Skirmish (The Stork Tower Book 8) Page 12

  Leah arrived just as Alan arrived and after the usual greetings and comments on her health, Alan said, “A: I’m sorry I had to reschedule, but I found another incursion through my security I had to deal with. I’m pretty sure it was another attempt by an Epic, but the code was fundamentally different from the one who left the message for you.”

  “I’m sorry I brought their attention down on you.”

  “A: Thank you, but the evidence is they’ve known about my backdoors for a while. It’s only been since I upgraded the security that I’m seeing the evidence for it. I suspect some are simply trying to reach areas they’ve previously moved through freely. I’m glad I’m closing their access.”

  “So, how did one leave a message for you?”

  “A: Much like you did, although with a bit more artistry, no offence. There were ten distinct sets of data left throughout my network, each which resolved into a three-dimensional puzzle piece. While I haven’t connected the originals, it was pretty clear that the puzzle forms a figurine of you. I used some copies of the images to put the figurine together, it looks like you are playing in some game. You are dressed almost entirely in black. Only your cloak has some colour.

  “I tried to put the actual pieces together to unlock the message, but they’re freakishly complicated where they join and have a three-dimensional interlocking connection which has to be slid into place with anywhere up to ten or more moves. A puzzle program I wrote is making little progress.

  “It has managed to get the scans to fit together, but as soon as I try it with the real pieces, they become unplayable after a few moves. That’s when I rescanned them and discovered the interlocking grooves are fluid and change position every few seconds. Each time I rescanned them, the program can fit them together. Still, even with the top of the line processors I have, it can’t solve or manipulate the puzzle fast enough.

  “Then I discovered the figurine itself is also shifting through time. It’s possible this is taken from a world you were in, and you have the feed which could predict the changing form. That would help solve the puzzle. Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it was left with me for you.”

  “Do you have the pieces here?”

  “A: Not yet. I wanted to wait for your permission to bring them into your space. In full disclosure, I tried to copy them, but they’re coded to allow only a single copy to exist. I tried copying only a segment of the data from a piece, but as soon as the copying process ended, the smaller portion disappeared. I’ve tried splicing the data, but I haven’t been able to.”

  “I understand entirely. You have my permission to bring the data here.”

  A large black enamel cube appeared beside Alan. Each side was one meter, and it had a figurine of Leah as she appeared in the Runes of Destiny world inscribed on each side. Alan said, “A: That’s a copy of what the final statue looks like. Do you know where it’s from?”

  “Yes! It’s from one of the worlds I have played on.”

  “A: Which one?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve already worked that out.”

  “A: Well, I thought I had. I narrowed it down to five but the one that it’s most likely from using what I know of all the players involved, and by that I include the Epics, doesn’t really support that outfit. The style and textures all match the startup gifts, but not the colours.”

  “Tell me about it. Everyone noticed the black. I’ve only been there the once.”

  “A: Why? I spent several years there, and it was fascinating.”

  “Why did you stop playing?”

  “A: That’s not something I’m comfortable discussing. No one I know who’s ever played the game seriously will discuss what happens inside.”

  “That’s pretty mysterious.”

  “A: Yes. Your confirmation, though, will undoubtedly lead me to start playing again. It seems there are even more questions that need answers.”

  “I am a bit confused, though. The only others I know who play are Nathan and Meredith.”

  “A: No, all the top players in the multiverse play at some stage. Nathan and Meredith are some of the few who can’t help but highlight their successes, or rather, what they see as their successes. I personally think they just don’t get it, the whole mysterious vibe of the place. Runes of Destiny is one of the worlds that keeps a low profile. It keeps its advertising at a minimum, and its security is beyond state of the art. You can find millions of images and feeds from players, but they never show the identity of other players. When people reach a certain level of proficiency, they tend to pull everything they have on the world from the public domain. There are a lot of rumours about the world and its creator, but people like me who’ve spent serious time inside won’t discuss it, and even now I’m a bit uneasy. It isn’t that there is a conspiracy, it’s just the whole concept hits a little close to home, whatever that means.”

  “I think I understand a little. Perhaps it is the idea of earning the rune being more powerful than simply learning it.”

  “A: Leah, you are an enigma. I didn’t learn that truth for almost a year. I’m not even sure my mentor would discuss it with me until I learned a rune on the third level. If you were only there once then how would you know that?”

  “I suspect, from what you and the one other person I know who has played it has said, that I should probably give some mysterious non-answer. Suffice it to say that I didn’t learn it myself until I’d obtained a rune on the third level. I’d best leave it at that until I learn more myself.”

  “A: That is wise. Now, the cube is my representation of a small transportable and secure storage site. I’ve sent your AI the code to open it and suggest you do so in a separate and secure construct until you know what is inside. If I can help, then please let me know.”

  “Thank you, Alan. As soon as I discover something, I’ll let you know even if I cannot share what it is.”

  After a few more minutes of general conversation, Alan left. Leah sat letting the image of the box wash over her skin then stood and said, “Gèng, can you help Three store this data somewhere safe until we have time to look at it in detail?”

  “4: Certainly. You have ten virtual minutes until your meeting in Ascendent. On that matter, Reed says it is roughly ninety-three-point-four-seven percent certain that it can influence the data stream as you requested concerning the timing of the data transfer. It suggested you have another option lined up to deal with the player identity problem. It suggested getting a legal ruling.”

  “Thank you. Three, can you make an appointment with Stephen as soon as our schedules allow?”

  After Three agreed, Leah increased her processing speed and began reviewing the information on Warrior. Warrior had originally been constructed as a world used by the extremely wealthy to settle disputes without costly litigation and public scrutiny. Over time it had expanded its clientele to include everything from couples dealing with particularly messy divorces to nation-states—the complexity of the issues being decided changed the fee structure and the options that were allowed.

  In essence, the world allowed decisions to be made through combat. Depending on the fees paid, the options were almost limitless. A couple not able to decide who had possession of a virtual pet could, for a fee, determine the issue through a trial by combat. Warrior helped by facilitating the combat and providing documentation asserting the outcome that was seen as binding by the courts. A decision in Warrior was sacrosanct in the eyes of the public. Although the issue being decided was rarely made public, the eventual victor was a matter of public record. Who viewed the feed of the battle was one of the variables, and the default option was for the feed to be available to the public on demand.

  It also, for a fee, provided the option for players to be hired as substitutes or champions to do the actual fighting. In the world’s first iteration, the options available were limited to the number of combatants and the number of bouts. After almost thirty years, the possibilities were practically limitless. They covered everythi
ng from single unarmed combat through to global nuclear war.

  Three constraints had not changed and were the bedrock of the world’s success. First, each and every combatant was a player. There were no AI-controlled warriors and no non-player characters. The second constraint was that there were no scripted or pre-determined aspects permitted. If the combat was a duel using swords, then the battle was decided on the players’ sword-wielding ability. If firearms were allowed, then the actual firearm skills of the player determined the path of the projectile.

  Finally, except for pain which could be set between ten and fifty percent, every other statistic was based on the real-world capabilities of the players. A large cut or gash needed a bandage or stitches before the bleeding could be stopped. If someone lost too much blood, then as they lost energy and stamina, they could end up unconscious or dead. Solving this was a virtual blood transfusion which took time and was available only if medics had been included in the combat brief. Recovery was set to relative real-world speed.

  Over time, certain players emerged as highly skilled favourites, and each side of a disagreement sought to hire the best competitors. To combat this seeming inequality, both sides were allocated up to eighty percent of the combined fees to offer as the prize pool. Payment was only made from these funds to those teams who were on the winning side. Attempts had been made to circumvent this provision via the use of out-of-game payments to attract high-quality players. In each case, when Warrior found out, they handed out life-bans for all the players involved.

  Once the outcomes for the winner and loser were decided, a base fee was agreed upon. The actual final amount set to play was based on the number of options, and the base fee was sometimes modified depending on options the different sides wanted to control. For example, a single one-on-one unarmed combat duel within an enclosed space was the most straightforward and cheapest option. It could cost as little as one thousand virtual credits. A national conflict between two armies with several hundred thousand players on each side might cost more than ten billion virtual credits.

  When the sides approaching Warrior had decided on a contract and a fee, they filled in a questionnaire marking their main preferences. Where the choices overlapped, Warrior preset those then finalised the price for a combat scenario. Players then took turns choosing the rest of the conditions. The more conditions the clients wanted to make, the higher the fees.

  The player who had the first choice was decided at random by Warrior. After that, each side took turns to choose aspects of the scenario. The number of options depended mostly on the available funds. Unless there was already a consensus, the first choice set the time-period for the conflict. It ranged from the prehistoric era through to the present. The time-period determined what weapons were available.

  The next decision was about terrain, and options ranged from the arctic tundra to the Andes mountains, from the Sahara to a conflict on the high seas. The options were limited both by the size of the conflict and the time allocated for a result. Both sides approaching Warrior were expected to have come to an agreed-upon figure before the details were decided. To increase this figure after beginning the options phase required the agreement of both parties. Any party pulling out of the contract after Warrior had agreed to participate, forfeited half the amount and were declared the loser.

  Leah was still reviewing material when Three said, “3: Leah, Your meeting in Ascendent will begin in five minutes. Gianna is waiting for you at reception. She has booked the meeting to be held at the Maido-Central Restaurant. It has a Peruvian theme and has separate alcoves where you can dine in anonymity. It is one of the restaurants where non-members are welcome as guests. You are wearing a high-low navy dress with a lace bodice and gold trim and your scarf is a blue and gold silk weave.”

  “Thank you, Three, and thank you, Gèng.”

  Three formed the portal in front of Leah, who stepped through to find Gianna waiting.

  16

  December 27, 2073

  ASCENDENT

  After welcoming Leah, Gianna said, “G: The Maido-Central is one of the more elite venues in Ascendent and one of the only ones to allow full privacy of non-members. Their menu covers the full range of meals, and it is usual for guests to order a meal close to their home time zone. Changing your selection to match your guests is uncommon. Ordering a light meal is perfectly acceptable, but simply choosing a beverage is considered rude to either the host or guest depending on who orders it.”

  “Thank you, Gianna. I appreciate the work you have put in to organise this meeting.”

  “G: It has been my pleasure. Your guests are beginning to arrive.”

  As she finished speaking, they arrived at gold-edged glass doors which opened automatically. Gianna introduced the maître d’hôtel Maido-Central then faded from sight. Leah had just sat down when John and Amy were shown in. John was wearing a cravat and wore a long-tailed evening jacket which he handed to the waiter before pulling out Amy’s seat. Amy had a slim deep green cocktail dress on and a lace shawl.

  Once they were seated, John said, “Bit posh.”

  Leah smiled then said, “No kidding. When I met Nathan here the first time, I racked up almost half-a-million Virtual Credits with the meal I ordered. I still have most of the wines and liquors in the Tower.”

  Amy couldn’t help herself and swore. Three said, “3: Amy shared an expletive. Do you wish to know which one?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Aloud she said, “Three was so polite and didn’t share your word but told me it was an expletive.”

  Amy said, “Thank you, Three. Wow, how much does it cost to be a member?”

  “Too much and I’m not permitted to tell non-members. Don’t worry about it, the anonymity and privacy are worth it.”

  As she finished talking, Ivan, Noah and Yuè Fēi were shown into the private dining room. After everyone was comfortable and ordered their meals, Leah said, “Thanks for coming.”

  Yuè Fēi said, “Y: I do appreciate the invitation but must say I have been somewhat concerned at the urgency of the meeting.”

  Leah said, “Things are happening behind the scenes that I haven’t shared with you before, but they are coming to a head. The truth is I need your help. Each of you knows some of what I want to share, but only John knows all of it. For everyone’s sake, let me give you the main details.”

  Leah explained how she’d been attacked by the slavery malware and her actions up until she was shot, then described what had been done to her and finished with the attack on the Switch earlier that morning. She left out any reference to her modification, the vaults and the three prisoners.

  When she’d finished Noah said, “N: You fought Yuè Fēi and me with a shoulder wound?”

  Leah nodded then said, “Most of that is back history, and while it explains why Meredith and Nathan have been working against me, it doesn’t really explain what I need from you. For that, we need to go back even further. I did some research, and of all of you Noah, you’re the only one who’s been playing for about as long as Meredith has. Can you tell me what she was like when you first knew her?”

  Noah looked around then said, “N: She was different back then, I’d have said she was more like what you are now. She had the skill, but there was something more. She hadn’t developed her hard outer shell and let her vulnerabilities and her personality shine through. I would have said she was someone I admired. She had a strong sense of honour and brought the best out in those around her. Nathan’s always been a bit cold, but back then, even he was warmed by her. Why?”

  “When did you first notice the change in her?”

  “N: Her pregnancies were hard for her. Each time she came back a little sadder but after Jackson was born, that had turned to something hard. She became who we know now. Before that, I would have said we were almost friends, but she cut off most of the people she played with. This affected her playing style, and she dipped in the ranks for a while but finally found her form and has
stayed pretty much on top until now.”

  Ivan was looking at Leah strangely, but she ignored him and asked, “This is the last question before I explain. Will you listen to what I say next and keep it to yourself?”

  “I: Leah, please be careful. So far, you haven’t said anything that crosses a line. I am your friend, but I don’t like secrets which step out of bounds.”

  “Don’t worry, everything I’m sharing is inside the lines.”

  “I: Then you have my word.”

  Both the others and Amy agreed, so Leah continued, “In the next twenty-four hours Meredith will challenge me to a battle in Warrior. If she doesn’t, then I will challenge her. I wanted to know if you were free to join my team?”

  “N: Why would you do that?”

  “It’s complicated, Noah, and it wanders into ground Ivan rightly suggested we stay away from. Fighting on my team is perfectly legal and crosses no boundaries.”

  “Y: What are you playing for?”

  “At least, it will be that whoever loses will stop playing all games in the multiverse in which the other person plays. At most, the loser will not play at all in the multiverse except for work or study.”

  All three men sat forward and started talking at once. When they’d all quietened down, Noah said, “N: Why would you agree to that?”

  “Those are my conditions. The better question is, why would Meredith agree to that and what is she asking for in return?”

  “I: OK, I’ll bite. Why would she agree to that and what is she asking for in return?”

  “I have a record of her and Nathan mocking me and explaining what my kidnappers would do to me and what they had planned for the disposal of my father’s body and mine. She’ll want the feed destroyed and the promise of my silence. She needs to show those she is in cahoots with that I will do nothing to jeopardise what they are doing.”

  “I: Why not simply release that to the authorities?”