by Rachel Ford
“If you had anything on Marshfield Studio – and, of course, there’s nothing of the kind out there – it would…well, not to put too fine a point on it. But it would die with you.”
“You’re wrong there, Roberts. I promise you: you kill me, and you’re going to have to kill every one of your employees, and a hundred different reporters too. Because they’re all going to know, the instant I die.”
Roberts laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness in the sound. “That’s impossible. You’re bluffing, Jack. You’re stuck in a videogame. There’s no way you could do that.”
“You sure about that, Roberts? Because you try a stunt like that again, and you better be.”
“You’re bluffing,” the other man said again.
Jack narrowed his eyes and tried to project unshakeable confidence. “Try me, fart face.” He blinked at the sheer juvenile sound of that – so far from the impact he was going for. So did Migli. Even Roberts seemed speechless. He cleared his throat and moved on. “I’m a programmer, dumb arse. I know my way around networks and servers, and your crappy firewalls. How do you think I found out your little secret?”
“This is sounding a lot like corporate espionage. Like blackmail.”
“Call it whatever you want. But you kill me, and the whole world knows your dirty little secret. Marshfield Studio will be done. You’ll lose your medical license. You’ll probably spend the rest of your life in jail.”
He thought about every spy movie he’d ever seen. He remembered all the cheesy 80’s movies and westerns he’d watched growing up. He lowered his voice until it sounded gravelly, “You come for me, Roberts, you better come hard. Because I promise you, you won’t know what hit you.”
Roberts had laughed nervously at that, declaring Jack was “clearly overextended mentally and suffering from the fatigue and psychological impact” of his recent traumas. He’d patronized him for a minute, but then added, “I promise you, Jack: you are completely safe. No one – you have my word on that – is going to hurt you. So I hope – well, I hope you won’t waste time worrying about this. You need to be focusing on finishing the game, so we can all see you again – free and healthy and happy. I hope you’ll work on that and won’t do anything stupid.”
Which seemed to Jack about as close to an admission of defeat as Roberts would get. So he’d made a vague remark about keeping his mouth shut as long as the doctor kept up his end of the bargain.
Then Roberts had gone, telling Richard, “Keep a good eye on him: he’s had a very rough day. Jump in, if you need to, with some healing. Okay?”
Jack didn’t know if this benevolent streak would last beyond the door. Maybe it would be gone as soon as he had a chance to think. Maybe it would end as soon as he talked to Avery, or they got one of the dev team or security team to check for intrusions and figured out it had all been a bluff.
But he’d bought himself a little time, anyway. And he didn’t for a second doubt that it was longer than he would have had if he’d said nothing. Roberts had meant to kill him. Jack had opened his mouth about William, and Roberts had decided to kill him then and there.
He knew that, as sure as he knew anything. And now, his life hung by a thread. The instant Roberts realized he was bluffing, Jack was a dead man. He knew that too. Shit, shit, shit.
He heard Roberts’s footsteps disappear in the background, and the door to Richard’s office close. He loosed a long breath.
Migli, meanwhile, fidgeted in place. “So, uh…what just happened, bro?”
“Trust me, Richard, you don’t want to get involved.”
Migli nodded for about fifteen straight seconds. Then, he shook his head. “I mean, I don’t. You’re right about that. But – am I wrong in thinking he wanted to kill you? Like, that’s what just happened, right? I didn’t imagine that?”
“No. You didn’t imagine it.”
The dwarf went back to nodding, then shaking his head. He half-mumbled to himself the whole time. “So…you going to tell me why? And, why he didn’t kill you?”
“I told you, you don’t want to be involved.”
“I mean, I kind of am already. And if he’ll kill you…well I gotta suppose my life’s in danger too. Only, I don’t know the thing that saved your life. So, by not telling me…well, you’re kind of putting me in danger here, Jack.”
Jack’s mind was too confused, his thoughts too scattered, to reason his way through that. Maybe it was almost dying twice in a row…but it seemed like the kid had a point. So he nodded. “Alright. But, remember: you asked.
“I’m not the first one they trapped in here. There was another guy: William Xi.”
“The guy you were talking about earlier.”
Jack nodded. “That’s right. They trapped him in the game, years ago.”
“Jesus,” Richard said, his voice low. “Then they put you in here?”
“That’s right.”
“No wonder he backed down so quick, dude. That’s reckless. That’s worse than reckless. That’s – that’s basically murder. Good thing you figured it out. Who knows what he would have done otherwise.”
Jack nodded wanly. He didn’t want to implicate Jordan. He didn’t want to put her in danger. “Right. Good thing.”
“I don’t suppose…listen, man – if I disappear, you’ll send those emails, right? I mean, just in case they decide to…” Here, Richard – Migli – made a cutting motion across the dwarf’s throat.
Chapter Twelve
Jack assured the other man that Roberts wouldn’t kill him, with a fair degree of certainty. There was a difference between killing someone in a videogame – or, through a videogame – and killing them in real life. Forcing him to have a heart attack required an entirely different approach to, say, knifing Richard in a dark alley. No, he was pretty sure Richard would be okay.
Still, when the intern pressed, he promised to use everything he’d accumulated for himself in the other man’s defense if he disappeared or died under suspicious circumstances. He felt bad about that. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He would use exactly what he had – nothing at all. Still, for all intents and purposes, he’d lied to Richard.
But what else could he do? The young man wouldn’t give it up. He couldn’t admit it was all a bluff. Someone could go through the conversation logs and find that. He felt certain that’d be the first order of business once Roberts and Avery convened anyway. So admitting the truth was out. But he didn’t want Richard to think he would leave him to be a sitting duck, either.
So he agreed, and the intern relaxed – kind of. He spent most of the rest of his shift talking to Jack, getting reassurances from him. It was only when he realized he had about an hour left that he took his leave. “I’m going to be in so much trouble if I don’t finish that log review.”
Jack hadn’t held him up any. He had plenty of his own problems. He didn’t need to be anyone’s emotional support right now. He needed to think through his own strategy and process his own feelings about the situation.
And he had plenty of those. Mostly, they were terror and anger. Dr. Roberts had tried to kill him. That was an escalation beyond what they’d done to William. At least, as far as he knew.
William had been an accident. No one had deliberately sabotaged his escape. But now? Roberts would have killed him, just to protect the studio’s reputation.
Would have. Will, if he figures out I’m full of shit.
As problems went, well, Jack had the mother of all problems. So once Richard left, and Migli resumed his usual avatar, he set to work thinking.
The game picked up where they’d left off. He followed the road absently. He didn’t even think to loot the raptors – not until he’d put a good half an hour between his party and their corpses.
Andrew went on talking, and Migli started to sing. Karag and Ceinwen discussed their situation in low tones. The giant felt sure they’d run into William the Wanderer soon. Ceinwen said they’d be ready for him if they did.
Jack only ha
lf listened. That was probably a hint, or a warning. But he had a lot more than in-game assassinations to worry about. He had the real deal on his mind.
Not only that, he had Jordan to worry about.
What if he’d been wrong? What if Roberts didn’t have qualms about the knife-in-the-back kind of killing after all? What if opening his big mouth had put a target on her back as well as his own?
The hours passed. The sun rose and set. His companions droned on, and he managed to mostly drown them out. Jack’s thoughts were in flux, and he really didn’t know what, if anything, he could do.
He wasn’t dead yet. That had to be a good sign – or at least, not a bad one. It meant that whatever Avery and Roberts had figured out, it hadn’t been decisive enough to lead to murder. Not yet.
Then again, what kind of victory was not dead, yet? Not much of a victory, if death was the next step anyway.
He went on pondering this, wondering when and if Marshfield Studio would strike, until Fox’s Crossing appeared on the horizon. Then, he drew up short and frowned. He hadn’t been keeping track of time, but in order to get back to town, he knew he had to have been on the road for a long time – a lot longer than an hour. And Richard had only had an hour left to his shift when they’d last talked. However many hours ago that was.
Which didn’t make sense. Jordan always checked in on him, and usually shortly after her shift started. She wouldn’t have waited all this time.
“Speak to supervisor,” he said.
Nothing happened. The game went on as normal. His companions glanced at him. “What say you, Sir Jack?” Migli asked.
Jack could feel a cold sweat forming on his forehead. But he tried to keep his tone steady, and unpanicked. “Speak to supervisor.”
“Supervisor?” the dwarf repeated frowning. “Is that a person?”
Jack felt a wave of fear wash over him. He paused the game himself. He didn’t need Migli or the others thinking he’d lost his mind. They were already watching him like they were afraid he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Then, he said, “Speak to supervisor.”
Nothing happened. He tried again, and again, half a dozen times.
Then, all at once, a voice sounded behind him. “They’re not going to answer, Jack. They disabled the feature.”
Jack spun around and found himself face to face with a familiar avatar: William Xi. William stood tall, with a lithe, muscular frame, dark hair and dark eyes. He dressed in a utilitarian black tactical suit that looked completely out of place in the Dagger of Doom series. Like the guns he had strapped to his back, and the tinge of purple in his hair. This was William’s preferred avatar and build, he knew, regardless of which game world he decided to pop into.
None of which explained his sudden appearance, of course – or the worrying bit about disabling features. “What? What do you mean? How do you know?”
“I know, because I know everything that’s going on here. Unlike you, I actually do have access to all their servers. I do know my way around the firewalls. And that little stunt you pulled earlier?” The other man shook his head. “Gutsy, but stupid. You have Avery panicked. He’s pulled every developer and security tech he’s got, and put them all on this. He’s saying they detected an intrusion.
“He’s painting this as concern for you: someone’s hacking into the servers, and that’s putting you in mortal jeopardy. They’re all running around with their hair on fire, trying to find an intrusion that isn’t actually happening.
“Jordan included. She thinks she’s saving your life.”
Jack blinked. “How…I mean…?”
“Are you asking if they’re going to figure out you’re full of shit? Maybe. But – well, I left a few breadcrumbs for them to find. Just enough for them to think maybe you did it. Maybe you’re better than they are.”
Jack nodded slowly. The other man was watching him with an inscrutable expression. “Thank you. But – why help me?” It was the second time William had jumped into the game to aid him.
William shrugged. “Avery’s a son-of-a-bitch. I mean, I don’t want to see you die or whatever. But to be honest, I think you’re my best hope of making him pay. So I can’t let you die. Obviously.”
That made a little bit of sense. “You’ve been in here for years.”
William nodded. “That’s right. Avery likes to pretend I just…” He spread his hands. “Ceased to be. Well, he’s going to find I didn’t.”
“Thank you,” Jack said again.
“Don’t thank me yet. My consciousness is untethered from my body. I can get around their servers – all of them. You’re still tied to your body. You’re stuck here, in this game. If they decide to do you in, they can always pull the plug on the game, and you’re a goner.”
“But you planted evidence.”
“That’s right. And I’m hoping it works. I need you to get out of here. But – well, we’ll see. Right now, Avery’s painting this as suspected corporate espionage.
“He’s implying – with plausible deniability, of course. He’s too smart to open himself up to a defamation suit. But he’s hinting that it’s the work of Tomorrowprise Tech, Inc. Like Alex Turing is behind it.”
Jack nodded slowly. Tomorrowprise Tech was Marshfield Studio’s chief rival in the virtual reality market, and Alex Turing was their CEO. They’d developed their own, proprietary system at about the same time as Marshfield Studio, and Turing and Callaghan’s unfriendly rivalry had been the source of a lot of drama in the tech world. Nerds, gamers and geeks of all stripes had picked sides. Not since the Xbox versus PlayStation nerd wars had there been quite so much commotion about videogame systems, and not since the Steve Jobs and Bill Gates rivalry had there been such a clash of industry titans. It would be the perfect cover.
Callaghan would have his people’s absolute loyalty as they tried to stop their rival from stealing their work. And after the much-publicized lawsuits between the two companies, and the open hostility, who would doubt that Turing would sink to something this nefarious? No one. It would be a matter of team pride. Us versus them.
William watched him carefully, and seemed to be following his thoughts, because he said, “He’s smart. I’ll give him that. It’s a brilliant cover story. As far as I can tell, no one doubts it.”
“Not even Jordan?”
“Especially not Jordan. Her chat logs and calls are practically frantic with worry for you. She’s called Avery half a dozen times, trying to understand the risk to you, and if there’s anything they can do to isolate the server you’re on, and so on.
“He’s playing along – he has to. Protecting you is part of his cover story. But he’s not happy about it.”
“Sugar.”
William shook his head. “That profanity filter is annoying. You should disable it.”
Jack waved this away. He was smart, and a good programmer. But he was no William. The other man could figure out how to hack the studio’s limits on him. He didn’t know where to start.
Not that that mattered at the moment. “Why’d they shut off the supervisor interface?”
“I think we both know why, Jack: because they want to limit how much damage you can do, until they make up their minds whether they kill you or not.
“But, if you’re asking what they told Jordan, they said it was for your protection. They didn’t want to leave any vulnerabilities the hacker could exploit, to access you.
“That’s another thing she’s been contacting Avery about: she’s worried about you being isolated.”
“So she doesn’t have any idea what’s really going on?”
“Not a clue.”
“Fuck,” Jack said, which came out as, “Fudge.”
“Something like that. Truth is, man, you’re in a world of trouble. I can’t tell you what happens. If they buy the clues I left behind, maybe they don’t kill you. If they don’t, then – well, Roberts tried to kill you once already. You know it, and he knows you know it.
“If he figures out
you’re bs’ing him, he won’t mess it up next time.”
Jack nodded slowly, passing a hand through his hair. “Fudge, fluff, frack. What do I do, William?”
The other man shook his head. “Wait it out. And – get out of the game as soon as you can.”
Chapter Thirteen
William promised to let Jack know if he found anything worrying. “I’m monitoring all their internal communications, and I’m tapped into their telecom systems.” He’d flashed a wide grin. “That’s the beauty of everything being digital: it’s all routed internally, and I get to keep tabs on it all.”
Then, though, he’d left Jack to get on with the game. He’d repeated his advice: get out as soon as you can. “I know Avery. He’ll stab you in the back as soon as look at you. But not literally. At least, not when I knew him. So you should be okay, if you can get out.”
Jack had kept the game paused to collect himself. He breathed in and out. Adrenaline coursed through him. Avery was figuring out how to kill him. I’m stuck in a videogame, and they’re trying to figure out how to kill me.
That took a few, long minutes to get used to. But then his pulse slowed, and the adrenaline receded. And he resumed the game.
His companions were still staring at him, with the same curious expressions. He cleared his throat, and said that he’d been thinking out loud – that they should try to find whoever is in charge of the city in Ashford’s absence.
That had set the others at ease. They nodded and murmured their appreciation for the plan. And they all set out to cover the last tract of road between them and Fox’s Crossing.
The sun had reached its midday zenith by now. The day wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold, either. It seemed like a perfect spring or autumn day, where everything already – or still – had a luster of life and energy. Flowers bloomed, breezes wafted past, and birds sang. The sun shone, but not so brightly it made travel uncomfortable.