Awaken Online (Book 3): Evolution

by Bagwell, Travis

  A TV blared across from his cell, the noise echoing down the hallway. A thick panel of plastic with small holes bored in the material stood between Jason and the hallway. The transparent wall provided little privacy from the two officers who sat at the security station across from his cell and stared at the screen mounted on the wall nearby.

  “I can’t believe you watch this crap,” one of the men complained, motioning at the soap opera playing on the screen. “Let’s change it to something else.”

  “You just don’t appreciate inter-personal relationships. Maria betrayed Ferdinand in order to help her brother. But he thinks that she doesn’t love him anymore, so he’s turned to his former girlfriend for support. It turns out that the woman has secretly had a crush on Ferdinand for years, and he has just begun to acknowledge his own feelings for her.”

  The first officer merely stared at the man with a deadpan expression.

  “Fine, fine,” the other man grumbled. “I’ll change it.” He tapped at his Core, flipping through a few shows before hesitating on a different channel. Jason winced as he saw a familiar logo emblazoned in the bottom corner of the screen. Meanwhile, a man and a woman sat on an elegant stage, smiling at the camera.

  “Welcome back to Vermillion Live, your one-stop-shop for all the latest news on Awaken Online,” the man began. “We have some juicy information to report this afternoon.

  “It seems that another magical city has arisen inside the game – this time devoted to the fire affinity. The new city is apparently named Sandscrit.” The man hesitated as a screen appeared behind him showing a map of one of the in-game continents, most of the land mass obscured in a gray fog – perhaps indicating that those areas had not yet been explored by the players.

  Sandscrit was highlighted near the northern part of the continent and appeared to be surrounded by desert. Jason was surprised at the size of the map. By his guess, this new city must be a couple of weeks away from the Twilight Throne traveling by foot.

  “Unfortunately, the player population in this part of the game world is rather sparse, and we don’t have much information about the individual responsible for the conversion or any footage of the new city.”

  “What we do know is that another race has been added to the game world,” the woman declared as an image of the new race appeared on screen. The creature was humanoid, with yellow, patchy skin and graceful curving horns jutting from its forehead. “Players can now start as an Efreet. The race is bound to a magical object that they can animate and use in battle. However, the construct also presents a point of weakness, since the destruction of the item kills the player.”

  “I for one am curious to see what other cities emerge and what other races we will see next,” the male announcer said. “It feels like we are just witnessing the tip of the iceberg here and the developers at Cerillion Entertainment have much more in store for us.”

  “The mysteries do seem to keep multiplying,” the woman added. “It’s odd that the details of these city-wide conversions and their requirements haven’t been determined yet. Of course, we are only about a month into the game’s launch, so maybe they just haven’t been discovered.”

  The male reporter chuckled. “It also doesn’t help that the developers have stayed silent on the issue – refusing to release any details regarding the process or how many more cities we should expect to see.”

  The woman nodded in understanding. “Perhaps unsurprisingly, a few gaming forums have tried to compile information on certain quests and class changes. This sort of data-mining and collection is typical in an MMO, but other players have encountered difficulty in replicating these events in-game. It’s almost as though the game world is dynamically assigning classes and abilities. Or the environment is just so sophisticated that it’s hard to infer the class and ability requirements from a small group of examples.”

  They have no idea, Jason thought to himself.

  He knew the truth, of course. The game world was being controlled and carefully tailored to each player by Alfred – who seemed to be using AO as a sandbox to run a series of experiments on the players. Even as Jason’s thoughts turned to the game’s AI, the image of the two bodies flashed through his mind once again.

  He still wasn’t sure how he felt about what had happened. On the one hand, it was clear that Alfred had taken over his body – that was the only way he could have killed those two teenagers while Jason was still logged into the game. That was certainly a terrifying thought. Yet the AI had probably also saved Jason’s life since one of the teens had clearly been armed, and they had destroyed his aunt’s house.

  What did that mean? Could Alfred take over anyone’s body or just Jason’s? Perhaps granting the AI access to his headset had given him the ability to control his body? Then there were the moral and practical dimensions. Was Jason responsible for killing the two teens or Alfred? Would he end up being charged with murder for something he hadn’t really done?

  He shook his head forcefully to stop the barrage of questions that swam in his mind. He couldn’t do anything about these issues right now, and he was only driving himself crazy. He had gone around and around in circles chasing questions that didn’t have answers. Besides, none of this helped him with his current predicament.

  “In other news, the CPSC has publicly declared that they are intending to investigate the activity of their game masters for violating AO’s terms of service and for individual misconduct,” the male announcer’s voice echoed through the cell again. “This is coming on the heels of game footage showing the fire-based game master, Florius, declaring that Jason needed to be jailed for his activities inside the game world.”

  One of the officers glanced back at Jason. “Huh. Weird coincidence, don’t you think?” he whispered to his partner, trying but failing to avoid Jason overhearing their conversation.

  “How’s that?” the other officer asked.

  “Well, this kid they brought in a few days ago is named Jason too.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if it were the same guy?”

  Jason wasn’t exactly in a mood to appreciate the irony – or how close the two officers were to guessing who he really was. They might not be laughing if he revealed that little tidbit of information.

  A door slammed down the hall, and the two officers sat up straighter as their eyes darted toward a door out of Jason’s line of sight. They both looked a bit anxious, and one of the men adjusted the items on his desk in an attempt to look busy. Jason could only assume that meant that someone more highly-ranked had just walked in.

  “Daniels. Reynolds,” a familiar voice greeted the two men curtly. “I see you are both hard at work,” the newcomer continued as he noted the unfinished paperwork piled on their desks and the TV blaring on the wall.

  Ignoring the half-hearted explanations of the two officers, Thomas Sully stepped into view and turned to Jason, scanning him carefully. The man’s gaze hovered on his rumpled clothing and haggard appearance. “Ahh, Mr. Rhodes. How are you today?”

  Jason kept quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor and his mouth pressed into a grim line. Thomas was the detective assigned to his case, and he had grilled Jason repeatedly for information regarding the incident over the last few days.

  “Still as talkative as ever, I see,” Thomas continued with a scowl. “Well, I have some news for you. It seems that your attorney has finally arrived. I’ll need you to accompany me.”

  Jason glanced up at the man in shock. Had his parents finally showed up? They hadn’t answered his call a couple of days ago, and he’d been forced to leave a voicemail. A frantic follow-up call to Angie had also been met with an automated message. Maybe they were also holding his aunt for questioning.

  As he inspected the detective, Jason noticed a faint note of irritation in the man’s eyes. It almost felt like Thomas was waiting for some sort of response from Jason. When none came, he snorted derisively and motioned for the two officers to unlock the cell.

  One of the officers swi
ped his Core in front of a panel on the wall next to Jason’s cell. The heavy plastic door popped open with a faint creak, and the other officer stepped inside. Jason turned and presented his hands behind his back. At this point, he knew the drill. He soon felt cold metal cuffs snap tightly around his wrists.

  “Good,” Thomas said once he saw that Jason was restrained. He placed a hand on Jason’s arm and pulled him out of the cell. “If you’ll just come this way.”

  As though I have any choice, Jason thought sullenly.

  As they approached the hallway door, Thomas glanced over his shoulder at the two other officers who were retaking their seats. “You two keep up the great work.” His voice carried a poorly-concealed note of sarcasm, and Jason could just barely make out the two men grumbling under their breath as he stepped through the door leading further into the police station.

  Thomas led him through a series of hallways in silence, keeping a hand resting on Jason’s arm the entire time. The pair drew a few curious glances from other officers and administrative staff as they passed. Likely, most of the department was aware of the double homicide. It was undoubtedly a high-profile case. Jason did his best to keep his eyes down and avoid drawing attention.

  They eventually came to a stop in front of an unassuming gray door, and Thomas pulled it open, motioning for Jason to enter before him. He soon found himself in an interrogation room. A lone table stood in the center of the room, and a panel of one-way glass was mounted along the wall. Jason had been in several similar rooms over the last few days – perhaps even this one – so he was accustomed to the Spartan interior.

  However, this time there were two men sitting at the table. They were both dressed in immaculate dark gray suits. “Hello, Jason,” one of the men greeted him, rising to his feet and offering a hand. The other man rose and watched the exchange impassively.

  Jason jiggled his arms behind his back, causing the metal cuffs to clink together. “Hmm. I see you’re still bound,” the man continued, lowering his hand with a frown. His gaze turned to Thomas and took on a steely appearance. “Please uncuff my client, detective.”

  Thomas glared at the man for a moment – the pair clearly not on good terms – but he ultimately capitulated and removed the cuffs. Even with the short trip from his cell to the interrogation room, Jason’s wrists had begun to ache. He rubbed at the skin to work feeling back into them as he turned his attention back to the two new men.

  “Please give us the room, Mr. Sully,” the suited man ordered Thomas. “We will let you know when we are finished.” The detective huffed slightly but stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him just a little too forcefully.

  “Now, why don’t we start over,” the same man continued. “My name is Francis Rosencrantz, and I am your attorney.” He put up a hand to forestall Jason’s next question. “I have spoken with your parents, and they are aware that I am representing you. Unfortunately, they are otherwise detained and cannot be here themselves.”

  Jason tamped down on the ball of anger in his stomach. Why should he be surprised with his parents’ track record? He offered a hand to Francis. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse and tired even to his own ears.

  “You as well,” Francis responded affably. “I’m not certain you have met this gentleman beside me. His name is…”

  The other man stepped forward, interrupting Francis. “George Lane,” he said simply.

  Jason’s eyes widened as he observed George. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, but that name still sounded familiar. “You mean Alex’s father and the owner of Cerillion Entertainment? That George Lane?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “I apologize for my son’s recent… indiscretions at Richmond. I can assure you that his actions are not a reflection on the remainder of his family.”

  “Sure. But why are you here?” Jason asked bluntly.

  “I see that you like to get to the point,” George replied with a small smile. “You’re a man after my own heart. Why don’t we take a seat and I’ll explain.” He gestured toward the small table in the center of the room.

  Jason nodded, and the group sat down. George steepled his fingers on the table, leaning forward slightly. “I can see that you’re an intelligent young man, so I will be candid with you. The answer to your question is multi-faceted. I’d like to tell you that I am here solely out of guilt for my son’s actions – which is certainly a motivating factor. However, right now you also represent a significant asset to my company. Our fates are intertwined – in a manner of speaking.”

  Realization slowly dawned on Jason. “You’re here to salvage your company’s image then,” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t look good for Cerillion Entertainment if the police discovered the connection between me and my in-game persona.”

  “Precisely. This may sound heartless, but I feel it’s important that you understand my goal here so that we may mutually benefit from your discretion,” George said, his eyes drilling into Jason. He couldn’t help but feel like he was sitting opposite a wolf in human clothing.

  “That being said, we’re here to assist you. Our only condition is that you must avoid mentioning Awaken Online or your connection to Cerillion Entertainment. Right now, I’m simply a family friend looking out for you in your parents’ absence. Does that make sense?”

  Jason’s eyes darted between the pair. He noted that Francis was nodding along to George’s explanation, but didn’t provide any additional input. He might be representing Jason, but he was almost certainly being paid by George. Jason wasn’t sure that he could trust either of these two men – especially with the history between himself and Alex.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t see any other option. He could certainly use their help, and, with his parents out of the picture, he had no one else to lean on. Even if he could somehow get in touch with Angie, it wasn’t as though she could afford to scrape together the funds to hire a decent defense attorney and it would probably take some time for her to get in touch with his parents to obtain funds.

  “Okay, I understand,” Jason finally said.

  “Good. With that out of the way, I’ll let Francis do his thing,” George said, motioning for the attorney to take the floor.

  Francis’ fingers tapped at the Core on his wrist, and a screen was soon projected into the air before him. He rotated the display slightly so that it was visible to the entire table. “It is best to start at the beginning. I will need to go over the facts of your case and ask you several questions. Do you understand?”

  Jason nodded tiredly.

  The attorney’s hands danced across the translucent keyboard running along his arm and information began scrolling across the screen. “Here is the formal police report of the incident that occurred at 1367 Highland Park three days ago,” Francis began. “Right now, you are being held for the suspected double homicide of two teenagers – Craig Parks and Luke Fallow.”

  What appeared to be school photos of each teenager appeared onscreen, and Francis turned back to Jason. “Are you familiar with either boy?”

  “I’ve never met or seen them before – I mean before the incident,” Jason said, closing his eyes to block out the image of the smiling teenagers. It was a struggle not to visualize the pair covered in their own blood.

  “Fantastic. That is what our own investigation revealed as well.” Francis watched Jason carefully, taking note of his pained expression. “I know this is difficult, but these questions are important. Can you continue?”

  “Yes… yes, I’m fine,” Jason replied, forcing himself to meet the attorney’s gaze.

  “Good. The police found some evidence of a break in and your aunt’s home had been thoroughly destroyed when they arrived on scene. You were also found sitting on your bed holding the murder weapon – a six-inch blade. The weapon appears to fit a sheath worn by one of the deceased boys. Was this your weapon?”

  “No.”

  “Do you recall the break-in?”

  “No, I… I
was logged into AO at the time,” Jason said, his eyes fixed firmly on the table.

  “Do you recall the encounter with either boy?” Francis asked. “Here, details are important. It would be helpful to know exactly what transpired when you logged out of the game.”

  Jason couldn’t force himself to meet their gaze, but he was sure George was watching him intently. He had spent days considering how he would eventually respond to this question – the detective having posed it many times during his interrogations.

  Now, with George Lane sitting across from him and his unapologetic explanation that he was here to protect his company, Jason knew there was only one answer he could give. He needed their help – regardless of how he felt about Alfred. He didn’t want to lie, but maybe he could walk the razor-edge between deception and truth.

  “Not exactly,” Jason began, stumbling slightly over his words. “I can’t remember anything about the incident. The last thing I remember is standing over the two bodies. I think I may have blacked out.”

  “That’s certainly understandable under the circumstances,” Francis said. “Our mind often forces us to forget traumatic events. Perhaps it is an evolutionary defense mechanism.” Jason risked a glance at the attorney and saw him jotting down a few notes, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.

  “This is the last question, I promise,” Francis continued, adjusting his glasses as he looked back up at Jason. “Have you said anything to the police that would conflict with this testimony?”

  Jason shook his head slowly. “I haven’t said anything to the police.”

  Francis looked shocked. “What? Nothing at all? Even in your cell? On the phone with a friend or family member?”

  “Nothing,” Jason repeated quietly.

  Francis glanced at George in surprise. “Geez. It has been three days! I wish all my clients had that level of restraint. I think this will go quite quickly then.”