Hawk sighed and stood up again. “I’m not learning much from this. Is it possible for us to see a functioning server complex of identical layout?”
I was startled that Hawk had been thinking the same thing as me. Everyone turned and walked back to the gap in the force field, and then there was a brief delay as our escorts conferred with a couple of the Game Techs’ droids. Apparently only Game Techs and authorized maintenance crews were allowed to visit server complexes. Given the circumstances, the Game Techs were willing to make an exception for Hawk as the player representative, and Nathan and I as his assistants, but they weren’t willing to include the Unilaw deputation.
Eventually a four-seater buggy rolled up. The Game Tech droid in the front seat had a face with silver insignia on his cheeks. Hawk sat next to him, Nathan and I climbed into the back seat, and Hawk’s fan club watched sadly as we drove off down a path.
“Can you please explain the local geography?” asked Hawk.
Our driver answered the question, using the standard formal speech of Game Techs. “Server complexes are always located in remote areas with low tectonic activity, no extreme weather conditions, and no risk of flooding. For security reasons, each server complex is at a distance from any other structure and protected by a force field. In this particular area, we have a cluster of a dozen server complexes.”
I frowned and looked round. There were twelve server complexes in this area. The Avalon server complex was behind us. I could see the force field of another server complex directly ahead of us, which must be our destination. There was what might be another force field over to our right, but it was a long way away.
“So twelve Game worlds are run from this area, and the one nearest the transport stop was bombed?”
I said the words without thinking, and instantly realized that I shouldn’t have spoken in front of a Game Tech. I cringed as I waited for a rebuke, but the Game Tech response was emotionless.
“That is correct.”
Hawk twisted round in his seat to look back at me, “That’s a good point, Jex. It’s possible Avalon was targeted for a specific reason, but it could have been randomly chosen because it’s close to a transport stop.”
There was silence for the next few minutes. Once we arrived at our destination server complex, the Game Tech droid tapped the controls on the buggy, and an opening appeared in the force field ahead of us. The buggy moved inside, and I saw four small grey buildings standing on bare fused rock. The Game Tech parked the buggy by the buildings, and we all climbed down from our seats.
Hawk looked round eagerly. “Fascinating to think this runs one of our Game worlds.” He turned to the Game Tech. “You used some sort of security code to get us inside this force field?”
“That is correct.”
“The bombs at the Avalon server complex had been planted inside its force field. That means the bomber had got hold of the Avalon force field security code. Who has access to those codes?”
“Only Game Techs and the maintenance crews making weekly inspections.”
Hawk walked up to the nearest building and peered at the sign on the door. “This server complex runs Destiny Game world, a world created about the same time as Avalon. I suppose all the worlds run by server complexes in this cluster will date from about the same time.”
He turned to look at the Game Tech droid. “How long does the gap in the force field stay open?”
“Two minutes,” said the Game Tech. “Maintenance crews take longer than that to do their work, so they have to open the force field again to leave.”
“And how often are the force field security codes changed?”
“Err ... I’m not sure that ...” The calm face displayed on the droid suddenly looked wary, and his formally standardized Game Tech speech pattern faltered.
“Are they ever changed?” demanded Hawk.
“Possibly not,” said the Game Tech.
Hawk’s voice developed an edge that could cut diamonds. “In the light of the recent bombing, I strongly suggest that all force field security codes are changed immediately.”
The Game Tech nodded hastily. “I will arrange for them to be changed.”
“Is a record kept when someone requests a security code?”
“I will investigate the possibility of recording such requests in future.”
“You do that while my assistants and I take a look around the server complex.” Hawk led the way into the nearest building, raised his eyes to the grey ceiling, and began chanting. “One, two, three, four, five ...”
Nathan and I exchanged looks of bewilderment.
“...six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” Hawk continued, and then abruptly exploded in anger. “Bleeping idiots! The Game Techs run a dozen Game worlds from this area. There are no guards or surveillance cameras, just a maintenance crew riding round on a buggy once a week. The only defence is the force fields, controlled by security codes they never change. They don’t even keep a record of who has those codes. Do you believe that?”
He turned to Nathan and me, and we hastily shook our heads. Hawk’s ranting didn’t seem to be directed at us, but we daren’t risk saying a word.
“Perhaps it’s understandable that they’ve grown sloppy after hundreds of years without trouble,” said Hawk. “I hope the Unilaw lot can handle this situation better than the Game Techs though or we’re all totally in the ...”
He broke off and gave us a guilty look. “Sorry if I’ve been yelling a bit. It’s not constructive for me to swear at a Game Tech, but I needed to let off a bit of steam.”
“It’s all right,” I said cautiously. “We don’t even know what bleeping means.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t. I’m four hundred years out of date. More than four hundred years in the case of the swearing, because I learned most of my swear words from Pendragon. He was the eldest of the Founder Players when we entered Game, and it amused him to use swear words that were old fashioned even in his youth. Bleeping is an especial joke of his, because it refers to when they used to bleep out genuine swear words from a recording.”
He paused. “Back to work now. There seems surprisingly little in this building.”
Nathan and I exchanged furtive glances, and reached a silent agreement. Hawk seemed to have calmed down but we should still tread extremely warily. Hawk was certainly right about there not being very much in this building. There was just a blank screen on the wall, a pedestal holding a small white box, and an even smaller black box at its base. Nothing else.
Nathan peered at the white box. “I think the code on the label means this is the main Destiny world server. Each of the other buildings will hold a backup server that mirrors this one, and any of them could keep the Destiny world running.”
He knelt to examine the black box. “This is an emergency power unit. If the normal power supply failed, the emergency power could keep things running for months.”
Hawk was staring at the white box. “That little box runs Destiny Game world. Millions of players live there, but that box is so small I could tuck it under my arm and walk away. I’m glad I don’t need sleep any longer. If I slept, I’d have nightmares about little white boxes. Somewhere out there is a little white box with me inside it.”
He stood there looking round for a moment longer, and finally led us out of the building. We glanced inside the three other buildings, but they were all exactly the same. When we finished and headed back to the buggy, the Game Tech’s droid came to meet us, his face still looking wary.
“All force field security codes have now been changed. Future requests for security codes from maintenance teams will need to be authorized by a gold status Game Tech and will be recorded on an audit trail. When a security code is given, it will only be valid for two minutes before being automatically changed.”
“Thank you,” said Hawk. “As the representative of the player community, I appreciate your rapid response to my concerns.”
The Game Tech face cheered up slightly
.
“I have another issue that I’d like to discuss with you,” added Hawk. “The fact that all four servers supporting a Game world are at the same physical location makes them very vulnerable to a deliberate attack. Is there any way that you can spread out the servers at different locations?”
“The current system was instituted after the Rhapsody disaster,” said the Game Tech. “At that time, it was a matter of extreme urgency to provide the quadruple interlinked redundancy that could cope with any conceivable sort of future mechanical breakdown. The simplest and fastest method was to have all four servers at the same physical location. In the light of this bombing, we are already drawing up plans to change the system so each world is supported by servers at multiple locations, however it could take several years to make those changes.”
Hawk frowned. “Why would it take so long?”
“Interlinking servers at different locations is more complex,” said the Game Tech, “and changing the server configuration of an active Game world could cause the exact problem we are attempting to prevent.”
“You mean that making the changes could cause more world crashes?”
“That is correct,” said the Game Tech. “The only safe way to make these changes to a Game world is to evacuate the world, shut it down completely, and then bring it back with the new server configuration.”
Hawk groaned. “Yes, I can see why going through that process with two thousand Game worlds would take years. I’d now like another look at the bomb site.”
We climbed on to the buggy, the Game Tech opened a gap in the force field again to let us out, and we trundled our way back to the Avalon server complex. Hawk made a detailed inspection of the four craters, and Nathan and I dutifully followed him round, looking at every item of twisted wreckage. At one point, Hawk dropped to his knees to touch a white fragment.
“Whether I sleep or not, I’m definitely going to have nightmares about white boxes,” he muttered. “Looking at that, and thinking ...”
He stood up and went to where the Game Tech was waiting. “What is the current situation of the Avalon population?”
“The first priority was to return them to Game as fast as possible,” said the Game Tech. “We were aware that their situation was uncomfortable.”
“Yes,” said Hawk, “it would have been uncomfortable, thrown out of Game without a second of warning, and trapped in a freezer unit coffin. Eleven thousand, two hundred, and ninety seven people died that way.”
The Game Tech winced. “Not only do all Game Techs feel a deep sense of responsibility for those deaths, but many of our own people were caught in the Avalon world crash and several died.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Hawk shook his head. “I’m upset seeing this, but I shouldn’t forget it’s just as painful for you. You got the population of Avalon back into Game as fast as you could. What happened to them after that?”
“Initially, we loaded them into random under-populated worlds. Once the news broke about the Avalon world crash, all Game worlds responded by offering full visitation rights to Avalon refugees, so they were able to use standard Game world transfer requests to go to other worlds of their choice.”
“So the Avalon refugees are still scattered as guests on other worlds?” asked Hawk.
“That is correct.”
“Will it be possible for you to restore Game world Avalon?”
“We have already set up one of our reserve server complexes using the central Avalon world structure rolling backup. Running a full world integrity stress test took less than an hour, so we could reopen Avalon at any time and its residents could request Game world transfer home.”
The Game Tech hesitated. “Game officials have made no announcement about this, because we are unsure whether the Avalon population will wish us to restore their world or not. We do not wish to cause any offence by making the wrong decision.”
The Game Tech face on the droid tried to look impassive, but there was some emotion hidden under the surface. It took me a moment to work out that he was scared. It seemed incredible that one of the self-effacing but all-powerful officials who created and ran the Game could be scared, but these were unique circumstances. There were fifty billion deeply distressed players in Game, and they were looking for an outlet for their anger. One wrong word from one of the Game Techs, and all that pent up fury would find a target.
Hawk looked at the face on the droid, and seemed to see what I’d seen, because he nodded. “It might be best if I handle this in my role of player representative. I can make a broadcast asking the Avalon survivors to vote on whether their world should return or be left to rest in peace. Would you be able to arrange for the voting to open immediately after my announcement?”
“That is correct,” said the Game Tech.
“If the Avalon residents want their world back,” added Hawk, “then it might make a lot of people, including me, feel happier if you could put armed guards on that new server complex.”
“The new Avalon server complex is already being guarded,” said the Game Tech.
“Thank you,” said Hawk. “I expect the Avalon residents will want some form of memorial to honour their dead, but there’s no need to rush a decision on that.”
“Whatever memorials are asked for by the population of Avalon will naturally be arranged according to their wishes,” said the Game Tech.
“That’s settled then,” said Hawk.
He went back over to the huddle of Unilaw officers. “You’ve all been most helpful. I have to go now, but Romulus and Remus have agreed to help analyze the wreckage, and their controlled droids should be with you shortly.”
Leaving was a slow process, since all the fans wanted to say a word of admiration and farewell, but we finally made it back to our carriage. Hawk slumped into a seat, Nathan and I sat down as well, and the carriage accelerated briefly, only to start slowing again and stop at the next transport stop.
“I don’t know where to go,” said Hawk, “but I had to get out of that place before I cracked. Much longer and I’d have either started crying or shouting at someone.”
I stared at him, too startled to reply. He was talking like a very vulnerable human being who was overloaded by distress, but surely Hawk couldn’t feel like that. Hawk was a glittering, unassailable legend who could cope with anything.
“I’ve just realized the enormity of what I’ve taken on here,” he said. “I’ve fought against devastating monsters, I’ve led armies on Civil War, but that was all literally a game. Hunting down this bomber is real. Over eleven thousand people are already dead. If there’s another attack, thousands more people may die, and their deaths would be my fault.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I have to leave for a while now,” said Hawk.
I was disconcerted. “You’re leaving?”
“I’ll need to have all my attention in Game while I make the broadcast about the vote for the future of Avalon.” Hawk groaned. “I hate giving speeches. I’ll be back in ... I’ll be back after however long this takes.”
Hawk finished speaking, and the droid body abruptly changed back to a blank anonymous gold shape and sat inertly in its seat. Nathan went across and waved his hand in front of its head. There was no response.
“He’s gone.” Nathan stated the obvious.
Chapter Six
Nathan put his finger to his lips, tiptoed to the door, and stepped out of the carriage. Once outside, he turned and beckoned to me. I looked at him in bewilderment, and he beckoned again.
I sighed and followed him out of the carriage. I found myself at a transport stop that was identical to the last one. No, not quite identical. The platform here was completely featureless, without either a vending machine or a delivery trolley hub.
Nathan put his finger to his lips again, and led the way across the platform and out into the surrounding grassland. There were concrete paths similar to those at the last transport stop, but Nathan ignored them, choosing to wade t
hrough the waist-high grass until he reached a large rock and sat on it.
I sighed again, and sat next to him on the rock. “Why have we come out here?”
“While we were in the body stacks, our buggies were recording every word we said. Once Hawk arrived, that fancy, anti-surveillance droid of his was probably blocking the buggies from recording us, but he was listening to us himself. Out here in the wilds, we can speak freely at last.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak freely. I stared round at the countryside, noting the distant glow of a server complex force field over to our right. “Are you sure this rock doesn’t have a spy device in it?”
Nathan jumped up and examined the rock. “We could move on a bit further if you think it’s suspicious.”
“Nathan,” I said, in a pitying voice, “I was joking about the rock.”
“Oh.” He sat down again. “I can’t believe what’s happened. One minute life was perfectly normal, and then everything was smashed to pieces.”
“Yah,” I said miserably.
“I know it’s even worse for you,” said Nathan. “You’ve lost your father.”
“At least I had a proper parent for eighteen years,” I said, “while you’ve never really had a parent at all. I’ve still got my mother too. At least, I hope I have.”
My phone was in my pocket. It was set to silent mode, but I knew I wouldn’t have missed it vibrating for an incoming message. I took it out anyway. There was no flashing light.
I put the phone back in my pocket. “Still no message from my mother. That’s not a good sign.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t know that your father is dead,” said Nathan. “He wasn’t an Avalon resident, so she wouldn’t expect him to have been caught up in the world crash.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
“You could try calling her,” said Nathan doubtfully. “I know we’re expected to wait for parents to call us, not call them ourselves, but this is a very special case.”
I shook my head. “I daren’t risk it. I could have called my father in a situation like this, but not my mother. My relationship with her is ... Well, it’s difficult.”
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