by Dante Doom
"Bah, he's fine. Alive and kicking. Mopey, though; doesn't even seem to want to come out of his pod. I wanted to smack him around – you know, for sport – but he seemed too bummed out for even me."
"We did it, Neil," Sang said. "We destroyed the game."
"I know, it's on the news. Everyone's talking about why the most advanced video game in the world has been completely disabled. Draco's spokesmen are suspiciously silent, and their social media hasn't made a peep. You should have been here when the game went down. All of the pods opened up at once and the players were released."
"There were players still in the game?"
"Nah, but they were trapped in their pods still," Neil replied. "We figured out which ones were the smart ones and took them out back and played a very spirited round of twenty questions."
Sang grimaced. "Are they still alive?"
"None the worse for wear; most of them started bawling when they realized the big bad CIA had them in their clutches. We've got some good leads as to the rest of the locations now. We're turning the case over to the FBI, though."
"What? Why?"
"We're done with the cyber-terrorism stuff; now it's just domestic terrorism, which is the FBI's deal. They'll be busting locations, finding these guys, and making sure all of the traitors are brought to justice in a timely fashion."
"Is the world going to know the truth?" Sang asked. "About Draco?"
Neil laughed at that. "What do you think? You think the government ever wants the people to know about this? We've discovered life on other planets, intelligent and violent life, and you think Uncle Sam is just ready to hand that information over to the public? This whole thing will be chalked up to a terrorist incident and all of the ringleaders will be conveniently persuaded to forget! The people who do end up in jail will be made to look like cult leaders or whatever."
"But… the whole world is going to change now, Neil," Sang replied. "We have confirmation of alien life… everything changes!"
"Nothing changes," O'Hara said as she walked in from another room. She grabbed the apple out of Neil's hand and began to eat it, almost as noisily as her partner. "The truth is, Sang, all of our evidence vanished with that damn game. I mean, at the end of the day, we managed to keep earth from ending up blowing up or getting hit with wave after wave of nuclear meltdowns, but without any hard evidence, we're SOL here. The highest echelons are going to quietly add this to their collection of alien information, and anyone who's of lower clearance will be told lies upon lies."
"And what about us?" Sang asked. "We know the truth, so are they gonna shoot us out back?"
"Nah," Neil said. "We're gonna be fired."
"Fired?" Sang shouted. Her voice echoed through the corridor on the left. "Fired? We freaking saved the world and we're going to be fired?"
"Relax," Neil said, "we've hit pay dirt here. They're gonna fire us, make up a bunch of filthy lies about our criminal record, and then quietly pay us a crap-ton of money to go away."
"It's called the Roswell Procedure," O'Hara said. "It's every low-level agent's dream: get your retirement package early and get disavowed by the government."
"Think I'm gonna be a mercenary in South America. You in?" Neil asked as he looked over at O'Hara.
"Hell, no – I'm gonna move to some nice country out in Europe. Get me a nice Swedish man or something."
"Well, let's divvy up our time… half in Europe relaxing and half in South America getting in tons of legal and mortal peril," Neil offered.
"Deal!" O'Hara said as she shook Neil's hand. "You coming, Sang?"
"No, I'm…" Sang's words trailed off. "After everything we did for them… they're going to disavow us? We…" her voice went hoarse, "we saved the world."
"Yeah, but this is how it goes when you handle clandestine stuff," O'Hara said. "Sometimes we hit something that's gotta be covered up."
"This isn't fair!" Sang said. "Not in the least!"
"Really?" Neil asked. "What in the hell are you going to do after all of this anyway? Go back to your regular job and work like a jerk? Work 40 hours a week, 60 during a crisis, and shuffle along in a meaningless existence? Maybe you can get another empty apartment that has nothing in it but a shotgun and terrible booze."
"I love my job," Sang replied.
"Sure you do," O'Hara said. "You loved it enough to risk it all for your partner several months ago. You loved it enough to go rogue and risk a ton of prison time to steal government property and commit espionage without a license."
"Let's face it, Sang," Neil said. "You're the kind of person who craves adventure. The CIA is gonna hold you back. This isn't a curse, but a blessing."
"I have no idea what to do with my life!" Sang said. "I… I…" her words trailed off as she shook her head. "I feel exactly how Van feels right now."
"Ha, that's gotta suck on so many levels," Neil said. "Well, if you're interested in some international adventure and relaxation, let me know. Fredrick Yuri's gonna be here in a few hours to give us our walking papers."
"I can't believe you two are okay with this," Sang said. "I can't believe it."
Neil shrugged. "Eh, I've been disappeared from two other governments before this one, and let me tell you, this method is a lot nicer than the other two's preferences."
Sang shoved past them both and headed toward one of the rooms. She didn't know where Van was, but she didn't want to be around the two callous agents.
"If you're looking for Van, go the other way," O'Hara called after her. Sang took a sharp breath and turned around, trying not to glare at them as she walked past them again. She walked into another one of the rooms where she found a mass of silver pods. There were dozens of them, and Sang could see that they were all open, except for one. It was only slightly cracked open, and she could see that someone was in there.
Sang walked over to the pod and knocked on it. "Anyone home?" she asked as she slowly opened it.
Van was laying on his back, just staring upwards. He glanced at her and sighed heavily. "Hi."
"You know, for someone who just saved the entire universe from a terrible threat, you seem pretty upset," Sang said as she sat on the edge of the pod and looked down at him.
"I had to say goodbye to my entire life," Van replied. "I don't know what grief is supposed to feel like, but I’m pretty sure that I’m experiencing it."
"I get it," Sang said as she nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"There's not a hint of sarcasm or irony in your voice when you say that," Van said. "Neil told me he'd buy me a Pac-Man arcade machine to make up for my loss."
"Neil is one of the worst human beings on the planet," Sang said. "I was in that world with you. Not nearly as long as you have been, but… I know what are going through. Maybe I don't feel it as intensely as you do, but in some ways, I'm gonna miss that place, too."
"There was so much wonder and excitement," Van said. "So much joy and happiness. I mean, before you and the CIA came along, I knew exactly how my life was going to turn out. I was going to be happy and I was going to live the kind of life that I've always wanted to live. Then it all changed and I did the right thing. At the end of the day, I did the right thing and I sacrificed everything so selflessly…"
"You really did," Sang said.
"So why do I feel so terrible? You know, when you watch the movies or read the books, whenever the hero does something heroic, he's smiling at the end of the adventure. He doesn't really lose anything. He gets the girl back, he fights the bad guy, he wins respect, and his life is better. But now… now I have nothing. And Neil told me that he might have to smuggle me out of the country in a fruit truck if the CIA considers me to be a security leak."
"I'm pretty sure Neil was joking about that," Sang offered, hoping she was right. "But there's more to a happy ending than just being better off positionally. I mean, sure the stereotypical hero has a better life, but that's not the point of the story. The point of the story is what kind of person that hero becomes after the
adventure."
"And what kind of person am I?" Van asked. "Just some loser without a job."
"Is that what defines you? Your job? If that's the case, then I'm in just as much trouble as you are."
"You're being fired?"
"According to Neil and O'Hara, we're all being retired because we know too much. And if Neil can be believed, the outcome will involve getting paid a ton of money to be quiet."
"That sounds nice," Van said. "I'm not getting a dime for any of this."
Sang sighed heavily. "My entire career is gone now. Everything that I fought so hard for in my life is vanishing before my eyes, and for what? For the fact that I did a good job. It's all going to be scrubbed clean and no one will even know about these aliens."
"That's why I cheat on my taxes," Van said. "Damn government."
"Damn government," Sang echoed. She leaned her head down and shook it vigorously. "I just wish that things could be different for the both of us. I wish that you didn't have to say goodbye to your home, and that I didn't have to say goodbye to my job."
"Yeah," Van replied. There was a silence in the air. "Are… are we going to have to say goodbye to each other, too?"
"What?" Sang asked. She stood from where she'd been sitting and leaned against one of the other pods.
Van sat up and swung his legs around the edge of the pod, kicking his feet a little. "We're at the end of our big adventure. It looks like you're not going to be sticking around with your job, and me, I have no reason to stick around, either. So I guess this is gonna be the end of us adventuring together."
"I didn't really think much about that," Sang said. "Van, it's been crazy how close we've grown together. Back in that last fight, it was like we were in perfect sync. I knew exactly what you were going to do and you… you trusted me to act on my own in the game. We make the perfect team."
"Yeah, we did," Van said. "But now what? Where do we go from here? I guess we can stay friends on Facebook, but that's gonna be it."
Sang frowned. She really didn't want to lose Van. He was a good ally, a fine friend, and above all else, his heart was truly dedicated to doing good – and that was a rare thing to find in a person. The way things were looking right now, they'd just shake hands and go their separate ways.
"Wait!" Sang said, "What about the Xevov? Jet told us that he'd be storing himself inside of the pod, right? Maybe… maybe we can figure out how to help his race."
Van shook his head. "That's insane, Sang. I know Jet was begging us for help, but what are we going to be able to do without the help of the CIA? They're gonna probably scrap all of these pods and send us far away from this place. I'd love to help him out, but I'm just not seeing the government leaping at the chance to save another race from slavery."
"Yeah," Sang said as she sank down even lower onto the ground. "Well, it was worth a thought. So, then, yeah, I guess we're going to have to say goodbye. I mean, unless you want to be my roommate or something."
Van shrugged at that. "And do what? Just hang out and watch TV until someone gives me a job? I'm qualified for literally nothing."
"Maybe we can get Neil to forge you some credentials, make you look like some kind of bigwig. You can go work as a business consultant or something."
"Oh yeah, that's definitely how I want to spend the rest of my life, inside of some office instead of fighting against hordes of barbarians with an axe."
"Look, I'm at least trying to be constructive," Sang said. "You're the one who's determined to be miserable here."
"How can you not be? Sang, at least you can survive in the real world because you have marketable skills. My skills sound ridiculous to the average person. You're gonna end up in some kind of high-powered security firm and I'm gonna be mopping up at a gas station."
"So?" Sang asked. "Maybe there's something more to life than just your job. Maybe you can go to school, or go looking for a wife or something. I dunno. Do whatever normal people do when they're looking for happiness."
"I don't want to be happy, Sang, I just want to do the thing I love, and unless dragons and orcs suddenly arrive in this world, I won't be able to. I am forever separated from the thing I love."
"So… find a new love," Sang said as she looked up at him. Her face was hard and stern. "You are someone who has a powerful passion, Van. You care and you care deeply. You've made choices I never could have, not because you're stronger than me, but because you have a bigger heart than me. You stood up against the tides of destruction, you resisted the urge to become a god among men, and you chose to put your life in danger to save countless other races that you have never even met. You love deeply, so instead of lamenting the loss of an old love, find something new."
"Like what?"
"Saving the galaxy from the Draco," Sang said. "We're looking at the solution right here." She pointed to the pod that Van was sitting on. "Somehow, we can figure out a way to help Jet out."
"You're crazy," Van said. "There's no way we can pull it off."
"Maybe there is," Sang said. She glanced around the room. "We just need two pods and an operator."
"Two pods?" Van repeated. "Are you saying you're going to come with me?"
"Of course," Sang said. "Van, you gave everything up to save humanity and you have saved my life countless times. I don't think I have it in me to go back to the real world and do the boring thing. I don't know how to foment a revolution in a weird new video game, but I sure as hell would follow someone who can."
"You're saying that you'd be willing to follow me across the galaxy into some foreign land to save people you've never met?" Van asked as he folded his arms, looking relatively skeptical of her.
Sang could feel her heart begin to pound as she realized the possibilities in front of her. Did she really want to go back to some boring job working in an office? Did she really want to give up the adventures that she had lived through already? Did she want to lose her best friend? No. She didn't want any of that, so she chose in her heart to push Van to continue the adventure.
"Yes, Van, in a heartbeat. I want to see you live a meaningful life, and I know you've got what it takes to free the Xevov. Hell, you can probably free race after race if we can figure out how the Xevov transmitted themselves. We can go back for those who have been forgotten. We can save countless worlds. And we've already done it once."
Van's lips began to slowly turn up into a smile, but he suppressed it. "Suppose I said yes – what are we going to do?"
"I don't know," Sang said. "But we'll figure it out. We're gonna need some operators to help us out, but… but I think we can do this. All we need to do is get this pod out of the government's hands and we'll be golden."
"Hmmm," Van said as he climbed fully out of the pod. They both looked at it for a moment in pure silence. Sang could see the life slowly returning to Van's face and she knew that his mind was beginning to stir with all of the possibilities. "I don't want to say this," Van said as he slowly shook his head, "but we're going to need Neil and O'Hara's help."
"Leave it to me," Sang said. "I'll go convince them to join."
"And I know someone who might be able to help us out, too – she was the one who broke me out of the pod for a few minutes," Van said. "They've got her handcuffed to a radiator in one of the other rooms."
"Why?" Sang asked.
"Neil said that she was holding back on some information and that she needed some time to think about whether or not she likes being able to, quote, 'eat without the aid of a tube.'"
"Sounds about right," Sang said. "Let me go find the dynamic duo; you go talk to your lead."
Van walked into the back to where the CIA was holding a variety of prisoners. They were all handcuffed and sitting in the back of the mess hall. They had blank expressions on their faces. The more lively ones had been arrested earlier, and Cindy was the only intelligent one that remained. And while Van certainly did need to meet up with Cindy so that he could have a more thorough conversation with her, there was someone else w
ho he needed to see first.
Van spotted Peter sitting on one of the tables, staring blankly ahead. The man had been responsible for saving Van's life, and now it was time for Van to pay the favor back.
"Hey," Van said as he walked up to the red-head.
Peter didn't respond; he merely stared straight ahead.
"You doing okay?" Van asked as he gently placed a hand on Peter's shoulder.
"I'm handcuffed in a strange invisible bunker after having been in the process of being mentally tortured for what felt like a hundred years," Peter replied. "No, I am not okay."
"Well, you seem to have retained your personality," Van said.
"Of course, I retained my personality," Peter growled. "I just wanted to be a professional gamer. All of this talk about the end of the world, aliens, and whatnot – it's a bunch of crazy rubbish. Now the police or whatever are arresting me for being a terrorist? I just wanted to play a stupid video game and earn my ex-wife's respect by turning my hobby into a real job."
"Yeah," Van said as he looked around. Strangely enough, the CIA hadn't bothered to post any guards in the area. They had walked in and secured the place, but after Van had woken up and talked to Neil, most of the CIA goons had gone home. Maybe they didn't have the clearance to be in a place like this.
"Listen," Van said, "I'm really sorry that things haven't worked out as well as you would have liked, but I have something to say to you."
"Oh yeah?" Peter asked as he turned to look at Van. "Say it, then."
"You were in the tournament a while back, right? And the whole thing went lethal."
"Ugh, don't remind me," Peter said. "That was a terrible decision brought on by drinking and lamenting the anniversary of my wife's departure from my house."
"Yeah, and while it was a terrible decision, you were a pretty noble guy."
Peter cocked his head. "How do you know that?'
"Well… I was Fenwar, the guy who you made a deal with," Van said.
"It is a small world," Peter said as he laughed a little. "How is this even possible? Why aren't you in cuffs?"
"Well, I don't know how much I can share with you, so let me be very quick. This whole Draco thing is bad news, and the CIA is involved. You had multiple chances to kill me when I was weak and unarmed, but you chose the moral path – and for that I'm grateful. You probably don't even know how important your decision was, and you probably never will. But I owe you one."