by Terry Schott
“Is Cyber Inc. running the country now?”
“Not at all.” He moved to one side to show a man sitting at the head of the Cyber Inc boardroom table. “Acting President Johnston is here and in charge. He was visiting with us when word of his succession came down. As you know, things have become very heated since then.”
Loredana nodded.
“In the best interest of security, President Johnston accepted our offer of protection in the company compound until things cool down.”
Loredana scanned the edges of her monitor and wrote ‘29’ on a piece of paper, circling it. Shawn and Ivan looked at the number and nodded. “Will anyone else join us mid-way through?” she asked.
Glen spread his hands. “This is it.”
“I count thirty countries. The others are not interested?”
Glen shook his head. “I will get out of your way and let you speak with the President.”
The camera zoomed in to focus on the new president. He was a middle-aged man with greying hair and round black-framed glasses. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Miss Cyber.”
“Mr. President.” She nodded. “Why aren’t more countries present?”
“No other nations are responding to our communications.”
Loredana tapped her pen against her notepad.
“Drone and satellite images indicate most have succumbed to violence.”
Loredana shook her head. “I warned you.”
The president opened his mouth and paused before nodding. “We can get a message to the others by hacking into their communications when we are ready to proceed with a plan. It is our hope that you can help us restore order to the world.”
“Okay.”
“Excellent.” The president looked down at his notes. “I have spoken to the rest in attendance and we have reached consensus. If you are ready to listen, I will give you our terms.”
Loredana raised one eyebrow. “Terms?”
“Yes.” He adjusted his glasses.
“That makes it sound as if I am some kind of attacker.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sou—”
“I did not cause this, Mr. President.”
“Your technology did Miss Cyb—”
“Wait a second.” She leaned forward. “My company made a game. Everyone liked it and wanted to play. The governments of the world forced me to shut it down.”
“Before your game, people were perfectly happy to—”
“No, Mr. President. Before my game, people were not perfectly happy at all. That is one thing that was made abundantly clear.”
Voices from different country leaders began speaking. Loredana leaned back in her chair. After a moment, all the voices went silent. Glen leaned in so that his face was in the camera’s field of vision. “Sorry about that, Loredana. I muted the microphones.”
Loredana stared at Glen without speaking until he disappeared again. The president cleared his throat. “I apologize for treating you as if you have done something wrong, Miss Cyber. None of that is important at the moment.”
“Okay.”
“Let me try again. Here are the conditions.” He winced and held up one hand. “Requests, which we are asking you to agree to before bringing Transition back online.” He looked down at his notes. “Number one.”
“No,” she said, making the president look up.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I am not here to negotiate like a criminal asking for you to free prisoners.”
“That’s not how we view this.”
“Then stop acting like it is.”
“Miss Cyber.” The tone of the president’s voice became stern. “We are asking that you limit online time to twelve hours a day, and a few other common sense requests. This will enable people to play, yet ensure that they come out of the simulation in order to fulfill their obligations.”
“I’m sure all of your requests are reasonable, Mr. President.” Loredana folded her arms. “I am not interested in hearing any because I will not be implementing them.”
From his expression, the man appeared genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because none will be actual things which I can do.”
“Surely you can power the simulation down every twelve hours. That doesn’t sound very difficult.”
“The simulation does not power down.”
The president squinted. “It’s off right now.”
“No it isn’t. It’s still online. We changed the entry process so that people could not enter. It’s not possible to turn the simulation off, only control how a person gets into it.”
“I see.”
“If you want to grant access to Transition once more, I will make it so that the old entry procedure works. Once I do that, I will not change it again.” She spread her hands. “That’s all I can do.”
The president began to speak but his voice cut out.
“They muted their microphones,” Ivan said.
Loredana nodded and continued watching the screen as Glen leaned forward and spoke to the president.
“Damn.” Ivan shook his head. “Glen turned so I can’t read his lips.”
Loredana chuckled.
After a few moments, Glen leaned out of the camera’s view and the president nodded. “This changes things, Miss Cyber. I need to confer with the other leaders to see if they are willing to proceed.”
“I understand, Mr. President. Let me know when you have decided.”
“I will, thank you.”
“And, Mr. President?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think we need a conference next time. Simply call me and let me know if it is a go or no go.”
The president nodded and the screen went dark.
Ivan went to his computer desk and terminated the connection.
“That was interesting.” Shawn stood and stretched.
Loredana continued to look at the blank screen.
“We could do what they asked, you know.” Shawn peeked over the monitors. “Make a few zones with a timed restriction and at a certain time have it so players are ported into a blank zone. It would be so boring they would log out.”
“No.”
“Wouldn’t take much to do.”
Loredana did not reply.
“Lore?”
Her eyes shifted to meet his.
He shook his head. “No?”
“Absolutely not.” She looked at Ivan, who nodded and began typing on his keyboard.
#39
Bowing to world pressure, governments across the globe have asked Lava Games to re-open access to Transition for anyone who wants to play.
Not long after the announcement was made, an exodus of players began logging into the virtual reality simulation. It is the sincere hope of leaders everywhere that people will soon become bored with the game and choose to return to their normal lives.
In other news, a group of people opposing virtual reality has formed. They call themselves, Purity, and preach that, if unchecked, virtual reality will destroy mankind and the world as we know it.
Loredana walked to the edge of the firelight and turned to face the three who had come to see her off. “That was an incredible feast. Thank you for throwing it in my honour.”
Henry smiled and dipped his head. “It was our pleasure, Loredana. We owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.”
“It was fun to meet everyone, although I was surprised to learn that many do not possess the Cyber name.”
Oscar laughed. “They are all related. Over the years the Cyber family made many excellent marriages with powerful families of each era.”
“That’s right.” Henry nodded. “Taking the surname of the husband is only a recent occurrence. Even today, it is customary for people from families of influence to retain their name.”
“I see.” Loredana made a mental note to look that up, as well as research some of the surnames that she had heard today. She looked at Desdemona
and smiled. “Only one Thorne though, unless I missed another?”
Desdemona laughed. “I am the only one, that is for certain. I don’t think it was ever a common name. At least . . .” She paused.
“At least?” Loredana raised one eyebrow.
“Nothing.” Desdemona stepped forward and the two women embraced. “Now that you have met everyone, please come back and visit us again soon. It’s a nice change of pace when we have a visitor.”
“Here she goes.” Oscar shook his head.
“What?” Loredana smiled at her father.
“Nothing.” Henry’s smile dimmed.
Loredana looked at each in turn. “Are you finding this zone too small? Or too boring?”
Desdemona looked toward the ground and Oscar spoke. “Of course not. It is extremely large and we possess the ability to create or do anything imaginable here. Compared to our last arrangement, we are in heaven.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Loredana thought she caught a look between Henry and Desdemona, but it passed too quickly for her to be certain. “Well then. I must be off.”
“See you soon.” Oscar smiled as his daughter gave him a kiss on the cheek and then disappeared with a glimmer of air.
Oscar looked up at the stars in the night sky. “I hate lying to her.”
“We aren’t lying.” Henry said. “Only withholding a small portion of the truth.”
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“She is a Cyber,” Henry placed a hand on his shoulder. “Raised and groomed as heir to the family which means that she knows our true goal. Look at what she has accomplished thus far.”
Oscar sighed. “That’s why I want to tell her the rest of it.”
“She is not ready,” Desdemona said. “Soon. But not yet.”
“I disagree. Henry, when you began your venture, how many lives did you touch?”
“That’s not a fair question.” Desdemona shook her head. “He might not have taken the world by storm, but he set the foundation and fanned the winds of change.”
“That’s right,” Oscar agreed. “And by the time the company passed into my hands, Cyber Inc. was generating billions of dollars, employing tens of millions, and bringing entertainment to over half of the world.”
“Exactly.” Desdemona placed one hand on the back of the patriarch’s neck. “Henry started the ball rolling, and each who followed increased the sphere of influence.”
“Not Loredana.”
Henry frowned and then smiled. “You’re right. She did not have the luxury of running Cyber Inc. In fact, she had to build something successful with the threat of destruction from our great behemoth. Her accomplishment is grand. A new victory and testament to the blood which flows through all of our veins.”
“Then you agree with me? We can tell her?”
Henry paused for a long moment, then shook his head. “I want to make certain that her scheme turns out as intended. We controlled much of the world through Cyber Inc. If her plan works, which I am certain it will, then we will control enough to finally proceed.”
“When will you be satisfied?” Oscar asked.
Henry smiled. “When the billions of players are trapped securely inside Transition.”
Oscar thought about it and nodded. “That’s fair.”
#40
Jennifer stood in the virtual lobby and looked at the selection panel. A realistic representation of her fantasy avatar, Akira, was displayed on the screen, rotating slowly. Jennifer touched a button on the panel and Akira was replaced by Starchosen, her science fiction character. Another tap and a young teenage boy avatar named Archren, her newest character, which she was building to interact in more diverse scenarios and games, appeared. She tapped her chin, trying to decide who to inhabit for her next play.
Something yanked on the back of her neck. “Ow!” She clapped at the spot with one hand and turned to see if someone had grabbed her. Seconds later, another pull in the same spot made her cry out again.
Jennifer opened her eyes, squinting as the sharp pain pierced at the base of her neck shot into her eyeballs. “Seriously, Mom. You can’t keep yanking me out of Transition.” She rubbed the back of her neck to make certain her ticket was still attached. “I’ve heard some kids get brain damage from getting pulled out like you’re doing.”
“Really?” Her mother’s expression softened for a second, then her eyes narrowed and her mouth turned down. “I don’t believe you, Jennifer. This game is a terrible danger.”
“Mom.”
“I mean it. Since it came back online, two of the girls I work with have lost children.”
“Lost? You mean that their bodies died because they didn't come out of the game to feed themselves?”
Her eyes were glassy. “That’s right.”
“That’s not gonna happen to me. I know what I’m doing, Mom.”
Her mother reached for the Magma unit and picked it up.
“Hey!” Jennifer stepped forward, reaching to grab the unit from her mother. She wasn't quick enough. Her mother raised it over her head, causing the plug to come flying out of the wall. Then she brought it down hard and smashed it against the ground with a loud crash.
Jennifer froze, her eyes wide as she looked at the destroyed unit at her feet. “What have you done?”
“It’s for your own good.”
Jennifer knelt down and placed one hand on top of the broken casing.
“I’m not going to lose you.” Her mother’s voice quivered. “You’re my daughter and I love you. I know it seems bad, but trust me, this is for the best.”
Jennifer stood, her head bowed as she turned and walked toward her door.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked.
“School.”
“You can take the day off. Jen, I know you’re upset. Please try not to—”
“I’m fine.” Jennifer pulled the door open. “I’ll see ya after school.”
***
“You don’t look so good. What’s wrong?”
Jennifer sat at her desk, staring at her hands folded in front of her.
“Jen?”
She looked up and blinked at the boy beside her. “Huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Billy.”
Billy sat at the desk in front of hers, his body turned to face her. “You sat like that through the whole class, Jen. Didn’t look up once, not even when the teacher asked if you were okay.”
“Oh.” Her head lowered.
“Class was over ten minutes ago.”
“Okay.”
“Wanna get going? I thought we were gonna hook up in Transition after school?”
Jennifer looked up. There were tears in her eyes. “I can’t play anymore.”
Billy frowned. “What? Why not?”
“She broke it.”
Billy paused for a beat. “Your mom?”
“She smashed my Magma against the floor. It’s ruined.”
Billy laughed and she furrowed her brow. “It’s not funny.”
“Sure it is.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “My mom bashed mine in a few weeks ago. It’s no big deal.”
“What? How can you still be playing?”
“I looked it up and apparently there are so many units operating that they have formed a field over the entire continent.”
“I can still play even without a unit in my house?”
Billy grinned. “That’s right. If you’re wearing your ticket, then you can access Transition from anywhere. You don’t have to be in your room near your unit because you are washed in an invisible field. We all are.”
Jennifer wiped the tears away and laughed. Then she froze. “If mom knows I can still get in, she will take my ticket.”
“Then get another one.”
“Yeah, but she’s gonna just keep interrupting me.”
Billy stood. “So how you gonna stop her?”
Jennifer pushed her long blonde hair back from her forehead. “I�
��m not going back home.”
#41
Troy sprinted toward the building, dodging and ducking as weapons fired all around him. A whizzing bullet grazed his ear and he swore.
“Almost there.” He could barely make out Sylvan’s voice over the chaos.
When he was close enough, Troy dived, tucking his head and hitting the ground with one shoulder, rolling. He sat up and dug his boots against the ground, sliding so his back was against the closest wall, out of the way of fire. Bullets whizzed past, occasionally hitting the edge of the wall, scattering bits of concrete.
Troy glanced at his surroundings, gasping to regain his breath. He stopped and squinted at one section of wall. “Is that a hole?”
“It is.”
“There’s not supposed to be a hole there.” He bent his right arm and held it in front of him. “Display.” The thin blue metal armour covering his arm shimmered and was replaced by a cylindrical unit with buttons, lights, and a rectangular colour display. Troy tapped a sequence of buttons and watched as a red circle appeared on the screen, flashed three times, then turned green. “Verbal controls activated.”
Troy nodded. “Pause scenario.”
All sounds ceased. Troy stood and walked into the open. Bullets hung suspended in the air. In one section of the wall, exploding debris was frozen in place. Troy strode to the hole in the wall. “Hide building and Identify gaps within sensor range.”
The building shimmered and faded but the large hole remained. Troy turned, scanning both the ground and sky. A similar hole was positioned above him and opposite from the one on the ground, as well as a third very high in the air about fifty feet away.
“Identify position of three visible gaps.”
“Second floor bedroom of building, where a closet should be,” the voice spoke through the arm unit. “Third is located behind cloud in northern quadrant, one hundred degrees from base level, two hundred-foot altitude.”
“Fill third gap with clouds.” Troy turned, surveying the grass and landscape. “Standard consistency and physics to match simulation.
A fluffy white cloud appeared where the gap had been and Troy nodded. “Second gap becomes standard closet, reference database of building for dimensions.” He waited until a chime sounded. “First gap”—Troy paused—“create cave. Ten feet wide at the largest point. Decreasing height at random level between three and six feet high. Opening four feet by four feet with asymmetrical shape.”
