Digital Evolution (The Game is Life Book 5)

by Terry Schott

  “Okay, thanks. Here’s hoping we can find out what happened to them, and what plans they have going forward.”

  “Remind me to tell him that we intend to keep the Game active.”

  “You told him it was going to be taken offline?”

  “It was never going to be taken offline,” Trew said. “There are Timeless inside with no bodies to come back to. I had planned on keeping it active, just not sending anymore kids in.”

  “What shall we call the specials inside Atonement and Sojourn?” Danni asked. “If we call them Timeless it could get confusing.”

  “I agree. I haven’t come up with anything that really grabs me. How about you?”

  “Same here. Let’s think on it for a bit longer.” Danni pushed her half-eaten dessert away and dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Alright, lover boy, enough food and business talk. I’m ready for dessert.”

  “We just had—” He grinned and pushed his plate forward as well, catching the attention of the waiter with a glance and signalling for the bill. “Penthouse instead of the hotel?”

  “You’re reading my mind.” Danni smiled. “Balcony?”

  Trew pulled a wad of money from his pocket and dropped it all on the table. It was enough to pay for the bill three times over. He grinned and pulled his wife’s chair out for her. “Balcony it is. You take my ideas and make them even better.”

  Danni kissed him on the cheek and took his hand as she began walking towards the door, pulling him behind her. “That’s how good partnerships work, lover.”

  44

  Lohkam’s pace slowed as he approached the large double doors, allowing two members of his Hand to hurry past and push the doors open. He strode into the room, looking neither left nor right at the 150 people sitting at the tables throughout the room. He walked to the front table which sat on a raised dais, much like the head table of a wedding, and sat in the centre chair. When the five members of his Hand were seated, he smiled and spoke.

  “Thank you all for coming. It has been a long time since the entire group of Elites were gathered. I am pleased to see so many of you still remain in the simulation.” He looked at the sheet of paper sitting in front of him. “Of the original one hundred seventy-four, it looks like only ten have exited. Since we are all close to the same age, give or take a few years, I think this group is still a force to be reckoned with.”

  “The oldest is sixty-seven,” someone announced from a table. “But we didn’t age normally, Lock, so we can all still climb a wall and snap a neck.”

  The crowd chuckled. “And fire weapons accurately while rappelling down a hundred-foot wall,” a woman’s voice called out.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Lohkam said. “Things have changed, and it’s finally time to make our mark on this reality.”

  “Why now?” The Elite leader— a regular opponent of Lohkam’s leadership decisions— glared as he asked the question. “Brandon has been gone for ten years. Why didn’t we make a move sooner?”

  “Because.” Lohkam spread his hands. “When he left, Cooper appeared.”

  “We know that.” The leader’s bored tone matched his expression. “How come he wasn’t dealt with?”

  “That is why there are ten less of us here.” Another leader snorted. “We tried, but couldn’t manage to give Cooper his ticket home.”

  “Which is why we’re here now.” Lohkam snapped. “Cooper has left the simulation.”

  The announcement caused a stir.

  “Who can confirm that?”

  More than a dozen hands raised around the room. Lohkam nodded at each and they lowered them. “We have enough trackers to feel certain that he is gone.”

  “Okay.” The leader shrugged. “Trew is still here, though.”

  Lohkam took a deep slow breath and shook his head. “Trew is an NPC. He doesn’t have the access required to defeat us. At least, not all of us.”

  “Both him and his wife communicate with the Mainframe.”

  “The Game’s mainframe can’t help him here,” Lohkam said.

  “No, I mean the mainframe that runs Tygon.”

  “Please. That’s fantasy. Everyone in this room has more ability and program access than either of them ever could. If there was a sentient mainframe running this sim, someone from this room would have made contact by now. Have any of you ever seen a trace of this mythical creature bathed in purple light?”

  No one spoke and Lohkam nodded. “I thought not. It’s a made-up phenomenon, or something that only an NPC can see. Either way, it has no power over us or how we want to proceed.”

  “So we deal with Trew and his wife,” another leader said. “Then what?”

  “We’ve existed long enough inside this sim. Killing ourselves is against the rules. We all know that suicide for us guarantees we never return to our bodies back home. Death from old age, unpremeditated by another’s hand, or the end of the simulation are the only ways to ensure we wake up in our original bodies.”

  “I hate those conditions,” one of Lohkam’s Hand members grumbled.

  “So which option do you propose?” the hostile leader asked.

  “This was Brandon’s sim,” Lohkam said. “We figured that out decades ago and decided that our best hope of living in the Dream was to let him try his plan. It must have worked. Yet we are all still here while he has exited the simulation.”

  “Maybe they will pull us all out soon?” someone said. “We were supposed to be here for only thirty years and it’s been forty. Maybe they are in the process of getting us out.”

  “I don’t think so. When I last spoke with him, Cooper never indicated we were being pulled out.” He looked at the assembled players in the room. “Brandon’s out. Cooper’s out. It’s time for us to go as well.”

  “We all gonna blow each other’s brains out without letting each other know it’s coming?” The comment was accompanied by sparse laughter.

  “No.” Lohkam’s eyes narrowed. “I want to send a message to that little puke, Brandon, back home. No one abandons us, especially not that selfish little brat. We’re going to destroy his precious simulation. I want to make sure nothing lives on this planet before we are pulled back to our original bodies.”

  45

  The General was afraid to sleep.

  He was exhausted. Of course sleep eventually did come, but when slumber finally claimed him he would discover himself on the table. Brad stood over him, laughing and holding his beating heart as the screams, his own screams, consumed him.

  It had never happened. Not truly. His psyche had been fooled into believing he had a physical body and that it was held prisoner by his former aide. Logic told the General that it was only a virtual experience, nothing more than a computer guiding his neurons through an intricate series of false memories. The pain and terror had never actually occurred.

  But he knew that wasn’t true. Flexing his fingers, he could feel the soreness deep inside of them. He broke each finger, at the joints, multiple times. I can feel the pain still. It aches deep inside me. He felt at his chest, the wound where Brad’s hand had punched through his rib cage still burned around the edges, throbbing like an infected scar. I can still smell the room, feel his spit on my face.

  The General covered his face with his hands. After a moment he slowly ran fingers through his silver hair and took a deep breath. “I just need one good night’s sleep.” His voice was weak and haggard “One good sleep, and I will be stronger.”

  Why bother? Why spend all of this time and energy to rebuild the world? No one really cares. They don’t even want to be here. Why waste my life?

  His plans were moving forward. Society was rebuilding according to his plans, soon to become the ordered, obedient world that it had once been. Most citizens were returning to their former lives. He controlled the media as it became available through restored technology. Thorn was helping him. Both knew the assistance was not willing but they had reached an understanding. The General would restore the world
to its former status and Thorn would profit from it.

  Why do I care about restoring society? I am tired of being in charge. Why don’t I let someone else shoulder the burden?

  The General shook his head. “Someone must run things. It is best for all if it is me.”

  The General had been speaking to himself with increasing frequency of late, almost as if there were two distinct people warring for control of his body. This was not new; everyone spoke to themselves. The General was becoming concerned because the voices no longer agreed with each other and he was not certain which would win. One voice urged him to give up and do nothing. The other demanded that he take over and control the world.

  “If I could just get a good night’s sleep,” he pleaded. “I’m certain I will be able to regain my balance.”

  The General shook his head and popped two more stimulant pills.

  He would sleep soon, but not yet. Brad would not torment him tonight. Tonight, the General would continue to move his plans forward.

  My people are depending on me to stay strong.

  46

  Miranda sat on the flat, broad stone in front of the small pond, the warm rays of sun shining down on her face as she meditated. Thoughts came to her, but she let them float past without focusing on them.

  I miss the Internet. Despite her best efforts, this thought caught her attention and lead to another. It will be millennia before civilization develops computers, and then decades after that before an adequate Internet is invented.

  She sat straighter and took a deep cleansing breath, allowing the thoughts to flow away. Despite her experience and efforts, the thoughts soon returned.

  Meditation is better than the Internet anyway. It taps into the greater fabric of this reality. Stop thinking, Miranda, and you will hear the music hidden in creation itself.

  For the space of twenty breaths, she meditated without another thought.

  And then: I miss Sparx. I wonder where he went.

  She touched her neck, the nanobot’s favourite location to rest in her body when they had been joined. She had been thinking of Sparx often lately. Especially when she meditated. She knew that if he was out there somewhere, the best chance of communicating with him would be through meditation, though if that had been the only reason to meditate she would not have committed to the activity, despite missing her companion. The physical and mental health benefits of meditation were significant and so she continued to do it daily. There had been nothing so far, but she was hopeful that someday—

  “Miranda?”

  Surprise almost caused Miranda to open her eyes, but she fought the urge and kept her breathing even. That’s not possible. I was just thinking about him. That’s why his voice seemed to be so clear in my head.

  She stilled her mind, waiting to hear it again. Soon she became aware that she was holding her breath.

  Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and stood. “Of course I was just imagining it. I will try again tomorrow.”

  Miranda reached down and pulled a sweater over her head. It was time to get back to her observation point. These early humans were a handful to keep track of at times.

  ***

  Sparx removed the headset and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and looked around to make certain the room was empty. “Well, Miranda.” He smiled. “It looks like I found you. Now let’s see if I can maintain the contact for longer next time.”

  47

  The woman collided with Cooper, knocking the bottle of water from his hand.

  “Please help me!” Her eyes were filled with fear.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t let them take me.”

  Cooper took a step back and a moment later, two soldiers came running around the corner. They stopped a few paces from the woman and pointed their rifles at her.

  “Down on the ground!” one of them shouted as he moved towards her.

  “What’s the problem here?” Cooper took another step backwards so that his back was touching the alley wall.

  The soldiers ignored him, one staying back while the other continued to approach the woman. “For the last time, get down on the ground or I will put you there.”

  Cooper raised his hands. Not my problem. They will take her and I will be on my way.

  When the soldier got close to the woman, he lashed out with the butt of his rifle. It connected with her jaw and she crumpled to the ground. He let go of his weapon and it dangled by his side from its sling as he rolled the woman over and put her hands behind her back, tying them together with a plastic cord. He stood and looked at his partner. “Call for someone to come get us.”

  “On it.” The other soldier touched a button on his helmet and began to speak into the built-in microphone. “Dispatch, this is Echo Three. Send a carrier to the following location as soon as you can.”

  The soldier standing over the woman stepped away from her. He noticed Cooper standing nearby and raised his rifle. “Sir, I’m gonna need you to lay down on the ground.”

  “Why?”

  “You were seen with the suspect. We will need to take you in and ask you a few questions.”

  “I don’t know her. She ran into me as she came around the corner.”

  “You can tell us all about it soon enough.” The soldier took a step towards Cooper. “Now, get down on the ground and put your hands behind your back.”

  Cooper grinned. The other one is still on his com unit, but he’s looking. “Fine.” He took a step forward and started to lower himself to the ground. “But you should have just ignored me.”

  Halfway down, Cooper appeared to stumble. Instead of falling, he tucked his head and rolled forward, immediately standing and striking upwards. With perfect range and timing, his right fist connected squarely with the jaw of the closest soldier, knocking him out. The second man’s eyes widened in surprise, but before his body could react, a knife pierced his throat. He clutched at the blade and fell backwards, dead before he hit the ground.

  Cooper retrieved the knife and glanced at the woman cowering facedown on the ground. “What did you do to them?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Musta been something.”

  She met his gaze, her hands straining against the plastic cord binding her. “They want me dead because I’m a Gamer.”

  Cooper raised an eyebrow and squatted down to hear her better. “You’re a what?”

  “A Gamer. Haven’t you heard of us?”

  “In another reality.”

  “Yeah, when we were on Earth.”

  “Interesting.” He tapped the knife against his thigh. “Who leads you here?”

  The woman laughed. “That’s what they wanted to know. I had no intention of telling them. I’m not telling you.”

  “This could change everything.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Cooper let the knife rest on his leg and spread his hands. “You won’t tell me anything, I got nothing for you either, sister.”

  “Sister? Are you one of us?”

  He reached over and cut the woman’s bonds. She stood and looked at him suspiciously. “I might be,” he said, “but likely not. I doubt enough of you can assemble. Even if you do, I would be surprised if you survive more than a week.”

  “You gonna let me go, then?”

  “Yeah.” Cooper turned and walked away.

  The woman watched him for a moment, and then she bolted right into a nearby alley.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Cooper returned to the alley. There was a drop of blood on the ground. Poor girl will leave a trail for me to follow all over town without knowing I even nicked her. He made sure no one was following him, then continued down the alley to see if the Gamer was running to her friends.

  48

  The old man sat on a bench in the park and tossed bread crumbs to the birds. The sun shone through the trees and a light breeze skipped over his messy white hair. He watched the birds as they cooed and strutted, every so often dart
ing their heads forward to snatch a piece of dry bread from the ground. He reached into the bag and tossed more crumbs. “Would you please be quiet. I heard your racket when you entered the other side of the park a half hour ago.”

  The old man heard singsong laughter behind him accompanied by the tinkling sound of pop bottle caps striking each other. The tall young man with a black leather trench coat and round-rimmed black sunglasses sat beside him on the bench and stretched his legs out. “Forgive me, old timer, I’m still getting used to them.” He held up his hand and shook it slightly, smiling as the three red pop bottle caps chimed.

  “Youngsters.” The old man snorted. “I’ve got two paws filled with the things and you can barely hear them when I shake my hands hard unless I want you to.”

  “I don’t think I’m as bad as you are making me out to be.”

  “Maybe not. Now that I think about it, the gloves aren’t that bad. It’s your singsong voice which is your most annoying quality.”

  “That’s not fair.” The young man looked wounded. “You know the only way for me to talk is to sing and I’ve gotten very good at concealing that. Most people don’t even realize that I’m singing.”

  “Well, I’m not most people. I hear it all. Your singing, the loud clashing of your bottle caps, all of it.” He turned and scowled at the younger man. “Why you even here, anyway? I’m sure there are lots of other places more exciting than this.”

  “Like where?”

  “Anywhere that I am not.”

  “Trust me, Elliot, some of my best moments are when I am furthest from you.”

  “Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

  “Sorry.”

  The old man grunted and threw another handful of crumbs to the birds. The younger man began to hum softly. Soon, many different types of birds began to gather to listen, the braver ones landing on his shoulders and on the seat beside him.

  “You can hold a tune, I’ll give you that.”

  “It’s kind of a prerequisite for the job.”

  “Still.”