by Justin Sloan
“Seriously?” I laughed. “I mean, as extra fighters.”
“Ah, yes.”
Glider held up a hand and we fell silent. She looked around, then motioned to the hills nearby. “We should get moving. They’re coming.”
We agreed. Even without much reason to trust them, I wanted to. There was that and the fact that this hacker character was really our only hope. If we didn’t let him help us, we were in deep shit.
The ships were the first to appear, soaring through the skies. Mechs came next, but by then we were moving through trees in small valleys, well out of their line of sight. Banshee told us that she suspected we had a jammer around us, so if they were scanning, their chances of finding our exact location would be hard. But with their level of equipment, I would not be surprised if they could break through anyway.
Banshee was in the lead, but suddenly stopped. She glanced back and held up two fingers, then pointed to our right. The ravine we were in led down to the right into what looked like a dried-up river that veered left again and reconnected. I scanned the area ahead to see what she’d indicated, but couldn’t see anything unusual.
“Cloaking,” she said, then held her arm up to me to show a small screen with little red blips ahead, possibly in the ravine—a lot of them.
That gave me an idea. “Glider, are you equipped with the shadow belt from the game?”
She checked, then nodded.
“Good, we can stay hidden if we keep to the trees.” I turned to Banshee. “But we have to stick together.”
“Your call, boss,” Banshee replied, though a flash of annoyance crossed her face. If I knew one thing about her from the game, it was that she liked her orders to be followed, and didn’t do well with superiors questioning her judgment. It was part of her arc, a part that she apparently hadn’t resolved at the time of her port into our sim. She’d manage.
We ran for the densest section of the trees and then for high ground. At the point where it all converged, we were able to see down to the river bed and realize we were mostly surrounded. The blips showed clear enough on Banshee’s wrist piece, but in front of us it was more like looking at a heat wave. Shimmers of light showed from time to time—not a perfect cloak, but enough to throw off anyone not knowing to look for them.
“The minute we open fire, or connect, anyway, the cloak vanishes,” Banshee explained.
“Of course, then we’ll have given up our position, too,” I pointed out.
“Not if one of us is here. The others…” She glanced around, then indicated a point behind us and to the left where the rocks curved back and allowed for a steep climb up. “If you were all there, as soon as I revealed them you could hit them from another angle.”
I analyzed the area. The way the hill curved and where the selected point was, she’d be able to fall back and join us. I agreed to the plan, and Glider, Rivera, and I headed for the rocks, while Banshee took up her position.
We crawled up the rocks and found the perfect cover, then held steady for Banshee’s move. She was glancing down at her wrist, then up at the surrounding area. Finally, she grinned our way and made a movement with her rifle, like she was attaching something.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Banshee always has a trick up her sleeve,” Glider replied, shaking her head. “Great when it’s being used against someone other than you.”
“Looks like…” Rivera squinted, then smiled. “Yup, looks like a grenade launcher.”
“Oh, damn.” I leaned forward, excited, then thought to check my rifle again, ensuring there was a round in the chamber. Good to go.
“This’ll be fun,” Rivera said, licking her lips as if she was about to dive into a plate of chicken wings. Damn, the cravings were starting to get to me. Even though our bodies were being provided with nourishment back at command, that didn’t stop us from wanting certain foods or drink. Now that I was thinking about it, a hot cup of coffee would be perfect. Waking up without it was outside of my comfort zone, and now that I was consciously thinking about it, the craving grew worse.
At least my adrenaline was about to get kicked up a few notches.
Banshee stood, let out a loud “Whoo-hoo!” and let ‘er rip. The grenade shot out with a thwoop and arced, then hit in an explosion that sent pixels scattering as bodies evaporated. She was already running back, but turned briefly to lob another grenade over the hill.
The enemy was recovering, about thirty in all—not as many as I’d assumed from the shimmers, actually. Then again, the grenade might have taken out ten or more of them. Now that we could see them, it was our turn.
I shot first. It wasn’t just any old shot, either. As my finger went to the trigger and I gently squeezed, it was like everything slowed down. It wasn’t true slow motion, but a sharp clarity that made it all feel slow, like when an extremely attractive woman walks in the room and you’re aware of her every move. My senses were heightened, so that I saw the movement in an enemy’s hip and shoulders indicating he would head left. I shot, intercepting the move, the bullet going right for his head. One gone. Another was there, spinning to return fire—eyes wide as if he saw the bullet a second before it hit. Gone. Two more fell like this before I realized what was happening. My upgraded focus had kicked in. If upgrades kept improving me like this, we might really have a chance at winning this thing.
My teammates opened up at my side with a deafening explosion of rounds going off, shells flying past me. One hit my hand and burned slightly, but didn’t interrupt my incessant slaughter of those poor bastards. Of course, they’d simply respawn back at the ring in that temple, but for now this would do. Banshee’s second grenade exploded, taking out another small group of the enemy.
The enemy finally realized what was happening and one of them took control, pulling the rest back to a point against the hills where we couldn’t see them from our current position. From what I saw, though, they had only a handful left, at best.
The hill to our left rose up in rocks and scattered grass, some small bushes, but no cover. Still, we’d be able to get around to attack.
“Rivera with me,” I said, pointing the way. “You two lay down suppressive fire. Keep them in place.”
“Roger that,” Glider said, and Banshee prepared her last grenade.
We scrambled up the hill, my feet nearly giving way at one point. But Rivera was behind me and gave me a nice shove up, hand right on my ass. It was awkward, but saved me from falling back down the hill and likely losing any advantage we had.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of her hand and focus on my breathing as we reached the top. I had my rifle up and ready, but no sign of them yet.
“Firmer than I would’ve guessed for a game developer,” she replied with a wink.
“Um, wait until you feel the real thing. In here, they kinda reset my old stats, if you will.”
She laughed. “Noted. I’ll be anxiously awaiting the day when I get to feel your less firm ass in real life.”
“That’s not what I—” I stopped, turned and fired. An enemy soldier had just appeared at the edge of the hill. They weren’t trying to get cover and fight below; they were moving around the side just like we were. “Let’s postpone the ass talk for a bit, shall we?”
“If you say so,” she replied, shooting at another soldier, but this one ducked back down.
We charged over to the side of the hill, but then a shout came from my left and a soldier was there, rushing me with rifle up and bayonet attached. He nearly got me, but I side-stepped and caught him with a punch to the gut that sent him stumbling back. Something told me that extra oomph came from my upgraded power. Damn, that felt good.
Not so good when I was busy staring at my fist in awe and another soldier caught me with a rifle across the temple, knocking me to the ground. She stood over me, about to shoot me in the face, when someone laughed, causing her to back up.
I turned to see General Omarav walking toward us. “We have
them,” he said into his comms, and the raiders above circled back as mechs in the distance turned to join us. “My only question is… how in the hell are you doing this?”
“Thought I’d ask you the same question,” I spat back. “When the World Council finds out—”
“They won’t,” he interrupted. “You’ll be dead and all the systems will show is a major glitch. We won the war, but your side made a mistake, somehow created a simulation that would kill you off. And when the war’s won, the Great Americas will finally be humbled in the eyes of the world. Not so great, anymore.”
“You want to know how we’re doing it?” Rivera asked. “Ask them.”
He followed her line of sight to see Banshee and Glider appear, weapons aimed and grinning.
“Move!” Rivera shouted, and we made for the edge of the hill. Both sides opened up on each other, and as I rolled over the edge and realized how stupid this was, I heard the thump of that grenade launcher. Okay, so rolling down a rocky hill that could almost be a cliff was stupid, but staying back there would’ve been worse.
The general’s yell echoed off of the hills, and then the explosion hit. My head was spinning, the taste of blood in my mouth, and I was still falling. With a thud, I hit the bottom. A second later, Rivera landed at my side. My ears were ringing from all the shots fired so close and my body ached from the fall, but we were alive. Judging by the pixels I saw vanishing in the air above, the enemy wasn’t.
However, we still had incoming mechs, and I wasn’t sure what the raiders were up to. Two forms appeared above and I reached out, searching for my rifle. It wasn’t there. Rivera put a hand on my arm, and when I looked up, she held my face.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, then pointed to Glider and Banshee as they recovered from their slide down to us. “It’s just them.”
It took me a second to recover, but then we were moving through the charred ground of Banshee’s earlier grenades.
“Guys,” Glider said, and she looked up from one of the areas where the enemy had fallen. When we joined her, a chill ran up my spine. On the ground were several weapons—different types of guns. Normally that would make sense, except for the fact that these were sim enemies who pixelated out, up to now not leaving anything behind.
“Loot?” I asked, looking around at it all. This was making me feel much better. “I’m a big fan of loot.”
“We all are,” Banshee said, reaching down and grabbing a pistol.
I made my way over to several grenades—smart grenades, no less—and snatched them up. I also found a pistol that was a bit larger than normal, the end of it blue with the lightning symbol. When I turned and used a far-off rock as target practice, a bolt of electricity shot out of the gun, exploding the rock.
“Holy balls,” Rivera said, and then started looking for what she could use.
A few minutes later, we had a small stockpile of claymores, motion sensors, and even drones. She took her military jacket and tied it in a makeshift pack to carry it all in. I couldn’t help staring for a moment, but then looked away, remembering myself.
“We need a base,” I said, glancing back toward the city. “With this stuff, we can set up defenses and hold our own long enough. What’ya say?”
“You want to go back in there?” Rivera asked, but then nodded. “Yeah, actually, that makes sense. Not like we can run and hide forever, and who knows if the plug will get pulled back in the real world. We need to win before that becomes an actual possibility.”
We all agreed, so took our new loot and began the trek back, though along a different route.
12
We’d had our victory. Maybe it wasn’t quite time to sit back and celebrate, but we took the moment to remind ourselves why we were alive, to remember those who had fallen. We’d made our way back to the edge of the site, to a corner of a well-lit part of the simulation that looked like Tokyo—Shinjuku, to be exact.
This was it, the final calm before the storm. We’d seen their mechs and their raiders, but the four of us had been able to take down a group about half the size of their force, I wagered. Our confidence levels were soaring, but we didn’t want to get cocky. The showdown was coming, but first we’d rest, regain our bearing, and formulate a plan.
We scouted a building and ensured it was clear. As Rivera set up some of the motion sensors at strategic points at the corner of the building and claymores on the stairs, we went about securing the place and then preparing for an evening of waiting the enemy out. We wanted them to give up, or spread themselves thin looking for us. They wouldn’t expect us to have come right back to their backyard so soon after realizing how royally screwed we were, right? Then again, we’d just kicked some major ass and gotten some great loot, so hell, who knows.
Now that we’d settled on a room to lay low in, it started adapting. At first it was confusing, and then I saw exactly what was happening, and loved it. Where before there’d been a futon on tatami, now a bar rose out of the floor and a whole wall of bottles sat waiting for us. Our benefactor had provided us with an open bar, so we figured we’d at least have a sip each. Or, that’s what I figured, but apparently the NPCs weren’t on the same page.
“Might want to slow down there,” I said, holding up my glass of scotch. “I mean, if you can even get drunk in a simulation.”
“Isn’t this for all the men and women we’ve lost today?” Glider said, then upended the bottle of tequila she’d found. When she was done, she wiped her mouth and grinned. “Best make it count, then.”
“Except we don’t know if the enemy could come charging in at any minute,” I countered. “I need all of us at our best.”
“He’s right,” Rivera said. She had her glass, as of yet untouched, and sat by one of the windows keeping watch.
“Is that necessary?” Banshee asked, going over to join her at the window with two shot glasses. “I mean, we just kicked their asses. We have the defenses you set up… we’ll be okay.”
Rivera shrugged. “It’s not always easy to just let loose.”
I joined them now too, glancing around at the empty streets. Outside, neon lights flashed and a large billboard lit up the night with the image of a woman smiling at us wearing fox ears and too much eye shadow. Below was some sign about superheroes, and I had to wonder if it was programmed into the world, or something one of the hackers had added to be funny. If my memory was right, the fox-lady was from some movie that had recently been adapted from an old book, one my wife had loved but I’d never been able to get into.
“Were you a fan?” I nodded to the billboard.
“Of what? She a celebrity or something?” Rivera asked.
I frowned, amazed that she hadn’t heard of it, but shrugged it off.
“It’s easy to let loose,” Banshee said, putting her shot glass aside and taking the other while giving me a curious smile. “Body shot?”
I laughed. “If I had a dollar for everyone at my old company who would’ve killed to do a body shot off of you…”
She frowned. “That’s a yes?”
“That’s a no. Not my style.”
“Maybe if it was…” she held the shot out, putting one hand on the collar of Rivera’s shirt and pulling it down enough to show a hint of skin, “on someone else?”
Rivera glanced down at the hand on her shirt, and for a moment I thought she’d knock the NPC out. But instead, her eyes rose to mine. They weren’t glaring, and they weren’t rejecting the idea. To be honest, there were parts of me that wanted nothing more than to catch that drink on the tip of my tongue as it made its way across her skin, to then remove her vest and tear the rest of her shirt off. But I turned away, going back to the cup I’d left on the counter for another sip.
“You all feel free, but leave me out of it,” I said.
“I’m sure she was joking,” Rivera said, brushing the woman’s hand aside and moving over to join me. “It’s not a big deal. Ignore them.”
“Ignore us?” Glider grinned as she walk
ed over to Banshee. She looked directly at me as she unhooked her body armor, let it fall with a thud, and then took her undershirt and pulled it over her head. Standing there in just her bra and body armor bottoms, Glider took the edge of her bra on her left breast, nodded, and then pulled it aside so that her breast was exposed.
All I could do was stare, in spite of myself, as Banshee poured the shot at the top of Glider’s breast and caught it in her mouth as it cascaded down the woman’s breast and off her pink, perky nipple.
Banshee followed the trail of liquor back up, then turned to me as she licked her lips and reached for the other shot. “Your turn.”
I’m not going to lie—the idea of walking over there and doing just that was very, very tempting. With a heavy sigh, I turned away and took another sip of my scotch. Rivera was staring at me, so I turned to her and met her gaze.
“You surprise me,” she said.
“Do I?”
She shrugged. “You’re sure? They seem… eager.”
A glance over and I had to look away quickly, or lose myself to my whims. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t enjoy it—damn, I would enjoy it. It’d been over two years since I’d last felt the touch of a woman. But that was the problem. I’d loved my wife beyond belief. Even now, the thought of being with anyone else felt like cheating. How would I feel if I actually went through with it, when it was all over? It wasn’t a hard question to answer, especially when I saw Glider and Banshee undressing each other, kissing, hands exploring.
“Stop,” I said. “This… you’re NPCs!”
“What?” Glider asked, her breaths coming heavy.
“Non-Player Characters. Sims, made up by this hacker person. And hell, if this is being televised right now, this and everything else—”
“I know what an NPC is,” Banshee replied. I turned to face her, when suddenly she was lit by a flash of light, and then glitched out. The light faded, and the nude, red-headed video game character with large breasts was gone, replaced by a fully clothed Asian woman with short hair. “What I’m saying is, simply because I took on a certain look when in here, what makes you assume I’m an NPC?”
