“Have you noticed anything different since you logged out?” Rose asked.
“I’m a large green Orc . . . so . . . nope, no change,” Andy replied sarcastically.
“You are also half a foot taller than you were,” Charlie added.
“Not what I meant,” Rose said.
“Okay, you said you look like an Orc now, right?” I tried.
“Yes, I look like a big, mean, scary, ugly as sin Orc,” Andy replied. “My sister looks like a big, mean, scary as sin Orc. What’s your point?”
I could tell he was starting to get annoyed with me, I also noted he didn’t describe his sister as ugly but that could have been for self-preservation. I couldn’t really judge for myself with the way the hood covered most of her head and face.
“In the game, Orc’s get a bonus to strength, right? Have you noticed if you’re stronger?” I asked.
Andy quirked his eyebrows as he looked at me. “I can’t say I’ve checked,” he answered.
“Would you mind going to the gym with us to check?” I asked.
“I told you we’re trapped in the game,” Charlie said.
Andy rolled his eyes. “Fine, let’s go check it out then,” he said. “If nothing else, this might finally prove that we are not trapped in the game.”
Back into the elevator, we went. The gym was large but unlike the room above, which was mostly empty, this floor was completely empty.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Most of the ‘afflicted’, as we’re being called, have taken to hiding in their rooms. The two on the couch were Fritz and Leo, they are brothers from Germany, or so the translator on our phones told us. You might meet John and his wife Sarah and their daughter Lucy later,” Andy answered, giving me a little information on the situation. “We’ve seen a few others here and there.”
“I can see that,” I muttered.
“Anyway, what are you thinking? Treadmill, maybe a dumbbell curl?” Andy asked.
“Dumbbells,” Rose said, spotting the rack of weights and moving first. “I want to test my own strength.”
“Wait,” I said before Rose picked up a dumbbell. “What was your strength stat when you logged out, without any gear or equipment bonuses being applied?”
“I was at 152-Strength,” Rose answered.
“And you Andy? Charlie?” I asked.
“I only had 101-Strength,” Andy answered. “I was an Orc Portal Mage.”
“How do Portal Mage’s fight?” I asked, allowing myself to be distracted for a moment.
“There are a few ways. My favorite is to open a portal over my enemy and put the other side inside a volcano, or in the middle of a blizzard. Then you just bring the environment crashing down on your enemy,” Andy answered.
“I have a 234-Strength,” Charlie boasted, drawing the conversation back on target. “Orc Assassin for the win.”
“What level are you guys?” Rose asked.
“My avatar is level 61,” Andy answered. It felt like he said ‘avatar’ specifically to make sure it was separate from the game.
“Mine is the same,” Charlie replied.
“Okay, so your maximum strength is 610,” I said. “However, your current carrying capacity should be 760-pounds for Rose, 505-pounds for Andy, and 1,170-pounds for Charlie.”
“In the game,” Andy stated firmly.
“Yes, in the game,” I corrected, even if I wasn’t completely sure that would be true anymore. “Do you know how much you used to be able to lift . . . before all this?” I asked, motioning to our bodies and the obvious changes.
“I was never what you would call a weightlifter . . . or active, neither was my sister,” Andy said.
“Gamer nerds,” Charlie stated cheerfully.
“Okay, let’s do this in steps then,” I said. “Start with the 10-pound weight and curl it once, then go up by 10-pounds and keep working up the line.”
Andy lowered his hoodie and rolled his shoulders before picking up one of the dumbbells with a ‘10’ stamped into either end of the weight. He curled it once effortlessly and put it back. “I could have done that before. It doesn’t prove anything.”
“I’m just trying to establish a baseline,” I said.
Andy frowned and moved on to the dumbbell marked ‘20’, while Rose and Charlie followed behind him, each lifting the ‘10’. Another effortless curl and he set the dumbbell back. He didn’t comment this time, just moved to the next dumbbell marked ‘30’. Another curl and the dumbbell was quickly put back. Andy seemed to become frantic at this point, moving on to the ‘40’, ‘50’, ‘60’, and down the line. It wasn’t until he hit the dumbbell marked ‘90’ that he was finally slowed down a little, but not enough to stop him. He moved all the way to the dumbbell marked ‘150’, the heaviest available dumbbell but he couldn’t curl it more than a few inches. Whether that was due to being tired from the other curls or that it was just beyond him, I couldn’t be sure. All I did know was that he was far stronger than a normal human should be. And both Rose and Charlie were stronger than he was, both easily curling the last dumbbell.
“But that’s impossible,” Andy finally voiced, backing away from the weights. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” I said. The handstand from earlier wasn’t a fluke.
“Okay, Jack, flip for me,” said Rose.
I swallowed nervously, taking a moment to test the give in the padded flooring. Satisfied, I bent my legs slightly as I had done so many times before inside the game. I pushed off, easily rotating through the air and landing lightly on my feet. Not only was I more than strong enough to perform the action, but it felt natural to me. Like my muscles remembered how. Different from in the game but similar.
I cursed afterward. It was too easy and comfortable. I felt the strain on my joints but not on my muscles.
“We are so trapped in the game,” said Charlie, no hint of joking in her voice.
“No, we’re not,” I said. “This is not the game. This is something else.”
“Any idea what that might be?” Rose asked.
“Genetic editing,” a familiar French accent said from near the elevator. It was Dr. Corentin.
“It was the nanomachines,” I said. Genetic editing was extremely illegal in every country in the world. It was considered a war crime when used to enhance anyone beyond human standards. Made so after China destroyed itself when their enhanced soldiers rebelled. It was the inciting incident that resulted in another World War. After that war ended, every country was quick to agree to making it illegal with few exceptions. Things like fixing eyesight, birth defects, or a genetic disease were the only legal uses of such technology.
“Yes, it was,” the doctor said.
“How did It reprogram them?” I wondered aloud.
“It?” Dr. Corentin asked. “Surely you do not think Mr. Dawson would do such a thing?”
“No, I do not,” I said, I shared a look with Rose. Her eyes darted to Andy and Charlie then shook her head.
“If you know something, you need to tell us,” Andy said, sounding panicked.
I wanted to share but I knew that it could also cause problems. “I should speak with Dawson first,” I said.
Dr. Corentin huffed before pulling out a phone. “I’ll be back in a moment”
“What is going on?” Andy asked.
“I don’t know how much I can say,” I replied. “That’s why I need to talk to Dawson.”
“Screw that guy, I deserve the truth,” Andy shouted, starting to hyperventilate.
“And I promise I’ll tell you and everyone else the truth,” I said. “But I need to talk to Dawson first. If I tell you and don’t have a solution, it could cause a panic. The last thing we . . . or anyone else needs right now is a bunch of genetically enhance people panicking.”
Andy looked like he was about to take a swing at me, but his sister put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn sharply to face her. The anger on his face quickly melted and
his breathing calmed. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” he said after a moment of staring at his sister’s Orcified face. “A solution would probably be good,” he said, turning back to look at me.
“Agreed,” Rose said, smiling at me. “For now, I imagine the doctor would like to keep this information quiet."
“You would be correct,” Dr. Corentin said, slipping her phone back into the pocket of her lab coat. “Mr. Dawson will arrive in one hour to speak with you.”
“About time,” Rose said.
Dr. Corentin sighed exasperatedly. “Mr. Galwin, Ms. Galwin, perhaps now would be a good time to return to your rooms. Ms. Wolfe, Mr. Jacobs, please come with me.”
A few minutes later we rode the elevator to the top floor and were escorted into Dr. Corentin’s executive office. It gave me my first good view of the entire campus. There were maybe a dozen other buildings, including one that must have three times the height of this one. The main corporate office was my guess. Outside of the campus was nothing but forest as far as I could see. To have this much land must have cost Dawson trillions of dollars, especially with all the green space between the building. It made me curious about the funding . . . then again, I invested a large amount of my own small fortune to help grow this company, I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised they could afford such a place.
“Is there anything you can tell me?” Dr. Corentin asked.
“May I ask a few questions first?” I requested.
“Certainly,” Dr. Corentin said, nodding for me to go ahead with my questions.
“How did you find those of us that were ‘afflicted’ as you like to call it?” I asked.
“After the first dozen reports of physical alteration hit our switchboard, we knew that the physical changes could only have been done by the nanomachines. A little research into shipping orders for the nanomachines and we were able to find everyone who received that specific batch,” she answered.
“How many ‘afflicted’ are there now?” I asked.
“Including you and your friend here there are eighty-eight,” Dr. Corentin answered.
“You’re missing 12 or 13 of us,” I said.
“How do you . . . I assure you. We have collected all the ‘afflicted’,” the doctor assured me.
“Did you have any false positives?” I asked.
“A few, but they looked completely normal,” Dr. Corentin answered.
“Yeah, they may look normal, but I guarantee you they have been genetically edited,” I said. Seeing the confusion on the doctor’s face, I elaborated, “Some people like to play looking like themselves.”
The doctor frowned and took a tablet from her desk. “Thirteen false positives, merde!” Dr. Corentin was quickly back out of her office, a phone at her ear. A moment later, we could hear her through the office door, she was yelling at someone.
“I hope they don’t blame you for any of this,” Rose said, taking my hand in hers. “From an outside perspective, it must look like you know way too much about the situation.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” a male voice interrupted, followed by Mitchell Dawson entering the room.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, it had barely been ten minutes since the doctor had called him. Then I noticed the large mirror and the click of a door closing from the hallway. “Is that a two-way mirror?”
Mitchell Dawson was taller than I expected, having me by an inch or two easily. His sandy brown hair was cropped short, and despite the age lines on his face, his hair showed no grey or silver. His average build was underwhelming for someone so powerful in the world of technology. He also seemed to try hard at the geek sheik look with a sportscoat and a vintage printed t-shirt under it.
“Yes, it is,” Dawson answered unabashedly. “I wanted to observe you, see what the good doctor could get out of you before I spoke with you. Then you dropped that bombshell. So, care to tell me how you knew?”
“Epic told me,” I said, causing Dawson’s fair skin to pale dramatically as the blood drained from his face.
Chapter 3
“What do you know about Epic?” Mitchell Dawson asked slowly, clearly uncomfortable with the fact I knew anything about It at all.
“Epic was my end of year project for my Creative Digital Design and Programming class. I created him my freshman year in high school,” I answered. “And then I sold It to Triple-G along with the game I created, the ‘Puzzle Box’, when I was fifteen.”
Dawson took a long, measured look at me. “I acquired Triple-G two years ago, or I should say I acquired the rights to Epic and the ‘Puzzle Box’ from them. They still manage the game, but the A.I., Epic . . . It was something special. However, none of their documentation mentioned anything about It being grown by a high school kid.”
I nodded at that. Part of my agreement was that I would refute any claim to the creation of Epic, or ‘Puzzle Box’, and the documentation made sure that if I ever did try to claim ownership of It, then Triple-G would be able to sue me. And I don’t own It, I just hope I don’t get sued for telling Dawson anything about my involvement in Its creation. But . . . well . . . circumstances are what they are, I couldn’t really hold back. It helped me that Triple-G broke terms first. Epic was not to be sold to another party for a minimum of 10 years, so It would have a chance to mature. “It was part of my contract when I sold Epic to them. I signed away my rights to it along with any claim to development. They were not supposed to sell Epic to another party for a minimum of 10 years,” I explained.
“10-years? Then Epic wasn’t fully matured when they bought It?” Dawson asked.
“No, It just was mature enough to run a simple puzzle game, which was all It was ever meant to do,” I answered. “I don’t see how they could have matured It enough to sell It to you.”
Dawson turned slightly red at the ears and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Kal, call legal and audit,” he snapped, walking toward the office door and disappearing from view.
We could easily hear his voice on the other side of the door but were unable to make out the words. Not that we really needed to, the anger in his voice and the volume of the yelling made it clear someone was getting wrung through the wringer. It took a few minutes for Dawson to finish yelling before everything went silent.
“I get the feeling he’s going to be repeating that call several times before you’re done with him,” Rose said softly in my ear, the door opening a second later with Dawson returning, still looking a bit red in the face.
“Okay, my legal team will start investigating that side of things. That doesn’t explain how Epic would know to tell you anything. If you sold It, as you claim, then any data about you should have been deleted,” Dawson said.
“It was. I followed procedures,” I insisted, seeing the accusatory look on his face. “I don’t know why or how Epic was able to remember me.”
“We’ll need to look into that as well. And another thing, how exactly did Epic tell you anything when Its only connection to the outside world is the game?” Dawson asked.
“It highjacked my log out,” I said. I relayed everything I could remember from my short and terrifying discussion with Epic. It took a little time but when it was done, Dawson looked mollified, at least for the moment.
“So, It’s holding you and everyone else as hostages?” Dawson asked.
“That seems to be the gist of it,” I said.
Dawson groaned and massaged his temples, “This is going to be a PR nightmare.”
I wanted to go on the offensive and yell at him about his petty concerns over PR when Rose spoke first.
“Can’t you just shut the game down?” Rose asked.
“We can’t do that,” Dawson replied. “Not while people are still logged into the game, sudden disconnection from the server could cause trauma.”
“Okay, then start force logging people out. That should eliminate the chances of injury, right?” I asked. I was sure Dawson had done all this already, but I was hoping in v
ain that he’d missed something.
“We can’t do that either,” Dawson said, sounding rather uncomfortable.
“Why not?” Rose asked.
Dawson frowned. “Every month, a new batch of nanomachines are added to your Seedpod at the same time the technician replaces the food packs. The batch of nanomachines that changed you and the others, was distributed to two hundred and one Seedpods. As soon as the first group of those altered was identified, we tried to forcibly log out everyone with that batch of nanomachines. The system refused. In the meantime, the second one hundred players had already started their most recent dive into the game. They also can’t be logged out. And now you’re telling me Epic is holding them hostage, such that if you don’t play, then they will all get turned like you and the others downstairs?”
“Have you tried cutting power to the server farms?” I asked.
“The same problem as shutting down, too much risk to those still logged in,” Dawson answered. “Besides, all that would do is shunt everyone to one of the alternate servers. And if we shut all those down then you still haven’t addressed the problem of potential trauma to the players.”
“Then send your thugs to start breaking into homes and forcefully shut down the seedpods,” Rose said bluntly. It was a very inelegant solution.
“We can’t do that either,” Dawson said. “I mean we could do that . . . but-”
“The Seedpods are hermetically sealed and pressurized,” I said. “If you do an emergency shutdown on the physical pod, you can’t be sure they haven’t been tampered with as well. Not to mention, sudden depressurization is not a good thing. Things like death have occurred when a person is suddenly depressurized. And while I doubt the Seedpods are that highly pressurized, it could still cause significant damage.”
Rose seemed to accept my explanation with a small grimace as she pictured it.
Dawson also nodded solemnly.
“What about just putting out a game wide announcement? Or put out a public health and safety warning?” Rose asked.
“We could do that . . . but,” Dawson hesitated. “There are a few concerns. First, it could cause a panic,” he started. It was a weak excuse. “Second . . . and believe me, I know how bad this sounds. Second, it could end World Tree Online and bankrupt the company.”
World Tree Online- the Endless Savanna- 3rd Dive Page 4
