“He’s very clever, sir,” Wesley said. “A few of the others don’t like it, and they bully him.”
The Administrator pursed his lips. “If the others are bullying him, please explain to me how they are the ones in the infirmary, while he appears to be healthy and unharmed.”
Wesley shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, he is very clever.”
“He’s too young to be moved into other programs, yet he appears to be too advanced to remain with those in his age group.” The Administrator tapped his fingers together in thought. “You have a special interest in this boy, Wesley; what do you suggest we do with him?”
Damn it! Wesley thought to himself. Showing a special interest in him is dangerous for both of us. I have to try something to convince them I don’t care about the boy.
“He’s too young to possess much physical strength,” Wesley said.
“Tell that to the boys and girls with broken limbs and concussions,” the Administrator chuckled.
“Yes, well, he didn’t inflict the actual injuries himself,” Wesley said. “He had his older friends do it.”
“What?” The Administrator leaned forward and his eyes widened in concern. “How is that possible? We keep the little ones separate from the others. Until they are five years old, they aren’t allowed to be with the older children. He turned five only two days ago. There’s no way he could have befriended older children, and convinced them to him hurt the others so quickly.”
Wesley hid his smile, pretending to stifle a yawn. “Yet that’s exactly what he did, sir.”
“Fine — I’ll take your word for it.” The Administrator waved his hand. “He’s clever. Now answer my question… what do you suggest we do with him?”
Wesley hated himself for what he was about to say, but it was the only way the boy would have any chance of making it through this hell of a school and retain some small part of who he was. “Send him to the Games Facility, sir.”
The Administrator stared at Wesley, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Finally he said, “That’s a ruthless recommendation, Wesley. Children don’t get invited to try out for the Games until they are at least ten years old.”
“I’ve seen the Games, sir,” Wesley said. “The boy is as capable as any of the ten-year-olds, perhaps smarter than all of them combined.”
The Administrator considered the idea. He was frustrated with this particular child, but he also recognized great potential in him. The General would pay handsomely for this one when it came time to enlist, so long as they didn’t ruin him.
“What the hell,” the Administrator said. “I haven’t gambled on a student like this in years, and if there was ever one worth taking a chance on, it’s him.”
He pressed a button on his phone. “Send him in, please.”
The door opened and the boy walked in. He was of average height for boys his age, with sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes. His clothes were standard issue grey and brown. He walked in with his head down, but when the door closed behind him, he raised it slightly, looking towards the Administrator. Both adults could see that he was biting his lip in an attempt to look contrite, but his eyes twinkled with the promise of mischief.
“Brandon, I’m tired of seeing you in this office,” the Administrator said.
Brandon lowered his head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Wesley and I have been trying to figure out what to do with you.”
The boy said nothing. He’d visited this office often enough to know that they would do as they pleased; speaking up would only earn him a more severe punishment.
“Wesley has an idea, and I rather like it.”
Brandon looked up with genuine interest in his eyes. He was fond of Wesley; the man had shown him small kindnesses over the years, defending him when he could, and giving him special treatment when possible. Brandon hoped Wesley had enough influence to place him where he wanted to be.
“We’re allowing you to apply early to the Games Facility.”
Brandon’s expression changed from eager to afraid. The Administrator pretended not to notice, but secretly he was pleased by Brandon’s reaction. “You will report to the entrance trials in three days. Good luck, Brandon, I know you’ll do your best.”
The Administrator looked down at his paperwork, dismissing the boy with a wave of his hand.
As he turned away to leave, a satisfied grin spread across Brandon’s face.
Chapter 5
“How can I help you, Donovan?”
The General grimaced in discomfort. “I’m afraid that during business hours I must insist that you refer to me by my official title.”
Samson smiled and nodded. “Of course. Please forgive me.”
The General shook his head dismissively. “Oh, there’s nothing to forgive. If I had things my way, it wouldn’t be so formal.”
“I understand entirely,” Thorn said. “Don’t give it another thought. How is it that I can assist you, General?”
“You’ve been spending considerable time and resources developing virtual reality technology,” the General said.
Samson smiled, “There are many companies spending considerable time and resources developing virtual reality technology.”
“Yes, but word is that you’ve actually done it, Samson.”
Thorn grimaced, perfectly mirroring the General’s facial expression from a few moments ago. “I’m afraid, General, that during business hours I must also insist on being addressed in a more formal manner.” There will be no confusion here, Donovan, Thorn thought. I am not inferior to you. At the very least, I’m your equal. If you want to play games with me, then I will play back.
The General’s eyes became flat and he closed his mouth abruptly. could see his jaw clenching and relaxing rhythmically.
The moment passed, and the General’s smile returned. “That is entirely understandable… Mr. Thorn?” he asked.
Thorn nodded.
“Are the rumours correct then, Mr. Thorn? Have you perfected virtual reality technology?”
Thorn wasn’t sure how much information he wanted to share. Success in being first to introduce virtual reality to the world would make the company to do so a major global player. Everyone would want access to this technology, and whoever controlled it would be in a position of unlimited potential for power and dominance. Thorn knew enough about the General to be concerned about partnering with him in this matter.
The General understood Thorn’s hesitation. He lifted his hands in a soothing gesture. “I don’t want control of the technology for myself, Mr. Thorn.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Thorn said.
“As you know, I am a powerful man.”
Thorn laughed. “Yes, General, I’m aware of your power, and I really do want to work with you. I believe that both of us could benefit from a partnership, but it would need to be just that — a partnership.”
The General considered Thorn’s words carefully, and then nodded. “I understand, Mr. Thorn, and I agree one hundred percent.”
“What would you do with VR technology, if it were yours to command?” Thorn asked.
The General went to the large conference table which occupied one corner of the room and pulled out a chair. Thorn nodded his thanks and sat down. The General sat down across from him and poured them each a glass of water, taking a sip before answering Thorn’s question.
“I’ve always been a fan of games, Mr. Thorn,” The General said. “Not long after I was promoted to General, I attended a university competition. Engineering students were competing to see who could build a structure capable of keeping an egg intact while being dropped from extreme heights. I was amazed at the results.”
Thorn nodded. He was familiar with the type of contest the General was referring to.
“One of my divisions had a challenge that they assured me was impossible to achieve. I’m sure that a man such as yourself would agree that there’s no such thing as impossible, but the grou
p working on the challenge was at a significant roadblock. I devised a game with challenges that exactly duplicated the problem we needed to solve, and then sent invitations to all universities to compete.”
“How quickly did they solve your problem?” Thorn asked.
“The invitation was sent out, and three months later the game was held. The fourth team to play solved our ‘impossible’ challenge.”
“Remarkable,” Thorn said.
“Indeed,” The General agreed. “Even more remarkable is the fact that seven other teams also presented us with solutions during the same competition. A challenge that we had worked unsuccessfully on for over a year, employing the world’s best and most intelligent scientists, solved in three months — by kids.”
“Impressive results,” Thorn said.
“I realized that this strategy could be applied to most, if not all, areas of the military. I formulated a proposal and approached the government for funding. They gave me the money I asked for immediately, and with the appropriated funds, I was able to start my own division. Our results have been overwhelmingly positive.”
“Infinite Solutions Division,” Thorn said.
“Changing The World Through Play,” the General said, finishing the Division’s motto.
“So you want to use my virtual reality technology to allow your gamers to play and learn more safely?” Thorn guessed.
“The uses are limitless,” The General said. “If I could train a soldier, put him in absolutely real combat repeatedly. Every time he dies, we don’t lose him; instead, he comes back to be debriefed and then reinserted. After ten virtual reality simulations I would have a combat hardened veteran, a battle seasoned professional who has died many times, and killed his enemies thousands.”
“Which is only the tip of the iceberg,” Thorn said.
“Exactly!”
“So I will still own the technology?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Thorn. I don’t have the time or the energy to worry about the technology. All I want is to be your most important and number one customer. If we can solidify a deal, I promise to make you the richest man in the world, and also one of the most powerful.”
Thorn pretended to think about the proposal for a few moments. The truth of the matter was that he had thought about this partnership for months. He knew what it could mean for him and his company.
“Okay, General,” Thorn said. “Let’s solidify a deal.”
“Does this mean that you possess fully functioning virtual reality technology?” the General asked.
“Yes,” Thorn smiled. “That’s exactly what it means.”
Chapter 6
Brandon smiled as he sat on a bench in the hallway outside of Wesley’s office. He swung his legs gently back and forth, pleased that he’d been able to encourage the adults to let him into the Games early. Brandon wasn’t sure what to expect in the games section of the Children’s Centre, but he wasn’t nervous. No matter what happened, he was excited about the opportunity.
Life wasn’t normal for orphans growing up in the Centre. It was more like a military academy than a children’s home. Their needs were met, and they all received an excellent education. By the age of five, each child had been tested and assessed thoroughly. Then they were placed in a program that was judged to be most beneficial to their strengths. Intelligent children were steered towards training that would someday involve office work and intellectual tasks. Physically apt children would be groomed for manual labour and field work. Those who excelled at both, like Brandon, were tagged for the Games. The goal of the Centre was to produce the best product possible, and over the years they had become very proficient at their craft.
Brandon was able to read and comprehend anything his instructors put in front of him. He was best in his group for solving puzzles and in spoken communication drills. It seemed that Brandon was a natural at any task set before him. If he was intelligent when it came to books and formal education, the boy was brilliant when it came to the intangible ‘street smart’ aspect of life.
Brandon was popular with almost everyone. He was funny, kind, and generous to his fellow students, and always willing to stop whatever he was doing to assist his peers. Not only did Brandon have an uncanny ability to comprehend and perform all tasks, but he was also able to teach these new skills to his classmates better than most instructors could.
There were a few children who hated Brandon no matter how hard he tried to win their friendship. He’d done his best to stay out of their way, and when that had finally failed, he had taken steps to show them that it would be best to leave him alone.
The office door opened, and Wesley emerged. “Good morning, Brandon,” he said. “Are you ready for orientation?”
Brandon hopped off the bench and stood at respectful attention. “Good morning, Instructor Wesley,” he said. “Ready and waiting for orientation, sir.”
Even after three years in his position, Wesley still found it a bit unsettling to see these young boys and girls acting like adults. Kids their age should be learning the basic rules of life, playing and worrying about nap time in a regular school, but that wasn’t how life was for children inside the Centre. Here they were required to be much more. The Administrator believed that all children could be more. In his opinion it was simply poor and lazy parenting that prevented children from achieving their true potential. Wesley disagreed — silently, of course. Some of his fondest memories were from his childhood. The children who grew up at the Centre would never have memories of playing outside all day, climbing trees, or doing any of the other normal things that regular kids did.
“Let’s get going,” Wesley said. He led Brandon down the hallway to the elevator. When it arrived, they descended to the basement level. From there, the two walked down a long hall that emerged into an underground subway.
A small train with three cars was waiting. Inside the cars were perhaps two dozen boys, all of them 10 years old. Outside of the train stood five older boys who appeared to be around 15 or 16. As Wesley and Brandon got closer, one of the boys stepped forward and saluted Wesley. Wesley stopped and returned the salute.
“Hello, sir. My name is Cadet Walsch, and I’ve been instructed to escort Brandon to his orientation.”
Wesley nodded. “Very well, Cadet Walsch. I require a moment with Brandon alone. I'll send him over to you in just a moment.”
Walsch frowned as if he wanted to deny the request, but he nodded instead. “Very good, sir.” He saluted again and moved to stand beside the train door.
Wesley looked at Brandon and smiled. “Give ‘em hell, boy,” he said.
Brandon smiled back. “Thank you, sir. I will try my best.” He stuck out his hand, and Wesley paused for a moment before he grabbed it and shook. “I hope to see you again someday, sir,” Brandon said.
“You’ll see me very soon, Brandon,” Wesley said. “They promoted me to Game Instructor. I’ll be one of your first teachers in just a few days.”
“Oh,” Brandon said, his expression making it obvious to Wesley that he was pleased to hear this. “Then I look forward to learning more from you, sir.”
Wesley smiled warmly. “I look forward to learning from you as well, Brandon.”
“I don’t think I have much to teach,” Brandon said.
“I believe you will teach others more than they will ever teach you, Brandon.” Wesley replied.
===
Brandon walked to the door of the train and stopped in front of Cadet Walsch. He saluted, holding the gesture until Walsch returned it.
“At ease, Gamer,” Walsch said with an amused smirk on his face. “I’m going to take you to join the group of new candidates.” Walsch paused for a moment. “But before we get on this train, I have one question.”
“Sir?”
“I can only assume that you wanted to become a Gamer,” Walsch said.
Brandon stood quietly. He’d been told there would be a question coming, but so far he’d only heard a statement.
“I’m not in a rush to play games, sir,” Brandon said. “I haven’t lived a long life, but from what I’ve been able to learn so far, it seems to me that life is a game. Everything I do seems to be part of some sort of game. There are rules, and moves, and reactions, and strategies to refine and perfect. There are even scoring methods for measuring success and failure. Life is all a big game, sir.” Brandon smiled. “I figured it would be best to get somewhere that acknowledges this fact and start building myself some points or credits. The Centre’s Game Facility is the only place that I’ve managed to find so far that fits the bill.”
Walsch looked at Brandon for a few moments, and then he smiled. “Well, Brandon, you might not have lived that long, but you’ve figured out some tricky concepts in your short time. I think you’ll be one to watch closely in the Games. Come on, let’s go.”
Walsch led Brandon onto the train and pointed out a seat for him to take, away from the other boys. The older boys stopped talking when Brandon came aboard, watching him quietly as he sat down. Each boy silently told himself that they would easily beat the tiny five-year-old that dared join them in the Games.
Brandon smiled confidently at them, as if reading their minds and inviting them to give it their best shot.
Chapter 7
Samson Thorn lowered himself into the plush leather chair in the General’s office and swirled his brandy around in the glass. The General had just taken him on a day-long tour of the advanced training facilities. The exercises and drills as well as the final products that the General was turning out, using games as a foundation, were an intricate operation.
Interlude-Brandon (The Game is Life) Page 2