Digital Evolution (The Game is Life Book 5)

by Terry Schott

  “You did slaughter groups that assembled to protest the old order of things.”

  “Sure.” The General’s shrug conveyed no remorse. “And if it had worked to stop them, it would have been better for all of us. But it did not work. Instead of adjusting them and restoring control, it fired them up into a full-blown frenzy. It didn’t work, and so we try another alternative.”

  “General,” Thorn said, “like you said yourself, a lot has happened in a short period of time. The best course is to continue peacefully. In time, I am certain that everyone will become convinced that you are being genuine.”

  “You’re right,” the General said. “Until then, I suggest we treat the false leaders as if they are the real ones.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I rely on each of you to look for opportunities to drop subtle hints when interacting with them. Let it be known that we suspect there are others who might want to come forward as leaders and that we welcome such a thing. Until we meet the real leaders, things will go slowly as we wait for the pretenders to get word to the true decision makers.”

  “I could tail them,” Melissa suggested.

  “No.” He shook his head. “If they spot you, even once, it will confirm their worst suspicions about us. About me.”

  Melissa nodded and the General stood. “That’s all for now.” He strode to the door, opened it, and paused. “One more thing. All surveillance cameras are being taken offline.” He exited the room.

  “What did he say?” someone asked.

  “The surveillance cameras are being shut down,” another answered with a doubtful expression.

  Thorn chuckled as he stood. “That was quite the exit, wasn’t it?”

  The rest of the group stood and left the room without commenting. Melissa went to her office, her mind reeling from the implications of what she had just seen and heard. Twenty minutes later, she received a summons from Thorn.

  She entered his office and sat down, waiting for him to tap his throat—the signal indicating that the area was free of prying eyes or ears—before she spoke. “Is he telling the truth or lying?”

  Thorn laughed. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  “I have to believe he’s lying, although it would be good if he weren’t.”

  “We have to run on the assumption that he is,” Thorn agreed. “The danger is simply too great to risk it.”

  “Why not just kill him?”

  Thorn scowled. “Because it would fail and we would all be revealed.”

  “Are you certain? I’m his closest protector—”

  “Really? Then why aren’t you protecting him right now?”

  Melissa paused. “I don’t mean his bodyguard. They are just rotated soldiers.”

  “Listen to me, and listen very carefully, Melissa. I need you to be smart. Killing him is not an option. At least not at the moment. Stay focused.”

  “Sorry.”

  “He suspects at least one of the people who sat in on the meeting, maybe more.”

  “I know. This is tiring. Games within games within games.”

  Thorn laughed. “That’s life, girl. I would tell you that it gets easier with practice, but it doesn’t. The games just get more complex, and the stakes become higher.”

  “Our entire world is at stake. How could it get any higher than that?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And don’t worry too much about our world, it will be fine. Our species might die out, but sometimes I get the feeling that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.”

  “Maybe, but I’d like to keep existing for as long as possible.”

  “Me too.”

  “What’s our next move?”

  “I don’t believe that he’s disabled the surveillance systems,” Thorn said.

  “There’s no way to know for certain if he has or not.”

  “There is. I will look into it. In the meantime, I want you to get a message to the Gamer leaders.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want them to come forward.”

  “They won’t. It’s too soon. You said so yourself.”

  “I don’t want this issue dragging on. We don’t have months, or even weeks if we hope to stay on track.” It was clear from his tone that he was frustrated. “The time differences between realities are necessary but very frustrating, especially when dealing with them from this end of the spectrum.”

  “A month here is ten years on Tygon, right?”

  “Yes, and I need to get things in order here—to be in control without worrying about the General—before I can focus on more pressing problems with Tygon. Nothing we do here will be of any use if Trew and Danielle are dead and gone on Tygon.”

  “I thought the only reason for keeping that simulation running was so that Brandon and his people from here would have a place to exist as long as possible.”

  “That’s what I thought too, but Tygon is more important than I could have guessed.”

  “How important?”

  “It saved our species, once. Maybe it will be needed to do the same thing again.”

  61

  Brandon pushed his head back against the wall, gasping for breath as he reached for another clip of bullets tucked into his pants. The movement sent a searing pain through his ribs and up his chest.

  “Not turning out as I had expected,” he said through gritted teeth. Stone chips sprayed as gunfire ricocheted off the wall inches from his head.

  He had tracked down two Elites and followed them, hoping to take them down before they could complete their mission, which involved blowing up a city block in the shopping district during lunchtime. His intel had been wrong. Instead of being the hunter, he had turned a corner and found himself in a trap.

  Dumb luck had saved him; he’d stepped in a puddle of water and instinctively pulled back to hide around a corner. That reflex had saved him. Gunfire had erupted from those waiting in ambush, pinning him down.

  The building was large and dark, filled with so many obstacles and junk that being crushed by falling debris was almost as big a danger as being shot. One wrong move and he would be buried. Falling debris and bullets. A classic game that I haven’t played for years. It was always one of Lohkam’s favourites.

  Brandon had slowly moved around the building, shooting out lights as he went and doing his best to avoid traps while setting some of his own. Three Elites were hunting him along with twenty-two regular thugs. The game had been going on for over thirty minutes. It had taken him that long to kill the regulars. Despite the initial surprise start, everything had been going in Brandon’s favour until two minutes ago. He had finally isolated one of the Elites and managed to take them out, but not before being shot as well. The bullet had grazed his ribs. He was bleeding and starting to get dizzy. He could heal himself, but that would require all of his concentration and leave him open to attack. It would also announce his location and draw the Elites like moths to a flame.

  He hated to leave, but the smartest strategy was to escape and survive to hunt another day.

  Brandon slowed his breathing and listened, looking straight ahead at the exit door a few feet away. Sunlight shone under its edges, inviting him to open it and get away to safety, but fresh bullet holes in the middle of the door told him that they had a clear shot if he made the attempt. He shook his head as a dozen strategies flashed into his brain, all of them rejected because they would involve his demise.

  Then he heard a sound from the other side of the door, faint singing which grew in volume as the seconds passed. Soon a golden glow appeared underneath the crack in the door and brightened as the intensity of the music increased. Brandon’s vision began to blur. Did they poison me? I haven’t lost nearly enough blood to pass out yet. He fell forward, knowing that a bullet would be entering his head as he gave the enemy a target, but was unable to stop himself.

  With a start, he regained clarity and jerked himself back up . . . and found himself sitting outside.

  “What the—�
�� He scrambled to his feet and looked around. He was on a rooftop and a man stood a short distance away. Late twenties with black hair, a long black leather trench coat, and combat boots. Small round black-lensed wire-rimmed glasses covered his eyes.

  “Hello, Brandon,” the singing man said in a singsong voice, raising his right hand in greeting. Three red pop bottle caps tinkled as he waved.

  “Finally we get to meet,” Brandon brushed the dirt from his shirt. “Thanks for the help. That was a tough spot.”

  The singing man shrugged and looked down at the building across the street. “I’m certain that you would have found a different way out eventually.”

  I’m not. “Likely, but this made things easier. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You look a lot like someone else I know.”

  “Because I wear black and have these?” He tapped the red pop bottle caps on his glove.

  “I suppose.”

  The singing man laughed. “I’m not the old man from when he was younger.”

  Damn. That was my best guess. “Didn’t think so, but it seemed like a possibility.” Brandon pulled up his shirt and placed a hand over the wound. He summoned the glow and quickly healed the minor damage. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

  “You’ve seen me before, have you?” The singing man’s mouth formed a smile. “When was that?”

  “You spent a lot of time with George Knight on Earth.”

  “Yes, I did, but that wasn’t very long ago.”

  “It was from my point of view.”

  “I suppose a decade or century is still significant to you, isn’t it? How long have you lived, Brandon?”

  “I don’t know.” Brandon shrugged. “A few decades here, a few decades there. It’s not something I sit down and keep track of, really.”

  “Nor should you. The only time is now, and it’s gone as quickly as it appears. The universe is an interesting place, isn’t it?”

  “The more I experience it, the more I become uncertain about that.”

  The singing man chuckled. “That is a wise reply. You are learning much as you journey. The old man has reason to be proud of you.”

  Brandon grinned. “The old man is many things, but I doubt that proud of me is one of them.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. None of us can recall him spending as much time with a single individual as he has with you.”

  “None of us?”

  “You are playing a dangerous game with these Elites. I doubt they can plan and execute an effective strategy to defeat you, but luck is always the unknown wild card in any game. You’re tempting fate when there is no need to do so. They could have a bounce of the ball go their way and kill you. ”

  “They could, but that doesn’t frighten me. If it happens, then it does. I will deal with it and either move on or cease to exist.”

  “Dying is quite the experience, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe. I’ve mostly found that dying sends me from something familiar and comfortable into more difficult problems.”

  “Interesting. Knowledge of one’s past life adds a strange variable to the equation.”

  “Yes, it makes one less afraid.”

  “Perhaps, although fear is not so easily defeated, thank goodness.”

  “Fear destroys everything.”

  “Nothing is that simple, Brandon. I could argue that fear is the force which builds everything.”

  “You spin words with as much skill as the old man.” Brandon stood up.

  “You’re not so bad at it yourself.” The singing man laughed. “I’m just interested in hearing your thoughts on a few deep-thinking issues. A little philosophy is an effective way to know someone.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is there anything I can say or do to convince you to stop killing the Eternals?”

  “You can get them to abandon their mission to destroy Earth.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  “Fair enough.” The singing man extended one hand and traced a large triangle in the air, filling it with white light to form a portal. He turned to face Brandon. “It was good to meet you, Brandon. I wish you luck in your game. If you get into trouble again I may be able to help, but don’t rely on it.”

  “I won’t. It’s a shame we couldn’t speak longer. I have many questions for you.”

  “We will meet again. Of that, I am certain.” The singing man turned and stepped into the doorway.

  Brandon stood and looked down at the warehouse. “Back to work. I should have these Elites all killed within a couple months.” He flew to the warehouse rooftop and climbed into a window to resume his hunting.

  62

  Preparations are in full swing as Tygon prepares to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the Game.

  Tune in to Channel Fifty where we will devote our time to looking back and celebrating the past half-century as we meet with top players both past and present to talk about some of the more memorable moments throughout the Game’s history. I won’t spoil any of the surprises that we have in store, but trust me when I say that you will not want to miss a single moment of the next few months as we approach the special date.

  It has also been confirmed that everyone’s current favourite player, Addisyn Strayne, and her two famous parents will be joining us as time permits between her plays. As many of you know, Addisyn has completed the most thrilling play of her career just yesterday morning. We will interview her tomorrow and talk about some of the highlights, of which there are many. I remember talking with Addisyn before she entered the Game for her first time and I find it hard to believe that ten years have passed since that day. She is now one of the top players in the world, but how can that surprise any of us considering who her parents are. We can’t wait to talk with you tomorrow, Addy.

  Stay tuned for local news for the newest updates on Elite terrorist attacks and activities in just a few moments.

  I’m Lisa Rohansen.

  Danielle and Trew sat in the back of the limousine and looked out the window, occasionally glancing across at their daughter. Neither parent spoke; both of them understood how traumatic it could be to come back from a play.

  She turns fifteen in just a few weeks, Trew thought. Time certainly does fly by. Already she is playing as human avatars. Did I look so young back then? Is she okay?

  “I’m okay,” Addisyn said, looking at her hands.

  “Good,” Danni said.

  “I’m glad.” Trew leaned forward to pat his daughter’s knee. “We’re glad to have you back, Kilobyte.”

  Addisyn pursed her lips and smiled. “Thanks, Dad, I’m glad to be home too.”

  Trew nodded and leaned back to look out of the car window again. Danni put her hand on his neck and squeezed. Both of them remembered returning from the Game; dying and waking up to find that their lifetime hadn’t been real, that it was only a playing session in a virtual reality game. Some kids shook it off and returned to their normal lives until it was time to play again. The best players never seemed to recover as easily. It wasn’t until Trew was seventeen, almost done playing the Game, that he could put his past life in a safe spot and live real life normally after only a few hours of returning. Danni had been the same way. Both knew that Addisyn would get better at shaking it off—she was doing better every time—but it would still take a while to master.

  “Did you watch any of my play?” Addisyn asked.

  “No,” both parents said as one. It was common for most parents who were veterans of the Game to avoid watching their own children play.

  “We didn’t watch your play, sweetheart,” Trew said, “but it’s clear that something happened. We love and support you, and will do anything we can to help you.”

  “Thanks.” Addisyn bit her lip and looked out the window. A tear trickled down her cheek.

  “We do follow your score and rank,” Danni said. “A perk of being so close to Sylvia is that
we get your standings quicker than most.”

  “Yeah.” Addisyn rested her head against the window.

  “You really jumped in the rankings.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It is.” Trew was glad that their wealth could relieve some pressure from his daughter. When he had been an orphan struggling to keep a roof over his head and food in his belly, the added pressure of standings and rank had been enormously stressful. Much of his time——too much——had been filled with concern that he might not have enough points to re-enter the Game, that his life would go from luxury and celebrity to living in the public school system filled with hunger and manual labour. He was pleased that Addisyn would never need to worry about such a thing. “The major networks want to interview you as soon as possible.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “No,” Danni said, “but your fans will be happy if you do.”

  “Okay.”

  “Only if you want to, Addy.” Trew heard the tone in her voice. “If you want to wait for a few days before, that’s okay, too.”

  “No.” She shook her head and smiled. “It will be best if I do it sooner than later. That way I can give them the best show and also put it behind me.”

  Something big happened. Maybe it’s better if we find out what it was this time. He looked at Danni and she nodded as if reading his thoughts.

  “It’s different in there,” Addisyn said. “Almost identical to life on Tygon.”

  “At this stage of the Game, yes. Technology has caught up to Tygon’s.”

  “She told me to tell the both of you that she said hi.”

  The tone of her voice made Trew’s blood run cold. A tingling sensation crept over his skin. “Who told you to say hi to us?”

  “Stephanie.”

  Danni gasped and put her hand to her throat.

  “When did you see Stephanie?”

  “During my last play.”

  “How old were you?” Danni asked.