Beta 1.0 Test
Page 13
Okay. I'm doing this. Feeling like scum, I press my ear to the door. At least they're seated and those chairs make noise. Once someone gets up, I can easily get back to the testing room before I'm noticed.
"Candace," Anthony starts in a neutral tone, letting silence drag out. It's clear he wants her to speak first, and he's making it sound like she has to answer for something.
I tense. That's not like him. At gaming conventions, he's always smiling, though distant, and waving to Creationist fans. One time he posed with a life-size statue of a Phantom and circulated the picture on social media. The man in the meeting room is all business.
"We now have seven testers in total," Candi says a moment later. "Matt is a great builder and I've sent you the streams of the city he's creating. Don's found almost all of the biomes except for the Glimmer. And Liz is almost done exploring that vast cavern she found. Oh, and my projects should be ready for when the next phase begins."
My palms tingle. So far, it seems that Candi and Anthony are alone. None of the other founders have come to this meeting.
"Yes. They are all very impressive and I would expect no less out of them, and especially you," Anthony says. "However, we do have seven testers, and we at corporate have determined that we would like to have five on staff when Salvosera comes out of closed beta."
I cup my ear. We have seven. They want to go down to five soon?
Is this what Candi wants me to hear?
Is Anton deciding our futures today?
Miriam, the assistant, did handle my contract, not Anton. Anton never agreed to pay me and now he's bound by law. And probably not happy that someone went over his head.
"We have Kevin and Val, who haven't had much of a chance to show their skill sets yet," Candi says. "Kevin is about to stumble upon the Elixir system, I believe. And Val has begun exploring the mechanics of Magical Wares."
I let out a very slow breath. Salvosera has a magical system and an elixir system? I've barely tapped this game.
"That is true. I have seen the streams," Anthony says. He's getting impatient. "At least our newest closed beta tester is finally showing some promise. He's only died once, but I have to admit he's made some clumsy mistakes."
I gulp, knowing exactly what he means. He saw the Lava Incident and probably didn't like the House of Mediocrity, or my brush with the centipede monster, or my ugly Common Soil structures. He probably watched as I lugged that heavy lava Pail all the way back to my base, cursing his name. I didn't wish death on him out loud, did I?
Anyway, I've just gotten confirmation that I am not the favorite around here.
"All of the players have made mistakes," Candi says. I hear the tension in her voice. She's not used to standing up to Anthony, then, and I wish I could help her with her position. "That's part of learning the game mechanics and part of closed beta testing. Say, do you have an ETA for the next beta version? We still have a bit of feedback to gather from the testers tonight which I'll send over right away."
Thank you for changing the subject, I think.
"The developers are not entirely sure when that date will be, but the release will happen some time before the end of the month. It will depend on how much feedback we receive," Anthony says. "But the general plan is still the same. Beta 1.1 will hopefully fix some bugs and balance issues, and Beta 1.2 will mark the start of Salvosera's GameTube presence. Our marketing department has requested that five of our beta testers stay on as paid streamers, under our account, and that is a number that I agree with."
"Five streamers?" Candi asks. "We have seven testers, including myself, and all of them have something to contribute." She leaves the meaning hanging.
My heart leaps into my throat. Five streamers. They're going to let three of us go soon. And I know my head is on the chopping block, as Landon used to warn his employees back at the call center.
How much longer do I have here? I know the testing period is temporary, of course, but once Beta 1.1 comes out, Beta 1.2—the version we won't all stay here to see—will follow soon after.
And that'll probably be right when Natalie's problems level up to 50.
"Yes. I am aware," Anthony says. "We will be using Beta 1.1 to determine which of our testers will continue to 1.2. The first two to die during the Beta 1.1 period will be excluded from continuing to the paid status. They will be moved out of the headquarters immediately to avoid alerting the other testers of the new conditions."
"Do the contracts allow for this?" Candi asks.
"Yes, of course. There is the special obligations clause which states that players who fail to meet their special obligations can be removed from the program at any time."
Anton sounds happy. Confident.
And I'm starting to shake as a hollow feeling fills my chest. Yes. There is a special obligations clause in the contract. I dimly remember it.
"But all players have died," Candi says, not daring to let another uncomfortable pause drag out. She forces a laugh. "Some of our testers are reliant on the money and shelter we provide them."
"Candace, it is not Salvos Corporation's fault that some people have failed to save and invest and can't help their families with expenses. I know there are plenty of charitable organizations out there who will help these people."
I almost rip myself from the door.
This is not Anton, the smiling man with the Phantom statue. The man who brought Creationist to the world. The man who organized CreationCon every single year for the past decade.
Only it is.
"Our testers are a team," Candi says, voice rising. "Losing even one member may lower morale."
"That will not happen," Anton says. "It's necessary to cull the herd. If we have too many testers streaming Salvosera to the public, demand for these streams will drop, and so will revenue. We can't give away too many details about the game. Our marketing department has advised us that we should only keep the best revenue generators. Keep the supply low, and demand will rise."
Pain in my palms steals my attention to the fact that I'm digging my fingernails into them. Pure rage seizes every muscle in my body and makes my teeth hurt. Does he know about my sister? Miriam might have mentioned it when Anton grilled her for agreeing to pay me. He just might know...he just might know...
"So, when will Salvosera go live to the public?" Candi asks as if she can sense that I'm about to go Mr. Hyde and bust down the door.
"We are aiming for six months. That will give us plenty of time to build buzz in the public," Anthony continues, his tone going from confident to chipper. "Everyone will be dying to visit our Salvos Centers to play Salvosera. To buy a subscription. To get their hands on a Salvos suit. People will travel to have this experience. And once revenue jumps, we will be expanding out to smaller communities and rural areas."
My pulse roars in my ears. I can see Anton salivating all over the table.
The Creationist icon that I once admired is just another Landon, only worse, because he's a millionaire with real power.
I barely realize when the conversation shifts to Candi's method of gathering feedback and her use of the company credit card. From there, it shifts to petty stuff like the weather. I tear myself from the door, go get changed, and then walk back through the hallway to the apartment elevator. Once upstairs in the apartment lobby, I find Don and a young woman—probably Liz or Val—chatting by the elevator. The young woman has hair made of winding, copper, blond, and black braids and she's one of the shortest women I've ever seen.
"Hey," Don says "Did you hear? Feedback meeting tonight."
"Feedback meeting," I say. Salvos has to figure out how to kill the less desirable of us off.
And I can't say anything.
"Yeah. Every Friday," Don says. "They cater so it's not bad." He gives me an oblivious thumbs-up.
The last thing I want is food after listening to Anthony talk. I open my mouth, but the woman eyes the ceiling. Yeah. Another black orb is up there. So I plaster a stupid smile on my face.
"Just be careful," the woman says. "We're not supposed to share anything with each other and well, you'll see. I'm Val, by the way."
"Good to meet you, Val," I say. I can tell she's a firecracker and she's barely opened her mouth.
I head to my apartment, in no mood to go back into the game yet or to chat with my fellow testers. Rude, yeah, but my gut is giving me tons of warning signals. I storm back into my room, tearing off the memo on my door that gives me the time and place for the feedback meeting tonight, and I toss it down next to my contract.
What if I die during Beta 1.1?
Absently, I stand at the kitchen counter and thumb through the contract, folding the corners and straightening them out again. Why did I trust that this would work out, that this was the opportunity Dad said would come to me?
Page one. Page two. Page three. Then page six.
Huh?
I jolt as I go through the pages again, eyeing the gray numbers that are barely legible thanks to the printer being low on ink. Yeah. There's no page four or five in this contract. They screwed up.
My gut clenches tighter. Or did they?
"Really?" I thumb through the contract again, reading it to see if something sounds cut off and omitted between page three and six, but it all looks okay. My gut screams again, turning over, as I think of a horrifying possibility.
What if there is a page four and five, and Salvos just didn't show them to me? What if Salvos has a contract on file that has my signature, along with those pages that I've never seen?
And how would I prove it?
I swear and slap the contract back down on the counter. What did I sign, exactly, and what did I get myself into?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
For the first time since arriving at Salvos's apartment complex, I take a walk around downtown Charlotte. I've already met my 20-hour quota for the week, but my head is spinning so much that I know if I try to play my world right now, I'll mess something up royally.
Man, I'm an idiot.
I pull my old hoodie over my head even though it's hot, drawing suspicious stares from people on the street. It's just after lunch from what I can tell. People in business suits and blouses exit restaurants and fast food places, busy with their own worries. I do not blend in. I can smile at someone and send them running.
Not that I've ever been super social, anyway.
And not that I care. I've got a target on my back.
I think about calling Natalie but she's got to be at work and off her lunch break. So instead I walk into a random fast food place I've never visited and order a drink with my pocket change. I should get paid today. The thought sends a wave of nausea through me as I exit the fast food place, ditching my half-finished drink in a trash can. Leaning against a building, I check my bank account through my phone's app. For all I know there's a clause in the completed contract about not paying me if I so much as fart in the apartment.
Your Balance: $3,212.
My jaw drops.
I've been paid.
Salvos actually kept their end of the deal.
I sag with relief against the building. Maybe I'm overreacting and the missed numbers on the contract were just a typo.
"Wait, Mike," I say. "Don't trust them." I still have the update to worry about and my best shot at surviving that is to see if I can squeeze some info about it out at the group dinner. It's at five—four hours from now—so I have time to think about how to approach it. And with my mind still working, I continue my long walk around downtown.
* * * * *
We all actually meet in the same big meeting room I put my ear up to earlier. As I enter five to five, it smells of heavenly food. A worker wearing a green apron for a fancy Italian place lines up aluminum trays of awesomeness on the counter. I spot Don already loading up on salad and breadsticks while Matt's seated, a heaping plate in front of him. Val and the other woman, Liz, sit together and a guy I haven't seen before, a real hardcore geek complete with thick glasses, waves. Everyone seems friendly enough.
"This is Kevin," Don says, slugging the new guy on the shoulder. "Oh. And this is Liz." Liz too is a fellow geek, with a plaid shirt with a Vox tee underneath.
We all shake hands and settle down to dinner. We all eat in silence and I sense that like the rest of the facility, the meeting room is bugged. Dystopia, here we come. Anthony Anton has probably already left in his private jet. After all, it's Candi's job to collect feedback. And why should Anton talk to us revenue generators?
At last, as dinner's drawing to a close, our final beta tester enters the room. Candi offers a small wave as she struts over to the food and loads up, along with two new suited people who have come in with her. Neither is Anton.
"Everyone," she says. "Thank you for your feedback so far on Salvosera. Mike, I know you haven't had a chance to do this yet, but this is how it works. Everyone will write their feedback on a card, separately, and turn it in. It's kind of an essay." She frowns at me and I read meaning in that stare. Yes. She was trying to warn me about what's coming.
"Got it," I say. I'm mentioning the issue with the lava pail for sure. No player will like that feature. And how some crafting recipes are almost too easy, which goes against the theme of Salvosera so far. But should I do that with Anton out to kill me?
He has to be out to kill me. I'm the troublemaker.
She doesn't miss a beat even though she's got bags under her eyes. Candi turns to the two suits who came in with her. "Please welcome Robbie Cratt, marketing genius for Salvos, and his wife Lisa, who is leading the development team."
A bit of applause rises from the table. I have to force myself to clap. They're another pair of big names from Salvos, and I don't know how they feel about us. The couple is young, maybe in their upper thirties, and the guy is well-built. And isn't Lisa Anton's daughter? She has his thick eyebrows, that's for sure.
Lisa steps forward, almost nudging Candi aside. "We are pleased to announce that Beta 1.1 will roll out to you to Monday. Our dev team is working tirelessly to bring it to you over the weekend."
Now cheers rise. Kevin claps over his head and Val slaps her hand to her mouth. I sense my back prickling. Do they know I suspect something fishy is going on?
"That's awesome. What's in this patch?" I blurt.
Lisa laughs, a high-pitched, annoying sound. "We are not at liberty to say. It will be your job, as beta testers, to test the waters."
I'm afraid of that. I swallow but force myself to keep on that stupid smile. This is the version meant to kill those of us Anton doesn't like.
No one else asks questions. I'm the new guy and it's showing. At least that's expected of me. Robbie steps forward next.
"Beta 1.1 will be the unofficial end to the rough side of the closed beta," he says. "This is the time for us to work out the last major bugs and balance issues. It is true that Beta 1.1 has a few new features, but they shouldn't have too much impact on gameplay. After Beta 1.1 comes to an end, we will be hiring on paid streamers to bring Salvosera to the public for the first time."
Gasps sound around the table as Liz once again slaps her hand to her mouth. Don grabs the table and Matt leans forward.
But still, no one asks any questions, least of all how much they'd make.
"We want several streamers to be willing to stream live on GameTube for several hours per day. Get the public excited. Bring your shining personalities to the world," Robbie continues. "That's how Creationist exploded in popularity. This, combined with us rolling back support for Creationist over the next several months, will drive gamers towards Salvosera."
"You're going to stop supporting Creationist altogether?" I blurt. The most popular game in the world? I remember Candi saying something about me being lucky I didn't go in that direction.
"Yes," Robbie says with an award-winning smile. "We are confid
ent that this move will help drive subscriptions for Salvosera. You have to understand that Creationist is going on its eleventh year. The player base is ready for a new, next-generation experience."
I swallow. I know full well Salvosera will be pricey and while Creationist will still exist for a long time, players will get bored without any new patches or new features to look forward to. And some of them won't be able to afford the jump to Salvosera right away. But I don't think this is the time to argue my case.
"This is awesome," Val says. She looks to Liz who's also grinning. I can't even tell them that not all of us will make the cut.
And if I do, will they believe me? I'm the only skeptic here.
"So be sure to fill in your cards after dinner," Lisa says, once again taking the stage. "Your feedback is valuable and will shape Salvosera for years to come."
The two leave and I expect Candi to sit down with us and speak to us alone. But instead, she takes two bites with her plastic fork, turns, and exits the room, almost as if she's following Lisa and Robbie.
"Wow. This is our lucky break," Don tells me.
"Yeah. Maybe they'll finally add a multiplayer server where we can actually do some PVP and challenge each other to arena combat," Kevin adds. He and Val look at each other, grinning.
I look at my nearly-empty plate of food, shocked I managed to eat with the news I got today.
"I've got to go use the bathroom," I say, rising.
No one questions why I leave. I throw out my dinner roll and hope they blame a gluten allergy. Robbie and Lisa have vanished, probably to go talk over in the testing room, but Candi's in the lounge, reaching into the minibar.
I walk in. "Hey."
Candi whirls. She's got a small shot glass in her hand and her food in the other. The bags under her eyes have darkened.
"Look," she says, then lets silence drag out.
I don't know what to say. If she's not sending out distress signals, I don't know what she's doing. "Everyone's excited." I force a smile, knowing full well there must be cameras on us.