Gamer Army

by Trent Reedy

  “… and since apathy on the part of our elected representatives is our problem, apathy among us can be no part of the solution. The meeting of two apathetic forces only bolsters and validates the status quo!”

  She paused for applause and paced the stage, nodding to Rogan, not because she could see him very well all the way back where he was sitting, but because her VR system was programmed to alert her when he entered the Forum.

  “Some people in the media have tried to dismiss our digi-space concerns as petty partisan bickering, but the reality is that neither American political party, and very few parties around the world, are taking this seriously enough. They’re too committed to so-called real world initiatives, trying to get people out of digi-space, but failing to understand that the digital world is now a very real part of life. The government has an obligation to maintain a stable internet and hypernet and to protect its citizens here!”

  Louder clapping and a few shouts resounded through the room.

  “These so-called temporary hypernet disruptions, which so many leaders around the world have tried to downplay as simple inconveniences, are in fact devastating. With websites and digi-space offices out for hours or days, important communications disrupted, even family members kept apart, we deserve an explanation of the cause of these disasters and of governments’ efforts to prevent this from happening in the future.

  “Now I want to delineate several action items, some practical ways we can all influence our political …”

  Rogan slipped off his headset. Looks like it’s gonna be another Hot Pocket night. He’d become the master chef of frozen foods and hoped there was another Philly Steak flavor left in the freezer. If there were only plain old pepperoni Hot Pockets left, he’d have to microwave some fish sticks. He couldn’t take any more pepperoni.

  Ten minutes later, he’d scanned his Hot Pocket and PowerSlam energy drink so that he could see his meal with his VR headset on, and returned to his apartment. Wiggles pushed up against him, and he petted him before slipping a VR headset on the dog. Rogan had adapted the extra headset himself so his fuzzy buddy could go with him to his apartment. The dog had resisted it at first, pushing it off every time Rogan had tried to put it on him, until Rogan had supplied enough bacon treats to convince the pup that VR wasn’t such a bad thing.

  Rogan had to be a careful, though. After several bumps into real-world walls, Wiggles had finally figured out what the blue-green Limit of Advance grid meant, but sometimes when he got really excited he forgot, or failed to react fast enough when the grid appeared.

  Calling to his apartment’s computer to play music from the video game soundtrack channel, Rogan sat down to eat and look over his homework. Not for the first time, he was glad to be enrolled in Steve Jobs Middle School in Virtual City, where the entire system was designed like a game, where students didn’t have to wait for the end-of-semester test but could work hard through individualized instruction to see how far, and how fast, they could take their education, with cool bonuses for education achievements unlocked. He’d worked himself light-years beyond minimal proficiency, so now he could also just enjoy his Hot Pocket and watch some gamer vlogs. Either way, he’d probably sleep in his apartment tonight.

  Rogan had stayed all night plenty of times. He loved it, dreaming of the day when he could finally log in and never leave, provided he could figure out how to pay the rent. Other crybaby kids whined for mommy and daddy, but he always prided himself on being just fine on his own.

  Really. He was fine.

  Rogan took a bite as he went over to his window. The Mario Alverez airship glided across the sky, eclipsing most of the very large full moon. Rogan wondered once again how great it would be to have not this little apartment, cool as it was, but an awesome zeppelin, a giant symbol letting everyone know that Rogan wasn’t kidding when he said ego sum maximus. Dad would come up to play video games. Mom would mention the airship in one of her speeches and maybe hold a political rally on board. And as an added bonus, Shaylyn Spero would have no doubt that he was the better gamer.

  The main theme from Super Mario Bros. brought Rogan back from his thoughts. He laughed a little at the primitive old music that he’d set up instead of a doorbell. He’d almost forgotten about it. Nobody ever came to his virtual apartment.

  He turned from the window and smiled. Mom or Dad, maybe?

  A warm hope glowed inside Rogan as he reached for the doorknob. He flung the door open. Then he froze.

  Was this a trick?

  Standing in the hallway were a man and woman he’d never seen before, and between them, William J. Culum.

  The William J. Culum, computer genius, global technology innovator, Virtual City creator, and world-famous founder and CEO of Atomic Frontiers Corporation.

  Weirdly, William Culum did not speak first. Before anything else could happen, Wiggles started barking like mad at the newcomers until Rogan quieted him with a treat. Next, the woman took a step closer. She had long, straight black hair and wore a bright red business dress with gold buttons and crisp shoulders. She and the other two must have been wearing expression monitors, expensive little scanners that fit on each side of the VR headgear to transfer the user’s facial movements to her avatar. She smiled brightly. “Rogan Webber?”

  Rogan nodded.

  “I’m Sophia Hahn.”

  Rogan had noticed that older people lots of times said things in VR that were already obvious from their bio-bubbles. [Sophia Hahn. Female. Age 33. President of marketing and public affairs at Atomic Frontiers Game Division. Arlington, Virginia. United States of America.]

  Sophia continued. “I’m the president of marketing and public affairs for the game division of Atomic Frontiers.” She stepped aside and motioned at William Culum like a woman on a game show presenting a prize. “And this is Mr. William J. Culum.”

  Mr. Culum’s smile deepened the wrinkles in his forehead and the corners of his eyes. He ran his hand down to smooth his trademark large cardigan, which was as gray as his hair. “It’s great to meet you, Rogan!” He went on to introduce himself by reciting information that already hovered in holoscript right above him. [William J. Culum. Age 56. Founder, president, and CEO of Atomic Frontiers Corporation. Arlington, Virginia. United States of America.] Information that every respectable gamer already knew. Information that even nongamers knew.

  William Culum was one of the most well-known figures in the world. Besides being worth over eighty billion dollars, the guy had won the Nobel Prize in physics for his work in creating the incredibly more efficient hyperstream data cable. The invention had enabled much faster transmission of the massive amount of data that made digi-space, and Virtual City within it, possible. He had also been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for personally funding the expansion of the hypernet all over the world, including in isolated countries and regions, allowing digi-space access to more people than ever before. Rogan knew all about William Culum.

  But this couldn’t be the real Mr. Culum, could it? Celebrity impersonation was a complex issue in Virtual City. Impersonating real living people, or people who had died within the last sixty years, was illegal. But any half-decent avatar artist could change the height, hair color, or other features of a famous person just slightly, so the user could claim it was a tribute, not an impersonation. Then there was the whole other problem of people who wanted to be Luke Skywalker, not necessarily Mark Hamill, the actor who played him. The issue of digi-space identity appropriation was an unending argument on many forums and in the courts, but no one was more aggressive about suing to prevent the use of his digital likeness than William Culum. Rogan had read that many of the shadiest programmers didn’t dare create any avatars or NPCs that looked remotely like him. Maybe this avatar did belong to the real man.

  “This is my associate Xavier Johnson.” Mr. Culum motioned toward the large, tough-looking man standing behind him. The light glinted off the man’s brown, glass-smooth shaved head. He offered only a nod.

  Rogan won
dered if Mr. Johnson was here as a bodyguard. He almost looked like a soldier or a Marine from some of the war games Rogan played. But who would need a bodyguard in Virtual City? His mother had even done talks about how virtual reality could bring the world together, allowing people from all cultures and backgrounds to interact without the threat of physical violence.

  “Come on in,” Rogan said.

  “I think somebody forgot his apartment’s parental security measures.” Mr. Culum laughed as he reached, or tried to reach, through the doorway. His arm vanished at the point where it crossed the threshold, ending in a laser-straight sparkling stump at the elbow. It reappeared when he stepped back. “Adults can’t enter. In fact, we have a limited time to talk to you here before we are respawned to our origin points.”

  Sophia Hahn refreshed her smile. “That’s why we’d like you to warp with us to Atomic Frontiers virtual headquarters!” Every time she talked, it was with the gushing enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. “We have a very exciting offer for you. We know you’re going to be thrilled.”

  “I should probably ask my parents first,” Rogan said.

  “Of course!” said Mr. Culum. “And they’re certainly welcome to join us.”

  “They’re real busy,” Rogan said. He figured he had nothing to worry about. His real body was safe in his real bedroom. And if they somehow managed to get around Virtual City’s protections for minors to say or show him weird stuff? His gamer gloves came basic programmed so that three hard taps to the top of his left hand would instantly call the Virtual City Police and remove the caller from the situation. Plus, this was William Culum!

  Rogan made up his mind.

  “Let me take my dog’s headset off. He gets pretty lonely if I move to a different virtual environment. If he’s IRL and can see me, he’ll be fine.” He set Wiggles up, then stood. “OK, let’s go.”

  Mr. Culum didn’t need to bother with portals, but instantly transported all of them, so that they stood in a large octagonal rotunda with a high domed ceiling and hallways on the second floor from which people could look down into the room. Huge windows offered a view across the river of the Lincoln and Washington memorials and the US Capitol building in the distance. The floor was made of black tile, and in the middle of the large center circle was the Atomic Frontiers logo, three electrons orbiting in a sort of star pattern around a globe nucleus.

  Suspended from four steel cables about a dozen feet above the floor was an enormous brass sculpture. Four big hexagonal panels were supported at the ends of several brass bars. Each bar protruded from a large central column that had several tiny glowing windows in it. At the base of the central core, a large dish with a rod emerging from its center pointed downward at an angle toward the floor. Three space capsules hung from the hexagon support struts on thin, shiny gold wires. Rogan recognized it at once.

  He’d seen over a dozen Star Wars movies in 3-D and VR. He’d flown plenty of starfighter ships in different games, and he’d always been disappointed that IRL all the cool space stuff had been done long before he was born. The old International Space Station was garbage compared to the Death Star, a bunch of tin cans that floated in space, doing nothing. But a few years ago, they’d begun construction of this beauty.

  He looked up at the scale model of the sleek space station and smiled. “Sun Station One.”

  “Glad you recognize it!” said Mr. Culum, his voice echoing in the open chamber. “We keep this model here in the atrium as a reminder of our latest effort to ride technology into the future, and as a celebration of one of Atomic Frontiers’ crowning achievements. It will become operational very soon. When it does, it will reflect massive amounts of solar energy into the station’s collector/converter, then transmit that energy back to a large ground receiver on Earth. Enough energy to continuously power a large modern city. All with absolutely no pollution.”

  Sophia put her hand on Mr. Culum’s arm and beamed at Rogan. “Atomic Frontiers has always pushed back the frontiers of science and technology, Rogan. You’re here today because it’s done so again—this time in the realm of video games.”

  “Is this like an ad for a game?” This was the company that made Laser Viper. Maybe they had noticed that Rogan played the game a lot, and wanted to sell him other games.

  “Not at all,” Sophia said. “Full details are on the way to your inbox. In the meantime, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you. That was some very impressive gaming in Laser Viper today! We’ve been watching your progress and advanced style of gameplay for a while. Amazing. You are one of the five best American Laser Viper gamers in your age division, from a pool of hundreds of thousands of others. One of the best in the world! Your dedication and your skill in combat have earned you a chance to compete in the most exclusive and prestigious video game contest ever held. Atomic Frontiers is proud to invite you to the Laser Viper Final Challenge!”

  “Really?”

  Mr. Culum leaned down into Rogan’s field of view with a super cheerful grin on his face. “We hope to see you in person, two weeks from now, right here in our nation’s capital, where you and four other gamers will be the stars of Atomic Frontiers’ first promotional reality show. You’ll all compete to become the first Laser Viper Grand Champion.”

  “Washington, DC?” Rogan said. “I don’t know if my family can afford such a big trip.”

  “Don’t worry.” Sophia patted his shoulder. “Like I said, all the details are in your inbox, but this trip is just for you. Airfare and room and board are all included. Wait until you see where you’ll be staying. We’ve converted a large section of one of the floors of Atomic Frontiers headquarters into luxury dorms, and the gameplay for the contest will be far beyond anything you’ve experienced with your basic VR headset and gamer gloves. We have a state-of-the-art, full-immersion gaming experience that you are going to love.” She waved her hands wildly in the air. “Oh. I can’t describe it. You will simply have to experience it to believe it.”

  Rogan tried to play it cool in front of the adults, but he wanted to scream and dance. Wait until Shaylyn heard about this! She was always giving him a hard time, trying to one-up him in every game, especially in Laser Viper. When he won the title of Laser Viper Grand Champion, he would have absolute proof that he was the best.

  Sophia laughed. “By the way, did we forget to mention that the Laser Viper champion will receive a $250,000 cash prize along with one million game credits?”

  “Wow,” Rogan said quietly. He laughed when he remembered that orange e-viction notice on his Virtual City apartment. Were there any twelve-year-old Virtual City millionaires? There couldn’t be many.

  Mega Modern could keep the apartment. With a million game credits, he could get a whole house. He’d be a lot closer to owning his own airship.

  “I expect even your busy parents won’t be able to ignore this opportunity,” Mr. Culum said.

  “They’ll be so excited, so proud,” Sophia agreed.

  “And you’ll need their permission, of course.” Mr. Culum smiled. “Sophia has taken care of all the relevant permission forms. All of it is—”

  “In my inbox,” Rogan said.

  Mr. Culum burst into kind laughter. “He catches on fast! We may have to hire him, Sophia!” Sophia laughed with him. Xavier did not. “But seriously, Rogan, assuming your parents agree to let you participate, we still haven’t heard what you think.”

  “I think …” How could Rogan explain how he felt about something as unbelievably awesome as this video game contest? “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a great gamer.”

  “You are a great gamer,” Sophia said. “But the Laser Viper Final Challenge will be a wonderful way to recognize and showcase you and other great gamers your age. To really let you and the game shine.”

  “No, but I mean—” Rogan motioned to the world-changing computer genius standing in front of him. “Mr. Culum, I made a video report on you for technology class last year. My dad has a William J. Culum action figure.
You press a button and it says—”

  “Ride technology into the future!” Mr. Culum proudly proclaimed.

  “Yes!” Rogan agreed. “I mean, yes, the figure says that, and yes, more than anything I want to play and win this video game tournament!” He laughed now too. This was really happening.

  After they’d all exchanged goodbyes, Rogan warped back to his apartment. He wasted no time shutting the system down, but tossed his VR device onto his bed. His Hot Pocket and PowerSlam forgotten, he rushed out of his room to find his parents. He didn’t care how busy they were. He had to tell them all about this.

  “MomDad!” Blinking to clear the afterimage left behind by digi-space—a temporary side effect for any hardcore VR gamer— his socks slipped on the wood floor, and he crashed down hard. His Ranger might have been super athletic, but he was not. He sprang to his feet and scrambled down the hall faster than Sonic the Hedgehog. “You’ll never believe—”

  His mom came out of her room, smiling and blinking, a red rectangle print around her eyes from her VR headset. She held up her all-powerful “just a sec” finger for a moment before she tapped away on her tablet. “Hang on …” She stopped tapping and stared intently at her screen. “I just need to finish this one thing.…”

  Dad emerged from down the hall. “Hey, Ro. Sorry again about getting so frustrated earlier.” He smiled sheepishly at Rogan. “You just need to learn to be patient sometimes.”

  “Oh yeah …” Mom was talking in that drawn-out, almost zombie-like voice she used when she was actually concentrating on text messages. “You have to be patient, Rogan. Or, you know, send a message to our inboxes and get our attention that way. You have to learn that you can’t get everything you want in this world right away.”

  Rogan thought about pointing out that it had hurt, at least a little, when Dad hit him with the sword, and that Mom was usually no better at checking her inbox than she was at actually coming to the door of her office. But he didn’t want to lose this opportunity to talk to his parents, so he put all that aside and told them his big news.