by Terry Schott
Chapter 12
We modelled the Game world after our own planet, Tygon. Our goal was to make Earth an exact reflection of Tygon, and we succeeded perfectly. The sheer volume of operations required to simulate an identical virtual existence to our authentic one called for a powerful supercomputer to be designed. We named this supercomputer Mainframe. Mainframe was responsible for everything, minor and major, in the creation and maintenance of Earth. It took us years to program fully. Even now, we daily employ Game Masters and an army of technicians to keep it functioning optimally. Something curious happened very soon after the Game began. Players inside the Game somehow seemed to recognize the influence and presence of the Mainframe. Although not able to see Mainframe, they began to sense its influence. Earth citizens called it ‘God’ and worshiped it in many different ways, depending on their specific cultures. At first we were concerned that this would interfere with the Gamers’ experiences, but the religions and activities centred around ‘God’ have provided us with fantastic story lines, technological developments, and learning opportunities. Without ‘God’ I’m certain the Game wouldn’t be as popular to watch and play as it is today.
Excerpt from “Religion in the Game”
Alex received very little fanfare during the time leading up to her Game entry. Lilith had said to expect a storm of reporters and interview requests, but none came. Despite the news feeds, fan sites buzzing with speculation and ideas about what Alex being awarded a free play meant, she spent a very quiet few weeks leading up to the day of her entry.
Lilith had been curious, so she started to personally contact people to initiate interviews on Alex’s behalf.
“Someone very powerful is blocking us,” she said.
“Why would they do that?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know, but it’s true,” Lilith said. “The last three inquiries I made face to face conveyed the message very clearly. They all looked sick at the idea of not interviewing you, but even more frightened at the possibility of actually sitting down to talk. This is a terrible shame. We could have generated so much interest! I assured them you wouldn’t talk about where you’ve been. I suggested we mention the possibility of you spending credits to be with Zack in the Game. I tried enticing them in every way possible, kiddo, but no one will come near you.”
Alex shrugged. “Thanks for trying, Lilith, but I don’t think it matters anyway. I’m glad I don’t have to speak to anyone, I don’t know if I could be silent about what I’ve seen. My fan base doesn’t seem to have been hurt by the lack of attention, though. It might have even helped. Have you seen my numbers today?”
Lilith nodded excitedly, picking up a tablet to scan recent figures. Alex was right; her popularity was skyrocketing. “Maybe you’re right, Alex. The only search term more popular than your name is Zack’s.”
“When’s he going in?” Alex tried to pretend that she didn’t care, but she did. She’d hoped to hear from him when she came back into the spotlight, but she hadn’t. Not even a whisper. Her brain told her that was fine and she should wish him well in his play, but her heart was broken by the continued rejection. She thought they had been special together, but apparently she was the only one who felt that way.
“He went in two days ago,” Lilith said. “Are you not watching the feeds at all?”
His avatar will be slightly older than mine, she thought to herself. Shaking her head to get Zack out of her mind, she answered Lilith’s question. “I’ve had no time to watch feeds about Zack. I had to spend my credits all by myself for this play. The Mainframe invited me back in, but it didn’t provide a wealth of money to spend on playing.”
Lilith smiled in sympathy. “Trust in the God, my girl.”
Alex chuckled at the reference. People were starting to proclaim that Tygon had its own God, similar but more powerful than Earth’s. Intelligent people had agreed decades ago that no such creature existed, but despite that, the phrase was growing more popular with Game fans everywhere. “I guess I should trust in the God of Earth, at least. I have no idea why it raised me so high in the Game, then kicked me out so horribly. Now it invites me back in? None of it makes sense.”
“Don’t start believing the Mainframe had anything to do with your fate, Alex.” Lilith said. “You know the Mainframe is just a computer that creates and maintains a virtual universe. It’s not an intelligent, self-aware creature. It’s no different than this computer console in front of me; it just has a much larger memory and processing speed.”
“Mainframe has an AI chip, too, Lilith,” Alex said.
“Yes, but that technology is still very limited and simple. A small amount of artificial intelligence to allow it to process its tasks quicker. That’s it, Alex. No one has made a significant advance in AI technology.”
“Brandon Strayne might have,” Alex argued. “He made virtual reality seem simple. Maybe he’s succeeded with artificial intelligence as well.”
“It’s illegal to even try,” Lilith said. “Now let’s stop wasting precious time on a silly topic. Are you ready to play? You go in tomorrow. How did you decide to spend your credits?”
Alex knew how much guilt Lilith felt from advising her on the last play, so this time, Alex had told everyone that she would assume sole responsibility for how her credits were spent. It was a challenge, though.
“Are you sure you want to know?” Alex asked. “You might not like what I’ve done.”
“Nonsense, Alex. I support your strategy, whatever it is.”
“Okay, then.” Alex handed Lilith the computer tablet with her selections listed on it. “Tell me what you think.”
Lilith looked at the tablet, then back to Alex. “Where’s the rest? I can’t get it to scroll to the next page.”
“That’s it. There is no next page.”
Lilith closed her eyes slowly. Taking deep breaths she remained silent for a full thirty seconds. “I already told you, Alex. If you fail out of the Game again I can’t protect you like last time.”
“I understand.” Alex said. “I’m not asking you to. This strategy will work.”
“Well, I don’t understand it. Please explain it to me.”
“I have limited credits, so I spent a long time looking at all the power ups and scenarios and interactions that I could purchase. I saw a couple of mistakes in the price lists.”
“What mistakes?” Lilith asked.
“A few of the more expensive choices were very, very cheap on my price list. I looked them up on the world system, and sure enough, they were high end purchases, but for some reason they were very inexpensive for me to purchase.”
“Strange…”Lilith said.
“Or a sign,” Alex said. “So I spent my credits on them. All of my credits. Before you say anything, you know how many credits I was given. There was no way to be conservative and hope for another play if this one fails. My free play is exactly that, it seems. One free play. So I’ve kept it simple. I’ve spent all my credits in very limited areas.”
“List them off for me, please,” Lilith requested.
Alex ticked them off on her fingers. “Health, Longevity, Focus.”
“Health and longevity I understand. I can’t believe the Mainframe will give you what you purchased,” Lilith said. “Focus is an elite and expensive attribute. Only the very wealthy Gamers can buy it, and when they do, it’s often a wasted purchase because their avatars never seem to use it well.”
“I’ve studied that. I think it’s because they purchase Focus, yet try to use it on too many things in their lives.”
“Focusing on too many things destroys Focus. Now that you mention it, I think you’re right. Describing it like that makes it seem silly, as if they are clearly not using Focus the correct way at all.”
“Well, I spent a lot on Focus, Lilith, and I’m going to focus on just one thing when I’m playing.”
“What’s that?” Lilith asked.
Alex smiled slyly. “That it’s all a game.”
Lilith laughed. “There’s no way that will ever work. Even if it does, what can that get you?”
“I don’t know. But I had a long time to look at my career as a gamer, and I keep having one overwhelming thought. I think I’m a prodigy.”
In the old days of public school, students would often gravitate towards certain subjects. Some would be better at math, others at science, others at art, and so forth. Over time, this would lead to students learning more about their favourite subjects, and they would go on to study or work in the fields of their interests.
The same was true of the Game. Players would live incarnations and score higher in certain areas of play. On their next plays, they might focus more on their favourite aspects or ‘subjects,’ which would result in them earning even more credits and higher standing. In some cases, the most focused and very best players would be able to earn Prodigy status over time. A famous player named Owen Brahlie was a popular example. Owen soon realized that he excelled at music and decided to focus on this area of the Game. Each time he played a new incarnation, He spent a large amount of his available credits in musical talent for his avatars. Each time he played, his new avatar would become more talented in music earlier in its life. Eventually, Owen had enough credits to purchase Prodigy status. On one of his final plays, his avatar was a person named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. As Mozart, Owen manifested his talents at the tender age of six, and went on to change the course of musical history on Earth. His play as Mozart earned Owen enough credits to retire from the Game as a very wealthy individual, and he continued to bring his ‘lives’ of experience to his career on Tygon. Everyone in the world could sing you at least a dozen Owen Brahlie musical hits. Some players today still named their avatars after Owen, as an homage to their hero. His daughter was a popular player on the scene today who chose singing on Earth as her focus.
“What are you a prodigy in?” Lilith asked. “You’ve never shown any aptitude for the arts, or math, or science?”
“I know. I think I’m a prodigy at the Game itself. Risking it all and winning. I believe my skills are at playing games… and winning against all odds.”
Lilith snorted. “Sorry to disagree, kiddo, but you didn’t exactly win on your last play.”
“One time I lost,” Alex agreed, “But, Lilith, you have to admit, I used to play very aggressively. I would spend more credits than you ever recommended. I recall coming out of a play and you telling me how lucky I was that I wasn’t ruined. My rise in the standings wasn’t overnight, but I didn’t buy my way to the top or have a one-time stroke of luck. I played well each and every time.”
“Very true,” Lilith admitted.
“And I don’t think I really lost on my last play.” Alex said. “I think the Mainframe is an intelligent being, and took me out of the Game on purpose.”
“Even if that was true, why would it do something like that?” Lilith asked.
“Well, I go back to Earth tomorrow,” Alex answered. “If it is true, I’m sure we’re going to find out.”
