by Dante Doom
Suddenly, he bear brought him back to the scene by slamming down on him hard and pressing its jaws right up against Sivlander’s head, so that he felt the intense pressure of the jaws as he began to stab at the creature’s face over and over again.
“Gahhhhh!” he screamed out then, as he felt a sudden jolting sensation run through his entire body. He was reeling... one moment, he had been fighting against the bear, and now he was sitting back in his crappy little apartment.
“Told you that would wake him up,” said a gruff, tall man in a suit. The man was holding the VR goggles in one hand.
“Hey! They’re mine!”
“Shut up, Van,” said a woman behind him. He spun around in his chair to see a red-haired woman staring at him. She wore a badge of some sort on her hip.
“How do you know my name?” Van demanded. He was still feeling startled from the jarring transition out of virtual reality and into his regular hellhole of a life.
“My God, this place is awful,” the man said as he grabbed a box of food. “Gamer chow? You actually eat this stuff? Smells worse than dog food.”
“Hey, stop that!” Van said as he leapt up to stop the stranger from pouring out the brown protein pellets all over the floor. The woman grabbed him by the back of the head, though, and slammed him against the wall.
“Take it easy, Van,” she said, emphasizing his name. He felt the painful pressure of her hand shoving him against the wall.
“W-what do you want from me?”
“Look at this place—it’s filthy. Absolute pigsty. Your mom’s gotta be so proud of what you’re doing with your life,” the man said as he walked over to a poster of a buxom, animated woman and shook his head. “Filthy.”
“Who are you?” Van stammered. His heart was pounding. Was this some kind of robbery? That didn’t make any sense, given that he was poor as dirt.
“I’m Agent O’Hara and this is my good friend, Agent Neil,” the woman said, relaxing her grip on Van’s head. She stepped back and kicked some of the haptic gear on the ground. “You play these virtual games, right?”
“Yeah... agent? What kind of an agent?”
“Secret Agents!” Neil said, pulling out his pistol suddenly.
“Knock it off, Neil, I told you not to flash your gun,” O’Hara said sharply, eliciting a shrug from the man.
“We’re with the CIA, Van,” Neil said as he put his gun away. “And we’re here to have a little chat.”
“Look, you guys have no business being in here. I’m no one special, okay?”
“First off, kid, let me you ask you something—your last name? Is that real? Not some kind of pseudonym?” O’Hara asked.
Van sighed heavily, giving up on his own questions for the moment. “Yes, my legal name is Van Vanyushin.”
“Hah, I love those kinds of names,” Neil said. “Well, Van Vanyushin, you are in luck. Today is your lucky, lucky day!”
“How so?”
“Because you won! You’re the brand new owner of an exciting new business opportunity to do what you love the best, get paid for it, and best of all, expunge your criminal record!” Neil answered as he stopped to inspect Van’s computer. The red and blue lights were flickering as it continued to run the game at full speed.
“What? What criminal record?” Van asked.
“Three years ago, you were involved with the illegal sale and movement of the drug known as Cwake,” O’Hara said, pulling out a small folder.
“Cwake? I don’t even know what that is—some kind of game?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” Neil growled. “You know what Cwake is.”
Van was actually terrified. He knew exactly what Cwake was: it was a highly synthetized amphetamine that essentially allowed a person to operate without sleep for days at a time. Before Draco had rolled out the rules for Sleep Time, Cwake had been the hottest commodity on the market, and it had been used in just about every single serious gaming group. Not only did he know what Cwake was, but these agents were dead-on... he had absolutely sold it back in the day.
“No, sir, I’m just a regular gamer who—”
“Regular gamer? Cut the crap,” O’Hara said as she slugged him in the stomach, causing him to reel back and hold his stomach.
“Hey, you can’t do that, I’m an American citizen—I have rights.”
“You hear that, Neil? He says he has rights?”
“You know, Cwake was probably one of the most illegal substances on the planet when you were dealing, right? You certainly do have rights. You have a right to an attorney, a right to a phone call from prison, and heck, you even have the right to remain silent, if you want to play the ‘I have rights’ game,” Neil said, leaning over to get his face nice and close to Van’s. “But the reality is, kid, we ain’t here to throw you in the clink.”
“We’ve got records of your sales, distributions, and movements all over the country, Van,” O’Hara said. “If we wanted you in jail, you’d be in jail.”
“Distributions?” Van wheezed, “You make it sound like I was some kind of kingpin. I… I might have sold a few pills here and there to some friends, but that’s it.”
“Just a few pills. Awww, did you hear that, O’Hara? He sold just a few pills! Our mistake, let’s get out of here,” Neil taunted him.
“Did you or did you not regularly receive packages from a Mr. Chaz Fordin?” O’Hara asked.
Van grimaced. “Yeah…”
“And did you or did you not regularly move those packages from your domicile to various locations across the city and state?”
“Yes…”
“And were you aware what was in those packages? Or did you think you were just delivering bubblegum?” Neil asked.
“How do you even know this?” Van asked.
“We’ve got our ways,” Neil said, sitting down on the chair across from Van and spinning around in it. “Here’s the deal. You’ve got a problem; we’ve got a problem. But fortunately, we both have solutions to those problems.”
“I’m listening,” Van said, shrugging. He had no idea what to do. Those minor indiscretions had happened so long ago, he had completely forgotten about them. He hadn’t done any kind of major crime, after all—he’d just been desperate for some money, and since he’d run away from home at such a young age as he had, he’d needed the money to get by. So a buddy of his had connected him to a guy known as Chaz who offered to pay him as a courier, moving Cwake around the city to various different dealers. He’d only done it for a few days before the guilt got to him, but the money had been good enough for him to be able to go straight with his life. He hadn’t gotten rich off the work, but it had given him enough money to buy the equipment necessary to finally get serious about his career in pro gaming.
And really, the digital economy in Dragon Kings of the New World was nothing to be taken lightly. If a person worked hard enough, they could make some serious money playing the game, obtaining sponsorship. Draco, the company itself, would even reward the absolute best players with actual jobs, providing them with those fancy biofeedback tubes that would provide total immersion.
It was somewhere in between the poor gamer and the professional gamer where people like Van survived—those who could make a living by selling in-game items, doing favors for other people, and even providing professional services for in-game characters. One of his most popular pursuits was being an in-game guide, as he knew the land extremely well, having played the game since beta stages. People would often pay him real money in order to get to secret areas, places where there was plenty of treasure, or high level areas where dangerous things creeped about.
So even if not everyone understood it, Van knew perfectly well that Dragon Kings of the New World wasn’t just some kind of a hobby—no, for many people, it was a way of life. Why live in a terrible, boring world with day jobs, taxes, and repetitive social constraints when you could live in a virtual world of sheer pleasure and joy? There were plenty of games out there on the market, but none o
f them could even come close to the Dragon Kings of the New World. It was the only game that had full-blown graphics and bio-immersion feedback, as well as a deep political system that allowed for players to actually rule and reign over the lands. In regular life, Van was nothing more than a kid without a college degree or even a real future, but in the game, he was a legend. Well, okay, he reasoned to himself—he was on his way to becoming a legend... but the fact was that he would be someone really important someday in that game.
And he was getting close to courting Draco’s favor in the hopes of getting a job as a professional gamer, which could even up his real-world life, but now with these CIA guys... this was trouble.
Draco wasn’t particularly interested in working with people who had criminal records, and if these guys leaked that information, he’d be finished. He had already spent all of his savings on a gaming rig that could run the game, and the little money he pulled in from doing odd jobs online barely enabled him to pay for rent and electricity. The fact was, without getting a job from Draco, his future wasn’t particularly bright. He had wagered everything on becoming a pro gamer..
Neil grinned, and it was clear that the agent knew what Van was thinking. “So, I’d love your assistance with a tiny little project. Miniscule, really.”
“What kind of a project?” Van asked.
“Shut it!” O’Hara said as she threw him up against the wall again.
“Whoa, hey, take it easy!” Van gasped as he froze. He had flashbacks to all of the times when he had been in brawls and fistfights as Sivlander, and realized that none of that experience made any kind of a difference in the real world. He didn’t have the muscles, memory, or training to fight back.
“Listen here,” she hissed, “we aren’t here to be your enemies, but we sure as hell aren’t here to make friends, either. We’ve got a complex operation going down, and if there is even a whiff of you blowing our cover, we won’t hesitate to make sure you’re nice and quiet.”
“I just asked a question,” Van whispered, shutting his eyes. He hated how weak and useless he felt just now.
“And we’re gonna answer it,” Neil said. “Draco’s got something screwy going on. We don’t know what, so we’re in need of some help.”
“How?” Van stammered.
Neil leaned against the wall that Van was pinned against. “We’re needing your help navigating that Kings of Dragon: Landtopia, or whatever it’s called. Word on the street is that you’re pretty good at it.”
“You want me to help you navigate a video game? That’s why you’re in my apartment, assaulting me?” Van asked in disbelief.
“We’re not even close to assaulting you,” O’Hara said as she looked around. “And this is a storage closet, not an apartment.”
“Just go away, please. There are better guides out there.” Van said. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on but his aching skull informed him that working for these two would be a terrible idea. “There’s Felix Dormam; he’s incredible—”
“Felix is a shill working for Draco. They all are. So, no thanks, we aren’t going to flip them; for now, that’s way too hard, and too dangerous. You’re an outsider. Our perfect guy. And plus, we’ve got dirt on you, so that’s good, too,” Neil said.
“I don’t know why you think they’re up to something. They’re just—” Van’s words were cut short as O’Hara slammed him against the wall again.
“Let’s not be confused here,” she hissed. “We aren’t here to explain anything. We are not here to bargain or negotiate. You’ve got a deal here, sitting on the table. You can get our agent to where she needs to go—no questions asked, no tattling, and certainly no talking about what we’re doing here. In exchange, we make sure all supporting documents about your little exploits go away, we throw you a few grand as a thank-you, and who knows? We might even get you a whole new box of Gamer Chow, so what do you say, champ?”
“I’d say it doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice, does it?” Van asked.
“Well, what else are you going to do with your life, kid?” Neil asked. “You’re 23! You spend your days jammed up inside that computer anyway; at least, this way, you’ll be doing your civic duty. I mean, it’s about time you contributed something to society, isn’t it?”
Van glanced between the two agents. He was having trouble understanding whether the violence was just part of the act, or if he really was under duress. It was impossible to tell. Still, a few thousand dollars and his records being expunged didn’t sound like a bad deal. The only question was, could he trust these two? And... well, did it really matter if he could? They were with the Central intelligence Agency, a clandestine spy agency. If he was a liability, they’d just kill him after they were done. Or was that just some kind of fiction?
“Fine, I’ll do it. How much money are we talking about, exactly?”
“Enough to get into a closet almost twice as big as this,” Neil said as he grabbed Van’s computer, opened the window, and threw it out.
“Holy crap! My computer! You just—”
“Whoops! That just slipped right out of my hands!” Neil answered as he glanced out the window. They were on the fifteenth floor in a slum apartment. Van rushed forward, only to see that everything had completely shattered on the ground, smashed to pieces. There were a few homeless people already trying to salvage the computer for parts.
“That thing cost me almost all of my money!” Van said hoarsely. “All of my files, my… hard drive. How am I supposed to play this game for you if you’ve destroyed my computer?”
“Well, first off, we don’t know what kind of spying Draco does, so we had to make sure your machine wasn’t bugged. I mean, who knows? The moment you plugged back into that game, it could have had our whole conversation uploaded. Secondly, you ain’t using that hunk of junk for your escort job. We bought a few of those biopod thingies for this job, so that’s where you’ll be.”
“The immersion pod 2.0?” Van asked.
“That’s the one. And who knows? If you do a really good job, we might actually let you keep one,” O’Hara said as she opened the door. “Car’s waiting downstairs, so let’s get going.”
“I need my—”
“Anything you need will be provided at the facility, champ. Or are you getting cold feet?” Neil asked with a slight growl in his throat.
“I’m fine…” Van replied, glancing around his small apartment. He wanted to act all indignant about losing his computer, but the reality was that there wasn’t anything of value on that hard drive except for the install file for his beloved game, and even that was easy to access. If he gave them attitude, they’d probably just hit him again. “Let’s go.”
“Great, great,” Neil said as he closed the door behind them. “And one last thing, Van... your new partner, she’s... uh, she’s great and all, but try not to piss her off. She can be a bit... spiteful.”
Van finally grinned a little at something to look forward to. If she was going into his world, she would have to play by his rules, and not the other way around. “No promises, Neil, no promises.”
Chapter Four
Van looked out the tinted windows of the car as they drove on in complete silence. It had been a few hours, and they were travelling into an area he wasn’t particularly familiar with. Was he even in his home state anymore? He couldn’t tell. He had tried to chat a little bit at the beginning, but the two agents didn’t seem to have anything to say to him. Occasionally, he’d hear them muttering a few words, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He figured, the less he overhead, the better.
“Here we are,” Neil said as the car pulled up to an old, abandoned-looking building.
“This is the place?” Van asked as he climbed out of the car and looked the place over. There were no cars parked out front and no lights on; the place looked like it had been empty for a very long time. “It looks abandoned.”
“Turns out, when you’re working for a clandestine operations agency, you have t
o keep your people and operations hidden,” O’Hara commented. “Up ahead, in there.”
They marched into the building, up a few stairs, and into a room where he could hear some wonderfully familiar noises. The soft sound of computers and chatter.
“Here we are. Now, listen here, kid... one more time. Anything you see in here, you forget. Your job is to lay in a pod, not move for several hours at a time, and get our girl to where she needs to be. Got it?” Neil growled.
“Yeah, I’ve got it. I got the whole deal,” Van grumbled.
“Here we go,” O’Hara said as they opened the doors in front of them. The room was almost blindly white. It was almost like being in a hospital. Dozens of men and women were busy flitting around, checking monitors, adjusting IVs, and handling charts. Some of the people inside were wearing suits similar to those of the agents escorting him, but others were wearing what looked like scrubs that a nurse would wear. One of the agents, a shorter man, approached them.
“Alright,” the short man said, “we’re just about set up here. The haptic system has been installed, the software’s been loaded up, the machines are synced, and our bio-vital reader is a go.”
“Whoa!” Van gasped as he moved closer to examine the two yellow pods in the center of the room. They were long tubes which were each designed to comfortably immerse a human being into the game, and they were so expensive that most people could only rent them, if that.