by Lee Doty
He was going to put Crow in the library. Revenge, he thought, first place. Then on those cold days in the Hollow, when Chrome would sit in front of the library watching the stream of ghosts come and go, he would see Crow stumble by and it would warm him like the Hallow. It would warm him because he was alive and Crow was not.
Chrome realized that a smile had spread on his face and that he had indulged in a series of distracting thoughts at the same time. He packed the thoughts away and again let his mission fill his whole consciousness. He left the smile on his face—let it spread wider.
Victory is life!
***
Crow and Shadow sprinted down the long, gently curving hallway, passing empty rooms and empty checkpoints. Though he was managing a full run, Crow could tell by his gait that Shadow was running with unrecovered damage.
“Status?” Crow asked.
“Took three rounds in the legs. Not bleeding anymore, one slug’s still in my right thigh, but it’s not anywhere dangerous. No broken bones.”
“Why are you running like a little princess then?” Crow asked, and they shared a quick smile.
“Don’t let Ash hear you say that.”
“Ash doesn’t run like a princes when she gets shot.”
“She’s more into getting blown up, chief.” Shadow paused, then his sober eyes caught Crow’s, “How are we getting out of this?”
“Left.” Crow said, and they ducked into an empty laboratory on their left. Crow gestured to a table strewn with some kind of electrical and mechanical components in the middle of a disassembly, then swept it all onto the floor. Crow pulled the knife from the sheath on his thigh, “Up on the table, princess.”
Shadow may have rolled his eyes a bit, but he complied. Crow used the knife to enlarge the hole in the thigh of Shadow’s BDUs, then after examining the wound, made three decisive cuts. He then used the tip of his knife to pry the deformed lead slug out of Shadow’s thigh.
“That was hardly worth taking out.” He said, pressing the cut closed and waiting for it to seal. “I’m not sure why you felt the need to complain about it.”
“I never asked you to take it out, Mom.” Shadow hopped off the table, and tried unsuccessfully to crane his head so that he could see the wound, “I was going to leave it in there like a souvenir of our time here in Virginia… Now I’ll have to keep it in my pocket and will likely lose it.” Shadow held out his hand, palm up and Crow dropped the slug onto it.
“Plan?” Shadow asked, dropping the bullet into a cargo pocket.
“Yes.” Crow said simply.
“Anything you’d need my help with?” Shadow’s eyes lingered on Crow, and though he said nothing more, the tone of the inquiry deepened somehow. Crow was still thinking furiously, grasping at the beginnings of several possible plans, when Shadow interrupted his thoughts.
“How can there be no library?” He asked.
Crow shook his head, “I don’t know details, Shad.”
“But I’ve seen the library… I’ve been to that excruciatingly boring place.” Shadow paused, “You said we’d been lied to since we were born…”
Crow cut him off with a gesture, “I don’t know, Shad.” Crow bit back the rage that had flooded out in that short statement, then continued in the calm tone he always used for command, “We took out HoldFire. We acted against another team during League play. Why didn’t they terminate us right then… suspend us all, send us packing to the library?”
Shadow said nothing.
“The fact that we’re still ‘playing’ means they can’t shut us down. Why?”
“The EMP?” Shadow seemed to be testing a rather distasteful idea. “After the EMP, they can’t somehow? But that doesn’t make sense. The EMP is a simulation like everything else here.”
“Which means?”
“It means,” Shad said, shaking his head slowly, “it means that the EMP is more real than the Clerics’ control over the Hallow…”
“Which means?” Crow said, letting Shadow reach the only conclusion.
“Which means that this world is more real than the Hollow. Which means that we’ve been lied to since we were born.”
Crow nodded.
“But why?” Shadow asked, a small, almost imperceptible thread of panic running through the words.
Crow put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Shadow… I don’t know. But I know three things for sure.”
“What, chief?”
“First, that you are my friend.” Crow took his hand off Shadow’s shoulder and used it to smack him lightly on the cheek, “Now don’t get sappy about it… it’s just a fact.”
“Secondly, I know that Ash was alive as of ten minutes ago, and for whatever reason, the OSI is helping her, or trying to anyway.”
“Why?”
“Long story. The summary is that I really don’t know… and third,” Crow said, bringing the conversation back on track, “Third, I know that I’m going to keep Delta from hurting either of them.”
“Again,” Shadow asked, “How?”
“I said I knew three things.” Crow smiled and pulled a black sharpie marker from a clipboard on an equipment-laden counter. He held the marker up between them. “Not four. Let’s go… I actually do have an idea.”
***
Chrome’s team had linked up at the scene of the battle between the remnants of Phoenix and HoldFire. They’d approached with all caution from two perpendicular directions, and had found the area deserted. After securing the area, Chrome reported in.
“Area is secure.” Chrome said into the command channel.
“What is the significance of that message?” the Cleric asked.
Chrome looked at the two words, scrawled on the wall with blood. The letters were made with four bloody fingers painting in a large, sloppy script. The words were “Fourth Place”
Chrome’s smile returned to his face, but this incarnation was a bitter mockery of the triumphant pleasure it had signified earlier.
“Yes sir. It is a challenge, an insult.”
“Explain.”
“It is reference to a nonsensical insult he gave me in the Hollow a few days ago. He’d said that if Phoenix hadn’t already retired that Delta would be in fourth place instead of second, behind only Phoenix.”
“That makes no sense.” Their Cleric said, as if to himself.
“Thus the ‘nonsensical’ adverb I had used to qualify the insult already.” Clerics were so thick sometimes.
“What does it mean?” the Cleric asked.
Chrome ground his teeth, suppressing the urge to define ‘nonsensical’ for the Cleric in small, explicit words. This was League play, he reminded himself. One of the League Catechisms returned to his mind, “If the Cleric chooses to withhold his wisdom, it is a test for the devout, not a weakness of the sublime. Victory is life!” He was to provide analysis, not indulge in the judgment of his divine leaders.
“It implies that Phoenix is coming out of retirement, and they will now subdue Delta into fourth place.”
There was silence on the command channel for a few seconds, so Chrome continued, “By this he means that he will kill us. It is humor filled with many interesting asymmetries and inconsistencies. I would find it appealing if it were not threatening my death… well, even then, if it weren’t delivered by Crow, who I find distasteful.”
More silence.
“Do you require further analysis?” Chrome asked in a parody of innocence.
“No, Chrome.” The Cleric said with an unsurprising mechanical patience. “What is your recommendation?”
Chrome thought for a moment. “Breach the lower installation as planned, finish this mission, Victory is Life.”
“But your top priority now is to terminate Phoenix.” The Cleric said, “How does your plan service that end?”
Thick, Chrome thought, “Phoenix will be expecting us to go after them directly and is likely laying out an ambush of some kind for us. The insult is meant to prejudice me toward followin
g orders without giving the best tactical advice. Maybe he entertains a fantasy about making me rash with anger. In any case, our best plan is to proceed with the assault.”
“How will proceeding with the assault lead to completion of the primary objective?” The Cleric asked again. Maybe it was his imagination, but Chrome thought he could detect frustration behind the machine’s words.
“The insult implies that Crow wants us to pursue him, and by extension, that he does not want the assault to continue as planned. My analysis is that our best option is to continue the assault and lay a trap for them when they try to intervene.”
“Is it possible that the insult is reverse psychology?” The cleric asked, “That the insult is meant to lead you to the conclusion that they should not be pursued so they can slip away without pursuit?”
It is a test for the devout, Chrome thought, trying to reinforce the idea, a test for the devout. Out loud, he said, “That, sir, is a second guess. That way lies madness. When faced with an action and a statement, primary weight should be given to the action.”
Chrome counted to five to give the Cleric time to comprehend or to be forced again to show his ignorance. The Cleric didn’t respond, so Chrome continued, “What Phoenix did was lie in wait for HoldFire. If they had intended escape, they would have simply disabled Shadow and Tink’s telemetry and slipped away. Since they used them as bait instead, and did so in a way that led to the loss of one of their team, I would surmise that their actual goal is either the protection of this installation, or the elimination of the other Falcon teams. Either they want our mission to fail or they want us dead—maybe both. Either way, our best option is to feint forward as if we don’t understand their intent and be ready to counterstrike when they try to intervene.”
“And you’re sure they will try to intervene?” the Cleric asked.
“Yes.” Chrome said, “And there is a further advantage.”
Chrome paused, forcing the Cleric to ask.
“Which is?” the Cleric asked after a few silent seconds, during which Chrome did not in any way let his amusement show.
“When we continue forward, Crow will not know if that is because the primary objective is more important than neutralizing the remnants of Phoenix, and would have at least no overt indications that this is a trap.”
“Unless he’s thought of something you haven’t.” The Cleric said.
“Anything’s possible.” Chrome said, “That is my tactical recommendation. How should we proceed?”
“Hold for orders.” The Cleric said and the command channel chirped closed.
***
“What do you think of Chrome’s analysis?” Bai asked Xian.
Xian shook his head dismissively, “Correct but irrelevant.”
“How so?” Bai asked.
“Our assault on the OSI installation has failed.” Xian pronounced. “The military ready reaction force is now minutes away. If we allow the remnants of Phoenix to survive, they would be invaluable to our enemies, assuming they are inclined to surrender and could manage it. Inform Delta that they are to pursue the remnants of Phoenix and terminate them. If their pursuit takes them outside the reach of the enemy reinforcements, collect them. If they kill Phoenix quickly, then burn them getting as close to the core of the installation as possible and then terminate them if they are incapacitated.”
“Yes sir.” Bai said, but before he could give orders, Xian continued.
“There is one more tactical risk that must be addressed and a piece of crucial motivation that Delta needs. Here is how I’d like you to handle it…”
***
The command channel again chirped open and the Cleric spoke, “Chrome. Your tactical advice has been found lacking due to two complicating factors that were beyond your knowledge. Rest assured, your logic was sound and you will receive highest points for tactics, but your orders are to pursue Phoenix directly and with all haste.”
“What two factors?” Chrome asked, suppressing his displeasure.
“First, Phoenix attempted to hack the server you are playing on.”
The blood drained from Chrome’s face. He wanted to scream denial, but it would have sounded like what it was: respect for Crow. Awed, surprised, fearful respect. How could a player possibly gain any kind of access to the control interfaces for the simulation that was the Hallow?
“How…” he said, dumbfounded.
“How is not important!” the Cleric cut him off, “There was some new code we were testing with this mission and they fell into some irregularities and used them to disable their telemetry so we can’t track them. Here is what is important: they have already paid for their arrogance with their lives.”
“If they are dead, why pursue them?” Chrome asked.
“They can never return to the real world. When they corrupted the telemetry, they compromised their egress software as well. When we shut down this mission, they will all be dead, even if they prevail. They will not be suspended, you will not see them in the library—they will die when the mission ends and the Hallow fades around them for the last time.”
“How is this relevant?” Chrome asked, as shocked as if Phoenix had pranced away on a rainbow riding unicorns.
“It is relevant to your tactical options. If you attempt to enter that device at the end of the hallway, you will share their fate. You will die.”
“What is it?” Chrome asked in a small voice, peering down the hallway to the smaller metal and glass passageway that now took on some of the essence of the dragon’s cave.
“It is technical. It is subtle. It is not important in any sense beyond the warning I am now giving you. Stay away if you want to live.”
“Further,” the Cleric continued, “Phoenix knows they can never return. Now that it is too late for them, they understand their fate. It is now their goal to take you down with them, to either kill you—to put you in the library—or to trick you into sharing their fate. They may try to convince you to abandon your mission and to try the same exploit they did. I will now warn you as I warned them: If you do this, you will die. If you do this, then in a way Crow will win.”
Chrome nodded, “Understood. You said there were two factors.”
“Welcome to the top of the leaderboards, Captain.”
Chrome wasn’t sure if the visceral reaction that rose, singing, through him would have been possible in the Hollow. It seemed to come to him not from his mind, but somehow through his body, in a tightening of muscles, a flush of blood, and a tingle of nerves that somehow conveyed and fulfilled a single thought: Success—long deserved, long denied success.
“Phoenix will die when we shut down the simulation.” The Cleric continued, “But they have broken our rules, betrayed their caregivers, broken their covenants. Is it not right and proper that they should be put down by the only team who could do it here, in the Hallow, where they have dominated so long? Is it not right that they should fall in the Hallow… and at your hand?”
“Yes.” Chrome said, voice soft with reverent intensity.
“Then go, child. Go and claim what is rightfully yours.”
“Thank you.” Chrome said, bowing his head and closing his eyes, “Out.”
Two Pursuits
Chicago, 2020
“Jeremy, how well do you know your neighbors?" Jo asked.
“Pretty well,” Jeremy said, “Across the hall is Mrs. Pollack, sweet spinster I help with her garbage… she flirts like a twenty year old stewardess. On either side of me are professional couples: Financial Exchange software engineers toward the elevator and lawyers on the other side. I’m friendly enough with all of them. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about intel.” Jo said, “Dr. Smith, you’ve got people still alive in the building?”
“Intel?” Smith asked.
“When we were running an op— back when I was still wearing the hood— we could ask our Clerics for almost any intel during an operation—especially in urban or networked environments�
�and they would have it quickly. At the time, it wasn’t that amazing as we thought it was all a simulation so the Clerics were just omniscient about the game data, but anyway…” Jo shook her head, trying to stay on-point, but also trying to parse through the mountain of unindexed memory that still threatened to drown her, “anyway, the Clerics always had the information quickly. If they know I’m in this building, and if they found your operatives outside, they’re likely looking for someone in the agency living here, a ‘friend’ I might have come here to contact.” The glance she gave Jeremy was not exactly an accusation, but it was in the same zip code. “They’ve likely isolated a small list of possibilities, maybe even penetrated Jeremy’s cover. Have you only lived here since you started watching me, Jeremy?”
Jeremy nodded.
“They’ll be coming here specifically then, I’d say ninety percent likely. They will be sweeping the building, but not searching it until they breach that door.” Jo waved towards the entryway of the apartment.
“Are you really so sure,” Smith protested, “our covers are fairly impenetrable…”
“They will have your apartment number in less than five minutes.” The man with Jackie said from the phone, “I’d say fifty-fifty odds they’ve already got it.”