One Life Remaining (Portal Book 2)

by Mark J Maxwell

  ‘Did you create the clan’s realm in Multiverse too?’ Drew asked.

  Jamie nodded.

  ‘But you don’t know anything about the bombing, or what the clan are planning to do next?’

  ‘No. The clan is autonomous. Since I set it up I’ve had no involvement with it, or its members.’

  Drew shook his head. ‘I don’t believe you. The Sons of Babel’s realm isn’t normal within the bounds of Multiverse. GCHQ tells me it includes a sophisticated messaging system specifically designed to prevent the interception of communications. Then there are the clan’s anti-Portal activities. Two clan members broke into a Portal server farm. You’ve been targeting Portal for months now.’

  ‘I admit I put the clan together to bring Portal down. But not in the way you think. The clan was supposed to hack into Portal and introduce a vulnerability. An exploit that could be used to extract data from Portal subnets. They were supposed to instigate another leak.’

  Drew spread his hands. ‘Then why did the clan bomb the Portal headquarters? The idea didn’t spontaneously come to them during a Multiverse match. They must have had direction.’

  ‘They didn’t need direction. That was the whole point. I knew they’d take action against Portal, but they weren’t supposed to go this far. None of the simulations gave any hint they’d take it so far.’

  ‘Simulations?’ Drew frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Jamie paused, collecting his thoughts. ‘Do you know why Multiverse is the highest grossing franchise in gaming history?’

  Drew shrugged. ‘Advertising?’

  ‘Mostly, yes. Multiverse has the single highest advertising to sales conversion ratio across any entertainment medium.’

  ‘That’s always puzzled me,’ Louisa said. ‘You can’t buy anything in Multiverse. How do you know the adverts induce players to purchase products once they’ve jacked out?’

  ‘We created our own unique advertising model,’ Jamie replied. ‘Multiverse identifies players who have the potential to purchase certain products. We then contact the manufacturers and offer to promote their products to these players. Prior to the advertising run a baseline for product sales is established for each of these players using sales metrics as reported by Portal. During the run, Multiverse takes a cut of the above-baseline profits generated from sales to each of the targeted players. Its win-win for the sellers. It costs them nothing, and they only hand over a portion of profit increases while our advertising is in place.’

  ‘Very interesting,’ Drew said in a tone that implied the exact opposite. ‘What does this have to do with the clan?’

  ‘I’m getting around to that,’ Jamie snapped. ‘Multiverse is a gaming framework. Anyone can code a mod. When it’s incorporated into the framework we merge our own custom algorithms with the mod’s core rules. We add all the little side quests and oddities, which make the game appear more realistic to the player. They mirror choices a player makes in real life. Whether to help the vulnerable or take advantage of them, whether to commit a crime or pursue justice, how the player reacts to traumatic events like loss or personal violence. Every action the player undertakes in Multiverse is recorded. From these measurements we determine a range of psychological constructs for each player. These constructs include personality definitions, moral underpinnings, emotional maturity and even cognitive capacities. If the players spend long enough on Multiverse we can extrapolate a complete psychometric profile from their behaviour.’

  ‘I’m aware of psychological profiling techniques,’ Drew said. ‘They need to be carried out by qualified professionals in a controlled environment. What you’re describing doesn’t sound like it could generate very accurate results.’

  ‘On the contrary. It’s proven to be very accurate. To the players, the measurements are part of the personal, tailored approach to gaming that makes Multiverse unique. The more they play, the more Multiverse analyses them and refines their profiles. Players have no idea they’re being monitored, and as such react honestly to events within the game.’

  Louisa thought back to the times she was a spectator in Charlie’s matches. On occasions the game threw a scenario at him, which had no apparent bearing on the game’s goal. Multiverse had been scrutinising his actions and determining his psychological makeup. In a way, Multiverse was a much bigger invasion of privacy than Portal had ever been. ‘What do you do with these metrics?’

  ‘We build a personality construct, or a character template as it’s known, for each player. This template is then fed into an environment simulator that runs through hundreds of thousands of scenarios in order to match players to sub quests. Identifying consumer products which appeal to players was a by-product of the same research. From the player’s template we can predict the games they like to play, what type of food they like, what screencasts or movies they’ll want to watch.’ Jamie took a breath. ‘And it’s how I was able to recruit players for the Sons of Babel.’ He frowned. ‘Although I didn’t give the clan that name originally. It was changed later.’

  ‘You recruited the members using their character templates?’ Drew still didn’t sound convinced.

  Jamie nodded. ‘I configured a sub quest myself and ran it against every template in our player database. The simulator decided which players were the best fit for the scenario.’

  ‘You’re saying you used these personality constructs to identify potential terrorists?’ Drew asked.

  ‘Stop putting words in my mouth.’ Jamie glared at Drew. ‘I said no such thing. The scenario I created had nothing to do with terrorism. No one died and no one blew themselves up. In my sub quest the player was part of an elite hacking collective tasked with disrupting Portal. The players didn’t even meet face to face in the simulation. They coordinated their attacks on Portal using the clan’s realm.’

  Jamie glanced over at his brief, who nodded encouragingly.

  ‘It sounds to me like you formed your own terrorist cell from Multiverse’s most disaffected players.’ Drew shook his head. ‘What I’m having trouble comprehending, Mr Godfrey, is that as intelligent as you appear to be, you didn’t see the Portal attack coming.’

  ‘I didn’t need to see anything. I ran countless simulations, both against the candidates individually and as a group. They gravitated toward taking action against Portal, but those actions never amounted to anything more than hacking and denial of service attacks.’

  ‘Well, you’re simulations were wrong.’ Drew tapped on his terminal and presented it to Jamie. On the screen were the profile pictures and names of each of the clan members. ‘Where is the clan now, Mr Godfrey?’

  ‘I...don’t...know.’ Jamie spat out each of the words.

  ‘What about your simulations? If they’re so accurate can’t they predict where the clan might be holed up?’

  ‘The simulations are purely that, simulations! I can’t read their minds.’ He glanced down at the screen, then frowned. ‘Wait, who’s this guy?’

  ‘Who do you mean?’

  ‘Benjamin Kingston. I never sent him a clan invite.’

  ‘Then how did he become a member?’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘Beats me.’

  Drew’s eyes were lowered. He was thinking through the implications, as was Louisa. Who sent Ben the invite? Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapping on the door. One of Drew’s NCA officers stepped inside. He jerked his head at Drew.

  ‘Mr Godfrey,’ Drew said, ‘I’m suspending your interview at this stage.’

  ‘What happens now?’ Jamie asked. ‘Can I go home?’

  Drew glanced at Louisa, his face unreadable. He stood and left the room. Jamie’s turned to his brief. Mathews twiddled the stylus between his fingers, unwilling to look at his client. Even if Jamie had told the truth, he wouldn’t be leaving the NCA’s custody any time soon. Technically he was still a clan member, and since he’d been arrested under the Terrorism Act he could be held for up to fourteen days without charge.

  ‘Officer Carter will
let you know in due course, Mr Godfrey,’ Louisa said.

  Outside, Drew and his colleague were standing a little ways down the corridor, heads together and voices lowered. Drew had his back to her. The other officer looked up and met her eyes. Drew turned. Now both men were staring at her. Her scalp itched. This time it had nothing to do with her implants.

  ‘What is it?’ Louisa asked.

  ‘GCHQ produced a match for one of the clan. A man has been found unconscious in Hyde Park. He was ID’d by the paramedics.’

  Louisa swallowed. ‘Is it Ben?’

  Drew nodded. ‘He’s on route to the hospital now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A sealed rectangular tent constructed from transparent plastic sheeting encapsulated the hospital bed. A nurse stepped into one of the six open-backed suits built into the tent’s walls. She attached sticky pads to Ben’s wrists, ankles and chest and slid a pulse monitor onto his finger.

  ‘Is this really necessary?’ Louisa nodded at the screen showing sense footage of the isolation unit.

  Dr Perrott stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back. ‘Whenever a patient is admitted to this ward certain protocols have to be followed. It’s hospital policy.’

  Dr Perrott, a consultant neurologist at the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, had taken charge of Ben’s treatment. The isolation unit was normally used to treat patients with highly infectious diseases, such as Ebola. Cut off from the rest of the hospital, it was the most isolated hospital ward in the city, and hence the most secure.

  ‘When can we activate the isolation field?’ Drew asked.

  ‘As soon as the pulse-ox and EKG are in place,’ Dr Perrott replied.

  ‘And it will neutralise Portal within the unit?’

  ‘It will affect the entire room, including sense strips. The field generator is built into the walls. A video camera attached to the bed frame will become the only means of viewing the patient.’

  Cutting off Ben’s network access had been Drew’s idea. The doctor had scoffed at the suggestion it could improve Ben’s condition, although he grudgingly acceded to Drew’s request. Louisa was willing to try anything. Especially since the numerous doctors she’d spoken to hadn’t a clue what was wrong with him. Not that they’d admit it.

  No evidence of any physical damage to Ben’s brain had been found. A radio tracer introduced into his bloodstream during a PET scan confirmed glucose metabolism, which was an indicator of brain activity. It indicated his brain stem still functioned, which explained why Ben could still breathe unaided. However, Dr Perrott remained most concerned with the neural activity outside Ben’s brain stem. It was well below normal levels for someone supposedly in a coma. The doctor said it was like someone had switched off the majority of his brain.

  Louisa remained hopeful Drew’s suggestion might have an effect. According to Tom Shrewsbury Ben was jacked in to Multiverse, and under full immersion. Even though Ben wasn’t playing a game, a vast quantity of encrypted data was flowing between his profile and the clan’s realm. Neither GCHQ nor Portal had any inkling as to its purpose, other than to suggest it could be linked to his coma.

  She’d been grateful for Drew’s presence when the doctor briefed her on Ben’s condition. Drew had been the one asking the pertinent questions. She just stood there, barely able to speak. When she saw Ben unconscious on the sense footage all rational thought fled. And for some reason, the lack of physical proximity made it harder to accept Ben really was lying on the other side of the ward’s security doors, barely twelve feet away. It wasn’t fair. She’d got what she wanted. She had Ben back, and now they were telling her he might not survive the night. She bit her top lip. It’s not fair!

  Dr Perrott touched a panel beside the screen. ‘Vitals are coming through now. I think we’re ready to proceed.’ He faced Drew and Louisa. ‘Shall we?’

  Drew glanced at Louisa, then gave Dr Perrott a nod. The doctor tapped the panel. A red rectangle pulsed. The view screen winked out. In its place a smaller window appeared. A camera looking down onto Ben from above.

  The doctor nodded. ‘All good so―’

  A frantic beeping came from the panel.

  Louisa’s chest constricted. ‘What is it?’

  ‘His pulse is slowing,’ Dr Perrott said. ‘His respiration rate’s dropping too.’ He tapped the panel. ‘Get him intubated.’

  Two nurses: a man and woman, stepped into the unit’s suits, the male nurse behind Ben’s head and the woman to his side. The man picked up a laryngoscope from a tray and inserted it into Ben’s mouth while the female nurse started up a ventilator. She unhooked a thin plastic tube from the machine and handed it to her colleague.

  Another alarm sounded.

  ‘He’s in VF,’ Dr Perrott said.

  ‘Kill the field,’ Louisa said.

  The doctor frowned at her. ‘What?’

  ‘The electromagnetic field. Turn it off!’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Do it, Doctor!’ Drew’s tone didn’t brook further discussion.

  Dr Perrott tapped the screen and the red rectangle vanished. The female nurse stood ready with paddles she’d detached from a defibrillator. Her colleague peeled strips off their bases. She placed them on Ben’s chest.

  ‘Hold off on the D-Fib,’ Dr Perrott said.

  The female nurse froze. She looked questioningly up at the camera.

  ‘His rhythm’s settling.’ Dr Perrott said. ‘He’s stabilised, but leave him ventilated.’

  ‘What happened?’ Drew asked.

  ‘I’ll have to conduct an EEG. It’s possible his brain stem suffered a loss of function.’

  ‘Why would cutting him off from Portal cause his brain stem to shut down?’ Louisa asked.

  ‘That hasn’t been confirmed as the cause yet,’ Dr Perrott said.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Louisa pointed at the screen. ‘As soon as you activated the field he got worse.’

  ‘It may have been coincidental. The root cause of the patient’s condition has yet to be determined. The suite of tests I ordered still hasn’t come back from the lab. We can’t jump to conclusions based on one particular incident. ‘

  Louisa turned to Drew. ‘We should make sure GCHQ maintains Ben’s connection to Multiverse.’ She eyed the doctor. ‘Just in case.’

  Drew nodded. ‘I’ll call them now.’ He moved down the corridor and touched his ear. An unnecessary motion when using implants, but for some a force of habit.

  ‘Ah,’ Dr Perrott said, ‘the toxicology results have come through.’ The doctor’s eyes panned up and down. Occasionally he nodded to himself.

  ‘And?’ she asked.

  ‘The patent has tested positive for trance. An extremely large quantity, too. I’m surprised he’s still alive.’

  Louisa shook her head. ‘You must have made a mistake.’

  The doctor raised his chin. ‘There’s no mistake. Do you know if the patient has a history of substance abuse?’

  ‘He’s used it in the past,’ Louisa admitted, ‘but that was years ago. It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘We still don’t fully understand how trance interferes with an addict’s brain. There’s a whole ward full of trance addicts downstairs. They’re all suffering various degrees of brain dysfunction.’

  ‘Do any of them have the same symptoms as Ben?’

  ‘Not exactly the same symptoms. Perhaps he’s ingested something new. Every week a new trance derivative appears, often mixed with other narcotics or poisons, and many of those who take them invariably end up here.’

  ‘That’s good though, isn’t it? You can treat someone who’s overdosed on trance?’

  ‘Up to a point. We sedate them and let the trance levels in their systems dissipate of their own accord.’

  ‘And they recover afterwards?’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘Some do. Some don’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to arrange the EEG.’ The doctor entered the ward through a double set of sliding doors. He’d
refused to let her or Drew inside. His protocols, again. Unlike the doctor, Louisa wasn’t prepared to write off Ben as another trance addict. She accessed the clan’s case file and navigated to the entry for Henry Booth. His autopsy results were attached. She scrolled to the toxicology report. Samples of Booth’s blood had tested positive for trance. She checked Baker’s autopsy. It was the same. High levels of trance in his bloodstream.

  Was this how Harrow asserted control over the clan? Trance addicts were susceptible to suggestion. Henry Booth might not have been in his right mind when he carried out the bombing. Then Louisa remembered what Simon had told her about Harrow’s research project for Portal.

  Harrow was using trance on his test subjects.

  Were Ben and Henry test subjects? And if so, what was Harrow doing to them? Simon said Harrow was using optogenetics to activate neurons in his subjects’ brains. Could that be why Ben’s in a coma?

  Drew rejoined her. ‘We have a situation. The Lord Mayor is opening a new Crossrail station at Victoria today. There have been reports of shots fired. Victoria is being evacuated and SCO19 is on route. The Lord Mayor and three of his entourage are unaccounted for.’

  ‘Is it the clan?’

  Drew nodded. ‘They’ve claimed responsibility via their profile extension. We have to assume the clan has taken the Lord Mayor hostage.’

  ‘Have they issued any demands?’

  ‘No, but they’ve released another statement. Nonsense for the most part. They did, however, mention White Hat again.’

  ‘Really?’ Louisa tried her best to sound normal, even though her stomach was turning somersaults. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They want him to come forth and reveal himself.’ Drew shook his head, then his expression softened. ‘I’m heading down to meet SCO19. You should stay here with Ben. As soon as I know anything I’ll let you know. I promise.’

  Louisa nodded her thanks. Drew gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and headed for the lift. With all that had happened she’d had little time to consider Baker’s request to contact Adam. It seemed Harrow hadn’t given up. But what did he want with Adam? And why didn’t he use Adam’s real name?