Kingmaker

Home > Other > Kingmaker > Page 12
Kingmaker Page 12

by Christian Cantrell


  Alexei can’t see a reception desk, but among all the small groups of people purposefully crossing the lobby, one man stands still with his hands clasped behind his back and a smile on his face big enough to show discolored teeth.

  “Welcome to Pearl Knight,” the man says as Alexei and the boy approach. His wispy hair is a nicotine yellow, and his eyebrows are so light they are hard to see against his ruddy complexion. His teeth are just stained enough to complement the overall flaxen effect.

  The spectacle of the lobby has engaged Dre, and he suddenly appears much less sullen. When the man offers his hand, the boy forgets his moodiness and takes it without hesitation.

  “I’m Noah Fielding.”

  “Andre,” the boy says. “Strasser.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Andre.” The man turns to Alexei. “And you must be Mr. Drovosek. I hope I’m pronouncing that correctly.”

  “Close enough,” Alexei says, though Fielding could clearly do with some Russian lessons from the receptionist downstairs. The two men shake firmly.

  “It’s a spectacular building, isn’t it? This is one of seventeen we have all over the world—each one unique, but all just as magnificent.”

  “It doesn’t look like much from the outside,” Alexei says.

  “We try not to attract too much attention from the street,” Fielding says. “But inside, we can do whatever we want.”

  Dre is looking back up at the ceiling. “Do they ever crash?”

  “Never,” Fielding says. “They’re programmed to explore the world up there any way they want, and to avoid contact with all obstacles. After we installed it, we threw tennis balls up there to try to trip them up, but they’ve never made a single mistake. They even recognize themselves in the mirrors.”

  “What happens when they need power?”

  “They find their way to a charging station, then take off again when they’re ready. They’ve been up there day and night for over six years, which actually makes them pretty out of date, but we’ve been so busy, we haven’t had time to replace them.”

  “Sublime,” is all the boy can think to say.

  “Indeed they are.”

  “Can I go up there?”

  “Why don’t you save that for the way out,” the man says. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll find much more interesting.” He taps his cheek below his eye in order to indicate Dre’s prosthetic. The glow is gradually transitioning from orange to red. “You aren’t recording, are you?”

  “No,” the boy says. “It can, but I’m not.”

  “Good. In that case, follow me.”

  As they walk, the man turns to Alexei. “Are you Andre’s legal guardian, Mr. Drovosek?”

  “No. He lives with me, but he’s an emancipated minor.”

  “Ah,” the man says. “Well I appreciate you accompanying him nonetheless.”

  “We look out for each other,” Alexei says.

  They stop in front of the elevator bank, but the man does not reach for the wall. All the doors are perfectly round and consist of several brushed steel blades which converge like the aperture of a camera lens. The door closest to them opens by the blades swiftly and silently retracting. Fielding steps inside, and after Alexei and Dre follow, they are addressed by a formal and meticulous female voice.

  “Good morning, Mr. Fielding.”

  “Good morning, Pearl. Lower Observation Deck C, please.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fielding.” The blades constrict. “Just one moment.”

  “And make sure all the lights are off on the main floor.”

  “I understand, Mr. Fielding. I’ve turned the external lights off, but kept the internal lights on for the safety of you and your guests.”

  “Perfect. Thank you, Pearl.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The elevator is a cylindrical brushed steel capsule without so much as a single button or panel to interrupt its flawless lines. As they ease into a smooth accelerated descent, Alexei feels almost weightless. The contraption is clearly electromagnetically operated as opposed to being mechanical.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you here,” Fielding says to the boy. “But before I get to that, there are two things I want to explain: first, why Pearl Knight makes MAD; and second, why we give it away for free.”

  The capsule decelerates so gently that it isn’t until the door dilates into a wide opening that Alexei is certain they’ve completely stopped. He and the boy follow Fielding out into a long, black glass tube. It is lit from the inside, and since the space outside the tube is dark, the reflection makes it impossible to see what’s around them.

  “MAD isn’t actually a game,” the man explains. He is strolling slowly along the length of the tube, his hard leather heels striking a high muted tone against the dense glass surface. Alexei and Andre stay just behind, peering futilely through the glare into the blackness. “It’s more of a simulation. Did you know that?”

  The boy tries cupping his hands around his eyes to see into the darkness. “No.”

  Fielding stops and turns. “Now that you know that, any idea why we’d give it away for free?”

  The boy shakes his head.

  “Pearl,” the man says. “Invert the lights.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fielding.”

  The illuminated strip above their heads fades as spotlights come up outside.

  “We give it away so we can find the best pilots in the world.”

  The room the glass tube bisects is massive in every dimension, and is lined on both sides with the menacing and bristling machinery of war. The mechs on the right are smaller than the height of the tube, but as the models get larger, they begin to rise high up into the space above them. On the other side of the room is a long line of aerial drones, each parked at a perfect forty-five degree angle, and each hung with its maximum payload.

  “This is something not many people have seen,” the man says. He gives his guests a few more moments to take in what’s around them. “So what do you think?”

  “You mean these things are all real,” the boy says. He seems to be stating a fact rather than asking a question.

  “Absolutely,” Fielding says. He has started walking again and Andre and Alexei follow. “Pearl Knight Holdings manages a lot of different kinds of businesses. One of those businesses happens to be a video game studio, and another happens to be a defense contractor. MAD is where those two businesses intersect.”

  They have reached the Shark class of mechs, and the boy stops.

  “There’s your Mako,” the man says. “How does it look in real life?”

  “A lot bigger.”

  “It’s also a lot more fun to pilot in real life,” the man says. “You want to give it a try?”

  The boy raises his eyebrows. “Right now?”

  Fielding smiles. “Everything in this room is technically functional, but nothing is actually armed or charged. I’m not asking you if you want to play around with models, Andre. I’m offering you a job.”

  The boy looks at Alexei, then back to Fielding. “A job doing what?”

  “Piloting some of the most advanced military hardware the world has ever seen. Basically doing exactly what you did in the tournament, except doing it for real.”

  “But I lost,” the boy says. In his tone, there is just a touch of implication that Fielding must be an idiot. “I didn’t even finish in the top three.”

  “You might have lost, but I’ve never seen anyone so effective with a Mako before. You should have seen how excited everyone was watching you play, Andre. We’ve all probably watched the replay at least a dozen times. And if I’m not mistaken, you only have a few months’ experience under your belt, is that correct?”

  The boy shrugs. “About that.”

  Fielding takes a moment to appraise the boy. “Andre, do you even know why you lost?”

  “Because I walked right out into the open like a dumbass.”

  The man shakes his head. “That’s n
ot it at all,” he tells the boy. “You lost because everyone left in the game teamed up against you. There was absolutely no way you could have beaten three medium to heavy mechs, all working together. Nobody could have.”

  “Doesn’t really matter, though, does it?” the boy says. “You should be talking to the winner instead of me.”

  “Believe me, we’re talking to her, too,” Fielding says. “But we’re primarily interested in you. You see, Andre, it isn’t necessarily about who wins the tournament. It’s about who we think has the best instincts. I understand you grew up in a pretty rough neighborhood. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, you might say that.”

  “Well, we think that’s given you instincts that most of our players have never had a chance to develop, and that simply can’t be instilled through training. I mean look at what you did, Andre. You killed four out of ten mechs with nothing but a little Mako. That’s practically unheard of. And you might not have killed the first mech, but you certainly lured him to his death. There’s no doubt in my mind that if everyone hadn’t teamed up against you, you would have won the whole thing.”

  “So why isn’t it against the rules, then?”

  “What, forming alliances? It’s not against the rules because there are no rules. Remember, it isn’t about who wins. Theoretically you can win just by ghosting the entire time and letting everyone else slaughter each other. You’d walk away with the money, but you sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here right now. What we’re interested in is how people play—not who wins. And you have just the right balance of intelligence, aggression, patience, resourcefulness, and most of all, instinct. Andre, watching you play was truly inspiring.”

  Alexei puts his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s right, Dre. You’re very gifted.”

  “You certainly are,” Fielding says. “And now we want to give you the opportunity to put that gift to use doing something much bigger than just playing games. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” the boy says. “Would I have to move again?”

  “That’s up to you. You can move if you want, or you can stay here and we can fly you to wherever you’re needed.”

  “You mean like into war zones?”

  “Absolutely not,” Fielding insists. “You’re far too valuable to ever be put in harm’s way. All of our operations are conducted from fully secure remote command centers. You’ll be thousands of miles away from the action. We can and will guarantee your safety at all times. That’s a promise.”

  “Where are the command centers?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that. In fact, most of the time, you won’t even be allowed to know where you are. But I can tell you that we have several permanent installations in the United States, and several mobile command centers, including marine, submarine, and aerial. But we also have some very fast passenger jets and priority access to every major airport in the country, which means you can live wherever you want. On most days, we can pick you up an hour or two before your shift, and have you home in time for dinner.”

  “Would I get paid for doing this?”

  The man does a poor job at stifling a chuckle. “Yes, Andre. You will most certainly get paid for this. Your job would be to pilot trillions of dollars’ worth of extremely advanced hardware. There are only a handful of people on the entire planet who can do that. It’s in everyone’s best interest to make sure you are extremely well compensated.”

  The boy looks up at Alexei for a moment, then back at Fielding.

  “What about my vote?” he says.

  “Pardon me?”

  “My vote. The Thirty-first Amendment says you can take away my vote.”

  “I was under the impression that you’re still a minor.”

  “I am, but for when I turn eighteen.”

  “Andre, it’s important to understand that we don’t take anyone’s vote away. The Thirty-first Amendment simply states that employees can entrust their votes to their employers who then cast those votes in a manner consistent with their employees’ best interests. That’s all.”

  “I think what he’s asking,” Alexei interjects, “is whether or not his contract will contain a suffrage clause.”

  “Transfer of suffrage is standard in all Pearl Knight employment contracts,” Fielding says, “however exceptions can be made for certain candidates. Andre, if voting is something you feel strongly about, I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “It is,” the boy says.

  “Understood,” the man says. “Does that mean you’re interested?”

  The boy turns and looks out through the glass. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe.”

  “Mr. Fielding,” Alexei says, “is there a place Dre and I can talk in private for a few minutes?”

  “Absolutely,” Fielding says. “You two stay here and talk as long as you want. I’ll meet you up in the lobby when you’re ready. Pearl will make sure you find your way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Fielding pats the boy’s shoulder on his way past. The elevator has not moved so Fielding doesn’t have to wait. When the portal’s blades have fully constricted, Alexei turns to the boy.

  “What are you thinking, Dre?”

  “I don’t know,” the boy says. He is still looking at the machinery outside the tube. “Me and you had a plan. There are millions of people out there who need our help—people who are probably my ancestors. I don’t want to just walk away from that.”

  “That’s over for now,” Alexei says. “The reality is that there’s nothing for you to walk away from anymore.”

  “Why’s it gotta be over?” Dre asks. “Maybe I can make as much money doing this as I would have if I’d won the tournament.”

  “I imagine you’ll eventually make a lot more,” Alexei says, “but that’s not money we can use. Not now. You have to understand that the moment you walked into this building, it became impossible for you to help me. You heard what Fielding just said. He already knows you’re from West Baltimore, and he probably even knows the exact neighborhood if not the exact house you grew up in. You’re not anonymous anymore, which means you need to be very careful about your decisions. The best thing for you to do at this point is take the job and use the money to help yourself and to help your family back home.”

  “But I owe you.”

  “Dre,” Alexei says. He waits for the boy to turn, then kneels on the glass walkway to look him in the eye. “Listen to me. You don’t owe anybody anything. Do you understand? Don’t ever forget that. The only person on this planet you owe anything to is yourself.”

  “But I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I didn’t bring you here to work for me,” Alexei tells the boy. “I brought you here because I believed that you were capable of doing something amazing, and I still believe that. In fact, I believe that now more than ever. Don’t let this opportunity go, Dre. You can still make your mark on the world.”

  “How am I supposed to do that working here?”

  Alexei stands again and smiles down at the boy. “That I don’t know, Andre,” he says, “but something tells me that when the time comes, you’ll figure it out.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dre’s first mission is, as expected, classified, and naturally is to be conducted from an undisclosed location. His hair is short now, having been shaved almost bald during training (he was extremely self-conscious until Ki confessed to preferring it short), and he is wearing one of the five custom-tailored flight suits and pairs of boots he was issued after pilot school graduation. It is early, and Dre has been instructed not to eat, so he and Alexei do not have breakfast together, though Alexei is waiting for the boy in the kitchen. They walk together through the house to the garage, and right up to the door of Dre’s graduation present: the bright crimson Cherry Brilliance. Alexei shakes Dre’s hand, wishes him luck, and then watches the boy vanish as the glass dome brightens to full opacity.

  Before Dre could begin his
pilot training, he was required to pass a series of evaluations. The physical requirements were all straightforward, though one exception had to be made. PKS pilots are expected to have perfect vision in both eyes, and had Dre submitted an application as opposed to having been recruited, his resume would not have even made it past the initial prerequisite filters. The solution—which Fielding himself both proposed and signed off on—was simply to postpone Dre’s final perception test by one year. There is no stipulation that a pilot’s eyes have to be uncorrected, so Dre’s file states that his vision is to be retested once his ocular therapy is complete.

  The rest of the evaluations were psychological and primarily designed to ensure that recruits were mentally sound and capable of functioning under high levels of stress. The final test determined the boy’s ability to obtain the necessary security clearances; it attempted to detect signs of influence by foreign governments and/or domestic enemies through interviews conducted under magnetic resonance spectroscopic observation.

  Once the boy was cleared, his pilot training took place in two primary locations: classwork and simulator exercises were held in what was once an Air Force space and missile command center in El Segundo, California, and all of his field training was conducted from a series of bases at the edge of the Mojave Desert in Indian Springs, Nevada. The facilities in the desert gave Dre hands-on experience with every mech, drone, and ordnance currently in use by PKS in a wide variety of geographical contexts, including wide open plains, mountains, dozens of square blocks of replicated urban environments, and hundreds of acres of tropical rain forest, frozen tundra, and savanna grassland. The more exotic environments were contained beneath close to a million ballistic glass panels set into sprawling carbon nanotube space frames which, together, constituted by far the largest and most complex enclosed ecological systems on the planet. All four months of Dre’s training focused almost exclusively on procedures, weapons systems, and maneuvers; more mundane topics like geopolitics, national security strategy, and even the finer points of the chain of command were to be learned on the job and on an as-needed basis.

 

‹ Prev