The Bathrobe Knight: Volume 2 (47 page)

              I'm worried about Charles using her, but I've been doing it the entire time. I've been using my own daughter as an ignorant, innocent informant to find out about her mysterious acquaintance.
I'm no better than Charles.
It had all started with that solitary post by a random kid on the forums complaining about being killed by a guy wearing a bathrobe and a spoon. It was laughable and dismissible enough on its own; but, with Kass accidently corroborating the guy's story at the same time, it had been too much of a coincidence not to bear further investigation. As a result, he had gone straight back to work and started snooping around, using his connections throughout the office in order to find out as much information as he could. He had used his friendship with Gary to search through the database for instances involving spoons or bathrobes being put into the game. Gary had even asked the other teams' members if they had made any last minute additions to the game as novelty items.

              Looking back, it wasn't shocking that someone had managed to add up two and two together there. The leading design team member starts asking around about strange items being put into the game without warning or notice at the request of the lead programmer, and within the next few days a spoon-emblazoned, bathrobe-wearing madman starts wreaking havoc throughout the game, upturning everything anywhere he goes.

              Then, to make things worse, Robert had gone straight back to Gary as soon as he found out the mystery man's name: Darwin
.
He had asked his friend, once again, to use his position to search through account information and character files trying to find the name.
How could I have been so short sighted? Of course they were going to figure that one out.

              There was so much scrutiny surrounding the intervention of developers within the game world, Robert was actually surprised it hadn't come sooner. The company maintained a strict hands-off policy when it came to affecting anything within the game. As employees of the company, they were not supposed to, under any circumstance, involve themselves with what went on in game. Sure, there were exclusions for specific instances where a bug may crop up or a problem arise; but, the problem was, there weren't really that many actual problems. Having Gary search for a specific name through the game's account registry must have thrown up red flags to anyone watching for it, especially when there wasn't an attached complaint or support ticket.

             
I guess I was too good at my own job. Should have made more mistakes in the programming.

             
At the moment, it felt like a backhanded self-compliment and only served to agitate Robert even more. In truth, there were a million different 'what if' scenarios running through Robert's head as he second guessed himself and questioned how he could have done things differently. He had been so careless, so clumsy.
But who could have predicted this? I'm a programmer, not a businessman, a fortune teller or a gambler. I don't have the ability to see the future or take blind risks. I attack things systematically. I see a problem, I take the first logical step in fixing it. If it doesn't work, I move on to step number two. Rinse and repeat until either the problem is fixed or you figure out a solution to it.

              Robert lifted the cup he was holding in his hand in order to take a sip, but was greeted only with the cold sensation of ice pressing against his lips instead of liquid. The partially melted cubes rattled in the glass as he lowered it back to the table beside him. Robert slowly reached over, grabbed the bottle of Scotch he had left sitting there, unstoppered it and poured himself two fingers of the caramel-colored liquid before replacing it and taking another sip from his glass.

             
So what am I supposed to do now? It doesn't really matter how I got into the situation or why. Nothing can change all that. There's no reset button in real life. All that's important now is what I'm going to do next.
The first thought that had come to Robert's mind was of simply trying to flee--run away as far as he could and hope that Charles never found him or his daughter.
But where are we even supposed to go? Where are we going to hide? Charles has virtually unlimited resources at his disposal. He owns property of one type or another in every major country around the world and, I'm sure, contacts in half the others. How would we ever survive? Sure, I have some savings, but how long would that last? Are we supposed to get fake identities like some shady criminal and live the rest of our lives always looking over our shoulder?

              The entire idea was irrational, unreasonable, illogical and improbable, and Robert knew it. This wasn't a movie where he could simply upend his entire life and move to another country or go into hiding on the feeling that something bad was going to happen. This was the real world. There were laws that would protect him no matter what grim future he feared could be in store. It was only his overactive imagination and too many late-night B movies that spurred on the fleeting images of horror and worst-case scenarios.

             
Charles never gave me any reason to think he would hurt me or Kass
.
That's crazy. I'm just making things up . . . Dreaming up demons in the shadows where there shouldn't be any.
He berated himself for even entertaining such dark fantasies as he took another sip of his drink. No, there would be no running away from this one. The idea was foolish. He had tried to teach Kass his entire life that she shouldn't run from her problems; and, if he did so now, he would only be making himself out to be a hypocrite. Knowing Kass, she would probably call him out on it and never forgive him for it. Besides, while it might have solved some of his problems, at least temporarily, it wouldn't solve them all. If anything, it would just create an entirely new and different set.

             
Besides, we're probably being watched anyway. I'll bet he's even monitoring my credit card.
Robert snorted at the idea derisively. It was obviously drawn from another bad action movie, yet his eyes flickered back and forth as he tried to peer into the darkness outside the window of his home anyway.

             
Why did I never disclose the information before anyway?
Robert puzzled, questioning his motives again.
It certainly wouldn't have hurt anything for someone to know where I was getting the information. Wait . . .
Robert's face scrunched up in thought as he tried to remember exactly how things had played out, exactly what he had said and to whom.
Did I ever tell Gary why I was asking him for such strange favors? Did . . . Could he . . .
Robert shook his head to dispel the thought before it could ever coalesce and come to fruition. He took another sip of liquor to chase the thought away just for good measure.

              No, the answer had to be much simpler. The responsibility was solely on him. He had chosen to pursue the path, and now he was going to have to walk it.
I was just trying to do my job,
Robert reasoned.
Something was strange, I knew it wasn't right, and I was trying to fix it. I just didn't want to involve Kass if I could help it.

              Robert had spent the better part of his life separating his work and home life for one reason or another. For the most part, it was easy. Kass had only ever been interested in his work to the extent that it might have had an impact on her own life. Whenever he finished a project and was looking for a new job, it usually meant that he was going to be picking them up and moving them. Even though it had only happened twice before, the threat was always there. That was one of the main reasons he had toyed with the idea of teaching at a university. He knew that it would probably be a long-term position, which would preclude the necessity of having to move her around the country chasing after work again. In the end, however, she had graduated high school and moved away to college before he had ever taken the plunge into the academic world.

              Then, for the years she was away studying, it had been even easier. They had kept in touch, but she was so focused on her own goals and graduating that she had never really taken the time to ever even ask more than 'How is work going?' or 'Are you going to be starting anything new anytime soon?' For the most part, she was just politely asking for the sake of making conversation, not because she was genuinely interested in anything he might have been working on. Robert had known early on that she wasn't going to follow in his footsteps and take up programming. There were a lot of fathers who may have been disappointed that their only child didn't share the same ambitions as them, but Robert wasn't one of them.

I didn't want to get her involved in what’s going on, but now I've been pushing her to more seriously consider a position with the company.
Robert took another sip of his drink as the idea suddenly dawned on him as being somewhat counterproductive and hypocritical. How could he possibly hope to keep his professional and home lives separated if Kass were going to work for the company? Even though she may not have the technical background to work as a programmer doing the exact same job as Robert, he had envisioned her possibly working somewhere with design or as a community liaison. Kass certainly seemed vocal enough about her ideas and suggestions on how to make improvements, anyway. If anything, her first hand experience from having actually played the game gave her a distinct advantage. Robert knew from listening to the tirades around the office that designers were often critiqued as being out of touch with their player base--it was one of the main arguments against not being able to play the game as employees. If she were to take a position like he had encouraged her to, any position really, he wouldn't be able to maintain that distance any more. The lines between work and home were going to become blurred even more than they already had.

             
Does it even matter, anymore? Kass is an adult. She can take care of herself,
Robert chided himself.
Sure, she seems to be a little naive about certain things at times and a little self-centered, but who isn't? I can't protect her forever. But from something like this . . .
Robert knew he didn't have a ton of options left on the table. Maybe he was just being unreasonable. Kass would see reason. He could just talk to her and explain what was going on. He was her father: it was his job to protect her and her job to listen to him. He tended to be a little laid back most of the time, but when he had something serious to say, she would listen. She would have to. Right?

              Robert went to take another sip of his drink, but, to his dismay, he found that it was empty and the ice completely melted.
I'll fix that in a minute,
he thought to himself, setting the empty rocks glass on the table beside the bottle. He crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to stare out the window.
I'll fix it . . .

              The next thing Robert knew, he was being awakened by a rather bright light burning somewhere behind his shut eyes. His eyes were trying to flutter open, but his eyelids felt rather heavy, and something crusty was trying to hold them in place to prevent them from opening.

              "Mmmugh," Robert groaned, rubbing at his eyes to help them in their struggle. He was immediately aware of two distinct facts: his entire body was stiff in places it normally wasn't, even for someone his age, and his lower back protested even the idea of stretching to relieve the stiffness. Robert ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head as he came to his senses and realized where he was and why.

              "Hmm." Robert stood up against the advice of his major muscle groups and stretched his arms over his head as if he were trying to reach the ceiling. He pressed his hands against his back and was rewarding with a series of pops as he cracked his spine. He then twisted side to side slowly trying to get blood flowing to the aching muscles again.

              Once he was finished, he grabbed the empty glass from table and began plodding towards the next room and the kitchen like a slow-moving zombie.

              "I'm getting too old for this . . ." Robert muttered as he staggered into the kitchen, upended the glass from last night in the sink and went about brewing a pot of coffee.

              "Too old for what, Dad?"

              Robert would have spun around at the sound of the unexpected voice except for the fact that moving anywhere quickly at the moment felt like a rather bad idea--one he may not have even been capable of had he tried.

              "Too old to be falling asleep in a chair instead of a proper bed." Robert stretched his muscles again, trying and failing to get some small semblance of flexibility back. "Or maybe just not quite old enough yet." Robert gave Kass a wan smile as he slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table."

              "Easy there, old man," Kass said teasingly. "Next thing you know, you'll be asking me to make you warm milk and change your Depends."

              "Yeah. You have my permission to just go ahead and shoot me if that ever happens," Robert said, lowering his head into his hands and hunching forward to rest his elbows on the table.

              "You sure you want to wait that long? You're looking pretty rough this morning. I could just go ahead and put you out of your misery if you wanted,” Kass said jokingly.