He faked a minor coughing fit to cover the startled gasp that had escaped his mouth and settled himself back in his chair. Did Spiralwerks really need this meeting room theme now that they‘d stumbled into, and were losing at, a real-world game of global domination? The Holy Order seemed to have achieved the upper hand before Arty even knew that Spiralwerks were playing. One false step and they could be crushed out of existence.
Unless this strategy meeting proved effective. That’s what these talks were intended to avoid. Here he was, Field Marshal Artica Kronkite, with his general, Carl Stedman, talking tactics with potential comrades, the co-founders of Cerberus, the company behind Gogmagog. Carl leaned forward in his seat, eyes narrowed, listening to Max articulate the technical details of the software at machine-gun speed.
“It’s takes all of those inputs — forum posts, tweets, Facebook status updates, photos, video feeds — and runs them through hundreds of proprietary semantic analysis algorithms, which compute the probability of danger for every set of related artefacts. Most clients don’t tweak the algorithms, though you have the ability to. We’ve refined the machine learning software to such a degree that the automatic tweaks it makes are far superior to manual ones.”
“If we did install Gogmagog, we’d want full control over the algorithms. I’d want to know how the software works, down to the smallest level of detail.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, Carl, full training would be provided.”
As Arty listened to the pitch, the tension in his stomach abated somewhat. He couldn’t help but be impressed by these guys. Barely twenty years old, the two of them had dropped out of university to run their business a matter of months ago and had already taken calls from Downing Street and the Pentagon. They looked every part the hipster founders with their long, manicured beards, the matching caps sporting the Gogmagog logo, and the expensive tweed jackets. Max, who was six foot six, did most of the talking, while the diminutive Maurice interjected the occasional sage contribution.
“After what we saw here on New Year’s Eve, we’re sold on the computational aspect of the software,” Carl said, to enthusiastic nods from Arty. “But there are two questions in my mind. The first regards the attacks that evening that were successful. The three people who did die. I appreciate that Gogmagog can’t be everywhere, and analyse everything at all times … but do you know why it failed to prevent those attacks?”
The critical alert received by Nova and Burner on New Year’s Eve, and the subsequent analysis by MI6 and the FBI, had prevented seven of the twelve attempted attacks. But the other five had gone ahead as planned, targeting high-level employees at three tech companies, and a couple of US politicians.
Unsurprisingly, the press about the attacks had led to a surge of interest in the anti-terrorist preventative technology offered by companies like Cerberus. The topic of coveillance, where the public work in conjunction with the authorities on matters of national and international security, was trending everywhere, lauded by some, vilified by others.
“There’s a clear reason why we chose a three-headed beast for our company mascot: it’s a reminder to us all that many heads are better than one. Clichéd as that may be, it’s also true. The times when national security forces could work alone, without public input and consent, are over. ‘Input’ is the crucial word here. The software is only as good as the amount of information being fed into it.”
“We need more heads, so to speak,” Maurice added.
“If more people had been using Gogmagog before the New Year, some of those attacks could have been averted too. It tears me up that it’s taken something like this to garner so much interest in our work … but it’s clear how important this type of technology is, and how companies like yours stand to benefit.”
“That brings me to my second question. I get that the results are directly proportional to the amount of information being fed in.” Carl motioned to the sales literature adorning the smartwalls of the meeting room. “But the more information we feed it, the more servers we need to bring online, the higher our costs. And the kind of costs you’re talking about amount to a serious proportion of our annual IT spend. Those heads don’t eat for free.”
Max launched into what sounded like a well-rehearsed comeback about the value of life and liberty versus that of cash money, but Arty could barely concentrate. The same thought that had been plaguing him since the start of Solarversia was back. Why were Spiralwerks at the top of the Order’s corporate hit list? Why them and not one of the hundreds of other companies investing heavily in technology? After all was said and done, and though he’d never admit to this heresy in public, Solarversia was just a game. The attacks frightened and worried him. He only hoped that MI6 were getting somewhere with the captured cult members, before the Order could strike again.
***
Nova waited for Charlie to fall asleep on her bed before she traced the stars of the newest constellation. When the face of the Corona Cube became transparent, her display indicated that she should grab hold of the nearest vine and swing from one to the next to traverse the length of the Magisterial Chamber.
She came to rest in the southwest corner where Gorigaroo usually resided. He wasn’t there, but the surface of his gong had transformed into a screen, and on it a thick, lush jungle came into view. Hoots and calls were heard as the picture moved through a web of leaves and vines before coming to rest on a caterpillar, perched on a wiry branch. The caterpillar stopped munching on his leaf and turned to address the group of players who were watching him.
“Once upon a time, in the tropical rainforests of Nakk-oo, an almighty commotion caused the animals to stop what they were doing and seek out the source of the upheaval. A crowd assembled between trunks and branches to see what had appeared. In the middle of the throng, leaning against dense, tangled vegetation, was a shiny golden disc, shoulder-high to an antelope. Nobody could agree on who had discovered it, quite what it was or who it belonged to. At the anteater’s last count, seventeen different species had claimed it belonged to them, and the number was rising by the hour. The one thing every animal could agree on was that such a magnificent object would certainly possess magical properties and bring great fortune to whoever owned it.
“The tigers, who everyone knew were the handsomest animals in the kingdom, claimed that the god of beauty had left it there for them, so that they could admire their looks in its reflective surface all day long. ‘Just look at our beautiful coats, the symmetry of our patterns and the way our green eyes twinkle in the disc. Qetesh the Sacred works in weird and wonderful ways. He must have sent us this hallowed mirror from the Promised Land.’
“‘Enough of your conceited nonsense,’ piped the parakeets. ‘It looks just like the Sun, that’s plain for all to see. As the guardians of the sky and the ring bearers of heaven, Krakatoa the Boundless, god of Sun and stars, would have left it here for us as thanks for our tireless service in Her realm all these years.’
“Just as another argument broke out, an elephant approached the disc and struck it with his powerful tusks. ‘Hear me now,’ cried the elephant. ‘Everyone knows that we are the most musical animals in the kingdom. You can hear the call of our trumpets from one side of the jungle to the other. Listen to how the disc vibrates when I strike it — you will never find a more perfect accompaniment to our music. Belvedere the Harmonious has surely answered our humble prayers by giving us this instrument to play.’
“After endless hours of bickering, the animals could agree on one thing only — that a competition was the fairest way to decide ownership of the disc.
“‘It should be a short race across the plains,’ the cheetah said. ‘The first animal to cross the finishing line will win the golden saucer.’
“‘We agree that it should be a race,’ the horse said slowly, ‘but let us run over a long distance. The competition needs to be worthy of the prize, and not one that ends so soon after it has started.’
“‘Of course you’v
e both suggested races, you’re the fastest animals in the kingdom,’ said the Petrifier. ‘But the disc looks heavy. This should be a competition of strength, not speed, for the victors must be able to take their prize with them when they win.’
“And so the discussion continued. It wasn’t until evening fell that the animals, tired of their quarrelling, decided to ask the opinion of the Waterfall of Wisdom, an ancient being known for her impartial point of view. Every species delegated a member to represent them in the matter, and all the chosen animals travelled together through the dark green jungle, taking it in turns to carry the yellow enigma upon their backs, in their beaks, or over their heads.
“Arriving at the waterfall, they hurriedly related the story of the disc, each species once again articulating their own worthiness.
“‘An interesting find,’ the waterfall burbled. ‘Leave the disc behind my falls this eve. Allow me to meditate on its secrets overnight. I shall give you my answer tomorrow.’
“Content with her response and worn out from the day’s drama, the animals quickly fell asleep around the edge of her pool. Dreams came, of circles and spheres, of suns and stars, of music and mirrors. In the morning, the waterfall delivered her verdict, just as she had promised. Her falls parted like velvet curtains, revealing the disc resting against a ledge of rock. It twinkled as it reflected the turquoise water in her pool, rendering it more beautiful than any of them had remembered.
“‘The disc you have brought before me is very special indeed. It contains secrets that haven’t been spoken of in centuries. It comprehends mysteries beyond the mind. Creatures have died for it. Young have been born on it. And poets have gone mad trying to chronicle its infinite nature. It is priceless beyond word, enchanting beyond thought, ancient beyond time.’
“On hearing this, the animals leaned in closer, enraptured by what they were hearing.
“‘Because of the disc’s inordinate value, the law of the jungle dictates that it cannot be owned by a single species. And yet a competition to divine a deserving owner is befitting of the prize. I therefore propose a competition that requires each animal to form a pair with a beast of a different kind. The victorious duo will make arrangements to share ownership of the disc afterwards. Cast thy berries into my waters so that I may know your thoughts.’
“Standing at the edge of the pool, each animal cast a berry into the water: green if they agreed with the proposal, red if they did not, and a thorn if they were unsure, for that was the way of the jungle. Dozens of berries flew through the air, plopped into the pool, and descended to the bottom. When the last one had settled, the waterfall spoke again.
“‘My waters are mostly green. The majority have decreed we continue.’ The curtains of water closed once more and the disc was hidden. ‘The disc was found in the jungle. As such, the competition must take place in the jungle. Stay by my waters another night, and when you wake tomorrow, the disc will be gone from my safekeeping. It will manifest elsewhere in the jungle. To win the race, and ownership of the disc, you and your teammate must be the first to find it. Thus speaks the Waterfall of Wisdom.’
“This latest pronouncement was met with lots of murmuring as the animals sought to untangle its implications. They spent the rest of the day in a frenzy of politics, trying to pair themselves, blindly stabbing for strategy in an exercise that saw plenty of boasts and just as many put-downs. When the cockerel crowed at dawn the next day, his partner the hare scampered behind the falls and saw that the disc was gone. Soon all the animals were awake, and the strangest hunt in the history of the jungle began.
“Some animals believed that the Obarian and the leopard would be the ones to win, so well did they seem to complement each other’s abilities. But they turned out to be as stubborn as they were speedy, and argued more than they searched. Others thought the Huntropellimous and the squirrel might end up triumphant, and when the squirrel was seen bolting back to the waterfall with a smile on her face, many thought the competition would soon be over. But to everyone’s delight, the squirrel had merely remembered where she’d hidden a supply of nuts.
“All day the animals roamed in their pairs over the jungle. The dolphin scoured the river while the parrot searched from the sky. But it was two landlubbers who found the golden disc, hanging from the branch of a monkey puzzle tree, sparkling and resplendent in the sun. The gorilla and the kangaroo — a pair in whom nobody had invested much hope.
“It turned out that the victors had worked together with great camaraderie. In the clearings of the jungle, the gorilla had clambered on to the kangaroo’s back and, clasping his legs tightly round his partner’s shoulders, the two had hopped as one. When the jungle floor was dense and impassable, the kangaroo had clung to the gorilla’s waist, and together they’d swung from the branches and dangled from vines. Where the jungle was neither clear nor dense, they separated a distance and combed the vegetation in a deliberate and methodical manner.
“Folklore has it that the golden disc was magical and could grant its owner a wish. The gorilla and the kangaroo had to share the wish between them. Here their partnership continued. Rather than argue and squabble over what they desired, they made a wish to be united forever. In the ultimate act of synthesis, the gorilla and the kangaroo became one: the Gorigaroo. And what became of the disc? Why, you know it well, it’s Gorigaroo’s gong. When he strikes it with the club he carries in his pouch, the sound is a reminder of their teamwork that day. We remember that when we come together as one, we can achieve great things.”
Nova finished the tour and gazed at Charlie as he slept. If she hadn’t taken his advice to choose ‘black’ in the Minority Winners round, she’d be deader than dead right now, lying in a pool of avatar blood somewhere in the Decision Dome.
She kissed his forehead and quietly thanked him for his help. It dawned on her that he was only one of many people who had helped her get this far. Burner, Jono and the Solar Soc crew had all played their part. Even Computer Sushi, in her own way, by calling her stubborn in front of Charlie, and making her self-conscious about being so.
She gently lowered her head onto Charlie’s chest, closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment for what it was. And when she fell asleep soon after, she dreamed of circles and spheres, of suns and stars, of music and mirrors, and of the teamwork that lay ahead.
Chapter Forty
Nova felt a chill go down her spine as the Huntropellimous charged at her. She remembered the horribly violent way she’d lost her second life after teleporting to the wrong destination with Burner and Pedro. Would another death at the hands — or, in this case, the freakishly mutilated claws — of these deranged scorpions signal her exit from Solarversia in the second of the final rounds?
She looked down at the Sword of Sadism clenched tight in her fists. The jewels in its long, curling grip sparkled, while the polished edge of its blade reflected the monster clattering towards her. She slid her thumb over the dark blue sapphire to activate it and hoped to high hell that she remembered the only combination of moves that would save her life.
The second round had started two hours previously in a more tranquil setting — Pluto’s Portal of Promise, the same place she’d been all week since completing the epic skydive. The core of the planet had been hollowed out into a sphere whose surface sparkled like plasma, similar to the walls of the Corona Cube.
She’d been there with the 500,000 other players who had survived the first round, gently floating and frolicking in zero-g until the Portal had been switched on. It had started with a distant hum, like a vacuum cleaner being used in a nearby room, and had got progressively louder until the plasma patterns on the wall convulsed in an angry, moody dance. Blue sparks leapt off the surface, zapping players out of existence.
One second Nova was drifting about the portal in peace, the next she was hurtling through a cosmic wormhole dug out of hyperspace. She landed with a bump in a crumpled heap, brushed herself down, got back up and took a moment to get her bearings. She’d a
rrived in a small cubic room whose walls were adorned with pictures. Puzzles. Her hands tingled with excitement. If the Science of Solarversia hadn’t demanded a balanced diet, she’d be doing them all day, every day. Hopefully the round was full of them. One thing was guaranteed — she’d need to be on top of her game. Where the previous round had wiped out half of Solarversia’s population, this round would deplete it a further eighty percent.
“Greetings, second-round players.”
It took her a second or two to locate the source of Arkwal’s voice. Looking up, she found that the ceiling had turned transparent, affording a view of Castalia’s Magisterial Chamber where all the entourage were present, including a re-stitched Ludi Bioski.
“You might find the view a little strange. Although you’re looking up, through the ceiling, you see us in the Magisterial Chamber from a side-on perspective. That’s because you’re standing on the northern wall of the Chamber in one of the four corner cubes of the Player’s Grid. In this round, called Race to the Origin, you get to play the grid itself. Although you can’t see them — the cubes are phased zones — there are 125,000 other players in the cube with you, a quarter of the players who have made it this far. Although you’re all familiar with how Puzzles work, let’s look at how to use them to navigate the grid. Please turn to face the painting of the Mona Lisa. You’ll notice something strange about her smile — something stranger than usual. Her mouth is upside down. Please approach the painting and rotate her mouth through 180 degrees. Chop chop, we don’t have all day.”
Nova rotated the mouth using her finger and the Solarversia jingle sounded. The wall that had been displaying the painting disappeared, revealing the cube next to hers in a clockwise direction. After five seconds the wall reappeared, once again enclosing her within the corner cube.
“Now face the adjacent wall. It contains a sixteen-square slide puzzle of a famous photo. Because you’re in training mode, a series of arrows will guide you through the correct moves. They won’t be there when the game begins, and neither will the instructions for any Combinations you’re asked to execute.”
Solarversia: The Year Long Game Page 34