Earth's Gambit (The Gam3 Book 2)

by Cosimo Yap

  Alan’s palms began to itch. Who was the entity that provided him with the Data Interaction ability? What were they?

  “But, isn’t there a hacking ability in-game? Why would it be an ability in-game?” Alan asked.

  “You can use the Game’s version of hacking, though it’s considered a crime in many areas. But you can’t hack the Game. That is a different level of sacrilege. Breaking that rule can get you erased from existence. Do you not know anything?”

  Alan looked at Wraith blankly.

  Wraith sighed. A projected image appeared on a screen. “There are three layers to what you call reality. What you might call real life, where your physical capsule is located, is the first layer.”

  An image of a room appeared, with a figure climbing into a capsule.

  “The next layer is what most people refer to as the Game. We’re there right now.”

  A video feed of where they stood appeared.

  “The third layer is what many call Cyberspace. It’s where you go when you enter a capsule in-game. Your Home, the Arcade, and the Market, that’s all Administrator-controlled Cyberspace. Electronic devices, servers in-game, they all are connected to some aspect of Cyberspace. It’s where the overhead lives.”

  The video feed showed the figure getting into another capsule. The three layers were displayed in conjunction. Reality. The Game. Cyberspace.

  “Now, when anyone says hacking, and I mean anyone but you species new to the Game, they mean entering Cyberspace and messing with things there,” Wraith said. “Hacking is like…well, it’s best experienced.” He pointed at another helmet lying on a table. “Let’s have a demonstration.”

  Alan put on the helmet, a grey screen encompassing all his vision. A message appeared:

  Activate Mental Hack?

  Yes

  No

  Oh, so that’s what that ability does, Alan thought.

  I am uncertain if we should proceed, Eve sent. I have avoided bringing up this ability, because even though it is part of the Game, many aspects are illegal. Any attempt to hack an Administrator will be severely punished, and mental hacks are considered physical attacks in the Game.

  Wait, so you knew all of this, the distinction between Cyberspace, the Game, and reality, and didn’t mention anything to me? Alan asked.

  I thought that the wisest decision, Eve sent. I anticipate that you will perform an illegal action in the future, and will regret choosing to pursue this ability.

  This is my character, Alan sent. He activated mental hack.

  A connection formed in Alan’s mind. It was like he had entered a capsule. Except, unlike when he was normally within the Game, where he controlled his body, he now had a sort of top down, all-encompassing view that he could zoom in and out of. The experience was disorienting.

  Alan’s perspective shifted, and he found himself hovering above a green control point, behind a wall of stone that had a line of what looked like knights defending it.

  “Here’s a basic scenario,” Wraith said.

  “Wait, isn’t hacking like programming and using the command line to do what you want on a computer?” Alan asked.

  “Maybe on the world you’re from you can work with a touch-based interface—but what you consider computers or programs have evolved to the point that the only way us dumb bags of flesh can begin to decipher the mess of data effectively is with visual representations like this linked with feeds directly into our brains,” Wraith said. “Plus, it’s fun.”

  Alan paused. Hacking, which as far as he could tell was the Game’s equivalent to lock picking, was a real-time strategy mini-game. He could work with that.

  “So I just order the swordsmen about?”

  “Sure, try it out.”

  Alan directed all the swordsmen to exit through a gate. It slowly opened at his command. His vision was still mostly filled with a dense, grey fog that extended out in every direction, but as his swordsmen, his units, began advancing forward, they gave him more vision. A wall was spotted in the distance. Alan ordered his swordsmen to attack the wall. They slowly walked over to the wall and began banging against it with metal swords.

  A whistling sound was heard, and Alan looked up. Something was falling from the sky; he couldn’t quite get a good look at it before—

  BOOM. There was a massive explosion, and his swordsmen were nuked out of existence—a smoldering blast zone was all that was left. The wall, which slowly faded from view, looked as pristine as ever.

  “And there you have it,” Wraith said. “Despite how weak those swordsmen programs might have seemed to you, they’d still have probably sold for around a hundred credits each. That is, if you were actually hacking. Still, I don’t think there is anything quite like real experience, so let’s try another test. I’ll probe your defense, and you can try mine if you want. Try not to kill any programs. It takes time and energy to create basic programs, and AI are a pain in the ass to respawn.”

  Alan’s vision turned black, and he felt his consciousness return to his body in-game. He moved his hands to lift off the helmet, and looked over at Wraith. Wraith calmly stared back at him.

  “Are you going to start this, or should I?”

  “Uh, I will,” Alan said. He reached out. It felt like connecting to an Administrator, but Wraith’s presence was denser. Once Alan formed a mental connection, he heard Wraith in his mind.

  Let’s keep an open communication channel, but no attacks using it, Wraith sent.

  All right, I’m starting the hack, Alan sent.

  He focused on his ability, mental hack, and found himself transported to the center of a massive army base, once more viewing everything from above like a god. He looked at his mind’s defense, and felt rather impressed. Rather than simple walls, his base was defended by two layers of force fields, a few bunkers, and laser turrets. The outer shield, his overall mental resistance, covered the entire compound, while the smaller shield guarded his main control point, his mind.

  This shield felt strong, and Alan knew that it was a result of his mind defense ability. There were also two smaller control points in his base, one for his armor and the other for his weapon. Each had a bunker of its own. If someone was able to breach either one, they’d be able to mess with his equipment.

  And then Alan saw Eve. She was an angel, a valkyrie—wielding twin, glowing blades, flying above the base, moving as fast as thought and constantly scanning for signs of an enemy. The fog of war was immediately cleared in whichever direction she looked, allowing Alan to get his first glimpse of Wraith’s mind, a large dome wall. A pathway of fog connected Alan’s base to Wraith’s, their mental connection.

  There was a shift in Wraith’s base that Eve immediately picked up on. A small drone emerged from the top of the metal dome, flying toward Alan’s base. As soon as it reached the outer shield Eve appeared beside it and cut its motors, causing it fall to the ground and break into pieces.

  And now you should see the unfair advantages Machine Lords receive, Wraith sent. Your AI is a powerful program that can be tasked with automated attack and defense, leaving you to effectively do what you want. An AI can hack while you fight in real life, disabling an opponent’s equipment or gathering data. Based on my scan, I think your defenses are solid enough that nothing short of a small army is getting through.

  Alan thought back to the entity that had provided him with the mental hack and mind defense abilities. His mind had interpreted the programs as massive starships; he still had a way to go to defend against attacks like that.

  All right, can I try an attack, then? Alan asked.

  Knock yourself out. I won’t even try to fight back, just try to breach the wall. If you manage it, I’ll give you a commendation, Wraith sent.

  Go for it, Eve, Alan sent.

  Affirmative. Eve darted forward and began rapidly striking at the metal wall with a blur of blows. A minute later after no progress, Alan had Eve stop.

  Are we done? Can I get back to the match? Wraith se
nt.

  Let me try one more thing, Alan replied.

  He focused on a tiny section of the wall, enough for a peephole, and tried to will it out of existence. He felt reality began to give a bit; some greater, underlying presence forming a connection with his mind. His Computational Energy began draining rapidly, 100 gone in a second.

  STOP, Wraith sent.

  Why? Do you admit defeat? Are my abilities too strong?

  No, your abilities are illegal. Banned. Red flagged. What did I say earlier? That is not a hacking ability, but an ability that changes the very nature of the Game. If any Administrator finds that you’re messing with the underlying structure you’ll be blacklisted faster than a ref reports an offense.

  Blacklisted? Alan asked.

  No, I’ve taught you enough, I’ll give you your commendation. If you want to buy legal attack programs, come back with marks and ability points. Go ask Cerberus, or Phantom, if you want to know more blacklisting. Oh, and remind Phantom that he owes me two bottles of Haxlardian whiskey!

  Wraith ended the connection, took out a Rogue Commendation, tossed it to Alan and put on the helmet. Then he proceeded to ignore Alan, focusing on the match that once again appeared on the screen. It looked to be close to over, both fighters bleeding from numerous wounds.

  He knows Phantom? Alan wondered, pocketing the commendation. Two down, eight to go.

  Really? You don’t see the connection? Eve asked.

  No.

  Well…Eve said, speaking slowly like she was educating a young child, Wraith is an Erudite. He is tied to the Revenants. Revenant. Wraith. Phantom. See a theme here?

  Hey, I didn’t know he was an Erudite, and I thought the names were coincidental…

  I highly doubt that.

  Alan nodded, then proceeded back to the hub, where all the noise had been coming from. None of the other major players on Cerberus’s list were on Ænigma, and were instead spread throughout other Academy worlds.

  As Alan stepped into Ænigma’s hub area, a lounge filled with Rogue students watching various screens, there was a sudden, deafening roar of cheers and screams of anguish. Alan noticed a large number of marks and items changing hands as the energy in the room increased, becoming almost palpable. A message popped up:

  A new Rogue Challenge has started!

  New quest: Another Game of Assassins

  Kill your target without being killed in turn! After killing your target, their target becomes yours.

  Target: S

  Hunted by: ???

  Rewards: 1 Rogue Commendation for each undetected target assassination

  1 Rogue Commendation to the Assassin with the most kills

  3 Rogue Commendations to the last Assassin standing. Final two challengers will be teleported to a randomized deathmatch arena

  Penalty for failure: Death!

  Chapter 5

  Alan activated hypercognition and analyzed his surroundings. The hub area was like a club lounge with low tables and sofas spread throughout a large room. Seven portals the colors of the rainbow, and one lone, white portal flickered into life. Each looked similar to the teleporters that had transported Alan to where he’d begun the tutorial—cylindrical, mechanical tubes with glass doors.

  Alan examined the white one and a message appeared:

  Temporary portal to the Student Center on Incipe.

  At the center of the room was a table manned by two Administrators. Alan didn’t have time to examine them, as the fifty-odd students were leaping into action. Alan wasn’t sure of the exact number; many students, like him, were deploying stealth technology and abilities.

  Some players tried to make their way to a certain portal, while others rushed toward the one nearest to them. Students began firing weapons indiscriminately, trying to either kill their target or just rack up kills. Alan got a brief glance of Thiago, as well as Aurora, but no sign of his target, S.

  Get out of here, into a portal, Eve sent.

  But which one? Alan asked, stepping to the right to avoid a stray laser bolt. Compared to dodging the laser grid, this was child’s play.

  The red one; it should lead to the Coliseum. There’s a major player there, as well as its namesake arena which should prove helpful.

  Alan nodded, running to the red portal through a sea of laser fire. Two major groups had formed, and were intent on destroying each other—though Alan noted a number of opportunists trying to pick off whoever they could.

  Someone disabled the lights, plunging the room into darkness. With his specialized vision, the glow of the portals provided more than enough light for Alan to see, and based on the continued accuracy of laser fire it seemed like the darkness didn’t affect most of the other players either.

  Alan debated stealing a kill as he saw a player dive to the floor, shields depleted, but decided against it. No need to risk revealing himself; he didn’t have the time, nor did he need to get the achievement for the most kills. He made his way to the red portal and stepped through it, emerging onto a small hillside above a town.

  A message appeared:

  Welcome to the town of Coliseum! This is not a safe zone, but all violence must be sanctioned by the Tyrant. Death penalties apply, along with all the risks typically associated with the Game. An unsafe zone does not equate with a lawless zone, and all players are reminded that local rules should still be followed.

  A handful of other Rogue students were in front of him, but Alan ignored them, and they paid no attention to him. He wasn’t sure if they could even detect him.

  At the center of the town was a massive metal dome, similar to the Black Rose’s Simulation Dome, about the size of two football stadiums. It had a translucent top and a surrounding ring of elevated seats. Eve estimated there were over twenty thousand seats, a quarter of which were filled.

  There can’t be that many Warrior students at the Academy, can there? Alan asked Eve as he began walking down the hill toward the dome. Cerberus’s note simply said: Tyrant, ruler of the Coliseum.

  No, they are spectators. Academy fights are streamed on the globalnet; many of big-name Arena fighters get their start here—thus there are also recruiters and scouts as well as a few gamblers, Eve sent.

  Alan deactivated his invisibility before walking up to the front gates of the town, approaching a guard in power armor with a large stun baton on his side.

  “Do you know how I might meet with Tyrant?” Alan asked.

  The guard smirked. “You want an audience with the Tyrant? Well, he can’t greet any wannabe fan or has-been. Get lost.”

  “Cerberus sent me,” Alan said.

  “Cerbe-who? I said get lost, punk,” the guard said, taking a threatening step toward Alan. Alan shrugged, and then entered the town, making his way toward the Coliseum. No use confronting every jackass he met; the guard was just a hired goon.

  Other than the houses, the vast majority of buildings focused on fighting, with armor and weapon shops as well as repair stations located at nearly every street corner. Various dojos and firing ranges abounded as well. Alan noted an Administrative Center, too, but decided against setting this planet as his respawn point.

  Alan looked behind him, examining the passerby for his hunter. Eve felt like Alan was being paranoid, but he had no idea what his assassin’s skills or abilities might be. Walking down the street in broad daylight made him feel vulnerable, but being invisible in a settlement was frowned upon, even illegal in many cases.

  Alan finally made his way to an information desk in front of the Coliseum, manned by an Administrator. Next to it was a concession stand, sporting the normal gel blocks, various snack foods, and beverages.

  Can you tell me how I might talk to the Tyrant? Alan sent.

  Greetings, Traveler, the Tyrant’s schedule is full for the next month. However, he does personally award winners of the tournaments their commendations and prizes, the Administrator sent.

  Great, what tournaments can I sign up for? Alan asked.

  There are five
tournaments a day, but according to my records you’re only eligible for one, the free for all no-holds-barred melee. It takes place in two hours. As Cerberus’s student, the registration fee is waived.

  Great, sign me up, Alan replied. A message popped up in front of him:

  The Grand Melee:

  Be the last one standing.

  Registered players: 34

  Rewards: 1 Warrior Commendation. Qualification for further tournaments.

  Please check into the waiting room before the match starts, the Administrator sent, highlighting a side entrance on Alan’s map. As soon as the tournament starts, players will be teleported into randomized locations in the Coliseum and the battle will begin.

  Alan thanked the Administrator, then wandered about the small town, mapping it out and trying to identify any trainers or items that stood out. None did, so he made his way back to the Coliseum and into the waiting room—a plain-looking room with about fifty seats and ten screens, two changing rooms, and a medical facility adjacent to them.

  From there he watched the matches, a series of player vs. monster battles, culminating in a massive raid fight of fifty players against a five-headed mutant hydra that could control the elements.

  Alan tried to gather information about his opponents; they mostly had straightforward combat roles, though there was a medic that was participating. A few players were trying to set up initial alliances, but Alan ignored them. There would only be one winner, and he had his own plan.

  Alan accessed a terminal to see if he could discover anything about S, but nothing turned up. He decided against asking Aurora for more information—she might be the one hunting him. How was he supposed to find S, let alone kill him without detection? That was probably just part of the challenge.

  He also learned that the rules on Coliseum were a bit unique. Apparently, dueling wasn’t uncommon, and the basic rule was ‘might makes right.’ If you could knock someone unconscious, it was generally allowed, even rewarded. Alan would have to watch his back when he got out of here.