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The Sapporo Outbreak

Page 13

by Craighead, Brian


  "Yes sir, I do."

  Tanaka took a sharp breath in, and leaned forward "Doctor Becker, do you trust me?"

  Becker was caught off guard for a moment. Tanaka's elbows were resting on his knees, his head jutted forward, his dark eyes fixed on Becker.

  "Yes. Yes sir, of course I do trust you."

  "Then listen to me Doctor Becker. The reason iSight 3.0 is so compelling, so different - and will become the most successful game in history - is the feeling of complete immersion all players experience. That's all thanks to you and your genius Doctor Becker. You are about to change the world. It's because these virtual lives you are creating are so realistic that the game is so unique."

  Becker felt a surge of pride at Tanaka's ringing endorsement. Much less sure of the need to delay now, Becker continued.

  "Thank you for those kind words sir. Of course, I can't take too much credit. They may seem human, but the generated personalities aren't real and the iSight world they live in isn't real. They are and always will be engineered, reconstructed. A blend of many different personalities."

  Tanaka nodded. "Yes, yes Doctor Becker. Your genius has been to make this invisible - to any player these players are real. That's all that matters. "

  Becker began to respond, but Tanaka beat him to it.

  "Anyway Doctor Becker, I really do appreciate your concerns, but as with any leap forward there will be some last minute doubts. I have promised our investors, our loyal game players, my own daughter, that iSight 3 will launch soon. And I do not intend to let any of them down. So please - I ask you to trust me Doctor Becker, and put all your energy into these last few days. In less than a week, we will release iSight 3, and within months one third of the planet will be experiencing and celebrating your genius. "

  Becker nodded, enraptured.

  "I asked a moment ago if you trusted me Doctor Becker. Now I ask, can I trust you? Can I trust that you will put all your time and energy into one last push? Can I trust that you are ready to join me in changing the world Doctor Becker?"

  Becker nodded quickly.

  "Yes Mr Tanaka, you can trust me to make it happen."

  "Excellent," Tanaka smiled broadly. "I'm afraid Doctor that I must attend to other matters, and so we must end our conversation here."

  Becker hurriedly stood up.

  "Yes, of course Mr Tanaka. Thank you once again for taking the time to meet me."

  Becker bowed deeply, Tanaka responded in kind and Becker hurried along the penthouse corridor, out through the frosted glass doors, past the hawkish Itou and into the visitors' lounge.

  As he made his way toward the elevators at the end of the visitors' lounge on the north side of the building, Becker's thoughts turned to his relationship with Tanaka. Becker loved his work here at WhiteStar, and he'd always considered his more methodical approach an ideal balance to Tanaka's big picture, swing-for-the-fences showmanship. A partnership of opposites. Other than one tragic incident a couple of years earlier, it had been a relationship which had succeeded beyond all measure.

  As the elevator doors silently glided open, Becker mused that in his time with Tanaka, he had helped redefine entertainment and social media, and in the process he had become unbelievably wealthy. He owed his success to Tanaka, and his single-minded determination, his refusal to ever admit defeat.

  And yet - despite all this - Becker couldn't escape the feeling that this time was different. As the game had grown, so had the risks. Now they were facing issues with players losing sight of reality - problems unlike almost anything they'd encountered before.

  Tanaka dismissed them - as deep down Becker knew he would. It was no longer simply Tanaka being determined, driven or stubborn. Although he'd never say this to Tanaka, Becker knew exactly what was driving Tanaka. He'd stumbled upon the answer several months ago during a deep dive into the WhiteStar database.

  It wasn't money that drove Tanaka.

  It wasn't fame.

  It was something far more important.

  #

  10:30am Thursday, Main Lobby, Sapporo (Minus 4:30 Hours)

  Yui Sakura could see that Hill and Harper appeared to engage iSight at almost every opportunity. Harper, in particular, seemed enamoured - he had already learned to use his hands in small swiping motions to navigate the system, a much faster method than eye movement alone. Intrigued, Sakura flicked down her iSight menu and with a few quick motions, pulled up Harper's details. His use of the system was extensive, already almost compulsive. It was a pattern Sakura had seen before - roughly one in fifteen of those new to iSight seemed to lose themselves in the experience, sometimes with unexpected results. As a precaution, with a few eye flicks and hand sweeps, Sakura sent an iSight alert to security suggesting they monitor Harper's usage.

  Sakura turned to the group - all lost in the iSight experience - and motioned for them to follow as she began reciting numbers and facts about the iSight system.

  Skinner looked around at the others and could see no one was listening - they were all experimenting with the iSight system and ignoring Sakura's self-congratulatory praise of the 'world changing technology'. Skinner thought he heard Sakura compare iSight 3 to the invention of the silicon chip and ... what was that? Something about landing on the moon.

  Skinner decided it was probably better that he tuned out. He took his cell phone from his back pocket and waved it at Sakura apologetically. She nodded without missing a beat.

  Skinner dialled and put his phone to his ear, absent-mindedly drifting toward the pond of Koi fish - or the polished concrete floor as Skinner reminded himself.

  The phone rang three times before a deep, rumbling tired-sounding voice answered.

  "Professor. I've been waiting for you to call."

  Skinner could tell the Santa Clara Detective had been sleeping. He quickly checked his phone - damn, almost midnight in California.

  "Hey sorry Steve, I didn't realise I was calling so late. Are you ok to talk?"

  Clark sat up and stretched - working the knots out of his neck and shoulders. He'd fallen asleep on the living room couch after another beer and pizza night. This had become his routine ever since Keisha had left him. Again.

  "Yeah, yeah man - no problem. Do you have something for me?"

  Skinner suddenly felt exposed. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

  "Probably not big man. It's a stretch - but worth checking out."

  "I'll take anything right now Ben - this one makes absolutely no sense to me, and I've got rich people to the left and right screaming that I'm dropping the ball."

  Skinner grimaced. He knew if Clark was complaining, it had to be bad.

  "Ok Steve, this might sound crazy, but can you check if anything matching this M.O went down in the last say... six weeks ... in London, Berlin, Sydney or New York. Oh - and focus on anything a commuting distance from the WhiteStar research centres."

  Clark paused for a second, shaking the cobwebs from his head.

  "What the hell Ben? WhiteStar? The game guys?"

  "Steve, I know it sounds crazy. I'm almost certainly wasting your time - but humour me and take a quick look. We're looking for bizarre behaviour. Unusually violent attacks. Good people gone bad - that sort of thing."

  Clark sounded sceptical. "Ehm. Ok Ben."

  Skinner interjected. "Oh - and the eyes Steve. Anything about the eyes. Red raw, damage to the cornea, self inflicted wounds - that sort of thing."

  Clark stretched and felt his shoulder click. Damn - that thing's never going away - another present from my man Skinner.

  Clark replied slowly, cautiously.

  "Ok Ben, you're not making any sense but I'm going to run with it. Not because I like you, but because I don't. Not because you're smarter than me, because you're not. I'll run with it because I've got nothing better to do here in my Californian paradise. And I'm looking forward to hearing you apologise for wasting my time. Again."

  Skinner smirked at the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sakura
flash him a quizzical look.

  "Thanks Steve. I'm guessing Keisha's dumped you again so what else are you going to do with your time?"

  Clark couldn't help but laugh, a deep, rumbling sound that felt like it echoed in Skinner's ear. "Man, Keisha is just taking some time to thank her lucky stars. You know she gets overwhelmed at the fact she has a man like me. Anyway, that's none of your business Professor - you still owe me for my damn shoulder, and if this doesn't pan out, you'll owe me again. Hope you're ready to pay up egghead."

  "Detective Clark," Skinner smiled as he spoke, "I hope you can find your way past the empty beer bottles and 'Dear John' letters. Let me know if you find anything out. If I've wasted your time, I'll call Keisha and beg her to come back. Can't say fairer than that big man."

  "Alright Ben, leave it with me. I'll head in now. Hard to tell how long this might take, so stay ready."

  "Will do. Thanks again big man." With that, Skinner hung up the call and sidled behind Santos as she trailed Sakura, Harper and Hill around the 'donut' desk.

  Santos turned to Skinner. "Everything ok?"

  For a second, Skinner lost his train of thought as he looked into Santos' big brown eyes, her black hair drifting over her brown skin.

  "Ehm - yeah. Yeah. All good - just chatting to our Californian linebacker."

  Santos nodded. For some reason, Skinner didn't want to mention Clark by name.

  "How's he doing?"

  Skinner responded lightly, "Oh fine, fine. He's off to practice his Hail Marys."

  Santos nodded. Skinner had introduced her to the big detective a few months ago after a WhiteStar visit in Palo Alto. He'd looked her up and down, turned to Skinner and said, "Man - let me break it to you gently. She's so far out of your league even I'm not laughing."

  Skinner had stammered something about 'just colleagues', and that was when Santos knew how he felt.

  Santos was aware that Skinner considered Steve Clark to be hands down the best he'd ever worked with. She knew Skinner wouldn't waste the big man's time.

  If Skinner was talking to Steve, he was on to something.

  #

  11am Thursday, Tanaka's Quarters, Sapporo (Minus 4 Hours)

  Reclining into a deep red leather chair, one of a dozen dotted around a central open flame fire in his sprawling penthouse on the sixth floor, Tanaka replayed in his mind the deeply troubling update he'd just received from Mrs Lahm, Director of Operations in WhiteStar's Berlin centre.

  After arriving in his luxurious apartment, Tanaka had returned an urgent call from the German director using the iSight network's VR calling service. As an image of the director floated a few feet in front of him, Tanaka listened quietly as the sombre middle-aged woman described the early reports of yet another random and vicious attack seemingly carried out by a member of the iSight 3 test team.

  "There are several contradictions and gaps in the emerging reports Mr Tanaka, but as we understand it, this involves one of our more experienced testers. Someone who's shown no earlier signs of..." the director paused for a moment, "...agitation."

  Impatiently, Tanaka interrupted.

  "Tell me about this woman."

  "Well sir, our files show her to be a mother of two young children - a work-at-home chartered accountant in her mid-thirties."

  The director could hear Tanaka groan at the mention of children.

  She continued. "The woman left the research centre fifteen minutes after a two hour game iSight 3 testing session."

  She waited for any feedback from Tanaka but instead was greeted with silence. After a moment, she continued.

  "Mr Tanaka sir, the reports are preliminary and have come through a friend of the company, I am afraid to say that it appears very likely that a little over an hour later after returning home the woman bludgeoned to death her husband and both young children. Police answering a neighbour's report shot her dead as she attacked them with two large kitchen knives. The local police have described the woman as appearing 'deranged and incoherent'. And sir, our source tells us that the skin around her eyes was shredded. Skin under her fingernails indicates the wounds to be self inflicted."

  "What's happening there now?"

  "The police have secured the area and forensic teams are investigating. It won't be long until we are contacted by the authorities. How do you want me to respond?"

  Tanaka barked back. "Listen to me Director Lahm. Our position is clear. There is no evidence - absolutely none - that this tragic accident has anything at all to do with the game. If anyone suggests otherwise we will use all the resources at our disposal to protect our name. It's a coincidence - nothing more. The woman is one of thousands around the world testing the game every single day - so it's inevitable with such a large number that the occasional misfortune might befall one of our testers."

  Stefani Lahm, WhiteStar's Berlin-based Director of Operations, had been a successful executive at a multinational Internet giant before Tanaka had lured her to WhiteStar with the promise of a twenty-million dollar bonus the moment iSight 3 reached half a billion users. Lahm knew the iSight franchise well enough to know that would happen within weeks.

  Stefani Lahm sat alone in her plush office on the fifth floor of the WhiteStar Berlin office listening to Tanaka twist and bend the truth. She shook her head mournfully as Tanaka spoke. Her hands were trembling. She felt as if she would throw up at any moment.

  Four years ago Lahm had divorced her physically abusive husband, and since then balanced the life of a busy executive with single-handedly raising her daughter. Lahm had poured love onto her timid young daughter. Together they helped each other erase the emotional scars long after the physical scars faded away. Lahm had planned to retire on the money from the iSight 3 launch and dedicate her time to raising her daughter, travelling and healing together.

  Until three weeks ago, everything was on track.

  Until the bizarre suicide of an iSight game tester.

  He was an electrician, in his early thirties and engaged to be married a few weeks later. He'd taken part in several game play scenarios without a break. He'd then calmly walked from the WhiteStar research centre, driven into downtown Berlin, over the pedestrian walkway and into the River Spree. Divers reported his set belt was unbuckled, but there was no sign of any attempt to escape.

  "But sir, what about the incident three weeks ago?"

  Tanaka sounded almost distracted in his response. "Incident? You mean the suicide? A tragic story of course, but it's the sort of sad incident that can strike anywhere."

  The director started to reply, but Tanaka interrupted her immediately.

  "I have notified Yui Sakura of this unfortunate incident. She will take the lead on all media enquiries. Other than expressing your sympathy, you are to make no other statement. Direct all enquiries to Miss Sakura."

  Tanaka's image disappeared, the iSight meeting clearly over.

  Stefani Lahm lurched to her side, grabbed the waste basket under her desk and vomited. She retched several times before finally, slowly, sitting back in her seat while dabbing her mouth with tissues.

  Her teenage daughter had been a volunteer iSight 3 for the last two months.

  #

  11am Thursday, Level Four Systems, Sapporo (Minus 4 Hours)

  Energised by their experiences in the visitors' quarters and the even-more remarkable lobby, Skinner, Santos, Harper and Hill were eager to see more. As Harper had mentioned to Skinner in the elevator, their enthusiasm to discover more was matched by their beautiful hostess's eagerness to get it all over with.

 

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