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Level Up

Page 10

by Craig Anderson


  He hangs up the phone and stares at me with a look of genuine fear. I wait for him to tell me what is going on, and when he doesn’t I say, “What is it? You can’t just answer my phone and not tell me what they said.”

  “It was Miss. Jones.”

  He doesn’t need to say anything more. My heart starts to pound and I resist the urge to turn my new shoes back on and run as far as I can in the opposite direction. Sarah looks at us both bemused and says, “Who is Miss Jones?”

  “She is the head of HR at Master Systems. She said Marcus has to go in immediately.”

  “Ok, so what’s the big deal?”

  “She’s terrifying. I have seen grown men coming out of a meeting with her balling their eyes out. They call her the Executioner. If you end up in a room with her it means you’re already terminated.” Says Carlos.

  “Ok, so just don’t go in then. What’s the worst that can happen.”

  If only it was that simple. I finish reading the status update that just appeared and says, “I don’t have a choice. It just popped up as a new main quest item.”

  LEVEL 11: THE EXECUTIONER

  Carlos hugs me as if I’m about to walk the green mile. I say, “You’d better get out of here before she sees you playing hooky.”

  That’s enough to make him release his grip and jog back to the car. I barely get to wave at Sarah before the car screeches away, leaving me all alone.

  I try walking into the building, but my security pass isn’t working. That’s not a great sign. I push the intercom and the crackly voice of the receptionist says, “Master Systems, how can I help you.”

  “Hi, it’s Marcus Kennedy. My pass doesn’t seem to be working.”

  The door buzzes open without another word. As soon as I enter reception a security guard appears. “Please follow me sir.”

  He leads me down the corridor towards HR. The walls are covered in motivational posters from forty years ago that look as tattered as the morale around here.

  DETERMINATION

  ENDURANCE

  INTEGRITY

  We stop at a frosted glass door and the security guard knocks once and scurries away before there is an answer. No doubt he’s on his way to my desk to retrieve my meagre possessions.

  I consider running again, but then I will never complete my quest. I grit my teeth and stand my ground until the door slides open. Miss Jones is smiling. That’s a bad sign. I’ve never seen her smile before. It looks almost reptilian, her eyes dead of emotion and her lip quivering as if she has to expend effort to hold it there. She gestures to the seat opposite her desk, which has been host to more terminations than an electric chair.

  I take a deep breath and sit down. There’s a bowl of mints on her desk that look like they have been there since the building was erected. Miss Jones waddles back to her seat and strains to fit into it, her carefully tailored pant suit crinkling as she wedges herself in. She smells faintly of cat food and hair spray. She stares at me as if she has never met me before, despite the fact I’ve been in here half a dozen times to complain about Jenkins.

  After a lengthy pause she says, “Mr. Kennedy. Can you please tell me why you believe it was ok to abandon your job today?”

  “Of course. There was an incident last night…”

  She interrupts me, “Yes, we are aware that you were out drinking last night. I would also like to understand why you think it is ok to get drunk on company time.”

  “Company time? It was 10 pm, and I didn’t actually have a…”

  “Your role requires you to be on call twenty four seven, therefore all time is company time.”

  Ok, it’s on. I’m not going to sit here and be assassinated. “Well you only pay me for eight of those hours.”

  She reaches up and pulls down a binder the size of a concrete slab. It looks like it weighs about as much as one too. She opens it with a creak to reveal well worn pages. She caresses each page as she turns it, as if it’s her favourite novel. Eventually she stops and scans a page until she says, “Chapter 17, Section 4, subsection 9 of the employee handbook states, and I quote, resources represent the company at all times and must behave in a manner that is fitting. Failure to do so will result in penalties up to and including termination of employment.”

  “Ok. I’m not sure how that applies. I didn’t even drink.”

  “So how do you explain your absence from work this afternoon young man?”

  “If you’d let me explain…”

  “Mr. Jenkins says you have been increasingly hostile lately. It sounds to me that this is some petty act of rebellion because he refused to give in to your demands to be promoted.”

  I clench my fists. “Increasingly hostile? I’ve done every ridiculous thing he has asked me to. I work twice as hard as anyone else on the team. Three times now he has promised me a promotion, and then found an excuse to put it off.”

  “Ah I see, so you think you’re better than everyone else, is that it? This must be causing the air of superiority he mentioned. I’m afraid we can’t tolerate this kind of behaviour, it is bad for morale.”

  Now I’m really angry. I struggle to keep my voice level. “You think that is what is hurting morale? How about our manager taking three hour lunch breaks while we do his work for him? How about him taking credit for everything we do and throwing us under the bus the moment there is a hint of a problem? We’ve had seven team members burnout in the last 12 months. I’m the longest serving member on the team and I’ve only been here three years. It seems to me that I am not the problem here.”

  Her eyes narrow. She’s honing in on her prey. “I’ve heard enough. We won’t tolerate this kind of toxic attitude here at Master Systems. According to Chapter 9, section 12, subsection 19, I am terminating your employment effective immediately, without severance pay or references. Your things will be dropped off at the address we have on file for you.”

  I should be devastated, but I’m not. I don’t even want this job. I haven’t wanted it for at least 12 months. Getting fired is probably the best thing that could happen to me, but I am not going to let that happen. If they think I’m just going to roll over and take this laying down, they’ve come to the wrong place. “I’ve complained a dozen times about Jenkins and you did nothing. He complains about me once and I get the boot?”

  “Goodbye Mr. Kennedy. We are done here.”

  I stand up and slam my hand down on the desk, making her jump. Before I can say anything my hand brushes against the employee handbook and a prompt appears.

  Use Data Analysis?

  I select Y. In seconds I extrapolate every useful piece of information from the dusty binder. There are twelve sentences in the entire 500 page document that have any meaning or value, but they are all I need.

  I sit back down and kick my feet up on her desk. “Actually Miss Jones, we are just getting started. Can you please explain to me why you believe it is ok to ignore Chapter 4, Section 3, subsection 9 which states that an employee must be given two verbal notices and a written warning before a termination based on behaviour can be considered?”

  She flips through the pages until she finds the section I am referring to. As she scans it her face starts to redden. She stutters, “This is dismissal with cause, the standard guidelines doesn’t apply.”

  “Ah I see, well Chapter 24, section 3, subsection 5 lays out the reasons for dismissal with cause and I fail to see one that applies to my situation. I can recite them to you if you’d like? Or I can tell you seven ways you are currently violating our dress code.”

  She slams the binder shut, a scowl leaking out from under her carefully measured expression. She hefts up the tome and places it carefully back on the shelf. I think she’s going to shout for security, but instead she turns and slaps me right across the face. The sound echoes in the tiny room. My health bar loses 25% instantly and a health bar almost as wide as she is appears over her head.

  Level 20 Bureaucrat.

  I wasn’t expecting a fist fight. I’m no
t prepared for this at all. I try to turn and run, but the door is firmly locked. She is at least twice my size and also a woman. Hitting her is going to be an issue.

  I’m busy being all chivalrous when she throws a handful of stress balls at me. Instead of bouncing harmlessly off me they hit with the force of squishy cannonballs. If I wasn’t wearing this hoodie I am pretty sure I’d be dead already. I can’t just stand here and take it, I won’t last 10 seconds. I’m going to have to fight back.

  Prepare to eat pies! I cast my newest spell at her, the pie hitting her right between the eyes. It’s hard to tell if it did any damage, certainly not enough to be worth throwing another one. She wipes whipped cream off her face with a scowl.

  I grab a handful of mints and jam them in my mouth. They crunch between my teeth and a fraction of my health returns. I glance around the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. My best option is a large pot plant in the corner. Unfortunately Miss Jones has seen it too, and she uproots it in one tug. She swings it at me and I only just manage to duck out of the way in time. There’s no room in here to roll around, if she backs me into the corner I’m going to get pot planted to death. That is not how I plan on going out.

  She takes another swing at me. I wait for the prompt, and there it is. I select it and immediately disarm her. I heft the pot right at her and it explodes, showering her with mud and ceramic. It does a decent amount of damage, but it’s not much use to me now. I fling it at her and she dodges with surprising speed as the pot plant embeds itself in the far wall.

  She reaches out and tries to grab me in a bear hug. I only just manage to break free. That’s another way I’m not planning to die today, smothered by a middle aged lady covered in cat hair. I need to keep her at a distance.

  So much for that idea. She grabs another handful of stress balls and gets ready to fire them my way. I instinctively pick up the employee handbook to shield myself. It absorbs most of the impact, but she charges at me like a bull in the world’s smallest china shop. There’s nowhere to run. I have to time this right. Just before she makes impact I smack her across the face with the manual and the rest of her health bar evaporates as the binder explodes, showering the room with paper. It seems the only thing more effective than facts against HR is using their own rules against them. I guess I found her weak spot.

  Breaking the rules - 2 of 4 Fears conquered. 50% complete.

  I’m waiting for her to pass out, or better yet dissolve, but instead she straightens her collar and says, “You’ve made some excellent counter arguments. I may have been hasty with your termination. Let me have a conversation with Mr. Jenkins and fill him in on our discussion. For now, please consider yourself employed here.”

  It’s a hard fact to celebrate. “Thanks, I guess.”

  I see a flashing icon on the ground next to where Miss Jones was felled. I walk over to it and see that it is a new ability.

  Passive: Bullshit detector.

  What on earth does that do? I pick it up and it gets added to my move list.

  Miss Jones wipes whipped cream from the corner of her mouth and then stares at it, confused. I try the door again and it slides open easily. I get out of there as quick as I can, grabbing a handful of mints on my way.

  I find Carlos and Sarah waiting for me around the corner. Carlos pulls a chunk of pot plant out of my hair. “How did it go?”

  “It got a little heated, but we worked it out.”

  He looks genuinely impressed. “How did you convince her to give you another chance?”

  “I hit her with the employee handbook.”

  “Nice! I didn’t realize that thing was worth the paper it’s written on.”

  “You’d be impressed with how impactful it was.”

  “Where to now?” asks Carlos.

  “Drive thru.”

  He laughs, “did you work up an appetite arguing for your job?”

  “There may have been a minor physical confrontation.”

  He slaps me heartily on the back. “That’s the spirit! I wish I could have seen that.”

  If you’d told me this morning that I would be beating seven shades out of the head of HR with a pot plant I’d have laughed in your face.

  Perhaps dying wasn’t so bad after all…

  LEVEL 12: STACK OVERFLOW

  As we sit in the fast food carpark Carlos says, “We are almost at the end of the first day. We need to speed this up. I think we’re going to have to find some bugs.”

  “I should be offended, but based on your last time playing the game I’m going to assume there are plenty more exploits to find. What do you have in mind?” asks Sarah.

  “I just need a solid hour in the game to test out a few theories.” He glances over to Sarah, “You could take Marcus to that thing we talked about while he was in with Miss Jones.”

  “What thing?” I don’t like the sound of that. Since when are these two making plans without me?

  “It’s a surprise,” states Carlos. “You’re going to love it.”

  Somehow I doubt that.

  We drive back to the university. Sarah and Carlos run off to her office, leaving me in reception. I slump into the nearest chair. I should be exhausted, but I feel totally fine. Still, it’s nice to sit for a moment and not have to worry about fighting for my life.

  I’m minding my own business when I see a familiar face peering around the corner at me. I say, “Hey Professor Jasper. Are you ok?”

  He doesn’t say a word, but he frantically waves me to him. I walk over and he drags me into his office, slamming the door behind him. “Are you winning?”

  “Erm, I don’t know exactly yet. It’s a bit early to tell.”

  “It is imperative that you win the game.”

  “Well yeah, if I don’t I’m dead, so I’d say it’s pretty high on my to-do list. Why the sudden concern for my well being?”

  “Because I believe there may be more at stake here than we realize. Look at this.” He spins his screen towards me. It is covered in random lines of code and scrambled text. I say, “Wow, that’s fascinating. What is it?”

  “It’s the simulation code. The rift in reality has made the simulation unstable. I have found a way to see behind the curtain, so to speak.”

  So there it is. The code that runs the universe. I should be in awe, but I still don’t know what difference this makes. I didn’t need any more convincing.

  “Is this a good thing? Can you stop what is happening to me?”

  “Alas no, I can only see the code, I can’t modify it. That would be like trying to hack into MI5 using your calculator. I can only see fragments, snippets here and there, but even then something isn’t right. Look at this.” He points to a block of code that is a different colour to the rest. As I watch it slowly expands, one line at a time, filling more and more of the screen. I say, “I’m going to need a little help deciphering this.”

  “That red section is the game code. It is spreading. I thought it might stay contained if your general vicinity, but that isn’t true. It’s trying to make the whole world your play space. If you can’t beat the game it will overrun the entire simulation.”

  “What then?”

  “There are two possible outcomes. Either the entire world will continue as the game in your absence, a world without a player. Alternatively the simulation will become corrupted beyond repair and will be deleted.”

  “Wait, you’re telling me that if I don’t beat the game, either way the entire world is screwed?”

  “Precisely. Your decisions are no longer your own. You are fighting for the survival of the entire planet. You must therefore do everything in your power to win, no matter the cost.”

  Well that’s just marvellous. Just what I needed, something else to worry about. From my point of view it doesn’t really change anything, either way I would be dead, but do I really want to be the guy that is responsible for ending the whole world?

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Of course. Th
e data doesn’t lie.”

  “Well that’s just marvellous. Thanks for this little pep talk, it’s been a real motivator.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  He goes back to staring at his computer as if we’d been politely discussing the weather. Now I’m really starting to panic. How can I deal with this kind of responsibility?

  I walk down the hall to Sarah’s office. Carlos is still in the game, a daft grin on his face. Sarah looks less impressed. She says, “He’s found 37 bugs already.”

  She looks at me more closely and her expression folds into one of concern. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, the day is just catching up with me.” I know I should tell them, but what will it achieve? This is my burden to carry.

  She’s still staring. She knows something is wrong. I need a diversion.

  I glance at her screen and Carlos is dual wielding pistols. “I thought this was a medieval fantasy game?”

  “It is. We’ve used a commercial engine though and I guess some of the generic assets are still available. Carlos found a way to stack overflow the inventory system and next thing I know he has pistols. There are no bullets defined in our game, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing him down.”

  I watch as the guns shoot out a barrage of fireballs. He then draws a six foot sword made of ice. I look at Sarah and she says, “It is supposed to be six inch dagger. I still don’t know how he broke that one.”

  Carlos slices through a mob of skeletons with ease, each swipe freezing his enemies in place. As the others try to grab him he uses the frozen corpses to block their attacks. He back flips into the air, raining down fireballs like a one man meteor storm. The rest of the mob are turned to ash before he hits the ground. Sarah stares at me and I say, “He had a misspent youth.”

 

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