Battleframe (The Mindwars Book 1)

by Michael Gilmour

  “You and me both. Mihaly, we need to go to Blue Sky Studios in LA and get to the bottom of this before we have another episode.”

  “You’re kidding me aren’t you?”

  “No I’m not”

  Just then, Esther returned to the bedroom with James in tow. Like his father, he was battered and bruised from head to toe. He had a slight limp caused by a red burn on his left thigh and his eyes had dark rings under them from exhaustion.

  Russell looked up at his son, smiled warmly, and quickly winced due to his swollen cheek. Esther disappeared into the bathroom and Russell could hear her rummaging around for the burn cream. It seemed like only a moment ago that she had rubbed the same cream on his own arm. Russell caught James’ attention and mouthed the words, “It doesn’t hurt too much, just a lot!” James rolled his eyes heavenward and went to his mum to receive her ministrations.

  Continuing his conversation with Mihaly, Russell said, “I’m going to drop a note in the support forum and try and call them but we’ve got to leave now. We can’t afford to go to sleep again. From our last business trip I believe that flight QF93 leaves at 10am.”

  Mihaly’s tone was deadly serious as he said, “That’s right. This is for real isn’t it?”

  “It’s as real as it ever gets. While I’m trying to contact Blue Sky, can you see if Kheldar and DG can meet us in Los Angeles? Whatever you do, tell them they can’t go to sleep. See you at my place in a couple of hours.”

  “CT. Bye.”

  “See ya soon,” Russell hung up the phone, donned his dressing gown and headed to the study. After buying their flight tickets, he keyed in the address for the game’s support forum.

  While he thought about what to write, in the other room, he could hear James arguing with his mother about how hard she was pressing on his burn. Sighing, he rubbed his temples to help relieve some of the stress and tension. Who would have thought that having fun with a game would lead to this?

  Hunching over his keyboard Russell was just about to start a new thread in the forum when he felt Esther’s hands gently massaging his neck and shoulders. Bending her mouth near his ear Esther whispered, “Don’t worry, you’ll get to the bottom of it. I know you will.”

  Slowly turning his desk chair around Russell wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head against her chest. Esther gently stroked his head, each one almost magically taking the tension away.

  Russell tilted his head to look up into her eyes and said, “I don’t know what to do or say.”

  “You’ll think of something, you always do.”

  Pulling gently away, Russell stared lovingly into Esther’s eyes. “Thank you, Honey. You always seem to know what to say to keep me going.”

  “Whatever happens, you look after them Russ. Promise me you’ll keep the boys safe.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Lost in each other’s eyes, the sum over two and half decades of marriage communicated the love they felt for each other. That look said much more than words could ever have conveyed. Finally, Esther gave a small brave smile and said, “I’ll go and pack your things and see what our son’s got together.”

  “Thanks again Honey”

  Esther stopped at the study door and said, “Remember, you promised and I know you always keep your promises.”

  The confidence that Esther encouraged in him firmly placed the responsibility of everyone on his shoulders. He could take it, but only because she believed in him.

  Turning back to his computer he began to type in the new thread.

  “Hi all, a group of us have just had an unusual experience while playing Scourge Wars. We felt like we were actually on Alpha Three fighting the Scourge. Has anyone else experienced anything out of the ordinary?”

  Russell paused for a second to consider whether he should mention their experienced in the game while they were asleep. He decided to keep the message sussinct and pressed the “Post” button. He then scanned the forum for Tony who worked as a Blue Sky Community coordinator and known affectionately online as “thaman”. After finding him, Russell opened up the “Personal Message” system and typed.

  Hi Tony, a group of us were playing Scourge Wars last night and we’ve had some hard to believe experiences. After playing, each of us has actually experienced similar hurts to what we experienced in the game. Not only that, we are all absolutely convinced that we were somehow actually transported to the real Alpha Three. What’s going on????

  We are travelling from Australia and will be at your offices within twenty-four hours to get to the bottom of this. We need answers!

  Regards,

  Russell

  Russell reviewed his message, clicked the “Send” button and sat back with his eyes closed to think everything through.

  Chapter 2

  Taxis and Bus Stops

  A couple of hours later Mihaly arrived with Alex and Marie in tow. After an emotional good-bye, the boys and their fathers climbed into the waiting taxi and raced to the airport. The plane boarded at 9am and it was not long before they were airborne and on their fourteen hour journey to Los Angeles.

  Just before leaving, Esther had thrust a small slip of paper into Russell’s hand. Slipping it out of his pocket Russell unfolded it and read, “I believe in you.” Smiling he returned it to his pocket, settled back in his seat and dreamed of his wife massaging his shoulders.

  With a start, Russell’s eyes flew open as the plane’s intercom blared with the Captain’s voice, “Ladies and gentlemen I hope that you have had an enjoyable and relaxing flight. We are presently thirty minutes from Los Angeles international airport…”

  He had fallen asleep and nothing happened this time! Looking across at Bosk and their sons, they were still sleeping soundly. What could he expect? They were all exhausted after the battle and their bodies needed time to recuperate. Why didn’t they go to Alpha Three this time? More questions that demanded answers.

  The plane landed at 7am Pacific Time and after clearing customs the four jumped into a cab to immediately head to the Blue Sky Studios offices in Orange County. While on the way, Russell pulled his laptop out and linked it to his phone to check for any messages from either Blue Sky or other game players.

  The thread he started was full of the usual garbage comments, pictures of cats and complaints about programming bugs.

  Bosk asked, “Anything?”

  Scanning through the forum posts Russel said, “No one’s even hinted that Scourge Wars is anything more than just a game.”

  “Tony say anything?”

  “Hang on, let me check.” Russell brought up his personal message folder and found a reply from “thaman”. He read it out aloud.

  Hi Whizzbang,

  I’d love to catch up with you while you’re in Los Angeles, but sadly its company policy not to meet with any game players. I hope that you enjoy the next patch update that’s coming out next week.

  Tony

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said an exasperated Mihaly. “Do they actually think that we’d come all this way for nothing?”

  Russell thought for a moment as he listened to the thumps of the joins in the concrete freeway roll under the taxi’s tires. “I think we should go anyway. Do you boys think we should stop trying to find the answers to what we experienced because of Tony’s message?”

  “No way!” Alex jumped in, “I nearly died on that hillside.”

  “So did I!” James added. “And we all have the scars to prove that there’s something not right.”

  Bosk nodded and glanced down at his vibrating smart phone, ‘DG and Kheldar just texted. They’re going to meet us at Blue Sky in about thirty minutes.”

  With a cheeky grin on his face James said, “At least we’ve got the old squad together. Nothing can stop us now!”

  The mid-morning sun shone pleasantly in the Californian sky, cutting through the brown smog for which Los Angeles was infamous. A gentle breeze blew past the five-story glass office building and
rippled the carefully manicured lawn to either side of the entrance pathway in its passing.

  Sitting at a bus stop in front of the building, a solitary, elderly gentleman thoughtfully stroked the stubble of his aging beard with one hand while his other rested lightly on the walking cane in his lap. A dark blue and white checked shirt complimented his brown tweed pants with a matching jacket. A navy blue tie completed the ensemble and made him look like the perfect elderly grandfather. The thick black framed glasses that seemed to come from some bygone era further enhanced this impression. Behind the glasses, spectacularly azure blue eyes gazed at the world with a sense of secret mirth at a joke that only he understood.

  A young man skateboarded toward the bus stop while he balanced a pile of books under each arm and a pack on his back. He wore faded threadbare blue jeans and a T-shirt that looked like he had worn it the previous day and possibly the night before as well. Despite his dishevelled appearance, the spectacles sitting across the bridge of his nose were the very latest fashion statement for students of southern California, but they did nothing to hide his incredibly blue eyes.

  A woman headed towards the bus stop from the opposite direction to the student. She carried a violin case swinging by her side in one hand and in the other a briefcase with a folded music stand sticking out one end. Her black pants, white blouse and neatly pressed jacket complimented her long blond hair. She seemed to be savouring every step as she walked purposefully towards the bus stop. Her amazingly blue eyes darted back and forth, missing nothing along the journey.

  The grandfatherly old man acknowledged the student and the musician with a nod as they arrived and took their seats. Taking a deep breath he said, “It’s good to feel the sun on my face again.”

  The student replied to the elderly man, “Wisdom, it is a wondrous simple thing feeling the rays of the spectrum upon the epidermal layers of this covering.”

  The musician gave a chuckle, “Intellect, why can’t you relax with the science lesson and enjoy the moment? Don’t you get a sense of wonder at vibrating the very air with your vocal chords rather than using thought?”

  Intellect replied with just a hint of mock hurt in his voice to the musician, “But Creativity, I am having fun. It’s just my sort of fun.” Taking out one of the books from the stack beside him he said, “Can you believe this? They haven’t realised the true nature of light yet and are still debating the particle and wave theories!”

  Wisdom smiled at the comment. “Intellect, are they ready? Are the probabilities aligned?”

  “I have checked and rechecked the permutations and all is as it should be.” When Intellect indicated that he had double-checked “something”, it was a foregone conclusion that “something” would come to pass.

  Wisdom’s eons of age seemed to suddenly rest upon his shoulder as he spoke again, “The plan has been in process for over fifty thousand years and it comes down to a yellow taxi delivering one group of individuals to another.”

  The fact that Creativity chose this time to interject, indicated the gravity of the situation about to take place. “Over the years we have seen failures but the Earth’s genetic bloodlines have been preserved. Do you sense if any of them suspect our manipulations?”

  “Both the humans from the Concord and Earth are unaware of our existence,” Intellect replied as he casually flipped open another book.

  With a click of a latch, Creativity opened her violin case to peer lovingly at the instrument. “If they were, it could have seriously damaged the development of both strains. Despite all our care, only one branch on Earth is still viable and the other necessary.”

  In a husky elderly voice Wisdom replied, “That is well. The time is not yet right for them to know of us. Does Russell suspect who is in this building?”

  “He has his suspicions but they are still at the subconscious level,” Intellect said.

  “And what of the team from Blue Sky?”

  “They have been more focused on their mission and this has blinded them to all else.”

  Creativity absently plucked at the strings on the exposed violin and asked, “What of Kaladon IV? Is there still nothing that can save them?”

  Wisdom paused as he remembered the central square and the children enjoying the sunshine before replying. “Nothing can be done. We can’t disrupt all that has been accomplished.”

  Creativity nodded soberly. “I understand but...”

  Wisdom placed his arm around Creativity to pull her close and empathise in her loss. “Creativity, there can be no buts.”

  “I understand but my time seeding the nanite and nanomed technology as Altavia brought me close to the Concord.”

  Like a father consoling a child, Wisdom absently stroked Creativity’s long hair. “You did a masterful job on that assignment and even your death at the hands of the Scourge fitted into the plan.”

  Creativity sat up and replied, “Thank-you Wisdom. That was the most difficult assignment that I’ve ever had to undertake.”

  Wisdom cocked one curious eyebrow behind his spectacles and asked, “Why was that?”

  “Because I felt the love of those around me and I wanted to do almost anything to protect them.”

  Wisdom nodded sagely. “Love is a strong emotion and one that will hopefully drive the heart of the plan.”

  Intellect flicked his eyes up from his book and with a tinge of excitement in his voice said, “The taxi comes.” He then closed the book and with the others, sat expectantly waiting for eons of planning to come to fruition and a yellow taxi door opened to the future.

  Chapter 3

  The Boardroom

  Mark Anders, chief executive officer of Blue Sky Studios balanced his coffee mug in one hand and a notepad in the other as he pushed open the fourth floor boardroom door with his backside. The mid-morning sun streamed in through a wall of windows opposite, providing a view along the main boulevard to a solitary bus stop. The long dark wooden board table sat imposingly in the middle of the room. Twenty high backed, black leather chairs with solid armrests, surrounded the table providing a very corporate feel for such a creative enterprise. His community management team filled the three chairs down the far end and it was clear from their faces that something was not right.

  As his Commander entered, Matt looked up from reading a bundle of papers in his hands and hastily tapped the page edges on the table to get them into some semblance of order. Matt’s round face sported a full beard and a ready smile that disguised a cunning intelligence that had helped elevate him to the rank of major. However, today he looked distracted and perturbed.

  Mark’s, rectangular framed glasses did not hide the dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep. He had been working too hard again. As he walked up he raised an eyebrow at Tony and was about to reprimand him, when Tony quickly removed his feet from the boardroom table. He sat up straight, like some chagrined primary school student.

  “Lapses in discipline caused by exhaustion,” Mark thought. “They all needed some time to rest and recharge but that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.”

  Mark tiredly took a chair facing the three opposite and said, “OK, report.”

  Matt cleared his throat and then said, “Well, sir…errrrr…”

  “Well what Major?”

  “Subject Romeo, Oscar, Sierra, two, Niner is, well, errrrr…, on his way,” Matt managed to stammer out.

  In a rush, Mark leapt to his feet pushing the high backed chair against the wall behind him with a clunk. Staring Matt straight in the eye and with rising tension in his voice, Mark exclaimed, “Frap! What do you mean he’s on his way?”

  “Tony received a message from him that he was on his way.”

  “From Australia? I thought one of the reasons why we picked him was because he was on the other side of this frapping world?”

  “Well, errrrrrr…, yes but we didn’t expect him to go to the expense of travelling here.”

  “Tony, when did you find out he was coming?”

>   “Yesterday morning sir.”

  Tilting his head back in exasperation Mark swore, “Oh frap! At what point did you three think that it was worthwhile that I be informed that Whizzbang was on his way?” Mark’s voice reached the crescendo of his parade ground volume for which he was famous. “You frapping incompetent idiots!”

  Tony made the mistake of trying to put up some sort of defence, and said, “We responded as we always have and told him that it was company policy to not meet with players.”

  “Frap! Tony should know better than to quote policy. This is Whizzbang we’re talking about! Not just another game player!”

  Tony wilted a little under Mark’s verbal tirade, regrouped and mumbled, “What’s so special about him?”

  Matt glared across at Tony, while Frank sat in silence looking more like a monk contemplating the mysteries of the universe than an enlisted man berated by his commanding officer. Ignoring the three of them, Mark slowly resumed his seat. “Oh frap. Oh frap. Oh frap. What are we going to do?” he murmured to himself as he stared absently out the window at the three people waiting for a bus.

  Tony had never seen Mark like this before. He became suddenly very interested in stroking his short-cropped goatee with one hand while he rearranged his baseball cap with the other. This subconscious habit enhanced his comedic appearance as part of his online persona. Right now, it only made him look even more apprehensive.

  Coming out of his reverie Frank leaned forward in his seat and spoke for the first time. “Sir, we have to tell him the truth.”

  Mark spun his chair to face Frank, “What? Tell him the truth? Are you crazy?”

  “We’ve got no choice. Like you said, it’s Whizzbang, not to mention Bosk and the others.”

  Mark leaned his elbows on the table and brought his fingers together in a steeple with his pointers just touching his lips. It helped him think. Too much depended upon this mission. Despite all of their research and innovations, the war was nearly lost and the fate of the entire Concord hung in the balance. Even the near miraculous nano-technology developed by Professor Steinberg’s team thirty years ago only delayed the inevitable. Right now, they needed a miracle. They desperately needed something or someone that would dramatically tip the balance in their favour. What they sorely needed were heroes.