End Code

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  01110101

  Within one hour of the announcement, the streets of NextWorld become a war zone. DgS officers march across every domain, hands glowing blue, systematically deleting every Digital-Character in every site. There are actually some PCs that try to defend them, hiding them in password locked sites or chat rooms, but this doesn't last. DOTgov eventually opens them, deleting the Digital-Characters and arresting the Player-Characters for obstruction of justice.

  Only the hackers are able to postpone what's inevitable. We create hidden chat rooms deep within DOTnet. Sites that don't exist on any index. We bring as many Level Zeros as we can to these secret rooms, but we've already lost too many. And we all know the truth: Eventually they will all be found.

  Grael doesn't let this reality slow him down. He insists on going out, time after time, to locate and escort every Digital-Character that we saved from DangerWar 2, back to the safety of our secret sites, where they might exist for a few more days. When I see the panicked look in his eyes, I agree to partner with him, hoping I can ground his actions when his heart gets the best of him.

  Before we leave on yet another run, Fantom jogs up to us, gesturing to open an inventory screen.

  She reaches inside and says, “Here. Take this.”

  She tosses a semiautomatic pistol to Grael. He awkwardly catches it and turns it over in his hand, inspecting both sides.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I ask.

  “Sure is. Worlok and I have been working on it. It works like any denial of service weapon we've been usin', but with some creative workarounds, we figured out how to keep the bullet as an extension to your account. When the bullet hits, it's as if you reached out and touched their avatar. Gives you the same access to their account.”

  Grael's face scrunches up with confusion as he mumbles, “I think I understand.”

  “Don't worry. You don't have to understand the code to run the program. It works like a video game. Point and shoot. You two should know how to do that.”

  I smile and say, “It's amazing, Fantom. Seriously. Genius level stuff.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she says with a wink before reaching in the inventory screen and grabbing another one. “Here. I modified this one for you.”

  She tosses me a pistol and when it lands in my hand, I see the design of an old west revolver, like I used to use in DangerWar 2.

  I say, “Thank you, Fantom,” but she's already walking away like what she did is no big deal.

  “Come on,” Grael says, motioning toward the door. “We're on a timetable here.”

  I follow him out and we travel through the sewers of DOTnet until we reach a service entrance to the DOTcom domain. After a long crawl up a ladder, we lift the security hatch and crawl into an alleyway between two stores.

  “There's one hiding a couple blocks away,” Grael says as he opens a map screen in front of him that displays the location of everyone on his friend list, which now includes every DC he created.

  I can see the urgency in his eyes as we dash across the street, dodging between a few random vehicles and ducking into another alley. He's ready to keep running, but I grab onto his shoulder.

  “It's okay. Slow down. We need to be methodical about this.”

  He yanks his shoulder from my grip and in between gasps of air he says, “You don't understand.”

  I grab onto his shoulder again and say, “Actually? Yeah. I do.”

  He looks into my eyes and sees the seriousness staring back at him. He takes a few breaths and lets the truth settle in. With a wave of his hand he lets me take the lead.

  “They're the only thing I've ever created that's worthwhile,” he says as I peek out from the corner of an alleyway between two stores in DOTcom. “They're the only thing that matters to me anymore. If I lose them...”

  “Don't talk like that,” I say, watching a group of DgS officers cross the intersection a block away. “We'll figure out something. Fantom and the rest of Sektor are already brainstorming some kind of plan. We didn't get this far to give up now.”

  “You might be the only person who can come close to understanding how it feels for me to have these Digital-Characters taken from me,” Grael says as he leans against the brick wall of the DOTcom site that borders the alley. “But your love for Cyren is different from the love I have for my creations.”

  “The love of a parent,” I say with a smile, letting him know that not only do I understand, but I accept it without judgment.

  “Did I ever tell you that I used to be in a partnership? It only lasted a couple years, but...”

  I'm confused by the topic change, but Cyren has taught me this usually means someone wants you to question them more, so I ask, “What happened?”

  “I'm not sure we ever really loved each other. I think we were partnering for the legality of it. Because that was the only way to get a bigger tower room... and the only way to get a child. So when I was denied the child license, she left.”

  He's staring at the ground, lost in his memories.

  “A parent. That's all I ever wanted to be. When I was a game designer, making worlds for kids like you to run around in... it helped me feel a little closer to being a parent. Every child that played my game felt like...” He rubs his face. “It felt like I played some kind of role in making your life a little more fun.”

  “You did more than that. You made my life tolerable. You gave me somewhere that I felt I belonged. When I was a kid? If I didn't have those worlds to escape into? I'm not sure how I would have survived.”

  He smiles and says, “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  I hear a DgS vehicle rumble past the adjoining block and say, “Come on. They're almost here.”

  Before the next wave of officers arrive, we hustle across the street and step up to the entrance of a high-end site that sells hairstyles to some of the wealthiest PCs. As soon as we enter, we're greeted by a Digital-Character whose purple hair is decorated with beads and trinkets woven into her extremely long locks. They drag behind her like the train of a dress.

  “Greetings! And welcome to Saint Salon, where your hair will rise above the rest. I'm sorry to tell you that we are closed today in preparation for our stylists' government-approved deletions, but we hope to reopen as soon as we're able to purchase new government-approved NPCs. We hope to see you back here soon, and if you'd like to join our mailing list-”

  Grael steps around her and continues deeper into the salon. I follow him past the styling chairs, each one with a stylist that stands at attention next to it, waiting for deletion. When we reach the back of the salon, he opens a window that's designed to appear like it's looking out over a small pond, but when he lifts the pane of glass, the image lifts with it. On the other side is a tiny, hidden storage room. Cowering on the floor, I see a civilian from DangerWar 2. She's dressed like a librarian, her tiny glasses sitting on the tip of her nose attached to a beaded chain that hangs around her neck.

  Grael holds out his hand and says, “Don't worry. I'm here to rescue you.”

  The librarian's eyes blink a couple times as it registers what he's saying, then reaches up and accepts his hand. We both help her out of the window and lead her toward the front of the salon. The purple-haired hostess is still apologizing to us for being closed and repeatedly asking us to join the mailing list.

  When we reach the front door, we peer out the glass and see a DgS vehicle hover and stop right in front of the salon. Officers unload from the back, their hands glowing blue.

  Grael produces the pistol from his inventory and places his hand on the front door, ready for battle. I quickly grab onto his shoulder and pull him back. When he rips his shoulder free from my grasp, I hold up both hands to show him I mean no harm.

  “Just wait,” I say in the calmest voice I can find.

  He's breathing heavy, the panic of losing another of his children overwhelming him. I point toward the door and we watch as the officers march into the site across the street. We quic
kly duck out of the salon and Grael summons his vehicle, a long stretch limousine with two rockets mounted on the side. We climb into the back and lift off into the air before the DgS finish deleting whatever NPCs were in the other site.

  “See? No need to fight if we don't have to.”

  Grael's breathing slows and he places his gun back into his inventory. “Thank you.”

  I'm ready to place my head back onto the leather seat and try to relax for the rest of the ride when I hear the librarian crying. I glance over and see Grael already trying to console her.

  “It's okay,” he says. “You're safe now.”

  She shakes her head and says, “I'm not crying for myself. I'm crying for them.”

  “Who?”

  “The Digital-Characters. The ones being deleted while I ran away.”

  “There's nothing we could do. We had to save you. You're... important.”

  Her face falls into the palms of her hands. “I don't care if they're different. I don't care if they aren't aware of their sentience. We all deserve the right to exist.”

  Grael hugs her. I want to argue with her. I want to remind her how special she is. But she's right. DOTgov has no right to delete anything. They're wiping them from existence. This isn't a war. This is genocide. But if that's true... then maybe it's time we started a war.

  01110110

  When Fantom and Worlok contact me in my chat room, I'm almost scared to accept their request to enter. I'm sure it's more bad news. Another of our secret sites located. Another group of Digital-Characters deleted. Another loss to DOTgov. But when I accept their request and they both appear in the loft apartment I still haven't finished, there's a smile on Worlok's normally faceless avatar.

  “Why do you look so happy?”

  “Because I got a plan. A plan that's going to change... everything.”

  Fantom rolls her eyes and says, “Murder ain't a plan, yo.”

  Cyren is shaken from her depressive state and stands up from the couch to say, “Murder?”

  Worlok crosses his arms, smugness radiating from his pose. “I'm going to save you. I'm going to save all of you. We're gonna put an end to all of this. DOTgov. Global President Chang. All of it.”

  “If you tell me that your plan is to murder Global President Chang...” I say, wanting to believe everything he's saying, yet skeptical of his bragging.

  Fantom steps away from him, separating herself physically from his idea. “That's exactly his plan, yo.”

  I let out a heavy sigh as my hope flutters away with my breath. “Come on, Worlok. We need a real plan. We need to think of something that's going to be a permanent fix.”

  “What's more permanent than the assassination of the man responsible for all our problems?”

  “You're talking nonsense. Even if I agreed with you, which I don't, there's no way any of us can sneak into Old China IRL and... do what? Choke him to death? Sorry, Worlok, but I think all that time in the mind prison may have done some damage to your brain.”

  Worlok stomps toward me so fast I think he's about to attack me. I ready my denial of service battleaxe, but he stops a foot away from me and shoves a finger in my face.

  “Kid, if you ever crack a joke about the mind prison again, I'll make sure you know exactly what it felt like to be inside.”

  I glance at Fantom, but she's not looking at me. I suddenly realize I may have gone too far.

  “Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. Really. But I still don't think this is a realistic plan.”

  Worlok pulls his finger back and says, “That's because you're not looking at things from multiple points of view. Let's face it. You're not the genius that I am.”

  Fantom lets out a single, “Ha!” before saying, “Genius? I think you might be takin' a little too much credit there. Your plan can't exist without my hack, yo.”

  Cyren pushes a long strand of blond hair from her face and says rather quietly, “I don't understand. How does hacking have anything to do with murder?”

  “It's the nanomachines, yo,” Fantom says, her voice growing dark. “He wants to use my hack to stop Chang's heart.”

  The fear that creeps up the back of my neck threatens to overwhelm me. I suck in a breath and push myself back into skepticism.

  “That's not possible... is it?”

  “Of course it is!” Worlok shouts with excitement.

  “In theory,” Fantom adds.

  “If Sektor works together, I'm sure we can figure out the logistics. You've already managed to break through the hard part. Now we need to find our way around the system.”

  Fantom shakes her head. “This is what I was worried about. When I first hacked my way in, and I saw what I was capable of accessin', I knew that it could be put to use in a way that would seriously threaten the safety of... everything.” Fantom glances at Worlok, then drops her gaze to the floor and speaks with a true sadness. “But I never thought it would be you that I had to worry about.” She clenches her fist. “Or maybe I did, yo. Maybe I just didn't want to believe it.”

  Worlok smacks his fist into the palm of his other hand. “But that's my point, Fantom. If we don't use it first, eventually someone else will figure it out. Someone else will use it against us. Maybe DOTgov. Maybe another hacker.” He points at Cyren and says, “Don't you want to save these things? Don't you want to use this hack for the greater good?”

  Fantom stays quiet for a moment before gazing up at me. I'm genuinely startled by the look in her eyes. She wants my opinion. She wants me to answer for her. She's looking to me for leadership. My mind races, trying to find a balance between logic and morality, but I get lost in the storm.

  “I don't know... I'm not comfortable making a decision like this.”

  “Why not?” Worlok asks. “I thought you were supposed to be the hero of DangerWar 2. The Game Master. Are you seriously not willing to make the hard choice in order to save your precious NPCs?”

  I sense Cyren flinch when he uses the word that offends her so much. I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it softly. I look into her eyes, but I'm talking directly to Worlok.

  “That's just it. It is a hard choice. One that not only effects the Digital-Characters, but literally everyone in NextWorld. If we introduce this... if we show the world the insecurity of NextWorld and the real world... if we completely dismantle DOTgov, I'm not sure what that means for the future.”

  Worlok throws his hands into the air and shouts, “It means freedom! It means liberty! It means the right to autonomy, and the ability to fight back against an oppressive ruler that wants to dictate our every move!”

  Fantom lets out a huff of air and says, “And once we've destroyed DOTgov and removed this leader, I'm guessin' you've got some ideas on who should take over, don't you?”

  Worlok shrugs and says, “You've got to admit, it'd be better than what we've got now.”

  “I'm not so sure, yo.”

  “Maybe you're right,” I say to Worlok. “But we can't make a decision like this by ourselves. I'm not a solo player anymore. I've surrounded myself with a circle of people that I trust. A group that balances each other. We need to gather everyone and talk about this. After we've weighed the consequences, we can have a vote and-”

  Worlok spits out a single curse word and says, “You realize that I'm only here out of courtesy. I appreciate your... help in freeing me, but I'm not asking for your approval. And I'm certainly not asking for your permission. This is me, letting you know that I'm about to save your friends for you. If you don't want to help, then I'll gladly accept your thanks when it's all over.”

  He gestures to open a log-out screen, but Fantom interrupts him. “You might not need his approval, but you can't do this alone, yo. You still need Sektor, and you still need me to show you how to hack the nanomachines.”

  Lips and teeth appear on his blank face, grinning deviously as he says, “Don't be so sure.”

  01110111

  “That's insane,” Xen says, leaning back in his chair as if he's al
ready given up on the debate.

  The rest of us sit around the circular wooden table in Sektor's chat room, rolling the idea around in our minds. Eyekon and Cyren sit on one side. Anna-Log and Fantom sit on another. Grael, Xen, and I sit on another. I invited Worlok, but there was no response. His silence worries me.

  “It's not like Worlok doesn't have a point,” Grael says. “This morning we lost another one of our hidden sites. Twenty-seven DCs were deleted.”

  Cyren and Eyekon glance at each other and share a moment of pain.

  Fantom leans forward, interlocking her fingers as she thinks out loud. “But the plan itself is flawed, yo. Even if we could succeed in attackin' the DOTgov domain, and we somehow located Global President Chang's avatar, and we managed to infect his nanomachines... would it solve anythin'? If we don't take down the entire domain, wouldn't another DOTgov employee take his place?”

  “Maybe,” Eyekon says. “But whoever took his place would fear us. They would know that they are no longer invincible, even in NextWorld.”

  Anna-Log adjusts the tiny crown on her head and says, “And we could always drop a logic bomb inside DOTgov. That could bring down the domain.”

  Fantom looks down at her, glaring at the little girl for suggesting something like that.

  Anna-Log shrugs her shoulders and says, “I'm just saying it's possible.”

  Xen speaks to me in a hushed tone. “You aren't seriously considering this, are you?”

  Before I can answer, Eyekon asks, “Do we have another choice? Does anyone have a different plan? Is there any other way that we don't end up deleted?”

  Cyren gently places her palms on the table and asks, “Is that enough for you to commit murder? To save yourself? Does that make it right?”

  “Yes? No? I don't know. Maybe,” Eyekon says, clearly flustered. “I just need to know if what we're talking about is the only option. Have we truly reached a point where it's us or them?”

  “Them? Who's 'them?' PCs? We're not the enemy,” Grael says with a pained expression, hurt by the notion.