Cooper answered immediately, “Thorn. The popularity of Tygon 3.0 wasn’t anticipated. There have been interactive online games around for decades and none of those have ever resulted in this type of problem.”
“It’s the immersion aspect of it,” Brandon said. “There should have been some type of control over who went in, a limit to how long each session could last… perhaps adults shouldn’t have been allowed to play it.”
“All good ideas, but it’s a little late to implement them now. We need to help Thorn get this situation under control. I’ve told you what the General has Carl doing. We can’t help the General or we’ll all end up being his slaves.”
“I have an idea, Cooper, about how to fix this.”
“Which part?” Cooper asked.
“All of it.” Brandon seemed possessed; Cooper wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he nodded.
“How can I help?” Cooper asked.
Brandon scribbled a list of names and handed it to Cooper. “Get me Carl and the other players on this list. I don’t care how you do it, or what favours you have to call in, Cooper, but I need these people to go into the thirty year Sim with me.”
Cooper couldn’t put his finger on it, but his gut told him that he had to help Brandon get what he was asking for. “Give me the names,” he said. “I’ll do my best. ”
Chapter 63
Lohkam opened his eyes and quickly closed them. He made his right hand into a tight fist and put it to his forehead. Tapping the middle part of his head, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“No!” he yelled. “I told you I couldn’t do this again, dammit!”
The entry room for both the Sim and Tygon was plain, undecorated, and white, but this room was a clearly a bedroom that belonged to a teenager.
Posters covered the dark blue walls, clothes were thrown on the floor, and the far wall had a shelf with books and trophies on it. Thorn sat on a chair beside the bed, staring pleasantly at Lohkam. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in this,” he said.
Lohkam’s eyes flashed angrily. He jumped up from the bed and grabbed a letter opener off the desk, holding it to his throat. “I have a choice,” he said. “I can rip my throat out now, and ride on out.”
Thorn shook his head, “You know better than that, Lohkam,” he said. “The consequences of suicide have been explained since your first orientation day.”
Lohkam growled and threw the blade. It sunk into the wall with a solid thunk. “Fine, then,” he said. “I’ll sit here and waste my entire life.” He glanced at the computer in the corner of his room. “I’ll play video games and eat pizza for the next twenty years until my bloated, sick body gives up and dies. I’ll exit the Sim that way; it’s one of the acceptable ways to kill myself, right?”
“If you want,” Thorn shrugged. “It’s stupid, but entirely within your rights to waste a play.”
“Then that’s how I’ll play it,” Lohkam nodded.
“I didn’t think you’d let Brandon win so easily, but I guess it must get tiring losing to someone better than you for so many years.”
Lohkam stiffened at the mention of Brandon’s name. “Why’d you have to bring up the Runt?” he asked.
Thorn smiled, “Because he’s doing a thirty year Sim, too.”
“I’m guessing all the leaders are doing one,” Lohkam said. “Since I specifically asked not to and I’m still here, anyone else who did the same likely got the same treatment.”
“You’re correct, Lohkam. The real world is a colossal mess and I need everyone to do their part.”
“Our part?” Lohkam yelled. “What do you expect us to do? You’re an adult and you’ve managed to mess things up. What do you expect kids like us to do?”
“You’re not regular kids. After you complete this second Sim you’ll have the experiences and knowledge from having lived over seventy years. Plus you’ll still be in a young body. All of you are more than regular children. You’re much more than the General anticipated, and one of you could very well help save the world.”
“The world’s not gonna end, and none of us are gonna help to save it.”
Thorn shook his head. “You have no clue what’s happening in the Dream right now. Pay attention this time, Lohkam, and over the next thirty years you’ll see why the Tygon 3.0 game became so addictive and destructive.”
“Is this Tygon 3.0?” Lohkam asked.
“No, this is Tygon 1.0. It’s a secure, standalone server with a billion NPCs living lives that mirror how our world was until a short time ago. The NPCs believe that they are as real as you and I. They are born, they grow up, work, love and struggle. Then they die. For them, this is real life. Most of them don’t believe they get another one when this ends.”
Lohkam stood and glared at Thorn for a moment. Finally he sat back down on the bed. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
Thorn stood in front of Lohkam. “Life in the Facilities and then the Sim didn’t allow you to feel like you were a member of your own race,” he said. “The General spent all his effort to make you into soldiers, but I need you to be citizens.”
“Why?” Lohkam looked confused.
Thorn didn’t expect him to understand, but he answered anyway. “Because if you feel like you are truly a part of this world, then perhaps you’ll want to use your considerable gifts to help save the real world when you return to us. Gain some knowledge and empathy for your race, then be ready to work hard to save it when you come back.”
Chapter 64
“Are you going to kill me?” Thorn asked. He sat across from the General looking like a veteran lion tamer who’d just realized he’d made a terrible miscalculation.
“I haven’t decided yet,” the General said. “I likely should have killed you a year ago, but it looks as if I missed my opportunity. If I eliminate you now, then I’m forced to try and fix this entire mess on my own.”
Thorn nodded. “I know for a fact,” the General continued, “that there have been moments when you thought of eliminating me as well.”
“Certainly,” Thorn confirmed. “There always seemed to be something that made it not quite the perfect opportunity, which held me back. I assume those little ‘somethings’ were orchestrated by you to help keep me from making the attempt?”
“Of course,” the General smiled. “You did the same, and I assume for similar reasons?”
“Yes,” Thorn said. “Now here we sit, the world crumbling to ruin around us, and I think for the first time since we first met, each of us is absolutely safe from the other.”
“Weird how the world works, isn’t it?” the General said.
“Most of the time.”
The two men sat and considered the situation. Finally, the General spoke up.
“I can’t rule a nation that no longer functions,” he said.
“I can’t get subscription fees from people who don’t bother to go to work to make money,” Thorn responded. “I have some ideas that require your cooperation. I think we can slow this degeneration down, and if we’re lucky, reverse it.”
The General thought for a moment. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“How many regular citizens belong to you, General?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Don’t pretend with me, sir,” Thorn said. “Your endgame might be too bold for many to envision, but I’ve seen more than most. How many Centre graduates — how many people who wear your Infinity symbol, and are loyal to their loving ‘Father’ — exist in our society today as a result of your decades of quiet scheming?”
“A significant number,” the General admitted. “Approximately one quarter of our society belongs to me. Most of them hold positions of power and influence within their communities.”
“Or they are in the military,” Thorn stated.
“Of course. The military belongs entirely to me.”
“How many years have you spent building this force, sir?”
“This will be
the thirtieth year of my plan. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Thorn said, but his mind was curious. The Elite leaders had completed and were now in the midst of another thirty year simulation… An odd coincidence, he thought. When Thorn had come up with the number it had been random — or so he’d thought.
“Are your people playing Tygon 3.0?” Thorn asked.
“I would assume so. Video games were never a problem, and therefore not forbidden, until this one came along.”
“All right. I know you’ve never gone into the Sim, General, but I have a few strategies that I want to show you for halting and reversing the situation. The most effective way for me to do that is to take you inside the Sim and show them to you.” Thorn opened a cabinet and brought out two golden VR helmets. “I think it’s time that you came in and took a look around, don’t you?”
The General paused for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. “Yes, I think a visit to the Sim is long overdue, Mr. Thorn.”
Thorn nodded and moved to place one of the helmets on the General’s head. “It works the same as the copy that you tried to use before from your designers. Count backwards from ten to one and wait in the room when you open your eyes. I’ll come and get you, and from there we can go to the main centre. Once we get there, I can present the ideas that I think will work best to get us back on track with minimal loss of life.”
The General nodded and Thorn flipped the switch to activate the helmet.
The General started to count backwards slowly from ten and Thorn quickly sat down and put his helmet on. He wanted to get into the Sim immediately so that he could meet the General right away. He was about to hit his helmet’s power switch when he heard something strange coming from the General’s helmet. Thorn lifted his visor and looked in the General’s direction.
As the General reached the count of four, his helmet made another sound, a loud, hollow sounding metallic click.
Throughout the room a woman’s voice announced; “Recognized; General Donovan. Begin process Zeta. Mark.”
Thorn tore his helmet off and rushed to the General’s side. During the thousands of activations he’d witnessed, he’d never heard anything like this before.
The General stood up from his seat and lay down gently on the floor. He continued to count backwards, but as he reached zero his breathing became shallow, and Thorn noticed that he wasn’t grinning.
Now Thorn immediately knew that something was seriously wrong. During the early days of prototype development, it was counterproductive to stop the helmet and ask if it was working, so they had built in the grin function. If a subject was properly immersed in the Sim, the corners of their mouth would turn up slightly and form a grin. The General appeared to be inside the Sim, but he wasn’t grinning. Not at all.
Thorn grabbed his helmet and quickly put it on. He counted down to ten and opened his eyes inside the Sim, a process he was very familiar with by now. He threw open the white door and raced to the room where the General would be waiting…
Thorn swore loudly and ran towards the main control room.
The General wasn’t there.
Chapter 65
“Is something wrong?” Cooper asked. Thorn looked shaken as he entered the room to talk with Brandon and his group.
“It can wait,” Thorn said. He sat down, put his hands flat on the table and stretched them as far out as they could go, then he took a deep breath with his head facing downwards, and exhaled as he looked up. His frown became a smile, and he nodded to the people surrounding him.
“Is everyone here?” he asked.
“Everyone is here, sir,” Brandon said. “I appreciate you doing this; bringing them all together.”
“All of you know what you’re about to enter into, and you all agree to join Brandon in this simulation?”
There were twelve individuals sitting around the table. Thorn made eye contact and waited for them to nod before moving to the next person. He wanted to make certain that everyone realized that they would be spending three months on a table in a controlled coma, and thirty years living a full life inside Tygon 1.0. Of the twelve, five were Brandon and his Hand. The others whom Brandon had requested were no real surprise; they were influential players with serious skills who joined Brandon whenever they could.
Carl was present; he looked refreshed and much more alert Cooper had gone to great lengths to bring him out of the field, and help him become unBlurred. Carl still didn’t know that the thousands of innocents he’d killed in cold blood were real people. The killings had been the General’s attempt to cause fear among players, but the threat of psychotic killers coming in and killing players while they were playing Tygon 3.0 hadn’t slowed anyone down from subscribing or playing as the General had hoped.
Thorn frowned slightly as his eyes came to rest on the final member of Brandon’s chosen group. “Wesley? What are you doing here?”
“I want him with me,” Brandon said, “and he agreed to come.”
Thorn raised his eyebrows questioningly at Wesley, and the man nodded. “With your permission, sir, I would like to join them. I’m of no use here at the moment, and if they can find something for me to do to help, then I’m happy to try.”
Thorn looked at Cooper, who nodded slightly. “Okay, that’s fine,” Thorn said. “Now, before we send you in, would you please tell me what you’re planning on doing with all of these extra accomplices?”
“You said that you had plans to implement out here, but first you wanted the Elites to live one more lifetime to become adept at quantum computing and designing,” Brandon said.
“That’s right,” Thorn said. “After you all come out with the experience we want you to get, that will leave us six to nine months to implement actions on a global scale with the goal of safely ending this crisis.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Brandon asked.
“Then we’ve done our best and we move forward ,” Thorn said.
“How would you like to double your chances for a solution?”
Thorn leaned forward. “I’m listening,” he said.
===
They sat at their regular table in the mess hall. The other tables were empty, but the cooks had come in to prepare a meal for them before they entered Tygon 1.0 for their long simulation.
Everyone joked and talked; it was like being a kid again on a good day in the Facility, even though good days had been far and few between.
After the meal, Brandon stood up to address the group. “This simulation is a bit different from others. Some of us have done it before, but some haven’t. I’m going to tell you how it should go and then cover our basic plan. Interrupt me with questions any time.”
The others nodded and Brandon began the briefing. “We’ll be placed in avatars that match our current appearance and age. With one billion NPCs in the simulation, there will be more than a few avatars that match us, but most of us will likely end up being placed far from each other when we start off.”
Brandon paused to see if this raised any questions, but the group seemed to understand. “When we enter our avatars, the consciousness from that avatar is deleted.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” one of the kids said.
“How do you mean?” Brandon asked.
“We’re killing a person to take their place.”
“No, we’re not,” another shook his head and laughed. “They’re computer programs, with pre-programmed everything. They aren’t real, or important.”
“Good,” Brandon smiled. “I’m glad this came up. Let’s deal with it now and all come to an agreement.”
“About what?” Tony said.
“How to treat the population of the world we’re about to join,” Easton said.
“I think we treat them like we would each other,” Kay said. “They will be just like us, in shape, thought, and form. Our avatars will interact with their avatars. Our brain patterns will match theirs. We treat them like we treat each other, simple as that.”
/> “Does anyone disagree?” Brandon asked.
“They aren’t real,” Carl said. Others nodded in agreement.
“They will be very real to us for the next thirty years,” Brandon said. “We will be just as unreal, if you want to look at it that way.”
“But we come back here,” Carl said.
“As long as nothing goes wrong with the transfer,” Alan said. “There have been some kids lost in the trip out. Does that mean they weren’t real? And who’s to say the NPCs don’t go somewhere as well? Maybe it’s the mainframe to be debriefed and recycled, but that’s still a place for them to go.”
“I can tell you all from experience,” Brandon said, “that this can become a confusing topic. The easiest thing to do is agree that everything in the simulation is real, because it is. We feel it, we affect it, we live with the repercussions of each choice we make. I say we choose to value the citizens of Tygon as real entities.”
“What if a million of them die, or suffer?” Wesley asked.
“Then we react the same way we normally would,” Brandon said. “A million people could die from starvation playing Tygon 3.0, followed by millions more. I hear that number and although it’s a shame, it doesn’t change the way I live my life, for the most part.”
“I agree,” Easton said. “It’s not a war game that we’re entering. Let’s play it correctly. We value and respect NPCs because they are real beings.”
No one else disagreed. Brandon looked around and everyone nodded, although some shrugged their shoulders indifferently. “Okay, then, back to the plan. When we are solidly in place, the mainframe will reset the names to match ours, so when we go to bed and wake up everyone will call us by our names. Then we begin our lives at our current age. Some of us will have to finish school, some will have jobs they need to go to. We continue on the path we inherit until we are eighteen years old inside the Sim. Sound good to everyone?”
Everyone nodded.
“We need to find each other sooner than that, though. Tygon 1.0 uses social media the same as ours, so we will use the catch phrase ‘Thorn Protects The Sim.’ Start a blog, make a website, do something, so we can track each other by looking for that phrase.”
Interlude-Brandon (The Game is Life) Page 21