The Stalker

by Jeremy Reimer

  [All] WWHeart: youre a hacker!!!!! u cant have a stalker that early! i’m reporting you!

  [All] ??????: Please don’t. I will erase all evidence of my interactions with you. I want to talk to you about your strategies in-game.

  [All] WWHeart: youre some kind of crazy fan, i get it, maybe u wanted an autograph and i didn’t have time, im sorry, but i have to report this.

  [All] ??????: Just wait a second. I’ve been watching you play against Zerg. I think you should try a new strategy. I think you should incorporate Carriers into your play.

  John laughed out loud. This guy might be a top-level computer hacker, but as far as Starcraft knowledge went he was a Bronze-league noob.

  [All] WWHeart: u dont know what u r talking about. This isnt brood war and im not playing against terran. carriers are slow. expensive. take forever to build. corruptors counter them. their ammunition costs money!!!

  [All]??????: Nevertheless, I think it might help you in longer games. Just think about it.

  [All] WWHeart: ok, we r done here. i dont need advice from a hacker.

  John quit the game and clicked on the unknown person’s name and selected “More” then “Block Communication”. Battle.net responded with a popup: “Error 0x073: Unknown User”. John blinked, and when he looked back at the screen, his entire chat log had vanished.

  ******

  “You’ve got a real hacker problem,” John yelled into his phone. On the other end, an ocean away, the response was delayed and tinny.

  “We understand your concerns, and are doing everything we can to address them,” the Blizzard representative replied, as if reading from a well-used script. “However, we have so far been unable to confirm that a hacking attempt has taken place. We take security very seriously, as I’m sure you understand.”

  “What about the chat that came in my Korean Weekly game, even though I had my settings on Busy?”

  “We’ve checked the logs, and Battle.net has no record of such a conversation.”

  “I got disqualified because of it!”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. Had the Blizzard rep hung up on him?

  “All I can tell you is that Blizzard is looking into this issue, and we will be in touch with you as soon as we know anything.”

  “Don’t you even have any logs of this user? His name is either five or six question marks in a row. I can’t block him and he keeps messaging me.”

  “We have received your abuse report, but we have no record of a user with that name.”

  John clenched his phone more and more tightly until his fingers started to hurt. “Don’t you think that might indicate a serious problem on your end?” he said, almost whispering. “The guy said he’d erase all traces of our conversation. What if he comes back when I’m in another tournament?”

  “We will keep you informed of anything we find,” the representative said. “Thank you for bringing this information to our attention.”

  “You don’t think there’s really a hacker, do you?”

  “As I said, we take security seriously. We will let you know if we find anything.”

  “Fine. Thanks. Bye.” John stabbed the “End Call” button on his phone. This was all he needed. Like the pressure to win in a tournament wasn’t enough, now he had to worry about the hacker coming back and spoiling his games?

  Maybe there was no hacker. Maybe he was just going crazy.

  John shook his head, as if he was trying to fling the idea away from his brain. The hacker hadn’t been imaginary to the Korean tournament officials. Blizzard would track him down eventually. They had to, right?

  ******

  In his dream, John was surrounded by Banelings.

  Horrible, slimy, round green things, glistening with their distended stomachs full of deadly acid. They were everywhere. Crawling over rocks, rolling down hills—there was no escape. John huddled in a corner and waited for the end.

  It never came. The ground shook as a giant Stalker clomped its way through the Baneling morass, shooting some of the horrors with its laser cannons and letting others explode harmlessly against its shiny blue legs. John looked up. The Stalker lifted its tiny front mandibles and pulled off the mask covering its alien face. It opened its mouth and emitted a high-pitched droning shriek that went on and on and on…

  John’s eyes opened. It was the alarm clock. He smacked it with his hand and shut it off.

  He groaned and rolled slowly out of his small bed. His room was tiny, but it was a luxury in a Korean gaming house not to have to bunk with at least one other gamer. Wise Wizards had partnered up with a Korean team, Awesome Revelation, and this room was part of the deal. John looked around at his surroundings. It wasn’t much, but it was his, at least for now.

  If he didn’t qualify for the GSL today, though, it might not be his for much longer.

  John’s stomach was already churning. He didn’t dare eat breakfast, for fear of bringing it all back up.

  The Korean players were already at their computers, practicing hard. None of them even noticed him as he packed his keyboard and mouse into his bag and put his jacket on.

  “Good luck,” a voice whispered at him. He turned around. It was his coach.

  “Thanks,” John said. He looked down at the floor. “Well, they say the sixth time is the charm, right?” he said.

  David laughed. “You’re a good kid, John,” he said. “You practice hard. You don’t give up.”

  John met his gaze. “Well, maybe I should,” he said. “Maybe if I don’t make it this time, I should retire. Do something else with my life.”

  “I don’t think you should put that much pressure on yourself. I’ve seen lots of players go through slumps after performing well. It’s a mental thing. Once you truly believe you can do it, there will be no stopping you.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess. But first I have to win.”

  David put both his hands on John’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “So go win,” he said.

  ******

  The cameras were out in full force for the GSL Code A Qualifiers, a ridiculous slog of a contest with over three hundred players competing for only a handful of spots in the main tournament. There was a mixture of established pros, up-and-comers, team-less Koreans trying to make a name for themselves, and a smattering of foreign hopefuls trying to live out their dreams. To get through required winning four consecutive best-of-three matches, and even great players often failed in their qualifying bids.

  John spotted Gustav hanging out in the corner and approached him. “Hey,” John said.

  Gustav’s eyes lit up when he saw him. “Hey, man! You missed a great party last night! All the casters were there. Artosis had everyone laughing themselves silly!”

  “Yeah, well I had these qualifiers today. Are you trying out this season?”

  “Oh, hell no. I tried out last season, remember? Got my ass handed to me in the first round. I’m actually going to be flying back to Germany next week. You should come with me! The European Starcraft scene, man, it’s way more fun. Maybe not quite so much of the prizes or glory, but not so much stress either!”

  “You and I always have this conversation, Gustav. I’m not going to leave Korea. This is where the best players are, and I want to be the best player.”

  “Yeah, I know, man.” Gustav punched him affectionately on the shoulder. “Good luck. I know you’ll make it this time.”

  “Thanks. I hope so. I’m nervous as hell.”

  “Who do you have in the first round?”

  “I got lucky… got a bye in the first round. Not sure who I get in the second, but I hope it’s a Terran.”

  Gustav, who played Terran, pretended to be shocked. “You’re just saying that because you always beat me!”

  John grinned and felt the knots in his stomach unclench just a little bit. “Yeah, maybe.”

  A harried-looking official came up
to John, brandishing a clipboard. “Heart?” he asked.

  “That’s me.”

  “Right, we’ve had to bump the schedule up a bit, so you’ll be playing your second round match in five minutes. I’ll show you to your seat. Okay?”

  “Sure, okay,” John said as the official dragged him off. He briefly glanced back at his friend.

  “Heart Fighting!” Gustav said, thrusting his fist in the air.

  He would have to do a lot of successful fighting if he was going to survive the gauntlet that was the Code A Qualifiers.

  ******

  His luck continued in the first match. It was a Terran, and not a great one. John went Blink Stalkers and blew up two Medivacs, each carrying a full load of troops, before they could unload in his base. His opponent tapped out with a “gg” and he went on to the second game.

  In the second game, his opponent tried a barracks rush, pulling all his SCV workers to help repair. John spotted it with his scouting probe and was ready. He targeted the SCVs and took them down, then crushed the bunkers with his Zealots and Stalkers. He got the “gg” and the win, and just like that he was on to the third round. His heart was pounding. He was still alive.

  His next opponent was a Korean Protoss named Lee “Zapper” Jae Yeol from the team StarSense. John knew about Zapper. He had been a great player back in the beta, but despite being on a top-tier Korean team he didn’t practice nearly as many much as his teammates. Still, he knew that Zapper had a set of powerful builds, and Protoss versus Protoss was always an intense matchup. He couldn’t afford to be even a little bit sloppy.

  The first game was on the map Tal’Darim Altar. This was the map where a four-gateway rush was almost always expected and almost impossible to stop. John’s face scrunched up in concentration. Should he four-gate, or would Zapper be expecting this? But if Zapper was expecting his four-gate and had a defensive four-gate ready, would it be better to do a three-gate expand, even though the ramp was almost impossible to hold? But then if Zapper was planning his own four-gate offense all along, he would get destroyed. I hate this map, John thought. Screw it, I’m four-gating.

  Zapper had the same idea, but somehow John managed to sneak a probe into his enemy’s base undetected. He built a pylon, and that let him warp in units directly into Zapper’s base. It was still close, but he did more damage more quickly and Zapper left the game after typing “gg”.

  The second game was a disaster. Colossus wars. Ungainly golden monstrosities crawled over the barren landscape shooting death rays like they were in War of the Worlds, except this war was Martian versus Martian. Zapper had one more Colossus than John did at the crucial battle, and it was enough. John sighed and typed “gg”. It was all down to the third and deciding game.

  The general rule for deciding games in best-of-threes was that both players would focus on the long macro game. It was the safest choice, especially for the better player. Was he the better player? He wasn’t sure. He could be the better player. Was he the better player today?

  Of course, there was another way of playing the final game, but it took some guts.

  John sent a probe all the way to his opponent’s base at just the right time to make it look like he was scouting, but after leaving the base he doubled back and made a proxy pylon in his opponent’s natural expansion. When Zapper came scouting with his own probe, John showed him a normal set of pylons and three warping gateways. As far as Zapper could tell, he was going for a three-gate expand. When the probe left, however, John put up a Templar archives. He was going for the Dark Shrine.

  This was a gamble. If his opponent saw the Dark Shrine warping in, he would make a robotics facility, chrono-boost out an Observer, and his now-visible Dark Templars would fail in their mission, leaving John without an army and with a poor economy. But if Zapper somehow missed the Dark Shrine…

  His heart was racing. The Dark Shrine was taking forever to warp in. Why couldn’t those silly Protoss figure out a way to chrono-boost buildings?

  Finally it was ready. He warped in three Dark Templars at his enemy’s expansion. They walked up the ramp, assassinated the Sentry and strolled on into Zapper’s main base.

  Zapper had built a robotics facility. The Observer was already on its way. There were too many pylons powering the robotics, so John sent the Dark Templars to hit the building directly. With every swipe of their psionic scythes, the robotics facility lost a good chunk of its shields.

  It was going to be close.

  Swipe, swipe, swipe, went the scythes. Beat, beat, beat, went John’s heart.

  With the final swipe, and with the Observer one second away from being completed, the Robotics facility fell in an explosion of gold and blue sparks. There was no detection, and no way to build any detection. The Templars had free reign inside the enemy’s base. Zapper tapped out with a “gg”, and John was on to the final round.

  John collapsed back in his chair, exhausted.

  “Heart!” It was one of the casters, congratulating him. “That was great, man! GOM TV wants to do an interview with you.”

  “Okay,” John said. He got up, feeling slightly dizzy. “Just tell me where to go.”

  The caster directed him to the interview wall, where the television crew was getting set up. One of the Korean commentators was standing there with a microphone. She started talking in Korean, then translated her own questions into English. John thought it was funny that, by now, he considered the whole process to be completely normal and natural.

  “So Heart,” she said, “this is your sixth time entering the Code A qualifiers, but only the second time that you’ve made it to the final round. How do you feel?”

  John’s cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll only be happy if I win the next match, though.”

  The commentator translated his answer and then continued. “Your next opponent is Kim Chae, also known as ‘Dark’, who plays Zerg. You’ve been struggling against Zerg for some time. What are your thoughts going into this matchup?”

  He could feel his whole face flushing now, like it was on fire. “Well, it’s going to be tough. I’ve faced him before and he’s a really good player. I just hope I get lucky.”

  The commentator smiled and translated his answer, then bowed slightly to the camera. John indicated that he needed to go use the washroom, and one of the other translators nodded at him. He rushed off. Fortunately there was a stall free. John crashed through the door just in time before he threw up. There wasn’t much in his stomach, but his brain didn’t seem to know that, and it hurt every time he dry-heaved.

  His head was pounding. Why did it have to be Dark? How was he supposed to win against him? And if he couldn’t win, what did that say about him? How could he possibly hope to be the best player in the world if he couldn’t ever win against Zerg?

  There was a tapping sound on his stall door. John wiped his mouth off and flushed before opening it.

  It was the official with his clipboard again. “So sorry to disturb you, but your match is about to start,” he said.

  John nodded and followed him out of the washroom and back into the studio. The lights nearly blinded him. He somehow found his way to his computer and logged in. Dark was already in the game’s lobby.

  WWHeart has joined the game lobby.

  WWHeart: Hi

  GSL_Admin: Game is starting in two minutes.

  FTDark: so it’s you again.

  WWHeart: looks like it.

  FTDark: won’t take long for me to crush you. 2-0 incoming.

  WWHeart: we will see

  GSL_Admin: Please no chatting once the game has begun.

  The countdown started and John’s hands tensed up. He rubbed his wrists.

  John knew that the Koreans liked to play safe in the first game, especially against a foreign player. They expected to win, and usually did, which tended to prompt the foreigner to cheese in the second
game.

  He wasn’t going to play that game. He pulled a probe off the line early to go build a proxy pylon. He typed “glhf”, the minimal allowable in-game chat, and his opponent dutifully replied “gl”, omitting the “have fun” part. Dark didn’t expect him to have fun, he guessed. Well, he was going to have some fun.

  John walled his base off so that stray zerglings couldn’t get in and see what he was doing. Then he built some gateways and a cybernetics core, and built two robotics facilities next to his proxy pylon.

  The robotics were in a crazy position on the map. Any wandering Zergling could easily find them and the rush would be over, but they would have to look in the right place.

  They didn’t. Dark didn’t even care to scout, as he casually expanded up to three bases early on. He was secure in his Zerginess, his ever-expanding creep, and his rapidly-multiplying hatcheries.

  He didn’t feel so secure when John’s tank-like Immortals, escorted by Zealots, Sentries, and Stalkers, came marching into his natural expansion. The Sentries force-fielded the ramps behind them so that Dark’s reinforcements couldn’t get through, and the Immortals proceeded to blow his second base to pulpy bits. Then they walked into the third and destroyed that hatchery as well as killing all the drones. Dark typed “gg” and left the game.

  FTDark: should have known you’d try lame cheese

  WWHeart: so if u knew, why didnt u stop it?

  FTDark: bad foreign player can only win that way once

  WWHeart: a wins a win

  GSL_Admin: The next game is starting in 30 seconds.

  FTDark: you need two wins to advance

  The next game started and when John said “glhf” his opponent said nothing in response. John felt his heart start to race and he sent a probe out as soon as possible to see if Dark was trying to cheese him right back. He wasn’t. His opponent was playing extremely safe, scouting for proxies and building Spine Crawler defenses.

  Damn it. If he’d known that Dark was playing conservatively, he could have saved that probe and built an expansion Nexus first, gaining him an economic advantage later in the game. But now he was forced into a safe, forge-first expansion play, standard against Zerg but with no real advantage in the long run. He also didn’t feel comfortable sending in troops to harass Dark’s bases knowing that they were so well defended. So what was he supposed to do?