The operations room is where the Outfit briefed and geared up before going into the sewers and then out to hunt. On the other side opposite the sewer gates was a small room that held the electrical panel that controlled power to the bunker as well as for the string of UV lights illuminating their shelter and strung through the large concrete tubes.
What none of the new occupants had yet to discover was the access corridor with a ladder above the electrical panel room leading up to the walled enclosure holding two generators and a large fuel tank on top of the two-story former printing facility. Those generators were on the first level of a five-story parking garage that rose above the building nestled in front of some railway tracks and in-between two eighty-story buildings, one of which was a large publisher that had produced dozens of different magazines every month. The parking structure and printing facility attached to the skyscrapers were long since blocked by the Crewmen who had cleared the printing plant of any DEVO’s while using the parking structure above for their rigs.
Clayton and his boys had filled the elevator shafts and stairs to the basement with concrete and rebar to keep the creatures as well as other Outfits out. The only way into the basement bunker was via the sewer or from the access corridor to the generators, two stories above.
UV lights to keep the DEVO’s away ringed the area but wouldn’t come on during the day. If they did, they would have no effect on the individual who had just climbed into the parking structure from the train track side and made his way to the wrought iron gate.
Haus inserted his key, one at a time into each of the three dead bolt locks, unlocking each. The Day Breakers hadn’t yet learned the full layout of the bunker system and didn’t know about the access corridor or the gate to the generators, leaving both unguarded. Not that a guard would have deterred Haus.
He stepped through the large gate, leaving it open and unlocked. Haus cut the electrical lines to the external UV lights before crouching down, placing his key into the double lock of the hatch that could be opened from either side leading down to the electrical room.
He quietly lifted the steel hatch then stepped onto the ladder bolted to the wall. This building, like any multistory structure, had a narrow space through which pipes, air shafts and electrical wiring traveled. The Crewmen used it to access the generators if they needed to from inside the bunker, the only safe way to do so during the night.
Now Haus was using it to enter the heart of the bunker. He had spent a lot of time and energy securing and customizing the Crewmen’s HQ, and he wasn’t about to let Graybeard be the recipient of all that effort.
Haus wasn’t going let the DEVO’s have all the fun. He was going to extract a little payback while hoping that the Day Breaker’s occupying his former home did not discover the breach until it was too late. Haus, observing from afar noted that Graybeard and his crew seemed preoccupied watching and chasing an infiltration rig moving through the downtown sector and weren’t likely to be back before late afternoon. In the event they came back sooner, or word passed alerting Graybeard, he planned on doing a few things that would make that information moot.
Haus quietly climbed down the steel ladder with the CAR-50 strapped over his back so as not to bang it against the rungs. The helmet and tac vest, he took from the dead infiltration trooper earlier made him look more like an INFIL-rat himself than the new boss of the Crewmen, or what was left of them. Part of him wanted the Day Breakers he was about to kill to recognize him, at least before they died. But it was more efficient to use the high-tech equipment, especially when the lights went out.
Stepping quietly to the floor of the small room, illuminated only by the flickering lights of the panels, he flipped his weapon up. After a second or two, he spotted the lever he was looking for even without a flashlight. He gained a new appreciation for the fancy gear. Particularly the integrated mask with the built-in night vision that made everything in his field of view look like daylight. Crucial since the room, along with the entire bunker and sewers, went pitch black after he killed the power from the generators.
The sounds of men and women cursing along with footsteps and things being knocked over carried into the small room through the double steel doors. Haus pushed the left door open, then closed it behind him. He moved to the gates leading into the sewers. It would take a half minute or maybe longer for the new occupants to locate flashlights, or night vision and make their way to the electrical panel; unfamiliar with the bunker they would be disoriented and slower to react.
Haus unlocked both gates and stepped out into the sewer. Taking up position behind a concrete wall he peered back into the operations room. It took a minute before the flashlight beams moving this way and that registered like a beacon in his night vision, announcing their arrival long before the Outfitter waving it around actually showed up. They were doing pretty much what he expected them to do. Batteries for the night vision were in short supply in the zone. The night vision that most of the Outfits used, older generations, to begin with, were used sparingly. Also as DEVO’s were currently the biggest threat, lights would push them back, unlike night vision that only would help you see them.
Haus waited for the half dozen or so flooding into the operations area to get closer. They spread out, looking for the doors to the electrical room. The Day Breakers had been shown where the room was, but not much more by the surviving Crewmen who had joined them. They assured them that it was a redundant system that never gave them any issues. If one generator failed, the second one would quickly come online. Meanwhile, a UPS or Uninterruptible Power Supply, a standby battery system would continue to provide the all-important UV lighting. None of them were familiar enough with the system to realize that the generators could be decoupled at the electrical panel. Even though the generator hummed along up on top, no power, UPS or otherwise went beyond that panel. Haus figured that even the stupidest one would eventually try that lever, but he wasn’t going to give them a chance.
***
“Daylight’s burning, Graybeard. If you want me to go get that gold you need to move out of my way.”
“I thought my Outfit and I would accompany you.”
Andy looked around at the ragtag bunch. They were day-fighters. They didn’t have the equipment, weapons or know-how to go into the dark recesses of the buildings. To the extent they did, they relied on flares and lights. Those systems only got them in so far and had a limited life once activated. They liked to hit the soft targets where they were not in too deep, and daylight was no more than a few rooms away, if that.
Deep penetration infiltrators like Andy and the Voracious Soldiers were skilled at moving deep into darkened structures. They used flares and lights sparingly, instead relying on their night vision and stealth movement. Sneaking past the DEVO’s rather than confronting them directly.
These de-evolved humans were believed to exist in a state of catatonia always. During the day, DEVO’s went into what was thought to be a catatonic stupor. Their motor activity reduced to zero; they became mute and rigid. During that time, they engaged in no social behaviors or other actions.
At night, or when awakened they went into a state of Catatonic Excitement. The DEVO’s became extremely hyperactive even though the activity they engaged in appeared to have no purpose, at least individually. As part of a group, it acted with a singular goal, especially when hunting.
DEVO’s in a catatonic stupor midday were not easily roused. Any light source would do that as would noises above a decibel level of 75 or so, about the sound of a vacuum cleaner. Teams could move close to them or by them walking quietly and using no light.
Doing so took experience, equipment, and nerves of steel. It was evident that Graybeard’s crew lacked most all of those attributes.
Andy squinted at the assembled group near Graybeard. “You people all have night vision? We don’t use lights or flares until we must, and then it’s to escape. Where we’re going, we will be all operating under our NOD’s,” Andy used the abbrevi
ation for Night Observation Device.
The Day Breakers gawked at each other.
“We have some, infiltration-man.” One snickered.
“Everyone going in needs them, and they need to be able to work with them 100% of the time, and you’ll need batteries or spares that are good for at least a couple hours. You’ll also need hushed comms, not the walkie-talkies you have clipped to your belts.”
The group continued to grumble and shake their heads in uncertainty.
“Where we’re going is deep and dark. The kind of places the DEVO’s like to keep their lairs.” Andy added.
“I understood from our mutual friend that this is a penthouse. He and the other unfortunate one stayed near the windows, stringing lights into the stairwell. You wouldn’t be saying all this to keep us out of the fun, now would you?” Graybeard narrowed his eyes.
“We’re not going that way. The gold isn’t in the penthouse; it’s deep underground. Going from the penthouse access will take all day. We’re going direct, without lights or flares. If you can’t work like that all you’re going to do is slow us down at the least or be a feast for the DEVO’s at the worst. Either way, I need to get moving.”
Andy backed up to the driver’s door of the Humvee. “We’re headed to One Heritage Square, not to the penthouse but the basement under the Galleria with all of the underground shops. Now you know where the vault is Graybeard.”
“The Galleria is DEVO’s central, boss.” A nervous young man interjected.
“Shut the fuck up, slick.”
“Lead the way, Mr. Crawley,” Graybeard added as he eye-fucked his nervous subordinate.
Chapter Forty
Mia gripped the bed, trying not to fall over as the RV bounced over the gravel road as Bowen sped through the RV park before entering onto a paved road. He had grown agitated since encountering the sheriff’s deputy and now seemed to be on a mission. She worried that the young man was becoming unhinged. He was still suffering from the beating she gave him. Aside from the discolored eyes and swollen crooked nose he could barely stand upright, the pain in his lower abdomen still quite acute.
“Where are we going?”
Bowen ignored her. He was tired of her shit and even more so was sick of being in the real world. When Haus recruited him, he painted an attractive picture of how they would take the fight directly to the infiltration teams, where they didn’t have an advantage in manpower, weapons, and equipment.
Both considered the RLD, or Real-Life Dimension, as fighting “behind the lines.” There they could dictate the terms and control events with a ruthlessness that would make any outlaw gangster proud. After they got the gold, they would live like kings in the Metaverse while being able to more than provide for their hardware and sustenance requirements to live in-world. Bowen who lived a hand to mouth existence after using up all his college loans existing in-world 24/7 was eager to sign on.
So far, all Bowen received was a broken nose, two black eyes, and smashed balls. Now he had been spotted by a cop that could identify him. Driving a stolen RV while Haus was taking the fight to Crawley in the zone, safe in a rented pod. From Bowen’s point of view, the whole plan was unraveling, and he was the one now hanging his neck out the most.
Bowen, unlike Haus, really needed this trophy. He was at his financial ends, and would soon be forced to return to the real world, at least part time to find a job.
Haus was in a better situation. New Zealand, where he lived, required firms in the Metaverse that did business in that country to employ a certain percentage of actual humans, most of whom worked in-world.
Haus told Bowen he did meaningless administrative tasks in the Metaverse. While he could be in-world 24/7, he couldn’t be in the Dead Zone as much as he wanted to be. The huge trophy would change all that. They could continue their adventures in the Dead Zone or pursue new ones elsewhere. Bowen and Lindel like so many others preferred life in the Metaverse to the real thing. Even a modest income in the real world garnered a decent standard of living in-world.
Real dollars converted to a sliding scale in M-dollars. The amount themselves did not change but rather what the currency could buy in the Metaverse did.
A normal existence with a charming furnished apartment, car, clothing and some expendable income was within everyone’s reach. Big ticket items, such as luxury homes, exotic vehicles, boats, yachts, and aircraft were considerably more expensive, lest everyone live like a billionaire in-world. The fact that all those things were digital was lost in the absolute reality of them. Coveting those items was the same here, as in the real world. If anything, the authenticity of digital life increased those desires.
Then there were the sims available through Digital Adventures. The ones that Bowen was so addicted. While they too were digital, they were not cheap. The simulations were incredibly elaborate and took a considerable amount of “real estate” in the Metaverse. That is, they needed to be housed and maintained and updated as the storyline progressed. Every single street, structure, building, room, hallway, basement and vehicle among trillions of other trivial things down to a speck of dirt had to be created down to the smallest detail then modeled to behave based on the dynamics of the environment in which they existed.
Those details, to lesser and greater degrees, existed most wherever you went, particularly in New Polis. But that was a functioning city with a population upward of 50 million humans and Artificial Entities. They paid rent, worked, played and created an entire social and economic system.
Sims like the Dead Zone required the same amount of effort but existed with no real commerce or rent. If a window shattered, the glass had to be fragmented to the floor and remain there until otherwise disturbed, say by the boot of an adventurer walking across it.
Every bullet fired had a physical impact modeled on the type of surface it struck, the mass and the velocity of the round and the distance it traveled before striking something. Every vehicle that hit something had to reflect the dent and scratches garnered during the event. Even the dirt or dust had to be accounted for as it fell from debris or was blown off by the movement of a vehicle, right down to the individual grains. These were but a few of the trillions of calculations and interactions that had to go on in a continuous dynamic function on a scale that only the fastest supercomputers could manage. It took enormous resources and was expensive. So intriguing were these high-priced simulations that companies developing and running them, like Digital Adventures, had waiting lists for many of their most popular environments.
Bowen wished he could have afforded to join an infiltration team, but his finances or lack thereof precluded that.
Consequently, he went the hacker route. “Rogue Adventurers” really did not have to do much hacking since Digital Adventures realized their value to the storyline.
The simulation company left phantom accounts hanging out there that individuals like Bowen and Lindel could assume. Even Digital Adventures did not know their identity nor did they care. It was all part of the world they were providing to their paying adventurers, and they had no trouble keeping the Outfits filled. Many like Lindel, would have no problem paying the fees chose to join the teams rather than the Outfits. The bad boy or girl image appealed to them, or they disliked the military hierarchy, uniforms and mandatory training of the teams. Others just relished in joining an adventure for free that cost others a significant sum.
The downside for the rogues being that they did not get the great equipment and weapons available to the teams. They had to scrounge for everything from shelter to food to weapons and the ammo to feed them. Fortunately, the Dead Zone never failed to provide, but always in a realistic way related to the storyline.
Encompassing suburbs and the mega city of Jotunheim, an area with over 35 million residents when the virus hit, the DZ had all the resources to support such a population many times over since it was also a major shipping hub. For the several dozens of rogues who existed in it, there was plenty of supplies to be had.
<
br /> Or if you were good at gathering trophies you could barter for more powerful weapons with black market arms dealers. That’s how Haus had acquired those powerful AT-4’s.
Had Keith, AKA the late Christopher Harvey never utilized the insider information to locate the gold then the struggles would have continued as they had. Maybe one of the Outfits or teams would have discovered it and maybe not. Either way, they would have continued to battle each other and the DEVO’s while hunting the still substantial numbers of trophies remaining or just salvaging equipment and property onto the black market in exchange for funds.
Now a new element existed. By taking the battle directly to the INFIL-rats the Outfitters continued the fight in a different dimension.
To them it was no less, or more real than what they did in the zone daily. The lines of reality had faded from their perceptions.
***
Deputy Jonah Styles stared at his tablet at the information he just received from the FBI agents. His eyes narrowing to a picture of an RV with Arizona license plates caught from a highway overpass. Facial recognition on the occupants was a skip, meaning either they were not viewable or no match from the various databases came up related to the image, or they used disguises.
“Agent Calum, I just left a campsite where this RV was parked, even talked to one of the occupants, he looked like he had been on the losing end of a fistfight.”
“Where?”
“A few miles out of town.”
Calum looked at Wu. Out of the handful of RV’s they had identified that drove up from or through the Phoenix area it was now the only one that the whereabouts were known, which made it their only current lead.
“Take us there. Let’s go talk to them and cross them off our list, if nothing else.” Calum said.
Wu and Calum jumped into one of the Bureau sedans as Deputy Styles got in his. Five seconds later they raced out of the high school parking lot.
METAVERSE GAMES: OMNIBUS Page 27
