Lohkam spread his arm to point at the other three teams in the ready room; they weren’t even bothering to put on their wraps. “They aren’t worried about being shamed. It’s a stupid game anyway. They can get us out of their hair and try for the wildcard spot.”
Lohkam’s crew just nodded in agreement and looked at him quietly.
“Fine. I’ll talk to him,” Lohkam said. He stood up and sauntered over to Billy.
“Need a minute, Billy,” Lohkam said.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I hear you’re gonna go ahead and capture a tree.”
“Yeah, sorry, but we gotta get one.”
Lohkam nodded. “Sounds like a great plan.” He said. “The price seems a bit steep, but I’m sure you can do something else once you’re out of the Facility.”
Billy frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Lohkam pointed towards his team. “See my crew over there?”
“Yeah.”
“You notice the tank isn’t our regular one?”
“I do,” Billy said.
“The one joining us today is sick of games,” Lohkam said. “He can’t wait to get out of here. So I told him I could help him out.”
“How you gonna do that?”
“He wants to enter Weapons Facility. It’s violent and physical, not something I would want to sign up for, but some kids just like to go that way.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Billy said.
“If he busts someone up bad, and I mean real bad, then he’ll use up his last warning here and get kicked from the facility. Then he can go ahead and apply to Weapons.”
Billy didn’t say anything. He was sizing up the tank, who was smiling in Billy’s direction with a cruel look on his face.
“Anyone who walks onto that field today with wraps on their hands and isn’t on my team… well, they’re gonna be his main target. He’ll be kicked from the facility, but before he is, it’s gonna get violent. This is his third strike. First strike was because he beat someone so bad the kid had to drop out. His second strike involved paralyzing some poor guy in an accident. They couldn’t prove it was done on purpose, so they could only give him a strike, but I’m here to tell you that he did do it on purpose.”
Billy looked pale and his eyes were wide.
“This is just one stupid little game, Billy, not worth getting hurt over. Definitely not worth losing the use of your legs… or maybe your life, if he gets a bit too carried away.”
Lohkam turned around and began to walk back to his group. “Or maybe it is,” he called back over his shoulder. “I guess that’s just gonna have to be up to you.”
Lohkam got back to his group and stopped, keeping his back to Billy. “What’s he doing?” Lohkam asked.
“He’s taking his wraps off, Lock. Same with the rest of his team. What the hell’d you say to him?”
“Same thing you did,” Lohkam said with a smile. “I just said it better.”
===
Five minutes later, the door opened for the game ‘Monkey See, Monkey Don’t.’ Of the five teams, only one entered the field.
Lohkam and his crew captured one tree, then exited the arena. They walked back into the ready room, which was now empty. They boys laughed at their victory.
“Not as fancy as Brandon’s win,” one of the teammates said.
Lohkam laughed harshly. “It’s a win. No one gets to see how they did it, so maybe our win was more skillful than theirs. That’s the proper way to spin the story.”
“I doubt it. I heard they took four trees,” another said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lohkam snapped. “They won early and we won early. Pretty soon we’ll see who the real winner is. I’d put my money on us, boys.
Chapter 28
Mr. Thorn will see you now.”
Wesley stood up and followed the secretary down the hallway. The door at the end of the hall was open, and the attractive young woman walked to it and entered without knocking. Samson Thorn was sitting at a large, dark wooden desk talking to someone on the phone. He smiled and waved his hand, motioning for Wesley to take a seat across from him. Thorn held up one finger to indicate he would be only another minute, and Wesley nodded.
“I understand, General. Yes, I absolutely agree with that. I’m glad you feel that way. Wesley just walked in for his initial consultation with me, actually. Really? I’ll be sure to tell him.”
Thorn hung up the phone and stood up to reach across the desk. The two men shook hands and sat back down. “Hi, Wesley, I’m Mr. Thorn. I’d prefer to be called Samson, but the General wants it kept formal.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Thorn,” Wesley said. “I’m honoured to have been selected as one of your VR instructors.”
“We’re referring to the virtual reality program as ‘the Sim'.” Thorn said. “I’m glad to have you join us. The General said you’ve been doing a remarkable job with your kids since joining the Game Facility.”
“It was mostly luck on my part,” Wesley said. “I was fortunate enough to get Brandon in my group of kids. He and his team have become very successful.”
“Yes, that’s why you’re able to join the Sim so early,” Thorn confirmed. “The General wants to keep everything in place for Brandon’s Hand. In order for that to happen, we’ll need you to be in there with them.”
“Why not just put a simulation of me in there?” Wesley joked.
Thorn nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps we can work towards that, Wesley. Yes, I bet we could learn enough about you over time to build a very convincing NPC avatar. That’s a great idea, thanks.”
“What’s an NPC?” Wesley asked.
“A Non Player Character,” Thorn said. “A construct that looks like a regular person inside the Sim, but it’s not controlled by a real person outside of the program.”
“You can do that?”
Thorn nodded. “My vision is that someday you won't be able to distinguish between a player controlled avatar and a computer operated NPC. We aren't even close to that yet, but it's a new technology at the moment and there's always a rapid growth curve in the world of computers.” Thorn stood up and walked to the door. “I hope you don’t mind, but the rest of this meeting will be private and confidential. I’ll be asking some sensitive questions to make certain you're worthy of the security clearance required to work in the Sim.”
Wesley nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Thorn closed the door and walked back to his desk. He opened the top right drawer of his desk and flipped a small black switch. Then he typed a command on his keyboard and the monitor showed a view of the hallway directly outside his door. He looked up and nodded to Wesley.
“All right, the room is secure from listening devices and I can see any approach to the office. This may be the most secure talk we’ve ever had.”
Wesley let out a sigh and slumped slightly in his chair. “That’s a relief,” he said. “It’s strange to walk right into your office. Much better than our normal meeting spots over the years of back alleys and greasy spoon restaurants.”
“We play a dangerous game, Wesley, and it’s a true testament to our skills that we haven’t been found out. When I hired you to infiltrate the Centres I never thought you would get so deep into the organization.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to contact you since being assigned to the Game Facility, but they have me living there now, and security is extremely tight.”
Thorn waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad things are going smoothly for you. It would appear that Brandon is everything we hoped he would be.”
“The kid’s remarkable,” Wesley said. “He’s a natural leader, and I can’t get over how creative and swift his mind is.”
“It’s in his genes,” Thorn said. “Everything has gone according to plan. Once we get him inside the Sim, I’ll finally be able to start working with him myself.”
“And the others?”
“Yes, the others as well, altho
ugh they are likely too old to be of use. My best chance for success is with Brandon.”
“The others aren’t that much older,” Wesley said.
“There are laws in our universe that exist and work even though the average person doesn’t know about them,” Thorn said. “Laws like gravity and the generally known laws of physics which we all know about. One of the little known, yet very powerful, laws is called The Law of Imprinting.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Most haven’t, but that doesn’t make it any less real,” Thorn said. “The Law of Imprinting states that whatever a child has become by the time they are ten years of age, is how they will remain for the rest of their lives.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Wesley said.
“You can imprint characteristics onto the psyche of a child between the ages of zero and ten. Manners, cultural preferences, loyalties, traits of all types and sorts.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” Thorn said.
“That sounds a lot like brainwashing.”
Thorn shrugged. “A nicer term is conditioning. To make it sound even less harmless, it’s referred to as ‘raising.’ The primary role of a parent is to raise a healthy, responsible child to follow the laws and rules of the society they live in.”
“Okay, I see what you’re getting at,” Wesley nodded.
“The General understands this law and he’s spent considerable time, money, and effort to raise his orphans in specific ways. By the time each child turns ten they behave exactly how the General wants them to. Children raised by the Centres are not eligible to participate in advanced programs until that age to ensure their complete loyalty to him before they are distracted with any other tasks or training.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” Thorn said. “So the odds of me being able to influence the ten-year-olds in the VR programs is slim, because they are already fully conditioned to be loyal to the General.”
“Brandon is only five.”
“Yes,” Thorn smiled. “The General must be so confident in the program by now that he’s allowed the boy to advance before he should.”
“Dangerous if someone else can take over his imprinting.”
“Who would be so bold?” Thorn asked. “The law is not well known. I’m guessing the General wouldn’t expect someone to infiltrate his secure and protected program to make such an attempt. After so many years of success they must be confident in the security of the entire system. His confidence has merit. It would take a skilled opponent to come along and turn one of his children.”
“Yet that’s exactly what you intend to do.” Wesley said.
Thorn smiled. “I do. The General may be father to thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. If my plan works properly, then I will show him the power that can be gained from being a parent to one special individual.”
Chapter 29
“Don’t worry, kids, we won’t stick you with lots of needles or other nasty things,” the technician said.
Brandon looked around the room. They’d learned that there were two other teams and ten single kids who had also qualified to win their divisions earlier than the rest. The twenty-five kids sat in the room while a technician explained the basics of VR technology to them. Alan looked at Brandon with a grin. They’d talked about getting poked with needles before they got here, and none of them were afraid; a little pain was worth the price of getting to play in the Sim. Besides, it looked like their biggest pain wouldn’t be a needle. Lohkam’s crew had won their age group early too. Brandon had been looking forward to a small break from the bully, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Brandon hoped that inside the Sim they would have an opportunity to face each other.
“At first, we'll only put you into the Sim for a few hours at a time. All we need to do for that is put one tiny intravenous needle into you. We’ll also put sensors on your head and chest, but that doesn’t hurt. The better you do inside the Sim, the longer you get to stay there. Over time there will be a few more things that we need to hook you up to, but by the time that happens I think most of you will be used to the process.”
“When do we get started?” one of the kids asked.
“Right now,” the technician said. “When I call out your names please go stand by the door. An instructor will take you to your table and send you into the Sim for your orientation and alignment session. All questions from now on will be answered inside the Sim by your instructor. If there are any of you who’ve changed your mind and don’t want to play in the Sim, now is the time to speak up.”
The room remained silent as the kids looked at each other with grins on their faces. Everyone wanted to try this.
The technician nodded and began to call out names. The group was broken into three smaller clusters made up of one team and a couple of solo players. Brandon’s group was called first. They stood up together and walked to the door.
The door opened and Brandon smiled when he saw who his instructor was. “Welcome to the Sim, kids,” Wesley said with a grin. “Follow me and we'll get you hooked up and inside as quickly as possible.”
The eight children followed Wesley down a long white hallway. They entered a room with ten silver metal tables positioned inside. Wires and cables extended from the white ceiling to a metal pole standing beside each table. In addition to the wires, there was a bag of clear liquid hanging from each pole.
“Everybody pick a table,” Wesley said. “They look cold and hard but are quite comfortable to lie on.”
The tables were positioned in two groups of five, with one table surrounded by four others. Brandon’s Hand moved to one table cluster. Another kid was standing beside the middle table and one at another, but Tony smiled and waved them away, sweeping his arm towards it and smiling at Brandon as he did so. Brandon nodded and stood beside the centre table. His team mates chose tables surrounding him and they waited for further instructions.
“Everyone lie down on your tables now, please,” Wesley instructed.
Brandon was surprised that the table felt warm and soft. Wesley was right; they were very comfortable.
“Today we’ll be inside the Sim for only a couple of hours. Technicians are coming around now to put the monitors on and stick you with a small needle. Things seem a bit strange at first when you get inside. You will be asked to close your eyes and count backwards from 10. When you get to zero and open your eyes it will seem like nothing has happened, but in fact, you will be in the Sim, in a room that looks exactly like this one — well, not quite exactly. Each of you will be in your own room. Wait there until I come to get you. It won’t take that long, but make sure you just sit there and wait. If any of you have a question, raise your hand and ask it now.”
A moment of silence passed. “All right, then,” he said. “See you in the Sim.”
Brandon looked straight up at the ceiling for a few moments and then he heard someone approach his right side and gently take hold of his bare arm. He felt a slight pinch and guessed that he’d just been stuck with a needle. He breathed a sigh of relief; it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be. A technician leaned in front of Brandon, obstructing his view of the ceiling. The man was wearing a surgical mask, but Brandon could tell he had a pleasant smile on his face from the way his eyes were slightly squinted. “Okay, young man, I’m going to place a small mask on your face in just a moment. When I do that, I want you to close your eyes and start counting backwards from ten down to zero. When you reach zero you can open your eyes. If the transfer works properly there will be no wires attached to you, and I will have disappeared. Good luck, and enjoy your time in the Sim.”
Brandon nodded his head and the mask slowly lowered over his mouth and nose. He closed his eyes and slowly began to count backwards.
He reached zero and waited for another brief moment… then he opened his eyes.
The mask over his face was gone. He turned his head and the technician was no longer in the room.
He sat up slowly and looked around. The room was small; it contained only the table that he’d been lying on and a chair close by. There was a man sitting in the chair looking at him with interest. It wasn’t Wesley.
“Hi,” Brandon said.
“Hello, Brandon,” the man smiled. “Welcome to the Sim.”
“Thanks,” Brandon said. “It looks the same as real life.”
The man nodded. “We built it to look that way. After we get your avatar aligned and running properly, we will show you many new and interesting games. Some will seem like real life, but many will be much more fun than that.”
“Where’s the rest of my team?” Brandon asked.
“They are in rooms like this one. Don’t worry, you’ll see them shortly.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Thorn,” the man said. “I created the Sim.”
“Wow, that’s great,” Brandon said. “Do you meet everyone when they come in here?”
Thorn shook his head. “I don’t meet many souls at all inside the Sim,” he said. “Only a special few get to meet me in here.”
“Oh,” Brandon said. “Well, thanks, then. It’s nice to meet you.”
Thorn stood and walked over to the side of the table. He shook Brandon’s hand. “Of all the people I’ve ever met, Brandon, you are the most powerful one that I’ve seen.”
Brandon wasn’t sure how to reply to such a comment, so he said nothing. Thorn nodded his head and continued. “I know the others won their contests to get inside the Sim early, but you did it better than anyone else. How would you like special training and tips from me during your play in here?”
Brandon couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t need to think about it, he simply blurted out his answer. “Yes, please, Mr. Thorn, I would like to learn as much as you can teach about the Sim.”
Thorn smiled and touched Brandon’s shoulder lightly. “It will be my pleasure, Brandon. And don’t call me Mr. Thorn. It doesn’t seem right for you to call me that.”
Interlude-Brandon (The Game is Life) Page 10
