Opening Moves (The Gam3 Book 1)
Read Opening Moves (The Gam3 Book 1) Online
Authors: Cosimo Yap
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Cyberpunk, #TV; Movie; Video Game Adaptations
The Gam3 Book One - Opening Moves
Cosimo Yap
Edited by Aimee Hale.
Cover design by Kit Foster.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 by Cosimo Yap. All Rights Reserved.
Table of Contents
Arc 1: The Tutorial
Arc 2: The Guild
When the aliens invaded they brought two things of importance. The Game, and paperwork. Lots of paperwork.
-Anonymous
"Remember, it's just a game," Icewolf said.
"But it's not," Alan replied. "You told me that the Game affects real life. That if you conquer a planet in the Game, you control it in reality."
"Sure, it's a virtual reality massively multiplayer online role playing simulation that was designed to replace all war, but it's still a game. And you need to treat it like one." Icewolf sat back in his chair. He was leaner than Alan remembered; the light grey jumpsuit he wore fit him like a glove. It was emblazoned with the Omnitech Industries logo, a giant steel pylon being struck by lightning.
Alan shook his head, then stared out the window. The view of San Francisco was gorgeous. If anyone had told him a year ago that he would be sitting in a penthouse suite decked out like a Bond villain's lair six months after aliens invaded, about to enter the virtual reality game that was central to their society, he would have dismissed them as a troll. Yet, here he was. A college student with unkempt black hair. Anonymous, or so he liked to think.
"If you play a game, you play to win, right?" Icewolf asked.
"Right," Alan said.
"So if it was a role playing game, where shit is worth something, you would take anything not bolted down or kill another player for their gear, right?" Icewolf asked.
"If I wouldn't get caught and was playing a rogue-type character, sure, but—"
"But nothing, there are no alignments. You play the Game to win. Don't treat it like reality or just another job, it's not, the rules aren't the same. If you die, you'll respawn. If you kill stuff, you'll get rewarded. If you kill enough stuff, you'll level up. And so on. So throw caution to the wind and act in your own best interest."
"Oh, I know that," Alan said. "I didn't become one of the top raiders in the guild flailing around, but I never imagined that this would be my career path. Not that a college degree is worth much with all the AI running about."
Icewolf opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it once more.
"Alright, sure. Do your thing, build your...
character
like you want. There are still laws within the Game, though, so try to follow those. As the good old United World Government rules the Earth, the laws are basically the same. And remember they were able to make the laws not because they were elected, but because they hold the control points in the Game."
"If you say so," Alan said.
"Trust me, when the Enforcer fleet first came here they did jack shit but hand out capsules and broadcast the Message. UWG laws weren't enforced until they had Earth conquered in-game."
"Okay, okay, I believe you. It explains why credits are worth ten dollars each. Can I start playing now?" Alan asked.
Icewolf glanced over at Alan's capsule. It was a smooth metallic grey oval about 10 feet long resting on a large black rectangular docking bay, like for a phone, but much larger. Attached to the docking bay were all sorts of metal wires and tubes, some nearly an inch in diameter. Everything led into the walls and floor, off to who knows where.
Alan's capsule looked slightly different from the four others in the suite; it was slightly larger, was a darker shade of grey, and included a black box attachment that the others didn't. The black box was attached to a miniature satellite dish, as well as to all of the screens at the center of the room, and had a series of giant Ethernet cords running off of it. All in all, the capsule reminded Alan of a sensory deprivation tank more than anything else.
"Fine, last words of advice," Icewolf said for the fifth time. "Focus on yourself before anything else, but remember you owe me ten million dollars for the capsule. You can begin paying me off after the tutorial.
"I recommend energy weapons, they're easy to use. Point and shoot, no recoil or reloading needed. Armor is of the utmost necessity. Don't piss off anyone with bigger guns or a backer you can't trace. Finally, are you sure you trust that AI you designed? I know you programmed it yourself, but there have been incidences of AI going haywire after being transferred into the Game."
"Eve is the reason I made it here," Alan replied. "She was designed to beat games."
"Just be careful. The AI that oversees the entirety of US military operations is only rank B, and your AI is apparently rank D. Combined with the rank B capsule..." Icewolf trailed off.
"How accurate are these ranks anyway? Shouldn't a game use levels?" Alan asked.
"Ranks are accurate enough that everyone from the Department of Education to the god damn Pentagon now use them to assess and classify everything from cubes to spaceships," Icewolf said.
"And the Games does use levels, but that's tied to your character; ranks judge the strength of everything else, from items to monsters to abilities. The reason your capsule cost ten million instead of a hundred thousand is because it's a rank B capsule specialized to let you have an in-game AI, and I got it for a steal. Nowadays, I bet an Olympic weightlifter’s strength would be rank D at most, and a capsule like this one could sell for 50 million on the open market."
"Got it, my AI is over powered, the capsule even more so, and I'll start paying you back once I'm done with the tutorial. I'm still not sure why you decided to take this risk for me, but let's get started," Alan said, walking up to the capsule.
As soon as he was a few feet away the capsule opened, revealing a pool of silvery liquid a few feet deep. Alan looked over to Icewolf for reassurance.
"Think of it as an investment; I have the capital and want to sponsor a friend I know is a capable gamer. I'll have some jobs for you once you've finished the Tutorial, but focus on that first. And remember, it's just a game!" Icewolf said.
Taking a deep breath, Alan climbed into the capsule and submerged himself in the liquid, which felt like fluid gelatin. The lid closed over him, leaving him in complete darkness. Panicking, Alan began thrashing about, sure he was going to drown. This was some cruel joke; a way for aliens to harvest gullible, unintelligent humans. Yet when he opened his mouth he realized he could somehow breathe this liquid. Alan took a few deep breaths, then faded into unconsciousness...
A ray of light broke Alan's reverie, a dream he couldn't recall being real. He had been in a serene, white room, or so he thought, but was now lying in a field of yellow, dried out grass. Looking around, he briefly panicked, but then remembered he was in the Game. It was amazing how lifelike everything was. The touch, the sight, the smell… everything seemed so…
real
to him. In fact, it somehow felt more real, which didn't make any sense.
Everything around Alan was crystal clear. He had always had a bad sense of smell, and his vision wasn't perfect. Now, though, he could see the tiny drop of water on an individual blade of grass nearly twenty feet away. He also smelled everything, from faint dewy grass to animal scat to lemon trees.
Trying to get a grasp on where he was, Alan looked for noticeable landmarks. He was on top of a small hill in some rural part of what he assumed to be California. There were two small buildings: a quaint one-floor farmhouse with a small garden in front and a barn that had been turned into a house with a few rusted solar panels on the roof.
There was a dirt road between the homes, but where it led Alan had no idea. There was nothing else but forest and brush as far as he could see, up and down the hill, or mountain, or whatever it was he was on.
Standing up, Alan looked down at his body in surprise. He clenched his fist, then took a few steps; Alan felt more fit, more in-shape than he ever had in his life. It was like he was at the peak of his fitness level back when he had ran cross-country, although he’d quit since it was too painful. He felt like he could run a six-minute mile easily.
Jogging up and down the hill, testing his movements, Alan realized he also felt more balanced, almost super human. He wanted to try a front flip, but then reconsidered.
The authenticity of the Game amazed him. He was stronger, faster, and more perceptive than he’d ever been, but it still felt like him, his body. He suddenly noticed the small icons that were in the corners of his vision, and stopped jogging. They were faintly outlined, but when he concentrated on them they became more opaque. These icons were ones that could be found in any game, mostly aggregated in the bottom right hand corner of his vision.
There was the character button, where he could look at his status, and the social button, where he assumed you could send messages as well as add friends or people you wanted to block, although he wasn’t yet sure that was part of the Game. There was an inventory button, showing what items he had, as well as a log button that would list what happened to him, a guild button for stuff relating to a group of people that formed a group to play together, and an options menu. There was also a map with a clock in the top right corner of his vision.
Alan momentarily panicked once he realized there was no log out button, but then he remembered that he’d need to stay in the Game for a week in real life time, about a month in-game time, thus the whole changed living location. This would probably be explained with time.
Wondering what each button did, Alan reached out in front of him, pressing in the air where he saw the character button. Nothing happened. He waved his arms in front of him, trying to press the buttons he could see so clearly.
“What the hell is happening? How am I supposed to open these menus?” Alan said aloud, thankful no one was around to see his frantic flailing.
Simply think the command,
a voice in his mind said.
“What? Who’s there?”
No one detected is here.
“Wait, no, I mean, who are you?”
I am Eve, the AI you constructed and brought into the Game.
“Are you inside my mind?”
Uncertain. I am connected to the Game, which is connected to you. I detect everything your senses do, as well as your higher-level thoughts. Thus, there is no reason to voice your questions and commands aloud, simply think them.
Half sure he was going crazy, Alan thought in rapid succession,
Damn, Eve can read my mind… Whatever, she’s just a program…
He directed his thought at Eve.
So then, are you like my personal search engine? Do you know where I am?
Eve responded
, I do have access to the 200 terabytes of data you stored on my hard drives, but I am much more than a search engine. I am capable of anything you would have commanded me to do in a game. Additionally, based upon our surroundings, the temperature, the position of the Sun at this time, and the local wildlife, I believe we are in Sonoma County in California.
Cool. Can you show me these things too? Like can you highlight all the living creatures in my sight?
Affirmative.
Immediately Alan regretted his decision. Hundreds if not thousands of bugs all around him were glowing bright red.
Shutting his eyes, Alan thought,
Stop. Highlight living things larger than a mouse, alright? Actually, anything that could be potentially dangerous like a poisonous spider should be highlighted too… No, highlight everything that could harm me in red, and tell me if anything that could be potentially deadly appears.
Affirmative.
Alan opened his eyes. Everything was red, from the Sun to the ground. He had no idea how leaves could be deadly, but they were highlighted.
Okay, highlight things that could kill me in an hour, not just someday somehow.
Affirmative.
The trees, everything on the ground, a few sharp sticks, and the houses remained highlighted. Groaning aloud Alan sat back down and thought for a few minutes.
How about this,
Alan sent.
Highlight and tell me about things that you believe if made aware of would be likely to increase my chance of survival or decrease my risk of injury. Additionally, once I am aware of things, you don’t need to constantly highlight them unless they escape my awareness.
For example, if a car was coming at me, you would tell me to dive to the left or right, along with an indication of how soon I should move, with a more frantic voice if I should do something right the hell now or die otherwise. Can you change your voice in my mind?
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Another example, if there was a deadly creature fitting this description I should be made aware of, you would let me know where it was and how best to avoid or kill it, got it?
Affirmative,
Eve replied.
Also, it’s boring if you keep saying affirmative, so try to switch up your vocabulary when confirming stuff or talking to me, okay?
Okay.
If there are any significant resources, alert me to those too, and display the location on my minimap. Actually, do the same thing for enemies.
What is the definition and parameters of significant?
Sighing, Alan thought some more…
***
A bit later, Alan hoped he had worked everything out. If he had missed something, it’d become apparent, and he would change it. The thought occurred to him…
Backup my commands and settings,
Alan sent to Eve.
Redundant command. A backup is constantly being updated.
Wait, you’re recording my thoughts?
I am recording everything you experience and see, as well as your thoughts.
Great… stop recording everything I think.
Very well.
Rolling his eyes, more amused than he maybe should have been, Alan scanned his surroundings. Everything was back to normal, there weren’t any glaringly red things in his vision or thousands of creepy crawlies.
He looked up at the clock by his minimap. It was 4:44 p.m. in the afternoon, Pacific Standard Time. There was also a countdown that read 00:15:43.
What’s the countdown for?
Alan asked Eve.
You wished for any significant event to have a countdown displayed next to the clock. That is the remaining time until the Tutorial begins.
Wait? I only have 15 minutes left? Icewolf said I’d have almost a day to get used to the virtual world!
Based upon my data, you woke up with 2 hours, 17 minutes, 23 seconds, 34 milliseconds, 20 microseconds, 8 nanoseconds…
Stop. You don’t need to tell me that with precision to the nanosecond. If it won’t make any obvious change to my decisions or help me in some way, you don’t need to tell me observations or facts with that sort of detail.
Alright.
Alan had figured out that Eve was, unfortunately and fortunately, a program, which meant he had to think commands precisely, defining things in such a way that she understood. It was like making macros in other games he’d played.
Wondering what had happened to all his time, Alan asked Eve,
What should I expect when the countdown goes to zero?
Based upon the games I have played, you will be either teleported to a starting zone or a series of challenges will begin.
Challenges, right… which means I should get supplies.
Running over to the larger farmhouse, Alan tried opening the door.
Locked. No luck.
Alan sprinted over to the other house. The entrance was only a sliding glass screen door. Picking up a large rock from the garden, Alan threw it at the door with all his might.
The rock bounced off the door, creating a dent, but not shattering it like Alan had hoped. He looked at the clock. There were ten minutes left.
Then Eve pointed out,
The door isn’t locked.
Alan was almost sure he could hear some derision in her voice, but that was impossible, she was just a machine. Although, exactly what a machine was capable of was quickly becoming unclear.
He ran up to the door. He tugged on it and it slid open.
Almost face palming, Alan entered, looking around. To his right was a small kitchen, while there were an open living room and dining table to his left. He could see a few closed doors down a short corridor.
Hoping to find a weapon, Alan ran into the other rooms, opening closets and bedside drawers. The only thing he found other than clothes, books, house supplies and board games was a dark green compound bow with arrows. He had no idea how to use the bow but figured it might come in handy.
As there was a minute left, Alan ran into the kitchen, picking up the largest knife he saw, a six-inch cutting knife.
When Alan tried opening the inventory button, there wasn’t a bag or slots where he could deposit items. Instead, a simple list of everything he was wearing and carrying appeared.
Figuring that there wasn’t a built in inventory system to store things like in most games, Alan grabbed a green backpack in one of the closets, putting the arrows he’d found in it, gripping the bow in one hand and the kitchen knife in the other.
Alan watched the countdown.
0:00:03…
0:00:02…
0:00:01…