by David Petrie
Alastair relaxed in his chair. "Okay, now that's out of the way, here comes the part that you needed to be sitting down for." He exhaled and leaned forward on the table, letting his character's persona slip a little, giving Max a glimpse at the man underneath. "One hour ago, I received a video message from Neal Carver, who you are probably aware was just let go from Checkpoint Systems."
"I bet he didn't have anything nice to say, what with the back-stabbing and all." Max leaned one elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand to mirror Kira.
Alastair rolled his eyes. "One common misconception about him and me is that we were the best of friends back when we started this company." He spoke quickly as if he had already explained it several times.
"That is what people say," Max commented.
"Well, people are wrong. The truth is that we had a business relationship and that was all. I was just a nerdy kid that he used to get money so he could work on whatever project he wanted. I was a means to an end to him."
"Scandalous." Kira placed both hands over her mouth and spoke in a voice that to Max sounded like fancy lady gossip. He suppressed a chuckle.
Alastair spoke louder as if defending himself, "I did everything I could to support him when I saw what this system could do. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Noctem … was … worth it." He jabbed his finger at the table with each word for emphasis.
Max lifted his chin from his hand and sat up straight. "Did that have something to do with the recent split?"
"Yes and no." Alastair tilted his head from side to side. "I know the media has been portraying me as a ruthless CEO that cuts people loose when they're no longer useful. But officially, the legal department and I were forced to make the decision to let him go over what the paperwork calls ‘creative differences.’" He held his fingers up to form air quotes. "The ‘creative differences’ being that I didn't want to kill anyone."
"Wait. What?" Max sputtered, dropping his hand from his chin.
"Yeah, that was my reaction too when I found out what he did." Alastair leaned against the armrest of his chair. "Neal tried to run an unauthorized test trial last week on some volunteers. Ultimately, he put their lives at risk."
Kira leaned forward. "How?"
"From the beginning, his goal has always been to push the limits of the system, and we indulged him as long we could. But he kept pushing for more and going beyond what was reasonable. Eventually, we had to shut down his department." Alastair paused as if remembering something. "Neal didn't handle that well. But his feelings aside, the system has come far enough. From a business standpoint, we don't really need any further development right now. That was why he tried to bypass us by doing things off the record. He put a group of people in the system and disabled the safeties that bring users out after ten hours."
"How many hours were they in?" Max asked.
"Over twenty-six."
They both leaned forward in their chairs as Alastair continued.
"We found out and put a stop to it in time, but they could have died from the combination of being in too long and the mixture of sedatives he gave them to keep them under. Which was precisely why I wouldn't sign off on trials like that. Neal is not a doctor and does not know what the hell he is doing when it comes to medicine."
Kira looked worried. "How long does someone have to be logged in before it becomes dangerous?"
"Currently, we know it's safe to stay in the system for sixteen hours. That's how long we tested in the official trials using only light sedatives. We didn't go beyond that. There wasn't a need to," Alastair tilted his head as if thinking of what to say next. "But in theory, prolonged use could cause the brain to think it doesn't need a body. And that would be bad. Heart failure and what not." He raised a judgmental eyebrow at them. "This shouldn't really be news since it's in the health and safety warnings that come with the system."
Both Max and Kira claimed that they had read the booklet, which was clearly a lie ‘cause really, no one ever read those things.
Alastair rolled his eyes. "In the end, Neal forced our hand, and we fired him. We've been keeping the situation quiet and paid out plenty in settlements to the subjects of his unauthorized trial. But obviously, it all kind of backfired on me public image-wise, since no one knows the real reason for his termination."
"That's one way of putting it. You have an angry mob with pitchforks out there." Max left out the fact that the two of them had stolen the farming equipment from a nearby village earlier that night and handed them out to the protesters before heading off to farm scalefangs. Kira had insisted it would be funny. It was kind of funny when Max thought about it. They didn't care enough about the issue to actually protest with the others, but at least they had contributed in their own way.
"I can live with a mob outside my door, but that will be for nothing if Carver gets his way. That's why I need you." Alastair held out both hands as if pleading.
"Okay, you have us here," Max started.
"How can we help?" Kira finished.
"We expected some kind of response when we fired him. We just didn't expect this." Alastair opened his journal and took out his inspector, flicking it out into the air between them. The small glass rectangle expanded to several times its size and the mage leaned back in his chair as if his part was done. Then he swallowed hard.
The image of what looked like a basement filled the portal. Above, there were exposed wooden beams with some of that pink foam insulation packed into the spaces between. Below, a cement wall lined with shelving full of bins contained discarded computer components. The angle of the scene was turned up a hair, like a view from a laptop webcam. In the center of the screen sat a man. Max didn't recognize him, which surprised him. Did he really not know what the creator of the world that he spent a third of his life in looked like?
He was thin with glasses and short, dusty blond hair. His eyes were set deep in their sockets, exacerbated by dark circles as if he hadn't slept in days. He wasn't ugly, just unkempt. Kira shuddered as if some detail about the man bothered her. Max noticed it too, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He just seemed empty somehow.
"Hi, Milo," Carver said in a tone that was hard to read. It wasn't angry, but it wasn't friendly either. "Looks like I'm back in the old lab, huh? Sorry, the media seems to be giving you a hard time. Well, I guess I'm not that sorry." He paused a moment before starting up again. "I'll get right to the point. I'm grateful for the opportunities that you created for me. You gave me what I needed to create a system that I hoped would help people, and so far, it has. Through it, we've found new ways to treat coma patients and gave others with conditions such as locked-in syndrome a way to interact with the world. But I know it can do more. Fortunately, with the money you helped me make, I now have the resources to branch off on my own. And, as I said, I am grateful," his expression hardened, "but you know I never meant for this system to be used for something as childish as Noctem. It's always bothered me that I had to humor your fantasies to get things done. Now that I don't have to, I can't let my system continue to be misused any longer." He let his face soften. "However, I know you love this world and its players. So, while I may not like it, I can't take it away from you without giving you a chance to save it. With that in mind, I figure the best thing to do is to give you what you want. One last adventure." He gave a halfhearted smile. "I figured that you would cut me loose eventually, so I've prepared a little something. Years ago, I added a quest to the game that would become active if I was ever locked out of the system and unable to deactivate it. If this quest is not started by a standard party of six within twenty-four hours, the world of Noctem will end." He paused to let his words sink in. And sink in they did.
Max and Kira gasped. Even the Shield class player standing behind them took a step back.
Carver continued, "Well, to be more accurate, it will be taken apart by …" he hesitated as if searching for the right words before dumbing them down, "let's call it a virus. I mean, it's
not really a virus, but that's probably the best thing to call it so that you and whoever you find don't have to think too much about it. Anyways, I built it into the core of the original system. I'm sure that given time, you could rebuild, but without me, that will take years. And by then, the damage will be done. Don't bother trying to remove the virus; there are plenty of fail-safes in place to ensure the system is destroyed completely. Your people would take weeks to clean it out, and you just don't have that kind of time.
Now, I know what you're thinking - you have an army of Clerics with near god-like powers at your disposal. This will be easy." Carver smiled. "Let me put that thought to rest now. The quest will not, I repeat, will not, accept any character that has equipped a Cleric's armband at any point since its creation." He paused again. "Your champions will have to come from the players, the very people you made me create this world for. And don't bother trying to find me, either; I'll be long gone before you see this." He held up a note card with a set of numbers on it, some kind of location code. Max didn't recognize it. "Here's where you can start the quest. You have twenty-four hours to get ready. Good luck." He reached forward with his other hand and stopped the recording, leaving a blurry image of the last frame on the screen. The note card still held up, telling them where to go.
"Holy crap!" Max and Kira blurted out in unison.
"This is bad," she added.
"Yeah," agreed Max.
"Like real bad," she added again as if once wasn't enough.
Max slapped the table. "How could he just throw all of this away?"
"He doesn't understand." Alastair sighed, sinking into his chair like someone had let the air out of him. "He never has. Games do help people. Especially now, when everyone spends too much time working. We need fantasies." He seemed heartbroken.
Max found himself feeling bad for the vampiric-looking mage. It must have been hard to face the fact that someone he had worked with for so long had never cared about him.
"Wow." Kira’s face fell, the color fading from her cheeks. "All this. Gone."
"Yes. Again, that's why I need you."
"Why us?" Max shifted his tone from one disbelief to suspicion.
Alastair answered with two words, "The Nightmares." He didn't need to say more.
Considered the hardest bosses in Noctem, the Nightmares were infamous. They were battles where one wrong move could get your whole party wiped, Checkpoint's way of catering to the more hardcore players. Granted, everyone else hated them. Not only were they brutal, but they also seemed to have been designed to represent mankind's deepest fears, which added a psychological element that most found disturbing.
They were optional, of course. Although, that didn't really matter when they were the only way to get your hands on some of the most powerful items in the game. Items that could bend the rules of the world in strange and unexpected ways. Sure, some of them only worked once or came with a heavy cost to balance them out, but that was what made them interesting. Still, most players didn't have the patience or skill to suffer through the most torturous experiences that modern gaming had to offer, a fact that got a lot of people frustrated.
Max snorted at the ridiculousness of what he was hearing. "Nice try, but we aren't even on the leaderboards for any of the Nightmares."
Alastair chuckled. "That's true. I've seen a recording of your first attempt at one. You both ran around screaming with your arms flailing in the air before getting killed in one hit. It's a favorite clip amongst some of the developers. They made a blooper reel."
"Oh great." Kira folded her arms. "’Cause that really makes us want to help."
"Sorry, it was pretty funny. But the reason I mentioned it was that you kept trying. And, over time, you got better - which was the point. The Nightmares were the only feature of the game that Neal cared about. He’d even designed them personally. At the time, I was just glad that he was taking an interest, even if his reasons had less to do with the game."
"And those reasons were?" Kira asked.
"I already said, to make you better. It was an exercise to see how fast the brain could learn and adapt. That's why they're so hard; he wanted to push players beyond their limits within the safety of a virtual environment. The results were pretty impressive. And the players retained most of the skills they learned in game when they logged out, even showing improved reaction times and decision-making skills. We call it The Nightmare Effect. There was even some serious interest in what kind of military applications it had." Alastair held up his hand as both Max and Kira began to argue. "Don't worry, that was the one thing that both Neal and I had always agreed on. Neither of us wanted to see what we built used to train people to kill. When that idea came up, we shot it down right quick. But all that aside, when you two went from the screaming idiots that you were to well-oiled Nightmare killing machines, it got our attention."
"So what? We weren't the first." Max waved his hand to brush away the absurd turn the conversation had taken.
"Do you know why neither of you made the leaderboards?" Alastair asked as they both stared at him blankly in response. "You didn't because we removed the original item limitations on the fights to satisfy some of the complaints we got about the Nightmares being unbalanced. Once we did that, most groups just went in with an item bag full of elixirs since they heal everything and boost their stats at the same time. Then they just chugged their way through each fight, making it more about brute force than skill."
"But that would take months of farming," Max argued.
Kira looked up to the side, remembering. "Yeah, we've only had one elixir between us, and we hoarded it for over a year before using it since it was so hard to get."
Alastair nodded. "You're right. The crafting recipe and level needed to make elixirs is huge. And we did that on purpose, so they would be hard to use like that. The thing is, most of the players above you on the leaderboards come from the top houses in Noctem, all of which have about thirty players farming supplies for them nearly non-stop. With that in place, they have a stockpile ready to go for each expansion. It may take them a couple tries before they get lucky, but they can get through a Nightmare pretty quick compared to players that don't cheat the system. So while it's true that you two may not be high in the rankings, you at least fight the way Neal intended for you too. And that is kind of impressive."
Max scoffed at his words. "There have to be other parties out there that do the same."
Alastair considered it a moment. "True, but after studying fight recordings, the two of you are the most consistent. Even when your party changes, you still create a level of teamwork that most leaders can't manage. Not to mention the fact that you've completed many without losing a player and that you've even made it through the more recent ones on your first try."
"Yay us!" Kira circled one finger in the air.
Alastair ignored her. "Anyway, that's the reason I picked you. I need people that can lead a party into any situation. I need this because I don't know what to expect." He leaned forward. "I underestimated Neal on this, and now I don't want to take any chances."
Max turned to Kira, raising his eyebrow to ask how she felt about the quest.
She tilted her head to the side and frowned, which Max understood. She’d never liked responsibility and placing the fate of an entire world on to their shoulders was too much pressure.
He nodded in agreement. He didn’t love it either. Still, there was an offer of payment, and that was something they both could use. He raised his other eyebrow to join the first and pointed to Alastair with his eyes.
Kira leaned her head to the other side. The frown faded somewhat. She was still unsure.
He shifted his eyes around the room to indicate the world they would be fighting for and added a smile to remind her that they both loved it.
Finally, she nodded with a smile of her own.
Max turned back to Alastair. "Okay, we're on board.
Alastair’s brow furrowed like he wasn’t sure how they had
come to that decision without words. “Thank you.”
Max slouched back in his chair. “Can't make any promises, but we like this game, so we'll certainly try our best."
Alastair’s face fell as if he'd said something wrong. "I hope so. After all, the fate of the real world will be in your hands as well."
Max gave him a puzzled expression as Kira cocked her head to the side like a confused pet hearing a recording of its human's voice.
"Okay, maybe that's a little overdramatic,” Alastair bobbed his head, “but businesses have already begun to grow dependent on our system to run globally twenty-four hours a day. Not to mention the fact we are dumping enormous sums of money back into the economy through the sale of the non-game content purchased here. And since most of what we sell is user-created, all of that money goes to regular people who will actually spend it, not corporations who will horde it. My family wasn't wealthy growing up, and my parents sacrificed a lot to get me into MIT, so this is actually a part of the company that I'm particularly proud of."
Max pointed at the man. "Didn't you drop out of MIT?"
Alastair cringed. "Yeah, that didn't go over well at the time. But that's beside the point. I'm not going to say that Checkpoint is going to save the economy or anything, but it's helping. There are plenty of studies to back that up. At the very least, if we lose this system, around a million people will lose their jobs since we employ a staggering number of the world’s programmers. We have to just create enough content to keep up with the demand of our users."
"Shit," Max said, unable to come up with a better response.
Kira summed things up a little better with an obligatory, "No pressure."
"Sorry, but you have to understand how serious this is," Alastair added before giving them a weak smile. "At least your team will be paid well."
"True." Max leaned back in his chair. "Speaking of which, we're only two players, so where are we supposed to get the rest of our party for this?"
"I was hoping that you two would be able to help with that. You must have some friends in mind that you work well with." Alastair placed his hands down on the table in front of him. "This won't be an easy quest, so trusting your team may be the difference between success and failure. I don't want to jeopardize the mission because you don't know your team well enough." He paused, running his finger along the edge of the stone surface. "That being said, I'm not above trying to put at least one of my people in the group." He stood and gestured to the Shield class still standing by the door. "That's where Farnsworth here comes in. She works in the creative department at our headquarters, but her character is unrelated to the company, so she's never been a Cleric. She's a great Shield, which is a class you’re going to need."
