The Prisoner of Arabella

by Matthew Kent

  “All right, then. None of this makes any sense. There is nothing about the man that seems to warrant the attention of the government or EPARD. The online data indicates all his paperwork was in order, taxes paid. But here we have what clearly a political prosecution or persecution, and I can’t tell why.” Miles waved at the wall screens and clicked a button. ”Here we see he worked with a local boys’ club. Hell, he’s a boy scout.”

  “Yes, but what you don’t know and what no one can ever find out is that his name was one of the thirteen we received through project Cassandra.”

  Miles raised an eyebrow. “The quantum computer project?”

  Prentice nodded. “His was the last name that came up when the project lead asked for a list of insurgents, terrorists, or people the government had to worry about.” He sighed. “I’ve spent the last five years tracking him down. There was virtually no digital finger print. My supervisor was very put out.”

  Miles grunted at that.

  “Digital entities can get that way,” Miles replied and gave Prentice a steady look, which the agent flinched from.

  “So you know,” Prentice asked.

  “I think it would be damned stupid of me not to. Is it monitoring us?” Prentice shook his head in the negative.

  “I need to talk to James Wulf. No one seems to know where he is. I’m assuming he isn’t dead.” Miles stood up and came around the desk and then leaned against it, looking at the agent. “I don’t know your job. I don’t want to. But my job is to keep this digital cash cow we call a game running. This morning I had twenty-seven people trapped in the game. As of an hour ago, we were up to thirty-one. These aren’t the pods like we are using for the Mars project. They have ten days of support capacity, and we can stretch that maybe another three depending on each occupant. The clock started running four days ago. In nine days I’m going to have dead players on my hands. At that point the game will be shut off, and that means the loss of hundreds of millions in revenue and hundreds of millions—possibly billions—in money invested in the game.”

  At each point, Miles would click a pointer, and the monitors around the room would change with graphs and photos to illustrate his points.

  “I’m sure you don’t appreciate the information dump. But I don’t appreciate being given the mushroom treatment. Like I told Willy Kai Cody, if someone starts looking for scalps, I have scalps to hand out other than my own if I don’t get what I need.”

  It may have been planned or a fortuitous accident that had the last image stop on a head on a pole.

  “I need to know what Wulf knows, and you have him. Ergo, if the mountain doesn’t come to Mohammad…” Miles paused.

  “Fine. I’ll take you to him,” Prentice said.

  Miles sighed. “See, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”

  X - X - X

  “Our chances aren’t good if we go it alone,” I told Anna. “If we try to do it ourselves there are just the two of us and whatever security they have on-site.”

  “I do have some skills,” Anna replied.

  I’m sure she had some training, but I was sure any guards would too.

  “How many armed guards do you think you could take at one time?” I leaned my head against the wall and sighed. I was looking down the walk way to see the next déjà rat—or maybe it was time for dinner. He was right. The food here sucked. It was supposed to be a food brick: shredded meat and chopped vegetables packed into a bread-like substance. It was truly vile. No salt, no pepper, and the worst chickeny flavor ever. I figured the person who programmed this could be tried for crimes against humanity for the food alone.

  “Oh,” she replied.

  “Yeah.” As I watched for the rat, I saw two figures materialize what appeared to be a few cells down.

  Agent Prentice. And there was a smaller mousy man of Asian descent next to him. He stood maybe five foot seven and had thinning grey hair. I’d never seen him before, but it was something new, and I was already bored.

  “Anna, your boyfriend’s here.”

  “What?”

  “Prentice is here, and he has someone with him,” I said as I watched them draw near. “They better not expect me to stand up for this.”

  When they drew near I spoke up. “Agent Prentice, is this your next victim?”

  He eyed me and gave me what can only have been an eat shit and die look. We’ve all gotten them; his wasn’t even very good. It was the other man who spoke up, though.

  “Mr. Wulf, I’m Miles Hanimaga.”

  I nodded. I still wasn’t going to stand for him.

  “There have been a few problems that seem to be associated with or around your account.”

  “And you are coming to prison to talk to me?” As I spoke, Agent Prentice looked over at my neighbor Dabrowski. “I hope this has been instructive for you.”

  “You son of a bitch! Why am I here?” Anna yelled at her ex-partner.

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Prentice said, his voice thick with contempt. “We’re done here.”

  He turned and walked back down the walkway.

  “God, what a dick,” Anna replied.

  “That’s the spirit,” I replied. “So Miles, what do you want me to do about it? And what exactly is the problem?”

  “There appears to be an old quest from the previous build, that your character seems to be associated with. Can you tell me about it?”

  I pursed my lips and thought for a bit. “I can, but I think my character is the only one that can complete the quest.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Miles sighed.

  “Take a seat, and don’t mind the déjà rats,” I said.

  “Déjà rats?”

  “Yeah. You’ll understand it when you see it,” I replied and started to tell him about my first day in the game and the quest that I had received. About midway through my story he interrupted me with an exclamation.

  “What the hell was that?”

  I looked over and saw the rat scurry on.

  “That was a déjà rat,” Anna said. “Kinda weird and next there should be a clatter over there.”

  She pointed as there was a sound of something metal hitting the floor in the distance.

  “What just happened?” Miles asked.

  I smiled, looked over at him and just continued my story.

  “We always knew there were layers to the world we had missed,” he finally said when I was done. “James—may I call you James?” I nodded my assent. “If I can get you pardoned, would you be willing to help us get this under control?”

  “I want out of here,” I said, “but only if you can get Agent Dabrowski out too.”

  “No, James, you should go—” Anna said.

  “I don’t know if I can promise that,” Miles said looking thoughtfully at her.

  “Miles, you know they won’t let me out of here without having a watchdog on me and a way to track me. Agent Dabrowski, I think I can work with her. I sure as Hades am not going to go along with Agent Prentice at my back, and it will give them a chance to rehabilitate Anna.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully, then nodded and got up. He put a hand on the bars, and it passed through. I smirked when he looked at me to see if I noticed.

  “Every place has its own kind of bugs,” I said.

  He nodded then walked away.

  “Anna, I know I didn’t ask your wishes, but I’m assuming you wanted out of here too.”

  “Yeah, I did, but can you tell me about this game?”

  I smiled and started to talk once more. It seemed I might have someone to watch my back. I had talked for probably close to an hour, and then the food guy had started his run. I came to a decision. If we couldn’t escape on our own, we needed a mass breakout. Anna and I wouldn’t be able to talk to the prisoners ourselves, and therefore we needed someone who could and who could spread the secret around. I listened for the wheels of the cart and prepared myself at the mirror. The way I had it figured most of these other prisoners were po
liticos just like myself. There might be some real dirtbags, but better a thousand guilty men go free than one man suffer injustice.

  X - X - X

  “So?” Prentice said in his deep methodical voice.

  “He’s willing to work with me,” Miles said as he placed a headset control on a shelf.

  “I don’t mean that. Of course he is willing to work with you if he gets out of his cell. But did he give you the information to end this problem you have?”

  Miles sighed and looked at Prentice. “Yes and no. He’s dangerously intelligent, and he told me what he knew about the quest he had received. But that’s all he knows, and it seems all too likely he’s the only one that can resolve the quest.”

  “Huh.” Prentice grunted. “He’s not getting out of there.”

  Miles didn’t feel like arguing the point. “Probably not. But I have to try don’t I? Otherwise in…” He checked his watch. “Nine days we are going to have the first deaths, and no one wants that to happen.”

  Prentice tapped his wrist com. “She’d tell you the good of the many outweigh the needs of the one.”

  “Well… she’s a bitch,” Miles said, deadpan.

  X - X - X

  “Did you find it?” Jason’s supervisor asked as they examined the report on one of the gaming pods.

  “Yeah, it’s one of the nanite control CPUs. It’s glitched,” Jason said, looking up. “I have a replacement ordered, but we are wait-listed again.”

  “This is the third week we’ve been shorted.” The supervisor scratched his chin in thought. “This is for the angels group right?”

  “Yeah, good guys. Ex-military, so they understand.”

  “Jason, honest truth—will it be okay for a few more days.?”

  Jason sighed and got a far off look. “They stress the systems. Hell, that’s what they are supposed to do. But I think it should hold. I’ll put a monitor on it.”

  “Did you check with research to see what they said?”

  “Yeah. They don’t see a problem. If the system fails, it will initiate an emergency log out, they said.”

  “Good enough, but first pod we have come free, move him to it.”

  Chapter 4

  The Redleaf Assassins had been ousted from their top ranked position inside the city of Finn. After three months of constant warfare, they had been forced to flee the land of martial splendor and wealth. Their guild had originally held over twelve hundred members. They now held a little over four hundred, including their crafters, many of whom received a monthly stipend from the guild. They had sailed south to the large continent and were preparing to march into the lands of Arabella to claim them for their own until they had marshaled their strength once more and could return to Finn and force out the Star City Raiders.

  Their leader was an imposing man wearing red and black banded samurai armor.

  “Lord of Horse Bojing,” the leader called to one of the men near him. “What is that?”

  He pointed to an area along their march route.

  “I do not know, sir. Should I send scouts?” replied Bojing, another man dressed in a scout’s leather armor.

  “Yes, send scouts,” Shin Feng replied. Even as he spoke, Bojing detailed a five-man squad to investigate the smoke that their leader had spotted on the horizon.

  From Baie Jie: Lord of Horse, there has been a massacre here. The town is destroyed, and there are bodies everywhere. What would you have us do?

  From Lord of Horse Bojing: Continue to scout. Lord Shin Feng will wish to investigate.

  “Lord Shin Feng, the men say that the town has been destroyed, with bodies everywhere. I have ordered them to continue to scout.”

  “Good, Bojing. Apparently your head is good for something. Turn the column to the city. We may find supplies.”

  Soon the column of displaced players headed toward the massacred town. Players would peel off to loot the dead and clear the streets.

  “Lord Shin Feng, this is fortuitous,” Lord of Horse Bojing said. “We can occupy this town and gather resources before we take over Arabella.”

  Both players smiled at one another as they prepared for their inevitable rise to power.

  Later that evening, the massacred town’s people rose from the piles the assassins had placed them in. In far off Beijing, alarms wailed as players' characters took on aspects of undeath.

  X - X - X

  “Good, you’re here,” Miles said to Agent Prentice when he came into the open incident room.

  The main wall featured a timer counting down the days, hours, and minutes until the first estimated death. The other walls featured maps, character screen shots and theories by various AI engineers trying to explain what was going on in the game. One photo showed a longsword with a blade as black as a moonless night. Underneath it was the caption “Legend Blade of Undeath.”

  “What’s happened?” Prentice said as he looked around at the surrounding bustle.

  “Forty-five minutes ago we got the first internationals locked in the game—” Miles started to speak but was interrupted by the Epard Agent.

  “Why should I give a damn? They aren’t my responsibility.”

  “Because one of the victims is related to the Chinese minister, and he’s a little upset. Do you remember what happened to the two Muslims who kidnapped his fifth cousin two years ago?”

  “They executed them, and their families,” Prentice stated. “I get your point”

  “I need Wulf. We are now on the clock at eight days. If that girl dies…” Miles said.

  “He’s crazy enough to start world war four.” Prentice sighed. “I’ll have him here in an hour.”

  “And bring Agent Dabrowski with him. She can watch dog him.”

  Prentice stiffened at that, then sighed knowing he had been beaten.

  X - X - X

  I started awake and looked around and noticed I wasn’t in the prison anymore. The walls were still an industrial government cream, bland, uninteresting, and slightly depressing. I was in some kind of clinic. Looking around me, I saw my clothes piled on a chair, so I dressed quickly. As soon as I was done, the curtain opened, and Agent Prentice was standing there in all his thuggish glory.

  “Agent Prentice,” I said blandly and received a dirty look from him.

  “Come with me,” he said angrily.

  Apparently I had somehow managed to once again crap in his breakfast cereal. I followed him down the hall and saw agent Dabrowski. She nodded, then fell in with us as we walked down the hallway and out an armored door to a ground car. “If it was my decision, you two would both be rotting in that prison.”

  “But it's not,” I chimed in, knowing Anna would not take the opening.

  “That's right, but I will be there to get you when you cross the line.”

  I shook my head and climbed into the back of the car. I figured if Prentice would be that guy, I’d pretend to be chauffeured around by him. As I sat back, I let my mind wander to my last conversation with the guy who brought us our meals.

  “Sorry I don’t know your name,” I’d asked him.

  “I’m Juan,” he replied.

  “Juan, how long have you been here?”

  “Since eighty. The boat lift.”

  I’d been puzzled then, but I figured it out. The last big boat lift was the Marial boat lift from Cuba. Juan had been in prison over a hundred years. At a guess, he was in a cryo capsule. That also meant he was probably one of the oldest living people in the world.

  “Juan, ever seen that image of the mirror?”

  He’d nodded. “Yeah. It's a damned freaky thing."

  “Yeah, but watch,” I said as I pressed my finger to the spot and said “Open sesame.” And there was a flash of light as I was sucked into the waiting room.

  Inside it had been a gray nothing—maybe I should call it purgatory. The only thing inside the room was a waist-high column with a large red button on it. The wall behind me looked like reflections. I placed my finger on it and said “C
lose sesame,” and I found myself back in my cell. Juan was staring at me open-mouthed.

  “To leave there say ‘closed sesame.’ But Juan, one person has no chance alone doing it. We need hundreds to break out on the same day.”

  “Sí…” he said thoughtfully, and I’d seen a cool gleam in his eye. I wasn’t sure when, but those secret prisons were about to be opened.