Brandon grabbed another plate of food and sat down. He took a bite and waved his hand. “That’s it for now; we get into the simulation, gain our bearings, and we contact each other. We can talk about the rest inside when the time is right. Any questions?”
No one said a word.
“Good,” Brandon said. “Let’s have some fun and get old.”
Chapter 66
The General opened his eyes. The room looked exactly like the last time he’d attempted to enter into the Sim; the door was even in the same place in the wall.
He knew his instructions were to remain in the room, but curiosity got the better of him and he went to the door and attempted to open it. This time it opened with a soft click. He stuck his head into the hallway, peering left and right. A plain white hallway extended both directions with a closed door at one end, exactly how Thorn had said that it would appear.
The General nodded and closed the door. His instructions were to wait for Thorn, and he would wait, even though he was excited about finally getting to tour what he had hired Thorn to create.
The General had always been cautious, especially as his career grew. Kill a few people, then a few more, then take children who showed genetic potential away from their families to raise according to his plan… that kind of thing could eventually come back to bite a person if they weren’t careful. The past thirty years had been full of challenges, but the plan was sound. Taking each step had enabled him to make the next, more difficult one.
He had convinced himself early on that he wasn’t doing this for himself, he was doing it to save his people.
As a young soldier, Donovan had been different. He’d moved up the ranks through skill and by creating networks and allies in all aspects of both military and private life. His family had helped, of course. Donovan came from generations of wealthy leaders and public figures; his family connections ran far and deep. Before Donovan had drawn his first breath, his father had already made plans and set goals for his son’s entire life.
His upbringing, instilled values, and family connections had paved the way, but it was Donovan’s ingenuity and ideas that had set the stage for his long term goals and plans after he became a General. His father wanted Donovan to become President, but after living in the system and seeing the limited potential which could come from that, he'd decided to change the entire political system instead. A normal person would never consider such a thing, but the General saw it all very clearly. He understood from his extensive study of history that special men during critical moments could affect monumental changes to the world, and he’d decided that his father’s goal wasn’t nearly ambitious enough for him to pursue.
Donovan had developed an intricate and long term plan to reach his goal. Thirty years… a period too long for most people to comprehend, much less execute, but after he’d spent years developing it, he knew it was his life’s calling. To lead a world inhabited by a population of devout followers.
As the final year approached completion, Donovan knew he was close to getting exactly what he’d been striving for.
Tygon 3.0 appeared to be a catastrophe in progress, but Donovan had seen many threats to his plans before. He’d managed to deal with them all, and he was confident that with Thorn’s help they would bring this latest situation under control. With cleverness and hard work, and the bit of luck that always accompanied anyone truly successful, the General was certain that he was only months away from removing the President and installing himself as the nation’s new leader.
The door opened, interrupting the General’s thoughts. He stood and brought his full thoughts to the crisis at hand. He was interested to see what ideas Thorn had to fix this problem.
It wasn’t Thorn who entered the room, however. The General took a slight step backward, and his practiced façade of control faltered as he stared at the man facing him.
The man’s face lit up at the General’s reaction. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, deliberately taking his time to savour the moment as he turned to face the General.
“What’s the matter, Donovan?” there was danger in his tone, and the promise of much pain, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The General quickly regained his bearing. In a confident, commanding tone he answered, “It’s not often I’m surprised, but I certainly am right now.”
Brad laughed, his eyes filled with hatred and madness. “The surprises are only beginning, General. I promise you that.”
Chapter 67
Brandon opened his eyes and looked slowly around his room, making a complete circuit before stopping to look at Thorn, who was sitting in a chair beside his bed.
“Is this real?”
Thorn’s mouth twitched into a sly grin, “Well… no, it’s a simulation.”
Brandon laughed, “I know that! Am I in a bedroom or a house? This room is huge! It looks like my avatar is a rich kid.”
“He is indeed, a very rich kid, Brandon.” Thorn smiled, enjoying the look of happiness on Brandon’s face. He’d always felt bad for this poor boy. His parents killed, abandoned by his only remaining kin, then sent to live the life of a slave to a megalomaniac bent on world domination. Every parent wanted to give their children the best possible life, and this was Thorn’s attempt to do that for Brandon. It also happened to fit in with what Brandon would need if he was to have a chance to pull off his plans, but that was a happy coincidence.
“Which makes me a very rich kid,” Brandon laughed and threw himself back into the huge soft bed. “What’s my last name here?” he asked.
“Your last name is Strayne,” Thorn had built this avatar custom perfect , even down to the last name. Brandon would never know that his new surname was his true one, but Thorn would know, and that was something.
“Brandon Strayne,” Brandon said it out loud and nodded his head. “That’s a very good name.”
“It sure is.”
“So what about the parents?”
“Sorry on that end of things,” Thorn said. “Your mom isn’t around, and your dad is a super successful computer genius who’s always travelling.”
“That’s handy, considering that you want me to learn quantum computing and design,”
“It’s your reward for learning it already,” Thorn said. Brandon had spent his first thirty year Sim becoming a computing expert. Of all the teams, Brandon’s had the greatest advantage. His exceptional talents, combined with thirty years of experience already in computing, would help his odds of finding a solution to the problem occurring in the Dream.
“Your father is never here. I’m sorry, Brandon, but you won’t have much of a childhood during this Sim.”
Brandon stood up and grabbed Thorn in a sincere hug. “That’s okay,” he said, “my first thirty year Sim was incredible. I had the best parents and family life a person could ever dream of having. Besides, I already have a Father who takes good care of me.”
Thorn hugged the boy back, closing his eyes and losing himself in the warmth and emotion of being loved with such sincerity. Despite the way life had played out to this point, Brandon was a passionate boy who sincerely cared about the special people in his life.
They hugged for a long moment before Brandon let go. Thorn blinked his eyes rapidly to make the tears disappear as best as he could before he stepped back to face the boy.
“I’m very proud of you, Brandon,” Thorn said. “If anyone can find a solution, it’s you.”
“Thank you, Father. I’ll do my best to make you proud.”
Thorn knew the next thirty years would be hard on their relationship. There would be times that Brandon would hate him, but that would be necessary if he was to get Brandon to work and develop to his fullest potential. “I know you will, Son,” he said.
“Can you tell me where the others ended up?” Brandon asked. He walked over to his desk and turned on the desktop computer, expertly pulling up a program to make notes for reference.
“I was able to put you
r Hand members close to you,” Thorn said. “Tony and Kay are in your high school, and Alan and Easton are just a few blocks outside your school zone. You’ll be able to spend a lot of time with all of them.”
“That’s great news,” Brandon said. “What about the others?”
“Some of them are close, others you might not meet in person for a few years since they are on other continents.” Thorn shook his head. “I did the best we could, but you sprang some of them on me last minute.”
“I did,” Brandon nodded. “It’s no problem. Are Carl and Wesley close?”
Thorn shook his head, “Wesley is an adult, so he’ll likely quit his job and start making his way towards you. As for Carl,” Thorn didn’t look pleased. “The absolute best avatar I could find for him to inhabit has put him in some… unpleasant conditions.”
“That’s fine,” Brandon said. “I’m not worried about Carl, he’s very resilient. He will leave his placement early, likely, and find his way here.”
Thorn nodded. “The rules for this game are on your computer. Learn them well. There are stages you can unlock, outside help you can bring in under certain circumstances, and a large assortment of other perks and rewards. Rules and prices for cheating death or, if someone gets killed, we might be able to put them back in. All of it is costly, though, so learn the game well. I will continue to do what I can, although it won’t be very much, Son. This has to be your solution. My involvement could prevent you from going down a path that would lead to our salvation.”
“I understand, Father,” Brandon said. “Will I see you again soon?”
“You will only be allowed so many visits, including myself and others,” Thorn said, “but yes, we will see each other again soon.”
The white door appeared, signalling Thorn’s time to depart had arrived. Brandon ran over and gave him another fierce hug, which Thorn returned with as much fervour.
“Good luck, Son.”
Brandon smiled as Thorn walked towards the doorway. “Thanks, Dad.”
After Thorn disappeared, Brandon looked around for a moment. Then, remembering the hard bunk that he’d spent most of his thirteen years sleeping on, he ran back to jump into his huge comfortable bed. Saving the world could wait for another hour or two.
===
Thorn and Cooper sat together, eating a meal. The two men were so busy that the only way to fit it all in was to do more than one activity at the same time.
“Did Brandon’s group go in?” Cooper asked.
“Yes,” Thorn said. “Each of the Elite teams are now inside their own private worlds.”
“Some of them have interesting plans,” Cooper said.
“That’s what they were selected and trained to do,” Thorn said, “come up with plans and execute them. The General believed that games could produce extraordinary results, and he was right. We’ve seen things over the years that most would never believe. I always loved the idea, even when I didn’t agree with the specific tasks he was trying to accomplish.”
“Do you think any of them can do it?”
“I don’t know,” Thorn said, “but I’ve pointed them all in the right direction. Brandon was right; doubling our odds of success is much better than a single chance.”
Cooper chuckled. “Yes, and if each team makes a solid attempt, then we have thirty chances to find a solution within the next three months.”
Thorn looked up from his food. “How many?” he asked.
“Thirty,” Cooper said. “That’s how many teams we just put into simulations. You knew that.”
“I didn’t really pay attention to the number before,” Thorn said. “How many years does the simulation last?” he asked.
“Thirty years.”
“Do you know how long the General’s plan was?” Thorn asked. “His life plan for world domination that’s in its final year?”
Cooper shook his head, then he saw Thorn’s look and took a guess. “Thirty?”
“That’s right.”
“Does it mean anything, or is it just coincidence?”
“I’ve lived in computer simulations myself,” Thorn admitted. “You’ve done three tours, I’ve done six.”
Cooper whistled, “180 years, Doc, that’s a lot of living.”
“It is,” Thorn nodded. “When you get to live a certain amount of years, you stop calling it coincidence, and start calling it fate.”
“So what’s it mean?”
“I have no idea,” Thorn admitted. “Perhaps we won’t live long enough to know.”
The two men ate quietly. During desert, Cooper asked another question.
“Any idea where the General is?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Thorn said, “but if he’s in the Sim, we have to find him, and soon.”
Chapter 68
The General couldn’t move his head. They’d somehow rendered him immobile, even though nothing was physically touching his body.
At one point, as they released him from their invisible grip and he’d tumbled towards the cold, hard floor, he’d thought to himself, I really should have used the Sim for torture. Then he’d felt his face smash hard into the floor and his mouth had erupted into blazes of pain as his teeth broke, followed soon after by the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.
The worst part of the torture was waking up feeling great, and looking down to see not a single scratch or mark on his body. The General had learned how easy it was to repair an avatar so that it could be destroyed yet again. The days when he felt the best had become the most terrifying, because it meant they were about to start from the beginning and hurt him all over again.
Decades of easy living as the top man in the system, with years of having neglected his physical training, protected from harm by bodyguards, had made the General an easy subject to torture. On most days, less than five minutes into a session he was begging to tell them anything they wanted to hear. The General wasn’t proud of it, but it was the plain and simple truth.
Of course they hadn’t asked him for any information. Brad came in every morning, made some polite small talk and drank a cup of coffee. Then he went to the sink, washed his hands, and approached the General to begin the daily session of pain.
It was impossible to know how long he’d been here, but it seemed like eternity.
“Good morning, Donovan,” Brad said as he opened the door. He swung it shut with his foot. He had two cups of coffee in his hands this morning, and a bag that must have some food in it. This was new.
“I thought we could take a little break and enjoy a hot beverage and a sinful pastry treat together. Would you like that, sir?”
Brad was being polite and respectful, two things that he’d not bothered to be since the General came here, but the General was too tired and worn down to mention it. He nodded his head slightly, hoping Brad could see the gesture, which apparently he did.
“That’s wonderful, sir,” Brad smiled. “I think we’ll just have a little talk today, and if everything goes well, we can see about giving you a rest from our daily sessions. How does that sound?”
The General bit his lip to keep from weeping in relief and nodding his head wildly. Instead he blinked back the traitorous tears forming in his eyes as best as he could, and nodded slightly twice.
“That’s great,” Brad said. He pulled up two chairs and set the coffee and bag down beside one. He walked over to the General and, with a simple wave of his hand, released the invisible bonds that held him suspended in place.
They always left him anchored there against the wall when they were done with him; standing upright with his arms stretched outwards. Lack of blood flow and movement for so long had robbed him of his basic strength. The General fell to the ground with a heavy thud, where he lay unmoving. Brad stood over him with a pleasant look on his face, but made no motion to help the General stand. “I’m afraid if you want your treat, you’ll have to come get it yourself.”
Brad walked back and sat comfortably in one chair, reaching down t
o grab a coffee. He took a sip and pointedly looked away from the General, gazing with intense interest at some imaginary point on the wall. The General began to flop his arms and slowly moved his way towards the chair. Inch by painful inch, after what seemed like an eternity the weakened old man finally made it to the chair. He half leaned against it and panted for breath, his lungs burning and all of his strength used. With a look of desperation he croaked out the word, ‘help’ and raised his hand slightly towards Brad.
Brad looked down at the General. His face softened and he nodded with mock sympathy. “Well done, sir, well done! Here, let me help you the rest of the way.” He lifted a hand and the General floated into the air and came to rest on the chair. He slowly began to slide sideways, but a strong invisible force held him securely. This time he was glad for the support.
Brad handed the second coffee to the General, who accepted it with a shaky hand and took a sip. It should have been cold after sitting so long, but it was scalding hot. The General burned his lip and the roof of his mouth, but he didn’t flinch or care. After the things that had been done to him he barely felt the pain. He blew on the coffee and took rushed, greedy sips, afraid that Brad would suddenly change his mind and take the delicious liquid from him.
Brad sat comfortably as if they were two old friends sitting on a park bench on a lovely summer’s day. “You’ve probably been wondering how I managed to stay alive,” Brad said. He looked sideways at the General, who nodded weakly as if he was nodding off to sleep. “I guess I should thank you for putting that RFID in my neck and not my head. When you activated it I was landing in your enemies’ airport. I know you said they wouldn’t be interested in helping me, but it turns out that they were. That nasty little explosive blew quite the hole in my throat. There was a lot of pain and blood. It’s hard to describe but don’t worry, eventually I’ll let you experience that sensation a few times, then you’ll have a better understanding of what I mean. Anyway, they had a medical team right there in the plane with me and as soon as I blew, they got to work on me. I almost died a few times, but medical professionals really are amazing. They eventually fixed me up and put me into hiding so your spies wouldn’t know that I had survived.”
Interlude-Brandon (The Game is Life) Page 22