 50