by Dante Doom
“What’s that?” Van asked as he tilted his head back and felt wooziness come over him as the drugs continued to push him deeper into a state of relaxation.
“I’m gonna be better about it. I’m gonna respect you and I’m gonna start respecting myself. No more judging. No more frowning,” Sang said.
“And I’m not gonna chase after things anymore,” Van mumbled, half-asleep. “I’m gonna build me a life worth living, one brick at a time.”
“Yeah,” Sang said with a long heavy sigh. “One brick at a time.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Van shifted uncomfortably as he sat in front of the panel of three men. The room was relatively small, and it was cramped. A small lamp hung over everyone and it swung occasionally as the air conditioning kicked on and off. He had no idea where they were, but he knew it was an important meeting.
Sang was sitting next to him without making much of a sound. They had been given a few days of forced rest and nourishment, in which Van had never eaten so many green foods in his life, and then they’d quickly been shoved into a van and brought to some kind of warehouse. Sitting before them were three people, none of whom would tell Van their names, but they seemed important. Sang had just told Van to speak when spoken to and be polite, but that was about it. One of the men was wearing a military uniform, another was wearing a suit, and the third was wearing some kind of lab coat. It was like something out of a movie, but of course, Van’s life had been like something out of a movie for the last week anyway.
Sitting beside Van and Sang were Agents Neil and O’Hara. They were both very well dressed today, having had their uniforms pressed to perfection. Neil looked especially nervous, though, and kept glancing over at Van every few moments. Van had been coached earlier about what to say and what not to say by Neil, and there’d been far more threats than Van liked to hear. Still, he understood that the entire operation they were planning hinged on these individuals okaying the plan.
“These reports are… interesting,” the military guy said after what seemed to be an eternity. “We’re most grateful for your willingness to put your lives on the line for this kind of information. It’s not every day that you meet non-combat operatives who have this kind of bravery. We appreciate your hard work and your willingness to dive into the battle.”
“The lab tests were very conclusive on your physiology,” the scientist guy said, looking straight at Sang. “Your body was severely damaged and poisoned during your time of interacting with these pods, but now? Now you are completely healed. A miracle if I have ever seen one.”
“Ultimately,” the center-sitting, suit-wearing guy said, “this has proven to us beyond a reasonable doubt that there is indeed some sort of alien activity going on inside of that game. Your reports about the simulation being one used to somehow harness human talent for some kind of insurrection makes this more than a simple matter of interest also, and turns this entire situation into a national security issue. Our conversation with the White House has brought back the go-ahead to begin a taskforce to formally begin investigating this game. Yet, there are some problems. First and foremost, we’ve confirmed that there’s a setting, or something, that makes this simulation lethal. The CIA broke into the man you called Trefor’s home a few days ago, and discovered him dead within his pod. The attendants who were working there showed his medical records as being perfectly fine until a single moment when all of his vitals went flat. This confirms that Draco has some ability to manage the lethality of their systems, although judging from the fact that Van wasn’t immediately killed, it would appear they cannot simply remotely kill an individual.”
“The implications of such a thing are far-reaching,” the scientist said. “Mainly because it means that the people who we send into this mission will be people who are going to be putting their lives on the line.”
“And as such, we do not have the time nor the resources to gather more pods and gather more people immediately,” the military man said. “The reality is, we don’t know what we’re up against. We need more data.”
“And that, General, is why we are here,” Sang said confidently. She leaned up in her chair and placed her arms on the table. “The fact is that with the existence of these foreign beings confirmed, we must do everything in our power to collect information on them.”
“Information is vital beyond all other things,” Neil echoed. O’Hara nodded.
“There’s a lot of questions we just don’t know the answer to yet,” Sang continued. “Who are these things; what do they want? Why would they choose to invade Earth in this manner? How will they purge everything?”
“These questions are troubling,” the scientist said. “Yet, we have also read your proposal, and fear that it’s entirely unattached from reality.”
“Why’s that?” O’Hara asked.
“Because of the aforementioned lethality,” the general replied. Van grimaced. He’d known it would be a longshot to convince the higher-ups to approve the plan. “We simply cannot afford to lose agents due to a video game error.”
“That’s why we’ve got these two,” Neil said, waving to Sang and Van. “They’ve both volunteered to be our undercover agents, still collecting as much data as possible.”
“The sheer extent of psychological damage that she must have experienced from making contact hasn’t been evaluated,” the man in the middle said. “And I doubt that inexperienced agents will little real-world work experience would have what it takes for this kind of investigation work.”
“Hey, I’ve been playing this damn game for ten years,” Van said, leaning up and putting his hands on the table, trying to imitate Sang. “I can tell you that, without me, there’s little chance for success. Sang’s alive because of my exploitation of the game system. We have access to serious knowledge because of my ability to lead and fight in this game.”
“That’s all well and good, Mr. Van,” said the scientist. “But you’re forgetting the fact that you have no idea what you are up against. It would be in everyone’s best interests to choose to focus on some other method of investigation. Draco is a company, right? We must be able to locate them on the ground somewhere?”
“No,” Sang said, shaking her head. “They’re operating the entire game from their remote servers. The game world is their office. You can search high and low, but you’ll never find their actual physical office.”
“Sang’s right about that so far,” the general said, turning to face the other two. “Intelligence attempts to collect data from Draco have failed miserably for the last five years, and I doubt they will succeed now. It may be that the only way to crack this case is to get inside the game again.”
“You’re forgetting the fact that we don’t know what’s happening inside of her head,” the scientist said, aggressively pointing at Sang. “For all we know, exposure to the alien force has caused her mind to fracture. She could be insane and we’d never know it.”
“Whatever’s in my head, I don’t think I’m going to understand it without that Dragon,” Sang whispered as she stared blankly at the table. “We’ve got to go back in there.”
“It’s too risky!” the scientist declared, slamming his fist on the table. “Your request is denied.”
“Since when do you get to speak for the rest of us?” the suited man asked as he sharply turned to rebuke the scientist. “The White House put all three of us on this taskforce. Your vote only counts for one.”
“And what would you have them do? Would you allow them to march back in there and trapeze around? What if, the very moment they log in, Draco is waiting for them? What if, as soon as they connect, Draco kills them?”
“They’re grown adults,” O’Hara growled. “They’re perfectly fine with taking that risk. At the end of the day, we need to have people back in that world. These two are fully in the loop and they’ve survived some tough encounters. They’re the right kind of people.”
“They’re going to be the dead kind of people!” the
scientist shouted.
“Supposing we approved of your plan to send them back in undercover,” the general said. “How do you intend to implement that?”
“It’s simple,” Neil said as he unrolled a schematic of a building. Van could see dozens of placements for computers and medical stations.
“We take our current pods and rig them up. I’ve had some people look at them and we think we can amplify them somewhat. At the very least, we’re going to fix Sang’s pod and if we can’t do that, we’ll give it to Van.”
“Hey!” Van shouted. He quickly became quiet once O’Hara glared at him with a look that could have killed a small animal.
“Then we put them in a centralized location, somewhere safer than our crappy abandoned office. We get a full team of hackers there, no small-time operations anymore. You get me twelve people working around the clock as they monitor the situation, we’re going to be golden. We’ll throw a few other pods in there, too, begin some kind of evaluation program to see if we can find suitable assistants for our lead. You guys conduct your real world investigation at the same time, and we pipe information to you every single day. Nothing happens without the brass knowing what’s going on.”
“Hmmm,” the general said, quietly stroking his chin. “And should there be some sort of compromise? Should those supposedly friendly aliens turn out to be not so friendly? What then? Agent Sang is carrying a lot of information around in her head. If she turns out to be some kind of liability…”
“Relax, Sang is gonna be fine,” Neil said. “Look, we’ve got a concrete plan that will solve all of our problems at once. We can collect data, build up an intelligence network from the inside, and then, when the time is right, strike, toppling Draco.”
“You’re playing with fire,” the man in the middle said. “What if they catch wind of your scheme and decide to execute their plan to purge mankind early, hmm? What then?”
There was a heavy silence that fell across the room. Everyone nervously glanced at one another.
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” O’Hara said. “But that’s only if we give in to the idea that we can’t fight these things. When I joined this organization, I wasn’t super-interested in diplomacy, stealing plans, or doing covert work. I wanted to be part of a group that solved problems, likely with violence. Sir, these aliens are a big problem, but that’s okay because we have the solution. Our taskforce will do everything it takes to eliminate them. There might be blood spilt, but we’re going to make sure it’s far more of their blood lost than ours. We might lose these two people sitting here today, but if it will stop these aliens’ plans, then it’s worth it, and they agree. This is a new kind of war, and we intend to win it.”
“Damn straight!” Van said.
“She’s right,” Sang replied, standing up. “I’m going in, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. If I have to go buy some gloves and a console, I’ll do it. But there’s nothing you can do to prevent us from going back in. So you might as well give us what we need.”
“We could have you locked up for treason,” the scientist said, leaning back in his chair. “And interference with an official investigation.”
“No one’s locking anyone up,” the general said. “Fine, fine. I approve this plan. You have the White House’s approval.”
“The NSA will also back you up,” the man in the suit said as he yawned. “We have half a dozen people’s names on our list already. Pro gamers who are probably just waiting for the opportunity for an interview.”
“Well, I oppose this mission entirely,” the scientist said, “but I must defer to my comrades. NASA will support you.”
“What can NASA do?” Van asked. This drew a blank stare from the scientist.
“Sir, we are the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. We have the right to discuss and investigate any extraterrestrial encounters.”
“Oh right, right. I guess that makes sense,” Van said, wondering if he’d have a chance to meet a real astronaut.
“Good. Then we’re greenlighting this project. What was it you called it again?” asked the general.
Neil sighed. “Operation Flaming Tortoise, sir.”
“Guess who picked that name?” Van proudly asked, pointing to himself.
“Very well, Operation Flaming Tortoise is a go,” the general said with a smirk. “We’ll get your base of operations set up in a few weeks.”
“I want my people inspecting every inch of those pods,” the NASA scientist said as he stood up. “And you need a full psyche evaluation before you can get back in them.”
“Fine, whatever,” Sang said. “I’ll do whatever you guys want; just get me back in that game.”
Neil grinned at O’Hara, as everyone stood up to discuss some immediate logistics before breaking up. Van glanced at the schematics for the command center. He felt his heart swelling with pride as he realized that, all his life, he had wanted to be a professional gamer, and now, in a weird way, he was. He would have the chance to use his talents, skills, and abilities to do something that truly mattered. His official job title would be Extraterrestrial Investigator, and that was a glorious thing.
Sang slowly opened her eyes to see the bright blue sky as the door to her cab opened up.
“We’re here, ma’am,” the cabbie said as he pulled her luggage out and offered her his hand. She took it and pulled herself out of the car. She had been sleeping on her way to the airport and her dreams were growing more complex. They had been confusing and terrifying at first, but she’d begun to realize that a message was starting to form. Every few nights, she’d be able to get some kind of new word or concept, but it was a slow process. Whatever the Others had done to her brain, the language wasn’t easily translated to the human mind.
The psychotherapy had gone about as well as she’d expected. They’d done a bunch of tests, asked her several questions about her mood, and locked her in a sensory deprivation chamber for a few hours to see what would happen, but there hadn’t been much to it all. She’d shown no evidences of being off her rocker. They’d signed a release and cleared her to go into the pods.
The team would take some time before they were ready, however, and so she’d made a push to get some vacation time. As soon as the last presentation on her health had been over and the brass had cleared the final plan to go back into the game, she’d been cleared to buy a ticket to Asturias and told that she had four weeks of leave.
Sang smiled as she felt the warm air around her. Her flight would be leaving in a few hours and she couldn’t wait to fly halfway across the world and enjoy some peace and quiet. Sitting by the beach with a good book and no one around her sounded incredible. As much as she enjoyed Van’s company, the man never shut up. It was as if he had some kind of fear of silence and would do everything in his power to make noise. On their long journeys, together, he’d sometimes told the exact same story over and over, just because he was interested in talking about it. It had driven her crazy, but this next month was going to be good for her. It was going to be just her, the beaches of Asturias, and a beautiful vacation home they had set her up with. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t even have to see another person for at least a week.
As she walked up to the airport, luggage in hand and big floppy hat on her head, she noticed that Van was waiting for her.
“Oh, uh, Van!” Sang said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here!”
“Of course!” Van said as he grabbed her luggage and threw it onto a baggage cart. “You would not believe how excited I was when I was given tickets to fly way out to Spain! I’ve never even heard of Asturias before! But hey, a free vacation—who am I to judge?”
“Oh... oh,” Sang said as she realized that the luggage sitting on the cart all belonged to him.
“Oh, yeah, by the way, Neil asked me to give you this!” he said as he shoved an envelope towards her. Sang took it and opened it gingerly.
Dear Sang, the note read. This is what you get for pulling a gun on
me. Have a nice, quiet four weeks. Love, Neil.
Sang sighed deeply as Van turned to tell her all about the various birds he had seen on the car ride to the airport. She glanced back at the cab. This was going to be a long four weeks.
Epilogue
Kenwar walked through the dark chambers of the temple, his footsteps echoing with each step. He was nervous. There had been some rumblings among the pro gamer community about the death of the Ward of Verrata. This wasn’t good news. Not good at all. A series of extremely strict policies had come down the pipeline not even a day ago. All of them were warning players about discussing anything Draco-related, going so far as to offer advice on what to tell police or reporters if questioned in the real world. He hadn’t seen this kind of thing in the past, and he certainly didn’t like the fact that the Council had summoned him so suddenly now. He spoke with them very rarely, but had generally been given more notice; today seemed wholly different.
He could smell the disgustingly musty stink of the underground mushrooms as he descended lower into the temple. He nervously checked the time; it was 2 hours past Sleep Time’s beginning. He hated being in the game during Sleep Time. Finally, he reached the room where the Council was waiting for him. He took a deep breath and pulled his cloak off from his head.
“Now or never,” Kenwar muttered to himself as he strolled into the room. It was dark. Too dark for him to see anything but silhouettes of figures in the background. They moved back and forth, and he felt an uneasiness run through him. Never had he seen so many members of the Council before. Not at once.
“Manhunter Kenwar,” boomed a voice. “Step forth.”
Kenwar did as he was told, stepping out into the small beam of light that was cast upon the center of the room. He knelt down.
“You may arise,” said an elder, crackly voice. “We have called you forth because your services are required.”
