Waypoint: A Game of Drones

by C. F. WALLER

  Hal looks at Weiss, he shrugs, palms up.

  “Do the old game codes work on this version or not?” I press, but he just stares. “It’s a yes or no question.”

  “It’s hard to say, the mainline code has been altered,” he stalls, looking like Jessie did when she got caught with candy under her pillow.

  “How about we try them,” I declare, turning the laptop back in his direction and raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m not,” he stutters. “I mean it’s been a decade. I don’t recall the exact sequence.”

  “Let’s stay on topic,” Hal frowns, seeming to defend him.

  “Lady Grey remembered a sixteen-digit access code from a decade ago. What are the odds you can’t remember one lousy cheat code?”

  He shrugs, then looks over at Hal.

  “That’s okay,” I plow forward, pulling out my phone. “I know someone that does.”

  I dial Kara and ask for the codes. She beats around the bush on which ones I want for five minutes. I lean over the table and dig under a file folder for a yellow note pad.

  “Just give me the top three,” I wink at Weiss, clicking the end of the ball point pen.

  Unlimited Gold: ADNSKE384950DOLS586869GOLD

  Map reveal: AJDEKW53573KKKFF495REVEALMAP

  Spy mode: RNTM684794GKDI685474SPYMODE

  “Thanks,” I offer, but before I can get off the phone she warns me.

  “You need to sign out of his account and into yours before you try these.”

  “Why?”

  “If he’s not fully cooperating, we want him offline. Plus, we want to come at Darius from your direction. You technically have a peace treaty with him.”

  “I don’t know the sign in? How would I have one? Don’t you have to be a beta participant?”

  “Relax, I hacked you a password.”

  “In that case, fire away,” I smirk, pausing to wink at Weiss a second time as I bend over the table to write.

  Login: queenlydia

  Password: 12345

  “Not a very secure password.”

  “I figured you could remember it.”

  “Is it case sensitive?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, call you in a bit with a report,” I thank her quickly, ending the call before she can speak.

  I wiggle my finger for Weiss to get up, then take his seat. Hal points him to the bed, at an angle where he can’t see the screen. The code is still frozen as it was before. At least they were not altering the game while I was gone. Without bothering to ask, I hit escape and the screen returns to the game map. It appears Weiss has only one city, Alberta, which is located in what would normally be Canada. On the top of the screen is a long menu bar. I click on the first tab, labeled FILE, then scroll down and sign out. It’s not me being computer savvy by any stretch of the imagination. Microsoft Office operates in the same way.

  A login box covers the map now, keeping anyone without the credentials from playing. Standing next to the box is a Knight in a black suit of armor. He stands tall, his hands on the handle of a long broad sword. The tip is on the ground, and he leans on it looking menacing.

  “None shall pass,” I mutter, thinking of a Monty Python movie from the seventies.

  I use the login given to me by Kara and the box dissolves. From within the laptop a spinning sound hums, then the map reloads. My civilization possess only one city as well, Jamestown, located on the eastern seaboard. The entire map is covered in thick clouds, obscuring my view. They are clear over my city, but only a few spaces in any direction. There is a pigtail of clear skies down the coast to Florida. Visible over the spot where I was a castaway.

  “How about we reveal map,” I announce, watching Weiss, who stares at the carpet.

  My excitement fades when I search for a place to enter the code. I click on all the drop down menus lined up on the top ribbon, but none look right. It would say cheat codes, wouldn’t it?

  “Probably not,” I remark under my breath. “Where do I enter the cheat codes?”

  Weiss chooses not to answer, pantomiming as if he’s turning a key over his lips.

  “Right, not on our team,” I sigh, opening my phone and dialing Kara.

  Happy to help, she instructs me to hold down the control and F8 keys. After only a few seconds a red box pops up. There aren’t any instructions, but a wizard stands to the left of the key entry square, rubbing his hands together and grinning. He looks like Gandalf or the head whatever from Harry Potter. Is this why she asked what Harry Potter book I would choose?

  I enter the long code, stopping to read it, then hunting and pecking the rest. When it’s all there, I hit return and as if by magic the clouds slowly fade away. An animation of a dragon stands on the map icon for Jamestown turning slowly in a circle as if he’s blowing the clouds away. I expect to see all the cities, but there is only my own. The rest of the world map is blank.

  “There are no other cities,” I speak into the phone, with it pinned between my chin and shoulder. “I can see the land masses, but no cities or towns.”

  “That’s because you haven’t made contact with anyone yet.”

  “I thought I had a peace treaty with Darius?”

  “You do, but he was in your territory when you encountered him. You haven’t explored at all.”

  “I always was a homebody,” I mutter under my breath, then set the phone on the table, turning on the speaker. “So, I need to build boats or something?” I hum, using the pull-down menus to find a list of things I can build. “How about a P-51 Mustang? It’s on the menu to build.”

  “Do you have forty-five minutes,” Kara’s voice complains out of the tiny speaker. “It takes that long to construct.”

  “I’d prefer not to take—.”

  “That’s if you have the raw materials. Which you probably don’t.”

  “Do you have a better solution?”

  “Of course, enter the cheat for Spy mode.”

  When I choose this option, the character on the side of the red box is woman in a tight black skirt and copped jacket. She’s wearing a hat with a veil over her face, leaving only her grinning mouth visible. I peck out the code and hit return. I wait, but nothing happens.

  “Nada.”

  “Go back to where you saw the P-51 and scroll down to Spy,” Kara instructs. “Then click on it and drag her on the map wherever you want to see.”

  I do, dropping the spy over Canada. She falls at first, as if pushed out of a plane with no parachute. After preforming a superhero landing, complete with a thumping sound effect, she dissolves into a black swarm of flies, moving in an ever-widening circle. After a moment, the swarm uncovers Alberta, Weiss’s city. A pop up menu shows a cartoon parody of a heavy-set man in a furry winter hat with ear flaps. He smiles, then his voice blares out of the laptop’s speakers.

  “Greeting President Lydia. I am Doug, King of Canada, aye. On behalf of all Canadians, I would welcome peace with your people.”

  “I think the Canadians would find this guy offensive,” I wince, looking at Weiss.

  “A kernel of truth resides inside every stereotype,” he argues.

  A drop-down menu allows me to choose between a variety of diplomatic options. Kara directs me to the correct ones and then the entire area held by King Doug is revealed, but still has only the one city. I drop a spy on Europe, but nothing is revealed. I try South America and China as well. China uncovers six cities and I make peace with Chairman Kato, another offensive reference, this time to the Green Hornets driver. The animation of Kato is impressive, although the broken English is a gross exaggeration. A long shot of the Great Wall rolls by as we wander along chatting. No need to disable graphics on Weiss’s laptop.

  “Drop one on the middle east,” Kara suggests. “Darius was the King of Persia.”

  When I do, a half dozen cities pop into view. Babylon is obvious, but also listed are Persepolis, Susa, Bactra, Sardis and Ecbatana. These must be the names of ancient cities, but I am no historical sch
olar. A box pops up with a greeting from Darius, but it’s just a comic book style bubble with text. Why isn’t he speaking? The animation is more of a looking glass, than a person. I am reminded of the scene in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy finds the Great and Mighty Oz standing behind a curtain. A yellow halo of light surrounds a crystal ball, or possibly a mirror.

  “There’s no animation for Darius. It’s just a glowing ball.”

  “Did he announce himself?”

  “Just a text bubble introducing him as Darius.”

  I was a President, Doug was a King, and Kato was a Chairman. Darius is just plain Darius. When I click the bubble, he verifies there is peace between our two Nations, then the box closes abruptly. There is no optional diplomatic menu. How rude.

  “He didn’t offer me any other diplomatic options?” I explain.

  “It should have. It always does.”

  “Why doesn’t he have a title?”

  “He’s a Despot. As you discover things, the options for Democracy, Monarchy, Communism, Feudalism, Fundamentalism and so on become available.”

  “That’s a lot of ism’s.”

  “Funny. Listen, everyone begins as a Despot, he has chosen to remain one.”

  “Is there an advantage to that?”

  “He doesn’t have to ask anyone for permission to attack,” she reveals. “In a Democracy, you’d need congress to approve, a Monarch needs Parliamentary support—.”

  “Communists?”

  “That’s complicated, but Despot is the only type where you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, to anyone you want,” she snickers. There are significant disadvantages associated with being a Despot.”

  “Such as?”

  “Less culture, slow scientific discovery. But he probably has the cheats so he can make up the difference.”

  “Why would he have the cheats?”

  “He literally is the program. The cheats are written into the line code. Let’s assume he can read his own writing.”

  I turn, making brief eye contact with Weiss. He wears the look of a confident man. A glance at Hal is less reassuring. He looks impatient, as if this is taking too long. How fast does he think it should go?

  “Interesting, what next?” I lean over the phone, speaking into it.

  “How much gold do you have?”

  Along the top of the screen are various icons, followed by numbers. A purple heart, crossed swords, a hammer and a yellow circle, that looks like a gold coin.

  “Thirty-five? Is that a lot?”

  “No, you’re as broke as I am,” she jokes. “Use the gold cheat.”

  I do, and an animation of an Ebenezer Scrooge like character holding tight to an iron box wanders across the screen. When I hit enter, the box starts leaking golden coins. They roll about, eventually falling off the bottom of the screen. As they do the number next to the yellow circle jumps to a hundred thousand. The animation of the Dicken’s character morphs into a homeless version of Bob Cratchett, then shakes a fist at me.

  “Add Charles Dickens to the copyright infringement litigation,” I grin, glancing at Weiss.

  “Did it work?” Kara’s voice chirps.

  “Yeah, I’m the top hat and monocle guy from Monopoly.”

  “Use the pull-down menu under Build and choose walls. When it tells you how many turns it will take to complete them, double click and choose Buy Walls.”

  I do and a brick and mortar wall is built in a time lapse video clip, ending in celebratory trumpet blast.

  “Done, why do I need those?”

  “Self-defense, plus he can’t slip any spies in this way.”

  “Okay, what next?”

  “Come get me,” she demands. “I’m the best and you’re going to need the best.”

  “Kara,” I stutter, then glance over at Hal.

  He nods, then pulls out his phone and steps away.

  “Well?”

  “Yeah, I think we can make that happen. Pack a bag and hold tight. I’d imagine it won’t take long for them to get to you.”

  “I’ll be down at Rat’s,” she boasts. “Send the men in black over there.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks,” she blurts out in an emotional tone. “Thanks for including me.”

  “We need the best,” I offer, trying to sound excited.

  “You really, really do,” she agrees, then ends the call.

  I am lost in thoughts of having to run interference between Kara and Hal, but decide if he is willing to include her, that’s on him. I am most worried that when this is over she will know too much for him to just let her go. Inviting her may not be a favor to her in the long run. When I glance up, Weiss is glaring at me.

  “You prefer riots and war to helping us?”

  “In my position, you might view this situation much differently.”

  “How so?”

  “There was no premeditation on my part. I did not plan for this to happen. That said, it’s likely I will be held responsible.”

  “It’s your rouge program.”

  “Maybe so, but you gave it wings.”

  His words stall the conversation, as if a car hit a brick wall. He’s not wrong. How could Weiss have known where the QC was headed? It’s possible Peter Bishop told him, but did Bishop even know. A full minute goes by before my words hit the air. Someone needs to reboot the conversation. Or is it an interrogation?

  “Technically speaking, you did enter a government facility and load the software.”

  “I was invited to the facility by a government employee,” he argues, then pauses. “Technically speaking.”

  “Might go better for you if you cooperate now.”

  “Possibly, but I am choosing door number two.”

  “That being?”

  “If Darius takes down this country, there will be no one left to hold me accountable,” he nods at Hal.

  “Don’t count on it,” Hal pauses from his call to comment.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I commandeer Weiss’ laptop, much the way Katz commandeered the Cessna. When I do so it sends him into a yelling fit. Hal has to call Katz to hold him back, until I leave the room. I don’t want Weiss to log on and do any damage. Hal and I go down to the restaurant in the hotel and grab lunch. We eat on tall stools in the bar, talking little. He gets a call every so often and always steps away to take them.

  I’m picking at the last onion ring when a commotion erupts near the bathrooms in the back. I expect it to calm down after a bit, but a guy in a San Diego Chargers jersey struts back through the bar. He leans over and whispers to his friend, who rushes to the back.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” he replies, but I see a folded over twenty in his hand.

  I start to rise, but a woman threads her way through the tall tables holding a wad of bills over her head. Why would Darius start the ATM strategy here? Hal comes back, but is bumped by a girl in a maid uniform rushing past him. The first guy’s friend comes back shrugging, empty handed.

  “What’s up in here?” Hal mutters, sliding onto his stool.

  “The ATM thing just started.”

  “Again?” he frowns. “It burned itself out back East yesterday. The cities are still on fire, but the machines stopped barfing out twenties.”

  “Looks like the fire’s only just beginning here,” I remark, watching a line form.

  “Probably the whole West coast. Maybe it took a while to reload his cash stash.”

  “Only one way to tell,” I suggest, pointing at the massive big screen.

  Hal pays an unspecified amount in the form of a bribe. The bartender turns off a soccer game and clicks over to CNN. This might cause a problem in a normal sports bar, except everyone here is cueing up for the ATM. The quickly expanding line runs out the front doors and into the lobby. Hal and I have coffee, keeping an eye on the news ribbon for any other ATM malfunctions. An hour into the fray, the tiny ATM runs out of bills and shuts down. After a marginal shouting
match, people disperse into the lobby.

  “That’s a break for the home team,” I sigh, but then a wave of people jog past the bar entrance.

  “Is there an ATM out there?” Hal asks, looking over his shoulder.

  “What do you think,” I groan, running my hands through my hair. “We should go talk to Weiss. I don’t —.”

  “There,” Hal cuts me off, pointing at the screen. “ATM malfunctions in San Diego.”

  “That was fast?”

  “Took an hour. Looks like it’s confined to this geographic area.”

  “Nowhere else?”

  “Trust me,” Hal smirks, sipping his coffee. “If it was the entire West Coast, San Diego would not have been the lead.”

  I stare down at my phone on the edge of the wobbly round table. Should I call and ask? It’s hard to say if a text would get through, but this feels oddly personal. I get my hand on the phone then another thought creeps in. I signed into the Dynasty Evolved game upstairs. It’s not a stretch to assume he can track either my phone, or the IP address at this hotel. Before I can share, Hal gets another call. He holds up a finger then presses the phone to his shoulder.

  “Gotta take this,” he groans, talking as he walks away. “Yeah, it’s happening here.”

  I watch him exit, pausing outside the doors to look back on the ATM induced chaos taking place in the lobby. I open my phone and choose the text icon. Scrolling back through a slew of Kara’s, I arrive on the ones received in the raft. Here goes nothing.

  ME: Why San Diego?

  There’s no reply, which is almost reassuring. The waitress comes by and refills my coffee. While I’m adding sugar, the phone vibrates across the table, nearly falling off the edge. Oddly, this is the first time I have wished for the text to be from Kara.

  DARIUS: No boarders were crossed

  ME: You’re destabilizing my country

  DARIUS: Yes, but technically not an act of war

  His use of the word technically reminds me of my conversation with Weiss. Did I use it first or was it him? How much of himself did the programmer add to the game?

  ME: Technically you can win by Cultural victory, so it is an act of war