Escape The Grid: Volume 1

by Patrick F. Kelly

  Every student raised their hand.

  “Sofia, tell me what you know about the MGI.”

  Sofia smiled again. She was really digging this class.

  Maybe history can be fun.

  “Well, I get money every month in my bank account to pay for things like coming to school or groceries or music or games and then some of the money is taken back at the end of the year for taxes.”

  “That’s right, Sofia,” the teacher said. “Although probably most of the girls here don’t pay taxes, you are lucky if you do because it means that you have other income sources set up for you. In any case, you are exactly right about the MGI. Now class, here is a hard question. Where does the money come from to pay for the MGI?”

  Nobody raised their hand.

  “Well, that’s why we are in this factory. The Automated Society Act put a tax on all of the software and robotic production, so that when automated systems produced wealth, the government in Washington collected money. Since fewer Americans were able to work because of the automation, the money made by the robots and software turned into social security checks. In other words, the computers did the work and the American citizens got the rewards.”

  A girl raised her hand. The teacher nodded. The girl said, “So the computers are like our slaves?”

  The teacher grinned. “They aren’t like our slaves. They are exactly our slaves. That is a perfect description. And once they were doing more of the work, humans could focus on other activities. Let’s go through each of your mothers’ careers. I have it here on file, so I’ll just read through some.”

  The teacher’s avatar pulled out an imaginary sheet of paper.

  “Several of you have mothers in the entertainment industry, creating TV shows, movies, and VR worlds; one of you has a mother who is a teacher, I like that,” Miss Woods smiled. “What else? About 20% of the mothers work for the government. The rest are scientists, engineers, doctors, accountants, managers and small business owners. An excellent list. You all are very lucky to have such successful and accomplished mothers.”

  Sofia was thinking about the one thing the teacher didn’t say, when suddenly a girl asked it.

  “What about the men?”

  “Well,” Miss Woods replied, clearing her throat. “Uhh, the men, uhh, they also got a great deal for themselves. Since there weren’t as many jobs to go around and since they loved being on the grid playing video games and watching sports, they got a deal where they could just stay online all the time. They only had to do a little bit of work every week, the kind of jobs that women didn’t want. The men get to play, and we get to be safe and keep all the best jobs. We win and so do they.”

  “Will computers take our jobs one day?” a girl asked.

  The teacher smiled. Sofia realized Miss Woods must have facial gesture sensors.

  “Probably not, but no one 100 years ago would have predicted all the things that have happened. One thing for sure - if we lose our current jobs, the new jobs will be even better. That is one thing history has taught us about technology.”

  30

  SUSAN SAT IN HER OFFICE, basking in the glow of multiple wall screens’ imagery of a tropical jungle. She was surrounded by tall trees, water falls, exotic animals and the sounds of the rain forest. She had just finished speaking with Doctors Emily and Natalie and everything was moving forward according to plan.

  Natalie, working with her team and re-using lots of existing software, had created a prototype world and recruited gamers. They had produced a teaser video and offered huge prize money and 90% of their targeted list of gamers had joined and were starting beta tests on the simulation.

  The prototype was mainly small towns, using real-world 360-degree video footage from all over North America. Basements, back rooms, abandoned buildings, isolated locations. The prototype was similar to the US but unique enough to possibly be anywhere. The gamers were told that the missions involved eliminating hiding spots where terrorists coordinated their attacks.

  Terrorists are young and old, male and female.

  The simulations would involve both men and women, some tranquil, some actively fighting back. The gamers would get used to killing people that looked like elderly Americans. It was important psychological training, to get the gamers to shoot fragile-looking people without hesitation.

  At first, they would train with two different locations and six armed drones at each. Once a gamer got the hang of it, he would train with four locations and eight drones each. Those who progressed would work with six locations and ten drones each, meaning sixty screens to monitor at the same time. The cream would rise to the top, making it easy for Natalie to finalize the lucky gamers.

  And then there’s the HRT problem. We have to plan assuming it won’t be ready.

  Emily had the team in LA working through it again. They sent them unclassified versions of past footage, highlighting where the software glitches occurred. A priority fee was paid to expedite the work and a stronger Non-Disclosure Agreement had been put in place. They still had no cover story, though.

  Too many loose ends.

  Susan meditated in the virtual jungle. In a few seconds, the scheduled call with the Secretary of Defense would begin. An impromptu request from Margaret Lane, emailed just 45 minutes earlier. Susan hoped it was good news.

  She spun in her chair and took in the rain forest. Her office had a wall screen on all four walls and the ceiling. The effect wasn’t as good as VR, but it made her office feel more like a vacation. It set the mood for a positive announcement.

  Gotta be a positive announcement.

  Suddenly, all screens went black and the video conference began. Susan had setup the system to automatically answer any video call from Secretary Lane.

  Margaret Lane smiled at her from the wall screen, “Good day, Susan. I’m glad you are sitting down. I have exciting news, so let’s not waste any time.”

  Susan held her breath. Margaret continued: “The promotion is yours. I read the report on Soldier World and the plan is excellent.”

  Yes! Finally!

  Susan was beaming. “Thank you so much, Madame Secretary. I’m honored. I thought that you were going to wait until after the mission.”

  “That’s what I wanted you to think. Just like I wanted you to think there were other viable candidates. The truth is, your work is exceptional and I didn’t want to wait. I can say that we won’t make a formal announcement until after the mission is a success. But that is just a formality. Your current workload will be re-assigned, and I have a whole new set of tasks for you to jump into. When can you get to Washington?”

  Susan was overwhelmed. “When do you need me there?”

  “This evening would be nice, but I’ll settle for later this week.”

  “Of course,” Susan said. “Should I book a flight now?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll have one of our private jets bring you over. It has secure lines and would permit you to conduct operations the entire flight time. This job will require a lot more hours. You will be in charge of all video surveillance nationwide for borders, camps, prisons, highways, etc. Every large-scale surveillance program will be under your purview.”

  Susan couldn’t believe how fast it was all happening.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You’ll get a security briefing shortly and need to spend the next 48 hours learning the broad strokes of the job. I think we should meet in person this Thursday. I have something critical to do Friday, and I want you in Washington and fully prepped for it. Can you do that?”

  Thursday was two days away. Susan would need to make plans for Sofia but otherwise could spend all of her waking moments getting ready.

  “Certainly. If you have some specific task in mind, can you tell me more so that I can prepare?”

  “Not yet. But I can tell you this. When you get the briefing and the initial training, focus all of your attention on the grid camp surveillance systems. We can get into border patrol, pr
isons, highways, and the rest later. Focus on the camps for now. I’m late for another meeting. Have to go. Congratulations, again.”

  The screens flickered and Susan was back in the jungle. She felt waves of excitement and nervousness flowing through her body.

  So much to do.

  Have to be prepared for DC this Thursday.

  31

  TUCKER WAS UPDATING his profile at Soldier World. He was excited about his chance to participate in this new mission, and he wanted to make sure everything looked good before he submitted his application. The prize was the biggest he had ever seen for a single mission.

  Reviewing the questions on his profile and his old answers, he laughed. For the question, “What are the highest priorities in your life right now?” he had answered “Bear Bryant, Nick Saban, and Jesus, not necessarily in that order.”

  As he reviewed all of this psychological questioning, he wondered what on earth people at the company did with the stuff. But it was clearly marked “Required Information”. If he didn’t fill it out, he might not make the cut.

  The one thing he would never change on his profile was the Gamer ID. AlabamaGetErDone. He had built up a name for himself, a brand, and it was now well-known.

  Tucker knew little about this new game style except that it paid more than any missions ever and only the absolute top players were even invited to participate. What they said was new about it, and would make it much tougher, was that you had to manage four or even six missions simultaneously.

  He clicked on the teaser video again. He had watched it three times since they emailed it last night.

  “Are you good enough, Commander?” the commercial had started. A general was talking to a Commander in a private bunker.

  “These terrorists scum will stop at nothing. They want to destroy everything this great nation stands for. But I don’t know if you are the right man for the job, Commander,” the General stood up and walked around the room.

  “This isn’t like past wars, sir,” the General continued. “The bad guys don’t look like bad guys. Some are old, some are women. They use software as their weapon, so you may not see any guns when you attack them. You have to unlearn everything you know about warfare.”

  “I’m ready,” the Commander’s voice was heard for the first time. It was Tucker’s voice. The Commander stood up and the camera adjusted to capture him in full. It was Tucker’s avatar. “I was born to do this, General.”

  Pretty cool that they personalized the teaser.

  “This ain’t like your past missions. You’ll be dealing with six different drone armies. Autonomous drones, you just need to authorize their strikes. We’ll be attacking multiple terror cells. The way these networks communicate, if you hit one, the others find out quickly and run. So we’ll be hittin’ them all at the same time.”

  “I can do this, sir,” Tucker’s avatar said confidently.

  “I don’t know, Commander. May be too fast-paced for you. Too many drones to deal with at the same time. I think you’re too old for this mission.”

  “I’ll get ‘er done, sir. I always do. That’s a promise.”

  “I like you, son. I’m gonna give you a chance to prove yourself in training. If you can outcompete the other gamers, the post is yours. There’s a lot of money at stake, but I know that you don’t care about that.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Tucker smiled at the teaser. He liked the style of it. He finished reviewing his profile and submitted it. Now it was a waiting game.

  TUCKER LOGGED INTO Sports World while he waited to hear back. Sports World was his favorite hobby, although he wasn’t good enough to make any real money here. AlabamaGetErDone was a top player in Soldier World, but was middle of the pack at Sports World.

  Who needs money anyway, as long as the rent is paid and the VR is working? Having too much is just another pain in the ass.

  Tucker wanted enough money to afford the best gaming equipment, eat fried chicken once a week, stay stocked up on Jim Beam Kentucky Bourbon, and know that the lights would be on for another six months. That was sufficient financial freedom. Anything more was just pushing your luck.

  Now this new mission was another story. If he succeeded here, he would be set up financially for years.

  Simmer down, good buddy, he thought.

  Ain’t no reason to get too worked up. We either get it or we don’t.

  Can’t change nothin’ dwellin’ on it. Best to focus your mind somewhere else.

  He looked around him. The main Sports World platform had screens in all directions representing many different types of games and levels for each. Since Tucker played a lot, the game knew his preferences and put screens in front of him that were his favorite places to go. He made all the gestures needed in rapid succession to get to College Football and into his league.

  It was Week Three of the new league, where he had worked his way up to being head coach of Alabama, ranked #5 in the polls. Ohio State was somehow ranked higher than he was, and Tucker was none too happy about it.

  We’ll just see about that. If I had their schedule, I would win every game by five touchdowns.

  His league, unlike some of the others, was only for managing. Tucker was no longer able to keep up with the young guys in the more active leagues, the ones where guys controlled individual players and actually ran, passed, and jumped. Those guys got a real workout. Tucker had played that way earlier in his life, but he was too old these days to keep up, and he was too competitive to lose most of his games. He sure as shit wouldn’t allow an Alabama team to have a losing season.

  His league was all about the management, tactics and training of the players. His Bama team was 2-0, and he was planning the training schedule for the upcoming week, a game against Florida and Tim Tebow. Tucker spent about 10 hours every week just preparing for the next game. He tried to figure out what his opponent was likely to do, watching footage from their past games.

  While he sat in his office at the University of Alabama, his defensive coordinator walked in.

  “Malik’s injury is probably going to need surgery. He’s out for the whole season, barring a miracle,” Randy said.

  “We talked about this,” Tucker replied. “We have to get Johnson ready. He was a great linebacker last year as a sophomore. He’ll do fine as a starter. Just make sure he is getting the reps he needs.”

  “Aye, aye, cap’ain,” Randy said and left the office.

  Randy was an AI-controlled avatar, but he was so good you would never know it. In the early days of Sports World, players had to start as assistant coaches and work their way up to the head coach job. But most players hated the system that way and preferred to be head coach at the start. So, the programmers changed the game and added more leagues, ranked by difficulty, where each player could be a head coach of a division one team. The coordinators were usually AI’s.

  As Tucker reviewed film on Florida’s last two games, he got a notice on his wall screen.

  It was the email from Soldier World he had been waiting for.

  That’s fast.

  He gestured to bring the email full wall and began quickly scanning it. He saw one word that lifted his spirits. “Accepted.”

  Sweet!

  He quickly submitted the rest of the Alabama training schedule for the day, accepting AI suggestions on almost everything. Then he logged out of Sports World and went back to Soldier World.

  Now it’s time for me to train.

  32

  ALL OF THIS TALK OF LOVE was messing with Julia’s head. It was all too fast.

  What am I doing? What are we saying? How can we be in love?

  We haven’t even seen each other in real life.

  Sitting in her apartment in Havana, on a Tuesday night, she was ready to video conference with Thomas, but she was scared out of her mind. They had discussed this at length. Their first real meeting.

  Well… Real only in the sense that it was really them over good-old-fashioned video conference
technology.

  No goggles, no air-brushed physiques or facial gesture suppression. The real her and the real him, looking at each other in the real faces and the real bodies. It was so intimate and yet so ordinary under normal circumstances.

  There was a second objective to the conversation, which was of critical importance: the logistics for Thomas’ escape. It was so important, a life-or-death mission, and it was somehow being crowded out of her mind by the fear of him seeing the real Julia.

  Snap out of it. His life is in your hands. Focus on getting him out and into safety.

  All of the rest of it will work itself out.

  Yet the romance and the expressions of love, they shouted at her from every neuron in her brain. The more she tried to control and suppress the thoughts, the more the neurons fired.

  She let herself go, breathing deeply. One, deep breath, two, deep breath. The lessons learned from yoga and meditation classes. Lessons she constantly had to re-learn because her natural state was to always be moving, always be thinking, always be doing something.

  Relax, Julia, be in the present. The present is a gift.

  She thought about old children’s tales, long forgotten and never read by girls today. Damsels in distress, a helpless woman was saved by a strong man and she couldn’t help but fall in love with him. He was her savior, her Prince Charming.

  Julia may be living the opposite. The man in distress. Alone, trapped; innocent but incarcerated. Only she could save him. She would be his Princess Charming. How could he not fall madly in love with her?