Interlude- Brandon (15 page)

Chapter 41

Thorn stared at the monitor and watched the scene unfold.

Brandon and his Hand were smiling as they entered the beginners’ area. Jostling and pushing each other playfully, the five of them stood at the top of the hill and looked down.

Resembling the bunny slope at a ski resort, it was more of a long ramp than a hill; the perfect place for new fliers to learn and hone their skills. The kids watched an instructional video, then nodded and spread out to give each other wing space. In unison, they gently tapped a spot just behind their right shoulder and smiled in delight as ghostlike wings sprang from their backs. The wings all had the same faint gold tinge to them.

Brandon went first, beginning by walking slowly down the hill.  The air caught his wings, gently lifting him a foot or so off the ground. He laughed and tried to position his wings to steer himself back to the ground. A few moments later he succeeded and thudded into the grass, rolling and laughing at his first semi-successful attempt. The others joined him and began to jump, glide and land with varying degrees of success.

Thorn watched them for a few more minutes, scanning the entire scene as if searching for something specific. Finally he looked away from the screen and raised his eyes questioningly at the computer designer sitting beside him. “Did it happen while I was watching?” Thorn asked.

The designer smiled and nodded. “About a dozen times, sir. You didn’t see it?”

Thorn shook his head with a frown. “I saw nothing. Have others noticed this, too, or just you?”

“Others have noticed it as well, sir. If you’ll allow me to work with the settings, perhaps I can slow the frame rate down to help you spot it.”

Thorn stood to allow the designer access to his keyboard. The scene inside the Sim froze and then rewound. The designer began to play the recording, and after a few moments he suddenly he hit the pause button.

“Okay, there was one. Let me just back it up slightly and then run it in slow motion…” Thorn watched as the next few frames advanced slowly. He saw nothing… until suddenly he gasped.

“Whoa!” Thorn exclaimed, “What the hell was that?”

The designer smiled and rewound the scene to play it again. After a couple of times rewinding it and playing it slowly, he played it a final time on regular speed.

“Yes, I saw it that time,” Thorn said. “Now that I know what I’m looking for it’s impossible not to see it.”

“Excellent, sir. We were hoping you could tell us exactly what it is.”

“You mean, who it is,” Thorn said.

The designer frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand what you mean. We all see a smoky shape,” the designer said. “None of us can tell what it is, but it looks like a ball of dark smoke that just appears for a brief instant and then disappears. At first we thought it was something wrong with the circuitry, which prompted us to conduct thorough diagnostics of every circuit, every chip, every processor. The inspections all proved clean. Then we guessed it might be caused by a glitch in the recording software, but we found nothing there either. We’ve tested every system and component of the Sim exhaustively, Mr. Thorn, and we can’t come up with a reason for the smudge to be there.”

Thorn considered the information for a few moments, then shook his head. “I’m not certain what it is,” he admitted. “Does it appear to have any pattern?”

“Initially we thought no, but after we tracked and observed it for a while, it does indeed appear to have a pattern,” the designer admitted.

The two men sat looking at each other. Thorn waited for the designer to give him an answer, but the other man said nothing.

Finally Thorn snapped at him. “Stop sitting there like an idiot. What’s the pattern?”

The designer pointed to the screen and lightly tapped the live image of Brandon. He was now gliding smoothly down the hill as if he’d been flying forever. “Brandon is the pattern,” he said.

Thorn stopped breathing for a second as he watched the monitor again. Sure enough, the smudge appeared again right beside Brandon. “Are you telling me that this is only occurring near Brandon, and nowhere else inside the Sim?”

The designer nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, sir. We’ve looked for it everywhere else for the past three weeks since we first observed it near the boy. The only time we see this smudge is when Brandon is inside the Sim, and it’s always found very close to him.”

Thorn watched the monitor and said nothing. Finally the designer spoke up. “Would you like us to bring everyone out and do a complete reboot of the system? That will likely eliminate the smudge.”

“No!” Thorn blurted. Realizing how that must have sounded, he smiled and took a deep breath before he replied in a much calmer tone, “That won’t be necessary yet. Leave the issue with me and I’ll see what I can learn about it. We might need to do a complete reboot, but I want to try a few things first.”

The designer nodded. “That’s fine, sir. Let me know if you require any assistance.”

“I assume you’ve isolated and compiled a complete video of its appearances?”

The man frowned. “No, we didn’t do that,” he said.

Thorn waved his hand absently. “Don’t bother. It’s a small and insignificant issue; leave it with me and I’ll take care of it.”

The designer nodded and left the office.

Thorn slowed down the playback and when he saw the smudge again he hit the pause command. He looked at it for a long time, trying to think of what to do.

The designer said everyone saw a smoky, round shape.

Thorn, on the other hand, saw the clear and distinct image of a man standing near Brandon. Thorn had no idea who the man was or what he was doing hidden inside the Sim, but he meant to find out.

Chapter 42

“The Sim program has grown significantly, Mr. Thorn,” the General took a sip of his coffee, placed the cup back on the table with deliberation, and smiled pleasantly as he met Thorn’s eyes.

“It has,” Thorn agreed. “Over fifteen hundred Centre students and three thousand enlisted adults.”

“I think we can begin to integrate them.”

“Have children face adults?” Thorn asked.

The General nodded as he took another sip from his cup. Thorn considered the logistics and nodded positively. “It’s not a difficult merge to make,” he said. “You don’t think such a thing is a bit… premature?”

The General’s face tightened slightly and he shook his head. “We are in year three of the Sim, and approaching the four year anniversary. Both groups have had adequate time to become accustomed to the VR technology. Most spend more time in the Sim than they do in reality, according to the reports that cross my desk.”

“That is true,” Thorn admitted. The General’s players spent so much time inside the Sim that reality was truly turning into the dream they all referred to it as. There were enough tables now to accommodate all players, and those who could mentally handle the simulations were so addicted to it that they spent only as much time out of the Sim as they had to. Those who couldn’t handle the Sim…”What about the dropouts?” Thorn asked.

“What about them?” the General asked.

“As you instructed, those who have cracked are being held in stasis, but they can’t remain that way forever, sir. What do you want us to do with them?”

The General nodded curtly. “Dispose of them.”

Thorn felt a cold wave spread over him. “Kill them,” he said flatly.

“If they are of no use to us, then they’re already dead,” the General spoke as if he was telling a waiter to take away the remains of his dinner.

Thorn nodded.

“Hold on a second,” the General said. “Are they completely empty?”

“No,” Thorn said. “They simply can’t determine what is real from what isn’t. They have moments of lucidity, but most of the time they are dangerous and unstable to both themselves and others around them.” Thorn remembered the first few who had cracked. It had begun only a few months ago when, over the course of three weeks, forty-two children and twenty-seven adults had suddenly started to kill their friends and team members. It had occurred both within the Sim and out. Innocent people had died painful and permanent deaths. Thorn and the lead designers had quickly developed a test inside the Sim to determine if players were about to snap. Those that failed were kept inside the Sim, their bodies put in stasis. So far one hundred and thirty-four had failed the profile testing.

“They are still inside the Sim, right?”

“Yes,”

“Let’s see if we can put these poor soldiers to use then. I’m sure they would like to make their lives count for something in the long run.”

“What did you have in mind, General?”

“Since they are Blurred, I suggest we have them play a game or two. Let’s see how effective the project has been so far.”

Chapter 43

“What does ‘Blurred’ mean?”

Cooper stopped what he was doing and gave Brandon his full attention. “Where did you hear that term?” he asked.

Brandon shrugged. “When those kids went nuts and started stabbing each other a few weeks ago. Someone said they were ‘Blurred’.”

Cooper sat down and leaned against the wall, motioning for Brandon to do the same. The two had spent a lot of time together over the years and gotten pretty close; not as close as Thorn and Brandon, but almost.

Cooper ran his hand through his hair and looked at Brandon. “Your eyes ever get tired? You know, blurry vision?”

“Yeah, sure,” Brandon said. “It’s tough to see straight. Things get blurry and you can’t tell exactly how it all looks. If someone is a bit too far away and you’re seeing blurry you can’t tell if they are friend or enemy, or if they have a weapon on you or not.”

“Exactly,” Cooper said. “It can get the same jumping back and forth between Sim and the Dream. Sometimes if you get tired, or weak, or just super stressed out, it’s tough to tell if you’re in the Sim, or back in reality. Blurred.”

“Oh,” Brandon said. “They want us all Blurred.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Since the beginning they’ve made a real mess of how we come in and go out of the Sim.” Brandon said. “I remember early on some of the team was confused about if we were inside the Sim or out. I told them that’s what the General wants…for us to get so confused we don’t know where we are.”

Cooper was impressed. “Why would he want that?”

Brandon shrugged. “I can think of a couple reasons,” he smiled at Cooper, “You think I’m right?” 

Cooper chuckled and gave Brandon a playful shove with his shoulder. “You could be,” he said. “How are you doing with it? You get blurred much?”

Brandon laughed. “I’ve never been blurry, and they’ve tried real hard to get me that way.”

“Really?” Cooper looked doubtful. “You’ve never once been confused? Hell, I’ve been blurry myself once or twice.”

“Nope. I always know where I am,” Brandon said. “So what’s the difference between blurry… and Blurred?”

“Control,” Cooper said. “If you’re blurry, then you aren’t sure where you are, but after a bit you can figure it out. It might take a while, but you can get it worked out. If you’re Blurred… well, then you’ve lost your way and can’t figure out where you are no matter what happens. It makes you go a bit crazy.”

“That why they started stabbing people?”

“Yeah. They panicked and thought they could figure out where they were by stabbing a person and seeing if it was an avatar.”

The two sat quietly for a few moments. Finally Brandon asked another question.

“What’s gonna happen to them?”

“They’ll be taken out of the Sim when it’s safe,” Cooper said. “They’ll send them back to the regular Centre and get them some help. Eventually everything will be fine.”

Brandon knew Cooper was lying, but he decided not to press the issue. “That’s good,” he said.

===

“Good morning.” The General stood at the head of the command centre where a large screen covered the entire front wall. Seven people sat around a large table and watched him  All of them wore crisp uniforms decorated with various medals and ribbons signifying the top rank
s from each division of the General’s impressive military machine.

“I’ve brought you here to observe the first of many operations involving recruits from our Game Facilities. Please keep in mind that this program is very young, at less than four years old. There will be many improvements over time as we learn from our efforts, but I think you’ll all be impressed by what you see in the next few hours. Feel free to ask as many questions as you like.”

The General motioned for everyone to look at the main viewer and the lights dimmed. A first person perspective camera view appeared on the screen, apparently from someone wearing a helmet cam. The person appeared to be inside an airborne carrier, along with a team of both male and female soldiers.

“The fifteen individuals you see on the screen have been equipped with equipment appropriate for their mission. They are flying into enemy territory, where they will be air dropped under cover of darkness. Their job is to work as a team to infiltrate a particularly well defended encampment, eliminate all defence, and assassinate the camp leader who is currently number three on our most wanted list.”

“This mission has been tried before,” a woman said from the left side of the table. “It was a horrible failure, as I recall. The enemy position is deeply fortified and protected.”

“That’s true,” the General agreed.

“This is a suicide mission,” she stated.

“Perhaps.”

“Are some of the people on that carrier children?” a Major asked.

“All fifteen people are products of PROJECT SIM,” the General said.

“Ah,” the woman nodded, “the virtual reality simulator. I’ve been curious about its progress.”

Others around the table nodded their heads and murmured in agreement. The General smiled confidently as he sat down, swiveling his seat to watch the scene on the front monitor with the rest of them. “I think you’ll be pleased with the results. One of our goals inside the Sim is to induce a state where subjects are no longer able to distinguish reality from the simulation. We’ve coined the term ‘Blurred’ to describe this condition, and are working patiently to attain it with our players. It will take years of gradual and subtle manipulation to allow us to bring subjects in and out of this state, but we’re seeing incredible results in just the short time we’ve been at it.”

“The subjects we are viewing have achieved a stable Blurred state?” an older commander asked.

"Blurred,” the General said, “but not stable. These subjects weren’t able to handle the stresses involved. The fifteen you see have lost their grasp on reality and cannot be brought out of the Blurred state.”

The crew began to parachute out of the plane.

Finally the woman spoke up. “What is it we’re supposed to see?”

“The power that comes from soldiers who are convinced that they’re playing a game,” the General said. “These children and adults have hundreds of hours of real combat experience; they’ve died countless times and learned from each failure. As they attempt to destroy this fortification, I want all of you to see how effective the Sim program can be.”

For the next three hours, the military leaders watched with rapt attention as the fifteen players fared better than trained and hardened veterans had done in past attempts. With impressive precision and skill, the motley looking crew managed to destroy over three quarters of the base. Of particular note was the point group which consisted of four children that the General confirmed were each no older than 15. They communicated perfectly, entering and securing buildings with the confidence and accuracy of a veteran special ops team.

It looked as if they might actually accomplish their impossible mission, but a bad streak of luck caused the General to swear loudly as the group was surrounded by enemy forces and quickly dispatched.

“What just happened?” a Major asked. “They were doing so well, then everything just fell apart.”

The General shook his head angrily, “Rewind the footage back three minutes,” he said.

As they began to watch the playback, the General said, “Watch the lead point step on that mine and tap his right leg.” Everyone watched as the boy did exactly as the General described.

“Why did he tap his leg and then continue to walk forward?” the woman asked. “He obviously knew he’d just stepped on a land mine, yet he kept going as if it wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Perks,” the General said with disgust. “Inside the Sim, players have the opportunity to purchase extended abilities with points that they accumulate. This group was specifically told that no perks would function in this scenario, but
that one appears to have forgotten. If he’d been inside the Sim, tapping his leg would have frozen the mine and allowed him five seconds to get safely out of the blast radius. He should have yelled at the others about the mine and just fallen on it once they’d moved away to safety.”

“But instead he said nothing and all four of them walked right into its path.”

“Exactly,” the General said. He pointed at the other three groups who had quickly perished after the point group was taken out. “See that one right there?” He pointed to an adult who appeared to be leading the others in coordination with the point team. “Once he learned the point team was down, he signaled for a wipe.”

“He did what?” the oldest commander at the table asked.

“He signaled for them to all die quickly.”

“Why would he do that?”

The General sighed. “So they could respawn and try the scenario again with the point kids back in play.”

“They’ll be surprised when they don’t respawn,” a Colonel said. Others shook their heads at the dark joke and the General made a
sour face.

“Thoughts?” the General asked.

“Remarkable,” the woman said. Everyone else at the table nodded in agreement.

“Admittedly, there are bugs to work out,” the General said. “But did any of you expect to see a performance like this from such an ordinary looking group of people?”

“The Sim is producing better results than we could have predicted,” the woman said with a smile. She stood up and everyone else in the room followed suit.

She approached the General and shook his hand. “Excellent start, Donovan, keep up the good work.”

The General smiled. “Thank you, Madame President.”