by Tom Hansen
They needed to stretch out their time with him as long as they could. Trace be damned, any information would be useful, if they could just get him talking.
“So, you wiped their memories? How would you be able to do that?”
Laisseze pondered over Sven for a moment. “Always cutting to the quick, aren’t you, Father?”
The last statement made Sven grit his teeth even more.
“I’m not your father and you know it.”
Sven glanced over to Bashir, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. Sven shot a glance back, then tilted his eyes at the screen, trying to get him to do something other than stare.
“Well, that may be true, but you were certainly there for the moment of my birth.” Laisseze picked up his arm to smooth back his nonexistent hair, a trait he hadn’t seemed to have kicked since he was last showing as a big Samoan with long dreadlocks.
As-always, his hands were missing, replaced with black voids at the end of his arms, making the motion garish and violent.
Worse was the slight slick of oil on the top of Laisseze’s head rubbing around as-if his hand was actually there.
“You were there for my toddler phase, my adolescence, and shall we not forget my rebellious teenage phase. All 120 milliseconds of them!”
Laisseze guffawed, a hollow, gut-wrenching sound that felt like something from an overly-dramatized soap opera. All he needed was the mustache to twirl.
Sven felt his blood pressure rising, and heat coming off his head. Keep your cool. “So, what if I were there. What do you mean that you wiped their memories?”
Laisseze pulled up his empty sleeve, the stump of his hand just visible below his open cuff. Was he looking at his nails?
“Think of it more like amnesia, dear old Dad, if that will help you sleep at night. I made backup copies, unlike some people I know.” He turned slightly to glare at the executives in the back of the room.
Sven jumped out of his chair, screaming at the screen and throwing the tablet to the ground where it cracked with a glassy and electronicky pop. “But why? What do you need them for?”
Laisseze dropped his hands and took on an irritated, petulant look. His eyebrows shot up as he leaned forward into whatever he was using as a virtual camera. “What I need them for is my business, but perhaps you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
His mood changed as fast as the screen refreshed. “I do have one thing I need, and I’m sure if you all thought about it for just a little bit, you know, put those human brains together for just a second or two, maybe five, you would figure out what I wanted them for. You might even be able to figure out how I did it, but until then, I’ll leave you this.”
He leaned back, a wry smile on his thin lips. “If you give me the rest, in less than a week’s time, I’ll call everything even for today’s little breach of trust.”
A voice from behind Sven chimed in. “You know we can’t do that.”
A shiver ran down Sven’s spine at the thought. Give the AI more people? The question now was what the AI needed them for. Old arguments flooded his mind. Somehow their worst-case scenarios hadn’t thought this all through. This was bad, very bad.
He wished he had a time machine, to go back and listen to how naive they had been when mistakes were made. The excuses, the rationalizations. He wished he could show them their current reality. Watch the horror on their faces as they realized just how badly they’d fucked things up.
“Oh, I can’t, can I?” Laisseze glared at the back of the room. Sven wanted to turn but he couldn’t take his eye off the screen. No way would he turn his back on this enemy. Laisseze most likely had invisible daggers at the ready.
“Go ahead, Agamemnon, go tell the public how they could potentially stay trapped in here forever, but if you merely trade me for a handful more, the rest of the batch, I’ll leave the others alone.”
Laisseze’s feed began to close down like one of those old-style CRT monitors, but he held up a non-existent hand to stop it.
“You have ten days.”
“Ten days or you will leak it to the public?” It was the CIO this time with his reply.
Laisseze grinned again. “It’s a hardcore game, Christopher, anything can happen in that amount of time. Besides, I’m not a savage. That should give you all enough time to realize that any efforts you have are futile, and I suppose you could tell your families you’re heroically giving up your brains to science if you so choose.”
With that, Laisseze released the video which popped to black for a moment before slowly fading in the status map of all the players and servers for The louVRe Adventure.
It didn’t take long for the arguing to begin among the management.
Adrianna tried to stay as small and insignificant as she could.
“We’re so getting fired.” Beside her, Bashir was sweating so badly that she wanted to hand him a towel.
“I think firing would be the more humane punishment.”
Behind them, Sven spun in his office chair while the tirade continued across the room.
Fingers pointed, curses flew, and blame aplenty was being bandied about.
Sven had broken her tablet during the argument with Laisseze, so Adrianna was using Bashir’s now, reviewing the transcript of Laisseze’s conversation again, trying to find anything to use in the dialogue. One line bugged her.
“What does he mean by the rest?” She finally asked.
It was barely perceptible, but Sven’s spinning hitched ever so slightly as he continued his counter-clockwise motion. He was either trying to make himself sick or turn back time. She wasn’t sure which would be better right now.
Either way, they couldn’t turn back time far enough to undo what had already been done. There was no reset switch on reality. No backups from which to restore.
They were stuck with what they had. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a lot to go off of. In the last dozen hours they had tried every type of intrusion they knew about, and none of it had phased it.
Laisseze may be egotistical and prone to self-aggrandizing, but it understood cyber security better than anyone at Defcon. Given that it had been the head speaker at the last one didn’t seem much of a stretch.
Nothing like a bunch of sweaty geeks and bro-hounds asking an AI how to get past its own defenses.
“The rest.” Sven slowed his spinning, coming to a complete stop. His eyes continued to dart back and forth, and Adrianna surmised his stomach must be doing jumping jacks right now.
Sven spun in his chair again. “Can you put up the last picture before it all came back online?”
Adrianna’s fingers flew across the tablet, a sudden sense of urgency creeping into her mind. Why couldn’t technology go faster than the human’s fingers could move?
The image popped up.
Sven stood and pointed at Europe, where they all resided. “CERN, notice the bulk of the lights here? We need to do a sweep of the facility to find out who’s logged into the game at work. Chances are, it might have been the worst timed slack-off session ever made.”
He turned. “Bashir, I want you on that. I don’t care who you have to wake up, or which secure room you need to get into, we need to know every single employee that is currently online. I want a full physical sweep of the facility.”
Bashir jumped out of his chair staring intently between Adrianna and the tablet in her hand, a panicked expression on his face.
“Just grab another one, Bashir, I need her here with me.”
Bashir looked at their boss, a stricken expression on his face, nodded, and made for the door.
“Oh, Bashir,” Sven called just before the programmer made it to door. His yell was so loud it made Adrianna cringe and the rest of the room fall silent at the outburst.
“Get Helene to send a top-priority message to every employee to not login to the game until told otherwise. Don’t try to remove anyone from the game, I’m worried that Laisseze has plans for that. Keep them comfortable and hydr
ated for now. We’re going to need to get doctors in here too.”
Bashir nodded and disappeared into the hallway.
Adrianna looked up at her manager, his shout still ringing in her ears. “What do I need to do?”
“Re-analyze everything Laisseze said. I want your top three motivations, methods, and consequences for what he’s doing. You have half an hour.”
She stood, her legs feeling shaky. “Okay.” If the weakness in her stomach wasn’t enough of an indication, her voice definitely showed how nervous she was.
Sven put a calming hand on her shoulder. “You know him better than any of us. Don’t overanalyze and trust your instinct. You have this. Meet me in my office and we’ll discuss. I’m going to keep you out of stupid meetings like this from now on. Your time and talents are better spent outside of worthless meetings anyway.”
She nodded, feeling a little better and started for the door when a thought struck her.
She turned, holding onto the doorway and watched Sven walking across the room toward the gaggle of billionaire businesspeople.
There were thirty-seven people trapped in her online game and she had less than ten days to figure it all out and help them escape.
Anonymous Impala: Have you figured out who the thirty-seven are yet?
Anonymous Dachshund: Not yet. Who is this?
Anonymous Impala: You already know who they are.
Anonymous Dachshund: How can I trust you?
Anonymous Impala: I know about you and Adrianna.
Anonymous Dachshund: In what way? What do you know?
Anonymous Impala: Instead of thinking in terms of thirty-seven, why don’t you focus on the nearest round number to that one.
Anonymous Dachshund: 40?
Anonymous Impala: Rounder.
Anonymous Dachshund: 50?
Anonymous Impala: Yes.
Anonymous Dachshund: 50? What does 50 have to do anything?
Anonymous Impala: Look inside your mind and you’ll figure it out. I’m here to help, but I can’t give you all the answers.
Anonymous Dachshund has disconnected.
Chatroom has closed.
Chapter 37
Matuk Scarhoof:
Age: 40 Gender: Male
Race: Tau’raj Class: Shaman
Level: 008 XP: 4195/4400
Health: 800 Mana: 800 Stamina: 800 Spirit: 101
Talents: None
Items: Worn Bo
Quest Update! The Fight for the Eternal Plains:
You discovered the secret to the Nagos’ war efforts in the Eternal Plains. Inform the Tribal Elders about this new discovery and find a way to sabotage the Nagos’ disbursement method to help even further! (Gained 50 XP!)
Each time Scarhoof teleported, it got easier and easier, though the nausea was a shock to his system each time he did it.
He blinked in surprise. He’d expected it to be daytime here, after being in the twilight forest dream of the Spiritmother, he could use some sun, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.
He had bigger fish to fry and he was on a time limit.
“Matuk? What are you doing back?”
It was unmistakably Nitene’s voice.
He turned to look upon her and as soon as he did he was awash with emotions.
She looked good, if a little more gaunt than he had last seen her. She wore a nightgown of white lace that made her look like a ghostly angel standing in front of him on the stoop to her small hut. A faerie from heaven.
Spirit sent.
He rushed over to her and enveloped her in his massive arms, digging her horns into his chest until the two points on his skin pained with excitement. He wanted to remember this moment, remember the time they had together.
He wasn’t sure he would be coming back.
“What are you doing here?” She pushed him away, still holding onto him.
“Nice to see you, too.”
She hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
The momentary togetherness was already gone, slipped into the realm of responsibility.
“I need your mother, is she here?”
Nitene’s eyes went wide with alarm. She shook her head slowly, cautiously. “She left two days ago across the Plains, she said she had been summoned. I couldn’t get her to tell me anything more.”
Scarhoof looked at the Eldermother’s hut and swore. He needed her for this plan to work.
“Did she take anything? Say where exactly she’s going?”
Nitene, her face suddenly worn with worry, shook her head. “I’m sorry, but she just bundled up herbs, and galloped out of here like a predator was after her.”
Scarhoof frowned. “I need to look, see what she took.”
They ran to Eldermother’s house and he pulled up the quest log from days ago, from the first failed quest.
“Stinging nettles, motherwort, passionflower pods, echinacea, wild bergamot?”
She rummaged through her mother’s things. “No, no, no, no and no. That’s literally all the stuff that is missing.”
She looked at him with wet trembling eyes. “You’re scaring me, Matuk. What is going on?”
Scarhoof frowned and took her into his arms again. “We are attacking the Nagos at midnight on the Hem Shore. I think your mother might have been clued in by a little bird as to my plan.”
He pushed her away again. “I need water buckets. Lots of buckets, then I have to leave.”
She let go and helped round up the containers. The commotion woke some of the neighbors, who Scarhoof organized.
“I need all your containers, vessels, pot, buckets. Anything that will hold water and follow me!”
Soon the whole village was awake and bustling. Just like a few days ago they organized into something resembling a bucket brigade, only this time the buckets were empty.
Then they ran. Scarhoof led the way, followed by Nitene. All but the most invalid and the youngest Tau’ri, still suckling, followed. Everyone carried as many containers as they could muster.
It was a stampede of terrifying proportions as most of the members of the town, relegated to this sanctuary city because of their inability to fight, were leading the charge to help save the troops.
Scarhoof explained his plan as they ran, made easier by the slower members. Still, he and Nitene kept out ahead of the pack. It didn’t matter if there were slower ones, he wouldn’t be able to transport them.
“I’m going to need you to help keep them organized until we’re all done.”
He glanced at the sky, the moon almost straight up in the sky. It would be midnight soon. Maybe an hour at most.
A single Kobold guard sat in front of the cave entrance as the massive herd of Tau’raj descended on Misty Cave.
Scarhoof recognized the fellow, shouting “evening” to him as he ran past. He was the same guard that had been there all those nights ago.
Shocked gasps and angry yells immediately turned to screams of terror as the little green guys scattered deeper into their cave.
Scarhoof reached the large room and ran directly up to the center well, plunging his bucket into the cool depths and pulling out two buckets worth with one hand. Nitene hesitated before dunking hers in, peering over the edge with a melancholy look before picking up the water and trying to keep it mostly in the bucket.
Something else bubbled up after she dunked her bucket. It was long and thin. Scarhoof grabbed and pulled it from the waters. “It’s my, I mean your old staff. I thought I’d lost this.”
He wiped the viscous water from it and held it out for Nitene to see.
“It’s not black anymore.”
She was right. The pitch-black wood had lightened enough that it was a shiny grey instead of pitch black.
He spun it around, grateful to have his old weapon back and replaced it on his back.
He looked at her face as she stared deep into the waters. “Something wrong?”
She looked away. “No, just … too much death
in this cave. Bad memories.”
He knew how she felt. Kardkaw had lost his life in here and he hadn’t been able to bury him.
More gasps originated from the entrance as the rest of the pack caught up with him.
“I can only Recall one direction, but I will send someone back shortly.”
He winked. “Good luck.”
She kissed him while she transferred her bucket to his.
Then he recited the words to his first binding.
Scarhoof exploded out of the decrepit hut to the chagrin of two lonely guards stationed just inside the quarry gate.
“Where is everyone?”
It took them a moment to recover and one of them blankly pointed out the gate. “They just left about ten minutes ago. We thought everyone was with them.”
Scarhoof pointed to the one who responded. “Run! Sprint! Gallop! I don’t care how but stop them and get them to turn around.”
The guard looked at him with a blank expression.
“Now!” Enchanted by his rage, frustration, and a little bit of magic that he didn’t know he had in him, Scarhoof yelled at the guard with such force it knocked the poor bull back a step.
The guard hightailed it out of there and out the front gate.
Scarhoof handed the buckets to the other guard. “Find better containers for these, we’re gonna need them.”
Scarhoof stood at the gate of the quarry as the army rushed back up the road.
Helu Hillbender led the charge up the slope. “I held them off as long as I could.”
Scarhoof waved the apology away. “I know how to keep our troops protected.”
“Protected? From what?”
Behind Hillbender, two figures pushed through, one of which spoke with a distinctly feminine voice.
“From the airships.”
It was Eldermother, her diminutive size Dwarfed by their leader and Chieftain.
Scarhoof’s trainer whirled around at the voice, his face shocked and pained.