Interlude-Brandon (The Game is Life)

by Schott, Terry

  “I won’t keep you long,” Cooper said. “We stroll through here whenever we get the chance, which isn’t as often as we would like. I had to talk to you. I noticed you and felt it, so I had to come over.”

  “You felt what?” Brandon asked.

  “The spark,” Cooper said. He leaned forward and put his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “When I feel the spark, I’m compelled to approach that student and offer a word of advice; something that the General himself said to me when I was just a young ward of the Centre.”

  Brandon looked around wondering who might have this spark that Cooper was speaking about. Then he realized that Cooper was talking about him. He looked at Cooper hopefully.

  Cooper nodded, “Yes, I sense that spark in you, Brandon. Are you ready for your words of advice?”

  Brandon nodded silently.

  “Okay, then,” Cooper said, “here they are. Relax. It’s all just a game.”

  Brandon stood there waiting for the advice. Cooper watched him with an expression of amusement. After a few moments it appeared that Cooper had nothing more to say.

  Brandon wanted to tell Cooper that he knew it was a game. The school itself was called the Game Facility, after all; there was nothing surprising in what he’d said. Cooper’s look told him there was a message in his words, even if he didn’t understand it.

  Brandon simply smiled and nodded his head. “Thank you, Cooper, I appreciate the advice. It was great to meet you.”

  Cooper smiled at Brandon’s politeness. Every kid asked him what he was talking about when he gave his advice. He wasn’t sure any of them ever got it, although he was fairly certain that most never did. Brandon seemed different, though. Was it possible that this young one was better than all the others? Only time would tell. He patted the boy on the back and sent him on his way, turning to go rejoin his brothers.

  He would be keeping an eye on young Brandon.

  Chapter 10

  The General was reading reports when his phone rang.

  “General, Mr. Thorn is here to see you. He says that you are expecting him?”

  The General smiled and nodded. “Yes, Sarah, please send him right in.”

  A moment later the door opened and Thorn walked in. He didn’t waste time with polite greetings or small talk. “It would seem that no one wants to work with me, General,” he said. “Do you really think you can force me into a partnership with you?”

  “I told you that I was a very powerful man, Mr. Thorn,” the General replied. “I don’t want to force you into a partnership, but I will certainly not allow you to work with anyone else and leave me out of the equation. That wouldn't be acceptable to me, or to your country. You either work with me, or you go it alone.”

  Thorn started to speak, but he caught himself in mid-sentence, took a slow breath, and smiled. He went to the bar and, without asking for permission, poured himself a drink. Thorn walked over to the desk and sat down, taking a sip. The General sat calmly and watched Thorn with a pleasant look on his face. Both knew who the winner was, but the General saw no point in gloating over his victory.

  Thorn finished his drink and set the crystal glass down on the desk with a loud thunk. “It’s been three weeks since our last meeting,” he said. “I assume that you have the money I require and the computers built?”

  The General looked slightly confused. “I’ve built the computers as specified in the instructions provided when we last met. I thought that the money you requested would be used to build the computers, so I went ahead and did the work for you. Since you have the computers, you don’t need the money.”

  Thorn smiled coldly. “My price to work with you has doubled, General. Now I require the computers and the sum of money quoted.”

  “Very well,” the General said.

  “Just like that?” Thorn asked.

  “Just like that,” the General nodded. “Look, Mr. Thorn, I don’t want bad blood between us. If paying the credits on top of building you the computers puts us on good terms then it’s a small price to pay, as far as I’m concerned. I can have that sum credited to you within the hour. Would you like to confirm receipt before we get to work, or do you trust me enough that we can begin now?”

  “I’m not sure I will ever trust you, General,” Thorn said. “However, I’m willing to get started now.”

  “Excellent,” the General said. He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a small box, and passed it to Thorn. Inside was a platinum pin fashioned into the shape of the infinity symbol; the General’s mark. “If you wear this at all times, it will help our work progress more quickly. I bestow these pins on very few individuals, Mr. Thorn, and anyone who works with me will recognize it as a symbol of authority. Your orders will be followed without question while you wear it… as long as your orders don’t counteract my own.”

  “Thank you, General,” Thorn said. “This will certainly help save time.”

  “How soon will we be able to put my people into virtual reality?” the General asked.

  Thorn pulled out three files and handed them to the General. “Each of these files must be completed before we will be ready to proceed with initial VR testing. The first file is a checklist to make absolutely certain that the computer systems you’ve built meet my specifications. The second file gives biological data so that we can form facilities capable of holding the subjects and keeping them healthy and fed while they are immersed in virtual reality. The third file covers the parameters that need to be selected. It might look complex, but it’s very basic. The computer mainframe will fill in most of the blanks when we get subjects into the simulations. If everything goes quickly and efficiently, then I expect we should have your first people inside the system within the next three weeks.”

  “That is excellent news, Mr. Thorn. I would like to ramp up the simulations, starting first with simple drills and building in complexity as we go.”

  “That sounds easy enough to accomplish,” Thorn said.

  “Is it possible to record everything that goes on inside the simulation, and measure each individual’s vital scores and functions?”

  “Absolutely,” Thorn said. “We can start with as many as twenty individuals on the first run. I thought you might want to send in an entire General’s Avatar?”

  “I will likely only send in one individual to begin with,” The General said. “I would also like to formulate a special project, Mr. Thorn, using younger people.”

  “How young?” Thorn asked.

  “Ten-year-olds,” the General said. “I have a new batch of Gamers in one of my feeder facilities. I’m thinking it might be best to start them immediately inside the virtual reality system. Then I can measure their results and scores against others who have experience in the traditional games that I’ve been running for years.”

  “It sounds like an interesting idea, General,” Thorn said. “Of course we can try that out and see how it will work. Ten-year-olds will be no problem to integrate at all. I wouldn’t go any younger than five, just to be safe.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” the General said. “I was just reading a report from one of my prime facilities, the facility that produced Cooper. It seems that there is one remarkable five-year-old attempting to gain admission to the program. If he makes it, I would like to include him in this pilot project as well.”

  “That will be fine,” Thorn assured him. “If the five-year-old makes it into your program, it will be no problem to include him in the VR program.”

  Chapter 11

  The Baggers waited in the hallway before their first class.

  They were lined up single file, and the line extended far down the dimly lit hall. There were a lot more kids in line than there were on the train here. Brandon guessed that they must have come from different Centres. He waited patiently with the rest of the children; there was a girl in front of him and a boy behind him. Everyone towered over Brandon, which was no surprise to him, but it did cause many curious looks in his direction.


  “Please tell me you’re the five-year-old that everyone’s been talking about,” said the boy standing behind him. Brandon looked over his shoulder and saw a friendly looking boy with shaggy blonde hair smiling at him. His eyes were blue and his shoulders were wide for a young boy of ten. He looked stronger than the rest, and far friendlier than most of the kids he’d met so far.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Brandon said.

  “Good, I thought maybe you were just really small, or else they’d been putting something in my food that made me really big!”

  Brandon laughed. “My name’s Brandon. What’s yours?”

  The boy tapped himself on the chest quickly three times, then held his hand out to Brandon who shook it. “My name’s Tony. It’s nice to meet you, Runt.”

  Brandon wasn’t sure what to make of the nickname. Whenever he’d heard it before, there was always a negative flavour to it, but when Tony said it he didn’t get that vibe.

  Tony sensed Brandon’s confusion, and he smiled reassuringly. “Hope you don’t mind me calling you that. It just kinda came out,” he said. “I know most people use that word in a bad way, but not me. At our Centre we had a dog. She had a litter of pups, and there was one that was smaller than the rest; you know, a runt. Well, the others all got snapped up real quick by people who worked there. No one wanted the runt, though, and so he stayed with us at the Centre. Most of us never thought we’d get a pet, and so we were really excited to get to keep him. We called him ‘Killer’ as a joke, you know, because he was so teeny. All of us would save bits from our meals and smuggle them to Killer, and it didn’t take long for him to grow.” Tony laughed. “By the time he was full grown, he was the biggest damn dog you ever laid eyes on. Our instructors would say to us that sometimes even a runt can surprise you if you give it what it needs.”

  Brandon smiled and nodded his head. He liked the story.

  “When I saw you standing there looking smaller than all the rest of us, but not really worried about it, you reminded me of Killer,” Tony said. “Calling you Runt just seemed to fit.”

  “It didn’t seem like you were trying to be mean when you said it,” Brandon said. “I think I like it. Feel free to call me Runt if you’d like, Tony.”

  Tony ruffled Brandon’s hair playfully, “Thanks, Runt. I think I will.”

  “Are you nervous?” Brandon asked. “Any idea what goes on during the trials?”

  “I have no clue,” Tony said, “I’m not nervous, though. I’ll do my best no matter what. That’s usually good enough to keep me ahead of the pack, so I’m sure that’s how it will go here too. What about you? Are you nervous?”

  Before Brandon could answer, the line started to move forward slowly. “Looks like there’s no time to worry now,” Brandon said.

  Brandon broke into a grin as he recognized the instructor at the door, it was Wesley! As the kids filed in, Wesley was repeating instructions to all of them. “Go in the room and gather along the walls. No one is to sit down until instructed to do so.”

  A few minutes later, all of them were inside and standing along the walls. There were desks in the centre of the room, looking as if they had been randomly thrown together.

  Wesley called for silence and when the murmuring ceased, he began to speak. “The first game is a simple one, but for one of you it will be your last.”

  The group began to murmur with worry. Brandon looked up at Tony beside him, who winked down at Brandon and smiled.

  “There are fifty applicants in this room. Can anyone tell me how many desks there are?”

  “There are forty-nine,” Brandon said.

  Wesley smiled and nodded at Brandon. “That’s right. There are only forty-nine. We will play music, and when it stops, each of you must sit at a desk. You cannot sit on the table portion of the desk. The one of you who winds up without a seat goes home. Let’s begin.”

  The music started and everyone began to walk slowly around the room. Whenever anyone looked at Brandon they smirked, and he knew that they were all imagining the little one going home. He smiled back at them; he hadn’t come this far just to wash out in the first half hour. He walked as calmly as the rest, trying to think how he would get a seat once the physical jostling began.

  Suddenly the music stopped. Brandon was ready for it. He might not be big, but he was certainly fast. With a quick zip and dodge, he sat in a chair slightly ahead of a boy. The rest of the chairs quickly began to fill up as the kids started to shove each other and jockey for position. As the number of available chairs dwindled, the amount of pushing and shoving increased dramatically.

  Finally there were three boys remaining and only two chairs. One of the boys was beside Brandon, and didn’t appear to be focused on the remaining empty chairs. Brandon looked at him and realized too late what the boy intended to do.

  With a quick grab and a shove, the boy pushed Brandon right out of his seat. Brandon landed on the floor with a heavy thud and the boy grinned as he sat down deliberately in the vacant seat.

  Brandon knew there was no way he could shove the other boys out of their chairs even if he could get to that side of the room in time. He had to think fast, or he was going home.

  “Runt!” Tony hissed at him from a few desks away. Brandon looked at Tony and it was almost as if he could read his mind. Brandon rushed over to Tony and slid down on his lap. He faced forward and sat there looking as calm as the others as the game ended.

  No one spoke. A few of the kids close by laughed and pointed, but Tony and Brandon just sat at their desk normal as could be. Wesley walked towards the two and stopped in front of them.

  “Time’s up and I see no one standing,” he said with a frown. “I swear we had one more kid than desk available, but every desk is filled properly. I don’t see anyone spilling over into the aisle or sitting on the desk tops.”

  Wesley stood silently, waiting. Finally Brandon looked up at him. Wesley winked at him, and Brandon could tell he was proud of the creative solution the boys had found by working together.

  “Every single one of you should thank Brandon and Tony sometime before lights out. One of you would have lost an all-out fight with another your size and likely gone home. Because of the two clever boys sitting in one desk, you all get to stay and play more interesting games than this one.”

  Wesley paused to let what he had just said sink in.

  “There will be no more elimination games today,” Wesley announced. “Everyone head to room 212. We will begin in ten minutes.”

  Brandon jumped off of Tony’s lap and gave him a slap on the shoulder. “Thank you, Tony, you saved me today. How can I repay you?”

  Tony laughed and tapped his chest quickly three times before touching Brandon on the shoulder. “I have a feeling you might repay the favour once or twice, Runt.”

  Brandon smiled. “You can count on it, friend.”

  Chapter 12

  “Well, it looks like your boy hasn’t failed out of the trials yet, Wesley,” the Administrator said.

  “No, sir,” Wesley said. “He made it through the admission process successfully.”

  “I’ve been monitoring the reports as they come in, but they aren’t terribly detailed. How did Brandon truly do during the process?”

  “Out of fifty applicants, twenty will be accepted,” Wesley said. “Of the twenty who are accepted, Brandon was ranked number nine.”

  “Very positive results for the youngest applicant ever.”

  “He’s very smart,” Wesley said. “From everything I’ve witnessed he could have easily been ranked number one or two.”

  “Then why wasn’t he?”

  “He positioned himself to be number nine.” Wesley said. “He knew how to place in each game so that he finished exactly where he wanted.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Wesley laughed. “I watched him throw games. He would be in the lead of a particular game, and then for no reason he’d back off to finish worse than he should have.”

 
“Ridiculous,” the Administrator said.

  “That’s what the other instructors said,” Wesley nodded. “I kept very close tabs on what he was doing, though. Most didn’t notice what was going on, or they explained it away. ‘He simply sprinted too soon and couldn’t hold the pace until the end of the race,’ or ‘The first few puzzles were easy for him to see, but when it got tougher the others caught up and passed him’.”

  “But you disagreed?”

  “Absolutely,” Wesley said. “I began to wonder when his rankings hit a consistent target each time.”

  “What target was that?”

  “During the entire trial process, Brandon was one rank higher than the elimination rank.”

  The Administrator laughed. “So when they were cutting kids at forty…?”

  “Brandon was ranked 39,” Wesley confirmed. “To confirm my suspicions I lied to them all one day. I told them we were eliminating to a false number.”

  “The boy ended up being one above that?” the Administrator guessed.

  “Exactly,” Wesley smiled. “When I announced I had made an error, Brandon laughed out loud and winked at me. The boy is in his element, sir.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” the Administrator said. “We couldn’t challenge him here, and I didn’t know what to do with him if he failed out. Any other interesting news not contained in the updates?”

  “Yes,” Wesley said. “He’s forming his own Hand.”

  It wasn’t uncommon for players to want to emulate their heroes; often player groups would form in an attempt to become dominant teams throughout their time in the game facility. Some of them even attempted to form a team of the entire 20 members, calling themselves the ‘Junior General’s Avatars.’ The General’s ‘D’ Avatar had been formed that way and they were a very effective team on the world stage.

  “He’s building a core team of five from his group before he even gets accepted,” the administrator said. “Is it fully formed?”

  “Not yet. He wants to keep one spot open for the thumb. The word is that Brandon expects to attract an exceptional Sponsor to help guide him and his team. He’s saving the last spot for that person.”