by Harley Vex
Not with Natalie still being here.
After I make the quick call, I head back to my apartment and wait, pacing around the living room. Steve's in his room, talking to someone in a game, so I don't interrupt. Besides, I'm so confused myself that I don't have time to explain. Once my pickup time is close, I head to the balcony to watch for cars. At least I can see the parking lot from here.
The black Mercedes pulls in fifteen minutes later, right on the dot. I walk down and wave, and the drivers' side window goes down a bit to reveal a young guy with dark hair and a square jaw.
"It's Don," he says with a grin.
"Oh," I say, relieved. I haven't seen him or Matt without their suits on before.
For now.
Because if Salvos wants an inventor that bad, they're going to have to work with me. And I'm nervous about making demands. Nervous, and desperate.
If they don't cooperate, I lose nothing, I think.
I get into the back of the car. Candi's not in the vehicle this time. Don drives me back to the Salvos office/apartment building without saying much, and then Candi's waiting in the underground garage, cute as ever. Today she's wearing a navy blue suit that contrasts with her red hair and pale skin.
It is one hundred percent a trap.
She opens the back door for me. "So, you changed your mind?" Her green eyes flash.
"I'll cut to it," I say as soon as I'm out of the car. "I know you guys need someone who does mob traps and auto farms, but I need to get paid for being a beta tester. A free apartment is great, but my sister is about to have major medical bills and she's on the verge of losing her job. Also, I have bills I have to pay, and I can't hold down another job and do this at the same time." I square my shoulders as I speak, letting Candi know that I mean business. While I don't really know her, she seems like the type who will try to make it happen. Then I turn to Don. "How do you manage it?"
"I do gaming vids full time already," he says. "And I beta test this secret game on the side."
I shouldn't be surprised at that fact, but I am surprised Don gave me an answer at all with all the secretive stuff going on. If Don is a streamer, a successful one, money won't be an issue for him. But that gives me ammo for what I say next. "So is everyone here except for me already getting paid outside of this for doing gaming full time?"
Candi swallows. I'm laying the pressure on. It would make sense for Salvos to approach well-known streamers for a closed beta. That's the way it works in the gaming world. And that would explain why they're not paying people to do it.
"The people we've brought on are already established. Yes," Candi says, but instead of putting up a wall, she grins a little like she wants me to continue.
"Well, I'm not, so my circumstance is different. It's unfair to me to ask me to work for free."
"Don't you have another job? You can easily juggle both, if you're used to gaming in your free time anyway," Candi says. But she maintains that question in her eyes. She wants me to say I'm staying on.
I wave her aside, leaving Don to lock up the car. I don't speak until we're near the door to the stairwell and elevator. "I lost my job today at the call center. They canned me for being late the other night. Oh, and because I told a customer how to escape their cycle of terror. You should have expected that first part."
Candi bites her lip. "I am sorry about that. But we were confident that you would take the offer."
"Without having a paying job to help me?" That part ticks me off.
"Well, it's the protocol that corporate wants." Candi leans close and whispers in my ear as if there's a spy next to us, using an invisibility cloak. "Again, I'm sorry. I'll see what I can do for you." She looks away and blinks.
I've laid on the guilt.
And I almost feel bad about it.
"Follow me," Candi says, raising her voice again.
Please, don't let me be a charity case, I think as we go up the elevator and then through the testing room. Tonight, three players are immersed in the mystery game, all suited and mysterious, and one seems to be chopping wood in front of him judging from his motions. Another is looking downward as if into a pit.
Candi walks faster through the gray room, waving me along, and we come to a T-junction where she takes a right. Now we're in an office hallway with a faint musty smell. Doors line the walls and we enter the second to last one.
It's a lounge with leather furniture and lush carpet that looks as if it belongs in the seventies. It's empty but there's a minibar on one side of the room and glass furniture. No television, though, and no gaming systems. A disco ball hangs from the ceiling and a retro record player waits in the corner.
"This place is pretty cool," I say.
"Anthony's a fan of the seventies," Candi says. "Have a seat. This isn't usual protocol but I'll see if I can get something for you. Mike, you're in demand, and you're a different case, so I just might be able to make it work." She winks as she moves back to the door before exiting the room. I listen as she steps into the room right across the hall. The door squeaks as it swings back, but I don't hear a click.
I stand there like a moron and want to slap myself. Then I mull over Candi's words as I sit down, digging my fingers into the leather of the couch. She's left the lounge door partly open. And, most likely, the door on the other end of the hall, too.
Is that an invitation?
It's obvious she's trying to make things right. As soon as the thought hits me, I get up. I'm not sitting here while she discusses my future. I move to the lounge door, listening to the faint sound of her cell phone ringing someone in the other room.
Bingo. Candi hasn't moved far away at all.
"Anthony? Yes, looking for that Anthony Anton." A long pause follows. "Oh, he's on his jet? That's fine if I can talk to an assistant, so long as it's fine with Anton." She goes silent again. "Hi, Miriam. Is it true that the CEO still wants a mob grinder and auto farm specialist on the closed beta?"
Specialist? I hold back a snort. Corporations have to find boring names for everything.
"Yes. I have Mike Wattles here. He's interested in Project 93. But his situation isn't like that of the other streamers. He needs pay to participate in this program. You see, he's between jobs, and if he takes the offer without having a source of income, job hunting will get in the way. Also, his sister is sick and needs help with medical bills. And he is a very good player. I promise that. I say it's a small price to pay for testing the finer aspects."
I grip the door frame.
"Great. So Anton's still interested. No, I don't think you'll get in trouble," Candi says. "Thank you so much, Miriam. Let Anton know and send it over as soon as you can."
My heart leaps.
Is this really happening?
Scrambling back to my seat, I wait, and Candi opens the door a moment later, grinning.
"Guess what?" she says, dropping that professional disguise. "You're on. Or should I say, you're probably hired. Before you sign the contract, it's standard for new team members to test Project 93."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Excitement bubbles into my chest as I follow Candi to the testing room. I haven't seen any paperwork or signed anything yet, and I'm anxious about that part because I know that letting me preview this Project 93 game is a move meant to sway me. Creationist is great but no company is going to give stuff out for free. Salvos will expect something out of me in return.
I hope that that something is just my performance.
When we reach the testing room, two players are still swinging at invisible obstacles or monsters in their glass boxes, illuminated by the blue lights. Don is waiting in plainclothes with a bunch of those suits slung over his big arm. Makes sense. No one handed me a form for me to fill out with my clothing size.
I take a breath to calm myself. This game, knowing Salvos, is probably something like Creationist.
“What should I expect?” I ask.
“I cannot say,” Candi says, but she grins as if I'm in for some kin
d of joke. "You'll enjoy it."
“Going in blind, huh?” I nod to Don.
“Take your pick. I'm not going to stand here and assess you.” Then he holds up his arm.
He's got a few of the suits dangling off his arm, minus helmets and gloves. Considering that they've all got those plastic-looking black pads on them, I'm guessing they're heavy. Don's patient as I sift through them. Turns out there's five suits. I grab the one with the tallest, skinniest pants, well aware that Candi's watching.
"Where do I change?"
“Over there,” Don says, nodding to the side of the testing room. “Helmets and gloves are in there. All get sanitized every night. Once you're in your battle gear, brace yourself for the Salvos Simulator."
"Great," I say, pulse hammering. I'm nervous. In front of Candi. Awesome. "And don't worry. If I stay on, I'll push this game to the limits and test every mechanic I can."
Candi grins.
I eye an empty glass box and the rollerballs that make up the floor. My palms sweat. I'm sure there's a reason for making me go in blind. In Creationist, there's little I haven't exploited yet. I've tried every mob farm out there and invented some of my own. I've built every auto farm and turned every Monster Fort into a grinder to suit my own needs. I've always known what to do.
For this game, I'm a complete noob.
I go into the changing room, which turns out to be behind a door that's between two Salvos Simulators. It's a small room bathed in that same blue light, with shelves of helmets and the black gloves, plus pairs of black boots lined up on the floor. And lockers. I read the name stickers on the fronts. Candi. Don. Matt. Val. Liz. Kevin. Two lockers are blank, and I take the second the last one, stashing my clothes inside.
The suit fits me fine and the plastic pads press against everything that's not a joint or crease. This suit is like nothing I've ever worn. The pads feel like static on contact with my skin, as if they're electrifying me, but they're not uncomfortable. Just weird. And unlike my Virtual World Helmet back at home. The boots bathe my feet in that same sensation, and the gloves make every nerve in my hands dance.
"To have a good time, press the space bar," I joke to myself.
What am I getting into?
Now for the helmet.
I'm a bit nervous about putting it on, but I grab one off the shelf and slip it over my head. The same electric sensation surrounds my skull as it slips into place, and a brief light flashes behind my eyelids when I blink. But it's gone a moment later.
I feel as if I'm wired into this thing. What kind of technology does Salvos have here?
At least I can see through the smooth, tinted glass of the visor and somehow I can breathe with a faint whooshing sound. And then I unlock the door with my gloves, which are surprisingly versatile, almost like a second skin.
Candi and Don are waiting in the testing room. As I step out, the tingling dies down. Maybe the blue light has something to do with how these suits work.
“So,” I said, my own voice sounding too loud in my ears. “Will this VR helmet ever have recording capabilities?” I haven't even tested Project 93 yet and I'm wondering about what opportunities this can offer.
Candi's waiting by one of the Salvos Simulator boxes with the door open. "Your helmet does have those capabilities, but for the purposes of monitoring your progress. Player-controlled recording functions will come later, along with other vital controls. For now, you need to trust us. You understand what beta testing entails, right?"
“I do. Test the game to the hilt and report back on any bugs and balance issues.”
"Right."
“You're serious that I'm going in completely blind.”
“I doubt someone like you will have much trouble once you've got the hang of how Project 93 works,” Candi says, opening the glass door of an empty Simulator for me. "You have two real life hours."
Whoa. Don just awkwardly steps back while I get into the Simulator and catch my footing on the floor of marble-sized roller balls. They depress a little as I walk on them, making my step feel natural. Cool. The floor here is much bigger than the platform I've got at home. Enough to break into a full run, maybe, without ever hitting the walls. Despite being in a box, I don't feel as if I'm enclosed. The air is still and cool and the blue light shines down on me, casting a calming glow.
But being under that strange blue light again makes my suit tingle.
"What's going to happen now?" I ask.
"Watch out for the transition period," Candi says from behind me. "Logging in is automatic."
"The what?"
A loud buzzing fills my head, seizing me in place, and the plastic pieces of my suit, including the chest piece, increase their tempo. I jolt as the glass on my helmet turns completely black. A falling sensation as if I'm on a roller coaster socks me. I can't feel the floor. I'm floating in a black, endless space.
No.
I'm free falling.
A few choice words escape me. If Candi's standing nearby, I can't hear her. And if this is part of the beta test—
I land on my back with a painless thud as a blur of color fills my vision.
My breath shoots out of me as the tingling vanishes. I blink, no longer encased in, well, anything. A morning sky, complete with pale orange light that's rapidly shifting to blue, stretches overhead. A bit of wind blows against my face. Leaves rustle. I inhale and smell a bit of grass. A strange pressure on my back lets me know that I'm lying on top of something crumpled.
"Candi?" I ask, craning my neck back so I'm looking at what I think is the back of the Salvos Simulator. "Whoa."
I'm not in a glass box with roller balls at all, but lying on a flat landscape that looks like a cross between a plain of short grass and a forest. The tops of a few trees lower into my upside-down vision. I turn my head back to normal, letting my vision pan over the sky. A few clouds drift overhead, floating towards a rising sun that looks like a cartoon pentagon and not an actual ball of burning gas. The transparent, pixelated clouds have the same straight lines, forming triangular points where curves should be.
"I'm in the game." No title screen. No loading screen hints. The VR suit and the Simulator have just thrown me into a whole new reality.
Project 93.
Then I do let out a few choice words, but in awe instead of sickness. My nausea's gone. Despite the throwback graphics that tell me I'm obviously not in Kansas anymore, everything else feels like the real deal. The pressure of the ground is making my butt go numb. With each breath I can smell the outdoors. Leaves rustle in the wind. And now I know why Salvos Corporation wants to keep this creation—this place—top secret.
This isn't virtual reality.
It's a whole new reality, period.
I haven't even gotten up and I'm already impressed.
I reach up to the sky, wiggling my fingers. I'm shocked to see that my hand isn't a long block with a series of block fingers like it is in Creationist, but an actual hand. Sure, my fingers are long triangles with points, and there are no real curves in my joints, but I've got a hand and I can feel my fingers wiggling and the air moving against my skin.
And I even still have that mole on my ring finger that I do in real life, in the form of a pixel.
I'm also wearing a cartoonish, cloth, brown suit with leather pads on my forearms, right where the plastic ones are on my actual Salvos VR suit. Again, no curves. I'm in a world of straight lines.
Then I do my first test and touch my face, expecting to feel the glass mask of my helmet before my hand reaches me.
Nope. My fingers land on my nose, chilly from the wind.
Impressive. Just impressive. This feels like Creationist, but it doesn't.
I push myself into a sitting position, listening to the grass under me rustle. My first impression turns out to be true. I'm in area made of short, pale green grass and scattered trees. While some of the trees are taller than others, they have a strange uniform look. Their trunks form no curves either—they're basically pentag
ons themselves—and each trunk has a repeating bark texture, maybe 64-bit. The leaves? Same story, except they're transparent.
Long story short: everything here is made of pentagons.
And it's got a strange charm.
Salvos could have done realistic graphics, easily, but I like this. If the mechanics are as awesome as I hope, this game is going to take the world by storm.
Another tingle sweeps over me. I'm a kid playing Creationist for the first time all over again.
Get up, Mike. I can't just sit here when there's a world to explore.
CHAPTER NINE
I push myself off the ground, amazed at how my act compares to the real thing. I can feel my muscles stretching, the short, springy grass under my palm, and my black boots scraping against the ground.
"Get your bearings, Mike. Figure out how to play," I said to myself. I don't know if this is a horror game, a game full of aliens, or something else entirely. The first thing I need to do is check out the area.
Something tan walks between the trees ahead and I jump at the sight of the figure about a hundred feet away. Then I lean closer, squint, and see that it's a goat. A goat with a body and horns made of straight lines and points. It looks like something I'd see in Creationist but not quite. "Okay. So unless goats can eat you here, this doesn't seem to be a horror game." Creationist had sprawling, dark forests, swamps, and wastelands. I let out a breath, remembering that I have no audience except for Salvos Corporation. All talking will be to myself.
The goat jumps up and down stupidly, legs still straight, and makes whatever sound a goat makes. Then it stops, and without an animation for the transition, it tilts its head down to the grass, probably chewing.
"A peaceful mob, then. Probably a food source or a garbage disposal." Or neutral.
I turn away and walk across the short grass, marveling at how real it feels. The pentagon sun has risen a bit more. Day seems to be going past quickly and I'm guessing it might be done in an hour. If this game is anything like Creationist, night is going to bring trouble, and being armed with just my fists isn't the way I want to face it. Standing here with my jaw down could lead to me standing under the stars with my pants down.