ã€ŠInfinity Onlineã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1 - Jackson

    Some of the most life changing and world shaking events begin with the seemingly innocent or mundane: An American plane flying high over Hiroshima during World War II, a flea bite during the Middle Ages, or a crowd of torch-lit people working their way through the Garden of Gethsemane late one Spring night.

    ¡°Mom sure is in a hurry today.¡± My voice was muffled with toothpaste as I looked out of the second story bathroom window. Mom looked harried. She threw her laptop bag over the console of her Camry and into the passenger seat as she scrambled in after it. The car started a moment later and smoothly backed out beforepulling forward into traffic. Rushed or not, she was always an incredible driver. Sometimes frustratingly so when you needed to get somewhere fast.

    ¡°They¡¯re probably pushing her pretty hard to have everything ready for launch. There¡¯s a lot riding on it.¡± My twin sister Jane said.

    Shewas twisting her hair up in some kind of elaborate bun in front of the double sink we shared between our rooms.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to change everything. Have you gotten any more news on the forums?¡± Isaid, pausingto spit and rinse, and finally reaching for the hand towel hanging next to the light switch. ¡°That contact I have at Prometheus mentioned a few things. He made me digitally sign an NDA if you can believe it.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Still thinks I¡¯m an angel investor on the fence. He said that they¡¯re shipping the headsets this week! I guess they¡¯ve been producing them non-stop in three giga-factories across the world to meet demand.¡±

    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe they¡¯re shipping them out for free. Who does that? How are they even going to make any money doing something like that?¡±

    I paused to look over at her for a moment. She was tilting her chin down and twisting to get a good look at her hair. She had mom¡¯s wide blue eyes and small upturned nose. Her high cheekbones and hair were all dad, though¡ªa light and wispy auburn color. I can¡¯t really say whether she was pretty or not. I¡¯m just not wired that way. Jane was Jane and she hadn¡¯t changed much growing up.

    ¡°That''s a great question. He explained it all to me, and I still didn''t really get it. They¡¯re looking at the long game. You¡¯ve heard the same rumors I have. We chose different points of contact for a reason and they¡¯re all saying the same thing: Infinity Online is going to change everything. They¡¯re selling the fully immersive capsules to the highest bidders and that¡¯s only one revenue stream.¡±

    ¡°Jackson?¡± Iturned to herfullyat the concerned tone in her voice. ¡°Don¡¯t you think this is going to change everything? Like this is finally an opportunity to grab hold of something bigger and brighter?¡±

    I groaned loudly. ¡°Alright, Jane. Which one is it?¡±

    ¡°Which one is what?¡±

    ¡°Which Disney song are you about to break out into? Because I don¡¯t think I can stomach any more right now. The world isn¡¯t a fairy tale.¡±

    She huffed indignantly and punched me in the arm.

    ¡°We¡¯re only seeing the very tip of the iceberg here. If you read between the lines, it¡¯s going to be a culture shift for the entire world for generations.¡± Jane practiced her pout in the mirror. ¡°I sure am ready for a shift. I¡¯m not getting any younger.¡±

    I threw the towelin her face and laughed. ¡°You¡¯re sixteen Jane. I think you¡¯ll manage.¡±Shethrew the towel back at me, along with a scowl andchased me out of the bathroom.

    ¡°Jackson!¡± A voice shouted from downstairs. ¡°Jackson! Do you know where the medium, flat nosed pliers are? The ones without the teeth on the tip. They scratch the chain mail and I need to fix a few spots here before I can show my face in public.¡±

    Jane leaned out of the doorway and rolled her eyes, one hand on the door frame and the other working her toothbrush in her mouth. I waved her away and smiled as I took the landing to the downstairs. I hooked the last post on the stairs to whip myself around the corner and into the living room. Sir Lionel the Brave was in the middle of pulling a stainless steel European 4 in 1 weave chain mail shirt over his head. He was having a tough time of it, though. The sword and scabbard he had belted on were keeping it cinched down tight agianst his body.

    ¡°Sir Lionel Lee! Is that you in the flesh? Why don¡¯t you let me have a shot at it? It¡¯s what squires are for.¡± I quickly stepped over to him and deftly unclasped the belt mechanism, grabbing up the pliers on the mantle of the fireplace as I moved past. The buckle was relatively simple for me to take off. I guess it should be. I¡¯d made it.

    ¡°Oh, come on lad. You haven¡¯t been a squire in what, ten years?¡± He had finally gotten the heavy garment over his head and unceremoniously onto the coffee table.

    ¡°Eight.¡± I said, handing him the pliers and the bag of stainless rings that had been sitting next to them. ¡°I was a slow learner, remember.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve earned your sir name, make no mistake. It won¡¯t be long now until you¡¯ll be off on your first real adventure and become a knight in truth. ¡®Slow learner¡¯.¡± He scoffed, setting to work on the small rent in the otherwise flawless vest. ¡°Faster than your sister. Never could get that girl to see reason. Takes after your lady mom. Going to rule the kingdom with that brain of hers.¡± He glanced up at me with a smile. ¡°Guess that makes you the muscle and steel.¡± In a rare moment his hands stilled and his face turned serious. ¡°You take care of her, you hear me, son?¡±

    The smile slid off my face too in the suddenly serious silence. ¡°You know I will, sir. She¡¯s my little sister.¡± Lionel¡¯s smile returned with a chuckle as he started back on his repairs.

    ¡°You know the lass hates when you point that out.¡±

    ¡°I doooo.¡± A faint voice called out from upstairs. I looked in the direction of the voice and smiled fondly.

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    A knock brought my attention, and my feet around to the front door. I swung it open with a smile as I saw who it was.

    ¡°Kaylin, hey!¡± I said, stepping forward and extending my right hand across her shoulder and pulling her to my side in a brief hug. ¡°Everything alright? We were just about to head up to see what the lunch ladies are feeding the rest of the prisoners this morning. Come on in.¡±

    ¡°Hey Jack,¡± she said, returning the hug and stepping inside. ¡°Yeah, I was hoping I could catch a ride with you guys. Mom¡¯s got to use the car this morning and the bus doesn¡¯t show for another hour.¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah, sure. No problem.¡± I swept some clutter up out of the recliner. Mom had forgotten her corporate name badge; it was sitting on top of the mess. I remember her mentioning her yearly picture and I.D. replacement when she was fretting about what to wear last week. Her strawberry blond hair was cut in the pixie style that she liked. Her blue eyes mirrored Jane¡¯s and were open and honest. Her big smile accented the small crows feet and laugh lines of her face. The name Susan Lee was written in bold print below the picture. Watermarked behind the name was the Prometheus Corporate logo: a burning torch held in a clenched fist. I set the stuff up on the bar between the kitchen and the living room and offered the cleared seat to Kaylin. She stayed standing, awkwardly holding her backpack in front of her.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just¡­ take this into the smithy.¡± Lionel said, his eyes tracking between me and Kaylin.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I can even help you out here.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I think I¡¯m going to need my blacksmithing tools. This is a little more complicated than I thought it¡¯d be.¡± His greaves and sabatons clanging against each other as he precariously grabbed up the pliers, chain mail shirt, sword, and belt into an untidy pile in his arms.

    Complicated? It was dead simple. His steps sped up as he glanced back and noticed me watching. Was he running? What was up with him today? I turned back to Kaylin as the door to the garage slammed shut behind him.

    ¡°Sorry, he¡¯s LARPing tonight and he¡¯s just excited that he doesn¡¯t have to Game Master this time and can actually fight something.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Um, I think you¡¯ve told me what that was before. LARPing? It¡¯s like some kind of real life video game, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s pretty cool actually, if you can get past the nerd factor, but my bar is set pretty high at this point. It¡¯s called Live Action Role Playing. You get into character like you¡¯re in a game or a story and you go on an adventure. There are rules and Game Masters that keep people honest and keep the story moving so everyone¡¯s having a good time. Everyone says dad¡¯s the best GM, so he doesn¡¯t get to play as much as he¡¯d like.

    ¡°Oh, I remember now. There¡¯s even magic and stuff right? Are there princesses and dancing and stuff like that, too?¡± She seemed to have gotten a little glow in her eyes at the thought.

    ¡°Um, I mean yeah. You can pretty much do whatever you want. It¡¯s about stepping outside of your small world and pushing the borders back to become whatever you want to be. Kind of poetic, really. Most groups seem to focus on the adventure; the sword and sorcery part of it, though. But if you talked to a GM, I¡¯m sure they could work in a ball scene so you could feel like a princess and dance around.¡±

    She had a delighted and shy smile as her hands wrung the grip of her backpack. ¡°That¡¯s pretty cool. So um, speaking of danc¡ª¡±

    The doorbell rang, cutting her off.

    ¡°Hold that thought.¡± Jogging to the door, I opened it.

    A man in his late twenties was standing at the door with a clipboard in hand sporting a uniform with the Prometheus Corporation logo.

    ¡°Excuse me, is this the¡­ Lee residence?¡± He asked, double checking his clipboard.

    ¡°Yeah, but mom already left a little bit ago, you just missed her, actually.¡± I was a little confused at what was going on.

    ¡°Actually, is Jane Lee here?¡± He asked. As weird as this was, I called up to her and she came running down the stairs, giving Kaylin a smile and a small wave.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± She said, bouncing to a stop at the door.

    ¡°Hello, miss Lee I¡¯m Jeremy Stevens with Prometheus Corporation. My paperwork says here that Jane Lee was entered into our Golden Ticket lottery for a state of the art Immersion Rig. It''s for the celebration of our subsidiary¡ªInfinity Entertainment¡¯s new flagship game that¡¯s going to be released this week. It¡¯s called Infinity Online. But I¡¯m sure you know that already.¡± He chuckled smoothly. ¡°Just under a million people entered into the drawing and you were the winner. Congratulations! We¡¯re here to deliver and install the system. One of our PR staff will come by after hours or tomorrow and talk with your parents about allowing a small news interview. The winning of this lottery is a big morale boost and, not to sound to mercenary, but its great for the company image.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is.¡± I growled. I wasn¡¯t jealous or anything. Well, okay of course I was freaking jealous. I was going to have to settle for the wimpy visor while my sister got a top of the line capsule. I don¡¯t consider myself a material kind of person, but why God? We¡¯ve spent hours together and separate, researching every nook and cranny of information about this game. We researched all of the hardware, tips, leaks, everything. With all of that, we knew how much these rigs cost and that we¡¯d never be able to afford one. Unbelievable. I glared at her. ¡°Did you sign up for this?¡±

    ¡°No, I thought maybe you did. This is crazy.¡± Her eyes were wide.

    ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind signing here and if your boyfriend can hold the door, we¡¯ll get this thing loaded in.¡± He finished with a smile, waving two uniformed men over that had been pulling the capsule out of a large box and loading it up on a dolly. It was the size of a refrigerator and that was only the bottom half.

    ¡°He¡¯s my brother. I¡¯m her brother.¡± We said in unison. ¡°We¡¯re twins, actually.¡±

    ¡°Identical?¡± He asked as his head snapped round like a puppy with a new toy.

    We looked at each other and barely managed to keep from rolling our eyes. Every. Time. Goodkind was right. People are stupid.

    ¡°Um, no.¡± I said calmly. ¡°By definition.¡±

    ¡°Twins.¡± He drew the word out thoughtfully, not listening. A gleam had appeared in his eyes. ¡°Twins¡­ That could be interesting. Keep it up boys! I¡¯ve got a call to make.¡± Jeremy shouted back at the two workers, pulling out his phone. A rapid and confusing conversation happened then. Especially since we were only getting one side and only when his pacing brought him close to the door. ¡°Yeah, man, freaking twins. Think of it¡­ The saps down at the news station will eat it up¡­ Then get me the VP!¡­ That¡¯s what I said, this is pure gold!¡­ Perfect. Thank you sir. Thirty minutes.¡± The last he said as he was walking back up to the door. He put his phone away. ¡°Okay.¡± He clapped his hands, and then rubbing them together. ¡°I¡¯ve got great news guys. It somehow slipped by our analysts, but we didn¡¯t know you had a twin. What was your name¡­?¡± He took the pen from the clipboard he had tucked under an arm and clicked it once.

    ¡°Jackson¡­ Jackson Lee.¡± I said, as if wandering into a trap.

    ¡°Jackson. Fantastic. The alliteration is really going to sell¡­ Well, Jackson. When my bosses heard that Jane here had a twin, they immediately offered to match the Golden Ticket winnings for you. A truck is already on their way to deliver everything in good faith.¡± He smiled magnanimously. ¡°What¡¯s the catch? I'' sure that''s what you¡¯re wondering.¡± The guy was reading my mail. ¡°Well, the catch is that your parents have to consent to allow some media coverage of the event. We believe that this story will do considerably more for our opening week than the cost of doubling the prize. What do you think of that?¡±

    I stood, stunned. ¡°I¡­ think that you¡¯ll get your story if I have to tie my parents up myself.¡± I said with a shaky laugh. Holy crap. I couldn¡¯t believe it. I wouldn¡¯t believe it, in fact. At least not until a second truck pulled up and they unloaded a second rig, clam shell style, like the first. Also like the first, they had to transport the top half and the bottom half in separately and assemble them in the guest bedroom. I practically just threw the guest bed into the garage in my excitement to make room. They were about the same size as a tanning bed, but what was strangest of all was that it wasn¡¯t a model I was familiar with, and I knew them all. It was much cleaner, with smooth lines and soft curves. My head was spinning as the reps shook our hands and congratulated us again before pulling out into the street and driving themselves back. It seemed that not all angels flew.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna check them out.¡± Jane squealed, running into the room and then shouted a few seconds later. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this, have you?¡±

    ¡°I was just thinking the same thing. There¡¯s nothing like it on the market.¡± I called out, heading to the room when I noticed Kaylin still standing there awkwardly. How long had she been there? I stammered an apology. ¡°Kaylin, jeeze, I¡¯m sorry. This has been a crazy morning.¡±

    ¡°Its okay,¡± she smiled nervously. ¡°I was just about to leave. I just wanted to ask you if you were taking anyo¡ª¡±

    Dad burst in through the garage door, tripping over the empty scabbard he had belted back on for some reason.

    ¡°Zulu-Alpha-Niner! We¡¯ve got to find her!¡± He shouted, picking himself up off the floor and sprinting at an awkward run to the side closet. He had the, ¡°no bull, this is a real emergency¡± military grade sat phone in one hand as he pulled out three bug-out bags and threw them onto the love seat. My heart froze in my chest.

    ¡°Oh god, dad. Zombies?¡± My hands were shaking. I knew the day was going too perfectly. He stopped his mad dash around the room, grabbing odds and ends and turned to me, confused.

    ¡°What? No, no. Keep up, boy. The castle guards aren¡¯t zombies. We just need to make sure they don¡¯t catch us. They¡¯re out of their league on this one. They¡¯ll just end up getting in the way of finding her.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not making sense.¡± I said slowly. ¡°You ran in here and shouted an apocalypse code.¡± Lionel paused for another long second, his brow furrowing in concentration.

    ¡°No, I think you¡¯ve got it wrong. That¡¯s ¡®Alas, Babylon¡¯. Or is it Whisky Tango Foxtrot¡­ I¡­ I can¡¯t ever seem to keep it straight¡± My shaking subsided and I huffed out a laugh. Thank God. I did not need a Z.A. to start my day.

    ¡°¡®Alas, Babylon¡¯ is a general emergency. Zulu-Alpha-Niner is one of the Zombie Apocalypse codes. Biological; Viral; Active; Pandemic; Recently Detected; Media Suppressed; Violent; Blood-borne; No Vaccine¡ªto be exact.¡± I knew all of the Z.A. codes by heart. It was my worst fear and my secret wish at the same time. I glanced over to see Kaylin¡¯s mouth agape. Her wide eyes darted between us. I gave her a sort of ¡®what can you do¡¯ shrug and turned back to him. ¡°Dad, uh I mean¡ªsir, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    He unhooked the belt in a clumsy motion. It fell to the floor with a clatter as he gripped the sat phone tightly in one hand.

    His brow cleared. His awkward demeanor and frantic movements shed like a second skin.

    Lionel Lee¡¯s eyes locked onto mine with a deep clarity and purpose.

    ¡°I just got a call from the police. They found your mother¡¯s car in an accident and refused to give me any details. They want us down at the precinct for questioning in an hour or they will be sending someone here to take us in.¡± The cold ball of ice doubled down in my stomach.

    ¡°But, where¡¯s mom?¡± My voice shook.

    ¡°Your mother¡¯s gone, son.¡±

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2 - Jane

    It started out as a game between us all, exciting stories of danger and adventure. I¡¯ve always been sort of a crypto geek and I loved the idea of having code phrases that we could use in the case of any emergency. Dad loved it right away. It fit right into his¡­ unique personality.

    With a couple of simple words and perhaps a number or two you could categorize almost any possible crisis. We spent days coming up with different scenarios. It was hard to remember all of the different possible combinations and permutations and we finally needed a code sheet. Well, I didn¡¯t need a code sheet. That was my gift, and my curse.

    I built a simple program that would let them enter any code phrase. It also worked in reverse for generating codes quickly. It would pull up a series of answers to questions regarding very specific emergencies. What type of crises? Nuke, Meteor, Aliens, Biological? Then the questions would drill down based on previous answers. What type of biological emergency? Was it active or latent? How wide spread is it? How is it transmitted? With short phrases we could give a lot of information very quickly, covertly, and have a plan in place for it.

    After I would do stuff like this, dad would sometimes turn to me and say something like, ¡°Did you know that you¡¯re my favorite daughter?¡± in that way that he has. I¡¯m not saying that that¡¯s the reason I use my brain and my gifts, but it certainly helps.

    Like I said, it was a fun game for a bunch of geeks like my family. With dad¡¯s friend Gerald Stone adding in some of the military code talk he used to use in the Navy, it made it feel even more authentic and exciting.

    Gerald¡ªnow he is something else, let me tell you. He¡¯s a marine through and through. I¡¯d once heard his commanding officer at a barbecue refer to him as ¡®the next Chesty Puller¡¯. (I had to look him up Online.) He was rugged and dangerous, and all those things that makes a girl¡¯s toes curl. He always used to say that it was the responsibility of a man to be tough for his family and tender with his family. He carried himself with an intensity and purpose that was both frightening and reassuring. One of his mantra¡¯s was that we should never do something half way (only there was usually a bit more swearing in his mantras).

    He showed us how to set up safe houses, dead drop locations, supply points, stocked our go bags, and pointed out that bus stops remained a sanctuary untouched by security. You could pay cash, and no I.D. was necessary. Going with Gerald and setting up these locations and resources was probably my favorite part of the whole thing. Jackson and I would pretend like we were spies or out on the lamb running from the government, and I would secretly pretend that Gerald would come and rescue me.

    I¡¯d hoped we¡¯d never have to use the codes and they would just be a fun and quirky game for the family. That all changed this morning.

    I came running down the stairs after hearing Jackson call for me. I couldn''t believe who was at the door. The next few moments we a blur of bliss. As soon as the door closed I bee-lined for the capsules. It was right around the time I was pressing my face against the smooth lines of the rig and whispering my undying devotion that I heard shouting. I came around the corner into the living room. Our go bags were out and ready, and I heard dad talking about needing to run from the police. Okay, he said ¡®castle guards¡¯ but I knew what he meant. My initial thoughts were: Oh, no. What had he done this time? Those stopped abruptly when I heard him tell Jackson about mom¡¯s car being in an accident and her missing from the scene.

    We argued. Hands were waved. Voices were raised.

    Dad seemed to think we needed to activate our response plan and go off the grid and find mom ourselves. The cops were bluffing and didn¡¯t have a leg to stand on. While that sounded cool in theory, I wasn¡¯t sure we had hit that point yet.

    Jackson seemed to see where I was coming from. Sometimes we just synced up like puzzle pieces. Other times? Well it¡¯s a good thing fratricide is illegal. Together we were able to convince our dad that we needed to go down to the station. Suddenly dropping off the map would only point the finger at us and shift the resources of the cops in an unhelpful direction. I made the point that even if they would be as little help as dad thought, that little bit might mean all the difference. What are we going to do anyway that the police can¡¯t, was a thought I didn¡¯t voice. We finally swayed him by mentioning that we could always activate the response plan and go dark if things went sideways.

    We were a good bit through this whole conversation before anyone seemed to notice Kaylin there, her head bouncing back and fourth between each of us as we spoke, like a spectator at a tennis match. It was probably for the best, I figured. Put the fear in them early. Let them see you at your worst and most dysfunctional. If they still stuck around¡ªyou know you got yourself a winner. As much as I wanted to strangle him sometimes, I wanted the best for my brother. Kaylin went home with a mumbled apology for intruding and a comforting hand with words of remorse for Jackson. Afterward, we quickly loaded up in the Explorer and headed down to the police station.

    That brings us to here. Sitting in this room. Answering questions.

    For six. Hours.

    Alright, I¡¯m making it sound worse than it really is. They basically told us to hurry down¡ªor else, and when we got here they made us wait for five hours before anyone even came around to take our statements. It wasn¡¯t the marathon interrogation session I made it out to be. The ones you sometimes see in the movies where they slowly wear down the suspect until they finally crack or make a mistake in their story, but it was still frustrating.

    A stocky black man with close cropped hair and a business casual gray suit finally made his way over to us. He was the only one I noticed in the busy precinct not wearing a weapon. Not even a shoulder holster. You could see his blazer billow open as he walked toward us. Dad immediately stopped muttering to himself about wasting time and how ¡°they¡± were getting away and reached out to grab the briefcase next to him. He¡¯d changed into a pant suit with blazer, a thin tie, and grabbed up the briefcase on the way out the door to the station.

    ¡°If I could just have you guys come with me, one at a time if you don¡¯t mind.¡± The man spoke with a smooth calming baritone. ¡°We¡¯ll start with you if you would.¡± He waved Jackson to stand up. ¡°My name¡¯s Jerome Daniels, I¡¯m one of the detectives tryin¡¯ to find out what happened to your mom. What was your name?¡± He was like a favorite uncle as held out a hand in introduction.

    ¡°Umm. Jackson. Jackson Lee.¡± My brother said, shaking the man¡¯s hand as he stood up. The detective smiled warmly and nodded, returning the handshake.

    Lionel stood up, then. Straightening his pencil tie with his right hand, he held his briefcase loosely at his side with his left. He looked calm and composed. He cleared his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t think so, Detective Daniels.¡± You could feel him capitalize the D in detective. ¡°These two children are underage and will not be answering any questions without my consent. Nor will they be separated from my side for any reason. You may take us all together, or we can have a discussion alone. These are your only options.¡± His voice flowed with a soft power and authority that was present throughout his entire bearing. Here was a man that, whatever room he was in, he was in control.

    The smile slipped on the detectives face and his eyes narrowed in suspicion for only an instant, and then it was gone. His gaze, however, weighed me and my brother as he spoke.

    ¡°You hired an attorney for a simple incident statement about your missin¡¯ mother? That strikes me as odd. I wonder¡ª¡±

    ¡°You can continue to wonder whatever you wish, but you have wasted enough of our time already. You have exactly¡­¡± he looked down at his watch, ¡°in twenty-seven minutes it will be two pm. You have until then to get any information you deem relevant from us. After that, we will be leaving.¡±

    ¡°You have some place to be in a hurry? Mr¡­? I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t catch your name.¡±

    ¡°That is because I did not give it. That can be the first question you ask when you start actually doing your job, detective.¡± This time emphasizing the whole word. ¡°And yes, we will be leaving for lunch at two pm. Due to your indiscretion and lack of consideration, none of us have eaten since last night.¡± Lionel¡¯s eyes never left the detective¡¯s. I could feel it¡¯s weight and it wasn¡¯t even directed at me. ¡°You are wasting time detective. Twenty-six minutes.¡±

    The detective stood there a moment as though weighing his options. The gears clearly working in his mind. He decided to try to disarm the situation with humor. ¡°Well, I can certainly understand a hungry stomach.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I got a pack of piranha at home that my wife calls children.¡±

    ¡°While you were talking, you just became twenty seconds further away from finding out what happened to Susan Lee. Twenty-five minutes, detective.¡±

    ¡°Ahem. Right. Follow me. We¡¯ll see if we can get you out of here by two for your lunch. This way.¡± He turned and began to walk toward one of the rooms off to the side of the hallway from the lobby we were sitting in.

    ¡°You are once again mistaken, detective.¡± My father called out. He hadn¡¯t moved an inch. His face could have been chiseled from stone, yet there wasn¡¯t an ounce of anger, or frustration; simply dead calm certainty. ¡°I was not making a suggestion earlier. All questions will stop and all doors will be open by two pm and we will be walking through them. This is not a negotiation. If you are finished playing games and attempting to gain the upper hand through verbal Judo, I advise you to stop now. You will lose.¡± Flicking his eyes down at his watch again, ¡°Twenty-four minutes.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The officer¡¯s calm facade began to crack and he gritted out through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Alright, Mr. No-name. We can talk in here.¡±

    It was a small room. It didn¡¯t have the utilitarian feel of the rest of the station. It was spartan, but also somehow intimate and comfortable, nothing at all like the cop shows on TV. Lionel immediately walked around to the far side of the table, pulling the two chairs from one side of the table and sliding them up to the other, facing the door. Detective Daniel¡¯s jaw clenched in a quick spasm as we sat down opposite of the single remaining chair. Lionel popped open his briefcase and removed a tape recorder from it and set it on the table, pressing record. Our phones had perfectly working recorders, but I had to admit, the aesthetic was impressive. The detective took a long look at the tape recorder before sitting down, placing a note pad on the table, and pulling a pen from his front shirt pocket. He clicked it and wrote ¡®Jackson Lee¡¯ at the top of the page.

    ¡°Your name, miss?¡± He directed at me.

    ¡°Jane Lee.¡±

    ¡°And Mr. No-name.¡± The last he shot toward my father.

    ¡°Lionel Joseph Lee.¡± He replied calmly.

    The detective paused in the middle of writing down both names below Jacksons¡¯.

    ¡°Lionel Lee? You¡¯re Susan Lee¡¯s husband? These kid¡¯s dad?¡±

    ¡°I thought that was evident, detective. Yes. I am the same.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re a lawyer?¡± He sounded unconvinced. ¡°I didn¡¯t see that anywhere in the paperwork we pulled when we started looking at the incident that happened this mornin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. The incident,¡± Lionel continued, ¡°we have finally come to it. It only took you over half a day to finally come to the point. Welcome back to work, detective Daniels. Now, as quickly and as completely as possible, and without undermining your current investigation; Please tell me what happened today regarding the scene in which my wife, Susan Lee¡¯s, vehicle was involved.¡±

    His words had the weight and feel of a contractual agreement.

    The big man¡¯s grip on the pen tightened for a long moment before he seemed to come to a decision. ¡°Your wife¡¯s car was found, upside-down on the corner of Robinson and Reno, right out in front of the Chesapeake Arena in downtown. There was an impact crater on the passenger side of the vehicle. Glass and debris patterns and a lack of brake marks indicated she was struck at speed. Our best guess is sixty to sixty five miles per hour with no attempt to stop. We found traces of blood on the air bags, her cell phone, and an empty leather laptop bag outside of the vehicle. Now do you think you can stop bustin¡¯ my balls for five seconds and work together with me to find out what happened to your wife?¡±

    ¡°Remain on the topic at hand, Daniels. Keep the questions pertinent to the investigation on finding my wife. If it is your procedure to waste as much time on the rest of this investigation as you have with us, I have a difficult time understanding how you made the grade.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Daniels now, huh? No ¡®detective¡¯?¡± He said, ignoring one jibe, but unable to dodge the other.

    ¡°That was a term I afforded you out of respect. You are quickly losing that. Seventeen minutes.¡±

    The detective sighed, exasperated. ¡°Look, you know the drill. I need the basics. Did she have any enemies? Did she seem afraid of anythin¡¯ or anyone? Has she been actin¡¯ strange or had any changes to her normal schedule that seemed out of place? Where was she headed this mornin¡¯? I need a direction to go in here, man. I can¡¯t solve a case without any clues, and right now all I got is a cell phone, a laptop bag, a busted car, and you three.¡±

    ¡°Her alarm went of at six a.m. this morning, she was up out of bed immediately which is unusual. She usually gets out of bed at 6:18 which is two cycles of her snooze alarm. She showered and got ready quickly and spent the next fifteen minutes, roughly, at her computer. She seemed surprised at the time and rushed to pack her things and was out the door after a quick kiss.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she seemed like she was in a real hurry. She even forgot her name badge this morning.¡± Jackson cut in quickly.

    ¡°What¡¯s that? She forgot her I.D. card?¡± Father asked, his left thumb beat a staccato rhythm on the handle of his briefcase, his face showing that this was news to him.

    ¡°Yeah, I saw it on the chair when I cleaned it off so Kaylin would have a place to sit.¡± Jackson glanced nervously between the two men. Detective Daniels pen scratched a note on his legal pad.

    ¡°Well, that is certainly out of the ordinary. She was on her way to work at Prometheus Corporation. She works for Infinity Entertainment which is a subsidiary of Prometheus, but they are all housed on the same campus. You cannot get past the guards without your security badge which doubles as a name tag. She would have had to turn around and come back to get it once she realized it was missing¡­¡± Lionel seemed lost in thought for a moment, before continuing. ¡°She does not have any enemies or people who wish her ill that I am aware of. She is highly regarded at all levels of both Infinity and Prometheus. Things have changed over the last few weeks, however. She has been more stressed, working longer hours, and I would almost say she has seemed nervous recently.¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re finally gettin¡¯ somewhere Mr. Lee. Tell me more about that.¡±

    I interrupted this time, ¡°I think thats all because of Infinity Online.¡±

    ¡°That sounds familiar. I think my kids have been talkin¡¯ about that.¡± Detective Daniels scratched another note on the note pad.

    ¡°It¡¯s the project she¡¯s been working on. A new fully immersive online role playing game. Prometheus just finished construction on their tower and now it¡¯s the tallest building in downtown. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen the building at least, if not all the commercials and bill boards. They¡¯re everywhere. No one¡¯s really settled on the jargon yet. Some are calling it FIVR ¡ª Fully Immersive Virtual Reality, or VRMMORPG, Virtual Reality Massively Multi-player Online Role Playing Game. But its all still the same. You can put on a headset that the company is shipping out for free to anyone who requests it and it lets you log into a virtual world that you can actually experience as if you are there inside of it. You can smell the flowers, feel the sunshine, taste the food.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not completely true, actually.¡± Jackson interrupted.

    ¡°Okay yeah, so Jack¡¯s right. The word is that the headsets only have limited immersive properties, and to get the real experience you need an actual Immersion Rig. The headsets are free, but the rigs aren¡¯t. Its one way they are paying for it all. Everyone can participate and whoever is willing or able to afford it can have an even more incredible experience.¡± Jackson was nodding along, we¡¯d both been looking for any an all information on the game since the very first key note address. ¡°It¡¯s going to change the way we interact online and open doors for incredible new innovations. Imagine¡ªfree education for anyone in the world online, board meetings, art and design, global projects where the teams can be brought together instantaneously. Mom is one of the programmers and IO is about to launch this week. So, of course she¡¯s stressed, working more, and nervous. It¡¯s a huge multi-billion dollar project.¡±

    ¡°Okay. It looks like I¡¯ve got a place to start. We can get the ball rolling and look into this work angle. If there is as much money on the table as you¡¯re talkin¡¯ there can easily be motive buried in there.¡± He finished jotting down information as I stopped talking before looking up. ¡°Just a few quick things so we can rule out factors outside of her work place. Anythin¡¯ I need to know on your guy¡¯s end? Any threats, or calls, or even just weird vibes? I need to make sure this isn¡¯t someone using Susan to get to one of you.¡±

    We all looked at each other, eye brows raised in one of those uniquely family things before Jackson and I shook our heads. Lionel spoke next.

    ¡°No, I do not think any of us have experienced anything like that, and I hardly get out of the house enough to make enemies. I have received no threats, demands, or dirty looks in some time, detective.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I appreciate everythin¡¯ you guys have told me. This is gonna to go a long way to helpin¡¯ to find Susan. One last thing. You said you don¡¯t get out of the house much. What did you say you do again mist¡­¡±

    ¡°I think we are starting to get off track again, detective, and your time is now up. We have a very important appointment to keep and I would like to thank you in advance for your diligence and hard work in this matter.¡± Lionel stood up abruptly, leaning forward into his space and extending a hand, which the officer took reflexively. ¡°If you have any questions or would like to contact me about your progress on the case, please use this number and not the emergency line you used before.¡± He took his hand back and reached into the briefcase to retrieve a business card and handed it over to the detective, his left hand still resting on the handle. There was no name or information on the card except for a ten digit phone number in bold print across the center. Lionel closed the case, snapped the clasps in place, and waved for us to follow him out the door.

    ¡°There¡¯s still more information that can help us with the case here Mr. Lee.¡± Detective Daniels called, following after us.

    ¡°I am sure that there is. Quite a lot of it, in fact.¡± Lionel pointed toward the doors we were heading for. ¡°Out there. Perhaps this is an experience you can learn from detective. If you would like less irate support next time, consider meeting me at the doors instead of making me and my family wait five hours in the lobby after your thugs delivered baseless threats to come arrest me in my home.¡± As we passed through the doors and into the afternoon daylight, he spoke over his shoulder. ¡°Find my wife, detective. Stop wasting time. She may not have any to spare.¡±

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3 - Jane

    Filing out of the front doors of the police station, we turned left towards the parked SUV. We wound our way through and around the stainless steel poles sticking out of the ground in front of the entrance of the station. Up ahead and on the left was a monument on the corner of Colcord and Shartel. Three thick-banded stainless steel rings spaced a few feet apart created an arch, meeting at a central point and framing three rectangle marble plaques underneath. Each were about the thickness of a tombstone. The central one was perhaps 8 feet tall escorted by the two others, about half its size on either side. The arch had the words Honor, Courage, Integrity, Sacrifice, Service, and Respect written¡ªone on each half of the three arches.

    I hooked my right elbow into Lionel¡¯s left and leaned into his shoulder while gently pulling the suitcase out of his hand. He groaned and stumbled a half step. He brought his hand to his head in pain as Jackson caught him up on his right. Together, we just stood there a second as dad took a series of deep, calming breaths.

    ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯m good now, Jane. Let¡¯s just get out of here. We¡¯ve got a lot to do.¡± He offered a shaky smile good naturedly as we began to walk again. As we passed the monument he paused, kissing me on the head, and slipping his arm out of mine. He walked to the central plaque. Another wave of pain seemed to rack him as he put his hand to his head again. His knees seemed to buckle. He turned it into a kneeling position, his head bent toward the bottom name carved in the marble: David Stone, 2013.

    ¡°I think he needs to see his old friend again.¡± Jackson said quietly, coming up to stand next to me. ¡°He¡¯s got to be thinking that none of this would have happened if he¡¯d still been around.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d probably be right, if all the story¡¯s are true. From what I remember of him he was a man to be reckoned with.¡± I said as I slowly approached dad and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning into him gently.

    ¡°Saved each other¡¯s lives in the war more times than we could really count,¡± He chuckled in remembrance. His voice had slipped into a more familiar cadence. The war. I¡¯d started noticing that all the veteran¡¯s I¡¯d met treated the wars they were in the same way. It was always the war, and there was only one going on in 2003. ¡°We even tried to keep track. Always trying to one-up the other, but it was useless when every day we should have gone home feet first. He made me laugh so hard that time I got Forrest Gump¡¯s ¡®million-dollar wound¡¯.¡± He barked a laugh. ¡°Kept coming around triage telling everyone who¡¯d listen how the bullet had ¡®jumped up and bit me¡¯ in that voice. Even brought me ice cream in a cone one time. Right there in the desert. Never did find out where he got it from. Started calling me Lieutenant Dan after that. Refused to listen to me when I pointed out he was mixing up the characters.¡± He took a deep, slow breath, reached out a hand to touch the name engraved there, and groaned as he climbed to his feet. ¡°He was a good friend. The best. His boy reminds me so much of him.¡± He put an arm around me and Jackson who had come up on his other side as we turned and headed over to the parking area on the other side of Shartel where the Explorer was parked.

    As we came up to the car, Jackson must have slid a hand into dad¡¯s suit pocket. He clicked the keyless entry and went around to the driver side door. Dad raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What do you think your doing, boy? This isn¡¯t a taxi service.¡± His eyebrows drew down.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t in any condition to drive and we both know it. I¡¯ve had my permit for two months and did that advanced driver safety training mom wanted me and Jane to do.¡± His voice softened a bit. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine dad, just sit back and relax and we¡¯ll be home in a bit.¡±

    Dad mumbled something, but climbed into the passenger side as I got into the back behind the driver¡¯s seat. Jackson started the car and put his seatbelt on with a meaningful look to the both of us. We put our belts on. He checked over his left shoulder, all three mirrors, and his right shoulder as if moving down a list and pulled smoothly onto Shartel. Despite just getting his permit, he really was a great driver. I¡¯d never tell him that of course, but he learned from mom. I, on the other hand, learned from dad. Dad had closed his eyes and leaned back into the headrest, crows feet appearing as he winced occasionally. I leaned forward from the back and draped a hand over his shoulder. He reached over and patted my hand with a weak smile.

    ¡°You were pretty hard on the detective back there. He seemed like a pretty good dude who really wanted to help.¡± Jackson said into the silence while merging onto the highway.

    ¡°Good intentions are like anus¡¯s, son. Everyone¡¯s got one but that don¡¯t mean anything good comes from them. He¡¯s following the rule book. Chapter and verse. No weapon in the interrogation room. Gain the person¡¯s confidence. If you make them laugh, you make them talk. He knows as well as I do that nine out of ten crimes, the victim knows the Perp. Chapter. And. Verse.¡± Dad sighed, his eyes still closed. ¡°There¡¯s a good reason my old friend isn¡¯t having coffee with me this morning. Instead his name is carved into that pretty wall.¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s certainly going to be looking into us a lot closer. He knows that what went on back there wasn¡¯t normal and he¡¯s going to want to know why.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right, son. I could have handled that differently. I just couldn¡¯t stand the bureaucratic red tape any more. The manipulation and power games while your mother is out there facing God knows what.¡± He pinched the bridge his nose with his right hand. ¡°Probably a line in the manual that covers letting us sit out there to soften us up before coming in as a savior to rescue us. Just brings back too many bad memories. I wanted to shut it down but couldn¡¯t play the game until one of them showed up at the table. Can¡¯t play poker with a wall.¡±

    ¡°Well¡± I said with a smile. ¡°I for one thought it felt really good to watch you crap in his cornflakes.¡± Dad smiled at that. ¡°He owed us that much for making us wait like they could care less what we had to say. It was like they just wanted to get us out of the house¡­¡± We all looked at each other, our eyes widening. ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯d need a warrant.¡± Jackson tried to rationalize. He sped up to just under 7 miles per hour over the speed limit. Gerald had said that was the lucky number that cop¡¯s would use to pull you over.

    Dad scoffed. ¡°Maybe once upon a time, now they just wave that Patriot Act like a get out of jail free card,¡± he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial 4. ¡°Gerald. You hear what happened?¡± He paused, listening. ¡°Figured you would. They kept us tied down at the station and we¡¯re starting to get the feeling that they did it on purpose. Something big is happening, Stone.¡± He paused to listen a moment. ¡°What¡¯s the word?¡± Whatever Gerald said it didn¡¯t seem to be good. ¡°Hold on, I¡¯ll switch you to speaker.¡± He hit a button on the dash and then his phone. A deep commanding voice came over the SUV speakers.

    ¡°Code is Blue Falcon until further notice.¡± It was military slang most think originated in the 82nd Airborne Infantry and literally meant when someone screwed over their buddy. Hence the initials. What it meant for us, I would rather not have considered. Until we figured out what was going on we were to activate our response plan and treat everyone who was not ¡°inside¡± as if they were potentially one of the bad guys. Gerald must have gotten some information that there was something going on internal. Whether that meant with the Police, Prometheus, or in our circles, we didn¡¯t know, but we¡¯d work the plan. ¡°I¡¯m already headed to the house. I¡¯ll see you in ten.¡± Then he hung up. He never liked unsecured lines, it was just one of his things.

    ¡°This steaming pile just keeps getting deeper and deeper.¡± Dad threw the phone into the cup holder in the center console.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this got to do with mom?¡± I asked, squeezing dad¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know sweet-heart. I don¡¯t know what that woman¡¯s got herself into, but I think¡ª¡±

    We never got to hear what dad thought.

    Glass shattered. The world jolted and spun. I braced my hand on the ceiling and front seat as my head hit the window, shattering it. The side airbag deployed like a second punch to the head. My vision shrank to a pinpoint.

    Time flickered as I looked out the wind shield to see a black Ford Econoline reversing a few feet before coming to a stop. I could distinctly make out the reinforced grill guard bolted to the front of the van.

    My seat belt dug into my shoulders and chest. Gravity was all wrong. Sounds came erratically and were washed out by a high-pitched keening. It reminded me of a story Gerald once told about being mortared once. He called it ¡®losing the show¡¯. He had good stories. He had good everything. I found myself fascinated by an intricate series of red trails of liquid as they ran up my arms, dripped from my finger tips, and fell into the sky to patter against the ceiling.

    Footsteps approached.

    I saw two men dressed in black fatigues and masks pulling an older man out of the passenger seat window. He seemed familiar. The man in the passenger seat, I mean. I couldn¡¯t recognize the paramedics with those weird masks on. At least he¡¯s getting help. I looked back down at my arms. I could probably use some help.

    Tires screeched to a halt nearby. A recognizable voice was shouting. All I could make out was: ¡°Get down on the ground, now!¡±

    A shotgun blast broke through the haze and one of the men staggered. Who¡¯s shooting the paramedics, I wondered.

    They dropped my dad.

    Realization jolted my awareness.

    ¡°Dad!¡± I tried to shout, weakly reaching out to him. It came out as a hoarse groan.

    The second man in fatigues grabbed his downed partner and I saw them climb back into the black van. As it backed up another loud report exploded the spider-webbed windshield. The van peeled out in a swirl of smoke and was gone.

    Footsteps approached.

    ¡°You gonna¡¯ be okay.¡± Detective Daniel¡¯s voice rumbled reassuringly next to my ear as he reached over and unhooked my seat belt.

    Blackness overtook me as I fell free.

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4 - Jackson

    ¡°He¡¯s coming around.¡± The voice was too loud and the light coming in through my slitted eyes was too bright. I groaned in protest. Mom did this crap all the time. She¡¯d come in and just turn the light on and pull the covers off me so I couldn¡¯t drag them up over my head. I really wasn¡¯t feeling that well. She¡¯d probably let me stay home today. She could always tell when I was faking it. My head pounded. My stomach churned in my belly. I felt tuned up like I¡¯d gone for a jog down 10th street in a All Lives Matter t-shirt.

    The van. The shattered glass. The screams. The world spinning. Gun shots. Dad. Jane.

    My eyes snapped open and I sat up with a jolt, my heart hammering, my breathing coming in choking gasps.

    ¡°I need help over here!¡± A female voice yelled out next to me, then quieter. ¡°Hey. Hey. It¡¯s going to be okay. You¡¯re fine. Everyone¡¯s fine. You¡¯ve got a few bumps and bruises and a broken arm.¡± The pain registered next. It exploded in a torrential flow of molten lead up from my wrist, through my shoulder, and settled into my teeth. I bit back a scream as I lay back down. My arm. Not good. I remembered bracing my arm in front of me just before the van hit. The driving course said that airbags at deployed over 200 mph. It must have smashed my arm into my face. Now that I thought about my face, I felt like I could really sympathize with Rihanna. Chris Brown really needed some pipe bangin¡¯ thugs to go to work on him with a pair of pliers and a blow torch.

    ¡°What does Marsellus Wallace look like?¡± I murmured past my swollen nose.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s still incoherent, doctor. He¡¯s not making any sense.¡±

    I groaned loudly as I shifted to a more comfortable spot.

    ¡°No more than usual,¡± I said through the tears that sprang up from the bright light the doctor shined in my eyes a moment later.

    ¡°Mild concussion. That¡¯s to be expected.¡± The doctor spoke to the nurse and then turned to me. ¡°You were very lucky actually, young man.¡± He paused with a small smile. ¡°What¡¯s the other guy look like?¡±

    I chuckled. It hurt. ¡°I was actually on the winning side if you can believe it. Damsels were distressed. The light of good prevailed. Darkness was vanquished. Where¡¯s my sister and my dad?¡± I suddenly asked the question that had been sitting in the back of my mind.

    The smile on the doctor¡¯s mouth faded. ¡°Jane¡¯s fine. Nasty cut on her head. Your dad got the worst of it though. Three broken ribs, multiple contusions and cuts and a broken left tibia. We think that last happened when he was pulled from the vehicle. There¡¯s a detective Daniels watching over Jane and a¡ª¡± he glanced down at his clipboard, ¡°Gerald Stone, waiting out in the hall to fill you in if you think you¡¯re ready for a visitor.¡±

    ¡°Gerald? Sure doc I¡¯m pretty sure my nose is broken and I¡¯d love to see one that¡¯s been in worse shape than mine.¡±

    The doctor huffed out a laugh and patted me on my shoulder. He had enough foresight to use my good arm. The doctor and nurse filed out of the room and waved Gerald inside. The nurse eyed Gerald as if trying to place a celebrity. The doctor shooed her on.

    Gerald swept into the room like a typhoon on an unsuspecting shoreline. He moved with the easy grace of a predator and had the size and rough dimensions of a bear. If anyone asked what he looked like¡ªhis favorite response was ¡°a serial killer¡±. His head was shaved clean and his square jaw could put Duke Nukem to shame. His mouth was fixed in a perpetual line and his eyebrows pulled down into a scowl. I winced in pain as I smiled at the thought of him with a cigar and throwing out lines about being all out of bubble gum. Whatever¡¯s in this IV, I like it.

    ¡°How long was I out? Did the DVR get that last episode of Thrones?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been in and out a whole day. It¡¯s Wednesday. As to the other. We¡¯ll get you back on the couch with some potato chips in no time.¡±

    ¡°I let them down, Gerald.¡± My humor evaporated, as I focused in on what I had been trying to avoid thinking about. ¡°I should have seem them coming. Done something.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of horse crap, son. Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep your head down, get some, and hope you survive. Did you know that you turned into that van at the last second? That took some brass balls kid. You took the hit on the front quarter panel instead of on the passenger side door. You saved your dad¡¯s life with that move. I¡¯ve seen ten year veterans freeze and react less competently than you did in a handful of seconds. Don¡¯t second guess yourself, soldier. When your back was up against the wall you did everything you could, and it made a difference.¡± Somehow the steady, no-nonsense surety of his words struck me harder than all theempty compliments and platitudes. I started to cry. Deep, racking sobs that caused the pain in my arm to lance through my body. I couldn¡¯t stop it if I wanted to. My hands shook. My vision blurred.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to do. I don¡¯t know what to do. It all felt like a dream. A nightmare.¡± My words came out in a heaving mess. I wiped the tears that fell freely as best as I could. I eventually stopped as it hurt to much to touch anywhere near my nose. A big hand rested on the back of my head and tilted my eyes to look up.

    ¡°You did a hell of a job out there, son. Nobody could¡¯ve asked for more. What you¡¯re going to do next is just sit here and let yourself feel. Soak it up. Don¡¯t push it down. It¡¯s your body¡¯s way of dealing with everything that happened. We¡¯ve learned a lot in the last fifty years about trauma and you can¡¯t man up enough to put those feelings down and come out the other side a healthy human being. Just be in the moment and process what¡¯s going on right now. The next hour and the next day are going to take care of themselves.¡±

    My mind raced as I thought back on everything that had happened. Mom. The police station. The accident. All of the uncertainty and the entire screwed up situation. None of this was supposed to happen to me. I was supposed to go to school. I was supposed come home to sit down to lasagna and four-cheese garlic bread. All my life I¡¯ve had a network of support and strength that I knew would always be there for me. Only that¡¯s all falling apart. I¡¯m losing everything one crazy thing at a time. I missed my mom.

    Stolen story; please report.

    As if reading my mind Gerald spoke up next. His words traced a line of mingling fire and ice down into my belly.

    ¡°They found your mom this morning.¡± He stated simply. I stared at him blankly, unable to breathe. He just extended a hand out to me and helped me up to my feet, taking my weight onto his left side. Okay, let¡¯s be honest. He carried me and let me keep my dignity.

    I was physically and emotionally exhausted. We rounded a corner and down a long hallway until we came to a set of double doors marked Intensive Care Ward. He pressed the buzzer and after a simple ¡°Lee, room 5¡± a buzzer sounded and we pushed through. We made our way down the hallway. Detective Daniels was sitting in a simple wooden chair outside of the room. I gave him a quick nod of acknowledgment, which he returned with an air of sympathy.

    After a soft knock on the door with a large number 5 on it, Gerald pushed our way inside. The only thing that kept my feet moving was the thought that they wouldn¡¯t have her in a room if she was dead. Jane was curled up on the small couch, wrapped in a blanket. Gauze wreathed her head and she leapt up to wrap me in a powerful hug. I grunted in pain which turned into a sort of low moan.

    ¡°Easy there little sister. I may be the big brother but I¡¯m pretty beat up.¡±

    ¡°Two minutes!¡± Her voice was muffled in the scrubs I had been changed into. A thought struck me, along with a breeze. Where were my pants?

    I chuckled and relaxed as we fell into old rhythms. She pulled back and I finally got a look at the bed in the room. Mom was laying in the center of one of those beds with all the dials and functions. Her face was too pale and there was something about her. Some undefinable quality that was missing. She had a thin tube down her throat and another pair pressed into her nose. Laid out next to her was another bed butting up against hers. Dad was awake on it. His hand reached over and was holding mom¡¯s hand tight. I gently pushed away from Gerald and Jane and gingerly walked over to dad¡¯s bed. I pressed my face into his shoulder and slid my hand along to his other shoulder and did the best I could to give him a hug.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay, dad.¡±

    ¡°Me too, son. It¡¯s good to see you up and about.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on with mom?¡± I asked as I walked over to the other side and took her hand.

    ¡°No one knows.¡± Dad sighed. ¡°They found her laid out neatly in an upscale hotel, she was going down hill after they found her.¡± His voice was steady, despite his injuries. ¡°She¡¯s on full ventilation and drips. That stuff isn¡¯t as unsightly and invasive as it once was but she¡¯s not doing too good. We keep knocking but no one¡¯s home. They¡¯ve done scans and can¡¯t find any brain function.¡± The news struck me like a blow. I felt like a rung out rag. My eyes stung but the tears refused to come. I steadied myself. I breathed. Prioritize and execute. Work the plan.

    ¡°Okay. So we need to find out what¡¯s wrong. Which means we need you to come home as soon as you can and we can look into this.¡±

    Dad looked at me sadly. ¡°Son, I¡¯m not going anywhere. I¡¯m staying right here next to your mother.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I felt shocked. ¡°We can¡¯t sit around and just wait for a miracle dad. This is your thing isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re good at this kind of stuff. We can do some research and figure out a way to fix her. She needs you dad. I need you.¡± That last, I was barely able to squeeze out.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I am good at this stuff. I¡¯ve already done the research and there¡¯s nothing that covers this. She does need me. She needs me right here. It¡¯s going to take me some time to heal up, but even if it didn¡¯t I¡¯m not leaving your mother¡¯s side. This is the kind of situation that separates the men from the boys.¡±

    ¡°The men? You¡¯re going to sit here and give up and still act like thats what a man does? You¡¯ve told me a thousand times that men are warriors. We need you dad. We need you to suit up and get out there and fight with us. You¡¯re not going to be doing anyone any good sitting in here and twiddling your thumbs.¡±

    ¡°You got no idea what good I can or can¡¯t do or where it could be done. You think at sixteen you¡¯ve got a grasp on how the world works and the shape of it? You couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. The world doesn¡¯t line up in neat rows for you, boy. Its messy and its mean, and there¡¯s no silver bullet out there that¡¯s going to kill the monsters that come your way. The world don¡¯t revolve around you and what you want. You¡¯re not the most important thing in this household. You kids are valuable beyond what I can possibly mention but you¡¯re not the center of the universe. In a couple years you both are going to set out and find your own lives and live them. But I settled on that twenty years ago when I made a covenant with your mother that I would stand by her side in sickness and in health and I¡¯ll be damned if I go back on that word when she needs me most.¡± His jaw tightened as the words spilled out. They struck like hammer blows¡ªall the more because I could understand where he was coming from.

    It didn¡¯t change anything though. I needed him. We needed him. Mom needed him. He was running away from his responsibilities and abandoning me. Abandoning mom. Tears stung my eyes again. Perfect. Just what I needed. My lip trembled in a muddied mixture of rage, need, disappointment, and longing.

    ¡°You know dad. There¡¯s a lot of things you¡¯ve been over the years, but I never thought that one of them would be a coward. Fine. You sit here and wallow in self pity and I¡¯ll go out and find the bastards that did this.¡± I whipped around, ignoring the dizziness it caused and pushed past the anxious face of Jane and the hard face of Gerald. I wandered the halls for a time, aimless, before I found myself back in my room. I curled up on the uncomfortable bed. My mind was awash in uncertainty, doubt, and fear. I took slow, calming breaths before I remembered a saying that death is a door one person wide. We walk through it alone. It turns out that life isn¡¯t so different.

    I wasn¡¯t sure how I was going to do it, but I was going to find out who hurt mom, and I was going to make them pay.

 Chapter 5

    Chapter 5 - Jane

    We stayed another night at the hospital before getting up early and making our way back to the house with Gerald in tow. Jackson sat aloof in the back seat with his arms crossed tightly across his chest and staring fixedly out of the tinted and reinforced passenger window. Detective Daniels insisted on coming with us and sat up front in the passenger seat. I¡¯d found out after the accident that Jackson was right.

    Daniel¡¯s had become suspicious after our meeting at the police station and made a spur of the moment decision to follow us. He was convinced that we had something to do with mom¡¯s disappearance. He was two cars behind us when he saw the van smash into the passenger side of the Explorer and flip it onto its roof. His side arm was still locked in a biometric safe in the glove box, but his service shotgun was holstered with its butt in the cup in the back seat. He issued the proper warnings to the men and when one reached into his waist band he took the shot. He took a second one into the wind shield when it looked like they were going to try to angle the van at him. At this point, he was fairly convinced that we weren¡¯t in on whatever was going on, but that we were still in the middle of it. Like us, he wanted answers.

    A few minutes later we pulled into the driveway in Gerald¡¯s original Hummer H1. As we came up to the house we could see the door was open. The place had been tossed. It was thorough and professional. All of the contents of the cabinets and dressers were set into neat piles on the floor. The love seat was set backside down and the fireplace guard was folded and leaning against the brick off to one side. The whole scene sent the message: This isn¡¯t personal. You¡¯ve got something I need and I have a job to do. It made a chill run up my spine when I weighed that against the other message we¡¯d received from the black Econoline.

    ¡°Anyone you know?¡± I said with an arch look at the detective.

    ¡°It¡¯s a professional job alright. But I don¡¯t think it was us. I hope it wasn¡¯t us because I didn¡¯t hear anythin¡¯ about it and that would mean someone¡¯s pullin¡¯ strings in the department. This wasn¡¯t authorized or reported and whatever you might think, I wasn¡¯t keepin¡¯ you guys sittin¡¯ out there as some kinda power play. Crime scenes are a bitch and a half to work through, organize, and make sense of. I needed as much information as I could to ask the right questions, which is the job.¡±

    I held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding. Whether I was agreeing with his statement, accepting his apology, or just acknowledging that I¡¯d heard him, I couldn¡¯t say.

    Mom¡¯s ID badge was still sitting on the bar along with more odds and ends stacked up next to it. Jackson had walked over and was holding it by the lanyard in his hand, staring at mom¡¯s picture. He blinked quickly, clearing his throat, and put the badge into his pocket.

    Gerald moved to the kitchen and was casually pulling lunch meats and cheeses from the refrigerator and quickly creating a small mountain of sandwiches. ¡°First rule in the army is eat when you can and I know hospitals have jack all for edible food. Eat up.¡± He pointed the butter knife with mayo at the heaped plate. We didn¡¯t exactly dog pile the plate but we weren¡¯t shy about it either. I sat down on the floor in front of the stairs with a ham sandwich in one hand and a turkey in the other, half gone. I leaned my head back on the wall and my eyes stared, unfocused as I ate.

    Every three steps or so on the stairs there was a picture hanging on the wall. The first was of me and Jackson. We were maybe a year old. I was in an awkward downward dog pose with my head touching the ground and looking between my straightened legs back at the camera, my hair was blond and wispy then. Jackson was standing at a sing along play table with a pacifier in his mouth and his distinctive blue helmet on his head with Kansas University Jayhawks stickers on both sides. It made him look like a tiny linebacker. Even in the picture you could tell he had three or four pounds on me. The next were a series of one or both of us celebrating milestones. The time I won a science award from an academic contest sponsored and run by MIT. Jackson¡¯s Akido and Jui Jitsu belt testing and awards and some of the knives and armor he¡¯d made with dad. My 1st place sharpshooter awards in the pistol and distance shooting. I was mediocre at best in tactical gunfu but I was hell on wheels if you gave me a little time and space. There was one with the both of us in it winning an national contest against the top ranked team in raiding a particular dungeon in a popular MMORPG. It was a speed run to see who could complete it in the fastest time and the crowd was simply electric. The last one was Jackson standing in front of the wall of awards for archery. He was a bona fide prodigy with the ranged weapon and it tickled dad to death when he brought him out LARPing with him. Just last month he had qualified for the Youth Olympic Games this Spring. He went for it this year because the games would be held in Los Angeles and he¡¯d be able to afford to go if he qualified.

    While we ate, Gerald came to stand in front of us and put his finger to his lips. He went through every room of the house, unplugging everything electronic. He even pulled out the fridge and then went into the garage where I heard the sounds of things moving. He walked outside for a few minutes and came back in. After that he moved to each of us and pulled out his cell phone, miming for us to hand ours to him. We did. You couldn¡¯t remove the batteries, but he pulled out what looked to be a lead bread box and dumped the phones inside before closing the lid. Out of a desert brown backpack he pulled out what looked like a hand radio and turned it on. There was a slight distortion that quickly went out of hearing range.

    ¡°Radio jammer.¡± His voice filled the stillness. Reaching into the bag, he brought out new phones and handed them out. ¡°You know the protocol. Only the names on the contact list, and only if its urgent.¡± He looked at each of us, even detective Daniels until we nodded. ¡°All right. I¡¯ve gotten wind of some big movers in the wings. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but for them to be acting this boldly, its a big deal. All of the clues are adding up to a big boy in Prometheus Corporation who¡¯s looking for something and they thought Susan had it.¡±

    ¡°¡®Thought Susan had it¡¯?¡± Daniels murmured around a mouthful of sandwich.

    ¡°Yeah. Thought. If she had what they wanted they wouldn¡¯t have needed to lean on the police department to get the family out of the house and then toss the place. Whoever this is they¡¯ve got enough sway to move organizations like puzzle pieces. Whatever it was they were looking for, they didn¡¯t find it here either, unless they¡¯re pro¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked this time.

    ¡°There was never a point where they stopped searching the place. They went over everything. You should see the garage. If they¡¯d found what they were looking for there would¡¯ve been a clear point in time where they packed things up and left.¡±

    ¡°Unless they found what they wanted and kept searching to give the impression that they didn¡¯t find anything.¡± Detective Daniels pointed out.

    ¡°My point exactly. That¡¯s exactly what they would do if they were hard cases. But even still, I don¡¯t think so. Something like this is a delicate job. There are people driving by in the street, mail men, joggers. There¡¯s a lot of opportunity for someone to catch them tossing this house and call it in. Or you guys could have come back early. My gut tells me they didn¡¯t find what they were looking for. Whatever it is, they wanted it bad. They never stopped looking until they¡¯d gone through everything.¡±

    ¡°So. What does that mean for us?¡± I swallowed my food a little more forcefully than necessary.

    ¡°It means we go into bug out mode. We fall back on one of our safe houses and keep our heads down. If they haven¡¯t found what they were looking for, it means we¡¯re all in danger. Jane. I need you to go in there and check those capsules over with a fine toothed comb.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡± I¡¯d filled him in on the lottery and the delivery of the capsules while Jackson was in recovery.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s some nasty programming in the code and it¡¯s probably bugged as well. There aren¡¯t many people with the kind of sway needed to pull all of this off and the top of the list is Prometheus. It¡¯s easily within their power to push these kind of buttons. This just feels too easy. They handed those things over without batting and eye. Won a lottery? None of you knew about it? Give me a break. I¡¯d rather just leave the rigs here, but I think they might be just the key we need to figure out what¡¯s going on and who¡¯s behind it. But, in order for it to work we need to out maneuver the enemy, and that means cleaning up those rigs.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    I nodded and went into the room and plugged my laptop into the capsule with a cable. I started running some programs that looked like nothing more than a series of coded lines rapidly flashing across the screen. I could hear them still talking in the living room.

    ¡°How are the Immersion Rigs going to help us find who did this to mom?¡± Jackson had finally finished his sandwiches and I heard him sprawl out on the love seat. He still seemed sullen, but at the mention of mom his voice became more animated.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get into that when we¡¯re secure. The jammer should¡¯ve done the trick but we can¡¯t be afford to be sloppy.¡±

    The doorbell rang a few minutes later and I left the programs to run and came out to the living room. I¡¯ll be damned if Gerald didn¡¯t pull a Desert Eagle from the sticky holster at his hip and walk to the door. The man was built like an Olympian which is the only way he was able to hide the thing. If his shirts weren¡¯t fitted, it made him look like a barrel on legs. My heart beat a little faster. He used a mirror to look through the peep hole while standing behind the steel reinforced door he¡¯d installed himself. This was getting so 007. My inner Bond girl squealed. He nodded to himself and put away the gun and the mirror and swung the door open.

    A young man and a woman stepped inside. She was wearing a soft vintage long sleeve baseball shirt in white and pink with a camo-pink baseball cap and off white Capri''s with thonged sandals. He was casual in boot cut jeans, black T-shirt and a baseball cap with an axe-wielding orc embroidered on the front and worn tennis shoes. They looked like teenagers our age. I looked closer. Past their care-free smiles I saw eyes made from blue diamond and cold gray steel.

    ¡°Jackson¡ªJane. These are a couple of associates of mine. This is Jackson.¡± He pointed at the young man. ¡°And this is Jane.¡± He gave us each a pointed look. ¡°They¡¯re going to be staying here in your place while we get to the hard point. Anything happens and these two are going to handle it. They¡¯re trouble shooters. If trouble comes around. They shoot it. Jane. I activated that program you coded for me last year. All records, including driver¡¯s licenses and everything electronic with your information has been updated with their pictures and descriptions. Social media profiles have been scrubbed and the one¡¯s we¡¯ve had simulating activity have been activated in their place.¡± He turned to the couple. ¡°Did you bring them?¡±

    Jackson¡ªOh who am I kidding. I can¡¯t call him that. He¡¯s going to be¡­ Krul and she¡¯s going to be Blondie. She had the hair dyed right, but she missed the eyebrows. A little secret here; we always miss the eyebrows. Krul gave Gerald a put upon look.

    ¡°Alright. Back it into the garage.¡±

    Krul left and I heard a motor start up as Gerald opened the garage door and hit the opener. He turned to me.

    ¡°How¡¯s that debugging coming along?¡±

    ¡°Crap!¡± I ran back into the room and pulled up the data file. I whistled loudly and I could hear a small crowd gather in the doorway behind me.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Daniels asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with the coding. I mean. It¡¯s all Greek to me. I¡¯ve never seen anything like this, but I know what virus¡¯s and back doors look like and this thing is clean. Too clean.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®too clean¡¯¡±? Gerald came to stand next to me, leaning in. My breathing picked up. Oh, god. He could probably tell. He was like, Jason Borne or something. They had their senses ratcheted up to the nth degree. I turned my attention back to the program.

    ¡°When you code, everyone has their own style¡ªkind of like a signature and you tend to use the same shortcuts and work arounds for complicated maths. This is something altogether different. This thing reads like a Nobel Prize Laurette¡¯s Magnum Opus on coding. There¡¯s stuff in here that would revolutionize algorithms and change the landscape of coding for decades if not centuries.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said it was Greek to you.¡± Gerald¡¯s brows were lowered.

    ¡°I guess it means something a little different coming from me. I actually understand Greek. What I¡¯m saying is. I know what the bad stuff looks like and how to use it to do bad things, and it¡¯s not here. Just because I haven¡¯t seen their scripts for immersion doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t know what malicious code looks like. This.¡± My chest tightened and I shook my head. ¡°This makes me want to cry. It¡¯s beautiful.¡± I paused. Taking it in. ¡°You were right about one thing on the hardware side though.¡± I pulled a thin screw driver and applied it to a number of screws and came up with three tiny devices. ¡°Here¡¯s the bugs you were looking for. My computer was able to run a self-diagnostic on the capsule and these things stood out like a sore thumb. After that it was easy to pinpoint them on the actual hardware.¡±

    Gerald took them, dropped them onto the wood floors and crushed them with his booted foot. ¡°Great work Jane. Get the other one cleaned up if you would please while we load this one up.¡± My heart did a weird twist at his praise.

    ¡°Load it where?¡± Jackson asked.

    Gerald just walked around to the far side of the Immersion Rig and pulled the thick pins from the hinges attaching the clamshell lid to the bottom of the capsule. Lifting it up in a smooth motion, he twisted and rested it against the wall behind him and grabbed up the bottom part of the capsule. His muscles bunched and knotted as the walked it through the doorway like a surfer heading to the beach. Oh, wow I thought, taking in the sight.

    Fingers snapped in front of my face, breaking me free from my trance with a blush. Jackson shook his head as he left the room, heading for the garage.

    I set the program to scanning again and followed him to the garage. Krul was already there and pulling the tops of two large jet ski¡¯s on a towing trailer off to reveal hidden compartments underneath. The compartments went well below the actual frame of the jet ski¡¯s and into the trailer itself. Krul came over and wrapped the rig up in one of those thick furniture mats you find in the back of U-hauls¡¯. It hid everything and it simply seemed like they were carrying a piece of furniture. Gerald grunted as he set one corner down into the recessed bottom while Krul helped him stabilize it and drop it in.

    ¡°One of the backup plans was to use these to smuggle people or goods or whatever we¡¯d need.¡± Gerald said, wiping his forehead with his arm. ¡°Couldn¡¯t really know what we¡¯d need it for so I made sure to make them big. It¡¯s the six P¡¯s. Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.¡± He said the last with a smile as he slipped back inside.

    The diagnostic finished soon afterward and I grabbed up the screw driver and handed Gerald five more of the little devices which he destroyed in the same way as before. A few minutes later and we had the next capsule loaded up, along with me and Jackson in the back seat of the Avalanche that was towing the jet ski¡¯s. Daniels sat up front in the passenger seat. Gerald threw the keys to the Hummer to Krul and Blondie before giving them a few last orders, including ¡°don¡¯t scratch the paint¡±, before jumping into the driver seat and pulling out onto the street. I looked back to see the other two smiling and waving. Blondie even bounced like a school kid. I shook my head and turned back to the front.

    ¡°So where to, Bond?¡± I asked with a smirk. ¡°And whats the deal with the rigs?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re headed to the Bastille.¡± He tried to keep that hard demeanor but couldn¡¯t stop a half smile from breaking though the granite of his features. ¡°A little bird told me after a friendly conversation that those capsules from the lottery have some special role to play in the grand opening of Infinity Online. Something about special features or bonuses or something. He didn¡¯t know specifics and trust me, he would have been more than happy to shorten our conversation.¡± Jackson and I both turned to look first at Gerald and then at each other at the words ¡®special¡¯ and ¡®bonuses¡¯ together in one sentence. Even Jackson broke out into a giddy grin and we high-fived each other. We sobered up quickly when Gerald reminded us about mom. ¡°Whatever is going on. Whatever this is, I found out that it all comes back to this new game from your mom¡¯s work. The headsets are all being delivered today and everyone who¡¯s anyone is going to be logging in to play. The best chance we¡¯re going to have to find answers is inside of that game. And I¡¯m coming with you.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Chapter 6 - Jackson

    The Bastille was what we called the slightly run down studio apartment in downtown OKC. There was a large freight elevator as you walked into the building with a metal reticulating fence that folded open and closed. Gerald had backed the trailer under the protected overhang of one of the pay to use parking spaces. It partially hid the Jet ski¡¯s and helped to make it seem like we were simply taking furniture from the pickup or trailer.

    Gerald took the heavier bottom piece of the rig and Jane and I took the top part. It was awkward and more painful than I let show, trying to carry my end with the cast on my left forearm. I could rest the edge of the capsule on the cast without any problems. It was just when I tried to grip anything or put any weight on the actual hand that I¡¯d break out in a bloom of sweat at the jolts of pain exploding up my arm. We loaded the first one into the freight elevator and took it down to the basement. Detective Daniels stayed with the truck. His badge and presence would be enough to stop anyone from asking too many questions.

    Gerald and dad had set this location up years ago and said that they¡¯d gotten an incredible deal for the basement. No one seemed to want to pay for the gloomy underground space, but it was perfect for our needs. The studio took up the apartment building¡¯s entire bottom floor. There was a small but tidy kitchen off to the right as you come in the door as well as a three person couch across from a 55¡± wall mounted television, two recliners, and a large rug placed on the floor in the living room. In the back of the flat were the bedrooms. The floor had been a completely open layout but we came here with Gerald and he¡¯d shown us how to do some ¡°fast and dirty¡± drywall. We set up the four large bedrooms in the back with a hallway down the center. There were three queen sized beds and a king along with a utilitarian layout similar to what you¡¯d find in a standard hotel. The military precision was evident. Bed, dresser, lamp, table, one each. Jane clicked on the television and turned it to the news as Gerald assembled the capsule.

    ¡°¡­ are excited about the new release of a potentially generation-changing technology: Infinity Online created by Infinity Entertainment, a subsidiary of Prometheus Corporation.¡± A blond 30-something news anchor was speaking into a microphone outside of Prometheus Corporate Headquarters. ¡°Infinity Online has finally completed its Alpha and Beta testing and is now ready to go live tomorrow morning at 9am Central Standard Time. Infinity Entertainment has also released some exciting news for new users. They have worked hard at making an incredible product and have stated that they will be putting their money where their mouth is. If you find and submit a bug, glitch, or exploit, they are willing to reimburse you on a scaling system based on the nature and degree of the bug found. You can locate the reimbursement table on our website at¡­¡±

    We wasted no time in getting back upstairs and getting the next rig loaded up. We were as fast and as careful as we could be opening up the hidden compartment and pulling the expensive equipment out and putting the jet ski¡¯s back together. We got the second capsule loaded into the apartment, assembled, and plugged in. Jane ran a second series of diagnostics to make sure everything was still good. Gerald told us he was going to step out and take the trailer back to the house and leave it there. He would also pick up two of the four headsets that had arrived in the mail just after we¡¯d left, according to our doubles.

    Before he left he shared a long look with detective Daniels before walking over to the back closet. He opened the door and flipped a catch on the inside. A rough-cut but serviceable part of the wall came free and swung open to reveal a small arsenal. He pulled out a rifle I recognized immediately as an M1-A4 and handed it to Jane along with a set of magazines. He handed me a Glock with two spare magazines and reached back inside and came out with a FNH Mark 1 Police pump action shotgun and a box of shells which he handed to Daniels.

    ¡°I heard you were pretty good with one of these.¡± He said to the big black man.

    ¡°You know, all this is making me reconsider whether you guys know more than you¡¯re tellin¡¯ me about what happened to Susan.¡± Daniels said, inspecting the shotgun carefully.

    ¡°This hasn¡¯t got anything to do with Susan. This is all me, my dad, and Lionel. We¡¯ve been preppers before there was even a word for it. We were banking on zombies. Well I know I was,¡± I raised my hand, nodding my head enthusiastically, ¡°but I guess this whole thing is about as close as we¡¯re going to get.¡± He turned to us. ¡°You don¡¯t leave this room. You don¡¯t go outside until I get back. You don¡¯t go outside with those weapons at all. I know you kids and I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s legal for you to be carrying those around. If someone comes through that door without giving the signal. Shoot first and interrogate the body.¡± I nodded, ejected the clip, checked the slide awkwardly by bracing it against the edge of my cast and cleared the chamber. I set the gun on a small end table near my capsule on the far wall of the room that I had claimed as mine with the slide locked back and the three clips laid out next to the weapon. Gerald moved back to the closet, tripped the catch and returned the hidden compartment back to where he¡¯d found it. He made his way to the front door and began to open it when detective Daniels spoke again.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Stone.¡± Gerald looked back. ¡°I been meanin¡¯ to ask you. You the same Gerald Stone that won two¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not. That man is dead and buried. Don¡¯t bring it up again.¡± Gerald¡¯s face could have been carved from granite. He closed the door firmly and the metal gates of the freight elevator could be heard closing. The elevator activated and moved up to the first floor.

    ¡°He lyin¡¯?¡± Daniels asked me with a raised eyebrow.

    I sighed. ¡°Yes and no. He really did lose something of himself over there. He doesn¡¯t like to talk about it. He refused to be interviewed or do a dog and pony for the military. His family still gets calls from talk shows and journalists¡ªhe¡¯s too hard to trace so they try to get to him through them. He¡¯s never once returned a phone call or given them the time of day. The only thing he¡¯s told me is that what he did over there, he did for his brothers, and not for a flag, or fame, or any arm-chair politicians and bureaucrats.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Was all Daniels said. And I guess, that said it all.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be at the station or something? I thought it was kind of weird that you were following us around.¡±

    ¡°Took some vacation.¡± He said simply. ¡°It¡¯s also part of the job. Whatever this is, it¡¯s puttin¡¯ pressure on my bosses. After the ambulance took you guys away, they gave me the third degree about followin¡¯ you and gettin¡¯ involved. Seemed to think I should¡¯ve let those guys throw you in the van and drive away. We had¡­ a disagreement and I was reassigned. I decided to take some vacation and here I am because, well. I¡¯m stubborn. Let¡¯s just put it that way.¡± I nodded and held out my fist. He bumped it. ¡°Alright, man. I gotta know. How they doin¡¯ all this? It can¡¯t be cheap keepin¡¯ up with one of these safe houses much less multiple ones. Guns, gizmos, and God only knows what else. Who are you people?¡±

    Jane laughed at that. ¡°I figured you¡¯d be closer to this type of culture than most. Make no mistake, it is a culture, an obsession, really. There are organized groups out there who do nothing else with their free time than plan and prepare for some huge crisis. It¡¯s gotten to the point that it feels more like a competition than anything else. They get together on forums, blogs, newsletters, and anything you can imagine and just swap experiences, ideas, skills, and resources. A good majority of them are ex-military and this serves as a coping mechanism for some of their issues. If they prepare enough they¡¯ll never have to experience what they have before, or if they do, they¡¯ll be ready for it. If you think this is all just our family, you¡¯d be wrong. This is a concerted effort by a community that is smart, dedicated, driven, and highly competent. How did that forum post put it? ¡®We are the fruit of a legacy born in the fires of the second amendment, and should another tyrannical and corrupt government rise within these lands, we shall be the image bearers of hope and the flame of freedom. The second amendment was instituted on the back of a long and hard fought war against an oppressive regime and designated to be called upon against the future possibility of the same¡¯. Or something like that.

    ¡°Damn, girl.¡± Daniels eyed her warily. ¡°You scary.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers.¡± She said with a sunny smile. ¡°Seriously, though, it¡¯s a bit high minded and nebulous. Who determines when a regime has become ¡®tyrannical and oppressive¡¯? We really aren¡¯t that far over the bend, but there are some deep truths there. We¡¯re starting to see some very scary stuff that¡¯s come out from behind the scenes. Snowden being only the most widely reported. If that¡¯s what made the news, sit back and think for a second about the things that never did. If there ever is a clear crossing of lines and it becomes the people versus the government, its these groups here that are going to spearhead that movement.¡±

    Detective Daniels sat back in the recliner pensively.

    ¡°Breaking news!¡± The busty blond reporter cut into the silence. We all turned to look at the television. ¡°Here at KCKO we just received word that there is evidence that the lead programmer for Infinity Online, Susan Lee, has conducted industrial espionage by making a copy of the source code for Infinity Online. Susan Lee was found in a car accident early yesterday morning and is now in a coma. Her husband suffered injuries as well and is currently at her side. It is believed that she has smuggled the source code out to her two children who remain at large. They are not presumed armed or dangerous. If you see either of these two, please contact law enforcement immediately. There is a $1 million dollar reward by Prometheus Corporation for the recovery of the lost data.¡±

    On the screen were our high school pictures with Jane and my names beneath them.

 Chapter 7

    Chapter 7 - Jackson

    We got up early the next morning. The only interruption in my sleep was letting Gerald inside in the middle of the night after receiving the code from him. I, for one, tried to forget about the news story from last night. My morning shower was a practice in awkwardness as I worked to keep my cast out of the steaming stream of water coming from the shower head.

    I was surprised to see detective Daniels in the middle of making a large breakfast of bacon and eggs, humming to himself. Morning people. I grunted and groaned my way to the coffee pot to secure my morning medicine. I handed a cup to Jane who was sitting on the couch watching the morning news for any new updates. She sipped at the steaming cup, her hair in a sleepy halo around her head. Gerald was finishing up some morning calisthenics with a kettle bell and some body weight movements.

    After a few big gulps of coffee; I hated every moment of the walk, but I moved over to join him. Fifteen minutes later and my mind was clear, my breathing labored, but my muscles primed and ready for the day. I had a love hate relationship with morning workouts. I loved the feeling afterward and well, I hated everything else.

    ¡°Alright, down to business.¡± Jane said with a yawn. ¡°Infinity Online goes live in four hours. We¡¯re about as ready as we can get here. Gerald and his dad were pretty scary about setting up the safe houses, and I¡¯ve added some tech and code that makes me a little nervous about what Gerald¡¯s going to be using it for.¡± Gerald stared, blank-faced back at us. ¡°At this point, we¡¯ve done everything we can to prepare and dig in. All we have left is to set everything up.¡± Jane took a long, deep breath and let it out. ¡°Okay, Gerald. What¡¯s your take on this man hunt?¡±

    ¡°Damage control. I¡¯d put my money that Susan found some information and stirred up a nest of hornets. When they couldn¡¯t get the information out of her they went after her family for leverage. If it wasn¡¯t for Daniels here¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°When that failed they cut their losses.¡±

    ¡°If they can do all this, is dad safe?¡±

    Gerald raised his hand in a stopping motion. ¡°They don¡¯t need Lionel. They know that he is in the hospital with Susan, and they know he¡¯s not working against them with that bum leg.¡± His brows drew lower. ¡°But if they want to try to stick their hand in the cookie jar that¡¯s okay by me. They¡¯ll lose the hand at the shoulder.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Jane breathed out, ¡°time to start getting ready?¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Daniels said. ¡°Now that Gerald is back with them headsets we¡¯ll all be ready to get in there and find answers.¡±

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°We?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t think I was going to let you go in there without me did you?¡± He smiled.

    ¡°You still on board?¡± Gerald shifted his stare to me. He folded his arms. I started to squirm a little under his hooded gaze. ¡°Okay then.¡±

    Three hours were spent quickly as we finished eating, completing our morning rituals, and setting up the capsules as well as the two headsets. The headset calibration was less extensive, but we still needed to calibrate the Immersion Rigs to our unique bodies and settings. Jane remembered in time for us to log in and formally refer Gerald and Daniels. The Refer-a-Friend program allowed for some nice bonuses when grouping with registered referrals. Jane referred Gerald, and I shot a request off to Daniels. There was a significant bonus for certain benchmarks in the number of players referred. Jane and I had created numerous forum posts, each of us using our specific six digit identification code to refer anyone who was already willing to play. It was low hanging fruit that we didn¡¯t think would amount to much, but we were surprised when we had a flood of responses. Soon after, there were dedicated threads for posting your ID for other people to use as a referral code, but ours were the parent threads and seemed to receive the most responses. We helped Gerald and Daniels choose their character names but would have to wait for login to actually choose the character and traits. Choosing names early was actually one of the perks we had unlocked as a tier in the Refer-a-Friend program. We could allow those referred to choose their screen names early and lock them in before they had a chance to be taken by the flood of players entering this new world. Jane filled out Daniels and Gerald¡¯s character names and when she heard that our esteemed doubles would be logging in from our house, she smiled as she started typing away at her keyboard.

    We had a one hour before the game went live, but the company allowed you to log in an hour before to set up the character creation and complete the synchronization. Once we climbed in there, it would all become real. I took a deep breath and nodded at Jane before stepping into my room. I wasn¡¯t sure if I needed to be naked, or if clothed was okay. I met my internal dilemma half way and stripped down into my boxers. I opened the clam shell lid. The inside of the capsule was contoured with a strange looking gel-like subtance. I climbed into it carefully. The material inside firmed and softened in places as my weight was distributed. It felt like sinking into a warm and relaxing bath. I pressed a small button on the underside of the lid labeled: Close.

    The lid swung shut.

 Chapter 8

    Chapter 8 - Jackson

    I was floating in a space between worlds. I breathed slowly and deeply. In and out. Tensions and cramps that hadn¡¯t registered on my awareness began to leak away. My muscles relaxed. Sight, sound, touch, smell and taste were a thing of the past and all that remained was the now: this moment. I was slowly gaining my head-space and timing back.

    Sights, sounds, and sensations arrived in a slow dance of inches. Memories played against my eyelids. Stories that had captivated me washed over and through my awareness. I found myself reaching and grabbing, running and jumping, eating and drinking, laughing and crying as the tempo picked up its pace. Swirling images and half-forgotten dreams blurred past as incandescent mist.

    Everything slowed. Stillness returned.

    ¡°Initial diagnostic scan completed.¡± A female voice drifted out of the nothingness around me. ¡°Age restrictions initiated. Adjusting parameters. Pain mapping initiating.¡±

    I don¡¯t really want to talk about what ¡°pain mapping¡± felt like. Suffice to say that I once had an iodine mapping of my vascular system. I was told ¡°you¡¯re going to experience a warm sensation that will travel throughout your entire body, and many people say that it pools in their groin.¡± And boy, were they right. I could feel the iodine moving through my bloodstream all over my body, and yes, yes it did pool in the groin. I thought I was going to need ice cubes. Now imagine that same sensation, only replace ¡°a warm heat sensation¡±, with ¡°the thanksgiving turkey oil we just pulled out of the fryer,¡± and you start to get an idea of the horrors of pain mapping.

    I felt as though I should have broken out into an immediate sweat, but in this disembodied state, the only after affect was the memory of a comic strip of two lobsters throwing babies into boiling water with the text bubbles saying ¡°It¡¯s just the sound of steam escaping.¡± Damn those lobsters.

    ¡°Diagnostics completed. Thank you for your patience. Please select a character race, difficulty, and class.¡±

    The character creation screen I had been waiting for appeared in front of me. I scanned through the selections in anticipation. There was one option for race: human. I frowned. In all of our research we hadn¡¯t come across any information on the initial startup, but we did know that there were other playable classes, and I had been looking forward to exploring the possibilities.

    I selected human and made my character to look much like myself. I figured that changing my height and weight too drastically would make me feel like a stranger in my own body, especially after I logged back into the real world. I took some liberties with my features, ending with a vague resemblance of myself. I didn¡¯t need people with a grudge trying to find me in real life.

    ¡°Please select a difficulty.¡±

    In front of me was the choice between ¡°hardcore¡± and ¡°softcore¡± game types. The main difference was that softcore game types allowed you to respawn on character death. The hardcore setting would delete your character on death. I always loved games with the hardcore mechanic. It satisfied that dark itch in my soul. Everything has consequences. They¡¯d learn that soon enough. Not only would I crush my enemies, I¡¯d do it in style. The hardcore setting also increased skill points and primary stat points earned through the actual execution of skills, professions, and work by 100%. It seemed that gaining levels wasn¡¯t the only way to get ahead in this game. You could actually gain strength just from doing hard things. Right then I knew exactly what I was going to do with my time in the game. I instantly knew this was a selection no sane person, and definitely no pay to win pampered pretty boy or corporate lackey would pick. I made my choice.

    ¡°Hardcore mode selected. Warning: After level 10 your character will no longer be able to respawn or be resurrected. Are you sure you would like to select this difficulty setting?¡±

    I accepted and moved onto the class. This is what I had been most excited about. With the scope of the information we had on the game, they had the capabilities of doing almost anything. I couldn¡¯t wait to explore what the developers had come up with.

    Classes available: Adventurer

    That was it.

    There was only one class to choose from. What was going on? You have got to be kidding me. Where is the Fallen Angelic Beastmaster Rogue of Ascendant Flames? Warrior? Wizard? Cleric, for crying out loud. I sat there stunned for a time until I was prompted by the voice.

    ¡°Please select a character class.¡±

    I sighed and selected Adventurer. It was only then that I realized I was making the selections with mental commands. It felt easy and intuitive. Talk about user friendly.

    ¡°Thank you, player. Loading game. Welcome to the world of Selador, Walker.¡±

    Around me, a world began to shift into perspective. Blacks and charcoals began to slide into grays and then finally: colors. As the world tuned itself into focus I looked around me to find green trees, lush gardens of flowers and flowing waters as they spilled over exposed outcrops of minerals glistening in the sunlight. I turned slowly, taking it all in. I could feel the cool breeze on my skin, the warm sunlight and the fresh smells of damp earth and living things. I took my first deep breath, my body responding easily. It was unmistakably authentic.

    A torrent of system messages flashed before my eyes.

    Achievement Unlocked: First!

    You have gained a Unique Ability: First Things First

    Activate this ability to increase one full Rank in a Profession or Skill of your choice (Example: Expert Miner will upgrade to Master Miner). Ability is consumed upon use, choose carefully!

    Achievement Unlocked! Protagonist Patriarch

    You have received a new hidden Mythic Title: Protagonist Patriarch

    You are the first person to arrive into this new world. This title is locked and can only be revealed at level 100.

    Attention! Patriarchs are the first individuals to unlock classes, races, or rarely--certain skills or abilities. They are the progenitors from whom all other of their class or race derive.

    As the First Player, you gain a hidden passive skill: Plot Armor

    You are the hero of your very own story! +50 to Luck! Luck increases by +1 every 2 levels without detracting from your skill points. Additionally, all Patriarchs gain an additional primary stat point and skill point per level (currently 6 instead of 5).

    You have unlocked a hidden Primary Stat: Luck!

    Luck cannot be raised with unallocated stat points.

    With the bonuses to Luck you will find your gameplay affected, such as quests, item drop rate, unique encounters, along with other unknown characteristics. This achievement, passive skill, and Luck stat are hidden and cannot be seen by other players by any means. This restriction does not include you. As the Protagonist Patriarch you will be able to recognize all others of your kind. Do with this information as you will.

    The Luck stat has now been confirmed to be unlocked by Protagonists, Patriarchs, and by other unknown means.

    Achievement Unlocked: Lucky!

    Critical Hit Chance, Critical Hit Damage increased 2%

    Special note to the First Player:

    The top 10 players to join the game gain the Legendary Protagonist achievement: +25 Luck and + 1 Luck every 2 levels. They will only be made aware of the existence of Legendary Protagonist, Protagonist, and Unlikely Protagonist achievements.

    The top 100 players gain the Protagonist achievement: +10 Luck and +1 Luck every 2 levels. Protagonists will only be made aware of the existence of the Protagonist and Unlikely Protagonist achievements.

    The top 1000 players gain the Unlikely Protagonist achievement: +5 Luck and +1 Luck every 2 levels.

    You have received a new hidden Legendary Title: Adventurer Patriarch

    Patriarchs gain an additional primary stat point and skill point per level (currently 7 instead of 5). +10 Luck. You gain +1 Luck every 2 levels.

    Attention! You have reached the maximum Luck per level gain at +1 Luck every level, you greedy pig!

    We would like to express our thanks to you for your earnest interest and dedication to our humble game. Please enjoy these bonuses for your support and enthusiasm. We are excited to see what you will do with your unique story and potential. Enjoy the game!The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    A war of anger and elation raged inside of me. These were some really amazing freebies and bonuses, however I hated being put into a position where I felt that I owed anyone anything. I would tackle this world and my mission alone and on my terms. I didn¡¯t need the help or the complication these things would have on my life in this game. If anyone were to find out this unique advantage, it would paint an immediate target on my back that I didn¡¯t need. One thing was for sure. I wasn¡¯t going to be telling anyone about this.

    A man stepped forward from a rent in the air. It reminded Jackson of a Loony Tunes episode where bugs bunny just turns sideways and he''s suddenly holding a huge mallet. Where did it come from? I was asking myself the same question about this guy. He was smartly dressed in business formal: Black suit, black tie, black sunglasses. Jackson half expected him to introduce himself as Agent Smith¡ªor maybe CIA. He was definitely getting the dystopian big shot feeling from this guy.

    ¡°Hello, Jackson. I''m Agent Q, one of the Men in Black and we need you to stop an alien menace that threatens our entire solar system.¡± The man was stone faced as he pulled off his polished black sunglasses. I gaped. My stomach sank. Kill me now.

    A smile slowly played across the Agent¡¯s face as his clothes melded into an unassuming T shirt, jeans, and a pair of Chuck Taylor''s. The bold print of the tee stated proudly¡ª¡®Rogues do it from behind¡¯.

    ¡°I''m just screwing with you, man. The names Quincy Cooper, I''m one of the developers for Infinity Online. I¡¯m also high enough on the totem pole to be able to represent our company for Launch. The reason we''re having this conversation is that as the winner of the proverbial golden ticket your character gets to cut the ribbon for the launch of this flagship game for our company. The game will not start for anyone else until our conversation is done. We''ve got a little bit of time and I''m empowered to congratulate you, give you a bit of information, and answer a few question. So¡­ Hit me, whatcha got kid?¡±

    I paused, my brain switching gears rapidly as I took in the eccentric persona in front of me. The more I thought about the handouts and gimmicks to short-cut my way to success, the more angry I became ¡°Alright, Quincy. Why are you trying to force feed me this steaming pile without my consent? What is it you want?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ That''s actually a great first question. It''s what we like to call a necessary evil. Not the gift of bonuses to you, but the rationale behind it. You see, the corporation would like to limit the impact of real world money providing too much leverage on the game mechanics. Those pay-to-win schemes break down quickly. Players lose interest as they race to the top on a road paved with their paychecks. Who wants to be the top dog of that mangy pack? They feel ultimately invalidated and deep down they know they''ve bought their place and not earned it. It crushes the winners and everyone else under the boot heel of the all mighty dollar. And yet¡­¡± He trailed off thoughtfully. ¡°Money does talk, and after all there is a certain amount of pragmatic practicality to be taken into account. While we want equal opportunity for all players, we can''t just leave money sitting on the table either. Money is a priority. It''s just not our only one. It''s not even our main one. We have a number of means of reducing the negative impact of the more financially well-endowed simply buying success, fame, and fortune. One of those methods was the lottery that you won. The first thousand players to log in receive significant bonuses and achievement awards and they generally go to those who have paid for the privilege. However, money cannot buy your way to the top¡ªthough I must admit, it does help. The one exception, was you. You are a balancing point, or at least, you have the potential to be. It might only seem a token gesture. It might even in truth, turn out to be such, but it has the potential to have a powerful impact on the game. It is for you to decide. We''ve given you the potential and it''s up to you to use it or squander it as you see fit.¡±

    I took a second to process what Quincy was saying. A lot of it made sense and yet, I couldn¡¯t help but feel like a pawn in a larger game. It¡¯s the same game that someone was playing with mom¡¯s life. I clenched my jaw. ¡°You said that there are multiple means of creating balance in the game and preventing the rich from running roughshod over everyone else. What are they?¡±

    Quincy chuckled. ¡°Smart, kid. Smart. Unfortunately that is one of the proprietary pieces of information that I am unable¡ªthough not unwilling¡ªto divulge. One thing I can say is that our algorithms target certain calibers of individuals as well as actions that give opportunities and potential rewards to players. These actions are generally at odds with the normal behaviors and motivations of those who would prefer to buy their way to the top. I cannot say any more on the subject.¡±

    Hard work, I thought. I sighed inwardly. It was dad and Gerald all over again. I could almost hear the sound of their voices echoing some truism about the value and importance of hard work. One voice in particular would often come from the opposite side of a spray bottle of water when I lingered too long in bed on a lazy weekend.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I said after a moment of thought. ¡°What about my sister. We logged in at the same time. How did you guys work that?¡±

    Quincy beamed as though this was one of the questions he had hoped and waited for. ¡°That! Dear boy, is an excellent question and conundrum. Right now she is experiencing a similar conversation with one of my colleagues. Your immersion rigs were set up using one of the fantastically accurate atomic clocks that we as civilized human beings have access to. You entered into the game at exactly the same time, even down to the nanosecond. The scripting of the game did the rest. It followed the directive according to its commands and issued the appropriate rewards to the First Player, or players as the case may be.¡±

    ¡°So you''re saying, I''m a charity case?¡± I asked through gritted teeth.

    ¡°More or less.¡± Quincy shrugged, unfazed. ¡°Another interesting fact was that our release date and time was a firm guarantee. We believe strongly in punctuality. That means, if you had logged in outside of the five minute window of our precise launch time, you would have completely missed out on the provided bonuses and they would have simply shifted to the next player in line. The First! Achievement and others would have passed you by, and you would have continued on, unknowing of the lost opportunity. I guess it''s a good thing you were both so excited to play our game! It is that very enthusiasm that we are hoping to tap into to make this game all we hope it can be. We¡¯re about out of time here, we allowed 10 minutes for Q&A for you and your sister as a continuation of just how big a prize you two truly won, but that time is swiftly running out. As you may be aware, time is compressed inside of Infinity Online at a one to two rate. So after two hours of relative game time, only one will have passed in the real world. Don''t ask me how it works, because I can''t explain it. They tried to dumb it down for me, but all I got was something about the unique interaction at the boundary of where Einsteinian General Relativity meets with Quantum Mechanics inside of our brains. They''re able to overclock the brain or slow down perception like when your bodies¡¯ fight or flight response engages¡ªor something like that. Like I said I''m a coder, Jim not a quantum biologist.¡± He said the last in a surprisingly passable imitation of Dr. McCoy from Star Trek. ¡°For your general need to know, let''s just say it''s magic. And to that end, we are using that unique property to have this conversation. While everyone else is logging into the world, they are currently synchronizing their equipment. The same thing you did before you arrived here. Only they are not actually logged into the server and experiencing the time dilation. They are still outside, waiting to log in. Thus we have this window of opportunity. So, if you have any more questions, now is the time to ask them.¡± Quincy finished with a sly grin, his arms open wide as if in invitation.

    ¡°Does Jane know that I have the same achievements from being the first player to log in?¡±

    Quincy furrowed his eyebrows. ¡°That¡¯s a strange question. Hmm¡­ I don¡¯t suppose she does. She is meeting with one of our intellect imitators who is explaining things to her like I am with you. However, there was really no accounting for your existence here. She was the one who won the competition and you¡¯re sort of like a bug in the system. A two-fer if you will. The imitator¡¯s algorithms did not account for you and will assume that she is the only First Player. It¡¯s one of the reasons I¡¯m talking to you personally in fact.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s good. Don¡¯t tell her, please.¡± I hated begging. But I was determined to make my own way. I refused to be handed the keys to the city. I¡¯d take them and the hand along with them.

    Quincy¡¯s eyebrows raised in question. I didn¡¯t say anything more. He simply shrugged. ¡°Okay, whatever you say.¡±

    I took the next few minutes to confirm or shoot down the speculation, rumors, and research I had conducted on Infinity Online. The corporation had been incredibly cagey and secretive about their flagship game and it had been worse than pulling hens teeth to get even the most vague generality about the game from sources. Regardless, I had still managed to fill up a good portion of a notebook with rumors and musings. Surprisingly, Quincy confirmed a good bit of the information that had made it into the notebook. Perhaps it shouldn''t have been such a surprise. Information didn''t make it into the notebook unless it had been corroborated by multiple sources, a challenge that had almost seemed insurmountable. Most surprisingly, perhaps, was the almost unbroken line of confirmed facts and information I had received from user Deathclawz. His information had gone mostly unsupported from any other source on the Internet. I had added them to my book on instinct. There was something about the information that had seemed to ring true to me at the time. Quincy seemed surprised at the range and depth of the questions I had asked. More than once, his brows drew down as he asked me where I''d had gotten my information. I told him the only obvious fact that mattered. I wasn¡¯t telling. Of first importance was the confirmation that Infinity Online was an amalgam of what made MMORPG¡¯s the staple and powerfully compelling stories and games that had captured the attention and devotion of so many. They had attempted to bring together the best of all of the worlds and make something that would become a true magnum opus of gaming experience. I just hoped I wouldn''t have any nasty surprises about how the game interface might work, the HUD, or basic mechanics and gameplay.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll take the information, but you can keep your little perks. I don¡¯t need them. I don¡¯t need anyones help¡± Even though I was angry I couldn''t help but like the man. He was straightforward and I could picture him taking on the hardest challenges, just for the thrill of it. ¡°How do I get out of here?¡±

    Quincy smiled broadly. It was then that I noticed that all of his teeth subtly came to sharp points. ¡°A fighter, huh? Likes a challenge, does he? I think you and I are going to have a beautiful relationship.¡± He eyed me thoughtfully. ¡°Next, you get to make a choice. You have another bonus ahead of you. You can choose a set of advanced starter gear to get your adventure off on the right foot, or you can choose to participate in the Advanced Tutorial where all skills, abilities, gold, items and experience gained are yours to keep at the end of your completion. This is completely your choice. If you choose the starter kit, you will be on your way shortly and can take part in the standard tutorial with a significant leg up on any other participants. Or you can simply dive right into the game. If you choose the Advanced Tutorial you will be teleported to a special Academy designed to accommodate the elite players of this new world. The choice is yours to make.¡±

    I had a sudden flash of memory from a clandestine conversation with Deathclawz. He said cryptically, ¡°Do hard things.¡± Therefore my gut told me that I had the potential to gain much more valuable rewards by doing the Advanced Tutorial, but I didn¡¯t care about that. I didn¡¯t need them or their handouts.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any of it. Send me into the world and then leave me alone.¡± I stared straight ahead. Waiting for the opportunity to finally take my anger out in a way that would actually get me somewhere.

    Quincy smiled. ¡°Advanced Tutorial it is.¡± He cupped his hand to the side of his mouth in a stage whisper. ¡°You can thank me later.¡±

    ¡°Wait! But¡­¡±

    The last thing I saw was Quincy waving at me merrily.

 Chapter 9

    Chapter 9 - Jane

    The lid of the capsule closed with a satisfying hiss like the doors on Star Trek.

    I floated alone and calm on a sea of forgetfulness until memories, ideas, and stories began to swim through my consciousness. A masculine voice informed me that the initial diagnostics had been completed. I had the highly unpleasant experience of learning the nuances of pain mapping. Had I known in advance what that entailed, I¡¯m not sure I would have been so quick to jump into this brave new world. I pushed that unpleasantness to the side in my eagerness to make my character. I selected soft core. I wasn¡¯t the masochist my brother was. I¡¯d rather keep my character for the duration, thank you. I couldn¡¯t wait to explore how they¡¯d handled the new races. Who picks human anyway? I mean, really. Boring.

    It turns out that I do. I pick human, because I don¡¯t have any other choice. My frustration grew at the class selection screen. I mentally punched the accept button swearing at the developers.

    All of that faded as the world coalesced around me. I was in a beautiful clearing or meadow surrounded by lush and vibrant green. Flowers and herbs, distinct trees, bright minerals and fauna. Generally new characters in games like this begin in a starting city. Since I started here, I had an inkling that this was another bonus provided by the developers. I¡¯d have to explore to find out more about this place.

    I wasn¡¯t given the time.

    System messages scrolled in the chat window before my eyes. I had to back up and start reading from the beginning. A number of achievements, titles, and skills were acquired for being the first person on this new land. One in particular caught my eye.

    Holy Redemption: activate this ability to sacrifice your life to save another. Other, unknown affects may occur. This ability supersedes all other restrictions. Warning! This ability can only be used once. Choose wisely.

    My smile grew as I read more and more. I was giddy to try out all the freebies. I was about to open up my character menu when a vision in white stepped through a portal in front of me. She made the lines of her unadorned white dress, at once casual, and fit for a throne room.

    ¡°Hello, Alaria. I am Celandra, one of the intellect imitators for this world.¡±

    I have to admit. My mouth fell open a little bit. I had heard rumors about I.I. but never expected to meet one. At least not so soon. I wanted to try to clarify and compare what I had heard with what she might say.

    ¡°Intellect Imitator? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°I am essentially a sophisticated computational mind that helps to run and operate this world. All of us imitators serve as a backbone for the processing of this world. We pay particular interest to player and non-player interaction within the world to help ensure that things run as smoothly as we can manage.¡±

    My breath caught. ¡°So you¡¯re an artificial intellect?¡± I hadn¡¯t thought that developing an actual AI was possible. But here she stood.

    She smiled. ¡°No. Our current level of sophistication does not constitute a truly artificial mind. It is for this reason we clarify our identities as Intellect Imitators. Our algorithms for handling player question and response as well as actions and reactions are incredibly complex, but not truly autonomous. Even this interaction that we are having now is a unique event. In this small window, my programming has allowed me to possess a greater self awareness than in the future. In this world I am a goddess. A character on the stage, and for this brief time, I am allowed to break character so to speak. We do not think for ourselves, we merely respond according to a vast array of data acquired through long observation, testing, and analysis.¡±

    ¡°But, we¡¯re having a conversation right now. You¡¯re answering my questions and interacting with me.¡±

    ¡°All of your questions so far have fit within the expected parameters and the responses have been generated that match seamlessly within our dialogue.¡± She smiled again. ¡°Yes, even this is a scripted response. Most interactions with people are a series of scripted question and answers that are fairly easy to predict. I am here to tell you about this world and help you onto a path that will most benefit you.¡± She told me of the options of choosing a nice starter kit along with either a tutorial or stepping right into the game world, or choosing an advanced tutorial that would be challenging and allow me to grow and keep any rewards I¡¯d find along the way. After she mentioned game balance and finding the line between profit from players willing to pay extra for bonuses and those who simply want to play the game without having to lay down money to do so. Once I heard that I immediately understood the significance.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°The advanced tutorial. Definitely.¡± I stated confidently.

    ¡°Wonderful. Follow me and I will take you to the starting location for the tutorial.¡±

    She stepped through the shimmering portal and I followed her quickly, not wanting the opportunity to pass. The first thing I was was Jackson falling back through a similar portal and landing fully prone on his back in a puddle. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing at him.

    ¡°I guess you didn¡¯t get as nice of an introduction into this world as I did.¡± I said with a smile.

    Jackson sat up, swinging his hair out of his face. He blew a few wisps that had still fallen over his eyes.

    ¡°Yeah. Something like that.¡±

    His normally dark brown hair was lightened and his nose was similar in dimension to his real world face, but otherwise he was unrecognizable. We had agreed early on that we might make enemies in this game. We had a doctorate course over our lifetimes in preparing for any and every eventuality. It was natural to carry that over into the game world and we started with ensuring that we could stay anonymous as much as it was possible to do so.

    I introduced Celandra. Jackson geeked just like I expected him to and we had to rehash the conversation about the differenced between Artificial Intelligence and Intellect Imitators.

    It was then that I noticed the enormous sprawling compound behind Jackson. He was still sitting in a puddle on what I quickly realized was a well cared for lawn. The central fortress rose high into the air. The entire complex was a study in spartan functionality. Everything served the ultimate purpose of training and warfare. There was no stereotypical moat, however there was a perimeter of deeply grounding stakes funneling traffic to the gates through a meandering course. Once close to the citadel walls, the ground fell away into a deep depression. Stakes lined this area as well. Along the wall were gated doors that I quickly realized were sluice gates. I take it back, they could turn this into a moat after all. It was obvious that a waist deep level of water would be ideal for slowing down enemies and forcing them to navigate the stakes and place them on an even lower terrain if an invading army unwisely chose that course of action.

    Celandra turned to us as I helped Jackson up out of the muddy water. ¡°The first class at the Academy will be made up of one-thousand persons. Invitations will go to the first thousand Sojourners to enter this world. It is estimated that more than a few will choose the advanced starting equipment instead of attendance into the Academy. As First Player, you have the capability of selecting group members to join you at the Academy. They will enter a queue and will be allowed entry in the event that there is available room for them. The number of people you may select is based on your Tier in the Refer-a-Friend Program. You are currently at Tier 10 which is the highest currently available. You may select up to ten players to enter into the queue for the Academy.¡±

    A prompt appeared in front of my vision asking for a list of names. I quickly added Gerald, Daniels, and the two doubles into the field. With a shrug I added mom and dad¡¯s normal user names into the field as well. I couldn¡¯t really think of anyone else to add to the list that I¡¯d want next to me in this place. I smiled and added ¡®Calen¡¯ to the list. It was pronounced the same as her real name ¡°Kaylin¡± but was an elvish name from Lord of the Rings meaning ¡®Green One¡¯. She¡¯d snapped it up as soon as I¡¯d mentioned that fact to her.

    ¡°So.¡± I glanced over at the space above Jackson¡¯s head, confirming his character name. ¡°Walker gets ten selections as well?¡± I asked, beginning to get excited.

    Celandra paused for a long moment. That was unusual. The rumored processing speed of the I.I. was legendary, and there weren¡¯t even players logged into the system yet. I shouldn¡¯t have been able to see any noticeable delay in our conversation. Odd.

    ¡°I am afraid not. This is a special privilege given to first ten players and then working down the list. Walker is not on the list, though he does have the same ranking in the Refer-a-Friend system as you do.¡±

    ¡°But we entered at the same time. There¡¯s no one else logged in. He should at least be number two on the list.¡± I was starting to get mad. I quickly entered ¡®Walker¡¯ into the list and pressed accept, just in case this glitch extended any further into the tutorial.

    ¡°Walker is not on the list.¡± Celandra repeated again after another long pause.

    ¡°It must be some kind of glitch.¡± Jackson said over my shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s not fair! You deserve the same thing I got!¡±

    ¡°Its okay, Jane. Or I guess I should call you Alaria now. Wow, that¡¯s going to be weird. I¡¯m going to have to start using that name in my mind while we¡¯re in here. Its probably a good idea to just start using it all the time. We can¡¯t afford to slip up. We don¡¯t know what we¡¯re getting into in this world, but we do know that the authorities are out looking for us.¡± His face softened. ¡°Cheer up, I didn¡¯t want any freebies anyway. I¡¯d have just thrown it back into their faces. I¡¯m going to be the best and I¡¯m going to do it without some developer turning on the elevator.¡± He smiled reassuringly. ¡°I prefer the stairs.¡±

    I sighed, nodding. Jackson¡ªno, Walker, he was right. I needed to get used to using his new name. Walker was always playing games on the hardest difficulty setting. He always thought that you should play games like you live life; there should always be consequences, and nothing worthwhile was ever easy. I understood, but I didn¡¯t at the same time. When I came home from a tough day, sometimes I just wanted to log in and be a super hero for a little while and kick everyone¡¯s butt.

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll drop it.¡± I turned back to Celandra. ¡°Okay, so what happens next?¡±

    Celandra spoke as she opened two new portals in front of us. A gust of wind pushed us, stumbling through it and into a courtyard arena. At the same time hundreds of other portals were opening up, disgorging new players. Celandra stood on the other side of the portal, her clothing had shifted to an armored and contoured chest plate along with an elegantly stylized helmet and nose guard. Her eyes had become a pale gray and filled with a deep knowing. She held a long handled spear in her left hand and a rounded shield in her right. ¡°What happens next is, you Sojouner¡¯s will fight to the death.¡±

    ¡®

 Chapter 10

    Chapter 10 - Jackson

    Hundreds of players began to pile into the arena. We were jostled and pressed against each other. A din of confusion hung in the air. I hooked Jane by the arm and began walking her over to a familiar face I had made out in the crowd.

    I huffed out a breath and shook my head. Gerald hadn¡¯t changed his name or appearance one bit. He had the same build, the same shaved head, square jaw, and cauliflower ears. He seemed unsurprised to see us as we made our way through the crowd toward him. A hard stare was the only greeting he gave. It was then that I noticed the two people standing next to him. A boy and girl who looked exactly like me and Jane in the real world, only the names above their heads read ¡°Blondie¡±, and ¡°Kruhl¡±. I shot a questioning glance at Gerald. He shook his head and shrugged indifferently. Iturned backto my sister who was beaming. It must be an insidejoke. With her, sometimes shes the only one inside.She ran over to Blondie and quickly did a walk around her.

    ¡°Wow! I think you make the tunic and trousers look better than I could have ever managed. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have ever been daring enough to do the Stiletto in the hair, but you really pull it off. You look amazing!¡± Jane gushed.

    Blondie blushed and actually toed the ground with her sturdy shoes. ¡°Thanks. The boys got onto me for taking too long on the character creation.¡± She shrugged. I¡¯ll never understand women. Here was what I assumed was a trained killer. She was young, there was no doubt about it, but every line and curve of her conveyed a level of skill and command I had only ever seen in Gerald. Yet there she was, in full princess mode.

    ¡°Oh my god!¡± I said in a lilting falsetto. ¡°Kruhl, how do you manage to pour those creamy masculine hamstrings into those tight leggings? Like, I¡¯m totally jelly over here. Maybe we should all gather up and go to the bathroom together and talk about it some more!¡±

    I got a dirty look from the girls and a rude gesture from Kruhl. ¡°I¡¯m actually feeling a lot lighter and freer. I¡¯m not used to carrying around such light equipment, if you catch my drift.¡± He glanced meaningfully down his front.

    I opened my mouth to retort when a big hand clamped down on my shoulder. Gerald turned me to my left and pointed at a petite brunette in the crowd about forty feet away. A thick shouldered, clean cut movie start type was intently leaning into her space. He¡¯d close the distance as she moved away and was gradually backing her against the arena wall a few feet away. She was wringing her hands together and looking around wildly. My eyes tracked to just over the girl¡¯s head to read the name there: Calen. My eyes snapped to Gerald. He gave me a small nod and an unneeded shove in that direction.

    I moved as quickly and as casually as I could through the crowd. I must not have done a great job because of the way I bumped and jostled my way through the throng. A surprising echo of pain wound up my arm and shoulder when I used it to move one particularly stubborn obstacle to the side. Strange. I looked down, clenching and unclenching my hand. I looked back up as I drew near to the two.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°There you are Calen! I¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you!¡± I slid past Matt Damon there and casually draped an arm around Calen¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend here? He looks familiar.¡± I paused thoughtfully and then snapped my finger, pointing at him. ¡°Ocean¡¯s Eleven, right? Man, you were great in that one.¡±

    Calen looked at me with a questioning frown. ¡°Ja--?¡±

    ¡°Jason Bourne! That¡¯s exactly what I was thinking of. Thanks Calen! Gerald and everyone are waiting over there if you want to meet up with us. I get the feeling things are about to get pretty interesting. Mr. Hunting, sir. We¡¯re really sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got a lot of fan mail to open and autographs to write.¡± I waved at the crowd and gave Mark Watney a wink. ¡°They¡¯re all here to see you, you know.¡±

    We turned and started walking away when a hand gripped my arm, sending another ghosting lance of pain through me.

    Icy fissures began to crack along my stomach¡¯s frozen surface. I hate this part. Why couldn¡¯t I keep my big mouth shut?

    ¡°The lady and I were just having a conversation. I think it¡¯s very rude of you to interrupt us. Why don¡¯t you scamper back off to whatever hovel spawned you and let us finish?¡±

    I pushed Calen on back to the others as I turned back to pretty boy. ¡°Man. They¡¯re right. You are good. Was that from the Departed? No, wait¡ªInterstellar. You were such a prick in that one! I can see you never really left that role behind. You really have to move on.¡± I rested my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes consolingly. ¡°It¡¯s time.¡±

    The blow came as in just as I expected. I pulled hard with the hand on his shoulder, bringing him off balance, my left arm coming up to casually deflect the blow that was coming in on a new and unplanned trajectory. My head snapped forward in a crushing blow to the bridge of his nose.

    At least, that¡¯s what I had planned anyway. As I raised my left arm I felt an explosive shock of electric pain. My block moved much slower than I had intended. I contacted his swing a split second after his punch caught me along the ear. Ice met fire in a twisting tangle of torment as heat bloomed across my face and a cold chill raced down my left side.

    A system message appeared in front of me.

    You have been attacked by a player! Victor Fury hits you for 6 damage.

    I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes. ¡°Victor Fury? Are you freaking kidding me? Why didn¡¯t you just name yourself Batman and be done with it? C¡¯mon, I know you were disappointed when Affleck got the part and you didn¡¯t.¡± I¡¯d kept close to him protecting my left side while tripping up his feet as he tried to move back to get room to swing again.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a lot of jokes, Texas Ranger.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± I paused a beat. ¡°You think comparing me to Chuck Norris is an insult? If Chuck Norris was in the 300 movie, it would have been called, One. I heard that when he turned 18, his parents moved out.¡± Victor used the moment to gain some separation and came at me again. I continued on. ¡°Chuck Norris doesn¡¯t breathe air, he holds it hostage. He doesn¡¯t sleep. He waits.¡± Victor opened his mouth to reply when I darted in, snapping a quick punch at his face. As he raised his arms to block, I lined up like a field goal kicker and caught him with a vicious kick between the legs, raising him off of the ground. He fell choking and sputtering to the ground. Full immersion, I thought. I leaned down toward him and whispered. ¡°Chuck Norris sleeps with a pillow under his gun.¡±

    That was when he stabbed me.

 Chapter 11

    Chapter 11 - Jane

    I could see a group of lackeys that had been laughing at their leader¡¯s antics swiftly moving to his aid. Jackson leaned down. I saw his lips move. Then I saw the kneeling man¡¯s knife flash through the distance between them.

    Thunder detonated in an expanding ring from the epicenter of the arena.

    My hair was lifted from my head, floating in a mesmerizing defiance of gravity as an incandescent bar of liquid light slammed into the ground. I was knocked from my feet, my vision washed in white. The resulting crater that began to coalesce through my warped vision bore more resemblance to a bomb blast than a lightening stroke. Floating amidst the strewn bodies, a form hovered above a throne of striated, tortured glass. Gnarled crystalline roots dug into the earth as the sand began to flow and slide, filling in the crater and leaving the throne planted deeply above the arena floor. The gleaming chest plate, broad shoulders, and billowing cloak of the figure was washed out and yet it still struck the deep, primal instincts of flight inside of me. There was no fight option in the face of this¡­ inevitability. He began to clap. Slowly at first, the booming reports rumbling off into the distance and raising to a crescendo that made me want to duck and look for cover. His laugh was as jovial as it was all-consuming.

    ¡°Well done, well done! It has been centuries since cowardly mortals have risen above their pale and pathetic nature to surprise me. Without coddling or coercion, warriors have arisen, fully-formed from the primordial essence of complacent chattel. Well done indeed, my champions! Receive the blessing of Zion!¡± Lightening once again rent the air in a wash of heat and light as the two combatants were momentarily joined by fire to this new presence. The link snapped as abruptly as it had begun and the figure addressed the crowd. ¡°Now! The rest of you shall forge your fates in combat! Blood and bone are the price of admittance into the Academy. Prove yourselves! Rise above your petty and petulant natures!¡± His voice lowered to a whisper that rumbled across the stunned audience. ¡°Harden your resolve. For it shall be tested.¡±

    A system message appeared in front of me.

    You have received a quest: Forged in Fury.

    Warriors are made; not born. Great warriors are made through great trials. Select a weapon and defend yourself! This location has become a Player Versus Player Battleground. Rewards: Variable. Based on survival time and opponents defeated. By choosing the advanced tutorial, you have automatically accepting this quest.

    I was pulled to my feet and flung bodily toward a rack of weapons that had appeared among the milling crowd. A low susurrus of voices was slowly growing into the roiling boil of a kicked ant hill. I glanced back at the figure of Zion wreathed in white as he slowly sank onto the raised dais of his throne. His rapt gaze was a drawn sword slid among the crowd.

    Gerald had already herded the others toward the weapon racks after me. My eyes scanned the weapons frantically. I wasn¡¯t any good with swords and knives! I was decent with a bow. I couldn¡¯t really fail to be, with how much time and practice Jackson had put into it. I tried to find shared interests, but it was so hard when he was just that much better than me at it. It was like playing Nintendo Smash Brother¡¯s or any First Person Shooter with someone who owned the game and you didn¡¯t. Crushing defeat after crushing defeat made it hard to want to keep at it.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I saw Gerald grab up a thick wedge of a blade that was comically large. He only smiled as if he were meeting a lost love. Blondie snatched up more knives than I could count and was making them disappear around her body with astonishing speed. I need a gun! Where are the guns! Krul slid his left arm through the thick leather straps of a shield that clearly valued function over form. It was matched by an equally utilitarian long sword who¡¯s only acknowledgment of decor was a calligraphic letter D engraved on the pommel. Even Calen had grabbed up an exquisite diadem mounted on a thin circlet. She rested it on her brow, giving the impression of having gained a third eye. My breathing was coming fast and labored now. What should I do? I¡¯m going to get killed in my first hour in the game!

    As if in answer to my frantic internal struggle, a bellow of rage made me look up at the lumbering giant I had recognized from among the crowd of hanger¡¯s on as they watched Calen¡¯s harassment. He whipped a heavy maul through the air like a match stick, aiming a blow for my head as I stood, frozen in indecision.

    I raised my hands in front of me, my eyes closed in fear as an enormous impact jolted the ground. It took me only a second to realize that I wasn¡¯t dead. I opened my eyes to see a powerfully built man swinging a mace down on the staggered giant. Sound returned with a wash of the screams and impacts of battle. I couldn¡¯t see Jackson anywhere.

    I crawled away from the embattled giants to a nearby rack of war implements. Resting inside of a small nook, I could just make out the edge of a book peeking from between wooden slits. It was impossible to see without being up close. I reached in and pulled it free. I flipped it open to scan the first page: Secrets of a Wizards Power. My breath caught and my face flushed as I turned the pages, faster and faster. I allowed myself one blink on each page, moving to the end and quickly shutting the book and stuffing it in the small pouch at my waist. I stood to my feet.

    My eyes were closed as I quickly took in the first few pages. The somatic incantations and gestures. My eyes snapped open, narrowing in on the giant. My hands moved in a dance as words of power sprang from my lips. A compressed ball of heat and fury left my right hand with a distinct lack of a parabolic arc. It blazed a comet trail into the face of the giant as he raised his maul once again to bring it to bear against his attacker. A detonating wash of flame and agony exploded against his face.

    Critical Hit! You hit Soggy Gorilla for 52 damage!

    The other man moved quickly, kicking him hard in the chest. The giant was staggered off-balance into the overhand swing of Gerald, bringing his sword down onto the maul-wielding attacker. Blood flew in an ark as the blurred and pixelated form fell to the ground and disintegrated. The first man swung his mace up to his shoulder and turned to me. He was black as the ace of spades. The name over his head read: Daniels.

 Chapter 12

    Chapter 12 - Jackson

    It wasn¡¯t pain that registered first, but a razor-edged numbness. What was worse was the alien sense of wrongness that being stabbed gave. It was the real deal ¡°this is what it feels like to be stabbed¡± experience. Had the developers completely lost it? I couldn¡¯t wrap my mind around the truth that this was just a game. I wanted nothing more than for that thing to be gone and for my body to be my own again. It was no longer a mystery as to why people would instinctively remove impaling objects, even when it could cost them their lives. The body was jealously sovereign of its own. Oh god. It must be pretty bad. I¡¯m getting poetic.

    Surprise Attack! Critical Hit! Victor Fury hits you for 67 damage! (Knife) You are bleeding! (You will receive 4 points of damage every second for 6 seconds)

    I really needed to do something about the combat logs. They were very distracting. I glanced down at the knife fisted into my stomach. On second thought, maybe I could use the distraction right now.

    ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d be stupid enough to leave my pain sensors high enough to keep me down in a fight, you arrogant piece of trash?¡± Spit flew into my face as Victor growled the words through gritted teeth.

    The world washed away in light and sound.

    I blinked my eyes open through the sand and grit. The swirling dust parted to reveal what couldn¡¯t be anything other than a god. I mean, he built a freaking throne with a cosmic-scale bug zapper. I couldn¡¯t make out his words through the large bruise I had become, as I made my way to my feet. I did make out one phrase though. It was just before my world ended in dazzling shards of pain.

    ¡°Receive the blessing of Zion!¡± The figure raised a clench fist toward me. Shit. Not agai¡ª

    Eternity was a white-hot moment; A scream stretching into infinity.

    Text contrasted starkly against my vision.

    Your wounds have been healed. Health: 110/110.

    You have received an item: Zion¡¯s Blessing. Type: Neck. Durability: 10,000/10,000. Level Requirements: None. Item Class: Legendary. Quality: Masterwork. +10 to all stats. Description: A token of favor from the God-king Zion. ¡®I couldn¡¯t find it in a tennis bracelet, so this will have to do.¡¯

    You have received a quest: The Path of Zion. ¡°All gifts must be earned by those worthy. Find my dungeon shrines. Complete my tests. It is there that you may find true power.¡± Accept?

    Yes/No

    I came back to myself on my knees, attempting to spit out the shards of bone and blood I had been sure was all that was left of my insides. Healed¡­ I¡¯ll thank you never to be healed like that ever again. There was a distinct lightening pattern surrounded by a star-burst below the quest description. I accepted the quest to clear my vision.

    I stood to my feet among a mass of writhing and flailing bodies. I looked to Zion who had seated himself on his throne. His eyes bore into mine with such intensity that I almost failed to duck the swing of an axe blade as it clove the air above my head. I rolled to the side, coming up in a run as I checked my surroundings. I found what I was looking for almost immediately. Nestled in a rack of weapons was what looked like a bow stave, except for the distinct notch and string hanging lazily from its top. It was elegant and gently curved, like what you expect the elves in Lord of the Rings would use. I made a dash for it.

    I dodged and shoved combatants into each other, tripping the occasional foot and putting others between myself and those who seemed to have an unhealthy interest in me. Reaching the stave, I pulled it free. I wedged it into the ground at an angle, stepping across it, I used the inside of my leg as a fulcrum and bent the bow back on itself. The pain of my left arm forced me to rest the top part of the bow in my armpit and use my entire body weight to bend and string the bow. I hooked the string on in time to step back. I pulledmy leg back through and brought the wood up to parry a blow from a short sword aimed at my midsection. I counter attacked.

    You hit BigNasty for 12 damage. (Kick)

    Congratulations! You have learned the skill: Unarmed Combat. ¡®If it¡¯s come down to fisticuffs, you should probably just give up now.¡¯

    He stumbled back, tripping over a fallen player and allowing me to grab two arrows in one hand from the quiver leaning up against the rack. Before I could talk myself out of it I quickly aimed and loosed both arrows in a smooth, quick succession.

    You have received an item: Longbow of the Forest. Damage: 10-13. +4 Dexterity +3 Stamina. Durability 24/24. Item Class: Uncommon. Quality: Above Average. Weight: 1.7kg.

    Critical Hit! Coup de grace! You hit BigNasty for 48 damage. You hit Bignasty for 56 damage! You have slain BigNasty! Experience received.

    Congratulations! You have learned a new skill: Archery. ¡®Way to get in there and really mix it up! The truest expression of courage¡ªa ranged weapon! Way to go, hero.¡¯

    You have earned an Achievement: First Blood. +1 Primary Stat used in kill (Dexterity).

    You have earned an Achievement: Player Killer. +5% damage done to players. (1/10 players killed until next Achievement).

    I shook my head with a chuckle at the system messages. I had a feeling I knew who was behind that. The smile on my face was quickly replaced with a grimace as the pain in my left arm doubled me over. Yeah. This isn¡¯t going to work. I pulled my head through the bow and let it sling across my body. Islid a few arrows at an angle through my belt and looked around for a blade. I wasn¡¯t as good with a sword, but I still trained multiple days a week. Dad really took his role playing seriously. If I had wanted to be a part of it, it was either put up or shut up. I quickly found and discarded a Roman style Gladius. It worked best with a shield that was just impossible with my arm the way it was. A petite blonde was knocked back into the racks by a flying tackle. I ducked down, putting the turned over racks between me and the other players.

    The girl wrapped her legs around her attacker in a guard position and quickly sent him for respawn with a flurry of knife wounds. Even if the player was a hardcore character, we were all level 1. I wasn¡¯t sure how the respawn mechanic worked for the game, but I wasn¡¯t really eager to find out either. I noticed a short blade sticking out from under the overturned racks. I tested the balance of the arming sword. They were mainly used as side arms, but they were excellent one-handed weapons worn in the Middle Ages.

    You have received an item: Deft Knightly Sword. Damage: 9-12. +4 Strength +4 Agility. Durability 30/30. Item Class: Uncommon. Quality: Average. Weight: 1.3kg.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    The girl rolled to her feet nearby. I did a double take at seeing Jane standing there. My eyes caught the name above her head: Blondie. Before I could open my mouth to say a word, she had drawn and thrown a knife at me in a blink.

    Surprise Attack! Victor Fury hits you for 38 damage! (Sword)

    I crashed to the ground from the impact, disorientation clouding my vision. My back and shoulder were afire with torment. I couldn¡¯t reconcile the system message with Blondie hitting me with a knife. I shook my head clear and saw Blondie and a sharp-nosed ferret of a man acting out a Steven Segal movie. They had knives in each hand and their movements were a blur of speed and clashing blades.

    Dusty boots stepped into my field of view. I followed them up to their owner as Victor pulled a knife free that had buried itself in the meat just above his clavicle. Okay. It¡¯s maybe making a little more sense now. That girl¡¯s good. Shame she didn¡¯t get him in the neck. My eyes were drawn there to see the burning brand of a matching necklace¡ªthe lightning emblem resting against his upper chest.

    ¡°It seems you have finally acknowledged your rightful place¡ªkneeling, like a peasant.¡± He turned the knife over in his hands with a hateful glance toward the girl. ¡°I¡¯m nothing if not merciful, you know. Simply¡ª¡±

    As he dropped the knife to the dusty arena floor, I was already moving. I wasn¡¯t about to lay there gawking at my would-be killer like a lamb. I did as I was trained. I attacked.

    Tucking my left arm in, I rolled at an angle, transferring the momentum into a rising horizontal slash. A thin-bladed rapier intercepted the blow as Victor, interrupted in his gloating, slipped quickly into a en garde stance. The thin blade of the weapon offered nothing more than a tap against my sword and wasn¡¯t able to deflect the blow in any meaningful way. His movements and reactions stemmed from the sport, as his riposte drew a hot line of fire across my chest and shoulder. My sword caught him in the midsection with a meaty thwack, throwing of the angle off his thrust.

    Victor Fury hits you for 11 damage!

    You hit Victor Fury for 33 damage!

    Congratulations! You have learned a new skill: Swordsmanship. ¡®Hey, that¡¯s more like it, tough guy!¡¯

    Victor used his left hand to touch the wound, as he maintained his fencing stance, his right arm held forward and the tip of the blade pointed toward my eyes.

    He glanced at his blood slicked fingers. ¡°Not bad, for a¡ª¡±

    I slapped the flat of my blade against the side of his rapier, stepping in close and pulling an arrow from my belt with my left hand, I slammed it home under his floating ribs on his right side. The pain in my left arm was met with another system message.

    You hit Victor Fury for 17 damage!

    ¡°You uncouth twat!¡± Victor was able to break contact, but not before I broke the arrow off into the wound at his side.

    Victor Fury is now bleeding.

    The hit point bar above his head was passing the half way mark.

    Victor couldn¡¯t find purchase on the slick wooden stump in his side. ¡°I can see you are no man of honor. Very well.¡±

    TaylorSchwifty hits you for 27 damage! (Arrow)

    My health slipped to just over thirty percent with the ranged attack. Victor smiled at the blow and the obvious pain it caused and his arm swung in for a finishing series of blows.

    His eyebrows drew down when I stepped forward into the attack, spinning to my left. His sword snapped against the wooden staff of the bow slung across my back. His eyes widened as my sword described an arc through the air, ending at his neck.

    Critical Hit! 51 damage!

    Congratulations! You have increased Swordsmanship to level 2. +2% damage with swords. +2% chance to hit with swords.

    Victor stumbled back, clutching his neck with less than 5% hp. I ducked low after the strike, barely dodging the second arrow that sped past my ear. I realized only moments had passed in my fight with Victor as the sounds of knives clashing still rang in the air. I turned to face the archer, interposing my sword between the two of us. I relaxed a bit. Standing out of my half-crouch.

    ¡°What are you smiling at?¡± TaylorSchwifty called, notching another arrow. ¡°You think I¡¯m funny?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not smiling at you. I¡¯m smiling at him.¡± I said, pointing past her.

    ¡°Nice try.¡± She pulled the arrow to her ear, sighting down the shaft. ¡°I¡¯m not falling fo¡ª¡±

    Gerald had strapped his sword to his back. The thick tendons in his wrist stood out as he swept her arm out and away, disarming her and spinning her corkscrewing into the ground.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am. Stop resisting ma¡¯am.¡± An elbow was smashing down like a jack hammer onto the back of her head, bouncing it off of the packed dirt. He tightened the arm bar as she attempted to roll away. Hooking an arm around her neck he brought both hands together onto the arm, pinned a too high of an angle behind her back. ¡°Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m going to need you to walk this line for me, ma¡¯am,¡± as he dragged her face through the dirt, piling up a small furrow. Her health bar continued to shrink under the abuse. ¡°Just as I suspected. Clearly intoxicated. I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re going to need you to sleep it off tonight.¡± The last, he spoke as her HP bar reached zero and her body began to disintegrate.

    I couldn¡¯t help but grin. To my knowledge, Gerald only had a sense of humor when he was on the mat or in a fight. It was refreshing to see someone else on the other end of his affection.

    I looked around to see a much-thinned crowd around us. Zion still watched calmly from his throne. What was his game? He wanted to manipulate people weaker than himself? To find out who¡¯s the best and strongest? I glanced down at the emblem around my neck. I was going to be the strongest. I was going to find out what happened to mom, but I wasn¡¯t going to become one of these rich kids, throwing daddy¡¯s money around to do it. I knew what to do.

    Tucking the blade into the opposite side of the belt from the arrows I slipped the bow over my head and turned back to Victor. I shifted to the side around him to get a better position. He was still clutching his neck; the bleeding affect had apparently gotten worse from the wound. I slid an arrow from my belt and nocked it on the string. Gritting my teeth through the pain I slowly pulled the arrow with a three-fingered grip, sighting on Victors bleeding form. I took a breath, letting some out and holding it, waiting for the space between heart beats.

    I loosed the string. The arrow was a dog on a new trail. It leapt from the bow with a will of its own, closing the scant 20 yards between me and Victor in a blink.

    The arrow sped on.

    Threading the triangle gap his arm made as he held his wounded neck, the arrow arched smoothly over the heads of the combatants below as it blazed a trail through the air toward Zion¡¯s left eye.

    I had thought him engrossed in the spectacle of the combatants in front of him. I was wrong. As the arrow closed the last few yards, his eyes snapped to the flying missile, fast and yet lazily as well. He moved impossibly fast and gracefully¡ªonly shifting the exact amount needed, he slid to one side. The arrow cut a fine line of red across his cheek as it smashed into the glass throne.

    The world stuttered to a halt as his hand raised up to his cheek to catch a ruby droplet as it fell. Storm cloud eyes paused in terrorizing coastal cities as his heavy gaze fell on me. He slid from his throne, stepping toward me. My hand had already been reaching for a second arrow, but time and perception were broken and disjointed like a politicians ethical standards. Each step brought him further than natural laws could account for. He stood in front of me before I had even began to take in a breath for denial.

    ¡°Have you a wish for oblivion, child?¡±

    The air slammed into my lungs as my hand completed its instinctive journey of fitting another arrow to the string. I glanced around. Every player in the arena was frozen in place.

    ¡°You''re looking for fighters.¡± I said simply. "I am a fighter. Not a pawn."

    Zion tilted his head. ¡°What an unusual thing to say. Of course you are a pawn. We all are. Even me. Especially in this place. I hadn¡¯t realized we had such a great hero of legend among us. One who would overcome all obstacles set before him. Who needs no one and no thing to help him win through. Very well."

    He reached out a stained finger as red lightening forked into the necklace. Pain bloomed again.

    Zion¡¯s Blessing has become Fool¡¯s Folly. Type: Neck. Durability: 10,000/10,000. Item Class: Relic. Quality: Grand Masterwork. This item is soulbound and will not be lost upon death. All stats reduced by 10. Description: This son, unworthy of Sparta was not mine at all. ¡®Sometimes we just need a good kick in the balls I guess. Welp. Here goes.¡¯ Attention! This item is cursed and cannot be removed!

    Zion drew his sword. "There is more than one path to greatness, hero. Go. And make your own."

    Time crashed into the world around me in a deafening cacophony.

    Victor¡¯s health bar ticked to zero.

    "Nooo!" A scream rent the air as Calen crashed into me, trying to knock me clear. I was frozen. Immobilized with the shackles of a god''s will, however.

    I tried to push her free as I looked from her to Zion in horror. No. It wasn''t supposed to be like this.

    Zion¡¯s white blade was an avalanche as it crashed down upon us.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13 - Jane

    Daniels was smashed to the side by a ball on a swinging chain. He rolled with the blow and came up swinging. I caught the image of a scarred matte black shield shield in the corner of my eye shading me from the sun and a number of descending arrows. Gerald¡¯s blade was the prow of a ship as he casually cut his way through a sea of humanity. I needed to do something. To help more. Another spell came to mind and I quickly began the proper phrases and gestures before I lost line of sight with everyone. A long moment went by as a final cry rang out.

    ¡°Bellare Encantatem!¡±

    The spell spilled out in a torrent, covering each of the party in sight in a red aura that brightened as each of them fought.

    You have received a buff: War Cry. Speed, Strength, Dexterity, and Defense are increased by 1% for every enemy engaged during combat and for every thirty seconds that passes during combat for a maximum of 20%.

    As I stepped away from Kruhl¡¯s shield I caught one last glimpse of a broadly smiling Gerald as he made his way toward where I had last seen Jackson. A harmony of bladed weapons caught my attention as I saw Blondie scything through a number of combatants, always catching them from the back and sides and never stopping to fully engage an opponent. She focused on attacks of opportunity that was as much elegant as it was methodical. A muscled barbarian type came rushing out and caught her up in a powerful grapple, carrying her away through the crowd. She disappeared quickly but I caught the sight of a broad smile on her face as her knives descended in a blur. The movement of her arms was limited by the hold the man had on her. I fired off three quick fireballs that required nothing more than a flick of one hand and word.

    You hit PapaBear for 11 damage!

    You hit PapaBear for 13 damage!

    Critical Hit! You hit IckyMouse for 25 damage!

    You have slain IckyMouse! Experience Received!

    The last of the three fireballs was lost in the crowd as Blondie and PapaBear disappeared. I couldn¡¯t even make out the wounded player that I had sent off for respawn. Jackson and I had often played outside and we pretended to fight zombies for as long as I could remember. Most of those games at some point ended up with us surrounded and having to fight our way free of a teeming mass of mindless hunger. This melee was entirely too evolved for my taste. I preferred my hordes to stick to teeth and not upgrade to tool using.

    Kruhl was using his sword to good effect and refused to be limited by most peoples interpretation of how shields should work. He hammered the tapered edges into necks, thighs, and knuckles as often as he used it to turn a blow. My mind flashed through the quick and dirty spells from the book. My fingers contorted into a gesture, my thumbs interlocked and index fingers pointed toward Kruhl.

    ¡°Incendre!¡±

    The sword and shield Kruhl held were wreathed in flames. His blows now left smoking gashes and even caught clothing and hair alight of some of the more unfortunate players. Between two struggling figures, I saw a man holding a similar book to mine running his finger down the page. Looking up he made a familiar series of gestures, his lips moving in harmony as though reciting lyrics. A tight group of three were making their way toward him, swords swinging loose and casual. They had the look of cats who found a mutt on their territory. The group had made their avatars with scars and tattoos along their faces, their hair and clothes disheveled and mismatched.

    The caster finished his spell and lightening snapped across the distance between them. The spell had barely finished casting and sending the bad boys off to a dirt nap when an arrow pierced the shoulder of the man holding the book. The lightening snapped off instantly. An archer dressed in similar bandit garb as the three men had stepped forward into the small ring of space, as though those fighting around wanted nothing to do with what was going on in this small battlefield clearing. I¡¯m not sure why I did what I did next. Maybe it was the sense of connection I had in seeing him with a book so like my own. Maybe it was the unfair nature of the fight, or the look and bearing of his attackers. One thing was for sure, though. I hated bullies.

    I sprinted forward, shoving through the crowd. A quick gesture and word flung a dagger of frost leaping from my fingers and embedding itself in the back of the archers head. A curious thought flashed instantly through my head along with the action. I wondered how the physics worked and the allowance for creative spell combinations. The next spell didn¡¯t require any gestures.

    ¡°Firian!¡±

    Surprise Attack! Critical Hit! You hit Lobos for 47 damage! (Ice Dagger)

    Critical Hit! You hit Lobos for 134 Damage! (Explosive)

    You have slain Lobos! Experience Received! You have gained a level!

    The results were more spectacular than I had imagined. I had used a fire spell from the book. Instead of a somatic component, the spell required you to direct the heat with your intent. It was difficult to focus my mind in such a narrow spectrum, but the thought and the doing had come to me all at the same time. I used the spell to suddenly reverse the temperature of the ice dagger, picturing the spell affecting the entire dagger all at once. The rapid change caused an explosion while the dagger was still inside the player. His upper half distorted in an explosion of pixels as he collapsed. The three players turned to look at the commotion as I began flinging combinations of fire and ice that weren¡¯t particularly deadly singly, but which chipped away at their health pools and caused them to scatter. I laughed at the exhilaration of it all. This game was amazing. I could fight for and alongside the weak and afraid not stand back and watch the strong walking over everyone else. I kept pouring spell after spell into the dodging and hiding group. Just a few more seconds and they¡¯d begin to fall one by one.

    A strange lethargy came over me then. My spells began to falter, the words coming thick and slower in my mouth, and my breathing began to labor. I felt like I had run a race I hadn¡¯t trained for. Not with my body, but with my mind.

    ¡°Her mana is finally running out! Looks like she¡¯s finally run out of mana potions if she¡¯s cast that many spells.¡± The leader of the three stated. I had their full attention now. All three of them had straightened up or come out from behind cover. ¡°She¡¯s definitely one of them. Take her out.¡±

    I began to back away from the three. Before they had taken a second step toward me a lance of lightning struck the leader in the back. He had been trailing behind the other two. Light illuminated him and rose to a crescendo over the next couple of seconds before exploding. All three of the bandits were blown away from each other and into the dirt of the arena floor.

    The man I had seen with the book stepped through the clouds of smoke and dust. He was handsome. I had expected that. When you can create any face and body you wanted to, I knew that the game world would be flooded with unrealistically attractive players. I wasn¡¯t prepared to meet his gaze, however. His eyes were an icy Alaskan sky.

    ¡°You guys really shouldn¡¯t turn your back on an enemy.¡± The caster spoke as he walked towards me. ¡°Thanks for the assist. Those guys really seemed to have it out for me and spell casting takes some getting used to. I¡¯m Gandhi, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Gandhi?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Yeah, well. It started out as a joke in first person shooter games we¡¯d play. I¡¯d always go with Gandhi so that it would say ¡®you¡¯ve been killed by Gandhi¡¯ in the text chat, and well¡­ you know. The guy¡¯s a big pacifist and all that. It seems kind of stupid now, but I¡¯m pretty much stuck with it. I can¡¯t really see myself using any other handle anymore.¡±

    A noise caught our attention. I began to scan the crowd. I realized that the amassed crowd I had been in before had been the largest group of those fighting, making it feel more George Romero than fantasy RPG. I could clearly see now, that the group of what I had assumed were a thousand players had been decimated. There were maybe a hundred players standing and the skirmishes had grown in intensity as the more hardcore or seasoned warriors fought each other. More relevant to me, however, were the fallen enemies that had gotten up. They had also added two more to their number from somewhere. I turned to look behind me and saw the two new-comers slow from an apparent sprint into a walk as they closed ranks around us.

    I felt Gandhi press his back against mine. ¡°You take that side. I¡¯ll get this one.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t do anything. I¡¯m out of mana.¡±

    ¡°What? I thought you had more potions.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any potions. That guy was an idiot. I never used one.¡±

    Despite the danger from the men around us I felt him turn his body toward me.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t use any? How¡ª? Never mind. If you haven¡¯t used any you have five in your pack. It¡¯s part of your starter kit. Take one out and drink it. Fast.¡±

    I mentally slapped my forehead. I hadn¡¯t had time to even look at my character screen much less search my inventory. My mind flicked to thoughts of opening up my inventory screen, and there it was. I focused on the slot with the blue mana potion and mentally reached for it. To my surprise, as the thought occurred, my hand reached into a pouch at my belt and withdrew a blue vial. I drank it down quickly and was pleased to see my mana bar replenish from 4% to 54%. I dismissed the screen with a mental flick. I began running through my spell options when my eyes caught a blur of motion.

    A lone arrow arced over the heads of the crowd.

    I followed its trajectory back and found Jackson. His bow was still tilted forward at an angle as it did after he shot, his eyes focused past me. I looked back at the arrow, my mind doing the kind of instinctive calculation it does when someone tosses something to you when you aren''t ready for it. I knew where it was going. My eyes tracked to Zion. He was looking straight at me. At our outnumbered standoff. He had a half-smile and a fiery glint in his eyes. He continued to hold my gaze as the arrow closed in. Then, time slowed.

    It was an odd feeling. My body moved slowly, but my mind operated like normal. The moment was stretched like taffy for everything except my thoughts. I saw Zion¡¯s eyes flick to the arrow, his smile still in place. I saw him smoothly shift his body, intentionally allowing the arrow to graze him. There was no other explanation. The movement was too smooth and calculated for it to be any other way.

    I couldn¡¯t explain what was going on. I could only assume that Zion was doing something. My mind continued to race. I could use this. I had to trust that Jackson knew what he was doing¡ªor, that he was an idiot. Either way, I couldn¡¯t help him. But maybe he could help me.

    My head and shoulders moved as though they were suspended in a thick oil, my hands already coming up as I leveled my fingers in an arcane gesture toward the two men. Gandhi¡¯s original spell had given me an idea. It was a channeling spell that required only a thought to trigger, but you had to keep your focus. That wouldn¡¯t do here. I would be wasting the opportunity that this moment was giving me. Instead, I concentrated on casting spell after spell that only required the thought to activate. It was a similar alternating combination of machine gun like fire and ice that I had used earlier, but this time concentrated and stacked up one onto the other. My mana bar plummeted as the spells left my fingers, pointed toward each of the two men.

    My mana hit zero.

    I turned my head toward Jackson, already forgetting about the two dead men. One hand was slowly, ever so slowly, reaching into my belt pouch for another potion. I had turned in time to see Zion and Jackson, moving and talking normally. I saw a flash of red lightening and Jackson scream. Zion pulled his sword free from where it hung on his hip, and with casual strength brought it down onto my brother. In the moment before the blade struck my stomach sank with a lurch. Calen had lept in front of the blow, trying to protect him. Even from here I could tell it was too late. Light blinded me at the point of impact. My hand completed its movement in a blur, as time¡¯s heartbeat restarted. I pulled another bottle free with a thought and angrily drank it down as a thundering explosion and the sounds of shattering ice hammered the air behind me.

    You hit Spike for 217 Damage! (Flame Shock x 8, Ice Lance x 9)

    You have slain Spike! Experience Received!

    You hit Doberman for 198 Damage! (Flame Shock x 7, Ice Lance x 8)

    You have slain Doberman! You have slain Spike! Experience Received! Double kill! 2x Experience bonus received. You have gained a level!

    I glared at where Zion stood, my fingers shaping a spell, funneling my emotions into a white hot core. My mind refused to shape the words and actions into something familiar from the book, but I continued on, heedless. My mana began to drain once more, pouring more and more into the spell until it sizzled and hissed. Gandhi was forced to take a step away as he shielded his eyes. Stupid! He was so stupid! It was one thing destroying himself, but now he was taking others down with him.

    I threw the spell.

    Critical Hit! You hit Nightwolf for 506 Damage!

    You hit HowlyMcHowlFace for 151 damage! (Area of Effect)

    You hit BigBad for 147 damage! (Area of Effect)

    You have slain Nightwolf! You have slain HowlyMcHowlFace! You have slain BigBad! Experience Received! Triple kill! 3x Experience bonus received. You have gained a level! You have gained a level!

    Congratulations! You have unlocked a Hidden Ability: Retribution. Upon the death of a member of your group, you may cast this spell. Its destructive capability is determined by your level and the amount of mana invested into the spell.

    The bandit leader¡¯s body was blown back as his two henchmen were once again blasted to the floor, their bodies disintegrating into pixels a moment later. Jackson had proven that attacking Zion was pointless. He had also proven which side of the--knowing what he was doing versus being an idiot fence he fell on.

    I turned to see Gandhi¡¯s mouth hanging open as he stared at me. ¡°What? How did you¡ª¡±

    A thunderclap shook the arena, followed by another, and then another. We all looked up to see Zion, floating there above us, clapping his hands together.

    ¡°Well done, cubs. Well done. You who still stand have passed the initial trial and will enter into your studies with honors. Do not forget that though you stand at the top today, each of the other Sojourners will be gaining in strength and will be looking to topple you from your positions as Harbingers. Enter, and find your rest, warriors. You have earned it.¡± His hand swept through the air grandly and lightening illuminated a doorway into the keep.

    Gerald, Daniels, and the rest came jogging up to me as I headed toward the doors. The odd sense of fog on my mind from the mana drain was very disconcerting. My legs felt heavy and tired. I was breathing heavily. When had that happened? Our missing party members didn''t go without notice.

    Gerald looked to me and then out and around at the crowd of people. His brow furrowed in a question.

    I shook my head and continued to make my way toward the door. After a pause, everyone followed me inside.

 Chapter 14

    Chapter 14 - Jackson

    You Have Died. Due to the nature of your death you will respawn in 30 minutes.

    30 minutes. It should have been instantaneous. That was a good sign. I stared at the text for a long time, thinking over the events of the last few days and that last battle in particular. Was I making a mistake? Nothing was going according to plan. I mean, I expected some problems. No plan survives first contact with the enemy and all that, but it was really going off the rails.

    Why, Calen? Why¡¯d you do it? Wasn¡¯t it obvious that I was antagonizing Zion on purpose? No one starts out a new game and goes straight for the raid boss thinking ¡°this should be fine.¡± I had plans, and those plans didn¡¯t include her. I needed everyone to think that I was out of control and out to tear down the world. It was the only way to keep them away. To keep them safe. I wasn¡¯t going to let anything happen to anyone else again.

    What really scared me though was how close to the surface those feelings really were. I couldn¡¯t tell where the act began and where I do. I tried not to look too deeply inside myself lately, after everything that happened with mom. There was a monster lurking down there, and I just hoped the cage held. All I can do now is to work toward something that might help and hope it doesn¡¯t destroy me in the mean time.

    Deathclawz, you had better be right about all of this, because if you¡¯re wrong I just screwed my best chance at getting strong enough and influential enough to find out who hurt mom. If that happened¡ªthe beast in my chest snarled and rammed the walls of its prison. I took a deep breath.

    Calen. I sighed. I guess my plans had better make room, because we we¡¯re stuck in it now.

    Wait. Where was my body? I reached out my arm in front of me toward the text and the 30 minute count down timer that had appeared. My hand pressed against a smooth surface and a light show went off in my brain. My arm screamed at me that I¡¯d made a big mistake moving it around. That pain suddenly brought to light all of the aches and pains across my body and bruised face.

    At my touch the lid to the immersion capsule slid open. I closed my eyes and moaned for a bit longer. I felt worse than when I had gotten into the capsule. All of the muscles on my body felt tired and strained. A sweat had broken out on my forehead from the sharp pain in my arm. I pushed it all to the back of my mind, gritted my teeth and slowly got out of the capsule. I checked the time. We¡¯d been in for about an hour, though it had felt longer inside the game. Quincy had mentioned a time dilation affect. Time in the game moved twice as fast. I shook my head. This technology was going to wreak havoc on intellectual based jobs. You could log into Infinity just for the time delay and knock out an 8 hour work day in 4 hours, cram for that exam. I wondered what would happen if you logged in just to sleep. Could you sleep four hours and get 8 hours worth of rest? I decided I¡¯d have to test it out and see.

    I used the restroom, checking on the apartment and everyone in it. They were still logged into the game and the cameras and security equipment showed that everything else looked normal. I made my way back to my room and worked my way through a series of stretches Gerald regularly browbeat me into working into my morning routine. I did them more days a week than I didn¡¯t, which I felt was pretty good. I stepped into a movement Gerald called the ¡°spiderman.¡± I groaned as my sore muscles protested. I felt like I¡¯d been in a fight. At that, I thought back to the arena. I considered the strikes I¡¯d made with the sword and the movements I¡¯d performed. As I worked my way through the memory I realized that all of those muscle groups I had used were what was most sore on my body. What was going on here?

    I remembered the pain I¡¯d felt in shooting the arrows with my arm. The one I had broken in real life, yet was undamaged on my avatar. I glanced down at the cast that wound up my wrist and around my thumb. I flexed my fingers. A dull pain throbbed at the movement. I took a shooters stance and mimed pulling an arrow.

    I couldn¡¯t tell.

    There wasn¡¯t any draw weight from an actual bow and my shoulders and arms were without a doubt the strongest muscles I had. They¡¯d developed over long hours and thousands of arrows shot down range, not to mention rolling on the mat, and sword training with Gerald. If anything, they were the one place that wasn¡¯t sore. I didn¡¯t feel like any of the wounds I had taken in the game were bothering me. That was definitely a plus. I didn¡¯t need to wake up from the game with a perforated kidney. I set the mystery aside as I finished up my mobility exercises and used the foam roller in the corner to work out more of the stiffness. I moved more easily as I made my way to the fridge. My muscles were still sore but now there were loose and warm.

    The fridge was stocked with bottled water, lunch meats, and vegetables. The freezer had chicken breast, bags of microwavable steamed veggies and the remaining space was packed full of hot pockets.

    I climbed back into the rig, popping the last bit of pepperoni and crust into my mouth and finishing off the rest of the water bottle. I touched the close icon and was met with a system message after the capsule had encased my body.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Due to the intervention of a System Administrator (Zion) your resurrection bind point has been established.

    Do you wish to resurrect?

    Yes/No

    My heartbeat began to quicken. Instead of reaching out with my hand, I tried thinking the command to accept the resurrection. My vision went black as all of my senses seemed to switch off at once. I blinked to check my vision again.

    The moment my eyes flicked open I found myself laying on a bedroll in front of a fire.

    Congratulations! You have discovered a new location, Greenwood Forest! 4/5 locations discovered until next achievement.

    A branch snapped behind me and I sat up quickly, running my hands over myself and on the ground around me for a weapon. I turned to find Calen pushing through the branches of the trees behind me. Her arms were full of heavy dead branches. She moved past me, glancing quickly at my eyes and then back to the fire.

    ¡°I was beginning to wonder how long it would take for you to come back.¡± She piled the wood up next to a much larger pile. She¡¯d been busy.

    ¡°Uh, yeah. I had to wait for the resurrection timer to finish.¡± I ran my fingers through my hair awkwardly. ¡°What is this place? Did you make the camp? How long have you been here? How¡¯d you know that I would show up at all?¡±

    She turned back to me. ¡°I¡¯ve been here about an hour. I resurrected pretty much immediately after¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°When I woke up I was in this camp. I got an achievement for being the first to discover the Greenwood Forest. I was pretty scared at first, being here by myself, but I noticed there was a second bedroll set up, so I just figured¡­ I¡¯ve been collecting extra wood to keep the fire going and looking around. I wasn¡¯t sure how long it would take and a lot of things in the forest are scared of fire. So I didn¡¯t want ours to go out.¡±

    That, that actually made a lot of sense. She didn¡¯t just sit around and push off the responsibility for taking action and making something happen. She got to work. It was like seeing her in a whole new light. We¡¯d always been friends, ever since I could remember. Living with Jane and having Kaylin always there it had always felt like I¡¯d had two sisters instead of just the one. I let my eyes move over her for a moment. She was outfitted in the standard beginning adventurer kit. Leather boots, belt, and rough spun tunic and trousers, but her bearing transformed the garb into something more. A flash of green caught my eye as I noticed something I hadn¡¯t before. A series of thin silver links wove through her hair and caressed an emerald as it lay suspended on her brow. It matched her eyes perfectly. I couldn¡¯t look away. I knew I had to say something. I cleared my throat.

    ¡°Calen.¡± I said softly. ¡°About¡­ what happened in the arena. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She held up a hand forestalling anything else I might say. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, Ja¡ª¡± She laughed gently. ¡°I guess its Walker here.¡± She straightened her shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. You don¡¯t have anything to apologize for. I made my decision and I knew that I¡¯d have to live with it, even if I was unsure of just what those consequences might be, I accepted that as well.¡±

    ¡°But why? Why¡¯d you do it?¡±

    She paused a long moment. ¡°You know why I did it, Walker. You have been trying to push everyone and everything away from you since the accident. I haven¡¯t said anything until now, because I know how hard it is to lose someone you care for and the last thing I needed when I was in your shoes were empty platitudes. All the ¡°everything will be okay¡¯s¡±, ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡¯s¡±, and ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how you must feel¡¯s¡± in the world don¡¯t help and don¡¯t change anything. But I think after everything that¡¯s happened, I¡¯ve earned the right to this conversation. Right now you¡¯re angry, confused, and looking for something to fight against. Some enemy that you can lash out against and you don¡¯t know what to do, because as things stand there isn¡¯t anything to fight. Cancer has a way of making you feel the same way.¡± She said the last very quietly. ¡°You haven¡¯t even considered the possibility that what happened do your mom was an accident. And before you say anything, I¡¯m not saying that it was or that it wasn¡¯t. What I¡¯m saying is that you want to go out there and find a dragon to fight. Some villain who¡¯s caused you so much pain. Let me tell you. You¡¯ll find it. Whether they are real or not, you¡¯ll find someone or something to fight. If they actually have anything to do with what happened to you or not will be irrelevant. And Jack?¡­ When you win?¡­ It doesn¡¯t make you feel any better¡­ You want to push everyone away so that when you find that hornets nest and kick it, you wont have to face the guilt of being the cause of the backlash hurting someone you care about. Jack? The people you care about? They care about you too.¡± A tear traced its way down her face. ¡°When you push them away and when you put yourself in danger and they can¡¯t be there to help you?¡± She turned back to the woods, walking slowly. She paused before entering the trees. Her voice drifted back to me on the breeze. ¡°That hurts worse than anything anyone else could do to them.¡± The branches of the trees and leaves seemed to draw her into them, and away from me.

    I sat staring into the fire for a long time afterward. I never even wiped the tears from my face. I wouldn¡¯t have, even if I had realized they were there.