Revolution

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Fans of Duel Reality and other combat based simulation games played out in the V world will be intrigued to hear about the latest and greatest aspect to hit the scene. Here with me today is the inventor of Terminal, a new module for V gamers that will change your gaming experience forever, quite literally. Please welcome CEO of Terminal, Mic Zenner, entrepreneur and avid gamer, a man who has worked on many projects for the V industry. Hi, Mic, please, tell us about your exciting new device known as Terminal. It sounds pretty exciting and terrifying, too."

  Luna was hooked. Her whole life revolved around Duel Reality, even her job, and she was always eager to get in on something new while it was still fresh. The news camera panned over to Zenner. He looked like a rather unassuming man of about forty-years-old. He had short featureless dark hair and light stubble. He didn't wear a suit like a lot of businessmen, but a casual long sleeved shirt.

  "Hi, and hi to all the fans out there. Yeah...Terminal. This is a massive step forward for interactive gaming. It has long been a dream of mine to make Duel Reality truly real. You know, not just look and feel real, but actually have consequences. How exciting would a duel be if the consequences were very real?"

  "But wouldn't that be like actually fighting? Why would users need the game? Duel Reality already limits users to their own physical attributes, so why then play the game if the consequences are all too authentic?" asked the anchor.

  "Why? Because it is exciting. Blood sports have long been banned, and I understand that. They are savage and bloodthirsty, and not something we ever want to see a return to. But with Terminal, there is no mess. There is nothing that can traumatise viewers. What they'll see is exactly what they are already used to seeing in Duel. Realistic action, but with Terminal, the stakes will be so much higher."

  "Aren't you a little concerned that you would be encouraging people into deadly situations?"

  "No. I don't want to see people die, but in sport it can happen. Some of the greatest racecar drivers have died on the track, but they didn't shy away from those risks, because the passion, adrenaline, excitement, and the entertainment of it all are what spur us on. It is what keeps the crowds coming back for more. Look, nobody is ever going to be forced into Terminal. It's not like we are throwing slaves in to be butchered like the Romans did. In fact, like the arenas of old, deaths should still be relatively unusual, even less so than back then, because no physical wounds actually occur. Only injuries that would be severe enough to cause death will actually do so. Do you know how resilient the human body is to damage? If you could have immediate first class medical attention the second after an impact from any weapon hit you, you'd have more than a ninety-nine percent chance of survival. That is what Terminal is like."

  "So what you are saying is that people will die from this, but not many, and that is okay?"

  "I am saying it is a risk that some will be willing to take. There are plenty of adrenaline junkies out there. They risk their lives for their sport and for our entertainment. That is exactly what Terminal is about."

  "And what about our children? Aren't you concerned they could be drawn into Terminal without truly understanding the consequences?"

  "No, of course not. That is a legitimate concern that we have addressed from the beginning. Terminal will be limited to those over eighteen years of age, and without any known or reoccurring mental health concerns. Individuals will be monitored throughout their game play to ensure that nobody slips through those gaps."

  "Well, okay. It seems like you sure have thought of everything. Terminal sounds fascinating, but also very dangerous. I am not sure it is my cup of tea."

  "That's okay. It isn't for everyone, but I know a lot of people are going to get a lot of enjoyment out of Terminal, even if they never try it for themselves."

  "Okay, so when is the roll out of this new...I don't even know what to call it."

  "Terminal has been in testing for over a year now. We wouldn't have brought it to the public's attention without a working system. A roll out begins in two weeks for developer models, and full release six weeks after that. We are currently looking for volunteers to take part in the first Terminal based duels over the next week on the run up to release. You know we have our own expert teams, but what we're really looking for are end-users to get involved. So if you think you have skills at Duel, and you want to give Terminal a try, get in touch."

  "Thanks, Mic, I am sure many fans will be eagerly awaiting your response. Now, moving to the wild fires that are still raging across..."

  Luna blanked out the rest of the words, lost in her own mind as she thought about Terminal. It sounded amazing, but seconds later a message appeared on the screen above the news story, flashing. Then a number appeared beside it. Two messages, then three, four, and it began to spiral into dozens.

  "Messages," she said.

  The news story faded away, and a display listed all her new messages. The first simple said, 'Terminal. Do it!' The next read, 'You will own Terminal, please enter.' She flicked through the messages, gaining pace as she read each one. They all said pretty much the same thing. It was exciting to know she had such a following behind her.

  "Ziva, find the website of the company Terminal," she declared.

  It was displayed before her. It looked more like a restraint bed for a mental patient, or some kind of torture device. Sort of like a dentist's chair but with restraints, and the person lying in it was also wearing a V set, while various tubes had been inserted into their body. It was both terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

  "Ziva, send a video message to Terminal."

  "Recording," said Ziva.

  "Hi guys at Terminal. My name is Luna Lee, a platinum Duel user. Check out my profile and my fights. I'm not shy to face anyone who is willing, and I love the sound of your latest tech. Please consider me for the first rounds of Terminal. End Recording."

  "Would you like to send this message?"

  "Attach highlight clips from Luna vs. Templars fight and then send."

  "Message sent."

  She lay back on her sofa, thinking about what might come of it. It was fascinating and exhilarating. She hadn't even taken part yet, and still it seemed like something she had been waiting for all this time, a way to take things one step further. She smiled, imagining the glory and fame she might be able to acquire.

  * * *

  Arlington, Virginia, United American Nations

  "You realise we are probably never going to get to the bottom of this, don't you?" Nui asked.

  "You think we are the fall guys, I take it?"

  "Why not? It would be easy to put all this on us. Save Sparks from the axe like Rice.

  Hud smiled.

  "What?"

  "Do you know why you were put on this job?"

  She looked confused.

  "Because of your crazy conspiracy theories. You think like nobody else in the Agency, and that scares some people, but it also gets results. I know about Operation Tilt, the one fuckup in your unblemished career. Everybody knows about that, and it’s what you're probably going to be remembered for, for the rest of your career. But Sparks also knows what you are capable of. You are like some kind of extra perceptive terrier, relentlessly chasing after that scent nobody else can pick up, or even thought to."

  "A terrier? Really?"

  He smiled in response, but she was actually taken aback by the compliment.

  "I didn't know you had a soft side."

  "Hey, I say it how it is and how I see it. Sometimes that comes across nice, and other times like I am trying to smash people down. I don't have a filter, and I don't think you do either. We are very different people, but we're both terriers. I'll go after a lead every bit as hard as you, just not the way you do."

  "And so we make the perfect partners?"

  "Who knows, maybe, or maybe we’ll rip each other's throat out."

  "Okay, so pleasantries aside. Maybe we can work together, but where the hell are we going?"

  "W
e're already there." He pulled into a side street barely wide enough to fit the car. It was a run down and scruffy looking area. A few rough sleepers lined both sides of the path amongst overflowing trashcans.

  "Nice place," she said.

  "You know why the Agency sucks at finding whoever or whatever Incognito is?" he said as he drew the car to a halt.

  "Why?"

  "Because they don't look out from their own asses. They look to their tech guys to try and solve this, and you know what? Anyone with any serious skills wouldn't be working cyber security at the CIA."

  "Why not?"

  "Because the pay sucks and you'd have no street cred whatsoever."

  "So that's what we are doing here? Going outside the Agency, involving unauthorised civilians?"

  "Damn right we are. You got a problem with that?"

  "No, whatever gets the job done."

  "That's what I thought. You carry a gun?"

  "Of course."

  "All right, take it easy, and let me handle this."

  They got out of the car. There was a gleaming black truck parked up ahead of them, and that made them both suspicious. It didn't fit in this neighbourhood, just like them. A burst of gunfire rang out, and both flinched as they ducked down and snatched their pistols from their belts.

  "Nice place you've brought is to," said Nui.

  Another burst rang out.

  "Automatic gunfire, this is serious," she added.

  Hud nodded as he went to the rear of the car and popped the trunk. She joined him and found it was loaded with weapons, tools, and all sorts of gear. He drew an auto shotgun from the trunk lid and passed her a small submachine gun and two magazines.

  "What the hell do you ever need hardware like this for?"

  Another burst rang out as semi-automatic fire responded to it.

  "You have your answer," he said and drew out a huge drum magazine, slamming it into the shotgun.

  "Overkill, don't you think?"

  "It's only overkill when it's in the enemy’s hands. Come on."

  He rushed on down the alleyway and found a door that had been blown off its hinges. He didn't hesitate to rush inside with the huge auto shotgun held up at the ready, rushing up a flight of stairs, as two gunmen opened fire at the far end of the room.

  "Freeze, put your weapons down!" Hud yelled.

  They looked like punk gang scum to the two agents, and both knew there was little chance of them complying. Frankly, Nui was surprised her new partner even gave them a chance, but they quickly turned to opened fire, but Hud's monster of a shotgun opened fire. Two shells struck the first, killing him instantly. Nui fired two shots as well; one at the submachine gun the other gunman was carrying, and a second into his upper right arm. The broken weapon flew from his grasp as he clenched his wounded arm and held it up as if to surrender.

  Another gunshot rang out, and she heard a bullet rush past her head. Hud was on it immediately. He opened fire against an overturned table where the shots had come from. A hole was blown through, but he fired two more. The third shot caused a man to cry out in pain as he collapsed back. Hud rushed forward towards their attacker. He found a small machine pistol on the ground and kicked it away.

  "Okay, okay, I surrender," he said, as Hud crushed his hand with his boot to ensure he wasn't going anywhere. They heard the hammering of boots from two others rushing down the stairs they had come in at, and seconds later the squeal of rubber as the truck tore away from the scene.

  "This who you were hoping to find?" Nui asked, cuffing the man she had shot.

  "Not really, these and Niner thugs, nothing more."

  "Hey, who you calling..." protested the man facing the barrel of Hud's shotgun.

  He pushed down further on the man's hand to silence him, and he let out a cry in pain.

  "We aren't here for them. Zippo, it's all right. Come on out!" he called.

  Someone rose up from the table at the far end of the room where they had been sheltering, and put a pistol down on the counter. They were wearing police regulation body armour, but over a rough looking hoodie, with the hood up and obscuring their face. The slight figure drew back the hoodie to reveal an attractive but peculiar looking woman in her twenties, with blue and blond hair and nose piercings.

  "Hud, great timing as always," she said with a smile.

  "You know this girl?"

  "Sure, she's what we came here for. Tranq that idiot and let locals pick him up."

  He drew out a small metal pen like object and placed it beside the man's throat that he had been standing over.

  "No...wa..." he protested.

  But it was too late. He was out of it. Nui didn't understand the reasons why, but she followed suit, as she could see Hud had a much better idea of what was going on here.

  "Grab whatever you can carry. We're getting you out of here," said Hud.

  "My gear..."

  "Bullshit, you can work anywhere in the world. These are merely tools of the trade. I don't know what beef these assholes have with you, but they'll be back, and I need you. It's a matter of national security."

  "Why the hell should I care?"

  "Because we just saved your life, and if you want to go on living, you're going to help us."

  "I can handle myself okay."

  "Looks like it," joked Nui.

  Hud sighed as he could see he wasn't getting anywhere.

  "All right, I need your help at a crazy and international conspiracy to undermine UAN and peace across the world."

  "For real?" she asked in amazement, looking to Nui for confirmation.

  "It's true. I don't know who you are, but right now it's just the two of us. If Hud says we need you, then we need you."

  "Well, okay, then. And if I help you, what do I get?"

  "You mean other than your life?" Nui asked.

  "A Presidential pardon for all your crimes. I'll have every criminal record wiped, even juvi, the lot."

  "What else?"

  "What else do you what?" he asked wearily.

  "This sounds big. If I help you, I want a new place to live. Somewhere nice, and fully paid, you hear?"

  "No promises, but I will do what I can."

  She drew out a small detonator and clicked the trigger. All the equipment on the worktops around her exploded with small charges, and smoke arose from them.

  "Clean slate, I'm all yours."

  * * *

  Portland, Oregon, United American Nations

  "Incoming urgent call. Incoming urgent call."

  The voice kept ringing in Luna's head as if it were a dream, but started to come around, realising it was Ziva. She went to bed exhausted every night. It meant that she slept well and deeply, but it was also hard to awaken once more. She looked at the time. It was 5.54am. Her alarm wasn't due to go off for another thirty-six minutes. To her, that was everything, and she wanted that sleep. But the voice kept repeating, and she knew she had to answer it. Few messages ever came through as urgent. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last one that she had received.

  She pulled on a dressing gown and strode into her living room.

  "Accept the call," she said wearily, slumping onto the sofa. The screen flashed to life, and to her amazement she found herself facing Mic Zenner himself. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she tried to work out if she had actually awoken, or was still in a dream world.

  "Luna Lee, is this a bad time?"

  She coughed to clear her throat and shook her head.

  "No, no. Sorry, I just woke up. Keep talking...please..." she insisted.

  He smiled as he realised how desperate she was for him to stay on the line.

  "You left a message with my firm?"

  "Yes, yes I did."

  "Well, I have to say, your highlights video made quite an impression with my development team, and I have been going back over some of your duels. There is no doubt, you have some great skill."

  "Thank you, that means a lot."

  "No, no, credit is
where it is due. You are a great fighter. You must have watched my launch of Terminal. Your message was received within moments of it, so I know that you are keen. I'd love to have a fighter of your skill to exhibit Terminal for the first time, but you have to know that this is different from anything you have done before. I mean the fight will be the same. All the skills you have can be utilised, but the price of defeat can be total. You do understand the nature of Terminal."

  "I do."

  "I checked out more of your videos, and I have to say, you have some serious skill."

  "Thanks," she said in amazement.

  "So what do you say? There would be some contracts and other things to sign, but I am straight up making you an offer now. Will you fight in the first ever live duel using the Terminal plugin?"

  "Yes," she replied without any hesitation.

  "And you understand what that means? What risk is involved?"

  "I do."

  "Then pending your signature on the paperwork, you are in."

  She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

  "So what now?"

  "So long as you are confident that you are going to go through with this, tell your fans. Build some hype. This is going to be one of the biggest fights in V history, so let the world know about it."

  "Would they even believe me?"

  "You put out the messages, and we will have your back. To make Terminal a reality, we need good fighters who are willing to put everything on the line. I think, no I know, that you are the perfect candidate. You are going to wow the crowds. You know you will, because you already do, but remember. There is more to just winning in Terminal, there is surviving."

  "I get it, and I cannot wait to be a part of this. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity."

  "No, thank you for putting your faith in us, and supporting this venture. We live in a new age of gaming. An age where imagination and reality will cross over more than anyone could ever have imagined."

  "What do I do now?"

  "As I said, advertise it to your following, market it, and advertise it. This is going to be a big deal, and we will do the same."

  "Who will my opponent be?"

  "It has not been decided yet. Your application stood out, and I felt obliged to reach out to you and get you involved in what we are doing here. We are still working to find you an opponent, but rest assured it will be a worthy one. One that can stand toe to toe with you and make for good entertainment."